Orientation Party (4)
Yu Jiyeon betrayed me. She hadn’t so much as half-listened to a word I said, dragged me all the way to the after-party, and then ditched me the second she decided she needed to cultivate study-group connections.
“Mind if we sit with you?”
To make matters worse, Oh Sujeong and Han Gyeoul dropped into the empty seats at my table.
I scanned the room for Kwak Dongbin and his crew. Sure enough, they were glued to the freshmen, spinning their “back in my day” stories with heroic enthusiasm.
Still, with Jiyeon gone, this was probably the best combination left. At least I knew these two. More importantly, neither of them was affected by my pheromone.
“Of course you can sit. But aren’t you two officers? Shouldn’t you be planted in the center?”
“This is the center. Yeong unnie’s right next to us.”
“...”
So I was the one who’d sat in the wrong place? I turned my head and, sure enough, Yeong and Aeri were at the neighboring table.
“Y-Yeong, long time no see. I was going to say hi, but you looked so busy I kept waiting for the right moment.”
“That bastard’s lying through his teeth. He’s been trying to bolt since the first round. Jiyeon had to drag him here.”
Yeong might have bought it, but there was no fooling Aeri. And wasn’t that a little funny in its own right?
“Aeri, why haven’t you gone home yet? I get that Yeong has to stay as student council president, but you’ve got zero reason to stick around.”
“I’m staying because of Yeong. What about you? Jiyeon’s already gone, so why are you still here? Already traded up from Yu Jiyeon to Oh Sujeong? Makes sense—you ditched all your own classmates to look after her, after all.”
“...”
I should have kept my mouth shut. Even Yeong, who’d been trying to stay neutral, frowned at that last bit as if it crossed a line she couldn’t ignore.
“A-are the two of you... really close?”
Of course the juniors felt awkward watching us bicker right in front of them. Gyeoul, bless her, tried to reframe our relationship as something friendly.
“Anyone can see Aeri can’t stand me... Don’t worry about it. Tonight’s the last time you’ll ever have to watch this circus anyway.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before Yeong and Aeri stood up and left. The table was a dead zone, so they went off in search of other upperclassmen.
“I don’t mind. You didn’t come to the second round because of me, sunbae. You came because of Gyeoul.”
“Sujeong? Enough...”
Even now Oh Sujeong was desperate to ship me with Han Gyeoul. Not that she lacked what she considered airtight evidence.
“Am I wrong? You said you were leaving, then after you talked to her you flipped completely and just casually tagged along. Come on, oppa—tell me I’m wrong.”
“Uh... Jiyeon really is the one who brought me. Then she left first, so I got stuck here alone.”
“You’re always so good at excuses. Anyway, I’ve got to go pass drinks around, so you two have fun together.”
“...?”
Leaving only those words, Sujeong vanished. Which left me and Gyeoul alone at an empty table.
“I’m sorry, sunbae. I’ll make sure she never says anything like that again.”
“As long as it doesn’t bother you... But shouldn’t you be circulating drinks too?”
“I don’t have to. I think Sujeong just wanted to drink herself... More than that, I can’t handle alcohol.”
“Not even one glass?”
“Not quite that bad, but my face turns red right away... It’s red right now, isn’t it?”
Gyeoul brushed her cheek as if embarrassed. It was a little flushed, sure—but when she looked that pitiful it only made her prettier.
“...”
That aside, we had run completely out of things to talk about. I almost missed the days of bickering with Aeri.
“S-sunbae, where do you live?”
“Me? I’m from the countryside, so I’m renting near the bowling alley for now. You a Seoul native?”
“Incheon. Lived there my whole life.”
“Really? Must be rough commuting. They don’t even give dorms out there, right?”
“It’s Bupyeong, so I only have to transfer once. About an hour, so it’s relatively close.”
“An hour each way would drain the life out of anyone. I only go as far as Gasan and even that gets boring.”
“Is that where you work? Maybe we’ve ridden the same train once without knowing.”
Thanks to Gyeoul’s effort, the conversation was starting to limp along. I figured I should put in a little work myself.
“Doubt it. It’s the start of the semester—aren’t you stuck late prepping all these events?”
“You’re right. But how do you even know about student council work? Didn’t you only finish your first semester of freshman year before enlisting?”
“Jiyeon was class president, so I helped her with a bunch of stuff. Nothing as brutal as second-year work, but I know roughly how it runs.”
“You two must have been really close. People who aren’t involved don’t usually help out like that...”
“You already know, so why ask? I was just the idiot who followed her around.”
I didn’t particularly want to talk about those days. But since she had occupied most of my life back then, every road eventually led back to her.
“You came here because Jiyeon unnie asked you to, right? Looks like you got separated halfway.”
“She’s in a LEET study group. Someone from that circle called her over all of a sudden. Said a really important connection was showing up and she couldn’t miss it.”
“So you’re leaving soon too, sunbae?”
“I’ll read the room and slip out. When are you heading out?”
“The student council only has to stay until the second round, so I’m planning to leave around then. Not sure when it’ll actually end, though...”
Gyeoul looked exhausted. One glance was enough to tell she wasn’t the type who thrived on socializing the way Sujeong did.
Event prep she could force herself through out of duty, but a gathering like this probably felt unnecessary. Maybe that was why.
I found myself wanting to stay by her side at least until then.
“You don’t drink, sunbae?”
“I already had a lot earlier.”
“You must have a high tolerance. I can’t tell you’re drunk at all.”
“I don’t usually drink much. ‘A lot’ is by my standards—I probably didn’t even finish half a bottle.”
“Really? Jiyeon unnie’s famous for holding her liquor.”
“That’s how I got better. When I first started school I could barely drink, but by the end of the semester I could at least keep up with one person’s share.”
“I see... Sh-shall we have a glass, then?”
Gyeoul must have found the silence awkward; she lifted a glass with an uncharacteristic offer. There was no need for that.
“You don’t have to force yourself. And you don’t have to sit next to me out of obligation either.”
“That’s not it! I’m not forcing myself—I just wanted to rest a little. When I’m with you, sunbae, I don’t feel like I have to laugh too hard or put on a show...”
“...”
Is that just a polite way of saying my presence is completely negligible? Like how you can walk around naked in front of your dog or cat and feel zero shame?
“I just... everyone’s in party mode, so I thought if I matched the mood a little it might be easier.”
“If it helps you, then let’s drink.”
We clinked glasses—clink. I downed mine in one go; Gyeoul sipped carefully, eyes closed, accepting the burn.
But it didn’t feel completely forced. The corners of her mouth, still holding the glass, caught the light like grains of salt. The way her lips slowly curved upward made her look like a model from a soju commercial. It was so lovely I almost refilled her glass without thinking.
“Can I sit here? Heehee!”
“...?”
A visitor arrived at our empty table. A young girl with an extremely cute laugh dropped herself—thud—right into the seat next to Gyeoul.
“Oh? Ain?”
“I wanted to get closer to unnie. Heehee!”
Ain... I was sure I’d heard the name. During last time’s department headcount someone had mentioned she and a sophomore named Hanbin already had a weird vibe going.
“Who’s this oppa, though? I’ve never seen him before.”
She turned toward me and tilted her head. The bold way she spoke already radiated that unmistakable freshman spark.
Classic cat-like features, yet nothing sharp about her. Barely twenty, soft baby fat still clinging to her cheeks, peach-fuzz down so fine she just looked cute. Her eyes were big to begin with, and the plump aegyo-sal underneath gave her a slight Squirtle vibe. She even pulled off a center-parted, tied-back style that most people couldn’t—her head shape was that pretty.
Beep-beep!
An alarm blared inside my skull. If she was a strong contender for campus couple material, that also made her exactly the kind of person I needed to avoid most.
“Well, I should get going.”
“...?”
I stood up with the most blatant escape maneuver imaginable. Ain blinked at me in pure incomprehension.
“Oppa, why are you leaving just because Ain got here?”
“Huh? No way. I was already about to leave—you just happened to show up.”
Had she just referred to herself in the third person? Combined with that artificial little “heehee,” it was clear she was no ordinary fox. Another reason to put distance between us.
“But you haven’t even introduced yourself to Ain yet...”
“Kang Taekgu. Have fun, then. See you next week—”
“Hey, where do you think you’re going? You’re drinking with hyung.”
“...!?”
Out of nowhere, Kwak Dongbin and his friends came thundering over in a pack.
They used sheer force to shove me back into my seat, then completed a flawless encirclement around Gyeoul and Ain.
“Ain-ah, you know my name?”
“Dongbin oppa! And that oppa is Sanghyeok oppa, and that one is Jihun oppa...”
“Damn, how do you memorize everyone’s names so fast? You got in on scholarship, didn’t you?”
Every time Ain called out a name, uncontrollable middle-aged-man giggles erupted. Suddenly everything clicked into place.
This Ain girl was the Yu Jiyeon of her class. Slightly different style, but already drawing concentrated fire from the seniors with overwhelming looks and peak-level cuteness.
But. If. That. Was. The. Goal. Couldn’t they just let me leave?
“Uh... hyung? I drank a lot already, so I should really—”
“Drank what, you punk? We’re just getting started. Ain-ah, where’d you say you live again?”
“Seoul! But this oppa keeps trying to run away from Ain. Hiiing...”
Ain pointed at me and made a pouty face. Instantly Kwak Dongbin and the rest of the seniors possessed the spirits of her older brothers.
“Why are you hurting a kid’s feelings?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone—I really just drank too much and was leaving... I didn’t mean it that way, but if I hurt you I’m sorry. So I’ll just—”
“See? He won’t even look Ain in the eye.”
“Hey, are you going to apologize properly or what?”
“...”
This little witch was using the hyungs to paint me as the villain. Sure, I had been openly trying to escape, but honestly—one guy leaving wouldn’t change a thing, right?
“Ain-ah, stop that and tell us your first impressions of the oppas. You know, that game where you sum it up in one word.”
He didn’t even know what the game was; he just wanted an excuse to talk to her. The impressive part was that Ain was prepared enough to answer even that vague question on the spot.
“Sounds fun! Hmm... Dongbin oppa is a teddy bear!”
“A t-teddy bear? Okay, I’ve been slacking on weight management lately, but—”
“You look like you’d be super soft to hug while sleeping! Heehee!”
“Ohhh...”
Kwak Dongbin already had his eyes closed, melting into a fantasy of cuddling with Ain. Next up was Woo Sanghyeok.
“Sanghyeok oppa is... the history club president!”
“A-Ain-ah? You’re not about to say I ‘look smart,’ are you? First of all that’s not even true, and hyung has heard that line way too many times...”
“You look like you’d kindly answer anything I don’t know about school. And like you’d buy me food all the time. Heehee!”
“Heeung...”
Woo Sanghyeok immediately drifted into a daydream of walking around campus hand-in-hand with Ain.
She was so good with words that she gave each person a unique first impression and reason—no repeats.
Which left only me. I had zero desire to join this game, but a thoroughly buzzed Kwak Dongbin threw an arm around my shoulder and asked,
“Hey, what about Taekgu?”
“Hyung, we really don’t need to include me—”
“There is one! Zero charm!”
“Ooooh! Why’s that?”
Given the pattern so far, she was supposed to drop a disappointing line and then cleverly salvage it. Everyone pricked up their ears, waiting for the punchline.
Then Ain spoke. With the sunniest emoji face in the world.
“Exactly what it sounds like? You look fine, but as a guy? I feel nothing. Heehee!”
“...”
The atmosphere iced over instantly. No matter how drunk or hyped they were, nobody mistook that for a joke.
Everyone’s eyes slid sideways to check my reaction. As for how I felt...
I felt nothing.
I wasn’t playing tough. I’d been through this enough times, and I even understood exactly why Ain said it.
This, too, was the pheromone. Because the pheromone wasn’t something I could switch on whenever I wanted.
Mine was constantly seeping out. It only triggered a chemical reaction that moved someone’s heart when I held a “comparative advantage.”
So what about ordinary times? My working definition: it was basically a faintly unpleasant stench.
I knew I looked decent enough. Personality-wise I was just an ordinary guy with no sharp edges—people could take it or leave it.
And yet I had zero popularity. Yes, Yu Jiyeon was on another level and rejected me, but the truth was that everyone, including her, rejected me.
Peak irony. I received fanatical love from other men’s women, yet I could never make one of my own. A terrifying curse.
“Ain-ah? You can’t talk to a sunbae like that.”
Still, she was the first person to say it out loud. There was such a thing as defamation by stating facts, after all, so Gyeoul’s expression hardened as she scolded Ain for the rudeness.
“Ain was just being honest...”
Ain immediately made another pouty face. Well, she had only done what the oppas asked.
She’d simply stripped away the pretense and hit me with pure fact. It just happened to sting a little.
“May I leave now?”
Separate from all that, I finally had a perfect excuse to get out of here.
Kwak Dongbin and his crew couldn’t utter a single word. Like the Red Sea, they parted and opened a path for me.