Maybe It Wasn’t Love

“I just had a lot on my mind, so I couldn’t sleep.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Just… that getting to know a person is really difficult, I guess?”
“Hmm….”
“I thought I knew Oh Jaeyeol better than anyone else in the world. I was confident that in some ways, I knew him better than his own family.”

A full eight years.
After graduating high school, he had spent more time with Jaeyeol than with his own family, and Jaeyeol had been the same.
He felt like he couldn’t possibly know another person more deeply.
He thought he alone knew Oh Jaeyeol’s deepest flaws and abysses, things no one else knew.
When in reality, he hadn’t known anything at all.
He hadn’t even been able to imagine just how terrible a person he could become.
“But the moment I saw that message from him yesterday… it felt so unfamiliar. It was like looking at a stranger. As if the Oh Jaeyeol I knew had never existed from the start….”

That feeling was closer to a human sense of sorrow than personal pain or betrayal.
Oh Jaeyeol had occupied such a huge place in his life that the idea of the person he knew disappearing felt like losing a part of his past.
He didn’t want to believe that the most beautiful, radiant time of his life had become so pathetically shabby.
It wasn’t so much lingering feelings for Jaeyeol, but a lingering attachment to his own youth.
“If feelings are going to become this ugly just because something ends… maybe love isn’t such a good thing to begin with. That’s what I was thinking.”
“…….”
“I guess that made me a little sad.”

Haeyoon finished with a self-deprecating smile.
Jeongha quickly opened his mouth.
“Maybe it’s not love that’s the problem.”
“Huh?”
“Love…! No, what I mean is… it’s just that the bastard is a piece of shit. There’s no need to read too much into it, or something like that….”

Jeongha rarely stammered.
He was flustered by his own words.
When Haeyoon spoke dismissively of love, his heart had suddenly dropped, and a rebuttal had jumped out before he could stop himself.
He couldn’t even understand his own words, so there was no way he could logically explain them.
Maybe it’s not love that’s the problem—had those words really come from his own mouth?
Jeongha doubted his own ears.
Jeongha had always thought that damned “love” was the problem.
He’d always thought people who went on about true love were all pathetic.
The people who flocked to him, claiming to like him, were all the same.
They dressed it up nicely, but in the end, what they wanted was either the sense of superiority from having Jeongha’s looks and background, or sexual desire—one of the two.
If that was what they wanted, they should just say so honestly.
What he hated was people ranking their own emotions, pretending to be noble, pretending not to be swayed by physical attraction.
That was how he’d always felt.
“Are you trying to comfort me?”

Whether aware of Jeongha’s turmoil or not, Haeyoon looked at him with a light smile and continued.
“Anyway, you don’t believe in love either, Jeongha.”

Jeongha bit his lip.
He had no rebuttal.
Jeongha had always lived that way, and he hadn’t hidden that attitude from Haeyoon.
“Well, it’s just….”

So why did he not want to admit that now?
Why did he keep wanting to argue?
What was so important about Haeyoon not believing in love that it made him think and say things he’d never thought or said before in his life?
“What I mean is….”

His lips were parched.
His chest felt tight, like indigestion.
He knew stopping now would make him look less foolish, but he couldn’t stop.
What did it matter if Seo Haeyoon believed in love or not?
Even if Haeyoon declared he would never love again, what did that have to do with Baek Jeongha?
“It’s just not fair for you to give up on what you’ve believed in because of a bastard like that.”

Jeongha finally let out the words he couldn’t swallow.
It seemed the one who was truly insane was Baek Jeongha himself.

* * * *

“So, when should we watch the next movie?”

Jeongha, who had driven Haeyoon to his front door in his car, asked before he got out.
Haeyoon, unbuckling his seatbelt and organizing his bag, turned to look at him.
Jeongha’s eyes sparkled like a child waiting for a picnic.
Finding that sight somehow a bit endearing, Haeyoon gave a small smile and spoke.
“Well… there’s nothing currently showing that really appeals to me.”

Since they had chosen a movie according to Jeongha’s taste last time, it was Haeyoon’s turn now.
He had said Jeongha didn’t have to go that far, but Jeongha was adamant.
Just like Haeyoon had done, Jeongha also wanted to experience Seo Haeyoon’s world, which he normally wouldn’t have stepped into.
“Is that so? Hmm, then I guess we’ll have to wait a bit longer.”
“Or….”

Since there was no movie he liked, Jeongha was about to step back, but Haeyoon suddenly started as if remembering something, then quickly closed his mouth.
Jeongha latched onto the bait immediately.
“Or what?”
“No, nothing. Just a useless thought.”
“What useless thought? Tell me.”

Jeongha’s heart was already pounding fiercely, even though he didn’t know what Haeyoon was going to say.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly.
For some time now, whenever he was with Haeyoon, Jeongha felt unexpected flutters.
It wasn’t for any great reason.
He didn’t have any particular expectation.
Yet, Jeongha’s heart tightened and raced at every word and action from Haeyoon.
Just like now.

Haeyoon, who had been fiddling with his seatbelt, opened his mouth in a small voice at Jeongha’s urging.
“Well… there’s a movie I’ve come to really like recently….”
“Yeah.”

Saying he had a movie he liked—what was so great about that?
What was so heart-fluttering about that?
Jeongha unconsciously held his breath.
The car was so quiet, both of them silent, that Jeongha was afraid his heartbeat might give him away.
Finally, Haeyoon continued.
“I thought it might be nice to watch it with you.”
“…….”
“If you don’t mind… how about watching it at my place sometime?”

So, all of this was Seo Haeyoon’s fault.
Jeongha truly thought so.
Inviting a friend over was an ordinary, natural thing, but the way Haeyoon hesitated as if it held some great meaning made Jeongha’s heart skip a beat.
Or was it the other way around?
Had Haeyoon said it naturally and plainly, and Jeongha was the one who misinterpreted it as something significant?
Had he heard a nuance that wasn’t there?

Jeongha, who rarely had his emotions stirred, couldn’t properly handle this unfamiliar state.
Afraid his voice might sound pathetic if he spoke right away, he paused to compose himself, and Haeyoon, interpreting the gap as refusal, spoke again.
“I guess at home is a bit much? Then I’ll just pick one from the current releases….”
“No, no!”

Jeongha answered almost shouting.
It was the first time in his life he’d sounded so desperate.
His attempt to appear calm had been futile.
Avoiding Haeyoon’s gaze, which seemed a bit startled, Jeongha looked ahead and continued.
“I’m curious what movie it is, so… watching at your place is fine with me.”

After Jeongha answered, silence fell over the car again.
Words like “at home,” “just the two of us,” “movie,” kept surfacing and disappearing in both their minds.
Simple, meaningless words somehow didn’t feel so simple today.
The atmosphere was undeniably awkward, and wanting to break it, Jeongha blurted out.
“You don’t mean today, right?”

Of course, it was the wrong thing to say.
Flustered, Haeyoon waved his hands.
“Of, of course not. When you… when you have time.”
“Uh-huh….”

The atmosphere became even more awkward.
He hadn’t even turned the heater on, but his face felt hot.
“Then I’ll go. Thanks for the ride, Jeongha.”
Jeongha.

At Haeyoon’s voice, which washed over him gently like the ripples on a calm lake, Jeongha turned to look at him.
A name that must have been spoken thousands, tens of thousands of times—why did it feel so special only when it came from Seo Haeyoon’s lips?
“Thanks for what? Get in and rest well.”
“Yeah. Drive safe and let me know when you get home.”
“I will.”

Their mundane exchange had grown intimate.
When had they started talking so naturally to each other?
Jeongha found it strange that he had come this far without feeling any sense of strangeness.

Haeyoon got out of the car, closed the door, and stood there waving.
Jeongha lowered his window slightly, nodded a goodbye, and slowly pulled away.
He would have liked to watch until Haeyoon went inside, but Haeyoon was stubborn about this—he never went in first until Jeongha left.
When had he started finding this side of Seo Haeyoon endearing?
Jeongha suddenly realized he had been missing so much.

“A movie… watching a movie alone together….”

The problem was his state of mind.
Even knowing his condition wasn’t normal, he hardly found it problematic.
Even now, rather than pondering why he found Seo Haeyoon endearing, his head was full of anticipation for the movie they would watch together.
What was the movie Haeyoon liked so much?
Why did Haeyoon want to watch it with him?
How far could this relationship, which started with a contract based on mutual need and interest, go?

Countless questions and expectations passed through Jeongha like starlight.
There were still many unanswered questions, but he didn’t feel like thinking about them right now.
He just enjoyed this time with Seo Haeyoon.
That was all.