It was a winter morning when he entered the chicken restaurant, shivering with nervousness. The owner, who was preparing raw chicken with a sports video playing on his smartphone, looked up.
‘The store isn’t open yet.’
‘Uh, no, that’s not it.’
Lee Young-jin stuttered several times because he was so nervous.
‘I heard you were looking for part-time help. So, I came. Have you already found someone?’
‘Ah…’
The owner scanned Lee Young-jin from head to toe.
‘Do you have a resume?’
‘Re, re, resume?’
Not having considered the need for a resume, Lee Young-jin’s face flushed from the tips of his hair to the edge of his chin, barely visible above the scarf wrapped around his neck.
‘Looks like you don’t have one. Have you ever worked part-time before?’
‘No, no, it’s my first time.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twen, twenty-two.’
‘Ah. A university student?’
When Lee Young-jin shook his head, the owner gestured for him to sit.
‘Sit here. Not a student, so you can work on weekdays too, right?’
‘Yes, yes! I can work anytime.’
‘How long can you work?’
‘Anytime…’
‘For a long time?’
Lee Young-jin nodded vigorously. The owner looked at him somewhat skeptically but said nothing.
‘When can you start?’
‘I can start right away, now.’
His tongue tied because he spoke too quickly. When Lee Young-jin stuttered at the end of his sentence, the owner slightly laughed.
‘Then come from tomorrow. Bring your ID tomorrow. And, leave your contact information here before you go.’
Lee Young-jin also precisely remembers how fast his heart was beating at that moment. It must have been at least three thousand beats per minute.
It was his first respectable job.
He promised himself thirty-eight times on the bus ride home that he would work hard, not to disappoint his Teacher or uncle. He vividly remembered how his heart swelled with pride to the point of feeling nauseous, how the world seemed to brighten as the noon sun rose quickly whenever the bus stopped, and how the clouds cleared away.
Unable to wait, he bought two packs of gum from an old man selling them on the subway on his way to Teacher’s house without even making an appointment.
When he conveyed that he might not be able to help Teacher now that he had a good job, Teacher looked a bit perplexed but was as happy for Lee Young-jin’s first job as if it were his own.
He still remembers what Teacher said, patting him on the shoulder.
‘Now Young-jin has grown up too.’
He said with a smile on his faintly wrinkled lips.
‘Life is a zero-sum game. As much as you’ve struggled, good things will happen. Come here. Let’s have a meal together; it’s been a long time.’
His words were true.
The total amount of happiness and unhappiness is zero, so a plus in one aspect leads to a minus in another.
For instance, the minus that balanced out the pluses from the morning and afternoon happened when Lee Young-jin returned to his small monthly rental room in Geumcheon-gu that night.
Lee Young-jin remembers the unhappiness of that day as vividly as its happiness.
He remembers how many people climbed on top of him as he was pushed onto the bed, the sound of the camera, the panting breaths and the noise between his flailing legs, and the laughter of those watching.
‘Hey, hey, let go of his arm.’
‘Are you crazy? This is a defective omega.’
‘No. They said this one’s not even a proper omega, won’t be able to resist properly.’
‘Turn the camera this way for a sec. Wait. Yeah, that angle’s good.’
‘When will we ever get to have an omega?’
Their laughter lasted for three hours and twenty-seven minutes. The time 03:27:59 was clearly visible on the bottom right of the camera footage.
Someone slapped his wet cheek lightly and said,
‘Are you dead?’
‘A defective omega wouldn’t die from this.’
‘Shut up for a sec. Hey, hey. You hear me?’
The camera wobbled in front of him. Lee Young-jin saw it through a vision blurred and fogged like a window soaked with rain.
‘If you want this back, bring money. Money. You got it?’
In such a situation, he inevitably turned to his teacher again.
Teacher looked at Lee Young-jin, who was shivering with his head bowed, for a long while without saying a word, then got up and left. Lee Young-jin sat blankly on the cold living room sofa until dawn broke and twilight brightened.
Teacher returned when the sun rose.
He lightly placed his hand on Lee Young-jin’s shoulder.
‘Young-jin.’
Lee Young-jin lifted his head.
Teacher’s face appeared pale and blurred, so it was still unclear what expression he was wearing.
‘I’ve paid the money for now. But the amount was unexpectedly high, so…’
Teacher’s voice trailed off.
‘We’ve put the rest as a debt, and we’ve agreed to pay it off bit by bit. They said they’d return the video once it’s fully paid, so let’s work hard together.’
‘I, I, I, will, work. Anything to…’
‘What was your new job’s hourly wage again? It seems like it would be best to help me out a bit more for the time being and start paying off the debt.’
‘Yes, yes. I’ll, I’ll do that.’
Lee Young-jin bowed his head again.
Thus, Lee Young-jin was burdened with a debt of 2.5 billion won, and after three years, it had only reduced to 2.345 billion won but did not disappear.
“Did that bastard film it?”
The gently posed question pulled Lee Young-jin back to reality.
Lee Young-jin hastily lifted his head.
Seo Seung-hyun was looking at him.
His slender eyes, long and narrow, were as black and cold as steel, yet his lips curled up in a smirk.
Lee Young-jin gasped for air through his nose and shook his head vigorously.
“No, it’s not like that. Teacher… he, that is, to buy it back from those bad guys… so that money, I have to pay it back…”
“Ha ha!”
Seo Seung-hyun let out a short laugh.
“2.5 billion?”
He laughed again.
“Let’s see. Even at twenty million per episode, that’s at least a hundred and twenty episodes.”
Lee Young-jin’s eyes widened. He shook his head again and again.
“No, no……”
As he shook his head, his eyes began to sting increasingly, heat rushing to his face, making it difficult to breathe. No, it’s not like that. It’s not like that. Lee Young-jin murmured quietly.
His head felt like it was about to explode.
‘He saw it.’
He despondently dropped his gaze to his feet.
‘He saw everything.’
The 3-hour, 27-minute, 59-second video.
The record of the moment when the sum of happiness and unhappiness in his life returned to zero.
Perhaps this is the beginning of another minus.
Maybe the minus equal to the plus that Seo Seung-hyun provided by holding him on the train, bringing him back here, sharing his body heat all night, and kissing him repeatedly is starting now.
Seo Seung-hyun tilted his head, staring at Lee Young-jin.
The tip of his neatly trimmed index finger tapped, tapped on the metal table surface.
He seemed to be waiting for something, yet it was clear his patience was not long.
His thick eyebrows twitched.
His eyes narrowed, and the ends of his eyebrows shot up.
He spat out curtly at Lee Young-jin.
“Why are you just standing there looking?”
Just as Lee Young-jin’s breathing hastened, wondering if this meant he should leave immediately, Seo Seung-hyun spoke again.
“Isn’t it about time you cry and beg me for help?”
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