The Thirty-Fifth Assignment: Between Sweet and Bitter ⑥

"Asking me to help write a reply? That's a first."

Yeoni clicked his tongue at the text. It was ridiculous that a man far more silver-tongued than himself couldn't even manage a single reply and was asking for help. Then again, he could understand. A chance like this dropping out of nowhere would startle anyone. He tucked his phone away and opened his notebook.

"Hey, we're in class."

"It's almost over anyway. Besides, this is actually pretty hard."

A few conditions went down in the notebook. This was a message to a woman who'd asked to meet, so it needed to be gentle. Yeoni thought the conditions through with care and wrote them out.

As always, they were difficult conditions. All the more so because drawing on his own dating experience wasn't much help. He and Dayeong had started as childhood friends, after all. Having to play the expert on something he'd never actually done himself — what assignment could possibly be harder than that?

"Can't you just help me out?"

"You think I know? I'm just as clueless."

Meanwhile, class ended. The professor left, their classmates tossed out goodbyes and filed out, and the two of them were left alone, groaning over their private assignment. But multiplying zero by zero doesn't give you a plus. They went around in circles and couldn't settle on a thing.

"Ugh, this is driving me crazy. Give me the phone."

In the end, Dayeong — whose boiling point sat somewhere near room temperature — took matters into her own hands. Before permission had even been granted, she snatched the phone, typed something to Changmo's number, and hit send. It was over in the blink of an eye.

"Wait, wait — what did you send?"

"I told him to figure it out himself."

"What? We haven't even decided anything yet!"

Startled, Yeoni protested. But Dayeong had her own case to make. She stuck out her lip in a pout and argued that all that agonizing had been a complete waste of time. One of the things Dayeong hated most was work that was neither fun nor productive.

"We wouldn't have come up with anything useful anyway. It's not like we have experience either, right? Starting from zero is the same for Uncle Changmo as it is for us. Better to just leave it to him."

"Still. Turning him down without even trying is pretty harsh."

"It's his romance, isn't it? If he wants to win her over, he's got to put in the work himself."

Up to that point, it was a perfectly sound, persuasive argument. Then she tacked on one unnecessary little addendum. Dayeong suddenly grumbled in a shrunken voice.

"I mean… we put in a lot of effort too, you know. Struck out plenty of times, but still."

Yeoni flushed at that. It really had been an unnecessary addendum. The sudden blow left them both silent, and then they hurriedly got to their feet. There was still time before the next class, but if they sat there any longer, the embarrassment was going to overflow.

"Don't zone out in your next class."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. You too."

"Got it. I'm heading out first!"

Dayeong hurried off toward her own class. Even a girl as put-together as she was apparently couldn't do much about embarrassment. Left alone without warning, Yeoni watched his girlfriend sprinting off into the distance and felt thoroughly awkward. His own face had gone bright red.

Get it together. Get it together!

He slapped his cheeks a few times with his palms, then pulled out his phone again. Just telling Changmo to figure it out himself sat wrong with his conscience. Afraid a complaint would come flying back any second, he started tapping at the screen in a hurry.

In the end it's the same message — we're not helping. Damn it.

Changmo flung his phone aside and rolled around on the floor. It felt like the very people he'd counted on had turned around and chopped him off at the ankles. Nothing they'd said was wrong, but to Changmo, who was racing against the clock, the disappointment hit harder. He rolled and rolled across the floorboards for a good long while.

"What a pair of cheapskates. Fine! I'll do it myself! I will!"

A good while later, he finally faced reality and grabbed his phone. He'd send it himself, one way or another. Changmo clenched his teeth and set his fingers to work, determined to craft a single line that would satisfy her.

Sentences were written and deleted. Doing it alone was no joke. He'd drafted countless work documents, but a letter carrying love and feeling — this was a first. Of course he wasn't used to it. If it had been paper, it would have been worn to shreds; he wrote and erased, wrote and erased, over and over.

Ugh. What am I supposed to send if I want her to say I did well?

Minutes passed with no progress. He tapped and tapped until fingerprints were etched into the screen. Even so, no message that truly landed in the heart took shape. It really was a difficult assignment.

"Ah, to hell with it."

At last, Changmo's lid blew off. Write it stylishly and his hands and feet curled with secondhand embarrassment; write it short and his pride as a player took a hit. He gripped the phone in both hands and hammered out a text with ferocious speed. Once he'd committed, he was astonishingly fast.

"Done. That's it!"

And he sent it without a moment's hesitation. For someone who'd been agonizing just seconds before, it was a remarkably swift decision. Naturally, the second it was gone, crushing regret set ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in. He should have thought it over a little more. But the water was already spilled.

…It'll be fine, right?

Now everything hinged on Seri. Would she accept his honesty, or would she be disappointed and kick him to the curb? He hoped she'd take it well.

At last the reply arrived. Complaining that it had taken too long, Seri unlocked her phone. She was eager to see what answer had come. But the anticipation lasted only a moment. An extremely short message met her eyes. She laughed, deflated.

"Huh."

The text Changmo had sent on impulse read as follows.

This guy is really direct.

Afraid that dressing it up with flourishes would only make things worse, Changmo had thrown a fastball right down the middle. He'd made it painfully obvious he wanted to see her. Normally, that kind of answer would cost him points. Seri hesitated for a moment over what to do. Seoah, watching from beside her, offered a word of advice.

"What? He answered way too easily. A guy's supposed to know how to dress it up a little. Isn't this, like, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a total bust card?"

"Well… maybe."

"If you meet him and he seems off, just drop it. Might be a prejudice, but guys who come on easy tend to leave easy, too. I'd be nervous about dating someone like that long-term."

Seoah offered the advice based on her own experience. Easy come, easy go. That simple proverb applied to romance as well. Seri's ears perked up. If she was going to meet him anyway, she didn't want to draw a dud.

And yet, somehow.

"Okay. I'll decide after I see him."

"That's not an I'll-decide-after-I-see-him face."

A faint smile had risen on Seri's face. Seoah pointed it out, grumbling. Having played cupid for her friends all this time, she understood exactly what that subtle expression meant. Seri gave her friend a bright little smile.

"You'll see later."

She picked up her phone again. She didn't want to drag things out, so she sent a text that was swift and contained only what was necessary. Changmo had kept it short, so she would too.

She sent the message. If she could ease her friend's worries and shake off those tiresome blind-date demands at the same time, she hoped a good answer would come. The light in her eyes as she watched the screen sparkled, luminous.

How long did she wait? The reply came.

"No suit this time either. You got that?"

"I know, I know. Just give me a proper recommendation already. Which one's better? This, or this?"

Changmo's place had been noisy since morning. The wardrobe stood wide open, and all manner of clothes had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been dragged out to stand under the light. Changmo and Yeoni were circling them, picking this and that.

Today was the day he'd arranged to meet Seri. From Changmo's perspective, it was the day he would finally take the first step.

"Last time you wore something in the red family… so this time, keep it simple with a white shirt. Black pants. And don't put on anything extra you don't need."

"What is that, just a suit?"

"I mean wear the pants comfortably. There are plenty of clean casual slacks. You've even got some already."

Yeoni pulled out a pair of pants. They were black cotton slacks with a straight fit — neat, yet soft. Changmo just smacked his lips, as if something about them disappointed him. In his mind, it was all the same. Yeoni firmly pressed the pants into his arms.

"Here! Put these on and come out. Hurry up."

"Can't I think about it a little more? This isn't some errand — it's a date."

"This is plenty sharp already. You're not planning to be late, are you?"

The bit about being late was the finishing blow. Changmo shut his grumbling mouth and took the clothes. His sulk hadn't entirely cleared, though; he wordlessly waved Yeoni out.

"Yes, yes. Got it. Change and come right out."

Yeoni left the room without another word. In the living room he found Dayeong, cosmetics spread out around her, lost in thought. She was deliberating over what to put on Changmo. Yeoni sat down beside her and picked up a bottle of toner and a bottle of lotion.

"Don't overcomplicate it. Just one of each. He's a guy — what's the point of slathering on a bunch of stuff?"

"That's not the same. If it were you and me, childhood friends, maybe. But he's going on a date with someone who was a complete stranger. We've got to pick properly. Two products isn't enough."

"You're thorough, I'll give you that."

Dayeong picked out an eyebrow brush and a cheek product. Yeoni's grumbling about whether this was women's makeup she cheerfully ignored. While she was checking the condition of the cosmetics, Changmo finished changing and came out.

"How do I look? I don't really like it."

Changmo grumbled, still unable to let it go. But the clean combination of white and black looked better than expected. Yeoni and Dayeong nodded as they looked him over. Yeoni even gave a thumbs-up, thoroughly satisfied.

"It looks good. Wherever you go, nobody's going to say you underdressed."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not. I mean it. Dayeong, you think so too, right?"

"Absolutely! You could walk into a party right now and you'd be fine."

What could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he do, when they genuinely liked it? Changmo forced his crumpled face to smooth out. Now it was time for makeup. He'd been thinking of it as casually as Yeoni had, so when he saw what Dayeong had picked out, he recoiled. He was supposed to put all of that on and go out?

"My face is going to be swimming in sweat."

"Sweat, nothing. This is the age of skincare, men and women alike. Chin up for a second. I've got to do your makeup."

Like boyfriend, like girlfriend — Dayeong prepared the makeup without leaving him an inch of wiggle room. Yeoni shoved him forward from behind. Changmo made a dying noise and did as he was told. The face he presented trembled slightly.

"Just don't make me look weird."

"I may not look it, but when I'm not at judo practice I do makeup all the time. Don't worry — leave it to me."

The makeup proceeded layer by layer, like stacking objects in order.

First she spread toner evenly across his face. She rubbed and patted so that no patch of dry skin remained. The lotion was the same. He was horrified by how generously she applied it, but Dayeong's hands never hesitated. She painted away as if Changmo's face were a blank canvas.

"Close your eyes for a second."

She touched his cheeks lightly, and last came the eyebrows. Changmo stared at Dayeong without a word. His startled eyes were saying, Do we really have to go this far? And Dayeong answered with her eyes in kind.

Shall I paint your whole face, or just the eyebrows?

Changmo hung his head, defeated. He could hardly go out looking like a lump of charcoal. The sound of Yeoni laughing under his breath grated on his ears. Damn couple, the pair of them!

Endure it. Endure it. It's for the date.

Sweetness required a measure of bitterness. In Changmo's mind, the character for endurance carved itself over and over.

The journey toward a date was more troublesome and exhausting than he'd expected.