Plans Gone Awry
It was strange. By this point, someone should have been grumbling and spoiling the mood.
“Eun-dam! This place is beautiful.”
“Still, it’s not like there’s nothing to look at.”
“People here hang their laundry that way, huh. They turn the water on from the outside instead of inside. Just like the old days back home.”
“We all used to live like that too.”
The adults wandered the alleyways, chatting about times before the eighties. I stared blankly at the backs of their heads as they split into pairs. Had they always been this cheerfully adaptable? Dad, sweating buckets yet enduring with nothing but a handkerchief. Mom and Aunt Su-young, who never compromised on hygiene, sharing ice cream from the local supermarket and laughing together. Uncle got a pass—he was the refined professor type. Even though they had skipped more than half their lunch, their faces were bright with smiles. At least eighty percent of that was thanks to today’s filial-piety champion, Cha Jun-jae.
“That spot looks better.”
“It has a romantic feel, dear.”
Aunt Su-young remained indifferent, but our parents and uncle trailed after Cha Jun-jae like mischievous little kids. At the restaurant he had calmed the adults’ opinions with a smile; in the alleys he won them over as both photographer and travel guide.
“One, two.”
Click. Every time he snapped a photo with that professional camera, Mom and Dad shouted “Good, good!” without fail. The situation was the complete opposite of my firm resolution to shatter any hint of romance the moment we arrived.
“That wall is pretty. Whose house do you think it is?”
“Looks like part of the resort. They’ve grown the flowers so beautifully.”
“Hey, you two come take one too.”
The attention of Mom and Aunt Su-young—who had already taken dozens of photos—shifted to me. A solo shot with Cha Jun-jae in this warm, harmonious atmosphere? I would rather die than accept.
“Put on the cardigan Mom bought you, just for a minute.”
“Mom, I’m hot.”
“Aish, why are you so sensitive about taking one little picture?”
This was a disaster. I was supposed to be the one causing trouble on the other side, yet here I was, on the verge of throwing a tantrum and ruining the trip myself. If that happened, all the blame and resentment would fall squarely on me later. The ideal scenario was for the adults to decide on their own to leave—because it was uncomfortable, because they couldn’t adapt to this place. Today of all days the weather was perfect, there were no chickens in sight, and no sign of any carriages. The adults twenty steps ahead looked radiant. And Cha Jun-jae, more terrifying than any chicken, stood waiting for me beside a wall overflowing with flowers.
That creature was a bundle of questions. No—he was a complete mystery. The boy whose default expression had always been indifferent, how had he become so refreshingly cheerful?
“Hurry up and stand next to him.”
“Yeah, Eun-dam.”
She forced the cardigan over my shoulders and shoved me into place beside Cha Jun-jae. Uncle took the camera instead. He seemed to be thinking seriously about composition. I walked over to Cha Jun-jae with stiff, creaky steps like a robot, then slowly edged away from him. Uncle, eye pressed to the viewfinder, suddenly lifted his head.
“Maybe stand a little closer.”
“I’m fine like this.”
Pfft. A short laugh drifted over on the breeze. It felt as if cold water had been dumped on my heart. My eyes narrowed as I searched for the culprit. There was Cha Jun-jae—mouth smiling, eyes dripping with thick, sticky emotion. He lowered his gaze and changed expression like a chameleon. His eyes met mine, silently ordering me to look forward.
“Uncle’s arm is going to fall off.”
“Eun-dam, take this too.”
They must have decided to display the photos in the living room. Mom handed over the yellow bouquet she had been carrying. Cha Jun-jae had given it to her and Aunt Su-young earlier, telling them to enjoy the mood. I accepted the flowers with an awkward hand and stared at the camera with an equally awkward smile.
“All right, Jun-jae, you move.”
At Uncle’s command, a white sneaker subtly slid closer. The scent coming from Cha Jun-jae was the same as it had been in high school, yesterday, and today. I had once asked what perfume he wore. It hadn’t been my own curiosity. Even if I liked the scent, I had zero intention of buying the same one. It had been a simple favor—someone had asked me to ask on their behalf. The moment I came within a meter of Cha Jun-jae, the identity of that fragrance was—
“Cha Jun-jae.”
“Yeah.”
“What perfume do you use?”
Cha Jun-jae, who would always drift away from his friends the second I appeared. He was probably embarrassed by my existence. High-school Cha Jun-jae had blushed and said he didn’t wear perfume.
“I just shower every day……”
What was there to be embarrassed about? I could never understand what went on inside Cha Jun-jae’s head. He ought to spend his whole life thanking his unfairly handsome genes.
Back to the point. This had to be the scent of the shower cologne he liked. The familiar smell I had always caught, the one I kept suspecting wasn’t perfume at all.
“Yeah, that’s nice and close.”
Before I knew it, Cha Jun-jae had settled beside me like a chattering best friend. I wanted to finish the photo and escape as quickly as possible. The moment I forced a polite smile, a weight settled on top of my head. It was so ridiculous that my gaze rose on its own. Cha Jun-jae, who had placed his hand there without permission, grinned as if urging me to hurry up and take the picture.
“Jun-jae. Isn’t that heavy for me?”
“Ah.”
He said it, but his hand stayed right where it was.
Click. At the sound I whipped my head back around. Uncle, who had taken the photo without consent, gave a thumbs-up and declared it a perfect shot. Was I the only one who didn’t understand what was happening? Cha Jun-jae was messing with me. Cha Jun-jae, of all people.
And he was gradually pressing down harder, as if adding more weight. My mood soured completely and I forgot every bit of the façade I had maintained until now. Without mercy I grabbed his wrist and tried to yank it away, but his grip was surprisingly strong.
“The pose looks good.”
The adults, oblivious to the undercurrent, kept praising how pretty we looked, what a nice picture it made, watching us like we were circus performers. At this point I refused to simply endure. I smiled sweetly and, as if it were nothing, pinched the back of his hand.
“Jun-jae. It’s heavy.”
Yet Cha Jun-jae remained faithful to his camera-ready smile. He suddenly turned his head. The instant I twisted his wrist hard, he finally looked at me. Uncle straightened up; the photo session seemed to be over. We stared each other down for a long moment—until I squeezed his wrist hard enough to leave a bruise.
“You’re pressing on my head.”
It was the malice I had shown him, like a preview of what was coming. I glared, bared my teeth, and shoved the mark on my scalp toward him. A thuggish smile I had never seen before rose to his lips. He ignored my crushed hair entirely and only looked at his own wrist.
“This is the first time I’ve held hands with you.”
“…What?”
“Will you let go?”
It wasn’t that I released him—my hand simply slipped in shock at his words. Only then did the nasty smile disappear from Cha Jun-jae’s face. He lightly rotated his wrist.
“In case you misunderstand, Eun-dam.”
“…Misunderstand what?”
“It’s not because I feel bad. Just……”
I was beginning to dread whatever would come out of his mouth next.
“This kind of thing is better done when it’s just the two of us.”
Cha Jun-jae slipped his hands into his pockets and walked over to Uncle. He touched the camera as if checking the photos. His eyes as he paused midway, staring at the screen, looked unfamiliar. The warmth from when I had gripped his wrist still burned against my palm.
Cha Jun-jae had changed. While I was busy enjoying my vacation, while I kept refusing to meet him—or perhaps ever since the moment we promised to have dinner together.
There had been a shift in Cha Jun-jae’s heart, and I disliked that shift. Today’s knife-wielder was supposed to be me, but the other side’s preparations looked just as formidable.
Cha Jun-jae must have noticed the change in me and prepared something of his own. The question was whether I could truly win against whatever that something was.
“Eun-dam! We’re done with the photos—let’s go see the sea!”
Golden sunlight poured down the alley as if cheering for his victory. I steadied the heart that had nearly crumbled under these trivial incidents. Even if what Cha Jun-jae had prepared was the end of the world, I would not fall. I absolutely would not lose easily.
“Let’s go.”
I would not let it be taken from me. Not ever.