Lee XX's Confession: Part One
Today, as always, Father Kim's confessions proceeded without fail.
Wearing his purple stole, Father Kim settled into his seat with a solemn expression.
On the other side of the confessional, a young man entered, knelt, and made the sign of the cross.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
Father Kim's gentle, soothing voice drifted through the fine wire mesh.
"As God sheds light upon our hearts, place your trust firmly in His mercy, and confess the sins you have committed."
"Amen. This is my first confession. Father, I have broken the Sixth Commandment. I entered into an improper relationship with my friend's mother."
"My child, confess your sins in greater detail. God is prepared to hear whatever you have to say."
The young man beyond the mesh hesitated a moment, then let out a deep sigh and finally forced himself to speak.
"Well..."
His voice quietly filled the confessional. Father Kim closed his eyes in silence.
I have a friend who means as much to me as my own life.
Ju Cheol-hwan. Twenty-two years old.
Cheol-hwan and I grew up in the same neighborhood from the time we were little. Our parents knew each other well. We were the real deal — inseparable since childhood.
Unlike me, who was thoroughly ordinary, Cheol-hwan was good-looking and a strong student, so he'd been popular for as long as anyone could remember.
People say it can be exhausting when your closest friend is so much better than you at everything — always getting compared, always coming up short. But I never felt that kind of stress, not once in my whole life.
Everything I had, I owed to Cheol-hwan.
He excelled at whatever he tried without seeming to break a sweat, and he was always humble about it. I never once saw him strut or put on airs.
"It's all just luck, you know?"
That was the line Cheol-hwan always had ready. Even when he got into medical school with outstanding scores, he said the exact same thing.
I had barely scraped into a no-name university, but I didn't feel a shred of jealousy or envy. I knew how hard he worked behind the scenes to achieve anything, and that quiet humility of his was something I genuinely admired.
Still, separate from his modesty, there was some truth to what he said about luck. Being born with a gold spoon in his mouth meant "lucky" wasn't entirely wrong.
Cheol-hwan's father was the director of a plastic surgery clinic in Gangnam, and his mother was a successful entrepreneur in the skincare business. They came from a completely different world than my own parents, who were ordinary office workers.
And Cheol-hwan's mother, in particular, was someone truly special.
Yu Hye-ri. Forty-two years old.
I still remember the day she came to our school for a parents' meeting when we were kids. The whole place went into an uproar. The boys swarmed over like some celebrity had shown up, just to get a look at Cheol-hwan's mom.
And no wonder — she was genuinely beautiful.
I even remember what she was wearing that day: a white two-piece suit, black stockings, and bright red high heels. It was the classic look of a wealthy Gangnam madam, and yet there was something sultry about her, something that clung to the eye.
Looking back, it must have been her figure. She'd chosen the most respectable outfit she could, but there was no hiding a body like that.
Click. Click. Click.
I can still see her from behind, walking down the school hallway in those heels. That full, ripe rear swaying left and right with every step. Every boy in the corridor had his neck craned out the windows, stealing glances at Cheol-hwan's mother.
I wanted to look just as badly, but I forced myself not to. I was too busy watching Cheol-hwan's face.
He always hated it when his mother became eye candy for other men. He'd been dealing with it since he was small because of how striking she looked, but it was never something he got used to.
His mother, on the other hand, wasn't the type to mind men's stares. If anything, she seemed to enjoy the sticky weight of their eyes on her.
Look all you want. You'll never have me in this lifetime.
That sheer confidence and self-assurance made men keep their distance from her. There was something else special about Cheol-hwan's mother, too: she looked at least ten years younger than the other moms. At a glance she could pass for late twenties — the kind of baby face that made it impossible to believe she was a parent at a school meeting.
In truth, she didn't just look young. She was young. She'd married at twenty and had Cheol-hwan right away, so compared to the other mothers she was almost absurdly young.
That didn't mean the other parents shut her out or that she failed to fit in. Her straightforward, bold personality made people gravitate toward her.
In a word, she was every man's ideal. I can't think of a better way to describe Cheol-hwan's mother. And of course, she fit the ideal woman I had always dreamed of as well.
Naturally, she became my first love.
This is a little awkward to say, but my first experience — strictly speaking, the memory of my first ejaculation — was also connected to Cheol-hwan's mother.
It was another one of those days after school when I'd gone over to his house to hang out.
"One game before we do homework?"
I was always the one luring the model student Cheol-hwan off the path.
"Mom'll kill me if she finds out."
"What are you talking about? You said she's out drinking with work tonight and coming home late."
"Yeah, but I promised her I wouldn't game today."
"You idiot. Just keep it a secret from her. Don't you ever lie to your mom?"
"Why would I lie? I've never lied to her once."
"Wow. Kid, I actually respect you. Fine — try it once today."
"Try what?"
"Lying. Trust your big bro and just close your eyes and do it. The first time's the hard part. After that it's easy."
Cheol-hwan fell for it and, for the first time in his life, lied to his mother and played games.
Some people might say a lie is no big deal, but that only means they don't know Cheol-hwan. To him, his mother was practically a divine being. She wasn't just the woman who gave birth to him — she was the person he respected most in the world. So that day's lie was, for him, a real act of rebellion.
We lost track of time gaming, and when we finally came to our senses it was well past ten at night.
"It's already this late. Mind if I just crash here?"
I'd stayed over at Cheol-hwan's house all the time since we were little, so I said it without thinking.
"Yeah, sure."
"Hey, aren't we gonna do homework?"
"Homework, my ass. One more game."
"Ooh, Ju Cheol-hwan's getting bold. Want me to rat you out to your mom?"
"Ah, whatever. Let's just mess around today."
That night Cheol-hwan looked happier than he had in a long time. Seeing a side of him that was usually so composed made me get fired up right along with him. We horsed around giggling late into the night and fell asleep right there.
I don't remember exactly what time it was. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up thirsty and went out to the living room for water.
Just then the front door opened and someone came into the house. The entryway light clicked on, and there she was — Cheol-hwan's mother.
"Welco—"
To this day I don't know exactly why I stopped myself from greeting her. It just felt like I'd been caught doing something wrong.
She was clearly drunk, swaying as she started to pull off her high heels one at a time. I just stood there in the living room, frozen, not knowing what to do with myself.
She was wearing a skirt that came down to her knees, but the side slit was cut so deep it nearly reached her hip. Every time she moved her legs, her firm, full thighs, wrapped in coffee-colored stockings, were fully on display.
I'd thought her legs were pretty plenty of times before, but that night felt different. Stickier, somehow. I was still a kid who didn't know anything, but I think that was the first time I ever wanted to touch a woman's legs.
With both heels off, she staggered toward the living room. I was still standing there like a post, watching her. Then, walking in a zigzag, she suddenly toppled flat onto the floor.
"Are you all right?"
Startled, I hurried over and helped her up.
"...Mmm?"
Drunk, she cracked her eyes open into slits and looked up at me.
It was the first time I'd ever seen her face from that close. Her hair was a mess from drinking all night, and her eye makeup was a little smudged, but she was still so beautiful. And that strange, soft scent rising off her — alcohol mixed with perfume — filled my head.
I must have stared at her face for a long time, completely blank, until her voice snapped me out of it.
"Oh? Honey, what are you doing up?"
Honey?
All of a sudden she was calling me "honey," smiling with her eyes.
"Uh... well..."
I was so flustered I couldn't get a word out. As I stood there stammering, she spoke again.
"My honey stayed up worrying about me, didn't he?"
And then she wrapped both arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.
What the hell was going on??
I clung to her in confusion, with no idea what any of this meant — until it hit me who she would actually call "honey."
It was Cheol-hwan's father. She always called her husband "honey" in that affectionate way.
If my guess was right, then this woman, completely wasted, was clearly mistaking me for her husband.