Chapter 15

For a man who rarely dwelled on any single thought for long, Gyuhan remained deeply lost in contemplation even at a drinking gathering.

“Cha Gyuhan. You’re unusually quiet today.”

Watching his empty glass being refilled, Gyuhan snapped out of his reverie. Well, it hadn’t been any profoundly deep contemplation… He had merely been agonizing over whether to use a female or male character when imagining Gong Jio’s ideal type. Given his limited imagination, he couldn’t even fathom sketching a real person, so picturing the pixelated sprite of a retro game that had trended for years was the best he could muster.

In short, it was that level of petty worry combined with bruised pride and frustration over how he, the self-proclaimed best friend, hadn’t known the first thing about Gong Jio’s type.

“It’s been ages since we all hung out, hasn’t it?”

No matter how busy everyone became, this alumni gathering met at least three times a year. Gyuhan had spent his school years living with his mother in a small provincial town. Back then, he hadn’t realized that his father had stepped away from the underworld but still had loose ends to tie up, requiring time to settle things quietly. Naturally, his parents becoming a weekend couple had only deepened their marital affection, eventually leading to Gyuwon’s birth—though that wasn’t important.

What truly mattered was that this circle of friends, formed in late elementary school and kept through high school graduation, had maintained their bond to this day. When life got busy and time passed, relationships dissolving into thin air was the norm, and no one could deny that this gathering had persisted for so long solely thanks to Gyuhan. Only Gyuhan remained oblivious. He simply assumed they were all each other’s best friends, believing their mutual affection was evenly distributed across the group.

So, he asked, “Do you happen to know Gong Jio’s type?”

At the sudden mention of that name, his friend blinked. Daeho was a guy just as boisterous and loud-voiced as Gyuhan. Blessed with a personality perfectly suited for an imported car dealer—which earned him top dealer awards year after year—Daeho looked flustered by the sudden question and trailed off, “How would I know…?”

Gyuhan’s eyes gleamed as he searched for his next target.

You? You? You too? Hey, you don’t know either? For real?

Gyuhan’s facial features were distinct and sharp. His eyes had a fierce edge to them. While the harmony of his features was handsome, looking solely at his eyes could be slightly terrifying. On top of that, having zero nunchi, Gyuhan looked at people by plowing straight ahead in his own style. Meaning his gaze carried not the slightest softening filter.

Like graduate students before a professor who told a lame joke and stared down each student to see who would laugh, his friends shrank back and shook their heads.

Gyuhan ambushed the last guy returning from the restroom before he could even sit down, received another clueless answer, and muttered in deflation, “How does not a single one of you know?” Then he recovered immediately. “Ah, then Gong Jio probably just never told anyone. So it’s only natural that I didn’t know either, right? Ha, wow. Taciturn bastard.”

Gyuhan rested a hand against his forehead and laughed as if his friend were truly helpless.

He failed to notice his friends exchanging glances and nodding solemnly as if reaching a grave resolve. Stepping up as their representative, Daeho tentatively raised his hand. Gyuhan noticed it only after a long while. Having mixed soju and beer into a golden ratio and struck the bottom of the glass with a spoon to generate foam, Gyuhan held it up proudly, only to put on a bewildered expression upon seeing Daeho kneeling on both knees.

“Why are you sitting like that? Want something to eat? Should I order for you?”

“No, that’s not it. I have a confession to make, Gyuhan-ah.”

Daeho opened solemnly. Watching him wet his lips, Gyuhan adjusted his posture as well. Sitting cross-legged, propping an elbow on one thigh with furrowed brows, his intense focus looked less like attentive listening and more like a mob boss saying Go ahead, let’s hear what you have to say…

“To be honest… we don’t know Gong Jio’s type.”

“Yeah. You just answered that a second ago.”

“To be even more honest… we… don’t know anything about Gong Jio.”

“You know his name and age. And in middle school, first grade class seven, second grade class five, third grade class—”

“Not that! Gyuhan-ah!” Daeho cried out in agony. “We aren’t close with him!”

Only after a long pause did Gyuhan blink. “Huh? You aren’t close?” He asked back, completely unable to comprehend. “Then what about the times he came here?”

“You brought him!”

“He hung out just fine, though.”

“Hanging out is something you could do by joining tables with the people in the next room right now! We aren’t close with Gong Jio. Do you have Gong Jio’s phone number? Do you? You don’t either, right? What about you?”

Daeho pointed at the group members one by one. Everyone shook their heads. As if immensely relieved to finally get this off their chests, each person let out a low sigh whenever Daeho’s finger pointed at them and pulled away.

“I-is that so? I had no idea, man… But then why did Gong Jio even show up…? Is he more affable than he looks…?” Gyuhan let out an awkward “Haha” and asked. That it was utter nonsense was obvious just by looking at Daeho’s expression.

“He only came out because you told him to come. Whew, I kept wondering when to tell you. Now I feel relieved.” Daeho shook his head, chugging the perfectly mixed somaek Gyuhan had crafted.

Gyuhan couldn’t even bring himself to ask for his masterpiece back before asking, “Then… let’s use this chance to become friends.”

What kind of playground logic was this? Daeho looked at Gyuhan with dead eyes, then decided to lay out the full truth while they were at it. “Honestly, we couldn’t tell you because we were scared you’d get mad, but listen without misunderstanding. We aren’t talking about the rumors that circled in the past, Gong Jio’s family circumstances, or his childhood. We’re all grown up now, and we can judge for ourselves how nasty those rumors were. Even so, there’s a fact that never changes.”

Daeho let out a heavy sigh and continued, “Friendship between people requires give and take. But Gong Jio doesn’t want anything we offer, so we don’t feel like offering anything either. Gyuhan-ah, he makes us uncomfortable, but it’s not because we dislike him—it’s because we’re terrified of him. We know your company runs a solid, legitimate business despite appearances… but still, he’s scary. You’re fine because we know you, but him… He never lets anyone close. How are we supposed to become friends?”

Having finished speaking, Daeho emptied his glass. One of the friends who had been nodding along cautiously chimed in, “Gyuhan-ah. We might not know Gong Jio’s type, but we know he’s opened his heart only to you. I don’t think there’s anything we can help you with…”

So please, could you refrain from bringing Gong Jio to the board game cafe next time? We’re too terrified to play the games…

Once the floodgate opened, bit by bit each person chipped in a comment until it formed a trickling stream. It barely amounted to a stream, simply because they had so little to say about Gong Jio. They had to know something about him first.

After listening quietly to everything, Gyuhan nodded with a slightly darkened expression. Then he promised, “Right. I won’t bring him along on board game day ever again.”

It felt slightly… beside the point, but it seemed to have gotten through roughly. At any rate, now that an objection had been voiced, Gyuhan wouldn’t force Gong Jio to come along anymore.

…Right?

Their lack of certainty stemmed from knowing how fiercely Gyuhan shielded Gong Jio. On top of that, where Gong Jio was concerned, Gyuhan’s judgment seemed even more clouded. Fortunately, Gyuhan was the kind of guy who would fight his way out even if kidnapped, so they weren’t worried about his safety, and if a scammer approached, having Gong Jio beside him meant he’d never get scammed, but still…

Ah, whatever. Let’s just have fun again.

In the end, friends gathered because they shared a similar wavelength. Having said their piece and cleared their chests, everyone returned to their usual atmosphere. Amidst the rising clamor, Gyuhan let go of his solitary brooding over manly solitude and the bitter weight of male camaraderie, blending back in. He became even more energetic than usual.

The only person he’s opened his heart to is me…?

Gyuhan replayed the thought against the fast, buoyant beat of his heart.

Only me?

Laughing heartily, he downed the liquor, which tasted exceptionally sweet. In truth, it tasted sweet because someone had secretly swapped his soju for cider to avoid dealing with a drunken Gyuhan.

Am I… to Gong Jio… a reliable… could it be…

“Cheers!”

As a hyung-nim…?

Amidst the chorus of clinking glasses, Gyuhan vowed to protect Gong Jio for eternity.

✦ ✦ ✦