이 포스팅은 쿠팡 파트너스 활동의 일환으로, 이에 따른 일정액의 수수료를 제공받습니다.
Chapter 106: Patterns of Deceit
Junho picked up a slice of Margherita pizza. The cheese stretched as he lifted it. Before taking a bite, he glanced at Minjun’s face once more, as if trying to gauge the weight of his impending words.
“What do you mean, Hyung lied?” Minjun asked, his voice cautious, like someone treading on fragile glass.
Junho didn’t eat the pizza. Instead, he placed it back on the table and reached for a napkin to wipe his hands, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying to buy time.
“The things Hyung said yesterday, about fighting until he awakened, about his soul coming out… all of that was a lie,” Junho said.
“Then what’s the truth?” Minjun asked.
Junho picked up his cola and took a few sips, as if testing his tolerance for something bitter. “Hyung was pushed out,” he said.
“Someone… pushed Hyung out?” Minjun’s face hardened.
“Hyung’s company, his agency… Hyung was there for too long. They wanted a new face, so they pushed him out, slowly and quietly,” Junho continued.
Minjun looked at Junho, taking in the details of his face under the morning sun: the shaved jaw, the neatly arranged hair, and the dark circles under his eyes, which made him appear as if he was haunted by his past.
“Then why…” Minjun started to ask.
“Why did Hyung think he left on his own? Why did he lie about it?” Junho finished Minjun’s question.
“Yeah,” Minjun replied.
Junho let out a deep sigh, as if he was expelling all the air from his lungs at once. “It was easier that way. Believing he left on his own was easier than thinking he was pushed out,” he said.
“It’s easier to be the protagonist who makes his own decisions than to be a victim,” Junho explained. “So, Hyung told himself a lie, and he repeated it, hoping it would one day become the truth.”
Minjun picked up his pizza, but he didn’t eat it. He just held it, feeling the weight of the warm cheese on his fingers.
“Is that how Hyung left?” Minjun asked.
“That’s how he lived. By lying to himself, until the lie became his truth,” Junho replied.
“And is Hyung still living like that?” Minjun asked again.
Junho smiled faintly, a smile that seemed to mock himself, or his life. “Hyung is still telling lies. He’s telling lies even now, because if he tells the truth, he might collapse,” he said.
Minjun took a bite of his pizza, chewing slowly. The taste of the cheese, the tomato sauce, and the crust all mixed together on his tongue.
“Who is Hyung looking at?” Minjun asked, still chewing.
“Huh?” Junho responded.
“You said Hyung saw me, but what is Hyung really looking at? Is he looking at me, or is he looking at himself?” Minjun asked.
That question hit Junho hard, like a physical blow. His mouth opened slightly, and his eyes wavered.
“If Hyung can’t answer, I think I already know what Hyung is looking at,” Minjun said, continuing his thought.
“Hyung is looking at himself. At his own lies, his past self, and Hyung is afraid that I’ll become like him,” Minjun stated.
Junho covered his face with his hand, his fingers pressing against his eyes. His shoulders began to shake, a tremble that was neither a laugh nor a cry.
“Hyung,” Minjun said, his voice soft.
“Stop, please,” Junho whispered from behind his hand, his voice barely audible.
“Hyung needs to see me. Hyung needs to say something that’s not a lie,” Minjun said.
Junho lowered his hand, his eyes not red from crying. But his gaze was empty, as if someone had pulled out his soul.
“What should Hyung see me as?” Junho asked.
“As a mirror,” Minjun replied.
“A mirror?” Junho repeated.
“Hyung should look at himself through me. Then, Hyung will be able to see himself. And when Hyung sees himself, he won’t be able to tell lies anymore,” Minjun explained.
Junho looked at Minjun, taking in the ordinary features of his face, 174 centimeters tall, with eyes that held something. Something that allowed him to see through Junho’s lies to the truth.
“You’ll really become an actor, a lead actor,” Junho said suddenly.
“Hyung, what…” Minjun started to say.
“As a lead actor. You have the qualifications. You can find the truth within the lies, not just pretend to be something you’re not,” Junho said.
And in that moment, all the sounds in the pizza parlor came back: the chatter of other customers, the humming of the refrigerators, and the music from the radio. Everything overlapped, filling the space between Junho and Minjun with noise.
But their silence remained. However, it was no longer a heavy silence.
It was a silence that signified change.
Minjun looked at Junho’s hand on the table, his fingers lightly tapping, as if sending a signal.
Junho lifted his gaze and met Minjun’s eyes.
“By the way,” Junho said.
“Yeah?” Minjun replied.
“You shouldn’t stay in our company. That place will ruin you, slowly and quietly, like it did to me,” Junho said.
“Where should I go, then?” Minjun asked.
Junho picked up his pizza again and took a real bite this time. He chewed and swallowed before responding.
“That’s something you need to figure out, not me,” Junho said.
“Why?” Minjun asked.
“Because lies repeat themselves. Before I tell another lie, you need to be prepared for the next one,” Junho explained.
Minjun’s hand rose, and he took a sip of his cola, the bubbling liquid a stark contrast to the heaviness in his heart.
And then, his phone rang.
It was Minjun’s phone.
The sound filled the space, like an alarm, a warning of something about to change.
Minjun looked at the screen, his heart racing. The number was unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar.
“Should I answer it?” Minjun asked, looking at Junho.
Junho’s expression was serious, as if he knew the gravity of this moment.
Minjun’s finger moved on its own, pressing the answer button.
“Hello?” Minjun said, his voice barely above a whisper.
A woman’s voice came through the speaker, her age sounding around 25 or 26.
“Minjun? You don’t recognize me?” she asked.
Minjun’s brain froze. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
“Who is this?” Minjun managed to ask, his voice almost inaudible.
“It’s me, Uri,” the voice said.
Time seemed to stop for Minjun. Everything around him became silent, as if the world had paused, waiting for his next move.
“Uri…?” Minjun whispered, his voice trembling.
The voice on the other end continued, “I’ve come back. To Korea.”
Minjun’s world spun again, like it had been flipped upside down. Everything was shaking, as if he was standing on unstable ground.
“Uri… where are you now?” Minjun asked, his voice still barely audible.
The voice replied, “I’m near Gangnam Station. In a cafe. Can you come?”
That question weighed heavily on Minjun’s chest. Could he really go? Could he face this part of his past?
Junho stood beside him, watching Minjun’s every move, his expression a mix of concern and something deeper, like a warning or a prediction.
“… Yeah, I’m on my way,” Minjun said, his voice not his own.
“Really? I’m sorry. I suddenly… I missed you so much. I wanted to see you,” the voice said, emotion overflowing.
Minjun ended the call, and his entire body seemed to shudder, like a puppet cut from its strings.
“Minjun,” Junho said, placing a hand on Minjun’s shoulder. The weight of that hand was both oppressive and supportive.
“I…” Minjun started to say.
“You need to go. And find your own way. Not Hyung’s way. Don’t repeat Hyung’s mistakes,” Junho advised, his voice calm but filled with a deep sadness.
Minjun slowly stood up, his legs unsteady. It was as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into an unknown abyss.
Junho’s hand remained on his shoulder, a steady presence.
“I’ll go,” Minjun said, his voice firmer now.
And with that, Minjun walked away, into a future that was as uncertain as the past he was about to face.
[END OF CHAPTER 106]