UPLB Ch 29
by soapaYang Juwon tried to lighten the mood with a joke.
“You’re the one who messed up, so why are you acting pitiful?”
At that, Choi Sungbin shot him a glare. Same as always. Yang Juwon ate his meal too. It was a bento from the university district.
It wasn’t anything special in taste. What kind of great flavor could you expect from a nine-thousand-won bento?
“Why did you send the money?”
“For your parents.”
“If I give them that money, Mom and Dad would faint. They’d think I did something bad.”
“Money is just money when you earn it. Why call it something bad?”
Does he think it’s normal for an average college student to casually hand over ten million won for their parents’ birthday?
Well, Choi Sungbin does have money. But he didn’t seem to spend it on anything special. He bought clothes sometimes. Other than dressing up, he didn’t do much.
“Why did you come all the way here instead of staying home?”
Choi Sungbin picked at the rice with his chopsticks. Swaying side to side, pretending not to hear, he mumbled in a barely audible voice.
“…I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“Huh?”
The man raised his head sharply, putting force into his voice.
“I was afraid you’d say you weren’t coming, sunbae. I thought you’d say you were at your studio. You told me this morning not to contact you.”
“Oh.”
“Ugh.”
Instead, he let out a sigh. Yang Juwon stopped eating and looked up. Why are you sighing?
Choi Sungbin bit the end of his chopsticks, glancing cautiously. When their eyes met, he carefully asked.
“Sunbae.”
“Yeah.”
“…Are you still mad?”
“Nope.”
“Okay.”
“So you sent the money because you felt bad?”
Instead of answering, he pursed his lips. He rounded them, then bit them. Yang Juwon put down his chopsticks.
“Looks like you have something to say.”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
“I won’t say we should break up anymore.”
“…”
“And I’m sorry. For yesterday and everything…”
Finally, an apology came. Somehow, it felt deflating. He wanted to pin down what this emotion was, but no answer came.
“I’m sorry for getting mad too.”
The man, who’d lowered his head briefly, continued.
“I’m sorry for telling you not to go to your parents’ house. I know it’s your dad’s birthday, and I stopped you. But I really didn’t want you to go.”
“Why?”
“You’d go and have fun with your family. But I’d be at home, just waiting for you. Honestly, even if it’s a one-night trip, if your parents hold you back, you might stay longer.”
“…That’s true.”
Yang Juwon answered honestly. He’d said he’d come back on Saturday, but with family and relatives around after so long, it’d be hard to leave easily.
“That’s why. I just… You’re all I have now, but you meet friends, see family, and I feel like I’m pushed to the back. I hated that.”
“Why would you be pushed back? We’re together all the time except when I meet others.”
“Sunbae, do you really like me?”
Choi Sungbin had been asking this a lot lately. Do you really like me? Do you like me? What kind of answer did he want by asking every time?
When Yang Juwon said he liked him, Choi Sungbin would just say “okay” briefly. Did he want reassurance? Was Yang Juwon not giving him enough certainty?
That shouldn’t be the case. Yang Juwon didn’t know how much affection he wanted. He understood the need for reassurance, but the questions came too often, too quickly.
“Yeah, I like you. You know that.”
“What do I know? It feels like you don’t really like me, sunbae. I’m always the one pushing to do things, and you’re just… there, indifferent. If you like someone, it should feel like it, but I don’t feel it from you.”
“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”
“Even when I ask you to change, it’s always the same. Like you don’t even want to try… Oh.”
Choi Sungbin stopped himself. He glanced nervously. This wasn’t the time to express his grievances, yet here they were again.
When he talked too long, it was always about feeling hurt or upset. This made him mad, that made him upset, this annoyed him, that irritated him. He didn’t know what to do.
If you like someone, you just like them. Why feel hurt or upset? Yang Juwon rubbed his face with dry hands. He bit his lips to hold back a sigh. Then he nodded.
“Want to come to my parents’ house next time? This time, relatives are coming, so I didn’t ask you to join. Want to meet my relatives?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go together next time. After my work’s done.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to see your family.”
“Yesterday you said we should go together.”
“That was just to pick a fight. To stop you from going.”
The answer was so blunt, Yang Juwon had nothing to say. He tilted his head, then let it go.
Knowing a bit about Choi Sungbin’s family situation, family might feel burdensome or uncomfortable. But meeting them might change things. Would he still dislike it? Taking him home might be awkward for both of them. Introducing him to parents, adjusting everything to him.
To his family, their relationship might seem strange.
Yang Juwon slowly pulled his chin in.
“Let’s think about it later. For now, eat. You haven’t eaten all day, have you?”
“You know I haven’t eaten?”
“You don’t eat much when you’re alone.”
“You asked if I slept too.”
“Yeah, you looked like you didn’t.”
“…Okay.”
Choi Sungbin gave him a sulky look, then buried his face in the bento, shoveling rice in.
“Eat slowly.”
That was all Yang Juwon could say.
📝
As always, time passed quickly. Waking up, going to work, meeting Choi Sungbin after—it became routine. The monotonous days brought stability, but honestly, relationships were still hard.
Choi Sungbin kept his word for the past two weeks, not mentioning breaking up. But that was it. Everything else was the same.
When upset, he sulked, glared, and… was sharper than usual.
At some point, he started sleeping poorly. Even a calm person gets irritable without sleep, let alone Choi Sungbin.
Already finicky, sleep deprivation made him even touchier, getting worse by the day. To Yang Juwon, it felt like living with a faulty time bomb. Never knowing when it’d explode made him cautious, and he got sharper too.
When irritated, keeping some distance might help, but Choi Sungbin always needed him close. If Yang Juwon distanced himself, Choi Sungbin got annoyed; if he stayed close, Choi Sungbin shot him suffocated looks.
Not wanting to spark conflict, Yang Juwon grew wary. It was tough. Otherwise, things were the same.
But even repetitive routines end. The daily work ended with his last shift. Only a week or so of break remained.
Yang Juwon cleared his throat briefly and approached Choi Sungbin, curled up on the bed.
“Sungbin-ah.”
“Yeah.”
Choi Sungbin answered without turning. Sleeplessness left him exhausted, and being naturally lazy, he spent more time on the bed or sofa.
“I’m going to my parents’ tomorrow. I’ll go alone. I’ll leave early and be back by evening. Even if they ask me to stay, I won’t.”
With a sigh, the man sat up on the bed.
“Why bring up something we already settled?”
He’d agreed to drive Yang Juwon there, drop him off, spend time elsewhere, and pick him up later. When Yang Juwon suggested going in together, Choi Sungbin asked why he had to meet his family, leaving him speechless.
Driving was fine for Choi Sungbin, but it was burdensome for Yang Juwon. How could he drive long distances without sleep? Traffic could make it a two-hour trip.
“You haven’t been sleeping.”
“I told you I don’t need much sleep. That’s how I was before we met.”
“Long drives are dangerous like that.”
“I’ve been living like this. Why worry? I know my body. What do you know?”
Yang Juwon shut his mouth. The irritated tone left him speechless. He let out a low sigh.
He didn’t want to talk more. If even thoughtful words got such a sharp response, what could he say?
Choi Sungbin knew how to get under people’s skin. It wasn’t unconscious—he meant to do it. Yang Juwon had gotten used to it.
Their eyes met for a long moment. Choi Sungbin looked away first.
Choi Sungbin picked at a hangnail with his other hand, fidgeting with his fingers. Yang Juwon stared quietly at his hands.
“Anyway, got it. I’m going to sleep now, so get ready for bed.”
Noticing the stare, he clenched his fist to hide his hand. Yang Juwon looked away and checked the time. Eight p.m. Even with a regular routine, he was just a typical twenty-something guy. Preparing for bed at eight wasn’t his thing. But if Choi Sungbin said so, he’d go along.
“Alright.”
Yang Juwon replied briefly and turned away.
Something felt off. Everything was out of sync.
📝
“…So annoying.”
Yang Juwon puffed out his cheeks and glanced over. It was hard to look at the man’s face, dripping with irritation.
Even avoiding rush hour, Seoul mornings always came with some traffic.
That’s why I said I’d go alone. He swallowed the words, holding back. It was better to let it go. He didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.
Choi Sungbin had been like this lately, always carrying a small spark. Either put it out or let it burn out, but he kept it smoldering.
Yang Juwon didn’t think Choi Sungbin disliked him. If he did, he wouldn’t cling so persistently.
If he disliked him, he’d have just said to break up.
“Here.”
Yang Juwon took a takeout cup from the holder and handed it over. Unlike Yang Juwon’s iced Americano, Choi Sungbin’s was peppermint tea. He’d said he’d drink coffee, but Yang Juwon got tea instead, worried caffeine would worsen his sleepless state. He picked a familiar name, not knowing much.
Choi Sungbin gave a displeased look but said nothing. Maybe he was holding back too. He just lost it often.
His old smiles felt like a distant memory. He didn’t smile anymore.
Yang Juwon fiddled with his phone, opening a booking app and searching near his parents’ house.
“I’ll book a motel. Rest there.”
“You’re not coming out right away?”
“I have to see Dad and eat. I told you.”
“…”
Choi Sungbin didn’t answer, staring straight ahead. If there was a clear reason for his mood, Yang Juwon could soothe him, but now he didn’t know why.
Even with his pickiness and sensitivity, things used to get better with care. But lately, it was constant. Yang Juwon couldn’t find an answer.
Why was it getting hard again?
“I don’t want a motel. Or a hotel. I’ll just stay nearby.”
“It’ll take some time. Dad’s coming in the evening.”
“Then don’t let it take long. I’m waiting, so you’re just going to stay there?”
“I’ll try to come out quickly.”
“Not try—do it.”
Yang Juwon had asked a few times if something was wrong.
“I told you, nothing’s wrong.”
“Why ask from the morning? It’s annoying.”
“What if something’s wrong? What are you going to do?”
His responses varied, but they all meant it wasn’t Yang Juwon’s business. Soothing him worked briefly, then it started again.
Long talks would lead to heated faces, so Yang Juwon watched his words. He looked out the window.
Going home would be uncomfortable anyway. He regretted not going alone.
📝
Entering the familiar neighborhood eased his mind a bit. Yang Juwon looked around. The area he’d lived in since childhood had changed, but its vibe remained.
It wasn’t a neighborhood packed with apartment complexes. Multi-family and single-family homes stood close together.
Choi Sungbin stopped the car at the given address. The street was narrow, but no cars passed during the daytime.
Yang Juwon got out of the passenger seat, bent down, and tapped the window. Choi Sungbin rolled it down.
“Sungbin-ah,” he called, and Choi Sungbin tilted his head. Yang Juwon tried again.
“Just come in with me. It’s just family, so it’s fine.”
“No thanks. I’d rather be alone.”
“But you came all this way.”
Trailing off, Choi Sungbin openly frowned.
“Why would I meet your family? It’d just be awkward.”
“Then want to park here? I’ll open the parking lot.”
“That’d make your parents worry. Just tell me a place to go. I’ll kill time there.”
“If you drive a bit more, there’s that place we went stargazing.”
“You want me to go alone?”
“It’s a bit like that, but you’re tired from driving. You sure you won’t come in?”
“No, let me just…”
His raised voice faded.
With a creak, the gate opened, and a familiar voice greeted him.
“Who’s this?”
Choi Sungbin looked over first, and Yang Juwon turned a beat later. His mother, poking her head out, recognized him and rushed over.
“Son! I saw a car out front and wondered who it was.”
“Hey, Mom.”
Seeing his mother after months was nice, but he couldn’t fully enjoy it. Choi Sungbin behind him weighed on his mind.
“Why aren’t you coming in? …Who’s this?”
His mother asked curiously. Understandably—Choi Sungbin stood out. Starting with his car.
In Seoul, flashy luxury cars blended in, but in this ordinary neighborhood, it drew attention.
Yang Juwon introduced Choi Sungbin to his mother.
“Uh, a younger friend. He drove me here.”
“All the way? Then I’ll open the parking lot. Why not come in?”
“…”
Yang Juwon glanced sideways. Choi Sungbin said nothing, frozen, not even greeting.
He stood there, wide-eyed with panic.
“Wow, he’s handsome. Is that rude to say? Son, come in. I’ll open the parking lot.”
His mother, openly impressed, hurried back to the gate. The shutter to the parking lot, which doubled as a garage, went up. She held the door and waved them in.
Like a parking attendant, she swung her arms, and Yang Juwon turned to the dazed man.
“…Want to come in for now?”
Even Choi Sungbin, who’d been so irritable, quietly parked in the lot this time. Yang Juwon stood at the entrance, watching him.
Getting out, Choi Sungbin looked around the parking lot-garage. He said nothing, suddenly docile, just reading the room.
“Why’d you bring a friend without telling me?” his mother said, hoping for another introduction. Choi Sungbin hid behind him.
“Sunbae, this is awkward,” he whispered in Yang Juwon’s ear. The unexpected behavior made Yang Juwon tense too. Choi Sungbin wasn’t usually shy, despite being reserved.
Was it natural? Meeting someone unprepared like this.
“Did you eat breakfast? Should we go out for brunch? What’s your name, son?”
In contrast, his mother seemed very interested in Choi Sungbin. Since Yang Juwon hadn’t brought anyone home past his twenties, she appeared delighted.
Choi Sungbin mumbled in a small voice.
“…I’m Choi Sungbin.”
“Oh, Sungbin. Wow, so handsome. How did you meet? At school? Same major?”
His uneven breaths brushed against Yang Juwon’s ear. He seemed very nervous.
“Mom, I’ll go to my room for a bit.”
Yang Juwon stepped between them to divert his mother’s attention.
“Sure, sure. Rest a bit, and we’ll go eat sundubu jjigae for lunch. There’s a famous place in the neighborhood. Sungbin, do you like sundubu jjigae?”
His mother asked Choi Sungbin. He only nodded in response.
“Okay. Rest for a bit. I’ll be ready soon.”
His mother’s eyes curved like crescent moons. As always, she was bright and warm. She patted Yang Juwon’s shoulder as if soothing a child, even though he was well past twenty. Feeling a bit awkward, Yang Juwon glanced at Choi Sungbin.
Choi Sungbin was staring somewhere in the living room, avoiding looking at Yang Juwon or his mother.
As soon as he entered the room, Choi Sungbin let out a long sigh. He looked exhausted despite the brief encounter.
“Sorry. You didn’t want to come.”
“I’m already here, so what can I do?”
“If you’re uncomfortable, tell me. I’ll make sure you can leave.”
“Why did you introduce me as just a friend to your mother?”
“What was I supposed to say?”
Instead of answering, Choi Sungbin looked around. Compared to his own studio apartment, this place was starkly different. Items too precious to throw away were neatly arranged everywhere.
Yang Juwon felt embarrassed about the messy room. Since starting college, he only came here to sleep occasionally, so the room felt stuck in his childhood.
A photo from his taekwondo days hung in a frame, and below it were ID photos his mother had placed, organized by time: before elementary school, in middle school uniform, high school uniform, for his ID card…
Choi Sungbin stood in front of the frame, quietly studying the photos.
“Cute.”
Realizing what he said, he glanced back at Yang Juwon nervously. Yang Juwon let out a small laugh.
“Was I cute as a kid?”
When asked, Choi Sungbin rambled on.
“You were ugly even back then. You look fierce.”
“I got a lot of compliments as a kid.”
“From who?”
Choi Sungbin asked with a skeptical look. Was getting compliments worth such a reaction? Yang Juwon let out a dumbfounded chuckle.
“Just… you know, adults.”
“Did you ever get confessed to in elementary school?”
“Back then, everyone’s cute to someone.”
Choi Sungbin’s cheek twitched.
“Middle school?”
“Puberty, you know.”
His cheek twitched again.
“High school?”
“I went to an all-boys school.”
“I’m annoyed.”
What’s there to be annoyed about? Yang Juwon pulled his lips down into a frown.
Choi Sungbin turned away, tilting his head to look at the framed photos. Then he took a picture of the entire frame with his phone.
He pulled out an ID photo, looked at it, and put it back. He ran his hand over the desk, scanning the room. He spun a Rubik’s cube, set it down, touched the spines of books, pulled one out, flipped through it without reading, and put it back, repeating the process.
“You must’ve studied hard. Where are all your workbooks?”
“Threw them out after the college entrance exam. Sold some for money. Not much, though.”
“Hmm, you lived a pretty ordinary life, sunbae.”
“Yeah, just ordinary.”
“True. Your house is nicer than I thought. I figured you’d be super poor or something.”
“Everyone lives like this.”
Choi Sungbin gave a small laugh and sat in a chair. The chair was small, creaking every time he shifted his hips.
📝
For lunch, they ate sundubu jjigae and moved to a café.
The place was supposedly famous, but the taste wasn’t special. It was just irritating. The cramped shop felt hot despite the air conditioning, the stew scalded the roof of his mouth, and his mother’s endless questions were uncomfortable and burdensome.
The hardest part was watching Yang Juwon and his mother from an outsider’s perspective. Seeing him play the dutiful son made Choi Sungbin sulky.
“Mom, are you going to the hospital regularly?”
“Just taking meds. At my age, I’m super healthy. Never had surgery.”
“That’s good.”
“Seeing my son after so long feels great. You always cut calls short, and I get upset.”
“I’ll call more often.”
“Do you talk to Sowon much? I tell her to call, but no news is good news, right? She’s stressed about studying.”
“I’ll do that.”
Yang Juwon, with his family, was subtly different from when he was with Choi Sungbin. Mixing casual and polite speech, he acted like a dependable son. How did such a blunt guy come from such a warm, affectionate mother?
I take after my dad. The reason I’m so messed up is all because of him.
“Juwon’s so blunt. What’s he like with you, Sungbin?”
The focus shifted to Choi Sungbin. He’d been staring out the window but finally looked over.
He thought about Yang Juwon when they were together. Normally, even a hint of irritation from Choi Sungbin would make Yang Juwon try hard to appease him. Sometimes he’d laugh, and when asked why, he’d give absurd reasons like laughing because Choi Sungbin was.
Before bed, he’d gently touch his cheek and whisper goodnight. If Choi Sungbin pretended to sleep, he’d caress his cheek even more carefully. Blunt and indifferent as he seemed, he was fundamentally kind.
But now?
Choi Sungbin lowered his head, then looked up. Meeting Yang Juwon’s eyes, he hesitated.
I’m depressed. Choi Sungbin pulled his chin in.
“He’s the same. Blunt.”
His mood sank strangely. Choi Sungbin looked at the family around the table. It was his first time seeing someone else’s family this close.
Yang Juwon resembled his father, and his younger sister looked like their mother. They were unmistakably family, like they shared the same art style.
His father was like a typical patriarch from a TV drama. Not talkative but warm and attentive to his kids. His mother led the mood, doing most of the talking while the family responded. The sister, a high schooler, was a bit prickly from exam stress.
It was a typical family scene, like watching a weekend drama. Even this cheerful dinner felt scripted.
Choi Sungbin sat in the audience, watching them. The table was small, but he felt out of place. Even obvious questions were hard to answer.
When was the last time I ate with family? Naturally, he couldn’t recall.
Have I ever eaten with family?
What counts as family?
Does my stepmom count? …What about the kid born between my dad and noona?
What about the noonas I lived with before, then?
Had he ever had so many question marks about family before?
Then, a hand broke into his view. Lost in thought, Choi Sungbin looked up. His mother was asking for his plate, urging him to hand it over.
Oh, he let out a short sound and passed the bowl. Soon, it was filled with seaweed soup, piled high without knowing if he’d eat more.
Choi Sungbin took the bowl with both hands and bowed his head.
“Son, is the food to your liking?”
Why am I her son? The term she’d used since meeting him kept bothering him.
“…Yes, it’s delicious.”
“You don’t seem to eat much. Tell me if you want anything else, okay?”
Yang Juwon chimed in.
“He likes it. He always ate the side dishes well.”
His mother beamed.
“Oh, you ate my side dishes too? Why didn’t you say? Didn’t I send too little?”
“When Mom sends side dishes, our table practically breaks from the weight. Her portions are huge.”
“What kind of talk is that, Dad? When has Mom ever not sent enough?”
His sister teased their father’s exaggeration.
“You don’t have to send side dishes. There are plenty of places to buy them now.”
“But don’t you like Mom’s cooking?”
“It’s just hard on you.”
“It’s not hard. And now I have another son to feed, so I’ll send even more. What side dishes do you like, Sungbin?”
His mother smiled at him. Choi Sungbin, biting his chopsticks, looked away.
Uncomfortable. Not just awkward—uncomfortable. Everything felt wrong from the moment he entered this house.
With her long-unseen son and Choi Sungbin tagging along, his mother seemed eager to chat. Yang Juwon mediated well, but the discomfort lingered.
Facing the root of his inferiority complex in person felt…
Yang Juwon was more ordinary than he’d thought.
Everything could be called ordinary. Why would someone living in such stable relationships chase after him? Why not just live ordinarily like this? That’s probably why he didn’t want to meet Yang Juwon’s family. They’d be different from the Yang Juwon he knew.
Choi Sungbin quietly glanced at Yang Juwon. He seemed at ease here, laughing at his family’s words and asking questions first.
When was the last time you laughed with me? He wanted to drag him to the room and snap at him.
It’s not that he wanted all his attention. At home, he should spend time with family. But wasn’t Choi Sungbin the uninvited guest here?
Ugh, I feel bad. Instead of sighing, Choi Sungbin sipped water.
“Sungbin… are you a student living alone?”
Unlike his mother, his father was a bit reserved. A sturdy twenty-something sitting in their home would make anyone feel that way. It was awkwardness, not discomfort. Choi Sungbin hadn’t been friendly either.
If he’d been charming, he might’ve blended in, but he didn’t want to.
He didn’t want to get involved with this family.
Yang Juwon, I want to go home. I want to be alone with you. Your mom, dad, sister—all of them make me uncomfortable.
“Yes, I live alone.”
He still kept his manners, as expected.
“Where’s your hometown?”
“Dad, he doesn’t like those questions.”
Yang Juwon cut in, peeling shrimp and placing it on Choi Sungbin’s plate. What are you doing in front of your parents, acting like that? He wanted to say it but couldn’t.
Choi Sungbin gave a light laugh, pushing the shrimp aside with his chopsticks.
“My hometown’s nearby, but living alone is more comfortable.”
“Oh, your hometown’s Seoul, and you’re living alone? You must come from a well-off family.”
His father laughed alone. Choi Sungbin let it slide. It didn’t bother him. Seeing Yang Juwon squirm eased his irritation a bit.
I’m meeting your dad and hearing this. Meeting Yang Juwon’s eyes, Choi Sungbin curved his eyes into crescents.
“Staying the night?”
As dinner wrapped up, his mother asked. Choi Sungbin checked the time. It was almost nine.
He hadn’t slept, and being in this draining place all day made him tired. But he wanted to go home. At least leave this house.
He should’ve looked for nearby lodging. He just wanted to go back.
Yang Juwon hesitated, watching him. Choi Sungbin stayed still.
You must want to stay. He felt more depressed. If he’d waited outside, would Yang Juwon have come out?
Choi Sungbin looked at his empty bowl. It was hard to refuse the expectant looks from his parents.
“Do what you want, sunbae. Looks like you want to stay.”
Still, he hoped Yang Juwon would read his mood. I want to go home. Be with me like usual. Accept me, comfort me.
“…Is that okay?”
But of course not. Yang Juwon’s cautious question deflated him.
“It’s fine. It’s your house.”
At that, Yang Juwon gave a small smile. Choi Sungbin mirrored it. Smiling at each other felt like it had been a while.
While Yang Juwon went to wash up, Choi Sungbin stayed in the room, looking around and stopping at the frame. The ID photos arranged by time kept drawing his attention.
As a kid, with chubby cheeks, he was quite cute. Who knew he’d done taekwondo? Smiling brightly with missing front teeth.
Choi Sungbin glanced around, though no one was coming.
Is this stealing?
He felt a pang of guilt but brushed it off.
It’s my boyfriend’s photo, so what?
He took the photo that seemed the youngest, probably before elementary school.
To avoid notice, he pulled the other photos forward. He slipped the photo into his wallet. It was strange that Yang Juwon grew up in this small room.
It was his first time at someone’s family home, not a studio. Naturally, there’d been no one to visit like this.
The house had a smell. Not unpleasant, just strong. Yang Juwon didn’t smell like this. Worried the scent had stuck, he sniffed his sleeve. Just faint cologne.
Hahaha, laughter leaked in from outside.
“Annoying.”
Choi Sungbin muttered to himself.
What’s so funny this late? Curious, but he stood still, staring at the closed door.
He wanted to leave but didn’t want to go out. He didn’t want to see the gathered family. Why bother? Better to pretend he didn’t hear and keep exploring the room.
“Wow, oppa, you’re hilarious!”
At that, he turned the doorknob and opened it. What’s so funny about Yang Juwon?
Poking his head out, he saw his father and sister laughing together. Yang Juwon, supposedly hilarious, was nowhere in sight.
“Son, perfect timing. We were about to call you for fruit.”
His mother, coming from the kitchen, greeted him warmly. Choi Sungbin slowly stepped forward.
“Looking at old photos again? Don’t you two get tired of it?”
“Why? Oppa’s here, so… Oh, oppa, come look too.”
Choi Sungbin pursed his lips, hands behind his back, and approached. He peeked curiously. Piles of albums were stacked up.
The albums annoyed him too. In a world where everything’s saved with a click, why bother with albums?
“You organized all these?”
“Of course, they’re childhood photos.”
“That’s a lot. Won’t it be a hassle to throw out later?”
His mother tilted her head.
“Throw out albums? You keep them for life. When Juwon gets married and moves out, I’ll give them to him.”
Oops. She made albums to keep forever. But why? They’re just clutter.
Perfect timing—Yang Juwon came out of the bathroom. He wore unfamiliar clothes, probably casual homewear: a dull gray t-shirt and shorts.
Choi Sungbin scanned him disapprovingly. Married, my ass. This guy’s panting after me.
“What’s up?”
Yang Juwon shook his hair with a towel around his neck. He looked relaxed at home. Annoying. Even that bugged Choi Sungbin.
“Looking at photos again? You’re not watching videos on the TV next, are you?”
“Not anymore. Actually, your dad wanted to look, but… never mind.”
Yang Juwon seemed used to looking at photos too.
His mother set down a tray, and his father peeled fruit. Choi Sungbin sat and looked at the photos. Nothing special.
Yang Juwon making a V-sign at an amusement park. Floating alone in a tube in the sea. Building a sandcastle. Crying after falling. Holding a missing tooth with an excited face. Carrying his sister in the yard…
Ordinary moments, but each photo held affection.
He really grew up loved. Even seeing him in an oversized school uniform in the yard lost its charm.
“…”
The mood cooled. So he grew up loved—what’s that to me? Didn’t I already know? He lived the opposite of me.
Struggling to manage his expression, he chewed his lips. His father handed him a peeled apple and spoke.
“Sungbin, your childhood photos must be fun to see. You’re so pretty now; your parents must’ve loved taking them.”