Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: New Year's Family Pressure
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A sight so rare it couldn't be found anywhere else was unfolding right before my eyes. And I was part of it. Honestly, could something like this really happen in real life?
"Hiyah! Handstand... Gahhh! My back!"
A blonde beauty with idol-level looks was standing on her hands completely naked. And then she brazenly thrust out her hips to write her name in the air. Even though I'd had sex with her, I doubted I could ever pull off something like that.
"Kyaaah! Eek! Seriously, seriously...! This is the worst! What kind of person are you?!"
Han Aebom was shrieking in high-pitched panic. Meanwhile, I stood there dazed as Oh Hana wrote her name with her ass and quietly slipped away.
Of course, even if my mind felt like it was fraying, I'd firmly saved Oh Hana's naked handstand and ass-writing routine to my brain's hard drive.
'Yeah. No matter how I look at it, those two getting along is impossible to imagine.'
Would Han Aebom smash a book on Oh Hana's head first, or would Oh Hana dropkick her right in the crown? Who knows.
Forget it. Just forget. It's not like there's a penalty or an uncompletable quest anyway.
"What's so embarrassing about girls seeing each other naked! Fine, if that's how it is, you strip too!"
"I'm calling the cops!"
I reached out to stop the rampaging Oh Hana.
Ring ring, ring ring.
My phone went off. Everyone flinched at the incoming call. Guess we're all from the same generation—everyone's got a bit of phone anxiety.
We all sneakily checked our phones.
"Not me."
"Not me either."
It was mine. My heart tightened for no reason before I even saw who it was. Guilt, probably. When I checked, I let out a big sigh through my nose. It wasn't from my mouth, but it was definitely a sigh.
"I'll take this outside real quick."
"Okay..."
"Sure thing, oppa."
I slipped on my flip-flops and headed out, pretending everything was fine. With Oh Hana moving in and now Han Aebom too, I'd been ignoring it all under the excuse of being busy.
I took a small deep breath and answered.
"Yeah, Dad."
His voice came through the phone.
-Hey. Son. How've you been?
A standard check-in. Anyone could've said it, not just Dad. But even that casual greeting made my chest tighten uncomfortably.
"Yeah. Doing fine."
-Good.
Dad was choosing his words carefully too. A far cry from how he used to be. Mom wasn't exactly easygoing either, but if I had to pick who was more comfortable between the two, it'd be Mom hands down.
Dad could be a bit rigid.
-Figured you were busy job hunting, so I didn't call on Lunar New Year's.
"Thanks."
Saved my skin.
...I couldn't add that. It'd just irritate him and turn the conversation sour in an instant.
-I get you're busy and tired, but you should've called on New Year's. Make sure to reach out to Grandpa, Grandma, and your mom later too.
"Yeah, I will."
I really had messed up by not calling on New Year's. Successful people always keep in touch even during tough times and pull through. Saying I'd just take a mental hit from the calls was probably just an excuse.
-How's the job prep going?
"Eh, not sure."
-When your dad asks, at least say it's going well. Nothing fails if you work hard. It's because you haven't been that it isn't working out. Work hard and it'll happen. That's how I've lived.
That's what bugs me sometimes. He's kind and considerate, but when he casually drops lines that feel like they're gutting you, something inside me chips away bit by bit, even if I don't show it.
"I'll do my best."
-Yeah, you need to get a job soon. Can't have a grown man in his twenties living off part-time gigs forever. If it doesn't work out, come down. We'll do construction work together.
"I'll think about it."
I kept scratching the back of my head, pacing the one-room hallway like I had anxiety, just waiting for the call to end.
-I know it's tough, but swing by Grandpa's for the ancestral rite soon. Not as many people as New Year's, so it'll be easier.
"...Yeah, sure."
If I'd hemmed and hawed or said no, all hell would've broken loose.
-Eat well.
"Yeah."
-Be a man. Don't shrink away. Keep your shoulders back and live proud. Got it?
"Yeah."
All I could manage was robotic "yeahs," soulless as a machine.
-Hanging up.
"Yeah, talk later."
-Okay.
Click. The call ended. I stared blankly at my blackened smartphone, scratching my head. I fiddled with my thumb against my teeth, motionless, then let out a deep sigh. How many heavy sighs did I heave?
I immediately called Grandma and Grandpa. Their hearing wasn't great with age, so I had to shout. Midway, the guy from two doors down poked his head out, confused, saw me, and quietly went back in.
I gave him an apologetic hand gesture and continued more carefully.
Sorry I couldn't come down for New Year's, sorry for calling late, don't worry, I'm eating fine.
Just those trivial chats drained me completely.
-Job prep going well, grandson?
"Yeah, well... I'm trying."
A dizzying pang hit me with every word.
-Good, good. We all know our smart grandson will make it. Times are tough these days. But the ones who succeed do. The neighbor's son just had a big corp interview...
"Heh, impressive."
-You'll make it. Next time you visit, you'll have a job, right? Gotta get employed to snag a pretty girl and marry quick.
"...I'll try."
Grandma and Grandpa kept circling back to jobs—maybe they had nothing else to say, or they were worried.
I couldn't say much, just nodded along with yeahs. What could I do? Yell at my elderly grandparents?
-Alright, grandson. Hang in there. See you at Chuseok?
"Ah, I'll probably drop by briefly for the rite then."
-Good, good. Hang up now. You must be tired.
I was already wiped out. Felt like I'd pulled three straight night shifts at the convenience store in that short time.
"...Talk later."
Click. Silence hit, and a flood of thoughts raced through my mind. Was it my generation's phone phobia? Or just how pathetic I felt right now?
A few calls and I was lightheaded.
"One more to go."
I called Mom next. As the ring dragged on, I thought: if calls alone sap me this much, going home for New Year's would've turned me to dust.
I could 120% relate to folks who dread holidays as unemployed bums.
-Hey, son! What's up? Calling out of the blue.
Unlike my uptight dad, Mom still had that childlike side. Her excited voice eased me a bit.
"Nah, just... sorry for not coming down or calling on New Year's."
-Psh, it's fine. Job hunting's rough, right? Don't push too hard. Quit if it's too much. As long as you're healthy, you'll get by.
"True."
-Mom's busy now. Call back later?
Yes, sir. This way, please.
...Her cheerful voice drifted faintly through the phone.
"Got it."
Click. The second it ended,
I slumped against the one-room wall. I lifted my bangs with one hand, closed my eyes tight, and took heavy breaths.
At least Mom was last—small mercy. Still, the brick-wall heaviness in my chest wouldn't lift.
"Hoo..."
I wasn't even relying on family support. I was handling part-time work and job prep myself, yet this feeling lingered. I wasn't satisfied with my situation—or I was anxious about it.
Deep down, I knew I was a lousy son.
[Fun Bunch Season 4]
I scrolled through the high school friends' group chat. Ever since I became the only bum, I barely read their hype posts—just marked as read or skimmed during dead shifts at the store.
Hadn't posted in over a month. They were sharing New Year's cash from parents and grandparents, gas money totals. All money talk.
And that cash flaunted the perks of having a job.
"Tch."
Dad and Mom, both over 50, still grinding away. Here I was, 29, college grad, wasting time. It was driving me nuts. Felt like I was falling behind, scared and terrified.
"Should've sent them some pocket money."
I'd cleared quests, saved on rent—had cash to spare. Pocket money wouldn't kill me. And I could've at least called.
"Fuck..."
Hating myself more for only thinking of it now. I smacked my lips and sighed endlessly right there.
Some self-help book said negative thoughts dig deeper the more you dwell—shake 'em off, think positive. Easier said than done. If I could, I wouldn't be like this.
"Cigarette. Ah."
Rummaging my pockets, I remembered leaving them in the room. As I palmed the door lock,
The door swung open, and Oh Hana popped out grinning, coffees in both hands.
"Yo, bro. Smoke break? Let's go. Gazua!"
It was so absurd I burst out laughing. When did she change into sleepwear?
"D-did you grab smokes?"
"In my pocket. C'mon, gazua."
"Alright, gazua."
"Gazua!"
I'd seen it somewhere before. We grinned like idiots and ducked into the alley by the one-room.
Stuck cigs in our mouths.
"Hold up, I'll light it."
"Thanks."
Oh Hana lit mine with her usual cigarette kiss. So sweet. Meltingly sweet. Sweet enough to sting my eyes.
That's when
Thwack—she slammed my back full force. I coughed out smoke and looked at her. She blew smoke skyward and said,
"Life's short! Live lavishly, they say. Shoulders back, man. Slouched guys ain't popular with girls, y'know?"
"Pfft, heh..."
Smoke leaked from my chuckles.
I straightened my shoulders like she said and looked up at the sky.
Plop plop—rain started pouring down.