LA0S | Chapter 10

“Didn’t I tell you to respond to my messages? I can tolerate a lot, but ghosting? No way. At least come up with an excuse.”

“Why should I need an excuse for something I didn’t do wrong? I can’t respond to something I didn’t receive, you idiot!”

The loud shout, laced with curses, echoed in the unusually quiet surroundings. People who had stepped out to relax or were chatting nearby flinched and turned to look at us.

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Words like “Art Department,” “Kim Chayoung,” “Creative Writing Department’s Lee Jinha,” “Do they know each other?” “Things seem tense… are they fighting?” and “A fight?” floated through the murmurs.

“What do you mean ‘can’t respond to something I didn’t receive’? Obviously….”

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“Obviously what?”

Kim Chayoung’s eyes locked directly onto mine. This time, it was clearly his fault, so I had no reason to back down. I stared right back at him confidently.

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Whatever he was thinking, the grip that felt like it could tear my sleeve loosened slightly.

“You didn’t ignore my messages on purpose, did you? Then why weren’t you at the meeting spot? And why were all my calls going to voicemail?”

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“I waited at the Humanities lounge for over an hour. You’re the one who stood me up, so why are you yelling at me? Do you realize how ridiculous you’re being right now?”

“Why would I stand you up? I sent a message yesterday saying I had to move our meeting to 5 PM because I had a professor meeting.”

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“Send a message, my ass.”

I couldn’t believe he was lying about something so easily disproven. Sensing my disbelief, Chayoung muttered, “Wait a second,” and reached for his phone. It seemed to be in his left pocket, but since he was still holding onto me with his left hand, he struggled to retrieve it.

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“Let go of my arm.”

“No. You’ll just run away.”

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He stubbornly refused and finally managed to open his messenger app.

April 23rd, Tuesday
Didn’t expect to see you there. It’s been a while. (8:01 PM) (1)

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Did you get home safely? (9:06 PM) (1)

Are you asleep? (1:03 AM) (1)

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April 24th, Wednesday
Sorry, but I think I’ll need to push our meeting to 5 PM tomorrow ㅠ
I suddenly got an interview with the professor… (11:27 AM) (1)

Can’t you at least send a dot or something? (11:47 AM) (1)

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April 25th, Thursday
I don’t mind if you leave me on read, but at least check my messages. (5:19 PM) (1)

Heading over now. (4:32 PM) (1)

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Let’s meet in the lounge. (4:32 PM) (1)

Where are you, Lee Jinha? (5:35 PM) (1)

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??? Jinha? (6:29 PM) (1)

Jinha. (7:04 PM) (1)

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From the day they reunited through Shin Youngmin until today, his messages had been piling up, one-sidedly. The small ‘1’ bubble next to each message proved they had gone unread.

What the heck? Nothing actually came through. I tilted my head and checked my phone. Not only were there no messages, but the chatroom with him didn’t even exist.

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“Did you leave me on read and delete the chat?”

“Why would I go to the trouble of doing that?”

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Finding this odd, Chayoung called my number. His brow furrowed deeply. He hung up, dialed again, and switched to speaker mode.

“What’s with the speakerphone all of a sudden?”

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Ring, ring… The customer you are trying to reach cannot accept calls at this time….

The automated response echoed loudly in the spring night. He was definitely calling me, yet my phone remained silent. It didn’t take much to figure out what this meant. Chayoung glared at my unresponsive phone with a frozen expression.

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“Jinha. Is your phone unable to receive calls right now?”

“Huh? That can’t be. Did it suddenly break or something…?”

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I trailed off uncertainly. His Adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he swallowed hard, like he was trying to keep his emotions in check.

“This time, you call me. You know my number, right?”

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“I don’t. Why would I remember that?”

Of course, I remembered it perfectly. It was as clear in my mind as if it had been stamped there. But there was no way I was going to admit that. At my curt response, he let out a short sigh before reciting his number.

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The moment the call connected, his phone lit up like a beacon in the darkness. The surrounding dimness only made it stand out more.

His messages to me had been completely ignored, yet my call to him went through without issue. The implication was obvious.

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“Hey, Jinha.” One of his eyebrows arched in disbelief. He let out a dry laugh and met my eyes.

“You seriously blocked me?”

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“Ah.”

It was a sound caught between realization and resignation. Chayoung shifted his weight, leaning slightly forward with one leg extended. His posture practically demanded an explanation.

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It wasn’t until this moment that I vaguely remembered. Four years ago, after that incident, I had immediately blocked his number. Not only that, but I had moved out of my place into a goshiwon he didn’t know about. At the time, it felt like the best choice. His words had kept echoing in my head, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Jinha. Even back then…!”

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His face contorted sharply with anger. But instead of exploding, he took several deep breaths, visibly trying to hold himself together. The sharp exhalations hit my cheek.

I instinctively stepped back. He looked down at his now empty hand—the one that had been gripping my arm moments ago—before lowering it slowly.

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“Unblock me. We’ve got a lot of reasons to stay in touch.” His voice was calm again, but with an undertone of irritation.

“Fine.”

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“Do it now. Right in front of me.”

He gave a commanding jerk of his chin. Though I hadn’t done anything wrong, I felt like I was being scolded.

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Honestly, isn’t it funnier that he still had my number saved? If we had parted on bad terms, deleting it would’ve been normal. Or maybe even deleting it had felt like too much effort for him.

With a bitter expression, I opened the blocked list. Sure enough, his name was at the top.

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“Wow. You really did block me.”

Ignoring his incredulous muttering, I unblocked him.

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A notification from him immediately popped up on the still-lit screen.

Kim Chayoung (Contest Artist)
Lee Jinha (8:43 PM)

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This time, it was marked as read instantly.

“Happy now? I’m leaving.”

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“Not so fast. We need to talk. Busy or not, we were supposed to settle on a synopsis today, remember? We also need to plan our schedule.”

Reluctantly, I followed him back to the library lounge. Strangely, it was even more crowded now than during the day. The first floor was packed, so we found a spot in the middle of the second floor. Chayoung placed one of the two drinks he got from the vending machine in front of me. I glanced at it briefly but didn’t touch it.

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“Do you have a specific genre in mind? If you’ve written any synopses, let me see them. Or at least give me some keywords.”

Instead of answering, I slid my navy notebook across the table. He began flipping through it slowly.

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Watching him brought to mind the conversation I had overheard earlier between Shin Yoona and her friends.

My gaze naturally, almost reflexively, settled on him. His slightly upturned lips gave his face a gentle look, even when he wasn’t smiling. His actual personality was just as kind. The kind of guy who could date someone he didn’t even like. I just wished he hadn’t been like that with me.

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The first day I really noticed the name Kim Chayoung was during lunch. Our class was playing soccer against Class 3. It was a fierce match, with dirt flying everywhere, but Class 2—our class—emerged victorious.

The score was 4 to 3, just a single goal difference. And that last goal had come in the final minute, boosting everyone’s morale sky-high.

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The disappointed Class 3 boys left muttering villainous lines like, “We’ll get you next time,” while the boys in my class tore off their P.E. jerseys and hugged each other like maniacs. The girls who had been watching were quick to scold them, saying they were an eyesore and should put their shirts back on.

“See? I told you I have an eye for talent. Though, I didn’t expect to score two goals myself.”

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Chayoung wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Despite the lingering chill of late spring, he was drenched in sweat from running non-stop for 30 minutes. His thin PE shirt clung to his well-built frame, revealing his solid physique.

Unlike his fresh, sprout-like face, his body was surprisingly well-developed. He plopped down on the ground, breathing heavily. His damp hair fluttered as sweat droplets scattered.

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“You scored the winning goal too, didn’t you?” I glanced at his heaving chest before muttering. Chayoung grinned mischievously and mimicked a soccer kick with his foot.

“Great assist, by the way. That pass totally caught them off guard.”

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“Not really.”

“Ooh, so modest. You were holding your own against the soccer club. Seriously, you killed it, Jinha.”

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“Cut it out.”

Uncomfortable with the compliments, I scratched my cheek. Unlike the sweat-drenched Chayoung, I was only slightly warm. I glanced at the time awkwardly, realizing it was about time to head back to class.

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“Hey, Jinha.”

As I turned to leave, Chayoung called out, stretching his arms toward me. His mischievous grin deepened when I gave him a “What now?” look.

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“Help me up. I must’ve overdone it; my legs feel like jelly.”

For someone as bulky as him to act weak—it didn’t even warrant a chuckle. He waved his outstretched arms again. For someone I was talking to properly for the first time, he sure was sociable.

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“Hey, Jinha.” Before I could ignore him and walk away, he stopped me again.

“If you help me up now, I’ll treat you to fries. Even seasoned ones. Heck, let’s throw in nuggets for the full course. My treat.”

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How could I possibly refuse such an offer?