[My First Love Lives in the Attic] 9
“Just tell me you hate me instead.”
“No, no! That’s not it!”
Tarim frantically waved her hands.
“It’s just… I didn’t expect it.”
“…Still, I should’ve told you beforehand.”
“……”
“…I couldn’t… explain it…”
Everywhere she looked, Seoul was too beautiful.
That’s why she started to hate it.
“You know… the ex we randomly ran into…”
It made her want to take a break.
I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore, or what I wanted to say. I felt like an idiot.
“That’s not it, Muru. I just…”
Tarim wanted to say that if she’d been told in advance, she would’ve come to the terminal to see her off. That they’d agreed to set aside whatever had happened between them—cool or not—and a message like that wouldn’t have been a big deal. She wanted to say all that.
But nothing she said came out right.
The living room entered another cold war.
Lee Gyum stepped on Tarim’s foot under the table, but she just flailed helplessly. Then—
Lee Gyum and Hosik realized at the same time:
Oh. These two!
Of course, real friends could tell right away. Lee Gyum turned sharply to Hosik and gave him a look.
“They’re already like that.”
“Like that but haven’t made any progress.”
“Aha! So that’s why the dinner table felt so gloomy.”
“Friend, how about we play Cupid?”
“Absolutely, my friend!”
Just ten days ago, they were fighting tooth and nail. Now, with just their eyes, they reaffirmed their friendship.
Hosik jumped up first.
“Let me show you your room!”
“Right! You must be tired from the long trip!”
Lee Gyum grabbed Tarim’s arm and lifted her to her feet.
“What are you doing? Come on, grab your bags!”
Caught off guard, both Tarim and Muru got up. Hosik hurriedly rolled over her suitcase to Tarim.
“Where was the room again?”
“Oh, there are plenty of empty rooms in this house!”
“Always open for guests, no matter who or when!”
“Right, that room is empty. Perfect timing!”
Lee Gyum pointed to the room connected to the first-floor living room. Since both he and Hosik used the second floor, that room had been vacant the whole time.
“Let’s all go with Muru to her room!”
“Yes! All together!”
They passed off their lines seamlessly as they herded Muru and Tarim toward the room.
Tarim fetched the key and opened the door, and although the boys said they’d go in together, they slipped off to the opposite side of the living room like retreating traffic cones, waving weakly from a distance. Once the door closed behind the girls, the two guys slumped against the wall, physically and emotionally drained.
“Ugh, I’m exhausted.”
Hosik, once known for his iron stamina, sighed quietly.
“We did our best. I’ll pay any price to normalize our meal schedule.”
Lee Gyum, now collapsed on the floor, muttered in a hushed tone. They consoled each other as they trudged up the stairs to their respective rooms. They hadn’t even finished their rice balls, but they had no plans to set foot downstairs again until sunrise.
“Wow…”
Muru let out a small gasp.
The living room had been nice, but the room itself had the charm of a classic European home. White plastered walls and brown wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling. Through the window, sunlight streamed in on a spring garden in full bloom. The wardrobe and bed were clearly handmade.
“I didn’t know the inside of this house was so beautiful.”
The words slipped out without thinking.
Tarim, who had just placed her suitcase beside the wardrobe, paused. She had been leaning against the window, lost in admiration.
“…Why?”
“Huh?”
Muru turned, casually, but Tarim was now standing in front of the opposite wall with a puzzled look on her face.
“This is the room we always used to play in.”
“……!”
Only then did Muru realize her slip-up—and the regret came crashing in.
She should’ve told her from the beginning.
That she didn’t remember her. Not just her, but this house, this neighborhood, this whole small town.
“That is…”
If nothing had happened that night, she could’ve told her now and it might’ve been okay. Muru scrambled to say something, anything.
“It’s just… now that I look at it, I guess I didn’t notice it when I was little…”
“But you…”
“Huh?”
“…why did you look so surprised?”
Deny it. Deny it wasn’t like that!
Something inside Muru berated her. But nothing went as planned.
If she just told the truth, Tarim’s kindness would probably curdle in an instant.
Amnesia? Just say you hate me instead. Pathological liar?
Those were the only outcomes Muru could imagine.
Finally, with difficulty, she forced out a trembling voice.
“…Tarim.”
“…Yeah?”
“There’s… something I didn’t tell you.”
“……?”
The truth was short and clumsy. Muru bowed her head pitifully.
[Did you get there okay? I’m home!]
Solar’s DM lit up the dark room. Muru, lying on the bed and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, opened the message window.
[Thanks to you, the trip was smooth. You must be tired, Solar.]
[Not at all. I’m just happy I got to see your face.]
Online or offline, Solar was always cheerful. When they first met at a coffee shop in front of Hongdae at 22, Solar was completely open. A friend who sparkled with excitement, saying it was her first time in Seoul. Back then, Muru didn’t know this friend would bring an end to her drawn-out heartbreak.
“You’re going to Junsan? Why?”
They talked about many things in Solar’s car earlier that day. Every time the car bumped, the suitcase in the trunk rattled.
“It’s my hometown. A friend is doing a house-share there, and I’m going to move in.”
“Out of nowhere?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Solar chuckled and asked slyly:
“That friend. It’s a guy, isn’t it?”
“Wh-what?! Uh… yeah.”
“Wow, Muru! You go, girl!”
“We’re not like that! Nothing’s happening yet!”
“You’re going all the way to Junsan for him, huh?”
“No! Really, it’s not like that… Though maybe like 20%.”
“What’s the other 80%?”
“…There’s something I lost when I was little.”
I think I need to find it…
to move on.
That was her answer.
It was the one sharp truth in her otherwise dulled heart. If she found that, then her breakup with her ex would truly be over. She wouldn’t feel miserable walking through beautiful streets, and the person called Park Tarim would become clearer.
And maybe…
Just maybe, she’d forget the ghost standing in the moonless corner of that night.
[Sleep well, Muru.]
[You too, Solar. Sweet dreams.]
Muru turned off her phone and rolled to face the lace-curtained door.
She needed to sleep. It was bedtime. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the unopened laptop in her suitcase.
Eventually, she gave in—pulled it out, set it on her lap, and pressed the power button. Sitting against the bed’s headboard, the screen stung her eyes, but she couldn’t sleep without writing at least one line.
…In the darkness, she gathered the scattered clothes from around the hotel room. Steady breathing came from the bed. His name was Liam.
Eunjo’s mind was in a fog.
4 a.m. She’d met Liam, a Korean man, in Turkey just the day before at 2 p.m. Where was her bag? The one with her phone, wallet, and passport?
She had to run. Fast. Before he woke up.
She was leaving Liam. Found the bag she had dropped somewhere by the door. As she dressed in the dark, fragments of her memory spun violently inside her head, like in a blender.
Every touch had burned. His long, blunt fingers had gripped her like he would never let go again. His hair fell over her face as he kissed her. When their lips parted, she gasped for air.
A foreign country. A foreign city. A foreign bed…
A foreign man.
Her fingers froze.
A Korean woman named Eunjo who spent a night with a Korean man named Liam she met in Turkey.
In truth, they were lovers in a past life.
“Reincarnation” was the theme of Joo Muru’s second novel, which had been stalled for three years.
Same characters and setting—eighth attempt at rewriting the plot. Web novelist <SailorMook> had rewritten the lives of Liam and Eunjo eight times.
In every one of them, Eunjo always ran away from the man she once loved, even after death. She never got past chapter 20. Eight unfinished versions were buried in a folder on her laptop labeled “Graveyard.”
Even on the day she fled to Junsan, brokenhearted, Eunjo ran away from Liam again. Why?
Why?
Muru slammed the laptop shut.
Even with her eyes closed, sleep wouldn’t come. The unfamiliar bed didn’t help, but mostly, it was the sad look on Tarim’s face after hearing Muru’s late confession.
Would she think it was a lie?
Even as Muru struggled to explain herself, Tarim had accepted it without the slightest doubt.
