Chapter 18: The day before planting (12)
Part 24
“…No way. Hidden camera stuff is for YouTubers, right?”
“See? I told you this guy wouldn’t believe it even with documents and an ID.”
Joo-young and Seok-yoon’s laughter only deepened Young-jin’s confused expression.
He’d rung the intercom almost exactly on time, and his reaction wasn’t much different from the two who’d arrived earlier.
Shock at my appearance, suspicion at Joo-young and Seok-yoon’s odd behavior, muttering about hidden cameras—the usual.
“…You’re really Yoonseo?”
“Need me to show you my reissued ID to believe it?”
“…Honestly, I’d probably think you’re a different person with the same name and birthday.”
“You read all those novels, so why’re you so skeptical about reality?”
“My days of not distinguishing fiction from reality are long gone.”
“No romance in you, huh~”
My whining only made Young-jin’s expression twist further in confusion.
If only he’d felt some déjà vu from my tone or something, this would’ve been easier.
Ignoring the two sprawled out, already flipping on the TV like they owned the place, a strange tension lingered between me and Young-jin.
He broke the short silence first.
“…So, this isn’t some novel plot—it’s real?”
“I might get mad, but I can call the doctor if you want.”
“Ugh… This is insane. What happened?”
I must’ve been gripping the plastic bag too hard; it rustled before going limp.
The outlines of the bread inside faintly showed through.
Young-jin’s face still betrayed complex emotions, but he seemed to grudgingly accept it.
“That’s what you needed to tell us?”
“See? Sincerity always works.”
“This isn’t a joke… You’re really okay?”
Am I okay?
The question felt too heavy to answer easily.
No matter what I said, it wouldn’t sound sincere.
I didn’t want to lie to a friend of ten years who was genuinely worried.
Instead of speaking, I just gave a faint smile.
“Just Sung-yoon left, then.”
“All sorted?”
“Explaining this over and over feels like a chore. Wish we could’ve all met up nicely.”
I turned away from Young-jin awkwardly.
No need to keep staring, and I didn’t have the confidence to.
His worried gaze made me feel like I might blurt out, “Maybe I’m not okay,” and ruin the mood.
“Should we start lunch?”
“Sung-yoon said he’s not eating.”
“You baby him too much, Joo-young. That’s why Sung-yoon pulls this crap.”
“You say that, Yoonseo, but you always wait for him too.”
“If Sung-yoon heard you guys, he’d be like, ‘You make it sound like I’m always late, assholes.’”
Seok-yoon’s voice cut in, and I nodded in agreement.
That sounded about right.
Part 25
“Anyway, ugh… Where’s the samgyeopsal? I’m starving.”
“…This guy just rolls with it.”
Sung-yoon rushed in, breathing heavily, maybe a bit guilty for being late.
It was rare to see him like this—he wasn’t the running type—so it felt oddly refreshing.
…Wait, so the bag Seok-yoon brought was samgyeopsal?
“You’re late and didn’t bring anything?”
No need to push him to question me further.
I was getting hungry too, so I decided to stick to the original plan without fuss.
Telling them about my change was the main goal, but eating together after so long was just as important.
“Huh? …Some booze and marinated beef.”
“Oh, beef! Our big investor!”
Two heavy bags swayed in his hands, one clinking with glass bottles—probably five or six at least.
I’d planned on something simple to grill or boil, but lunch was shaping up to be quite a feast.
“…Normally, I’d deck you for treating me like a wallet, but since it’s your discharge celebration, I’ll let it slide.”
He didn’t seem thrilled about being the group’s ATM, but what can you do?
The old roughhousing wouldn’t work on me anymore.
I grabbed the meat bag and headed to the kitchen.
“Talk like that again, and I’m reporting you.”
“Look at her, already playing the gender card!”
“Sir, you’ll break a bone at this rate.”
A quick laugh rippled through.
When I asked if I could just toss the meat on low heat, Sung-yoon gave a curt “Yeah.”
Part 26
No one was really drunk.
Four guys splitting the drinks meant no one was downing enough to pass out.
With one of us already in the thick of working life, none were lightweights enough to get wasted on less than a bottle of soju each.
The samgyeopsal from Joo-young and Seok-yoon, and Sung-yoon’s marinated beef, tasted great even without extra prep.
It hit me that I hadn’t had beef ribs in a while.
I wondered if fish cake broth and meat clashed, but the soju smoothed it over nicely.
Young-jin’s bread felt a bit out of place, but we shoved it to the side for dessert later.
Part 27
“Is Sanghyeon still sleeping?”
Sung-yoon’s sudden question drew everyone’s eyes to him.
Why bring up Sanghyeon?
Sure, he liked games and subculture stuff, so he’d hung out with these guys when the timing worked, but he wasn’t close enough to mention during a drinking session like this.
“He’s probably out cold. Streams till dawn, sleeps when the sun’s up. Why?”
“Thought I’d borrow his ID to play some Monster Hunter.”
Sung-yoon’s disappointed tongue-click drew a chorus of, “Just buy the damn game yourself!”
His comeback—“Would you spend money on a game you barely play once a week?”—didn’t land well.
“…Now that you mention it, Sanghyeon’s streaming, huh?”
“Heard he’s doing pretty well. Why?”
“With your looks, Yoonseo, you could just turn on a cam, read a book, and rake it in.”
“Seok-yoon.”
We weren’t hammered, but the slight buzz felt nice.
I could guess the train of thought behind Seok-yoon’s comment, but Joo-young’s mildly scolding tone and Seok-yoon’s quick backtrack caught me off guard.
“No, I didn’t mean anything weird.”
“Is Netflix hooked up? Wanna watch a movie?”
Young-jin’s obvious attempt to change the subject by fiddling with the remote only raised more questions.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but my head felt sluggish.
Blinking slowly, I noticed they were all avoiding my gaze.
Had they even looked me in the eye while we ate?
“…You guys really believe I’m Yoonseo, right?”
“What’s that outta nowhere?”
“Then get the hidden booze out. Stop with the pointless tiptoeing.”
The awkward air wasn’t going to dissolve with a bit of drinking.
These guys weren’t the type to get plastered enough to loosen up anyway.
My sluggish brain finally pieced together what they were thinking.
Were they being careful to “consider” me?
Picking their words, hiding extra booze to avoid any drunk mishaps?
“What’re you talking about?”
“You think a bag that bulky only had three bottles of soju? Seriously?”
Sensing the mood souring, Young-jin, who’d been aimlessly flipping channels, turned off the TV.
Joo-young and Seok-yoon looked flustered, like they hadn’t meant to cause this.
Only Sung-yoon, still talking to me, kept his usual nonchalant vibe.
“…I just didn’t feel like drinking much.”
“With your personality? You’d have bought less from the start. You’re not the type to lug extra bottles ‘just in case.’”
“Man, that sharp tongue proves it’s you, Yoonseo.”
A hearty laugh.
Joo-young and Seok-yoon muttered, “Why’re you digging into this?” but it barely registered.
Sung-yoon’s annoyed—or maybe disappointed—expression filled my view.
Was it irritation or sadness?
I couldn’t tell.
My head spun, my breath reeking of alcohol.
“You guys think this is helping me?”
My head felt like it was burning.
Blood rushed, like it’d burst any second.
My ears rang with my pounding heartbeat.
This isn’t good.
I knew it, but my body—my mouth—wouldn’t listen.
“…What do you even know about me to treat me like this? This sucks, it’s hard for me too!”
“Hey, even if you’re drunk, think about your family. You’ll wake Sanghyeon.”
“I thought you guys would treat me like before…”
I didn’t think I was that emotional, but since waking up like this, controlling my feelings has been tough.
Maybe it was the booze, but this body reacted too strongly to emotions.
The wet sensation on my cheeks shocked me more than it embarrassed me.
“Yoonseo.”
“You’re all the same. Like the clerks openly sucking up or the people whispering from a distance.”
“Comparing us to strangers hurts, you know.”
“Ow?!”
A sharp pain shot through my head.
A beat later, I saw Sung-yoon’s fist, which had just thumped my crown.
My involuntary yelp drowned out my heartbeat.
“You think we’re like those random creeps? We should be the ones disappointed in you.”
No reply came.
Sung-yoon’s gaze swept the room, and I could tell everyone was nodding silently.
The pain cleared my head enough to realize what I’d said, but I couldn’t muster the courage to take it back.
“…What’s the difference? You’re not treating me like before either. I’m just some random girl who popped up.”
I didn’t have the guts to face it, so I dug into the fear I’d been avoiding, my voice trembling with tears.
“No. Those creeps don’t have the guts to do anything with you. Damn, your head’s hard.”
Sung-yoon shook his hand, and giggles rippled around.
Was I the only one not getting it?
Glaring through a mix of pain and resentment, Joo-young picked up where Sung-yoon left off.
“We can’t control how you take it, but we’re trying to keep things from falling apart.”
“Exactly.”
“But hitting a freshly discharged person’s head? Really?”
Joo-young’s scolding tone belied his relaxed expression, like he’d solved a puzzle.
“…I didn’t want that. I just wanted things to be like before.”
I wasn’t too dumb to miss their point, but I still wanted a clear answer.
So I asked indirectly, selfishly.
Tell me you’ll stay my friends.
“No helping it. You’re like this now. It’s different from when we were all guys. If we get wasted and screw up, it’s a disaster. Guys can trade punches and move on, but it’s not the same with a guy and a girl. Drunk, we’re all just irrational beasts, whether it’s Yoonseo, Seok-yoon, or Joo-young.”
“If any one of us five drops out, we’ll never meet like this again. I’m sure of it. So we talked while you were cooking—let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Seok-yoon, then Joo-young.
The alcohol’s haze had lifted.
My tears had stopped.
I prayed they’d think my flushed cheeks were from the booze, not embarrassment.
“…So, we’re trying to stay friends with Yoonseo, our buddy of ten years, not some blonde chick. We’re not refusing to treat you like before—we’re figuring out the right balance. So cut us some slack.”
You’re not the only one thrown off.
Young-jin’s final words hit, and I buried my face in my arms on the table to hide my rising smile.
I didn’t want to add bipolar suspicion to my list of issues.
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, are you crying again? Moved? Over this—”
“I’m not crying. I said I’m not.”
Their teasing went on for a bit.
I didn’t lift my head, but I was glad I’d come clean.