WTFUDLS 07

Noeul and Hansol stepped out of the school building.

If Hansol wanted that kind of image—a free spirit who could read people like a sage—Noeul could play along. All he had to do was pretend Hansol had seen right through him. Then she’d be satisfied and stop trying to convince him of her “concept.”

Noeul said,
“How’d you even know?”

“Know what?”

“That I didn’t want to go to that group blind date. You’re like a psychic. Was it that obvious?”

He tilted his head.
Hansol just stared at him in silence.

“Anyway, thanks. You saved me.”
With that, Noeul turned to leave.

From behind came Hansol’s voice.
“Running away?”

“…Huh?”

Hansol walked up to face him.
“Are you running away?”

……

Pretty women have a way of lowering a man’s IQ.
Up close, Noeul’s mind blanked.
How could skin be that fair, a nose so perfectly sculpted…?
How far does the power of beauty go?

While he stood there stunned, Hansol said,
“You promised to have a drink with me.”

“When did I ever? That was all you talking.”

“You thanked me, didn’t you? Thanks to me you didn’t have to play the clown in front of those pretty-face chasers. So this time I earned for you—you should spend it on me.”

Noeul faltered.
Was Hansol always this good with words?
Wait—did she just say pretty-face chasers? Playing the clown?

Sure, everyone knew he sometimes acted like a clown, but it was an unspoken thing. Nobody said it out loud.

Should he feel offended? Maybe.
But somehow, because it came from someone this gorgeous, he didn’t.

Hansol drove it home.
“You were planning to hang out with a girl anyway, so hang out with me. I’m pretty—you’re not losing anything.”

When a pretty girl calls herself pretty, it leaves you speechless.
Noeul just thought, She’s really something.
Most pretty girls don’t say it outright.

Hansol might be a bit full of herself, but it was still better than fake modesty—
better than the ones who fish for “If you look bad, then I’m a disaster.”

“…Then… let’s call Jun-gi too. He lives nearby.”

“No.”

“No? Why?”

“I want to hang out just with you.
You don’t like three-person hangouts either.”

“Me? Why not? Jun-gi and I are close.”

“Being close doesn’t matter.
It’s just annoying to be with a guy better-looking than you.”

How does she even know that?
Noeul laughed in disbelief.

“Wow, you really think I’m some antisocial type. Sure, I’m not the best-looking guy, but I don’t hate every handsome dude. Big misunderstanding there.”

“Yeah? Then you must have a great personality.
I just can’t stand it. Every time I see a handsome guy, I feel like wrecking one of his perfect features.”

“…That’s… a scary thing to say. You’re dangerous.”

Noeul took it as a joke, but still felt as if she’d read his mind.

Hansol said,
“Exactly. I only have thoughts like that.
Now that you know how scary I am, come hang out with me.”

She tapped his shoulder and started toward the main gate.
Noeul couldn’t think of a single reason to refuse, so he followed.

Hansol passed the row of shops in front of the gate and headed toward the market.
Students filled the shop street, but hardly any went as far as the market—mostly local residents there.

Deep inside the market she slipped into a small Chinese restaurant, old enough to show it.
Darkened wallpaper, round tables topped with glass, brown wooden chairs with seven of ten red backs torn.
A dusty wall fan rattled as it spun.

Hansol sat in a corner and gestured for him to sit opposite.

An elderly lady came from the kitchen, dropped a menu on the table, and turned on the TV with a remote, barely looking at them.

Hansol said, scanning the menu,
“I come here a lot.”

“All the way out here?”
Noeul almost added to this run-down place, but held his tongue for the lady’s sake.

“Yeah.”

“Must be a hidden gem.”

“Nope. I come because nobody’s here.”

……

“Chinese food tastes about the same anywhere.
Ma’am, two black bean noodles, one sweet-and-sour pork, and a bottle of kaoliang, please.”

Noeul kept losing words around her.

“You like empty places?”

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

He swallowed the thought We live different lives.

“Well… I think most food tastes good, so I don’t bother with crowded famous spots. No need.”

“I get self-conscious. Feels like people keep looking at me—even when they’re not.
If I accidentally meet someone’s eyes, I can’t keep eating.
I’ve even left mid-meal because of it.”

……

Her feeling matched his so precisely it startled him, even if for different reasons.

“So even pretty girls don’t like being stared at.
I figured you’d enjoy it.”

Hansol gave a small laugh.

Their order arrived.

“Hey, you didn’t even ask before ordering.”

“You should’ve complained earlier. Too late now. Just eat.”

True—he’d been too distracted by her comments about empty places.

Resigned, Noeul started on the noodles.

Hansol poured the clear kaoliang into two shot glasses and slid one to him.
By now, even drinking strong liquor in broad daylight didn’t surprise him.

“Cheers~,” she said, clinking glasses.

They downed the shots.

“Ahhh—” Hansol squinted one eye.
Even that looked charming to Noeul.

Their eyes met. Hansol grinned.
“What? Pretty?”

“…You’re shameless.”

“Being pretty is the best, right?”

“…Unbelievable.”

She smiled.
“Seriously. Better than any genius talent.
Say I were a piano prodigy—my genius would only show while I’m playing.
But if you’re pretty? Every breath is genius. A face genius.
A piano prodigy can’t walk around with a sign saying I’m a genius.
But pretty people don’t need the sign—people know the moment they see you.”

Noeul shook his head at her sudden monologue.

“Must be nice to overflow with talent.”

“Of course. And it takes no effort—born with it.
Sure, you can work to get a bit prettier, but over 90% is inherited.
It’s like being born already holding ten billion won.”

Noeul had often thought the same:
handsome kids and plain kids start life with different terms.
From childhood, pretty kids get more love.
Ugly kids get only polite scraps—token compliments like how cute said without meaning.

Pretty children are loved just for existing.
That love becomes self-confidence, a shield for future hardships.
Plain kids learn early that mere existence won’t earn love.
They grow quick to read what adults like or hate, doing whatever it takes to get affection.

Yet when you say this, pretty people frown.
They like to think their admiration was earned, not luck.

But Hansol said it herself, freely:
this overwhelming “talent” was pure accident.

Noeul added,
“And being pretty boosts everything.
Become an herbal doctor—you’re the beautiful herbal doctor.
A chef—you’re the beautiful chef.
People like you faster. Fame comes easier.”

Hansol smacked the table.
“Exactly!”

She drank more, voice growing louder.
“Then they say looks don’t matter, that personality counts more—
total crap. All of it.”

Noeul laughed.

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m right.
Some guy says he loves his girlfriend for her personality?
If she gains tons of weight, acne everywhere, cheekbones jutting out—
will he still love her? Personality’s the same.
Nope. Hell no.”

Noeul burst out laughing.

“Why does a pretty girl think exactly like me?”

He worried she might take offense, but she just giggled.

“Did you see those girls waiting for Hyun-soo after class?
Every one of them less attractive than he is—
and he’s not even that good-looking.
They just want to stand out.
Funny thing? Each one thinks, I’m better than these other girls.”

Noeul found himself nodding.
He’d thought the same.
Not that Hyun-soo was bad—it was just… human nature.

Hansol swayed side to side, clearly tipsy.
Suddenly she pointed a finger at him.

“Heyyy. I’ll show you a party trick.”

“What trick?”

“Imitating Padakmon.” (a Digimon)

“Out of nowhere?”

“Jal deureo bwa… Padakmon evolution—Angelmon!”

“Pfft!”

Hansol announced “Angelmon” in a solemn voice and stared at him gravely.

Noeul spat out his drink laughing.

He wondered if Hansol had two different selves.
Why so silent and cold at school?
If everyone knew her face and this personality, she’d be wildly popular.

Hansol giggled like a grade-schooler at her own joke.

Noeul felt like sharing drinks and laughs with such a beautiful girl was surreal.

Then Hansol extended her right hand.
“Let’s be close friends!”

Noeul smiled.
For a moment he wished Hansol had some big flaw—it would make her offer less intimidating.

And he realized two things:
One, there was indeed a huge gap between them, like needing a “big flaw” to feel equal.
Two, he genuinely wanted to be close to her.

Hansol tilted her head.
“You know I don’t have many friends. Hang out with me, okay?”

Noeul thought he couldn’t possibly refuse—
or maybe he just wanted to believe that.
Or maybe the alcohol dulled his judgment.
Maybe it was just that Hansol, head tilted, cheeks flushed, was too pretty for thought.

He took her hand.
“Okay.”

Hansol grinned and shook it.
“Great! Round two, let’s go!!”