The Cracks in the Facade
As I stepped out of the motel, I found Yoon Siwoo staring right at me. I wondered why on earth he was hanging around a place like this, and I tried to just walk past him, but he suddenly blocked my path. He stood there, peering at me with such intensity that I actually flinched, which only made me feel pathetic. My pride stung, so I snapped at him.
"What?"
"...What were you doing in there?"
"Why on earth do you think I owe you an explanation for that?"
I answered him bluntly, despite the heavy, serious atmosphere he was trying to cultivate. I couldn't exactly tell him that I’d been putting on a fire-breathing show for a bunch of middle-aged men, or that I’d gotten all excited when they kept telling me how cool I was, posing for photos like a total dork. Yoon Siwoo’s gaze drifted down to the envelope of cash I was holding.
"Are you... doing this for the money?"
What else would I be doing a part-time job for? I gave a curt nod.
"...You didn't do it because you were forced to, right? Like, did they make you do something dangerous or..."
"I did it because I wanted to. It wasn't even hard; it was actually pretty great."
Hard? Hardly. It was the easiest money I’d ever made. Compared to dealing with the endless stream of jerks at the convenience store for minimum wage, I almost felt guilty taking this much. Ugh, just clean up after yourselves, you animals! I still couldn't forget the horrific state of the tables after the customers left. ...Honestly, getting paid sixty thousand an hour might be a bigger superpower than actually shooting flames from my body. For the first time, I felt like this ability I’d always dismissed as useless was actually pretty incredible.
As I was lost in those thoughts, Yoon Siwoo kept firing questions at me, as if he were dying to know every detail.
"...Are you going to do this again?"
"Well, if the opportunity arises. It’s not like there are many other ways to make this much money so easily."
I genuinely wanted to do it again if I could. Just hanging out with those guys and getting paid was like a money-printing glitch! Is there really a job where I can vent my stress and make bank? I was busy making sound effects in my head when Yoon Siwoo’s expression twisted.
"Can't you just stop doing things like this?"
He sounded like he was begging, his face looking like he was on the verge of tears.
"If you're short on money, I'll help you. So please..."
"Help me? With what? Do you think you're something special to me? I don't need it."
Did he take me for some kind of beggar? I was a wealthy tycoon with a total net worth of 143,000 gold! Besides, "help"? I absolutely hated being in debt to anyone. I gave him a cold answer and walked past the frozen Yoon Siwoo, heading toward home.
'Dad took on some debt, and we have to pay it back.'
When I was little, I’d wake up to find those red seizure stickers plastered all over our home. When I asked my mother what they were, she’d just give me a strained smile and tell me that. I remember visiting friends' houses and feeling envious, thinking, "So this is how big a house can be." Back then, I just thought it would be nice to have a big house. Compared to my friends' homes, ours felt too small for the three of us—Mom, Dad, and me.
But after the red stickers took everything—the vanity Mom polished until it shone, the large wardrobe that had been passed down from Grandma when Mom and Dad married, the one I always hid in during hide-and-seek—I realized that a big house wasn't necessarily a good thing. The place, now hollowed out by those red stickers, felt far too large for just Mom and me.
'Son, if you take on a debt, you must pay it back.'
In that empty house, lying under a single blanket together, my mother would hold my hand and tell me that. If you don't pay it back, other people might suffer. If you take on a debt, you have to pay it back. So, I decided that if I could help it, I would live my life without ever owing anyone anything.
I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to look, and Yoon Siwoo was following me. I gave him a sharp glare, and he opened his mouth as if to make an excuse.
"It's dangerous for a girl to be walking around late at night..."
I mean, I’m a superpowered individual, but whatever. I shot him a look of pure pity, but he clearly had no intention of turning back. I knew he was as stubborn as an ox. I suppose that’s why he was able to keep fighting through such impossible situations—if you put it nicely, he had strong convictions; if you put it bluntly, he was just incredibly pigheaded.
I gave up on trying to shake him off and kept walking home. The building where my studio apartment was located looked a bit run-down from the outside. It looked like it might collapse at any second, though the interior was surprisingly sturdy. As I reached my door, climbing the stairs that always made me nervous—I was convinced my foot would slip through the gaps—I noticed Yoon Siwoo’s pupils trembling as he looked around.
What a coward. It’s not going to collapse, you don't have to worry. I opened the door and went inside, intending to send him on his way, but he just stood there at the threshold, refusing to leave. ...Well, he did walk me home because he was worried, I guess. I let out a sigh and gestured for him to come in.
"Just come in for a second."
Yoon Siwoo’s eyes widened. I waited for him to step inside, and he walked in with his legs trembling. His reaction was like someone entering a haunted house in a horror movie. Usually, people like this always end up saying, "It’s actually cleaner than I thought inside," once they’re in.
I turned on the light and unfolded the small table I used for meals. I gestured with my chin for him to sit, and he seemed to understand, quietly taking a seat at one end. With the table unfolded and another person in the room, it felt cramped. I had that thought, and then realized I should at least offer him some tea, so I opened the fridge. And there was nobody—no, there was nothing there.
Come to think of it, forget tea; I didn't even have anything for breakfast tomorrow. I should have stopped by the convenience store earlier, but running into Yoon Siwoo had thrown me off, and I’d completely forgotten. Yoon Siwoo, you jerk.
I sighed, closed the fridge, and went to the sink. Thankfully, there were exactly two cups. Since I didn't have tea, this would have to do. I filled the cups with tap water, grabbed one in each hand, and walked back to the table. I set a cup down in front of Yoon Siwoo with a thud and sat down myself.
"This is all I have to offer. Sorry about that."
After saying that, I took a sip of the tap water. Maybe it was because I’d been sweating so much earlier, but the water tasted damn good. I’m telling you... this tap water... it’s sweet... Feeling like a single glass of water was washing away all my fatigue, I gulped it down. Ahhh. I let out a satisfied sound internally and set the cup down, but Yoon Siwoo was staring at me with a complicated expression, not even touching his cup.
Was he the type who only drank bottled water? Was he such a wealthy bourgeois that he wouldn't touch anything but Evian? I glared at him with burning eyes for disrespecting the local tap water. Hey, just try it! It’s to die for! Perhaps he finally acknowledged the quality, because Yoon Siwoo picked up his cup and downed the water in one go. His breathing was a little ragged, perhaps in awe of the taste of the tap water he was experiencing for the first time.
"If you're done, get going."
I waved my hand at him, signaling for him to get lost. Yoon Siwoo’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he stood up in silence. He put on his shoes, opened the door, and stood there for a moment before turning his head slightly to give me a faint smile.
"See you tomorrow."
I nodded at his words, and Yoon Siwoo closed the door and left. I cleared the cups, folded the table, took off my school uniform, and showered. After drying off and changing into my pajamas, I opened the fridge. Tucked away in a corner, barely visible, was a piece of chocolate that had melted and re-hardened into a distorted shape. I opened my bag, took out the chocolates the class representative had given me that morning, and shoved them into the corner of the fridge. It was better not to take on debts I couldn't repay in the first place. I closed the fridge door.
*
I opened my eyes slowly. Wondering if I’d woken up a bit early, I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was 8:20 AM.
...Wait. Holy crap, I didn't hear my alarm!!!!
I jumped up in a panic, scrambled into my school uniform, and bolted out the door. But then I realized, I was already late anyway. I thought about just walking, but I compromised and decided to walk at a brisk pace. Collapsing after smoking, skipping class, and now being late? Wasn't I basically a delinquent student? I mourned my already-ruined reputation as I pushed open the classroom door.
The classroom was unusually quiet today. No, it was always quiet during class, but the atmosphere felt... different. It was the kind of vibe where you felt like you shouldn't make a sound, so I just quietly slipped in and took my seat. Once I sat down, I realized the cause of the classroom's mood. In the seat right in front of me, where everyone’s eyes usually gravitated, Sylvia and Yoon Siwoo were wearing absolutely terrifying expressions.
Both of them had enough charisma just by existing, so it was only natural for people to shrink away when they looked like that. Even I felt it. Sitting right behind them, directly exposed to the icy atmosphere, I couldn't stop myself from trembling.
At lunchtime, for some reason, Sylvia ate separately from Yoon Siwoo. Sylvia’s ears twitched. Seeing that, I quickly ran to the school store and bought some macarons. I held them out to her, but Sylvia’s face went cold—so cold that it was clear she was incredibly angry—and she said to me:
"I don't need them."
I tilted my head, confused, and Sylvia spoke again.
"Didn't you hear me? I said I don't need them. You don't need to go out of your way to buy me macarons anymore. I have no reason to accept them from you, Scarlet."
"B-but, we're friends..."
I said, my voice trembling before I could stop it. And then, Sylvia looked me straight in the eye with those freezing pupils and said:
"I'm sorry about that. That was my mistake. So, from today on, I'll be honest with you."
Her lips parted slowly.
"I have"
"never"
"thought of you"
"as a friend,"
"Scarlet."
Every word that left her mouth felt like a hammer blow to my head. My hands and feet shook, and my breath hitched. My plan had fallen apart.