The Unlocked Screen
Eunju didn’t give her answer that day. Minjun downloaded the young men’s photos and left them ready on the laptop so they would appear the moment the screen turned on. The laptop stayed on one side of the dining table for several days. He didn’t close the lid like before, and there was no screen lock. The display remained dark, but a single press of the Enter key would bring their images straight up. Eunju knew Minjun had left it that way on purpose. Still, she pretended not to notice.
In the mornings she cooked, in the afternoons she folded laundry, and in the evenings she chatted with Minjun about nothing in particular. Yet every time she passed the table, the laptop caught the edge of her vision. Her own reflection would glide across the black screen and vanish. Eunju never asked first. Asking would feel like admitting she had been waiting for an answer.
Whenever the laptop chimed with a notification, her eyes darted to it before she quickly looked away and touched her cup as if nothing had happened. Minjun couldn’t possibly miss it. That made her even more embarrassed.
The first night, she didn’t look. On the second day, while Minjun was briefly out, Eunju stood in front of the table. The screen was off. One touch of a finger would wake it. She remained there for a long time. Finally, the tip of her finger brushed the trackpad. The screen lit up. The first young man’s photo appeared again—his youthful face, stiff expression, awkward posture. The tension of a man unused to offering his body first was captured perfectly in the frame. Eunju couldn’t look for long. She left the spot.
That evening, Minjun silently studied the laptop screen. Eunju stood with her back to him, washing dishes. She thought the sound of running water would cover everything, but the tiny noise of him moving the mouse sounded strangely loud. She rinsed the suds from her hands and lingered at the sink longer than necessary. Had he noticed she had looked? Had the image window changed slightly? Had the position of the cursor given her away?
Minjun never asked. That silence embarrassed her more. He knew. And he was choosing to pretend he didn’t.
On the third day she looked longer. Minjun had gone in to shower. The moment the bathroom door closed and the water started running, Eunju sat down at the table. This time her hesitation was brief. After viewing the first photo, she moved straight to the second.
The second man didn’t avoid the camera. His build was a little stronger, and though clearly nervous, he carried a hint of boldness. Most of all, the evidence of his desire for her was not hidden in the image. Eunju didn’t look away. She studied his face, his shoulders, his arms, the uncovered young body. And she examined closely the state he had been in when he stood before the camera thinking of her.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away. This was the first time she had seen another man’s reaction so directly—especially the reaction of a man who wasn’t her husband. The fact that it had surfaced while thinking of her struck her more explicitly than the photo itself. It felt like looking at something she shouldn’t. Yet she couldn’t turn aside.
He imagined me.
The thought made her face burn. As Eunju stared at the young man on the screen, she pictured herself standing in front of him. The shame didn’t stay at the back of her neck; it slowly slid lower. He would be holding the camera. At first he would try to remain polite, but he wouldn’t be able to hide the desire already visible in the photo. She imagined herself gradually undressing before him. Where his hands would stop. From what moment she would no longer be able to lift her face. What expression she would wear if she heard him swallow hard.
It was embarrassing. Yet that embarrassment didn’t fade—it grew sharper.
The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Eunju startled, but she tried not to show it. She slowly lifted her hand from the laptop. A moment later Minjun emerged, drying his hair with a towel. He looked at the screen. The second man’s photo was still open. Eunju lowered her head. Minjun sat down across from her without a word. Only after a long silence did he speak, voice low.
Eunju couldn’t answer. Minjun glanced at the screen, then back at her.
At those words, the corners of Eunju’s eyes grew hot.
After that, the laptop remained unlocked. Eunju no longer peeked at it secretly every time, but the mere knowledge that she could look whenever she wanted changed the air in the house. While wiping the table. While boiling tea. While coming out for water before bed. The laptop was always there. Inside it were two young men who had said they wanted to see her. Men who had imagined her most private places. And now, men who had bared themselves first and were waiting for her judgment.
Eunju didn’t reject them. But she didn’t accept them either. Several days passed in that space between.
On the fourth night, Eunju spoke first. Minjun had the news on in the living room. She stood beside the table. The laptop was still open.
He turned his head.
Eunju couldn’t continue right away. Her fingertips rested lightly on the edge of the table.
Minjun’s eyes deepened slightly. Eunju spoke slowly.
Minjun didn’t answer immediately. Eunju lowered her gaze.
His reply was short. Eunju looked at him.
Minjun nodded.
Eunju’s fingertips tightened slightly.
Minjun thought for a moment.
Eunju listened quietly.
Eunju pictured the scene. The club after-party. A drinking gathering filled with people. Somewhere in that crowd, the two young men would be sitting. And she would be the woman who had already seen their photos. They would know too—that she had looked at their pictures. That they had bared themselves first and placed their judgment in her hands. That they would now be dressed again, facing her among the other members with that knowledge between them.
Eunju’s face quietly flushed. Minjun asked,
Eunju didn’t answer right away. In her mind rose the second man’s photo—the eyes that hadn’t avoided the camera, the desire he couldn’t hide, and the night she had imagined what face she would make in front of him. She slowly nodded.
After a brief pause, she added,
Minjun picked up his phone. Eunju watched him type the message. It was brief.
The photoshoot discussion is not yet on the table. First, let’s meet face-to-face at the after-party for the next regular meeting and spend some time getting to know each other comfortably. We will decide together whether to proceed with an actual shoot after that encounter.
We will mingle with the other members and join your table naturally. Please act as you normally would at the meeting so it doesn’t seem like you were waiting for us from the beginning.
Before sending, Minjun showed the screen to Eunju. She read it slowly.
Minjun sent the message. A reply came shortly after.
Understood, hyungnim. We’ll see you that day. We will be sure to show proper respect to sister-in-law as well.
Eunju stared at the reply for a long time without speaking. We will be sure to show proper respect. She could no longer pretend not to know what lay hidden behind that polite sentence.
Minjun set his phone down.
Eunju lowered her head. It wasn’t a promise to do the photoshoot. But their first meeting had been arranged. The two young men from inside the laptop would now step out into the club after-party.
Eunju looked at the laptop on the table. For days, a single touch had brought up the photos of those young men. The images inside would no longer remain mere photographs. Next time they would be sitting before her eyes. Dressed. Polite. Yet fully aware of what each of them had already seen.
Eunju quietly drew in a breath. It was embarrassing. She still hadn’t given her answer. And yet her body was already waiting for that day.