PS | Chapter 2.7

Jehyuk knew that letting him go was the right move.

But his gut twisted anyway.

If Kangmin decided to run his mouth just because he felt annoyed, if he twisted what happened here and spread rumors—what kind of bullshit would Bada have to deal with?

Jehyuk clenched his fists.

And then, against his better judgment—he grabbed Bada’s arm.

“I’ll give it to you.”

The second the words left his mouth, Bada whipped around so fast it was like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. His face lit up in an instant.

Meanwhile, Kangmin, who’d been sneakily glancing their way while scrolling through his phone, stared at Bada like he’d just seen a ghost.

Jehyuk already regretted it.

But it was too late. He couldn’t take it back now.

Shit. That was a mistake.

“…I’m not responsible for what happens. And don’t share it with anyone else.”

At this point, all he could do was try to minimize the damage.

“Yes! I swear I won’t tell anyone! I really mean it.”

“…Alright.”

“Thank you so much!”

Jehyuk said nothing and scribbled Sihoo’s number onto a crumpled piece of paper. It was a number he had memorized since the day Sihoo first gave it to him. He never once forgot it, so he didn’t even need to check his phone.

He tore the paper and held it out.

Bada took it with both hands, as if accepting a sacred treasure, his expression practically glowing. Like a little animal wagging its tail, thrilled beyond words.

“Seriously, sunbae! Thank you so much! If you ever need anything, just say the word. I can set up a group hangout, or even a blind date! Oh, but do you already have a girlfriend? You’re so good-looking, you have to, right—”

“He doesn’t.”

That was when Kangmin butted in again. The discomfort he had shown earlier was nowhere to be seen as he shamelessly inserted himself into the conversation, ready to jump on the bandwagon.

Jehyuk suppressed the urge to shove him away and instead decided to just listen.

“You should stop dating people from our department. Just go for someone from another one. No need to get tangled up in rumors because of someone like Hong Rina. Just take this chance and go on a group date.”

Ijun had said something similar before. Apparently, Rina had been talking a lot, trying to explain her side of things.

Thinking about all the rumors floating around made Jehyuk feel stifled.

But if he was being fair, Rina wasn’t lying. He had been a lousy boyfriend. Even if he wanted them gone, the rumors wouldn’t just disappear.

“So, should we do a 3-on-3? Or a 4-on-4?”

Bada moved things along like he was used to setting these up.

Kangmin immediately jumped in.

“4-on-4 is the way to go.”

Now completely back in a good mood, Kangmin clapped Jehyuk on the shoulder a couple of times.

Jehyuk, still expressionless, watched as Kangmin chattered away, acting all chummy. Even with Jehyuk’s cold stare, Kangmin simply smirked and continued running his mouth.

“I’m the one setting this up, so obviously, I’m in.”

There was no stopping it now.

Before Jehyuk could even reject the idea, the whole thing had already taken shape.

Bada and Kangmin carried on the conversation effortlessly without needing Jehyuk’s input at all. Left on the sidelines, Jehyuk just rubbed his face, feeling uneasy about giving Sihoo’s number away.

Technically speaking, Sihoo had never explicitly forbidden him from sharing it, so there was no clear problem.

But hearing from someone else that no one knew Sihoo’s number made it obvious—Sihoo had intentionally kept it private.

I shouldn’t have given it to him.

Regret hit him hard.

It felt like he had given away something Sihoo had entrusted only to him. The more he thought about it, the stronger the urge to take it all back, even if it meant embarrassing himself.

But…

“Since we’re talking about it, how about tonight? The soccer team doesn’t have evening practice today, right? You guys are managing your condition for the match in two days.”

“My friends are good to go. They’ve always said they wanted to meet P.E. department students. If we say 7 PM, they’ll all be free.”

“Okay, deal.”

While Jehyuk stayed silent, the decision was made without him.

They exchanged numbers and created a group chat.

If he backed out now, he’d just look like the worst kind of asshole.

A dull, heavy frustration settled in his chest.

It felt like watching himself dirty up a clean room with his own hands.

“…I wasn’t really planning on—”

As he mumbled, unsure of how to finish, both Bada and Kangmin turned to stare at him.

Under their scrutinizing gazes, Jehyuk felt a strange pressure, as if they were evaluating him.

“…Just don’t give Sihoo’s number to anyone else.”

In the end, Jehyuk gave in to reality.

He had already messed up.

Sihoo’s number was in Bada’s hands now, and there was no undoing it.

The last thing he wanted was to make this situation even worse.

“Yes! Thank you! See you tonight, then.”

Bada responded cheerfully before quickly heading back to his seat as the professor entered.

Jehyuk watched his retreating figure with a complicated expression, feeling strangely uneasy about how much lighter his steps seemed.

That was when Kangmin elbowed him.

“We’ve got an even guy-to-girl ratio now. Since these are Han Bada’s friends, they’re bound to be pretty. Damn, man, good looking out.”

All the hostility from earlier had completely vanished, and Kangmin was back to his usual, simple-minded self.

Annoyance flared in Jehyuk’s chest.

It wasn’t just Kangmin’s attitude that irritated him—it was also himself, for compromising just to avoid standing out.

But, as he had already realized—

He had made a decision he regretted.

There was no point in picking another fight with Kangmin now.

Letting out a slow breath, Jehyuk ran a hand through his hair and asked in a subdued voice,

“…Do you know him?”

“There’s no one in this class who doesn’t know Han Bada. Some guys even have a crush on him since he’s, you know, gay.”

Kangmin answered before Jehyuk could even ask further.

“Judging by the way he acts, though, he’s totally into Yoon Sihoo.”

He continued rambling before Jehyuk could stop him.

“But honestly? No way in hell. Han Bada’s a rare face, sure, but he’s nowhere near Sihoo’s level. Yoon Sihoo wouldn’t date anyone less than an idol or a model.”

Apparently, when people said everyone on campus knew Sihoo, Kangmin was no exception.

Jehyuk, already fed up with the nonsense, cut him off.

“Don’t talk about people behind their backs when no one’s around.”

Kangmin scoffed.

“Damn, what a boomer.”

But Kangmin didn’t snap like before.

For all his hot-headedness, he was a simple guy.

Before long, he was grinning again, tapping away on his phone, typing something in the group chat.

It must have been the P.E. department’s group chat because an alert popped up on Jehyuk’s phone too.

Seeing Im Kangmin’s name on his lock screen, Jehyuk absentmindedly swiped his finger across the glass.

Even though the screen was smooth, the sensation at his fingertips felt oddly sharp.

He stared blankly as message notifications piled up.

And then, it hit him.

What he had done—it looked like he had sold out Sihoo.

No, actually… hadn’t he really done just that?

Just to make things easier for himself?

The realization sent a heavy weight sinking in his stomach.

He had to tell Sihoo.

He had to apologize.

Unlocking his phone, Jehyuk pulled up his messaging app.

[Sihoo-ya.]

His hand stopped after writing the name. He couldn’t predict Sihoo’s reaction. Would he get angry? No, that wasn’t like Sihoo. Getting angry meant wasting emotions, and Sihoo didn’t do things like that. But he’d probably be annoyed.

Unable to sort out his tangled emotions, Jehyuk glanced at the back of Han Bada, who was sitting a few seats ahead. He was holding his phone, making it seem like he was already texting Sihoo.

A bubbling mix of emotions threatened to rise to the surface, but just then, the lecture began. Jehyuk kept staring at Han Bada’s excited posture before finally grabbing his own phone. He hesitated for a moment, then sent a message to Sihoo.

[Sihoo-ya, I gave your number to a guy named Han Bada.]

[He was practically begging me, so I just told him. But now that I think about it, I might’ve made a mistake. Sorry. If you’re okay with it, let’s meet up so I can explain.]

Even though it was an unusually long message for Jehyuk, Sihoo didn’t reply.

From the end of his liberal arts class, through his required major course, and even as he was dragged along by Im Kangmin, heading to a group blind date with Ijun—Sihoo’s response never came.

***

The meeting place was in Gangnam. Since the school was located in Gangbuk, on the complete opposite side, he had never passed through this area before. Just getting here had taken a solid hour by bus. Wasting this much time when he could have been practicing felt like a loss, but since he had already gotten dragged into this, canceling now felt pointless.

Exhausting.

Even before meeting anyone, Ji Jehyuk could feel himself getting drained. This feeling often crept up on him whenever he wasn’t working his part-time job or practicing. It resembled a kind of melancholy—like he was being chased by something if he wasn’t doing something useful. Right now was no different.

Looking back, there wasn’t much he had ever done purely because he wanted to, aside from soccer. The part-time job was a necessity because he lived independently, and dating had happened because rejecting the confession had felt too troublesome. And now, he was at this blind date meeting, pretending to be just another normal guy, simply because he didn’t want unnecessary rumors about him to spread.

Jehyuk had always been aware that he was a bit different from his peers. That’s why he avoided hanging out with his college classmates. Yoon Sihoo, however, was different. He had seen Jehyuk at his lowest, and strangely enough, they had similar traits. In many ways, Sihoo was the only person Jehyuk could truly call his own.

And now, he realized that his sense of unease wasn’t just from wasting time—it was also because of Sihoo. How ridiculous. It wasn’t like they talked constantly, but just because Sihoo hadn’t responded today, he was feeling restless.

But usually, Sihoo always replied within an hour, at most. He picked up calls immediately and texted back quickly unless he was in class. So if someone like that was staying silent the entire day, the reason was obvious.

It was because of what Jehyuk had done.

And when it came to bad situations, Jehyuk had an annoyingly sharp intuition.

This was the first time he had done something to feel guilty about toward Sihoo. In the first place, they had never gotten involved in each other’s business enough to even have reasons to apologize. But lately, they had grown closer, and it seemed like he had let his guard down. His chest felt heavy.

He knew better than anyone that he needed to maintain the right distance. But despite knowing that, he had crossed a line.

“Hey, Ji Jehyuk.”

Lost in thought, Jehyuk had been standing in front of the bank near Exit 10 when someone called out to him. It was a familiar voice. He turned around, thinking no way, and sure enough, there she was.

“As always, you showed up early.”