Chapter 45 : White/Hundred (6)

“If you touch me, it’s a crime, you know.”

Hankyul looked flustered at my teasing grin. I frowned at him.

“What was that reaction? Were you actually planning on something?”
“Of course not! Don’t make such… Weird jokes.”
“You should be thanking me for being so understanding.”
“You’re… right. I apologize.”

I chuckled as he scratched the back of his head. He was so easily flustered. It made me want to tease him more.

Joohyun, in my past life, had also suggested the classic “dinner, drinks, then home” date progression when she confessed. My iron wall defense had thwarted her plans, of course.

It seemed that the older you got, the more… streamlined the dating process became. Perhaps it was a lack of time, a lack of patience? The world was like an incompetent boss, giving you too much time when you were young, fueling your anxiety, and then not giving you any time at all when you were older. A balance would be nice.

Anyway, the director wanted us to portray the awkward, tentative beginnings of a relationship, so adult dating strategies were irrelevant.

My phone buzzed. A message from my older sister, Hayul. I had asked for her advice earlier. I showed Hankyul the message.

“My sister said if we’re not sure what to do, we should start with a movie.”
“Your sister?”
“Yeah. She said the first movie should always be a horror movie. Something about the suspension bridge effect.”
(TL Note: The suspension bridge effect (also known as the misattribution of arousal) is a psychological phenomenon where people mistake the physiological arousal caused by fear or excitement for romantic attraction)
“Let me see if there are any movie theaters nearby.”
“No need. I know this area pretty well. I live around here.”

I stretched, stood up, and said,

“Let’s go. I’ll lead the way.”

We looked at the movie posters displayed on the wall. I found the one Hayul had recommended:

[SILENCE]

A black and white poster of a black actor covering his mouth against a dark background. The title and the image suggested a… quiet horror film. I frowned at the poster, and Hankyul asked,

“You don’t like it?”
“You know how sometimes, even a funny story can be ruined if the person telling it keeps…telegraphing the punchline? This poster is so creepy that it’s… underwhelming.”
“The reviews are good. Want to pick something else?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m pretty immune to horror movies. They’re all the same.”

Hankyul raised an eyebrow.

“Confident, are we?”
“Of course. It’s just a movie.”

I smirked. People were scarier than ghosts. Fictional stories couldn’t scare me.

Or so I thought.

I bit my lip, my hands clenching into fists.

The monster was approaching. It hunted by sound.

The protagonist covered his mouth, his eyes darting around. His dog started growling at the monster. The man covered the dog’s mouth with his hand.

[Quiet, Sandy. Please.]

I covered my mouth, mimicking the protagonist’s action.

‘Idiot, just leave the dog. Your life is more important.’

The grotesque monster was right in front of him now, its face inches from his. The man squeezed his eyes shut, trembling.

Just as the monster’s raspy breaths mingled with the man’s own ragged gasps, the dog in his arms started barking.

“Eep!”

The sudden sound, amplified by my already heightened senses, made me jump. A small squeak escaped my lips.

I had never reacted like this to a horror movie before. Perhaps this body was… more susceptible to fear.

I glanced at Hankyul, who was smirking at me.
“Immune to horror movies, huh?” his expression seemed to say.

We exited the theater, the air thick with awkwardness. Or rather, I felt awkward.

Hankyul chuckled, mimicking my earlier words.

“I’m… immune to horror movies… they’re all the same…”

My ears burned at his teasing. I remained silent, and he continued.

“It’s just a movie…”

I covered my ears with my hands. He knew. He had found my weakness. It was a blow to my pride.

“Okay, okay, you win!”

I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I changed the subject. Hankyul, sensing my embarrassment, let it go.

“It’s almost lunchtime. Let’s get something to eat.”
“Not Gukbap, I hope.”
“I suggested it, and she called me an old man.”
“Your sister’s a wise woman.”

I glared at him. Insulting the sacred institution of Gukbap… I swallowed the angry retort that rose in my throat.

“…My sister recommended a good Italian place nearby.”
“Sounds good.”

I led the way, a sudden amusement bubbling up within me.

“I seem to be doing all the leading. You’re not very good at this ‘date’ thing, are you?”
“Hey, it’s your neighborhood.”
“That’s true.”

He looked slightly indignant.

“And you’re not exactly a dating expert yourself.”
“That’s true, too. And someone’s following my lead.”

We arrived at the restaurant. After ordering, I handed Hankyul his utensils. He looked at me, puzzled.

“What?”
“You seem… very comfortable with all this.”
“With what?”
“Taking the lead, ordering for both of us… It’s not what I expected.”

I smirked. It was probably just a habit from my past life.

The food was good. I had been skeptical since it was an “Instagrammable” restaurant, but the sauce was surprisingly delicious, perfectly balanced. Hankyul, twirling his pasta, suddenly spoke up.

“How’s your… neck?”
“What?”
“You had that… mark from filming.”

I touched the black choker I was wearing to hide the mark.

“It’s still there, but it should fade in a week or so.”
“Aren’t your parents worried?”
“I’m avoiding them. If they find out, it’s going to be… unpleasant.”

He nodded, falling silent. The only sound was the clinking of our utensils against our plates.

After we finished eating, as we were sipping our drinks, Hankyul spoke, a serious expression on his face.

“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you do that… during filming?”
“Oh, that?”
“You could have… compromised. It was dangerous. I just… wanted to understand why it was so important to you.”

I touched my neck, a wry smile on my face. His expression, when he had seen me after the hanging scene, had been a mixture of concern and confusion. He hadn’t understood my detachment, my almost serene acceptance of the near-death experience. He had probably felt… inadequate.

I decided to be honest, to offer some guidance to this lost soul.

“It wasn’t that important, actually. It’s just that… when you know there’s a better way, a better option… it’s hard to… settle for less.”
“If it wasn’t that important, why risk your life for it?”
“Because… not having a reason to do something…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.”

I smiled.

“I’m… terrified of regrets. That’s why I always try my best. If I do my best, at least I can justify my actions to myself. I can make peace with my choices.”

Hankyul was quiet for a long time. I closed my eyes, giving him the gift of silence. He finally chuckled.

“I’ve been… thinking a lot lately. About whether I really want to be an actor.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I became an idol to become an actor. But sometimes, I wonder… maybe I should just… be content with what I have.”

Hankyul had always dreamt of becoming an actor. Becoming an idol had been a stepping stone, a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, he had lost sight of his original goal.

Perhaps that’s why my performance had affected him so deeply. My approach to acting resonated with something he had been trying to ignore.

“I think… it’s all been an excuse. I wanted to be an actor because I wanted to… live like the characters in movies. But reality… reality keeps getting in the way, forcing me to compromise.”

I nodded slowly, understanding his struggle, his passion for acting. I wanted to offer him some comfort, some reassurance. I smiled.

“Hold out your hand.”

He extended his hand, and I placed mine against his, our fingers interlacing. His hand was much larger than mine.

“Big hands,” I commented.
“Why?” he asked, puzzled.
“Just… wait.”

I slowly adjusted my grip, our fingers intertwining, thumb to thumb, index finger to index finger, middle finger to middle finger, and finally, our pinkies locking together.

“When I act, I try to become the character. When I’m on camera, it feels more natural to be called Seol than Haram.”

I smiled.

“Our time together today is… fleeting. Even happy memories become… diluted, tainted by the past.”

Happiness was a temporary anesthetic, a fleeting distraction from the pain of the past.

“But for Seol, who has no memories, every moment is a lifetime. If someone can make her happy today, she can be happy… forever.”

But Seol was different. Show her seven colors, and she’d see a rainbow. Teach her to count to ten, and she’d hold the world in her hands.

I looked at Hankyul, his eyes filled with a flicker of uncertainty.

“Intertwined fingers… it’s a sign of possessiveness.”
“Possessiveness?”
“Yeah. A desire to… hold onto someone, to keep them for yourself.”

A breeze ruffled my hair, and I brushed it aside with my free hand.

“Sung Jihoon has to give Seol a lifetime of happiness. So… just for the scene… I’ll let you hold my hand.”