The Girl Next Door's Secret

This is a story from when I lived in Unit 302 of Cheongun Villa.

I was twenty-four, two years into my glorious career of unemployment, and my daily routine never changed: community forums by day, ranked games by night. The last time I'd touched a resume was the autumn two years before.

Five million won deposit, 450,000 won a month.

They called it a studio apartment, but really it was a chicken coop — a human wedged between sheets of drywall with the soundproofing of wet paper. If the person next door coughed, I'd wonder whether I should hand them some medicine. If anyone set a morning alarm, it rang in my room too.

Just how thin were those walls? I found out my first week here.

It was around two in the morning. I was mid-ranked-game and told off one of my teammates, and the wall next door started getting pounded like a drum.

"Unit 302! Get some sleep already! If you're gonna curse someone out, do it in your head, in your head!"

That was my first-ever conversation with Yoon Seoyeon, the big sister next door.

When I ran into her on the stairs the next day, I panicked a little. After hearing that voice, I'd pictured some burly neighborhood ajumma — but standing in front of her door was a woman pushing nearly 170 centimeters tall. She wore workout clothes that clung to her body, her hair tossed up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a loose bun, a gym ball bag slung over one shoulder.

"Ah, so you're 302? Last night's trash-talker, huh?"

"...I'm sorry."

"Whatever. Do it again and I'm busting in there."

Then she smacked me on the ass, laughed, and vanished. I found out later she was twenty-seven and a trainer at the neighborhood gym.

From then on, Seoyeon treated me like some scruffy little brother of the block. When we crossed paths at the recycling area, she'd nag me to actually wash my hair for once, and whenever my packages got misdelivered she'd hang them on my door handle with a sticky note: "Another ramen box order? Again?"

"Minchul! You're dragging those Samseon slippers to the convenience store again? The girls will pass clean out!"

This was the woman who turned every man's head in one direction the moment she stepped into an alley in her leggings, saying that to a bottom-feeding shut-in who spent his days refreshing a jobless forum from the corner of his room. To me, Seoyeon wasn't so much a next-door neighbor as a member of an entirely different species.

At least, not until that rainy Tuesday evening.

A rainy day is a kind of absolution for the unemployed. A guy who wasn't going outside anyway, and now it's raining too? Case closed.

I plopped down in front of my computer in a stretched-out t-shirt and put a cup ramen on to cook.

On the rent thread I dropped "be grateful you can even live on that much, I'm paying five-and-five" and on the salary thread, "Forget 30 million, I'd bow at the waist walking in just to make 3 million."

And this, mind you, from a man who still hadn't fixed his resume.

Then my mouse cursor froze on the noise complaint thread. Beneath a post with over five hundred upvotes, one comment sat pinned at the top.

The comment hit me so hard I couldn't stop myself. My finger was already on the "new post" button.

I hit upload and refreshed a few times, and the comments started rolling in.

Upvotes: 0. Downvotes: 4.

Getting called an idiot on an anonymous forum of all places killed my appetite for the cup ramen. I was writing and deleting a rebuttal comment when I heard wet sneakers in the corridor.

Tap, tap-tap.

The footsteps stopped at the door next to mine.

The noona's home from work.

Usually she'd hum a little tune as she punched in her door code like she was playing a melody, but today all I heard, strangely, was a string of error beeps.

"Haaah, I'm seriously losing it... aish, of all times."

Beep-beep-beep — SLAM!!!

The door shut hard enough to crack its hinges, and for a moment there was silence. Then an urgent voice came right through the wall.

"Screw it, I can't hold it anymore!"

─ WHUMM!! VRRROOOM!!

???

Honestly, I thought something had exploded. It was loud enough to rattle the drywall. But that wasn't the end of it.

─ PRRRRRT! SQUEEEAK— BOMP! PSSSHUUUUNG

After several long tearing sounds, it finished with what could only be described as depressurizing air. At that point, even as oblivious as I supposedly was, there was no way I couldn't figure it out.

Yes — with a single wall between us, Yoon Seoyeon was letting loose with thunderous, room-shaking farts.

Ah...

There it was on my monitor, the comment I'd posted ten minutes earlier.

"Gahh... I thought my asshole was gonna rip open lmao."

Something collapsed onto the floor with a thump.

"I drank a shake AND ate sweet potatoes, and held it for three hours. Course it's gonna be like this. Haaah, what IS this smell? It's straight-up rotten."

What I felt in that moment was an indescribable sense of dissonance. To be honest, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it wasn't funny, and it wasn't disgusting either.

As the cup ramen went cold, the front of my training shorts was quietly, steadily swelling. I didn't even know why I was reacting like this. The image of the woman who'd once pounded on the wall demanding people curse in silence falling apart like that — it just would not leave my head.

What I did that night, I won't bother writing down. You all know how it goes.

The next morning, I ran into the noona at the recycling area.

She was in her usual workout clothes, carrying a bag of recyclables.

"Oh, Minchul's up early? Did the sun rise in the west or somethin'?"

She smiled brightly, just like always. Then she tossed the bag into the bin and asked, casually, almost too casually:

"You were home yesterday, weren't ya?"

"Huh? Ah — yeah, I was here."

"Really now. Well... it wasn't too noisy last night, was it? The rain was awful loud, see."

This was a test, no doubt about it. Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes had that dogged intensity of someone determined not to miss a single flicker on my face.

"I had my headset on, so I couldn't really say. Did something happen?"

"Nah, nah! Just askin' is all. You know what small talk is, boy? Haha. Well then, see ya around."

She smacked my ass harder than usual and went up the stairs.

Wait. Does she... know too?

I realized it then. She knew better than anyone how thin the walls were. In a word: she'd spent the whole night worrying that I might have heard last night's... performance.

Thinking about yesterday made the front of my pants awkward again.

Anyway, after that incident, my life started bending in a very strange direction.

Out of pure curiosity, I searched things like protein gas and abdominal bloating, and learned for the first time that whey protein, when broken down in the gut, produces hydrogen sulfide. Who knew useless knowledge could get a man this worked up?

I memorized her schedule too: out at 1 PM, home at 10 PM. The moment I heard her coming back from work, the headset came off and my ear went to the wall. It got to the point where 10 PM was the part of the day I looked forward to most.

Because when I thought about her — about how she'd clenched and held herself together all day long in front of her gym clients... hah. It was enough to drive a man insane.

And then, the fateful Thursday night.

Her footsteps were heavier and slower than usual. Even the door code beeps sounded weak. I hurried to the wall, dropped to my knees, and pressed my ear against it.

She was three steps inside her door when it happened.

─ PHUUUUNG!! PSSSHHEEEW—

Once the sound — loud enough to leave my ear tingling — had emptied out, the noona started sniffling.

"This is the worst, seriously... maybe I need to see a doctor."

Muttering to herself through a stuffed-up nose, she suddenly went quiet.

"What if the neighbor heard. God, I'd want to die of shame, aigoo..."

Gasp!

My heart genuinely stopped. My whole body went rigid with my ear still against the wall, and for a few surreal seconds, the two of us were both holding our breath on opposite sides of the drywall.

"Aigoo. He said he wears a headset for his games. It'll be fine... right?"

Only when I heard her soothing herself did I finally breathe again.

Wow. She ripped one, but I'm the one having a heart attack?

That's when it happened.

Something suspicious came drifting through the vent. A sulfur reek like rotten eggs, laced with the sour tang of sweat-soaked leggings — a smell so thick it burned.

Ugh!? What the—!?

The moment it hit my nose, my mind went hazy. And then I inhaled again — deeply.

Hah... so this is Seoyeon's scent?

That was the moment I knew I was done for. Listening through a wall had already graduated me to full-blown voyeurism, and now a smell fetish on top of it... apparently, sound alone was no longer enough for me.

Saturday, late afternoon. I was hauling a week's worth of cup ramen and cola up to the third floor when I found her standing in front of Unit 301.

She was in her yoga leggings, hunched over with her forehead pressed against the door. She looked drenched in sweat — apparently she'd come straight from her morning PT sessions.

She was clutching her stomach while trying to punch in the door code, but her hand wouldn't cooperate. I don't know how many times she missed, because all I heard were error beeps.

"Um... noona?"

She turned her head, and there wasn't a drop of color left in her lips.

"Minchul? I'm — I'm kind of in the middle of something—"

Before she'd even finished, something leaked audibly from the direction of her leggings.

─ FSSSSS... poot.

A sour smell spread through the corridor, and the noona's face went white, then crimson all the way to her ears.

"Noona, are you okay? Your stomach looks like it really hurts."

"Ahhk, don't look. Go away! Please, just—"

She looked genuinely desperate. I set down my plastic bags and took a step closer. My eyes, I'll admit, had wandered somewhere else entirely.

"You can't get the door open... if you just tell me the code, I'll punch it in for you."

"Are you insane! Who gives their door code to— ughk!"

Shouting took strength, and her stomach paid for it. Her legs buckled, and I reflexively caught her around the waist.

Thump.

Whoa — what is this?

Her lower belly was hard as a boulder and burning hot. I could literally feel something churning and rolling beneath my palm. The abdominal bloating I'd only ever seen in a search bar was sitting right there in my hand.

"Haaaahhk! No—!"

My sudden touch broke whatever final resistance the noona had left, and the last of her strength simply lost its way out.

─ POOTERDERDUCK!! VRRROOOM!!

The narrow hallway amplified every decibel, and a blast of hot air smacked straight into my thigh.

"KYAAAH!!"

She buried her face in both hands. But once the dam broke, there was no stopping it.

─ PRRRRRT! SQUEAK— PSSHHHEEW... BOMP!

"Stop... please, just stop!"

I never imagined I'd hear that kind of voice come out of her. This was the woman who'd pounded on the wall and told me to curse people out in my head...

If anyone started coming up the stairs, it would be over for us both.

"Get inside my place. Now, before someone comes!"

"No way... let go of me, I'm goin' to my own house."

"You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can't even punch in your own code! You're just going to keep standing out here?"

"Ughk, but—"

She couldn't answer. Maybe she heard footsteps below, because her body kept flinching at every sound.

"Fine, come on, come on! I'm losing my mind, but fine!"

With her consent secured, I practically hauled her into my apartment.

Beep-beep-click!

The moment the door shut, the noona apparently decided the crisis had passed, because she collapsed face-down on my floor with a sigh of pure relief.

"Minchul... forget everything you just heard. Okay? I'm begging you..."

She stopped sniffling and lifted her head.

"...You. Have you heard it before? Tell me the truth."

Instead of answering, I stayed silent.

"Tuesday, and Thursday too... I told you I was wearing my headset. That time, you—"

Her voice shrank smaller and smaller, and then she buried her face back into the floor.

"I want to die. I seriously want to die."

The woman who would've torn into me under normal circumstances was shaking and hiccupping into my floor.

Wait. Is this... my chance?

I hesitated, just for a moment. Wasn't it maybe permissible, in a situation like this, to indulge something? A shameless thought, I know. But instinct had been devoured by Hitomi long ago, and the noona I'd been watching all this while was far too tempting to resist.

So I pulled down my training shorts.

Spring!

I moved behind her and laid a hand on her legging-clad rear. Beneath the fabric, I could feel it still churning and bubbling.

"Noona."

"...Hm?"

"There's still some left in there, isn't there? Don't hold it — let the rest out."

"What'd you say?"

"Aim it right at my face. Do that, and I'll take what happened in the hallway to my grave."

Looking back now, I can say it plainly: this was the greatest misunderstanding of my life.