The Request in Countless Gazes
It was an ordinary morning.
As always, I showered, ate, got dressed, and reached for my mask—only to set it quietly back down.
The world had finally become a place where I could breathe unfiltered oxygen. I was humming under my breath, about to step out the front door, when it happened.
"……?"
It felt like walking through a spiderweb. I waved my arms this way and that, but nothing caught on them.
Just my imagination?
Scratching an itchy cheek, I stepped out of my building. Of course I had nowhere to go. This crisp morning sunlight, this unhurried pace—I hadn't felt either in a very long time. A morning so full of human warmth, so vigorous and strong, was genuinely refreshing.
So this is the life of the unemployed. Not half bad.
The moment COVID ended, the senior from school who had founded the startup with me—our CEO—had taken the company's investment money and vanished. Everyone worried over me and comforted one another, but honestly I wasn't all that sad, or even angry. For the past two years both my body and my mind had been completely spent. Most people working in IT were probably the same.
If anything, I was a little grateful to hear there were still enough assets left to cover severance and unemployment benefits. The investment firm whose funds had been stolen acquired the company and let us go in the form of recommended resignations, on the condition that they bought out every employee's share of the patents. A kind of consideration. It was only possible because we had been a tiny company of fewer than ten to begin with. That senior must have seen all of this coming when he stabbed us in the back.
The weather's nice, too.
For the first time in ages, I meant to indulge an old hobby: a city-bus tour. Board whatever came along and ride it to the last stop. A small pastime I used to fall into as a student whenever I felt stifled. I had wanted to travel, but I had never had the leisure for it. And there was nothing better for emptying your head of every thought.
……?
The strange feeling hit the moment I reached the street. Something was different from usual.
I couldn't put a clean name to what it was. Only that the air itself felt off.
……What is this?
Scratching my cheek, I headed for my regular Coffee House.
"Welcome. Oh—welcome."
"……Hello."
There it was again. The same sensation I had felt out on the street. Wondering what on earth it was, I turned my head, and the two women sitting at the tea table immediately looked away.
If locking eyes makes you flinch that hard, even I'd get my feelings hurt.
A small crack ran through the pleasant morning, but dwelling on it wasn't going to heal anything.
"Large americano?"
"Yes. Iced, please."
"I know. Seeing you in the morning like this is so nice."
"Maybe I should have quit sooner. Now I get to stand here and chat with you."
"Oh, I'd like that. Want to hang around longer today, then?"
The owner and I had always gotten along. She was quite a beauty, and as far as I knew she was something of a neighborhood celebrity. Come afternoon the place would be packed with middle-aged men. Once, back then, I had even taken a shoulder-check.
"I wouldn't want to get in the way of business, though. Those uncles still coming around?"
"……? What uncles?"
"Huh?"
She tilted her head and turned the question back on me. Now that she mentioned it, the uncle-fans who usually started appearing around this hour were nowhere to be seen. If anything, the cafe was quiet. Well, days like this happened. Those men did have jobs, after all. Then the owner spoke to me.
"I thought you'd be worn out, but you look good. Especially today—you look unusually handsome."
"You look especially pretty today, too. The makeup suits you."
"Did you really have to tack that on?"
Even so, her face did look different today. Something about it gleamed, a sheen running over her skin.
She had always been pretty, but today her face looked unusually clear.
"I mean it. Something about you is different today. You're so transparent I could see all the syrups through you. Did you change your cosmetics?"
"……Oh my, really? Does it show?"
"Yes. Don't tell me you're dating someone and leaving me behind."
"Oh, come on. No. But I still look all right, don't I?"
"Of course. Walk out with me and people would think you were my little sister."
"Oh, you. Shinwoo."
She cupped her cheeks and looked at me as if embarrassed. It was different from her usual friendliness. Her eyes seemed a little wetter. Softer, too.
Is something wrong with me? Am I coming down with something?
Maybe the stress of quitting had caught up with me without my noticing. Or maybe it was just that I had slept properly for the first time in ages.
Then I saw something tucked into the coffee carrier she handed me. A little bag of candy.
"Candy. Have a good day today, too. Cheer up."
"Thank you. You know I like you, right?"
Somewhere in the cafe a chair scraped, but there was no need to look.
"……A man shouldn't go around spilling lines like that."
The nuance was a little odd, but I didn't suspect anything. I answered the way I always did, playfully.
"Only because it's you. I'm an expensive man. It's just that nobody ever checks the price tag."
"Oh, Shinwoo. So modest."
"Thank you. Have a good day, then."
"Sure. Come again."
After a long, trivial chat with the owner, I stepped outside with my coffee and candy—and only then understood the strange sensation that had been following me.
……What? Why is everyone looking at me?
The moment I hit the street, every passing woman's gaze stuck to me. Women covering their mouths to whisper to their companions, and the companions themselves. The women standing at the bus stop, every one of them looking my way. The ones who jerked their eyes away the instant we met were women, and the ones who, meeting my eyes, only gazed back more steadily were women too.
Don't tell me it's open.
Turning slightly, I brushed my left hand past the area below my navel—the skill every man possessed. But the zipper wasn't undone. Wondering if something was on my face, I caught my reflection in the cafe window.
Inside, a woman who had been watching me startled when our eyes met and turned her head. Come to think of it, we had locked eyes when I went in, too. I held my face to the glass again and turned it this way and that, but it was still the most ordinary face imaginable.
……What is this. I'm kind of scared.
If you took the word ordinary and swapped it for a person, I was the only one who would come to mind. Thanks to parents who had gifted me decent skin, my complexion was on the good side, and by a bit of luck my academic background was passable. That was all.
I think I knew why I hadn't sensed the strangeness right away. I had never received looks like these before. These countless handshakes—no. These gazes felt deeply strange. As if they expected something of me. Wanted something from me. As if I had been tossed alone onto a stage that was supposed to crown the climax of a performance.
……Ignore them. Ignore them.
I deliberately looked away and walked on, slow. But all the way down the street the women's stares prickled until I thought I might break out in hives. If they had been nothing but disgust, I might actually have stayed calm. Receiving this many looks mixed with interest was a first in my life. And those looks weren't aimed only at me.
"……Please stop. I have to get to work."
"You're waiting for the bus anyway. I just want to talk. You're playing way too hard to get."
"This is annoying. Aren't you embarrassed, doing this first thing in the morning?"
"Not at all. Then just give me your Instagram and I won't bother you."
"I already told you you're not my type."
"Come on, talk with me a little more and then decide. That's fine, isn't it?"
"Ha, seriously. If you're that desperate, go beg in Tapgol Park. Stop bothering me."
"Hey. Even I wouldn't stoop to hanging out with the grandpas there."
While I waited for the bus I stood there blankly, straw in my mouth, watching what unfolded right in front of me. A plump, cute-looking woman who seemed about college age was talking with a neat middle-aged office worker in a suit. On its own, if I bent over backward, I could allow that such a thing might happen. But there was a reason it caught the eye.
If it were the other way around, maybe. That would be a problem too, if we're calling it a problem.
The one asking for contact information was the woman. And the middle-aged man's tone was harsh enough to sting. There was no swearing, but the insults were uncomfortable even for me to hear. Still, the young student's face was utterly unbothered, so stepping in felt awkward. She didn't even look particularly offended. She answered with a straight face, as if that man's manner were a perfectly natural, everyday reaction.
……Am I still half asleep?
A rather cute college girl demanding a middle-aged man's number was an awkward sight no matter how I looked at it. I had only ever heard of Reverse Hunting in passing. This was something rare. And yet the eyes around us weren't reproaching the girl. They were fixed on the man.
Those eyes were that kind of eyes. Eyes calculating the exact moment at which rescuing that man would make someone look the coolest. I could smell the jackals. As the conversation grew more heated, I did wonder whether I ought to step in and stop it. But if I got involved, I would probably have to take all those gazes on myself.
There was something else strange, too. Of the twenty or so people gathered at this stop waiting for the bus, the only men were that man and me.
Weird. I barely see any men.
"Where are you headed?"
Just then a lovely voice sounded beside me. I turned without thinking and startled. The man and the college girl vanished from my attention in an instant.
"……Not sure. I'm still deciding."
"What's that supposed to mean. That's funny."
I had no idea what was funny about it, but my mouth fell open on its own at the beauty of the woman who laughed, a soft breath of air. Clean, pale skin and light makeup; a jawline that looked carved; a long line of neck without a wrinkle, without a single blemish. Lips blooming like a red flower on a field of snow, and the white, moist-looking fingers covering the corner of her mouth.
There wasn't a trace of anything artificial about her, and that only made her beauty harder to believe. You could have taken a single photo, printed it huge, and hung it in a frame, and it still wouldn't have looked out of place as decor.
"Are you on your way to work?"
When I asked, she looked flustered instead and pointed those slender fingers at herself. I could feel several people nearby turning to look at us. I wanted to tell them not to stare, that I had only asked without thinking, but under all those eyes I couldn't find the courage. I forced myself to ignore where the gazes were coming from and fixed my own on the flustered woman.
"……I didn't think you'd ask."
"……Did I mess up?"
"Ah—no. I'm on my way to school."
"Ah, a college student. Must be nice."
"What's nice about it? Lessons—no. The makeup classes wore me out. I had to work a part-time job all through break, too."
"Oh, right. It's still vacation, isn't it."
"Yes. Almost over, though. I didn't even get to travel anywhere."
Even the way she grumbled and pouted was cute. And absurdly, she reacted to every single thing I said. It had been years since a woman received me this well. Well—excluding the cafe owner, since we had known each other forever.
"Ah."
At that moment her face darkened at the sight of the blue bus drawing near. Even that was dazzlingly pretty. Ah. So this was youth.
"Have a good day. Hang in there in class."
"Thank you. Um, so……."
As the bus drew closer she fidgeted with her hands, looking nervous. And what she held in both of them was a smartphone.
"D-do you use Instagram?"
"Ah, I don't really do social media."
"……Ah. I see……."
She stopped fidgeting, looking disappointed. I almost apologized for not having any. At the sight of her I scratched my cheek and hesitated.
Or what if I just…? If I'm wrong, that's another night of kicking the blankets.
Something about today was off, so for once I wanted to simply throw it out there.
"……If a number's all right."
"……Ah! Really?"
Color rushed into her beautiful face all at once, and even I felt better for it. Hard to believe, but it was actually happening. It was unreal.
"H-here."
"All right."
The bus had already pulled in and stopped, and she hurriedly held out her phone. I tapped my number in just as quickly, and by then her cheeks had flushed peach as she climbed aboard and waved.
"I'll contact you!"
"……Okay."
I waved back, still. Somewhere along the way I realized the corner of my mouth had lifted. I reached up with a finger and tugged it back down. Half of it was a flutter. The other half was closer to a dad smile.