Runner-up's Revenge

“You’re slowing us down!”

Startled, Dowon hastily grabbed the materials waiting for him on the conveyor belt and moved them. He could feel the nearby workers clicking their tongues and glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Get your act together. You’re a nuisance.”

The factory supervisor gave Dowon a cold look, muttering something under his breath. The same people who had just told him to work quietly were now whispering amongst themselves and shooting glances at him.

They’re talking about me.

As Dowon looked at the objects moving along the conveyor belt, he thought to himself that he had really chosen the wrong part-time job.

Why is my brain so full of pointless thoughts?

The job didn’t require any special skills, but that was why his mind was in chaos. While frantically trying to match the pace of the other workers, Dowon kept thinking about his phone screen, which hadn’t shown any new messages or calls.

He felt like his fate was no different from the materials moving along the conveyor belt. Actually, that was too generous—he wasn’t even like these items, because they had value. At least they got packed up and shipped off to be sold, which was more than he could say about himself.

Dowon saw himself as a defective piece, left alone on the conveyor belt, destined to fall to the floor without anyone caring.

I only have Hana.

If anyone was going to help him back to his feet, it would be Hana. His father had run away, and his mother lay bedridden, waiting for him to accomplish a goal he may never reach. With no strength to escape the conveyor belt of his life, the only person who had ever been there for him was Hana.

But what if Hana abandons me?

He watched a worker ruthlessly toss aside defective products. Dowon thought about the life he lived before Hana, when everything seemed hopeless.

He hadn’t been able to get up, eat, or shower. He couldn’t even die. All he could do was stare at the ceiling and try to figure out where everything had gone wrong.

The more clearly he pinpointed where things had gone off track, the heavier his heart grew, and the more impossible sleep became. He remembered that time all too well.

I can’t live without Hana.

If Hana left him, he would go back to that dark place. Despite the knowledge that dying would be better, he had been too paralyzed by despair to take his own life.

Hana was the only thing that kept him going. The thought of cleaning her house, cooking her meals, and helping her was what motivated Dowon.

“If you’re going to leave, sign this first.”

He had seriously thought about signing the marriage registration form Hana had handed him. He loved her, and if they could get married, he would have done it. The only reason he held back was his fragile pride.

He wanted to fix all these problems and become someone worthy of Hana before proposing properly.

He didn’t want their marriage to be the result of an impulsive decision, brought on by mania and misunderstanding. He wanted it to be something more meaningful. Maybe it wasn’t just pride—it was his selfish desire.

Was she even being genuine?

Had Hana offered the marriage registration form because of her mental state? Hana was the most beautiful, kind, gentle, and warm person Dowon had ever met. Her current condition was holding her back, but if she got better, she could do anything.

Why would someone like that want to be with him? Wasn’t it all because of her illness? If she fully recovered, she might see Dowon for who he really was and run away.

So, if Hana were to stay…

Dowon’s hands slipped, and the object he was holding fell. He hadn’t even realized his grip had loosened. He quickly looked around, but the workers who usually gave him a hard time had all gone out for a smoke break. The shift was almost over.

What am I even thinking?

A horrible thought crossed his mind. If Hana were to stay mentally ill, would that mean she would keep loving and depending on him forever? Dowon felt like burying his face into the conveyor belt. No matter how desperate he was, how could he think something so vile?

“You did well today.”

The supervisor, not even bothering to look in Dowon’s direction, mumbled the quick compliment and left the factory. Dowon sat in the locker room, holding his phone, deep in thought. There were no messages from Dahye or Hana. The empty phone screen stared back at him.

She told me not to come.

Hana was trying to gradually stop depending on him. She was trying to do everything on her own. Dowon also knew that Hana couldn’t handle everything by herself all at once.

But… what if she did actually manage to live without him?

That was a thought he couldn’t bear.

Dowon: Hana, today I—

He stopped typing. He wasn’t going to visit her today.

***

“Hana…”

Dowon sat in the dark, his lights off, staring at his phone screen. It was his second day of working at the factory, and he had used his exhaustion as an excuse not to visit Hana.

In truth, he hadn’t even made up an excuse. He simply hadn’t called her or gone to see her.

He lay there as the guilt crawled across his body, imagining Hana lying on the floor, doing nothing. His remorse wasn’t for some noble reason, like thinking it was better for Hana if he didn’t visit her.

“By now…”

He imagined Hana waiting for him, lying there on the floor, doing nothing but waiting. No, Dowon hadn’t cut contact with her for her sake.

He imagined Hana unable to do anything without him, trash bags piling up in the house. And with each trash bag he mentally added to the heap, a mix of guilt and satisfaction collected in Dowon’s heart.

“…So why isn’t she contacting me?”

Even though she must be struggling, there was no message from Hana. Normally, she would text every day, and if Dowon didn’t come, she would send a frustrated message.

“Is she really doing everything on her own?”

Had Hana really become independent? Dowon nervously chewed at the skin around his fingernails.

Hana…

By the third day, Dowon had taken to anxiously staring at his phone screen. Instead of going home, he wandered the streets, waiting for Hana to contact him. Still, there was no message or call from her.

Finally, Dowon stood up from the bench he’d been sitting on and made his way to Hana’s place.

“…Hana.”

As soon as Dowon opened the door to Hana’s apartment and inhaled the warm, stuffy air, he felt as if all his fears melted away.

“Hana, are you okay?”

Just as he had imagined, the apartment was overflowing with trash, and Hana was lying face down on her bed. Her cheeks were sunken, and she looked awful, as if she hadn’t eaten or showered in days.

The air was hot and stale, the TV was off, and the only light in the room came from the screen of Hana’s phone, still open to the last message from Dowon.

As soon as Hana heard Dowon’s voice, her shoulders trembled. Not wanting to startle her by suddenly turning on the light, Dowon searched through the trash for the remote and turned on the TV. A serious-faced news anchor was reporting the latest breaking news.

“Hana, look at me.”

Usually, Dowon would silently clean her room and ventilate the place, understanding Hana’s lethargy. But today, for some reason, he wanted to push her to get up.

Hana weakly lifted herself from the bed, assisted by Dowon.

The blue light from the TV flickered across Hana’s face. Her expression was filled with anxiety as if the tension from the news channel had seeped into her.

“Hana, you haven’t eaten, have you? I’ll clean up and make you something to eat. Let’s have some food, okay?”

Hana stared into space, blinking rapidly. Her eyes, like those of a broken doll, struggled to focus until they finally met Dowon’s. Tears quickly welled up in her eyes.

She probably hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, but tears poured ceaselessly from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she gasped. “I don’t know why I’m like this… I’m sorry, Dowon…”

Her reaction brought him careening back to reality. He laid her back down and pulled the blanket over her. Then he began to clean the room, bit by bit.

“I should be the one saying sorry, Hana. I should’ve come earlier.”

Hana turned her back to him, facing the wall, and continued to cry. Maybe she didn’t want him to see her crying, or maybe she didn’t want to watch him clean her room. Dowon just kept his head down, focusing on clearing the floor as more of it became visible.

The only sounds in the room were the rustling of trash bags and Hana’s muffled sobs.

Dowon had to bite the inside of his lip to keep himself from smiling.

***

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Dahye. You’re even more beautiful in person. Honestly, I’m very pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that to flatter me. You must have been on a lot of blind dates.”

“But this is actually my first one meeting someone like you.”

Bullshit.

Dahye smiled politely as she cut her pasta into tiny pieces with her fork. Crushing the pasta was more fun than engaging in conversation with the guy across from her.

“How’s work at Hanban Bank? It must be pretty impressive, especially for a woman.”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s fine. Yeah, getting in was a bit tough.”

“You’re smart and beautiful. You’d make the perfect wife.”

“Wow, that’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

It really was the first time. No one had ever called her “wife material” upon first meeting her.

The man sitting on the opposite side of the table was a well-dressed, good-looking guy with a stable job at a stable company. For a last-minute blind date, Dahye thought he was pretty decent—until he opened his mouth.

He was dreadfully boring and full of preconceived notions. Even forcing herself to smile was becoming tiresome.

Taking advantage of a pause in the conversation, Dahye glanced at her phone. She had agreed to dinner after work because it was nearby and convenient, but this was infinitely duller than talking to Dowon.

I would’ve called him by now if I wasn’t stuck here.

Dahye stared at her phone screen, where no messages awaited her. That was no surprise—she had always been the one to call or text him.

He must be loving this. That bastard.

Dowon must have been so comfortable lately, without having to listen to Dahye’s complaining. Her stress was piling up, and she was feeling even more suffocated. Even going on blind dates wasn’t doing anything to ease her loneliness, and she had yet to meet a single guy she found interesting.

“Dahye, are you bored?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, what did you say?”

Dahye blinked innocently, feigning a pleasant expression. The man awkwardly brushed it off and resumed his monologue about how amazing his job was and how difficult his work life was in the same breath.

I’m dying of boredom here, and that jerk is probably relaxing at Hana’s house with his legs stretched out.

Dahye’s jaw muscles tightened as she clenched her teeth. Everything felt unbearably boring.