Power & Sex, and... 35
‘Ding-dong~’ The doorbell chimed, and when Ara opened the door, a swarm of cameras poured into the entryway moments later.
The relentless barrage of flashes left me squinting, barely able to keep my eyes open, while Mother-in-law and Ara exchanged bewildered glances before hurriedly retreating into the rooms.
“Assemblyman, could you explain the details of the incident?”
As one reporter fired off a question, an uncountable forest of microphones and smartphones thrust toward my face, leaving me with nothing to do but sigh heavily.
“Reporters, please calm down for a moment and hear me out.”
I repeatedly asked them to quiet down without directly answering, and only then did the journalists fall silent, tense with anticipation, their eyes fixed on my lips as they waited for what I would say.
“In truth, this whole matter stems from a simple misunderstanding. There’s nothing here newsworthy enough to make headlines.”
“It’s been said you requested leniency for the perpetrators—is that true?”
“Like anyone else, I’ve had my share of hot-blooded youthful days. At that age, everyone makes mistakes, and those mistakes often become valuable lessons in life. I don’t want these young people, who still have bright futures ahead, branded forever over yesterday’s minor slip-up.”
“But isn’t it true that you and your wife were threatened and victimized?”
“It wasn’t that threatening a situation. Thanks to the police’s swift response, everything was resolved in less than ten minutes from the moment it started. If anything, this is a chance for me to express my gratitude to the officers who work tirelessly day and night to protect citizens’ safety on the front lines.”
“Did you or your wife sustain any physical injuries?”
“Not at all. The police arrived so quickly after the 112 call that there wasn’t even time for any bodily harm.”
In an instant, my in-laws’ home had turned into a press conference venue. Once the reporters satisfied their curiosity about yesterday’s events, they turned to Ara, who, despite being flustered by the flashes, handled it with the poise befitting a congressman’s wife.
“We understand there’s a significant age gap between you and the assemblyman. How did you two meet?”
Starting with a female reporter’s question, the tone shifted from the incident to prying into my personal life. Ara, having regained her composure, answered calmly, even flashing a relaxed smile now and then.
After about thirty minutes of back-and-forth, the reporters finally deemed their objectives met and surged out the front door en masse. Exhausted, half our souls drained away, we finally managed a late breakfast.
“Assemblyman, what happened?”
“It’s nothing major. Seems the Busanjin Police Chief blew it out of proportion for some reason.”
“No injuries, right?”
“None at all.”
“That’s a relief.”
Kim Sil-jang must have seen the news too; he called soon after. Once his call ended, Seo Jeong-ho and Park Seong-hwan followed, and shortly thereafter, Kim Seong-gap and Jeong Sang-won rang as well. Ara got calls not just from Eun-mi but from her friends too, keeping us glued to our phones for a while.
The morning news amplified the story even beyond the 7 a.m. broadcast. My statements were edited exactly as I’d intended, but the reporters wrapped up by emphasizing that while I’d asked for leniency out of goodwill, the perpetrators’ actions demanded severe punishment.
They piled on further, referencing how social elites and chaebol heirs lately drew public ire for their arrogant behavior backed by family influence, framing these youths outright as societal ills.
I couldn’t shake the suspicion that someone was deliberately inflating the incident, but since I stood to gain the most from it and hadn’t orchestrated anything, who could be behind this? The question lingered in my mind.
Since I was in Busan anyway, I had to stop by the district office. With plans to spend the day with Eun-mi and Jeong-ah, Ara and I headed there together.
“Everyone doing well?”
“Assemblyman, are you really unhurt?”
Thanks to the morning news, the office buzzed despite it being Sunday—not just with on-duty staff but also election volunteers and party members. As I entered, they all voiced their concern with worried eyes, asking if I was injured, so I had to explain once more that last night was just a minor mishap.
Reassured, the party members pulled up chairs and settled in. Under Ara, Kim Yeosa, and the Women’s Committee Chair’s lead, snacks were hastily prepared. Jeong-ah snapped photos as I chatted comfortably with the on-duty staff and members I hadn’t seen in two weeks. Eun-mi, who’d arrived with Jeong-ah, sat by the Women’s Committee Chair’s desk, watching me with a faint smile.
In the end, our morning outing plans were derailed by the unexpected visitors. As we talked over drinks and light refreshments, time flew until lunchtime neared. When Eun-mi offered to treat everyone to lunch as the late Hwang Seong-tae’s widow, the party members cheered and clapped.
After lunch, the members headed home, and we on-duty folks returned to the district party office for a brief meeting before leaving. Days like this, with party members showing such ongoing interest in my daily life and safety, solidified my confidence that I wouldn’t lose to the opposing candidate in the next election.
“Where to?”
“Honey, let’s just go somewhere close. It’s already past 3 p.m.”
“Sorry I couldn’t keep our promise properly because of this nonsense.”
“We can call Suji next time and all go together.”
We settled on heading to Songjeong Beach to gaze at the sea and sip coffee.
“Wow, so pretty! Look at that. It’s like sparkling jewels, right?”
Eun-mi exclaimed at the sea glittering in the sunlight. Ara and Jeong-ah remained unfazed, but Eun-mi, undeterred, kept gesturing and gushing. For locals who frequented the beach, it was nothing special, but for a Seoul girl who’d only seen crowded summer beaches like packed bathhouses before Chuseok, her awe was understandable.
“Oppa, you’ve been #1 on real-time search all day.”
“One idiot’s getting wrecked because of me. What a mess.”
The terrorism(?) articles about me that started in the morning kept amplifying bizarrely. Speculative pieces even linked it to how the opposing candidate in the last election had misunderstood my relationship with Ara and smeared me as shameless, with netizens sharing various linked articles on SNS, questioning ties between the perpetrators and that past rival.
“Honey, what really happened?”
“I have no clue either. No reason for it to blow up like this, and no motive for the media to push it so blatantly.”
Ara and Jeong-ah, seeing no downside for me, looked outright pleased, but the politically seasoned Eun-mi couldn’t fathom it and pressed for answers. I was just as baffled, reduced to saying it was absurd, with nothing more to add.
Or rather, beyond bafflement, I feared this might one day become shackles holding me back.
The mood grew heavy as we spent time together, but unable to bear the frustration, I left them at the coffee shop and descended the stairs at the end of Gudeokpo, watching the waves crash against the rocks.
If the situation had turned against me, I could at least strategize a reversal, but it was overwhelmingly in my favor—one-sidedly so—leaving me no way to flip it, just filling my chest with stifled thoughts.
I wasn’t some standout figure warranting special attention as a first-term assemblyman, nor had I suffered real physical threats or wounds requiring hospitalization from knives or blades. Sacrificing those young perpetrators on top of that defied common sense.
“It’s me, Chief Kim.”
“Assemblyman, what brings you at this hour?”
“I can’t wrap my head around today’s thing.”
“Yes, I’m puzzled too and looking into it everywhere.”
“Got it. Keep an eye on it, please.”
If even Kim Sil-jang’s investigation yielded nothing, it meant no ripples in Yeouido either. The press had no special fondness for me, and even if bad blood existed between the kids’ parents and reporters unrelated to me, this was overkill. I concluded it was time for me to make a decision.
Not out of pity for the two youths paying more than they owed for a momentary lapse, but because basking in this could backfire as backlash. I needed my own countermeasures—lest this be a ploy by some ‘potential enemy,’ a latent foe chaining me for later.
In such cases, getting drunk on the favorable tide could prove fatal. If those wronged youths’ lives later crumbled utterly, and whispers spread that the incident—mere happenstance, not a major event—had been hyped by invisible hands, ruining a young man’s future while I, politician Park Maru, reaped intangible gains and soared, there’d be no salvaging it. I’d be done in one ‘whoosh!’
Even if I stayed silent now, expressing sympathy for the youths, the public would dismiss it as ‘crocodile tears.’ Unwilling to spoil the women’s mood, I persuaded them and headed home—to clear my head and prepare for tomorrow.