008. Tribulations (7) What Are the Signs of Love?
What were the signs of love, anyway? What stages did one have to go through before they could say they loved someone? Was it the first time they held hands? Their first kiss? Or maybe after their first time having sex?
There was probably no right answer. Love was an utterly abstract concept, unlike sex. Wasn't it? There was nothing to love—no alluring body panting before your eyes, no hot sweat trickling as proof of arousal, no feverish body heat. Just the belief that you loved the other person, or that they loved you. Love was something so embarrassingly empty, so hard to even picture, it bordered on obsession.
'That's why everyone clings to money, I guess.'
Han Yu-ra let out a sigh as that thought crossed her mind. Lately, her interest in one particular person had spiked. And she wasn't sure if it was love.
'Im Seong-u...'
Thinking of him made her heart swell like dough rising with yeast, leaving her feeling floaty and unable to focus on work. It got worse when she went days without sex or even masturbation. Her new pastime these days was watching Im Seong-u. Stealing glances at the man she liked, gauging how diligently he worked, studying every inch of his body. The elegant line of his neck. The veins bulging on the back of his hands.
'Seong-u.'
His sharp eyes, barely blinking, glared at the monitor with intense focus. He checked YouTube now and then, but his work ethic was top-tier. Reliable. Without him, the open beta wouldn't have been possible at all, right?
'I wonder what's in your heart.'
With just a week until the open beta, she'd even fired one more employee today. And yet she couldn't concentrate. If anything, Kim A-ram's departure had left her more unsettled, making her crave Im Seong-u even more. Honestly, she just wanted to lean into him. Hear some kind of attention, some words from him. Even if it came as punishment, she wished he'd look only at her, stay close and intimate.
'Haa...'
"I don't think it's a lack of ability on your part." His words had been harsh, but they made sense. Cold, yet laced with a hint of warmth.
"You've just grasped luck beyond your station."
'Even when you scold me like that, I don't hate it.'
Han Yu-ra hadn't always been someone with such low self-esteem, had she? Remembering that made her current thoughts feel a bit off.
'Ugh... embarrassing.'
Memories of the night flooded back. Unlike at the company, she'd been treated like a total bitch in heat. One-sided sex where she just took it from the man. Positions no rich, capable woman would ever tolerate, used until she nearly passed out. And then the faint warmth that followed—it was maddeningly missed. If it had just been physical pleasure from being fucked, that would've been fine. But the sticky lingering attachment in her heart had created something beyond the flesh.
'...Do I love you?'
Amid the cluttered mess of the office, among employees she could no longer trust, the only one she wanted to look at was Im Seong-u.
'My heart flutters. Seong-u.'
It didn't take long for that instinctive pounding to twist into desperate possessiveness. That's when it happened. Han Yu-ra felt a prickling gaze fixed on her.
"..."
Shin Na-young. The short-bobbed woman was glancing at her uncomfortably, as if to say, How dare you eye that man?
Han Yu-ra bristled.
'You...'
She recalled something a YouTuber had said. Women sometimes chose men based on ability or physique, but men overwhelmingly prioritized looks. It irked Yu-ra as a businesswoman, but she had to admit it. Kim A-ram, with her shitty personality, had lived off favors her whole college life because of her looks. That bitch hadn't bought her own meals once until graduation. The world was unfair like that. And that's precisely why Han Yu-ra saw Shin Na-young as a rival.
'It doesn't matter if I make money or not.'
Im Seong-u would look at looks first, too. That's why her plea for him to come back had worked—and why Shin Na-young was a threat now. Han Yu-ra fumed absurdly.
'Why are all the women in this company so pretty?'
She'd hired them herself, but it annoyed her anew.
'...Can I win?'
Han Yu-ra had wronged Im Seong-u. Sometimes to save on payroll, sometimes because she'd fallen for Kim A-ram's politics and resented him. With the experience she had now, she never would've mistreated him. Her regret deepened.
'I should've trusted only you.'
Even thinking that now made her heart thump, her blood rushing uneasily. Her feelings for him were so tangled. She wanted punishment. Forgiveness. And then love. Just a vicious cycle.
'But Shin Na-young is different.'
Their relationship was probably pure. Shin Na-young was pretty, after all. Cute button nose. Big eyes that stirred pity. Thick, dark lashes. Hard times, maybe? Her slightly stubborn, fierce gaze was endearing yet tough.
'And her body's in great shape.'
Han Yu-ra knew, having hit the gym herself once. Shin Na-young worked out hard. Knowing she'd been with Im Seong-u "since before" was despairing. High school classmates, probably. With only two years of history, Han Yu-ra already felt the crisis.
'Hoo... no easy opponents around here.'
Their eyes met in the air.
...
'This bitch...'
If someone asked what love was, Shin Na-young could answer confidently. Love was wanting to gaze at someone for a long, long time.
'Watching you is fun. Even if you don't look back...'
In a single day, those stolen glances multiplied in the brief gaps. Realizing you enjoyed just looking. Suppressing rational feelings, lying to yourself it was friendship. Na-young was convinced that process was love. She hadn't realized it long ago, but now she knew. It had to be love. Not obsession.
'What a fire witch.'
Big tits, suits her perfectly, capable, rich. That red ponytail even looked like fire-element. She could've hooked any rich guy, but no—she was eyeing Im Seong-u. It pissed Na-young off. In the end, Han Yu-ra struck first.
"Na-young, how's the programming coming along?"
"Oh, let me explain."
Im Seong-u jumped in cluelessly, but Shin Na-young ignored the director and spoke herself.
"Working on the ranking DB and the API calls to go with it."
"Aha."
Na-young wanted to show off her skills. Bootcamp grad (free one, even), but she deserved to stand by Im Seong-u.
'And you don't even know coding well? That's why you made Seong-u suffer?'
But Han Yu-ra was studying programming under Im Seong-u's insistence.
"You've been at it a while."
Na-young pressed her lips thin, eyeing Han Yu-ra. Rankings were just sorting, right? But actually, more complex.
"But we need daily, weekly, monthly rankings too. Update and verify them daily by date..."
Han Yu-ra snapped.
"It's the same DB anyway? Just tweak the formula and pull the right range of data, no?"
"Uh..."
Even Im Seong-u looked mildly surprised at Han Yu-ra. Unexplained anger and jealousy surged in Na-young. A twinge of defeat.
"I'll hurry."
"No, not rushing you. Na-young, got a sec?"
Na-young eyed her. One woman called for a private talk, and
"Ah, sure."
the other accepted.
...
The last meeting had been friendly. Na-young respected Han Yu-ra. Yu-ra trusted Na-young. Even if it was kimchi jjigae instead of pasta, and a three-month open beta deadline—but now? They were mortal enemies.
'What do I even say...'
Yu-ra had no experience; she didn't know how to broach it. She was impatient. Wanted to ask right away what Na-young thought of Im Seong-u. But life wasn't a morning drama. Dramatic lines needed buildup, she thought.
Na-young felt the same.
'Hey, you fire witch. I reserved Seong-u first, so back off. Who do you think you are...'
But blurting unasked questions seemed tacky. So they started with dumb, generic chit-chat.
"It's spring, but still so hot today, huh?"
"Yeah."
"..."
"..."
"Feels like summer already."
"Totally. They say lots of rain this year."
"Yeah..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Open beta's soon—let's push hard."
"You're working hard too, ma'am."
"Thanks."
"..."
"..."
Han Yu-ra couldn't take more of this idiocy. She spoke.
"Na-young."
"Yes...?"
"Before you joined, did you know Seong-u?"
Yu-ra felt emotional fatigue today. Right after firing Kim A-ram, she wanted to cling to Im Seong-u amid her turmoil. Na-young, not wanting to lose, countered.
"Yes, ma'am. High school classmates."
"..."
"Even before that, actually. Childhood friends? Haha..."
Yu-ra's brows twitched up and down with each word.
"When did you start working with our Seong-u?"
Na-young smiled thinly. Yu-ra's face crumpled, but she smoothed it over casually.
"College."
Like parrying a swift sword with taijiquan ease. Yu-ra's core hadn't cracked yet.
"Met him through business. He's from the startup package too. You, Na-young..."
"..."
"Ever tried business?"
Punchline. Na-young bit her lip. A thin vein pulsed on her pretty forehead. Born poor, scraping by on parents' food money—where was time for business? Yu-ra didn't know her story, but being steamrolled by privilege was suffocating.
"No."
I grew up too poor for that. Na-young swallowed it.
"Seong-u was pretty depressed back then. Or maybe... felt life had no meaning. He was struggling hard. Know about that?"
"Oh, of course."
Na-young met her eyes confidently.
"We drank so much together then."
"...I see."
Na-young caught the flicker of unease on her forehead. Like a wild dog biting the prey's throat.
"...Seong-u was really hurting. Back then."
That choked Yu-ra's breath. Her shoulders froze stock-still. Na-young cheered inwardly.
'You never stood a chance.'
Yu-ra's mentality cracked like dry twigs. Any normal woman would've folded.
'Got her...?'
But then Yu-ra's lips moved.
"I'm really sorry. To Seong-u."
"...Then,"
"...I think I gave him a dream. The dream of games. He seemed so happy talking about it then."
Na-young shut her mouth. You know that rap saying? Hip-hop's about keeping it real, not hard lyrics. The raw sincerity in Yu-ra's vibe was too heavy; Na-young couldn't speak.
"He loved talking games like that."
"..."
"And I ruined it all. Failed as CEO."
"..."
"So, I..."
Yu-ra's eyes welled up. Woman's tears as a weapon? Even Na-young, used to beatings, softened.
"From now on, I want to do right by him. So he can enjoy work again."
"..."
This woman loved Im Seong-u.
"Shall we head back?"
Na-young clenched her fists. Wanted to scream, but her mouth wouldn't open.
'So pure? Han Yu-ra's heart?'
As a woman, she understood. It rattled her deeply.
"So,"
"..."
"Tonight, I plan to talk with Seong-u."
'No, not pure at all.'
Na-young gritted her teeth.
...
Reading the texts, I felt a twinge of fear. A premonition of doom.
Han rep. How chillingly distant. I already felt a cold, prickling killing intent at the back of my neck. I glanced sideways. Na-young's face was serious.
Punch rhyme, huh... Don't fuck her. Don't use your dick. Homophone rhythm—I almost admired it before snapping out of it.
I almost typed I'll try, but held back.