Only Good To Me

There was something special about Seo Hangeon’s voice when he asked, “Where are you?” If that made my heart flutter, then his calling “Won-ah” blocked my prayers.— Won-ah.It had the power to clog up every breath I had. When I heard that word, I could reveal everything with a tender, muddled illusion of belonging to some 15th dimension. Sometimes, even without any sad events, I would choke back tears just because of that one word.— Won-ah.There was a time when I desperately wanted to hear that short phrase again.But now, I have completely forgotten Seo Hangeon.Twenty-eight. It’s been eight years since I last saw those broad, thick shoulders.I’m doing fairly well. There are some inconveniences in daily life, but from a macro perspective, I’m not much different from others.After my father passed away, there were some changes in my life. At the time of the accident, I was in the passenger seat, and while I suffered injuries requiring a steel rod in my knee and mild headaches, my father had to give his life to a 7-ton dump truck and gravity. If there had been no gravity, the 7-ton dump truck wouldn’t have crushed our car.The superiority of my father’s profession was powerless in front of gravity. It was meaningless in the face of time and the omnipotence of coincidence.I don’t remember the accident clearly. No sensory information, including physical pain, remains. Forgetting the details of the incident or experiencing sensory confusion is a common symptom in post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).I remember up until my father accelerated down the overpass. It was scary, like being on a roller coaster, and right after the car swerved and the steering wheel twisted, prisms of high intensity light shattered. It was an intense, blinding light.The tangled light and the world converged to one point, and I was sucked into it. It was all darkness. A space where there was no memory, no sensation, no others, not even myself. I floated there for days. I was shocked to learn that the time I was unconscious was actually just two hours.In the gap of the world, thanks to being in the darkness, I didn’t have to witness the driver’s seat crushed by the dump truck with my own eyes. Neither my mother, uncle, aunt, nor the insurance company employees showed me a single photo of the accident scene, out of concern for my mental state.Perhaps because of this, I was able to return to daily life relatively quickly compared to other PTSD patients. If I had seen the blood soaking the car’s interior and the distorted shapes with my own eyes, I might never have been able to get into a car again.For several months, I couldn’t even walk beside roads where cars were speeding. So, my mother and I had to move to an apartment near the school I transferred to.After about a year, my fear responses improved significantly, and I could sit in the back seat as long as the speed didn’t exceed 60-70 km/h. But I still can’t sit in the front passenger seat. The back right seat, preferably in the rightmost lane, below 70 km/h. That’s the intersection of me and cars.My father’s life insurance was all transferred to me after the necessary paperwork with my mother. My bank account has several hundred million won in it. Neither I nor my mother touched that money. She told me to use it when I need it when I grow up, but I probably won’t use it in my lifetime.The fact that my father had passed away, that he was no longer beside me, was just an occasional realization. There was no world-shattering grief. Only anxiety that tormented me with nightmares in the depths of the night remained.I was hospitalized for about a month, so I couldn’t attend my father’s funeral, and naturally, I didn’t see him before the casket was closed. But in my dreams, I often saw my father’s distorted last moments before the casket was closed.In another dream, I was trapped inside a burning car, unable to escape, pushing against the crumpled door. On such nights, I often wake up in the middle of the night to find my blankets soaked.I was still a “Pee Boy.”However, after years of consistent counseling and effort, I am now sitting in the back seat of a bus heading to Busan. When the bus picks up speed on the highway, I try to listen to music or take out my tablet PC to do other things. This helps suppress the panic response of cold sweat, unstable breathing, and terror.After moving to Changwon with my mother right after the accident, I avoided Busan for nearly nine years. Except for once when I attended an award ceremony for a contest, I hadn’t stepped foot in Busan.[Are you okay?]It was a message from my mom. Having something to focus on even if I felt motion sickness was better. I decided to reply to the pending messages.[Yeah, I’m okay. I’ll arrive in 20 minutes lol]I replied to my mom’s message. Next was a message from my counselor from last night.[Won-ah, you have an interview tomorrow, right? Fighting! You’re smart, you can do well, believe in what your teacher says!]The third counselor I’ve had matched well with me. I liked that he didn’t pry into ‘that event’ before the car accident. In a way, I could say it’s thanks to this counselor that I’m going for a graduate school interview now.The counselor suggested immersing myself in hobbies as part of PTSD treatment. Among various examples, there was building coding robots. This therapy was perfect for me since I enjoyed solving problems step-by-step on my own, and it was also how I first got into coding.[Thank you.]I sent a simple reply and went back. There were 56 notifications in the group chat with Kangho, Juyong, and Hyungon. I slowly read through the pending messages.[Set me up on a blind date, please 😭ㅜ][Am I supposed to help others when I’m dying here? Be self-sufficient!!ㅗ][I’ll set you up with a girl from Cheongju lol][Look at the winner’s leisure, fuck]Kangho went to Korea National University of Education as planned and has a girlfriend from the same school. Juyong went to the Dental Laboratory Technology department, and Hyungon went to the College of Education.I didn’t go to medical school, pharmacy school, the College of Education, or the College of Education. I ruined the college entrance exam after the car accident. Judging that retaking the exam would be worse for my mental health, I just went to a four-year university near Changwon for Business Statistics.I figured I could experience university life, think slowly about the future, and then either retake the exam or prepare for pharmacy school. I agreed with my mom’s suggestion.Because I had trouble with cars, I lived alone off-campus. I served in public service for the military. Perhaps because it was in the College of Business, there was an atmosphere of enthusiasm for getting jobs at large companies or starting businesses, but that didn’t suit my personality.While contemplating what to do, I remembered enjoying coding, and I became interested in web design. I self-taught from HTML to CSS and JavaScript through online courses. For about two years, I played around with making various things, which got me to the level where I could handle most publishing tasks.I entered a mobile page coding contest held at the university without much expectation and won an excellence award. Unexpectedly, as a Business Statistics student winning an award, it seems the department was notified. That’s how I met Professor Yeo Eunmi, who recommended me for this graduate program.‘Convergence of Interactive Media and Culture’.A master’s program with a vague name by nature, this is a government-funded project for eight years, aiming to lead the new media industry through the fusion of various fields in response to the changing trends of the 4th Industrial Revolution…I don’t know. Anyway, I’m going for an interview at this graduate school. I’m not a major in development or programming, so I’ll have to rely on my online course certificates, contest awards, self-taught Photoshop skills, and video editing abilities.‘Mention the courses you took in consumer psychology and PR when you go for the interview. You got A+ in all those subjects, right? You can talk about it confidently because it’s related to UX. Also, express your determination to study front-end development to further enhance your skills if you get admitted.’If it weren’t for Professor Yeo Eunmi, I wouldn’t have had this opportunity. I gripped my crossbody bag strap tightly, determined to succeed.The failure in college entrance due to the car accident, the self-doubt from not jumping into the job market because of my introverted personality and PTSD, all these are opportunities to overcome.Twenty-eight. Lee Won finally has a chance to live life properly.The bus stopped.🏐Shame.The counselor told me that shame is an emotion that can be overcome. Besides the PTSD symptoms related to the car accident, I had a trauma from the corporal punishment I received continuously since childhood.The corporal punishment from my father instilled deep shame in me, resulting in an inability to look people in the eye or speak with confidence. Practicing eye contact and regular counseling sessions with the counselor were very helpful.“Mr. Lee Won. Wow? Your award record is impressive?”“Ah… Thank you.”Perhaps because it’s a newly established department with a project-based nature, the interview atmosphere was very friendly. As Professor Yeo Eunmi had said, the interview seemed to be a formality. The questions from the professors lined up were within predictable ranges.I explained my motivation for applying and my experience, as the professor had advised, having rehearsed it dozens of times by myself.“I’m not a major… so I feel quite… lacking, but just like how I studied hard on my own to fill in the gaps, I will work hard in graduate school…”Even while speaking, my mind went blank. I was so focused on whether my words were correct that I didn’t notice the office environment or the professors’ expressions.“It’s okay, it’s okay. So what if you’re not a major? Some of the other admits weren’t majors either. We prefer someone with design skills and practical experience!”“Ah… Thank you.”“It would be nice if such a handsome man joined our graduate school, right? Don’t you agree, Professor Lee Ji-sun?”“Oh, why are you asking me? I don’t know.”The interview was filled with low-level humor. It ended in less than five minutes.As I entered the lecture room used as the waiting room for the interview, I saw the candidates who had finished their interviews gathered, talking. There was one man in his 40s, one in his 30s, a woman in her 30s, a woman in her 20s, and including me, the rest were all men in their 20s.I felt the eyes on me since I was the last one. I awkwardly bowed. I was about to go to my seat when one of the men gestured to me.“What did they ask you?”He was wearing the same white shirt, black slacks, and black loafers as me. The man with a two-block perm dyed red was full of character and looked like he might be my age or a couple of years younger. He pulled out a chair next to him, forcing me to sit there.“You’re older, right? I just graduated from college, so I’m twenty-six.”The individualistic man casually used informal speech.“Yes, I’m twenty-eight…”“Use informal speech with me. My name is Jo Eunman. Just don’t call me ‘a little’!!”When I heard his name, I actually thought of the pun

'just a little',