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As Sieun steps through the door, the woman behind the desk stands and brushes her skirt off. Not that there was anything on it to begin with.
“Yeon Sieun-ssi, please come in. Have a seat,” she says, wearing a welcoming smile and proper air. She gestures towards the stiff chair in front of her carved wooden desk.
Sieun bows and shuts the door behind him. “It’s an honor to be here,” he says softly. He places his backpack on the floor by the chair and sits.
“It’s an honor to have you,” she returns, sitting down herself.
“We were thrilled to receive such an impressive application. You’re quite the brilliant young man!” she titters, “We almost deemed this interview unnecessary.”
Sieun bows slightly in acknowledgement.
“Now then, we won’t take too much of your time. I’m sure you’re busy studying hard.” She smiles as if she’s made a joke. “The reason we had you come in today is so we can discuss your background. We discovered a certain situation that needs clarity before we can move on with the admission process.”
Sieun nods. She clears her throat.
“Your legal record is clean, as is your academic record, bar a single demerit, but we’re not in the practice of taking such a little thing so seriously.”
She looks between Sieun’s eyes. “It was odd, then, that we came across some concerning rumors regarding your involvement in school violence.”
Sieun swallows, but does not break her gaze. “Yes,” he says.
“Sieun-ssi, were you aware of the existence of these rumors?”
He nods, barely moving. “Yes.”
“I see,” the woman says, no longer smiling. “I’m sure you’re also aware that our institution has a very strict no tolerance policy regarding school violence. If these rumors were to be true, we would take that very seriously.”
“Yes,” Sieun says. His shoulders rise and fall with the depth of his breath.
The woman raises her eyebrows and leans in.
“That being said, as no evidence of this exists in the official record, we’re sure that they’re false. Is that correct?” She nods at him, almost exaggerated.
“No,” Sieun says.
Her mouth falls open. “I’m sorry?”
“They’re true. The rumors.”
The woman gapes. “Yeon Sieun-ssi, I’m not sure you understand why we have you here today.”
Sieun exhales. “I do.” His liquid eyes look right into hers. “What the rumors say. It’s true.”
The woman sighs heavily and raises a hand to her forehead.
“Yeon Sieun,” she says, “If I may be frank for a moment. Your integrity is quite admirable, but you must be reasonable. You are an intelligent young man with incredible potential, and the admissions team decided to give you this chance because we are certain you can become a great asset to our institution. I’m sure here you will blossom into a notable scholar. All we need from you is confirmation that-”
“You want me to lie.”
She closes her eyes and breathes in deep. “It would not be lying for you to confirm the accuracy of the official record. Young man, this is your future.”
“Why would I do that?” Sieun responds, eyes wide and voice low, “I don’t regret it.” He leans down and grabs his backpack.
The woman sucks on her teeth. “This is childish. I’m sure you know by now there are very few schools of our caliber willing to-”
Sieun stands, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. He bows shallowly.
“Thank you for your consideration. Goodbye.”
The woman stands up as he turns around. “This naivety is very unbecoming of a boy as smart as you are. You will regret not taking this chance. You will not find another.”
Sieun turns back to give her one last look. “I don’t care,” he says, “I no longer wish to attend this institution. I’m rescinding my application.”
As he opens the door and slips through, he catches the woman’s last words.
“What a waste.”
—
The creaky old door matches the creaky old house, but to Sieun, the sound is a relief. He pulls the door shut behind him gently, trying to minimise the noise but failing as always. He hangs his backpack on one of the hooks and slips out of his shoes.
“I’m home,” he calls, nudging them into place between Suho’s sneakers and Halmeoni’s flats.
“Sieun-ah!” Suho yells from further into the house, “Come here!”
Sieun puts on his slippers and pads towards the kitchen. Inside, Suho stands at the counter wielding a knife. He looks up at the shuffle of Sieun’s feet.
“Come on, check this out,” he says, gesturing for Sieun to come closer with the knife. He holds it in his right hand. The one that has tremors.
Sieun stops in place and frowns. “Don’t hold the knife like that.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Suho says, but he lowers it to the counter carefully. Sieun’s shoulders lose their tension and he crosses the rest of the way to Suho’s side.
Suho grins down at him. “Are you ready for the most perfect fried rice ever,” he boasts, gesturing down at the counter.
Sieun looks away from Suho’s face to the cutting board on the counter. On it Suho has painstakingly diced some carrots into small cubes. They’re not perfectly even, but it’s clear Suho has put all his focus into it.
Sieun raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say it was perfect last time?” he asks.
Suho scoffs, “Don’t say nonsense. These carrots are far superior.”
The corners of Sieun’s mouth quirk up. “Ah. My bad.” He looks up and meets Suho’s gaze, seeing how it shyly asks for praise. Sieun almost laughs.
“You did really well, Suho-yah,” he says, eyes deep with sincerity.
Suho’s nose scrunches with pleasure. “Wah, look how cute my Sieun is, saying such warm things.”
Suho reaches out to brush his fingers against Siuen’s cheeks, but Sieun dodges back. Suho pouts at him.
“Your hands are damp,” Sieun explains.
“Ah, of course,” Suho laughs, “We can’t get carrot juice on your pretty cheeks.”
Suho turns in place to search for a hand towel, hands braced on the counter for balance.
“Sieun-ah,” he says, turning back around, “Do you see the towel?”
Sieun points to where Suho had set down the knife. Underneath it was the old hand towel.
“This gaesaekki,” Suho mutters, yanking the towel out from under the knife. The knife clatters to the counter, and Sieun closes his eyes and sighs deeply.
“Sorry,” Suho says sheepishly. He takes the knife guard off his left hand, gives the towel an aggressive shake, and finally dries his hands properly. Once dry, he turns toward Sieun, hands raised in front of him. He shakes them a little bit, making Sieun reluctantly laugh. He nods.
Gently, Suho places his left hand on Sieun’s cheek and rests his right hand on his shoulder, stilling the tremors.
“Hi, jagiya,” Suho says.
“Hi, yeobo,” Sieun murmurs.
Suho leans forward and slumps his whole weight on him. Sieun takes it, wrapping his arms around Suho’s waist and feeling grateful for every hour he forces himself to spend at the gym—just so he could be strong enough to hold his love forever.
—
Sieun’s settled himself at the kitchen table, books and pens arranged, when Suho speaks.
“Oh, how’d the interview go?” He asks.
Sieun hums. “I didn’t like them.”
“Eo?” Suho leans back from his chopping to squint at Sieun. “What’s that mean?”
Sieun presses his lips together. He drags his pen aimlessly against the blank page of his notebook. He’ll have to tear it out.
“They’re assholes,” he mutters.
Suho sets his tools down and grabs his cane from where it’s propped against the counter so he can lean back further and get a better look at Sieun. “Woah, jagi, watch your language,” he jokes, but the following silence is patient. “What’d they do?” he asks.
Sieun swallows and sets his pen down to rest his hands in his lap. His eyes trail the endless loops of ink on the page.
“They wanted me to lie,” he says.
Suho frowns. “About what?”
Sieun looks up at him with liquid eyes. “About what I did. To them. Because of you.”
For a moment there is only their breath between them.
“And you wouldn’t.”
Sieun shakes his head. “I don’t want to.”
Suho groans, “Yah, ddorai, why would you-” he sighs. “Sieun-ah. Why?”
Sieun bites the inside of his lip. “I won’t lie about what happened to you. To me.”
He murmurs, “It’s not our fault. We didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not fair.”
Suho takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way over to the table. He sits down and knocks their knees together. He keeps the contact there. Sieun looks into his eyes, begging for understanding. Suho understands.
“I know,” Suho whispers. He takes Sieun’s hand in his own. “But that was the only one. Are you okay with that?”
Sieun shrugs. Suho tucks his cane between his knees so he can take Sieun’s other hand too. “Babo,” he says, dripping with fondness, “Alright, what now, hmm?”
“There are smaller colleges nearby. It’s not like there’s nothing left.”
“And your mom?” Suho asks.
Sieun rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t matter.”
Suho laughs. “As always, my jagi has it all figured out.”
Sieun shakes his head, but he can’t help a small smile.
“We’re gonna be good,” Suho says, smiling back.
With eyes like the ocean, Sieun meets Suho’s gaze. “Suho-yah,” he says.
“Hmm?”
“I’m happy.”
Suho laughs in disbelief and leans his head down so it knocks onto Sieun’s shoulder. He squeezes Sieun’s hands until both of his own are trembling.
“Yeon Sieun, you’re unbelievable. Ambushing me like that is mean,” he laughs.
Sieun leans his head against Suho’s. “I didn’t think I’d get to have this,” he murmurs.
“Have what, jagi?”
“Love.”
[
“Speaking of love”
“… What.”
“Could you pretty please clean up the laundry before the guys get here?”
“It’s your laundry. Why should I.”
“Aiyoo, married couples share everything, you know. What’s mine is yours.”
“We aren’t married.”
“Damn, we need to get on that.”
“Stop,” Sieun says, pushing Suho’s head off his shoulder.
Suho pouts. “Really though, I’m cooking. My perfect rice is at stake.”
Sieun sighs, “Fine.”
Suho dips forward to peck Sieun on the mouth and pushes himself up on his cane.
“I love you, jagiya” he says with a wink. Sieun huffs and smiles.
“Mm, love you too.”
]
—
Sieun sits alone on the couch with his head tilted towards the kitchen table. He’s a little buzzed. All his friends are gathered around the table making a ruckus about some card game Sieun never bothered to understand. Suho’s phone is propped up against an empty bottle so Yeongi can ‘referee’ through facetime. However that works.
He understands why Halmeoni turned in early.
Juntae, the first loser but a good sport, wanders over to the couch and sits down next to Sieun. He’s holding two open beer bottles and offers Sieun one.
“Sieun-ah!” he exclaims, a little too loud, “I haven’t had a chance to ask yet, but how’d the interview go?”
Sieun tilts his head towards Juntae, his eyes following a bit too late. He pauses a moment before accepting the beer with a murmured thanks.
“I didn’t make it,” he says, looking down at the bottle in his hands.
Juntae’s good mood drops. “Oh,” he says quietly, “That’s really disappointing. I’m sorry.” He bites his lip, looking for the right words. He takes a sip of his beer and clears his throat.
He continues, “Tak-ah’s been rejected from two schools already too, so he would understand. It’s really hard these days, especially from a high school like ours…”
Sieun hums. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.” He looks back to the table. The boys playing cards have clearly abandoned the game. Humin is swinging Suho’s cane around like a sword and Suho and Hyuntak are whacking each other. Suho’s hits are slower, but Hyuntak takes them like killing blows. Yeongi’s egging them both on.
Juntae clears his throat again. “Are you looking at other options?” he asks.
“No,” Sieun says, “That was the only one that offered.”
“Oh…” Juntae’s whole body slumps. Sieun takes his first sip of beer and wrinkles his nose at the taste. They’ve already had to switch to the cheaper kind. Juntae also takes a sip, lowers his bottle, then raises it again to take a gulp. Sieun’s lips quirk up at the way he grimaces.
“I don’t want to go there, anyway,” Sieun says.
Juntae blinks at him. “Really? Why’s that?”
Sieun swirls the liquid around in his bottle until it makes a whirlpool. The two watch it spiral.
“They want me to lie,” Sieun says.
Juntae tilts his head, waiting for Sieun to continue.
“About what happened to Suho. And what I did. They said I need to ‘confirm the official record.’”
They both look over to the table again. The others have all calmed down, chatting now about something or other. Suho has his arms folded on the table with his chin resting on top. Something Hyuntak says has him laughing so hard he throws his head back and gets dizzy.
Juntae turns back to Sieun and nods. “That’s not very fair.”
Sieun’s shining eyes flick over to Juntae’s and he sees understanding. “Thanks,” he whispers.
“I get it, Sieun-ah,” Juntae says, “I really admire you.”
Sieun takes in Juntae’s flushed cheeks and earnest expression. Juntae, the friend who saved him. “You shouldn’t.”
“But I do.” Juntae smiles. “I think you’re really cool. Really.”
Sieun smiles back and looks away. They rest a moment, drinking and listening to the chatter of their friends.
“So,” Juntae speaks, “What do you think you’ll do now? If it’s okay to ask, I mean.”
“There are small colleges nearby with programs I’m interested in.”
Juntae perks up. “Really? Like what?” he asks.
Sieun picks at the label of his half-full bottle. “Mathematics maybe,” he says, “Or… I think I’d like child psychology.”
Juntae’s mouth drops open. “Oh, wow!” he exclaims, “Sieun-ah, that’s really awesome!”
Sieun’s lips quirk up. “And then maybe a masters,” he adds quietly.
“What in?” Juntae asks, leaning closer.
Sieun pulls at the corner of the label. It tears. “High school education.”
Juntae sobers. “Oh.”
Sieun swallows. “If I can… If I can help just one kid, maybe…”
”I know,” Juntae says, voice wobbling, “Wah. You’re really amazing, Sieun-ah. You’re the best person I know.”
Sieun meets his eyes and softens. “You too, Jun-ah. You’re one of the best people I know.”
Juntae sniffles and holds his arms out wide. Sieun sighs but assents to the hug.
[
“So. Second place to the boyfriend, I see.”
Sieun pushes Juntae off onto the floor.
“Oh no. Never offend a tipsy Yeon Sieun!”
Sieun kicks him. Gently.
]
—
When everyone else has said their goodbyes, Humin lingers at the door.
“Hey, Suho,” he calls, “Before I leave I wanna talk about something.”
Sieun pokes his head around the corner, eyes narrowed.
“Oh, Sieun-ah, you should hear this too.”
“What’s up, man?” Suho asks, wandering around the corner. Sieun follows him out, coming to a stop at his side. Suho tilts against Sieun and throws his arm over his shoulder. Sieun wraps an arm around Suho’s waist.
Humin claps his hands together. “I have a proportion for you,” he starts.
“Proposal,” Sieun says, “And no.”
“C’mon, Sieun-ah,” Humin protests, “I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“It’s you. No.”
“I’m with my man,” Suho adds, “Nah.”
“Guys, just listen first,” Humin begs, “I’m serious.”
Suho and Sieun look at each other. After a moment Sieun sighs and they both look back at Humin.
Humin grins. “Alright!” he cheers. He clears his throat and sobers a bit, “So, my old man is sick of the restaurant. He’s looking to sell the place and find something else to pay the bills.”
“Damn, that’s kinda sad,” Suho says.
“I know, right!” Humin replies, “Point is, I guess I’m gonna try to convince him to let me take over.”
“Wow, that’s huge, man.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Humin rocks back and forth on his feet. “But the thing is, I can’t really do it alone, and Gotak’s working on becoming a killer PT, so…”
“Right,” Suho says.
“… so I’m wondering if…”
Suho rolls the hand over Sieun’s shoulder in a ‘go on’ gesture.
“… you’d do it with me?”
Suho and Sieun look at each other again. Sieun raises his eyebrows. Suho shrugs. They both turn back to Humin.
“You’re talking to me?”
“Yea! I need all your restaurant expertise.” Humin shoots him a finger gun.
Suho scoffs, “I was a waiter like three years ago.”
Humin flaps his hand. “I mean if you think about it it was more like one year-“
“Baku,” Sieun interrupts, voice low.
“Haha right anyway,” Humin laughs nervously, “But you’re also a killer chef—perfect fried rice by the way.”
“See, Sieun-ah, I told you!” Suho exclaims. Sieun rolls his eyes.
Humin steps closer. “Listen, Suho-yah, my man. I know you haven’t decided yet where you wanna go from here, but I really wanna do this, and I really want you to do this with me.”
Suho sighs, “Yah, Baku, I don’t know anything about running a business. And before you ask, you’re not roping Sieun into wasting his time helping you with anything.”
“I already have a plan for that, okay!” Humin says, “I’ll get my dad to stick around doing the money stuff for a couple years while I get a business degree and learn the ropes, right?”
He looks back and forth between Suho and Sieun. “I’m not that dumb. I care about this and I can learn.”
Suho scratches at his chest. “You’re really serious?”
“Deadass, bro.”
Suho snorts. “Alright. I think about it, I guess.”
Humin’s midway through a fist pump when Sieun adds, “I’ll help.”
Suho whips towards him so fast they both stumble.
“Huh?”
“I can help. With the business stuff. I don’t mind.”
“Jagiya,” Suho says, frowning, “You don’t have to do everything these losers ask for.” Sieun pinches him as Humin gasps in offense.
“I don’t,” Sieun says, “I want to help. If you decide to do this.”
Humin claps as loud as he can. “That’s my man!” He drops a hand on both of their shoulders, causing them to stumble again. “I’m already committed to this, but I can’t do it without you guys.”
With that, Humin steps back, nods assuredly, and starts putting on his shoes.
“Just give me some time to think,” Suho says.
“That’s fine,” Humin replies, bent in half to tie his laces into mangled knots, “No drunk decisions, right?”
“I can’t drink.”
“Take as long as you need, dude,” Humin says.
He opens the door and walks out, but sticks his head back in before it closes.
“I mean, not that long, though. Preferably in like a month. Or less. Preferably less.”
Sieun carefully unwraps himself from Suho and steps forward.
“Goodnight,” he says, shoving Humin’s head back out and closing the door with a loud creak and a thump.
“Goodnight!” comes the muffled response, “Think about it!”
[
You have 1 voicemail
“Adeul… I noticed it’s been a while since you slept at home. I was thinking we should eat dinner together soon. If you let me know when, I can cook for us. What would you like to eat? Over dinner we can catch up. I’d like to know how your college search is going.” The sound of shuffling. “I noticed… I noticed that no acceptance letters have come in for you.” A slow breath. “I know a lot of places are going all digital though, so I’m not… not too worried. But a mother is always going to be worried about her child, right? Let’s talk soon, hmm? You can even tell me about your-” A pause. “About your friend. I hope he’s doing well. And… please tell your friend’s halmeoni that I’m thankful she’s taking such good care of you. That’s all.” A shaky inhale. “I-” An exhale. “Take care, Sieun-ah.”
End of message
연시은:
eomma
is friday fine
어머니:
That sounds perfect.
What would you like?
연시은:
Sieun is typing
]
—
Suho’s already half asleep in bed by the time Sieun finishes getting ready. When he slips under the covers, the two have to wiggle around until they slot together close enough to fit. Sieun thinks the small bed is inconvenient, but Suho likes it.
Suho lies on his stomach, half on top of Sieun with one leg in between his. He can’t stand sleeping on his back anymore. Sieun doesn’t mind, happy to have Suho as his heated, weighted blanket. When Suho knocks his forehead against Sieun’s temple, Sieun’s head tilts towards him.
It’s easy to fall asleep like this, but Sieun speaks up before they can drift off.
“Suho-yah,” he mumbles, brushing his fingers over the hair on Suho’s arm.
Suho hums.
“I think you should do it.”
“Do what?” Suho asks groggily.
“The restaurant. With Baku. You’d be good at it.”
Suho lifts his head from Sieun’s shoulder to squint at him. “You think so?”
“I do,” Sieun says.
Suho rests his head back down. “Mm, okay. I trust you.”
Sieun takes a deep breath. Suho’s head rises and falls with it. Sieun moves from stroking Suho’s arm to stroking his hair.
“I think,” Sieun starts. He rests his hand over the surgery scar on the side of Suho’s head. It’s never quite hidden by Suho’s hair.
“I think it’d be good for you to have a dream.”
Suho lifts his head again, causing Sieun’s hand to fall onto his chest. Suho shifts so he can prop himself up on his good arm.
“Jagiya. This is my dream. Right here.”
The only light in the room is the moon slipping through the slits in the blinds, but Sieun’s eyes still sparkle.
“That’s your now dream,” Sieun says, “I want you to have a future dream. We all have one but you. I want you to build something for yourself.”
Suho tilts his head and looks into Sieun’s eyes. He leans down and kisses him softly.
“Okay,” he says, “I love you.”
“I love you too, yeobo.”
Suho grins. “Cute,” he whispers. He drops his head back onto Sieun’s shoulder and throws his arm over his waist.
“G’night, jagiya.”
“Mm, goodnight.”
—
“A restaurant?”
“Uh,” Suho scratches at his chest. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You crazy fucker,” Yeongi says, voice garbled through the speakerphone, “How are you supposed to manage that?”
“Baku and I have a plan, alright!”
Sieun huffs a laugh, then wishes he had done it loud enough for Yeongi to hear. Calling it a ‘plan’ is generous.
Suho and Sieun are sitting squished together on the living room couch. They can hear Halmeoni moving pots around in the kitchen whenever Yeongi has to pause to breathe.
Suho and Yeongi are on hour two of their phone call. Halmeoni tapped out around thirty minutes, and about an hour after that Sieun gave up and started watching all the videos from his friends in the group chat. He usually ignores them, but trapped under Suho’s arm—as nice as it is—there’s not much else for him to do. Sieun’s surprised to find some of them almost make sense. They might make even more sense if he wasn’t watching them on mute, but he doesn’t care quite that much.
“Hear me out, Yeong-ah,” Suho’s saying, “Baku’s gonna start business school like as soon as he graduates and his dad agreed to stick around as long as he doesn’t have to talk to customers. We’ll have things handled in no time.”
“Alright, sure, but do y’all even know how to work a kitchen? Are you just gonna throw shit in oil and see what happens? Stupid,” Yeongi responds.
“Yah, what’d you just call me? You’re gonna eat your words and some chicken!”
Sieun puts his phone down and sighs. “Suho-yah. Quiet.”
“Hah!” Yeongi laughs, “You got scolded!”
“Shut up,” Suho says, but he gives Sieun an apologetic squeeze. Sieun leans his head on Suho’s shoulder, tuning back into the phone call.
“Anyway,” Suho continues, “Our Sieun-ah is gonna help out. With him, we can’t fail.”
Sieun sighs again.
“Sieun-ah,” Yeongi says, “If you need help, say nothing.”
“Nothing,” Sieun says.
“Huh,” Yeongi says, impressed.
“Huh?” Suho says, confused.
With the two finally silenced, Sieun redirects the conversation. “Yeong-ah, Suho has something to ask you.”
“Oh? Is my precious dongsaeng finally coming to his noona for guidance?”
Suho gags. “No, never, ew.”
“Boo, you’re no fun,” Yeongi replies, “What is it though?”
Suho scratches his chest and looks at Sieun. Sieun nods.
“Okay,” Suho starts, “So, you just broke up with your girlfriend, right?”
“Sibal saekki. Jukeulae?”
Sieun pushes Suho’s arm off his shoulder and stands up.
“I’m going to help Halmeoni with dinner,” he says, walking away.
Suho reaches after him, throwing himself over the armrest. “Wait, jagi, come back! Salyeojwo!”
“No. Talk to her. Bye, Yeong-ah.”
“Bye, Sieun-ah!” Yeongi yells, “You’re my favorite!”
“Yah, jukeulae?” Suho asks back. Yeongi blows a raspberry.
“Really, though, stop stalling,” she complains, “It can’t be that bad.”
Suho groans. “Fine. Whatever.” He clears his throat and wiggles until he’s fully lying down on the couch.
“As I was saying, after a breakup is a time for changes, right? Like, quit your job, move to a new city… maybe, uh, join a start up run by an idiot and a high school drop out?”
Suho tucks a hand under his head. Waits for an answer.
“Yah, what kind of nonsense are you talking about?”
“Aish, I’m asking if you wanna do this with us. I know you’re doing fine out there, but… Seoul misses you. And the people in it, I guess.” Suho huffs. “That’s it.”
“Ahn Suho,” Yeongi says, “You’re crazy.”
Suho scoffs, but it’s weak. “Whatever, man. It’s just an offer.”
The pause lasts so long he checks to see if Yeongi hung up on him, but the call duration still ticks up, second by second.
Finally, “My lease is up in two months,” she says, “I’ll think till then.”
Suho blinks. “Wait, for real?”
“Yes, dumbass,” she says, “Gotta go. Catch you on the flip side.”
“Yah, don’t just hang up-” Suho tries to say, but he’s interrupted by the dial tone.
He scoffs and sets his phone down. “This saekki,” he mutters.
In the sudden quiet, Suho stares at the back of his phone. He bought a clear phone case just so he could show off all the stickers Juntae’s given him since he woke up. His favorite is the one of a little alien cat saying ‘Cheer Up!’ He rubs a shaking finger over it.
He loves his friends, but he still feels lonely without his sister.
Suho pushes himself up, grabs his cane, and joins his family in the kitchen.