Delusional Love

After Jieun and Yoonwoo finished washing up, they found the table set with white rice, spicy bean sprout soup with dried pollock, and fried eggs.

“I’m sorry for getting upset earlier. Let’s eat and settle your stomachs,” Hyerim said, her earlier anger gone.

Yoonwoo and Jieun thanked Hyerim for breakfast before sitting down. The bean sprout soup tasted far better than the hasty version Yoonwoo used to make in high school. The refreshing, savory broth seemed to ease their headaches and dizziness.

Throughout the meal, they apologized to each other: Hyerim for losing her temper, Jieun for sleeping on Yoonwoo’s arm, and Yoonwoo… well, he felt ashamed but didn’t know how to express it. He knew he must have done something wrong, yet couldn’t remember anything. Even this breakfast felt like another debt, but he couldn’t figure out to whom or how much.

Yoonwoo had mentioned giving Jieun notes worth 30,000 to 50,000 won. After subtracting the 15,000 won he owed her, he might still be in debt. But he couldn’t recall the night at all, not even leaving the restaurant.

He’d even slept in Jieun’s bed for no apparent reason. Something must have gone wrong with him. Should he count the overnight stay too?

As the soup settled his stomach, his discomfort grew. Yoonwoo bowed his head, muttering apologies for his memory lapse. But Jieun kept insisting, “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay. I should’ve been more careful.”

Had he really not gone home and ended up in a female senior’s bed without reason?

Whenever Yoonwoo asked about what he’d done, Jieun’s response was the same: “You didn’t do anything. You just went for a walk to sober up and somehow ended up here.”

Yoonwoo wanted to know what “somehow” meant. How had he, who’d never spent a night at someone else’s place in twenty years, suddenly ended up in her bed? But Jieun seemed reluctant to discuss it further, changing the subject whenever he brought it up.

Had he behaved shamefully or said something inappropriate? No matter how hard he tried, his memory didn’t return; only his headache intensified. Yoonwoo just wanted to vanish from Jieun and Hyerim’s sight.

“Yoonwoo, I made some mistakes after drinking yesterday… I’m sorry. Could I treat you and Hyerim to hangover soup for lunch?” Jieun said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m the one who should apologize for drinking too much, sleeping over, and even having breakfast here…”

“For the last time, it’s fine,” Jieun insisted. “I invited you to stay. You wanted to go home.”

“Wait, he wanted to go home, but you brought him here? That’s different from what I heard,” Hyerim interjected.

“Uh… It’s complicated. I’ll explain later.”

“You’d better.”

Seeing that Jieun wouldn’t elaborate, Yoonwoo decided to clean up and leave. He felt obligated to do the dishes since Hyerim cooked with Jieun’s groceries. Despite their protests, he insisted on doing them alone.

After tidying up, Yoonwoo packed his things, eager to escape. Jieun suggested watching a movie in the living room since he was there, but Yoonwoo declined, saying he felt dizzy and preferred to lie down at home. Even when Hyerim suggested they go together since they were headed the same way, Yoonwoo declined, claiming he was too dizzy to take the bus and would walk instead.

However, it was harder to refuse Hyerim than to refuse Jieun. When she said she would walk with him, he didn’t know what to say. How could he insist on going alone when he wanted to disappear from her sight?

In truth, Yoonwoo was anxious to check his phone. He wanted to do it alone, fearing his reaction might seem odd to others. He hadn’t contacted Rabbit last night since he passed out. Did she try to reach him? He was both eager and nervous to find out.

Bad moods breed bad situations. If Yoonwoo had been in his usual spirits, exchanging light messages with Rabbit, he likely would’ve asked Jieun to stop drinking earlier.

Yoonwoo felt ashamed of his emotional immaturity. He’d kept drinking out of fear that Rabbit wouldn’t contact him, hoping alcohol would numb his embarrassment and anxiety. Instead, it had consumed him entirely.

He now understood why people in mental health chat rooms mix alcohol with pills against doctors’ advice. Trying to escape his torment through drinking only led to more pain. How could he alleviate this new suffering? If he went home now and had even one more drink, he feared he’d end up like those people. Had he gone home in last night’s state, he might have immediately taken pills.

“Yoonwoo, I’m really sorry for yelling earlier,” Hyerim said as they began walking. “When I caught you lying about having a class… We’d promised not to lie to each other, and I thought you were breaking that promise. I just lost it… But you didn’t lie after all.”

“No, it’s understandable. And about Jieun… I’m really sorry. I don’t even remember what I did after drinking.”

“Ah… I need to work on my temper. Once I lose it, I can’t see anything else. I don’t listen to others… It’s embarrassing. I really won’t do that again.”

As they walked back together, they continued exchanging apologies. But Hyerim didn’t really need to apologize. People like her were respected regardless of whether their feelings were justified. The situation did warrant her anger, but even if it hadn’t, many would have taken her side.

Yoonwoo wondered how many people are truly free to express their anger. He hadn’t shown anger to anyone since fourth grade. Even if kids were badmouthing him loudly in the middle of class, he would pretend not to hear and stay silent. Reacting with anger wouldn’t have made any difference.

The world always seems divided into two sets: Yoonwoo, and everyone else. Groups of people could be cruel. To them, Yoonwoo’s burning heart and anger were just objects of ridicule.

Hyerim, you wouldn’t understand such a life.

Suddenly, Hyerim felt distant. When caught up in conversation with Jieun and Hyerim, Yoonwoo found it hard to think of anything else. But alone with Hyerim, he became acutely aware of how different their lives were. The difference was so stark that he didn’t even feel envious.

“So Yoonwoo, you’re coming to my place for dinner tonight, right?”

“Sorry, Hyerim, I’m just too dizzy today. I’d rather rest at home.”

“What about dinner? If you don’t eat, the alcohol won’t wear off.”

“I just ate your delicious breakfast. If I get hungry, I’ll grab something from the convenience store. I feel nauseous right now…”

“Well, guess I can’t force you. Take care of yourself. See you for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Thanks for today. See you tomorrow.”

After saying goodbye to Hyerim at Anam Station, Yoonwoo walked alone down Chamsari Road towards his studio. He’d been away for over 24 hours since his first period on Friday. His studio, left unheated all day, was chillingly cold. Yoonwoo turned on the heater and collapsed onto his bed to finally check his phone. Had Rabbit contacted him?

Yoonwoo saw one unread message. Filled with anticipation, he opened the app, but it was just a message from Hyerim sent the night before.

Rabbit had once told him he made an effort to see everything negatively. Yet reality always unfolded just as badly as he imagined, or worse.

Rabbit hadn’t contacted him.

He was exhausted. Even stirring up emotions took effort. Thinking of various scenarios, feeling anxious and sad, agonizing over his future—it all drained him. Just the thought of living like this for a few days had sapped his energy.

After the soup, fresh air, and rest, Yoonwoo had thought he was feeling better. But checking his phone brought back the dizziness and nausea. His head throbbed, his stomach churned, and he couldn’t stop dry heaving. Unable to bear it, he rushed to the bathroom and forced himself to vomit.

He spent a while retching. Once the refreshing taste of soup was gone, only sour bile remained. When nothing was left, Yoonwoo rinsed his mouth and flushed the toilet. Back in his room, Yoonwoo gulped water and impulsively swallowed a sleeping pill. It was the dose he should’ve taken the night before, so it wouldn’t cause issues now. Sleep was his happiest time; he didn’t have to think or even be aware of his existence.

Since it was now 11 a.m., if he slept through the evening after taking the medicine, he planned to take another dose of sleeping pills. That way, he could sleep for nearly a full day. If a serial killer or a robber entered his room and killed him while he slept, that would be ideal. He would continue this peaceful sleep without ever knowing he had died. But, with nothing of value in his room, it was unlikely a robber would come, so perhaps he should hope for a serial killer.

In the end, Yoonwoo didn’t wake from his sleep even as the sun set.

His phone vibrated noisily on the desk before falling silent. Darkness enveloped the room. He hadn’t bothered with the lights since crashing into bed that morning. Groggy from the medication, Yoonwoo checked the time. Thinking it was still night, he reached for another sleeping pill—a rare perk of his cramped studio.

As Yoonwoo reached out, he realized something. Hadn’t the notification sounded more than three times? Only one app on his phone did that—the voice chat app he used with Rabbit. Frantically, he opened it.

“Hello? Rabbit? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. Why do you sound so desperate?”

“I thought you might not contact me again…”

“I told you I wouldn’t do that,” Rabbit assured.

“That’s a relief. So, um… I blacked out while drinking. When I came to, it was dawn.”

“You spent the night out? With that senior?”

“Yeah… somehow…”

When Rabbit remained silent, Yonwoo felt the need to explain.

“Nothing happened, though. I blacked out, but… I don’t lose control when I drink. And my meds actually make me not in the mood for that kinda thing too…”

Rabbit hated people driven by lust. Yoonwoo feared she’d see him that way.

“You don’t need to explain so much, Tofu. TMI.”

“Sorry.”

“But did you enjoy drinking with her?”

“Well… the lamb skewers were tasty, and watching them grill automatically was interesting. But I drank too much…”

“You must have enjoyed her company to drink until you blacked out.”

“It was more because of anxiety.”

“About what?”

“I was worried… I couldn’t contact you again…”

“I told you not to worry about that. Was it really that troubling?”

“Yeah. It’s the most important thing to me.”

“So staying in touch with me is more important? Even though a pretty junior feeds you and a cute senior buys you drinks?”

“Of course. Keeping in touch with you is the most important thing to me.”

“You know, Tofu, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“I feel like my presence might actually be making your condition worse.”

“What? I don’t—”

“Maybe it would be better if I disappeared. Maybe you’d be happier without me? I’ve been feeling that way lately.”

“No, that’s not it at all. Why would you think that?”

“You’re so obsessed with dying together that you don’t see anything else. Maybe without me, you could enjoy life with your pretty junior and senior.”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“I’m trying to isolate you out of my own desire. I can’t control my selfishness.”

“You and those people are different. I only need you.”

“What sets them apart from me? I suppose I’m just uglier and more ill-tempered.”

“Those people would enjoy meeting anyone. They’re so good-looking they’d be happy just looking at themselves in the mirror. People line up to be with them, they’re respected everywhere… What’s the point of enjoying time with such people if I’ll just end up feeling foolish? But not you. I thought you were like me…”

“Why do you think you’d end up feeling foolish? You could be great friends.”

“Why rely on uncertainty when I have you, who’s agreed to die with me?”

“See? You think like that, so it’s better if I’m not around.”

“No, that’s not true. Those people would just go on enjoying their lives even if I died. They’d briefly mention, ‘I knew someone who committed suicide.’ That’s all I would be to them.”

“Tofu… you always think so negatively.”

“I’m not significant in their happy lives. I’m just an afterthought. But you said it wasn’t like that with you. You said you’d die with me. We have a truly deep connection.”

“Do you really believe they’d be happy if you were gone? They might even consider joining you if they knew your wish.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why? How can you know what’s in their hearts? You could be someone really important in their lives.”

“That’s not logical. Good-looking and pretty people always have someone who likes them. Even if they fail at relationships, tests, or business, there’s always someone ready to comfort and help them. Why would they throw away all those opportunities and choose to die?”

“Because they like you that much.”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“Why do you keep saying it’s impossible? It could happen.”

“Sure, like winning the lottery. Should I live hoping for that? That’s even more miserable.”

Yoonwoo could hear Rabbit’s quiet breaths over their call.

“I’m so tired, Rabbit… Expecting the impossible is too hard. Let’s stop talking about others. Isn’t dying together our happiness? Our love? Oh, if waiting three years is too hard for you… If that’s the case, I can… anytime you want…”

“Tofu, listen… Honestly…”

“Yes?”

“Honestly… I wish you wouldn’t die. Not in three years, not ever. I hope you live a long life until you die of old age.”

“Why are you saying this all of a sudden? What about all the things you said before?”

“That’s how I really feel. I really hope you don’t commit suicide and instead live a happy life.”

“Why? Why now? Our relationship was supposed to be—”

“Because I really like you, Tofu. Yoonwoo.”