Chapter 3

Rubbing a thumb across his lips in case he had made a fool of himself, Je-hee recalled the driver’s startled expression a moment ago. So he can make a face like that, too. Those wide eyes, the mouth parting and closing as he fumbled for an excuse—the calm, unreadable composure the man had worn all night had vanished in an instant, leaving him flustered and oddly endearing. Almost cute, really. Wait—what? Je-hee shook his head sharply. Cute? About a grown man he had met two hours ago, for most of which he had been unconscious? Something about this improbable night was clearly throwing him off balance.

“Ah.” Breaking off the thought with a quiet breath, he spotted the driver in the distance, jogging back across the lot with a can of coffee in each hand. He doesn’t need to run. Had Je-hee given the impression of being an impatient client? He had no urgent schedule to keep and certainly wouldn’t begrudge his driver a ten-minute break. He had neither rushed the man nor spoken sharply to him, yet the driver had been almost painfully deferential from the moment they met. The realization brought an unpleasant twinge of sympathy.

As the man reached for the driver’s door, Je-hee unbuckled and stepped out to meet him. Running to the convenience store and straight back to the wheel hardly counted as a break; if they were going to make it safely through the remaining distance, the driver needed a few minutes on his feet, and he was plainly too cautious to ask for them himself. “Would you like to get some fresh air for a moment?”

“Yes.” Slipping a warm can into each coat pocket, the driver nodded. Je-hee locked the car and led the way toward the lookout over the dark reservoir with a small smile.

For a moment they stood side by side looking out at the still water before the driver hesitated and drew a can from his pocket. “Would you like one?” Perhaps the silence was weighing on him, too.

“Yes, thank you.” Je-hee held out his hand at once. Ordinarily he avoided the cloying sweetness of canned coffee, but tonight he felt inclined to make an exception.

“Here…” Clearly hadn’t expected him to accept without a token refusal, the driver blinked in mild surprise before passing the can over, glancing down at it for a fraction of a second as if reconsidering his choice of drink.

Following the driver’s lead, Je-hee cracked the tab and took a sip. His mouth tightened immediately. I shouldn’t have drunk this. He had half-imagined tonight might be different. Different, my ass. The coffee was every bit as syrupy and chalky as he remembered, coating his tongue in artificial sugar until his brow furrowed. So much for acting out of character.

“…Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Go ahead.”

At the driver’s nod, Je-hee reached into his inner breast pocket, eager to chase away the lingering sweetness in his mouth. Drawing out his pack, he held it out out of polite habit. “Would you like one?”

“No… actually, yes, please.”

Je-hee had expected an automatic refusal, so it surprised him when, after a brief hesitation, the man drew a cigarette from the pack.

“Need a light?”

“Thank you.”

With a double click of his lighter, Je-hee cupped the flame, and the driver leaned in. For a brief second, the small glow threw the man’s features into sharp relief: clean-cut, striking, and quietly exhausted.

“Khh—!”

At the sudden choked cough, Je-hee turned sharply.

“Ghk, cough—”

Je-hee stared in astonishment. The driver looked like someone who could go through a pack a day without blinking, yet a single drag had left him doubled over. The contrast was so unexpected that it was almost endearing. “Uh—hey, are you all right?” Je-hee blurted.

“Yes, hack, I’m—khh.” The man couldn’t finish the sentence until he had gulped down several hurried mouthfuls of canned coffee. Wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye, he gave a faint, sheepish laugh. “Well… it’s been a long time since I quit. My body isn’t taking to it very well.”

“You really don’t have to force yourself.” He had accepted willingly enough, yet Je-hee couldn’t help wondering if his casual offer had put the man on the spot.

“No, having one after so long isn’t bad.” Offering a faint smile, the driver looked down at the ground, then bent to retrieve the cigarette he had dropped during his coughing fit. Having barely taken a single puff before losing it, he stood turning the crushed, extinguished stub between his fingers with a look of quiet regret, plainly too polite to ask a client for another.

“Would you like a fresh one?” Je-hee offered, holding the pack out again.

“Ah… yes. Thank you.”

This time, after leaning in for a light, the driver bit down on the menthol capsule in the filter—pop—so the cool flavor would cut the harshness of the smoke.

“Phew…” With each slow inhale and exhale, a fleeting look of relief crossed the man’s tired features, as though for the span of a few breaths the nicotine helped chase away the weight of the night. A moment later, however, the acrid smoke caught at the back of his throat again. “Khh… ahem.” He tried to disguise the cough behind a cleared throat, studying the glowing tip between his fingers before another fit ambushed him outright.

“Khh, hack, cough—”

Smoke burst from his lips as he doubled over a second time, clearly unaccustomed to a brand this strong. Seeing the man steal a mortified sideways glance in his direction, Je-hee kept his gaze fixed politely out over the dark water under the starless sky, pretending not to notice a thing as his half-burned cigarette burned down between his fingers. Neither of them spoke again while the driver gamely struggled through his second cigarette and Je-hee lingered over his first.

* * *

By the time they reached Yeonghyeon, the final stretch of expressway felt to Je-hee as though it had passed in the blink of an eye. The apartment complex’s outdoor parking lot, always packed in the evenings, had plenty of open spaces before dawn, and the driver eased the sedan neatly into a spot without difficulty.

With a soft click, the driver unbuckled his seat belt and bowed slightly toward the passenger seat. “We’ve arrived safely. Thank you for waiting.” He was every bit as courteous at the end of the grueling drive as he had been at the start.

“Yes, thank you for all your trouble tonight.” Taking back his car key, Je-hee drew a stack of bills from his wallet and handed them across. After a journey that long, any driver would prefer cash in hand. “I’ll head up, then.” He opened his door to step out; the hour was late—or early, depending on how one counted it—and there was no reason to draw out their parting.

“Sir, wait a moment—!” the driver called after him.

“…?” Sir? I’m not even forty. Je-hee’s brow twitched as he turned back.

Catching the reaction at once, the driver faltered. “Ah… well, I didn’t know what else to call you. I’m sorry.”

The earnest explanation only made Je-hee feel older, though he forced his mouth into a polite smile. “…It’s Kwon Je-hee.”

“…?” The driver blinked at the unexpected introduction, looking momentarily uncertain before repeating the name with practiced courtesy. “Yes, Kwon Je-hee… Je-hee-ssi, it looks like you gave me too much.”

“Uh… it’s a tip, since you drove so far tonight.”

For a second Je-hee wondered if the man would try to hand the extra bills back, but the driver’s heavy eyelids and sagging shoulders made it plain how exhausted he was. Hopefully the extra cash would at least cover a taxi home. After a brief hesitation, the driver bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Turning away, he started across the lot, his steps dragging with fatigue. Once, he gave his head a sharp shake as if trying to ward off sleep, though it did little to straighten his weary posture. Je-hee stood by the car watching him go before his voice slipped out on impulse.

“…Do you happen to have a business card?”

“Pardon?” The driver paused and looked back, as though the question had caught him half-asleep.

“I mean, I was wondering if you carried a card.”

“Ah…”

“I travel to the provinces for business fairly often, and I feel much more comfortable riding with a driver I already know.”

“Someone you know…”

“My dinners usually run late, so finding a driver at that hour can be difficult, and everyone drives so differently. If possible, I’d rather…” Trailing off as he heard himself ramble, Je-hee added quickly, “Come to think of it, we spent more than three hours in the car together, and I still don’t know your name.”

“I’m Seo Si-woon.”

Seo Si-woon. Repeating the name silently, Je-hee felt an absurd wave of satisfaction. He had babbled so earnestly that the man had finally introduced himself. “Right, Si-woon-ssi. I really appreciated how smoothly you drove tonight. So… could I get your card?”

Why was he carrying on like this? Appalled by his own persistence, he still couldn’t seem to stop. It isn’t a lie, at least, he assured himself. The whole excuse sounded embarrassingly transparent, like a clumsy pickup line, yet he had no ulterior motive—none whatsoever. It was purely practical: he simply wanted to avoid scrambling for a long-distance driver in the middle of the night.

“…”

Si-woon said nothing at first, though the guarded look in his eyes gradually softened as he weighed the request. Perhaps the practical explanation had convinced him. “I don’t have a business card on me… but I can give you my number,” he offered.

“Yes, please.” Handing his unlocked phone over without a second’s hesitation, Je-hee watched Si-woon tap his digits into the screen and gave an inward, rueful laugh. Now this really does look like a cheap trick. Still, it was too late to back out, and he had no intention of contacting the man for personal reasons anyway. He needed a reliable driver; why was he making such an inner fuss over a perfectly ordinary arrangement?

“Get home safely,” Je-hee called as Si-woon handed the phone back and turned to leave.

Si-woon didn’t reply aloud, but he bowed several times before walking away, his broad shoulders stooped with exhaustion. Even after he disappeared beyond the complex gates, Je-hee remained standing beside his car in the cold dawn air, looking down at the new contact glowing on his screen.

[Seo Si-woon]

Silently mouthing the three syllables to himself a few times, he finally turned and headed upstairs to his apartment.