Fourth chapter

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Sincerity originated from saltpeter-scented sorrow

 

 

"If I had forty-six billion won..."

 

"...I'd have a time machine created to go back, make up for mistakes and kick my own ."

 

 

Eight months and twenty days.

 

It is the exact time that has passed since the incident with San. That night I didn't just ruin long years of friendship, I broke the usual cycle of upcoming events. Nothing has been the same since then.

 

Nearly nine endless months have gone by in which I have never stopped blaming myself for acting like an insane jerk. While it's true that my feelings are as valid as anyone else's, that doesn't excuse me from learning to deal with them on my own. Nothing, absolutely nothing gave me the right to explode the way I did. As much as I refused to accept it in that instant, San behaved as few would have done in his shoes; showing understanding to an eager to burst and holding on to his own tank of patience until I shamelessly emptied it.

 

Three whole seasons with their respective festivities were left partially behind by a poor bastard who was unable to cheer for the happiness of others. It's no use putting a backpack full of guilt in your back, because witnessing how the atmosphere in your group has been spoiled by something you did is even more painful. Although I must be grateful for the non-stop attempts of my roommates and the others to act normally. They are almost as good as I was at seventeen.

 

Birthdays were no exception either, but they did bring failed attempts. They were the few occasions when, encouraged by Jongho, I managed to find the strength to stand up to the situation and try to deal with it.

 

First it was mine and Hongjoong's birthday celebration. I always thought that having the same birth month meant nothing but advantages and sharing of expenses. However, our twenty-fourth commemoration was full of awkwardness that I tried to ignore. We organized a huge outdoor party where I surrounded myself with strangers so as not to disturb the tense waters any further. My perseverance to stay as far away from my best friends physically as possible helped to keep me from crossing paths with San. When I finished getting intimate with a stranger in the nearby public restrooms and with alcohol still in my system, I found out that he had already left.

 

Aware that I was dragging them with me into the dirtiest and most putrid hole imaginable, at least, I tried to get out of the way so they could get together without the pressure of having me in the way.

 

Jongho was the first to find out about my sneaky move.

 

"What are you trying to do?" he asked me the next morning with unbrushed hair that seemed to have been by a cow. "We barely saw you last night at the party, do you think I'm such an idiot that I don't realize what you're doing?" I knew the way the conversation would take and with a heavy hangover a lecture was the last thing I wanted to hear about. "Wooyoung, I know you're listening."

 

"My head hurts." I said hoarsely.

 

"I don't give a , man." With a jerk, he stripped me of my protective blanket to expose me. "We agreed that you'd find a way to fix this, and all I've seen in the last four weeks have been attempts to alienate yourself from the group. You don't care about us anymore?"

 

"It's not like that, Jong." I blurt out immediately, in a hurry. The idea of him jumping to a conclusion like that scared me more than having to face my own troubles. I ended up sitting down and giving in to his attempts to connect our gazes. "I just feel guilty, okay? And no one should pay for the mess I've made."

 

His expression softened for a moment, but the response he offered contained no delicacy.
 

“Then fix it." I know it's not a reproach, just one of his habits, dealing with the subject in a rough way. "I'm talking about your specific case, but it can be applied in a generalized way. We are and we have always been a group, so any fight between us will affect the rest in one way or another. That's a fact" without realizing it, I was immersed in a trance until I heard his voice again. "Remember that time they forgot to pick Yeosang up from the airport?"

 

"He didn't speak to Yunho and Mingi for a week."

 

"Exactly. Arguments are regular things between friends, sometimes they just happen. But it's up to those involved to fix them and it's up to others to try to guide them in that direction and lighten the mood to make it happen."

 

I knew he was right, but neither Yeosang's case compared to the mess I made, nor did I go so far as to beg forgiveness for my mistake.

 

Secondly, Christmas came, a time flooded with mixed feelings that my friends covered with unforgettable moments. Cinnamon cookies had already been replaced by Seonghwa's fruity cakes and Yeosang's delicious stews. Our agreement was to focus on our families during Christmas Eve and take the opportunity to welcome the New Year together on the last night of December. 

 

I'd be lying if I said the blue sequined bow tie that added a splash of color to my second-hand suit didn't take my breath away. But it was nothing more than an illusion recreated by nerves about my hidden intentions with San. This was the perfect chance to make up, apologize and beg for forgiveness. In that way, we would start the year with a new beginning and I would learn to live with the consequences of re-establishing our friendship. Even if it meant having to accept his girlfriend, marriage or whatever earth-shattering event might happen.

 

"Are you ready? The boys have already arrived," Jongho asked from the hallway of my room. I watched him through the mirror where I kept checking my perfect look. He had one eyebrow raised, a sign of how much it annoys him that it takes me so long to get ready. Although he didn't say anything, he held back from adding more pressure on my shoulders. "You'll do fine, deep down you're still friends and everything you've experienced can't be taken away from you, not even because a stupid fight."
 

"I know, but it still doesn't justify what I did," he patted me on the back and we walked out into the living room together. 

 

I looked up slowly, finding first the two folding tables surrounded by chairs of different sizes that we had set up in the afternoon. The main dishes awaited in the center, to which each guest's food contributions were added. No prior announcement was needed to be aware of their arrival because the excitement that followed could be heard through the walls.

 

"Wooyoung! You had a hard time getting out of the sheets," Mingi greeted, coming over to hug me. 

 

"Who do you take me for? Those things didn't set themselves up, you know," I replied to the joke, forcing a smile that I expected it to seem more natural before the meeting was over. 

 

But clinging to overly optimistic expectations only made the fall more shocking.

 

"What about San, is he late?" asked Jongho, trying to lend me a hand, aware that I was wondering exactly the same thing. 

 

"He just texted Mingi, he won't be able to stop by today," explained Yunho.

 

And I wavered between two opposing feelings; the one that gave me relief at not having to face a situation that made me anxious, and the one of uneasiness fueled by the possibility of San rejecting me.

 

Efforts to meet with him did not improve in posterity. Sometimes, the main cause was my weak and insecure subconscious that could not find the strength to face him. At other times, absences, unforeseen events or changes of plans interfered with our meeting. As the days went by, I began to become more and more locked into the idea that I couldn't solve it, that the cruel fate was determined to put obstacles in our way to keep us apart. And Jongho didn't have enough authority to force me to leave the house during casual hangouts with some of the guys. Hopelessness made me give up.

 

San and I also didn't exchange a single text message in all that time. I've lost count of the number of times I got to write something and delete it as soon as I finished it. The only indirect contact we share is through the group chat where I have stopped being active, however, I pay attention to every single thing he sends. For some reason, I notice him much more reserved and quiet with his personal stuff, as if he is reluctant to provide any information that is not related to the occasional stupidities or spontaneous plans.

 

As if he doesn't want to expose anything related to his private life to me.

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

 

"JUNG WOOYOUNG!"

 

The scream of my best friend rising from the depths of the apartment makes my hair stand on end. Panicking, I jump out of Seonghwa's bed and quickly look for a space to hide in. Because he won't stop until he gets to me.

 

"You know you won't be able to avoid him for long, he'll find you." Seonghwa warns rummaging through the underwear drawer. Sometimes it annoys me that he's so realistic because it doesn't help me in the least.

 

"Never mind, just keep going about your own business and don't give me away, okay," I see him nod before diving into the closet he uses to store jackets and shoes.

 

The afternoon has passed without any incident. I sneaked into my partner's room in search of relaxing company to watch him pack his tiny suitcase. For once, I'm not the one in search of conflicts, but Jongho's arrival is motivated by a disagreement of opinions that has been dragging on for days.

 

"It will be worse if you don't stand up to him, Woo. Besides, Jongho is partially right."

 

"SHHHHH!"

 

The rush of footsteps fades away, but the silence disturbs me even more because I cannot guess his position. A creak of wood warns of his presence in my room, where he takes his time to search. When he finds no clues to my whereabouts he sighs with the force of a hurricane and abandons his efforts. Then, he quickly explores the rest of the rooms while he delights us with increasingly disturbing threats. His patience lessens as do my chances of getting away with it. Finally, as I anticipate, he enters Seonghwa's room.

 

"Hwa? Tell me where that bastard is. I know he's around the house because I tripped over his damn slippers in the hallway." I manage to cover my mouth in time so as not to reveal myself, there's nothing funnier than being treated to a grumpy Jongho trying not to fall flat on his face.

 

"I don't want to know anything about your discussions, in the end you always drag me in and I don't like to have to take a stand." he says. 

 

Actually, I have never known whether to fully trust him because the first time I confessed a secret to Seonghwa it took him less than a blink of an eye to tell it to Jongho. So it is quite possible that right now he is making some body gesture revealing my position to him without me being able to visualize it.  

 

Jongho swarms around, peering into every corner, determined to find me. Until he opens wide the doors of my hiding place and grabs me by the collar of my shirt.

 

"You , stop being a coward," the vein on his forehead bulges dangerously, another indication of how little patience remains intact. If I don't measure my actions he will explode in my face. "I want to see with my own eyes how you pack your suitcase."

 

With the locker closed behind, he presses me against it and digs a hole in my chest using his index finger. This is not an advice or a warning, but an order against which I cannot reveal myself.

 

"I have no suitcases."

 

"A backpack will do as well." I open my mouth to reply a second time, but the tic taking over his eyebrow leads me to stop in my tracks. "And if you don't have one, Seonghwa will lend you his. So go right now."

 

This is a lost battle because it is not one of those competitions in which both players have an equal chances of winning. At this crossroad, Jongho and I are not on the same level, he is willing to impose his rules by force and as much as I resist to obey them, the three of us know that I will end up giving in.

 

"What part of I don't wanna to go don't you understand? I explained it to you this morning." I snort, breaking free from his grip. He can't understand it, he's not aware of how much the idea itself terrifies me, so much that every time I hear about it I want to throw up.

 

"The part where you have no choice but to do it because it's Mingi's birthday" that's his secret weapon; to make me feel guilty. Because knowing how much he's looking forward to celebrate the day of his birth surrounded by his best friends, my absence could mean an irreparable stain on his record. However, that's not the main reason Jongho wants me there.

 

"Yes, on the beach, many miles away. I can't afford it." I blurt out, hoping it will work.

 

"Of course you can. We're not staying in any hostel, we're going to Mingi's summer home, so money is not a reason."

 

Once upon a time, the offer would have made my pupils sparkle with restrained excitement. My first real vacation in a unique and beautiful place that I have only been able to visit in photographs. I had long wanted to see if the sounds of the waves are as relaxing as people said, if walking on the thin sand is like stepping on a mattress full of feathers. I want to go with them and experience it for the first time, but I'm afraid to face my ghosts and end up worsening them. I'm terrified of causing a permanent breakup that will end all of us.

 

"I... I can't, Jong."

 

My answer doesn't please him. With incredible speed he throws Seonghwa's favorite stuffed animal at me, which I barely manage to avoid. 

 

"I don't give a . You're coming because I'm sick and tired of worrying about you all the time and of your insistence on hiding in your loneliness. You will come with us and fix all this before you come back or you will be left without an apartment to live in, understood?"

 

I don't nod, but I lower my head, dejected.

 

"Well, now that you've come to an agreement..." Seonghwa faces us both for the first time, his eyes foreboding a storm. "Pick Toothless up off the ground and put him back in his place. Oh, and if you ever lay a finger on him again, I'll cut off that pretty gamer hand of yours."

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

 

Yeosang and Hongjoong parked in our neighborhood around eight o'clock in the evening. From what they explained over the chat, Mingi had taken Yunho to her second home during the morning so that they could start house preparations. That's what happens when you only visit it for several months during the summer and there is no one else to take care of the place. The rest of us crammed into Yeosang's blue Volkswagen Golf III once Jongho returned from work and took a quick shower.

 

The one we know absolutely nothing about is San. And I don't have the courage to ask about him out loud either.

 

The first hour of the trip I cling even with my toes to anything within reach, praying inwardly that our violent driver will stop giving us unnecessary braking. I don't have much in my stomach because otherwise I would have decorated the inside of the vehicle with bile. I try hard to focus my attention on the changing landscape outside and forget that I am on a roller coaster, feeling dizzy and sick with vertigo. When the sunset takes away the light and the calmness returns, I have no choice but to find comfort in my thoughts, in abstract concepts that in one way or another end up taking the form of the one person that never leaves me.

 

Maybe visualizing him in my mind will make it easier to connect our gazes later. Or maybe it won't do any good at all. What if San has changed a lot these past few months and I can't recognize him? What if he doesn't come to the trip?

 

I've pinned the limited hopes I have left on this last chance. If it doesn't work, whether it's cause for celebration or resignation, I'll give up altogether and let myself be dragged into whatever the destiny has in mind for me.

 

Mingi's residence looks like a small palace to my eyes. With a wooden base, outdoor garden and a couple of porches where you can sit and lose yourself in the views. It lacks of a private pool, but it's not necessary either with the beach just twenty meters away. It consists of a main floor headed by a large living room that joins the kitchen at the back, and a small toilet. On the second floor are our bedrooms; Mingi's room, the one belonging to his parents and another one for guests. 

 

With four double beds at our disposition, it takes us very little time to distribute them. For a moment, I fear that Jongho is trying to pull strings on my back to force me into an embarrassing situation from which I will not escape unaffected, but I am more than grateful that he is the one who takes the step of saying he wants to share a bed with me. This means that he doesn't want to hurry me in the resolution of my unfinished issues.

 

"What about San?" Yeosang asks with his cheeks puffed out with hamburger.

 

As it is almost eleven o'clock and with the lack of predisposition of the hosts to cook us something delicious, we have stopped at a fast food restaurant before arriving at the Song's house.

 

It is Mingi who answers before anyone else with an enthusiasm that can't be honest.

 

"I'm sure he'll stop by tomorrow for the celebration. San wouldn't miss my birthday party." he says with an artificial smile.

 

"He will because it's not just any party." Yunho adds, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

 

The feeling of the sand brushing against the soles of my feet far exceeds all previous expectations. It is infinitely silkier and less grotesque than that covering the asphalt on which I once walked barefoot. However, I cannot say the same for the sensation of stepping on bubbles built purely of foam. The waves drag it to the edge to leave it, but they end up hardening even though they hold nothing inside. Crushing them is something I never want to experience again because not only do they give me the shivers, but they make me look like an idiot in front of the others.

 

"Stop being a jerk and help with the preparations." Yeosang shouts, crouching down next to a circle delimited by stones of different shapes and sizes that will contain the future campfire.

 

That is, if he manages to light it, since he has been rubbing sticks on dry branches and paper like a maniac for a quarter of an hour and we still haven't seen a single spark. That's what it takes to insist on setting fire the old-fashioned way, with how easy it is to use a lighter.

 

Yunho and I look at each other sideways for a few seconds with a half smile on our faces, a conspiratorial grimace that betrays the fact that we have been assaulted with the same crazy idea. In unison, we hunch over to wet our hands and on our way back we splash salty drops on everyone we meet on the way.

 

The sun that radiates warmth is not on the horizon by the time we finish. But the blackness does not manage to swallow us up because we have ten huge torches surrounding us to keep it away. And, in the center, stands in all its natural beauty a bonfire half a meter high which wasn't ignited thanks to Yeosang's tries.

 

"If it was up to him, it would have been better waiting for next year's birthday." says Yunho with contagious laughter. The only one who keeps a frown on his face is Yeosang, who fiercely removes a piece of grilled meat from his skewer, as if trying to scare us.

 

Some of the boys have preferred to settle into the old hammocks that Mingi kept in the storage room. Only a couple of brave ones like me have chosen to enjoy the experience in its entirety, with a simple towel in between.

At the ends, inside the perimeter protected by the light, there are two folding tables and plenty of food. We may not have a birthday cake, but we do have tons of seafood given to us by the Song's neighbors, shrimp cocktails with quail eggs and mayonnaise, and a good amount of meat that we continue to grill from time to time. As usual, we serve the pork with soju.

 

The atmosphere looks like an idyllic dream that I have always wanted to immerse myself in. One of the most pleasant fantasies in my mind that I fear will end if I keep watching the flames scorching the wood to a crackle with too much energy. But I know I'm wrong because this moment is as real as the stillness settled in me. Despite having been stripped of the possibility of repairing the damage to our group, for once in a long time I am enjoying the experience and I am ready to offer them the best of me.

 

"Come on, let's make a toast," Hongjoong proposes as the bottles of alcohol begin to empty. The muscles in our throats are hurting, but that doesn't stop us from drinking. "For Mingi!"

 

"FOR MINGI!"

 

The sixth shot resists going straight down my throat, trapped between the tongue and the roof of my mouth. The sensitivity that surrounds my body is to blame for the fact that I have reached such a point of extreme discomfort and, even so, I manage to swallow the bitter liquid without spitting it out in a reflexive act onto the campfire.

 

I'm pretty drunk, but I don't intend to burn everyone.

 

On a warm night covered by a shimmering starry blanket, the endless swell breaking in the background becomes an excellent companion. Jongho has connected a pair of wireless speakers that randomly play his playlist prepared for the occasion. The party is full of moments in which I have not stopped laughing like a fool.

 

My friends are all I have, what I would like to treasure forever. The only thing I wouldn't trade even for.... 

 

"Tell me, Wooyoung, what would you do if you had forty-six billion won?"

 

Cowardice overtakes me without me expecting it and I am startled by a ghostly presence in the distance that quickens my heartbeats. The shadow approaches decisively and I look for an excuse not to accept the fact that my wild thoughts have accidentally invoked it.

 

"I hope you left something for me."

 

It is automatic how every cell in my being activates under the singing and suggestive voice of the newcomer. It is similar to a reflex action of someone who seems to have been created to exclusively react to the one he adores. The sound is still similar in tone, but his appearance has suffered small changes.

 

"SAN!"

 

Mingi is the first to get to his feet faster than his own legs. Stumbling, he reaches him and wraps both arms around his waist to lift him as high in the air as physically possible before they end up falling into the sand. My body may not remember how to return to its usual functioning, but that doesn't stop me from being delighted by the chorus of laughter.

 

A new front has just opened up before me, one that I had thought was closed, the opportunity I had been waiting for, the one that would allow me to protect them and the one I had given up for lost. However, I do not know how I should act. What I have no doubt about is that I need at least four more drinks before starting the first try. One shot for every smile from San so far.

 

Partially hidden by the campfire separating me from him, I lose myself easily in that night-colored hair he's let grow. If discomfort haunts him, I see no trace of it because he knows how to hide it well under those terrible jokes I missed so much. San went through a turning point in his twenties, when he started frequenting the gym, but the figure settled in front of me belongs to someone sculpted by the hand and fist of a God. So it is a direct attack on me that he has come to the meeting in that sleeveless white T-shirt and short jeans clinging to his thighs.

 

I barely have the will left to concentrate on what's going on around me, and he's taken all my attention.

 

"Hey, San-ah, come help me with something." Jongho asks an hour later, when most of the dishes have already been emptied.

 

His absence should relax and destress me, but the fact that he has agreed to disappear with a Jongho who has given me one of those smirks I can expect anything.

 

I vent my hysteria by plundering what's left of the white vodka so as not to return to consciousness. My intention is not to give in to the out-of-control madness, but I doubt I can survive what's left of the night and I'm still at a loss for ideas on how the hell to approach my target.

 

In despair, I join in the ridiculous dance of a Hongjoong who does not know how to coordinate his movements. He dances, kicking up huge amounts of sand in his tracks, waving his arms in the direction of the sky as if they had no bones in them. The noise of loud laughter loses all humor when some of the flying sand particles deviate from their path and mercilessly attack Yeosang's eyes. Then, his threats gain intensity, rising between voices until a delicate melody reaches us in the distance.

 

What my inebriated state initially identifies as a strange and creepy illuminated object floating in our direction, turns with proximity into a dazzling cake. Soon, we start singing the typical song to wish Mingi a happy birthday, and he claps his hands to the rhythm of the song with a grin from ear to ear.

 

We serve the cake with a bottle of Baileys and we enjoy the moment with improvised dances. I'm left wondering what, if anything, Jongho has been able to talk to San about, because he seems to have been more into getting him drunk. He has come back more giggly and less skillful.

 

With the throbbing echoing in my ears eclipsing the shouts of amusement from the others, I take one last gulp of alcohol to cheer myself up. I know I can't remain in the position of a mere spectator forever, no matter how much stepping forward is already stirring my insides in the worst way imaginable. It's risky, a mission with little chance of succeeding and many of failing, but if I don't try I'll be giving up the game like the loser I am.

 

Tired, I awkwardly make my way through the unsteady bodies of my friends to the table where San's back is turned. Nerves take their toll on me, drying my mouth and leaving traces of sweat on hands that were always known for being neat. He has not noticed my presence and I swallow with difficulty because I am three steps away from him and I do not know how to start.

 

My indecision causes him to turn around and hit me by mistake with his elbow.

 

", I'm sorry..." he begins to say until his words are lost in a trickle of voice that dies. I am the cause of his astonishment. 

 

"Can...?" my throat betrays me, so I clear it and I try again. "Can we talk?" I'm terrified of the answer he might give me, what if he doesn't forgive me? "Alone."

 

San remains motionless in his place, his gaze fixed on me. There is no way for me to know what he is thinking, in fact, I have not been able to decipher it even once so far. It's a complete mystery to me. After seconds that seem eternal, he nods and sets the glass back on the table with intentions of following me.

 

"Woo" my attempts to escape the group unnoticed fail because my friends are passionate about embarrassing me whenever possible. "Here, take this." Mingi holds out a lantern with a small candle inside.

 

As if attracting all the smiling eyes wasn't enough, a bunch of euphoric cheers chase us until we manage to go a long way. I thank the darkness for allowing me to hide in it so that the blush in my ears does not humiliate me even more.

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

 

I unconsciously move forward, digging my heels into the wet sand and allowing the sea to cover my bare feet with each comings and goings. An overwhelming knot remains in my stomach, making it difficult for me to breathe properly. Far from letting myself be carried by the swaying waves, I keep wondering if San will be able to hear my irregular breathing in the distance.

 

The walk comes to an end when we bump into the imperious structure of a sharp cliff. A pile of spiky rocks that cut the route abruptly to give way to the water. I stop about two meters away, unlike the footsteps behind me that take a little longer to stop.

 

"Here... it's okay," I decide.

 

Instead of showing agreement, San walks past me, brushing my shoulder by accident and looking for a place to sit on the sand. When I manage to react, I follow him, placing myself at a comfortable distance from him within the radius of light offered by the lantern placed between our bodies.

 

He stands with one leg bent and the other stretched out in front. If it wasn't for the fact that we are in a safe position where the sea cannot reach us, he would have been able to touch the water with the toes of one foot. Just like the day we met, his gaze is lost in the landscape; a shimmering ocean swaying lightly under the glow of the moon.

 

Just as at first I dare not stare at him, when I force myself to look up, I am unable to stop. San remains just as attractive even with the misshapen shadows of the candle projecting on his complexion.

 

"You wanted to talk to me, didn't you?" his sudden intervention makes me bounce in my seat. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

 

It is difficult to put into words what is stirring inside me, however, I am encouraged knowing that I have been able to take the most complicated step of all. Now, he is here with me and if he didn't want to know anything about me, he wouldn't have agreed to come, would he?

 

"Well... I want to apologize for being an and for all those things I said to you. They' re not what I really think," I admit in all my honesty, he doesn't even pretend to move. "I never thought you were a bad friend, San. I had... anyway, it was a bad day and I ended up venting it on you. I'm sorry about that."

 

It's half-true, but I'm hoping it will work out because I don't feel ready to deal with these unrequited feelings. I'd rather bury them and learn to live with them.

 

"That's it?" his retort makes my chest prickle. I don't understand what else does he expect from me. "You had a bad day, you vented it on me, and that's it," I nod uncertainly. "Then why didn't you apologize sooner, Wooyoung?" my name coming from him sounds nostalgic. Different. "Why wait for such a long time?"

 

Because I still haven't forgiven myself for treating you like this.

 

Because I'm afraid you'll never speak to me again.

 

Because I still have feelings for you and it's hard for me to let them go.

 

"I thought you were angry and disappointed in me. I didn't dare."

 

"It still doesn't seem like a good reason to me." he turns in my direction to admire me for a few seconds. Then he sighs and looks back to the sea. "You know? These months I've been thinking a lot about what happened and what you said."

 

Fear takes over me at this moment, because I have no doubt that he has decided to throw me out of his life and that I will not be able to do anything to stop him, because that is what I deserve. The shivering runs through my limbs mercilessly, making them tremble with exaggeration, not from cold, but from terror. Distressed, I wrap my arms around my knees and rest my chin on them, waiting for the outcome.

 

"Why on earth would someone I consider one of my best friends react like that?" instead of looking for answers, he almost seem to be thinking aloud. "We can all have a bad day or say things we don't mean. I understand that."

 

Unconsciously, I bite my lower lip. The organ in my chest is hitting the walls so hard that it will eventually rip me open.

 

"But it wasn't your case. It wasn't just that, was it, Wooyoung?" I don't get to see his expression because I bury my face between my legs, terrified.

 

Is he implying that he has come to the true conclusion on his own, or is it just a loose theory and he awaits a confirmation? The pressure is unbearable, and I don't want to hide in silence when I have little left to lose. If San rejects me, I will accept it once and for all and continue on my own.

 

"I..."  I stop and take another deep breath of air. If I want him to understand me, it's best to start from the beginning. "Ever since we met, I haven't stopped thinking about that question you asked me, San. All these years, every day."

 

As I leave my hiding place, I find a confused grimace.

 

"What question?"

 

It's funny that he doesn't remember it when it has made me reconsider my existence countless times.

 

"You asked me what I would do if I had 46 billion won, remember?" he thinks for a moment and then nods. "At that time I was not sincere. I haven't been honest with you or with the others. With no one. But I want to fix it, and I would like to start being more truthful from now on."

 

I know I have his full attention, he watches me without a trace of incomprehension, with patience.

 

"My family has always had money problems, we still do. It's... worse than it looks, I assure you," I barely pause to catch my breath again before continuing. "The first few times I wished I had a fortune to fix it, even a nice house. I've come up with so many answers to that question that I don't even remember them all anymore, but none of them seemed good enough. I know that money wouldn't change anything because the real problem is me. I'm the one who's ashamed of his situation, who's afraid of being judged by others... especially you."

 

"Why should you care for what I think, Woo? You're my friend, I don't give a about where you come from or who you used to be." he says softly. His expression is filled with empathy. "And as much as I understand what you're saying, I still can't find any connection between your situation and why you vented it to Yerim.”

 

His eyes glimmer a strong hypothesis, but he's waiting for me to deny it. 

 

"That's... the other problem I have, San, I never wanted to be just a friend to you."

 

His mouth opens in an effort to add something, but he gives up and glances away. San begins to rub his hair with that indecipherable expression that now frustrates me more than ever because I want an answer. I need to know if he is going to reject me or if he will at least allow us to remain friends.

 

The minutes go by and I start to become overly conscious of what I have just done. The sense of shame invades me to embarrass myself. I need a strategic escape that will allow me to hide out of reach of the intoxicating air coming from the one who is still by my side. Before it gets worse, I make an attempt to get up, but my quickly touches the sand again. 

 

San stops me by holding my forearm.

 

"Tell me, Wooyoung," I would be lying if this didn't remind me of the first words he said to me. "Would you pay forty-six billion won for a kiss?"

 

"What the ?" the strangeness on my face must be hilarious because he smiles broadly. "If you mean paying for the president to kiss my , then maybe."

 

My cleverness not only surrounds us both in laughter, but relieves the little remaining tension altogether. Although I want answers, at least the ease to which we have returned relaxes me. 

 

"Let me rephrase the question," he asks when we've calmed down a bit. "Would you pay forty-six billion won for a kiss from me?"

 

When I process the question I shake anxiously in my place. I don't know what the hell he's thinking or what he's trying to do.

 

"I would never force anyone to kiss me even if I had that much money."

 

"Answer me, Wooyoung. The question is very simple, isn't it? Would you pay for a kiss from me? yes or no."

 

I can't find meaning in what he is saying, but he is getting the heat to build up in my cheeks at an incredible speed because he is once again carrying that intensity that so overwhelms me. I have promised honesty and he has always been genuine with me. So I nod my head in agreement.

 

Without me realizing it, San must have started his quiet movement towards me because the reality is that he is much closer than before. The lantern illuminates his deep eyes that carry a countless number of secrets just out of my reach. Even if I try to resist, there is no force on earth capable of pulling me away from them, just as I cannot react to the touch on my cheek. He continues his advance, like a fiery flame about to scorch me, like a rough ocean wanting to swallow me up, and I want to let him do it. Even if this is nothing more than an illusion, I will be sure to remember it.

 

The instant San's lips touch mine, I'm overcome with an electric shock that completely melts my body. He does not cease in his efforts to make me react and it seems to me that it is finally his scent that succeeds in bringing me out of my trance. We immerse ourselves in a soft, leisurely exchange of wet kisses that bring with them several changes of angle. I want time to stop so that I can continue to taste him unhurriedly, until he strips me of all sensitivity.

 

He is the one who breaks the connection by the remains of saliva with his tongue while keeping his forehead pressed to mine. What I don't know is that he's not done with me yet because the pause is barely five seconds long before he attacks me a second time. On this occasion, he does it with such ferocity that I lose my balance and end up lying on the sand. I don't care, as I'm concentrating on trying to adjust to his fast and passionate pace while pouring my feelings into every touch we share. I find satisfaction in the first whimper that dies in his vocal cords and arises from our tongues intertwining. Then San's hands soon begin an upward trail that starts at my belly, under my T-shirt. And I... I hold his face between my hands to prevent him from stop kissing me.

 

"HEY, YOU! COME BACK NOW! MINGI'S GOT A SEAASHELL STUCK INTO HIS FOOT!"

 

"..." I hear him curse. And I agree with him because if there are experts in spoiling special occasions, it's our friends. 

 

"The only shell that must be on the whole ing beach... and he has to step on it."

 

San shows me a perfect set of white teeth, our still pressed torsos rise and fall trying to get back to normal.

 

"If I had..."

 

He closes the distance again, keeping me still imprisoned against the ground. And I couldn't care less about ending up with pounds of sand under my clothes. I get ready to be assaulted a third time by the sweetness of his lips, but he strays into my ear.

 

"...46 billion won..."

 

"Now you owe me 92 billion won for those two kisses I gave you" my brow immediately frowns, watching him shake the dirt off once he stands up.

 

"What the are you talking about? I hope this is a ing joke."

 

"It's not. You owe me, but since I'm a good friend, I'll give you a chance to pay me back in the years you have left to live."

 

Without warning, Choi San runs off like a lunatic, out of my reach. Still disoriented, I get up as best I can to try to catch him, stumbling over my own feet until I find my balance.

 

"Hey, don't run away! Come back!"

 

"...I'd use it so I could keep kissing San until my last breath."