Heavy Body on Earth
My body felt heavy. Not from a hangover, but from all the fat.
Running my hand over my belly, I felt no chiseled six-pack—just thick layers of flesh. How the hell did I even build those abs? Three years of religiously hitting the gym and dialing in my diet, all that hard work down the drain.
I craned my neck, buried in double chins, straining to glimpse my toes. "Fuck..."
Standing straight, my gut blocked everything—not just my toes, but my damn legs. Bending over just made me look like a human stress ball trying a forward roll.
Where had my genetic gift of height gone? Now I was a 155cm lard-ass pig. As a Korean guy who'd overcome plenty of hardships, this was beyond the pale. No sane person could accept it. Who the hell could take swapping into a pig with similar height and weight numbers so casually?
I slapped my palm to my face, cursing under my breath. Even my skin was a pitted mess of acne.
"This is fucking bullshit."
At this point, it was almost impressive. If top 0.1% looks were reserved for stars like Cha Eun-woo or some idol, then bottom 0.1% had to be this body. A physique so rare, you couldn't find its match anywhere. Just my existence probably boosted every guy's self-esteem worldwide a notch.
"I'm so sorry... really... I'm truly sorry..."
A baby angel with pristine white wings hovered before me, groveling. She looked straight out of a cartoon Cupid. Her face scrunched in remorse, she kept apologizing over and over. It was the kind of cuteness that might make fans forgive any minor slip-up.
Not that it registered through my rage-blinded eyes.
"It's not something I could control... I'm so sorry..."
Yeah, yeah. The plight of a middle manager caught between higher-ups' orders. I got it. But this crossed the line, fuck.
The word "fuck" echoed in my skull, begging to spill out. Fuck.
"We'll do our best to compensate..."
My head throbbed. I pressed my fingers into my scalp. Lifting my arms made the flab on them jiggle. The sensation plunged my mood even lower.
*
Friday night! Those words alone carried magic that made your heart race, especially for guys in their early twenties with blood pumping hot.
I'd bounced between bars, hunting for a partner to warm my chilly side. Bluntly put, I'd gone clubbing with the boys.
"You know who got ditched, right?"
"Dip out on your own if you sense it. Don't cockblock the rest of us. Don't play dumb—you, yeah you. The one who got shot down hard and has zero game."
"Wanna die? Should I spill how you fucked up that group date last time and tanked the vibe? Guys, keep this asshole's drinks moderate. Unless you all wanna go home empty-handed."
"Sorry... I surrender... please, keep that one under wraps..."
"No way you haven't spilled that golden story yet? What's your price?"
I tuned out the banter, scanning passing girls. Hours ticked by chasing a hookup, midnight slipping into Saturday. Finally, we locked in a group of girls for a table share. We amped the mood, cracked jokes, pulled out all the stops. Then we each picked our targets and went for it... but
"Damn... why do girls with boyfriends even hit up hunting spots? Should've said something before we footed the bill... After we pay, then bail? Brutal."
I was the only one shot down. Bad pick on my part. Out of the group, just one had a boyfriend—and it was the one I chose.
Honestly, my success rate was solid. I'd handled the invite, after all. Rule among guys: the hottest dude in the crew does the asking. Skyrockets acceptance odds. My looks were solid enough that the boys implicitly acknowledged it—handsome face, tall, gym-built broad shoulders.
So why me? I floated the idea of round two, subtle-like, and boom—boyfriend reveal. She'd laughed and vibed during the surprise join, but felt guilty bailing on him now.
Ignorance is bliss, but knowing? No point pushing in front of the crew. I backed off quick.
Whish— The pre-dawn chill whipped my empty side raw.
I'd lorded my superior hit rate over them plenty. Karma's a bitch: their mocking grins as I walked solo.
With cash, I'd have hunted solo. But...
"Sigh..."
Broke college wallet had limits. Cursing my luck, I trudged home.
Click! Dark, empty studio. No need for lights. Pop out contacts and crash.
Quick face wash, then in the pitch black, I fished out my lenses by feel. Booze haze hit as I flopped into bed—lights out.
...
Buzzing murmurs— Deep sleep shattered by noise. Booze-deep slumber, yet it yanked me awake.
"...Swap... it!..."
Not my alarm or fire bell. Human voices.
I shook off the fog. What's this? No one's dropping by my place...
Bros all scored last night—no morning visits. And unfamiliar voices, pissed-off ones. That whiny customer tone from SNS rants.
"Swap it!!"
"No... it's... we have other options prepared. Please check them and decide..."
"Whatever! Swap it!!"
Voices sharpened. Fully awake now, the sight made me question if I was dreaming. I'd crashed in my studio... but everything was pure white. No objects, no contours—like a CG void.
"...Did I drink too much?"
Spotting the floating baby angel confirmed it: dream. The fat guy yelling at her sealed it—he reeked of undeniable presence.
How could anyone rage at such a cute little angel? Dude lived up to his looks.
"Ah! You're awake! See... the situation is..."
"Hey! You swapping or not?!"
"Eek! Just a sec! At least explain to this gentleman..."
Eyes clearing, I recognized him: Park Chanyoung, that infamous college classmate. Unforgettable name, unforgettable build.
"Why's he in my dream... what a nightmare... wait, does this count as a pig dream?"
College meant no blatant bullying like middle or high school. But ask anyone 'What about Park Chanyoung?' They'd dodge: 'Not really my vibe.'
Short version: he was the involuntary outcast. I wasn't close either—conversations countable on fingers. Slight edge: I knew him a bit more... but irrelevant now. Zero contact this year.
"Sorry, but this isn't a dream! Huh? It is a dream? Kinda, but it's real! This is actually happening!"
Damn, that quivering baby angel face felt vivid. Park Chanyoung's mug twisted uglier at my "pig dream" quip. Already ugly, now grotesque.
Then, resolute: "I've decided. I'm swapping. Gotta swap."
"Nooo! Hold on! Wake this guy from his hangover first!"
Clap! She smacked her hands. Booze fog and drowsiness vanished—crystal clear.
That's when it hit: this was no dream.
"...This is real?"
"Yes! Super, mega, ultra serious!"
She beamed, rapid-fire explaining as I sobered.
Summary: "Park Chanyoung's missing dad actually transferred to another dimension..."
"Yep."
"Beat the demon king, saved the world, got a wish from their god..."
"Uh-huh..."
"But he'd built his harem, immortality—everything he wanted. No urge to return to Earth, then remembered his neglected son..."
"Sadly..."
"Passed the wish to his abandoned kid?"
"Spot on."
"What? Jackpot! Free wish! Immortality, endless cash—boom!"
"Right... Normally folks wish that... It was on our list..."
Park Chanyoung's dad a hero? Envy spiked. God-granted wish!
But unease crept in. Why was I here? Seemed unrelated.
No reason for me to hear this wild tale.
"Issue is the wish..."
"Hey! Swapping or not?!"
"One sec! So... Park Chanyoung's wish is..."
Angel's face twisted in dread. Headache-level dilemma.
And I got why.
"To swap bodies with Baek Hamin from the same major..."
"...What?"
My name dropped—brain freeze. Swap what with what?
Glanced at Park Chanyoung. Fat. Ugly.
Back to angel. Avoiding my eyes.
"No way! Why ditch infinite cash or immortality?!"
"You! You think I'm ugly too! I didn't choose to be born this way! I wanted to be handsome!"
Stung, but I pushed back—silence meant doom.
"Even so, immortality?!"
"What's the point of long life if I'm ugly forever instead of 60 years!"
"Money! Plastic surgery!"
"Swapping with you—no wait, no pain, no recovery. Why bother?"
"But why me? What'd I do?!"
"Think I don't know you despise and mock me inside?! I know!!"
Bullshit! I'd never dissed him. We were strangers. Didn't track his campus life.
Pure delusion, inferiority. Jaw dropped.
"I... I'll live handsome like you, cycling through girls... living it up!"
"Never mocked or ignored you! Misunderstanding!"
"Liar! Sly bastard! That 'hurt' face is all acting! Fooled the world, but not me!"
"What!..."
True injustice silences you. He gnawed nails, glaring darkly.
No trust there.
"Heh... Girls'll shower you—money, gifts..."
Maddening. Brainstorm: convince him somehow.
"Chill! I'm handsome, sure, but not celeb-level. Wish for idol face and body? Girls'd love that more!"
"I want you, who mocked me, ugly like me! Cornered? Born lucky, no effort, just envy me?!"
No effort my ass! He knew zilch about my regimen.
Arguing facts? Futile, breeds hate. Stay cool— he's got the power. Stroke his ego.
His feeling: inferiority.
...Not baseless, admittedly. Middle school classmates. But I'd swear on my life: zero fault mine.
"Just cuz you're pretty... we were both outcasts... Know our difference? Looks only!"
His nonsense heated my head. Mouth roughened.
"Happy coveting others' achievements without lifting a finger?"
"With looks, I'd be fine! They judge before I act—what can I do?!"
"No excuses! Gym! Haircut! Skincare! Anyone can yap 'can't'!"
"Fuck... Handsome guys like you never get it... So you need to feel it—living ugly's hell!"
Do nothing, envy efforts. Sickening.
Even bare-faced, I'm no stunner. Bits add up to "refreshing guy." Flaws: bad eyes—no glasses (too thick, instant nerd). Daily mirror expressions. "What am I doing?" every 10 mins, still hour daily. Thin bones, slow muscle—abs took two years. Narrow shoulders...
Enough. Fuck...
One change: now I loathed his mindset, not looks.
"Heh... So even as me, girls flock, huh?"
"Fuck no! Not what I said!"
"See? Insecure! I'm swapping!"
His creepy stare. I shot the angel a desperate look.
"My say doesn't matter? No veto?"
"Well... Wish granted first, aftermath on heaven's tab..."
Dogshit logic, but fair. Sudden riches crash economy—inflation. Immortality? CCTV era, impossible to hide agelessness.
Wishes sans fallout? Rare.
...But acceptance? Hell no! No rights for me!
"Still... this wish has issues. We've been persuading..."
"Not my problem! Your cleanup!"
"What bullshit! Even wishes have limits!"
"World-saving weighs heavy... Godly pact between realms... We regret it too..."
Horror. "Regret?! Not final! Right?"
"No persuading him... Last shot: you convince. But as you see..."
"Not changing! Swap!"
Her tone resigned. Bad news.
This couldn't be real. Half-asleep lucid dream.
"Then... proceeding with the wish."
"Finally!!"
"No... stop!!"
"Sorry... out of our hands..."
Vision blackened. His giddy laugh in my voice rang in my ears. Blackout.
When I woke...
I was Park Chanyoung.