EMP Chapter 20

[Kim Suhyeok, 10:23 AM] I’m sorry.

[Kim Suhyeok, 11:02 AM] Please, just pick up the phone.

[Kim Suhyeok, 12:10 PM] I swear I won’t tell anyone…

[Kim Suhyeok, 1:10 PM] Are you Park Juyeon by any chance?

[Kim Suhyeok, 1:10 PM] Seriously, what are you thinking? What if I report this?

[Kim Suhyeok, 2:13 PM] Just leave the kid alone, please. You crazy bastard, why are you doing this?

The messages ended there. Park Juyeon scrolled down the screen, though it wouldn’t scroll any further.

“…I don’t like this.”

“What? Who?”

“Someone. A sly bastard.”

“Wow, Park Juyeon using harsh words… You must really hate him.”

“I’m not joking. I really hate him.”

The last message had arrived over three hours ago. That wasn’t like Kim Suhyeok at all.

An unpleasant feeling prodded at Park Juyeon’s mind. It was sharp and close, like a sense of foreboding that felt almost tangible when he turned his head. The one who snapped him out of his rigid expression was Lee Woojin, seated beside him.

“Anyway, are you going to tell me or not?”

“…Tell you what.”

Right. It was all something that hadn’t happened yet. Thinking about it now wouldn’t help. Park Juyeon sighed and clicked his tongue. The air felt smoky. Smoking heavily in a car with someone who was practically a non-smoker—how inconsiderate. Yet, he didn’t feel like stopping him, so he just sat there blankly, blinking.

Lee Woojin clicked his tongue and stubbed out the nearly burnt cigarette in the ashtray.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You’re not seriously clueless about this.”

“…”

“Just tell that bastard Kwon Jiwook and be done with it. From what I heard last time, it really seems like he doesn’t remember.”

Lee Woojin was right. If it was something Kwon Jiwook would never remember, if it was a past doomed to fade away quietly, then it was all the more reason to confront him and speak up. Especially if it was going to be dismissed as a mere lie.

But Park Juyeon still harbored a contradictory feeling. A part of him wanted Kwon Jiwook to know everything about their connection and regret it, while another part wished to bury it all and continue this precarious relationship as it was.

Sensing this conflict, Lee Woojin irritably pulled out another cigarette and placed it between his lips.

“How long are you going to keep this up? Are you planning to follow Kwon Jiwook around forever?”

“I didn’t know I was such an indecisive person.”

“No, honestly, you’ve always been indecisive. You’ve been soft-hearted since you were a kid.”

Lee Woojin didn’t like how Park Juyeon seemed to cling to Kwon Jiwook in ways he might not even realize. Narrowing his eyes, Lee Woojin came to a conclusion: Park Juyeon still hadn’t freed himself from Kwon Jiwook.

“Should’ve just left it to me.” Lee Woojin clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Cleaning up messes like this was practically his specialty as a former gangster, and he was confident he could handle it more decisively than Park Juyeon. Besides, Park Juyeon wasn’t the only one with debts to settle. So first, he’d crush that bastard, and then…

While Lee Woojin let his imagination run wild about what was to come, Park Juyeon stared out at the hospital visible through the windshield and murmured,

“Then, oh decisive Woojin, what do you think I should do?”

“Are you kidding me? Isn’t it obvious? Just spill everything already and let me have some fun too.”

“Have fun, huh.” Park Juyeon tilted his head back. Could he, who was closest to Kwon Jiwook and had been manipulating him, say he’d had any fun? No, not yet. It wasn’t satisfying.

“What makes you think you get to have fun? I don’t like that.”

“…You brat.”

Park Juyeon glanced at Lee Woojin’s profile and chuckled lightly.

“Even if I answer politely, you’d still make a fuss.”

“Where the hell did you learn to talk like that?”

“Even when I answer, you still lose it. Sir.”

Lee Woojin let out a short laugh at Park Juyeon’s flatly sarcastic tone, but it was brief. Fidgeting with the edge of his cigarette filter, Lee Woojin spoke again.

“I’m asking because I’m not the only one who’s been through hell. Sure, I’ve been through a lot, but you’ve had it way worse. Our cute little bastard… acting like an old man at 21 because you grew up too fast—it’s pitiful, you know?”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, so why not just deal with Kwon Jiwook, bury it all, and move on already?”

If he were to nitpick, Park Juyeon wasn’t 21 but 22. He stayed quiet, arms crossed, sinking into the car seat before responding out of the blue.

“No matter what, I’d still be more mature than you, who’s spent years tiptoeing around and feeling guilty for hitting the wrong person once. You’ve worked so hard to cater to me, Woojin.”

“Hey, that’s… ugh, screw it. I don’t know.”

Park Juyeon’s words, digging into his past mistakes, left Lee Woojin speechless. He stammered a few times, flustered, before scratching the back of his head and turning to look out the window. He could feel Park Juyeon laughing softly beside him.

Hearing that easy, scattered laughter, Lee Woojin eventually straightened his posture. His expression turned uncharacteristically serious.

“But honestly… I don’t get what you’re planning to do now. Even now, all you’re doing is keeping that bastard tied down and….”

“Yeah. Giving him exactly what I went through. Why?”

“…”

“That’s what revenge is, isn’t it? It’s only natural.”

Isn’t it? Park Juyeon muttered calmly. Lee Woojin, who had started the conversation, couldn’t find anything to say in response. Park Juyeon turned to him, as if to point out the obvious, and said,

“Why are you looking at me like that? You already know, don’t you?”

“…Know what?”

“This is nothing more than child’s play.”

The bright smile Park Juyeon had moments ago seemed like a dream. His words, cold and sharp as frost, made Lee Woojin nod reluctantly. Child’s play. It wasn’t entirely wrong.

To shift the mood, Lee Woojin cleared his throat. As he stubbed out the barely smoked cigarette in the ashtray, Park Juyeon quickly opened the car door and stepped outside, as if he’d been waiting for that exact moment.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. By the way, how long’s it been since you last saw your mom?”

Park Juyeon slipped his phone into his pocket without a word and began walking toward the hospital. Hands stuffed in his pockets, Lee Woojin lazily followed behind.

The answer came after a long silence.

“Not quite three weeks… A little over two.”

“…You crazy bastard.”

Even he thought so. Park Juyeon didn’t deny it and nodded slightly. Behind him, he could hear Lee Woojin clicking his tongue in disapproval.

It had already been that long since the day he brought Kwon Jiwook out.

It wasn’t just Kwon Jiwook who had no sense of time. From the start, even the homeowner had been detached. Pouring all his attention into Kwon Jiwook like a madman, keeping an eye on him to prevent any reckless behavior, and perversely enjoying watching him gradually deteriorate. In his own way, he lived like a wreck—different from Kwon Jiwook, but a wreck nonetheless. Even Lee Woojin, who occasionally kept in touch, was left shaking his head at the state of things.

“I couldn’t help it.”

That’s what he told himself for comfort. If only Kwon Jiwook hadn’t said something that got under his skin that day, there wouldn’t have been a reason to spiral into this level of sensitivity.

“Your mom’s probably furious.”

“…I’ll have to beg.”

Park Juyeon muttered gloomily. The only son who made a point to visit every week or two had disappeared without a word. He couldn’t imagine how his sensitive mother might have reacted. On top of that, her condition showed no signs of improvement. The thought made him quicken his pace.

“…Tch.”

What an idiot, Lee Woojin thought, scratching his ear absentmindedly as he followed behind.

Using the guardian pass he’d received, Park Juyeon opened the door to the ward. The eyes of those moving through the hallway turned to them instantly. Two tall figures in muted colors strolling through the ward—especially the larger man, who walked with a swagger and a whistle—were bound to draw attention. But the stares dispersed just as quickly, as if the onlookers decided these two weren’t worth lingering on.

“…This is why I hate coming with you. Everyone hates it.”

“What the hell do you want me to do? What did I even do wrong?”

Ignoring the indignant look on Lee Woojin’s face, Park Juyeon walked straight into the room.

A spacious single-occupancy room with a solitary bed in the center. Behind the carefully drawn privacy screen, a faint silhouette was visible. Taking a deep breath, Park Juyeon slowly approached and pulled the screen aside completely.

Sitting on the bed was a middle-aged woman. Her face held a blend of sharpness and serenity. She had the delicate beauty of a flower nurtured in a greenhouse, exuding elegance. Despite her slightly gaunt appearance, her striking features betrayed little of her age. She fixed her gaze on Park Juyeon.

“……”

The guilty Park Juyeon had something he needed to say first.

“Uh, I’m sorry, Mom.”

“……”

“For not contacting you.”

Uncharacteristically, Park Juyeon scratched the back of his neck with an awkward expression. Lee Woojin chuckled, clearly enjoying the sight. The woman lifted the corners of her mouth in a faint smile.

“Alright.”

At her response, Park Juyeon visibly relaxed his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. Thankfully, the woman didn’t seem overly upset. As Park Juyeon casually scanned her surroundings, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

The usual image of her sitting quietly appeared off. Although she was seated upright, her arms were awkwardly splayed apart. With a frown, Park Juyeon lifted the edge of the thick blue blanket draped over her. Her wrists were tied to the bed rails. The skin around the bandages was speckled with faint bloodstains. His eyes narrowed.

“Mom. Did you pull out the IV again?”

“I was feeling stifled. You weren’t here, and my friends hardly visit anymore.”

“Ha.”

Park Juyeon sighed, his voice tinged with both frustration and pity. Looking down at her with dark eyes that wavered slightly, he gently held her frail hand and then carefully covered her back up with the blanket.

“What is this? Huh? I told you not to do this. When you do, they tie your hands, and you feel even more stifled. How many times has this happened now…?”

“……”

The woman said nothing. Her gaze alone seemed to say, You weren’t here. In the silent exchange of glances, it was Park Juyeon who relented first. Once again, he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Other than that, her condition today didn’t seem too bad. Judging by the light conversation that followed, things were relatively stable. Even the stiffly tense Park Juyeon gradually eased up as they talked.

That was until an unwelcome topic came up.

“But, Juyeon.”

“Yes?”

“Have you been very busy lately? Why haven’t you been in touch?”

Even Lee Woojin, who had been steering the conversation with all the social skills he could muster, held his tongue and glanced cautiously at the woman at that moment.

“I’ve just been a bit out of it… The semester’s over, but, uh, I still have some assignments left.”

Park Juyeon’s response came out smoothly, as though he had prepared for this. Yet the woman’s eyes began to narrow, her gaze filled with suspicion as she stared right through him. Realizing his mistake, Park Juyeon quickly added,

“Really. I mean it.”

“You’ve never been late with assignments before. You’re lying to me.”

“No, it’s just… a late assignment that came out recently…”

“These days, schools still give out vacation homework… Ha.”

The conversation felt strangely out of sync. The words seemed to connect, yet there was an odd nuance that didn’t quite sit right. Park Juyeon’s wide-open eyes narrowed suspiciously as he picked up on the subtle shift. The moment he realized something was off, his mother dropped a bombshell no one could have anticipated.

“Juyeon, you’re not still meeting with Jiwook, are you?”

“…What?”

Why that name, of all names, was coming out of her mouth—he couldn’t understand.

Park Juyeon’s gaze, fixed on his mother, wavered. Even Lee Woojin, who had been quietly observing the exchange, was uncharacteristically taken aback, glancing between the two.

Was this the reason the conversation had felt off earlier?

Park Juyeon clamped his mouth shut. He unconsciously held his breath, simply staring at his mother. He couldn’t do anything else. No words came to him, nor did he know what he could possibly say. His bewildered gaze scattered aimlessly into the air. Meanwhile, his mother, oblivious to her son’s reaction, continued to chatter on.

“I told you not to hang out with someone like that, didn’t I? Juyeon, you’ve changed since you started spending time with him.”

“……”

“You used to tell me everything, but now you’re full of secrets. You’re always out and about these days.”

“Ah, come on, Ma’am. He’s not a kid anymore, you know? He really has been working on assignments. Homework, yeah, homework.”

“You’ve been running around with him so much that you don’t even come to see me anymore. Don’t think I don’t know—I know everything.”

Having grasped the situation faster than Park Juyeon, Lee Woojin gently guided the woman back onto the bed, holding her shoulders. “Ma’am, relax. Relax. What are you even talking about?” he coaxed. During this, Park Juyeon remained frozen, his face betraying utter bewilderment, blinking rapidly in disbelief.

The woman sighed heavily, her weary eyes looking up at Lee Woojin. Our Juyeon should only meet good friends, she murmured tiredly, her voice poking at something deep in Park Juyeon’s chest.

“…Ha…”

Snapping out of it, Park Juyeon fell silent. To his mother, he still seemed like a child. Somehow, it felt like everyone—on both sides—was desperately running away from that time. The time he could neither escape from nor forget, etched into his very bones.

In the end, he was the only one who remembered those days fully. A sudden loneliness washed over him.

“I don’t hang out with that Hyung anymore. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“……”

Her dark, unreadable eyes—so similar to Park Juyeon’s—flicked briefly between him and Lee Woojin. Park Juyeon didn’t avoid her gaze. There was only one person at the root of it all. His face twisted with an expression of pain he couldn’t hide.

“…I’m sorry. I must have been really out of it lately.”

“Juyeon, it’s okay. Even if you don’t contact me much, I’m honestly okay with that.”

“……”

“But what I want is for our Juyeon not to go down a bad path. That’s all I need.”

Park Juyeon bit his lip. Hearing such words from her, of all people, was undoubtedly his fault. No matter how distracted or preoccupied he had been, he couldn’t afford to lose sight of his purpose. He couldn’t let himself forget who was responsible for creating this situation in the first place.

“Juyeon, I know you’re shy, so I thought having at least one friend like that might be good for you, but…”

“Mom.”

She blinked slowly, raising the corners of her mouth into a faint smile. Her face, worn with exhaustion, was a mirror image of Park Juyeon’s.

“Still, don’t get too close. Just in case.”

A heavy silence fell over the hospital room. His mother closed her eyes as if overcome with fatigue. Park Juyeon watched her quietly, while Lee Woojin glanced nervously between them before retreating to a corner, muttering curses under his breath.

Fortunately, the uncomfortable silence didn’t last long. A soft knock at the door was followed by the entrance of a nurse. Catching the eyes of the two visitors, she bowed politely.

“Ma’am, it’s time for your medication since you’ve had your meal.”

“……”

“Why aren’t you answering again? It’s already been an hour. You’re supposed to take it 30 minutes after eating.”

“I’ll do it. Just give it to me and go,” Park Juyeon interjected, taking the evening meds from the nurse’s hands and nudging her gently toward the door. The nurse hesitated briefly but, seemingly pressed for time, quickly explained the medication instructions, thanked him, and left in a rush.

Fiddling with the medication packet in his hands, Park Juyeon spoke softly.

“These meds. You know you can’t skip them, right?”

“Yes, I know. I’ll take them. Just leave them there.”

“……”

Leave them there? How many times had he found the prescribed medication left untouched on the table? Every time, he had to insist she take them, scolding her about the importance of consistency. But she never listened, leaving no choice but for someone to administer them to her directly. No wonder the nurse looked so weary the moment she entered the room. Especially now, with the restraints in place.

After ensuring she took her meds, Park Juyeon finally sighed and stood up.

“I’m leaving now.”

“Juyeon, think carefully about what I said.”

“I know what you mean. You’re telling me to choose my friends wisely.”

A bitter smile lingered on his lips. Lee Woojin offered an awkward chuckle, bowing politely before pulling back the privacy screens and following him out.

Park Juyeon’s measured steps grew faster as they exited the ward.

“How long has it been?”

“Since we got here? About… an hour, I think.”

“I see. That’s it, huh.”

He glanced at the unanswered messages and missed calls from four hours ago. His face, fixed on the phone, resembled a wax figure—completely devoid of expression. His voice, when he spoke, was equally flat.

“Woojin, I’m really conflicted right now.”

“Why? About what?”

Without another word, Park Juyeon opened a voice recording app, scrolled through the list, and tapped on a recording from four hours ago.

“How I’m going to deal with that bastard Kwon Jiwook.”