Year 2300

Daegu, South Korea

The meeting room of Daegu Daily News is about as big as an average apartment sized living room. The ceiling is cracked, the walls are peeling, and the tiles are crumbling. Nasty. Somehow, me and the fifteen other staff members all manage to fit in here anyway. It’s pretty dingy, but I think I’m going to miss the weekly meetings in here when the newspaper shuts down. Doing stuff for the last time usually makes us a little sentimental, right?

Kim Junmyeon, the founder of our tiny newspaper, situates himself at the front of the room. When he turns to face us, everyone quiets down. He’s a guy with that natural type of authority, but he’s kind of shaky today. I can tell by his slight fidgeting and unstyled hair.

I’m squished near the wall today, and I have to tiptoe to see him. Being short .

“I’m sure you all know why we’ve gathered here this evening instead of in the morning like we usually do.” He starts off smoothly, but I catch the little tremble in his voice at the end of his sentence. to be the one officially breaking the bad news that everyone already knew about.

“Just get on with it, Kim. We all know Daegu Daily’s gone bankrupt and you can’t think of a way to deal with it anymore. No money, no more newspaper. We all saw this coming. No one likes old fashioned anymore. It’s year 2300. Who even knows what a physical newspaper is nowadays? Can we go home now? I’m tired.” Yerim juts her chin out and stands a little taller in her heels within our little crowd. She says everything with the attitude of someone who tries too hard to put on a brave face. Pursing her perfectly lined lips, she glances around the room and gives each one of us a subtle look of distain. I see right through her, and I glare back at her. I know she’s just as scared as the rest of us of being unemployed.

But of course, like three fourths of my colleagues nod and smile at her. Yep. Everyone loves a pretty face.

Junmyeon’s face falls. There’s a moment of tense silence, but then Minho speaks up. “So we’re all just going to quit? I’m not sure about the rest of you, but I don’t exactly have another job lined up. Are you all just stupid? We’ve barely tried anything to fix this. I don’t want to walk out tonight unemployed. I have two kids and a wife at home. Y’all know how hard it’s gonna be to break the news to them? We’ve all worked here for a good while. Good to know now that you’re all wimps.”

Minho’s getting a bit red in the face, and his eyes are so wide I can see the whites around his irises. He points his glare at Yerim, who withers a little. He’s actually a pretty scary guy sometimes, but I totally get where he’s coming from. After all, I too have someone I’m trying to support.

I glance at Junmyeon and try to catch his eye, but he doesn’t look up from the ground. Minho’s words are really sinking in now, and my heart panics and beats faster when I think about walking out of here jobless. People are beginning to talk quietly among themselves, and some individuals are edging towards the door.

“Hey! Guys!” I push myself through the mini crowd and make my way over to Minho. “He has a point, you know. I can’t, and I won’t let myself go down like this.” I’m starting to get desperate, because I can feel that a lot of others want to call it quits.

Too bad my words don’t have the same effect as Yerim’s. Most people barely spare me a glance. I seethe. I guess it would help if I was born with Yerim’s looks instead of my own. I’m just average everyday ordinary. But her? I’ve heard rumours saying that she was being scouted by a famous entertainment agency. Apparently she wants to be an actress.

Anyways.                                                     

“So what, Song? I don’t see you coming up with anything smart.” That’s Yerim again. “We just have to accept how things are now. I can’t fix this and neither can any of you. It was nice working at Daegu Daily while it lasted. I guess it’s a pity. But we all knew it wouldn’t work out, right? All of us should’ve been prepared for this from the very beginning. Nothing works out if it’s not in Seoul. Especially newspapers. Whatever. See all of you people never. I’m out.” With her bobbed hair bouncing, Yerim click clacks out of the room. I press my chapped lips together to prevent myself from letting out a nasty comeback. I can’t say I’ll miss her.

After she leaves, people start filing out after her. Most of my coworkers can’t look Minho and I in the eyes. Some of my friends give us apologetic nods. In the end, I’m left standing in the meeting room with only Minho and Junmyeon.

The silence is getting awkward, so I brush my slightly greasy side bangs out of my face and clear my throat.

“Should we go out for drinks and dinner?” I ask tentatively.

I mentally slap myself when the two guys shoot me looks of disbelief.

“I mean, so we can you know, discuss what we’re going to do next. Minho-ssi, you can bring something back for your family, and Junmyeon-ssi, you’re looking a little pale. Some food and soju could do us some good, you know? Come on, I know a place.”

I give them both a small smile. “It’ll be my treat.”

-

Baekhyun works at the restaurant a few blocks down. Minho, Junmyeon, and I get on the fancy bullet train the government has installed in every city. At least they’re trying. Only Seoul got nicely rebuilt after the last world war. I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen the photos online. It’s full of pretty skyscrapers and loaded with landing pads for people’s jets and copters. Seoul has a lightshow every night too. It’s so big and high tech, sometimes we can catch a glimpse of the lights in our sky if we climb high enough onto a pile of rubble or the roof of a building. Nice, right?

Daegu is lacking a lot. Most of the buildings are either crumbling or scattered into a hundred parts on the ground. The smog here is also pretty bad, but everyone’s used to it. We don’t have those nice machine things that purify air like they do in the nicer cities. A lot of people end up dying young from one respiratory disease or another. , but the only thing I was able to do was report about it. Oh, but there are underground shelters in case of a nuclear strike. But that’s really nothing fancy. I can’t think of a single place that isn’t equipped with those. For the second time in history, Earth is in a Cold War with the moons of Jupiter. That’s old news, though. It’s been going on for fifty years. Nothing’s happened yet, and people nowadays are used to it. They treat it like something that’s going on in the background. I’m used to it too. I mean, used to the fact that people stopped caring. Like everyone else here, I’m just living every day trying to get by.

The train reaches the restaurant within a few minutes, and I’m grateful because Minho, Junmyeon, and I stand in awkward silence for the entire ride. The doors open with a smooth whoosh, and I hastily lead my coworkers off the platform and into Blooming Day, where Baekhyun has been working ever since our senior year of high school (a long time ago).

I sit down with Minho and Junmyeon at my usual table and wave at Xiumin, who owns the place. He waves back and walks over in that way of his, with small, quick steps.

"Hwayeon-ah, are you on a blind date?” Xiumin gestures to my colleagues and gives me his signature teasing smile. Eyebrows raised and all.

I roll my eyes at him and swat at the front of his apron.

“No. I could never. I only have eyes for you.” I say dryly. “Give me my usual soup noodle dish. These guys are my coworkers. They’ll have the same thing.”

Xiumin nods and begins to head back to the kitchen, but I wave him back.

“Xiumin-ah! We’ll start with twelve bottles of soju.”

Minho and Junmyeon share a look, but I let it slide. Whatever at this point. I really have nothing to lose.

-

“Any smart ideas, Song?” Minho says gruffly. His tone is rough, but I notice that some of the tension has escaped from his shoulders. He and Junmyeon both loosen up considerably when they drink. I give myself a mental pat on the back for remembering this fact which I learned from a previous staff dinner a few months back.

“Mmmm, not really? Not yet. That’s why we came here, Minho. We’re supposed to come up with something now.” I say. “I don’t know too much about the promoting and marketing aspect of our paper, but I do know that we really need to write about something worth reporting about. Newsworthy news. people wanna read.”

 “You don’t need to be a reporter to know that.” Minho rolls his eyes at me.

I roll mine back. “What I’m saying is, we need some earthshattering bull. Something other papers don’t write about. Like you know, the war. All the well-known papers skirt around the topic. And everyone knows. It’s because they’re scared they’ll say something wrong. We all live ignorantly with the Cold War going on like static in the background. But people are bound to be curious, you know? Even I’ve wondered what’s going on out there sometimes. Those moons of Jupiter. Don’t tell me you guys haven’t heard the rumours and . About the people there. And what they’re doing. Like how they have enhanced senses and blah, blah, blah. The weird their militaries are building. If they’re really planning to nuke us. We should write about something like that.”

I pause to pay attention to my noodles and take a sip of the broth. It’s warm and savoury. It’s just right. Like always.

“So? What’s the plan? Just how are you going to find out about those things?” Minho looks awfully skeptical, and so does Junmyeon. “Your ‘earthshattering bull’ idea sounds like bull to me. It’s impossible.”

I swallow. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just the miserable day in general, but I can feel the anger rising in my chest. Why am I the only one putting out an idea? We’ve been sitting here for ages.

“Okay, then let’s hear what you have, Mr. Choi. You come up with something better. Let’s hear it.” I meet his glare across the table.

Minho clamps his mouth shut. Guess he doesn’t have anything to say.

Junmyeon takes this moment to cut in.

“Well, the company account is drained. We all know that. So we’ll have to use personal funds to go ahead with whatever we’re planning to go ahead with. And to print out copies when we get a story together. That is, if we manage to do so.” Junmyeon pauses to take a shot and adjust his tie nervously. “I know what you mean, Hwayeon. And I get it. I get your point. But Minho’s right too. It’s not really viable. And I don’t know, Hwayeon. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t such a logical move. Perhaps we should all be heading home soon. We can look for new jobs tomorrow morning.”

I place my chopsticks down a little too forcefully and the tabletop jumps.

“If I remember it right, you were the one who was ranting about how you had a family to support, Choi Minho. But I don’t see you coming up with anything smart. Fine. I sound stupid. But to me, that’s better than nothing. And you, Mr. Kim. You were Daegu Daily’s founder. You’re being pretty pathetic right now. Just like him,” I point a finger at Minho, “you aren’t helping me come up with anything either. Isn’t this your paper? Funny how you want to give up so easily. We haven’t even tried yet. I want to fix this. I have to, and I will. Yeah, the money thing is a problem. But spending some of my personal funds is a risk I believe I have to take. Actually, it’s not like I have much left anyway. I’ll probably have to borrow some from someone else. The point is, I know there isn’t another job out there for me. You all know how awful the job market is. If we don’t do anything now, we’ll be unemployed probably for the rest of our lives. I can’t have that. I won’t accept it. I have someone I need to support.” I take a moment to catch my breath and glance pointedly at Minho. “You of all people should understand this feeling.”

I don’t realize that I’m standing up until I notice people staring at me. Chen, the waiter boy, gently taps my shoulder and gestures for me to sit down as he walks by.

I take my seat swiftly and pick up my chopsticks again. “If you guys want out, then fine. I can’t force you to help me. But if you walk away, I hope you know you’re a coward. And that you should be ashamed for giving up when we haven’t even started. This is a risk I’m willing to take.”

Minho’s jaw is clenched, and Junmyeon can’t looks me in the eyes.

Without finishing their food, they both get up and leave.

-

I spot Baekhyun through the little round window on the double doors long before he comes out of the kitchen. Black fringe gleaming, and white shirt cleanly ironed, I think he is the most handsome when he’s doing what he loves the most.

After I finish my bowl of noodles (including the broth), I sit alone at the table, head down until closing time comes around. As Chen walks around and wipes the tables clean, I ask him to join me for a drink. There are still six bottles of soju left. Strangely tonight, I haven’t downed as much as I usually do. He declines.

An hour ticks by and most of the staff leave the restaurant. I help Chen and Xiumin bring my dishes in the kitchen and we wash them together in silence. They know something’s wrong, but they don’t pry.

I ask myself what I’m going to do, but deep down, I already know that I’ve made my decision hours ago at the dinner table. Sure, this is reckless, but to me, there’s no other way.

But you know, before I make a plan and figure out what to do or whatever, there’s something else I have to take care of first.

I have to tell Baekhyun.

Sounds easy, right?

Of course it’s not.

As I finish up wiping down the countertop, Baekhyun comes out of the storage room behind the kitchen carrying a box of fresh vegetables.

I put a smile on my face and rush forward to help him out.

“I got it, I got it. This is my daily workout, Hwayeon-ah.” He shoots me a playful wink. “No worries.”

“Okay.” I can’t think of what to say next, so I just watch him struggle with the heavy box for a few seconds.

After I help him put the vegetables in the fridge, I steel myself. Now or never, right?

“Baekhyun-ah, let’s have a drink together. My coworkers didn’t finish all the bottles of soju we opened.” Okay, that wasn’t what I meant to say. Whatever. I’ll go with what I have. I usher him over to the table I was sitting at and pour each of us a shot.

“What was the occasion? It’s been a long while since I’ve seen you drink.” Baekhyun has never been good at reading people. Including me, who he’s known for most of his life.

I look him right in the eyes before I tell him.

“The newspaper went bankrupt. I’m leaving for The Moons tomorrow. I need a story good enough to save my job.” I leave out the part about Minho and Junmyeon ditching me. I don’t want Baekhyun to know that I’m on my own because that’ll just make him worry more.

There’s a beat of silence before his brows furrow and his smile drops. “What are you talking about?”

I down my shot and place the glass gently on the table. I want to be as blunt as possible. Always better to rip off a band aid fast than peel it off painfully and slowly.

“You’re going to The Moons? Are you out of your mind? How are you even going to get there?” Baekhyun doesn’t touch the alcohol. “You haven’t thought this through at all, have you? Please tell me you’re just drunk.”

He doesn’t even sound pissed. Just worried. And pretty shook.

“You know my tolerance is high. Anyways. I’m serious. I’m gonna leave tomorrow. There’s nothing here for me if I don’t have a job. You know how it goes. Unemployed equals homeless in this city. I have to go. I will go. I am going.” I clench my hands together under the table. I can’t stand the expression on Baekhyun’s face because he looks so hurt. But I go through with what I’m going to say anyway. “I already decided, okay? I’m gone.”

There’s a pretty long pause as he just stares at me in shock.

So I attempt to break the tension in the only way I know how.

“Wish me a safe trip?” I force my voice to remain steady as I pour myself another shot and clink my glass with his untouched one. “Hey. Byun Baekhyun. Cheers.”  

“What the are you talking about?” He pushes the shot glass away from his side of the table. I almost jump at his tone because I actually don’t ever remember him sounding this angry at me. “What do you mean there’s nothing here for you? Are you stupid?”

Maybe it’s the soju getting to me, but I feel a tiny flare of anger in my chest. Why doesn’t he understand me? It’s already really hard for me to tell him that I’m leaving for someplace where few people come back from. But I want to take the risk, you know? In my perspective, I don’t have any other choice because I can’t think of anything else.

Before I can open my mouth, he cuts me off.

“You have me. You can work here. I’m sure Xiumin would let you. I would help you get through this. We’ve been friends forever, Song Hwayeon.” I’m frozen in my seat as I see the angry tears in Baekhyun’s eyes. “I would support you. I can’t believe you didn’t even consider that.”

I swallow. He doesn’t understand because he doesn’t know I’m doing this for him as much as I’m doing this for me. Ever since we were kids, Baekhyun wanted to open his own restaurant. Always. He loves cooking.

He doesn’t understand. Because secretly, I’ve been supporting him all this time. Only Xiumin knows about this, though. Baekhyun’s wage isn’t actually supposed to be this high. Because it’s always been me giving Xiumin money. Quietly, of course. All hush hush. I cut half of what I make every month and transfer it to Xiumin. That, plus his regular wage, is what he earns each month.

Is Xiumin happy about this? No. He’d rather I be honest with Baekhyun. But this is how I have to do things. Because if I just approached him and said I’d help out, he’d just flat out refuse me and call me crazy.

“Of course I didn’t consider it. Are you stupid? You have your own job and your own life. You need to support Minyoung too. And what about all those things you want to do? Get married. You guys have been dating for like five years, and you told me you know you guys are young but you're sure she's the one. Didn’t you tell me it was about time? To propose to her at the very least. Move to Seoul and raise a family in the future. You need to save your own time, money, and energy for that. Open your own restaurant one day. I can’t let myself drag you down like that. Did you think about this at all?” For the hundredth time tonight, my voice is going up in pitch and volume. I steel myself against his tears and give him a harsh stare. “That’s what I thought. Of course you didn’t. I’m poor. I’m desperate. I know I might never come back. But I have to do this. Don’t you get it? It’s not just about trying to save the paper. I can’t just sit by and not do anything. I’m going to go. It’s because I have both everything at stake and nothing to lose at the same time.”

“Why are you being like this?” Baekhyun’s voice cracks and a tear falls. I watch it roll down his face and land on his chef’s shirt. “You can’t say you have nothing to lose. Because you do. You have me.”

I curse myself internally for making this so awful and escalating the situation so badly.

Why am I like this?

“Because I need you to understand.” I force out the words. At this moment, I think I deserve an award for keeping my voice from shaking. I have that pre-cry throat achy feeling right now, and I know I need to wrap this up before I lose it.

“I can’t.” He says.

Of course he can’t. He doesn’t know anything. And I have to keep it that way. He has Yoo Minyoung. He has dreams, the talent to reach for them, and a chance for a different future. But things aren’t like that for me because I don’t have those types of things. I’m just me, Song Hwayeon. The type of average nobody in this city who just has to scrape by.

I’ve known for a long time that I won’t ever be able to act on my feelings for him openly. So I do what I do, you know?  Support him from under the table, I guess.

Because I truly want the best for him, someone who has stood by me since the very beginning. Out of the twenty-five years of my life, only the first five were spent without Baekhyun. He’s seen it all, from the first time I got into a fight with another kid on the playground to my first published newspaper article.  

And it doesn’t matter at all if he knows or not, because I don’t need him to. As long as he ends up being happy in the long run, I will too.

I press my lips together and clench my teeth for a moment.

“Then don’t. Just accept it.” I pause and swallow my tears. “I just wanted to let you know.”

My face doesn’t crumple until I down one more shot, sling my bag over my shoulder, turn my back, and walk out the door.