Then, even more playfully, Unyoung closed his eyes and opened his lips wide. I had absolutely no clue how to handle this dog-awful situation.
Given Choi Jingi’s original personality, I felt like I should do it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to.
As I hesitated with the Tangsuyuk in mid-air, Go Yeol picked up a fresh pair of chopsticks, grabbed a massive, poorly-cut chunk of pork, and shoved it into Joo Unyoung’s mouth.
“Pfft! Hahaha, that’s hilarious!”
“We don’t have much time left.”
Go Yeol was a savior. I tucked my lower lip in and looked at him with an expression full of admiration. I wanted to hug him and scream, “Thank you, you beautiful bastard!” Baek Jaehui roared with laughter, and Joo Unyoung bit into the Tangsuyuk, looking at the bite marks on the piece held by the chopsticks.
Joo Unyoung looked annoyed as he stared at the pork skewered by the chopstick, but I happily finished the rest of my meal in a flash.
By the time we returned to school, the security guard had gone to lunch, so we entered through the main gate. Go Yeol headed straight for the gym.
When I asked if he was going without even letting his food digest, he just gave a silent nod. I looked at Go Yeol in his basketball uniform with newfound wonder.
There were guys like that in my past life too. They slept through class just like I did, but unlike me, they were running hard toward a future.
I used to think it was pathetic—hoping for that tiny possibility of turning pro when only a handful of players ever make it—but now it felt different.
As I walked toward the edge of the playground with the other two, I started to put my hands in my pockets but quickly pulled them out. My past-life habits kept surfacing.
‘Careful, stay careful. Even if they think I’m weird, it’s not like they’ll suspect the truth.’
“Oh, right. You know Gwang-im High next door, right?”
“Why?”
“They want to bet on a soccer match. Want to go? This Saturday.”
Baek Jaehui tossed the question out casually. Seeing as he asked so naturally, the original Choi Jingi must have gone a few times.
My only experience with soccer was watching it at home with a beer after work. Honestly, I barely knew the rules—if a goal went in, it went in; if not, what a shame.
Since the old Choi Jingi didn’t seem to have a massive interest in soccer either, I didn’t have many specific memories about it.
“No.”
“Why? You said you liked it before. At least come watch.”
“Why would I?”
“Stop being picky. Just come and cheer, bring us some water when we rest. Isn’t a man’s strength fueled by having someone pretty watching?”
‘What a load of crap.’
Jingi dismissed Baek Jaehui’s rambling with a single word. He couldn’t help but think that maybe this was why sports teams usually recruited girls as managers; the idea of Baek Jaehui’s “male energy” motivation was slightly repulsive. Jingi subtly took a step away from him.
By doing so, however, he inadvertently ended up right next to Joo Unyoung. He could feel Unyoung’s gaze following him intensely.
Jingi sweated internally and turned his head away.
‘Stop staring, you’re going to wear a hole in me…’
“Oh, right. Baek Jaehui.”
“What now?”
“Go on ahead. I have something to say to Jingi.”
This was news to Jingi. He blinked, looking back and forth between the two.
Joo Unyoung, who had naturally draped an arm over Jingi’s shoulder, shooed Baek Jaehui away with a flick of his wrist. He then pulled out the lollipop the restaurant owner had given him.
“Why? What is it? Why are you guys talking without me?”
“I said I have something to say.”
“Yeah, but why are you leaving me out?”
“Ugh, why are you being so obsessive? Just go if I tell you to go.”
Baek Jaehui’s eyes narrowed. He ruffled his reddish-brown hair aggressively and let out a deep sigh. “You won’t even come to soccer, damn it,” he muttered, sounding genuinely aggrieved.
Joo Unyoung continued to look at him with a harmless expression, twirling the candy in his hand. It smelled like strawberries.
Between the two of them, Jingi just wanted to run away. Desperately.
“Fine, you prick. What are you glaring for?”
When Jingi turned his head, Joo Unyoung was still smiling.
Baek Jaehui grumbled, “Glaring at me like he’s gonna kill me,” and spun around, stomping back toward the building.
He looked thoroughly sulky, his footsteps kicking up dust and sand.
“Should we sit over there?”
“Uh… but what did you want to talk about?”
“Come here.”
Baek Jaehui turned back a few times as he trudged away.
Joo Unyoung didn’t pay him any mind, leading Jingi to a bench on one side of the playground. A thick, nameless vine climbed over the top of the bench, casting a deep, cool shadow.
Jingi sat down, practically dragged by the arm around his shoulder. Sitting side-by-side, he was now eye-level with Joo Unyoung, who had seemed smaller when they were standing.
‘…Are my legs short?’
He subtly stretched his legs out, but they definitely weren’t short. In fact, they were on the long side, but being next to someone who was so effortlessly beautiful and long-limbed made him feel strangely small.
It was like that feeling when you walk into a restroom and see a incredibly handsome guy looking in the mirror, and you suddenly feel the urge to leave. Jingi tucked his legs back under the bench.
‘Then again, honestly, I’m pretty handsome too.’
“Ah, I’m full. But aren’t you going to eat your candy?”
“I just put it in my pocket.”
“Oh, right. You said you don’t eat sweets.”
Jingi nodded with a strained smile. Maybe the old Choi Jingi didn’t, but the current Jingi loved sweets.
The only reason he hadn’t opened the candy was that he didn’t want to be stuck chewing it during the short lunch break. He was saving it for the walk home.
No matter how much he thought about it, his past self and the current Choi Jingi were worlds apart—personality, behavior, likes, and even their general aura.
While he was sweet to Joo Unyoung, Choi Jingi was supposed to be a charismatic, second-generation chaebol protagonist.
“No, I do eat them.”
“Really?”
Joo Unyoung popped the candy into his mouth, then pulled it out with a soft pop sound. Jingi leaned his back against the bench and tilted his head back.
A refreshing breeze blew past. It was July, so it would soon be so hot it would be hard to breathe. He remembered suffering from heatstroke every summer.
‘At least now I can keep the AC on at home, right? I’m not taking a single step outside the house.’
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Huh?”
Jingi, who had been lost in thought staring at the sky, sat up straight at the sudden question. Joo Unyoung let out a soft laugh.
“You’ve changed somehow. It feels like you have more… openings now, strangely.”
“What… no. I’m the same.”
Jingi avoided his eyes, feeling a prick of guilt at the casual observation.
He checked the time; there were about ten minutes left until class.
‘Do I have to survive ten more minutes of this? No, I’ll tell him we should head back in five minutes…’
Just then, a firm hand slid over the back of his. Joo Unyoung squeezed Jingi’s hand tightly before loosening his grip.
“Why did you have a change of heart?”
“Ah…”
“I thought you liked me, but you keep saying you don’t, and it’s hurting my feelings.”
‘So we’re back to this.’
Jingi missed the timing to pull his hand away and bit his lip, not knowing how to answer.
“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt your lip.”
A hand reached out and brushed against his mouth. As his bitten lip was released by the gentle pressure, Joo Unyoung lowered his eyelids.
His light brown eyelashes fluttered softly, like a butterfly’s wings.
His thumb brushed over Jingi’s lower lip, circling the slightly swollen and reddened spot. Jingi swallowed several times before pulling back.
Thump, thump, thump.
His heart was racing like crazy.
It was the body’s memory. The body had loved Joo Unyoung, and because of those memories, his chest felt like it was going to explode.
