Power & Sex, and... 78
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"Who are you planning to back for real power in this party convention, Assemblyman?"
"For party leader, I'm thinking Kim Seong-gap from the supreme committee. For supreme committee seats, Jeong Sang-won and Assemblyman Park Seong-hwan, plus Han Seong-su."
"Isn't it one person, two votes for supreme committee?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"So who should we vote for in our district?"
"The delegates will have to decide that themselves."
"You still need to give us some direction."
"Look, officially, this is something I know nothing about. Do what you can to build momentum in our district for Jeong and Han Seong-su. If it looks like I'm pulling strings, people might start talking nonsense."
"You've been in this game long enough to know better..."
Monday morning, I arrived at the district office, and the Office Manager was already dragging out talk of the party convention. It was like playing blind man's bluff, but with bottom-up nominations being the official line, I couldn't openly tell delegates or party members who to support.
Reality didn't follow the rules, though. In most places, the district chair gave the orders, and delegates and members followed suit. That's why candidates in primaries worked so hard to pull even one more district chair to their side, forming factions in the process. Like it or not, I was building my own faction now, so it was time to start gathering people carefully.
"Anyway, thanks to you, Assemblyman, no one's gonna come down from Seoul buying drinks for this convention."
"I'll cover those drink tabs myself. Can't have the delegates feeling shortchanged."
"If you're gonna start managing your faction, your wallet's gonna be empty every day. We can't be picking your pockets too."
"If you can't hold onto the rabbits in your yard, people laugh when you chase wild ones. Our district delegates and members come first. Set up a drinking session on a good day so no one's left out."
I chatted with the Office Manager in the smoking room about the convention and district matters, then headed back to the office. Not just the on-duty staff, but quite a few core party members were there too—probably figuring I'd be in Busan on a Monday. I went around shaking hands, asking after their health, and begging for their continued support.
After excusing myself from the members and holding a quick meeting with the staff in the conference room, I sat in a circle with the party folks for some talk. I could call staff anytime, but these were people who'd come on their own—the kind of goodwill that made the next election easier. For a district rep, time with them was gold.
Before I knew it, lunchtime rolled around. I led them to a restaurant. After lunch with the members, I hurried off to meet the delegates for their meal. Since I'd started the members' lunch early for this, they were still eating when I arrived, so I grabbed a seat and started shoveling rice.
"Didn't you already eat lunch, Assemblyman?"
"I just had a light bite so I could eat with you all."
"Don't force it and make yourself sick. Just sit."
"Aigoo, you all hate me that much? Won't even feed me?"
"We appreciate it, but eating twice will just upset your stomach. We're fine—go easy. No one's gonna feel slighted if you ate elsewhere."
Politics' most awkward part was meals. It wasn't often, but during elections, you'd spend three or four hours a day just eating, sometimes two or three full meals in one go. Skip it, and the later groups felt snubbed.
Delegates knew this all too well, which made it easier. Still, they might feel a twinge, so I needed to show effort—forcing down the rice. Two lunches weren't a big deal.
"Saw you killing it on the news lately, Assemblyman. Why not run for supreme committee this time?"
"I'm still way too green. Gotta do three terms to even get politics."
"Aigoo, some say they get it after three years—three terms? That's twelve."
"That's how I see it. Might even feel harder by then."
"So who do you think takes party leader this convention?"
"You gotta open the lid to know, any election."
"Come on, you gotta back someone."
"I'm going with Kim Seong-gap this time."
"That guy's got no pull. Isn't Moon Uiwon a lock?"
"Moon's got the best shot. But after meeting him, our views don't align much."
"So who do we vote for?"
"That's up to you delegates. Bottom-up nominations are the trend, right?"
One delegate was really into the convention, and with over a month left, it hit me—this could be a fireworks show. If I played it right, it'd grab not just party members' and delegates' eyes, but the whole nation's.
If my backed candidates won leader and supreme seats amid that spotlight, my position would solidify big time. No reason to hate the attention.
"That guy's something. Just back whoever you back, and we'll pile on. What's this Moon guy?"
"If we all stampede to your pick every time, why bother with delegates? Just let assemblymen vote."
I was dreaming rosy when that shattered it. Some delegates were real pieces of work. I'd warned the Office Manager this morning to play dumb if it happened, but right in front of me? Absurd.
Couldn't scowl, though. Wasn't I the fresh face demanding party reform? I smoothed my frown into a smile.
"You're right. Delegates judge for yourselves. Top-down orders are over."
It burned inside, but no choice. I'd gauge reactions and exclude him next delegate round. For now, kept the "hands-off assemblyman" mask. Might need to purge types like him for primaries later. Good chance to scout district delegate leanings.
His remark soured the lively lunch, ending awkwardly.
"Sorry, Assemblyman."
"Why should you apologize, bro? Who recommended that punk?"
"Think it was President Jang. What the hell?"
"Good we found out early. Rebellion right before the general election would've sucked. Handle it smooth, bro. Check President Jang's circle too."
"Got it. Sorry, Assemblyman."
"Aish, drop the 'Assemblyman' when it's just us bros."
The unexpected mess had the Office Manager down. Natural from his spot, but every group has outliers. To lift him, I half-dragged him to the billiards hall—Youth Committee Chair included, of course.
No matter my teasing, his mood wouldn't budge. That delegate's jab hit him hard. Gave up, headed back. As always, I came last.
"You look like death, bro."
"Worse than that from my angle."
"Just one delegate."
"One becomes two, two four."
"Plenty of time. Use this to ID rebels, tighten up our loyalists."
"Sorry, man. I got no face."
"Keep that up, I ain't going back to Seoul. Cheer up~"
"But this convention—how?"
"A few rebels won't derail. Just between us bros—that Gwangju mess? Tied to those no-run guys. I hold their leashes; they'll behave to survive. No worries."
"They're not running anyway—what's life or death?"
"Politically, no run is death. But humanly? If they act up, they won't show their faces in Korea."
Only then did his face ease. He'd fretted over rebel votes tanking my supreme run. Always grateful for him.
Wrapped up with him, lighter-headed, left the office for home. Ate Mother-in-law's dinner, then to Busan Station for the Seoul train. Ara insisted on driving me despite my protests. Parked, hugged her soft farewell. At the gate, her eyes glistened waving. I'd wanted to part at home to spare that.
On the train, I texted to soothe her. Even so, she'd probably sob in the car a while before heading home.