Runner-up's Revenge

“I’m not going, I said I’m not going!”

Hana was screaming hysterically, wild eyes staring into nothingness.

“You want me to go home? Huh? You miss me that much?”

Her maniacal laughter echoed through the phone.

“I’m not coming home, unless it’s in an urn, Dad. If you call me again, I’ll bite my tongue off and bleed to death, so get used to it.”

Hana threw her phone at the wall without even ending the call. The phone clattered loudly as it hit the wall and floor.

“Die, die, die! Don’t ever call me again!”

As her screams bounced off the corners of her room, the phone screen went black. It seemed like he had hung up. Hana kicked a drawer and threw makeup at the mirror. She pulled all the clothes off the hanger, ripped them apart, and unleashed a wordless shriek.

“Hana, you’ll get hurt,” Dowon said, arms out in a steadying gesture. “Don’t do that.”

“I wish everyone would die, Dowon. Except you and me.”

Dowon grabbed both of Hana’s wrists and pleaded, “Let’s get your medication first, okay?”

“Let me go! I’m going to kill everyone!”

The whole house was a mess. He should have known from the moment she went into the room saying she had to take a quick call.

“Hana, come on. Let’s drink some water first.”

“Dowon, can we not do this and just go out for a bit? I feel like I’m suffocating. Want to go to a cafe? Watch a movie? Or play games? I—”

“After you take the meds, I’ll think about it.”

Hana shook his hands off her wrists and began muttering about her plans for their day.

Dowon barely managed to give Hana her medicine. Once he did, he watched her continue to think of places she wanted to go. Always frail and pitiful, Hana couldn’t even rely on her parents.

At least, until just a few days ago, that’s what Dowon had believed. He’d always found Hana fragile and helpless, and he genuinely enjoyed feeling needed in her life. He filled in where her parents did not. Recently, however, Dowon’s parents had handily overtaken Hana’s in the competition of child maltreatment.

“Hana, you’ll hurt your feet. Get on the bed for a minute.”

Dowon picked up the phone Hana had thrown. There were missed call notifications from her mom and dad. He put the phone in Hana’s drawer so she wouldn’t see them and blow up again.

At least her parents are still looking for her.

From the very first time he met Hana, he always heard the same thing: she had cut ties with her parents and would never see them again unless she returned as ashes in an urn.

Whenever he heard her say it, Dowon felt sorry for Hana. Dowon was also one of those people who felt trapped whenever he heard that ridiculous saying that blood is thicker than water and family ties are hard to sever.

But today, Dowon’s knees seemed glued to the floor as he contemplated Hana’s family dynamic. He sat still on the ground, staring at the mirror Hana had shattered.

She had a wealthy family that could afford everything she wanted to do. A family that could casually tell her to go study abroad if things were too hard here.

You just need to swallow your pride, that’s all.

The things that never bothered him before were suddenly pinning Dowon to the floor.

I can’t even run away from my parents if I wanted to.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Dowon’s head jerked up of its own volition.

You crazy bastard…

He shouldn’t blame Hana for his own circumstances. Hana had her own reasons. Even though he was in a more difficult and painful situation objectively, this anger shouldn’t be directed at Hana.

Pain couldn’t be quantified. Hana, in her own way, was struggling and suffering too—how could he even think such a thing?

Dowon shook his head quickly and looked around. There were tons of things to clean up. There was no time for his wallowing.

First the mirror…

He dragged his protesting knees towards the mirror and picked up the pieces one by one. There used to be a broom and dustpan, but it seemed Hana had broken them long ago. Thinking he should buy new ones after cleaning, Dowon continued gathering up the pieces.

As he was collecting the small pieces with his fingertips, he subconsciously clenched his fist.

A loud grunt of pain left his lips. A particularly large shard of the mirror had slipped through his fist. Red began to seep through the wound. Though the cut wasn’t deep, it was long, and blood was flowing steadily.

Droplets formed between the long red lines. Dowon quietly stared at Hana’s back, which didn’t move, even at his sound of pain.

He looked around himself at the collapsed rack, scattered clothes, broken mirror, sprawling drawers, and spilled flower pots. Dowon imagined he looked like another piece of broken furniture.

Dowon just wanted to neatly sweep all of this into a garbage bag and throw it away, himself included.

I just need to get this cleaned up.

He forced the ebbing self-pity back. He had to clean this room and go out to work again. He headed to the bathroom and washed his palm with water.

The water ran pink and swirled down the drain. Then, a vibration buzzed from his pocket.

Mom: Did you talk with Dad? He says he needs money, right?

Mom: I’ll cover half, don’t worry son

“They’re both acting insane, seriously…”

Dowon buried his face in his palms. He felt the warm blood mixed with water cling to his face.

“Don’t try to take responsibility for everything.”

Dahye’s voice echoed in his ears. Dowon removed his hands from his face. Faint splatters of blood had formed on his cheek and around his eye.

“Pull yourself together.”

Dowon shook his head as he wiped his face with a tissue. He prayed that Dahye’s voice, Hana’s family, his mother’s text, and anything else that caused him grief would fall off the face of the earth.

***

“Dowon, I’m sorry. I… I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Hana, now under the effect of the medication, apologized to Dowon again as tears rolled down her cheeks. Dowon just patted and stroked Hana’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry, so sorry… Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right? I didn’t hurt you again, did I?”

“No. Just get some sleep for now, Hana. Have you slept at all?”

“Dowon, are you really okay?” Hana asked, grabbing his arm. Dowon looked at Hana’s face very quietly for a long time, then nodded.

“I’m fine.”

Dowon made the face Hana liked. That smiling face as if everything was okay and she shouldn’t worry. But Hana couldn’t smile. She didn’t want to lie down on the bed.

Liar.

It took him too long to say he was okay. There was a shallow cut marking his palm. It could be mistaken for a natural crease at first glance, but there was no mistaking that it was a wound.

Why are you trying to put me to sleep? You can’t stand the sight of me? You don’t want to talk to me? Hana thought as she glared at Dowon’s stroking hand. Of course, after I made such a mess of the house, screamed, and got angry again, Dowon must hate me now.

Suddenly feeling like she might cry, she pulled the blanket up to cover her face.

But you’re different. Dowon, you’re different from other people. You’re supposed to take care of me and protect me forever. That’s what we agreed on.

Dowon looked at Hana for a moment, then headed to the kitchen. Hana’s anxiety rose higher and higher as Dowon’s footsteps grew distant.

Then go, get the hell out. Leave me behind. Just abandon me and find someone else who you can be happy with. Hana thought, biting the inside of her lip. Dowon’s footsteps stopped. Had he left the house? Hana suddenly sat up and threw off the blanket.

No. I’ll die without him. If he really leaves, I’ll die. I’ll die.

Hana flung herself out of bed in search of Dowon. He was in the kitchen, doing the dishes Hana had used. Seeing her up, Dowon wiped his hands on a towel and turned around.

“Hana, what’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

“Dowon.”

Hana draped her arms around Dowon’s neck. The sudden closeness made Dowon freeze. She could almost feel his breath brushing against her nose.

“…Hana.”

“Dowon, Dowon…”

Hana couldn’t voice her ugly feelings. If she did, she was sure Dowon would really leave. If she told him these feelings of wanting to let him go, yet wanting to hold onto him, and wanting to lock him up, it felt like this relationship would end completely.

But if she couldn’t express these feelings somehow, it might kill her. So Hana hugged him. Her lips brushed past Dowon’s neck.

“Hana, what’s wrong? Let go for a second.”

“Why?”

Hana’s weight unbalanced him, and he grabbed onto the sink. Hana moved closer until her face was almost touching his. She looked into his eyes, seeing her own reflection in them. This distance felt just right. She wanted to stay like this.

“Hana, that’s too… close.”

Hana could see the confusion flickering across his face as her lips nearly touched his. He seemed disconcerted and he gripped her shoulders, holding her at bay as he searched her eyes for an answer.

***

“You really haven’t tried it? What did you even do in college?”

“It looks disgusting. Does it actually taste good?”

“You only drink sweet alcohol, right? Then how have you not tried it? Not even the yuzu flavor? What about apricot flavor?”

“I haven’t tried any of it. Isn’t alcohol for getting drunk? Do you actually drink it for the taste?”

“Wow, you really don’t know anything. Dowon, what have you been doing all these years?”

Dowon was about to snap back, asking if drinking was something to brag about, but stopped. It had already been over 40 minutes since he started talking with Dahye. To be having such pointless conversations for 40 minutes felt strange to Dowon, as if they had become actual friends.

It wasn’t a conversation Dahye had started in an effort to seek comfort, nor was it a call to let Dowon talk about his own situation. Her call came at the usual time, but Dahye started asking trivial questions and bringing up small talk about nothing important.

Dahye and Dowon just spent 40 minutes talking about unique flavors of soju. Dahye was getting worked up over the fact that Dowon hadn’t tried any of them.

“Then let’s try them all later. There are so many good flavors these days. Did you know there’s even a mint chocolate one?”

“Can you even call that soju?”

“If the label on the bottle ends with the word “soju,” that’s all that matters. I think there was even a popping candy flavor or something like that.”

“Isn’t drinking that a punishment?”

Dowon couldn’t remember the last time he had such a pointless conversation. Even though he was taking a brief moment to talk before going to work, he didn’t feel rushed.

He didn’t feel anxious, or tired, or burdened. Dowon leaned against the wall after slapping a band-aid over the cut on his palm. Out of habit, he looked up at the mirror hanging in the living room of his house.

In the unbroken, intact mirror, Dowon was smiling.