Worries, Conflicts, and.... (1)
“I was stubborn with Yun-su, but it’s fine if we go somewhere else now.”
“That’s what I should be saying. I’ve always been fine with bone hangover stew or gamjatang, but you never really liked them. What’s with the sudden change of heart?”
“My tastes must be cycling around. It just hit me all of a sudden.”
Seonghwan hadn’t realized it back then either. When Yun-su was in the military and he hung out with Ye-seul just the two of them, there were never any issues with meal choices. Like water diluted with more water or booze mixed with booze, Ye-seul always went along with whatever Seonghwan wanted.
Especially during the peak stress of his third attempt at the entrance exams, she didn’t just match his meals—she tried to center everything around him. Not just meals, but locations too. Most of his life revolved around Noryangjin back then, so even when she visited to eat together or when he did library admin part-time on weekends near his place, Ye-seul never consulted him. She just decided on her own and casually let him know.
Seonghwan could easily guess it was her way of looking out for him, worn down by stress and fatigue himself.
“Come to think of it... we did eat it a few times in Noryangjin, right?”
Seonghwan recalled the gamjatang place from his third-year cram life as he thought back. Amid all the shops in Noryangjin claiming to be the original with their signs, there was this tiny one run by an elderly couple who looked the most seasoned. It became one of his regulars.
Toast or cup rice lasted a day or two, but after a month in Noryangjin, he started seeking out good eats. Drawn in by the warm broth aroma, he went alone, slurped up every last drop of bone hangover stew, and that sealed it as his go-to spot.
“A few times? How many exactly?”
Ye-seul teased him with a smile as nostalgic memories played in Seonghwan’s mind.
“Yeah, well... honestly, out of every three times you visited, I’d drag you there at least once. Hey, it was killer value though. I tried other places just in case? They gave two pieces of meat. Ours gave three.”
“I had no complaints. No off-flavors in their hangover stew, generous fermented greens, tasty kimchi. The place was small, but great for chatting over food.”
“As expected from food expert Yoon Ye-seul.”
As they chatted away, their ordered gamjatang started arriving at the table. Seonghwan lit the burner under it and asked Ye-seul, “Soju? Beer? Or soda?”
“Hmm... soju. Just one bottle for now.”
“Don’t overdo it. Yun-su’ll worry if you get wasted.”
“.......Yeah, got it.”
Seonghwan poured her a glass after ordering the soju.
“It’s been ages since we drank just the two of us.”
Ye-seul smiled softly as her glass filled.
“Yeah. Gotta have days like this sometimes. Oh, and it’s been forever since we watched a movie together too.”
“True. Especially a melodrama—you hate those. How was it today? Hope we didn’t waste your time.”
“Waste my time...”
It had been boring in parts, sure. He’d watched it lightly with Lee Hyun’s group as a time-killer, but today’s rewatch of a familiar rom-com felt draggy knowing the plot—cliché as they come.
Still, he couldn’t say that outright to Ye-seul.
“It was fine. Plot might be stale, but there were some funny bits, right?”
“Heh. Funny bits? You were too busy ogling the female lead.”
“Hey, that’s just guy instinct. Gotta have eye candy to make the movie worth it.”
“So you got your money’s worth today then. Especially staring wide-eyed at Shin Yu-hee all soaked—nearly burned a hole in the screen.”
“Shin Yu-hee...”
Six years ago, she burst onto the scene as a girl group member, idolized across entertainment boards by otakus. At 25, her singing, dancing, rapping—nothing standout. But in the idol world, she topped the charts on pure looks. The girl idol who passed trainee phase in six months on visuals alone. They could trash her skills, but never her face.
Then she switched to acting, and her true potential exploded. That’s all Seonghwan knew—didn’t care much beyond that. Even after the movie, his take was just “pretty.”
“Shin Yu-hee’s always pretty, but that drenched scene made your eyes pop. The wet hair, skin glistening just right... that subtle mmm. Even a pumpkin’d look like a watermelon then. And she’s no pumpkin—kyaaa.”
“You’re loving it. Wet hair and peeking skin... What about me then?”
“Huh?”
“I wore a swimsuit too. My hair was wet and glossy. Wasn’t my figure good enough? Hehe.”
Wha—?!
Just two weeks ago, Ye-seul in a one-piece swimsuit lounged on his sofa right in front of him—no awkwardness for either. But her blunt callback felt off from her usual vibe, leaving Seonghwan flustered.
“Uh... yeah, right, you were... not naked, I mean—fuck, what am I even saying?”
“Hohoho.”
Ye-seul burst out laughing at his fluster and topped off his glass.
“Just kidding. But it’s fun. Hehe. Let’s drink.”
“Ugh, man. Our Ye-seul’s got that seasoned charm now. Not the girl who’d blush and get shy when Yun-su and I teased her.”
They clinked glasses, downed them, refilled. Rinse and repeat, glasses chiming a few more times.
Finally, “Pfft. But our Ye-seul’s still got it. Seeing you in that swimsuit nearly made my eyes spin too.”
“As if I’m done for. When’ve you seen my true face to call me dead? People say Rapunzel, but I could be a siren if I wanted. Know sirens? Mermaids luring men in the water. Hohot.”
“Of course, of course. Guess I’ll call you Little Mermaid now. Where’s the tail though? Hahaha!”
The grill still brimmed with uneaten meat, but empty soju bottles rolled across the table just as plentifully. They’d had nights like this while Yun-su was enlisted. After his discharge, Seonghwan and Ye-seul—friends and friend’s-girl—had kept up polite distance, but now they were loosening up, passing drinks freely, shedding the facade.
“Hey, know what? That underwater scene with Shin Yu-hee? Not her body.”
“Huh? Not hers? Wasn’t the beach lying shot full-body?”
Seonghwan asked skeptically. Even gasping and soaked, those perky breasts were hers, and the close-up curves matched her face and frame perfectly.
Did she get implants? Women spot that stuff instantly?
“No, not that. The lying-on-beach after rescue is her, but underwater? Floating in the ocean—that’s a stunt double.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, I caught her on a variety show promoting it. She mentioned the beach shoot—said she has aquaphobia, can’t go in the sea. Used a double.”
“Whoa, didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. She almost drowned at sea once—left a trauma. Just like you.”
“.......Me?”
Ye-seul pointed at him with a grin as he pointed at himself in confusion.
“Yup. You.”
Trauma? Oh!!
White Day, racing to Incheon Pool Villa on her call, wild imaginings, putting on a show to get there. Grateful for the long trip, Yun-su suggested dipping in the pool. Seonghwan’s excuse: I had cardiac arrest at the beach once—trauma with water.
But no real trauma. Just didn’t wanna swim in water still marked by the other couple’s fun, and the memory was gone anyway—not trauma material.
Hmm... but did I ever tell Ye-seul about water trauma...?
Seonghwan eyed her beaming smile oddly, then shrugged it off.
Yun-su, you blabbermouth bastard. Spilled every little thing to her, huh.
“Double or not underwater, the beach shot’s her, right? Oof... that gasping, heavy-breathing pose—still killer.”
“Hey! There’s a lady right here? Show some consideration?”
“Pfft. Here’s some consideration with your soju.”
“Oh my, how kind. Then I’ll accept.”
Glasses refilled, promptly tilted back. Bottles piled up, but neither seemed drunk—faces still lively.
“Ye-seul, eat some meat here. We ordered it—don’t fill up on booze.”
“Nah, you eat it, Seonghwan. I’m good.”
“Good? I saw you eat one piece then ignore the ribs. Even if I love gamjatang, I can’t eat this much.”
“It’s fine. I’ll have fried rice later.”
“.....Fried rice?”
“Yeah. Mix it with the leftover broth. You said gamjatang fried rice is a must. Been waiting till you finish the meat.”
A strange nuance. The mood dipped subtly.
Seonghwan looked up at her. Lips curved, pearly teeth peeking. But her eyes halted his meat-filled plate mid-lift.
Three years as a trio, two as a duo. No telepathy, but her expressions spoke volumes. Time to get serious.
He set the plate down and met her gaze.
But... she was still smiling.
“It felt awkward, right?”
“Yun-su’s the only one clueless. Makes sense—hard to nitpick when you’re the one lying.”
“...So, since when?”
“Since you suggested the movie?”
Seonghwan indirectly probed Yun-su’s intent. And yep—Ye-seul had seen through their lame scheme, even before Yun-su’s theater acting.
Yun-su, you poor bastard. There’s always someone one-upping the jumper—you’ve just been piggybacking Ye-seul all this time. What a lame situation.
He grimaced exaggeratedly at her.
“Ugh, warn a guy. I’m dying of embarrassment here. Anyway, round two? Gotta fill the tank. No meat? Something else then.”
Booze went down easy now, but no snacks meant tomorrow’s regret. Seonghwan checked the wall menu for Ye-seul-friendly options.
Damn... menu starts and ends with ribs. Real deal alright.
Seonghwan turned from the menu.
“Uh... fried rice at least? We can skip the meat.”
But Ye-seul shook her head, looking fine.
“Nah. And... not craving it right now anyway. Just drink.”
“Ah... okay?”
Seonghwan lifted his glass, no more pushing.
But she wasn’t done.
“You said once, right? Gamjatang’s true flavor’s in the last broth.”
Haa... fuck.
He set his glass down.
“And you told me to feel if Yun-su’s the real deal.”
Memory like a vice. Korea University material.
“Wait six months and judge, you said at the end.”
Or maybe she’s holding onto it so she won’t forget...
“Time to hear my worries now, right?”
Seonghwan lifted his head slowly from his glass. Her unblinking eyes—staring since earlier. Embarrassed, avoiding her gaze out of shame, feeling pathetic, sorry she kept looking anyway—he could only give an awkward smile.
Best he could do for now.
“Spill. I’m listening.”
Time to get serious, he told himself. Those two—no, all three of them—couldn’t go back to how things were.