PSY CH 9

At 3 a.m., Dohyun got up after tossing and turning for a long time. Sitting on the bed, he rested his arms on his knees and bowed his head low. The headache from insomnia was intense. His eyes felt like they were about to fall out, and his temples throbbed like drums.

Every time he was about to fall asleep, he would jolt awake for some unknown reason. After repeating that several times, he couldn’t bear to stay in bed any longer. The chill that lingered after waking up stayed with him unusually long.

“Sigh…”

After massaging his neck for a while, he left the bedroom. Dressed in only his underwear, his broad body moved fluidly under the bright light. 

He drained a glass of water and plopped down on the sofa. He pulled out his phone, opened his contacts out of habit, and tapped the name at the very top: Kang Sieun.

— Hey, Hwangdo, what’s up?

A burst of noise came through the phone all at once. Sieun, who had picked up, was slurring his words. She must’ve been drinking all this time.

“Wanna come over?”

Dohyun got straight to the point without much explanation.

— Now? I’m drinking, though?

A voice in the background asked, “Who is it? A guy?” Dohyun adjusted his grip on the phone and rubbed his forehead. Goosebumps rose on his skin, which had gone cold.

“So are you coming or not?”

— It’s a friend’s birthday party, so I can’t really ditch. Why? You can’t sleep again?

Dohyun tilted his head back and slumped in exhaustion. Sieun, hearing his sigh, added.

— Just go to a hospital already, would you? It’s insomnia, I’m telling you.

“Yeah, have fun.”

Not wanting to hear more nagging, he simply hung up. Once the noise disappeared, the silence around him became even more pronounced. 

Sprawled lazily on the sofa, he stared blankly at the turned-off TV. The insomnia he hadn’t felt in a long time made his heart pound with restless anxiety. 

How long had he been sitting like that? He eventually lowered his head, his face rigid. His gaze fell to his knee. He had been rubbing his left knee for a while without realizing it.

“…”

He slowly dropped his hand, revealing a slightly raised mark that stood out from the rest of his skin. It was a scar.

Facing that old wound brought a faint memory of a dream.

He had fallen, and a stone had embedded itself deep into his skin. Unaware, he had limped down the path alone. It wasn’t until he got home and washed the wound that he noticed the stone stuck inside. When he pulled it out, pale pink flesh welled up with a drop of blood.

He hadn’t cried. Of course, he had been a little scared that the skin might never heal properly. But eventually, it did heal. And Jooyoung, who had left him behind so coldly, came back.

“You need to put some ointment on it.”

He had clutched the first-aid kit tightly in his tiny arms. 

At that time, the very first emotion that came over Dohyun when he saw that spotless little face—absurdly enough—was relief. 

“…Sigh.”

Dohyun pulled his hand away from the scar and rubbed his face. Memories he had tightly knotted up so they wouldn’t unravel had come completely undone the moment he let his guard down. Now they were even showing up in his dreams, as if they were determined to torment him.

“…Ah, what a fucking idiot.”

He cursed himself bitterly.

He felt utterly pathetic and stupid. He had worked so hard to move on, to forget—and it had all come undone so easily…

He didn’t even recognize him when he saw Jooyoung  at first. He’d only spoken to him without thinking because he was captivated by those amber-colored eyes.

But upon noticing the gentle tone of his voice, the pale skin so white his blue veins showed through, even the way his body moved, fluttering like paper,  a lightbulb flicked on in his head. The bright glow lit up the dust-covered memories. He had no idea what possessed him to fix the umbrella and walk away.

After that, Dohyun started observing Jooyoung. He would look up at the fourth floor of the pawnshop building without reason, or turn around when someone with pale skin walked by. Jooyoung, on the other hand, hadn’t recognized Dohyun at all—not for days.

“…”

He pressed a fingernail hard against the scar on his knee. The wound had long since healed; the pain had faded, too. All that remained were the memories and emotions it stirred. 

Dohyun clenched his fist and pulled his hand away from the scar. He reached for the phone he’d thrown aside, scrolling quickly through his contacts—up, then back down. The glow of the screen lit his stiff, expressionless face.

After a long pause, he finally tapped a name. Despite the late hour, the other person picked up immediately, as if they’d been waiting.

“Hey, it’s me.”

A rough voice sliced through the silence. Dohyun rubbed at his eyebrow with his index finger and sank deeper into the couch. His body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

***

Jooyoung, who had been walking up the stairs, came to a halt when he unexpectedly ran into Dohyun. After a brief moment of stillness, Dohyun was the first to pass by. Even their scents seemed to carry different densities—his vanished into the air without ever mixing.

There was a time when they would always greet each other when they met, but that had become a thing of the past. Ever since that incident, Jooyoung had stopped acknowledging him, too. The confusion hadn’t cleared; in fact, it had only gotten more tangled. He didn’t even know where to begin unraveling it.

“…”

Jooyoung wiped the dampness off his arm and continued up the stairs. But in front of the tightly closed metal door of the pawnshop, someone was crouched down. Looking more closely, he realized it was the woman who had pawned her earrings a few days ago.

“Don’t you open at 10?”

The woman asked as soon as she saw Jooyoung. A soaking wet umbrella lay collapsed at her feet.

“Ah…”

“…”

“I’m sorry. Traffic was bad.”

Jooyoung glanced at the time, feigning concern, and offered a half-hearted excuse. He passed by the woman and opened the door. Creeeak—the rusted metal door let out a chilling screech. 

The woman straightened up and followed Jooyoung inside the pawnshop. She pinched her nose with her index finger, seemingly startled by the musty air. Only after Jooyoung flung the windows wide open and turned on the fan did her expression ease.

“What brings you here today?”

Jooyoung was the first to speak. Until then, the woman had just loitered around without saying a word about why she’d come.

She had been eyeing a potted plant tucked away in a corner. Then she turned, pivoting on her right foot to face Jooyoung, as if she’d never hesitated. In a sudden motion, she walked right up to the counter. She pulled something from her bag and held it out.

It was cash. Ten 50,000-won bills—500,000 won^[1] in total.

Jooyoung hadn’t expected this.

He just stared at the money, making no move to take it. The woman frowned.

“It’s only been a few days. Are you really going to charge me for interest?”

“…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You really are?”

“No.”

Jooyoung slowly shook his head and finally took the money. The bills were damp with humidity. 

Though mid-term repayments weren’t unheard of, it was rare for someone to come back just a few days later. Repayment dates were usually written into the contract, and most customers paid on schedule. Since they typically came in desperate need of cash, it was unlikely they’d suddenly have enough to pay back so soon. On top of that, this woman had seemed especially desperate. Even as he took the money, Jooyoung felt a lingering confusion.

He fetched the earrings from the safe and handed them back to her.

“…”

For some reason, the woman didn’t leave even after taking her item. She absently rubbed the earrings between fingers with chipped nail polish, as if she had something to say.

Watching her hesitate, Jooyoung finally asked if she had other business. Biting down hard on her lower lip, the woman glared sharply at him.

“You know these are fake, right?”

Her voice was edged—she almost sounded angry.

“I know you knew that. So why did you give me the money?”

“…”

“Why did you give it to me?”

When Jooyoung didn’t answer, the woman pressed on, refusing to let it go—as if she had to know. But whatever answer he gave, it would only upset her.

Jooyoung set his pen down with a tap. He spoke calmly.

“It was a service.”

The woman blinked, stunned.

“…What?”

“This pawnshop used to be run by my grandfather. I’m in charge now. So, it was kind of a… celebratory service for the new management. You know, something like that…”

It was clearly a lie—anyone could tell—but Jooyoung said it so matter-of-factly that she hesitated, visibly thrown off. Still doubtful, she frowned and asked again.

“A service?”

“Yes.”

“What if I’d just run off with the money?”

Jooyoung paused, then replied.

“That’s why I’ve decided, uh, not to offer that service anymore. Too risky.”

The woman let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“Ha, what the… That lie is so obviously bullshit.” 

“…”

“I mean, who’d believe that… seriously…”

Her voice was full of disbelief, as if scolding him for such a flimsy excuse. Jooyoung didn’t argue back, and after a moment of muttering to herself, the woman abruptly asked another question.

“Did you come from Seoul?”

Her tone and expression were noticeably softer than before.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“…Sorry?”

“I said, why’d you come here from Seoul?”

She sounded blunt, but genuinely curious. As if wondering what in the world could make someone leave Seoul to end up here.

Come to think of it, that was the first time someone had asked Jooyoung that question since he moved to Maeyang. And yet—it was also a question he had prepared for countless times. Rehearsed answers, plausible stories. But the people who came into the pawnshop either didn’t care or already knew who he was and why he was there. So he rarely had a chance to use those carefully prepared lines.

Jooyoung answered in a calm voice. He said he’d come to care for the pawnshop because his Grandpa was unwell. He had replies ready for the next questions, too—but the woman didn’t ask any more.

“Hm.”

She simply glanced him up and down, briefly. Her eyes held a look he couldn’t quite place, so Jooyoung could only stand there, unsure of what else to do.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that. But eventually, the woman turned and left the pawnshop without a word. Her footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, growing fainter with each step. It was like a gust of wind had passed—and then vanished all at once.

“…”

Jooyoung rubbed his earlobe, then finally looked away from the door.

He opened the ledger and marked the payment as complete on that day’s record. The handwriting left on the page was neat and precise—unlike Dohyun’s, which he saw last time.