Personal Tastes
Getting to know someone broadens my own world, uncovering choices I never knew existed. The familiar shell peels away, revealing the pale flesh beneath—something that might leave you startled, or perhaps delighted. For me, it was both. The Cha Jun-jae I thought I knew was someone who ignored me with listless eyes. Yet those same dark pupils, I discovered, had been craving me all along. Unbelievable. It felt like the world flipped upside down every single day.
Even today, still reeling from a similar shock, I sat eating the sweet mangosteen Cha Jun-jae had peeled for me. Or rather, I was eating the mangosteen while staring intently at the jacks.
“Ten years.”
I snatched all five stones out of the air and savored the sweet taste of victory. I was already leading by three years. To reset to the first level, I scattered the five stones across the floor. The set had come with me from Korea. Whenever my thoughts grew tangled, playing jacks emptied my mind in the best way.
But now the stones had been reduced to a tool for our forehead-flick bets. True to rainy season form, the downpour on the island killed any desire for swimming, beach walks, or café visits. So the two of us had turned to something productive instead.
“Freeze.”
The moment I pulled three years ahead, Cha Jun-jae began resorting to sneaky tricks. He had a surprisingly strong competitive streak. To prevent cheating, we sat with our legs stretched out, my calves resting on top of his. The overlapping legs were meant to catch any attempt to nudge the stones with a foot. Yet one of his fingers had just brushed a stone forward. I watched the jack go skittering away like it had been hit by a car and gave a slow nod.
“Forehead.”
One flick for every foul. Cha Jun-jae shrugged, face blank as if he had no idea what I was talking about. In moments like this, the phrase born actor rose to my lips all on its own.
“It wasn’t me, Eun-dam.”
“Stop lying and come here.”
“It moved by itself.”
“Liar.”
Cha Jun-jae smiled shyly and lowered his head. My finger flew toward his forehead. The flick landed with a crisp thwack, but his expression never changed. Only his eyes grew a fraction sharper as they returned to the stones. Feeling the pressure of knowing I absolutely could not lose, I cleared my throat.
“Here I go.”
Maybe it was the intensity of his gaze pressing down on me. Even on the easiest first level, I fumbled and dropped a stone. I stared regretfully at the one that had slipped from my grasp—only for a large hand to sweep in and claim every piece.
The apathetic eyes I once knew were gone. Cha Jun-jae’s hand moved with serious focus. Still, I had a three-year lead. People with big hands were supposed to be bad at jacks. I might not win at everything, but this game was mine.
It was a twenty-year bet. Cha Jun-jae had moved smoothly through levels one through four, then seized five years in a row to reach twelve. Cold sweat broke across my skin. He had suddenly become a jacks master, sweeping the board clean.
I leaned forward, eyes narrowed so I wouldn’t miss even the smallest mistake. But his skill kept climbing, improvement piling on improvement. When he finally claimed the last twenty years, I clapped a hand over my mouth without thinking and stared at him in shock.
“Twenty years.”
He showed me the captured stones and smiled faintly. Mastering the game in under five minutes—I felt another surge of jealousy.
“You get hit once for that?”
If I had known it would come to this, I never would have suggested jacks. I had only wanted to tease him fairly, and now I was facing serious payback. Still, a promise was a promise. I presented my forehead, trembling.
“Don’t hold back. Let’s keep this fair and square… Ah!”
The moment I sensed his finger approaching, a scream tore out of me. Guys with big fingers hit hard. Remembering the sting of boys’ knuckles from my school days, I squeezed my eyes shut. I could only imagine how vicious Cha Jun-jae’s revenge flick would be after he had trained himself out of pure spite. Yet no matter how long I waited, the blow never came. I cracked one eye open.
Soft as a spring breeze, his lips brushed my forehead. The touch was so sweet and plush that I barely registered it as a kiss. If I hadn’t peeked, I would never have known. In an entirely different sense, my forehead burned. I pressed a hand to it. He had already slipped back into that listless expression and was reaching for his cigarette pack out of habit.
“No.”
The more I watched him, the clearer his daily patterns became. Without me, he probably wouldn’t eat. He would lie in bed all day reading scripts and chain-smoking. As if that were the only unacceptable option, he dragged his toe along my calf in a slow, suggestive stroke. When I shivered at the strange sensation, he even laughed.
“Find a different hobby. Something wholesome.”
“Spying on Dambi’s phone.”
“Something wholesome.”
“Watching movies with Dambi.”
“Something wholesome!”
“If that’s not wholesome… then what is?”
His voice was indifferent, yet he sounded genuinely curious. I crossed my arms and scooted closer, practically pushing my hips toward him.
“You like coffee. So whenever you want to smoke, drink coffee instead.”
“Do I like coffee?”
The dry question made me shake my head in disbelief.
“You do. You brew it and drink it every morning.”
“That’s just habit…”
“Habit is preference. Anyone who repeats something they hate every single day is the real pervert.”
Pure, clueless Cha Jun-jae had lived without ever knowing what he liked. He had not lived a short life, yet he didn’t even realize he enjoyed coffee—something I had noticed after only a few days.
“You really didn’t know? What else don’t you know? Jjajangmyeon or jjamppong?”
“…The one that comes faster.”
“Ha.”
I had only wanted to play the trendy preference game everyone was doing lately. Questions others would laugh off, Cha Jun-jae answered meaninglessly or without enthusiasm. Sometimes his replies took so long I grew tired of waiting. What fascinated me was his reaction—the way he seemed puzzled why I would even ask, and equally fascinated by the act of learning about himself.
“Then what about before? You know, when you went on that show and listed your hobbies as watching baseball, swimming—all of that. What was it?”
“The agency president said it was good for my image lately. Throwing out the first pitch, that sort of thing.”
Hearing him speak about himself as if he were a stranger left me even more lost. I hadn’t paid close attention, but I did know which baseball team he supported.
“Sw-swimming. That one was real.”
Because we had gone to the same pool. My love of snorkeling and the skill I had developed both came largely from those youth swimming lessons. The child who won the swimming competition held there had been Cha Jun-jae.
“Mother said it would be good to learn.”
“Unbelievable.”
It meant he had lived like a puppet, without a single desire of his own. Cha Jun-jae silently passed me the cigarette pack. Then he leaned his head back against the sofa armrest and lay down. While I, an outsider, reflected on the shape of his life, his lowered gaze suddenly caught me and I flinched.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s the first time I’ve told you any of this.”
Of course it was. Everyone had their own ideas about Cha Jun-jae, but the details always differed. Only I knew his true self. Thinking it alone and hearing it from his own mouth were entirely different experiences. The same thrilling sensation that had tickled my toes on the day he admitted he liked me returned. With just a few words, I felt as if I possessed him.
“So be good to me. Before I start spreading rumors.”
“Okay.”
Having answered that he would be good to me, Cha Jun-jae lay down using his arm as a pillow, as if sleepy. The sound of rain, the humid air, and the beautiful man beside me all came together.
This, right now, felt like my first true vacation.
“Does smoking one of these clear your head?”
I shook the cigarette pack at him. He answered in a voice heavy with drowsiness.
“Probably.”
“If it’s not definitely helpful and only ‘probably,’ then it’s better not to have them at all.”
Having decided cleanly, I shoved the pack behind me with a whoosh. Instead of protesting the loss of his belongings, Cha Jun-jae’s smile grew brighter, almost happy. There were still moments when I understood him and moments when I didn’t, but one thing was perfectly clear. If you want to love someone, the process of learning about them seems absolutely necessary. Erasing the image I once held and filling it with new knowledge.
That is how I come to welcome a new Cha Jun-jae.