Core Memory
I checked the photo again. My face looked like a steamed bun, while Cha Jun-jae was, as always, impossibly handsome. Anyone would call it a ruined shot. I kept trying to delete it, but every single time, it got caught in Cha Jun-jae’s radar.
“Put it down, Eun-dam.”
I set the phone I’d been secretly trying to swipe back on the table. The guy had terrifying senses. This was Cha Jun-jae’s second request: to sit with him in a scenic café in broad daylight and chatter away without restraint. He’d even added the absurd condition that I should act like a high-school girl. Unlike the relatively easy first request of taking a photo, this one came with several obstacles.
The biggest hurdle was that nearly ten years had passed since we’d graduated from high school. It wasn’t for nothing that people said even the sight of rolling autumn leaves could make them laugh like schoolgirls. Once we’d stepped beyond the school fence and tasted the real world, we were no longer as pure or ignorant as we’d been back then. Growing up and aging sometimes hardens people. And we, who had already become as hardened as reality allowed, who hadn’t exactly been clueless even in high school, could hardly chatter like bubbly high-school girls again. That was nothing but Cha Jun-jae’s greed.
Worried someone might recognize his face, he wore a baseball cap pulled low. We were sipping coffee we’d bought to go, sitting by the beautiful seaside. I glanced at him while taking small sips. For someone who’d asked for high-school-girl chatter, he was awfully quiet. It didn’t seem like he was in a bad mood, though. The deep eyes visible beneath the cap looked perfectly content, as if simply gazing at the sea was enough to satisfy him.
I sucked down the sweet latte and began my observation. It wasn’t as if I’d created the three-colored sea, yet he wore an expression of deep satisfaction, like he was the proud creator of Dalos Island itself. I hummed a little tune to distract him and slowly inched my hand toward the phone that had fallen beside me. No matter how I looked at it, those pictures didn’t deserve to live. But Cha Jun-jae, who hadn’t even turned his head in my direction, spoke again.
“Don’t touch it, Eun-dam.”
He was talking to me like I was a dog he was training. Irritation flared, and I sucked harder on the straw. It looked like today’s security level was too high; phone theft would be impossible.
“You said you wanted to chatter like a high-school girl. You said you wanted to try it.”
“Yeah.”
“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”
Only then did Cha Jun-jae look at me and give a faint smile.
“Don’t delete the photo. Okay?”
“Let’s take another one.”
“I like this one.”
“I’ll take a better one for you.”
“Sorry, but… I like this one.”
Sluuuuurp. The straw let out a desperate squeal because there was nothing left to drink. I smacked my lips at the bitter aftertaste. Maybe it was the heat—everything was annoying me.
“Fine, then. But don’t post it anywhere. Keep it. Like a treasure.”
“That’s what I plan to do.”
The way he answered without a moment’s hesitation made me want to scream. He took photo shoots for magazines all the time. Why was he so fixated on one poorly taken picture? When my dissatisfaction refused to fade, Cha Jun-jae dropped his straw into his own coffee with a plop. Then he held out the cup, claiming he hadn’t drunk much.
“You drink it, Eun-dam.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were staring at it like you wanted to steal it.”
His characteristically slow, relaxed tone somehow grated on my nerves, but I swallowed my temper.
“We took the photo, we drank coffee while looking at the sea. Are you satisfied now?”
Honestly, I had expected the things he wanted to be darker, more sticky. I was the one surprised by how wholesome Cha Jun-jae’s desires actually were. He shook his head with a gentle smile, as if to say it was nowhere near enough.
“Not yet.”
Of course not. Looking at him, ready to wring every last drop out of this, my mouth should have tasted bitter. But when his requests were things like drinking coffee or chatting, the next favor didn’t seem too difficult.
It was time to suggest we get up, buy ingredients for dinner, and head back. Cha Jun-jae, who had opened his phone, was staring endlessly at the photo we’d just taken. Wondering why he was so fixated on such an ordinary picture, I leaned in to look too. Even on second glance, it really was badly taken. I sucked on the empty straw again for no reason.
“I’m going to delete it secretly while you’re sleeping.”
It was half joke, half threat, but Cha Jun-jae turned serious, his gaze freezing over. His expression grew so dark that I started to worry whether my words had been that bad. Before I could awkwardly backtrack and say I was only joking, his dry lips parted.
“You know…”
“Yeah?”
“If you delete this, you’ll have to give me something much bigger in return.”
“…Me? Why?”
“This might be my core memory… Eun-dam.”
Core memory. I tried to decipher his words with a puzzled look but failed. What was this sudden talk about earthworms jumping?
“Did I… did I hear that wrong?”
“Core memory.”
“What is that?”
Cha Jun-jae took a sip of his latte, which was as soft as he was.
“One day, I felt like I was suffocating… so I went to see a movie alone at night. Any movie. There was this thing called a core memory that made up the main character. She accidentally lost it and became emotionless, then made choices she shouldn’t have. That kind of movie.”
“…And?”
“I watched it so I wouldn’t feel sad, so I wouldn’t think about things. But it made me even sadder.”
“……”
“I wondered what my own core memory might be. Whether I even had one.”
“…You don’t?”
“Yeah. It was depressing. So I tried to forget it, but strangely, I couldn’t.”
Setting aside the fact that Cha Jun-jae had this sentimental side, I couldn’t fully trust what he was saying. How could someone like him not have such a memory?
Cha Jun-jae waved the phone in front of my sullen face. It was the photo of me being kissed in front of the villa fence.
“This is the first one I’ve ever had. You can’t delete it, Eun-dam.”
I understood what he was saying. But I still found it hard to trust Cha Jun-jae. As if he knew exactly what my eyes were saying, he gathered the coffee cups and stood up.
“Third request. Grocery shopping with you.”
Because he called it a wish and held out his hand, I didn’t even have time to hesitate. I grabbed his hand roughly and stood beside him. His stride toward the supermarket, as if he were a resident of Dalos Island, was confident and unhurried.
He was definitely more energetic and smiled more than usual. I unconsciously squeezed the hand of Cha Jun-jae, who claimed it was all because of me. Then the man walking ahead paused and asked,
“Does your hand hurt?”
What was he talking about? He was holding mine with the lightest possible touch. A playful impulse suddenly rose in me, and I tilted my head with an innocent expression.
“Why are you holding my hand?”
“Because it’s hot…”
Cha Jun-jae, who had trailed off, seemed to realize how strange his own words sounded. He pulled his cap down lower and laughed. Wearing that soft smile that made other people melt, he said,
“Tell me if your hand gets sweaty.”
“Then you’ll let go?”
“No. I’ll just switch to the other hand.”
The sheer ridiculousness of it made me burst out laughing. With our hands still linked, we laughed in opposite directions as if trying to hide our embarrassment. Even after we finally entered the supermarket to shop, our hands stayed connected.
We bought bell peppers, potatoes, tomato sauce, and enough ingredients to last for months before leaving the store. The sunlight was still lovely on the way out. I wanted to go night swimming today. It was such a good day that I felt like the scenario would flow smoothly. Who would have thought the idea of filming a movie soon could make my heart flutter? Just a few weeks ago, I hadn’t even wanted to think about the word “movie.”
Without realizing it, we had started holding hands. I was thinking about the film, and he was thinking about something else. Then, as we neared the villa, Cha Jun-jae spoke.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this.”
“What?”
Around that time, the heat had gotten to me, and I was rummaging through the plastic bag looking for an ice cream. Cha Jun-jae, who had stopped in front of a resort wall, smiled brightly.
“Memories like this.”
My hand touching the ice cream felt cool. Even my heart, which had been whining about the heat, felt refreshed, like it was breathing in a cool breeze. His short-lived smile left behind a lingering chill that seemed to drive away the summer.
Like a cool ice cream on a sweltering day.