Male Support Fund (1)
"Whoa... fucking strong and goddamn tough morning!"
I stretched and got out of bed. No back pain, no headache. After five years of homelessness clinging to those ailments like old friends, one good night's sleep wiped them clean. Sleep really is the best medicine. Feeling lighter than air, I got up and plopped down at the desk.
"Ah... thirsty as hell."
There was a mini-fridge inside, so I grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it.
"Aah... shit, I'm alive."
Quenched and sorted my messy hair real quick. If every day could be like this, I'd be set. Lost in that happy buzz, I remembered the goshiwon provided instant ramen in the communal kitchen. Morning hunger kicking in—might as well boil some up.
I eased out of my chair toward the kitchen.
Knock knock.
"Huh?"
A knock from the other side of the door. I jolted, hand on the knob—then Jung-ah's warning flashed back: don't open the door carelessly without checking. Almost blew it like always.
"Who's there?"
"Oppa, it's me! Jung-ah! Got something for you—can you open up?"
"Yeah... hold on."
Confirmed it was her, unlocked the door, and swung it open. There she stood.
"C'mon in."
"Huh? I can come inside?"
"You gonna hover out there forever?"
"Oh... no, coming in!"
Did I fuck up again? Now her freaking out makes me second-guess everything. She said my normal shit comes off weird to them. Gotta be careful, but man, this is exhausting.
I sat her at the desk. And... nothing. Why's she so quiet? She said she had something to give when she was outside. Is she messing with me?
I stared her down, waiting for whatever.
"Oh! Uh, hang on!"
"Take your time, no rush."
"Here! 100,000 won!"
"Ah, that was the urgent thing."
Figured it was no big deal, but nope—it was the cash she'd promised for helping with her stream. Money's always urgent, yeah.
"Got it. Hit me up anytime."
"Wait, I can call you again?"
"Hell yeah! Cash talks, I'll do anything!"
Reminded me of that line from Scumbag Chef—the skewer boss guy's wisdom: money's always right. Long as it ain't selling my soul, I'm game.
Figured that was it, but...
"Um... got one more thing. It's just..."
She rummaged in her pocket. Grrrrowl.
"Sorry, that was me."
"Oh... you haven't had breakfast?"
"Nah, was gonna grab ramen out there. Join if you haven't eaten."
"Really? That's okay?"
"They give one per person, but I can boil two. Win-win."
I half-dragged her along. Better than eating alone, right?
Heading to the goshiwon's communal kitchen for ramen.
"O-oppa? Let me cook it—you sit and relax."
"Tch! Stay put! You couldn't nail this taste."
Water in the pot, on the stove. She offered to cook, but I shut that down. She hasn't tried the construction site edition yet—that's why. Back at my old job, this guy Gwak made killer ramen for lunch breaks. Haven't forgotten that flavor. Day before I got canned, I begged that uncle for the recipe. Finally got it, but homeless life meant no stove, no pot.
But here? Fire, pots, and free ramen. Time to test it.
Water in, then—before it boils—dump the seasoning first. Uncle said it keeps the noodles from soaking up too much water, turning the broth starchy. Honestly, just my taste—order don't matter much.
Noodles half-done, crack an egg, chop some green onion on top. Onions were communal, no names on 'em, so whatever. Got cash now—buy more later.
When noodles hit that sweet spot between chewy and soft, splash in sesame oil and vinegar. Heard the vinegar boils off the edge and adds a sweet kick. Killer.
"Plates ready!"
"Got it!"
Pot on the stand. Scooped into bowls, shoveled it in—the chilly kitchen warmed me right up.
"Good, right?"
"Yeah! Way better than plain boil-up."
Luckily hit her taste buds. We demolished it in ten, chatted a bit.
"You said you had something else before ramen?"
"Oh, right!"
Wasn't urgent, so food first. Now...
"Thought you might need this, oppa. Take it?"
"Huh... a phone?"
Smartphone. Not brand-new, but three years old—cutting-edge to me.
"This yours? You sure you can give it?"
"Nah! Air device, was gonna sell on the secondhand site anyway. Figured you could use it."
"Still... feels wrong taking it."
"It's fine! I wanted to give it."
Head down in guilt, but she waved it off.
"But... no SIM."
"Huh?"
"Gotta activate it somewhere."
"Oh..."
She let out a little gasp. Shit, now I feel bad.
At the smartphone shop for activation. Jung-ah's recommendation—cheap prepaid SIM spot.
"I'll handle it, oppa—just wait here."
"Uh, yeah... thanks."
We approached the counter with the saleswoman. Young lady asked if we needed help.
"Sis, my oppa wants a cheap prepaid plan—got anything good?"
"Sure, we have... wait, oppa?"
"Yeah?"
"For real? Like, actual guy?"
"Uh, yeah?"
She stared holes through my face, scanned me top to bottom.
"Whoa—real dude! First one I've seen up close."
Full-body scan, then she wobbled back like fainting.
"N-no... Jung-ah? Boyfriend?"
"Not yet."
"Ah... not yet?"
Chatting like old pals—didn't wanna intrude, so I spectated quietly.
With her help, we got the prepaid SIM slotted in. She offered to cover the first month. My account's frozen, can't auto-pay, so she fronts, I cash her back. She said it's cool, but I hate owing—insisted on paying now.
Smartphone... that thing I'd craved, now in my hands. Anxiety melting away, depression meds right here. Prepaid means light use off Wi-Fi, but hey—phone's a phone.
"Jung-ah, thanks. I'll pay you back, promise."
"No worries! I wanted to."
World's got saints like her? Thanks to her, I'm connected. Time to head back—but she called out.
"Oppa, wanna hang out a bit if you're free?"
"Huh? Uh... sure."
She grabbed me before goshiwon-bound, suggested strolling. I'd mostly roamed nights since arriving—days were shelter hunts and begging. Good chance to scout daytime, so off we went.
We wandered downtown, dodging crowds. Daytime meant eyes on us anyway.
"Whoa, guy's real?"
"Look at that build—twice my boyfriend's size?"
"Heh!"
"Jung-ah?"
Every stare, her lips curled up. Arm-in-arm "protecting" me—I didn't mind the contact, so we rolled on.
Short walk to her spot, but...
"Hold up."
"Huh? Why?"
I ripped a flyer off the utility pole.
Strong Woman! Strong Heart! XX Construction!
Construction company number. Day labor gig.
Apps are fine, but boots-on-ground hunting matters too.
"Oppa... you work?"
"Yeah, gotta dodge crowds like you said, but cash don't earn itself."
She tilted her head, puzzled.
Why? No money, no life. That's why I ended up begging.
She stared long, then spoke.
"Oppa... just curious, but why no Male Support Fund?"
"What?"
Support fund? What?
"You're a guy, right? That means you qualify—no need to scrape by. Seeing you job-hunt, figured you don't."
......
Fuck, it was real. Males are rare, so maybe a stipend? Thought it, but damn—exists.
"Jung-ah... sorry, district office detour?"
"Huh?"
"Gotta check this fund."
Reason to grind vanished in a blink.