I Decided to Stop Being Her Fake Boyfriend
"Jun."
Near the end of lunch, Han Yuna set a strawberry milk carton down on my desk.
"Open this for me."
"What, you don't have hands? Or feet?"
"I just got my nails done."
Yuna spread her pink-painted fingernails right in front of my face. I stared at her with an expression of pure disbelief, then finally peeled the plastic off the straw and stuck it through the packaging.
Han Yuna.
My childhood friend of twelve years—and the girl who'd been playing the role of my fake girlfriend for a full four years now.
"Here."
"Thanks."
Yuna casually dragged over the chair beside mine and sat down. Sipping the strawberry milk through the straw I'd put in for her, she held her phone screen out toward me.
"What do you think of this?"
A white dress filled the display.
"It's pretty."
"It's what I'm wearing this week."
"You're going somewhere this week too?"
"We're going to the movies, remember?"
I looked at her for a moment.
"You're actually going?"
"What, say it and then not go?"
"Who even remembers something you mentioned once to your friends?"
"I remember."
Yuna's voice was firm.
"We haven't even posted any pictures of us hanging out on the weekends lately."
"I don't think we need to worry about that kind of thing anymore."
"What are you talking about? You have to keep showing off a relationship if you want people to believe it."
"Yeah, yeah."
When I answered halfheartedly, Yuna pouted.
"What's with that answer?"
—Thok.
She gave my forearm a playful smack.
"That hurts, you know."
"I barely even hit you."
"My heart hurts."
"You'll hurt over anything."
Yuna snorted a laugh and lightly tapped my arm again. Watching from the seat in front of us, Park Junho shook his head from side to side.
"You two are being disgustingly lovey-dovey."
Junho was a guy I'd only gotten close with after starting high school—the kind of friend who lived for teasing me and Yuna.
"Having fun?"
"With what?"
That was when Kim Minseok, sitting next to him, jumped into the conversation.
"Han Yuna's right there hanging all over you and you're not having fun?"
"Shut up."
"The fact that you're denying it is already pissing me off."
Minseok looked at me with pure envy written across his face.
"What the hell did I do in my past life to spend lunch with two other high school guys while Han Yuna shows up at your desk with strawberry milk?"
"I was the one who opened the strawberry milk for her."
"That's even more enviable, you bastard."
Laughter erupted around us at Junho's words. Looking pleased with the reaction, Yuna casually latched onto my arm.
"If you're jealous, go get girlfriends of your own."
"If it were that easy, do you think we'd be sitting here like this?"
"Well, maybe you should've tried harder."
"Now she's just straight-up bragging."
Junho and Minseok jeered in unison. Yuna laughed like she found the whole thing entertaining, and I laughed along just enough to keep up.
But the more I smiled, the less funny any of it felt. A dull tightness settled deeper into a corner of my chest.
Why is this happening?
I asked myself the question, but I already knew the answer.
The relationship those guys were so jealous of had never been real to begin with.
It all started back in our second year of middle school.
Even then, Han Yuna stood out. She didn't wear makeup or dress up the way she does now, and still boys from other classes would loiter outside our classroom during every break just for a glimpse of her. There was no real need to explain how popular she was.
The problem was one of them. Even after she turned him down, he wouldn't let go.
He followed her home asking for her number. He waited outside her cram school until it let out. He even contacted her friends to dig up her schedule.
At first Yuna tried to brush it off, but she wore down bit by bit. She started avoiding walking alone. She kept glancing over her shoulder on the way home. Whenever an unknown number lit up her phone, her face would go tight.
Then one evening, late, Yuna rang our doorbell in a panic.
When I opened the door, she was standing there in her school uniform, breathing hard. Her hair—usually so neat—was a mess, and her bag strap was crushed in her white-knuckled grip.
"What's wrong?"
Yuna didn't answer. She spun around and checked behind her first. Only after confirming no one was there did she let out a breath of relief.
"He followed me again."
"Who?"
"The guy who confessed before."
Her voice trembled, small.
"He's been following me since cram school ended. I took a bunch of detours through the alleys because I was scared he'd follow me all the way home, but he just wouldn't leave."
"Why didn't you say something sooner? Has he been doing this the whole time?"
"I thought if I said anything it'd just blow up into a bigger deal…"
Her words trailed off. The eyes of the girl who'd been pretending she was fine slowly turned red, and then a single tear slipped down her cheek.
"I'm really struggling."
Yuna hurriedly wiped at her face with the back of her hand, but once the tears started, they wouldn't stop easily.
"I've told him no so many times and I still don't understand why he keeps doing this… I'm scared to even walk alone."
In nearly ten years of knowing her, I don't think I'd ever seen Yuna cry like that. I hesitated for a moment, then brought her inside.
"Come in for now. My parents are out, so it's fine."
Even after stepping into the entryway, Yuna kept her lips pressed tight for a long while. Then, carefully, she caught hold of my uniform sleeve.
"…Jun."
"Yeah."
"Help me."
"Of course. What do you need me to do?"
Yuna looked up at me with her reddened eyes.
"Just for a month—pretend to be my boyfriend."
"What?"
"If people think I have a boyfriend… maybe it'll at least be better than this."
Her grip on my sleeve tightened.
"I'm scared to walk alone now."
That one sentence left me with no reason to hesitate.
"Okay."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'll do it."
If all it took was me playing boyfriend for a little while so Yuna wouldn't have to be afraid anymore, I could do that much without a second thought.
And so the fake relationship began, and it ran for the full month we'd agreed on. I walked to and from school with her. Sometimes I went to pick her up when cram school let out.
Even then, the guy kept circling around her. It was only after we reported him with the messages and call logs we'd collected as evidence that he finally disappeared. A few days later, we heard he'd been brought in for police questioning. He wouldn't be following Yuna anymore.
"Guess we can end it now."
On the day the month was up, I said it without much thought.
"End what?"
"The boyfriend act. They caught the guy."
Yuna didn't answer right away. Instead she looked away for a moment, lips moving soundlessly, then carefully took hold of my sleeve again.
"Can we keep going a little longer?"
"…Huh?"
"Ever since word got out that you're my boyfriend, the other guys have been bothering me less too."
"There's no one following you around anymore, though."
"Still. Someone else could show up."
Yuna lifted her head slightly, as if gauging my reaction.
"And hanging out the way we do now isn't so bad either."
Back then, I didn't think there was any special meaning in those words. We'd already been doing it for a month—what was the harm in stretching it a little further? That was the thought that led me into something I never should have done.
"Okay. Then let's keep it going a little longer."
"Really?"
"But once things settle down for good, we're ending it."
"Okay."
Yuna beamed and nodded.
And just like that, the fake relationship that was supposed to last a month got extended.
I had no idea then that Yuna's "a little longer" would stretch on for years.
"Lee Jun."
Junho snapped his fingers.
"What are you zoning out about?"
"Just thinking about the past a little."
"The past?"
"It's nothing."
I brushed it off and glanced sideways. Yuna was still perched on the edge of my desk, looking at her phone. A faint smile lingered at the corners of her mouth from all the laughing and talking just moments before.
I watched her quietly, then let out a small breath inside myself.
Today, I was going to end this relationship.
Not that I meant to pull away from Yuna—if anything, it was the opposite.
I don't want to be her fake boyfriend anymore. I want to be her real one.
Today, I was going to confess how I felt.
After school, I leaned against the hallway window waiting for Yuna, who had cleaning duty.
—Scrape.
From inside the classroom came the sound of desks being dragged and brooms sweeping. A moment later the door opened and Yuna stepped out with her bag over her shoulder.
"Did you wait long?"
"Not really."
"Liar. Almost everyone else is already gone."
Yuna came up beside me and latched onto my arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"That dress I showed you this morning."
"Yeah."
"Doesn't the neckline look a little empty?"
She pulled out her phone and showed me the saved photo.
"So I want to look at something else on the way. White, or a light brown?"
"I'd have to see them in person."
"Right? Then you pick for me."
"Okay."
"I need to look at shoes too. There's so much to buy before the movie."
Yuna kept talking for a long while, already looking forward to the weekend. It was an after-school walk home no different from any other—down the hallway, down the stairs, switching into sneakers at the shoe lockers, out the school gate, browsing clothes together, stopping by our usual snack shop, then heading home side by side.
But today, there was something I had to do first.
"Yuna."
"Yeah?"
"Let's stop somewhere for a second."
"Where?"
"The rooftop."
Yuna stopped walking.
"Why?"
"…I have something to say."
"Can't you say it here?"
"It's kind of important."
She must have sensed that my voice was different from usual. She looked at me for a moment, then nodded.
"…Okay."
The school was going quiet fast now that classes were over. In the emptied hallway, the only sound that reached us was the distant chanting of the athletic clubs.
"……."
As we climbed the stairs, Yuna didn't say much. I didn't open my mouth either, too busy figuring out where to even start.
When I pushed open the rooftop door, a cool wind swept in. The slanting sunlight had already painted the railing and the floor a deep red.
Yuna walked farther onto the rooftop first, then turned around.
"So what's going on?"
"……."
"You've been weird today."
She studied my face as she asked.
"Did something happen?"
"No."
"Then what?"
I pulled my hands out of my pockets. I'd practiced the words so many times in my head, but standing face-to-face with Yuna, they wouldn't come out easily. My throat was bone-dry.
Maybe I shouldn't say it. Maybe this is enough as it is. Do we really need to change anything?
The thoughts flickered through me for a moment. But if I ran from it now, I'd just put it off for months again. And someday, after someone else had already come into Yuna's life, I'd regret it.
I didn't want that.
Even if she turned me down, I wanted to tell her how I felt.
"Yuna."
"Yeah."
I drew a short breath.
"We've been doing this for a pretty long time now."
"The fake relationship?"
"Yeah."
Yuna nodded.
"True. It's been years already."
"At the start, I really just meant to help you out."
"Yeah."
"You were in a tough spot, so I figured I'd pretend to be your boyfriend for a bit, and once things settled down we'd end it."
"And somehow it just kept getting extended."
Yuna laughed lightly.
"Did I take advantage of you too much?"
"That's not what I'm trying to say."
My voice hardened, and the smile on Yuna's face gradually faded. I looked straight into her eyes.
"I don't really know when it started."
"……."
"But it doesn't feel like acting anymore."
Yuna's eyes slowly widened. The wind stirred her long hair.
"Walking to school with you."
"……."
"Meeting up every weekend, going to the movies, holding hands."
The more I spoke, the faster my heart pounded. Yuna said nothing. Normally she would have teased me or laughed it off—but now she was just staring at me with a rigid expression.
"I'm not doing this as a fake anymore."
I clenched my fist lightly.
Once the words were out of my mouth, the rest came easily.
"Not as a friend."
"……."
"Not as a fake girlfriend."
I poured every feeling I'd hidden for years into what came next.
For a long while, no answer came back.
—Whoosh.
A cool wind cut across the rooftop, threading through the silence that had settled between us. The heat that had been rising in my face before the confession slowly drained away—as if it already knew what Yuna's answer would be.
Yuna lowered her gaze, then looked at me again. Her lips moved a few times before she carefully opened her mouth.
"Jun."
The moment I heard her voice, I somehow already knew what would follow.
My heart sank, slowly.