A Peaceful Day (5)
A Peaceful Day (5)
Everyone enjoyed the party and departed.
Only Dad, Da-yeon, Kim Tae-oh, and Park Ji-hoon remained in the party hall.
I headed to the storage room set aside on one side to check out the gifts I had received.
Eyes brimming with anticipation, I opened the storage room door.
At the very back sat what anyone could tell was a painting from Farzier, but there was another gift drawing even more attention—the enormous present in the center.
It was a gift bigger than my own body. Heart full of expectation, I unwrapped it.
Inside the meticulous wrapping was Secret Owner's gigantic playset, boldly marked in huge letters: 'Park Ji-hoon'.
Park Ji-hoon, wearing a deeply satisfied expression, as if he'd pulled off some kind of revenge...
"Th... ank you?"
"Yeth yeth, your big bro here put a lotta thought into it. Take pictures of yourself playing with it and send 'em to me, yeah?"
Park Ji-hoon smacked me on the back—whap, whap.
Normally I'd already have Pink Gold in hand, but... Dad was right there, so I couldn't pull it out.
Da-yeon caught on quick and tried to hustle Dad out of the room. Seeing this, Park Ji-hoon rushed over and latched onto Dad.
"Ji-hoon... huh?"
"Sir! Ayy~ Si-yoon's opening presents! You've gotta stay with us!"
"But Da-yeon said..."
To ease Dad's worries, I spread a serene, sage-like smile across my face.
"Dad, go on out for a bit~ I'll wait."
"Okay~"
"Sir!!! Don't go! If you leave, I'm seriously gonna get beaten to death!"
"Huh? Ayy~ How could our Si-yoon ever hit you? She's such a soft, delicate little thing."
"Wh...?"
Park Ji-hoon froze, thrown off by Dad's words. Dad said he'd be right back and left the room with Da-yeon.
The moment Dad made his exit, Kim Tae-oh dropped to his knees.
Sensing bloodlust, Park Ji-hoon spun around—just in time for my one-way-ticket-to-hell right-foot high kick to blast him square in the jaw.
""......""
I briefly considered waking the momentarily unconscious Park Ji-hoon with an even bigger shock, but simply handed him off to Tae-oh instead.
Maybe some old memories came flooding back, because Tae-oh naturally laid Ji-hoon flat and lifted his legs so the blood rushed to his head.
"Huuaargggh! Why'd you hit me, you crazy bitch!"
Sensing Dad about to come back in, I grabbed Park Ji-hoon by the head and spoke.
"Wanna die...?"
"No..."
Dad and Da-yeon came back in. When I asked what they'd been talking about, they said it was about my gift.
Generally, stepping outside without the person in question implies a secret conversation that shouldn't be revealed to them...
But this was Dad, who'd never told me a single lie in my entire life.
Checking the presents one by one, the sheer excessiveness wasn't limited to just one or two. Kim Seon-hwa's gift especially stood out—it was a car key that looked like it could get me to Mars.
Hanseong class...
A few days after the birthday party, I got into the Tasla Model X I'd received from Kim Seon-hwa.
A vehicle with a special order for forced manual transmission and customized entirely to my preferences...
The tail was wagging the dog. The tuning impressed me more than the car itself.
While driving back from Grandpa's house with Dad, I spotted a wide-open park.
When I pulled into the park entrance off a side road, Dad looked puzzled.
I picked up speed, worked the gears and shifted, pulled the handbrake and threw us into a drift—and nearly got smacked by Dad sitting next to me.
"How do you like a woman behind the wheel?"
"You're good at it, I'll give you that..."
"I told you, I'm never getting in an accident. I'm a woman who comes prepared."
Dad was speechless at the flashy dance of my hands shifting gears.
People might ask, what's the point of driving stick in this wonderful modern world...
But the appeal of a manual—how should I put it? The driving feel was just different.
It was the feeling of my body and the car becoming one. It actually felt like I was seriously driving, and it was hella fun.
More than anything, the instantaneous RPM of my borderline-illegal car—tuned and retuned via special order until it barely skirted the law—made my already-impressive chest swell with pride from the inside too.
It felt like my fading masculinity, worn away by this wretched reality, was coming back to life...
And with my hands so busy, the person in the passenger seat feeds me snacks.
If I bring Da-yeon along, it's absolute heaven.
Maybe Dad wanted to capture the sight of me driving on camera, because he started filming a video from the passenger seat.
Windows down, long hair flying, posture arrogant—the sight of me driving like a total alpha male once again set the internet ablaze.
"Si-yoon."
"Yeah?"
"Driving fun?"
"Obviously. That's why I'm doing it. Don't even think about driving whenever we go somewhere together, Dad."
"Ahaha, Si-yoon sounds exactly like your mom~"
Dad watched me park and nodded.
"I was thinking of signing you up for some driving lessons... but I guess Dad has nothing to teach you..."
"Dad, you don't know how to drift, do you?"
"That's a completely useless skill in South Korea, you know...?"
Dad handed me only the lightest bags.
"Tomorrow~ you're driving to school with Da-yeon~"
"Drive carefully. You get any points on your license and I'm confiscating the keys."
"Okay~"
When we got home, Alpha and Beta greeted me.
I crouched down for a moment and tapped Beta's nose—boop, boop—with my finger. Beta grabbed my hand with her front paws and tried to bite.
Watching me play with Beta, Dad tried the same with Alpha. Alpha hissed—haaak—and smacked Dad's hand away—bap-bap-bap.
The look Alpha gave Dad was the kind of look that, if Alpha could speak human, would have said, 'Piss off.'
But Dad didn't back down from something like this. He scooped up Alpha and bolted for the sofa.
That's my dad, forty-one years old this year.
First thing in the morning, I washed my hair, tied it up in a ponytail, and headed to the parking garage.
"Whoa~ This is the car Mom gave you!?"
"Yeah, pretty, isn't it?"
"Totally!"
Once we were in the car and I started driving, Da-yeon—who'd been watching me intently from the passenger seat—began taking pictures.
"Insane..."
I checked the photo she took of me. Me in my school uniform, hand on the shifter—it even looked alluring.
Maybe satisfied with her photos, Da-yeon eventually started recording a video.
Videos of me driving were way more popular than I'd expected.
When the driving video was uploaded to Neotube, its view count outstripped most of Dad's songs.
And since the song playing in the car in the video was Dad's, it didn't even get hit with copyright claims.
Da-yeon seemed to have filmed enough to her satisfaction. She put her phone down and started popping mustache-shaped crackers into my mouth.
When I playfully bit Da-yeon's finger, she yanked her hand back.
"Si-yoon! Stop it! No more crackers?!"
"Wow... I only did it 'cause I wanted to play with you, Da-yeon..."
"Oh...?! I'm sorry..."
Da-yeon started pacifying me, feeding me crackers again.
From the back seat, Park Ji-hoon and Kim Tae-oh stared at us with weird looks on their faces.
"What're you gawking at?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, what gives. Got a case of main character syndrome?"
"You two not getting licenses?"
"I have one."
At Kim Tae-oh's words, Park Ji-hoon reacted with violent speed.
"Huh?! Hey, you traitorous bastard! You were supposed to get yours together with me!"
"I never made that kind of promise with you."
"Wow, you cold-hearted prick... And here I thought you were my best friend."
"...I'm sorry. Still, I consider this and that to be separate matters."
"Tch, look at this guy getting all mouthy."
At Park Ji-hoon's words, Da-yeon whipped her head around and snapped at him.
"Why are you being like that to Tae-oh?! Unlike you, he's nice!"
"Yeah yeah, anyone listening would think you two were dating."
Da-yeon pouted reflexively, her face turning red as she muttered.
"I really hate Park Ji-hoon..."
Park Ji-hoon grabbed the back of Da-yeon's seat and shoved his face forward.
"You sulkin'? You sulkin'?"
"Go away."
"Ack, I'm sorry~ Should I buy you some snacks?"
At Da-yeon's contempt-filled glare, Park Ji-hoon flinched, hung his head, and apologized.
"I'm sorry!!!"
"Shut up, dipshit, stop distracting my driving."
With no activity on my Neotube account, the Chinese trolls who used to stir up shit whenever I gamed with Dubu had noticeably decreased.
More than anything, the extra shot I'd fired at the Chinese who'd been treating me like a traitor seemed to have had a big effect.
Not long ago, 'My Love Was a Gumiho' had been sitting proudly at number one on Chinese sites.
They were watching it illegally, of course, so Notflix came down hard with lawsuits, won, and started siphoning off copyright fees from them.
Notflix was already a global corporation too big to ignore, which also made it an awkward target for China to mess with.
My Love Was a Gumiho was structured so I received incentive payments as a percentage of its revenue, creating the ironic situation where China money ultimately flowed into my pocket.
And because the song proudly sitting at number one in China was also Dad's, I laughed scornfully and said:
"It's not like they're even covering their eyes and pretending not to see. They're just hiding behind screens and watching."
"For people supposedly too good for us, they sure have ears. Look at 'em sneaking listens to good music. This is why you always gotta filter out the zhongguo. What's the point of cussing us out and pretending not to listen? Behind the scenes, they're fuckin' wheezing, devouring every last bit. Spineless bastards."
My words prompted them to try launching a new Si-yoon Ji-ho boycott, so I drove the point home.
"The way they carry on, anyone would think they're paying copyright fees and listening legally. Know your goddamn place. They say the truly dangerous idiot is the one who doesn't even know he's an idiot~."
"And this so-called boycott's a damn joke. Not a single cent ever reached me from whatever you were watching anyway~ Just keep right on sneakily stealing it like always. I get it now—you can't shake that beggar's mentality."
Due to my remarks like these, many overseas commenters said that most of the Chinese who used to foam at the mouth over me had kicked the bucket.
That's when Dubu called for me.
-"Si-yoon, aren't you doing any streams?"
"I don't really feel like dancing to someone's orders just to scrape up chump change, unlike some people?"
-"That... don't tell me... you said that for me to hear?"
"Twenty coll if you call me sis for an hour?"
-"......You... a scandal's gonna find you one day..."
"Feel like I've been hearing that one for a while now? Anyway, youuu~?"
-"U-uh... sis... please just die..."
"Ahaha."
That evening, the one when I'd gamed with Dubu.
I had just finished getting ready to eat 'Extreme Tteokbokki' with Dad.
"Si-yoon... are you really gonna be okay?"
"Park Ji-hoon keeps teasing me, calling me a spice wimp, so this can't go on."
"But you... you can't handle spicy food at a..."
"...?"
I simply don't like spicy food; I don't consider myself unable to eat it.
Even if a little spice makes me go huffing and puffing and sweating buckets...
Well... in the past, Amy couldn't even bring herself to put spicy food in her mouth, either.
"Spicy stuff... you just get used to it."
I grabbed the 'Extreme Tteokbokki' that'd been getting attention lately for being deliciously spicy.
The color was aggressively red from the get-go—tteokbokki that filled me with unease.
It didn't look hot because it was deliciously spicy. It just looked hot...
The moment I smelled it, my body broke into a cold sweat, like an internal warning.
Seeing me go rigid, Dad couldn't sit still.
"Want me to cut it into smaller pieces? Or... do you want to try... rinsing it in water...?"
"Rinsing...? What am I, a kindergartener?"
Dad's words made me stubborn, and...
I shoved the tteokbokki straight into my mouth.
The foolish past me failed to realize that I shouldn't have done that.
I thought it was fine because it wasn't as spicy as I expected, but I should have noticed it was only because my tongue had gone numb.
I chewed a few times, swallowed with a gulp. Then I put another piece of rice cake in my mouth.
Looking back on it... I'd done well to listen to Dad when he suggested, just in case, that I eat some rice first.
Because if... I hadn't, it would've been a trip to the ER...
Around the time I was swallowing my second piece of rice cake. Dad, who'd been eating alongside me while monitoring my condition, seemed to notice something was wrong.
"You okay...?"
But, out of pure stubbornness, I convinced myself I was fine and didn't recognize reality until I'd put a third piece in my mouth.
Seeing my face turn deathly pale, Dad snatched the fork out of my hand.
"Si-yoon!!!"
The feeling in my tongue slowly came back, and with it, pain—climbing up in intense waves...
My entire body was instantly drenched in sweat, and I felt a pain like someone stabbing me in the side with a needle—'jab!'
'I'm fucked...'
Dad quickly stuck his hand into my rigid mouth, fished out the rice cake, and shouted.
"You've lost your mind!!! If it's too much for you, you spit it out! Why are you being so stupid!"
Even I, someone used to pain, felt like dying.
As the hiccups started, the scent of capsaicin wafted all the way up into my nose, and I felt like my face was melting off.
"Hic—!... Hic—!"
No lie, the pain rising deep from within was worse than the time I drank tear gas.
Purely physiological, tears and snot streamed down my face and my head swam.
"Haaahk...."
Dad peeled open a Coolbis and poured it into my mouth.
"Drink this first, and hold on a bit."
"Uuugh... I'm... hic! gonna die..."
"I told you not to eat it!!!"
I could feel the position and size of my stomach, the shape of my esophagus, and this boiling sensation rising up. It felt like someone had shoved a self-heating hot pack into my stomach.
I wanted to vomit it all back up immediately, but the idea that I couldn't even digest three measly rice cakes was just too ridiculous.
My heart was pounding, but I held it in, stuffing the cold rice balls Dad handed me into my mouth.
"You want water?"
I shook my head frantically and asked for milk.
"Miwk."
"Ahaha."
I was slightly annoyed at Dad's expression of finding me cute when I was soaked in snot and tears. But I was in so much agony it was even hard to breathe, so I just accepted the milk Dad gave me and drank it.
My vision was blurry; even my tears stung, and the tingling in my nose made it all so suffocating.
"Sweetie... want to throw up?"
"No..."
I was going to wipe my face with the tissue Dad brought, but instead made a beeline straight for the bathroom and shoved my face into the sink.
'This goddamn body...'
Who could I... blame anyway... It was a body I'd made myself...
Early the next morning, Dad woke me up.
Feeling my stomach churning, I headed to the bathroom.
Blowing fire out the back because of just three spicy rice cakes—I'm gonna lose my mind.
My asshole stinging and burning, it felt disgustingly uncomfortable and kept nagging at me.
I went back to my room for a moment, stuck my butt out, and let a mini fan blow air on it. Now I could live.
"Uuuuurgh..."
Just then, Dad, who'd brought some honey water, opened my door without knocking, then slammed it shut again in a panic.
"Sorry..."
I'd thought he'd scold me first for being unladylike, but apparently he knew it was his fault.
Anyway, with that angle, he couldn't have seen anything properly...
I threw on some clothes and went outside.
"You just open the door of your nineteen-year-old daughter without knocking? She's almost an adult?"
"I'm sorry..."
"Jesus. If it weren't me, you'd be in handcuffs, you know that?"
I drank the digestive medicine and honey water in Dad's hands, and sat down with Dad at the dining table.
"So, your thoughts on getting a look at your daughter's ass..."
From Dad's posture alone, I instinctively sensed he was looking for a beating. I repositioned myself in the chair, ready to run.
"I'm sick, you know? You're going to hit me when I'm sick?"
"....."
If you let your gaze travel up my firm, smooth, pure-white right thigh. A black mole sits nestled on the undercurve of my white buttocks, a point of allure.
Like a single dot placed upon a white canvas...
"So Dad knows where his daughter's mole is now?"
My words seemed to trigger something in Dad. The second my sentence ended, he lunged to grab me. I dashed to my room at lightning speed and locked the door.
"Open up!"
"Heh, I've never opened it up 'til now. Did you really think that's gonna change?"
"If you don't open it, I'm getting the key."
"Just try it! You know that means you won't exchange a single word with me for two whole days!"
"That's why I said open up!!"