Homeboy

I was broken—not completely unusable, just a few screws loose. Like a wobbly wheel creaking along, I managed to live on, imperfections and all. Thankfully, as time passed, the sharp edges wore down. The dulled fangs of lingering aftereffects no longer cut into my flesh as they once had.

Nightmares were one such example. After that summer when I was eight, rainy days plunged me into panic attacks so severe I could hardly function. Now, they remained as mere nightmares, robbing me of sleep but nothing more. Both Jung-in and I were used to nights like these, so worry and unease didn’t last long. Jung-in silently held and comforted me for a while after I woke up. Once I showed signs of calming down, he raised my face and gently wiped the tears staining my cheeks and eyes. After checking me over, he left the room with a more relaxed expression, saying he’d bring me some water.

“What time is it?”

I asked after downing the water Jung-in handed me in one gulp.

“Twelve-thirty. Get ready and come outside. We’ll go pick up Mom.”

Jung-in naturally took the empty glass from me as he spoke. I nodded and got up. We quickly returned to our usual routine.

Opening the door, I headed to the bathroom while Jung-in went next door. After a quick wash and brushing my teeth, I returned to my room. I threw on a black tracksuit and topped it off with a black padded jacket. Slipping on the nearest pair of sneakers, I went out to the front of the house. Jung-in, who had come out first, was smoking a cigarette. He, too, was dressed casually in a hoodie and jumper.

“The rain’s stopped. Should we walk to NaNa Café?”

“It’s MoMo Café, not NaNa. Are you doing that on purpose?”

Jung-in asked as he stubbed out his cigarette, and I frowned back at him. Neither of us expected an answer, so we soon started walking side by side. Mom’s favorite café was about five minutes away.

About halfway there, Jung-in glanced down an alley and told me to wait before disappearing into a nearby shopping complex. I considered following him but decided to stay put, tapping my toes on the ground to pass the time.

After about five minutes, Jung-in reappeared, holding a bouquet of flowers in both hands.

“A bribe.” 

He mouthed silently, catching my gaze as he crossed the street. His face softened with a sheepish smile, making him look unbearably handsome.

With long strides, he jumped over a puddle and walked toward me, flowers in hand. His unkempt hair was tousled by the damp wind, and though he was wearing a loose hoodie with little care, his broad shoulders and confident steps made him impossible to look away from.

Jung-in, who I’d wanted for years with such greed, was absurdly cool. Placing a hand over my pounding heart, I felt it racing as if I’d just run a marathon. Yes, I was definitely broken.

I wished, rather futilely, that Jung-in could look this good only to me and appear plain to everyone else. As I entertained these thoughts, we arrived at the café.

When Mom spotted us, she casually remarked to her companion, ‘My eldest and my youngest,’ keeping her expression aloof.

The café owner, who had been chatting with her, turned to us with an intrigued gaze. At Mom’s words, she immediately began gushing over Jung-in. My fleeting wish to keep Jung-in all to myself scattered like scraps of paper in the wind.

“Oh my! I didn’t know you had such grown sons! How did I miss that?”

“You must’ve been out every time I stopped by with them.” 

Mom replied, making no effort to clarify that Jung-in wasn’t actually her son.

“You must feel full just looking at their faces! How tall is your eldest? He could be a model!”

“He’s 187 centimeters, but no, he’s not a model. And here—this is for you. I noticed the vase on the table the last time I visited.”

Though Jung-in didn’t even know the café’s name, he’d apparently noticed the flower vase. The owner’s face lit up as she accepted the bouquet.

“Oh my! Tulips! They’re so beautiful! You really didn’t have to. Thank you so much. But what’s that?”

“This one’s for Mom. She loves daffodils.”

Jung-in placed the yellow and white daffodils on the table in front of Mom. He then excused himself, saying he’d bring the car around, and left the café.

“Your eldest is so sweet.” 

“He’s not sweet. He’s just a little overly affectionate.” 

Mom replied, trying to sound indifferent, though the blush on her cheeks and the excitement in her expression gave her away.

“And your youngest? How old is he?”

“Twenty-three.”

With Jung-in gone, the café owner’s attention turned to me.

“Your youngest looks just like you! Such a small, delicate face and clear skin—he looks like an idol. Is he in college?”

“He’s starting this year. Korea University. He served in the military first.”

“…I’m so jealous. I don’t think I can keep talking to you anymore.”

Mom, unprompted, even mentioned the university’s name. The café owner, amused but not annoyed, stood up first. Naturally, we began tidying up and gathering our things as well. Mom, cradling the bouquet of daffodils close to her chest, looked almost girlish.

Thus unfolded an otherwise uneventful weekend.

About 40 minutes away from Seoul, we arrived at a countryside duck restaurant. It was a spacious hanok-style building in an L-shaped layout with a wide yard. Seated by the window, we had a clear view of the lake out back. Mom scolded Jung-in for ordering only pork shoulder at a duck restaurant, while I helped myself to the thick, juicy pork cuts.

After finishing our meal, we grabbed a cup of coffee from the café next door and strolled along the lakeside. On the way home, since Mom and Jung-in had shared a bottle of beer, I took the wheel. Half a bottle was enough to make Jung-in tipsy, and he slurred drunkenly, ‘My little baby’s all grown up now.’

Sunday was more of the same. Aunt In-seon and Uncle Jung-myung, who had returned home earlier than usual, came over to our place as the sun began to set. Jung-in followed shortly after, arms full of carrots and kohlrabi. We sat around the dining table for an early dinner, and afterward, we gathered in the living room for tea and conversation. It was as ordinary as any other weekend, which made it all the stranger.

Since yesterday, I hadn’t been able to shake a nagging unease, a feeling that I didn’t quite belong in this peaceful routine. As I tried to slip away from the adults’ talk about work, I stopped in the hallway by the side table and found the source of my discomfort: Jung-in’s phone, sitting next to the bright yellow flowers now arranged in a vase.

“What time is it?”

Even I cringed at the unconvincing tone of my excuse. Slowly, I approached the table. With a cautious finger, I tapped the phone’s screen, and it lit up. But I couldn’t delve any deeper. Jung-in’s phone was now locked with a password.

I left it where I found it and retreated to my room. My restless mind wouldn’t settle. I sat at my desk, lay on my bed, and paced the room repeatedly. No matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t make sense of anything. Jung-in had lied to me. I hadn’t yet figured out why, and now I couldn’t even access his phone.

Frustrated, I leaned against my desk, biting my lip. Finally, I pulled out my own phone and made a call. Even in the brief moments as the line rang, my legs jittered uncontrollably with nervous energy.

-Who is this? Oh, my little brother, Son Yeo-il…

“Noona! Jung-in lied about having a girlfriend, and now he’s put a password on his phone!”

-What the hell? No greeting, just straight to it? That bastard Jung-in, that tent-thieving little thief—what’s he gone and done now?

Noona had the foulest mouth of anyone between our two households, and she also drank the most. It seemed my blunt introduction had annoyed her, and her irritation was laced with expletives. Judging by her tone, she’d had quite a bit of day drinking as well. But I didn’t have the capacity to worry about that now. Instead, I explained what had happened yesterday in more detail.

After listening quietly, she suddenly spoke up.

-Yeo-il, you know what they say, right?

“What do they say?”

–Al-ba-sseu-reppa.

“…What?”

–Al-ba-sseu-reppa! As in, it’s none of your damn business whether Jung-in has a girlfriend or not. Just shove him against a wall and pounce on him. Ah, damn it… I accidentally imagined it.

“…”

-Are you listening? Just go for it already. Kiss him square on the mouth and be done with it!

Surprisingly, Noona was even less helpful than I had anticipated. As I debated whether to just hang up, her drunken voice was abruptly interrupted by another slurred exclamation, ‘Wait, wait!’ This time, it was my brother-in-law, who had clearly also indulged in some heavy day drinking.

-Hey, do you know about push-and-pull? Huh? Push-and-pull?

“…Push-and-pull?”

-That’s right. Push-and-pull! Ever tried it?

“Well, I’ve done the ‘pulling’ part sometimes…”

-What about the ‘pushing’?

“Why would I… uh…”

I almost asked, Why would I? but stopped myself. He was older, and it would have been rude, even if the question was absurd. Push Jung-in? The man doesn’t budge no matter how much I pull. Pushing seemed entirely out of the question.

-That’s the problem! That’s why you’ve been stuck in a one-sided crush for years with that face of yours!

Maybe I should just hang up now. As I moved to press the end call button, my brother-in-law launched into a rapid-fire speech.

-Look, the way I see it, it’s not like Jung-in has zero feelings for you. Think about it—why would he lie? It means he’s hiding something. Has he ever done that before? No, right? So what does that mean? Something’s changed. Something he feels the need to hide, even to the point of lying!

There was a strange logic to his argument. Most of all, I was tempted by the idea that Jung-in might actually have feelings for me. Nervously, I asked, “What’s he trying to hide, then?”

“How would I know that?”

From the background, Noona yelled, ‘Exactly! Who cares, it’s none of your damn business!’

-Anyway, what’s clear is that Jung-in is pushing you right now. An eye for an eye, a push for a push! Got it?

I nodded vigorously even though he couldn’t see me. For some reason, my brother-in-law suddenly felt like a master strategist. Then again, anyone who could live with Noona probably wasn’t an ordinary person.

After hanging up and once the neighbors had gone home, I continued to mull over his words. By the time I finished my shower and lay in bed in the dark, my mind was set. My brother-in-law was right. Now was the time to push back—clearly and decisively.

So, when the semester began, I ran away from home.

***