HMN C8

Chapter 8

Plod. Plod.

Just as the two had predicted, by the time he left the cafeteria and off the campus, Daeyoung’s lower lip was jutting out thick with sulk.

It wasn’t because of blameless friends. It felt, in every way, as if the world were forcing him into ridicule. Trudging home on drained legs, his eyes stayed fixed on his phone screen the whole way.

Got a part-time job.

“What, do all college students only do part-time work….”

He muttered it, but it wasn’t wrong. With the semester underway, most students turned into hyenas hunting easy, nearby gigs. Given that he’d hesitated instead of moving fast while weighing better terms, it was only natural he got edged out. There was nothing to say.

“Ugh….”

When he closed the part-time app, there it was again: that fat red badge on his messenger. No doubt more talk about the video. Now that classes had begun, it was the perfect timing for freshly reunited classmates to identify the star of the clip and spread it far and wide.

Is this you?

Hahaha, it’s all over the campus forums.

Hahahahahahahaha

I saw you here lolol

Oppa, what is this lol…

(emoji)

Heard you’re back to school, Daeyoung! haha?

(photo)

The comments say they’re going to marry you, so freaking funny

 

 

As the video started circulating, he hadn’t really read anything, so a long string of preview messages had piled up. It seemed it was still spreading even now. He opened one message and tapped the link.

Someone was feeding a cat so I went over lol

It was a typical humor account. A repost page owner had slapped a big caption over the clip, and there he was, squatting and waving a hand holding chicken breast toward a black plastic bag. Last time he’d stopped there, disgusted, and closed it; this was the first time he watched to the end.

He focused, hoping for a clue to who had filmed it. The usual phone-shot composition: filmed from afar, then gradually zoomed in, as if they’d pinched to zoom. The video had no sound, and shot at a distance, his face likewise wasn’t clear.

Views: 2.6 million.

“Goddammit!”

Why would anyone watch a drunk guy feeding chicken breast to a black bag that many times? His heart leapt; he hurriedly closed the app. He didn’t have the nerve to open the mountain of comments.

If he were like Haegyeom, he’d have enjoyed the attention—his face barely showed and he hadn’t done anything wrong. But Daeyoung loathed gossip. He kept exactly one empty SNS account for collecting information and had never posted even a single commonplace photo.

“No, seriously—who filmed this?”

Back home in the shower, the question wouldn’t let go. In the end, flopped on his bed, he opened the app again.

Hello, could you tell me where you got this video? ^^

The DM he sent was polite, just in case they wouldn’t reply. He stared at the message window for about five minutes, hair still wet, eyes glued to the phone, then finally tore his gaze from the still-unread message and sprawled flat.

“I’m telling you, it was that bastard Go Chiwoo….”

There wasn’t a shred of proof, but that’s how it felt. He stared at the blank ceiling, and the moment his phone buzzed he snatched it up.

Got it from the original filmer

The bare-bones reply was rude. No reason to stay polite.

I’m the person in the video. Please delete it or share the account of the person who filmed it.

This time the reply came fast.

That’s private info so no, and I just got it via DM too

(photo)

Along with it came a screenshot of messages with the person who’d sent them the video.

(video)

Please post this. I filmed it myself and it pissed me off, so I’m going to spread it.

“Pissed me off, so I’m going to spread it”—that line stood out. Why would someone get pissed after filming it themselves? Daeyoung knit his brows. Unless they had a grievance or dislike toward him, it was a strange thing to say. He wanted to see more, but the image was cropped to just that snippet. As he frowned over it, another message arrived.

If you can’t prove you’re the person in the clip, I can’t take it down

“……”

Right. In this coarsened world, flexibility, warm humanity, and sentiment had clearly evaporated. For the sake of racking up views, they’d post and spread a video even when the subject said no. And he had no intention of “proving” he was the person in that video. What, send a selfie? All of it was absurd.

“Pissed me off, so I’m going to spread it.”

He reopened the image. His heart thudded with a sick dislike. It was exactly like something he’d experienced before. A bitter taste crept quickly to his fingertips.

Bzzz.

Another buzz. Not a DM—just a text message.

From <Ready!> General Meeting Notice

The campus’s only film club, “Ready!”, will hold its first meeting of the semester as follows. Along with announcing this year’s event schedule, including the club promotion fair, there will also be an after-party, so attendance is required…

 

Thinking of Min-hye from earlier brought that smug face beside her to mind as well. Should that gen-ed be dropped?

He glared at the ceiling and jolted upright. It was still the add/drop period, so removing a class would be nothing—but the problem was pride; it would look like running away. Min-hye had seen him keep his mouth shut during the introductions, too.

“No—what if getting real chummy first lets me catch proof?”

Honestly, since they’d been paired in the gen-ed, volunteering together meant there was a chance to get closer. Even if things smarted now, if he endured a bit and played friendly, he might get proof that the bastard was the one who uploaded the clip. At worst, if the guy went to the bathroom, a quick peek at his phone gallery…

“What the hell am I thinking.”

In the first place, the problem lay with him, who kept letting shameful moments leak out around the guy—but dissemination was another matter. Maybe after seeing yet another of his humiliations, the guy had wanted to keep a record for once, or maybe once he filmed it he found it funny and posted it so everyone could laugh. Of course, a normal person would be unlikely to do that, but most problems in this world came from the abnormal tucked among the many normal.

“Ugh, if I drop that gen-ed, I have nothing else to take…”

Maybe he should scout slowly while gauging the guy’s swagger. It felt like an ill-fated thread that would cling regardless; cutting it might not send them cleanly on separate ways anyway.

“Pissed off, so I’m going to spread it.”

“…Right. Why should I run?”

Good. Don’t drop the class. And the club? So what if he’s close with Min-hye? If he hardened himself a little and showed up consistently, he might get closer to Min-hye too. Weren’t power-insider plans already made? With eyes blazing as if flames had been lit in both, Daeyoung stared at the phone screen, grabbed his mouse, and dug through part-time postings. Once his mind was set, a road seemed to open. A fresh listing on the job site snagged his attention.

Now hiring part-time staff for the newly opening cafe “Hallu”

He’d thought he’d seen every new posting in the last few days; the name was novel. Clicking through, the address rang a bell.

“Oh? Right in front of the main gate?”

Just across the big entrance stood a building that seemed to host a different shop every time he looked. It seemed they’d rebuilt it from scratch while he was on leave, and a cafe was going in on the first floor.

“Tch, the location’s not great.”

Scroll. Scroll.

It might fold fast, but the conditions looked pretty good as he read down carefully—working three or four times a week, weekends off. This time he didn’t hesitate and hit Apply. His saved resume went out, and as soon as he closed the popup confirming submission, he flopped back and shut his eyes.

His body felt comfortable on the soft mattress, but the knowledge that someone out there was badmouthing him clung like oil residue, quickening his pulse a touch. How old was that memory, and why did it still irritate him the moment it surfaced? Scolding himself, he hugged a pillow and curled up. At times like this, the wisest course was to clamp the eyes shut and hope time would pass. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, counting. Thanks to that, after about thirty minutes, he fell asleep without a thought in his head.