The Nineteen-Year-Old Virgin
"But right now... all of that... is over."
I walked toward her slowly.
So-eun still had her face turned away, wiping at her tears.
The kid who always cried. The kid who was so fragile I could never stop worrying about her.
"What did I do wrong?"
So-eun hung her head. A teardrop fell onto the back of her hand.
There was nothing I could say.
I shifted over to the seat beside her and carefully put my arms around her — lightly, barely grazing her shoulders. Her body trembled a little. A small sound of breath being drawn in. And then, quietly, her tears ran down onto my shoulder.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
That was... all I could manage. For now. There was nothing else to do but hold her a little tighter, and the helplessness of that sat heavy on me.
"Why do you always cry? It kills me..."
"I'm sorry."
The whole way back, So-eun's tears soaked into my chest.
F-grade Lee So-eun. This fucking system. A country that decides you're not even a person if you can't get pregnant. Thinking about that system brought Su-jeong to mind.
What if she can't get pregnant? What if we end up having to split?
I stood in front of the convenience store fridge for a long time. So-eun's face kept surfacing — those trembling shoulders, the tears that had run down onto mine, and the version of myself who couldn't do a single thing about it.
I grabbed two bottles of soju. Dried fish, peanuts, a can of tuna. Whatever was closest. In the elevator up to the apartment, the bag swayed against my leg.
I opened the door. Su-jeong was on the couch watching TV.
"You're back?"
"Yeah."
I held out the bag. She looked inside. Two bottles of soju.
"Why?"
"Felt like getting drunk."
Su-jeong studied me for a second, then got up without a word and went to the kitchen. She came back with two soju glasses. We sat side by side. The glasses clinked.
"How was your friend?"
"..."
"Something happen?"
"She's infertile. Came back F-grade."
Su-jeong set her glass down. She didn't say anything. After a moment:
"Friends since you were kids?"
"Since middle school..."
She took a sip of soju and didn't ask anything more. We just drank together. In silence. That was easier.
Around the time the first bottle emptied, Su-jeong spoke first.
"I almost went F-grade too."
"Huh?"
"When I was twenty. First screening said there was something wrong with my ovaries."
"..."
"The retest came back fine, though." She turned the glass slowly between her fingers. "I was terrified then."
I cracked the second bottle.
"Taeo."
"Yeah?"
"Your friend. Is she pretty?"
"Yeah."
"Prettier than me?"
I looked at her. Her cheeks were faintly flushed — from the alcohol, or maybe not.
"No."
"Liar."
"Is there a woman prettier than you?"
Su-jeong smiled, small. Even her smile was as pretty as her swearing.
"Comfort her properly. Invite her over sometime if you want."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Sneaking around behind my back would be fucking gross."
Just sharing quiet conversations like this... it felt warm. I didn't know when words like "fucking gross" had become part of a gentle talk, but somehow they had.
"Remember what you said the first time you walked into this place?"
Su-jeong snorted.
"Fuck, how do you even remember that?"
"Exactly. That was the word. Fuck. Haha."
"Was it?"
"Back then I thought I was screwed."
"And?"
"I really am screwed. I don't want to go to work, and once I'm there I just want to leave, and even while I was with So-eun I kept wanting to see you. Everyday life is getting hard."
Su-jeong leaned her head against my shoulder.
"Idiot."
Even the word "idiot" could be warm, it turned out.
"But me too. When you're at work I just sit here staring at the front door. Even when it's not time for you to come home yet."
"Have you always been this good at swearing?"
Su-jeong let out a short laugh.
"You think I was dropping f-bombs since elementary school?"
"No..."
"I guess I learned it to survive."
I thought I understood what she meant. I put my hand to her cheek.
"We're going to get pregnant. For sure."
"And if we don't...?"
Su-jeong's body trembled.
"..."
There was no answer for that.
"No matter what happens, there won't be a thirty-eighth husband for me."
She said it flat, expressionless. That made it hurt more.
"Can I... have you again?"
"Use me however you want. My dick is yours."
We looked at each other and laughed. Streetlights were coming on outside the window. The smell of soju, the smell of Su-jeong's shampoo. I liked those smells.
The next morning.
Thanks to Kim Do-hun, I'd gotten yesterday off. Su-jeong followed me all the way to the front door. She didn't say anything. Just stood there.
"I'm heading out."
"Okay."
Right before the elevator doors closed, she said quietly:
"Come home soon."
The office. Before Jeong Su-jeong, going to work had been manageable. Now I wanted to clock out the second I clocked in. I sat down and turned on my monitor.
"Oh, Kwon Taeo — you're alive."
Da-in. She was standing next to my desk looking down at me. She'd left her hair down today. Brown permed waves swayed over her shoulders.
"Alive and well."
"Something happen?"
"Personal stuff."
"A D-grade taking a sudden day off. Interesting."
This girl, seriously...
"I got permission from the department head."
Da-in's eyes widened for a second.
"The department head?"
"Why? Is that a problem?"
She shut her mouth and went back to her seat.
In the afternoon, a company messenger notification popped up.
I opened the folder. The files were sitting there perfectly fine.
What the hell?
The person who'd said my name on the broadcast. Nineteen years old. A girl. Habit of smashing the keyboard when she got flustered.
No reply. The read receipt was already showing.
I looked over at Kim Da-in's desk. The girl had her face planted on the desk, clawing at her hair.
Busted. Lmao.
The read receipt lit up again.
I shot up out of my chair.
"Team lead, have you ever seen a movie called Nineteen-Year-Old Virgin?"
"There's a movie like that?"
"Um. Excuse me. O-Oppa. Want to watch that movie with me?"
Da-in stammered it out. The team lead tapped at his keyboard.
"Nineteen-year-old what? Doesn't look like a movie like that exists..."
Ah. Felt like taking a shit I'd been holding in for ten years. Tingling all the way down to my toes.
"Da-in. Go grab a coffee, will you? One for the team lead too."
"Yes..."
Da-in got up and scurried toward the break room.
"O-Oppa, here."
She set the coffee down on my desk.
"From now on, fill it with ice too."
"Yes."
"Good. You didn't spit in it, did you?"
"No... should I have?"
"Pfft."
Haha. Still, it was fun.
On the way home, I got off the bus. The alleys of a D-grade neighborhood. A familiar route, but my steps felt lighter today — whether because of the Da-in situation or because Su-jeong was waiting for me.
"Excuse me."
A voice from behind. I turned around. Two women who looked to be in their early twenties — one in a pink hoodie, one in a white dress. Both holding their phones.
"Are you by any chance..."
"Yes?"
"Are you NationalSperm?"
I stopped.
"How did you..."
"Your face was fully on the broadcast."
The pink hoodie smiled shyly.
"Could you... give us an autograph?"
An autograph? From me?
"I'm just a D-grade."
"I'm a fan."
The white dress held out her phone.
"Can we take a picture together too?"
I stood there blankly. NationalSperm — 48,000 subscribers. For the first time, I actually felt that those numbers were people.
Click.
"And... what's CrazyBitch like? Is she scary in real life too?"
The pink hoodie asked carefully. I laughed.
"Terrifying as hell."
"Hahaha!"
Both of them covered their mouths and laughed. Then the pink hoodie suddenly grabbed me through my pants.
Huh? What the—
"Sorry!"
And then she bolted.
"Hey, are you insane?"
The white dress ran after her, laughing.
"Dude, it's seriously heavy lol!"
"Whoa, for real? Holy shit. I should've touched it too."
Their cackling faded into the distance.
What the hell just happened to me? I knew I was big, but big enough for this?
I opened the front door. Su-jeong had come all the way out to the entryway.
"You're home?"
"Yeah. Hey — on the way back, people asked me for an autograph."
Su-jeong turned her head.
"What?"
"Said they were fans. Two women. Took pictures and everything."
"..."
"One of them grabbed me and ran."
"Grabbed what."
"My dick. Over the pants."
Su-jeong's eyes narrowed.
"Those crazy bitches. Do they want to die."
"Haha."
"Fuck, I should just cut that dick off. Makes me nervous."
She said it with a smile, but it was still a little chilling.
"But even while they were running away, they said it was heavy."
Su-jeong snorted. She thought for a second, then:
"You're gonna make a lot of money."
"Huh?"
"You didn't know?"
"Know what."
"The more subscribers you have, the more national points you get."
"For real?"
"Did you sleep through reproductive studies class? How did you even pass."
I opened my phone and checked the points history.
"Holy shit. It's real."
120,000 points had been added.
Damn. This is actually lucrative?
"Then..." I looked at Su-jeong. "Want to try making the broadcast really dirty?"
She looked back at me.
"Dirty?"
"Yeah."
"Dirtier than now?"
"Yeah."
Su-jeong slowly curled one corner of her mouth.
"How dirty?"
"Your asshole?"
Her palm cracked across the back of my head.
"You little shit. I treat you nice for five minutes and you get fucking cocky."
"What."
"Does fucking my ass get me pregnant? Do you have any idea how desperate I am right now?"
Of course I did. One throwaway line and the husband authority I'd carefully built up got completely demolished.
"Anyway — let's actually make some money."
I turned on the TV. I didn't even search. It was just sitting there on the first page of the room list.
I looked straight into the camera.
"19YearOldVirgin. Watch carefully today."
Su-jeong sat down next to me, glanced at the screen, then climbed onto my lap and wrapped her arms around me. She whispered into my ear.
"Who's 19YearOldVirgin?"
"I'll tell you later."
"That bitch smashing her keyboard?"
Hahaha.
"Yeah."
The corner of Su-jeong's mouth curled up. That expression. I'd never seen it before.
