Melting Slow

Yoo Hwan leaned lazily against the hotel lounge sofa.

“Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Yoo Hwan.”

“I’m Park Se-young. Nice to meet you. I’ve really been looking forward to today.”

She was the daughter of the former Foreign Minister, the sixth date partner that Chairman Yoo—his grandfather had forced him to take.

 She was so innocent that she blushed shyly at the mere mention of Yoo Hwan’s name. 

Yoo Hwan checked his wristwatch.

9 p.m.

Even though he had used work as an excuse to delay the meeting, Chairman Yoo’s persistence had pushed the date through, and Yoo Hwan clicked his tongue in frustration.

The old man and his stubbornness.

“Mr. Yoo Hwan, You come straight from work, didn’t you? I heard you’re always busy, and it seems to be true.”

“Yes. That’s why I was a bit late.”

“Oh, it’s okay. It’s not like you did it on purpose. Have you had dinner?”

“I was planning to eat when I get home.”

“Oh my, then why don’t you come out and join me, I had dinner earlier and could use another.”

“No, it’s late.”

“Oh, really, it’s okay… it’s a shame.”

Despite Yoo Hwan’s lack of enthusiasm, the woman’s eyes still sparkled with interest.

Yoo Hwan often wondered why.

Why would someone look at him with such innocent eyes, despite knowing the negative rumors about his history with women?

It had to be one of two reasons.

Either they dismissed the rumors as mere gossips, or they believed they could reform him.

If it was the former, it was tiresome naivety. If it was the latter, it was even worse.

Believing that you could change someone and save them—that was an arrogant delusion.

Such cliché stories were the fantasies you’d see in morning dramas.

People don’t change.

They may pretend, but they cannot alter their fundamental nature.

Just like his mother, who had tried so hard and clung so desperately, only to meet her end that way.

 A woman’s voice reached his ears as he was lost in thought. 

“-That’s why I often go to that flower garden on weekends. I recently donated to it… If you’re free, I’d love to see it.”

Yoo Hwan returned to reality seamlessly, smiling calmly as if nothing had happened.

***

Yeo-min walked quietly after leaving the hotel.

She wasn’t sure how she even managed to leave.

She lifted her head, and suddenly there was a bus stop in front of her.

A bus pulled up with a loud noise.

The sound of people getting on busily echoed around her.

On impulse, Yeo-min boarded the bus just before it departed.

The bus soon left.

Yeo-min lowered her head, staring at her knees.

Round droplets fell on the fabric of her skirt.

The tears she had barely been holding back had finally begun to fall.

She lowered her head even more deeply.

She didn’t want the other passengers to see her in such a pitiful state.

She covered her face with her long hair and felt more at ease. 

Yeo-min closed her eyes, watching raindrops trace down the bus window.

The sky had been cloudy since this morning. 

After lunch, when she looked up, the sky was gray, and she had thought it might rain…

Unfamiliar sounds echoed faintly from the world that had turned pitch black.

Some stops were bustling, others were quiet.

The bus itself was noisy.

Elementary school children chattered away, while an elderly woman complained to someone over the phone.

Then, suddenly, it grew quiet around her, and she looked up.

The bus had stopped on an empty deserted road.

It was empty, with only the bus driver and herself on board. 

“There’s just one stop left before the terminal. Where are you headed, miss?”

Yeo-min finally came to her senses, as if snapping out of a daze. Her vision was blurry, perhaps because her eyes were swollen.

“I’ll get off here, driver.”

She grabbed the bag that was sitting on her lap and stood up unsteadily. Without a word, the bus’s rear door opened.

As soon as Yeo-min stepped completely off the bus, it drove away.

Yeo-min looked around with a tired face. It was an unfamiliar neighborhood.

In the distance, she could see the half-lit sign of a shop, seemingly abandoned.

The light rain made the asphalt shimmer with moisture.

Though it wasn’t very late, the lack of people made the area feel deserted.

She didn’t know what to do.

Nor did she know where to go.

It felt like even if she were to disappear into the darkness here and now, she wouldn’t have any regrets.

She walked, almost in a trance, to a nearby convenience store and bought a can of beer.

Then, sitting blankly at the bus stop, she drank it.

A woman, crying on the street, drinking beer. She probably looked insane.

But she didn’t care.

The burn of alcohol down her throat sent a twinge of pain to her heart.

Being pushed away by someone, fading into meaninglessness—that wasn’t new to her.

She didn’t want to think of today as a particularly unlucky day.

It was just an extension of her usual, slightly-more-unfortunate-than-usual life.

‘That’s how it is. Really, that’s just how it is.’

Convincing herself as she took another sip.

The truth might be different, but believing it was as she wanted—another sip.

The can of beer was soon emptied, and Yeo-min followed the tracks of the cars on the road with her eyes. 

Then, at some point, an unfamiliar car stopped in front of the bus stop.

It was a conspicuously sleek, foreign sports car….What is this.

She was the only one at the bus stop, but she ignored it.

She figured someone had come to pick someone else up.

At that moment, a familiar voice came from beyond the rolled-down passenger window.

“Did you get lost or something?”

Yeo-min looked up in surprise.

Yoo Hwan.

She saw his familiar face.

Hurriedly, Yeo-min rubbed at her eyes.

She was worried there might still be some pitiful traces of her tears.

Her eyes felt hot, but thankfully, there were no tear tracks.

Yeo-min’s lips moved as if she had forgotten how to speak, and then she managed to say,

“Hello.” It was a rather formal greeting.

Yoo Hwan clicked his tongue softly.

“I already said hello when you left work. Why are you doing it again?”

“Oh, right. What are you doing here?”

“I was just passing by.”

“I got on the wrong bus and ended up here… Anyway, drive safe.”

Yeo-min gave a faint smile, leaning heavily against the backrest of the bus stop bench, looking as if she might collapse at any moment.

“See you tomorrow.”

She gave a weak wave, trying to send him off. But the car didn’t leave.

The blinker turned on, and the car pulled over to the side of the road with a thunk!

Soon, she heard the sound of the driver’s door opening and closing.

“Seriously, you’ve always bothered me” he muttered to himself, expressionless, as he stepped out of the car.

Yoo Hwan sat beside Yeo-min, crossing his long legs and leaning back against the bench.

After coming across the ridiculous melodrama of his company junior at the hotel lounge, he had somehow ended up here.

Yeo-min stared blankly at Yoo Hwan, who was sitting beside her.

Yoo Hwan, however, didn’t spare her a glance, instead staring straight ahead.

His handsome brow furrowed slightly, as if he was unhappy about something. 

The car lights flashed across his cold face and then went dark again.

He remained in thought, silent, until he slowly turned his head.

Their gazes met in the air.

Yeo-min watched as his calm eyes stared at her.

“Why does Chae Yeo-min live like this?” he asked, his voice unmoved by emotion. 

Yeo-min foolishly asked back, unable to quite grasp what he meant.

“Living like this?”

“You’ve always been like this. Never asking for help. Never showing you’re struggling.”

Always.

That word suddenly stabbed Yeo-min in the heart.

The only person who used to understand her heart like magic, without having to say anything, was sitting right next to her.

Even though he had pretended to have forgotten everything from their childhood…

“I do ask for help when I’m struggling.”

“Do you?”

“…Probably, I do.” 

“Hmm-“

With his arms crossed, Yoo Hwan looked at Yeo-min, his face caught between a smile and an expressionless stare.

Seeing that expression, Yeo-min had a vague sense of what it meant, and she mumbled quietly.

“You wouldn’t have given me a ride anyway.”

“What?”

“Just now, if you really wanted to give me a ride, you would have told me to get in from the start. But instead, you just teased me with your words. That’s why I didn’t bother asking.”

Yeo-min had never known how to lean on anyone. She didn’t expect such things from the world.

She had already experienced it enough in the past—to the point of exhaustion.

Even if you shout and plead, nothing changes.

Giving up and enduring—that had become her daily routine. It was something she had learned since she was young.

When she was still very young, during her adolescent years before she had completely learned to give up, there had been a time when she let her emotions burst out in a big way.

‘When did I ever steal it? How could I have taken your necklace? I didn’t even know you had it!’

Was she seventeen.

It was when she was falsely accused of stealing Chae Nari’s necklace.

There was no one around to take her side, and Chae Nari had only laughed at her as she tried to defend herself.

‘Didn’t know? You stared at that necklace so much the last time I wore it—did you think I wouldn’t notice?’

‘Why are you blaming me for losing it? Do you feel better pushing the blame onto someone else? Why do you do this!’

She poured out her pent-up frustration like a dam breaking, but there was no one on her side.

When their parents, alarmed, rushed in, Chae Nari suddenly burst into tears. That unexpected reaction made Yeo-min out to be nothing but a mean, cruel older sister.

“Chae Yeo-min! If you’ve done something wrong, apologize quietly! How dare you touch your sister’s things!”

“Yeo-min, go to your room and think about what you’ve done!”

She had to carry the burden of the misunderstanding as if it were her own crime.

Left alone amid the contempt of her stepmother and the scolding of her father, Yeo-min bore it all in silence.

The expression Chae Nari had worn as she looked at her from her father’s embrace was something Yeo-min would never forget, not even to her dying day.

That face, filled with wicked triumph.

After that, Yeo-min hid her emotions.

Every time she showed them, she ended up being painted as the aggressor. It was better to stay quiet and live silently.

Someday, once she started her own family, she could cut ties with these insufferable people.

She held on, waiting for that day.

After finishing her reminiscence, Yeo-min blankly looked up at the sky.

The dark sky was pitch black, without a single star. It seemed like the rain had stopped.

Yoo Hwan stood up.

He crushed the beer can that had been left beside Yeo-min and tossed it into the trash before standing under the streetlamp.

Sitting in his shadow, Yeo-min looked up at him dully.

“Let’s go.”

Yeo-min remained silent, her eyes still wet. Go. Where.

She didn’t know where she was supposed to go.

Even the very idea that she needed to go somewhere felt vague.

Am I supposed to go somewhere? 

Why? There’s nowhere that welcomes me, nowhere that wants me. Why?

Lost in her meaningless thoughts, Yoo Hwan spoke again.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

The cold night breeze rustled the branches and swept gently through his hair.

Yeo-min stayed silent, looking at Yoo Hwan standing at the edge of the shadows.

Under the pitch-black sky, he stood against the faint glow of the streetlamp, wearing a loose smile.

She wondered what he meant by her silence.

Still crossing his arms, Yoo Hwan slowly leaned closer.