Memories
Four days had passed since receiving the wedding invitation.
Now, after work, I was scrolling through Kim Yu-ra’s feed.
Honestly, it was a pointless thing to do.
I already knew why she’d sent me the invitation, what kind of situation she was in, and even the efforts she’d made to get married after breaking up with me. I could’ve mapped out her entire timeline.
The only thing I hadn’t decided was whether to send her something back. That’s why I was doing this.
Kim Yu-ra’s social media flexing had started two months ago.
A fitting photo from a high-end dress shop where rentals start at 8 million won.
The second post was a venue teaser. Tags: #PalaceGangnam, #LuxuryCollection.
The third was a flex of her new home in Dogok-dong. Floor-to-ceiling windows with a Gangnam view. Purchase price: 3.4 billion won.
The fourth… the most recent post was an engagement ring reveal.
1.2-carat diamond. D color, excellent cut. Platinum 6-prong setting.
Price: 60 million won.
The comments were pretty heated.
Half the people commenting were folks I knew.
I could imagine how much Kim Yu-ra loved reading these comments.
If what she did to me was flexing, then flexing it was.
But the targets of flexing for women who’d successfully married up weren’t usually their ex-boyfriends. It was other women.
Friends, classmates, juniors or seniors a year or two apart—those were the main targets of flexing.
If her friends were badmouthing her in a chat room, she’d probably love it even more. That would mean she’d truly succeeded in rubbing it in. How happy would she be?
Kim Yu-ra was happy right now. Undeniably.
And she was willing to stop at nothing to keep that happiness.
Sending me the mobile wedding invitation was part of that effort…
“I could break it. Easily.”
I could ruin Kim Yu-ra’s wedding right now.
Several scenarios came to mind.
Pick any one and execute it, and Kim Yu-ra would be in ruins before her wedding.
I could stay hidden and just sabotage the marriage, or pretend to know nothing and reveal the truth to the groom-to-be.
But there was a reason I hadn’t acted.
Once I started, the project would get too big.
It was different from the Han Chae-kyung case.
Chae-kyung had the stamina to handle it. Even now, hiding in Thailand, she’s probably living comfortably without money worries.
But… Kim Yu-ra wasn’t like that. She could get hurt even worse than Chae-kyung, and recovery would be practically impossible.
I wouldn’t feel guilty, but still…
We're Getting Married!
I stared at the mobile wedding invitation Kim Yu-ra had sent for a while, then left the house.
Destination: Hansan University’s Erica Campus.
The only four-year comprehensive university in Annam City, and the alma mater of Kim Yu-ra and me.
I’d known Kim Yu-ra wasn’t a virgin from the start.
Our first encounter was a bit unusual.
2017, late second semester. Evening.
I’d stumbled upon Kim Yu-ra arguing with a Black exchange student.
At the time, I knew she was a junior in my department, but we’d never even exchanged greetings.
Turns out, Kim Yu-ra had been dating the Black guy for all of sophomore year.
Naturally, behind everyone’s back.
What I’d witnessed was Kim Yu-ra giving her Black boyfriend a final lecture before he returned to Kenya after his exchange semester.
And I’d been caught in the act. I’d never forget the pale look on Kim Yu-ra’s face.
The next day, Kim Yu-ra came to find me.
“Senior, did you… see anything?”
“I saw everything. Heard everything.”
“Fuck… ah.”
“It’s okay.”
“I mean… how do I put this? I’m going crazy.”
Kim Yu-ra tried to explain with a look full of despair.
I already knew why she was so shocked.
At the time, Kim Yu-ra’s public image as a sophomore was that of a devout, kind, hardworking volunteer student. She had a decent chest, too.
No matter how many times I assured her I wouldn’t spread the word, she was in a mental breakdown, rambling on. Same the next day.
I had no choice but to use another method.
“Daniel Mbongo. Your Black boyfriend.”
“How did you know that?”
“University of Nairobi, Kenya. Civil Engineering Department. Junior. Came to our school as part of an ODA program. His main goal was infrastructure field training during breaks, though he was also taking credits. His father is a high-ranking Kenyan government official.”
“S-senior?”
“He’s already got a job lined up in Kenya. Kenya Road & Bridge Construction. A joint venture with China.”
I told her about her ex-boyfriend, an elite in the top 1% of Kenya.
Kim Yu-ra’s face clearly read, “How do you know that?”
I was more curious why she didn’t know. Connect the dots, and it just comes together. I hadn’t hacked anything—I’d just accessed publicly available information.
“Mbongo also has a fiancée in Kenya.”
“He never told me anything…”
“Her name is Stella Wain. Your ex’s father unilaterally arranged the marriage. The girl is Kikuyu, and Mbongo’s family is Luo. Looks like they matched her based on her background. The Kikuyu are the majority tribe, and they’re lenient about inter-tribal marriages…”
“…Asshole.”
I let it slide, assuming she wasn’t cursing me.
Kim Yu-ra clenched her fists, trembling. But that anger faded quickly.
Proof she hadn’t taken Mbongo seriously either.
In the end, she’d only met him for sex.
“Mbongo won’t cause you trouble.”
“Senior, what do you think of me…”
“Yu-ra. I don’t care if you date a Black guy, a Joseonjok, or anyone else.”
“…….”
“Think about it. I’m the only witness, and who would believe me if I started spreading rumors? You deliberately dated a one-year exchange student to leave no evidence, right? Big dick, no follow-through. You just had fun casually.”
Kim Yu-ra finally nodded, seemingly relieved.
A pretty junior who’d slept with a Black guy.
That was my first impression.
…
We started dating the following year.
The reason… wasn’t anything special.
Kim Yu-ra, who’d been anxious all winter break worried I’d spread rumors, came to me right after the semester started to thank me for protecting her, bought me drinks with money she didn’t have, and complained for over an hour about something. Then we ended up sleeping together.
At the time, I had no prejudice against sluts. My first girlfriend, who’d taught me a lot, had a big influence.
Mostly, why not take what’s offered? I enjoyed it.
Kim Yu-ra seemed satisfied with how things turned out and kept showing affection, and before we knew it, we were known as a couple in the department.
Worried I might think she was easy, Kim Yu-ra tried to explain herself.
“Oppa. You might not believe this, but you’re my second.”
“You met Mbongo at an international OT event?”
“Y-yes.”
“You volunteered as an exchange support assistant?”
“…Yes.”
“I get why you’re explaining, but let’s stop. It doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with—I’m not going to use you and throw you away, and I’m not going to cheat.”
I shut her down. I wasn’t confident enough to pretend to believe her.
And we had sex. Frequently.
After dinner at a motel, after exams in her off-campus room from evening until the next morning, quickly and without foreplay in a corner seminar room on the fourth floor of Chungdo. We met two to three times a week, and every time, we did it at least twice.
We hadn’t made any promises, but it was a good relationship.
The atmosphere shifted in the fall of our senior year.
It was right after I received this message from Kim Yu-ra.
After that, on the surface, things seemed the same as usual.
She’d act cute, subtly try to get me to go to church, but what she mostly wanted was sex.
If it were now, I’d have noticed what Kim Yu-ra’s subtle changes meant…
But back then, my instincts weren’t as developed.
I was completely numb.
If I’d been completely numb, we would’ve broken up normally at graduation.
But I wasn’t, so things blew up.
“Yu-ra. Your neck.”
“What are you talking about, Oppa?”
“White Cushion #21 is close to your skin tone, but if you layer it thick, the texture difference shows. If you really wanted to hide it, you should’ve neutralized the redness with concealer first, then covered it with foundation.”
“Oppa. I really hate it when you do that sometimes. Why would a guy know that?”
Kim Yu-ra covered her neck, looking troubled, but I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen it.
“Hickey.”
“No, it’s an allergy breakout.”
“So you get circular breakouts on the side of your neck too.”
I’d never left a hickey, so it had to be another guy. And he probably hadn’t just sucked her neck—he’d likely gone further. A one-night stand.
Visible circumstantial evidence…
And by combining a few clues Kim Yu-ra desperately denied while providing, the answer came out.
Not quickly—it took a full two days. I’d lost my ability at the time.
“Lee Do-hyun, youth division of Dream Hope Church.”
“…….”
“Medical student, third year of his undergraduate program.”
Anyway, I’d identified Kim Yu-ra’s one-night stand partner.
I was pissed. We’d been together for almost two years, and there was real affection built up.
But if she apologized, I was ready to break up amicably. I hated drama, emotional outbursts, and making a scene. Since we’d have to do a long-distance relationship after graduation, wrapping things up here seemed fine.
“I really didn’t sleep with him. We just talked. Oppa, are you feeling insecure?”
Kim Yu-ra said something strange.
From here, things got messy. I got worked up, and Kim Yu-ra kept insisting she hadn’t done it.
In the middle of it, I heard things that made me want to wash my ears out.
“I never looked down on you for your dad being a bus driver. Why are you acting like this? A 9th-grade civil servant, whatever…”
The ending was the worst.
“I didn’t have any prejudice against sluts. Thanks to you, I just developed one.”
“Slut? I really didn’t do it! Do you have proof?”
“I have circumstantial evidence. It would’ve been nice if the numbers showed up.”
“What are you talking about… Oppa, you’re creepy sometimes. Let’s break up!”
Because I’d been dumped by a slut.
That was the end of Kim Yu-ra and me.
At the time, I had no idea I’d receive a wedding invitation five years later.
And now, today.
I was standing at the place where Kim Yu-ra and I had broken up five years ago.
I felt like I’d come for no reason.
Because I’d already made up my mind while walking here.
I understood why I’d instinctively checked the surgical angle as soon as I received the mobile invitation, and why I’d sent Han Chae-kyung away instead of giving her a straw.
Because it annoyed me when sluts played with me.
Whether it was bullying, petty threats, or deception, the method didn’t matter.
“I guess I have to send it.”