Bridling the Wild Foal (2)

"A part-time job? Yeah, I should really get around to finding one…"

"Same here. Living on my own, the money just drains out of me."

"Mm-hm, everyone's like that the first time they move out. That's why I've been living on spaghetti every morning lately. It's cheap and the nutrition's not bad."

The moment the sponge soaked with water drank up their responses, my senior's eyes slid naturally toward me.

"Come to think of it, Seonghyun, you said you were tutoring, right? What are you up to these days?"

An awkward intonation, like someone reading off a script, paired with a deliberately exaggerated expression. My eyes nearly squeezed shut for a second there—but it was, without a doubt, a pretty good move on her part.

"Me? Tutoring, obviously."

"Tutoring?"

"Yep. I'm starting a new one soon. Went in for a consultation yesterday, and lessons kick off on Tuesday."

At my answer, the buzzcut boy's eyes lit up as he leaned in. "Tutoring? Whoa… are the terms any good?"

"Nothing special. Twice a week, two hours a session, fifty an hour. The textbook costs are covered in full by the parents."

"Fifty?! Must be nice…"

A gasp burst from the bob-haired girl's lips. And no wonder. Even calculated as an hourly wage it was on the high end, and compared to the manual labor gigs most part-time jobs amounted to, tutoring was the finest 'honey job' a humanities student could ask for.

"This oppa here is from the College of Education originally, so he's got connections with the parents. The tutoring gigs just come rolling in."

Eugene gave my shoulder a thump as she played it up for the crowd. I didn't bother correcting her exaggeration.

"Looks like everyone's interested?"

"Ehehe, well, tutoring pays great!"

"You're that confident? Teaching's exhausting work, you know."

"Come on, we all just took the college entrance exam. Hey, Seonghyun, uh—would you happen to know of any open spots? Teaching kids while the material's still fresh in my head from the exam would be perfect, right? Right?"

The pitying looks that had treated me as a 'poor returning student' just minutes ago were gone without a trace. In their eyes now, I was apparently a 'well-connected senior' holding a goose that laid golden eggs.

"Well, as freshmen it won't be easy for you to find tutoring on your own… Alright. If any offers come to me that don't fit my schedule, I'll pass them your way."

"Seriously?!"

"Yeah. And you'll probably overlap on a lot of major courses too, so ask me if anything confuses you. I'll buy you all dinner now and then, so reach out whenever."

As I drove the wedge home with a soft, easy smile, the atmosphere flipped completely.

"Thank you, sunbaenim!"

"Oppa, give us your number! I'll make a group chat!"

They'd even started calling me oppa. In the sudden warmth of the moment, I traded a quick glance with Eugene under the table. She snorted, wearing an expression that said you know this is all thanks to me.

I smiled faintly and pulled out my smartphone.

System.

At the silent summons, a bluish translucent window bloomed across my retinas.

There we go.

A satisfied smile spread across my face before I could stop it.

Just as I'd predicted. Even short of outright respect, 'expectation' and 'dependence' on whatever crumbs might fall from my table were more than enough to satisfy the registration conditions for the Preliminary Roster.

And now that my capacity had grown, preparations were complete to hammer that yellow-haired little filly straight into my attendance roster.

After the meal, the chattering cluster of freshman chicks waved as they shuffled out the entrance of the student cafeteria. I raised a hand in a light, appropriately friendly wave in return.

The instant their backs vanished from view, a solid thud of impact drove into my side.

"Oof!"

"Hey, did you see that? Went great, right? Hm? You know this was all thanks to me, right?"

Eugene jabbed me with her elbow, smugly tossing her nose in the air. Every time she pressed her body close, the overwhelming volume of her chest brushed heavily against my forearm through her thin cardigan. The problem was that she remained entirely oblivious to every one of these physical contacts.

"I put in so much effort because I was worried you'd spend your readmission eating alone like a total loner. It's only a matter of time before you settle into department life now, right?"

My senior looked genuinely proud at how smoothly I was melting into the department under her protection.

Looking down at her, I suddenly felt a playful impulse stir.

"I owe you one, Senior. But…"

"But what?"

"The kids were all pretty cute, huh. Maybe it's just because they're fresh out of high school, but you can really tell the difference."

Keeping my gaze deliberately fixed in the direction the freshmen had disappeared, I let the words drop casually. I wanted to scratch at her jealousy a little—to see just how far the behavioral conditioning I'd installed, the one that kept her attention locked on me, actually reached.

But the response that came back was a bit different from what I'd hoped for.

"Hey."

Her brow knitted sharply. With a hollow laugh of pure disbelief, she gave my shin a light kick with the toe of her shoe.

"Are you insane? A fossil-smelling returning student like you, thinking about messing with girls who just walked in the door? Have some shame, will you? To them, you're just some crusty old mister, got it?"

Less jealousy than a lecture from the department's self-appointed drill-sergeant senior.

Hmm. Figured as much.

No matter that I'd planted the recognition in her that she found other men's advances unpleasant and poured her energy into me alone—it seemed that conditioning only went so far.

To her, I was still merely the 'precious junior she was responsible for looking after,' and at night, a secret partner who'd somehow gotten swept up in the mood and tangled bodies with her. I was parked precisely on that precarious boundary line and not a step beyond.

Then again, you'd think being a partner would earn me at least a little jealousy…

Well, wanting everything at once makes me a greedy thief. I just need to tear it down piece by piece.

"Well, obviously. I haven't even learned everything from you yet… I mean, who would I even date right now?"

"…What?"

In that instant, Eugene's shoulders flinched upward as if struck by lightning.

Fwoosh—

When it came to this side of things, her reactions were astonishingly transparent. The red that began at her earlobes raced up the back of her neck in a heartbeat, dyeing her pale cheeks a color on the verge of bursting.

"H-hey! You—!"

She shoved both hands flat against my chest in a panic. But not an ounce of real force went into it—it was pure flailing, a clumsy gesture meant only to hide her embarrassment.

"You—y-you—you lunatic! In the middle of campus! In broad daylight, what the—!"

"What on earth are you talking about? I meant the major coursework. What exactly were you imagining, Senior?"

"You—!"

When I shrugged with practiced innocence, she bit her lip hard, finally realizing she'd been played completely.

She looked like the kind of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠social butterfly who spent every night hopping from one drinking party to the next, brushing men off left and right—so why on earth did she have zero immunity to a single suggestive line?

"Dating and… th-that stuff are totally unrelated, okay?! Don't get the wrong idea! I'm just, as your senior—!"

"Yes, yes. Please teach me well, as my senior. Day and night."

"Ugh, seriously! I'm leaving first, so don't you dare follow me!"

Unable to bear the embarrassment a second longer, she spun on her heel and fled at a brisk clip. Her back looked so frantic she seemed about to trip over her own feet.

Normally, the unspoken rule in moments like these was to chase after her and apologize—but I leisurely watched her back until it turned the corner of the building and disappeared.

Eugene was the type to obsess over the smallest things, and in situations like this she'd spend the next few days kicking herself, wondering if she hadn't been the one at fault. Besides, now wasn't the time to be hanging all over Eugene anyway.

First things first—time to check the diary that uploads at midnight.

The first gate to breaching my student's weakness.

Monday. The hour crawling toward noon.

Behind blackout curtains, the room was still as dark as dawn.

"Mmm…"

From the tangle of blankets on the bed, a husky groan leaked out. A bare leg kicked once at the air through the twisted covers, then dropped limply.

Choi Ahyoung. Twenty years old this year, status: college entrance exam retaker.

Before her eyes had even properly opened, she groped blindly for the smartphone parked by her pillow. With practiced fingers she woke the screen, and a huge number stabbed into her vision along with the glare.

For an ordinary retaker, this would be the hour of morning classes at the cram academy and agonizing over lunch menus. But Ahyoung merely frowned and flicked through her screens.

"Ugh… it's already eleven thirty?"

Muttering in a voice cracked raw with sleep, she hauled herself upright. Her oversized pajama top had ridden all the way up past her chest after a night of tossing and turning. Without a thought of pulling her hoodie-pajamas back down, she scratched vigorously at her messily tangled yellow hair.

The feel of her scalp under her fingernails was distinctly unpleasant. She hadn't washed since last night.

Too much effort…

Leaning back against the headboard, she went straight to her social apps. Her feed was nothing but photos of friends who'd spent Sunday living it up. A university festival lineup somewhere, beers cracked open on picnic mats at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a riverside park, a four-cut photo booth strip with a boyfriend.

"Ah, fuck. I'm so jealous it hurts."

Pursing her lips in a sulk, she swore and swiped irritably at the screen. Shackled by the title of retaker, she was in that awkward position where openly playing around somehow felt like she was being watched.

Grrrowl—

Right then, her empty stomach roared loudly.

"Hungry…"

Ahyoung opened her delivery app without a second thought. Without setting a single foot out of bed, she skillfully hunted down a malatang place.

Extra beef, extra glass noodles, plenty of tofu. Spice level: the very top, stage three.

Once the order button was pressed, there was nothing left to do. She burrowed back under the covers and pulled up whatever videos were trending, and soon the room was ringing with the flashy beats of some idol's fancam edit compilation.

On the floor lay a black bra and a pair of socks, tossed off who knew when, while on the desk, in place of her exam-prep textbooks, a half-eaten bag of gummy candies and a lipstick tint lay sprawled. Right in the middle of it all, Ahyoung stared blankly at the idol's dance lines on her screen, mouth hanging open.

Ding-dong—

About an hour must have passed. The doorbell shattered the silence.

"Oh, it's here!"

Only then did Ahyoung spring off the bed like a released spring. She yanked her rolled-up hoodie hem down, then padded barefoot at a dash toward the living room.

"Who is it?"

"Delivery!"

Cracking the door open and poking just her head out, she took the malatang bag and zoomed straight back to her room.

Mom poked her head out from the master bedroom and pulled a disapproving face, but this was already routine. Accustomed to a daughter who never listened no matter how much she scolded, Mom added only a few words and didn't actually stop her.

The moment the plastic wrapping tore open, a sharp, spicy aroma hit like a wave. Ahyoung shoved the blankets carelessly to one side of the bed and unfolded a small folding table over them.

When the lid of the plastic container came off, a broth freckled with floating red oil revealed itself.

"Thank you for the meal~"

Mumbling to herself for an audience of no one, she snapped apart her wooden chopsticks and threw herself into the meal in earnest.

Slurp, slurp.

The moment the spicy, salty broth slammed into her mouth, color began to return to her listless eyes. Beads of sweat popped out across her forehead, and when her nose started to run, she wiped it roughly against the back of her hand and kept slurping down noodles.

She was deep in her malatang reverie when—

Ring— ring— ring!

The smartphone flung in the corner of the bed began rattling furiously. Chewing a mouthful of dried tofu, Ahyoung picked it up.

Notifications from a group chat called The Three Hopeless Sisters were stacking up like mad on her screen.

As she read her friends' messages, the corners of Ahyoung's mouth curled up.

"Hongdae? Ah, I do wanna go…"

She hesitated for a moment. Money was the problem. Between yesterday's delivery food and a game skin impulse-buy, her debit card balance was hanging by a thread.

Chopsticks clamped between her teeth, she opened her banking app. She typed in her password, and the instant her balance loaded—

"Huh?"

Ahyoung's eyes went wide. Just yesterday there'd been barely ten thousand won left in there. She hastily pulled up her transaction history.

"YES! I love you, Dad!"

Oblivious to the malatang broth that nearly splattered, Ahyoung bounced up and down on the bed.

Compared to her older sister, who'd gone off to a prestigious university, Dad was uniquely soft and generous with his retaking-a-year second daughter. Even while minding his wife, he had a habit of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slipping her money on the sly like this.

It was money meant for studying, of course—but the word 'study' had long ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠since been wiped from Ahyoung's mental drive.

She fired off a reply to the group chat without delay.

The moment the plan was set, the listless lethargy that had her sprawled out like a shut-in minutes ago vanished without a trace. Ahyoung slapped a lid over the leftover malatang, shoved it under her desk, and headed for the bathroom humming a tune.

When she emerged from the shower, the rich scent of shampoo and body wash rolled off her body in waves.

Sitting down at her vanity and toweling her wet hair, the look in her eyes was completely different from before.

"Let's go hard today, shall we."

She patted on her skincare in quick strokes, then laid down foundation with practiced hands. She curled her lashes up tight with an eyelash curler and drew her lash line long with a pencil liner, adding a sly wickedness to her puppy-eyed cuteness.

Finally, she dabbed a vivid red tint on the inner parts of her lips and pressed them together—mwah mwah—and in the mirror sat, in place of a drab exam retaker, a glittering twenty-something.

Now, the most important part: the outfit.

Ahyoung opened her closet and rummaged for a good long while. Several outfits already piled up on the bed like shed skins.

"This one looks way too hot… this one has a bad fit."

After much deliberation, she settled on a tight black crop top with a deeply plunging neckline and a pair of loose, baggy cargo pants. The smallest shift of her waist put her navel and the narrow curve of her hips on full display.

"Mm, perfect."

Twisting her waist this way and that before the mirror to check the fit, Ahyoung smiled in satisfaction. The identity of retaker didn't register in her eyes at all. Her head was filled only with schemes for how much fun she could squeeze out of this one day with her friends.

Having completed her preparations to perfection, Ahyoung opened her door and stepped into the living room.

Her mother, sitting on the sofa watching a home-shopping channel, turned her head.

"Oh my, where are you off to?"

Mom's gaze swept over Ahyoung's fully exposed navel and plunging chest. But she didn't click her tongue, and she didn't criticize the outfit. She herself was dressed in a thin silk slip that left her figure bare for all to see. It seemed to run in the family.

"Meeting my friends. Going to Hongdae."

"Hongdae? You haven't forgotten your tutor comes tomorrow, have you? He said he'd check how far you've gotten on Tuesday. Is everything ready?"

"Ugh, whatever, whatever. Tomorrow's problems are for tomorrow. That teacher's only going to last a few days anyway."

Ahyoung waved a dismissive hand and strolled toward the front door.

"That girl, honestly… Don't come home too late! And don't blow through your money!"

"Got it~ I'm off!"

Stuffing her heels into her beat-up Converse, she bolted out the front door like she was escaping. The instant the door clicked shut, a smile bloomed across her face, brimming with the sweet taste of freedom.

The face of Lee Seonghyun—the new tutor who'd looked so hopelessly dorky yesterday—had long since evaporated from her memory.

He'll just give up and drop off on his own anyway. Whatever.

Ahyoung pressed the elevator button with a light step. She plugged in her earphones and cranked up an upbeat pop song, and her shoulders started bobbing on their own.

No one looking at her would ever see a retaker crushed under the crushing weight of entrance exams. She was fleeing from reality—thoroughly, flawlessly—with the solid ammunition of Dad's five hundred thousand won locked and loaded.

"Crazy bitch."

And there was a man watching all of it.