WTFUDLS 10

Chapter 10

Guys around twenty are no fun.

Their heads seem stuffed with nothing but bragging.
No matter what Ji-woo says, they steer the conversation back to showing off—
how well they did in high school,
how popular they were with girls,
how someone asked for their number just yesterday,
how much they can lift now that they’ve joined a gym.
Don’t they realize the only people who’d willingly listen to that are their moms?

Even when they tried to brag subtly, it was the same.
Boys all think the same way, and Ji-woo could see right through it.
The so-called smart ones were no different—if anything, the elite university types bragged even more, as if nothing would remain of them without it.
They acted like she might miss their brilliance if they didn’t keep pointing it out.

Ji-woo didn’t want to hurt their feelings.
They weren’t bad people, just boring.
They were polite, spoke gently, and usually helped whenever she asked.
So she, too, tried to be kind, to react well and laugh at the right times.
Because of that, Ji-woo’s college life—really, her whole life—was neither very exciting nor particularly unhappy.

Then she met No-eul.

No-eul was different.
He didn’t obsess over self-promotion like other guys.
Instead, he listened carefully and highlighted other people’s strengths, making them shine.
If the atmosphere started to sag, he’d slip in a joke to lift it.

The only time No-eul ever put anything down was when he talked about himself—and even then, it wasn’t to get pity but to make others laugh.
If someone made a rude remark, he deflected it with humor.
Like trying to cut water with a knife, any malice just lost its edge when it reached him.

Being around No-eul was easy and fun.
So Ji-woo wanted to grow closer to him.

For a while, she thought No-eul was avoiding her.
She worried she’d done something wrong,
or that he disliked her personality,
or that her eagerness to be friends had pushed him away.

But that turned out to be nothing but needless anxiety.

“…I don’t dislike you.”

It just happened that way somehow.
Relieved to know he wasn’t avoiding her, Ji-woo wondered instead why he kept leaving her alone with Jun-gi.
Talking with Jun-gi was dull—his jokes fell flat and he couldn’t keep up with her banter.
Conversations with him sputtered out, and then, out of nowhere, he’d start bragging about how the professor praised his paper or how freshmen girls said he was handsome but he “had no idea why.”
What could Ji-woo say but “Oh, I see”?

“Are you full?”

“Huh?”

Ji-woo looked up at Jun-gi.

“You’re hardly eating,” he said.

At their second stop, she was just picking at the complimentary peas.
No-eul had rushed home after the first round, saying he’d forgotten a project due tomorrow.
Ji-woo had tried to stop him—how could he write a paper after drinking?—but No-eul insisted it was important and left.

“Maybe I filled up at the first place,” Ji-woo said.

“Ah…”

And that was it.
If it were No-eul, he would have made a joke, teased her lightly without being rude.
But “ah” left her nothing to continue.

Jun-gi sipped his kimchi-nabe broth.

“Have you seen Dead Man part one?”

“Yeah. I heard the sequel just came out.”

“Right.”

He seemed to hesitate.
Ji-woo had seen this look before: a guy about to ask her out, fidgeting like he couldn’t simply say it.

Finally he blurted,
“Want to go see part two this weekend?”

“Sure.”

His face lit up.

“Let’s invite No-eul too,” Ji-woo added.

“…Ah… No-eul…”

His expression froze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh? Uh… nothing. I’ll ask him.”

Then, almost to himself,
“Pretty sure No-eul said he was busy this weekend… not sure if he can make it…”

“Really? Then let’s wait and all go together when he’s free.”

“……”

Jun-gi said nothing.

“Why? Is No-eul always busy on weekends?
Does he have a job?
Go to some academy?”

“…You really want to hang out with No-eul, huh.”

“Yeah. He’s fun.”

“Right… fun…”

What was this?
The conversation felt oddly stifling, like circling something she couldn’t see.

Jun-gi asked,
“Do you like people who are funny?”

“Sure. Who doesn’t?”

“I mean, is that your type?”

“My type? Hm… never really thought about it.
But better funny than boring, I guess.”

“Mm…”

Why was he suddenly asking about her ideal type?

Ji-woo felt restless, almost itchy with boredom.

“Don’t you think No-eul’s really funny?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Whoever dates him would be lucky.
He’d keep them laughing.”

“Probably.”

“…Have you ever thought about dating him yourself?”

Her eyes widened.
“Huh? Me and No-eul? Never even crossed my mind.”

Jun-gi, who’d been acting like a nervous puppy, suddenly burst out laughing.

“Right? Wow, sorry.”

“…Sorry for what?”

“Huh?”

“What are you sorry about?”

He looked awkward.

Was he and she even having the same conversation?

“I just… worried you might feel weird.
I figured it wasn’t like that, but I wanted to check.”

“Oh… okay.”

Jun-gi took an embarrassed sip of soju.
Silence fell.

Out of nowhere, irritation welled up in Ji-woo.
Maybe it was just how boring he was.
She didn’t even want to sit across from him anymore.
She just wanted to go home.

Back at his studio apartment, No-eul dropped his bag and collapsed on the bed.
When the sensor light in the entryway clicked off, the room was swallowed in darkness.

He blinked up at the ceiling.
His mood wasn’t swinging the way it did around Ji-woo.
During the walk home it had evened out—or rather, it had gone blank.

No sadness, no anger, no disappointment.
Feeling nothing didn’t even surprise him.
It wasn’t the first time he’d thought he liked someone and then realized he didn’t.
Why let it shake him again?

Was he truly feeling nothing?
Or was he forcing himself not to feel because he thought he should?

He couldn’t tell.
After so long dictating how he ought to feel, he wasn’t sure what his real emotions were anymore.
His stomach only felt a little unsettled.

He sat up against the wall.
He didn’t even want to examine his feelings.
Given time, things would settle.
They always did.

Bzzz—bzzz.

Bzzz—bzzz.

He glanced at his phone.

[Park Han-sol]

Bzzz—bzzz.

What did Han-sol want?
He hesitated, then decided:

Just get it over with quickly.

“Hey, Han-sol,” he said.

[Were you asleep? Your voice sounds off.]

He almost replied, Just got back from drinking,
but stopped.
Saying that felt like excusing whatever he might say next, as if alcohol gave his words a free pass.

Instead he said,
“Maybe because I was just wailing like crazy.”

Han-sol chuckled.

[Your class ends early tomorrow, right?]

“Yeah, why?”

[Wanna start drinking in the afternoon? Go hard and spend Saturday passed out at home.]

No-eul couldn’t help but laugh.

“How much are you planning to drink, making plans to pass out?”

[Come on, unless you already have plans—Mr. Social Butterfly.]

The word social made him laugh dryly.

Sure, he was a social type.
Whenever there was a drinking party, everyone invited him.
He joined eagerly, played the role.
But was it really fun?
There were good moments, but mostly it was exhausting.

Still, he couldn’t skip those gatherings.
He feared that if he declined a few times and drifted from the group’s center, they’d stop calling him altogether.

Not that being alone bothered him.
But in society, an unattractive person without friends is seen as dangerous, unstable.
What scared him was that stigma.
So he kept announcing through his presence: I’m fine. I’m safe.

Han-sol, though, could be a loner without consequence.
When a pretty girl has no friends, people call it a choice.
Beauty itself is seen as proof of stability and normalcy.
Why would someone so attractive be dangerous?

The thought made him suddenly resent hearing her voice.
He hated how Han-sol, born beautiful, could also have such an easy, likable personality.
If you’re that pretty, shouldn’t you just bask in attention at the center of a crowd?
Why insist on drinking with someone like him?

He hated it.
Hated it so much.

If he kept talking, he’d snap.
Forcing a neutral tone, he said,

“I’ve already got plans. Book earlier next time.”

[Aw, come on. Hang out with me.]

“Nope. Hanging up.”

[Heyyy, you know you’re my only friend. Don’t you feel sorry for me?]

“You don’t just have me. Don’t say stuff like that.”

[I mean it. When have you seen me with anyone else?]

“…I’m hanging up.”

[Why are you trying to ditch me?]

“…If you want friends, ask people to hang out.
Everyone would say yes.”

His voice came out sharp.

Han-sol fell silent.

No-eul realized too late, but the anger kept simmering.

[I just click with you the most, that’s all.]

“What do you mean click?
You’re the one who said caring about personality over looks was nonsense.
So why ask me to be your friend?”

[That’s…]

She couldn’t finish.

He gave a hollow laugh.

See? Almost fooled again.
What was wrong with him lately?
Some pretty girl shows up wanting to hang out and he loses his head.
Pathetic.

He gave a bitter little snort and suddenly felt clear.

What was he doing?
Why was he angry at Han-sol?
She’d only called to suggest drinks.

“…Sorry,” he said.

He opened his mouth to explain, but every word sounded like a weak excuse.

[…It’s fine. Happens.]

Her easy acceptance only made him feel worse.
Ugly, bad-tempered, blurting things out—
while she stayed calm, almost mature.
What must she think of him?
He felt humiliated.
He wanted to disappear.

“Yeah… sorry. I’ll call you later.”

Without waiting for her reply, he hung up.

“…Ha…”

Covering his head with both hands, he muttered under his breath,

“…What the hell am I doing…”

END