EAR Ch 2
by soapaIn a rush to gather his belongings for class, Ryu Jaemin noticed that his phone’s battery had died and let out a sigh of relief. If Oh Seungpyo had caught a glimpse of the screen during their collision, it could have been disastrous. Thankfully, the phone being off meant that couldn’t happen.
At the academy, students had to turn in their phones upon arrival and could only retrieve them after class. The phone Jaemin handed to his instructor wasn’t his primary one but a “public use” phone. Regardless, he had no reason to take out either phone until he got home.
Ryu Jaemin had two phones: one for calls and messaging, and another—a deactivated phone—used only for internet access.
His parents, highly focused on education, had originally wanted to buy him a special phone for students, one that allowed only calls and text messages. But these days, communication with tutors, private instructors, and even school teachers often happened through smartphone apps. With group projects and collaborative assignments being common, a smartphone was essential for school life.
As a result, Jaemin was allowed to have a smartphone like everyone else, but his parents repeatedly emphasized not to misuse it. Misuse included internet browsing, gaming, and idle chatting with friends. They even conducted random checks on his phone usage, but they never suspected that Jaemin owned a secondary, deactivated phone.
The internet-use phone was an old device his sister had left behind when she upgraded to a new one. When Jaemin asked if he could have it, she had nonchalantly agreed, adding only that he shouldn’t tell their parents. She always sided with him in matters like these, being the type to roll her eyes at anything their parents said.
When she still lived at home, they’d occasionally grumble about things together, which Jaemin had liked. But after moving out in her sophomore year of college, she became increasingly distant. Now, with a job, she rarely visited, and seeing her had become difficult. Jaemin’s mother often suggested he stay in touch and meet her outside, but she and their father were too preoccupied to give him the time for such outings.
“Hello.”
“Had a good class?”
“Yes.”
Waiting for him outside the academy was a car. It was driven by the pick-up manager—an older guy responsible for driving Jaemin from school to his academy and then back home.
The title “manager” sounded fancy, but he wasn’t a professional study coach or anything. He was a college dropout working various part-time jobs to save money, as he planned to prepare for the civil service exam after graduation.
Some kids went home alone, while others had parents pick them up. Jaemin’s parents had opted to hire someone for the task. They might have preferred a private chauffeur, but they cared too much about appearances to risk being seen as overbearing parents.
“You’re working hard. Must be tiring with all that studying.”
“Everyone else is doing it too. You went to college, didn’t you? How’s that blind date you mentioned?”
“Oh, that? Got rejected. I think I tried too hard to be funny. Don’t overdo it in front of girls, okay? Just be natural—it’s the best approach.”
“I don’t try too hard in front of girls.”
“Yeah, yeah~. Handsome guys can get away with that.”
The driver sighed dramatically as he turned the wheel. Though they only saw each other on these drives, Jaemin enjoyed their brief conversations. At home, he constantly felt the need to watch his words, but with the driver, he could chat freely without worrying about the atmosphere.
“See you tomorrow,” Jaemin said as he got out of the car.
“Yeah, see you.”
After saying goodbye, Jaemin let out a light sigh and opened the door to his house. The spacious home was eerily quiet, with even the TV turned off, but the stillness was broken by the sound of movement. His mother was in the living room and was the first to greet him.
“Jaemin, you’re home?”
“Yes.”
She was holding a water glass, having just taken her usual painkillers. Jaemin’s mother had a sensitive personality and often suffered from headaches. She spoke to him softly.
“I’m not feeling well today, Jaemin. I’d like some quiet if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Are you all right?”
“Of course.”
“What about Dad?”
“In his study. You said you had a test at the academy today.”
“Oh. The results will be out tomorrow.”
Jaemin hadn’t mentioned the test, but his mother already knew. He hated moments like this the most. Nodding, he placed his bag in his room and headed straight to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror looked unusually blank today. After showering and changing, he stepped out to find the living room empty and quiet.
If both parents were in the living room, the atmosphere would usually be tense, but with no one around, today wasn’t so bad. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, Jaemin quickly retreated to his room. He didn’t want to come out unless absolutely necessary.
Standing in the empty living room, he raised his voice for effect. “I’m going to review today’s lessons and head to bed. Good night.”
Even if nothing special was said, just being in the same space as his parents at home made him uncomfortable. He thought about how, once he got into college, he could live alone like his sister.
Jaemin pulled out his second phone, hidden deep in his bag, and plugged it into the charger, which he’d stashed in an inconspicuous spot to avoid detection in case someone suddenly walked in.
While the phone charged, he opened his academy textbooks. Saying he’d review wasn’t a lie; revisiting the day’s lessons was as habitual as breathing for him. After that, he allowed himself 10 to 20 minutes on his second phone for a quick internet session. It didn’t take much time and was an effective way to unwind before bed.
Once he finished studying, he picked up the fully charged phone. Jaemin tilted his head in confusion—there were no notifications. Normally, after posting a photo, at least a few comments would appear.
“Why are there no alerts?”
Muttering to himself, Jaemin noticed something far more concerning: the lock screen wallpaper was different from usual.
The wallpaper had always been the default one that came with the phone, but now a vivid photo of the open sea, with waves crashing as if taken from a boat, filled the screen. While it was an impressive view in any other situation, it made his heart sink now.
He tried unlocking the phone with facial recognition, but it didn’t work. He then entered his passcode, only to be met with an error message and a vibration.
Desperately hoping the phone was malfunctioning, Jaemin kept entering the same number, only for the device to stubbornly reject it every time. The reality—that this wasn’t his phone—was now undeniable, but his mind refused to accept it.
“…”
Staring blankly at the device, Jaemin eventually set it down and hurried to his laptop. Normally, he’d be feeling sleepy by this time, but with his pale face, any trace of drowsiness was gone.
He quickly typed a URL into the browser, and the SNS login page appeared on the screen. Entering his username and password, he completed the login process, only to gasp in shock.
The notification count in the messaging tab had reached three digits. Jaemin wasn’t the type to get many interactions on SNS, even after posting. At most, he’d receive fewer than 20 notifications. This was undoubtedly abnormal.
***has commented on your post.
The notifications kept flooding in. For an account that rarely saw much traffic, such a surge could only mean one thing—he’d made a mistake and was now being criticized for it. Something had gone wrong.
But no matter how hard he tried to recall, Jaemin hadn’t posted anything that could cause trouble. Today had been a completely ordinary day. The only unusual events were the rain and bumping into Oh Seungpyo when leaving the abandoned building.
So… it had to be that. Their phones must have gotten switched. There was no other explanation.
“Please… He couldn’t have seen it, could he?”
Jaemin swallowed hard. Unable to bring himself to check the notification tab, he nervously inspected the phone he had taken home, presumably Oh Seungpyo’s. The screen displayed several message alerts, but there were no signs of missed calls during the time the battery had been dead. Did this mean Oh Seungpyo hadn’t even realized his phone was missing?
Jaemin turned his attention back to the laptop screen. For Ryu Jaemin, the top student at Illyang High School, this situation threatened to expose a secret he’d worked hard to keep hidden: he was running an anonymous SNS account.
The account hadn’t started with this purpose. Initially, it was created as a private outlet—a space to vent frustrations from home or school, almost like a diary. Jaemin had carefully chosen a platform where he wouldn’t have to upload photos, where few of his peers participated, and where anonymity was guaranteed. He had even crafted an unfamiliar username for the account.
After setting up the account, he’d spent time reading others’ posts out of curiosity. Sometimes he explored posts recommended by AI, while at other times, he searched specific terms and browsed the resulting content aimlessly. It was fascinating to see how people used SNS in various ways—some treated it like a diary, just as he did, while others shared drawings, stories, or even reviews of restaurants and travel photos.
For Jaemin, reading these diverse posts was an enjoyable escape. He often didn’t have the time to read novels or comics online, as they required more than a few minutes to get into. SNS, however, offered bite-sized content that was updated frequently, making it convenient to browse even for a few seconds.
Talking about himself was uncomfortable, even after creating the account. When he was angry because of his parents, when school suddenly felt unbearably tedious, or when there was yet another test tomorrow…
At times like these, he would write a few lines, only to feel uneasy about leaving impulsive emotions in writing and delete them a few days later. As a result, Jaemin’s account remained empty for a long time even after its creation.
The unexpected discovery of a completely different type of account happened when Jaemin was searching for a topic of interest. Like finding a bottle or a shoe caught in the net thrown out to catch fish, it appeared amidst ordinary search results.
The account was filled with provocative photos of a faceless person and all sorts of vulgar conversations exchanged with strangers.
At the time, Jaemin had been so shocked that he immediately turned off his phone, but the account lingered vividly in his mind for a long time afterward. Eventually, with a heartbeat as nervous as when he lied to his parents, he uploaded his first photo to his previously empty account.
Why it had such an impression on him, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because of the obscene photos, or the rough words people wrote. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of sexual topics, taboo in his household, being discussed without filters. Or it could have been the thrill of betraying something he deemed important.
Whatever the reason, Ryu Jaemin ended up committing a secret mistake.
Jaemin steadied his trembling hands and clicked the notification icon. Messages that had piled up while he was at the academy scrolled down in a list.
“F***ing cheap bastard, trying to act expensive. Is this all you’ve got?”
“Your nipples are hard. Want me to suck them? Interested?”
“You just showed your chest, but it’s so sexy. Seriously, aren’t you doing offline stuff? Let’s do it once.”
These were the usual types of comments. At first, Jaemin hadn’t even understood what they meant, but now he had grown accustomed to the harassment and crude jokes.
The latest post above these comments was a photo Jaemin had uploaded before heading to the academy: a picture taken with his school shirt completely unbuttoned, exposing both nipples. Naturally, his face was cropped out. Below the photo was a simple caption:
“I remembered XXX asking to see something on a rainy day, so I took this. It’s on the rooftop of an abandoned building. It’s too cold to take everything off.”
Someone had once requested, “Take an outdoor exposure photo on a rainy day.” It was someone who left relatively polite comments under Jaemin’s photos. Today, it just so happened to rain, and he had some spare time before going to the academy.
Having seen enough of these requests and accounts, Jaemin understood what kind of photos they were asking for. But he couldn’t get soaked in the rain and show up at the academy drenched. Nor could he risk taking real street photos—it was dangerous.
So he had entered the rooftop of an abandoned building where no one would come and taken what he thought was thrilling enough. Honestly, it wasn’t even that explicit. At school, boys who played sports often took off their shirts when it was hot. What Jaemin posted wasn’t even fully nude.
“Ah…”
Jaemin sighed and scrolled down. Every comment had replies under them.
Typically, Jaemin only uploaded posts and photos without replying to every comment. Sometimes he ignored annoying remarks entirely, leading to complaints about why he didn’t respond.
But today was different.
“F***ing cheap bastard, trying to act expensive. Is this all you’ve got?”
└”Guess he’s broke. Not even selling to you.”
└”I work at a state-run company with a $50k salary, LOL. Are you doing anything behind the scenes with those photos?”
└”No negotiations under $1 million, peasant.”
“Your nipples are hard. Want me to suck them? Interested?”
└”I’m very interested in beating up perverts.”
└”Do you like spanking? Want me to spank you instead?”
└”First, 100 direct kicks to your face, then we’ll talk.”
“Are you really a high schooler?”
└”I’m a 50-year-old man who borrowed my son’s uniform for a walk…”
└”You joke too much. Does a 50-year-old have such smooth skin, LOL?”
└”It’s a filter, you idiot.”
“You just showed your chest, but it’s so sexy. Seriously, aren’t you doing offline stuff? Let’s do it once.”
└”Yeah, your chest looks like pork belly.”
└”If you go offline with me, you’d want to keep doing it~ haha.”
Usually, this person was the one persistently begging for offline meetups under Jaemin’s photos. Today, amidst the taunting replies, he had even posted a photo: an explicit image of himself.
(Presumably) Oh Seungpyo didn’t add any particular comment to the photo. Instead, he replied with a GIF of a sausage being sliced with a mandoline, endlessly looping. The man who had suggested meeting offline didn’t comment further after that.
Jaemin scrolled down to check the long string of replies below, his face turning pale. He opened a bottle of water and drank directly from it without pouring it into a cup.
This was why the notification panel had exploded. The people who were mocked in the replies obviously didn’t stay silent and left angry comments, and the uninvited guest on Jaemin’s account continued to provoke them with more replies, taunting them.
“Is this really Oh Seungpyo?”
Who else could it be? It had to be that Oh Seungpyo, but really?
Jaemin, feeling dazed, shook his head and forced himself to focus. What should he do first? While he was staring blankly at the monitor in a panic, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes!”
His voice instinctively rose. The door opened silently, and Jaemin’s father stepped in.
“I thought you might be asleep… Are you using the computer at this hour?”
“I needed to check something for my online class.”
His father walked over to Jaemin’s desk. After confirming that the lecture screen was indeed open on the laptop, he patted Jaemin on the shoulder encouragingly.
“If you look at screens before bed, you won’t sleep well. Turn it off and go to bed.”
“Yes, I was just about to.”
Jaemin managed a casual smile, and only then did his father leave the room.
Jaemin let out a deep sigh only after confirming that his father’s footsteps had faded down the hallway. His pounding heart felt like it was going to explode. Honestly, deceiving his parents wasn’t that difficult. But the anxiety that followed was unavoidable.
He minimized the lecture window and brought up the social media page again. The troll, who he suspected to be Oh Seungpyo, was still awake, engaging in heated exchanges and mocking the people who replied to him.
“This is insane.”
The sudden appearance of his father seemed to have helped Jaemin regain some composure. He immediately took action. He went into the account settings, changed the password, and clicked the account deletion request button. For now, this would erase the primary evidence.
“What should I do at school tomorrow? Should I approach Oh Seungpyo first? Or will he act like nothing happened?”
If, by any chance, it wasn’t a mix-up with their phones, he could end up exposing himself unnecessarily. While Oh Seungpyo seemed like the only possible culprit, there was still a slim chance it could be someone else.
“But what if it really is Oh Seungpyo?”
…What could he do? He’d have to deny it wasn’t his account, no matter what.
The phone was a reset device, with no number or registration tied to it. The anonymous account didn’t contain any personal items or identifiable photos, and he’d always deleted the pictures after uploading them, leaving nothing saved. If he denied it, even Oh Seungpyo wouldn’t have any proof.
Thinking about him brought back the startled expression he’d seen in the evening. His wide eyes seemed to ask, Why are you here? It was a look Jaemin had never seen on him at school.
Tall, good-looking, smart, and well-liked, Oh Seungpyo was someone everyone at school knew. If Ryu Jaemin was “the top student,” Oh Seungpyo was just Oh Seungpyo—a name that explained itself.
Jaemin knew that whenever they were in the same space, Oh Seungpyo struggled to completely hide his displeasure. It was no surprise; apparently, he used to consistently rank first in middle school, but now Jaemin was beating him in every exam. Even without him saying it outright, Jaemin could guess how annoying that must be.
If he finds out about this when he already doesn’t like me…
Jaemin tossed and turned in bed. He tried to calm himself, but it was hard to fall asleep.
📚
After barely sleeping through the night, Jaemin woke up feeling foggy-headed.
It’s hard to focus on a day like this—what a problem. Before Jaemin even sat up in bed, he heard a knock at the door.
“Jaemin, are you still asleep?”
“I’m up.”
Because he had a restless night, he overslept slightly. By the time he quickly opened the door, his mother, fully dressed and ready to head out, was standing there.
“Your dad and I are busy too. Even if you can’t wake up on your own, you should get up when you’re called.”
“Sorry.”
“Your dad already left. I need to go now too; today’s meeting place is far.”
“Okay, have a good day.”
“I told you last night I’d be leaving early. You must have forgotten. Don’t be late today.”
Without waiting for a response, his mother gave Jaemin a once-over that showed mild disapproval and left the house.
Thinking things over all night wouldn’t solve anything, and he should’ve at least gotten proper sleep. Regretting the previous night, Jaemin hurriedly washed up and got dressed. He turned on his laptop to check his account. The deletion request had been approved overnight, and the monitor now showed a simple message: “This account does not exist.” No photos, no comments—nothing.
The account wasn’t particularly meaningful to him; it was more like an emotional garbage bin. Still, losing a space he had run for about a year, even against his will, didn’t leave him in a great mood.
As Jaemin put on his shoes by the door, the housekeeper—who had been working at their home for over two years, a rarity in a household where housekeepers often changed—came to see him off. Jaemin felt more at ease with her than with his parents.
“See you later.”
“You hardly eat home-cooked meals, and now you’re skipping breakfast? Take this and eat it at school.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t sleep well last night, so I don’t have much of an appetite. Thank you, though, Auntie.”
“Did you stay up studying? The professor told me to make sure you eat breakfast before heading out…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell him I ate well and went to school.”
Jaemin responded with a smile, and the housekeeper smiled back, though with a trace of concern. After saying his goodbyes, Jaemin left the house. As soon as the front door closed, his smile disappeared, and he let out a deep sigh.
For the first time, he felt nervous about stepping through the school gates.
Jaemin was almost never absent or late, nor had he ever been scolded for minor infractions like improper attire. He’d never hesitated like a guilty person at the school gates either.
“Ryu Jaemin, what are you doing?”
Someone tapped Jaemin on the shoulder as he hesitated at the gate. Turning around, he saw a few classmates standing there, their breaths visible in the cold air.
“Oh, nothing.”
“You’re a bit late for you, huh? It’s freezing. Let’s go inside; it’s better than standing out here.”
Jaemin nodded and walked alongside them. They weren’t particularly close friends, nor did they know his situation, but just being with them gave him a fleeting sense of having allies.
Of course, it was an illusion. If these classmates ever discovered his secret account, they would undoubtedly treat him like trash. While it was unlikely to ever happen, the thought lingered.
They entered the hallway and climbed the stairs to the first-year classrooms. As they reached the landing, cheerful voices echoed.
“Did Oh Seungpyo lose his phone?”
“No wonder he ignored my messages yesterday.”
Jaemin stopped abruptly without realizing it. The classmates walking with him turned back.
“Ryu Jaemin, what’s wrong?”
Hearing his name called, Oh Seungpyo, who had been chatting with his friends further down the hall, quickly glanced in Jaemin’s direction.
Their eyes met for a brief moment. Oh Seungpyo, wearing an expression somewhere between neutral and amused, stared at Jaemin before looking away. Another student asked Oh Seungpyo a question.
“Did you try calling it?”
“Not yet. The battery was dead when I last had it. I doubt anyone would answer.”
“They might’ve charged it. You should still try. What if you can’t find it?”
“If I can’t, I’ll just get a new one. I’ve had it for a while, and the contract’s up anyway. It’s not like I have anything on there I wouldn’t want others to see.”
Jaemin and his classmates walked past Oh Seungpyo’s group. At the words “nothing I wouldn’t want others to see,” Oh Seungpyo glanced at Jaemin again. Jaemin clenched his teeth.
Just act like you don’t know.
If he didn’t care about losing it, there was no need for Jaemin to return it either. Unless Oh Seungpyo made the first move, Jaemin had no intention of giving himself away.
But as Jaemin sat down at his desk, he changed his mind again. It seemed better to casually start a conversation while returning the phone.
If Oh Seungpyo had already seen the account and made cryptic comments like earlier about “things others shouldn’t see,” dragging this out would only leave Jaemin agonizing alone. His head ached more than when he wrestled with unsolvable problems. Maybe his mother, who often took painkillers for headaches, felt the same way.
“Ryu Jaemin! Hey, Ryu Jaemin!”
A classmate’s voice pulled Jaemin out of his tangled thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“Could you show me the solution to the last math homework problem from yesterday?”
“Sure, hold on.”
Normally, his books would already be laid out on the desk, but Jaemin only then began organizing them. The classmate standing nearby asked again.
“Are you really okay? You don’t look too well.”
“I think I just have a bit of indigestion from breakfast. Here you go.”
“Thanks! I’m so glad you’re in our class.”
Some people praised Jaemin for being kind, saying most studious kids disliked sharing their work. But Jaemin didn’t think of himself as particularly kind. He just didn’t see a need to fuss over something as minor as sharing homework answers for supplementary classes. After all, the kids borrowing his homework couldn’t threaten his academic standing.
“Take your time.”
“Got it. I’ll give it back soon!”
Watching the classmate walk off with his notebook, Jaemin finally began organizing his desk. Normally, sitting at his desk and pulling out his books at school made him feel calmer than staying at home, but today was an exception. Until the issue with Oh Seungpyo was resolved, he would remain unsettled.
“Aren’t you eating?”
“No, I think I’ll skip today.”
“Ryu Jaemin isn’t feeling well today.”
As lunchtime came and Jaemin remained seated, a few classmates asked how he was doing. Despite barely nibbling on breakfast and coming to school, his gloomy mood persisted even into the lunch break.
Instead of going to the cafeteria, Jaemin headed to the school store. Though he had no appetite, skipping lunch entirely would leave him too hungry to focus during afternoon classes, so he decided to buy a chocolate milk to tide him over.
Most students ate lunch in the cafeteria, but quite a few came to the school store to grab bread or ramen for their meal. While many schools no longer had stores, Ilyang Boys’ High still did. During vacations, it was only open for an hour at lunchtime. The school’s cooperative ran the store, selling eco-friendly snacks not typically found in supermarkets or convenience stores.
“These steamed buns from the store taste awful.”
“Yet you keep eating them.”
Ignoring the chatter around him, Jaemin chose an eco-friendly brand of chocolate milk, only available at the store, and went to the counter. Another student in uniform was already standing there.
“Six hundred won. Not eating lunch?”
“No, I’ll just have milk today.”
The storekeeper, coincidentally Jaemin’s classmate, rang up the milk. As Jaemin absentmindedly handed over the money and turned to leave, he froze once again, just like that morning.
It was because he made eye contact with someone walking through the store entrance. That person, who he somehow kept running into today, was Oh Seungpyo.
Seungpyo glanced briefly at Jaemin before walking silently to the display shelf. After scanning the neatly arranged bread, he picked one with a long sausage inside and asked at the counter, “How much is this?”
“All bread is a thousand won.”
As Seungpyo headed to the counter, his friend hesitated, seemingly troubled.
“Should I get bread too? But if I do, I might not have enough money for the PC café later…”
“Just get it. I’ll pay.”
Seungpyo’s friend gleefully picked a bread and placed it on the counter with Seungpyo’s. For some reason, Jaemin stood there holding his milk, unable to leave the store. Meanwhile, Seungpyo tore open the plastic wrapping, took a bite of the sausage sticking out, and chewed.
Jaemin lowered his gaze. Ridiculously, the GIF of a sausage being cut that Seungpyo had posted (almost certainly) with a perverted comment yesterday came to mind. He thought it’d be better to leave the store, but part of him worried Seungpyo might say something weird again, so he hesitated. Next to Seungpyo, his friend opened a bread bag and spoke.
Worried that Oh Seungpyo might say something strange again, Jaemin couldn’t bring himself to leave easily. The friend next to Seungpyo, who had just opened a bread bag, spoke.
“I don’t know about the other bread, but the sausage bread here is really good.”
“I heard people sometimes post online about wanting to buy bread from our store.”
“Yeah, it’s surprisingly popular.”
“Hey, do you use social media?”
At the sudden change of topic, Jaemin nearly dropped the milk he was holding. Seungpyo’s friend, oblivious to Jaemin standing at a distance, answered the question innocently.
“I used to use it sometimes, but since starting high school, I barely do. Isn’t it boring at an all-boys school? Why don’t you use it? If you posted, you’d probably get tons of comments.”
“I used to. Nowadays, I’m just too lazy. But watching someone else use it makes me wonder if it’s really that fun.”
“Who?”
“Oh, just someone.”
Listening to their conversation, Jaemin actually felt calmer. He quietly opened his milk carton, inserted the straw, and began drinking. The chocolate milk, known for its high organic milk content, provided a sugary boost to his brain. Meanwhile, the conversation between Seungpyo and his friend continued.
“What about your phone? Haven’t you called it yet?”
“I don’t know. If the person who picked it up wants to return it, it’ll come back.”
“You’re so laid-back.”
“My brother lost his wallet after drinking once, but the person who found it left it at the police station, and he got it back.”
Finishing the milk in one go, Jaemin mentally removed the “assumption” he had been attaching to Oh Seungpyo’s name while considering various possibilities in his head.
“This is basically his way of telling me to make the first move.”
Oh Seungpyo. Even if people didn’t recognize the name immediately, when someone added descriptions like “the tall, good-looking guy from Class 4,” “the one good at soccer,” “the one good at basketball,” or “the guy who almost became a celebrity,” everyone would say, “Oh, him.”
Yes, I know. I’m amazing. It was as if those words were written across Oh Seungpyo’s forehead. However, there was one situation where the confident signal of arrogance disappeared from his expression: when he stood in front of Ryu Jaemin.
And yet, today, even in front of Jaemin, Seungpyo was acting more confident than usual—no, even more so. Meeting his gaze without flinching this time, Jaemin bit the tip of the straw a few times before throwing it into the general waste bin. After separating the empty milk carton into the paper recycling bin, he finally left the store.
He would need to think more about the method, but he had already decided what to do. Continuing to feel anxious and watchful wasn’t an option. While people praised Ryu Jaemin for his calm and easygoing nature, saying it didn’t match his top-student status, the real reason Jaemin consistently held the number one rank in school was simple: he didn’t like losing.
If someone were to find out about it anyway, maybe it was better that it was Oh Seungpyo. At least he didn’t seem to have any immediate plans to spread rumors or inform the school.
Of course, it wasn’t out of consideration for Jaemin. The reason was clear. While he could hold something over Jaemin, he could enjoy a sense of superiority. For someone who had always stiffened his expression whenever he saw Jaemin for an entire year, it made sense that he wanted to savor something sweet like chocolate milk for as long as possible.
However, there was no definitive proof that the account belonged to Jaemin. So if Oh Seungpyo planned to take his time, there was no need for Jaemin to feel rushed.
“Maybe I’ll just go eat lunch after all.”
It seemed a single milk carton wouldn’t be enough to last until dinner. Regaining his appetite, Jaemin quickened his steps to avoid missing what remained of lunchtime.
📚
Deciding to eat lunch turned out to be a good choice. Today’s menu included tofu tuna pancakes, one of Jaemin’s favorite dishes.
Holding his tray, Jaemin sat down. He wasn’t the only one who came late to lunch, so he ended up eating at the same table as some classmates.
“I heard Oh Seungpyo’s dad is a captain of a deep-sea fishing vessel.”
“A captain?”
“Yeah. He catches tuna. I’ve seen him before, and he’s massive. His muscles are huge—way bigger than Oh Seungpyo’s.”
The boy speaking bent his arm to emphasize his biceps, though they weren’t particularly pronounced. Another student, looking puzzled, asked.
“How did you see Oh Seungpyo’s dad?”
“We went to the same middle school.”
Listening to their chatter, Jaemin quietly stared at the tofu tuna pancake he had just picked up with his chopsticks. The reason why Oh Seungpyo came up in conversation during lunch among the Class 2 kids was the upcoming basketball game in a few days.
Even though classes were still ongoing, it was still vacation, so the students were far more relaxed than during the semester. With no self-study sessions, school ended earlier as well. With the extra time, some students went straight home or to cram schools, while others used the gap to play sports or games.
Jaemin first heard that Class 2 had decided to play basketball against Class 4. Since Jaemin usually didn’t participate in playground activities, he only found out late.
“But Hyungseo can’t play this time, right? I heard he sprained his ankle running down the stairs and has to wear a partial cast.”
“Why do we keep going against Class 4? Oh Seungpyo is just way too overpowered.”
“If we can just block him, we might have a chance to win.”
“How are we supposed to block someone who just dominates with height? We’re completely outmatched under the hoop. Without Hyungseo, there’s no way to stop him. He’s the tallest one we’ve got.”
Jaemin continued eating, using the others’ concerns as entertainment. He had no interest in sports. Not only uninterested, but so indifferent that even national events like the Olympics or World Cup didn’t excite him. This often led others to view him as an oddball. Naturally, he had no contribution to make to the discussion about the class match.
The only reason Jaemin was listening closely to the basketball talk instead of ignoring it was that he felt a need to learn more about Oh Seungpyo.
Oh Seungpyo was holding the biggest secret and weakness of Ryu Jaemin in his hands, teasing and taunting him, but Jaemin knew almost nothing about him. Just the basics—superficial traits that everyone knew. Acting like he was mildly curious, Jaemin added to the conversation.
“Was he always this tall back in middle school?”
“Who? Oh, Seungpyo? He was smaller than now, but still tall. Middle school was co-ed, so he was super popular with the girls.”
“He’s still popular. You know Soo-hyun from Nammun High, who became a trainee? I heard they still keep in touch. Other guys got ignored, but she replies to him. So jealous.”
So he’s popular with girls. Jaemin didn’t even need to ask to figure that out. Keeping his tone neutral, Jaemin asked another question.
“Then he must have had a girlfriend too, right?”
“I don’t think so? He got confessed to a lot, but I never heard about him dating anyone.”
“You believe that? If I were Oh Seungpyo, I’d have dated a hundred times over. He probably dated tons of girls secretly.”
If he had a girlfriend, there might have been some vulnerability to exploit… But it seemed like Oh Seungpyo was even more open and straightforward than Jaemin had guessed. Even though they were in a different class, the students seemed to know a lot about Oh Seungpyo, probably because they played basketball, soccer, or games together.
They talked about which girls he had flirted with in middle school, who he still stayed in touch with, how he usually spent his time after school playing games or sports, and even how he’d started spending a bit more time studying in high school. They knew everything from where his older brother went to college to how often he got drunk, and even the name of the major company his father supplied tuna to.
The conclusion was clear: Oh Seungpyo was someone who loved self-expression and showing off. That was about all Jaemin learned, and it wasn’t great news. If he didn’t hide anything, it would be that much harder to find a weak point.
“If only I could look at his phone, I might find something.”
That night, after finishing his usual routine and coming home late, Jaemin put Oh Seungpyo’s phone deep in his desk drawer. Without unlocking it, the phone was just a useless piece of junk. Yet, thinking about Seungpyo’s infuriating attitude, Jaemin’s willingness to return it disappeared.
He stayed up later than usual for no reason, wasting time. Lying in bed with his eyes closed, a comment from earlier in the day suddenly came to mind.
“I used to have one too. I just don’t use it much these days.”
That’s right. Oh Seungpyo mentioned he had an SNS account.
With a personality that loves to show off, even if he had taken a break from it, he probably hadn’t deleted the account.
Jaemin turned on his phone while still lying down. The nagging reminders to avoid distractions that he’d heard a million times echoed in his head, but this was an emergency.
He opened one of the popular SNS platforms kids their age used. Jaemin didn’t have an account, but finding classmates’ profiles wasn’t hard. He went to the account of someone he ate lunch with earlier and checked their friend list. As expected, he easily found Oh Seungpyo’s account.
Seungpyo claimed he wasn’t using it these days, and the most recent post was from about six months ago. Six months ago, meaning summer. It was a short video from an outdoor basketball court by the riverbank, not at school.
“Wow, Oh Seungpyo, yeah—!”
Startled by the cheers that suddenly blared in his quiet room, Jaemin quickly muted the video and shoved his phone under the blanket. Holding his breath, he waited to see if anyone outside the room had heard, but luckily, his parents seemed to be asleep.
He replayed the video with the volume turned way down. The kids were cheering as Seungpyo made a long shot from far out and scored. It must have been the winning shot.
The caption under the video only had a peace-sign emoji. Jaemin scrolled down to the comments.
Why isn’t your phone working? At least check this and reply.
Why haven’t you been around lately? Did you quit?
Seungpyo still the same as always.
Basketball is no fun without you.
Why’d you go to an all-boys school, idiot?
Who filmed this? Looks so cool.
Even though the video was from six months ago, comments were still being posted, with one added just the day before. They were mostly meaningless jokes or greetings meant to stay in touch.
The photos below the video were mostly pictures of Seungpyo either posing to look cool or grinning happily. There was one picture of two drinks topped with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, under which were just silly jokes.
Whipped cream fully loaded
Why two cups??? Who did you go with?
└Hyung……
Is this mint chocolate? I’m cutting ties from today.
└Who are you?
Did you like this kind of thing?
└If you’re a guy, whipped cream’s a must.
There was also a photo of him in his school uniform. It seemed to be taken before he started high school, as it was labeled “high school uniform” and it was from February. He looked happy in the picture. It seemed like Oh Seungpyo was excited about starting high school.
Looking through more of the posts, there wasn’t much that caught his attention. It felt like a waste of time. Just as he was about to turn off his phone, a single photo caught his eye. It was the same ocean picture as the one on Oh Seungpyo’s phone lock screen.
In the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Wow, where is this?
└It’s a picture my dad took from a boat lol.
Jaemin turned off the phone. As the screen went black and he pushed the phone to the side, the image of the deep blue ocean lingered in his mind like an afterimage.
Jaemin had seen the ocean a few times before, but the ocean on Oh Seungpyo’s lock screen felt different. Despite being just a still photo, the texture of the waves seemed vivid, and the feeling of being surrounded only by the ocean didn’t make it feel like an ordinary beach photo.
Jaemin also had a photo of the ocean on his phone. It was a picture his older sister had taken when she went on a trip to Europe last year. She told him it was from Greece, and Jaemin saved the picture because he hoped to visit there once he went to college.
He would soon be a second-year student. This year would probably be harder than last year, and next year, as a third-year student, would be even tougher. But it was something everyone went through. If he could just endure these two years, Ryu Jaemin would grow up, experience campus life, travel alone, and even live away from home.
To do that, he had to wrap things up with Oh Seungpyo before vacation ended.