The Interview
April 1st.
The day had finally come.
The day of the National Debate.
We sat through makeup first thing in the morning, came out looking better than usual, put on the suits they'd issued us, and split across more than ten buses bound for Seoul.
And so, at noon, we arrived at the beating heart of every protest in the Republic of Korea: Gwanghwamun Boulevard.
I'd always figured the only reason a guy from the provinces would ever end up here was as a tourist. Turns out I was wrong.
A massive stage had been erected, and access control was already in effect across Gwanghwamun Square. We waited for the debate scheduled to start at six, and I couldn't help feeling a strange swell of emotion.
The people building and inspecting the stage were women. The soldiers on security were women. The police keeping order were women.
Seeing it all over again — this reality that cancelled every memory of the life I'd lived until now — made it hit home.
There were no men.
They were all dead.
Even the people driving the escort vehicles that had flanked our bus on the way up... all women.
From the waiting area tucked between the high-rises, I looked around. Among the crowds that had gathered, there wasn't a single man.
And we were drawing a kind of attention we'd never gotten before, simply for being male.
Minseok sitting there. Hyeongcheol gripping a water bottle. The older guy looking tense. Hundreds of eyes and camera lenses clung to every one of us.
This wasn't like before, when catching someone's eye made them flinch in surprise, or when people would just look away without a second thought.
Look.
Even now, those gazes were desperately, frantically trying to lock eyes with us just one more time. And from those looks — from the breathing, the expressions, all those nonverbal cues — you could feel a raw, powerful hunger.
I want to fuck him. I want to have him. I want to get mixed up with him — badly.
Under the weight of those desire-soaked stares, I felt like a beautiful animal in a zoo cage and a choice cut of meat at the same time.
Through the fences and the human cordon the soldiers and police had formed, a woman who'd locked eyes with me smiled and lifted her clothes. The distance was too far; all I could make out was a black shape.
Had she picked black on purpose, hoping for this?
Once she was sure my gaze had landed on her, she started thrashing around, trying to take the whole thing off.
"I told you he looked at me! I know him! Unnie, just a second — I'll be right back, I swear."
"That's not allowed. Please keep your clothing in order."
Fuck. What the hell is this.
"Hey, what's with you? Nervous?"
"Huh? Yeah. Hyeongcheol, you don't look it."
"I was too. Keep your face under control, though. They're filming everything."
Right. Our photos were already circulating on Instagram.
"Hey, what's your number?"
"No. 127."
"I'm No. 16, apparently."
"Sitting together like this, all kinds of photoshopped crap's gonna start popping up."
Ugh.
"Hey, get lost."
"Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but please wait inside the tent. Your presence outside is causing a disturbance among the crowd. Apologies."
"Understood. Sorry about that."
No, we're the ones who messed up. We didn't know it'd be like this either.
"Hey, let's go in. We've got interviews to do inside."
"What interview? There was something like that?"
"Dunno. The press showed up to cover it. The minister's doing one right now, and they said they want individual interviews too — asked us to cooperate. You gonna do it?"
"Don't tell me it's live."
"Yeah. And they're even uploading an edited cut afterward."
"That's just great. What if we don't?"
"Same as always. We'll get dragged through the mud and buried in hate comments."
Our dear hack journalists had taken to using the surviving men as gossip fodder, the way they used to with vanished idols.
Whenever you went on a portal site or YouTube looking for actual information, this was the kind of thing that came up:
Except for a handful of actually useful articles, it was nothing but this nationalist clickbait garbage.
"Gotta do it if we don't want that shit happening to us, right?"
"Yeah... hey. They're coming."
The tent flap lifted, and a camera crew came in along with a reporter holding a microphone.
"Yes! We've found our next interview subjects and moved on to the next tent."
"And here they are, the two of you. Hello~"
"Yes. Hello."
"Nice to meet you."
"Yes! I'm Park Sohee, a reporter with Joongang Broadcasting — one of five networks conducting interviews with the men ahead of the National Debate."
Ha... If they're splitting it among five outlets, that means we only have to do this once, right?
"Over a million viewers are watching this broadcast right now. Could you introduce yourselves?"
"Yes. I'm Park Seonghun, twenty-five. A pleasure."
"Yoo Hyeongcheol, same age. Do I need to say anything else?"
"No, no. Nothing's set in stone. Shall we ask our viewers if they have any questions? Please send them in via chat, right now!"
Then she turned her smartphone around to show us the chat room, and the firepower was insane.
Whoa. The energy's through the roof. I already feel like my soul's getting sucked out.
"Height! Weight! Body fat percentage! Where you lived! Whether you have a girlfriend! Whether you're married — you've sent in so many questions!"
"I'll pick a few of these and ask them."
"Let's start with Mr. Yoo Hyeongcheol. Could you step forward for a moment?"
"You're not showing up well on camera, so — yes, yes! Perfect! For the first question: you're quite tall. What's your exact height?"
The reporter who'd introduced herself as Park Sohee skimmed the chat at speed, then spoke in a loud, carrying voice. Her diction was so crisp you could catch every word on the first try.
"That's personal information, but... 183 centimeters, for now."
"Oh, you really are tall! Then what's your type?"
"Excuse me?"
"What's your ideal type?"
"Uh... I don't think that's something to talk about in a setting like this."
"You seemed quite nervous, so I was hoping a lighter question might help you relax — but it looks like I've upset you instead."
"I'm sorry! So please, viewers, refrain from sending rude questions in the chat. Anyone would be offended receiving a question like that!"
Look at the quality of these questions... They're going to do this to me too?
"Then let's start with the real questions!"
"Mr. Yoo Hyeongcheol! In a little while, at 6 p.m., you'll be participating in the National Debate as an on-site audience member, and you'll have the opportunity to pose questions to panelists including Acting President Lee Nayoung. First — how are you feeling?"
"Uh... as a citizen of the Republic of Korea, my heart is pounding at the chance to be present at a historic turning point."
"Have you thought about what questions you might ask?"
"I expect the upcoming debate will cover so many topics that I wanted to listen first and decide on the spot. I haven't settled on anything."
"Yes! Let's move on to the next question."
"You're one of the 512 men currently surviving in the Republic of Korea. How are you feeling about the present situation?"
"This world is so unfamiliar. Even now, I can barely believe that among all the citizens gathered outside, there isn't a single man."
"That's right. Even among the citizens living, working, and going about their lives in this transformed world, there are still many who haven't fully grasped it."
"In your case, Mr. Yoo, you've been living in a protective facility under the Ministry of Male Family Affairs since after the war, so I imagine you feel it even more acutely. How was the facility?"
"That's true."
"In my case, after I was released from mobilization, I came back to Seoul and stayed at home before going in, so I didn't feel that big of a change."
"Aside from it being a bit cramped and having restrictions on going out, it wasn't a bad life."
I didn't think it was cramped. Go die, you rich kid.
"So the facilities at the Ministry of Male Family Affairs weren't as inadequate as the public had been worrying! That's a relief."
"Well then, Mr. Yoo Hyeongcheol! Thank you for sitting for the interview!"
"Yes, it was a good experience. Thank you."
Ah, fuck.
I felt like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse, but I composed my face and approached the reporter.
"Then we'll continue with questions for Mr. Park Seonghun here beside us. Could you come forward!"
"Yes. I'll be in your care."
"Viewers, please stay with us until the end!"
"Then let's continue the interview!"
"Could you tell us about your family situation? While you were at the Ministry of Male Family Affairs' protective facility, were you able to stay in contact with your family?"
Off to a great start, I see.
"As for family, I have a mother and an older sister. I do keep in touch, but I don't think I've been able to call as much as I should."
"Is that so? Your family might be watching this broadcast now, or they might see the video later — would you like to say something, even briefly?"
At this age, she wants me to record a video letter? Ah... don't look at me with those eyes.
"Uh... the war ended and I still haven't been able to visit, so I've only been in touch by phone, but as you can see, I'm doing well."
"Please take care of your health."
"Yes! That was a video letter from a son — a rarity these days — to his mother."
"I think his mother, watching this, will be able to set her worries down."
"Continuing on — recently, through videos of the UN General Assembly circulating online and footage released by the government from the Ministry of Male Family Affairs, public interest in the men has been running extremely high."
"Are you aware of this?"
Ha... Why do I only get questions like this.
"...Yes. I'm aware."
"And what number are you, if I may ask?"
Don't you dare laugh next to me. You little shit, Hyeongcheol.
"...I'm Male No. 16. And the guy who just did the interview is Male No. 127."
"I'm not like that, but this friend here absolutely loves attention, so please give him plenty of it."
I'm not going down alone. Why are you making that indignant face?
"I see!"
"You seem quite embarrassed, so let's change the subject. It's been reported that people from the former North Korean region will also be participating in this debate."
"What are your thoughts on that?"
"I consider them citizens of the Republic of Korea, same as us."
"As this friend said earlier, I believe the spirit of democracy is being able to make your voice heard at a turning point in the history of the Republic of Korea."
"Those are wonderful words!"
"That's right."
"Now that we are one nation and one people, rather than speaking of hatred and exclusion, we ask that you call for unity, coexistence, and cooperation."
"Dear viewers!"
"That was Yoo Hyeongcheol and Park Seonghun, who kindly sat for our interview."
"We'll now be moving on to our next interview."
"Viewers, please enjoy a short commercial break."
"Thank you."
"Thank you."
"Thanks for doing so well. If anything rubbed you the wrong way, I'm sorry — contact me here later. All right, let's move."
Then she slipped a scrap of paper with her name and number into the breast pocket of my jacket and walked out.
Wow... She planned this? No means off-limits, huh. Seriously.
"Hey. We can't let our guard down."
"Yeah, looks that way. You gonna call her?"
"You think I'm insane?"
After that, I tore it up where no one could see.