Chapter 35: The Gap

We exchanged trivial chatter—how’s your mother, how’s your father’s work—when suddenly his eyes lit up as if he’d just remembered something. It felt ominous, and sure enough, the conversation turned to those four.

I’d thought about it—he lives right next door and is always out and about, so it was possible they’d run into each other on the street—but actually hearing it felt different. I asked, feigning nonchalance, as he continued sipping his coffee.

“Must have been nice to see them?”

At my question, he rolled his eyes once, pulled the slightly distant table closer, and opened his mouth.

“Yeah, I guess. But yesterday the seniors seemed busy, so we just exchanged greetings. Seeing them after so long brought back old memories. Ah, we had so much fun with club activities back in college. Right?”

Here we go again. His one-sided reminiscing. I swallowed the sigh that almost escaped. Whether I was interested or not, he continued.

“At first there weren’t many club members, so the club room was huge. And when we went to the ski resort during break, the hyungs stuck close like private instructors and taught me well. Thanks to them, I improved a lot—now people say I could teach anyone at the slopes.”

“Ah, is that so. Lucky you.”

I’d never participated in ski resort activities except for the first break—but thinking back, they did seem to teach him well. Him, specifically.

I listened like I was overhearing a conversation Chae Yeryeong was having with someone else. That’s the treatment you get when you hang out with a group you’re not close to. They had no interest in me, and I wasn’t sociable enough to approach them first.

Recalling the isolation I’d felt back then, I suddenly thought—maybe it would be different now. The moment I finished that thought, I realized: Ah, it definitely has changed.

Now I was no longer the presence-less friend of Chae Yeryeong to them. I seemed to be someone they wanted to protect, employ, and hang out with. Feeling my slightly gloomy mood brighten again, I looked at Chae Yeryeong, who was still unpacking his college memories.

Maybe, just maybe—was I now closer to them than Chae Yeryeong was? This time, I’d met them first, not him, and gotten more deeply entangled. Unless Chae Yeryeong had been meeting them without my knowledge, it wasn’t impossible.

But if not—even if I’d stolen the opportunities to meet them, there were other ways for him to see them. I swallowed once and cut him off.

“Yeryeong. You’re not still in contact with the club seniors, are you?”

Looking confused at my question, he answered.

“Uh… I wasn’t?”

“You weren’t?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t been in touch for a while, but recently I’ve been running into them here and there, so we’re back in contact.”

I forced myself to ask again.

“Did you just run into them? Are you actually in touch now? How did that happen?”

My unusually persistent questioning made him furrow his brows slightly—but being the talkative type, he soon launched into the story.

“With Taehyuk hyung, I had to keep in touch because of that dinner at your place. People don’t realize this, but I think he’s actually very considerate and warm underneath that cold, stoic exterior. He’d call almost every day to thank me for taking care of him and ask how I was doing, and he’d listen to me complain about job hunting—he was just like the hyung I remembered.”

“…Considerate? Warm?”

Him? Choi Taehyuk? The guy who bent my spoons in half?

“Yeah. And when he smiles, it’s so innocent. I was really surprised the first time I saw him smile—he must be shy around others because he doesn’t laugh in front of people. But when we’re alone, he smiles a lot—I got used to it eventually.”

Sm—, smile? Him? Innocently? I seriously started wondering if the Choi Taehyuk I knew and the Choi Taehyuk Chae Yeryeong knew were different people.

Ah, this is the class difference between Chae Yeryeong and me. So what if I lived with him for a month? In the end, the person he likes is the one who matters—even if they only cross paths a few times and exchange a few calls.

I tried to imagine Choi Taehyuk smiling innocently and got goosebumps, rubbing my arms.

“I met Taehyuk hyung at your place. What about Seonwoo hyung? Did you meet him too?”

“Ah, right. Hey, were you upset? That part-time job was at Seonwoo hyung’s place, wasn’t it! Why didn’t you tell me a word about it?”

I leaned my head back slightly at the sudden accusation and glaring eyes. Was that really something to be upset about? I frowned, not understanding his sudden outburst.

“Did I have to tell you?”

“No, but it would’ve been nice—we used to be in the same club, and seeing a senior again after so long is something to be happy about. And you met as employer and employee—how interesting is that!”

Is this what they call social skills, or is he just talkative and nosy? I didn’t get it, but I apologized to avoid getting lectured.

“Anyway, my uncle must’ve felt bad about something—apparently he couldn’t find anyone to work at Seonwoo hyung’s place. Somehow he knew I was close with Seonwoo hyung, so he asked me to go in his place with a gift. It wasn’t hard, so I went. It’s not like Seonwoo hyung would get mad about that—and I wanted to see him after so long anyway.”

I thought it was ironic that he’d complain about me not telling him, while he hadn’t told me either—but I stayed quiet to avoid dragging it out.

“He was really happy to see me after so long. We talked for hours. Oh, and he’s a great cook too—I got to try his cooking for the first time, and we talked about his work, and before I knew it, it was night. We had so much unfinished talk that we started texting about meeting again soon—somehow we’ve kept it up till now.”

With that, Chae Yeryeong pulled out his phone, saying he might as well reply while he remembered.

So Min Seonwoo is a good cook. Wow, I didn’t know that. Well, of course not—I never even got to see him try to cook, let alone taste anything. And they text every day? I scoffed, thinking of how that bastard had gone completely silent for a while.

Crossing my arms and making a bewildered face, Chae Yeryeong—done with his reply—tilted his head.

“What?”

“Ah—. Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Right, it’s nothing. No matter how much we’d been through together—eating together every day, even some physical intimacy beyond the norm—it’s natural that I can’t compare to someone he’d been close to for over a year in college, with good feelings to boot. I felt pathetic for even briefly hoping I could be as significant to someone as Chae Yeryeong was to them. Even if I tried to be positive, the treatment was just too different.

“With Hu and Ho hyungs, like I said, we ran into each other nearby and started talking about game stuff—now we’re in contact. Ah, but those hyungs have always been like that—even after all this time, they’d ask me to guess which one was which! I get that identical twins look similar, but they’re subtly different—I could never mix them up. They act so surprised every time I get it right—I think it’s funny. Don’t you think?”

I half-listened as he—without even being asked—went on about the Namgung brothers, just fidgeting with my toes.

“Don’t you think?” What “don’t you think,” huh? No, I don’t think. I’ve tried my hardest and still can’t tell them apart, and you’re saying you can’t NOT tell them apart—it felt so unfair. I want to try saying that line once too: “It’s amazing you can’t tell them apart.”

Somehow, realizing the gap between Chae Yeryeong and me again didn’t feel great. I had to plan and scheme just to meet them, struggle just to get a little closer—but it seemed like the whole world was helping him become friends with good people.

That must be what a protagonist’s life is like. If Chae Yeryeong is the hero of the story, I’m just an extra…

I know my jealousy is absurd. But unfair is still unfair. I’m his neighbor, aren’t I? Don’t I walk down that street too? Min Seonwoo went to him directly, but the others—they ran into him on the street near my house!

They didn’t even show me a single hair before my regression, but apparently they ran into Chae Yeryeong whenever the opportunity arose.

And what’s with that natural conversational flow? I had to plan topics and carefully gauge reactions just to keep a conversation going—but he seemed to become close with them so easily. Suddenly, I felt distinctly discriminated against by something I could never overcome.

Ah, this is so annoying. Is it just that some people make it and some don’t? I pressed down the rising irritation and slid down beside Chae Yeryeong, who was now lying on the table.

He must have some reason for coming all the way here. Let’s hear it and send him off.

I grabbed a few strands of hair near his crown and yanked hard. Without a scream, he rubbed the sore spot and sat up. I asked:

“So, what are you actually here for?”

After a brief pout, his face lit up as if he’d remembered. He rummaged in his pocket, pulled something out, smiled brightly, and slid it toward me. It was a ticket to a classical concert.