The Reason He Hated Me

"Hey. Open the door."

The voice was lazy and rough, completely at odds with the polite knock.

The moment I recognized Lee Euntaek's voice, a sigh escaped me before I could stop it.

Why him, of all people.

He's the one who came.

I figured it'd be Jinbae or Junghyun hyung.

Flustered, I hesitated for just a moment—and that was all it took for the knocking to speed up, as if he couldn't bear the wait. It was less a knock knock and more a full-on bam bam. Afraid he'd break the door down at this rate, I answered.

"I'm in the middle of something. I'll be out in a bit."

"What kind of business takes over thirty minutes? You constipated or what?"

"……"

He'd be such a decent kid if he could just keep his mouth shut.

The problem is that he doesn't.

As I swallowed a sigh, the threats kept coming through the bathroom door.

"Hey, hey. Come on. Open up. I've got something to say."

"I said I'll be out in a minute."

"I don't have all day. Hurry up."

Hearing that delinquent voice, all my worries suddenly felt ridiculous. What was I even doing in here? …Fine. I'll go out. There was no salvaging this. He'd already seen me at my worst. I could just plaster a thick face over it and move on. Actually, this works out. The mood was already ruined anyway—might as well use the moment to tell him to leave altogether.

I flung the door open with that thought—and at the same instant, there was a dull thud.

"Agh!"

Lee Euntaek collapsed right in front of me. He'd smacked his forehead against the door I opened, and the sound was so loud I flinched too. For a split second I genuinely wondered if his skull had cracked.

"Hey, you—ow…."

Euntaek clutched his forehead and dropped to the floor, groaning. He was in too much pain to even get words out properly. Watching him writhe, I hesitated, then finally spoke.

"You okay?"

"Do I look okay to you?"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to."

"You—if you're gonna open the door, you should, agh, it really hurts."

Euntaek's face contorted, tears welling in his eyes. Looking at him glaring up at me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with those reddened eyes, I felt bad for him—and at the same time, a small part of me thought he'd had it coming.

"……You're the one who told me to open it."

"What did you say?"

At the words that had slipped out of me, Euntaek's gaze turned several degrees nastier. Even as I said it, I knew it was the wrong move, so I apologized.

"Sorry. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠For hurting you."

"Ha—forget it. Sit down for now. Let's talk."

At his jerk of the chin toward the desk in my room, I obeyed without protest. Euntaek took the desk chair; I sat on the edge of the bed. I should've taken the desk chair. There was already a height difference between us, and now, seated lower, I had to crane my neck up at him even more. It stung my pride a little.

Oblivious to whatever was going through my head, Euntaek stared straight at me.

"Hey. I'm going to be honest with you."

"Okay."

"I still don't like you."

He said it without a shred of hesitation. I answered flatly.

"I know."

"What do you know? You don't know anything."

"……"

The rebuke came back instantly, and I found myself at a loss for words. What is this kid's problem? He said he wanted to talk, then carried on like this. Whatever wrongs I'd done him aside, this was not the posture of someone trying to have a conversation.

Having concluded that productive dialogue was impossible, I let the expression I'd been carefully managing all this time fall away.

"Then what do you want me to do about it?"

One of Euntaek's eyebrows shot up. I bit down on the irritation rising anyway.

"If you want something, say it straight. Stop going in circles."

"You—"

"If you want me on my knees begging, then say that. If you just want to pick a fight, go home and write it in your diary alone. Quit picking fights like a kid. We can't even have a conversation like this."

I pressed hard at the bridge of my nose as I said it. No answer came back. It was the first time in ages I'd spoken without a filter, and I'd braced myself for an equally vicious reaction—so it caught me off guard when a strangely calm voice returned.

"Then what about you?"

"What?"

I lifted my head and found Euntaek's face, composed.

"What's the difference between me picking fights so we can't talk, and you treating me like I don't exist so we can't talk?"

"……What are you even saying."

After a beat of silence, Euntaek slowly drew in a breath.

"I said I hate you. You know why?"

The answer seemed obvious, and I frowned. I opened my mouth to say so, but Euntaek raised a hand to cut me off.

"What you'd say is obvious. That I killed Jiheon hyung. That I got you hurt. That I was a burden. Right?"

"……"

"You have nothing else to say to me. You wouldn't even have anything you wanted to say."

I was stunned into silence by a reaction I couldn't make sense of. I wanted to ask what on earth he was trying to say—but the expression Euntaek was wearing kept the words from coming. The silence stretched on, and he let out a long, deep sigh.

"The reason I hate you isn't because you killed Jiheon hyung. It's not because you got me hurt, either."

"Then what is it?"

"You keep treating me like I don't exist. Do you have any idea how much that feels like garbage?"

What?

When I knitted my brows, Euntaek went on, toneless.

"Lee Yeonjae. What happened with Jiheon hyung is in the past. It was a long time ago."

"……I know that too."

"No, you don't."

Euntaek dragged the desk chair he'd been sitting in closer to me. The distance between his eyes and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mine shrank.

"You've been like this since back then. Apologizing for things that weren't even your fault. Going on about how sorry you were."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Jiheon hyung didn't die because of you. Me getting hurt had nothing to do with you either."

"……"

"And I said that to your face, and you didn't listen to a single damn word I said, did you? Well, no wonder. That's why you ran off like you did."

Euntaek's words felt like they were flicking against my forehead, one after another. It was unpleasant. Before I knew it, I was glaring at him with my whole face twisted up.

"……Ran off? You're saying I ran away?"

"Then what do you call it? You're the one who said you wanted to go back to the orphanage."

"That was because you'd get hurt if I stayed around you—"

"Even after I told you over and over that wasn't what it was? You never even considered talking it through with me."

"How was I supposed to talk it through? You got hurt because of me—you needed surgery!"

The words burst out of me, voice raised. It wasn't like me at all. I'd tried to stay calm, but I was so angry my hands were trembling slightly. And even as my voice climbed, Euntaek just sat there, expression blank. Looking at that face made me even angrier.

"Why is this coming up now? You admitted it yourself."

"Admitted what?"

"That I killed Jiheon hyung. You went around telling everyone he died because of me. You said the same thing when we ran into each other again after all those years—so why all of a sudden…"

My voice shook, the emotions swelling too fast. My heart was pounding like it had relocated to my temples. Calm down. I was worked up past all reason. I clenched and unclenched my fists, took a deep breath, and squeezed my eyes shut—and a quiet voice settled into my ear.

"Well, I figured you'd come find me."

"……What?"

"I figured you'd get angry and come looking."

My mouth fell slightly open. When I just stared at him without a word, Euntaek faced me steadily.

"Right after you were discharged, I begged my parents. Asked them to tell me where you were."

"……"

"They wouldn't tell me. So I called every orphanage anywhere nearby, asking if there was a kid named Lee Jaehee. All of them said no."

As if recalling that time, Euntaek made a face like the memory left a bad taste in his mouth. It must have been bad enough that he even called orphanages all the way down in Busan.

"Every single place I called said there was no such kid. Of course there wasn't. Your name was Lee Yeonjae all along—and I didn't even know that."

"……"

"I went on a hunger strike. Tried every damn thing I could think of, and they still never told me where you were. So… yeah. I don't get along with my parents even now."

I couldn't process a single word coming out of Euntaek's mouth. There was too much information for my brain to absorb, and I could barely breathe.

"Looking back now, it was a ridiculous approach. I mean, what kid comes crawling back just because you yell at him for walking out on his own two feet? Sorry about that. I was just too young back then…"

Euntaek rubbed his brow awkwardly, embarrassed.

"And then I realized you were even younger than me. That's when it got embarrassing. So I decided to just forget it. Quit the blaming, all of it. But then…"

Euntaek, who'd been staring at the floor, let out a short, dry laugh. Eyes brimming with something that wasn't quite amusement turned toward me.

"There you were. On TV."

"……"

The air seemed to sink. The longer I held Euntaek's gaze, the colder my body felt.

"At first I was shocked. Couldn't believe it. And after that… I actually thought it was a good thing. I even screencapped your drama scenes and shoved them in my parents' faces."

"……"

"See? I was right, wasn't I! You had nothing to do with me getting hurt. If you really had, there's no way this kid would be doing this well, would there? Screaming that at them. Haha. You should've seen Mom and Dad's faces then."

Euntaek laughed, his face entirely devoid of humor. I couldn't say anything at all. For a long while, the light laughter kept coming—until it turned bitter.

"I thought you'd figured it out too, like my parents did. That none of what happened back then was your fault."

"……"

"So I waited for you to reach out. You won a popularity award, shot a movie, did a drama, took home Best Actor…. And still no call, so I thought—ah. He wants everything that happened with us erased. Like it never ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠existed."

Euntaek shrugged, then admitted that if he'd been in my shoes, he probably would've done the same.

"I resent my parents for it, but you had it even worse, didn't you? Not exactly fond memories to look back on. So I tried to forget you too—until Seong Ijun told me he'd talked about you and me."

"……"

"When you told me you'd found out Ijun and I were friends, I figured my time had come. That's when I got your number, too. I was going to apologize for all the trash I talked behind your back, congratulate you on how far you'd come."

But you never called.

Euntaek gave an awkward laugh.

"I mean, I could've reached out first… but it stung, you know? I scoured the whole country calling every orphanage trying to find you, and you hear I exist and don't so much as send a text. You didn't even ask Ijun how I was doing. Heartless bastard."

"……"

"The day before Noh Bihyeok brought you to our practice room, he told me in advance. I was so nervous I couldn't sleep. Kept running through what I'd even say to you. And then the second you saw my face, your expression was… like it wasn't a horror movie or anything."

Euntaek snickered. It didn't look fun in the slightest.

"I'm human too, so it hurt. I lost it before I knew it, said everything and nothing—but you never denied it. When I realized you still thought it was all your fault, honestly, I was floored."

When I summoned him to my house the next day, Euntaek said, he'd seen it as his chance to finally have the conversation we'd never managed. But then all I talked about was Noh Bihyeok, which made him angry—and the way I just kept repeating how sorry I was about the past made him even angrier.

"Sure, I could've handled it more maturely. It would've been better if I'd told you first that none of it was your fault. But the way you looked at me was just…"

Euntaek let the sentence trail off. He didn't say it outright, but I knew what he was trying to say. Ever since I'd run into him again, I'd been seeing him as nothing more than a stranger—someone I owed a debt to, someone with every reason to hate me.

For a long time, I couldn't speak. That Euntaek had come searching for me after I left was shocking enough, but learning the reason behind everything he'd done recently shook me even more. Which meant…

He was hurt that I'd overlooked him.

While I'd been trying to brush the past aside as something already done and over with, Euntaek had been waiting. Waiting for the day I'd treat him as Euntaek—not as "Noh Bihyeok's groupmate" or "Seong Ijun's friend."

A day exactly like this one.