+010-2721-63...

Friday – 18:09

(4 Missed Calls)

 

--

 

+010-2721-63…

 

18:32

Eric Mun.

 

18:35

Why aren’t you picking up your calls??

 

18:41

?

Shin Hyesung?

 

18:41

FINALLY HE SPEAKS

I’ve been calling you the entire day.

 

18:42

??

I haven’t been able to check my phone.

It’s a FRIDAY.

Too many people at the café.

 

18:43

Why are you even calling

?

 

18:43

Um. Hello.

Dinner?????

We’re still on, right?

 

18:45

…

I honestly thought you were kidding.

Or had forgotten

 

18:46

HA.

You obviously underestimate Kim Dongwan

and his unstoppable mouth

 

18:47

I mean.

We don’t HAVE to

If you feel so grateful just by me a coffee

Or a car

Whichever works

 

18:48

You’re a riot.

Anyway, Dongwan has already told Choongjae about it.

So I have no choice.

And neither do you

 

18:49

Look, I barely have a free schedule…

 

18:49

You close the café on Mondays right?

I know you do; Dongwan told me.

This Monday the boys are out on holiday.

So.

Sunday night?

 

18:51

…

 

18:52

We can have it here at my house.

6 PM. Sunday.

 

18:53

…It’s already Friday.

 

18:54

So??

It’ll be FINE.

 

18:56

Eric Mun.

 

18:58

YAH.

 

19:01

I need for you to agree.

Dongwan is going to make me DEAF.

 

19:03

You don’t have to bring or cook ANYTHING

You can also bring Minwoo.

 

19:05

I’m holding you to this.

 

19:10

ERIC!!!!

 

19:15

Sorry we were closing the café for the night

 

19:16

Wait.

_YOU’RE_ cooking?

 

19:16

you

I do know how to cook

 

19:17

No…

I mean.

I’m allergic to seaweed

 

19:18

Shut up.

 

19:19

Sunday then. 6PM.

You know the address.

Just ring the doorbell.

Don’t you dare come in using the house codes.

 

19:20

Choongjae loved the soup btw.

He’s beside me now.

Reminding me how much he liked it.

 

19:21

Think he finished three bowls.

 

19:22

What do you call that soup again?

 

19:22

Minestrone.

And he’s welcome.

 

19:23

He says it’s called Minnie Mousey soup.

I’m inclined to agree.

 

19:24

Sunday. 6PM.

 

19:25

Eric Mun.

 

19:26

I swear to God I will keep calling you

 

19:35

YES OK ALREADY

 

19:36

Good. That’s settled.

 

19:37

Don’t you dare come without Andy.

Minwoo is welcome.

 

19:38

And btw don’t text or call me unless it’s really impt.

And don’t tell anyone my number.

I WILL know if you have.

 

19:39

Good night.

 

--

 

“Dinner?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“With Hyesung?” Minwoo looks at Eric, confused, as he tightens his hands around the steering wheel. Although they’re already parked in front of Eric and Andy’s apartment building, neither of them makes a move to unlock the doors.

 

“Yep.” Eric tries to avoid his best friend’s gaze. It isn’t too hard since most of his view is blocked by Andy, who has long fallen asleep, tired after a full day at school, and is in Eric’s arms, his head heavy on his father’s shoulder. His phone with its deluge of messages sent by Hyesung, all within the last hour or so, feels like a warm brick in his pocket.

 

“Wait a minute…the Hyesung? The rich ? Junjin’s father? Dongwan’s whatever-in-law??”

 

“Yeah…” Eric can feel his ears turn scarlet. “I mean, it’s not like I know any other ones.”

 

“Holy !” Minwoo flails and accidentally hits the horn as he shouts, resulting in a loud blaring that echoes throughout the quiet neighborhood. Instinctively, Eric scrambles to cover Andy’s ears.

 

“Shut up!” Eric growls, giving him a glare. Thankfully, Andy stays asleep, only moving to snuggle more against Eric but still blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place. “Are you trying to get us arrested??” But Minwoo doesn’t seem to care for any propriety at the moment.

 

“Dinner with Hyesung! Dude, what the ?” Minwoo’s voice drops to a whisper in time, eyeing Andy, but doesn’t let the topic slide so easily. The glow from the streetlamp outside illuminates the upper half of his face, clearly showing how wide his eyes have gotten. “Are you being serious right now?”

 

Eric considers showing him the text messages but decides against it. It’s already too bizarre for him to comprehend; he doesn’t think involving Minwoo any further would help things. Likely, it would either make things worse. Generous about everything as he is, Minwoo has absolutely no filter.

 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

 

“I mean I know you went over to his house that one time when he was sick. Dongwan told me. He was pretty sorry about it too. He made it sound like you’d end up killing each other which, frankly, is a possibility. But what gives? Dinner? Alone? I mean…” Minwoo quickly backtracks, “not that it’s wrong of course…”

 

Eric gives him a withering stare, or at least as much of it as he can muster in the half-darkness.

 

“Of course not.”

 

“You mean you’re bringing the kids? Both of you?”

 

“It isn’t a date, Minwoo, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Eric hisses, finally understanding the reason behind Minwoo’s agitation.

 

“Oh okay.” Minwoo gives a nervous laugh. “Phew, that’s a relief, right?”

 

“I tried to get out of it, but I think he’s already told Junjin, so it’s hard to not have it. Anyway…it’s something the kids have been wanting to do for a while now and they keep bugging us about it.” A half-lie, but at least one that’s easy to swallow. And one he can keep using on himself to justify this outing.

 

“Right…”

 

“Besides, this is also why I’m telling you, you nosy .”

 

Minwoo snorts. “The boys wouldn’t care whether or not it’s dinner at McDonald’s or the neighborhood ahjumma’s tteokbuki place. They only care about them spending more time with each other so they can play and hang out. You guys, however…”

 

“What?” Eric laces his tone with a threat. He’s tired and testy and downright confused. He doesn’t need to be judged anymore than he’s already judged himself, to be honest.

 

“Nothing.” Minwoo says, although the smirk in his tone is obnoxiously apparent. He obviously still has more to say but values his life more than getting the upper hand. “Okay, fine, I’ll buy this. A family dinner. Anyway, what did you want me to do?”

 

“He wanted to do dinner on Sunday at 6PM, which would mean we’d have to close early…”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine?” Eric had expected Minwoo would put up a fight about it. He’d been ready for it too, because then there would have been the chance of him pushing to cancel it. “What do you mean, ‘fine’? So you’re okay with coming?”

 

“Yeah, why not, right?” Minwoo shrugs. “‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”

 

“What?”

 

“The Godfather 3. You know, the one with Andy Garcia.”

 

“Are you going to make sense anytime soon?”

 

“Look, it’s free food, and I don’t trust the guy, and I don’t trust you to keep your temper long enough. So yeah, I’m going, of course. It makes perfect sense.” Minwoo peers at him with narrowed eyes. “Why? Don’t you want to do this? I mean, it’s just a family dinner…”

 

“I mean…” Eric can feel his face getting red, the blood now rushing from his ears to his entire face. Thank God it’s dark inside the car. “Is this…a normal…Korean thing? We definitely don’t do this…single dads throwing gratuitous dinner parties for each other…thing. He honestly doesn’t have to. I can’t decide whether it feels weird or not.”

 

Minwoo shrugs. “Could be. I dunno, I’m not a single dad.”

 

“I can see you’re not going to be of any help anytime soon.”

 

“It’s only weird if you make it weird. We’ve already decided it’s just dinner. Stop overthinking it. The guy wants to show his appreciation for you, so just let him. It’s a rich people thing, casually showing off their money. He’s also probably still sizing you up. Or he feels guilty. Or whatever. Who cares?” Eric feels Minwoo’s eyes on him. “I mean, did he say anything while you were at his house?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Did you dig up stuff about him and his wife? You didn’t piss him off right, so this won’t be an opportunity for him to quietly murder us and get rid of our bodies under the cloak of darkness?”

 

Eric bites his lip. He remembers Hyesung talking nonsense, but hasn’t really given it much thought beyond him figuring that the mysterious ‘she’ was likely Hyesung’s wife.

 

Ex-wife, he corrects himself. The strange familiarity of the term to him, despite differing circumstances, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

“No.” he tells Minwoo. “He didn’t say anything.”

 

Minwoo stares at him for a beat, his expression clouded with doubt. He looks away seconds later, shaking his head. 

 

“As long as we don’t get on his bad side. The dinner will be a good opportunity anyway to find out more stuff. Maybe we can look through the photo albums.”

 

“No, we won’t and you’d better not.”

 

“We’ll see about that.” Minwoo grins as he unlocks the doors. “Now get out and put your kid to bed. Forget about making pastries for tomorrow, we have plenty frozen in the fridge. Have a good night and get some sleep. Don’t stay up too late listening to Shin Hyesung—!”

 

The loud slam that Eric manages to do with the car door right in Minwoo’s face is deeply satisfying only because it immediately cuts Minwoo off and, despite the noise, Andy doesn’t even stir in his sleep, having already left a drool trail on Eric’s shoulder.

 

--

 

Memories look like love
So I'll keep looking back on them
Because you're still there
I guess that's why it hurts
In case once, just once
you might look at me too

 

--

 

Sunday arrives at an unhurried pace, and yet it comes all too soon for Eric. He and Minwoo close up the Wolf and Rabbit at exactly 4PM so they can all head home and get ready. Andy, who only found out about the excursion minutes before Minwoo comes to pick them up (on purpose, so Eric didn’t have to deal with frenetic six-year-old energy on top of everything else), practically vibrates with excitement, while Eric struggles to maintain his composure despite being a tangled bundle of nerves. The car ride is the longest ten minutes of his life, with only Andy’s excited chattering and the radio to fill the seconds as they pass.

 

I met my love, I said goodbye
For endless days, I cried and laughed
These times and moments
They are so beautiful yet so painful

 

They drive past a sunset-stained sky as they get closer to the river. When they get to the Shin residence, everything is washed in a palette of watermelon-gold, reducing the dullness of the ending autumn. Because two of Hyesung’s cars are parked up front, Minwoo is only able to park his own car a block away.

 

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” Andy says as Eric unbuckles him from the car seat. “Will there be mac n’ cheese?”

 

“Uh…” Eric hadn’t considered what Hyesung’s plans would be. He just hopes that if he does decide to cook on his own, that it would be far better than the kimbap he keeps making for Junjin. He realizes he needs to set Andy’s expectations. “Probably not mac n’ cheese, kiddo.”
 

“Pizza?”

 

“I don’t know, Andy.”

 

“Well, just no sess-mee.” Andy says thoughtfully. He puffs out his cheeks. “Coz I don’t like that. Could you tell Jinnie’s Daddy that, please?”

 

“Dydy. Whatever it is, you’ll eat it, okay?” Eric reminds his son. He has confidence in his son’s manners, but this will also be the first time Andy may be eating a meal cooked by someone whose skills are evidently sub-par. If anything, Andy is also as harsh a critic as they come, and Eric doesn’t even want to imagine being in that situation with Shin Hyesung. “No ifs or buts. At least try it once.”

 

Andy frowns, and the expression looks so much like Yumi’s that Eric can feel his heart wrench. “But what if I don’t like it? I don’t like saseum-hee.”

 

“Honey, ‘saseum’ is ‘deer’, you’re getting your languages mixed up.” Eric struggles to keep up the conversation despite him feeling like he’s inhaling glass. The ghost of Yumi’s smile bobs in and out of his consciousness, but he deftly pushes the memory back into the black box of his mind. He can’t afford to be distracted. “If you don’t like the food, you can tell me. But you have to be quiet about it so we don’t hurt Jinnie’s Daddy’s feelings.”

 

“But Daddy,” Andy gasps. “If I tell you I don’t like it you’re gonna take it away and I’ll starve!”

 

“No, I won’t.” Eric has to roll his eyes at his son’s dramatic exclamations. “And you won’t starve. But you have to remember what I said, okay? What did I say that you should do?”

 

“Um. Tell Daddy stuff so I don’t starve. And don’t hurt Jinnie’s Daddy’s feelings!”

 

“…Okay, close enough.”

 

“Eric, heads up,” Minwoo calls his attention as he pulls out something from the trunk. He tosses something in Eric’s direction and he manages to catch it with open palms. A bottle lands in his hands.

 

“You’re giving him champagne?” Eric asks, although the answer is obvious.

 

“We are giving him champagne.” Minwoo corrects, still preening in front of the Maserati’s back window. “Can’t go there empty-handed.”

 

“We aren’t. I already told you I was bringing something.” Eric holds up a box of cinnamon spice and double chocolate macarons for Junjin. He hadn’t forgotten his promise about giving him more macarons, and so had baked a batch just the day before. He can’t believe Minwoo wasn’t listening to him.

 

“Well, just add that in. I’m sure they’ll go well together.”

 

“But we could just drink this.” Eric grumbles. The bottle is a 1996 Dom Perignon Oenotheque, the glass cool and olive-green under his fingers, and the label lined with delicate silver filigree and the iconic grape leaves stamping. “This thing is at least 400 dollars. I don’t think it’s what you give at a family dinner, Minwoo.”

 

“If the family you’re gonna be dining with is Shin Hyesung’s, trust me, that’s the least you can bring. Besides, I just randomly picked it up from one of the boxes in my dad’s storage cases, so it didn’t cost me a thing.” Minwoo shrugs nonchalantly before turning to him.

 

Eric squirms in discomfort. “Maybe…I dunno, maybe this really isn’t such…”

 

“Shut up, we’re already here, and everyone’s hungry, Eric. We’re not driving back. I’ll give you your own bottle of this if you want it so badly, but we’re getting through this dinner.”

 

“Yeah, Daddy,” Andy chimes in. “Let’s go. I wanna go. I wanna see Jinnie and play.”

 

Eric sighs, dread clawing at his stomach as the prospect of his escape diminishes. “Okay, fine. Fine.” He points at Minwoo. “I want that champagne ice-cold and delivered to the apartment by tomorrow, okay?”

 

Minwoo grins behind dark sunglasses. “Yeah yeah, of course.”

 

“Yay!” Andy cheers. “Let’s go, Daddy, let’s go!”

 

They hold hands as they walk towards the tall architectural masterpiece that is the Shin house. Eric’s tension grows as they make their way past the gate and up the steps towards the front door. Andy is pulling him forward while Minwoo trails behind, fiddling with his hair. Eric clutches the box of macarons and champagne bottle close to him, hoping he drops neither. Andy rings the doorbell as soon as they’re within spitting distance.

 

“Daddy, your hand is sweaty!” he complains loudly, wrenching free from his hold as they pause in front of the front door. “Don’t like.”

 

“Sorry…” Eric says, his trepidation mounting as he hears an assortment of thumps, muffled yelling, and footfall from inside the house. This is an unfamiliar feeling, and one he isn’t sure he’s fond of.

 

“I’ll get it!”

 

“Choongjae, I told you not to run on the stairs!”

 

“I’m not running, Appa—!!!”

 

The door is suddenly wrenched open with great effort, revealing Junjin on the other side, barefoot and dressed in a short-sleeved shirt over sweatpants. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair is gel-free, allowing the feathery mass to stick up on his head like a bird’s nest. His chest is heaving as he breathes in pants; he most definitely ran from wherever he had come from. He grins widely when he sees them on the doorstep, eyes bugging out as he takes in the sight of them.

 

“ANDY!”

 

“JINNIE!” Andy squeals, allowing himself to be hauled into the foyer and into a tight, rambunctious hug by the taller boy.

 

“You came!” Junjin looks so surprised, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of Andy’s face, pinching his rounded cheeks gently between his fingers. “Uncle Dongwan and my Daddy said there were visitors coming. Are you the visitor?!”

 

Andy giggles. “We’re gonna have dinner here!”

 

“Really???” Junjin looks at Eric just as he kneels down to help Andy pull his shoes off. He sways from side to side, unable to stand still even for a second. “Are you cooking, Uncle Eric? I liked the…um…miney-winey soup!”

 

“Minestrone,” Eric corrects automatically, unable to resist smiling. “And, um…no, not this time.” Truth be told, Eric is already feeling more than slightly overwhelmed, and he hopes he doesn’t end up embarrassing himself in front of Junjin at any point during the night. “I think your Daddy mentioned he was going to do cook dinner…?” He hopes Junjin would say no, but the expression on the boy’s face tells him otherwise.

 

“Oh yeah…” Junjin is trying very hard not to sound disappointed.

 

“Is Mrs. Kim not around?” Minwoo asks as he places his coat on the rack by the door. Junjin shakes his head as he also helps Andy shrug off his jacket.

 

“No, she said she was gonna go on vacation and won’t be back until Tuesday.”

 

“That’s a while, huh?”

 

“Yeah, she said she needs more rest.”

 

“So, it’s just been you and your Appa?”

 

“And Uncle Dongwan, yep.” Junjin nods, then suddenly changes tack, possibly remembering his manners. “Wait, I remember Appa said I have to bring the visitors over to him when they come.” He tugs at Eric’s shirt. “C’mon, Uncle Eric, follow me, I have to take you to Appa…”

 

Eric isn’t even able to get two words in when he finds himself getting dragged down the long hallway towards the back end of the house by a very strong seven-year-old. Unlike the last time he visited, the large house now feels more…lived in. He can see bits and bobs of toys strewn throughout the rooms and on the stairs. The air is warm and there’s a vague smell of something cooking in the air. The song that had been playing in the car is also being played inside through some speaker, the sound of it wafting through from the kitchen.

 

I met my love, I said goodbye
For endless days, I cried and laughed
These times and moments
They are so beautiful yet so painful

 

“APPA!” Junjin shouts as he bounds through the kitchen’s open doorway, his bare feet slapping against the dark kitchen tile. Eric feels his tension intensify as he follows in the boy’s wake. Hyesung is standing over a large pot boiling on the stove, dressed in khaki-colored dock shorts and a soft quartz-colored shirt, one hand on his hip as he stares intensely at his phone. At Junjin’s call, he turns, his disdainful expression quickly disappearing as he looks up at his boy.

 

“Oof! Hello!” Hyesung says as Junjin crashes into him and starts clambering upwards. He angles himself away from the flame. “Choongjae, careful, careful, there’s hot stuff on there.”

 

“I brought the visitors like you said, Appa, but you didn’t tell me it was gonna be Andy!!!” Junjin says as he presses his forehead against Hyesung’s playfully, obviously excited beyond belief and uncaring of the kitchen hazards that surround them. Eric can feel his heartbeat hasten at Junjin’s boisterous movements, but miraculously, his small foot misses the knife laying on the counter, and nothing catches fire despite them being so close to the stove.

 

“Didn’t I?” Hyesung says in equal jest. It will never cease to amaze Eric how different Hyesung can be around his son; Junjin is practically all over him, pinching, ruffling, poking, and yet the smile stays on Hyesung’s face. Any other person would have probably been dead by now, including Eric, even if the most he’s doing is just watching the scene take place. “I could’ve sworn I did!”

 

“Uncle Dongwan and you love to play tricks on me! I should punish you.” Junjin says, smooshing his father’s cheeks between his small palms.

 

“If you don’t like it, I can ask them to go.” Hyesung says with difficulty, his lips forced to purse like a fish, but he makes no move to remove Junjin’s hands. “Tell them we can have it another time…”

 

“No!!! They can stay...”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes!!!” Junjin peers at the pot over Hyesung’s shoulder. “What is that, Appa? What are you cooking? Uncle Eric can cook.”

 

“No, we aren’t going to let Uncle…Eric…cook.” Hyesung’s face has turned into a vibrant shade of beet red, but Eric can’t really tell if it’s due to Junjin having him in a choke hold, or if he’s just embarrassed. Although he doesn’t mean to, it’s at this point that their eyes meet, and Hyesung gives him a stiff nod. “Hello, Eric Mun. Young Andy. Minwoo-sshi.”

 

Andy thankfully reacts faster than Eric, and is quick to give a bow. “Annyeonghaseyo,” he says in heavily accented Korean, then promptly straightens, rubbing his nose. He sidesteps towards Eric and clings to his leg, too shy to continue any further. Eric gives his son a comforting pat on the head.

 

“Oh? That’s Korean!” Hyesung looks pleasantly surprised.

 

“Yeah! I taught him, Appa!” Junjin says, puffing his chest out with pride.

 

“Wow, I haven’t actually heard him speak Korean before.” Minwoo says, walking up to crouch beside Andy. He gives the boy a fond pinch. “Nice job, our Andy!”

 

“He can speak a bit more but he’s shy,” Junjin says, code-switching with ease. “Andy, if you speak a bit more, I’ll give you a stamp! Like what Teacher Amy gives us.”

 

“Maybe.” Andy is still half-hidden behind Eric. “Maybe later.”

 

“Now now,” Hyesung says, now untangling his son and placing him back on the floor. “I’m sure Andy will speak in Korean when he’s ready. No need to rush him, Choongjae.”

 

“I’m noooot.” Junjin whines as he pulls on his father’s arm, using him as an anchor so that he can lean back and stand diagonal from the kitchen floor. “Can we go upstairs, Appa? Can we play?”

 

“Yes, please, so you both can get out of our hair long enough to finish dinner—” Hyesung stumbles backwards as Junjin quickly releases him and frees him of extra weight. Eric watches as Junjin surges forward and grasps Andy by the wrist, pulling him out of the kitchen. “Choongjae! Don’t run! And don’t pull on Andy so hard!”

 

“I’m not!” Junjin says, although they’re already turning the corner and are quickly out of sight, leaving them with Junjin’s rapid chatting and the boys’ rowdy footfall on the stairs as the only indicators of their lingering presence. Seconds pass, and soon the kitchen plunges into an awkward silence as the boys get too far up to hear. Minwoo and Hyesung are left staring at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Determined not to do exactly that, Eric turns his gaze to the pot on the stove.

 

Minwoo starts, but is interrupted by Hyesung who speaks at the same time: “We brought you—”

 

“You didn’t have to—”

 

“What were you saying?”
 

“No, you first…”

 

“Hyesung, watch out!”

 

Despite having his arms full, Eric rushes forward and pulls Hyesung away from where he was standing much too close to the stove. The water in the pot is boiling over and spilling out onto the tile in angry gurgles; there’s too much water in a too-small pot, and the fire is too strong. Eric maneuvers himself to avoid being splashed on and quickly turns the stove off.

 

“Whoa!” Minwoo shouts. He rushes towards him, taking the champagne and macarons in the process. “Are you guys okay?” he asks, but Eric ignores him, already studying the pot and the random ingredients arranged on the counter.

 

“Are you cooking…ramen?” he asks Hyesung, his tone bordering on baffled.

 

“No.” There are pink spots on Hyesung’s cheeks. “That’s obviously not ramen.”

 

“But this is a pot for ramen.” Eric is peering into the pot where a nest of noodles has seemingly settled on the bottom. He reaches for the tongs and is unsurprised to see that they’ve stuck fast. “How long have you been boiling this for?”

 

“Um. Maybe ten minutes?”

 

Eric lifts the pot and moves it to one of the back burners. The bottom is scorched black. “Seriously?”

 

Hyesung’s blushing has reached fiery proportions. “Look, I was trying to follow instructions and got distracted. It’s still edible, no doubt.”

 

Minwoo peers into the pot as well. “Yeah, no. That just looks like trouble. Hope this wasn’t an expensive pot because that’ll be hell to clean.”

 

“I have more pasta. It’s fine. It’s fine…” Hyesung dismisses their concerns with a wave of his hand and starts opening cupboards. “I know I have a bigger pot SOMEWHERE…”

 

“We got you champagne by the way. And macarons for Junjin. Well, Eric did.” Minwoo places the packages on the kitchen island. “Shall I put the champagne in ice?”

 

“Thank you, and yes. There should be ice in the fridge. The bucket is…somewhere. I’m sure you’ll find it.” Hyesung says absent-mindedly as he continues his search. Eric watches him with a vague sort of amusement; he obviously doesn’t know where anything is in his kitchen. “Mrs. Kim was supposed to already be back but she took an extended vacation.” He’s borderline whining, which is more entertaining than anything. “But these should be easy recipes. She was the one who gave me them.”

 

“Was she confident in your skills enough?” Minwoo says from somewhere, before appearing from behind one of the cupboards, brandishing a silver ice bucket. “Aha! Found it.”

 

“If you must know,” Hyesung says heatedly. He’s still looking for a pot. “She thinks I can manage quite well.”

 

“What are you making exactly?” Eric eyes the ingredients on the counter: spaghetti noodles, a package of deveined shrimp, mayonnaise, sugar…

 

“Pasta…myeongran jeot. Do you know that?” Hyesung turns in time to see the confused expression on Eric’s face. “Figures.”

 

“Shrimp?”

 

“Cod roe.” Minwoo supplies as he tips over a full glass of ice into the bucket. The crash of ice against metal combined with the repetitive banging of cupboard doors being opened and closed makes Eric’s teeth hurt. He can’t believe how much noise they’re making, and no one is even cooking. He approaches the counter, determined to get some control over things.

 

“But why would you need mayonnaise?”

 

“Cream shrimp too. I wanted to make cream shrimp…HA! Here we are, back in business.” Hyesung holds up a large stew pot and Eric rolls his eyes as he opens the cupboard nearest to him and pulls out a pasta pot, complete with a strainer. He shows it wordlessly to Hyesung, whose mouth drops. “How did you even know that was there?”

 

“Not the first time I’ve gone through your kitchen,” Eric says, then snaps back to attention as soon as he realizes what he’s said. He doesn’t mean to bring up his last visit; it’s already uncomfortable enough for him, let alone Hyesung. He’s surprised, however, when Hyesung just shrugs in reply.

 

“I was so out of it, you wouldn’t believe. I only woke up because Dongwan practically poured a glass of water on me.” Hyesung is filling the pasta pot now with water before placing it on the stove. He doesn’t look at Eric once. “After that I just vaguely remember threatening someone and thinking it may have been a dream. Crazy.”

 

Eric snorts. “Yeah, sure. Crazy. You nearly killed me with a baseball bat.”

 

“Well you were in my house without invitation.” Hyesung huffs. “And you exaggerate. I barely touched you.”

 

“You really were going to, you know. I was only able to stop you because I called Dongwan.”

 

“Still your own fault. I would have gone for the self-defense angle if we had taken this to court.”

 

Although his tone is light, Hyesung is still avoiding his gaze, and Eric wonders if he actually remembers more than he lets on, especially the information he had revealed about his wife. He mulls over his next statement quickly, biting his lip as he does so.

 

“This is supposed to be like a thank you dinner, isn’t it?” he says instead of asking about his wife and inches back towards familiar territory. Animosity is a game both he and Hyesung play well when they’re together. “Why am I being attacked?”

 

This time Hyesung looks up at him, smirking. Predictable bastard.

 

“I don’t see anything wrong in stating facts.”

 

“Please.”

 

“Trespassing is a crime too.”

 

“Should’ve left you to die then.”

 

“I can call the police right now, that is, actually, a very grave threat—”

 

“AAAGHH, HYESUNG!”

 

Someone is yelling from the staircase, causing them to turn, startled at the sound. It’s accompanied by, oddly enough, merry giggling. No sooner than it starts however, Dongwan bursts into the kitchen, looking like he just rolled out of bed, with both Junjin and Andy hanging off of him like a pair of chortling monkeys.

 

“Kim Dongwan!” Minwoo says, sounding pleasantly surprised, conveniently ignoring the riotous act on display. Both boys are brandishing wooden swords and wearing plastic armor and hitting Dongwan with them in turns.

 

“Sunho!” Eric scolds at the same time Hyesung also says, “Choongjae!” Surprised at the mention of his Korean name, Andy quickly releases the hold he has on Dongwan’s neck and lands on his feet on the kitchen floor. Junjin, however, latches onto Dongwan more by wrapping his legs around his waist.

 

“Yah!” he yells to Andy, waving a free hand. “We aren’t done yet! We have to defeat the monster!”

 

“I know, but my Daddy…” Andy throws a nervous glance at Eric, who raises his eyebrows questioningly. The boy gives him a sheepish smile back.

 

“How am I even a monster? I was sleeping then I was ambushed with no probable cause.” Dongwan whines as Junjin manages to hit him with the sword again. “Ow!”

 

“A sleeping dragon! Oops, sorry, samcheon.” Junjin offers an apologetic hug and kiss to the spot on Dongwan’s arm that he’d struck.

 

“Yah, Shin Choongjae, release your samcheon.” Hyesung says. “Get down from there. Did you wake him up?”

 

“…Kinda.”

 

“Good boy. Now get down.”

 

“How are you even here?” Minwoo asks as Junjin finally lets go of Dongwan and lands on the floor near Andy. Dongwan rubs his face, gathering his bearings from the rude wake-up call.

 

“I live here.” Dongwan says as-a-matter-of-factly. “Well, most of the time.”

 

“You forgot to mention that the last time.”

 

Dongwan raises an eyebrow. “Should I have?”

 

“No but I would think it should have at least been…I dunno.” Minwoo flails at his words. Eric tries not to smirk.

 

“It’s not a big deal.” Dongwan approaches the refrigerator to get a glass of water. Junjin and Andy are play-fighting with the swords near it and he nimbly avoids them. Eric can see as Minwoo follows Dongwan with his eyes. Much like Hyesung and Junjin, Dongwan is dressed in comfortable clothes; quite literally, he’s still in his pajamas and in the rattiest t-shirt Eric has ever seen, but this seems to go unnoticed by his usually fashion-conscious best friend. Eric flicks a piece of raw pasta noodle at Minwoo, who manages to look both irritated and embarrassed at having been caught, his ears quickly flushing bright red.

 

“Have you been in bed this entire time?” Hyesung says as Dongwan, now armed with his glass of water, approaches the kitchen island where the four of them have congregated. His face is creased with annoyance, a foil to Dongwan’s perpetually cheerful demeanor. “It’s evening!”

 

“I was up editing. I think I slept at…10, maybe.”

 

“You haven’t showered.”

 

“No , Sherlock.” Dongwan says, then immediately looks sheepish as Hyesung hisses at him, gesturing to the children. “Sorry.”

 

“How are you even…connected…anyway?” Eric asks the riddle he and Minwoo have long been grappling with.

 

“He’s my good friend…and my brother-in-law.” Hyesung says, and Dongwan nods. Eric tries not to look so surprised. “One of the guest bedrooms is his…lair. Or something. Since he never keeps it clean.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Oh?” Minwoo perks up, looking very interested. “This is sounding like the beginnings of a very good story.”

 

“It really isn’t.” Hyesung doesn’t bite the bait, his gaze having drifted to the two boys still engaged in a rather animated swordfight around the island. He clucks his tongue as they duck and twirl across the tiles. “Choongjae. Choongjae, don’t swing so hard, please.”

 

“Sorry.” Junjin says hurriedly before softening his parrying towards Andy. Eric steals a quick look at his son; the grin on Andy’s face is practically giving his glee away. Whatever Junjin is doing, his boy is obviously enjoying, and to Eric, that’s the only thing that matters at the moment.

 

“Maybe if we get drunk enough, you’ll know the story.” Dongwan waggles his eyebrows at Minwoo.

 

“Yah.” Hyesung warns, but Dongwan shrugs his concern off with a laugh. At the same time, one of the boys bumps into him and he abandons all pretenses at being an adult and launches into play mode, lunging at them with growls and snarls as they shriek and scatter in different directions. Minwoo gets in on the action too and chases Junjin into the hallway, while Dongwan picks up Andy who’s shrieking with laughter, and heaves him over his shoulder.

 

“I’ve got you now, you little rebel!” Dongwan growls, then nuzzles his face against Andy’s soft belly. Andy laughs and laughs, the sound like the pealing of a thousand silver bells. Eric feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end; he hasn’t heard his son laugh like that in a long time.

 

“Daddy! No—! Uncle Dongwan! STOP!” Andy is giggling and wriggling to be free, but Dongwan has him in a strong grip. Minwoo re-enters with a captured Junjin in his arms, his face red and sweat-streaked from running. He too is haplessly squealing with delight as Minwoo makes exaggerated chomping and chewing sounds.

 

“Seems like we’ll be having kid stew for dinner.” Minwoo says, twisting his face as he speaks, already deep into play-acting.

 

Dongwan nods. “It seems so.”

 

“This one is feisty but has soft round cheeks.” Minwoo makes loud smacking sounds, and Eric sees as Hyesung rolls his eyes while hiding a smile behind his hand. “Yum. Yum.”

 

“NO!” Junjin kicks his feet to no avail. “Appa, help!”

 

“Play with Uncle Minwoo and samcheon first, Choongjae.” Hyesung merely waves at him. “We have to finish dinner.”

 

“NOOOO! HE’LL EAT ME!”

 

“Daddy!” Andy is also squealing as he’s held sideways by Dongwan. “SAVE ME!”

 

“You’ll be okay, buddy.” Eric tries to reassure his son despite the ringing in his ears from the volume of the children’s voices. “I’ll kill that troll if he harms a single hair on your head.”

 

“Yah!” Dongwan laughs and breaks character. “You think I don’t know that English word? Troll? I may be shorter than you, Eric but—ANDY! Did you fart??”

 

And grins. “Maybe,” he says, and Dongwan wrinkles his nose.

 

“Oh man. Are you a grandpa? That is a grandpa fart!”

 

“It is not!” Andy exclaims, still laughing.

 

“I’m taking this prisoner upstairs.” Minwoo says amidst Junjin’s ruckus. “Maybe I need to marinade him a bit.”

 

“I’m taking this stinky one too. Maybe he needs a bath.”

 

“I DO NOT!”

 

“We’ll see about that.”

 

Eric and Hyesung watch as Minwoo and Dongwan bodily carry the children out, making slurping and stomping noises as they go. The boys are utterly entranced and distracted by the play, yelling and squealing as they’re hauled from the room. It’s not until the four of them are fully upstairs and the kitchen once again settles into silence that Eric hears Hyesung release a deep sigh.

 

“Honest to God, I’m just about to order a McDonald’s.” Hyesung mutters. “There’s no way cooking a damn dinner is this difficult.”

 

“The pot is boiling over.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s boiling over. Again.” Eric gestures to the pot on the stove and Hyesung yelps and jumps up.

 

“!”

 

“We haven’t put anything in it yet, so nothing’s ruined…yet.” Eric approaches the stove after Hyesung to make sure nothing has been boiled beyond recognition. Thankfully the pot still only contains water. He holds out his hand towards the other man. “Let me read your recipe.”

 

“No.” Hyesung says stubbornly. “Shut up and sit down, I’m not letting you cook.”

 

“You’re more likely to burn your house down rather than have us eat dinner at any point tonight.”

 

“I resent that.”

 

“Hyesung.”

 

“Eric Mun. You’re my guest.”

 

“Hyesung. The kids will be very hungry soon. I’m very hungry.” The fear and anxiety he had felt from earlier is almost completely gone, having been overtaken by his slowly-increasing hunger. “For God’s sake.”

 

“You don’t even know what myeongran jeot is.” Hyesung frowns and folds his arms like a stubborn child. “How would you know how to cook it?”

 

Eric wants to laugh. “Shin Hyesung-sshi,” he says, trying with all his might not to sound condescending. “I’m literally a chef. Give me the ing recipe.”

 

Hyesung’s mouth drops. “That is literally so rude, you American .”

 

“Or not. I can look up a damn recipe on my phone.”

 

“It won’t be the same—Fine, here you are.” Hyesung shoves him his phone with the Notes app opened. “I’m starting to regret ever doing this.”

 

“You’ll thank me later when you’re actually fed.” Eric scans the recipe, then checks his watch. The pasta is easy enough, but the cream shrimp Hyesung had wanted to do will take far too much time. “Hyesung.”

 

“What?” Hyesung now has an iPad in his hands. Music starts up again from a hidden speaker. It’s still the same song that had played in Minwoo’s car. The same one that had been playing when they had walked into the kitchen. Eric hadn’t even noticed it had stopped.

 

Even though I avoid pain, I run into another pain
I couldn’t see the happiness that was next to me

 

“We’re going to have to cut the cream shrimp. We’ll be having dinner at 9PM if we force it.”

 

Hyesung frowns but doesn’t disagree. “Yeah, even Mrs. Kim always takes a while with that. It’s a lot of batter-rolling and frying.”

 

“Yeah so we’re going to have to improvise.” Eric glances around the counter. He’s rolled up his sleeves and has put on the apron folded on the counter. Hyesung must have been wearing it earlier because it smells of him, like peaches and spice. Eric ignores how his stomach warms at the thought. “Where’s this cod roe thing?”

 

“On the counter, the one that looks like…stretched .”

 

Eric looks…then bursts into laughter when he realizes Hyesung isn’t wrong.

 

You don’t know how much I regret letting you go
I don’t even want to lose time to say this right now
At this moment

 

“What?”

 

“You are so…ing juvenile.”

 

“Look who’s talking.” Hyesung snorts. “You’re laughing and blushing like a thirteen-year-old hiding out in the boys’ bathroom.”

 

“I’ve seen worse. But Junjin eats this?” Eric holds up the cod roe in his palm. It glistens pink under the light. He sniffs it; it smells of the sea. He’s never cooked with this ingredient before, but he isn’t too worried.

 

“Yes.” Hyesung sighs. “His mother was – is,” he corrects himself quickly, “part-Japanese. She used to cook this for him. He loves it. I do too, but we only have it on special occasions.”

 

Junjin’s mother. Hyesung’s ex-wife. Eric stills and tries not to react too hastily.

 

Time flows just until here
In the end, it will just remain as a memory

 

“Is Dongwan part-Japanese too?” he asks, opting to go for the more logical question. He’s surprised when Hyesung still answers.

 

“Yes. They share the same mother. But Dongwan is older and had a different father.” Hyesung suddenly straightens, looking slightly panicked. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

 

I’m afraid of starting over again
in case I meet pain and would have to say goodbye

 

Eric avoids his gaze. “I’ve already forgotten it.”

 

“I mean it.” Hyesung’s voice has gone soft. “Please forget I said anything…about Shoo. All of it.”

 

The plea in his voice feels like a punch to the gut. He knows this same pain intimately, of a hidden wound being exposed right down to the bone. It’s made infinitely worse if it’s in front of someone who was never supposed to know, especially to a total stranger-turned-half-enemy. And perhaps, this is the real reason for this dinner after all: the salvaging of a pride long crushed into dust.

 

Suddenly Eric wants nothing more than to reach out his hand for Hyesung to hold.

 

The thing about love is it can’t be stopped
So the pain is repeated

 

“Eric, please…”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eric says, cutting Hyesung to the quick. “Now shut up, I can’t cook if you keep talking.”

 

Hyesung is silent for a moment, as though mulling his words.

 

“Okay, I won’t talk.” He sounds oddly agreeable. “But you won’t mind music, right?”

 

“I’ll do my job as a chef. You do your job as a DJ. Or whatever it is you do. That’s your contribution.”

 

“That sounded mildly insulting…”

 

“D’you wanna switch then?”

 

“No no!” Hyesung waves him off. “Fine. Let’s just do the stuff we’re really supposed to be doing.”

 

“Good.” Eric is somehow able to breathe easier at this suggestion. For his own sanity and safety, he wants to strap Hyesung to his seat and not come near the stove ever again.

 

“Now hurry up, I want to eat within this century.” Hyesung says, then backtracks when Eric throws him a dirty glance. “I’m kidding. Yeesh. Can’t take a joke. .”

 

It hurts so much
But love comes to me again
Without me realizing

 

--

 

Salted cod roe comes sold in sacs at markets. It kind of resembles stretched , but this is information you don’t need to tell your precocious six-year-old and his best friend.

Obtain the roe by cutting the sac open with a knife. Scrape all the roe out with the knife or a small spoon. It should be easy, especially if ballads are playing in the background. Discard the membrane.

 

While you’re doing this, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. When it does, cook your spaghetti noodles. Al dente takes about 10 minutes. 10 minutes will not give you goo that gets stuck to the bottom of the pot. Whoever tells you they cooked pasta in 10 minutes and comes up with that is obviously lying.

 

Mix Japanese mayonnaise, heavy cream, and the roe in a large bowl until well combined. Set aside.

 

While your pasta is still cooking, add butter to another pot and start sauteeing some chopped onions and garlic. Add an entire package of deveined shrimp and other fresh seafood you may have in stock. A marinara mix will go well with it, if available, but otherwise, shrimp and some cuts of white fish and a handful of squid should work. Add fish stock and allow it to simmer until the seafood is completely cooked through.

 

Strain the seafood mixture and add to the roe cream. Mix gently but thoroughly. Add the cooked pasta. Taste. Season with salt, pepper, and lemon according to your preferences.

 

Top with a soft-boiled egg for extra richness or shredded roasted seaweed (if you aren’t allergic).

 

Serve with any sort of bubbly (or fancy champagne, if you prefer). Consider it a success if your child remembers his manners and praises the host because “it’s so good” and “it’s something Daddy should make too” in Korean, because all of a sudden his tongue is loose and finally reconciling with the motherland, and you can sort of hope it’s no longer going to be like some party trick.

 

Toast to a largely successful night. Hold your gaze if the host’s eyes and yours meet, like you’re telepathically communicating some mutual agreement that you no longer want to speak out loud. Ignore your best friend when he starts demanding what it is you and the host have discussed while he was gone and who it really was that cooked the pasta dish. Ignore the host’s unshowered brother-in-law who’s demanding the same thing.

 

Laugh out loud when the host laughs, because his laughter is something you want to hear more of and is causing something to bloom inside you faster than the sadness can swallow. Laugh despite the fear and uncertainty. Laugh because the children are laughing along with you, and you have never seen either of them so happy before. You marvel at how perfect they are despite being broken. You remember there is beauty still in broken things…

 

--

 

“Eric Mun?”

 

A tiny unnamed thing, unfurling in the darkness.

 

“What?”

 

He is afraid, but he keeps himself within the present moment.

 

“…Nothing. I forgot.”

 

It’s nothing, of course. Absolutely nothing.

 

 

 

tbc

 

Author's Notes
1. Largely unchecked, but I've been working on this on and off the past couple of weeks and at this point I just needed it to go out already. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I was also working a lot. Maybe I'll keep editing after I publish. Maybe. 
2. I'll get to your comments soon but thank you so much for all of them. Honestly they're the sole reason this chapter even got finished.
3. MAN WE ARE MAKING PROGRESS. AS WE SHOULD. THIS CHAPTER WAS 7600+ WORDS. 
4. The kids are so cute and so so rowdy, I can't stress that enough. OT6 are a headache to write in this context. All the pairs are wanting to be doing different things.
5. The 1st song that Hyesung is playing via his very sappy station is by Park Hyoshin and I think it is called Memories Look a Lot Like Love. The second song is the one and only Beautiful Pain by BTOB. Honestly Hyesung's taste is just so...LOL. He's just a sappy guy who will probably never admit it out loud.