Sandwich Porn
She seemed to love the novel just as much as she'd recommended it. Defending the author who'd run off and abandoned the serialization.
Come to think of it, I'd read the novel without even knowing who the author was. I wasn't deep enough into webnovels to recognize a pen name on sight, but it had given me something meaningful all the same. Worth remembering the author's handle, at least.
Jae-a didn't know what that weird word meant either. I'd figured a guy who wanted to write webnovels might have some grasp of community lingo, but no such luck.
He hadn't even sent the novel in the first place. So I'd assumed Jae-a would accept my proposal, but he fired back unexpectedly.
Jae-a wasn't wrong. That's exactly what I'd thought, and even after enjoying the read, I hadn't fully retracted it. If this absurd turn into a woman hadn't happened, I'd never have picked it up.
But I didn't say that and kill the mood.
If Jae-a was saying this much, I couldn't dodge it anymore. Didn't want to, either. After all the egosearch vitriol, insults, and downplaying of my novels, hearing this from a reader felt like rain in a drought.
What author could run from a reader saying something like that?
We'd keep the tutoring going. Just after my body recovered and things stabilized.
That wrapped up the chat with Jae-a. It felt like we'd glossed over something—he still hadn't sent that novel by the end. Plenty of time to ask later.
With a lighter heart, I pocketed my smartphone. Dinner time soon. The nurse would knock any second.
But a knock came instead. Only one person it could be.
~
"Hello, Seol-guk. Long time no see."
"Hi."
"I brought some snacks again. Is that okay? I got the nurse's permission."
"Sandwiches again?"
"Yes, sorry. Nowhere good to grab anything else. But I skipped the tomatoes this time."
She'd remembered I hadn't eaten them last time. Annoying woman. I did hate tomatoes, but hearing it from her made me feel like a picky kid. Not that it didn't suit my current looks.
A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. I took the sandwich and bit in deep. Barely half a man's mouthful from my old days.
Then I noticed the cucumber inside. I set it down and started picking them out.
Ham Ye-jin watched with a stiff face. Tense? Or did my cucumber-picking bother her?
Tomatoes were one thing, but cucumbers weren't picky eating. They were barely vegetables—hardly nutritious enough to qualify as plants.
Anyway, as I fiddled the cucumbers out, dirtying my hands, she pulled out a handkerchief once I finished and wiped them clean.
I let her at first, but it grated. Who taught her to grab people's hands like that?
Once my hands were dry, Ham Ye-jin spoke.
"Have you made up your mind?"
Here it came. I'd already decided. No identity laundering. I'd face down all this malice head-on.
It was a noble, exalted path—almost sacred in its austerity.
So why couldn't I get the words out?
"I..."
Ah, why wouldn't they come?
"I..."
"You're going with the identity wash, right?"
What did she hear in my voice? She spoke first. Her question made me realize again what I feared.
Just like the advice I'd given Muk Ha-neul. Easy path or hard path.
I feared the hard one.
The easy path might even be fun, happy. Someone might love me.
But I'd said it myself. That's porn.
The hard path would be full of suffering. All the world's malice aimed at me, chipping away until who knew what was left. I might shatter, break, fall, and never rise.
But that road was honorable. Only those who don't flee reach paradise.
Porn might look like paradise, but it's sweet poison. One slip, touch the pleasure nerves wrong, and you're devoured.
True paradise meant charging straight ahead. Nothing else.
My voice no longer shook. With firm resolve, I said,
"No. I won't do the identity wash."
Ham Ye-jin looked utterly flustered as she echoed,
"You... won't?"
"Yes. I won't. I'm going to live with my own name."
"...Understood. Could you wait a moment?"
She stepped out, phone to her ear. Minutes later, she returned.
"Who'd you call?"
"Truth is... we'd prepared everything assuming you'd go for the identity wash, so a minor issue came up. I just reported it. Nothing for you to worry about."
"Now you're making me worry more."
"Sorry. Anyway, if you don't want the wash, there's not much we can do. New ID, proof docs at most. Honestly, we'd prefer you took the wash."
"Why?"
Her face hardened further. She hesitated, then sighed deeply.
"Public opinion on you is pretty bad right now."
"I know that much."
"No, you don't. Reporters keep sneaking into the hospital, and there's even a national petition to punish you."
"National... petition?"
If I'd clung to optimism before, "national petition" shattered it.
"Good news is, it hasn't blown up, so signatures are low. Even if it hits the threshold for a response, Congress won't touch a case like this. But keep in mind public sentiment is against you. You could face terror attacks."
My face hardened too. Yeah, this country was dangerous for me now. But that wouldn't change my mind.
"Even so... no identity wash."
"...If that's your choice, nothing we can do. Sorry, but if something happens, we won't take responsibility. Got it?"
"Yes."
"I'll escort you at discharge. Nurse said dyeing's risky. I'll get a wide-brim hat."
To hide my hair. The press photos just showed a small girl with white hair in bed. They wouldn't know my face or build well. Hat should suffice.
"At least your small build and looks are a plus."
"...What’s that mean?"
Offensive as hell. My irritated tone didn't faze her; she answered calmly.
"People get fooled by appearances. Your current look helps more than hurts."
Like I should bat my lashes and charm them? Not what she meant, but that's how it twisted in my bitter mind. Pretty girls coasting on looks was one of the things I hated most.
Anyway, talk was done. I'd finished the sandwich mid-convo, and Ham Ye-jin gathered her things to leave.
As she opened the door, she turned back like she'd just remembered.
"Mind if I ask why no identity wash?"
I answered bitterly.
"'Cause I hate porn."