chapter one

ONCE UPON A TIME there existed a Loser Club at Yonsei University, and all the freshmen who had been admitted to Yonsei, which was a relief itself if you considered the amount of efforts one had put into studying, were faced with another dreading question regarding their future at the university. 

Will I receive the Loser Ticket, or will I be able to live my life peacefully from now on?

It wasn’t an officially registered club. Only if you were student at Yonsei, would you know about its small existence. The members always kept its presence quiet, behind closed doors, and you would only find out about the content of their meetings when you were invited and had accepted their membership in the beginning of your first year.

To say that an invitation to the Loser Club would ruin one’s life at university was exaggerated. Many students didn’t even care about its existence, were too focussed on their studies. But most freshmen didn’t know that, so they would come up with such reasons to explain above sentiment:

Freshman A would say, “I don’t want to receive a Loser Ticket because the fact that those members thought I could fit into their club only means that something might be wrong with me. And I wouldn’t be able to live with such a reality.”

Freshman B would claim, “I think the whole concept of a Loser Club is just stupid. Just why would you celebrate being an outsider and happily join people who think they are special because they don’t fit the rest?”

In March, at the beginning of my first year at Yonsei, I, Nam Juhee, received the infamous Loser Ticket.

☃ ☃ ☃

My brother and I were both occupying the main bathroom in the second floor because the one downstairs wasn’t equipped with a blow dryer and the mirror there was also too small for my brother’s liking. In addition, the bathroom in the first floor always smelled a little unpleasant for no apparent reason, and when I once asked my mom about it, she said that we hardly ever open the small window in there so all the bad air and foul gases just stay inside, never finding freedom because of my family’s laziness. After I was told that, I made it my goal to occasionally air the room out.

But for now, I had to use the bathroom in the second floor because my hair was still thoroughly drenched, and my mom hated it when I would go out without having completely dried my hair. She was of the opinion that the ignorant act of not drying one’s hair would result in migraine and other headaches when you were old and couldn’t undo the mistakes of your youth.

“SO YOU’LL BECOME A YONSEI STUDENT TODAY, HUH,” shouted my brother Woohyun through the noises of the blow dryer. He was still fixing his fringe, delicately using his thumb and index finger to position the hair above his brows, when he asked, “ARE YOU EXCITED?”

I turned off the device, and placed it back into the drawer. “Of course, I am.”

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when youㅡ”

He was interrupted by our father barging in, which caused us both to jump in surprise at the sight of him in his boxers. Father looked at both of us and said, “Woohyun, Juhee, are you guys done yet? You aren’t the only people in the house who need to use the bathroom.”

“We have one downstairs. Just use that one.”

My father looked at Woohyun with impatient eyes. “Your mom is using it.”

“Is it so urgent?” asked my brother.

“It is.”

“Well, I’m done anyways.” Woohyun ruffled his hair one last time before looking at me. “What about you?”

I saw the distressed look on my father’s face, and decided then to wear a hat to cover my drenched hair. If my father says something is urgent, it really is. And I had learned to not question his motives any further whenever he would say something was urgent. So I walked out, allowing him to release his urgent business. Whatever it was, I didn’t need to know.

I went back to my room to grab my backpack and my beanie, but was surprised to find Woohyun following me. Although he claimed that he had fixed his hair already, his hands were still busy retouching it. He didn’t look at me when he said, “When you have your first class, remember to make friends. It will be easier for you since you are my little sister, but just don’t get isolated.”

“Okay,” I told him, slightly touched that my brother cared about me. I put the black beanie over my head.

“And also,” he added, now leaning against my door frame, “it’s best to avoid certain people. You know, those students that might be bad influence and all.”

I nodded, slipping my arms through the straps of my backpack. “Okay.”

“Then let’s go.”

The hallway in the second floor led from my room to my mom’s office, in the middle branching off to the staircase. My brother’s room was next to mine, and he had his own little corridor with a small window in the wall, which was theoretically speaking my window. If I sat at my study desk and looked up, I would be able to make a list on how often Woohyun left his room because I had a full view of his corridor.

We exited my room, and passed by the bathroom, faintly hearing our father making weird noises, then took the staircase to the first floor. We met Mom just as she was about to walk up, probably to see why we had taken so long. She smiled at both of us, pinching Woohyun’s cheeks the way she always did, and hugged me.

“You are going to be late,” she said. “Where’s your father?”

“Taking a dump,” replied Woohyun simply, as if he weren’t talking about human excrement. Mom and I chuckled a little.

“Then I will be driving you to Yonsei.” Mom turned around and started talking to herself, asking an imaginary person where her car keys were. She patted the pockets of her loose pants and looked at us without really looking at us. Then suddenly, as though remembering something important, she walked to me with wide eyes, and pulled a white letter out. “I almost forgot. This is for you, Juhee. There’s no sender, but maybe it’s from your friend from America.”

“Australia,” I corrected, gratefully taking the letter.

Woohyun gaped at it, then clicked his tongue, and said, “I still need to buy my lunch at Subway’s. So we better go now and leave Dad to his morning bowel movement.”

☃ ☃ ☃

Mom drove us all the way from Suyu to Yonsei, stopping by at Subway’s to buy our lunch. She entered the campus from the West Gate and pulled up in front of Samsung Hall, where the College of Human Ecology was located. Before I could step out of the car and give Mom a kiss on her cheek, Woohyun asked me whether I would be able to find my first class. I smiled at him and said that it wasn’t so difficult as long as you were guided to the entrance of your hall. Mom made sure that I had my T Money card with me (so that I would be able to take the subway station back home), then drove away to drop my brother at the Education Sciences hall.

I walked into the building, and followed the signs to my first class. My major was Interior Architecture, and I remembered how dreadful and tiring it was during the art classes in high school when the subject had been Interior. It was complex and not as easy as many would believe. But despite the amount of efforts one would have to put into such a work, it was fun. In a weird way. Working with an oversized ruler and drawing faint vanishing lines to create space was most of the times difficult and time-consuming, but the result was always satisfying. Not to mention the brainstorming before actually visualising the room.

I entered the classroom, and found most of the students that were already inside staring at me. There was a look of recognition on their faces, and I supposed it was because I was Nam Woohyun’s little sister. Being in Yonsei’s football team did make my brother a bit famous among the student body. And as the little sister I was proud of him.

When I sat down somewhere at the front, I started hearing rustling noises from my and then I realised I had put something into the back pocket of my jeans before I had entered the car. It was the letter. So I pulled it out and ripped the top open, wondering whether my high school friend was having fun in Australia. She was the only person who promised me at graduation that we would keep in touch, and she was also the only one who wanted to study abroad. Many people admired her for her courage and bravery, and some were amazed by her English skills. I wondered what she would write in the letter, slightly hoping it wasn’t something in English because I wasn’t really good at it.

After taking the letter out, I immediately knew it wasn’t from my friend who was in Australia. The first inch at the top and at the bottom were in a faint dark red and the short content was aligned in the centre. It was more of a card than a letter, honestly speaking. It read:

Congratulations! You are officially invited to join the Loser Club. Please meet the members in Room B2 in the Engineering Hall II after your first class. Do not, I repeat, do not throw this ticket away or ignore it. This ticket may save your life at university. So do consider this as a gift to a new paradise. I am looking forward to be meeting you.

- LSY

I gazed at it for a long time, as if the words would change if I stared long enough, and what caught my attention was the line, “Do not, I repeat, do not throw this ticket away or ignore it.” If someone went all the way to tell someone to not ignore something, then they would probably mean it. And acting ignorant to such a plea disagreed with the way my parents had raised me. My mom always said I should always do the things people demanded from me and be an obedient child. If I acted otherwise, I would feel like I betrayed my parents. So there was only one thing I would have to do after my first class. Find Room B2 in the Engineering Hall II.

☃ ☃ ☃

The Engineering Hall II was next to the baseball field, and I was able to find it through a sophomore who told me the directions. It wasn’t that far away from Samsung Hall, but because there were three halls for the College of Engineering, I thought for a moment I had walked into Engineering Hall I or III. When I asked someone, they told me that I was correct, that this place was the Engineering Hall II. So I was relieved that I hadn’t gotten lost.

Finding B2 was easier because the room was right next to the staircase in the second floor. I almost opened the closed door in curiosity when a freshman walked up to me, and I asked, “Is this room B2?”

He nodded, and I noticed how huge his eyes were for a guy. “Yes, it is. Did you also receive the Loser Ticket?”

“Loser Ticket?” I repeated.

The freshman looked at me with furrowed brows. “You are a pretty girl. Why would they invite someone like you?”

“You are pretty, too,” I said, meaning it. “Is there a reason why pretty people can’t be invited?”

I must have asked something stupid because the guy had this weird look on his face, as though I had just confessed that I had herpes after mindlessly making out with him. He looked bewildered, but didn’t dive further into the topic. He just opened the door and let me enter first. I thanked him.

Inside the room, there were only two people. One girl sitting at the back who didn’t look at us when we walked in but was just nervously twisting one particular lock of her hair. And a guy sitting on a desk near hers, his head turned to us when the freshman next to me greeted them with a small wave of his hand and a hi.

But before we could introduce ourselves, or even say another word, a guy, probably a junior, entered the room right after us and closed the door behind him. He seemed stressed, preoccupied with his own thoughts, when he glanced at me and his eyes suddenly widened. He pointed at me and asked, “Aren’t you Nam Woohyun’s little sister?”

“Uh, yes?” I didn’t mean to sound so insecure, but the junior looked scary, and he was tall.

He tilted his head a little. “Why are you here? Who invited you?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I looked at the two at the back, as if they would know the answer to the question. To my surprise, the guy sitting on the desk stood up and walked towards us. He looked at the junior, and said, “I did.”

“You sure about her meeting the requirements for this club?” asked the scary guy.

The handsome one answered, “Yeah. I did a background check. Definitely a Loser Detected.”

I looked back and forth between the two, absolutely understanding nothing, but the freshman with the big eyes seemed to know what was going on. I wanted to nudge his sides and ask him, but the scary junior and the handsome guy had already ended their conversation, and they were both now looking at me.

“Anyways, we should start with the introductions,” said the junior. He looked away, placing the heavy books he was carrying, which I hadn’t noticed before because I had been too intimidated by his gaze and his height, on the teacher’s desk, and carried on, “My name is Lee Sungyeol and I’m the president of the Loser Club. The pseudonym you saw at the end of the letter comes from my initials. LSY. Lee. Sung. Yeol. I’m a Computer Science major. This is my third year at Yonsei. My age doesn’t matter, but for those who are curious, I’m 20. As to why I’m considered a loser in society, I’m intelligent and I don’t shy away from showing that. Some would say I’m a smart , but I think they are just ignorant and too lowbrow for me.”

He looked at the handsome guy, and the latter continued with the introduction, not allowing us enough time to process all the information.

“I’m Kim Myungsoo. A Psychology major. This month I’ll be turning 19, and I’m a sophomore.”

“Your reason for being a member of the Loser Club?” demanded the scary junior matter-of-factly.

“Ah, yeah. I read mangas in my free time. Actually, I read an excessive amount of mangas, but this hobby of mine never intervenes with my studies, so it’s okay.” The Myungsoo guy shrugged his shoulders a little. “I am considered a loser because I don’t read Shonen, and I prefer mangas that girls usually read. For no real reason.”

“What is Shonen?” I asked, curious.

The Myungsoo guy looked at me, but he didn’t have that expression of bewilderment on his face, like the freshman did. Nor did he seem weirded out by my question. He was serious and answered, “It’s mangas for guys. With a lot of action and stuff that guys are interested in.”

I nodded, and the scary junior motioned for the quiet girl at the back to speak up. But then the Myungsoo guy stepped forward and said, “It’s okay. She doesn’t like talking with strangers, so let me introduce her.”

We all patiently waited for him to continue.

“Her name is Yoon Bomi. She is a Chemistry sophomore,” he began, his voice suddenly soft and without edges. “She lives on campus, unlike us, because her parents couldn’t move to Seoul. Most of the times, you will find her studying her major or drawing molecules because she is fascinated by them. She doesn’t speak a lot, but that shouldn’t prevent you from talking to her. Bomi is really smart, and if you think you are exceptionally good at Chemistry, then you haven’t been engaged in a conversation with her before. Because she will always be so much better than you in Chemistry.”

“What’s the reason for her being in the Loser Club?” asked the freshman with the huge eyes.

The Myungsoo guy looked at Bomi, then back at us. He said, “She has Asperger. But to the rest of the people she is just a misfit in society.”

I had heard of Asperger Syndrome before. People diagnosed with this syndrome are immensely fascinated by a certain topic and can talk on and on about their field of interest. They are usually smart, but they have difficulties understanding the people around them. Additionally, they are clumsy with their coordination and repeat certain rules and rituals in order to soothe their anxieties. There are still a lot of things I don’t know about Asperger, and I don’t want to sound as though I know them so well, if in fact I don’t really.

The scary junior said, “Okay, the old members have already introduced themselves. It’s time for the newbies.”

They were all looking at me, and it seemed logical since we were forming an imaginary circle the way we were positioned in the room, and in that imaginary circle I was standing next to Bomi, so it was only consequential for it to be my turn to introduce myself.

I started, “My name is Nam Juhee, and I am Nam Woohyun’s little sister. This is my first year at Yonsei and my major is Interior Architecture. After hearing all the reasons why the current members are in the Loser Club, I suppose I was invited because I…read American comics?” I looked at the Myungsoo guy, the one who had sent me the letter, for confirmation and he nodded. So I continued, “Uh, yeah, I read a lot of The Amazing Spider-Man or The Incredible Hulk or the comics of Captain America. Oh, but my favourite Marvel comic is Paranormal Infinities. I have a huge collection in my room, and I’m thinking of rereading them all because I have deprived myself of the comics for the past few months so I could get into Yonsei.”

When I was done with my introduction, I worried that they were going to look at me strangely for talking so much about something they weren’t interested in, but none of them did. Not even the freshman with the huge eyes. They all nodded (except of Bomi who hadn’t once made eye contact with me) and did that without thinking of wanting me to stop blabbering. In fact, they all looked like they actually understood me.

The freshman with the huge eyes carried on with the introductions. “I am Lee Sungjong, 18 years old this year. I’m currently studying Mass Communication at Yonhi Hall, and I guess I am a suitable candidate for the Loser Club because I’m quite skinny for a guy, and I also have feminine features.”

“But don’t girls like that?” asked the scary junior, looking at the Myungsoo guy for an explanation.

The latter replied, “He wanted to join us. So I gave him the ticket.”

I looked at Sungjong, and he explained himself, “I’ve heard about the Loser Club back in high school and I thought the reason of their existence was quite neat for freshmen. Also, I think I get along better with people who are not popular and necessarily in the football team.”

“What’s the reason for the existence of the Loser Club?” I wondered aloud.

The scary junior smiled at me, and he suddenly didn’t look so intimidating anymore. “The motto of this club is to give losers, or misfits, a chance of surviving the social disparities among the student body. In other words, we are aiming for social equality and we are celebrating people who aren’t interested in the things that the norm is interested in. We don’t want trendy fashionistas or K-pop fangirls and fanboys, or football players and sports fanatics. We need bookworms and intelligent people. Those who are considered uncool in society. And we want them to be strong. We want them to speak up for themselves and not allow everyone to see them as easy targets and pushovers.” He stopped short to catch his breath. “The image of an outsider sitting at a lonely table? Well, this will be prevented if you join the Loser Club!”

The way that Sungyeol dude talked, with all that confidence in his voice and the precise pronunciation of words, was amazing. I was impressed, and couldn’t help the smile threatening to stretch across my lips. He could have talked about how Aliens really existed, and I would have believed him. (Partly because I was already influenced by American comics.) He made the Loser Club sound so exciting, and I was ready to join them. But then I remembered my brother’s status at Yonsei. So I asked, “Woohyun is my brother, though. And he is in the football team. Is it still okay for me to be a member?”

The Myungsoo guy looked at me and seemed genuine when he said, “Of course, it is. Everyone is free to come and free to go. We are not a cult, even if Sungyeol sometimes makes it sound like that.”

I chuckled and finally relaxed, a heaviness I hadn’t noticed before lifting up from my chest. Those people didn’t seem so bad. In fact, they seemed like the right people to mingle with. And Woohyun did tell me to make friends as soon as I started my first year at Yonsei. With the Loser Club members, I really couldn’t do anything wrong.

Sungyeol looked at us and seemed satisfied. He said, “Since we have two new members, we should celebrate this at my family restaurant.”

“Where is it? Is it far from here?” asked Sungjong.

“No, it’s in Mapo. It’s easy to find if you get out at Hapjeong station,” answered Myungsoo.

“And besides, Loser Club Rule No. 1: we never let Loser Club members walk, sit or stand alone at university, unless it intervenes with our studies,” Sungyeol added, holding one finger up.

“That means?” I asked.

“Nothing really,” said Myungsoo, shaking his head. He received a glare from the President. “But regarding our plan to celebrate at Sungyeol’s family restaurant, it means we are going to wait for the last person to finish their class, and then go together.”

Admitted, I kind of liked the idea.

☃ ☃ ☃