WTFUDLS 10

 Chapter 10

Boys around twenty aren’t fun. It seemed like their heads were filled with nothing but self-praise. No matter what Jiwoo said, they would somehow turn it into boasting about themselves. How well they’d done in high school, how popular they were with girls, how someone had given them their number just yesterday while walking down the street, how they were now going to the gym and lifting hundreds of kilograms… Who actually cared to hear that? Only their mothers, obviously—but did they really think anyone else wanted to listen?

Even if they tried to boast subtly, it made no difference. Jiwoo could see through the entire effort. Smart boys were no better. If anything, those from prestigious universities bragged even more, as if nothing remained of them outside their achievements. They seemed to fret that Jiwoo might somehow overlook their greatness.

Jiwoo didn’t want to hurt their feelings. They weren’t bad people—just boring. They were kind, polite, and helpful. So Jiwoo responded with gentle words, smiles, and laughter. That’s why her college life, and actually her life overall, wasn’t particularly exciting, but it wasn’t miserable either.

Then she met Noeul.

Noeul was unusual. He wasn’t obsessed with showing off. He would listen to others, highlight their strengths, and make them look good. If the mood dropped, he’d crack a joke to lift it.

When Noeul teased, it was only about himself—and not to get sympathy, but to make others laugh. Even rude comments bounced off him naturally. Like stabbing water with a knife, nothing could hurt him. Malice had no effect.

Being with Noeul was easy and fun.

So Jiwoo wanted to be close to him.

For a while, she thought he was avoiding her. She wondered if she had somehow offended him or if he disliked people like her. Maybe her desire to be friendly had been too much for him.

But that had been a needless worry.

“…I don’t dislike you.”

It seemed everything had just… worked out that way.

She was relieved Noeul wasn’t avoiding her. But why did he keep leaving her alone with Jungi? Talking to Jungi was boring. The jokes fell flat, and he couldn’t match Jiwoo’s remarks. Conversations kept stalling. Then, without context, he would start boasting—how a professor praised his report, how freshman girls were saying he was handsome, though he had no idea why. Jiwoo didn’t have much to say to that—just “Ah, I see” at best.

“Full?”

“Huh?”

Jiwoo looked at Jungi.

“You weren’t eating much.”

Jiwoo was picking at the peas that came with the drinks at the second bar.

Noeul said he had a paper due the next day and went home immediately after the first round. Jiwoo tried to protest, saying, “After drinking like that, how can you work on a paper?” but Noeul insisted it was important.

Well, most of the classes they were taking were similar anyway. Maybe Noeul was just more diligent, taking one or two extra lectures.

“I guess I’m still full from the first round. Nothing goes down.”

“Ah….”

That was all. Noeul might have made a funny comment, teasing without malice, but Jiwoo was left hanging.

Jungi scooped some kimchi nabe broth and asked,

“Did you watch Deadman Part 1?”

“Yeah. I heard Part 2 just came out.”

“Right.”

Jungi seemed hesitant to continue. Jiwoo had seen this many times: boys getting nervous just before asking someone out or proposing plans. They could just ask casually, yet they fumble.

Finally, he asked,

“Uh… want to go watch Part 2 together this weekend?”

“Sure.”

His face lit up.

“Let’s ask Noeul too.”

“…Uh… Noeul…”

Jungi’s expression stiffened noticeably.

“Why?”

“Uh? Ah… never mind. I’ll ask.”

He muttered to himself,

“I think Noeul said he’s busy this weekend… not sure if he’s free…”

“Oh? Then let’s go when Noeul is free.”

He didn’t say anything further.

“Why? Is Noeul always busy on weekends? Does he have something to do? A part-time job? Or classes?”

“…You really want to hang out with Noeul, huh.”

“Yeah. He’s fun.”

“Uh, yeah…”

Jiwoo felt frustrated. The conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Something felt off, like it was circling without resolution.

Jungi asked,

“Do you like funny people?”

“Yeah. Who wouldn’t?”

“Ah, I see. Just checking if your type is a funny person.”

“Hmm… never really thought about a type. But fun’s better than boring, I guess.”

“Mhm…”

Why was he suddenly asking about her type? Jiwoo felt a bit restless, even itchy.

“Noeul’s really funny, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyone dating Noeul would be lucky. He’d keep them entertained.”

“I guess so.”

“…Have you ever thought about dating Noeul?”

Jiwoo’s eyes went wide.

“Huh? Noeul? Never thought about it.”

Suddenly, Jungi, who had been fidgeting like a nervous puppy, laughed loudly.

“Right? Ah, sorry, my bad.”

“…For what?”

“Uh?”

“What do you mean, sorry?”

Jungi looked awkward. Jiwoo wondered if they were talking past each other.

“Ah, I was just checking in case you felt bad. I didn’t think you would… but just in case.”

“Ah… got it.”

He sipped the soju on the table, looking slightly embarrassed.

A silence fell.

Jiwoo felt inexplicably irritated. No reason, just… bad mood. Was it because talking to Jungi was so boring? She didn’t want to talk or sit there any longer. She just wanted to go home.

Back in his apartment, Noeul dropped his bag and flopped onto the bed.

When the sensor lights in the entrance turned off, the apartment sank into complete darkness. Noeul blinked in the dark.

Unlike when he was with Jiwoo, his mood didn’t fluctuate. On the walk home, he’d gotten calmer. Maybe “better” isn’t the right word—it was more like he felt nothing at all. He wasn’t sad, angry, or disappointed. He felt… nothing.

Feeling nothing even felt strange. He had thought he liked someone, only to realize he didn’t. He’d been through it dozens of times, big and small, and didn’t want to be swayed again.

But did he really feel nothing? Or was he forcing himself not to feel, because that’s how he thought he should feel?

He didn’t know. For so long, he had believed his feelings had to be a certain way, he no longer knew what his real feelings were.

He just felt a bit queasy.

Sitting against the wall, he didn’t want to look at his own feelings. In time, he’d be fine. He’d feel peaceful again.

Brrrr… brrrr…

He looked at his phone.

[Park Hansol]

Brrrr… brrrr…

Hansol? What could he want? Noeul hesitated.

…Just get the reason and hang up.

He answered.

“Hey, Hansol.”

[Were you sleeping? Why do you sound like that?]

Noeul almost said, “I was drinking,” but stopped. Saying that would excuse himself: “What I say now is because I’m drunk.”

“Ah, I was crying really hard before, that’s why.”

Hansol chuckled.

[Hey, your class ends early tomorrow, right?]

“Yeah. Why?”

[Let’s drink from noon. Then we each pass out at home on Saturday.]

Noeul laughed at the absurdity.

“How much are we going to drink? You even plan to pass out?”

Hansol giggled.

[Ah, can’t? You’re too popular, already got plans?]

“Popular…” Noeul laughed bitterly. Yeah, he was “popular.” Everyone looked for him at drinking parties. He joined in and played along. Why did he do it so diligently? He used to enjoy it, maybe, but now he was just tired.

He couldn’t skip, though. He was afraid. One missed party, and he’d be pushed to the margins. Then no one would seek him out.

Being alone didn’t matter, really. But if an unattractive person had no friends, society labeled them risky, unstable, and dangerous. Noeul feared that social judgment. He needed to show, I’m safe. I’m fine. Hence, he joined the group.

Hansol, though… could be an outsider. A pretty person without friends was seen as making a choice. Beauty alone marked someone as safe and socially acceptable. There was no reason a beautiful person would be unstable.

Thinking this far, Noeul didn’t want to hear Hansol’s voice. He hated how Hansol lived differently, unlike the other pretty kids. He was beautiful, charming, and yet pretended not to be the center of attention. He was irritating.

Noeul felt he might explode if he kept talking to Hansol. He tried to sound casual:

“Ah, got plans. Next time, schedule early.”

[Ah, why? Let’s hang out.]

“No. Ending call.”

[Hey, I only have you as a friend. Don’t you feel bad for me?]

“…I’m not your only friend. Stop talking nonsense.”

[It’s true. When have I ever hung out with friends?]

“…Ending call.”

[Why are you so mean? Why do you keep shutting me out?]

“…If you want friends, ask them to hang out. They’d all want to be your friend.”

His voice came out sharp. Hansol paused.

Noeul realized the anger wouldn’t fade quickly.

[It’s just because we click so well.]

“Click? You said yourself, ‘Heart matters more than face’ is bullshit. So why are you asking me to be friends?”

[Uh…]

Hansol couldn’t continue.

Noeul chuckled dryly. Again, he almost let himself fall for it. Recently, new pretty people kept appearing, saying, let’s hang out, and his mind spun. Stupid…

Shaking off the thought, Noeul snapped back to reality. What was he doing? Why was he angry at Hansol? He had done nothing wrong—just called to hang out.

“…Ah, sorry.”

He opened his mouth to explain further, but any words sounded like pathetic excuses.

[…It’s okay. Happens to anyone.]

“……”

Hansol sounded understanding.

Hearing “it’s okay” made Noeul feel worse. Not only was he unattractive, he couldn’t control his emotions and blurted things out. Hansol was so adult in comparison. What would Hansol think of him? Embarrassed. Wanted to die.

“Ah… sorry. I’ll contact you later.”

Noeul hung up without waiting for Hansol’s reply.

“…Ha…”

He ran his hands through his hair.

Muttering low, with a grimace:

“…What am I even doing….”