Chapter Text
The beach was swelteringly hot. Lukewarm waves rolled in and the white sand was grossly hot to touch. Beomgyu sat on top of a little mat made of a folded up box. He had been doing this for the tenth day in a row. The direct sunlight struck his bare skin with not an inch of shade to protect him. Every time the sun hit his skin, the tops of his hands and feet would burn red.
Oftentimes, the beach would be filled from one end to the other with tourists coming and going. Most of them wore large brimmed hats & held a coconut with a straw sticking out of it in their hand. The coconut was the telling mark of a tourist. They are the only people who would pay money for something that is basically plain water.
“Is this yours?”
Beomgyu turned towards the hands that tapped his shoulder. An old man covered in freckles stood there with a kind look on his face. His eyes blue, holding a coconut in his hand, of course. Beomgyu tried to return the kind look back to the old man with a slight smile. To Beomgyu’s standoffish smile, the old man pointed down at the ground. Beomgyu’s eyebrows gradually furrowed as it followed the man's finger. The stack of bills he had put in his pocket were tumbling around on the sand.
“........”
His reaction ended there. Beomgyu only grabbed the few bills that he could still reach while sitting down. He was tired. He decided whatever happens, happens. The startled old man tried to speak to him again. This time, rather than returning a smile, Beomgyu looked at him with annoyed eyes. The top of his head was pounding from being struck by direct sun.
The old man who found Beomgyu’s money, just to be ignored, had a frazzled look on his face. The people he was with adopted the same expression. They were loudly discussing amongst each other about what happened which created some commotion around them. The coconut boys followed the commotion. They heard about money and ran around picking up loose bills with a wild look in their eyes. Beomgyu, who had fallen asleep and woke up to the commotion, shielded his face from the sun with his hands. He intensely looked off to the far end of the beach, got up and shook the sand off of him. Someone was walking out of the ocean. It was a man. A man facing away from the sun had a surfboard clutched in between his arms. The way he shook the water off of him gleamed with experience. Beomgyu hurried towards him. As he was about to run towards the man, he stepped on the folded bottom of his pants and nearly tripped. He ended up striking a silly pose like he was about to fall. As he got up, irritated, he noticed a coconut boy was holding onto his legs. Honestly, he was too small to even call a boy, “a baby” would’ve been more fitting. The baby, who seems to have missed out on the loose bills on the beach, reached towards Beomgyu’s pockets. Beomgyu pushed the baby away, scowling. The baby returned to hang onto his legs again. This has happened multiple times before. It wasn’t surprising. It’s just how it is when you grow up on the street. You have to learn how to steal and swindle in order to survive, regardless of how old or young your victim.
Beomgyu grabbed the rest of his money, tossed it towards the boy and groaned in annoyance. He shooed the boy away. The other coconut boys who were watching screamed in excitement and ran in for their share. There was dirt flying up creating a dusty smog in the air and people yelling. They were fighting tooth and nail for money they won’t even be able to use. Disheveled Beomgyu sprinted towards the surfer again. The Korean currency from thousands of miles away was tumbling around the shore of the Caribbean. A strange sight, truly.
-
“Can you please kill me?”
This was their first encounter
“Excuse me?”
It was the phase in the year where the dry season gets replaced by the wet season. A man who was given the fortune of suicide looked up and down.
“Who are you?”
‘Choi Beomgyu’
“Do you even know who I am?”
‘Why would I have approached you if I didn't.’ Beomgyu said in his mind. He actually knew the man well. He knew everything about this dude from his name to his nationality. Beomgyu handed him something. It was a poster of a wanted criminal. It was all in Spanish so it was unreadable but the important bits were translated into English in small text.
Buda, Early 20s, Korean, Drug Trafficking, Armed.
In other words, it said “Beware of this dangerous piece of shit”. The man’s eyes that were skimming through the poster stopped at one spot. It was the portion that had the reward amount along with a giant photo of his face.
“I told them not to use this damn picture.”
The man complained with the snatched poster in his hands. “This doesn’t even look like me.” The man was right. He looked much better in person to Beomgyu as well. So good looking that it would be a shame for him to just live and die as a piece of shit. The man who got done staring at himself for a long time finally looked up.
“Where did you get this?”
“I found it somewhere”
“I’m asking where”
“At the border”
Beomgyu surprised himself with the answer. There was not an ounce of truth in that. He did not pick it up, it was rather given to him and not even at the border, but on the smuggling ship. Suspicious eyes began inspecting Beomgyu all over. Beomgyu was nervous. He was just born anxious but he also couldn’t think of more lies to back himself up. Thankfully, the other guy changed the subject. He stared at Beomgyu for a while then his facial expression softened.
“So what then, you want to throw me in jail?”
“That’s not it”
The man who was at a loss for words pointed towards the road.
“Do you see the cop way over there?”
“.......”
“Hand this to him, tell him that you found a bad guy and ask him to take me away. Okay?”
Directly across the man's fingertips, there really was a cop. He was in uniform and armed. Beomgyu stood silently and just looked at the man. For a piece of shit, he sure smiled like a privileged gentleman.
“What? I told you to report me.”
The man teasingly said to Beomgyu, who was at a loss for words. His tone was unexpectedly friendly. He was also leisurely folding something out of the wanted poster. ‘Huh?’ Before Beomgyu knew it, he threw the poster he had folded up. It was a plane. Not a proper plane but a paper plane with a piece of shit’s face plastered on it flew through the hot air and landed. The landing spot was at the feet of the cop. The cop felt the plane's movement near him, looked around then spotted the sender. Unexpectedly, the cop waved his hand. The man waved back. Perhaps this Surfer is a cop too. Or the cop might be the piece of shit’s friend. Beomgyu figured it’s likely the latter. Whether it’s in Korea or here, it’s the authority figures who were the problem. The man who finished greeting the cop looked back at Beomgyu.
“Got it? Be sure to report me.”
This time the man laughed while squinting his eyes, it was a smile that would be hard to imitate. Refreshing yet deadly. The man who was just about to leave began tapping on Beomgyu’s shoulder. It was unclear if it was supposed to be out of support or what, but it felt kind of rude. Beomgyu shook his shoulder off & shyly pushed the man's hand back. “Oh, you got some attitude huh?”. Beomgyu could hear the man mutter to himself while humming. Before Beomgyu had the chance to retort, the man walked past Beomgyu.
“Who said I was going to report you?”
It was a word he would regret immediately upon saying it, but he said it anyway. It would’ve felt like he came all the way here for nothing if he held it back. The man who was briskly leaving stopped in his tracks. “What?” His eyes when he looked back at him were different from earlier.
“I asked you to kill me, when did I say I wanted to report you?”
Beomgyu blurted out more words like this was his only chance. The man blinked his squinted eyes repeatedly. As if saying ‘what the hell is wrong with this guy?’ The man began walking back to Beomgyu again but with more aggression, as if ready to take a swing at him.
“You’re talking to me too casually, don’t you think?”
The man raised an eyebrow. Then he got close enough they could hear each other’s breaths. The man was quite taller than what Beomgyu expected. A shadow covered over Beomgyu’s face. ‘But he wasn’t using honorifics to me either’. Beomgyu swallowed the words he wanted to say down along with his spit. Instead, he responded while letting out a sigh.
“..... Will you kill me if I use honorifics when speaking to you?”
To be honest, he was scared. He was fine with death but the idea of getting beat up was frightening. The man who was shocked into silence broke out into genuine laughter. “You’re pretty cute”, the man said. Beomgyu bit down on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know why being called cute made him feel so nervous all of the sudden. A man like that saying those words made it sound foreign. After gazing at Beomgyu for a while, the man reached into his back pocket. Perhaps he was just born chill, but he moved more slowly and leisurely than most people. Then the man raised his arms in the air, while maintaining eye contact with Beomgyu. Suddenly it sounded like the sky was being torn apart. Beomgyu’s body crouched in defense. It was a gun. He definitely shot off a gun. The tourists nearby were bewildered.
“Why are you so fearless with such a cute face like that?”
The man said while shaking off the arm that flew back from the recoil.
“You keep nagging me to kill you”
Beomgyu’s eyes blinked rapidly. From his peripherals he could see the man reloading his gun.
“Should we go to the beach together today?”
Unsure why but everything sounded muffled.
“Want me to tie a boulder to your feet and throw you in?”
That’s when Beomgyu realized he was covering his ears. A burnt smell filled the air. Was it a real bullet or a fake airsoft one? Either way, it was certain this was a crazy bastard. One of the few people who could possibly send the cute Beomgyu to the grave. Through his covered ears he could hear a couple more muffled words from the man. “If you really want to fuckin die, bring a friend who can dispose of your body. Or bring your mom who could pay the fee for the service.”
Hearing that, the top of Beomgyu's head got hot. He didn’t have a mom who could come with him nor a friend to dispose of his body. He’s never paid for a service like this before. If he did, he wouldn’t be here still wanting to die. Beomgyu held his ear lobes and thought. He did have enough to pay for the service. He did not, however, have enough confidence to kill himself twice. It was more horrific than when he cut his finger on his guitar string. While looking around he found the bullet near his feet. This crazy bastard who just called him cute. No matter how cute he finds someone, he must have no problem shooting and killing them. Beomgyu, who had been quiet for a while, looked up. He saw the backside of the man with the gun tucked in the holster. He was jaywalking across the road. Beomgyu hesitated for a second then took off after him. The figure of the man ahead of him kept getting smaller and smaller. Slowly, Beomgyu’s steps got faster and faster. It soon turned into a full on sprint. He decided to follow Buda. He was sure this was a bastard that would kill him if he paid him enough.
June
That was the first time they met.
-
Buda. Bu-da. That’s what everyone called Yeonjun by. The Spanish pronunciation of the word for the infamous being who reached nirvana under the Banyan tree. But they were not even in Spain. Not Spain but somewhere where everyone speaks Spanish. Cuba. A place where they drink Mojitos like water. Due to it being cheaper than the price of milk, lots of kids also drank the popular mixture of lemon juice and mint.
Yeonjun made his living selling drugs on an island in the south of the Caribbean. Mainly marijuana. He sold the weed smuggled from Havana at 30 pesos per gram. It was 10 times the price of milk and 100 times the price of mojitos. Peeling mangos all day under the hot sun yielded merely 5 pesos. Making what people in their 40s make in one day is how Yeonjun spent his 20s.
Sometimes Yeonjun attended mass at the cathedral. He also paid tithes. In a country where 10 out of 11 people are catholic, he was a strange Asian man referred to as Buda. He didn’t physically resemble Buddha. Cubans don’t really care what Buddha looks like.
Until a year ago, Yeonjun was called “puta” the Spanish word for “bitch”, due to his father being responsible for the spread of marijuana in the town. Since his father was called a bitch, his offspring automatically became a bitch to them too. When Yeonjun found out, he beat the shit out of one of the guys who called him that. He made sure to pick out the biggest guy and beat him into a bloody pulp to send a clear message. The town market was eerily silent for days. The store owners insisted they were not calling him a bitch, but Buda. It was the very moment a bitch transformed into Buddha.
Perhaps as the price of becoming a living Buddha, he had to arrange a large funeral. His father was stabbed to death. He simply hired a handyman to bury his father near the Rocky Mountains and sneakily left the funeral mass early. Since then, Yeonjun tracked down all of his fathers partners and paid them all a visit. From their sales, he meticulously calculated his fathers share and made sure they paid it out to him in full. It was around 7000 pesos. Yeonjun used it all to purchase drugs. This time, it was not on marijuana. It was on cocaine. The culprit in the death of the retired soccer player Diego Maradona. Coincidentally, Maradona received his addiction treatment in Cuba. While the legendary soccer player was screaming for the end of the Cocaine epidemic, Buda was screaming Free Cocaine. He was really distributing them out for free. Thanks to that, his name ended up on the wanted criminals list. Just his name though. Even after being handcuffed, he continued to escape jail multiple times. It was only possible because even the officer who made the wanted poster was hooked on Yeonjun’s supply.
He did not start charging for the cocaine until around two months after the initial charitable distribution. It was 3 times the cost of marijuana. In other words, 30 times the cost of milk and 300 times the cost of mojitos. The addicted Cubans gave up their mango peeling. They sold their tools, their home then even their own children. The households that were destroyed by this were more than what you can count on two hands. He once again began being referred to as a bitch. He strangely didn’t mind it much. All he had to do was not give them any reaction. Yeonjun also had connections within the police department. Being the only supplier of cocaine in his area. The more cocaine he sold, the more wanted posters of his got taken down. After a while, they just stopped printing them altogether. Yeonjun found that fascinating.
“Can you please kill me?”
‘What did this man come here for and-
“Who are you?”
‘How did he find this poster?’
Yeonjun studied the poster. It didn’t have much wear and tear. Meaning it was one of the most recent prints which would still be several months old. He moved onto the photos. He became irritated as soon as he saw it. A mugshot where he looks like a dummy with a few missing screws.
“Where did you find this?”
The answer that followed was a surprising one. They said it was found at the border. Yeonjun looked up and down at the person before him. His thin body was so brittle that it was pitiful and though he did not avoid eye contact, he was biting his lips a ton. He was not good at lying. He did know how to lie but not convincingly. He had too much of a soft and youthful glow to him. There was no need for Yeonjun to concern himself too long with this one. Maybe in the next life. But in this life there was no more need to be involved with him, that was the end.
“Did I steal any money from you?”
Maybe that wasn’t the end.
“No”
“Then are you interested in me? Are you a stalker?”
Forget interest, the only thing that returned was an arrogant response.
“You’re not really my type. All you need to do is kill me”
‘This is some bullshit’. As if they’d been reincarnated together, their paths continued to cross. They hadn’t even exchanged their full names. Even the word ‘stranger’ was too intimate to define the two. For context, someone following you around for a week asking you to kill them, would drive anyone crazy. Thanks to the weirdo, this year's surfing plans were all ruined. As the wet season began, it became harder to ride the waves. He was planning on just surfing like crazy for a week before the wet season. During Yeonjun’s attempts to enjoy this innocent hobby, this weirdo appeared every time to cause problems. Beomgyu would pick a spot to sit on the sand and run up to him every time he got out of the water. Yeonjun tried to scream and curse at him already. But that naive face seemed completely unfazed. It would’ve been a good justification for losing your damn mind.
Yeonjun sprinted across the beach clutching his surfboard. Expectedly, Beomgyu followed him. It had been 10 days. Today, Beomgyu looked dusty as if he’d been rolling around on the sand all day.
They normally parted ways at the very end of the beach. In front of Yeonjun’s car. An old ford that was missing a license plate. It had more mileage on it than its owner. Yeonjun’s designated spot was right under the burnt palm tree. Illegal parking. Yeonjun pressed on his gas, ignoring the Beomgyu trying to catch up to him. The blood-colored car was about to zoom down the ash toned road. That’s what it did until yesterday.
“The hell's wrong with this?”
Something was off today. The car began shaking when he turned the key and coughed out pathetic sputters. He tried over and over but it didn’t start. The car seat was hot from the sun. The air was tight. He was pissed the fuck off. That’s the only way to describe how he felt. Yeonjun kicked his feet in frustration then smacked his steering wheel. ‘Wow I’m gonna lose it’. The car horn honked loud and short. A dust cloud formed behind the wheels that spun out. From the back mirror, he could see Beomgyu’s face in the distance. His eyebrows were furrowed, fanning away the dust from his face. Yeonjun kicked his door open and stepped out. Beomgyu quickly hid his hands. When he swallowed his spit, it tasted like sand. Yeonjun grabbed the surfboard off of his car then turned to look at Beomgyu.
“…….”
He was too exhausted to get mad. He just walked off without a word. Beomgyu’s footsteps following him were strangely more careful than before. He was following too blatantly to call it “tailing”. For Beomgyu it was the first day he got to leave the beach. He slept and ate at the beach for the last ten days. They walked while maintaining distance from each other. Here and there, Yeonjun would stop, turn around, hurl some curse words then continue walking. Where they were going, how long they were gonna be followed; neither had any idea.
Yeonjun’s destination was quite a distance from the beach. You couldn’t see the ocean even if you stuck your head out as far as you could & you could only get around by squeezing yourself through tight alleyways between buildings. Beomgyu became more discouraged the longer he followed Yeonjun. Before he knew it, all he could hear was fast spoken Spanish. The scent of some kind of dried fruit filled the air. The butcher shop owner touched the meat with his bare hands. There were many people who were wearing fake polo brand shirts. Every time they walked past, it reeked of smelly grass. Beomgyu did not know that was the smell of marijuana. He didn’t even know what marijuana was. Yeonjun would occasionally exchange greetings with sketchy looking groups of men. The majority of them were enthusiastically smoking a thin and white cigarette. The state-owned tobacco agency created a new brand of “Cigarettes for Women” and that crowd was smoking them while claiming they’ve essentially quit smoking. The sketchy men pointed towards Beomgyu with their chins. They seemed to be asking who he was. Before he knew it, Beomgyu was hiding behind Yeonjun. Yeonjun just shrugged.
It wasn’t until they approached a new area that Yeonjun stopped in his tracks. It was at the front gate of a home that had green paint peeling off of it. Beomgyu got on his knees. The bottom of his feet hurt, most likely from blisters. Makes sense considering he walked all the way from the end of the beach to the end of the alleyway.
After kicking the gate open with his feet, Yeonjun went inside. All you could see from peeking between the gate bars was a tiny, dinky little building with a cement yard. Not a rare sight in any country-side town. Beomgyu peeked his head a little further. He was curious to see what kind of place a person like Yeonjun would live in. At that moment, the gate made a loud noise and slammed shut. Beomgyu, who had let his guard down, jumped from being startled. It meant ‘I won't stop you from following me but I have no intention of letting you in’. Maybe it was because his body tensed up suddenly, Beomgyu’s pinky toe began hurting. The toenail he had hurt the other day had dried blood all around it and was nearly falling off. Beomgyu turned to look behind him. He had no confidence to walk all the way back to where he came from. He couldn’t stand the smell of that dried fruit. The men who were greeting Yeonjun also looked scary. He couldn’t live nor die by himself. At that moment, life felt like a toenail that was bound to be torn off.
Yeonjun fell onto his bed as soon as he got inside. His body ached all over from carrying that surfboard all day. The sun was setting outside of the window. The sunset laid onto his long, out-stretched legs. Yeonjun put his hands together and stayed still. Being in that pose reminded him of his father frequently. It was the position he was in before being buried after the stabbing. Normally Yeonjun avoided that pose because it felt like bad luck, but found himself in it every time he was exhausted. He fell asleep like this often and every time he did, he had a fucked up dream. A dream where he died like his damn father. Yeonjun fought his sleep by forcing his eyes open. He reached out to the side of his bed and grabbed the cigarette pack. It only had one more inside it.
When you think about it, Yeonjun did not learn how to smoke correctly. Because he learned it before finishing his public education in Korea, he could not smoke Cuban cigarettes. Fortunately for him, there was someone who could bring him the kind he smokes. Park Dong-Jae. He was a scumbag that dealt drugs on the side. Once a month, Yeonjun would buy American cocaine and Korean cigarettes from him. He sold the cocaine to others and smoked the cigarettes alone. The two met up on the last day of every month. For this month, that would be tomorrow.
After exhaling the last of the smoke, Yeonjun twisted the cigarette onto his desk to put it out. He must’ve been doing this for a long time to accumulate such a large gravesite of cigarettes and ash. Yeonjun sent Park Dong-Jae a message while laying down. In the age of smartphones coming with 40 million pixels, Yeonjun used a flip phone. He’s also never changed his ringtone. It was a 16-harmony tune of the famous classical song, Love’s Greeting.
When he closed his phone, he saw a gecko crawling across his ceiling. Every corner was covered with mold. Some would even say that’s not anywhere a human should live. But Yeonjun also never considered this place his home. It didn’t feel comforting enough to call home, but too lived-in to call it a dorm. He had quite a bit of things, but an ashtray was not one of them. He’d been living this way for several years now.
When he opened his eyes, it was pitch black all around him. He had no clue how he even fell asleep. Yeonjun began reaching around the side of his bed. He grabbed an empty cigarette pack. He then remembered smoking the last one. His eyes felt hot from tiredness. The sound of rain was slapping against his ear walls. The sound of rain. Yeonjun suddenly paused in the middle of getting up. He could feel the soggy air every time he took a breath. For a moment, he was standing rather strangely that was neither standing or sitting.
“Ah….. That dumb asshole.”
He subconsciously let out a deep sigh. That beach had direct sunshine beaming down onto it mercilessly heavy like metal bars. Maybe this time they may be getting hit by the rain instead of the sun. Yeonjun figured that guy must be doing something thoughtless like what he’s been doing for the past 10 days. Yeonjun rustled the back of his hair in frustration. Thousands of thoughts rushed through him until he finally got up and left out the door. He at the very least wanted to know why he was being followed.
A moment later, the front gate slammed open. As if warning about the wet season ahead, it was raining incredibly strong. The street light that only intermittently worked just had to be out on a day like this. He couldn’t see in front of him very well. Yeonjun scanned through everywhere around him with heavily squinted eyes. The alleyway was strangely quiet. He must’ve left. He handled the intense sun well but seems he was too scared of the intense rain. Yeonjun laughed at this ridiculous situation. He had no idea how he ended up doing something so dumb the middle of the night instead of sleeping. At least there was one less thing to worry about. It was right as he thought this to himself and was heading back inside.
At that moment, the door bounced against something behind it. Yeonjun’s eyes looked down and his pupils widened in shock.
Someone was there. Right up against the fence with his head buried between his knees.
“Wow, this bastard, really……”
It was THAT guy.
“Hey.”
He called him but got no answer.
“Hey!!”
He really must’ve wanted to die, he did ask to be killed after all. Yeonjun bent down and approached him. With the rolled up pose he was in, he really resembled an abandoned dog. This time he grabbed Beomgyu’s shoulders and shook. From that, Beomgyu’s face was finally looking up. Luckily he wasn’t dead. Yeonjun roughly pulled back Beomgyu’s wet, messy hair. ‘Are you insane? What the fuck is your problem?’ He has never seen Beomgyu up so close. He looked more like a survivor of water torture than someone who just get rained on. Beomgyu slowly blinked his eyes then uttered a word from his blue-tinged lips.
“.....I’m doing fine”
Yeonjun busted out in laughter while standing back up. ‘Put on a show, why don’t you? Huh?’ His hair flew around while he laughed. Beomgyu buried his head between his knees again. He seemed to have no energy to even respond. ‘Ah, I’m really gonna lose my mind.’ Yeonjun looked down at Beomgyu with his eyebrows furrowed. This useless compassion. Waste of feelings. He’s always refused to get involved in unnecessary matters. He has seen many pricks living that way. They all got betrayed or used empty. Their lives only went down shitty trajectories. Therefore Yeonjun did not live that way. He knew it really well, that’s why he didn’t want to live like that.
‘Yeah. I know. I know but… fuck’.
Yeonjun peeled his eyes off of Beomgyu and looked up. The sky lightly growling. His mouth was dry. A cigarette sounded nice. Honestly if we’re talking about shitty life trajectories, this one was no different. So just one day.
“Hey.”
He decided to live like that for just one day.
“Come in.”
The rain was getting stronger.
-
What day was it? It hadn’t even been that long but when asked for the exact date, he couldn’t answer quickly. It was a clear day and warm winds blew…….
Beomgyu was standing underneath the banana tree. An old military style speaker at his feet, a long rope in his hands. Beomgyu saw them sitting out at a construction site, grabbed it and ran. It was his first time stealing anything.
The stolen rope was a brand new one. He didn’t have scissors to cut it with and was too afraid of his jaw becoming unhinged to use his teeth. It took a total of 20 minutes just to untangle it. Beomgyu folded the long rope in half and stood on top of the speaker. He chose the thickest tree branch to wrap the rope around. It wasn’t difficult at all. The only slightly annoying part was having to make a big enough noose. It was the place to put your head through.
‘Oh right, a will.’ He only remembered after that important part after sticking his head in the noose but didn’t stop. He had nothing to say nor anyone who would read them. Beomgyu was envisioning the first verse of his favorite song while opening up the noose. As soon as he inhaled, his last breath was pulled into his lungs. Right as his ribs expanded, he kicked away the speaker he was standing on. The nylon fabric of the rope tightly wrapped around his neck. Beomgyu instinctively struggled. When the adrenaline kicks in, it would all be over. Finally, it was goodbye.
It was at that moment. Out of nowhere, his back was pushed. Before he had the chance to turn around, his body limply fell onto the dirt ground. Broken tree branches and a pile of rope also fell. He began hearing yelling and something began hitting him all over. Beomgyu coughed violently. His face was red from the blood pooling up in it. He looked up and saw a group of people surrounding him. Everyone was wearing large-brimmed hats and skin tanned by the sun. It was the Cubans from the banana farm. It was closer to a garden than a farm. There were only 3 banana trees. That’s why they were even more angry. Apparently a tree someone died on does not produce fruits. A superstition you would likely hear from a Joseon Shaman was being believed in on the opposite side of the world too. After hurling words Beomgyu couldn’t understand, they all suddenly rushed towards him. Beomgyu leapt up. While getting beat all over, he was fighting back and screaming. He flailed his arms and legs around like crazy. He fought so hard that he did not seem like someone who was trying to die just a second ago. Yelling voices chased after him. They ran after him with oiled up bats. He would be beaten to death if caught. Even after getting out of the shaded area, Beomgyu continued to run under the intense sunshine. Dying by hanging was fine but being beaten to death was not. You want to die, but don’t want to be killed either. What do you do then? A wind blew from somewhere. He felt like he’d pass out. It was that hot of a day.
-
When his eyelids finally lifted, it was the dead of night. He had the same dream again today. Running like crazy after failing at dying. Thanks to that, he couldn’t stand the sight of bananas anymore. Beomgyu got up while holding his forehead. It felt like his skull was gonna crack open and his body was trembling. It seems extreme fatigue has set in. This time, he looked around him while clutching a blanket in his hands. A strange space that wasn’t a motel nor a family home. The only furniture inside was a closet and a table. There was a TV but it was ancient enough to believe it was given by an American soldier during the war. Beomgyu also began putting pieces together. Yesterday he followed Buda, sat crouched outside of his door and fell asleep like that. It also seemed to have rained quite a bit. The problem was that he had no recollection of walking into this home himself. Buda yelled at him but he could not get up. Then after opening his eyes again, he is in a bed. What’s worse is he was completely naked. The bed was stupidly large compared to the size of the dinky little pillows and blanket. But whose bed is this. When his thoughts approached that part, he suddenly became afraid. This may not be Buda’s home. The walls reeked of cigarettes. The culprit was the cigarette butts piled up on the table. He was curious to see what kind of face would belong to a heavy smoker who doesn’t own a single ashtray. Buda didn’t seem like the type to do something so silly. You can’t judge a book by its cover but he looked more like a guy who would rather smoke drugs than cigarettes.
Beomgyu got up and got himself together with the intention of looking around. Even the thought itself was a courageous effort. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the room began spinning and he felt sick to his stomach. It was the result of being struck with heavy rain without any protection all night. His body was already heading back towards the bed, as if being sucked in. His eyes closed as well not long after. What would happen if you fell asleep like this? ‘Would you even be alive tomorrow? Maybe you would become shark food after having all your organs harvested but that was okay. You’d have to be put under to split the belly open so it didn’t sound too painful.’ While his thoughts ran wild, Beomgyu’s body made no movement besides breathing. He fell asleep without even realizing he was sleeping. It was a sleep like the deep sea. As if he was never gonna wake again.
“The prices went up again.”
The hand that was handing over a stack of money paused. When Yeonjun furrowed his brows, Park Dong-Jae began groaning. Ah why, what is it this time? The reason was the cocaine prices doubling and tripling from last month’s price. The drought is bad these days for coca leaves. This is the highest grade available now. Park Dong-Jae moved the money pile closer to him while coddling Yeonjun. 3 brick-sized bundles. Each bundle costs 1000 pesos, equivalent to about one million Won. It would’ve been barely enough for a deposit for a rental room in Seoul but an amount hard to make even if you dedicated your entire life to peeling mangos. It had been several years since several million won were exchanged between Yeonjun and Park Dong-Jae. As always, it was cash up-front.
Park Dong-Jae who counted with his eyes scoffed. “Hey, I can’t just eat dirt to survive…… But I will never skimp, don't be angry.” His eyelids were quite fat and covered his pupils when he laughed. Instead of answering, Yeonjun opened his trunk and motioned with his chin for them to bring the product inside. Jose, who was next to them, grabbed the cocaine and moved it inside. He was a Mexican man that’s been working under Park Dong-Jae for quite some time and although he was a big guy, he only had one arm. It was cut off during a dispute over cocaine with the cartel. It was pure luck that all he lost that day was an arm.
“Run a scam on me or don’t, I don't really care.”
If you’re confident enough to not get caught, that is. Seemingly displeased with where Jose left the drugs, Yeonjun said while touching the bundles. Park Dong-Jae looked him up and down. ‘Is it because of who his father is?’ Park Dong-Jae was annoyed at this point. Speaking to someone at least 10 years older than him in neither honorifics or casual speech, he was not the fondest of Yeonjun. A piece of shit who has a nice face yet does dirty work like this. Of course he has never shown signs of his dislike. Born a scammer, he’s always been good at hiding his expressions but today, he had to work harder. He was about to make an important offer to Yeonjun.
“.......”
Park Dong-Jae used his peripherals to find the perfect timing. After closing the trunk, Yeonjun was getting in the car.
Park Dong-Jae walked towards the driver side as the car engine started. When he tapped on the half-open window, Yeonjun, with his wrist hanging over the steering wheel, raised his eyebrows and glared. What? Park Dong-Jae shoved his face right up to the irritated Yeonjun.
“How long are you gonna push this coke thing for?”
Yeonjun gave him a stink eye. It was a very ‘what the fuck did you just say?’ sort of expression. Park Dong-Jae didn’t blink an eye. He stopped rubbing his hands together then suddenly spoke.
“Let’s do a big one”
“We can just get it done quick then wash our hands of it entirely”
As soon as he finished speaking Yeonjun laughed out loud. How many times did I say I won’t push heroin. Yeonjun, who was about to go off on the man, paused for a second. He couldn’t predict what he meant by “a Big one”. Park Dong-Jae stopped sucking on his gums and got up.
“500 thousand pesos.”
Guaranteed if everything goes well. Yeonjun doubted his ears for a second. It was an amount that could compete against the amount earned when dealing with large Mexican Cartels that were rich enough to use submarines to move cocaine. It would be a little short of 500 million Won. An amount gang members could make in a day but Yeonjun couldn’t dream of making. Even if he sold to everyone he possibly could, after lobbying off cops and other authorities, there was barely anything leftover. Yeonjun sat silently and blinked. When he had a blank expression, he finally actually looked his age. The 30+ year old supplier laughed at the 20 year old stuck in deep thought. He must be shocked. This time, he even waved his phone playfully while walking backwards. Call me if you change your mind.
In the hour the sun’s ray begins to bend, it would become extremely humid but half as hot as before. Yeonjun was running on the dirt road. He had to head out early in the morning thanks to his car dying on him. He could not stop cursing the whole way to the beach. He ran so much that the bottom of his feet were pulsing in pain.
The car had an engine problem. He gave some money up front to a nearby coconut boy. The best he could do was tweak some things around with the wrench so the engine still sounded rough. He knew not to expect too much out of random handymen, but the loud noise did irritate him. Yeonjun tried to ignore the distractions to focus on remembering what Park Dong-Jae said.
Flakka. What came out of Park Dong-Jae’s mouth was an unfamiliar word. It’s been popular for the past 2-3 years, made in China. Park Dong-Jae explained and raved. Aren’t the god damned Chinese so great? They’re just built differently. Flakka was the street name of a new drug. Supposedly an animal tranquilizer mixed with baking soda and an Arabian psychedelic, but the exact proportions were unknown. Apparently the problem was it not being on the radar of the law for a long time. Thanks to that, it spread to America, Yemen and even Romania. Like its own third world war.
“Pricing it too high would be a dumb move.”
Park Dong-Jae shrugged and laughed.
“Just price it the same as Coke. That should leave you with more than enough. Because YOU can get it for super cheap….. isn’t that great?” Yeonjun counted with his fingers hanging over his steering wheel. After weighing everything out, selling that would leave him 8x more than what he’d get with coke. Park Dong-Jae whispered two more things and went on his way. Let’s hit it and quit it. For just half a year then we’ll never deal with it again. Suddenly so many factors popped up in his mind. The house he’s been living in, marijuana, the market and his father. Maybe he won’t have to worry about being stabbed ever again. Maybe he could live just running a dinky little shop in Hawaii or Boracay. That could be possible with 500 million won. While his peers back in Korea were thinking of which university to apply for, Yeonjun was searching for ways to not live like his father. He would hate to croak the way his father did. It was about time he got tired of this lifestyle anyway.
-
Yeonjun’s car that was running for quite some time had to stop at the mouth of the alleyway. It was too narrow and he had no choice but to walk. The parking spot was in front of the abandoned building as always. The building was just a single story with the windows destroyed was a gun shop that failed a couple years back. The owner who shot his daughter turned the gun on himself. Streets say it was because she got hooked onto cocaine. All thanks to that, the quiet streets went back to calling Yeonjun a bitch for a while.
Yeonjun searched around his pockets. He wanted a cigarette. Above his head, the dark clouds were rolling in. It looked like it would rain soon. He expected heavy rain but was too tired to run. Before he got even halfway there, the rain began to mercilessly fall onto him. Yeonjun fast walked while chewing on his cigarette filter. He really wanted to run but his steps kept getting heavier and heavier. He wanted to just sink into his bed without showering. His body felt heavier than usual.
Maybe because he is so used to living alone from not having any family left, he couldn’t comprehend what was going on when he stepped into his room.
“………”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of going through the trouble of showering just to not have anywhere to lay. ‘What’s with this kid?’ It’s true that he himself picked the guy up and put him in his bed last night. He was completely out of it so he more so transported him. Not difficult at all. Beomgyu was light and his wet clothes were taken off and thrown to the side. The problem is Yeonjun didn’t know he’d stay like that for this long. He was sprawled out in his pitiful state with the blanket on top of him. Yeonjun checked his wristwatch again.
“Hey”
It was six.
“Hey!!”
Yeonjun even stopped shaking off his wet hair and tapped him with his foot. Beomgyu’s side flinched and his eyelids finally opened. As his vision gradually cleared, the first thing he saw was a shirtless Yeonjun in just a pair of sweats. He was staring at Beomgyu with an annoyed face. The surprised Beomgyu flailed around trying to get up. But his body would not listen to him. His mouth was dry and his face was hot. After a minute, he pitifully looked up and Yeonjun scoffed in disbelief.
“Did you have a restful slumber sir?”
He had no energy for a comeback. He was tired and his cornea felt dry. Yeonjun stopped shuffling through his clothes, threw his towel and laid down. ‘It’s your world and I’m just living in it right?’ He was too lazy to find a shirt. He didn’t even have a reason to put one on.
When Yeonjun laid down, Beomgyu shimmied himself to the opposite side of the bed. So close he was basically touching the wall. Yeonjun mumbled with his eyes closed. ‘I won’t wait until tomorrow….. Get out of here on your own.’ The only sound Beomgyu made was his little breaths.
“Understood. I’m sorry.”
He could barely say a word with his sore throat.
“Hmm?”
Yeonjun slowly glanced over when he didn’t hear an answer. ‘You ignoring me?’ Beomgyu had the blanket all the way up with only his eyes peeking out of it. Their eyes met with a tiny distance between them. Buda must’ve lived in Seoul. Even when he’s berating, he still sounds really caring. He stopped the unnecessary thinking and opened his mouth.
“……….I’m really sorry but-.” His voice was breaking all over the place. “Could you maybe let me sleep here one more night?” His tongue was on fire. Yeonjun’s shocked wide eyes blinked slowly. Kill me, let me sleep here, he really does whatever he wants. Yeonjun almost smiled. “No……. Fuck off.” Beomgyu was able to swallow his spit after struggling for a while. ‘Crazy bastard why doesn’t he just kill me right now?’ That would be perfect because his throat felt as if nails were being hammered into it. But if he said any of that out loud he would be dragged out to the streets immediately.
The two sat silently for a while. From one edge of the bed to another, they stared at each other with eyes drowning in body aches and exhaustion. Yeonjun’s eyes closed first. Soon he began taking deep breaths. It was a strangely calming sound. Beomgyu moved his gaze from the ceiling down to Yeonjun. It felt strange. He looked so young while asleep. Pitifully so. It felt so dumb to be worrying about someone else in this state. Beomgyu did not open his eyes. The blanket felt slightly rough on his bare skin. The sound of rain became louder.
-
Park Dong-Jae received the phone call about 4 days later. He picked up the call on his way to Tijuana to pick up some Flakka. Surely, Yeonjun was no role model. Or maybe the power of 500 million was just too massive. Yeonjun was as impatient as he was skeptical. Park Dong-Jae knew that well. The two arranged to meet at the port the very next week. Meeting up twice in a month. It was out of the ordinary.
“So why do I have to kill you again?”
“No wait, start from when you first learned of my existence.” Yeonjun had a lot of questions that day. The afternoon following his phone call with Park Dong-Jae, finally the two were having a proper conversation face to face. Being shuffled in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable. Maybe it was from losing weight while he was sick but his pelvic bone hurt every time he sat down.
“Someone told me in the smuggling ship”
“You said it was at the border”
Yeonjun gave him a glare after not hearing an answer.
“A fuckin lie huh?”
Beomgyu twiddled his thumbs while sitting criss-cross applesauce. His intuition was a bit scary but also Beomgyu had nothing to lose. ‘If you’re mad then kill me.’ Yeonjun grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it.
“So which fucker told you about me?”
“I don’t know him, but he was Korean.”
Yeonjun asked again.
“What did he tell you about me?”
“……..”
“Spit it out.”
Beomgyu hesitated for a while then looked up.
“…… that you would do anything for money”
“He said you are crazy when it comes to money.” Yeonjun cracked up like a shaken carbonated drink opening.
“Wow, how did they know!”
He had nothing to say because it was too accurate. The sound of the lighter wheel turning dragged on. “But what do we do? I’ve sold drugs but never killed anyone before.” The smoke he exhaled disappeared into the sun. Beomgyu quietly fanned it away with his hands. “Well, I guess I can pump you full of drugs until you die.” Yeonjun began giggling while ashing his cigarette. He was about to ask why he wanted to do it but stopped himself. He only needed to worry about himself, no one else. Beomgyu’s eyebrows furrowed intensely. This man didn’t seem like he sold drugs but rather just smoked it.
A bit later, Yeonjun exhaled a cloud of smoke and twisted his cigarette on his desk to put it out like always. Fine, okay.
“I get it so can you leave now?”
He paused in the middle of stretching to say this with a kind voice. ‘Hyung is actually a very busy man”. That meant ‘if you’re not gonna buy or sell drugs, then fuck off’. Beomgyu sat in silence just staring into the back of Yeonjun’s head. He opened up his desk drawer and was searching around for something. ‘The hell, who even asked you to be my Hyung’. The wanted poster said he’s in his early 20s so at the most they were only 2-3 years apart. Even though their body composition is completely different, if they decided to fight, Beomgyu felt he’d be able to stand his ground for at least a block. Beomgyu felt he had horrible choices in people. He had no idea Buda was the type to be a heavy smoker who doesn’t own a circle ashtray. A bastard who piled cigarette butts on one of the few furniture he owns. He should just take the drugs he has instead of selling.
In front of the disturbed Beomgyu, Yeonjun brought out a few bags of powder. It was the 3 million worth he had bought earlier. Yeonjun sat with his back against his bedside drawer and set up his foldable table. He also pulled out the scale and piles of cut up parchment paper. It was the beginning of his shift.
He dealt every drug in grams. He’d pack 10g into every piece of parchment paper but sold them in syringes. Saying you shouldn’t ruin your precious noses. Selling in syringes also allowed him to leave out a gram from what they paid for. He would split the 10 grams into 12 syringes so it was a seamless way to lower the cost of goods.
Yeonjun carefully scooped the powder into the paper. After the time he spilled water in his work station, he has become really sensitive and irritable during this part of his work. The issue with the spilled water was that he bought a lot more than usual seeking to make a large profit then just wasted it all.
“Aren’t you gonna leave?”
He began feeling more and more irritated at the sight of Beomgyu in his peripherals.
“I said leave.”
Beomgyu sat silently holding his knees. Yeonjun was yelling louder than before. It wasn’t a joke. It was time to make a decision.
“Why are you doing things like this?”
He had no idea where that random confidence came from. When he came to, he was right in front of Yeonjun’s face crouched over to meet his eye level.
“Just kill me and go live a new life.
I have a lot of money.”
The moment he lost his survival instincts, Yeonjun made a face he had not seen before. What? It felt like he would swing at any moment. ‘Every word this fucker says is a lie.’ He rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Ah yes, so how much money are we talking? ….. Do you even have 100 million won?” Yeonjun laughed out loud at what he just said. He was about to lose his mind like a mentos meeting Cola. Beomgyu did not laugh with him.
“Is that a joke?”
Beomgyu’s lower eyelid slightly twitched.
-
The engine smelled of burnt gasoline. The season that would make oil with the boiling point of 40℃ bubble. Disgusting weather. Yeonjun was driving to the beach. The wind was blowing sand everywhere and a coughing sound came from the passenger seat. It was Beomgyu.
In the middle of the night, four days prior, Yeonjun’s eyes suddenly opened. He had the same dream as always. Getting buried in the rocky mountains just like his father. Yeonjun rose up while holding his forehead. At this point maybe it’s a premonition dream.
The sound of rain had stopped. The air flowing against your bare skin was cool. The drastic difference in the temperature was getting really old. Yeonjun searched around his clothing pile, pulled out a zip-up and put it on. Only then he saw Beomgyu who’d put himself in the far corner edge of the bed. Not only was he in the blanket, his whole body was in it. Fine, sleep all you want. Yeonjun laid back down with the plan of kicking him out as soon as he woke up in the morning. Finally as he was about to drift off, a strange sound pulled him out of it. His breathing sounded off. Yeonjun turned around then raised the blanket to take a look at Beomgyu.
The sound was coming from Beomgyu. He was curled up like a crushed soda can and basically unconscious. Yeonjun reached out and touched his face. It was so hot to touch that it felt like it could burn his hand. ‘You just can’t stop causing problems, can you?’ Yeonjun turned the lights on with an annoyed scowl. His eyes hurt from the sudden fluorescent lights. He then began rustling through the inside of his bedside cabinet. He first asked to be killed, to crash here and now he’s sick. He pulled out a little bag out of the depth of his drawer. Advil. An American medication that had expired the night before and only had one pill left in it. It wasn’t time to worry about the date. Yeonjun propped Beomgyu’s weak body up then popped open a bottle of water. Beomgyu’s bangs were in shambles, soaked by his sweat. Yeonjun shoved a pill in his mouth then fed him water. He has never seen someone be this sick from a cold in this weather. No one ever really got that here.
Like that, Beomgyu was out of it for four whole days. There was no way there were any dependable pharmacies near them. Yeonjun bought out all of the over-the-counter meds from the tourist convenience store near the beach. He was planning on getting back twice the amount spent when he woke up. He didn’t have an ounce of desire to become a caretaker.
“So where do I go from here”
Yeonjun looked at Beomgyu while coming to a stop. It was a pedestrian only area. Beomgyu got out and pointed somewhere with his chin. "We have to go allll the way there." It was the complete opposite way from the beach and Beomgyu had apparently buried his money there. He said 100 million won was child’s play.
“Come on.”
He led the way while Yeonjun was turning off the car. ‘I saved him from the brink of death and now he’s lively as hell’. Yeonjun couldn’t believe this situation. Not only did some crazy bastard show up begging to be killed, he trusted him enough to come all the way here, he too, was a crazy bastard himself.
The two crazy bastards began walking with the beach far behind them. They walked straight for a while. Beomgyu spread his arms like an airplane and ran around everywhere. His hair was flowing in the wind and he looked happy. He did not look like someone who was going to die. Yeonjun leisurely followed behind him with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly, the endless array of markets and shops disappeared. It was all replaced by palm trees, fig trees, mariposa and farming tools. After a while, those disappeared too.
They finally reached a place where only the rocks, wind, sea and fields of green looked poetic but could easily hide a dead body also. Beomgyu masterfully maneuvered between the large rocks. The waves of the blue sea flew in between his sandals. How did he even find a place like this, Yeonjun wondered while walking around. He lived and roamed around Cuba for years yet never came across a place like this.
Finally, Beomgyu’s footsteps stopped. The loud sound of crashing waves surrounded them. Beomgyu turned to make sure Yeonjun was still there and kept walking a little further. Ahead of Beomgyu was something that looked close to a cave. It was far too small to be called a cave and too hollowed out to be called a boulder.
Beomgyu folded his body and went inside. After a second, he came out carrying something behind him. Yeonjun gasped subconsciously. It was a travel suitcase. It was a good quality of aluminum and a ridiculously large size at that.
“You put the money in there?”
Yeonjun asked. Beomgyu nodded. There is actually one more. This time, he walked up even higher with his hands grasping the handle of the suitcase. His face was full of certainty.
They found a comfortable spot and sat down. Beomgyu who found the lock began turning the stiff number notches. It was hard to tell if the numbers showed 0313 but they tried it. Yeonjun was leaning and watching Beomgyu. The lock finally clicked then opened. The lock may have disintegrated a bit, it dropped a bit of metal shavings. Beomgyu rubbed his hands clean and pushed the suitcase towards Yeonjun.
“Open it.”
Yeonjun’s smile faded.
“Why should I?”
Beomgyu didn’t even crack a smile.
“You said you didn’t believe me.”
Find out for yourself. Yeonjun slowly blinked at Beomgyu’s newfound confidence. He had no idea where the audacity was coming from. When Yeonjun didn’t respond, Beomgyu pointed at the suitcase once again. Yeonjun finally gave in and got prepared to open it.
The suitcase was definitely big. If this large suitcase was full of cash, he could understand Beomgyu’s attitude. Yeonjun searched around for the zipper. But something was weird. The seam of the suitcase was soaking wet for some reason. What? Confused, Yeonjun pulled the zipper once again. The suitcase plopped open.
“......... Hey’
Yeonjun called Beomgyu after staring down at the suitcase for a while. His voice was different than usual. Why are you that shocked? Beomgyu couldn’t see Yeonjun’s face. Because he was holding up the top of the suitcase for Yeonjun, all he could see was aluminium. Yeonjun did not respond. He just turned the suitcase towards Beomgyu. The color faded from Beomgyu’s face.
The money wasn’t missing. Rather, it was full of it. Countless amounts of rolled up 50 thousand won bills. It was all under a layer of sea water. It was a water disaster that drowned Ms. Shin Saimdang (A artist, writer and poet from the Joseon Era who is printed on the bills).
Makes sense why it was so unbelievably heavy. It was dense as if carrying a body inside. Beomgyu tossed a roll of money at Beomgyu whose face was still drained of life.
“We’re fucked.”
All of it would shred apart with one wrong move. He grabbed one with the understanding he may ruin it and held it up towards the sun. It wasn’t fake at least.
Yeonjun closed the suitcase halfway. As he poured out some water from the crevice, a few bills came out along with it. Beomgyu was sitting, at a loss for words. Yeonjun closed the suitcase after draining all the water from it and tossed it to Beomgyu.
Beomgyu walked all the way to the road holding a suitcase as big as his body. Yeonjun was walking quite far ahead of him. He wanted to pull the suitcase but the broken off wheels didn’t make that an option. Everything must’ve dried from the salt in the water. It made weird noises every time Beomgyu took a step.
Yeonjun, who couldn’t bear to watch any longer, yanked the suitcase from Beomgyu. He easily carried it over his shoulder with one hand and continued marching on. The complete opposite. Beomgyu followed behind him like a newly born baby duckling. He was so out of it that he threw himself into the back seat when they got to the car. Yeonjun looked up at the back mirror while starting his car.
“Am I your chauffeur?”
“....... What?”
“Sit next to me.”
The sea glowed with red as if engulfed in flames. The sun began to set.
-
Deep into the night, the lights suddenly went out. The streetlights were also down. There was word of the government collapsing and truly nothing including insurance companies and power generators were working correctly. At least it happened as they were getting ready to sleep.
Yeonjun laid down and lit a cigarette. With the way he would be holding it from the moment he woke up to right before falling asleep, you would think he was dating it. After exhaling the smoke a few times, Beomgyu popped the window open with some attitude. For someone who looks mellow and soft, he does have some sharp edges.
“So how do you want to be killed?”
Yeonjun asked while ashing his cigarette on his bedside table.
“Did you find some motivation after seeing the money?”
Beomgyu laughed. “Yeah.” Yeonjun did not hide it. He must’ve lost his mind back when Beomgyu said 100 million won was child’s play.
As soon as they got home, they began drying the money. They pulled out each bill from the roll and laid it flat, plastered not only the entire floor but the TV and every windowsill. Thanks to that, Beomgyu was spared from sleeping on the floor. There was nowhere to be except for the bed. They compromised on throwing away the irreparably damaged bills. That was 600 thousand won. The floor was basically cushioned with money.
“Where did you get all that money?”
Beomgyu didn’t even blink an eye.
“It’s none of your business.”
He was so fearless that he must’ve completely lost his survival instinct but Yeonjun wasn’t one to be offended by it. How sassy. Beomgyu muttered in annoyance at the cackling Yeonjun. “I didn’t steal it nor did I sell drugs to make it.…….. it’s not dirty money is what I’m saying”. Beomgyu looked up at the ceiling in silence. Yeonjun giggled while ashing his cigarette.
“Ah yes, my master”
Beomgyu turned to him.
“What are you even saying?”
Yeonjun’s voice sounded a bit defeated.
“The one who has more money is always the master.”
Nirvana has ended. Buddha has lost his mind.
“Ok so how do you want me to kill you?”
“…….”
“Should I just shoot you?”
Yeonjun made a loud bang sound and shot a finger gun, to Beomgyu’s dismay. “I don’t want it to hurt.” “Then what do you want?” “I also don’t want it to be scary.” Yeonjun bursted out in genuine laughter.
“It sounds like you want to die in your sleep.”
Beomgyu nodded this time. The master had a very peculiar taste. Yeonjun crossed out a bunch of options from his mind. Knife, gun, saw, hammer, all horrific things.
A period of silence came after that conversation. It was silent all around. Beomgyu looked around the pitch dark room. No matter how hard he tried, he could not find it himself to feel at home in this place. When he turned to Yeonjun, he was silently holding his hands together. “What are you doing?” “....... Are you praying?” It was funny seeing him like that not moving an inch. Yeonjun, who had fallen asleep, slowly opened his eyes.
“Yeah.
So I can go to heaven after killing you.”
He smiled while pulling his hands apart. “Wanna do it with me?” His voice was deeper than before. Beomgyu could hear a low humming sound. “Our Father in heaven. Please only forgive MY sin and only save ME from evil. …….Just me.” The moonlight slipped through the crack in the window. Yeonjun’s eyes slowly began closing again. Was it death? Sleep? Somewhere in between? No one knows. They didn’t even know what each other were dreaming about. Beomgyu subconsciously examined Yeonjun’s face.
“Even if you grant me heaven’s entry, I refuse.
Please throw me into the deepest depths of hell.”
It was the beginning of a rather strange prayer.
-
The humid heat skyrocketed so high it could’ve broken the thermometer. It was a heatwave so out of character for the wet season and the sharp ray of the sun would sting your eyes from early morning. The person who woke first to that chaos of light was Yeonjun. He, with his bird’s nest of a hairstyle, shook Beomgyu awake.
The two prepared for a new era while picking up the dried bills from every surface of their home. Although the destination of choice between the bastard who wanted to go to heaven and the other who wanted to go to hell were entirely different, for now, they needed each other. Beomgyu who had nowhere to be and endless supply of money, decided to stay in Yeonjun’s room until his “time”. “That’s okay right? …….Hello?” When Yeonjun scowled instead of responding, Beomgyu began popping off with a sassy voice. “You can’t even do that for me? With how much I’m paying you?” Yeonjun was listening and scratching his head. “Ugh, fine. Fine, do whatever you want.” Not only was he a handful, he was a certified yapper.
On the first day of their new life, they decided to make a visit to the currency exchange shop first. The bills were of no use in this land. Yeonjun, wearing a black cap, led the way. He yawned endlessly. Suddenly, Beomgyu, who was following behind just fine, came to a full stop.
“What”
“.......”
“What is it this time?”
When Yeonjun continued to pester, Beomgyu quietly muttered under his breath. “Let me ride in your car please.” Yeonjun threw his cap off in irritation. His head was hot, literally and figuratively. Call him “master” in the middle of the night and this is how he acts after. While Yeonjun was about to lose his damn mind, Beomgyu just blinked his eyes innocently. He wasn’t trying to boss around, the truth was that his feet hurt. His pinky toe has been hurting like it was gonna fall off since yesterday.
The exchange shop was 20 minutes away by foot and 3 minutes away by car. The place they arrived at within a few spins on the car tire was certainly more like the designated spot to “clean up” dirty money. Forget a sign, the circulation inside was so poor that the entire place was riddled with mold. A disgusting power of infestation.
Yeonjun pulled out the dried bills from his pocket. He first brought just a roll of 100 thousand won with him. When he put the money on the counter, the owner started up the counting machine. It was so old that it shook the entire table while it counted. Beomgyu only looked around quietly standing behind Yeonjun. The owner was a Cuban man who seemed to have no interest in shaving. The hairy man who could’ve been one of Yeonjun’s customers with his dark gums, had a strange looking rug hung up behind him. It was a drawing of something with the face of Jesus, body of Vishnu, sitting in the Lotus meditation pose.
The money Yeonjun received back was only 790 pesos. In Korean Won it was about 89 thousand won. In one round of exchanges 11 thousand won disappeared into thin air. The reasoning behind this was that they have no use for Korean won, so they first exchanged it into Canadian currency then to pesos, which multiplied the price of processing fees. Yeonjun was not one to let this slide. He went back and forth with the owner with a scary look on his face, but it was in Spanish so Beomgyu couldn’t understand any of it.
Finally, Yeonjun talked the man into lowering the processing fee to just 7 thousand won. They compromise was only possible due to their supplier, customer relationship. The owner who was handing the exchanged money over pointed behind Yeonjun with his chin. Yeonjun He was asking who he was. Yeonjun also looked back. It was certain, the man was asking who Beomgyu was. Yeonjun shrugged his shoulders. “My slave.” The owner busted out laughing before Yeonjun even finished talking.
“What did you guys say earlier?”
Beomgyu asked in suspicion when they got back to the car. “When?” Yeonjun responded with no effort. “He asked who I was with.” “So what?” “What were you guys laughing about?” Yeonjun prepared to tease him.
“I just told him you’re my master.”
Of course that was a lie. Beomgyu, who was not convinced, didn't back down easily. “Don’t lie to me.” “Why would I lie to you?” “Then why were you guys laughing?” “Am I not allowed to laugh?” “You laughed because you said something bad about me!” At that moment, Yeonjun raised his eyebrow and turned to face Beomgyu.
“What sort of bad thing?”
Due to him asking this while looking Beomgyu directly in the eyes, he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t explain what the bad thing was because he didn’t know what they said. After that, Yeonjun turned back while laughing mischievously. “Are you sure the only bad thing here isn’t your mood? He laughed when I said you were my master because I have no parents.” It was bullshit but weirdly believable. Yeonjun was skilled at getting out of situations like that. They say when you’re hasty, it’s a lie but when you’re skilled, it’s a scam. Yeonjun just ran a light scam just now. Beomgyu, who glared out the window in silence, got mad again. “I don’t have parents either you know!!” Yeonjun expressed sympathy at his sudden confession. “You poor, poor thing.”
That day, after exchanging the money, the two stopped by at the grocery store and even filled up the tank. The convenience store was near the beach and since they brought the car out, they decided to kill several birds with one stone.
Beomgyu really bought one of everything at the store. To Yeonjun they looked frivolous. From calendars you have to rip off as the months pass, a broom, dustpan, jelly candy, several pieces of clothing, he bought everything you need to make a living which was unfitting for someone getting ready to die. Especially when selecting his pajamas, he asked for Yeonjun’s help.
“……. Can you ask if they have this in pink?”
“What? Pink?”
Beomgyu gave him a sharp glare instead of an answer. His taste in things was very distinct. Yeonjun couldn’t understand how Beomgyu was so excited to see the sea swallowing the setting sun on the way back home. ‘Does it still look that beautiful after spending ten miserable days rolling around on the beach?’ To Yeonjun, the only pink thing he knew of was the sunset which wasn’t that special to him. It was only special to people like tourists. He was sick of looking at it all the time. He didn’t know why. One day, he stopped being enamored with the sky and crying at sunsets. Just like that, he became empty of emotions and continued growing up that way.
Beomgyu, drunk on the beauty of the beach, mumbled at Yeonjun who was just silently pressing on his gas pedal. “……. I wanna listen to music.” When Yeonjun didn’t respond, he decided to ask directly. “Does this radio work?” “It doesn’t.” “Why?” “What do you mean why? It just doesn’t” Frustrated Beomgyu sighed.
“Then we can just listen with bluetooth.”
“Sure.”
“What’s your melon ID?”
Yeonjun, who couldn’t bear to hear anymore, stopped the car. He even put it in park then shoved his face close to Beomgyu’s.
“Excuse me Master.”
“…….”
“Unfortunately, my car doesn’t have Melontooth or whatever it is.”
In contrast to his annoyed face, his voice was quite affectionate. They say for some people, friendliness is a habit and Yeonjun’s vocal cords seemed to confirm that saying. Beomgyu slowly backed away. With Yeonjun leaning his body towards him, he could see a necklace hanging on his neck. Finally, Beomgyu turned away in silence. It was hot. He wanted to lower the window but instead of a button, there was a weird knob that looked like the lid of an icy-hot stick. You had to spin it to use it. Beomgyu couldn’t dare even guess the age of this fully manual car. Beomgyu gave up on music, breeze and just laid his head against the window. ‘So cocky for an owner of a shitty car.’ Of course he only said it in his head. A long day. The sea was red today too.
-
The weekday afternoon at the Port of Cojímar was dead and sticky everywhere. The fishermen gathered on the salt corroded pier seemed to be having an off-day. There was not a single nudge of their fishing poles. Yeonjun parked his car under a sign and walked into the port. The back of his neck felt as if it was being seared by the sun.
“You’re here.”
Yeonjun raised his voice as soon as he spotted Park Dong-Jae. Park Dong-Jae waved from under the small palm tree where his big self was crouched under. It was a sight to see.
Two began to head to Park Dong-Jae’s car. Jose, who was standing by, opened up the new drug “Flakka”. Yeonjun grabbed one bag out of the bunch and cut it open with his pocket knife. It looked similar to methamphetamine. It had no smell.
“This isn’t gonna cause problems, is it?”
Yeonjun poured some of the powder onto his palms. Park Dong-Jae laughed while scratching his elbow. “There’s no drug that can’t cause problems, you die from doing any of them too much.” Yeonjun tapped the powder off of his wristwatch. "That’s not what I meant.”
“What if someone dies after taking this, it’ll be me that gets locked up.”
Park Dong-Jae laughed. ‘I literally just told this brat all drugs can kill.’ This time, Park even pulled up his sleeves. “Nowadays, everyone who did coke is also on this, both can get you where you want to go but one costs half the price. Now that’s a good deal.” Yeonjun, who was sitting silently, put some of the powder on his index finger and held it out in front of Jose. Jose sat dumbfounded at Yeonjun’s unexpected action.
“You don’t know?”
Yeonjun teasingly raised an eyebrow and made a motion with his finger. ‘Crazy fucking bastard.’ Park Dong-Jae’s eyes widened in shock. Yeonjun had motioned for Jose to rub the powder into his gums. Jose firmly waved his only remaining hand at Yeonjun’s offer. “Hey, don't do that. Although he’s a big guy, he’s actually got some innocence to him.” Park Dong-Jae interjected himself in the conversation to try to stop Yeonjun. Yeonjun made a confused face as he slowly sat up in his seat. “Oh, he’s so innocent that he’ll shoot up meth but not this?” He wasn’t lying. Recently, Jose’s gums have been swollen red, seemingly from the side effect of his recent rendezvous with meth.
“Why? You said this product will also take people where they wanna go.”
Yeonjun leaned forward and put on a sly smile. Park Dong-Jae rubbed his eyes in irritation. ‘I should’ve known, this difficult bastard. He looks easy to backstab but never shows his back.’ Yeonjun was normally laid back but would sometimes make cruel “jokes” like,
“Well if anything happens I’m sure you’d be willing to die in my place.”
Today was like that. Yeonjun pulled out the money with an unreadable, poker face expression. He was planning on only purchasing a “sample size.” Park Dong-Jae received the money and began frantically counting.
Before going their separate ways, the two shared a cigarette in front of Park’s vehicle. They did this the first time they dealt as well. Nothing like sharing cancer-causing substances to celebrate them now being on the same boat. Park passed the lit cigarette over to Yeonjun. He then took a long drag, strong enough to suck his cheeks in a bit, then stomped it out on the ground. The cigarette butt regurgitated black smoke then died.
At the same time, the national news was loud with the weather prediction of the week. It was unexpectedly dry for wet season. It was blaring heat instead of raining down like a shower booth, which killed off a bunch of local shrimp. Beomgyu did not know. He had no reason to use the TV in Yeonjun’s place nor would he have even understood anything they were saying anyway. Perhaps due to how quiet the place was, Beomgyu normally didn’t wake up until around mid-afternoon. Yeonjun had already left for the day when he woke up, again. Since they weren’t close enough to have to tell each other where they’re going, Beomgyu wasn’t that curious about where he was. The clock pointed to well-over noon.
Beomgyu opened up the paper bag and pulled out the broom and dustpan. He had a headache every time he woke up, thanks to the cigarette cemetery on the bedside table. That was the reason behind him purchasing cleaning supplies.
Beomgyu stared down at the pile of ashes for a while, held his breath then began cleaning. Cigarette ash was a lot finer than he expected. It flying up everywhere led him to open up every door and window in the home. The bedside table needed to be wiped down four times to get finally clean. Beomgyu couldn’t understand Yeonjun who was a clean-freak at times yet didn’t own an ashtray. It was his first time meeting someone like that. Beomgyu’s cleaning stages started from the bedside table to the floors, then the floors to the bed, he organized his thoughts in a similar order while doing it. He was scrambling trying to sweep up the last bit of the ash. He was trying his best but his hands that weren’t used to cleaning could only do so much.
Truthfully, while he was living in Korea, he still had someone that cleaned after him and did his laundry. His mom went golfing in the daytime and his father was frequently flying out for work. He went on work trips to big, developed countries. On the days his father would return from these trips, he would give Beomgyu a gift, take the whole family out to eat, then all attended church together on that sunday. Beomgyu was a born-believer whose phone ringtone was a gospel song. That’s right, he loved God back then. It felt surreal for him to be on a communist island, cursing god and sweeping up cigarette ash. It felt so unrealistic that it hurt. It was surprising that he stayed alive for more than a year and he felt stupid for not jumping into the ocean on his boat to Hawaii. Beomgyu still felt that way. Even when he dreams, it’s about dying. He felt relieved though,
Because he found Yeonjun, because he’ll do anything for money.
Yeonjun only returned late in the evening, a long time after Beomgyu finished cleaning. During that time, Beomgyu dug through the bedside cabinet and found a poetry book and a condom. Unlike the brand new condom, the book seems to have been used quite a bit. This discovery was not only ironic but mysterious. Beomgyu threw his head down in laughter. Yeonjun seemed like the type to use a condom more than once a week but not the type to ever pick up a poetry book.
Beomgyu did not ask Yeonjun, who just got back from showing, where he was today. He was too busy laying face-down on the bed writing up his bucket list. Before he dies, there were a few things he wanted to try. Yeonjun towel dried his hair while staring at Beomgyu’s backside. His shirt had lifted slightly, exposing one side of his waist and he was, indeed, quite thin. Yeonjun, who was putting on a t-shirt asked Beomgyu.
“Did you clean this?”
He seemed to be talking about the cigarette ash cemetery. Beomgyu responded while chewing on his jellies.
“Yeah.”
“For what?”
“For myself.”
It was true. He didn’t really care if Yeonjun’s lungs filled up with cigarette ash or car exhaust but his own headache was a very serious matter. Yeonjun threw another cigarette in his mouth.
When Yeonjun approached the foot of the bed, Beomgyu moved closer to the wall, taking his notebook with him. When Yeonjun exhaled the smoke, Beomgyu silently reached at the window and opened it. Then before Yeonjun flicked his ash, he handed him one of his notebook papers.”
“Could you ash it on this?”
“I went through all that trouble of cleaning……. And if you’re going out tomorrow, could you bring home an ashtray? You dressing clean yet living like this is a bit difficult to deal with, coming from someone who lives with you.” Yeonjun looked at Beomgyu, whose bangs had grown so long they were covering his eyes and began laughing out loud. When Beomgyu first came here, he was so silent that it felt like he brought a stranded cat home. But recently he felt like he was living with a parrot with the way he’s been openly yapping all day long.
“By the way, do you know?”
Beomgyu turned to look at him instead of responding. Yeonjun continued.
“You remind me of a fuckin parrot.”
This time, he ashed his cigarette on the paper while wheezing. He just did what Beomgyu wanted him to do. Beomgyu was taken aback and asked with a shocked face. “How did you know? I used to have a parrot a long time ago.” “Where?” “In Korea.” While listening, Yeonjun came and laid down next to Beomgyu.
“What was his name?”
“……. Toto.”
“Toto?”
Beomgyu nodded. Yeonjun stared at him for a while then snapped his finger. “Okay, then I’ll start calling you Toto from now on.” Before he even finished talking, Beomgyo got up.
“No, I don’t like that.”
“Why don’t you like it Toto?” “How am I Toto?” “You’re Toto because you’re Toto.” Yeonjun put his head down to muffle his laughter. You could hear muffled wheezing coming through. He didn’t even ask him his full name and gave him a stupid nickname instead. Not only that, he was about to suffocate himself from laughing too hard. Beomgyu strongly refused.
“I will never be called Toto!”
“Ugh why.” “If you call me Toto, I’m gonna call you old man!” Yeonjun looked at him nonchalantly with half opened eyes. “Do what you want.” “No, actually I think I’ll call you a prick.” “That’s fine.” “Yaishh! You pervert!” “Oh, nice one.” Beomgyu kicked his feet around in frustration. “Ahh!! You’re so stupid!!!” “Ahh this is the best!!” Yeonjun was laughing so hard he could’ve passed out. He was curled up in a ball.
“I’m not gonna be Toto!!”
Beomgyu finally yelled after rolling around steaming. “Why do you hate being called Toto so much?” “Of course I don’t want to be called that. I’m not a parrot!” “Didn’t you know? You talk even more than a parrot.” “Whatever the reason, I’m never gonna be called Toto!” Yeonjun pretended to be shocked at such a strong response.
“Really?”
“Yes really. Why would I be joking?”
Yeonjun put on an empathetic face and put his cigarette out. “I didn’t know you’d dislike it so much……. I’m sorry.”
“Hey Toto.”
Beomgyu, whose lips were already pouty, threw the blanket on himself and hid under it. “Toto, are you mad at me?” The blanket shook as a response. He was kicking it as hard as he could. “Toto you’re kind of scary when you’re mad.” Yeonjun, who was lying on his side, saw something near the head of the bed. It was the bucket list. While stealing some gummies, he skimmed through the list. There was a list of around 10 things that spanned from catching a fluffy cloud to realistic things. Suspicious at Yeonjun’s silence, Beomgyu yelled out. “What are you doing!?” Yeonjun said while reading through the list. “You seem to have a lot of things you wanna do.” Beomgyu who realized what was happening, reached out his arm, snatched the paper away like a great white shark and went back into his blanket.
“Why did you read without asking?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“Don’t play with me.” “I’m not playing with you.” Beomgyu, growing tired of Yeonjun’s rebuttals, put his face close to his. He looked like he wanted to hit Yeonjun just one time.
“So when can you kill me?”
“.......”
“I’ll be really busy if I want to do all of that.”
Yeonjun blinked slowly. He didn’t want to risk the 500 million. That and he didn’t want to get punched.
“Hey Toto.”
“I told you I’m not Toto.”
“Hyung is gonna do some important work soon.”
‘So?”
Yeonjun pushed his hair back in deep thought. It was half a year anyway. It was likely going to be over before then but that was the amount of time he and Park Dong-Jae agreed on. Yeonjun laughed again.
“Are you busy around Christmas?”
At this point, his gentle demeanor was less of a habit but more of an illness. He was scheduling death like it was a date. “How am I gonna wait that long?” “Why can’t you wait? You don’t work and you don’t go to school.” Beomgyu grew increasingly irritated at his tone. He kicked the blanket off of himself. “What’s it to you? And I don’t want to die on the same day as Jesus." Yeonjun didn’t even budge. “Do you hate Jesus?" Beomgyu slammed his notebook closed. “Well I don’t ‘like’ him.” His excuses were varying and numerous. He didn’t want to do it on a day the payer didn’t want, he was getting paid for this after all. Yeonjun thought about it genuinely. He asked Beomgyu with a serious look on his face.
“How about October?”
It was about to be July so it was around 3 months from now. “I could do it for you tomorrow if I could but I’m not able to do those kinds of things right now.” “What kind of things?” “Bad things.” Unexpectedly, Yeonjun had a pretty clear line between good and evil. It was just the belief that Evil wins against Good and the only thing that beats Evil is money that was the issue.
Yeonjun thought about his next meeting with Park Dong-Jae while looking at Beomgyu who was deep in thought. Truthfully, killing him tomorrow would be impossible for him too. Since he’s a scaredy cat who doesn’t want to be stabbed, shot nor sawed, there was only one option left. Drugs. Yeonjun was going to ask Park Dong-Jae about some Purple or Midazolam. The first is a drug and the second one is a tranquilizer, words say someone who mixed the two died as if he was falling asleep. When you thought about the ingredients of both, that sounded about right. Maybe if things went right for Yeonjun, he could’ve been a successful pharmacist.
The conversation ended with Beomgyu accepting the arrangement. Yeonjun continued diligently calculating in his head. “Let's pick a day to go pick up another suitcase.” Beomgyu snarled at such a sudden offer. “What are you talking about?” Yeonjun mumbled with his eyes closed. “You said before you have two of those suitcases.” “So what?” “What did that currency exchange shop guy do? Tried to rip you off on processing fees right? ……. Right now, just one suitcase will barely cover Toto’s meals.” Yeonjun sounded like a cult leader saying that. He was good at empathizing and convincing. Of course, Beomgyu was still in his teens, full of rebellion.
“I’ll give that to you in October.”
“Why.”
“Who knows if you’ll run away if I give you everything now?”
First he begs to sleep here for one night and now refuses to pay what he promised. For someone who looks so dull, he was pretty good at securing his plate. Yeonjun was reminded of the day his father got buried while looking at Beomgyu clinging on him. He was once like that too. As if reading his thoughts, Beomgyu walked away from the bed and pulled something out of a paper bag. It was a calendar.
“I said October, just to be clear.”
Yeonjun nodded at Beomgyu’s confirmation. As soon as he got the nod, he began counting down on his calendar. Then he tore off a little more than half a year from it. Beomgyu opened up the last page and marked it “D-day”. He drew a heart too. A lovely death count. He then tippy toed and hung the calendar up on the wall behind the TV. Yeonjun continued observing, leaning crooked on the head of the bed. He looks self conscious but does what he wants in the end. Sometimes he just deals with situations by throwing a fit but that’s still doing what he wants. He’s like that. For some reason, Yeonjun found this nameless skinny boy a mystery. At times he was predictable but other times, it was bleak. Beomgyu who could feel the stare turned back. After staring at each other for a bit, Beomgyu reached up and tore a page off.
-
Spring is coming. Caterpillars are appearing. The small bird is eating bugs. Spring is coming again. Kids are going to school. Wild dogs are laying pups.
The way to the cathedral was peaceful. Goats walked around and little boys playing catch were singing german nursery rhymes. The scene of spring’s song spreading through the island with only summers. There was a rumor that the missionary was from Germany. Yeonjun only walked in the shade and hummed. The breeze blew through his loose Hawaiian shirt.
Yeonjun paid tithe again. More than usual at that. A bastard who doesn’t even know how to perform the Sign of the Cross was trying to make deals with god. ‘Please let me go to Hawaii. I want to live in paradise. Please.’ Honestly, as long as you had Flakka and a bag to store money, god wasn’t all that powerful. You could buy heaven in cash. The light reflected off the stained glass fell on his head. Yeonjun opened his eyes and took a deep breath. The cathedral smelled nice that day.
While Yeonjun was trying to buy heaven with money, Beomgyu was rummaging through the TV cabinet. After experiencing the thrill of finding condoms and a poetry book, he grew to enjoy going through other people’s stuff, calling it cleaning.
Today, he found a VHS tape. In the way back of the cabinet, there was a VHS player as well. The VHS was missing a label so it was impossible to predict what was on it. From the way it looked it could be porn for all you know. Beomgyu turned on the TV and carefully pressed play.
The first thing that played a black screen. Then it was a Black anchorman. He was saying a bunch of things in English and the subtitles were in Spanish. He couldn’t understand anything. Beomgyu tapped his back a few times and laid down on Yeonjun’s pillow. This time, it was a gas station. Some guys in a fancy convertible get in a shootout leaving some dead and some alive. The survivors went over to a man. Maybe it was the final boss, but he was certainly the most handsome. He was wearing a flower patterned shirt, similar to what Yeonjun’s been wearing recently. The guy’s face seemed familiar to Beomgyu. A moment later, when the guy pulled a gun out, a gasp escaped Beomgyu’s mouth. It was Dicaprio. After that, the title appeared in the middle of the screen with a bold font. Romeo and Juliet. It was a well-used, old VHS with bad resolution.
Beomgyu took four days to finish the film. During that time, Romeo shot guns, smoked cigarettes, kissed Juliet who looked like an angel and later, died. It was suicide. He was listening to the ending song until the credits ended. Unsure what he found so touching but it was the wrong timing. He suddenly heard someone outside.
Beomgyu sat up in shock. He accidentally came face to face with Yeonjun who was returning home.
“....... What are you doing?”
Yeonjun’s eyes quickly scanned through Beomgyu who was clearly frozen in shock. He was sitting up like a meerkat. Beomgyu suddenly couldn't find words to say. He didn’t know how to explain so he just made a bunch of hand motions. Yeonjun, who was listening, turned his eyes towards the TV. Baz Luhrmann. The ending credits ended with the director's name.
“Just make this your home from today on I guess.”
Yeonjun started laughing when he realized what was going on. ‘He’s digging through stuff like he owns it.’ Beomgyu awkwardly got off the bed and turned off the TV.
“So, was it good?”
Yeonjun took his shirt off and changed into a comfortable tracksuit. He didn’t seem upset, more like flabbergasted. Beomgyu sat for a while then responded that it wasn’t bad. ‘If it was good then say that, what's “not bad”? Yeonjun, who was gonna go shower after bantering a bit, suddenly furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, what’s up with this?” Yeonjun’s pillow was left at the foot of the bed, flattened like dough. It was due to Beomgyu folding it in half and laying on it for a long time. “Uh??” Yeonjun looked at the pillow then Beomgyu, then back at the pillow. Frightened by his irritated tone, Beomgyu quickly hid the pillow behind him. He kept his mouth shut with a look on his face he only makes when he’s in trouble. When Yeonjun tried to yank the pillow away, he turned his body then rolled to the inside of the bed with it. “Ah, really! I’ll give you my pillow then! You’re so mean.” He responded boldly for someone guilty. Yeonjun gave up on saying anything else. “They’re both my pillows, you wimp.” His head hurt.
Yeonjun smelled like water after showering. When his hair dried, he also smelled like the sun. Maybe his body temperature is higher than average. Beomgyu would think to himself at this time of the night while breathing on the bed.
“Here.”
Beomgyu, who was munching on his leftover gummies, handed his pillow over. Yeonjun ignored him. “No thanks.” He said while reaching for the pillow Beomgyu hid. His words were slightly slurred due to the cigarette in his mouth. The night was approaching. It had been quite a while since they began sleeping next to each other like this. Beomgyu swallowed his sweetened spit and asked.
“Did you buy the ashtray?”
Yeonjun quietly responded while Beomgyu opened the window.
“Ah, sorry.”
“.......”
“I forgot.”
Beomgyu put on an angry face and tore off another page from his notebook for him. “Why do you keep forgetting.” He asked on the day he cleaned the ash cemetery, so it had been two weeks. The notebook was looking skinny due to using too many pages for ashing. Tired of Beomgyu’s continued nagging, Yeonjun put out the cigarette he just lit. “Toto is starting up again……. Fine, I’ll definitely buy it tomorrow.” He grabbed some gummies from Beomgyu as some sort of petty payback. The tropical breeze flew in and out from the cracked window. Beomgyu quietly turned off the lights.
Yeonjun ,who was staring at the ceiling eating gummies, looked really tired for some reason. Honestly, it makes sense. He went all around town and met up with the sketchy looking group of men too. All his old clients. Yeonjun promoted his new product and added some samples of Flakka to a few of the bags of coke. “It’s some new shit from overseas and it’s very popular.” He didn’t forget the marketing slogan. He could be a successful insurance seller in Korea with those skills.
Beomgyu glanced at Yeonjun who was being swept away by exhaustion, His half open and down-turned eyes reminded him of those drug sniffing dogs. A strange, no, crazy dog who liked cocaine more than people. Yeonjun asked Beomgyu who was quietly giggling to himself.
“What’s so funny?”
“.......”
“Have you been happy lately?”
Beomgyu replied in his head. ‘Being happy and something being funny aren’t the same thing. A Buddha doesn’t even know that?” When he looked back at Yeonjun, he was already asleep. It was probably good that he fell asleep early for his day tomorrow. He had to head to Havana first thing in the morning. Once every other month, he had an important thing to do. “For sure bring an ashtray home tomorrow, okay?” Beomgyu asked, knowing he wouldn't get a response. There was something about Yeonjun’s sleeping face that made Beomgyu feel strange. He wasn’t innocent but he still looked like it and he was still so young. Like other nights, Beomgyu closed his eyes after Yeonjun fell asleep then began a very personal prayer.
“Please don’t die before me.”
The sound of Yeonjun’s breathing lingered near his ear.