PSY CH 90

“Don’t talk like that.”

This wasn’t baseless anxiety. Dohyun really did look upset.

“What’s wrong with you? If you’re bothered by something, say it. Just don’t snark about it.”

“…”

“Hwang Dohyun.”

“Why do I have to wait?”

Before he knew it, Dohyun had completely wiped the smile from his face as he asked the question. The shift in mood was so stark that Jooyoung could tell this wasn’t something Dohyun was saying lightly. Still, the reason behind his anger remained unclear. All Jooyoung wanted was to spend time together—so why, exactly…?

“If I go to Seoul and come back, your birthday will already be over. If we want to spend it together, it makes more sense to go to Seoul. That’s why I said we should go—at least, that’s what I was thinking.” 

“…”

“The meeting isn’t long. Just dinner and done. You won’t have to wait long.”

“Whether it’s one minute or one hour,” Dohyun remained firm in his calm tone. “I don’t want to wait in Seoul.” 

His voice left no room for compromise.

“I won’t do something fucked up twice.”

“…”

“Go to Seoul by yourself.”

He turned to walk away; Jooyoung reached out.

“Then what about your birthday?”

“…”

“Dohyun-ah, seriously, why are you like this…”

“Celebrate it after you come back or whatever…”

Jooyoung’s face crumpled at those cold words, which didn’t carry even the slightest trace of hope.

“Didn’t you promise me not to leave me alone?”

Dohyun, who had been walking away alone with heavy steps, came to a halt. A gust of wind swept between them, scattering fallen leaves in its wake. The sound was eerily desolate.

“Hah…” Dohyun sneered and said icily,  “Then you don’t have to go, easy, right?”

“What?”

“Why is it always just me…!”

He erupted in anger and pressed his fist against his forehead. Under the street lamp, his chest heaved violently—Jooyoung could even see the tension in his jaw.

Dohyun struggled to calm himself, breathing heavily as he silently turned to leave.

“I’m not coming back!”

Jooyoung shouted at his retreating back, the autumn leaves rustling in the wind.

“If you leave like this, I won’t come back after going to Seoul!”

But Dohyun didn’t stop. He didn’t turn around, didn’t try to comfort Jooyoung.

“…”

Jooyoung’s shoulders sagged. Emotional exhaustion and confusion weighed on him.

Dohyun’s broad back grew farther and farther away until it finally disappeared from sight. Even then, Jooyoung remained rooted to the spot, unable to move.

That night, he couldn’t sleep at all.

Morning light streamed through the window left open for ventilation. The sun’s warmth on his foot was almost unthinkable for an autumn morning.

“Hah…”

Jooyoung washed his face, then dragged his heavy body upright. He didn’t want to do anything, but he knew if he stayed still, his mind would chew him up with thoughts.

He searched for a café that opened early—found one near the traditional market that opened at 7am. Though coffee’s not great with meds, he’d stayed up all night—it was needed. He rubbed his bleary eyes and stepped out.

On his way back with coffee, life began stirring in the city—commuters appeared on the sidewalks as he neared the building.

Near the building steps, he heard an argument:

“Grandma, sell it for 4,000 won, please?” 

“Aish, I said no, seriously!”

As he was about to pass the bus stop, he saw an elderly woman selling vegetables and a man arguing with her. Upon a closer look, he realized it was Sunwoo, the lodging house manager.

“It’s been a while since the holiday. You could cut me a deal.”

Despite her refusal, Sunwoo kept pressing. The baskets were piled high with spinach, radish greens, lettuce.

“Please, show a little countryside kindness, Grandma.”

At that, the vendor scoffed and shot a glare at Sunwoo.

“Kindness, my ass? You need some conscience! If I sold it at 4,000 won, how would I make a living?” 

“Well, I know you got it cheap yourself?” 

“Seriously!”

The vendor let out a snort, clearly thinking there was no point in continuing the conversation. She roughly shoved the spinach into a black plastic bag, her movements aggressive and sharp.

“Here! Just go already.”

“Yes!”

Sunwoo happily accepted the bag. He pulled out some cash from his wallet and handed it to the vendor. She quickly counted out a crumpled wad of change from her pocket and gave it to him.

“Have a great day, Grandma! Hope you sell lots!”

Despite his cheerful farewell, the vendor only waved him off impatiently. Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind—he grinned and turned around. When he spotted Jooyoung standing in the distance, he waved the bag and jogged over.

“Oh, Jooyoung-ssi! Is that morning coffee?”

“Yes.”

Jooyoung was holding an Americano from a nearby café.

“I was just coming back from the market. Spinach was expensive over there, but I found this lady selling it cheap just up the road. Snatched it right up!”

He paused mid-walk to the building and opened the bag wide for Jooyoung to see.

“Tsk, I could’ve haggled her down more.”

He kept glancing back toward the vendor as if still regretting it.

“Guess that old ‘countryside kindness’ thing doesn’t exist anymore.”

“…”

“I thought she’d throw in some freebies or something. Back before I came here, I was living in Yeosu. But that place has totally turned into a tourist trap now…”

Sunwoo rambled on, unprompted, and most of what he said was just complaints about rural areas. Apparently, despite being born and raised in Seoul, he’d had some kind of fantasy about the countryside. But in the end, people are the same everywhere.

Jooyoung half-listened as they walked up the stairs.

“Next year, I’m planning to hit Gangwon-do and then head back to Seoul. It feels bittersweet, but also kind of freeing.“

“…”

“Still, I could never do another nationwide tour like this again.”

Once they reached the third floor, Sunwoo cheerfully headed toward the lodging house. He called out that he’d be making spinach soup for dinner and told Jooyoung to come eat before disappearing inside.

Jooyoung turned to head to the pawnshop. 

“I won’t do something fucked up twice.”

Suddenly, Dohyun’s words resurfaced in his mind.

The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. To say he wouldn’t do it twice meant he’d already gone through it once. Had Dohyun ever waited for him in Seoul before? He had no memory of th—

“…Ah.”

Jooyoung came to a sudden stop, his hand resting on the railing. Layers upon layers of memories began to stir, and something long buried at the very bottom slowly started to surface, along with the dust of time.

Seoul. Dohyun. Waiting.

Jooyoung’s eyes widened in shock.

“Do you remember the last time we met?”

Now he understood why Dohyun had reacted so strangely. Jooyoung had made a huge mistake—that day hadn’t been their true last meeting.

He didn’t remember all the details, but he had fought with Joomin. Once again, Jooyoung was the only one scolded, and feeling like everything was spiraling, he had gone straight to Dohyun.

He wanted to vent all the stress he’d built up from being pushed around because of Joomin. At the same time, he wanted someone—anyone—to reassure him that he was their number one. The only way to heal his wounded pride was through Dohyun. After parting ways at the amusement park, Dohyun, who had always reached out to him first, had suddenly gone quiet, and that silence only spurred Jooyoung on even more.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

With sweet words like wanting to apologize and spend his birthday together, Jooyoung coaxed Dohyun into coming. Dohyun looked more drained than usual, but still, he didn’t refuse Jooyoung’s call.

While they were hanging out, Jooyoung kept snapping at him, trying to restore his bruised pride. He hadn’t prepared a cake or a gift—nothing at all.

Then, by chance, he ran into a friend. All of a sudden, having Dohyun next to him started to feel bothersome. At the same time, he thought it was a perfect opportunity. The hesitation didn’t last long. 

“Wanna wait here? You’re good at waiting, right?”

He remembered the expression on Dohyun’s face when he said that. The hesitation, the hurt—he remembered it vividly. And the thrill Jooyoung had felt at that moment.

It had been exhilarating. Deeply satisfying.

Watching Dohyun freeze in place at his words and actions had always amused him. That feeling—of someone being completely at his mercy—had become addictive.

He never once considered the pain Dohyun would feel because of his actions. Nor did he consider how long the boy might have waited for him in the chilly late-autumn air. Or that it would be their true last moment together.

Jooyoung had only ever thought about himself.

“I have no idea what’s so fucking great about seeing you.”

“If you need someone to be your lackey, go look somewhere else.”

“You’re fucking selfish. You know that?”

Blatant disregard, simmering resentment. And yet, the wounds that flickered through now and then. Now he finally understood why Dohyun had been so hostile after they reunited. It was a way to protect himself—a way to bare his teeth first, so he wouldn’t get hurt again.

“Whether it’s one minute or one hour,”

“I don’t want to wait in Seoul.”

His mind went blank, like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head.

“…Ah.”

His hand slackened, and the coffee slipped from his grasp. The dark liquid spilled over the stairs, soaking them, then dripped downward. It looked almost like blood—deep, red-black, and relentless.