Professional Documents
Culture Documents
THE NOTES
THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL MOMENT
IN LIFE
1
Remember to buy a physical copy to support BTS, if you are able. Made by @pinkyymon
Photos by @acejeongkook
Contents
Prologue Good Kid 2
Shadow Of My Childhood 7
Everything Started from Here 17
End of Summer, Beginning of Solitude 32
I Must Survive 45
What to Look for When Lost 59
The Things with Wings 75
The Topmost Floor in the City 85
The Most Beautiful Day of Our Lives 113
After Returning from the Sea 126
The Direction Where the Sun Rises 169
Epilogue Nightmare 205
1
Prologue
Good Kid
2
SeokJin
10 October Year 9
“Let’s go, we have to get out of here!” I grabbed my friend’s hand and
ran to the rear door of our classroom. As I Looked back while running
down the hall, I saw the men spilling out of the classroom chasing us,
“Stop! Stop right there!” Their voices seemed to seize us by the back of
our necks.
We frantically thought of where to go as we darted down the stairs.
The first destination that come to mind was the hill behind our school.
We just needed to cross the playground and go out the school gate and
we would hit the bottom of the hill. Although it wasn’t that high, it was
pretty rocky and rugged. After running through the gate and rounding
the corner at full speed, we ignored the walking trail and jumped right
into the bushes. We waded through the dense limbs and kept running.
We ran for what felt like forever, finally stopping when the footsteps
behind us were gone.
We collapsed on the ground covered with layers of dried leaves,
sweat dripping from our faces. “They won’t be able to follow us here,
right?” My friend nodded, breathing heavily. We lifted our T-shirts to
wipe our faces with the hem. My friend’s face was wet with sweat and
tears. His wrists were bluish black with bruises. The neck of his T-shirt
was ripped.
“Dad hasn’t come home in over a week. Mom just keeps crying. The
cleaning lady and driver stopped coming, Aunt says that Dad’s company
shut down. Those men came to our house last night. They kept pressing
3
the bell and yelling for Dad. We stayed inside with all the lights turned
off, and they kept swearing in front of the door. We couldn’t sleep at
all.” My friend cried through his whole story. I couldn’t think of
anything to say. All I could do was to tell him not to cry.
It was shortly after the class had started when the front door swung
open and four or five men burst in. They were unruly and rash. “Which
one of you is Mr. Choi’s son? Come on out with us.” Stunned, our
teacher asked them to leave immediately, but they simply ignored her.
“We know you’re here. Come on out right now.” Some of the kids leered
at my friend sitting next to me and began whispering. The men noticed
and came toward us. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of class? Please
leave.” Our teacher tried to block them but one of the men pushed her
hard to the whiteboard. She fell to the ground.
The man who had shoved our teacher walked towards us in a
threatening manner. All the students’ heads turned toward us. The man
snatched my friend’s arm. “We’ll take you to your dad and get the
money from him. Surely he won’t turn away his son.” The men were
menacing, and the atmosphere was intimidating.
I looked into my friend’s face. He was trembling. Trembling hard
with his head bent low. He was my friend. I reached under the desk and
grabbed his hand. He looked up and I pulled his hand. “Let’s run.”
The sky was getting darker and darker. No one seemed to be chasing
us. We pushed our way through the trees and bushes to the walking trail.
An empty lot with exercise equipment appeared before us. I leaned
against the chin-up bar and my friend perched on a bench. “I’m afraid
you’ll get in trouble because of me.” My friend seemed uneasy when I
told him I would be fine. All I could think of in the classroom was to get
4
my friend out of there. I had to get him far away from those men. But, as
we started running away, I realized we had nowhere to go.
“Let’s go to my place.” It must’ve been around 9 p.m. as quite some
time had passed since the sun went down. I was starving. He must have
been, too. “Aren’t your parents home? Won’t you get in trouble for
taking me there?” “We can sneak in. If we get in trouble, then we get in
trouble.” My house was not that far from the foot of the hill. Soon, my
house came into sight in the distance. “Go in right behind when the gate
opens and hide behind a tree. I’ll open the window for you later.”
Mom was sitting on the couch in the living room. “Where have you
been? Your teacher called.” Instead of answering her question, I told her
I was sorry. It was usually the quickest way to end a conversation. Mom
said Dad would be home any minute and went into her room. My room
was opposite their room with the living room in the middle. I quickly
went into my room and opened the window.
We heard the front gate open while playing a computer game after a
snack of bread and milk. My friend looked at me with frightened eyes.
“It’s OK. Dad never comes in my room.” The door of my room burst
open before I finished speaking. We both sprang up from our seats with
fright.
“Are you Mr. Choi’s son?” Dad continued without waiting for an
answer. “Come on out. Someone is here to take you.” There was a man
standing by the door. I thought he was Mr. Choi at first but quickly
realized he wasn’t. He was one of those men who had marched into the
classroom earlier. I looked up at Dad. He looked exhausted, with knitted
brows and a subtly quivering eyelid. It was better not to bother him
when he was in that mood. While I was trying to read his face, the man
5
came into my room and grabbed my friend’s shoulder. I got in front of
my friend. “No, Dad, don’t let this man take him away. He is one of the
bad people.”
He just kept looking down at me and did not budge. “Please help
him, Dad. He is my friend.” The man tried to pull my friend outside. I
held onto my friend’s arm, and Dad grasped my shoulder. He grasped it
and pulled it hard. I had to let go of my friend’s arm. He was being
dragged out of the door. I squirmed and writhed to break free, but Dad
strengthened his grip. “It hurts!” I screamed, but Dad didn’t let go. He
just grasped my shoulder even tighter. Tears ran down my face.
I looked up at Dad. He was like a massive grey wall. His face was
expressionless, with even the exhausted look now gone. He slowly
opened his mouth with his eyes fixed on me. “SeokJin, be a good kid.”
He still had that blank look. But I knew what to do, what to do to stop
the pain.
“Seokjin.” I turned my head at my friend’s cry. He escaped the
man’s grip and was running towards my door. He was in tears. Dad,
with his one hand still gripping my shoulder, slammed the door shut
with his other hand. I apologized to him. “I’m sorry, Dad. I won’t make
trouble again.”
The next day, the seat next to mine was empty. My teacher said he
transferred to another school.
6
Shadow of My
Childhood
7
HoSeok
23 July Year 10
It all happened when I counted to four. I was counting some fruit,
maybe tomatoes or melons. I’m not sure. “Four.” as soon as I said it, a
vision from my childhood appeared before my eyes. I was holding hands
with someone.
It was the day I first went to an amusement park with Mom. I was
mesmerized by the colorful flags and rows of shops. People dressed like
clowns waved at me, and exciting music reverberated in every corner.
Mom stopped in front of a merry-go-round. White horses were going
round and round under sparkling lights. I was about to ask, “Mom, are
we here to ride this?” when someone called me. “HoSeok.” I looked up.
It was my teacher. My classmates were looking at me with
bewildered eyes. The vision from my childhood disappeared. My teacher
urged me to continue, and I began counting again. Five. Six. Mom
appeared before my eyes again. She looked exactly the same as a minute
ago. Her face was shaded as she was standing in front of the light, and a
breeze fanned her hair. Mom handed me a chocolate bar. “HoSeok, close
your eyes tight and don’t open them until you count to ten.”
Seven. Eight. Nine. I stopped there. My teacher made a gesture
signaling me to go on. My classmates stared at me again. I opened my
mouth, but no words came out. Mom’s face blurred. It felt as if she
would never come looking for me if I finished counting to ten. I fell to
the ground.
8
TaeHyung
29 December Year 10
9
JiMin
6 April Year 11
I went out the front gate of the Grass Flower Arboretum alone. The sky
was cloudy and it was a little chilly. But I was feeling good. It was school
picnic day, and as usual, my parents were too busy to make it. This
brought me down. But I received high evaluations in the flower drawing
contest, and my friends’ mothers all told me, “You’re so mature and
gentle.” I thought I was pretty cool.
“JiMin, wait here. It’ll just be a minute.” my teacher said after the
picnic was over and we got ready to leave the arboretum. I didn’t wait. I
knew I could find the way on my own. I held onto the straps of my
backpack with both hands and took confident steps. Everyone seemed to
be staring at me, so I kept my shoulders back. After walking for a while,
it began to rain. My classmates and their mothers had all left, and no one
paid attention to me. My legs hurt. I crouched under a tree. The rain
began to pour down more and more heavily. I stretched my neck to
check if anyone was coming from either side, but no one was around.
I began to run, holding my backpack over my head with both hands.
The rain kept falling harder and harder. My pants got soaked in the rain
after only a few steps. No shop, house, or bus stop came into sight. In
the far distance, I could see a gate. I ran towards it without thinking. My
hands felt numb from gripping the backpack. I was soaking wet, and my
teeth were chattering. On top of the gate was a sign that read Grass
Flower Arboretum. It was the back gate. There was a small warehouse
just inside the gate.
10
SeokJin
21 July Year 12
The entrance door kept opening and closing. I kept staring at it, sitting
in the airport waiting room. People with suitcases passed by, some
wearing sunglasses. The electronic display board continued to change
with arrivals, delays, and cancellations. The driver was murmuring with
his eyes fixed on his cell phone. “No word from him yet.” I looked down
at my watch. It was more than an hour past the time Dad promised he’d
arrive.
As long as I could remember, I was always by myself. Dad was busy
and Mom was indifferent. They told me to do what I was told and not
try anything else. When I disobeyed, they scolded me with silence. I
wanted to please my parents.
Mom died not so long ago. Dad told me not to cry and didn’t cry
himself. I tried to obey him. but it wasn’t easy. He decided to send me to
my maternal grandmother’s in the U.S. He didn’t seem very sad about it.
Dad’s driver handed me my passport. It was time to leave. I looked
back as I deaded for the departure gate. The entrance door closed. The
driver waved at me. The airplane finally began to speed down the
runway. Dad didn’t come.
I looked out the tiny window by me seat. Clouds passed by, and the
sky turned pitch black. The flight attendant brought me a meal, and the
juice cup fell when we hit turbulence. Flustered, I asked for some
napkins. The flight attendant asked me if I was OK. My fried rice and
meat were soaked in juice. My hands were sticky and my pants were all
11
wet. “No.” I whispered back, but the flight attendant didn’t seem to
hear. She said not to worry as she took away my tray. I nodded and kept
looking down at the floor.
12
NamJoon
21 June Year 16
13
YoonGi
19 September Year 16
Flames were devouring my house. Just this morning, it was whole and
intact, but now it was aflame. People who recognized me ran towards
me, shouting unintelligible words. The neighbors stamped their feet,
looking nervous. The fire truck couldn’t get my house because the
accessway was blocked. I stood there frozen. It was the end of summer
and first days of fall. The sky was blue and the air was crisp. I didn’t
know what to think, what to feel, or what to do. Suddenly, I thought of
Mom. At that very moment, my house collapsed with a thundering
crash. It was completely enveloped in flames. Or, rather, it was a giant
flame itself. The roof, pillars, walls, and my room tumbled down one by
one as if they were made of sand. All I could do was gaze at them with
vacant eyes.
People barged past me. I heard them saying the fire truck finally got
through. Someone grabbed me by the shoulder and asked urgently. “Is
someone in there?” I just stared blankly at her. “Is your mom in there?”
She shook me hard by the shoulder. “No, there is no one.” I heard myself
saying it. “What do you mean?” It was one of the ladies from my
neighborhood. “What happened to your mom? Where is she?” “There is
no one.” I wasn’t sure what I was saying. Someone barged past me again.
14
JungKook
11 September Year 17
I waited for ten days, but the birthday card never came. I opened the
bottom drawer and lifted a notebook to find four cards. Jungkook,
Happy Birthday, from Dad. I read these five words over and over again.
It was winter, and I was 7 years old. The voices from the living room
woke me up. My room was in the attic, and I could reach my parents’
room by going down five stairs and opening the sliding door. I reached
out to open the door and stopped. Although I was still young, I could
sense from the heavy atmosphere seeping through the door that this
wasn’t a good time.
Dad said that it was too difficult to go on and that she world was too
heavy for him to bear. Mom didn’t reply. She was probably crying
silently or not moving at all. A long silence ensued. Dad said he’d be
crushed if he went on living like this and he should leave now. Mom
vehemently protested, calling him the most irresponsible man. Then, I
heard my name. “What are you going to do about JungKook?” I waited
for a long time behind the sliding door, but Dad didn’t answer. Then I
heard the sound of the front door opening. “I’m completely empty, and
there’s nothing I can do for JungKook.” Those were my dad’s last words.
I ran back up the stairs to the attic. I moved my chair against the wall
right under the window and stood on it. Dad was walking down the
sloping road. First his legs disappeared, and then his waist, chest, and
shoulders. It seemed as if an unknown world beyond the road was slowly
swallowing him whole.
15
Someone jerked the door of my room open, and I instinctively
pushed the drawer with my foot. It was Mom. She said no birthday card
will ever come and Dad was just that kind of person. It was her usual
repertoire. Dad was feeble-minded, incompetent, and most importantly,
a social misfit who deserted us···. Mom was right. No birthday card will
ever come. I was the world that was too heavy for him to bear – that
world that he gave up on. A child who can never be the reason to endure
it all. That was me.
16
Everything Started
from Here
17
SeokJin
2 March Year 19
I stepped into the principal’s office following Dad. It smelled like
mildew. It’d been ten days since I came back from the U.S., and I’d just
found out the day before that I’d be one grade lower because of the
different school systems. “Please take good care of my son.” I shuddered
at Dad’s hand on my shoulder. “School is a dangerous place. It needs to
be tightly controlled.” The principal looked me in the eye. Wearing a
black suit, his wrinkly cheeks and the corner of his mouth quivered
slightly every time he opened it. The insides of his blackened lips were
even darker. “Don’t you agree, SeokJin?” As I squirmed at his abrupt
question, Dad tightened his grip on my shoulder. I felt a twinge on the
back of my neck. “I’m sure you’ll behave yourself.” The principal
obstinately tried to make eye contact, while Dad tightened down on me
further. I clenched my fists as his grip almost fractured my shoulder
blade. “You know you have to keep me informed, right? You’ll be a good
student, right?” The principal stared me down without a hint of a smile.
“Yes.” As soon as I squeezed the answer out, the pain in my shoulder
disappeared. Dad and the principal roared with laughter. I couldn’t even
raise my head. I kept looking down at Dad’s brown shoes and the
principal’s black shoes. The toecaps of their shoes shined brightly,
though it was a mystery to me where the light was coming from.
18
JiMin
12 March Year 19
19
listened to music, read book, danced, and fooled around. It felt as if we’d
been hanging out together forever.
20
YoonGi
12 June Year 19
21
“Hey, it’s too hot to go to an arboretum, Let’s go to the sea.” I tried
to say this as flatly as possible. I didn’t know what the Grass Flower
Arboretum was, but I had an instinctive feeling that we should avoid it.
“We’re short on cash.” HoSeok objected. “We can walk.” It was
TaeHyung again. “I think we’ll be able to figure something out once we
get to the train station. Of course, we’ll have to skip dinner.” NamJoon
chimed in. JungKook and TaeHyung whined. JiMin snapped out of it
after everyone started heading for the station. JiMin, with his head bent
deep and his shoulders hunched, looked like a little kid. I looked back at
the signpost. The words Grass Flower Arboretum were slowly
disappearing from our view.
22
JungKook
12 June Year 19
The sun was still beating down when we arrived at the train station by
the sea. Our shadows were almost invisible, hovering around our feet.
There was nowhere to hide from the sun. I thought I heard the roar of
waves, and soon a stretch of beautiful sandy beach unfolded before our
eyes. It was the beginning of the summer. Early vacationers were already
perched under parasols. There is something about the sea that makes me
well up with emotions. TaeHyung and HoSeok yelled out in excitement
and dashed ahead. As they beckoned. JiMin and SeokJin joined them.
They called out to me. “JungKook!” I waved at them and smiled
joyfully. Or, I smiled to pretend that I was joyful. I was still clumsy at
revealing my feelings and adapting to strange environments. Someone
once told me that I acted like a timid, intimidated child. It was the same
that day. I felt a bit ill at ease in the presence of the others, like I didn’t
belong there.
There wasn’t much to do on the beach, our impulsive destination.
“Let’s race.” HoSeok suggested suddenly and ran ahead. Everyone else
gave chase but soon gave up. It was too hot. NamJoon brought a torn
parasol he found somewhere. All seven of us lay down under the parasol.
Sunlight passed throught the tears in the parasol. Round spots of
sunlight continued to move bit by bit, and we wriggled to dodge them.
“Do you want to go see this rock?” HoSeok held up his phone.
There was a photo of a large rock on a beach. “They say, if you yell out
your dream towards the sea while standing on this rock, it will come
23
true.” JiMin took the phone and looked at the photo. “Isn’t it a bit far?
It’s at least 3.5km from here.” YoonGi rolled over. “I’m not going. I
don’t have any dream in the first place. Even if I did, I wouldn’t walk
3.5km in this heat···. No way.” TaeHyung sprang to his feet. “I’m
going.”
We began to walk under the torn parasol. The sandy beach was
burning under the scorching sun, and the air was so hot we could barely
breathe. We marched on the beach like stragglers, with our feet sinking
into the burning sand. HoSeok attempted to make jokes, but no one
responded. TaeHyung dropped down to the ground and declared he was
giving up. NamJoon picked him up to his feet again and gave him a push
on the back. All our faces were bright red and dripping with sweat. We
tried fanning ourselves with the hem of our T-shirts, but it only blasted
us with more hot air. Nevertheless, we kept moving forward.
Sometime before, I’d asked the others what their dreams were.
SeokJin said he dreamed of becoming a good person. YoonGi said it was
OK to have no dream. HoSeok just wished to be happy. And NamJoon.
What did he tell us? I can’t recall, but it was nothing special. Basically,
none of us had a dream to pursue. So, why were we walking along this
hot beach under the scorching sun to get to some rock 3.5 away, which
supposedly makes dreams come true?
Along the way, we threw off the parasol that NamJoon. HoSeok,
and SeokJin had taken turns holding. It did block the sun a little, but it
was just too heavy with its steel handle. “Stop doing that.” That’s what
YoonGi said to me while we were taking a short break after ditching the
parasol. At first, I was puzzled. In fact, I rarely talked with YoonGi and
didn’t even realize he was talking to me. YoonGi showed me his fingers.
24
“They’ll become like mine.” He also had raw cuticles from biting his
nails. I hesitantly put my hands into my pockets. I didn’t respond
because I didn’t know what to say.
“What’s your dream?” YoonGi asked. “You didn’t tell us yours.” He
didn’t seem genuinely interested in my answer. He just seemed to be
asking to keep the conversation going. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought
about it.” “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“By the way, what is a dream?” I asked after some hesitation.
YoonGi answered in his drawling voice. “I told you I don’t have one”
“No, I mean···.” I hesitated and continued. “I was wondering what a
dream is. What do people mean by a dream?” He looked at me and then
turned his gaze towards the sky, frowning. “Something you want to
achieve? I guess.”
HoSeok took over, waving his mobile phone at us. “The dictionary
definitions are first, ‘an imaginary series of events you experience while
you are asleep’; second, ‘a situation or an ideal you hope to realize’; and
third, ‘false expectation or thoughts that are almost unlikely or
completely unlikely to turn into reality.”
“Isn’t the third definition odd? How can something that is unlikely
to turn into reality be called a dream?” HoSeok responded. “People
sometimes tell you to wake up from your dream. So, if you’re dreaming
of turning back and going home before we get to the rock, wake up from
your dream!”
Some of us laughed out loud, but the rest showed no reaction,
probably because they had no more energy left. “That’s weird. How can
something that you want to achieve most in your life and something that
is unlikely to come true both be called a dream?” YoonGi said, giggling.
25
“Maybe it means that people are that desperate. They just can’t give up
on their dreams even though they know they won’t come true. Don’t
ever try to have a dream.” I looked at him in surprise. “How come?”
YoonGi had started biting his nails and, feeling conscious of my glance,
he put his hands in his pockets. “Because it’s tough having one.”
I was curious about why he bit his nails but didn’t ask. Instead, I
looked down at me own fingers. It’d been a habit since my childhood to
hurt myself. I don’t remember when it first started. All I can recall is the
distinct feeling of cutting my finger on a knife one day. After the painful
sensation passed, blood spurted from the wound. It felt numb and
tingling at the same time. Mom took me to the hospital, and I had the
wound stitched up, sterilized and dressed. She pretended to make a fuss
in front of the doctor but didn’t make me dinner or help me take my
medicine after we got home. I didn’t really expect her to. She’d been like
that since Dad left.
The wound healed very slowly because I kept pressing it with the tip
of my nail. Every time I pressed the wound, a sharp pain shot through
my finger. It sometimes hurt so much that I was close to tears. But it also
helped me feel awake again. Even now, I sometimes feel hollow.
Everything seems meaningless and all the energy drains out of me.
“How much longer do we have to walk?” At TaeHyung’s question,
HoSeok seemed to be at a loss. “It’s odd. I’m sure it must be somewhere
around here.” We all stood there and looked around. Only the sound of
waves breaking on the beach filled the void of silence under the blue sky.
Hundreds of thousands of pebbles were scattered across the beach like
grains of sand. The rock in the photo was nowhere to be seen.
26
“Should we keep going just a bit further?” “I can’t move another
step.” “I’m starving and thirsty.” In the middle of our conversation,
JiMin heaved a sigh with his eyes fixed on his phone. TaeHyung, who
was looking at JiMin’s phone, violently kicked at a pebble with a hollow
face. JiMin read the article aloud. A high-end resort will be built on this
beach, and the construction company blew the rock to pieces because it
obstructed the view from the first and second floors of the resort. We
took a sweeping look around all at once. Yellow bands were installed all
along the beach to mark that the area was designated as a development
zone, with mammoth excavators roaming about in the background. A
sign that read “Seawall Construction” came into view.
“I guess we came to the right place.” HoSeok said, tapping a pebble
with the tip of his sneaker. All these pebbles scattered across the beach
must be what’s left of that blown up rock. “It’s OK. There’s no such
thing as a rock that makes dreams come true anyways.” NamJoon
consoled HoSeok, lightly tapping his shoulder. “We didn’t have any
dreams in the first place.” “No possibility of realizing them even if we
did.” It’s a luxury for us to dream.” Everyone tried to say something
positive, but it wasn’t working. We weren’t expecting much, but we
didn’t come all the way here to see this, either.
YoonGi, who told me not to have dreams because they’re too
tough, was no different. After looking at the sea blankly for some
minutes, he began to bite his nail again. He seemed completely unaware
of what he was doing. “YoonGi.” He turned around to look at me.
“Don’t···.” My next words were interrupted by the loud crash of a
drilling sound. We all turned around at the same time. They were
resuming the construction work. The loud crash sounded as if it was
27
coming from a massive solid rock being drilled and made the
surrounding air roll and pitch heavily.
YoonGi frowned and tapped my shoulder. “What did you say?”
YoonGi mumbled something. “Don’t do that.” I cupped my hands
around my mouth and yelled. YoonGi didn’t seem to have heard me and
shook his head again, frowning. I was going to yell again, but he already
stopped biting his nails. I could see the sea beyond his shoulders. The
countless pebbles crunched under my feet. The rock must’ve been huge,
powerful, and old enough to make people’s dreams come true. But now,
it was no more than a pile of gravel. “Is the world tough for you, too?” I
asked. As expected, the earthshaking rumble of the drill swallowed my
voice. YoonGi’s puzzled look told me he didn’t understand. I screamed
again. “Do you want to give up on this world, too?” He murmured
something this time, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I shook my
head, and YoonGi yelled again. Looking at our mime, HoSeok and
TaeHyung burst into laughter. Their laughter was algo inaudible, but
their faces showed their mood.
The next minute, we were all looking out onto the sea and shouting
our dreams. HoSeok covered his ears with both hands and opened his
mouth wide. He seemed to be competing with the drilling sound, but it
was inaudible. It was the same for Taehyung, JiMin and NamJoon. Each
of us cried out a story that would never reach any destination. I was
standing behind YoonGi and SeokJin at first and walked past them to
the point where the waves rolled in. All of my senses came alive. The
others’ voices became entangled and formed an intricate web with the
somewhat fishy but refreshing scent of the sea and the strong breeze
winding round my fingers. Before I knew it, I was screaming out onto
28
the sea. Amidst the thundering drilling sound, I couldn’t even hear what
my dream was.
Then, the drilling sound stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The
entire world became silent, as if noise had been cut away clean with
knife. Just like that. But our cries were note in perfect order. TaeHyung
coughed hard as if he swallowed the wrong way while trying to close his
mouth in a hurry. Someone’s voice made an absurdly high note. The last
word heard was, “···, please!” by Seokjin. Instantly, we all closed our
mouths. For a fleeting second, no one moved, Then, we burst into
laughter together. We held our sides with laughter, all pointing at one
another.
“Let’s take a photo here.” At SeokJin’s suggestion, we stood in a row
with the sea as our background. SeokJin set the timer and came running
up. Click! This day in the sweltering heat of early summer became
imprinted on our memories in this photo. The way back was shorter
than the way to the rock. Just when we thought we were about halfway,
the deserted parasol appeared. Soon, the train station came into sight.
“Can I keep the photo?” SeokJin took the Polaroid out of his bag
and wrote “June 12” on the back. “Your dream that you yelled out, it
will come true.” I looked up at him. “Do you know what I said?”
SeokJin just tapped me on my shoulder without saying anything and
strode ahead.
29
SeokJin
25 June Year 19
30
classroom see teachers who used violence, endless tests, and homework?
Were there students like me who ratted out their friends to the
principal?
Suddenly, I began to wonder if Dad’s name was on the wall. Dad
also graduated from this school. He believed it added to the prestige of
our family to attend the same high school and university from
generation to generation. I browsed each and every name and finally
found his name among those written in the middle of the left column.
Underneath his name it read: Everything started from here.
31
End of Summer,
Beginning of Solitude
32
TaeHyung
20 March Year 20
I ran down the hall making a clumping sound and took a slide at the end.
NamJoon was standing in front of “our classroom.” Our classroom.
That’s what I called the classroom-turned-storage room. The classroom
for all seven of us. I quietly tiptoed up to NamJoon to try to knock his
hat off.
“Principal!” I heard the urgent voice through the slightly open
window of our classroom after I’d taken about five steps toward
NamJoon. It sounded like SeokJin. I stopped there. Seokjin is talking
with the principal? In our classroom? About what? I heard my name and
YoonGi’s name and saw NamJoon breathe in heavily. Sensing our
presence, SeokJin threw open the door. He had a phone in his hand. He
appeared startled and flustered.
I hid myself in one corner and watched them. SeokJin was opening
his mouth, seemingly to make an excuse for himself, and NamJoon
interrupted him. “It’s OK. There must’ve been a good reason.” I
couldn’t believe it. SeokJin told the principal what YoonGi and I were
up to the last few days. About how we ditched class, climbed over the
school wall, and got into a fight. And NamJoon was saying it was OK.
“What’re you doing here?” I turned around in surprise to find
HoSeok and JiMin. HoSeok gave me a look that said he was even more
surprised than I was and put his arm around my shoulders. He dragged
me into the room. NamJoon and SeokJin looked over at us. NamJoon
beamed at me as if nothing strange had happened. At that moment, I
33
sorted out my thoughts. NamJoon must have his reasons. He’s much
more knowledgeable, intelligent, and mature than I am. And this is our
room. I walked towards NamJoon and SeokJin, smiling that silly-looking
smile of mine that everyone called “a square smile.” I decided not to tell
anyone about their conversation that I just overheard.
34
NamJoon
15 March Year 20
35
JungKook
25 June Year 20
I smoothed down the piano keys with my fingers, dust covering my
fingertips. I pressed the keys more strongly, but I couldn’t make them
sound like YoonGi did. It’d been two weeks since YoonGi stopped
coming to school. Rumor had it that he was finally expelled. HoSeok
didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask.
On that day two weeks ago, YoonGi and I were the only one in the
room when the teacher came in. It was open house day. We went there
without any plan, we just didn’t want to stay in our classrooms. YoonGi
didn’t look back and went on playing the piano. I was lying on two desks
put together with my eyes closed. Something about Yoongi and the
piano didn’t seem to match, but the two were actually inextricable. I had
no idea how much time had passed. Suddenly, the door burst open with
a thundering sound as if someone had broken it down. The piano
stopped.
I kept backing away as the teacher slapped my face until I fell down.
I sat hunched up, putting up with the ceaseless stream of abusive words.
All of sudden, the teacher stopped yelling. I looked up to see YoonGi
stepping in between and pushing the teacher’s shoulder. I could also see
the teacher’s dumbfounded look over YoonGi’s shoulder.
I pressed the keys and tried to mimic the tune he’d played that day.
Will he really be expelled? Will he ever come back?
36
He said he was used to being hit and kicked by teachers. If I weren’t
there, would he still have turned against the teacher? If I weren’t there,
would he still be playing the piano here?
37
YoonGi
25 June Year 20
As soon as I stepped into the room, I took out an envelope from the
bottom drawer of the desk. I took out the half burned piano key from
the envelope, threw it into the trash can, and lay down on the bed. I was
still breathing hard and couldn’t stop my mind from racing.
I went back to the burned down house once after the funeral. A
skeleton of what used to be a piano was still standing where Mom’s
room used to be. I flopped down on the ground. The afternoon sunlight
climbed over the window and then shrank away. I raised my head and
saw several piano keys in the distance. What notes were they? How many
times had her fingers touched those keys? I stood up and put one of the
keys in my pocket.
Four years had passed. The house was filled with silence. Silence that
drove me crazy. It was past ten, so Dad must’ve gone to bed. Everything
and everyone inside the house had to keep still after he went to bed. That
was the rule. I wasn’t familiar with such deep silence. Or with being
punctual and following the rules. It was even more unbearable that Iwas
living in this house despite all that. I was receiving an allowance from
him, I was eating dinner with him, and I was getting scolded by him. I
sometimes challenged him and caused trouble, but I didn’t have the
courage to desert him, to run away and find true freedom.
I picked the piano key out of the trash can under my desk. When I
opened the window, the night air blew in. My mind re-played the events
of the day in quick succession. I threw the piano key out of the window
38
with all my might. It had been two weeks since I went to school. They
said I was expelled. I might get kicked out of the house even if I wanted
to stay. I couldn’t hear the piano key hit the ground. Now I’d never
know what note it made. It’d never make a sound again. I’d never play
the piano again.
39
SeokJin
17 June Year 20
The shrill whine of cicadas hit my ears as soon as I stepped out of the
school building. The playground was full of students laughing, playing,
and racing around. It was the beginning of summer vacation, and
everyone was excited. I wove my way quickly through the crowd with
me head down. All I wanted was to get out of there.
“SeokJin!” Someone’s shadow jumped into my path, and I hastily
raised my head. It was HoSeok and JiMin. They were smiling their big,
kind-hearted smiles as alway and looked at me with mischievous eyes.
“You’re not going straight home on the first day of vacation, are you?”
HoSeok said. tugging at my arm. I muttered something that sounded
like “yes” and turned my head away.
What had happened that day was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to
happen. I didn’t think JungKook and Yoongi would be there in the
classroom-turned-storage room at that hour. The principal was
suspecting that I was covering for the others. He threatened to tell Dad
how bad I was doing at school. I had to say something. I told him about
our hideout because I thought it would be empty. But it led to YoonGi
getting expelled. No one knew I was mixed up in it.
“Have a good vacation! Let’s keep in touch.” HoSeok must have
read my face. He slowly let go of my hand and said goodbye even more
brightly. I couldn’t reply. There was nothing I could say. My first day at
this school crossed my mind as I passed through the school gate. We
were all late and got punished. But we were together, so we could laugh
40
together. I had ruined all those memories we shared. After I decided to
live like Dad wanted me to, after I made up my mind not to chase
happiness, I had bitten off more than I could chew.
41
HoSeok
15 September Year 20
JiMin’s mom walked across the emergency room towards the bed. She
checked the name tag on the foot of the bed and the dangling IVs above
it and removed a dried blade of grass from JiMin’s shoulder. I hesitantly
walked towards her and bowed. I felt I had to tell her why JiMin ended
up in the emergency room and how he had a seizure at the bus stop.
JiMin’s mom seemed to realize I was there for the first time. But she
immediately turned her eyes away after saying a quick thank you
without waiting for me to explain.
It wasn’t until the doctors and nurses began to move his bed and I
was about to follow that JiMin’s mom glanced at me again. She thanked
me once again and pushed my shoulder. On second thought, she didn’t
actually push me. She just placed her hand on my shoulder and quickly
removed it. In that fleeting moments, a line was drawn between us. That
line was firm and solid. It was cold and undeletable. I’d never be able to
cross over that line. I lived at an orphanage for more than ten years. I
could recognize lines like that with all my senses, see it in people’s eyes,
and feel it in the atmosphere.
I stepped back disconcertedly and fell backwards. JiMin’s mom just
gazed at me blankly. She was small and beautiful, but her shadow was
large and chilly. That large shadow cast over me as I sat crumpled on the
emergency room floor. When i looked up, JiMin’s bed was gone.
42
JungKook
30 September Year 20
“JungKook, you don’t still go there, do you?” I just looked down at the
toes of my sneakers. I refused to answer, so the teacher struck my head
with attendance book. I still didn’t give in. It was where we hung out.
Since I first stepped into that room, not a day had passed without me
stopping by. The others wouldn’t have known. They had other plans
and part-time jobs and didn’t always drop by. YoonGi and SeokJin
sometimes didn’t show up for days. But I was different. I went there
without exception. There were days when no one else came. That was
fine with me. It was fine because that room was there and because the
others would show up later, or tomorrow, or the next day.
“I knew you were hanging out with the wrong crowd.” The
attendance book hit my head again. When I raised my eyes and stared at
the teacher, the attendance book came down again. The scene of
YoonGi getting beat flooded my mind. I clenched my teeth and
restrained myself. I didn’t want to lie and say I didn’t go there.
And then I was standing in front of the room. It felt as if the others
were there on the other side of the door. When it opens, they’ll look back
and complain about what took me so long. SeokJin and NamJoon must
be reading, TaeHyung must be playing a game, YoonGi must be in front
of the piano, and HoSeok and JiMin must be dancing.
But, when I opened the door, only HoSeok was there. He had come
to clear out what was left of our things. I stood frozen with my hand on
the doorknob, HoSeok came towards me, put his arm over my
43
shoulders, and walked me back outside. “Let’s go.” The door of the
room closed behind us. I realized then and there. Those days were gone
and would never come again.
44
I Must Survive
45
NamJoon
17 December Year 21
I continued to slow my pace and finally came to a stop. It was dawn in a
country village where even the buses didn’t run frequently. The entire
village was blanketed under luminous snow that had fallen all night. The
trees were hunched up like massive white beasts and shed hair-like snow
every time the wind blew. I knew without looking back that I was the
only one leaving footprints across the snowfield in the village. Both of
my feet had long been soaking wet because of the cracked soles of my
sneakers. I once heard a saying that God makes us lonely to lead us to
Him.¹ But I was not lonely. I was not following the path towards myself.
This was a retreat. I was running away from myself.
My family arrived in this village last fall. The amount of belongings
we brought continued to get smaller each time we moved to a new town.
Now we only needed a small delivery van to move. We were in no
position to be picky about where we lived. There were only two
conditions. One was a hospital for Dad, and the other was an employer
who was willing to hire someone without a high school diploma.
This village had both. The bus that ran twice a day stopped in front
of the country-run hospital, and a series of small eateries lined the stream
behind the town. These eateries sold stew and fries made with small fish
caught from the stream, and the summer months were their high season.
Crowds seeking a waterside excursion poured in from nearby cities, and
the demand for deliveries to those staying at the village with the rest area
52
much? Let me at least know the reason.” I yelled at the dogs barking
their heads off. I heard about TaeHyung’s accident the next day.
When I dropped by the eatery along the stream, I saw the owner
talking with a police officer. I instinctively froze. I thought he had come
for me. I had damaged the scooter on the previous day. I could get in
trouble for driving under age and without a driver’s license. Should I run
back home? But the bus wouldn’t come for hours. It just wasn’t possible
to run away with Dad in his condition.
“Did you hear?” It was the owner of another eatery next door. She
said the accident happened when TaeHyung was driving downhill after
the delivery. His body was just lying there for more than three hours
until someone in a passing car found him. A resident in the town with
the rest area called the eatery owner, but no one set out to find him.
The police officer said TaeHyung was an unskilled driver. He also
blamed him for not wearing a helmet. I saw a helmet, which I’d never
seen before, placed on the counter of the eatery. The owner kept saying
that he never forced TaeHyung to go out delivering and even tried to
talk him out of it. It was true. TaeHyung and I had insisted that we were
OK with it. The neighbors all chipped in. It was a small village where
everyone knew everyone else. They had at least a memory or two about
everybody there, whether it was about a fist fight, backbiting, or
betrayal. A series of episodes about him came flowing out. He lived with
his mom and sister and had no dad.
TaeHyung’s mom writhed in agony on a bench in front of the
eatery and wailed. Bring my son back. Bring my poor, poor son back. It’s
a wrongful death···. At first, the neighbors tried to soothe her and wept
with her. But it was cold and the sun set early. In the evening,
53
TaeHyung’s mom was left alone, and the smell of dinner cooking flowed
out through the windows as always. Every time wind blew on the trees
lining the stream, snow fell in lumps. She just sat there in the middle of
it.
I saw her sitting alone while I was taking Dad home from the
hospital. Without realizing it, I stopped walking and remembered the
spot of the accident. After hearing about TaeHyung, I had walked along
the trail by myself. My breath froze and fell to the ground as ice crystals.
TaeHyung’s shape drawn in a white outline on the road was half erased.
I stopped at his feet. Damp leaves were rolling around, and the grayish
traces of calcium chloride were still left behind. That could have been
me lying there. If I had made that delivery, if it had been me instead of
TaeHyung, then this would be my outline. It could’ve been my family
wailing on that bench instead of TaeHyung’s.
I bent my steps after Dad coughed violently. “NamJoon.” Dad
called to me when we were about to enter the alley after crossing the
bridge. As soon as I slowed my pace, the dogs started to bark. Dad
continued in a feeble, frail voice. It was hardly audible, lost amidst the
fierce barking. I pretended that I had not heard him.
One more week passed. The village quickly returned to normal.
TaeHyung’s mom sometimes cried bitterly in front of the eatery, but no
one shared in her sorrow. People just snubbed TaeHyung’s sister until
she took her away. Some said it was just a traffic accident. I began to
work at another eatery. In fact, I was charged with all deliveries to the
village with the rest area. One more heavy snowfall followed, and the
trail continued to freeze and thaw. Delivery orders were only trickling in
now, but no one applied to do the delivery job. I made five or six
54
deliveries a day, and my income increased that much. I always made sure
to wear the helmet and protective gear. I never took my eyes off the roar
with every nerve at attention.
Last night, I made my last delivery. I didn’t know it would be me last
at the time, but it was. The rest area closed down for the winter months
anyways. When I went up there, people were gathered in the office.
They seemed to be discussing the sales of the facility. I didn’t recognize
some of the faces. They must be stranger who just moved in. While I put
down the food and took the money, one of them began to talk about
TaeHyung's accident. Another stranger clicked his tongue and
mentioned how dangerous it was to ride a motorbike on a snowy day.
The stranger who first mentioned TaeHyung’s accident warned me to
always take extra care. I thanked him for worrying about me. But I
didn’t mean it. If he was so concerned about the snow-covered slope and
my safety, he shouldn’t have ordered food in the first place.
“Do you know what’s really dangerous?” the stranger blurted out
right before I closed the door behind me. “Calcium chloride and wet
leaves, not the snow itself. Unless you’re a very good driver, you’ll skid if
you step on them. Didn’t it snow that day? Then, he must’ve···.” His last
words went unheard as the door closed. I cut across the empty, dismal
rest area. I passed the narrow snack bar and the local specialty discount
counter and headed for the exit.
I walked down the stair one at a time. It was below zero, but it didn’t
feel that cold. The key kept slipping from my fingers, and I kept turning
it to no avail. I clenched and unclenched my fist. The old scooter rattled
like crazy and finally started. I pulled out of the rest area slowly. A curve
began at the rest area signpost. I made a right turn in a wide circle, ran
55
down a short straight section, and came to another curve that wound to
the left. This was the spot where I slipped first and then TaeHyung ran
into trouble.
I kept my eyes forward and rapidly passed the spot. I tried to
convince myself that I wasn’t taking my eyes off the road to stay safe, but
it was guilt. Guilt for surviving alone. Guilt for feeling relieved that I was
the one who was still alive. Guilt for not being able to come forward.
Guild for not speaking up to defend his driving skills and for not
confessing that I’d never seen a helmet at the eatery. Maybe I was just a
hypocrite pretending to have a guilty conscience.
I had scattered the wet leaves on the spot where Taehyung went
down. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I was responsible for all of it. I
was the one who’d sprinkled the calcium chloride. With good intention,
to prevent the road from icing over. In fact, I did it for myself because I
truly believed that I’d make the next delivery and the one after that. “Do
you know what’s really dangerous?” What I’d heard at the rest area
replayed in my mind. “He must’ve ridden over it and slipped.” If I’d
removed the leaves, if I hadn’t sprinkled calcium chloride, would he have
been safe?
Several people were already at the bus stop, waiting for the first bus
of the day. I nodded my head in greeting and then kept it bent. I tried
not to make eye contact with anyone. The first bus of the day came into
sight.
The bus gradually came to a stop. With my head bent low, I boarded
it after the other passengers. I didn’t have a specific plan. I was just
sneaking away. From Mom’s exhausted face. From my brother going
astray. From Dad struggling against his illness. From our family’s fortune
56
going downhill. From my family requiring sacrifice and obedience from
me. From me trying to resign to my fate. And, most of all, from poverty.
Poverty eats into the heart of life. It turns what’s precious into
something meaningless. It makes you give up what shouldn’t be given
up. It makes you doubt, fear, and despair.
Last night, I left the rest area, dropped by the eatery, and then went
home. I don’t remember who I met and what I talked and thought about
in between. My entire body and mind felt numb. I couldn’t tell whether
it was windy, whether it was cold, how it smelled, or who I ran into. My
brain seemed to have frozen. I was moving mechanically like a zombie
oblivious of who I am, what I’ve done, what I’m doing, and what I’m
thinking. It was the barking dogs that shook me out of it at the mouth of
alley leading home. In that moment, all my senses, which had been
paralyzed, awoke at once and countless scenes from my past spread out
before my eyes: the days of hopping from one place to another, the
moment I slipped on the road, me crawling to the eatery owner and
competing with the other boys to land the delivery jobs, the boys who
laughed at me, and me looking at my peers in their school uniforms
waiting for the bus. The sound of the barking dogs and the sight of their
threatening eyes filled with hatred were added to these scenes.
I almost screamed, “Stop it! What do you want me to do?” But I
held myself back. Dad’s voice rang in my ears. Dad’s feeble, frail voice. I
thought of what he had told me that night we came home from the
hospital··· what I pretended not to hear but heard clear as day through
the barking of dogs. What I had dwelled on over and over since that day.
What I had tried not to think about. “Go, NamJoon. You must survive.”
57
The bus departed, set to arrive in Songju a few hours later. I didn’t
leave a message when I left Songju one year ago. Now, I’m returning to
the city without any notice. I thought of my friends.
I haven’t kept in touch with any of them. I wondered what they
were doing and if they were still there. I couldn’t see outside through the
window covered with frost. I slowly wrote on the window with my
forefinger. “I must survive.”
58
What to Look for
When Lost
59
HoSeok
2 March Year 22
I liked mingling with people. As soon as I left the orphanage, I started
working at Two Star Burger as a part-timer. I had to deal with countless
people, smile constantly, and always look energetic. I loved that job.
There’d been few things that made me smile or feel energetic in my life. I
came across many more bad people than good people. That must’ve
been why I enjoyed that job so much. While always squeezing out a
laugh, deliberately speaking in a higher tone, and pretending to be
cheerful in front of the customers, I actually did change. I felt better
after laughing out loud and became more kind-hearted through working
hard to serve customers in a friendly way. Of course, there were tough
days. It took all my energy to take each step on my way home at the end
of the day. Sometime I suffered from bullying customers. But I just
smiled and laughed. Laughing gave me new energy.
I graduated from high school in February. A high school diploma
didn’t bring much change. It only let me work more hours at the burger
joint. I made a little bit more money but it still wasn’t enough to move to
a better room. With the start of the new semester, Two Star Burger was
crowded with freshmen looking dazed and upperclassmen trying to look
mature. They were all cute. We used to be like them once. What are the
others up to? I thought of them from time to time.
The last time I saw SeokJin was the beginning of summer vacation.
He seemed to be avoiding me, so I kept my distance. I heard later that he
transferred to another school. YoonGi, as usual, didn’t respond to our
60
calls, and no one knew what happened to NamJoon. TaeHyung, who
was particularly fond of NamJoon, began to ditch school at some point
and was said to be in and out of the police station for drawing graffiti on
the street. JungKook occasionally appeared in front of the glass door of
the burger joint. It seemed like he was always getting into fights as he
usually had cuts and bruises on his face. As for JiMin, the last time I saw
him was when he was wheeled out of the emergency room. The
memories of that day frequently crossed my mind and haunted me. Did i
do something wrong? Did I miss something?
Another customer stepped into the store. I inhaled deeply and
greeted him in a high tone. I smiled a big smile and looked towards the
door. It was someone I knew.
61
TaeHyung
29 March Year 22
After the owner of the gas station spit on the ground and left, I just
continued to lie there bunched up on the ground. He had caught me
drawing graffiti on the back wall, and he beat me mercilessly. I thought I
was used to getting hit, but it turned out I wasn’t.
I started spray-painting graffiti some time ago. I thoughtlessly
sprayed paint on a wall from a can someone had thrown away. The
yellow paint sprayed onto a gray wall stood out distinctly. The sight felt
oddly uneasy. I picked up another paint can and sprayed it over the
yellow paint. I didn’t like it either. Soon, I had used up all the cans. After
the last one ran out, I threw it on the ground and stepped back. I was out
of breath as if I had just sprinted at full speed.
I didn’t know what the colors on the wall signified. I also didn’t
know what I had drawn and why I had drawn it. But I could tell that it
showed the state of my mind. I had sprayed my mind onto the wall. At
first, I thought it was ugly. And dirty. And stupid, useless, and pitiful. I
didn’t like it. I rubbed at the wet paint with the palm of my hand. I
wanted to erase it all. The layers of paint smudged and blended together
to create more combinations of colors. But I couldn’t erase them. I sat
down and leaned against the wall. It didn’t matter whether I liked it or
not. It didn’t matter whether it was ugly or beautiful. It was just there as
a part of me.
I sat upright and began to cough. Blood splattered onto the palm of
my hand. Someone’s hand picked up a spray can. I raised my head
62
following the hand, and a familiar face came into sight. It was NamJoon.
He held out his hand. I just kept looking up at him. Namjoon pulled me
up. His hand was warm.
63
YoonGi
7 April Year 22
I stopped at the sound of a clumsy piano performance. In the dead of
night, a fire in a metal drum made crackling sounds in the middle of an
empty construction site. I recognized the tune as one I’d been playing
not long ago but made little of it. I walked along carelessly with my eyes
closed. I was drunk, staggering and stumbling. With the heat from the
fire, the sound of the piano, the night air, and the effect of alcohol all
melted away.
I came to at the sound of loud honking. The car had just barely
missed me. The dazzling lights of the headlamps, the wind stirred up by
the car, and the remaining buzz of the alcohol all made me feel giddy. I
heard the driver curse. I was about to hurl some back when I realized I
couldn’t hear the piano anymore. No piano, only the crackling of the
blazing fire, the whirring wind, and the sound of cars zipping by. Why
had it stopped? Who was playing?
A flame jumped out of the drum with a crack and flew up into the
dark sky. I looked blankly at the flame turning to pitch-black ash and
falling to the ground. My face flushed from the heat of the fire. At that
moment, I heard a loud bang, as if someone had slammed down on the
piano keys with his fists. I looked back instinctively. My blood surged
through my body. The nightmare I’d had in my childhood. It was the
same sound I’d heard in that nightmare.
I started running towards the music shop. I wasn’t in control, my
body just moved on its own. I felt as if I’d done this countless times. I
64
wasn’t sure what it was, but it seemed like I’d forgotten something
priceless.
Someone was sitting in front of a pino in the music shop with a
broken window. It’d been several years, but I recognized his face
immediately. I turned my eyes away. I didn’t want to get involved in
someone else’s life. I didn’t want to try to console someone who was
lonely. I didn’t want to be important for someone. I wasn’t sure I could
protect that someone till the end. I wasn’t confident I could stand by
that someone till the end. I didn’t want to hurt that someone. I didn’t
want to get hurt. It’s hard enough for us to try to save ourselves when
the last moments comes, let alone someone else.
I bent my steps. I was going to turn away and leave without looking
back. But I was approaching the piano before I knew it. I pointed out
the wrong note. JungKook looked up at me. It was the first time we’d
seen each other since I dropped out of school.
65
SeokJin
11 April Year 22
With a sharp screech, the car barely stopped in time. I didn’t see the
traffic light change, distracted by other thoughts. Students clad in
familiar school uniforms stared at me through the car window as they
crossed the road. Some looked at me angrily, some laughed briskly as if
making jokes with their friends, some walked with their eyes fixed on
their books, and some took a look around while talking on the phone.
They all formed a peaceful scene.
When the “walk” signal began to flash, impatient cars budged and
stirred. Those who jumped into the crosswalk at the last minute hurried
across. I stepped on the accelerator.
I arrived at the intersection with the gas station in no time. I saw
NamJoon filling up a car in the distance. I clenched the steering wheel. I
knew what to do, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t frightened. Would I
be able to put an end to this string of bad luck and pain? Doesn’t
repeated failure mean there’s no possibility of success? Doesn’t it mean
we should give up? Is happiness really a vain hope for us? My head was
throbbing with these thoughts.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. I thought of the faces of
YoonGi, HoSeok, JiMin, TaeHyung, and JungKook one after another. I
changed lanes and pulled into the gas station. NamJoon was
approaching. I lowered the car window. “Long time, no see!”
66
NamJoon
11 April Year 22
As I finished filling up a car and turned around, something brushed
against my cheek and fell to the ground. I took a step back and looked
down to find a crumpled banknote at my feet. I bent down and reached
for it. The people in the car snickered. I was petrified. SeokJin was
watching me in the distance. I couldn’t look up. What would I do when
I met the eyes of those who drive around in fancy cars and arrogantly
sneer at others? I should stand against them. I should stand up for myself
if they treat me unfairly. It wasn’t a matter of courage, pride, or equality.
It was just a matter of course.
But this was a gas station, and I was a part-timer. I had to pick up the
trash thrown out of a car windows. I had to just stand there and take it
when customers cursed. I had to pick up the banknotes when customers
threw them on the ground. I’d lived that way all my life. It was
mortifying, but I had to endure it. I clenched my fists. My nails sank into
my flesh.
I kept my eyes fixed on the ground when someone else picked up the
banknote. The people in the car grumbled at their spoiled fun and
pulled away. They were gone, but I didn’t raise my head. I just couldn’t
meet SeokJin’s eyes. He already knew how cowardly and poor I was. But
I didn’t want him to know the naked truth about me. He just stood
there on the edge of my sight. He didn’t come closer or start talking.
67
JungKook
11 April Year 22
Finally, I got my wish. I deliberately bumped into thugs on the street and
they beat me throughly. I laughed while they did it, so they clobbered me
even more, calling me crazy. I leaned against a store shutter and looked
up into the sky. It was night. no thing twinkled in the pitch-black sky. A
clump of grass came into sight off in the distance by a paved road. When
the wind blew, the grass lay down on its back. It looked like me. I
laughed out loud to keep my tears down.
I closed my eyes and saw a vivid image of my stepfather clearing his
throat. my stepbrother giggled. My stepfather’s relatives turned their
eyes away or continued their idle talk. They acted as if I weren’t there, as
if my existence meant nothing. Mom was flustered. I stirred up dust as I
picked myself up off the ground and coughed. The pit of my stomach
hurt like I’d been stabbed with a knife.
It was a deserted, unfinished building where construction had been
halted. I tightrope-walked along the guard rail installed on the rooftop
with my arms spread out. I stretched my foot out into the void, and the
darkness began to permeate through my toes. The colorful nightscape of
the city unfolded down below me. Neon signs, honking cars, and the
acrid smell of dust were all jumbled up together in the darkness in a
swirling torrent. I felt dizzy and staggered. As I spread my arms out even
wider to keep my balance, a thought came to me. Just one more step
forward. That’s all it’d take to end this. I leaned over towards the dark
void. The darkness that seeped into my toes sprang up at me as if it’d
68
gobble my entire body up. I closed my eyes, and the disorderly city, the
noise, and the fear all disappeared. I held my breath and slowly leaned
over again. I cleared my head, I didn’t think of anyone. I didn’t want to
leave anything in my head. I didn’t want to remember anything. This
was the end.
My phone rang. I came back to myself as if awakened from a long
dream. All my senses instantly returned to normal. I took out my phone.
It was YoonGi.
69
YoonGi
11 April Year 22
70
trying to reason with TaeHyung, HoSeok was always bustling around,
and JungKook always paced around like he never knew where to stand
How long had it been? I couldn’t recall the last time we’d all been
together. What happened to Seokjin and JiMin? I wondered, although it
wasn’t in my character. I’d never been here before, but it felt strangely
comfortable. I looked out the door. Suddenly, I felt an urge to run out of
this place. A mysterious anxiety flooded in after that inexplicable
peacefulness. My thoughts settled on that room we used as a hideout in
high school. We used to laugh and chat together, but those days were
long gone. Likewise, the time we spend here will come to an end. Is there
any point to this good feeling, sudden sense of belonging, and
groundless anticipation?
71
SeokJin
11 April Year 22
72
NamJoon
28 April Year 22
73
TaeHyung awoke with a start when I shook his shoulders and sat
there absent-mindedly for a long time. He just let his tears run down his
face and rambled on. He said YoonGi died, JungKook fell of the
rooftop, and I got caught in a fight. He said he had had that dream
repeatedly. It was so vivid that it felt like reality and reality felt like a
dream. “Don’t leave me.” The face of that boy in the country village was
superimposed on TaeHyung’s face. I couldn’t bring myself to give him
an answer. I couldn’t bring myself to say that he didn’t need to worry
because I wasn’t going anywhere.
74
The Things With
Wings²
2) “Hope” is the Thing with Feathers by Emily Dickinson
75
Seokjin
2 May Year 22
I was so nervous that my fingers stiffened. I clenched and unclenched
my fists. What if I fail? I’d done this repeatedly, but it felt terrified each
time. I took a slow, deep breath and thought about YoonGi. He must be
drunk by now, clicking his lighter with one hand and holding his phone
with the other. He might be lying on the couch, contemplating the
reasons why he should go on living. Or the reasons not to.
How does YoonGi see the world and himself? I faced this question
every time I tried to save him. I couldn’t understand how he could keep
trying to destroy himself. It didn’t mean I was overjoyed living in this
world or that each and every day of my life was filled with happiness. In
fact, I was never captivated by anything, not even by life and death.
Looking back, I was no different when I first started all this. Would I
be able to straighten out the errors and mistakes and save all of us? I
didn’t grasp the depth and weight of this question. It was true that I
desperately wanted to save all of us. No one deserves to die, to despair, to
be suppressed, and to be despised. On top of that, they were my friends.
We might’ve had our flaws and scars and have been twisted up and
distorted. We might’ve been nobodies. But we were alive. We had days
to live, plans to follow, and dreams to fulfill.
At first. I didn’t think much of it. I thought it’d all depend on how
much effort I put in after I figured out who I needed to save and from
what. That was what I’d thought. I believed I could solve it all by
persuading them and changing things. I was that simple and naive. But it
76
was no more than an attempt to save my own skin. After a series of trials
and errors, I had a realization. It wasn’t so simple to save the others.
Yoongi wasn’t easy to handle. He was probably the most difficult of
all. He was always changing the time and place of his attempts at suicide.
I had to approach him differently than the others. A solution that
worked fine the last time didn’t work the next time. Just when I thought
I’d finally unraveled one mystery, it led to another hitch.
At first, I couldn’t put my fingers on his reasons, After everything,
all I could guess that YoonGi’s distress was connected to his inner
conflict. NamJoon got caught in a fight because of those rude customers
at the gas station. But YoonGi was different. He had no definite target
and no definite cause. He had too many variables.
I tried to imagine what was going on in YoonGi’s head. Once, I
followed him secretly for hours. His footsteps were insecure and
unpredictable. He staggered through the night streets and tried to fling
himself into the fire. He sometimes squatted on the ground and listened
to music that flowed out of somewhere inside an underground shopping
arcade. After a night of following him, I realized how dry, dull, and flat
my own life was. It wasn’t that I envied YoonGi. The suffering he must
have endured, going from one extreme to the other, were beyond my
imagination. All I could do was watch him stagger on.
One setback was always followed by another. A new layer of despair
came down even before the previous one was stripped. I might not be
able to save YoonGi after all. I couldn’t find a breakthrough. But at that
moment, hope flew in. I once heard that hope had wings. It was a little
bird with wings.
77
A bird flew into YoonGi’s workroom, which was in an abandoned
building in the middle of a redevelopment neighborhood. It’d been
decided to demolish the neighborhood a long time ago, but it was left
deserted when the redevelopment plan stalled. The bird flew in through
a broken window. YoonGi was standing in the middle of the workroom
with a lighter in his hand. The entire workroom smelled strongly of
gasoline. I was standing right outside the door. I was about to jump in
when I heard a big thud and the flapping of wings. The door was half
open, so I peeked through. YoonGi had his back to me.
The bird collapsed on the floor. It fluttered its wings again but failed
to rise into the air. YoonGi stood completely still and looked down at the
bird. I still couldn’t see his face. The bird flopped around the workroom
in search of a way out. It bumped its wings into the wall and the chair,
and the feathers that fell out drifted around on the floor. YoonGi was
just gazing at it. His hand holding the lighter still hung in the air. He
finally dropped his arm, sank down, and covered his head with both
hands.
I went into his workroom that night. It was spacious but desolate. A
dirty sofa, chair, and piano were all I could find there. Crumpled pieces
of paper were scattered all over the floor. He must’ve tried to start a fire.
Some of them looked like lines of music, with sentences of lyrics
scribbled on them.
I looked around. I found the thing with wings. The bird was
crouching behind the piano, with dried blood around the wounds on its
wings. It seemed petrified and cowered in fear when I came near. Tiny
drops of blood were smeared on the floor. Bread crumbs and water were
set out in front of the piano.
78
I took a step back. Even if I let it out the window, it wouldn’t be able
to fly yet. How long would it take for the wounds to heal? Would
YoonGi remain safe and sound while the bird was staying here? Then, a
thought came to my mind. YoonGi must’ve stopped himself because of
this. This wounded little bird. A fragile thing that couldn’t protect or
save itself. A tiny being that entrusted its life to YoonGi.
After that day, I had a realization. If all the variables related to
YoonGi’s suicidal attempts existed within YoonGi, why not drag at least
one of them out? I’d have to seek the right target and create the right
situation. A variable that could give YoonGi a reason to stop destroying
himself. Someone who could share his scars and desires. That someone
wasn’t me. “It’s not something you can do alone.” I became painfully
aware of the full meaning of these words I’d heard not long after all this
started.
I realized that JungKook had the same look in his eyes as YoonGi
when NamJoon said it. “JungKook still has that photo.” He meant the
photo we took together on the beach in high school. NamJoon
seemingly wanted to let me know that JungKook was still thinking of
me, but I was reminded of a completely different scene.
On the day we went looking for that rock that made dreams come
true, we laughed, complained, and played under the scorching sun. And,
devastated at finding that the rock had vanished, I cried out my dream,
which even I couldn’t hear, to the sea.
At that moment, i saw JungKook yelling some question at YoonGi. I
couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could sense that it was important
to Jungkook. What did he ask YoonGi? Why him? I hadn’t given it a
second thought back then. YoonGi was not as lively as HoSeok, not as
79
friendly as JiMin, and not as reliable as NamJoon. Why was it YoonGi? I
suddenly realized. It was YoonGi who saved JungKook. The two had the
same look in their eyes.
It wasn’t difficult to send JungKook to YoonGi. JungKook was
alone at school and at home. He had nowhere to go after school. He
usually spent his time at HoSeok’s burger joint or wandered around
NamJoon’s container. I locked the door of the container and made
HoSeok leave the store before JungKook dropped by. After roaming
around for quite a while, JungKook finally headed for YoonGi’s
workroom. He seemed to have mixed feelings. Should I go in? What if he
thinks I’m annoying? Expectation and fear both swirled across
JungKook’s face. Since that day, he visited YoonGi’s workroom every
day. At first, YoonGi flatly told him to go away, but he didn’t really
mean it.
A shadow appeared shortly. It was JungKook. I burrowed myself
deeper into the seat. They didn’t know I was back yet. Except NamJoon,
who I met at the gas station. NamJoon said everybody would be thrilled,
but I refused to meet them. I was waiting for the right moment. I had to
wait until all of us were together.
Maybe we were tied up together with strings and supporting one
another. It wasn’t easy to trace this web of strings. It was like an intricate
maze. When some strings and knots were figured out, other parts
snapped. When one string was pulled too tightly, everything collapsed in
an instant. I had to connect the dots, one string with another, closely
observing the others, to get them to save one another without realizing
it.
80
JungKook stopped in front of YoonGi’s workroom and looked up
at the second floor. He didn’t look too cheerful. YoonGi had gone
through a difficult time over the past ten days. He had been drinking
heavily and tormenting himself. I pushed JungKook into this depth of
agony. YoonGi’s suffering must’ve been too overwhelming for
JungKook. Once, JungKook gave up on YoonGi. Back then, YoonGi
threw himself into the flames. But cruelly, YoonGi didn’t die. JungKook
never forgave himself for failing to stop him.
About ten minutes had passed since JungKook went into YoonGi’s
workroom, The sound of something shattering came out of the
second-floor window, and YoonGi, with busted lips, appeared at the
entrance of the building, staggering. He hurried down the sloping road. I
looked up at the window on the second floor. JungKook must be sitting
up there by the shattered mirror. He must be thinking he couldn’t save
YoonGi. He must be thinking it was hopeless.
I started the car after seeing JungKook run out of the building.
YoonGi must be heading to the motel down the block. I should leave a
clue for JungKook to YoonGi’s whereabouts. That was all I could do. I
dropped some blood stained tissue near the gate of the motel.
Sitting in the car, I saw JungKook climbing the stairs of the motel. I
left a photo in front of the mirror in YoonGi’s workroom early this
morning. It was the photo of all of us taken that day we went to the
beach. Did JungKook see the photo? I couldn’t know if JungKook
followed YoonGi because of that photo, if Jungkook followed YoonGi
because of that photo, if JungKook decided to give it a try seeing a small
seed of hope, or if JungKook was motivated by something else.
81
I wasn’t sure how JungKook could save YoonGi. That decisive
moment in life, that last moment, for each of us, including JungKook
and YoonGi, can’t be interfered with. It can only be shared by those who
suffer the same wound, understand each other’s fear, dreams, and
defeats, and therefore see through each other to the core.
I looked up at the motel window. I wondered what JungKook and
YoonGi were talking about in there. And I desperately wished that the
thing with wings would be able to take off into the sky from there.
82
YoonGi
2 May Year 22
The sheet caught fire and instantly flared up, Everything dingy and
shabby died away in the unbearable heat. The musty smell, the
depressing dampness, and the dark and dismal light were no longer
recognizable. Only pain was left. Physical pain that seemed to boil in the
flames. My fingertips felt as if they were melting down with blisters
forming. Dad’s expressionless face and the sound of music dispersed into
the air.
I was different than him. Dad didn’t understand me and I didn’t
understand him. If I tried, would I’ve been able to persuade him? I don’t
think so. All I could do was hide, defy, and run away, Sometimes I felt
like it wasn’t him I was trying to break free from, At such moments, fear
rushed over me. What am I running away from then? What does it take
to escape from myself? Everything looked hopeless.
I thought I heard someone calling me, but I didn’t turn my head. I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. But I knew. It was JungKook. He
must’ve gotten mad. He would mourn for me. I just wanted to flop
down. I wanted to put an end to the smoke, heat, pain. and fear.
JungKook shouted something. but I still couldn’t hear. Everything
before my eyes fell apart. It was the last moment. I lifted my head. My
last sight of this world was this dirty, isolated room, the red-hot flame
and rolling heat, and JungKook’s twisted face.
83
JungKook
2 May Year 22
I looked up and found myself in front of the container. I opened the
door and went inside. I lay down curled up and covered myself with all
the clothes I could find. I felt cold and my body trembled. It was hard to
pull myself together and lie still. I felt like crying, but tears wouldn’t
come.
The scene of YoonGi standing amidst the flames kept replaying in
my mind. Flames blazed up from the sheet. I couldn’t think. I didn’t
know what to do. I wasn’t a good talker. I couldn’t even express my own
feelings let alone persuade someone else. Tears welled up and a cough
lodged in my throat. It became even harder to speak. The only words I
could utter as I jumped into the flames were “I thought we were all
going to the sea together.”
“What’s wrong? Are you having a nightmare?” Someone shook my
shoulder. I opened my eyes to find NamJoon. A sense of relief overcame
me. NamJoon put his hand on my forehead and told me I had a fever. It
was true. The inside of my mouth felt like it was burning up, but it was
freezing cold at the same time. My head ached and my throat was sore. I
could barely swallow the pills NamJoon brought me. “Go back to sleep.
We’ll talk later.” I nodded, Then I asked him, “Will I be able to grow
into an adult like you?”
84
The Topmost Floor
in the City
85
HoSeok
10 May Year 22
86
It was the same day today. When I opened my eyes, the first thing
that came into sight was the fluorescent light on the ceiling. I was
changed into a patient gown. The doctor said I seemed to have had a
concussion and needed a more thorough check. I was moved to a
six-person hospital room. I felt exhausted. I always felt exhausted when I
regained consciousness.
87
JiMin
11 May Year 22
I was transferred to the surgery ward about two weeks ago. At first, it felt
strange to see people coming and going so freely. Soon, I found that it
was just another part of the hospital. There were patients, nurses, and
doctors. I was given drugs and injections. All in all, it was about the same
as the psychiatric ward. The only difference was that the surgery ward
had a longer hallway with a lounge halfway down. Of course, there was
one more major difference. I was allowed to freely roam around the
ward. At night, I sneaked out of my room and wandered around. I
jumped and danced in the lounge and ran down the first-floor hallway at
full speed. These were simple joys that weren’t allowed in the psychiatric
ward.
One day, I discovered something strange about myself while I was
running down the hall. At some point past the kitchenette and
emergency staircase, my body just came to a grinding halt for no reason.
I still had about five more steps to reach the end, but I stopped and was
unable to take another step. At the end of the hallway was a door. The
door opened to the outside world. Outside the hospital. The door had
no “Off Limits” sign, and no one came running to stop me. But I just
couldn’t go any further. I soon found out why. That was the stretch of
the hallway just like the psychiatric ward. As if a line was drawn on the
floor, I came to a stop at exactly that point, where the psychiatric ward
hallway would’ve ended.
88
They called me a good kid in the psychiatric ward. I sometimes had
seizures, but mostly I was obedient. I smiled and went on lying without
anyone being the wiser. And I knew my limit. The hallway of the
psychiatric ward could be covered in 24 even strides. When I was first
hospitalized, I was 8. I cried and demanded to go home with Mom,
holding onto the iron door at the end of that hallway. I frantically tried
to open the door until the nurses came running and gave me an
injection. For a while, the nurses tensed up whenever I stepped into the
hall. Now, no one paid attention to me even if I ran down the hall and
reached the door. I already knew that the door was locked anyways. I just
kept running down to the door and coming back. I no longer begged
them to open the door or wept.
But the world is full of people more idiotic than me. They held and
shook the door endlessly. They were suppressed by the staff, given
injections, and tied to their beds. If they had behaved just a bit more
acceptably, their lives could’ve become much more comfortable. Those
idiots didn’t know any better.
I wasn’t like this in the beginning. I was also dropped senseless by
the sedatives forcefully injected by the nurses and got caught trying to
escape from the hospital in early days. I called Mom, crying violently
enough to go hoarse several times. “I’m not sick. I’m OK now. Please
come and take me home.” I stayed up all night for several days, but
Mom didn’t come.
When I was taken to the hospital after they found me unconscious
at the Grass Flower Arboretum, my parents didn’t ask any questions.
They ignored the fact that I had blacked out there. It was the same when
I developed seizures. They hospitalized me, discharged me after some
89
time, and transferred me to another school. Family reputation was
important to them. A son with mental illness was unacceptable.
I didn’t become a good kid overnight. There was no dramatic event
or memorable incident. I just continued to give up on myself bit by bit,
just as a fingernail grows. I stopped crying and longing to go outside at
some point. I stopped dashing toward the door down the hallway.
I attended school in between hospital stays, but I knew I’d be sent
back eventually. It felt refreshing to look up into the sky and enjoy the
fragrance of each season. But I tried not to hold them in my memory.
They’d soon be kept from me anyway. Friends, too. A history of mental
illness was not helpful in making friends.
There was no one exception. I met a group who felt like true friends.
It was almost two years ago. I tried not to remember them, but I
couldn’t help recalling those days. I had to part with them after I had a
seizure at the bus stop after school. The last scene I remembered was the
window of the Grass Flower Arboretum shuttle bus opening. That’s
when I blacked out.
When I opened my eyes, I was at a hospital. Mom was over in the
corner talking on her phone. My mind whirled for a while. I didn’t
know where I was or how I got there. I gazed around and discovered
windows with metal bars. Then, it all came back to me. The blue sky I
saw on my way home, the silly games we played at the bus stop, the
arboretum shuttle bus coming closer, and the glares through the bus
windows.
I shut my eyes. But it was too late. The front gate of the arboretum
appeared before my eyes. It was school picnic day in first grade. I was
running through heavy rain with my backpack over my head. A
90
warehouse came into sight. The door was left open, I stepped inside. The
sticky, musty smell. the sound of my heavy breathing, and the screechy,
metallic sound.
I sat up in my bed and screamed. “No, I don’t remember” I forgot!”
Mom came running, calling out to someone. I shook my head violently.
I swung my arms in every direction to get rid of that smell, touch, sound,
and sight. But the memories came flooding in. The dam that had held
them back the past ten years collapsed and every detail of that day surged
through my mind, eyes, cells, and nails as if it was happening again. I had
a seizure and was given an injection. The drug flowed through my blood
vessels, and I quickly dozed off. I closed my eyes and wished that this was
all a dream and that, when I awoke again, I wouldn’t be able to recall
anything.
That wish was just a wish. Instead, a cycle seizures, injection, and
injection-induced sleep that felt like falling off a cliff continued. After I
awoke from that sleep, my whole body felt like it was covered with mud.
Mud that looked like blood. No matter how hard I tried to wash it off,
that warehouse smell lingered. I scrubbed until I bled, but it still felt
dirty.
When the doctor asked me about it in a concerned tone, I trembled
and apologized at first. I repeatedly said that I was sorry. It was all my
fault. Please let me forget all about it. Then, I tried to pretend nothing
had happened. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I didn’t
remember anything. So I gazed at the doctor and smiled. “I don’t
remember anything.” Did the doctor actually believe me? I wasn’t sure.
But what was important was that I became a good kid. My life at the
hospital was peaceful. It was an ideal place do idle my time away. I didn’t
91
long for anything and didn’t feel constrained, scared, or lonely. That
was, until last night. Before I met HoSeok again.
I was transferred to the surgery ward because I fought with the idiot
who kept trying to get to the door at the end of the hallway despite the
nurses’ constraint. Both of us were injured and were put into two
different rooms on the fifth floor of the surgery ward. I was put in a
six-person room. My bed was in the middle, and patients on either side
changed frequently.
I woke up in the middle of the night. The patient next to me seemed
to be having a nightmare and continued to groan. The groaning sound
came from the bed on my left. I pulled the blanket over my head. I was
sick and tired of nightmares. I didn’t need to hear this. I tried to put up
with it for a while, but his nightmare went on and on. Finally, I got up
and stepped over to his bed. I tapped his shoulder and tried to help. “It’s
OK. It’s just a dream.”
I found out this morning that that patient was HoSeok. I drew the
curtains for my breakfast, and HoSeok was sitting on the bed next to
mine. He seemed glad to see me again. Was I glad, too? Probably, in the
corner of my mind. He had hung out with me and taken care of me, a
transfer who was a complete stranger at school. He also took the long
way home with me after school. I still recalled the days when we used to
walk home with popsicles in our hands. But he was also the one who saw
my seizure at the bus stop before I came here. He was the one who
brought me to this hospital. He must’ve run into Mom. I didn’t want to
explain my situation to him.
I got out of the room with me meal left untouched. HoSeok seemed
to follow me, but I knew every corner of this hospital, He couldn’t catch
92
up with me. I roamed around the hospital all day long. From the stairs, I
saw the others, even JungKook, when they came to see HoSeok. They
hadn’t changed much.
All that afternoon, I climbed up and down the stairs and hung
around on the other floors. I leaned against the window at the end of the
hallway and counted the passing cars. I grew upset. I had skipped all my
meals, and there wasn’t anywhere to sit and relax comfortably. It was
annoying to hear the peals of laughter coming from my room. I got
angrier because I couldn’t figure out why I was so angry. I came back to
my bed late at night. “Where’ve you been?” he asked me casually. Then,
he handed me a piece of bread.
It must’ve been because I was starving. The bread was warm and
delicious. I couldn’t help confessing to him. That I’d long been confined
in the psychiatric ward. That I was briefly transferred to the surgery
ward but would be sent back soon. That I wouldn’t be discharged in the
near future. That, as he witnessed, I was a person who had seizures on
the street. That I was a patient who might be dangerous. I didn’t want to
add the last part. But I thought it’d stop him from criticizing me.
He paused for a minute. Then, he took away my bread. “JiMin,
don’t exaggerate. Don’t you know that I have narcolepsy? I can black
out anytime or anywhere. Am I dangerous, too?” He took a bite of my
bread. I just froze, not knowing what to say. Then, he said, “What? You
want this back?” He bit into the bread again and returned it to me, I
took it back right away. He asked me again. “Are seizure infectious?
Narcolepsy isn’t. Don’t worry.” He hadn’t changed a bit.
93
HoSeok
12 May Year 22
I opened the emergency exit and darted down the stairs. My heart was
hammering in my chest. I definitely caught sight of Mom in the hallway.
As soon as I looked back, the elevator door opened and a crowd of
people poured out. Mom vanished from my view. I desperately jostled
through the crowd and saw her going through the emergency exit in the
distance. I followed her into the emergency staircase and ran down the
stairs two at a time. I went down several flights without a break.
“Mom!” Mom stopped. I took one more hurried step. She turned
around. Another step down the staircase. Mom’s face gradually became
visible. Then, my foot slipped and my entire body lurched forward. I
swung my arms to keep my balance, but it was too late. I shut my eyes
tightly, scared I’d tumble down the stairs. At that moment, someone
grabbed my arm from behind. I narrowly avoided falling headlong down
the stairs. When I turned my head, JiMin was standing there looking
startled. I quickly looked ahead again, too hurried to thank him.
I saw a woman. She looked perplexed. There was a little boy next to
her. The woman kept blinking her big eyes. She wasn’t Mom. She
stepped back with the little boy hidden behind her back. I just stood on
the staircase without a word, gazing at her face.
I couldn’t remember what I said then to get out of that situation. I
must’ve mumbled that I was sorry what I mistook her for someone else.
Come to think of it, I didn’t even ask JiMin why he was there. My head
was a mess and I couldn’t process any of the details. She wasn’t Mom.
94
Maybe I knew that before I began chasing her. It’d been more than ten
years since the day I was left alone in the amusement park. She must’ve
aged and looked different from what I remembered. Even if I met her
again, it wouldn’t be easy to recognize her. Her face was almost
completely erased from my memory.
I looked back. JiMin was just tagging along without a word. He said
he’d stayed at this hospital since high school, since I last saw him in the
emergency room. When I asked him if he wanted to get out, he just kept
hanging back, looking confused. Maybe JiMin was also bound within a
web of memories like me, I took a step towards him. “JiMin, let’s get out
of here.”
95
JiMin
15 May Year 22
Three days passed after HoSeok was discharged from the hospital. I
didn’t want to say goodbye, so I followed him secretly. While I kept
hiding and tagging behind, HoSeok walked down the long hallway
towards the door. He nonchalantly passed the line near the emergency
exit, where I’d always come to a stop. I watched him from behind.
Without realizing it, I stopped right there. I could take at least five more
strides but I just stood there.
HoSeok slowly reached out and gently pushed the door open. The
dazzling sunlight poured in through the open door along with the
outside air. It smelled a bit pungent but felt refreshing at the same time.
The landscape on the other side of the door washed over me. When
HoSeok stepped outside, the door began to close. I could slide through if
I ran now. I looked down at the ground. The limit line, which was
visible to one one but me, was still there.
I turned around. Or, I was about to turn around when someone
passed by, shoving my shoulder hard. I fell forward onto the floor. I
raised my head, still lying on the ground. I had crossed the line. The idiot
was running past me, heading for the door. He was the one who had
shoved me. He continued to jostle others on his way. He didn’t pay
attention to them. As he pushed the door as hard as he could, the
sunlight streamed in again. He ran outside. A nurse chased him, but he
was faster. The door began to close again. I sprang to me feet. One step
over my line. I took one more step forward. It was only three more
96
strides to get to the door. But I turned around again, well aware of my
limit.
A stranger already occupied HoSeok’s bed. I closed my eyes but
couldn’t get to sleep. I couldn’t help but dwell on what he’d said before
he was discharged. “JiMin, let’s get out of here.” He wore a complicated
expression that I’d never seen before. He’d never looked or sounded that
way before. I was just standing there looking hesitant, not knowing how
to respond. There was one more reason I couldn’t stop thinking about
his words. There was an incident that occurred right before then.
I was waiting for the elevator on the second floor where I had
physical therapy. I tripped while scuffling with the idiot, and my wrist
was injured and didn’t heal well. I was getting impatient as HoSeok
discharge was approaching, but the elevator was stuck on the ninth
floor. I thought I heard someone calling my name just as I was thinking
of taking the stairs. That someone was standing in front of the
emergency exit at the end of the hallway. I couldn’t quite make out who
it was with the sunlight coming through the window. When I took a
step forward, the person suddenly ran through the emergency exit. The
person’s profile came into sight momentarily, but I still couldn’t
recognize who it was. Who could that be? I walked towards the
emergency staircase, feeling strange.
As I opened the emergency exit door and put my head in, someone
passed by quickly. I instinctively pulled my head back. We almost
collided. “Mom!” Hearing the desperate cry, I stuck my head back in. It
was HoSeok, frantically leaping down the stairs. And there was a woman
standing at the foot of the staircase. What’s all this? I stepped onto
landing. HoSeok lost his footing right at that moment. I darted forward
97
and reached out my hands without thinking and caught him. HoSeok
faltered as I abruptly slowed him down. and I barely managed to keep
my balance.
He didn’t say anything until we had climbed back up the stairs and
stepped into the fifth-floor hallway. He remained silent while we walked
to the hospital room. Then, he suddenly stopped and looked at me.
“JiMin, let’s get out of here.” I couldn’t answer. He told my firmly. “I’ll
come back for you.” I replied, “I’m going back to the psychiatric ward in
a few days.”
Three days passed. I was to go back to the psychiatric ward the next
day. I tidied up my belongings and lay down. I tossed and turned for a
while but soon dozed off.
I awoke with the sense of something falling. The hospital was a
strange place, and it was hard to sleep soundly. I could feel everything
around me with me eyes closed, and even the smallest sounds kept me
wide awake. The hospital room was pitch dark. A breeze blew in
through the open window. The curtains flapped amidst the flow of the
already sultry air. The ceiling, the floor, darkness, and silence. They were
all familiar.
I was about to switch on the nightstand when someone’s hand held
me back. It was HoSeok. I sat up in surprise, and he put his forefinger on
his lips. “We all came together.” He said they were waiting for me
outside. He reached out his hand.
I was still buried under so many fears. I was invisible to my parents.
I’d be taken as no more than an escapee from a psychiatric ward in the
outside world. It was safer to just stay in the hospital as an obedient
98
patient. I wasn’t sure I’d adjust well out there. I could think of a millions
reasons not to leave.
HoSeok didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my hand, brought me to my
feet, and handed me a T-shirt. I was out of bed before I knew it. The
hallway was still and quiet. A few nurses were stationed at the desk. They
were all occupied with their own work and didn’t even look our way,
but HoSeok and I walked as quietly as possible, tensed up. The elevator
was waiting on the fifth floor. When the door slid open, NamJoon and
SeokJin were standing inside.
We got off on the first floor and stepped into the hallway when
HoSeok abruptly pushed me into a door on the left. It was a lounge. It
was usually crowded with patients and caregivers during the day, but at
night, it was quiet and dark with only the murky lights of streetlamps
flowing in. A candle was lit and JungKook and TaeHyung came out of
the darkness. YoonGi’s face was also visible behind them. On the table
were snacks and cans of soda.
A nurse came through the rear door just when I took a sip of soda.
Before I finished saying hello to them, the nurse asked what we were
doing here, and YoonGi said it was a birthday party. She stepped into the
lounge. “Are you all our inpatients? I don’t think so.” I was the only one
wearing a patient gown. Without realizing it, I tightened my hand
around the soda can. The aluminum can crumpled with an eerie sound.
HoSeok grabbed my shoulder. “It’s OK.” It was NamJoon. “When I give
the signal, just start running.” It must’ve been JungKook.
SeokJin, who was already by the front door, threw us a glance and
went outside. HoSeok looked around us and spit out in a low voice.
“Run, JiMin.” We all started running. I was caught up in the excitement
99
and ran with them. TaeHyung lost his footing and almost fell, and the
snacks and plastic soda bottles flew into the air. We darted nimbly
through the tables and poured out into the first-floor hallway. The loud
voices and footsteps of the nurses continued to pursue us. The hallway
stretched out before us just as it did yesterday.
My heart pounded as I passed the kitchenette and came to the
emergency stairs. Without realizing it, my pace slowed. My head was
bombarded with questions. Would it really be OK? Am I sure? It might
be even harder out there. I might not have anyone on my side. It’d be
safer and more comfortable in here. It’s not too late. I’d better stop here.
I’d better admit my limits. I’d better be a good kid.
My line was just a few steps away. I looked back. Now the janitors
had joined in and were chasing the others. My hand holding the T-shirt
trembled violently. They seemed to be right on my tail. Maybe I had no
chance. “It’s OK, Park JiMin, run!” That voice pushed me forward. I
took one more step.
I crossed over the line. I had only taken one step closer to the door,
but a dramatic change occurred. Something inside me rolled and pitched
as if I’d just leaped from one steep cliff to another. As I threw down my
patient down and put on the T-shirt, I took another step forward
towards the door. The next step was faster, and the next even faster. The
walls on both sides flashed by quickly, and the door drew closer in big
strides. Only five steps were left to get from the line to the door. For
anyone else, it was just a short distance of five steps. But I hadn’t dared
to come this far. This was the the first time I’d made it past the line on
my own. The door was within reach.
100
Once I pass through this door, the environment will be completely
different from the one that has surrounded me. I refuse to think about
what’ll happen next. I’ll focus on taking one step at a time. I pushed the
door with all my might. Every cell of my body collided with the outside
air. There was no oppressive sunlight or fierce wind like I had always
imagined. I felt like crying. The sound of my heartbeat reverberated in all
directions.
101
JiMin
16 May Year 22
HoSeok’s house was up on the the hillside. It was the rooftop room of a
dilapidated multi-family building at the end of a dead end. The dead end
was through a narrow winding alley away from the main street and up a
long, steep climb. That was where he lived. When we entered the room,
HoSeok bragged that it was on the topmost floor of the city with the rest
of the world placed at his feet. He was right. This rooftop room had a
view of everything. When I looked straight down, I could see the train
station and containers standing in a row along the railroad. NamJoon
was living in one of those containers. Just a little way off was the school
we had attended together.
While looking at our school, my line of sight reached a point across
the river. A large apartment complex was perched at the foot of the
mountain. That was where my house was. No, it was where my parents’
house was. I had escaped the hospital without any plan. The hospital
must’ve contacted my parents, and they must be looking for me by now.
I didn’t have the courage to meet them face to face yet. I couldn’t go
home. I had nowhere to go and no money, HoSeok told me to follow
him and led me here. That was how I ended up at HoSeok’s house.
I looked over at the apartment complex again. I have to return there
someday. I have to meet my parents and tell them I’m not going back to
the hospital. I inhaled deeply, and HoSeok came close and stood next to
me.
102
HoSeok
16 May Year 22
I could be my most honest self at home. Sometimes I screamed at the top
of my lungs and sang at the window. Sometimes I played music and
danced like crazy. And sometimes I awoke at night weeping. When I did,
I just lay there still, staring at the ceiling. But i never collapsed with
narcolepsy at home.
JiMin didn’t go back home after he left the hospital. He came to my
house and was now looking down at the city leaning against the guard
rail on the rooftop. He must be looking for our school, the Two Star
Burger joint, and the changing lights along the railroad like me. He must
also be looking for his house. That was something in our humans
instincts. Everyone looks for their home when they climb somewhere
high or spread out a large map.
I thought of asking him why he didn’t go home. But I gave up. His
head must be a mess, and I didn’t want to aggravate it. Besides, I could
guess why based on how JiMin’s mom reacted at the emergency room
that day. In fact, I rarely asked my friends questions. I felt I knew the
answers to most of them already. And I didn’t want them to feel
awkward. Or they might find my questions too inquisitive and
annoying.
To be honest, I was always curious where the others were headed
when they walked by my store. But I never ran out to ask them. Where
was JungKook going with his wounds? Was YoonGi’s workroom in that
103
direction? Why did NamJoon leave school? Where did TaeHyung first
learn graffiti? Come to think of it, I didn’t know much about the others.
“Did you find it?” I drew closer to JiMin and asked. “Find what?”
JiMin sounded confused. “Your house.” JiMin nodded. “I grew up in
the orphanage right there.” I pointed to a place beyond the railroad. “Do
you see the supermarket in the direction of the river from the gas station
where NamJoon works? Do you see the clover-shaped neon sign behind
it? The orphanage is to the left of that neon sign. I lived there for more
than ten years.” JiMin’s eyes seemed to wonder why I was telling him all
this. My friends already knew that I grew up in an orphanage. I
considered it my home. I didn’t force myself to think that for peace of
mind. I really believed that it was my home. A home without Mom,
“I have something to confess.” Something I’d been lying about.
“That my narcolepsy was fake.” That might have been why I couldn’t
ask anything about anyone. It wasn’t because I was afraid of hurting
them. It was because I had lied, because I didn’t have the courage to be
honest. Because, once I admitted it, I’d also have to admit I have no one
to call “Mom,” not just at the orphanage but in the entire world. That
must’ve been why I didn’t ask any of them about their problems.
JiMin wasn’t good at hiding his feelings. His startled look was
self-explanatory. I didn’t know how to apologize to him. JiMin had
agonized over me countless times. He must’ve burst into tears when he
first witnessed it. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just must’ve ignored that
there was a way for me to be OK. I know this doesn’t make sense. I can’t
describe it clearly.”
“Then, are you OK now?” JiMin, who’d been listening quietly for
some time, turned his head towards me and asked the question. Am I
104
OK now? I asked myself. JiMin was still looking at me. He was neither
criticizing nor sympathizing with me. I looked down at the brightly lit
city below. “Well, I don’t know. We’ll be able to figure it out as time
goes by. I’m looking forward to it. Aren’t you?” JiMin giggled. I laughed
along.
105
JiMin
19 May Year 22
I had to return to the Grass Flower Arboretum. I had to stop lying about
not remembering what I’d seen there. It was time to stop hiding in the
hospital and put an end to my seizures. to do that, I had to go back there.
But, for days, I went to the shuttle bus stop and failed to get on the bus.
After I watched the third bus of the day pull away, YoonGi suddenly
appeared and plunked down next to me. He said he came out because
there was nothing to do and he was bored. Then he asked me what I was
doing here. I kept my head bent low and kicked the ground with the toe
of my sneaker. I was sitting there because I didn’t have courage. I wanted
to pretend that I was OK now, that I knew enough, and that I could
easily overcome this. But I was afraid. I was afraid of not knowing what I
was about to face. whether I would be able to endure it, and whether I
would have a seizure again.
YoonGi looked relaxed. Laid back, he murmured something that
sounded like “the weather is so nice” in a carefree manner. The weather
really was nice. But I was so tense that I couldn’t afford to look around,
let alone enjoy the weather. The sky was blue. A mild breeze blew
occasionally. The shuttle bus was approaching from a distance. The bus
stopped and the door opened. The driver stared at me. I asked YoonGi.
“Will you go with me?”
106
HoSeok
20 May Year 22
I left the police station with TaeHyung. “Thank you.” I bowed and
shouted all the more energetically, but I really wasn’t in the mood. It
wasn’t far from the police station to TaeHyung’s house. If he lived
farther from the police station, would he still be there this much? Why
had his parents settled down so close to the police station? The world
was so unjust and unfair to this foolishly good-hearted and sensitive kid.
I placed my arm around TaeHyung’s shoulders and casually asked if he
was hungry. TaeHyung shook his head. “Did the police officers
welcome you back and buy you a meal?” I asked again, but he didn’t
answer.
The two of us walked in the sunlight, but an icy wind seemed to nip
at my heart. I couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling when I felt this
chilly inside. His heart must’ve felt ripped and torn. Or, does he have a
heart left at all? How much anguish has he endured? I couldn’t look him
in his eyes, so I turned my glance upwards. An airplane was flyings
against the somewhat murky sky. I first saw the scar on TaeHyung’s
back in NamJoon’s container. I couldn’t bring myself to ask about it
when he was smiling so broadly with his new T-shirt present.
I had no parents. I had no memory of Dad, and my memory of
Mom stopped at the age of 7. I probably had more open wounds and
scars regardings family and childhood than anyone. People always said so
easily that we need to overcome our wounds, embrace them, and accept
them as part of our lives. That we need to reconcile with and forgive
107
others to go on living. It wasn’t that I wasn’t aware of it. It wasn’t that I
didn’t want to give it a try. But giving it a try didn’t guarantee success.
No one had taught me how. The world gave us new wounds even before
the old one could heal . Surely, no one in the world can avoid getting
hurt. I was aware of that. But do we really need to get hurt this deeply?
For what? Why did these things happen to us?
“I’m OK. I can go alone” TaeHyung said at the intersection. “I
know.” I led the way. “I’m really OK. See. I’m fine.” TaeHyung smiled. I
didn’t respond. He couldn’t be OK. But once he admitted that he wasn’t
OK, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. So he was just ignoring the truth.
That became his habit. TaeHyung followed me, putting up his hood.
“You’re really not hungry?” I asked him when we had walked up to the
outdoor hallway that led to his house. He smiled that foolish smile and
nodded. I stayed for a little and watched him walk towards his door and
I finally turned around. The path he was walking down and the path I
walked through were both narrow and bleak. He and I were both alone.
108
SeokJin
20 May Year 22
TaeHyung’s house was in one of the oldest buildings in the
neighborhood. Paint was peeling off here and there, and weeds were
growing out of cracks in the cement walls. It looked run-down. I was
waiting for TaeHyung and HoSeok in the small park on the hill behind
the building. As it was on the slope, it overlooked the outdoor hallway
on TaeHyung’s floor of the building.
HoSeok appeared from around a corner leading into an alley in the
distance. TaeHyung was following him. His face wasn’t quite visible
because he had his hood pulled down tight. TaeHyung and HoSeok
exchanged a few words at the mouth of the alley. TaeHyung seemed to
be trying to send HoSeok home and HoSeok was saying he was fine.
HoSeok started to walk again first. The two came up to the front of the
building without a word. HoSeok climbed the stairs and stopped in
front of TaeHyung’s door. He tapped on TaeHyung’s shoulder and
made a gesture at him to go into the house. Then, he turned around and
started walking towards the exit. TaeHyung stared at him from behind
for a moment and reached out for the doorknob.
I called HoSeok at the moment when TaeHyung began to open the
door. After the dial tone rang three times, HoSeok took out his phone in
the middle of the hallway. TaeHyung was stepping into his house.
“HoSeok, can you call TaeHyung?” HoSeok stopped walking. “I just
saw him.” I said I was planning a trip to the sea for all of us and he
should ask TaeHyung to come along. HoSeok laughed, saying of course
109
TaeHyung would come along. “But just to make sure, could you ask
him and let me know?” I hung up hastily. This was the time. HoSeok
must go into TaeHyung’s house now. HoSeok tilted his head sideways,
looking at his phone screen, and turned around. Then, he went into
TaeHyung’s house through the still-open door.
110
TaeHyung
20 May Year 22
I looked down at my palm. Blood was oozing out. Just when my legs
started to give out and I was about to collapse, someone grabbed me
from behind. Sunlight came in through the murky window. My sister
was crying, and HoSeok was standing there in silence. As usual, the floor
was cluttered with dirty dishes, odds and ends, and blankets. Dad had
already escaped the room before I realized it.
The uncontrollable rage and sorrow that welled up when I flung
myself at Dad were still fresh in my mind. I didn’t know what held me
back when I was about to stab him. I didn’t know how to douse these
raging flames inside me. I wanted to kill myself instead of Dad. If I
could, I wanted to drop dead right then and there.
I couldn’t shed tears. I wanted to cry, cry out loud, kick and destroy
everything, and break down. But it all seemed beyond my control.
“Sorry, HoSeok, I’m fine. You go ahead.” My voice sounded dry and
calm, contrary to my frantic mind. I sent HoSeok home against his will
and looked down at my palm. Blood was still coming out in drops.
Instead of stabbing Dad, I’d smashed a bottle on the floor. The bottle
had broken into pieces and cut my palm. The world spun and twirled
when I closed my eyes. My brain froze. What should I do now? How
should I live?
After I regained consciousness, I found myself looking at
NamJoon’s number. Even in this situation or because of this situation, I
was longing for NamJoon all the more desperately. I wanted to confess
111
to him. I almost killed Dad who brought me into this world and who
beat me every day. I almost killed him. No, I actually killed him.
Countless times. I killed him countless times in my head. I want to kill
him. I want to die. I don’t know what to do. I’m lost. I just want to see
you now.
112
The Most
Beautiful Day of
Our Lives
113
JungKook
22 May Year 22
Someone shook my shoulder to wake me up. When I opened my eyes,
the car window was filled entirely with the seascape. The sea breeze felt
chilly, probably because I was only half awake. I wrapped myself with
both arms and got out of the car. The others, already far out on the
beach where the waves broke against the shore, waved at me. Beyond
them was the sea, and above the sea was the sun. The entire scene looked
like a still frame.
The wind picked up and filled this still frame with raging sand just as
I raised my hand to wave back. The gritty dust rose from the ground and
swirled about. The others turned around all at once, covering their faces
to ward off grainy wind. I did the same, shutting my eyes tightly,
bending my head and covering my face with my arm. We stood in this
position amidst the sounds of lapping waves and whistling wind for a
long time.
I tried to open my eyes, but they stung from the sand. “Don’t rub
them. It’ll just make it worse.” Upon hearing HoSeok, I slowly blinked.
The sea, the sky, and the others kept appearing and disappearing
through the tears welling up in my eyes. After I blinked several times,
tears streamed down, and the stinging subsided. The tears must’ve
flushed the grains of sand out. I heard the others laughing. They were
laughing at me standing in the middle of the empty beach shedding
tears.
114
It was unclear who began to run first. It started out as a silly game. I
pretended to chase the others who kept making fun of me. HoSeok
darted off as if he was fleeing from me. Then, the rest joined in, running
towards and away from one another and laughing joyfully. At some
point, we were all running along the coastal road. I ran behind the
others. I was out of breath, sweaty, and had a splitting headache. But I
didn’t stop because they continued on.
We’d all met again, sprung JiMin from the hospital, and returned to
this same beach. It was all unplanned. All I’d done was tag along, but it
felt exhilarating. Maybe running around blankly was the only way for
me to deal with that fearfully thrilling sensation. I’d done the same when
we all ditched school and came to this beach the first time.
“That’s right. We were like this back then, too.” NamJoon said
when we dropped down on the beach to catch our breath. “I think it was
just as hot then. When was it?” It was JiMin. “It was June 12.” My good
memory took everyone by surprise. I remembered it exactly because the
photo we had taken on this beach was marked with the date. I sometimes
took it out and stared at it. I didn’t tell anyone, but I felt on that
long-ago day that I had finally found a real family. Real brothers.
“Guys.” I began to express my gratitude but found myself at a loss
for words. “What?” The others rushed me one by one and then flung
themselves at me. We rolled around on the beach tangled up together,
playing like children.
“Why are you here alone?” I sank down next to TaeHyung who was
sitting in one corner of the sandy beach away from the others. He looked
at me briefly and asked a question instead. “Was that there the last time
we came here?” He was talking about the observatory. “If it was, we
115
would’ve climbed it. But I don’t remember it.” He nodded in agreement.
He kept staring at the observatory.
“Let’s go.” Someone tapped my shoulder. It was SeokJin. His face
unrecognizable as he was standing against the light. It might’ve been
because I was looking up at him from a sitting position, but he looked so
tall. I stood up, dusting off the sand. My feet sank deep into the burning
sand. I sneaked into SeokJin’s shadow and walked on, kicking sand with
the tips of my sneakers. The sand I kicked up splattered onto SeokJin’s
pants, but he didn’t look back.
116
TaeHyung
22 May Year 22
I had seen this all before. In a dream that felt too vivid and real, I saw this
sea, the seven os us, and the towering observatory. I stood on the
observatory at the end of the dream. Everyone looked up at me. They
were far away, so their faces were hard to see. Still, I smiled at them. As if
I was bidding them farewell. And then I jumped.
“SeokJin?” Hearing JungKook, I turned my head to see SeokJin
climbing the observatory. At the very top, he turned his body toward us.
He seemed to be trying to photograph us. The others waved at him, but
I couldn’t. It was like the last scene in my dream. The only difference
was that SeokJin was up there instead of me.
At that moment, it felt as if the ground sank under my feet and my
body floated in the air. I shut my eyes tightly, fearing my body might
plummet to the ground. I didn’t clench my fist, but the wound on my
palm began to hurt. The wound seemed deep but healed more quickly
than I expected. It left a red scar. Sometimes it hurt intensely. Like I was
being punished. Punished for all my wrongdoings. It hurt now.
117
NamJoon
22 May Year 22
“He’s only a year younger than I am. No, I didn’t say so. I’m older. I
know. But he’s not a kid anymore. It’s time he started taking care of
himself. I got it. I got it. No, I’m not mad. Sorry.”
I looked down at the ground after I hung up the phone. We were on
our way to our lodging after spending the day at the beach. A lukewarm
breeze was blowing our way. It felt like my heart was clogged and would
burst at any minute. Ants were marching in file on the ground covered
with sand and dirt.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love my parents. It wasn’t that I didn’t worry
about my brother. I’d turn a deaf ear to them if I could, but I knew I’d
never be able to. I knew that all too well. Then, what was the use of
struggling, losing my temper, feeling distressed, and trying to break free?
Far off, someone was standing still like me with his back turned. It
was JungKook. JungKook once told me, “I want to be just like you when
I grow up.” I couldn’t bring myself to confess that I was far from an
adult, let alone a exemplary one. It seemed too brutal to crush his hope
then. I couldn’t tell someone so young, someone who hadn’t been given
the trust, support, and affection he deserved, that you don’t just become
an adult by getting older and taller. I wish JungKook’s future would be
kinder to him than mine was to me, but I couldn’t promise that I’d be of
any help to him along the way.
118
SeokJin
22 May Year 22
I looked at the others again. They were making silly jokes, laughing,
chatting, and roaring with laughter again when someone sprang up and
started dancing. I couldn’t believe what was unfolding before my eyes.
We got here together after so many trials and errors. I’d dreamed of this
for so long and so desperately that it seemed impossible it was actually
happening.
But I felt uneasy because I still had something to confess. I kept
hesitating and couldn’t muster up the courage. But I couldn’t run away
from it all anymore. Unless I told them, i wouldn’t be able to look my
friends in the face.
When dinner was almost over, I told them I had something to say.
But they didn’t pay much attention. Only TaeHyung was staring at me.
Several days ago, he came to me and asked me about the dream he’d been
having. “You know what it means, right?” He pressed me for an answer,
but I acted like I didn’t know. I said, “How could I know? It was just a
dream.” TaeHyung got upset and turned away.
It wasn’t completely a lie. I didn’t know why TaeHyung had been
having such a dream. But I did know how brutal it was. That’s why I
couldn’t tell him the truth. All the more so because I knew what he was
wondering about. He didn’t need to know what it wasn’t a dream, him
killing his father – but that it happened in real life, repetitively. No one
should go through life with such agony. I wouldn’t take my decision
back even if it hurt our friendship.
119
I turned my head away to avoid TaeHyung’s eyes. I closed my
mouth, caught my breath, and spoke more clearly this time. “I have
something to tell you.” NamJoon and HoSeok stared at me, and the
others also quieted down. “I should’ve told you this a long time ago.
When we were in high school···.”
TaeHyung interrupted. “When we were in high school? When you
ratted on us to the principal? Or when YoonGi got kicked out of school
because of that? Which one are you talking about? Criticism was plainly
written on TaeHyung’s face.
“TaeHyung!” NamJoon called him in an obvious attempt to hold
him back. TaeHyung shook NamJoon’s hand off with his eyes solidly
fixed on me. “That was all your doing.” No one said anything. Everyone
was caught off guard and couldn’t think of anything to say. I looked at
YoonGi. TaeHyung was right. YoonGi was expelled from school
because of me. I mumbled with my head bent low. “I’m sorry.”
TaeHyung began to speak again.
120
TaeHyung
22 May Year 22
“SeokJin, is that all? Aren’t you hiding something from us?” I glared at
SeokJin. He stared back at me. I was about to press him harder when
someone grabbed my shoulder to stop me. I knew who it was without
looking back. It was NamJoon. “Don’t cut in. Why do you care? You’re
not even my real brother.” I could feel NamJoon’s eyes on the back of
my head. I shook his hands off without even looking at him. I knew it,
too. I was taking out my anger on NamJoon.
When I was heading for our lodging from the beach, passing
through the pine forest, I heard NamJoon talking on the phone. Every
word he said was right. I was only a year younger and I wasn’t his real
brother. I had to take care of myself. But it still hurt.
“TaeHyung, I’m sorry. So let’s just stop here.” It was SeokJin who
first opened his mouth. SeokJin was the one who told me he was sorry.
NamJoon didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at me with angry
eyes. “Stop what? Just lay it all out. You’re hiding something from us.”
Everyone’s gaze was now fixed on SeokJin. SeokJin gave a look that
seemed to tell us to stop.
“Let’s go outside and talk.” NamJoon grabbed my arm again. I tried
to shake his hand off, but he tightened his grip to take me outside. I
braced myself against him. “Let me go. What right do you think you
have? What do you know? You don’t know anything. You think you’re
something special, huh?”
121
It was then. NamJoon abruptly let go of my arm, and I stumbled in
reaction. Or, it wasn’t a reaction that made me stumble. The moment he
let go of my arm, it felt as if the chain that linked us snapped in the
middle. Everything that propped me up and served as my footing
seemed to crack and split.
Maybe I was hoping he wouldn’t let go of my arm till the end.
Maybe I was hoping he’d yell at me to shut up and drag me outside
fuming. Maybe I was hoping he’d give me a good scolding like he would
to his real brother or someone too precious to give up.
But he released my arm. I couldn’t help but smirk. I was smirking
before I knew it. I spit out, “What is all the fuss about being together?
What are we to each other? We are all alone in the end.” At that
moment, SeokJin hit me.
122
JiMin
22 May Year 22
“We should go, too.” That’s what HoSeok said. I turned my head,
looking past the door of our lodging. The table, chairs, pots, and dishes
were scattered all over the place. “JiMin, come one.” I closed the door
hurriedly. They were way ahead of me. YoonGi and HoSeok took the
lead, with JungKook following closely behind them. There were seven of
us when we first came, and now only four were left.
I looked up as we passed the observatory. There was no light on the
beach after the sunset. The observatory and sea withdrew into the
darkness, and nothing was visible. There was only the roar of lapping
waves. I realized that this was the place. The place we visited when we
first came to the sea together. The rock, which was said to make dreams
come true. We cried out at the top of our lungs on this same spot where
the rock had been blown to bits to make way for a new resort.
“JungKook, wasn’t it somewhere around here?” I looked back, but
JungKook was already bolting way ahead of the others. HoSeok called
after him, but he didn’t seem to hear. It occurred to me then. JungKook
is also moving forward along his own path. JungKook had always been
behind the others. He had tagged along and stopped when the others
stopped. I was the same. I looked in every direction at an intersection. I
had to turn left to get to the train station or right to take the bus home.
I had to go back home someday. I couldn’t avoid it forever. I had to
confess my lies and tell the truth to my parents. Even if they weren’t
willing to hear them. I had to start fastening the first button at some
123
point. I saw YoonGi step into the road on the left. “JiMin, hurry up.”
HoSeok turned his head towards me. “HoSeok, I’m going home now.”
With a puzzled look, he asked, “Home?” I nodded. Then, I turned right.
124
JungKook
22 May Year 22
I felt like my body was floating in the air, but the next minute, I was
lying on the hard ground. I couldn’t feel anything for some time. My
entire body felt so heavy that I couldn’t even lift my eyelids. I couldn’t
swallow or breathe. As I fell into a semi-conscious state, I grew warmer
and warmer and my body suddenly shook all over. An undefinable pain
and thirst instinctively forced my eyes open. Something shimmery
caught my eye, which felt dried out as if filled with sand. At first, I
thought it was a light, but it wasn’t. It was bright, big, and blurry. It
hung in the air motionless. I kept staring at it for a while, and it began to
take shape. It was the moon. The world appeared upside down. My head
must’ve been tilted back. In that world, the moon was also upside down.
I tried to breathe by coughing, but I couldn’t move. A cold fit swept
over my body. It was frightening. I tried to open my lips but couldn’t
utter a word. My vision kept fading even though my eyes were open.
Someone asked me a question as my consciousness grew dimmer and
dimmer.
“It’ll be more painful to live than to die. Do you still want to live?”
125
After Returning
from the Sea
126
SeokJin
13 June Year 22
After returning from the sea, we went back to our solitary lives. As if
we’d made a rule, no one called each other. We just vaguely assumed
how the others were doing based on the graffiti we saw on the streets.
The bright light of the gas station, and the piano sounds coming from
the dilapidated building.
The lodging on the beach was empty when I came back after failing
to find TaeHyung when he ran out that night. There was nothing except
for a photo on the floor. In the photo, we were smiling together with the
sea in the background. It had only been a few hour earlier, but it seemed
like such a long time ago. Had we worked so hard and for so long for no
reason? Were we destined to fall apart like this?
I passed the gas station without stopping. We’d meet again someday.
We’d laugh together someday as we did in the photo. I’d gather enough
courage to face myself someday. But today was not the time. Damp wind
blew just like that day. At that moment, my phone rang as if sending me
a warning. The phone sent reverberations to the photo hung on the
rearview mirror. HoSeok’s name appeared on the screen. “SeokJin,
JungKook got into an accident that night.”
127
JungKook
13 June Year 22
I heard faint voices and opened my eyes to find HoSeok and JiMin
gazing at me. Every time I blinked, their faces kept disappearing and
appearing again. “Are you hurt? Are you in pain?” JiMin asked. “I’m
fine. I’m not hurt.” It was a lie. It was a serious accident and I had almost
died. The doctors kept warning the others for days that they should be
prepared for the worst-case scenario. I regained consciousness after ten
days and began to recuperate at an astonishing rate.
“You should’ve called us. What are we to you?” HoSeok sounded
mad. “HoSeok, it’s not that I···” I began to talk but couldn’t finish the
sentence. As soon as I came to myself at the hospital, I thought of them.
If I would’ve been able to think straight, I would’ve called them first.
But my mind was blank, and I was in pain. The sedative they gave me
was so strong that reality, dreams, memories, and illusions all seemed to
be knotted up in my head and were impossible to disentangle.
The unbearable pain finally subsided. But the strange images that
flashed before my eyes while suffering from fever and insomnia kept
coming back. I wasn’t sure whether those scenes had actually happened
or they were just twisted nightmares triggered by severe pain. I couldn’t
trust my memory. But I still couldn’t contact them. I didn’t know what
to say or even how to start talking. I just smiled at them. Or I tried to
smile at them. My face must’ve looked like it was all twisted up and I was
about to cry.
128
HoSeok
13 June Year 22
I walked out of the room because I felt tears welling up. JungKook
saying he was fine was heart wrenching. I had just heard of JungKook’s
accident that afternoon. The burger joint was packed with pedestrians
taking shelter from the rain. Some of them were JungKook’s classmates.
“How come JungKook doesn’t show up anymore?” I didn’t ask this
question for any particular reason. I’d lost contact with all the others
after returning from the sea, including JungKook. Then, an unexpected
answer came my way. “Oh, he was in an accident, so he’s been absent.”
“An accident? Is he hurt badly?” “We don’t know. He hasn’t been to
school for what, twenty days?”
I called him immediately, but JungKook didn’t answer. I was about
to call again but decided to open our group chat instead. No new
messages over the past twenty days. The last message was from when we
were at the sea. Was it then? That night when we all parted and went
back home. Was it that night?
I left a message that JungKook was badly hurt. And that, whatever
everyone was up to, it was ridiculous not to know what had happened to
him for over twenty days. The number next to my message didn’t budge,
meaning none of the others opened the chat to read my message. Did
our days together mean nothing? Were “we” fair-weather friends? I got
mad at myself. Mad for not contacting him earlier. Mad for letting him
return home alone. JungKook was not a child. But he was the youngest.
He was still just a student.
129
I strolled up and down the hallway a few times and stopped in front
of his room. Through the cracked door, I recognized JungKook’s face.
He clearly wasn’t fine. He looked as pale as a sheet. Suddenly, the image
of JungKook coming through the door of our empty hideout came into
my mind. He was just in his third year of middle school. His naive face
showed a sense of loss, as if he’d realized something had come to an end.
Did our existence remind him of that sense of loss? Four of the others
hadn’t checked my message the group chat yet. I posted another
message. “This is disappointing.”
“You? Dancing?” When I stepped into the room, JiMin and
JungKook were talking about a dance crew. JiMin said it had only been
about two weeks since he joined the crew and turned his head bashfully.
“That’s right. You were a good dancer. We should all go and see you
dance.”
TaeHyung’s call came through at that moment. “What have you
been doing? Why didn’t you check my message earlier?” I tried to sound
angrier than I actually was. TaeHyung stuttered in a croaky voice as if
he’d been crying.
130
TaeHyung
13 June Year 22
“How’s JungKook?”
That’s all I could say. I wrapped up my shift at the convenience store
and stepped onto the street to find puddles here and there. It had rained
a few hours ago. I’d noticed the rain when I turned my head to look out
the glass door when one of the customers bought an umbrella. My face
was reflected back to me in the puddle. My eyes filled with tears and my
throat was choked.
HoSeok said he was with JungKook and JungKook looked better
than he thought. I dropped down. “I’m OK.” HoSeok must ‘ve
handed his phone over to JungKook. He seemed to be pretending that
he was OK. “How about you?” “Worry about yourself.” My reply was
curt without meaning to be. JungKook laughed bashfully. “I’m going
over there right now.”
I couldn’t keep my word. I got to the hospital in no time, ran up the
stairs because I couldn’t wait for the elevator, and darted down the
hallway. I was just about to jump into JungKook’s room, but I froze
there. I could hear voices through the cracked door. It was NamJoon.
SeokJin was there, too. I stepped back without realizing it.
“I’m always the same.” NamJoon said. Indeed, he was. He was just
going on with his life. I dropped down on a bench in the hallway, People
in patient uniforms walked by, and some were in tears. If someone asked,
I must’ve answered the same. That I was always the same. That was the
truth. I just went back and forth between my house and the convenience
131
store. Dad was still drinking and making trouble from time to time. The
indoor light was still dim and the drain got clogged frequently.
There was one change. The nightmare had stopped. The nightmare
of YoonGi dying, JungKook falling, and HoSeok in a frenzy of despair.
Come to think of it, the nightmare must’ve stopped after the night we
fought at the beach. It was replaced by another dream. Tears ran down
SeokJin’s face. Blue flower petals rolled on the asphalt street at night,
were trampled down, and were tinted with someone’s blood.
I bent my steps. The elevator was coming up from the second
basement floor. I looked back at the patient room. I wasn’t ready to meet
SeokJin and NamJoon yet.
132
NamJoon
13 June Year 22
I arrived at JungKook’s hospital room in the middle of the night.
JungKook seemed OK. He laughed a lot and talked a lot. I did, too. We
talked about the gas station, the weather, and whatever else so we didn’t
have to talk about what was really important. JungKook should’ve
asked. But he didn’t. He didn’t ask why the others fought that night,
why we left, and why we didn’t come back. I was no different. I didn’t
tell him why I left our lodging without saying anything and didn’t ask
SeokJin what problems he had with TaeHyung. We just swallowed the
questions that we should’ve blurted out. On our way back, SeokJin
asked me if I was OK. “Do you know you haven’t said a word yet?” I
told him I didn’t know and I was sorry. I told him I was fine. We parted
near the gas station.
I looked around the night street just before I went into the gas
station. It was desolate. The red “Do Not Walk” signal turned to the
green “Walk” signal at the crosswalk. I crossed the street and walked
along the railroad. The fourth container from the end. We had had a
campfire here before we left for the sea. This was the first time I came
here since that day.
Dust rose when I opened the container door. I stood there for a
while until my eyes got used to the darkness. From what I’d heard from
JungKook, the others didn’t keep in touch with each other. No one
updated me about TaeHyung, but nothing much would’ve changed.
This container was the only place where TaeHyung could’ve taken
133
shelter from his dad. I knew it but didn’t drop by. It was exhausting
enough to go back and forth between the library and gas station. It was
the truth and an excuse at the same time. Deep down inside, I might
have been avoiding TaeHyung. I couldn’t afford to confront
TaeHyung, it was too emotionally exhausting.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see different corners of
the container. They were filled with memories of us sharing our lives
together. I told SeokJin that I was OK, but really I wasn’t. JungKook
who got into an accident couldn’t be OK. It couldn’t be OK to just
drown what happened that night all at once. If TaeHyung and SeokJin
hadn’t got into a fight that night, if I’d stayed with the others, if anyone
had been with JungKook then there wouldn’t have been an accident.
But I said I was OK. I casually chatted with him as if none of it was
my fault and tapped him on his shoulder, telling him to recover quickly.
I said it like it was a word of blessing or advice or consolation. I hadn’t
changed a bit. I was always hesitant before asking questions and making
choices at a fork in the road.
134
YoonGi
15 June Year 22
135
disjointed manner. Moments overlapped with one another and
fragments of memories piled up in a mess.
I heard a banging sound at the entrance just as I turned off the
music. Who could that be? I opened the door but no one was there. I
drank a cup of water and lay down on the sofa. The past few weeks had
been a hectic merry-go-round. Everything just couldn’t go smooth when
composing music. It was hard to concentrate at first. And I was also not
used to working with a partner.
The woman was straightforward and outspoken. She popped in and
out of my workroom whenever she felt like it. She never hesitated or beat
around the bush when she evaluated my work. She took away my lighter
when I tried to smoke and threw me a lollipop instead. She nagged me to
sleep and eat. I couldn’t argue with her because her performance and
pieces were impressive, Because her evaluation was accurate.
That provoked me. I began to spend more and more time at my
workroom. I lost my sense of time and became addicted to my work. I
would stay up all night once I got down to work. I didn’t answer calls or
check my messages. All my nerves were on edge, and I didn’t want to talk
with anyone. I switched off the alerts for every chat app. Would I have
turned out as skilled and talented as the woman if I hadn’t wasted my
time and had continued training in music? I wondered. I didn’t want to
fall behind her.
“This is really nice.” That was what that woman said after listening
to the unfinished piece yesterday evening. It was an upgraded version of
what I’d previously written. “This is really nice.” It felt as if I’d heard the
exact same words before. I was trying to call up the memory when she
136
got her guitar out. Then, she began to harmonize and play variations of
the melody. I sat in front of the piano and played along.
“Don’t forget. We’re meeting at the hospital tomorrow morning.”
The woman packed her guitar and stood up about two hours later. I
looked up at her with a blank face, and she rolled her eyes. Then, I
remembered. She’d been giving free solo performances at hospitals and
schools. She’d told me last week to tag along to the next performance. I
hadn’t answered, but she finalized the plan on her own. She said she’d
call early in the morning and I should make sure to pick up the phone.
After she left, I sat in front of the piano again. It wasn’t bad. But it
felt as if something substantial was missing. I distinctly remembered that
I’d almost grasped what it was the last time I worked on this piece. I
made changes, but nothing clicked. I stood up from the piano bench,
feeling pressure on my chest. Maybe I was putting too much emphasis
on that something because it didn’t come to me. Maybe it’d be better to
fine-tune the piece a bit more and stop waiting for that something. I
looked out the window. The sun was coming up.
My phone vibrated as it powered up again. She hadn’t called yet. I
lay down on the sofa. My phone rang after a few minutes. The name
JiMin appeared on the screen. That instantly reminded me of a scene
from my dream last night. A house was aflame. Someone asked me. “Is
there anyone inside?” I answered. “No, there’s no one inside.” The scene
shifted, and I was sitting in Mom’s unlit room. Mom was saying, “If I
hadn’t had you··· If you hadn’t been born···.”
I don’t know how I got from my workroom to the hospital. I was
running up the stair like crazy when I snapped out of it. The hallway was
strangely long and dark. People in patient uniforms slid by. My heart
137
kept throbbing. Their faces were pale like sheets. And expressionless.
They seemed dead. I could hear my heavy breathing in my head.
I could see JungKook in his patient uniform lying on the bed
through the cracked door. He must be asleep, but he seemed as if he
were dead. “He almost died. The doctors said it was a miracle he was
alive. It was that night, that night we came back from the beach.” JiMin’s
voice was still ringing in my ears.
I turned my head. I couldn’t look at him anymore. A multitude of
images flashed before my eyes like a panorama. The flame that made a
crackling sound in a drum at a construction site, Mom’s room that had
always been unlit, the sounds of the piano that came from the fire,
JungKook’s back as he clumsily played the piano at the music shop,
JungKook lying unconscious on the empty street, and the pain and fear
he must’ve gone through as he lost consciousness···.
She said, “It’s all because of you.” She said, “If you hadn’t been
born···.” Mom’s voice. Or was it mine? Or was it someone else’s? I’d
been tormented my whole life because of those words. I wanted to
believe that they weren’t true. But JungKook was lying there. He was
lying in a hospital where patients roamed around like the living dead. If
I’d just ignored him and left the music shop, if I’d just died in the flames,
would none of this have happened?
At that moment, the melodies of the woman’s guitar penetrated my
mind. The guitar sound overlapped the crackling sound of the blazing
fire, the sound of the piano, and countless other sounds. I covered my
head and ears with both arms, but the sound of the guitar only grew
louder. I turned and began to escape down the hallway. I bumped into
passers-by, but I didn’t have time to turn around and apologize. They
138
shouted curses at me. I didn’t look back. I had to run away from that
voices and the hallucination. My head ached, I’d lost all my confidence. I
ran down the hallway, faltering and staggering, and got out of the
hospital.
139
JungKook
15 June Year 22
A noise from outside the room roused me from sleep. I was having a
strange dream but couldn’t quite remember the details. The night of the
traffic accident replayed like a blurry CCTV screen in black and white. I
could feel my heartbeat slow down and then quicken explosively. All of
a sudden, pain surged, and someone was whispering faintly. The next
minute, I woke up writhing.
My entire body was soaked with sweat. The sunlight came through
the window and right onto my face. I stepped into the hallway and was
met by the usual scene. It was my first time to use the crutches. I still
needed to get used to them but they were much easier than a wheelchair.
I went outside through the entrance. It was breezy. My sweat cooled
quickly, and it felt chilly on the back of my neck. It wasn’t as warm as I
thought inside my patient room.
As I sat down on a bench and opened my sketchbook, the doctor in
charge came over to me. He said it was a miracle I had recovered, he
hadn’t thought it’d be possible. He tapped me on my shoulder, saying I
was the living proof of a miracle.
“You should be good for the rest of your life.” I turned my head and
saw a girl standing there who I’d met yesterday in the hallway. The girl
said it was so amazing to find a miracle right next to her and asked me
how I felt. I responded that I was just really healthy.
I lowered my eyes again to the sketchbook. Before I knew it, I was
drawing what I’d seen in my dream. My memories were blurred like the
140
CCTV screen. It was hard to concentrate on my drawing or the
memories because the girl kept asking me questions. After a while, I
looked up. A familiar song was playing. Someone was giving a
performance in the distance. I definitely knew this song. YoonGi
sometimes played this in his workroom. I went over to the stage on my
crutches. A lighter marked YK was hanging on the guitar.
141
JiMin
3 July Year 22
HoSeok had been in a bad mood since he visited JungKook. If anyone
could truly tie the seven of us together as “we,” HoSeok could. He
embraced and protected “us” like a shelter. But he wasn’t always as
bright and cheerful on the inside as he tried to appear in front of us. It
was closer to a sense of responsibility. He instinctively sensed the
wounds and pain of those around him and couldn’t bear them well. This
was why he pretended to be livelier than he actually was by nature.
Even today, HoSeok just sat in one corner of the practice room for a
long time and left without saying a word. I joined Just Dance and began
to learn how to dance right after I returned from the sea. HoSeok gave
me the opportunity. I was awkward at meeting new people as I’d spent
too much time in the hospital. He brought a new dance partner, too. She
was a friend he’d met at the orphanage.
She was the only person who could make him laugh when he was in
that mood. When she murmured something while looking at his phone
together, he chuckled. “You laughed. You laughed.” She made fun of
him. HoSeok turned his head away, telling her to stop it. He chuckled
again.
The practice room became silent in a flash after I turned off the
music. I just lay there on the floor. I liked dancing when I was little. I
danced a lot and often was praised for it.
But the patient room wasn’t a good place for dancing. When I
attended school in between hospital stays, I just sank my head on my
142
chest to avoid the eyes of my classmates. After a while, my body felt so
stiff. I couldn’t perform the motions that HoSeok did so easily. There
was nothing to do but keep practicing, even after everyone else had left.
I replayed the video of the dance moves I’d learned earlier on my
phone. HoSeok’s moves were fluid but accurate in the video. I knew that
they were a product of years of practice and that it would take a long
time for a novice like me to reach that level. It was wishful thinking. I
could only keep sighing out loud.
I went to my “parents’ house” the day I left the beach alone. As I
looked up at the brightly lit windows, I couldn’t help but think, “Has
this place ever been our house?” I pressed the bell at the front gate. It
took a while for it to open. I took the elevator and got off at the 17th
floor. Although the door was open, no one came out to greet me.
My parents were sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching a
black-and-white movie on TV. “I don’t want to go back to the hospital.”
I blurted out after some hesitation. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything
rash. But I’m not going back there.” “Where have you been?” Mom
asked. “With my friends.” “Friends? Wash up and go to bed. We’ll take
some time to think about what to do with you.” Dad cut in.
I bowed and went to my room down the hallway. As soon as the
door closed behind my back, I collapsed. ‘We’ll take some time to think
about what to do with you.’ Dad’s voice rang in my head. I tried to brace
myself, but it wasn’t easy. I barely slept that night. Instead, I made two
resolutions. I’ll discover what I’d like to commit myself to. And I’ll
prove that I’m good at it.
I picked myself up and stood in front of the mirror. I could imitate
the turns pretty well, but my feet kept getting twisted up. I kept making
143
mistakes. I was supposed to do steps with my new dancing partner the
next day, and I wanted to impress her. I wanted to be recognized as an
equal instead of hearing “not bad.”
144
JiMin
4 July Year 22
When I came back to myself, I was rubbing at my arm so hard that my
skin peeled off. My hands trembled and I could hear the sound of my
heavy breathing. A thin stream of blood ran down my arm. By the
reflection in the mirror, I could see that my eyes were bloodshot.
Fragments of what just happened raced through my mind.
I’d lost concentration while dancing with my partner. My steps got
tangled. I crashed into her, fell down, and skinned my arm. The blood
reminded me of the Grass Flower Arboretum. I felt suffocated. I
couldn’t remember how I got up, ran out of the practice room, and
made it to the restroom. I scrubbed and washed the scrape like crazy,
becoming more and more frightened at seeing the blood sucked down
the drain. I thought I’d overcome this. I thought I was OK. But I wasn’t.
I had to flee. I had to wash it off. I had to look the other way Then, I
suddenly realized that my partner also fell.
I quickly rushed back to the practice room but there was no one
there. Her overcoat and HoSeok’s bag were scattered on the floor. I ran
outside. It was raining hard. I could see HoSeok, with my dancing
partner on his back, running with all his might in the far distance. She
seemed to be unconscious. Her limp arms swayed in every direction.
I chased after him with an umbrella in my hand but came to a stop. I
tried to recall the moment she fell but couldn’t.
When I saw the blood, everything around me vanished. I wouldn’t
be of any help even if I caught up with him. I’d hurt her by pushing her
145
to the ground but didn’t even stop to see if she was OK because I was
shaking like jelly at my own blood.
I turned around. Every time I took a step, rain splattered onto my
sneakers. The headlights of cars swished by me. It’d rained on that picnic
day a long time ago, just like today. On that day, I’d run away from the
Grass Flower Arboretum. My body was covered with mud that looked
like blood. I hadn’t grown up one bit from that little eight-year-old kid.
146
HoSeok
7 July Year 22
My ankle didn’t heal well. I had a small accident a few days ago. Now I
can say that it was “small,” but it was serious at the time. JiMin and that
girl ran into each other while practicing a dance move and they both fell
hard. I carried the girl on my back and ran to the hospital. It wasn’t far,
but it was raining. She was unconscious.
While she got treated, I paced up and down the hallway. It was late
at night, but the hallway in front of the emergency room was full of
people drinking coffee from the vending machine or looking at their
phones. Rain and sweat dripped from my hair. I shook my hair with one
hand, sitting down on a bench in one corner, and dropped her bag by
mistake. Coins rolled around on the floor, and ballpoint pens and a
handkerchief were scattered all over. There was also a plane ticket. I
knew that she’d applied for an audition for an international dance team.
The ticket must’ve meant that she won the spot.
At that moment, the doctor called me up. I put the ticket back in
her bag and walked towards the doctor. He said that the girl had hit her
head and had a concussion and that I didn’t need to worry too much. It
was still raining outside. I stood by the entrance with her. “HoSeok.”
The girl called me. She seemed as if she had something to say. “Wait here.
I’ll go buy an umbrella.” I ran out into the pouring rain. A convenience
store came into view. I didn’t want to hear what she was going to say. I
wasn’t sure if I could congratulate her.
147
JiMin was anxiously waiting for me back in the practice room. I told
him that the girl was OK, but JiMin looked dejected and bent his head
low.
The next morning, my ankle was swollen. I’d tripped slightly the
night before while carrying her on my back. It was raining, and I was
running. I didn’t even fall. My foot slipped just a little. I put on pain
relief patch and tried to walk more carefully. I thought it’d be OK. It
didn’t swell up that much at first. But it got worse and worse. I had to
stay on my feet all day at the burger joint. And I couldn’t skip dance
practice.
148
TaeHyung
10 July Year 22
I darted down the sloping roads and through narrow back alleys. I’d
lived in this neighborhood for about twenty years. I knew every nook
and cranny. Every corner brought back stories and memories. But this
wasn’t the time for for reminiscing. The police were chasing me. I
couldn’t afford to get lost in memories. But as I turned one corner after
another, as I jumped one fence after another, it felt as if time was
winding backwards.
I spray-painted graffiti at the bus stop for the first time in a long
time. I picked up the spray cans again because of one girl. I ran into her
while she was trying to steal food from a convenience store a few days
ago. She couldn’t bring herself to look down at her empty hands. She
was obviously scared of her empty hands. I didn’t want to admit that I
knew exactly how she felt. You have to look squarely into your own
empty hands. No one can do it for you. But I couldn’t turn my head
away from her. I recognized the look on her face. The look when you fell
like you don’t belong anywhere in the world. When you’re afraid you are
responsible for everything that went wrong in you life. When you are
lonely and don’t know where to go or stay.
I saw that girl from time to time after that day. We didn’t do
anything special together. We just sat on the street or walked along the
railroad. Then we did some graffiti together. She seemed to feel awkward
holding a spray can for the first time but did her best to follow what I
did. Finally, we came to the bus stop. NamJoon got off at this bus stop.
149
The police also frequently showed up here. I once got caught spraying
graffiti here. The girl tried to read my face as I stood still with a spray can
in my hand.
I hadn’t been in touch with NamJoon since I saw him at the
hospital. But i did pass by his container by the railroad one night several
days ago. I was out in the street to get away from Dad and his drunken
temper. I just blindly ran out, wandered around aimlessly, and saw the
light on at the container. Someone was in there. It must’ve been
NamJoon. I wanted to go in. But I couldn’t. I got closer and could hear a
faint melody and snoring sound. I sat on the ground in front of the
container and looked up at the sky. It was literally pitch black without
any hint of stars.
The police were gaining on me fast. I was hiding in an alley with a
dead end. There was no way out. It was meant to be. Even if I stopped
reminiscing and concentrated on getting away, I’d get caught anyway. It
was the expected outcome. No problem could be solved with empty
fists. I walked out of the alley and put both my arms up. I surrendered.
150
NamJoon
13 July Year 22
I packed my bad and got out of the library. It’d been over a month since
I started working night shifts at the gas station. And I went to the library
during the day. I was beat after coming home from working all night.
But I didn’t just sit around after the alarm went off. It’s not that I’d
accomplished anything over the past month. I just stared out the
window or skimmed through magazines in a daze. It wasn’t like I wasn’t
feeling impatient. I knew I had to go at my own pace. But it wasn’t as
easy as I thought. What were all these people doing here in the library?
Would I be able to catch up with them? But I didn’t know where to start
or what to hold onto.
I leaned my head against the window of the bus. From the library to
the gas station. Every day. The tediously familiar landscape slid by
outside the window. Would I ever be able to escape from this routine? It
seemed impossible for me to even wish for a better tomorrow.
A woman sitting in the front of the bus came into view. Her
shoulders heaved as if she were sighing. She was the woman who handed
out fliers on a pedestrian overpass. I also recognized her from the library.
We’d studied at the same library and gone home on the same bus for the
past month. I’d never struck up a conversation with her, but we watched
the same landscape, went through the same experiences, and sighed in
the same way. I saw how she dozed off in one corner of the library and
how her nose bled in front of the coffee vending machine. I wasn’t
looking for her, but she caught my eye from time to time. I still had the
151
hairband in my pocket, which I bought from a street vendor without
thinking after I saw her hair tied with a yellow rubber band.
The bus was approaching her stop. Someone pushed the stop
button, and several passengers stood up. But the woman didn’t. She
must’ve fallen asleep. Should I wake her up? I hesitated for a moment.
The bus finally came to a stop, but she showed no sign of moving.
Passengers got off, the door slid closed, and the bus drove on.
The bus reached my stop and the woman still hadn’t woken up. I
hesitated once again as I got out through the back door. No one would
pay attention to her. She’d missed her stop already and wouldn’t wake
up until a few more stops passed. That’d probably add even more fatigue
to her life.
The bus departed as soon as I got off. I didn’t look back. I’d placed
the hairband on the woman’s bag, and that was it. Several days ago, I’d
been here and seen some graffiti painted on the wall in front of the bus
stop. I’d automatically looked around, but TaeHyung had been
nowhere in sight. I’d assumed he’d left in a hurry because the spray cans
were rolling around on the ground. I stared at the graffiti painted all over
the wall for a while.
152
SeokJin
14 July Year 22
I sat on a bench at a tent bar next to NamJoon. It was after midnight,
but the tent bar was filled with guests who had come to close their days
with bitter drinks. The call came in the afternoon. NamJoon had asked
me to meet him after his shift at the gas station. And he hadn’t said
anything so far. He just continued to drain glass after glass. I asked him if
anything was wrong, and he just smiled and shook his head. “It’s just
that my life hasn’t changed a bit since I was born. It doesn’t get better or
worse.
NamJoon said that his energy had run dry. That he’d pretended to
be a friend when he couldn’t do anything for us. That that was why he
couldn’t meet TaeHyung or visit JungKook again. That he was making
excuses even at this moment and he was nothing.
Our high school years came to mind after we’d had quite a few
drinks. That incident TaeHyung disclosed on the beach. Why did
NamJoon defend me then? “Why did you do it then?” Instead of
answering my question, NamJoon asked another. Why did I do what I
did then? Mom’s death, my childhood at my maternal grandmother’s in
LA, Dad’s cold expression when I came back to Korea. I’d never felt the
warmth of a family. Maybe I was feeling tipsy or it was the night air, but
I confided all my secrets that I’d never revealed before.
“Now I know everything about you, but aren’t the others also
waiting for you to share your story? Waiting for you to give them a clue
about what happened then?” NamJoon said after listening to my
153
confession. I told him goodbye and headed home. I strolled along the
street for some time, staggering a bit. The night breeze was refreshing,
and the moon in the sky was bright. I stopped in front of some graffiti
painted on the bus stop. If I confessed everything, would NamJoon
believe me? If someone confessed to me what I was going to say, would I
be able to believe that person?
A few day ago, I drove past the convenience store where TaeHyung
was working. Through the car window, I could see him smiling. He was
walking to a customer and laughing out loud. That familiar laughter that
made his mouth turn into a square shape. What is there to talk and laugh
so loudly about with a customer? Well, TaeHyung had always been like
that. He shook with laughter at jokes no one found funny and shed tears
at things no one found sad. How should I reconcile with TaeHyung?
The future appeared bleak.
154
HoSeok
16 July Year 22
I turned the pages of the sketchbook one by one. We were smiling
together in the classroom-turned-storage room, in the tunnel, and
against the backdrop of the sea. JungKook was lying alone on an asphalt
road. Blood was streaming down the road. The large moon hung high in
the night sky.
“Are you hurt?” I looked back and saw JungKook coming into his
patient room. I had danced with my ankle wrapped in a pressure
bandage, and now a plaster cast was around that ankle. “I seem to be in a
better shape than you.” I deliberately showed a dramatic reaction to his
words and said that his health was unbeatable. JungKook said he’d
undergo a thorough checkup the next week and be able to go home after
that if there were no problems.
I decided that we should throw him a party. We’d had a party at
NamJoon’s container on the day JiMin escaped from the hospital, with
hamburgers and cola and cake that SeokJin brought. We fought over
who got to wear the only party hat until it was crushed. We smeared that
expensive cake all over each other’s faces. NamJoon complained that
he’d have to clean up the mess all by himself. But it was fun. The seven
of us finally got together for the first time after we left high school. We
laughed at every word and every movement. Every minute together was
exhilarating and exciting even though we didn’t say or do much. I had
wanted to make a day like this. A day we met and laughed together again.
155
“Hey, that night···” JungKook started to say as we got off the
elevator and headed for the front door of the hospital. His gaze was fixed
on something outside. He didn’t seem to actually be looking at anything.
He was just blinking his eyes as if trying to dig up an old memory. “Does
SeokJin talk about that night? I mean, has he said that he saw me or···?”
JungKook stopped talking. “SeokJin? Saw you? Where?” I asked, but he
didn’t open his mouth again.
“You’re a good person, right?” JungKook asked me before we
parted. “Stop walking nonsense.” I tapped him on his shoulder playfully
and waved goodbye. I quickly bent my steps. Am I a good person?
Growing up, I’d been told that I was a bright and cheerful kid. I used to
be told that I was sensitive and impressionable. Did that mean I was a
good person? I’d never given it a thought before. I looked back and saw
him still standing at the entrance and looking up at the cloudy sky.
156
SeokJin
24 July Year 22
I followed Dad into the brightly lit conference room. I sat on a chair by
the entrance and looked around. I wasn’t sure why I’d been summoned
there. Dad sat in the center and was surrounded by familiar faces. I
looked at the clock. The discharge party for JungKook must’ve started. I
was thinking of calling the others when Dad opened his mouth and the
entire room became still. The atmosphere was heavy, but it didn’t feel
ominous. Rather, the room was buzzing with excitement and
expectations. The lights went out, and the title of the conference
appeared on the screen. Masterplan for the Redevelopment of
Downtown Songju.
Dad had called me all of a sudden. To be exact, it was his secretary
who called me. I’d said I had an appointment, but I didn’t think it
would work. Dad asked me in the car on our way here if I was still
hanging out with those so-called friends of mine. I didn’t answer. He
wasn’t asking a question. He was just belittling them, reproaching me for
getting along with them, and ordering me to cut ties with them.
He didn’t even look at me. “Don’t waste your time on nothing. I’m
telling you this out of experience. Besides, you’ll have to help out a lot
here. Try to learn as much as you can. Then, you’ll soon grow into an
adult worth your salt.”
157
JiMin
24 July Year 22
The inside of the container was completely decorated. The hamburgers,
fries, and drinks HoSeok brought were set on the table, and Christmas
ornaments were dangling on the walls. JungKook was sitting in the
center.
Only three of the seven cups were filled. HoSeok had left for his
part-time shift after laying out the food, and NamJoon was coming late
after his part-time shift was over. No one could get hold of YoonGi, and
SeokJin said he’d come but hadn’t shown up yet. TaeHyung sat
speechless. Is he still uncomfortable in NamJoon’s container? I’d almost
dragged him here, but it was impossible to liven up the mood.
This was how we were most of the time after returning from the sea.
No one reached out to the others first, and no one was aware of how the
others were doing. Maybe it was inevitable. We were no longer those
students who’d ditched school to hang out together. We all had our own
set of problems and obligations now. We couldn’t afford to disregard
them just because we wanted to be together. As for me, I had to work
hard to stay out of the hospital and decide whether I’d go back to school.
I had to prove my parents, as well as myself, that I was OK. I had to
make sure that I wasn’t a burden for anyone.
After some time, JungKook hesitantly stood up. I held onto him,
saying he should stay a little bit longer and see NamJoon. JungKook just
laughed, saying he’d take a rain check. I couldn’t keep him there. We
cleared the table and left the container. We turned on our phones’
158
flashlight function. It was ten-thirty. We parted in front of the
container. As I crossed the railroad and waited for the bus to come, I
could see JungKook and TaeHyung walking away in the distance with
their flashlights on.
159
TaeHyung
24 July Year 22
I darted up the stairs, taking three and four at a time. Liquor bottles were
rolling around here and there, and cups and plates were scattered across
the floor. Dad had fallen to the ground in one corner with his head
bowed. My sister said it was not what I thought even before I opened my
mouth. “Dad’s voice was a bit loud, and someone must’ve called the
police, thinking he was beating us.”
Then the police officers came into view. Women from the
neighborhood who were gathered in front of our door clicked their
tongues and walked away. My sister kept apologizing and bowing to the
the police officers. “Nothing was broken and no one got hurt.” I didn’t
need to be ashamed of this situation. Dad’s drinking habit had long been
the gossip of the neighborhood, but I looked the other way. Dad seemed
to have fallen asleep. His face was sun-burned and covered with a bushy
beard as he was working as a day laborer at a construction site. He had
more gray hair than before. I could see the watery inside of his mouth
and his tongue.
I used to kill Dad in my dreams. Once, I almost stabbed him in
reality. Maybe it started from that point. I began to sympathize with
him. I hated myself for sympathizing with him. Could that person be
called a parent? He was not qualified to be one.
Someone tapped me on my shoulder, and I looked back to find a
familiar face. He was a police officer who’d been dispatched to my house
a few times. I’d also seen him at the police station several times when I
160
was called in for my graffiti. I just bent my head low. It was a gesture to
say “I’m sorry.” for making then rush here for nothing, but I was also
uncertain what look to wear on my face. “Your neighbors must be
worried about you two a lot. The lady who reported whis incident
didn’t sound annoyed at all and asked us repeatedly to come quickly
before someone got hurt. Make sure to find her and thank her later.” I
asked him if that lady’s voice was low and husky. He couldn’t recall
exactly but it could’ve been. My sister, who was talking with another
police officer, turned her head to look at me.
“Do you keep in touch with Mom?” I asked her after everybody left.
She was cleaning up the bottles and plates scattered on the floor, and I
was sitting against a wall. Dad was still asleep in that uncomfortable
position. The sun had already set, and the long window above Dad’s
head was pitch dark.
My sister picked herself up and sat at the dining table She didn’t say
a word, but her silence more than answered my question. I asked her for
Mom’s address and telephone number. “I don’t know her number. I just
know that she lives in a rented apartment in Buk-gu, Munhyeon.
Taehyung, why do you want to contact her?” She asked. “To ask her.
What she’d been thinking. Why she left. Why she appeared again.” My
sister sat down next to me. “TaeHyung, Mom misses you.” I snorted and
stood up. She was clearly unaware of how mad I was. I told her I was
going to ask Mom these questions, but I wasn’t particularly curious
about her answers. How would it help me even if I knew why she left? I
just wanted to release my smoldering resentment. “Why did she come
here? She’s the one who abandoned us. And now she wants to play the
mom figure?”
161
I started walking north, towards the direction of Munhyeon. I
wanted to walk faster than my throbbing heart. That was the only way
for me to be able to breathe. It was already past the midnight. Buses had
stopped running and I had no money for a taxi. Walking was my only
option. In order to get there, I had to cross the railroad and a bridge and
pass through downtown. I might be able to get there before sunrise. I
sensed someone’s footsteps behind when I was crossing the railroad.
JungKook was following me. I’d completely forgotten that JungKook
was with me when I ran into my house at the sight of the patrol car out
front.
“Go away!” I shouted at JungKook and walked on without looking
back. He must’ve seen it all. The police, the neighbors clicking their
tongues, liquor bottles rolling around, Dad snoring, and my sister with
her head bent low. JungKook must have seen it all. I’d never told anyone
about Dad’s violence. Never. I’d never told the others that Mom ran
away. It wasn’t because of my pride. Maybe it was. It just didn’t seem
fair that I should have to explain my miserable situation and life by
myself.
I quickened my pace. I’d finally got out of the residential area and
climbed up the stairs of a pedestrian overpass over the railroad when I
heard footsteps behind me. I took a quick glance and saw JungKook. I
was going to scream why he was still following me but changed my
mind. It was none of my business. I stepped onto the bridge after
coming down from the railroad. JungKook was still following me from
far behind. I stopped in the middle of the bridge and looked down at the
river.
162
In the dead of the night, roads and buildings were dimly illuminated
by the streetlamps, but not the river. The jet black river ran ferociously
under my feet with a roaring sound. It felt more threatening because it
wasn’t discernible in the dark. JungKook also stopped behind me and
looked down at the river. There were only two of us on the bridge. No
pedestrians and no cars. Our T-shirts were wet with perspiration and
flapped in the wind.
“Do you know we’ve been walking for the past one hour?” I waved
at JungKook, and he came closer. We began to walk side by side. “Can I
ask where we’re going?” I told him I was going to my mom’s. I had
something to tell her. JungKook nodded. My pace was getting slower. I
suddenly wondered if I was really going to my mom’s. I didn’t exactly
know where she was living. I didn’t know her number or address. I had
no plan after arriving at the apartment complex. My rage had subsided in
just one hour and was replaced with hunger and pain.
I imagined what our encounter would be like. In fact, I had already
imagined it countless times. It was the next step that was unclear. After
asking Mom my questions, what would she say? Would she answer them
at all? If so, or if not, how should I react? Maybe it was better for all of us
if I didn’t meet her. That was always my conclusion. But I kept
imagining the moment and was now strolling the night street like this
without any plan to see Mom.
“Is your leg OK?” Come to think of it, JungKook just got his cast
off. And I’d made him walk for hours. “The doctor said I should walk a
lot as rehabilitation.” JungKook showed me a smile and outpaced me as
if he was trying to prove it. I couldn’t bring myself to say that we should
stop here. I decided to trudge on. “Aren’t you hungry?” As I loosened
163
up, all my senses came clamoring back. “I’m regretting that I didn’t
finish off the cake and that hamburger.” I giggled at JungKook’s words.
Human beings are so absurdly strong, or so absurdly weak, and we were
the proof – feeling starved, complaining that our legs hurt, and laughing
together even in this situation.
The lights grew brighter and more boisterous, and a busy street soon
appeared in front of us. It was far into the night, but the brightly lit
street was crowded with people and cars passing by. It was three-thirty in
the morning. We sat at an outdoor table outside a convenience store.
JungKook said he was thirsty as we were about halfway through our
instant cup noodles. I went into the store to buy drinks. When I came
back, someone was standing in front of JungKook. He had his back
turned to me, so I couldn’t tell who he was or what he was doing.
JungKook was looking up at him with an alarmed face. I ran to
JungKook’s side and looked at the man.
The man was wearing a dark khaki overcoat in the middle of
summer. He had a dirty mop of bushy gray hair, and his scraggly beard
was stained with ramen broth. He reeked of alcohol. He was greedily
devouring my instant noodles. It’d be no use asking him who he was or
why he was eating my noodles. I was surprised but not angry. Actually, I
was scared.
At that moment, someone from a group of troublemakers coming
out of the convenience store shoved the man’s shoulder, and another
tripped him. The man in the overcoat lost his balance and pushed the
table as he fell down. JungKook’s instant noodle cup toppled over, and
the broth spilled all over his legs. JungKook sprang to his feet and hastily
164
shook it off his pants. He said he was OK and wasn’t burned as the broth
had cooled already.
The group of troublemakers were walking away, snickering. The
man in the dirty khaki overcoat was staring at the toppled cup. His
fingers were on the table and covered with noodles. I couldn’t bring
myself to ask if he was OK. “Shouldn’t you apologize? You just made
this mess.” I screamed at the men. They looked back. “No, we didn’t. He
did. And no one told you to sit there. Little punks out at this hour.” The
men cursed inarticulately.
The man in the dirty overcoat looked at me. Our eyes met in the air.
He had yellowish eyes and a face covered with age spots. He reminded
me of someone. Someone who was always on the drink, swinging at
everything with his fists, and living like a dictator and a loser.
What I expected to happen happened. I flung myself at the men, and
two from the group threw punches at me. I dodged the first punch, but
the second punch grazed my chin. JungKook stepped in to stop me but
got caught up in the fight as well. The plastic tables and chairs were
turned over, and the “No Parking” sign got kicked down. The part-timer
at the convenience store had already called the police, as if he were used
to such rows. We could hear the siren a minute later. We all leapt to our
feet and ran in opposite directions, shouting at each other that they were
lucky to get away this time.
I was particularly good at fleeing. I sometimes got caught on
purpose, but now was not one of those times. I continued to lead the
way, checking whether JungKook was keeping up. A silvery car passed
by us at full speed. Its side mirror brushed against JungKook. Stunned,
he sank down. He’d just been discharged from the hospital after two
165
months because of a traffic accident. It was natural that he was stunned.
The car came to a screeching stop, and one of the men who’d hit us
earlier stuck his head out of the passenger seat window. “Watch it. We’re
letting you go just this once. There’ll be no mercy next time.” And the
car vanished with a roaring engine.
JungKook slowly picked himself up, holding onto my arm. He
looked uncomfortable. He must have hurt his leg when he fell. The
inside of my mouth throbbed. Blood smeared on the back of my hand
when I wiped my mouth with it. “Where should we go?” JungKook
asked. “With this leg? We’re going back.” JungKook began to walk,
saying that he was OK. “Look! I’m fine.” I stood there and watched
JungKook drag one leg from behind.
“Let’s go back!” I shouted at JungKook. I checked my phone. It was
four-fifty in the morning. We still had some time to kill until the first
bus came. I looked around and found a low hill behind the
entertainment district. “Have you seen the sunrise?”
I propped up jungKook as we walked up the hill. I sank down on the
stairs at the end of the gentle slope. They say the sky is at its darkest right
before the sunrise, and it was true. No stars were visible in the pitch-dark
sky. But neon signs of different shapes and colors were radiating bright
lights in the city down below. I turned my eyes northward. I roughly
guessed the neighborhood that Mom must be living in. There, that must
be it. She must be eating, sleeping, and cleaning in that apartment.
“JungKook, I followed Mom then.” JungKook stared at me. I fixed
my eyes on the lights streaming out of the windows of the apartment
complex. Then. That night. That night ten years ago when Mom left
home. That night when Mom, my sister, and I were beaten to a pulp by
166
Dad and we cried ourselves to sleep. I couldn’t recall why he beat us so
hard. But distinctly remember thinking, I’m supposed to go swimming
with my friends tomorrow, and I guess Mom won’t be able to pack a
lunch for me. Will my busted lips heal by tomorrow? If not, they’ll make
fun of me. My shoulders hurt. I shouldn’t have tried to turn to avoid his
punches. My sister is weeping quietly. It was even more distressing to
hear it today.
Half asleep, I caught a glimpse of Mom standing at our feet and
looking down at us. She was leaving. She was deserting us. I knew it
instantly. I pretended to be asleep, got up, and followed her. I didn’t
have any plan. I wasn’t thinking of living with her. I didn’t feel bitter or
scared. What it’d be like to have no mother, what it’d be to live without
one – it wasn’t something you could just understand.
I followed her for quite some time. In my memory, I walked all
night. But my memory must be exaggerated as I was a little child then.
She didn’t look back. Not even once. Was she really unaware of me
following her? Maybe she was struggling to look forward for fear of
having to take me with her if she looked back. “Of course, that thought
came to me afterwards. When I struggled to grasp and understanding of
her. Now? I don’t know why I came this far.”
“Hey.” I looked up at JungKook’s voice. “I’m sorry.” I gazed a him.
“What are you sorry for? Why are you sorry?” “You couldn’t go see your
mom because of me.” JungKook answered. “Are you an idiot?” I flared.
I didn’t mean to lose my temper. But my voice got louder on its own.
My tongue continued to trip as I wasn’t good at speaking and didn’t
know how to express my feelings. “Why do you feel sorry? People
should be sorry for you. What did you do wrong? I should be sorry for
167
you. What did you do wrong? I should be sorry for bringing you here.
My parents, who made me bring you here, should be sorry. Those guys
who picked the fight first should be sorry.” I continued to raise my
voice. “You are a good person. You are as good as you can be. It’s not
your fault. It’s not your fault!”
The sky, which had seemed to remain pitch dark forever, began to
turn bluish in a flash. The light that permeated the sky from the farthest
end sucked in the glimmer of the neon sign. We watched the sunrise
without a word. The huge, red-hot sun surged up over the apartment
complex. Is Mom watching the sunrise, too? The two of us sat in the
back of the bus next to each other on our way home. It was before dawn
broke over us. The road was empty, and the bus continued to race along.
I turned my head and looked towards the north once again. That night.
Mom had stopped walking. She stood there motionless for some time.
She didn’t look back, either. If I had continued forward at that point, I
would’ve reached her. I could’ve held onto her hand and asked where she
was going, where she was headed while leaving us behind, and when she
was coming back. I could’ve cried, thrown a tantrum, and maybe pulled
her back home. But I just turned around and returned home alone. My
entire body ached and I couldn’t go swimming with the others. I lay on
the floor, sweating and trying to sleep. I didn’t know why.
“It’s that man again.” Hearing JungKook’s voice, I looked out the
window. A stooped-over man in a khaki overcoat was walking alone.
168
The Direction Where
the Sun Rises
169
HoSeok
25 July Year 22
I ran into YoonGi on my way to the practice room from the hospital. I
was heading to the practice room without realizing it and stopped. What
would I even be able to do there? My ankle had gotten worse. The soft
cast had been replaced with a real plaster cast. The doctor scolded me.
“You shouldn’t strain your ankle.” But I couldn’t sit down while
working at the burger joint. I had a lot going on at the practice room,
too. “You have to be extra careful with your ankle. It’s been injured
before, and it might get damaged permanently unless you take extra
care.” The doctor kept saying this again and again.
I entered onto the main road leading to my house on my crutches. I
hadn’t gone home at such an early hour before. I hadn’t skipped training
without a special reason. I came face to face with YoonGi. He was drunk
and staggering at a crosswalk. He didn’t recognize me as he brushed past.
I turned my head and fixed my eyes on the “Walk” signal. Two days
after my visit to JungKook at the hospital, I’d gone to YoonGi’s
workroom. He didn’t answer my call, so I just went straight to his
workroom. It must’ve been in the morning because it was before I went
to Two Star Burger. I knocked on the door, but no one responded. The
faint sound of music streamed through the door. I thought of calling
him again but gave up. I kicked the door instead.
I’d known YoonGi since middle school. I knew how his mom had
died, how her death had impacted him, and how he’d struggled
afterwards. I tried to be a comforting, reliable friend to him. I laughed
170
off his harsh words and took him around even though he thought I was
annoying. But we were of no importance to him. We thought at least
JungKook must be different. He surely knew what he meant to
JungKook. He’d already heard about JungKook’s accident from JiMin.
But he didn’t come to the hospital. What’s worse, a woman who claimed
to be his musical partner came up to me out of the blue several days ago.
She told me that she’d found me after asking around with everyone. She
said what she wasn’t able to contact him.
The “Walk” signal turned green. I began to cross the crosswalk,
staggering myself. I looked back as I bent my steps. I tried not to but
couldn’t help it. YoonGi lay on the street in front of a cart selling
accessories. The vendor screamed at him as passers-by frowned.
“When are you going to stop doing this?” He looked up at me
blankly. “Do you think you’re the only one going through tough times?
Do you think I put on a smile in front of others because my life is all rosy
and bright? Tell me. What are you so upset about? Everyone knows
you’re good at music, and they all willingly put up with you even when
you act up. Yes, you must’ve been in pain since your mom died. I know.
But you can’t go on like this forever. Aren’t you going to make music?
Can you live without it? Haven’t you been happy, even just once,
because of music? Why didn’t you go see JungKook? Don’t you know
what you mean to him? Don’t you see we’re all hurting too? Don’t you
see that?”
I didn’t mean to push him so hard, but I was really upset. It wasn’t
entirely because of him. I was upset what I was on crutches. Injuries
were inevitable but also fatal for dancers. I thought I’d been on guard,
but I got hurt at an unexpected moment. It was my fault. No one else
171
could be blamed for it. I knew I’d be nervous and conscious of my ankle
every time I dance, and that’d make me dispirited. Or else, I’d get injured
again. And yet I couldn’t get away from it. I couldn’t live without
dancing. I had to keep dancing despite being dispirited and injured.
“It’s time to stop running away. If you’re going to run away again,
don’t ever come back.”
I turned around and crossed the street. “HoSeok.” I thought I heard
him calling me but didn’t look back.I’d always blamed myself for
everything that went wrong. I’d always thought I should’ve done this or
endured that. I didn’t want to live like that anymore.
172
YoonGi
25 July Year 22
173
I always took my chances at forks in the road. I had no destination. I’d
lost my sense of time. Maybe I was going around in circles. It felt as if my
knees would give in any minute because of the biting cold and fatigue. I
was out of breath, and my heart was throbbing. What if I just collapsed
here and died? Well if I’m destined to die here, then this is where I’ll die.
I sank down.
Raindrops fell on my face. It was as dark with my eyes open as when
they were closed. I was drowning in layers of darkness. I thought of
death again and again. I wanted to flee from the fears and desires that
continued to haunt me. I wanted to run as far from that terrifying object
that I was helplessly drawn to but couldn’t look at straight, that agony
that pushed me from one extreme to the other. Now must be the time. It
was all for the better.
I’d inflicted pain on others as I suffered greater pain. I looked away
from their wounds. I didn’t want to take any responsibility. I didn’t
want to get involved. That was who I was. This moment must be a
blessing for everyone. I blinked slowly and began to doze off. The cold,
pain, and fatigue disappeared. And I became numb to the darkness, the
light, and my surroundings. Everything became dim.
I opened my eyes again at the sound of a piano. It was silent. Except
for the sound of raindrops falling and leaves rustling. Amidst the silence,
the fragile and delicate piano sounds continued to drift towards me.
Someone playing the piano deep in the mountain in the middle of the
night? I thought it was a hallucination, but it continued.
I smirked. It was that melody. That melody I’d tried so hard to
recall. That something substantial that was missing, that made me stay
up all night for days on end. Why was it coming to me at this moment of
174
all occasions? I concentrated harder, but the tune was still barely audible
and distant and interrupted by the sound of rain. I started coughing.
I tried to stand up but stopped. What would I do now even if I
could discern the melody? What would change even if I completed my
music? I’d never wanted to be recognized by others, receive applause, or
be famous. I’d never wanted to prove myself. Then what would it mean
to complete this piece?
But I pushed myself up from the ground with one hand and started
towards the direction where the sound was coming from. I was
staggering and my body was trembling. My face and hands were numb. I
couldn’t feel my legs. None of my body parts seemed to be under my
control. But I took firm steps, one at a time, to get closer to the melody.
Heavy drops of rain struck my head. My shirt was dripping wet.
Every joint and muscle seemed to scream. Me legs shivered so violently
that I couldn’t lift my feet from the ground. My feet slipped on the wet
grass, and thorny twigs brushed against my shoulders. I felt chilled to my
core and almost collapsed. My pace grew slower and slower. The piano
melody had been subsiding with every step I took.
I strenuously quickened my pace to find the source of the music
before it stopped. I was afraid that, if it did, I would never be able to hear
it again. I marched forward, not able to tell the walking trail from the
forest. I was struck by drooping branches. Then, suddenly, my knees
crumpled and I fell to the ground. I was so out of breath that I felt like
throwing up. All my senses came rushing back, and I felt the cold,
fatigue, and strange surroundings deep in the mountain so vividly. As I
quickened my pace more and more, as I hit against more branches, as my
175
feet slipped harder, the piano sound became clearer. The more severe the
pain, the louder the sound grew.
I finally stopped walking after wandering in rain for hours. The
melody was more vividly brought to life. It exploded in my head as it
combined with what I’d been composing up until a few days ago. I
covered my head with both arms and sank down. It was closer to a raw
emotion than music. It stimulated my sense of pain rather than my
hearing. It was a combination of suffering, hope, joy, and fear. It was
everything that I’d tried so hard to get away from.
Suddenly, a scene from one bright sunny afternoon appeared before
my eyes. I was playing a tune in front of the piano in my workroom. It
was that melody that continued to revolve in my head. “This sounds
really nice.” JungKook came closer. I chuckled. “You always say that.”
It was not a single melody. It was a combination of various
memories. From the days I used to playfully pound on the piano keys as
a child. From the days my friends danced in sync with my performance
in the classroom-turned-storage room. From the days when I stayed up
all night writing pieces and inhaled the fresh morning air. My piano was
beside me at every happy moment. These happy memories always ended
up being shattered to pieces, but they couldn’t be denied.
What would it mean to complete this piece? I still couldn’t find the
answer. But there was something that preceded this question and the
answer. I wanted to capture all this before it scattered into the air. It
wasn’t to please anyone or to prove something. It wasn’t even for myself.
I just wanted to capture this emotion, pain, and fear, which were about
to explode in my head and heart, with music. It didn’t have to signal the
176
beginning of something. It didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted
to complete this music.
The piano sound was no longer audible. The rain was gradually
subsiding, but my body was trembling uncontrollably. I closed my eyes
and felt everything surrounding me even more vividly. The raindrops
that fell on my cheeks, splashed onto the ground, and flowed in a stream,
the chilly wind, the smell of soil. the rustling sound of leaves. And my
breathing. When I picked myself up, the sign for the mineral spring
came into sight. I thought I’d roamed deeply into the mountain, but I
was back where I’d started. And the path still stretched in two opposite
directions. I bent my steps towards the direction where the sun rises.
177
JiMin
28 July Year 22
I checked the inside of Two Star Burger. HoSeok was nowhere to be
seen. It’d been four days since he last showed up at the practice room.
Someone said he told my dance partner that he’d take a break, but after
that he didn’t answer anyone’s call. He didn’t even read the messages
posted in the Just Dance group chat.
I knew his ankle was bothering him. Maybe it was that night. The
night when my dance partner was injured because of me. It had rained
that night, and he carried her on his back to the hospital in the rain. His
condition must be getting worse.
As I stepped into the restaurant, the workers greeted me cheerily. “Is
HoSeok off today?” They said he was on sick leave, probably for three
weeks, but they weren’t sure. His ankle got worse. He had to wear a cast,
and the manager recommended that he take some time off.
I ran directly to his house. I couldn’t wait for the bus to come, so I
ran up the sloping road. It was scorching hot that day. My back was
dripping with sweat. I darted up the stairs to his rooftop room. The
doorknob, heated by the sunlight, was burning hot. It was locked. I left a
message in our group chat. “Where are you, HoSeok?” By the end of the
day, he still hadn’t replied.
178
YoonGi
28 July Year 22
I could finally manage to get up in the afternoon. I suffered from severe
chills for two days after coming down from the mountain. I couldn’t
remember any details from those two days. I trembled and shivered with
fever. I sometimes came back to myself but quickly lost it again.
My sheet was soaking wet. I still felt giddy. I stepped out of my
workroom, trying to keep myself steady. I went to the hospital to get an
IV and then stuffed food in my mouth. But I threw it all back up. I read
JiMin’s message while I was rinsing my mouth out in the restroom.
Although the number next to the message went down, there were no
replies.
I walked along the railroad and arrived at the bus stop. There was an
unfinished building in the distance. The construction had been halted
for months. The music shop was slightly up the hill after passing by that
building. I stopped in front of the music shop. There was no crackling
sound of flames or a clumsy, slow piano performance. I didn’t have the
energy to bend down, pick up a stone, and throw it. The whole thing
seemed like the distant past and made me wonder if it really had
happened. I could see a piano through the show window.
“Don’t you see we’re all hurting too? Don’t you see that?” That was
what HoSeok said the other day. The memories of that day were all
tangled up in my head. But I distinctly remembered that HoSeok was
somewhat different. It wasn’t the first time that HoSeok had been angry
179
with me. He’d never been on such edge, but he had always pushed,
pulled, and encouraged me every time I fell. Why did it feel different?
I opened JiMin’s message again. “Where are you, HoSeok?” Several
hours had passed, but HoSeok hadn’t replied. I could see that I’d let him
down. It felt as if something inside me was flopping and thumping
around. HoSeok often got angry and pushed us. But he’d never lapsed
into silence or looked the other way. He was the one who always paved
the way for me to come back no matter how far astray I’d gone. Not this
time. It seemed irrevocable this time.
180
NamJoon
7 August Year 22
I switched on the light and looked at the flier that was attached to the
door of my container. It read “redevelopment” and “demolition.”
People must be talking about the redevelopment of this area again.
There was always chatter about tearing down the containers lining the
railroad and the squatters buildings across the railroad. I crumpled up
the flier and threw it into the trash can. The talk of the redevelopment
didn’t begin yesterday. But it alway boiled up as if the demolition would
take place the next day and then subsided after a short while.
I put down my bag and lay on the floor. It’d been a while since the
sun set, but the inside of the container was still hot. I spent every night
here after I visited JungKook. It felt exhausting. My nose bled from time
to time when I was washing my face. But I always came here instead of
the tiny back room of the gas station.
No one else had opened that door and stepped in here. Maybe no
one ever would. All those who meet must part, without exception. It
could’ve been our turn. Bur, if someone still felt the need for “us” to be
together, I wanted to send him a signal that I was here. I wanted to show
him that “our” hideout was still here and still lit.
181
TaeHyung
11 August Year 22
I came out of the convenience store after finishing my shift. I habitually
took out my phone, but there were no missed calls or messages. It was
sundown, and the street was full of people busily walking by. I put both
hands into my pockets and walked on. A sultry wind swept across the
road. I started to sweat after taking a few steps. How much longer was
this summer going to last? I kicked the ground, frustrated.
I kept walking with my head bent low and stopped in front of a
familiar-looking wall. It was the wall where that girl drew her first
graffiti. I automatically looked around. Since that night when I left her
in the alley and came out in front of the headlights of the patrol car by
myself, I hadn’t seen her in my neighborhood.
I discovered a large “X” sprayed over her graffiti as I tried to find her
traces. What did it mean? Various images overlapped the “X”ed out
graffiti. The image of her laughing at me when I tried to lie on the
railroad and hit my head. And how she got me back up to my feet when
I helped her flee and fell. How she lost her temper when I took her bread
and ate it. How she looked gloomy every time she passed by the photo
studio with family pictures on display. I’d told her as we sprayed this
wall side by side, “Don’t think you have to carry the burden alone. Share
it with others.” The giant “X” was sprayed over all those memories. It
seemed to scream that they were fake. That they were all lies. I’d never
really looked at this wall since that day.
182
I was about to turn around when I discovered a short sentence
written in tiny characters under the “X.” It’s not your fault was scratched
into the wall. It was that girl. I didn’t see her write it or recognize her
handwriting, but I just knew. “It’s not your fault.” It was that girl.
I recalled the day I blindly set off to find Mom. I kept marching
frantically, filled with seething resentment, but in the end I couldn’t get
anywhere that day. While walking back home empty-handed, I turned
my head towards the city where she lived. The city was receding under
the light of the day dawning in the east. I felt like crying. Something that
I’d been firmly clinging to seemed to be slipping through my fingers.
Lumps of hard feelings noiselessly fell apart. It felt sad and sorrowful, as
if I’d given up something that shouldn’t be given up.
“It’s not your fault.” The sentence reminded me of how I felt at that
time. I started walking again. I passed through narrow alleys and went up
and down countless slopes. Finally, my house, Magnolia Mansion, came
into view. I climbed the stairs. When I stood in front of the door, I could
hear Dad’s heavy breathing and the clattering of liquor glasses. I turned
around, placed my hands on the guardrail, and looked out. The sun had
already set. Its dim red tint was disappearing from the darkening sky.
“It’s not your fault.” I muttered. I took a deep breath, turned around,
and went into my house.
183
HoSeok
12 August Year 22
184
who contacted the others first. I laid my phone down. I didn’t want to
contact them first this time. What if none of them send a message? So be
it. I remembered how I’d run into YoonGi the night before. What I
blurted out was replayed in my head. I sprang to my feet and shouted
into the air. “He won’t remember anyways!”
The way home seemed farther than usual after I left YoonGi there. I
had to go up the slope on crutches. Although the sun had set, the air felt
sultry. It was also humid. I was drenched with sweat when I got home. I
didn’t regret what I’d said to YoonGi. It was time for him to stop
indulging in self-pity. But those moments, those words kept coming
back to me.
On the rooftop, I could look down on the city without me. The
train was passing through downtown and disappearing around the
corner at the foot of the mountain. I carelessly threw my clothes into a
bag and headed for the station. I browsed through the list of cities in
front of the ticket office and picked the largest city nearby. I thought it’d
be better to move to the large city. And just like that, I left Songju.
I got off the train after about two hours. As soon as I walked out of
the station, I was faced with a bustling intersection. Rows of high rises
and people busily walking by under the bright sun came into view. I
took the first bus that stopped in front of me.
“Where should I get off?” The driver looked at me like I was
speaking nonsense. A passenger who asks his own destination? Yes, I
must’ve sounded stupid. After about twenty minutes, the bus arrived at
a neighborhood that seemed like an old part of town. I put down my bag
in a small room attached to a market that had a “Guesthouse” sign. I
stepped outside. I couldn’t tell which direction was which.
185
I just roamed around the neighborhood for the first two days. There
were no high rises and no brightly lit commercial district. It was similar
to my neighborhood where my rooftop room on the slope was. I’d
chosen to leave Songju for the first time in my life and arrived at another
Songju. Maybe this was why. I tried not to think of the city and people
I’d left behind, but I lost control. I turned on my phone and thought
about the others. I might’ve left Songju, but my mind was still there.
On the third day, I decided to venture out further. But in less than
twenty minutes after I left the market, my shoulders began to stiffen
with crutches underneath them. Sweat ran down my back under the
scorching sun. A red brick building came into view. It was the Citizens’
Hall. While I was pushing the button on the vending machine, the door
of the auditorium opened and several people came out. The sound of
music streamed through the open door. I could see a man stretching in
one corner of the stage with the spotlights illuminating his head.
I was heading into the auditorium before I knew it. As I closed the
door behind my back, I was left alone in the darkness and music. I sat
down in the closest seat. The sound of music flowed through the air like
lapping waves. The man on the stage moved slowly and stretched his
legs, ankles, arms, neck, and shoulders. His stretching, which went on for
a quite a while, seemed like a piece of choreograph itself. Then, the
music stopped. The man who was sitting on the floor picked himself up
and walked to the center of the stage. The stage was immersed in silence
for a while.
The music started again. This time, it came down in torrents. The
man quickened and slackened his moves to the music. His arms and legs
formed not just straight lines and curves but three-dimensional shapes.
186
One moment led to another through his dynamic moves and gestures.
His movements were creating a story that seemed to have no end. He
pushed aside the air with his hands and sent reverberations through the
ground, which sent adrenaline rushing not to my eyes but to my mind.
The pitch of the music grew lower and lower and led the man to a
greater outburst of emotion. He roared with rage with all his might,
caught his breath, and gazed at something far away. His suffering, hope,
joy, and fear were conveyed unfiltered. Feelings that I’d never
experienced before gushed and whirled inside me.
I wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. The light of the
auditorium was switched on. I just sat there motionless. Someone
approached me and asked me to leave because the dancers were
rehearsing. Outsiders weren’t allowed to stay. The Dance Academy
performance poster was attached to the entrance of the Citizen’s Hall.
The man on stage wasn’t featured in the poster. The performance was
scheduled to take place the day after tomorrow.
I came back to the guesthouse and lay on the wide bench in the
backyard. I closed my eyes and thought over those hours at the
auditorium. It was my first time to see a real performance in person. It
was a whole different experience from what I’d seen through that small
window called YouTube. I might’ve been all the more awestruck because
it was so vivid and alive. I retraced each motion and gesture that made
my heart pound.
At that moment, my phone rang in my pocket. ‘Where are you,
Hoseok?” It was JiMin’s message. The number next to the message went
down gradually, but no other message was posted afterwards. What
should I say. I had always explained myself half-jokingly, but I didn’t
187
want to this time It was the first time I hadn’t responded to a message
directed to me. Our group chat fell into silence.
I went to the auditorium at the same time the next day. I hid in the
darkness and watched the man’s moves. It was the same performance,
but it conveyed a different story and different emotions. Who was he?
How could he express and convey all these feelings like this? The
rehearsal ended. As I stepped into the hallway, I met the man’s eyes as he
was talking to the staff members way ahead. I bowed without realizing it.
A staff member came up to me and said. “Oh, you’re the guy from
yesterday.”
The performance took place the next day. But the man wasn’t in it.
The performance, which had four chapters, didn’t feature him. The
show went on for over an hour, and I applauded and shouted out several
times from my seat. But that was it. I couldn’t re-live that overwhelming
moment that boiled my heart and froze my body. None of it could
compare to his amazing moves. Why didn’t he join the performance? I
paced around the stage after the performance, but there were only staff
members and dancers busily tidying up.
I came across the performance team again at the train station. I was
stepping onto the platform to leave for another city and saw a group of
people gathered in the distance. They were obviously having trouble
loading stage sets and all sizes of equipment on the train. I didn’t have a
set purpose when I went over and helped them. It was just that they
looked confused and inexperienced and I was used to arranging and
movings things. My cast got in the way, but I was better than most of
them who were just standing there flustered. “You’re that guy again.” I
looked around and found that staff member.
188
“I didn’t even thank you properly.” The staff member came to my
seat a little while after the train departed. He sank down in the next seat
and said about half of the staff had left because things got messed up. He
added that they wouldn’t have made it without my help. He pointed at
my cast and asked if it weren’t too much stress on my ankle. I just waved
my hand.
“By the way, that man I saw in the rehearsal. Why wasn’t he in the
performance?” He seemed confused at first. Then he nodded. “Ah, him.
He’s our artistic director.” The staff member’s explanation continued on
and on. How he’d once been an acclaimed dancer. How he’d suffered a
terrible injury. How he’d undergone years of despair and frustration.
“Do you know the most amazing part? He surprised everyone and made
a comeback as a choreographer and director.” But the injury had left a
lasting impact. He couldn’t perform on stage again. The staff member
gave a deep sigh, It was getting dark outside the window.
I came to join and tour with the show by coincidence. I helped them
unload their baggage on the next station, and my bag got swept away in
the process. Fortunately, I had the number of one of the staff members. I
got off at the next station, went back to the station they got off at, and
headed to their lodging. It was late at night. I was invited to spend the
night with the staff. I had breakfast with them the next morning and
tagged along to the District Cultural Center, which was their next venue.
The staff’s proposal to join them and tour together must’ve been
made partly as a joke. I also half-jokingly chimed in. At that moment, his
practice began. I watched him blankly. And then I asked them. “Can I
really go with you?”
189
I toured around three cities with them. We took a bus or train, got
off, unpacked at a motel, stuffed food in our mouths, checked the stage
at the performance venue, came back to the motel, and got on the bus or
train again. The man stretched and practiced every day no matter where
he was. He never skipped a day although he wasn’t going to perform on
stage.
I made friends with the staff members and the dancers. Their dances
and mine were different, but we shared the passion to express what we
feel through movement. We talked about dancing on the train and while
we waited for the bus. We told one another about our favorite dancers
and watched their videos together.
I finally got to speak with him when I was showing the staff a video
of Just Dance practicing.
“You’re a dancer?” I looked around and he was standing there. I
stood up, stooping slightly. I looked at the man. I was at a loss as to how
to answer his question. I was hesitant to admit in front of him that I was
also a dancer. “You’re a dancer.” He said, pointing at me in the video.
That’s how I first came to talk with him. “Why do you like dancing?” I
nervously slurred the end of my sentence. “Well, that is··· you know···.”
The man asked me when I first started dancing. I told him it was at a
talent show at school when I was about twelve.
My classmates had dragged me onto the stage. My body began to
move automatically. I got even more excited with the clapping and
cheering of the audience. I couldn’t think of anything else. I just moved
spontaneously. After the music ended, I’d looked ahead, running my
fingers through my hair drenched in sweat. I felt as if I’d thrown up all
the lumps that were clogging my heart. It felt refreshing and rewarding.
190
It took me a long time to realize how exhilarating it was, and that that
feeling didn’t come from the audience’s applause but from deep within
myself.
The man pointed at me in the video and said that he liked my
movements. “Not every dancer can move like this.” I watched myself in
the video. I liked how I looked when I danced. I could fly into the air off
the ground and break free from the eyes and yardsticks of the world.
Nothing was important to me except moving my body to the music and
communicating my feelings through my body. Off the stage, I was tied
down by so many things. I couldn’t stay in the air with my feet off the
ground. I had to smile and laugh even when I was upset and sad. I used
to collapse on the street, taking medication I didn’t need. There were
moments when I could reveal who I truly was. Moments when I believed
I could be happy again. Moments when I could let go of everything that
weighed me down and soar high. Moments I could reach heights
unimaginable offstage. Dancing gave me those moments.
“I heard you overcame a serious injury.” The man stared at me. I
knew I was being rude, but I had to ask him. The man looked down at
my cast and opened his mouth.
“Height is important. But so is depth. You have to hit your bottom.
You have to go down until you can’t go lower, until you feel as if you’ll
suffocate from your despair. Then, you have to escape from it. What is
crucial is to discover your driving force. In other words, you have to find
what makes you stand firm again. Once you find it, don’t ever let go. It
can be a person or a desire. It can be evil and disgusting. But stick to it.”
“Do you live in Songju?The director is also from there.” A staff
member said this to me when I was looking at a promotional leaflet in
191
the lounge of the train station. The fireworks festival on the shores of
Yangjicheon in Songju. August 30. As far back as I could remember, I’d
seen the festival every year. It was held at the end of every summer.
When I was living at the orphanage, we all climbed up to the rooftop
and watched the fireworks surging into the night sky and showering
back down. After I left the orphanage, I lived in the topmost floor of a
multi-household house in the highest neighborhood in Songju. It was
the perfect spot for watching the fireworks. Although it was a bit far
from the fireworks display, it provided a wide, uninterrupted view.
“Did you change your mind overnight?” The staff member asked
me. He was the one who had suggested that I join the staff several days
ago. “We thought you were reliable and talented.” The other staff
members agreed enthusiastically. Some even applauded. I almost said
yes. I had become attached to them without realizing it. Touring was an
arduous job, but I enjoyed every moment of it, even lying down on the
bed at night moaning and groaning. My ankle would heal gradually as I
continued to work with them and stage more performances. Maybe I’d
be able to audition and be selected as an official member and get to
perform on stage. Maybe I’d be able to receive training from the man
and learn more about depth. I’d begun to think this might be where I
belong. The staff member told me to sleep on it, and I gave him my
answer last night. I thanked him for his suggestion and told him I had to
go back. “Are you sure?” He asked me once again. Picking up my bag, I
replied, “I have to go to get my cast off.”
I got on the train at the opposite track. I’d arrive at Songju Station in
two hours. It felt thrilling. I hadn’t been pushed to hit my psychological
bottom yet. It may never happen. But I’d thought about some moments
192
after the conversation with the man. ‘I won’t contact you ever again.
You live your own life. Don’t ever come back.” Maybe YoonGi had hit
his bottom that day. “HoSeok.” I’d turned around and walked on, and
he’d called to me. I didn’t look back. I abandoned him when he was
suffocating from his own despair. I ran away.
“Are you OK?” I sent this message after much hesitation. The
memory of that day had been weighing me down more and more heavily
each day. JiMin’s message was still posted in the chat. “Where are you,
HoSeok?” I sent YoonGi a message in another chat with just the two of
us.
His reply came at dawn. I woke up, startled by the vibration of my
phone. YoonGi’s name appeared on the screen. He sent me a music file. I
put in my earphones and played the file. I listened to his music with my
eyes closed, lying on the bed. It was beautiful and unlike anything he’d
ever made. Joy and despair intersected amidst sorrow, and a blue sea
stirred beyond a desert. Flowers bloomed and withered, and notes leaped
and fell headlong the next minute. It resembled YoonGi.
I asked what the title was, but he responded with another question.
“When are you coming back?”
The train station at midday was quiet. People carrying large suitcases
were coming down onto the platform to take the oncoming train. They
reminded me of myself on the day I’d left. I was wearing what I’d worn
that day and carrying a bag of the same weight. But my ankle must’ve
healed. It wasn’t the only thing that had healed. I opened out group chat
on my phone and posted a message. “What’s up, my friends! I’m back!
How have you all been?”
193
HoSeok
13 August Year 22
194
again “Sorry. I should’ve told you first.” “If you’re sorry, buy me a meal
I’ll throw you a really nice farewell party later.”
I deliberately smiled a big smile and made a fuss. “Let’s meet again
someday as famous dancers. Work hard. Because I’m not gonna let you
outdo me.” She nodded. The two of us in the mirror sat next to each
other leaning against the wall.
195
SeokJin
15 August Year 22
196
taking barista course, and sharing earphones with her boyfriend while
taking a walk. Smeraldo was one of them.
Underneath a magazine clipping of Smeraldo was the following
paragraph:
Love is not primarily a relationship to a specific person; it is an
attitude, which determines the relatedness of a person to the world as a
whole. If I truly love one person, I love all persons, I love the world, I love
life. If I can say to somebody else, ‘I love you,” I must be able to say. “I love
in you everybody, I love through you the world, I love in you also myself.” –
From The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm
I did a lot of things with her for on month. We took walks, sharing
earphones and listening to music like she wanted and volunteered
together at an animal shelter. We couldn’t do a temple stay, but we took
a bus and traveled to the last stop and spent time at our favorite café.
Smeraldo is a flower that is said to only grow in the northern part of
Italy. I dropped by a large flower shop nearby, but no one had ever heard
of the flower. Then I found this small flower shop still under
construction. It was at a corner on the left side after crossing the bridge
to Munhyeon.
I didn’t have high expectations when owner, who had been
organizing some documents in one corner, approached me. Upon
hearing the flower name, the owner stared at me for a long time and told
me he would be able to deliver the flower, although his shop was not
officially open yet. “Why does it have to be that flower?”
She didn’t know that I had her diary. She’d never be able to imagine
that I’d followed the list in her diary for all the things we’d done together
over the past month. I didn’t return her diary or tell her I had it. I knew
197
it was wrong. I knew I almost deceiving her. I tried to come clean a few
times, but I was afraid. I was afraid she might leave me just like my
friends. I was afraid her heart would turn cold once she got the glimpse
of my mistakes, wrongdoings, foolishness, and fear.
I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to make her laugh. Every time
I made her happy, it felt as if I became a better person. It felt as if my
shortcomings were being put out of sight. I had just one more thing to
prepare. It was a flower that meant “the truth untold” in the language of
flowers.
The owner seemed baffled at my request to get ahold of the
Smeraldo flower by August 30 and said it’d difficult to find one by then.
But it had to be that day. A display of fireworks was scheduled to take
place at Yangjicheon Stream. She was fond of the night sky. I was
thinking of confessing my love for her when the fireworks burst into the
night sky. I was thinking of presenting her with her favorite flower and
confiding my heart at her favorite time in her favorite place.
198
TaeHyung
29 August Year 22
It was HoSeok’s idea to get together to see the fireworks. After his
return, our group chat started buzzing and humming again. We told him
how we missed him in a reproachful and welcoming manner, and
HoSeok responded playfully that we should’ve realized the importance
of his existence earlier.
“Make sure to come for the fireworks.” We all said yes. NamJoon
would arrive after his shift for his part-time job, and SeokJin also
promised to come, however later, after his appointment. I was reminded
of my dream when I saw the message. A woman getting killed in an
accident with SeokJin watching her. That dream ended with fireworks.
White petals of flames poured down from the night sky.
I shook my head to dismiss these thoughts. The venue of our
gathering was NamJoon’s container. I sometimes took a walk in its
direction when I couldn’t sleep at night or when Dad got drunk and
acted up. I didn’t walk up to the door or stay for long like I used to. I
would just turn around when I passed the train station to catch a
glimpse of it.
But the container was lit every time. I hadn’t realized how unusual
that was until recently. It was always lit. Even when he must have been
asleep. I realized that it was a signal for us to come any time. I had no
way to know. It was just an assumption. But I was confident. Still, I
couldn’t knock on the door and go right in because I didn’t know what
to say.
199
The fireworks are tomorrow. I’ll be able to make it on time if I leave
as soon as I finish my shift.
200
YoonGi
30 August Year 22
I got off from the bus and strolled along the railroad. Containers
emerged from the distance. I saw TaeHyung from the bus window on
my way here. He was also walking towards the direction of the
containers. The others must be coming too.
I completed the piece several days ago. I changed the version I sent to
HoSeok a few more times. I gave it the title “Hope.” To be honest, the
title didn’t actually match the piece. It contained my fear, cowardice,
and inferiority. It contained all the moments I tried to avoid, get away
from, and reprimanded myself for. But I couldn’t think of any other
word that could encompass it all.
NamJoon’s container appeared. Someone was standing out in front.
His face wasn’t visible but, based on his physique, it was JiMin. I
stopped and looked around when someone called me from behind. That
someone was waving at me in front of the first container.
201
SeokJin
30 August Year 22
I received the bouquet of Smeraldo flowers at the last minute. It was past
the appointed time, and I was looking at my watch impatiently.
Fortunately, the delivery truck appeared before she did. The flower shop
owner was driving a truck with the F lower Smeraldo logo on the side.
“Sorry. The fireworks festival held me up.”
After the truck left, I discovered there was no card in the bouquet,
which I’d ordered with the flowers. I called the owner right away.
“Ah, I’ll make a U-turn now. The light just changed.”
Before the owner finished his sentence, she came into view, walking
towards me from an intersection far in the distance.
202
JungKook
30 August Year 22
I arrived at the railroad really early. The air had cooled down after the
sunset, and it was dark. I thought of going into the container but
decided to sit on one corner of the platform across the railroad. It’d been
a while since we all met. A mixed feeling outweighed joy and
expectation. I was constantly reminded of the day of the accident.
JiMin was the first to arrive at the container. He opened the door,
checked inside, but didn’t go in. I jumped off the platform and crossed
the railroad again. YoonGi appeared at that moment, walking slowly
with his eyes fixed to the ground, and looked back. There was HoSeok
behind him, loaded down with bags in both hands.
I felt uneasy and agitated. I was excited to meet them. But I couldn’t
just enjoy this moment freely. I’d been waiting for so long for this
moment but wanted to turn around at the same time. The first set of
fireworks burst into the air without warning. The white flames surged
into the middle of the night sky and exploded into millions of sparkling,
blazing petals with a big popping sound.
203
SeokJin
30 August Year 22
The delivery truck came to a sudden stop after making a U-turn. Its
headlights flashed. I stood there helplessly amidst the scene of crashing,
bouncing, and falling. I couldn’t hear or feel anything for a moment. It
was the summer, but the wind felt chilly. Then I heard something
hitting and rolling on the road. The fragrance of flowers tickled my nose.
I came back to reality. The bouquet of Smeraldo flowers fell from my
hand. She was lying in the middle of the road. Blood began to spread out
from underneath her tousled hair. Dark red blood flower down the road.
With a loud pop, the first set of fireworks burst into the air on the
night sky in the distance. Somewhere, I heard a mirror crack.
204
Epilogue
Nightmare
205
TaeHyung
11 April Year 22
It was dawn when I awoke. Dad’s familiar smell and snore streamed
from his room. Murky air on the other side of the piece of translucent
glass inserted into the front door ruffled. It took only three steps from
the narrow entrance where shoes were scattered all over to the master
bedroom. I’d begun to sleep there since I don’t know when.
I felt a pressure on my back and shoulders as I picked myself up. I
stepped outside with a glass of water in my hand. I carelessly slipped into
any shoes and walked slowly. I passed the police station, alley, and
pedestrian overpass, and the railroad beyond came into sight. It was
before the sunrise, and the street was immersed in silence with no cars
out yet. Someone’s vomit from earlier in the night reeked.
I walked along the railroad. One, two , three, four. I stopped in
front of the fourth container from the end. It was NamJoon’s. I reached
out for the doorknob and came to a halt. NamJoon must be asleep now.
And what I saw last night in my dream must be nothing more than a
nightmare.
I took a sip of water and turned around. The dilapidated station
and railroad, abandoned houses, and trees and weeds that were growing
haphazardly in between. A black plastic bag rolled towards me and then
flew into the air. It was a poor neighborhood.
In my dream, this area was enveloped in flames. The entire scene
seemed to shimmer and wave. Maybe it was because of the heat or
maybe it was because I was dreaming. Someone’s scream, some kind of a
206
crashing sound, the sound of crying, and the sound of something
crumbling all came together and flooded my mind. The images that
shimmered in the far distance suddenly drew near at full speed. I felt
nauseous and shut my eyes, but it was a dream. I couldn’t get rid of them
by shutting my eyes.
My gaze, first blocked by flames, pushed through people standing
with their backs to me the next minute, and then stopped suddenly.
One, two, three, four. The fourth container was NamJoon’s. The door
had fallen off. There were blood stains. Flames surged inside. People
stepped aside one after another. The floor came into view. NamJoon was
lying there. Someone blurted out. “He’s dead.”
I opened my eyes to find the ceiling of my house. I could hear
Dad’s snore. It was all a dream. My palm hurt suddenly. I turned on the
cold tap water and held out my palm. It felt numb under the jet of water.
I filled a cup with water and drank it. It was a dream. A nightmare.
207