OTC Chapter 15

Lee Jaeheon dwelled on the feeling of being dragged through the mud, turning the situation over and over in his mind.

He laced his fingers behind his head, tapping his foot as he sank into deep thought. But old habits die hard.

He knew how to shake off this lousy feeling.

He grabbed the apron hanging in the cabinet, slung it around his neck, and slammed the door shut.

The thin, flimsy aluminum cabinet door creaked open again. Clenching his jaw, he slammed it shut once more, his hand leaving a momentary print on the matte surface.

He stared at the closed door, then pulled back the curtain covering one side of the studio. Behind it stood his final project for his graduation exhibition. It was roughly his height, a bizarre construction of haphazardly welded blades that resembled a robot.

He switched on the welding machine and took a few steps back.

The title of the piece was <Waste>. His professor had subtly suggested, “My Beloved Misfortune.” But from the beginning, he’d intended to call it <Waste>.

Holding the welding torch, he reinforced the joints of the blades, melting them together. The piece, as tall as him but with a slender frame, seemed like a self-portrait.

Perhaps it represented the modern individual, concealing sharp blades within their soft flesh.

Everyone carried sharp weapons within them. Weapons they could draw at any moment to stab and mutilate others before concealing them once more. But each time they were drawn, each time they were sheathed these weapons, they tore through their own soft flesh, drawing blood.

And yet, people claimed they could endure such pain. Because the fleeting pangs of guilt and depression that followed were nothing compared to the pleasure of witnessing another’s suffering.

They bled profusely, oblivious to the fact that the pooling blood could lead to their demise, until they became waste themselves.

<廢: Waste>

There wasn’t any grand meaning behind the title. There was no need to overthink it because it was simply the exposed truth of the pervasive existence surrounding him.

But interestingly enough, Jung Eunkyo had no such “waste” within her.

Instead of sharp, threatening blades, she carried a dull knife. She knew that a dull blade inflicted a deeper, more lingering pain. She was a woman who knew that her own suffering, the gnawing ache of that dull blade, was far greater than the pleasure of witnessing another’s pain.

Damn it, was she kind, or just stupid…? 

Or was she clever, pretending to be a fool?

Jaeheon dipped his feet into a bowl of alginate, the dental material he had mixed with hot water. The work would be finished once he covered the grotesque interior with a presentable exterior, but he had yet to complete the heart of the piece.

After making a mold of his foot, he looked up with a tired expression. The sky was beginning to brighten.

It was 6:30 a.m.

No wonder he was starting to feel drowsy. He pushed the artwork back behind the curtain, tidied up the mess, and left the studio.

Judging by the clear light streaming down the stairwell, the rain had stopped, and the sky had cleared.

He climbed the stairs, his feet crunching on scattered shards of sunlight. The door to Cafe Haeda was still closed, is cream-colored interior quiet.

And a single folding umbrella stood by the entrance. His gaze darkened as he looked at the umbrella, which had remained there all night, untouched. 

Jaeheon unlocked his car door, its surface clean from the overnight rain. He blasted the air conditioner to dispel the muggy air inside and sat there for a moment, the engine running.

It was clean and quiet.

So much so that the loud rumbling of the car engine felt intrusive.

A stinging pain shot through his hand as he gripped the steering wheel. He opened his palm and saw a deep cut. The blood had dried and crusted over, and the wound closed, but each movement tore at the edges, sending a jolt of pain through him.

He leaned his head back against the headrest.

Oblivious to the bleeding, his thoughts remained consumed on another’s face.

The feel of her hand brushing against his lips. Her clear brown eyes, stared intently at him.

Her merciless lips, seemingly unaware of the fever still raging within him.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

– Lee Jaeheon, what the hell!

Kim Haeda’s irritated voice burst from the receiver, which Jaeheon had answered half-asleep. Still lying face down on the bed, Jaeheon opened his eyes and checked the time.

10:30 a.m. Just after Cafe Haeda would have opened.

Jaeheon hung up without hesitation. The phone rang again almost immediately. This time, he sat up on the bed and answered, his head lowered.

“What?”

– What the hell did you do to Eunkyo last night? Huh?

Eunkyo.

Fuck.

Hearing Kim Haeda say Jung Eunkyo’s name filled him with a sudden rage.

He got out of bed, turned on some music on his tablet, and pulled back the curtains.

“Was the CCTV installed in the cafe for your personal surveillance? Not for customer safety?”

– Hey!

Kim Haeda yelled, then took a deep breath to calm down and continued in a more subdued tone,

– Eunkyo slept in the storage room last night. I was just checking to see if anything happened.

“Ah… I see.”

So it was Jung Eunkyo’s umbrella.

– I see? Tell me, why did you go looking for Eunkyo at that hour? She’s not the type to hole up somewhere like that, so why! What did you do? Why are you messing with Eunkyo again!

“Keep your voice down. What about you… why do you care so much about Jung Eunkyo?”

The unpleasant feeling he’d experienced before dawn crept back in. He was angry thinking about Jung Eunkyo huddled in the corner of the storage room, and irritated thinking about Kim Haeda finding her there.

– Don’t you know what Eunkyo and I are?

“Ah, friends? But noona’s the only one who thinks of you as a friend, and you don’t, do you?”

– What?

“Aren’t you acting all innocent when you never intended to be just friends in the first place?”

– Hey… watch what you say.

“You’re the one who’s out of line, hyung. Have you already forgotten? What you did to Eunkyo noona while she was sleeping. I saw it all. It’s hard to watch a beast like you pretend to be her friend for so long, without a shred of conscience.”

– You son of a bitch, it was just a kiss! Just a kiss!

“I know. If you’d done anything more, I would have killed you right there. I would’ve killed you myself, hyung.”

He put the call on speakerphone and went into the kitchen.

Kim Haeda remained silent, knowing Lee Jaeheon wasn’t joking. He opened the refrigerator, took out an apple, leaned casually against the island counter, and bit into the crisp, sweet, and tart fruit.

“Let’s be honest with each other, shall we?”

– Hah.

“You don’t want to lose Jung Eunkyo as a friend, but you do want to ruin her relationships. You try to push away and remove anyone who gets close to her, to wipe out every connection around her. That’s… a fucking psychopathic behavior. You know that, right?”

Lee Jaeheon’s eyes, though gently curved in a soft smile, held a cold glint as he stared straight ahead.

From the beginning, Jaeheon had no intention of breaking the mask Haeda wore as a “friend.” Kim Haeda had to remain Jung Eunkyo’s friend, and Jaeheon would ensure to maintain that relationship until the end.

Therefore, Kim Haeda should never even think of taking off that mask himself.

He wanted Kim Haeda to wear an even thicker mask of friendship to prevent his shallow affection, stemming from their friendship, from developing into something more.

“I’m curious, though… What kind of man would a crazy bastard like you, obsessed with Jung Eunkyo, introduce to her? Ah, should I take a guess?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, sharp and mocking, as the white and red flesh of the apple crunching between his teeth. Swallowing the tart juice that made him wince, he continued,

“You’ll probably pick out guys who are exactly like Lee Dohyun. Picking someone similar, one after another, just to leave her with nothing but disgusting, twisted feelings. A ploy to make her reject them herself. Damn it… why are you so twisted?”

The call abruptly disconnected.

Jaeheon let out a cold, dry laugh and wiped the apple juice from his lips.

His mouth was sweet, but his insides were bitter.

His mind was clear, but his heart burned.

Kim Haeda would never let Jung Eunkyo go. That clever bastard knew that their relationship was too fragile to withstand a single wrong word.

He finished the apple, leaving only the core, and went to the sink to wash his hands. A message had arrived from the father he had been ignoring.

「I’ll send you a car. It will arrive soon. Bring your mother on your birthday. Let’s have dinner together.」

Jaeheon considered the date, then replied.

「I’m sorry, Father. I have a preview screening to attend that day. Thank you for the gift. I’ll definitely bring Mom with me next time. ^^」

He deleted the smiley emoticon before sending the message. He refreshed the app, but Jung Eunkyo’s name still hadn’t appeared.

He slowly rubbed his temples, his lips twisting into a subtle smirk.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I’ll head out first. I need to work on my manuscript.”

For four days straight, Eunkyo had been the first to pack up and leave. Kim Haeda had been in a foul mood for about the same amount of time. Caught in the middle, Seontae diligently focused on his work, nervously trying to gauge their moods.

Eunkyo discreetly glanced outside and saw Lee Jaeheon’s car parked there. She hurried upstairs to her apartment. Her heart lurched for no reason as she opened the door and slammed it shut.

“Ha.”

Stupid.

She was actively avoiding Lee Jaeheon. There wasn’t any particular reason. It just felt like their emotions had become tangled in a strange way, and she didn’t want to see him right now.

To be honest, it was more accurate to say she was avoiding him to prevent herself from crossing a line.

That was the truth.

That was why she’d been leaving work earlier than usual every day and spending her days off holed up at home, writing. But the day she had been dreading finally arrived.

– Don’t be late, alright? The video turned out really great.

She’d let her hair down for the first time in a while and even put on some light makeup. She traded her usual student-like attire, opting for pleated dress pants and a sleeveless top, bringing a cardigan along just in case.

Eunkyo liked how much more mature she looked in the mirror than usual.

“Alright. I’m leaving now.”

– Oh, you can come with Jaeheon.

“Mr. Lee Jaeheon? Why would I…?”

– That’s what Jaeheon said. That he’d pick you up. What, you two got close, didn’t you?

Eunkyo bit her lip, then forced a smile and agreed. If Lee Jaeheon said so, that’s what would happen.

As proof, she’d been hearing the low rumble of a car engine from downstairs for a while now.

5 p.m.

Friday at 5 p.m. was rush hour everywhere. Eunkyo grabbed her leather handbag, which she rarely used, and her high heels, and left her apartment, determined.

Click-clacking down the stairs in her heels, she saw Lee Jaeheon, who had been waiting in front of the building, looking up. His eyes narrowed as he spotted her.

He was dressed in a formal suit, unlike his usual casual attire, his hands tucked in his pockets, as he took a step towards her. The cool, heavy scent of his cologne and his neatly styled hair were markedly different from his usual appearance.

She bit the inside of her lip and took another step down. 

He looked up and spoke,

“It’s been a while, sunbae.”