Chapter 162

“Please go away.”

It was a long time before Jin Seo-hye stopped crying. After weeping as if she had turned all the moisture in her body into tears, Jin Seo-hye stared at me for a while after she had stopped, with a complex expression that was resentful but also held something deeper.

In the end, Jin Seo-hye couldn’t bring herself to hit me until the very end. Holding her slightly bleeding fist, she soon delivered her decree to me.

I followed her words without further complaint. There was no reason for me to be here anymore, and it was better for both sides. I felt sympathy for Jin Seo-hye, but that didn’t mean I was someone who had to take responsibility for her or anything like that.

Life was always a path walked alone.

Alone, I would need to find my way through….

I glanced at Jin Seo-hye for a moment, lowered my head, and silently said goodbye as if we wouldn’t meet again.

And then,

A little while later, I returned to Jin Seo-hye because I didn’t know how to open the door.

“…How do I open this door?”

“…Just press the button and turn it.”

Jin Seo-hye looked at me as if I were pathetic and opened her mouth.

…I didn’t want to end things like this, looking foolish.

Still, maybe,

this kind of ending wasn’t so bad.

~

On the way home, I sat on the subway, blankly staring at the people without any thoughts. It wasn’t even observation. I just… looked at what was in front of me. Not thinking was not an easy task. It was paradoxical, but no one could think as they liked.

So this felt like an activity—or rather, a non-activity—of making my thoughts flow freely.

The encounter with Jin Seo-hye ended better than I had expected, and there was no need to think about it further. It was time to give my mind a brief rest.

Although it was spring, it was still quite chilly, and while I didn’t need a heavy coat, I could use a light jacket. Yet, it wasn’t cold enough for a scarf, so hiding my head had become a challenge. I still wore a white hat, but I hadn’t taken care of my hair recently, and it had grown longer than I had imagined.

Moreover, it was a cramped space like the subway. I couldn’t completely conceal my identity in a place where there were people right next to me and in front of me. I felt eyes glancing at me, but now I didn’t really care; I just let them look.

Though it was awkward to say it myself, I was relatively well-known. There was the issue with being a TS syndrome patient, and I was also the author of a book that had sold quite a bit recently (though Muk Ha-neul had quickly overshadowed it). I didn’t want to admit it, but I was also the protagonist of a famous video on the internet.

Even though I didn’t go out often, it wasn’t uncommon to feel those gazes each time I did.

Still, such occurrences weren’t frequently encountered.

As I got off the subway and headed outside, I heard a small voice calling from behind.

“Um, excuse me.”

When I turned around, there stood a well-dressed woman with an attractive face. Though the suit naturally reminded me of Ham Yejin, her demeanor was quite different. She looked very nervous.

“Is it… is it true that you are the writer Seol-guk?”

Hmm… It was a question I couldn’t deny given her appearance, and denying it would have been meaningless. I didn’t know her intentions in starting the conversation, but she didn’t seem to harbor any malice, so I decided to respond willingly.

“Yes.”

“Oh, hello! I… I’m a fan, and, um, I’m sorry for approaching you out of the blue. But… I wanted to say something to you.”

A fan… of mine?

While I hadn’t never experienced it before, it had felt like the first time in a very long while, especially after becoming who I was now and after all the disclosures and scandals. There had been some cases involving Han-bom, but those didn’t count as typical.

“Ah… thank you.”

For a moment, I briefly considered the shocking possibility that she might be a fan of my internet videos, but thankfully, it didn’t seem that way.

“I’ve read all of your books. If I had my book with me now, I would have asked for a signature. Ah, I’m sorry. Talking like this must be burdensome for you…”

“Oh no, it’s alright. Thank you for the kind words. It couldn’t have been easy for a woman to appreciate my writings.”

Considering my past reputation, it was certainly hard to imagine that I would have many female fans. While “Pogu” or my short story collections might have had female readers, “The Boy’s Womb” was filled with the clear frustrations I had at that time.

“In fact… I didn’t read your debut work, ‘The Boy’s Womb’ first.”

“Oh, so your order was different.”

“I read ‘Pogu’ first. And… it was so sad that I ended up reading ‘The Boy’s Womb’ too, and it made me even sadder. I could just feel how much pain the girl and the boy were in… Yet, the difference in the endings was so bright… I struggle with words, but my heart was filled with so much emotion. It was really, really comforting… um, I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.”

“There’s no way I’d be uncomfortable listening to a reader’s impressions.”

Of course, there were times when it could be uncomfortable, but it was something a writer had to endure. And in this instance, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Considering how many hostile remarks I had received about misogyny, this kind of feedback was practically a dream come true for a writer.

“To be honest, I think I wasn’t very mature when I wrote ‘The Boy’s Womb.’ So I’m glad to hear such things.”

“Yes… Ah, by the way, I really enjoyed the story. I’ll be cheering for you!”

“Oh, thank you.”

The anonymous woman who claimed to be my fan left those words and disappeared. It seemed she was in a hurry, moving quickly.

I had heard that my reputation had improved quite a bit, but this was the first time I felt it in such a tangible way. So, there were people who viewed me that way.

Brilliant. It was the first time I received such praise. Someone could think of things like that. It was a chance encounter, but those words stirred the surface of my heart.

My life might not be as dark as I had thought. Those two stories were ultimately my life, and my life might also provide consolation to someone else. That wasn’t… bad.

No,

it was good.

I had ended “The Boy’s Womb” with mockery and scorn, self-hatred and loathing, regret and sorrow. But at the very end of “Pogu,” I left a sliver of hope. It was small but undeniable hope. If that hope had been conveyed to someone, then that… wasn’t bad.

No,

it was good.

That was good.

It wasn’t just acceptable; it was good.

I… was good.

Yeah, that’s right.

That felt great.

It was good.

~

“Are you bragging?”

When I told Park Chan-wook about this story a few days later, that was his response.

“Yeah, I’m bragging.”

“Wow, how nice. Some people are always getting trashed, and here you are feeling good.”

“Well, try doing better.”

“Hey! Someone disconnect this Internet!”

“Am I Han-bom’s parent?”

Perhaps my being in a good mood was something Park Chan-wook found unpleasant. He was clearly annoying while yelling at Han-bom, who had gone to the bathroom, but I didn’t feel bad about it. In fact, it was fun to tease him because he was reacting so positively.

“I can brag a little. Is that such an issue? You shouldn’t be so petty. That’s advice from your elder.”

“You’re just being ridiculous…”

“Do you want a punch?”

“Even if you hit me, it won’t hurt.”

Using facts in a cowardly fashion. In reality, even if I hit Park Chan-wook with all my might, he was someone who wouldn’t show any signs of it at all. Not pretending to be tough either; he truly wouldn’t feel it.

“And, if anyone hears you brag three times in a row, they’re going to get annoyed.”

“Han-bom doesn’t get annoyed.”

“Well, she’s… unusual?”

“What’s unusual about that!”

Hmm, just then Han-bom happened to come out of the bathroom and heard us talking. Congratulations, Park Chan-wook. You’ll have to pamper her for the next week.

“Your face is unusual.”

“Hehe, told you so?”

It wasn’t a week, but 7 seconds, damn it.

If only I could kick him out of my house, but unfortunately, this place wasn’t my home but Han-bom’s, so I couldn’t do that. I could just leave, but I had been in a pretty good mood for the last few days, so I didn’t find it that annoying.

Everything was going well, and there was nothing particularly troubling at all.

It seemed Muk Ha-neul couldn’t simply sit back and let things be. She released a rebuttal to the interview. Since it was an inherently nonsensical story to begin with, the backlash was strong, and it only served to worsen the already poor image of the author.

Of course, that author didn’t give the interview, but due to the ongoing conflict, suspicion naturally flowed toward her. The identity of the perpetrator hadn’t been disclosed to the public either, and the author’s activities had ceased right then, which didn’t help.

It seemed the person who had given the interview was one of Muk Ha-neul’s motivations. Muk Ha-neul declared she would sue, and even the journalist who had given the interview raised the white flag and couldn’t hold out any longer. That person eventually confessed and issued an apology.

Contrary to the expectations that it would go to the end, Muk Ha-neul withdrew the lawsuit, saying that was enough. It was a merciful choice, though it didn’t seem very wise. It was a decision typical of Muk Ha-neul. In reality, it seemed like she didn’t want to escalate things further since a drama adaptation contract was already in place.

As for the perpetrator’s motive, it seemed that this person was a struggling writer who couldn’t even debut and did it out of jealousy towards his thriving motivation. At any rate, confessing before they were completely exposed was certainly a wise choice. While it couldn’t be said that giving such an interview was wise to begin with, at least.

By the way, Muk Ha-neul didn’t share detailed information with me, and this was something Senior Su-Young revealed later as a service, not even having been asked.

The perpetrator was male, had a very good evaluation within the department, and wrote exceptionally well. He had also confessed to Muk Ha-neul. Senior Su-Young even added the unnecessary detail that Muk Ha-neul remembered this.

It seemed Muk Ha-neul’s motivation for the crime was perhaps… more than just jealousy, but I didn’t want to delve into what I didn’t know. It didn’t concern me. Perhaps things would have turned out differently had I known at the time.

Regardless, with the most worrying matter resolved well, there was no longer anything to keep me bound. It was an overwhelming sense of freedom. I had to work on my next project, but the book had sold better than expected, so there were no immediate concerns.

Even though it sold well, it was just enough for me to get by, and I didn’t indulge myself.

“So, are you really struggling these days? Getting trashed that much?”

“There’s the plagiarism issue, but I think the main thing is that I’m being criticized for not being entertaining. It’s not just that it’s not good; they say, ‘It starts fun, but as soon as it goes paid, it just falls apart.’”

“You need to write better.”

“Do you want a beating?”

“No.”

Having been unjustly accused of plagiarism and criticized for being boring wasn’t easy for a writer’s mental health. I hadn’t read Park Chan-wook’s novels, but anyway, since he was a successful author, he must have felt the pressure of expectations.

“Wait? You’re not really feeling wronged, are you?”

“Huh?”

“This is plagiarism, you know.”

…?

“What are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

“What are you saying? That this is plagiarism?”