* * *

Time to take stock, Kikwang thought the following morning, shutting his eyes just as soon as he opened them. Taking a deep breath, he focused hard on his thoughts, seizing them and puzzling them together. What didn’t fit, Kikwang simply discarded. Things need to make sense. Things needed to be consistent with each other.

My name is Lee Kikwang. I am thirty-two years old. I have a good job in a well-known company. I have been married to a beautiful wife for six years. I have a son. And that is all.

Suddenly, Kikwang felt his own lips curve to form a smile. Things did fit. Things did make sense. He was living a good, normal life.

Who knows why that smile felt so bitter.

Jumping up, Kikwang ignored the lovebite-covered body in his bed, fast asleep. Feverish, he found an outfit for work, neatly folded and just his size, on a chair near the bed. Naturally, Yoseob was far too short to wear such clothes – but Kikwang pushed the suspicions away with ease.

Yoseob didn’t wash and fold a fresh outfit for him. He certainly didn’t do it for every morning, before Kikwang wakes up, then went back to sleep. This was not the reason Yoseob was always late for work.

Actually, Yoseob had never been to Kikwang’s apartment at all and was surely not in his bed right now.

At least, that’s what Kikwang hammered into his own head as he straightened his tie and put on his best smile for work.

Over the crack in the cup, Kikwang had placed a new layer of white paint.

* * *

Dissonance drives us to restore consistency.

The morning sun was strangely bright that Wednesday.

“Yo what’s up!” Yoseob called cheerfully, voice loud and high, carelessly throwing his business case onto the table and barely missing Kikwang’s coffee.

“Not much. By the way, how do you like your coffee? I made it sweet, but I’m not sure…”

Carefully, Yoseob pulled the cup towards himself, leaning down towards it and bathing in the rich aroma and steam. A tranquil smile spread on his face, the smile of a sated cat. “Couldn’t drink it any other way.”

* * *