09 - Baby Daddy

I've never put so much thought into one thing in my entire life. If this doesn't work out perfectly, someone's going to die. As of this point, I think Zico's the best candidate.

"So let me digest this," Jihoon says, and I'm not sure if he's talking about what I've just told him or about the five pounds of expired burritos melting his insides. "You want me to marry you?"

For once, he actually seems to be taking something seriously. I nod, lacing my hands on his desk. "It's an offer you can't refuse."

It's true. Although Minhyuk's a good option, I've come to Jihoon for a reason: I know he's broke poor and desperate for something exciting to happen in his life.

"I'm still in college!" Jihoon points out. "I haven't even thought about kids."

I sigh, looking at him as if his mind will suddenly switch gears and realize what I'm saying. I'm concerned all of that hair dye he's used has absorbed the oxygen in his brain. "Jihoon, what did I just say?"

"I know, I know," Jihoon says. He looks like his mind is working overtime to process this all. "Okay, so I just pretend to be your babby daddy? No actual baby is involved."

"Exactly," I say. I smile, hoping it's enough to reassure him. "We split the hush money 50/50. Your parents won't even need to know about it if we do this right."

"My parents are dead," Jihoon answers. I feel like a horrible person for feeling relieved, but I guess it's not the worst thing about me to be harping about.

"Sorry to hear that," I tell him, frowning.

He shrugs. "Didn't know them that well. I'm sure my grandma won't care, though."

"So do we have a deal?" I ask. He seems to be pretty sold on the idea. College students always have their priorities out of wack.

"Yup," Jihoon answers, speaking before I even have the time to finish my question.

"Yup?" I repeat. "You sure? We could possibly lose our jobs." It's a hell of a commitment to make (not that I'm complaining about how eager he is).

Jihoon plays with his lower lip, tugging it idly between his fingers. God, sometimes he looks like a little kid crammed in the body of an adult. I hope I'm not making a mistake here.

"Yeah, well, when you're a college student and you're offered free money, you don't question it," Jihoon says. "I had to sell my TV last week to pay for rent. Couldn't even watch the finale of Dancing with the Stars."

"I have a free couch in my apartment," I tell him. I feel obligated to help him out somehow. "In case things get tough and you need a place to crash."

"Oh, thank God," Jihoon says. He exhales so heavily, I can smell a hint of burrito on his breath. "I got evicted a month ago. I've been sleeping here ever since."

Well, I'm glad I'm doing business with an honest man.

Jihoon and I sneak out of the office (which really isn't that hard since everyone's too bent out of shape by Prank Wars) and stroll down the city street trying to elaborate on our plan.

"We met at the grocery store," Jihoon says, thinking all of this as he goes, "I had the last pack of instant ramen in my hands. I wanted it, you wanted it-"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I left home already in love with you, remember? I didn't go grocery shopping when I was rich." Why he insists on bringing food into every idea he has is beyond me. Whatever gets him going, I guess.

"Oh!" Jihoon says. His voice is so deep, I'd be lying if I said he doesn't scare the out of me every time he suddenly speaks. "Here we go. So Kyung brought me as his date to one of those charity events last fall-"

"Kyung did?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. As soon as I think I have Kyung all figured out, I realize I actually know nothing at all.

"Yeah," Jihoon says, "he knows how much I love free food. Anyway, you also happened to be there. We grabbed the same stuffed mushroom. I wanted it, you wanted it, and we've been in love ever since."

"Not bad," I say, nodding approvingly. "That event was how long ago?"

"Like six months," Jihoon says, counting on his fingers. "Yup, definitely six months ago. It was in October."

I do all of the math in my head, then nod. It works. Knowing how many events my parents made me go to, I wouldn't doubt it if I actually was there. "Good. Let's go with that story."

I hail a taxi and Jihoon looks at me. "Wait, where are we going?"

"The company headquarters," I say, opening the taxi door for him. "We're going to see Zico's parents."

For two people who created a devil child like Zico, Mr. Woo and his wife are surprisingly tolerable. It's weird. I guess it's true: bad things always happen to good people.

"Dahee, what a pleasant surprise," Mr. Woo says, smiling wide as he gestures for me and Jihoon to have a seat in his office. He looks so kind, homely even -- it sort of makes me feel sorry for what I'm about to say, for every bad thing I've ever done in my life.  

"Hello, Mr. Woo," I say, smiling.

If I reiterated everything I said in the following hour, you'd probably feel like stuffing your fist in your mouth just to distract yo