WAMB Chapter 1.4

Sewon showered with water hot enough to flush his face red. After washing away stray thoughts under the stream, he lay on the bed and picked up his phone.

The usually quiet job-study group chat was overflowing with messages.

<Korea Univ Job Study Group>

Mechanical – Kim Ayoung

[www. hetenews. com /20230403/ ihatemonday]

[Haeseong Electronics delays new employee recruitment schedule… Hiring scale unchanged.]

[Haeseong Group denies any link between the recruitment delay and the “owner family scandal” following Chairman Sung Jongyeon’s eldest son’s death…]

The messages from the study group led to a news article. It was brimming with sensational terms—rumors of the chairman’s health issues, affairs, illegitimate children, and the eldest son’s drug use and death.

Even Sewon, distracted by his mother’s funeral, had vaguely heard of the uproar that had shaken the public. It seemed to have finally impacted the recruitment of new hires.

<Korea Univ Job Study Group>

CS – Kim Yesul

[Looks like Haeseong Group’s second-round interviews are officially postponed ㅠㅠ]

EE – Ha Yuseong

[Ugh ㅠㅠ It overlaps with Thursday’s Group B final interview. Should I prioritize the final over the second round?]

Mechanical – Kim Ayoung

[I’d go for the final. Haeseong’s a shame to miss, but a final interview’s got a way higher chance of landing the job.]

The group chat buzzed with reactions to Haeseong Group’s announcement. Unlike the others fretting over the conflict, Sewon realized he could now attend Haeseong Electronics’ second-round interview—one he’d thought he’d blown.

Yet, he didn’t feel relieved or happy. Just a dry, ‘Oh, that’s how it turned out.’ Closing the chat, he saw two messages from Han Jaehee.

Han Jaehee

[It’s boring without you, Sewon.]

[Have fun and come back to Korea soon lol]

The moment the “read” mark appeared, his phone rang as if Jaehee had been waiting. It was him. Caught red-handed reading the message, there was no dodging it now. With a short sigh, Sewon answered.

“—You were gonna ignore me, huh?”

Jaehee’s whispery voice came close through the receiver. Rustling sounds followed—maybe he was moving somewhere.

“Why’re you still up?” Sewon asked.

“—Can’t sleep. Not my bed.”

Not traveling, yet lying in someone else’s bed on a weekday evening—what could that mean? The thought tightened Sewon’s throat.

“On a date?”

“—Date’s over. Came to crash. How’s the trip?”

Jaehee confirmed Sewon’s guess, one he’d hoped was wrong. Willing his voice not to shake, Sewon replied,

“…It’s just, kinda intense.”

“—Really?”

“Jaehee, remember learning about the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia in our Turkish Culture and Art class?”

Footsteps echoed through the phone as Jaehee moved. After a brief pause, he spoke with a cheerful tone.

“—Of course. I can recite our exam answers even now. Remember staying up all night and grabbing food at 2 a.m.? I got kimchi udon, you got tonkatsu.”

“How do you remember that stuff?”

Sewon laughed. He’d thought he was the only one hoarding their little memories, but apparently not.

“—We were screwed, barely through half the material, but that late-night food was so good.”

“Yeah… It was.”

“—How’s sightseeing in Istanbul? Day two, right?”

“Yep. So many people. Waited over an hour to get into Hagia Sophia. Tomorrow might be better, though…”

“—Sounds tiring.”

His voice was warm and gentle. Unlike their peers who mistook a cool drawl for charm, Jaehee had always spoken softly, even as a kid. It’s why so many girls misread his intentions.

If he was this kind to a mere friend, how must he be with a lover? The thought left a bitter taste Sewon couldn’t claim or touch.

“Yeah, I’m tired.”

“—Should’ve gone with hyung.”

“Maybe…”

Sewon’s voice dipped slightly.

What if he’d come here with Jaehee? No matter how he tried to picture it, the image wouldn’t form.

They’d been friends forever, but aside from a school group trip, they’d never traveled together. Unlike Sewon—who’d never have dreamed of an overseas trip without his mother’s dying wish—Jaehee jetted off with family or friends during long breaks.

That was the unbridgeable gap in their circumstances and ease. Sewon could stay up studying with Jaehee and grab tonkatsu, but he wasn’t someone who could toss aside real-world worries and jet off with him.

The chilly Seoul wind—surely colder than Istanbul’s—hissed through the phone. Jaehee’s voice, though, sounded lazier than usual. Drunk, or still tipsy—Sewon couldn’t tell.

“—Fun traveling alone? Seems lonely.”

“I’m not alone.”

Not wanting to sound pitiful, Sewon answered brightly.

“—What? Then who—”

“Met someone. We’re traveling together now.”

“—A companion?”

“—I wasn’t kidding about coming over. Mom’s already planning to stuff you with food.”

“Got it. Let me know the time, I’ll make it work.”

“—…After we eat, you can talk with Dad.”

After a brief silence, Jaehee’s voice grew heavier. His words yanked Sewon back from his escape to reality.

“Oh…”

“—The paperwork wrapped up faster than expected. Just needs your signature.”

“Yeah. I’ll do it.”

“—And… looks like it went fine with your Uncle too. Signed without a fuss.”

“Really?”

‘That’s surprising’, Sewon muttered under his breath.

“—He asked for your number and said he wanted to have a meal with you. Dad said he didn’t know, since it’s your call.”

“Thanks, Jaehee.”

Even after his mother’s death, the world hadn’t stopped. Sewon, steeped in grief, still had things to settle.

Namely, the restaurant—his mother’s life’s foundation. Even if it meant inheriting her debts, Sewon didn’t want to hand over that place, tangled with joy and sorrow, to a stranger.

But ownership was the issue. His parents had divorced long ago, yet the restaurant remained under the joint title. To claim it fully, not as a co-owned relic, he needed legal help. Jaehee’s father, a former judge turned lawyer, had willingly stepped in.

“—What’s there to thank between us? Kinda funny me taking credit for Dad’s work, though.”

“…Sorry.”

Sewon’s apology carried layers of meaning.

Asking Jaehee for this favor had stripped away every shield. His financial struggles, messy family history, and the shame tied to them—all laid bare. Things Jaehee might’ve vaguely sensed but never known in detail.

It embarrassed Sewon anew. Jaehee’s kindness—helping as far as he could because they were close—only deepened his guilt and shame.

“—Your companion. Not a weirdo, right?”

Jaehee’s question snapped Sewon out of his thoughts.

‘Companion…’

The man flashed to mind, along with their elevator exchange.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to travel together tomorrow too.”

The man, holding a bent cigarette, had a serious voice asking to stay companions.

Recalling it, tension coiled in Sewon’s body—a strange, unfamiliar kind he’d never felt with anyone else.

“…I don’t think he’s weird?”

“—How do you know? A girl? How old?”

“A guy. Maybe early thirties. I think.”

“—Oh…”

A faint disappointed sound slipped from Jaehee as if he’d hoped for a romance. He couldn’t know a male companion held more romantic potential for Sewon.

Nor did he ever need to.

“Super handsome. Good body too…”

“—Whoa, if you say that, he must be something.”

“Maybe.”

At Jaehee’s words, Sewon clenched and unclenched his hand. His palm was damp—probably from showering too hot, he reasoned, though it’d been a while since he’d finished.

“—Enjoy your trip. Don’t get into trouble. You’re always quiet ‘til you mess up.”

“What trouble would I get into…”

Placating Jaehee’s plea to talk more, Sewon ended the call. As Jaehee’s voice faded, silence rushed in.

That silence brought loneliness.

Living in dorms and apartments since high school, Sewon was used to being alone. He’d visit his mom on holidays or rare free days, but otherwise, it was just him. This quiet, this loneliness—they should’ve been familiar.

At the funeral, feeling half his world collapse, Sewon realized he liked Jaehee.

That realization explained why he’d never been drawn to women. Skipping blind dates and setups wasn’t about being busy or broke—it was because he liked men. Specifically, Jaehee.

Even if he let go of Jaehee, Sewon had no plans to open his closet and seek someone else. So he’d likely stay alone forever.

Then he should be used to this gnawing loneliness by now…

Lying blankly on the bed, he heard noise filtering through the window crack. Late as it was, Istanbul’s alleys still buzzed with life. The city’s bright lights only hollowed his heart more.

Rising, Sewon shut the window tight, deliberately ignoring the fragmented thoughts swirling in his head.

Thump. Back on the bed, instead of honking cars, a low voice seemed to echo in his ears.

“How about traveling together while we’re here?”

What had he said back? He’d babbled something neither a rejection nor a full yes…

“I know I’m not a fun companion—too aware of it to argue if you turn me down. Still, I’d rather you didn’t.”

What about his reply had made that man—who seemed to lack for nothing—sound faintly desperate? Posing the unanswerable question, Sewon slipped into a deep sleep.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Tuesday

Sunlight poured through the undrawn curtains. Grimacing, Sewon finally gave in, opening his eyes and getting up. Grabbing his phone, he searched for a copy shop to print his itinerary. He could’ve asked the hotel, but their overwhelming interest in his plans felt stifling. Though early, several shops were already open.

He was meeting the man at 10 a.m. Plenty of time. Without hesitation, Sewon got up, unfolded the itinerary he’d printed in Korea, scratched out “Topkapı Palace” from yesterday, and rewrote it under today’s date. His neat handwriting looked shabby thanks to the hotel’s blunt pen.

Tucking the itinerary away, he headed to a copy shop he’d scouted. An LED sign reading “COPY CENTER” glowed garishly despite the morning hour. The shop was so cramped two people could barely fit.

“China? Japan?”

A middle-aged man, likely the owner, fired off a nationality guess at Sewon. Too practiced from immigration drills, Sewon answered instantly,

“South Korea…”

“Oh, annyeonghaseyo.”

The man greeted him in awkward Korean. Sewon had pegged him as curt, but his smile transformed him entirely.

His wife and daughter were K-drama fanatics, he said, asking why Sewon was there. Saying it was for travel, Sewon handed over his slightly crumpled itinerary and requested copies.

“Color? Black?”

“Color, please.”

Gesturing for one copy, the man nodded and fed the paper into the machine.

Soon, Sewon stepped out, holding two crisp copies of his travel plan.