Chapter 10 : Han Dojun (3)

The boy, now grown, no longer craved blind adoration.
He met every show of kindness with suspicion, calculating motives. Years of acting lessons had given him a keen eye for detecting falsehoods.

And so, he became a loner.
He didn’t need fake relationships. They never truly *saw* him anyway. Changing environments didn’t change the situation.

He lay his head down on his desk, succumbing to sleep. He had been up late the night before, poring over scripts.
Just then, someone tapped his shoulder.

He looked up to see a girl, who introduced herself as Lee Haram, smiling at him.

“Want to be friends?”

He saw through her immediately.
The deliberate control of the muscles around her eyes and mouth.
Her gaze wasn’t focused on *him*; it was looking beyond him, at something else.

Her smile wasn’t genuine.
It was the smile of an actor.

So, he pushed her away, gruffly.

“Who cares?”

Usually, people would be taken aback or angrily walk away after such a response.
He expected the same this time.

But she didn’t. She took a step closer.
She bent down to his level, placed her arms on his desk, and met his gaze.
And with a smile, she asked again.

He almost faltered. He almost fell for the very falsehood he despised. So, he pushed her arms away and put his head back down, rejecting her intrusion. He still disliked Lee Haram.

She continued to interact with him, treating him with the casual familiarity of an old friend. Maintaining her false persona all the while.

Something must have been wrong with him. He disliked her, but not entirely.

If he truly hated her, he would have ignored her completely.
But he couldn’t. He reacted to everything she said.

When he found out she had applied for the drama club, he was strangely excited to share a common interest with her.
This contradiction made him watch her.

What was the difference between her and the people he loathed?

He finally realized it.
Unlike their clumsy attempts, Lee Haram’s deception was flawless. She wore a mask for everyone, not just him.

So, he wanted to see it. He wanted to see the real her, the person hidden behind the mask, because *he* wanted to be seen for who he truly was.

The opportunity came quickly.
At the drama club initiation ceremony.

He watched intently as Lee Haram took the stage.
He expected a decent performance. Her voice and gestures during their conversations weren’t those of a novice.

What would happen if Haram, already acting in her daily life, added another layer of falsehood? He hoped a glimpse of her true self would slip through the cracks.

But she exceeded his expectations.
She cast off her mask and unleashed her raw, ugly emotions. The shocking display felt like watching a snuff film. He finally understood what kind of person she was.

But one question remained.
Her eyes seemed to meet his, yet they always looked beyond him.
What was she looking at?

***

“You hate me, don’t you?”

After saying those words, I looked up at the clear sky, turning away from Dojun.
I silently wished the bright sunlight would dry the moisture in my eyes.

I was supposed to be emotionally barren.
Yet, this cruel youth kept showering me with cold rain.

Dojun hesitated for a moment, then replied,

“…I did.”
“Did?”
“But I don’t know anymore.”
“…Well, that’s good enough for me.”

We fell silent, focusing on the music echoing through the streets.

A brief silence to diffuse the awkward atmosphere.
Enough time to put the mask back on.
I forced a smile and looked at Dojun.

“Shall we go home?”

We walked towards the subway station, and I carefully wrapped and stored the day’s memories. I’m sure there was still some space left in my mind’s display case.

***

“Time for school, sweetie.”

There had to be a nationwide conspiracy involving clocks.
There was no other explanation for Monday morning arriving so quickly.

I rubbed my eyes and went to the kitchen.
A distinctly Western breakfast of toast and bacon awaited me.

“Ugh, bread again?”
“What? I thought you were a bread lover?”
“My only joy in life is starting the day with your warm soup, Mom.”
“Oh, please. Thanks to you two, I feel like I’m living with two old men these days.”
“Two old men? One’s Dad, and the other’s… Hayul?”

My sister, spreading jam on her toast, frowned at me.
Her expression clearly asked if I was serious.
Mom placed a freshly fried egg on my plate.

“By the way, sweetie, you said you might be coming home late starting today?”
“Yeah, because of club activities. But I’ll try to be home before dinner.”
“Oh dear, who will keep me company then? My older daughter is too busy with her friends to care about her mother.”
“That’s *her* being weird, Mom. I’m the normal one.”
“Sure, brag about it. And stop spilling food! Are you going to do the laundry?”

I chuckled at their banter. It was a simple, happy routine.

***

The warm sunlight brightened my walk to school.
But warmth also attracted pests.

Someone ran up and tapped me on the back.
I turned to see an unwelcome face.

“Senior Minseok. Hello.”
“Just call me Oppa.”
“I prefer this.”
“I heard you’re a great actor, Haram. Show me what you got.”

I didn’t know why he was acting so familiar. His blatant behavior was unsettling. I consciously took a step back.

“Here? You’re in the drama club, right? You should have seen it at the auditorium the other day.”
“Ah, I had plans with a friend that day.”
“Then you missed out.”

He was acting as if skipping the initiation ceremony was something to be proud of. I became colder towards him.
He placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Come on, just a little preview? It’s not a big deal.”
“No. And Senior, honestly, this is uncomfortable. Let’s walk separately.”

I dismissed him with a smile.
As I walked away, I heard him say, “Playing hard to get, huh?”

No.
I wasn’t playing hard to get; he was just cheap.

***

Seventh period on a Monday was torture.
It was past 4 p.m., but as members of the drama club, we were bound to the school.

The instructor had told us to change into our gym clothes and meet at the auditorium. I went back to my classroom, intending to change there since everyone had already left.

But there was an unexpected obstacle. Dojun was asleep at his desk, the lights off.
I nudged him awake.

“Hmm…? Is class over?”
“The instructor told us to change into our gym clothes and meet at the auditorium.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
“Can you turn around for a second?”
“Why?”
“I need to change.”

Dojun sighed and buried his face in his arms. I quickly changed.

“Done. You can turn around now.”
“Is that how a girl should behave?”
“I doubt you’d peek with your personality, but even if you did, it wouldn’t kill me. And I’m too lazy to go to the restroom.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Hurry up and change. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Hell awaited us at the auditorium. The instructor, after checking the assembled students, smiled and said,

“Run.”
“How much?”
“50 laps. I’ll take special care of anyone who drops out.”

High school students, even athletic ones, had their limits.
As expected, most of the first-year students collapsed before reaching the halfway point.
Only Dojun and I kept running among the seniors.

After completing 50 laps, we stood before the instructor, who looked pleased.

“Haram and Dojun, you have good stamina.”
“Stamina is the foundation of acting.”

Dojun stated a simple truth.
Kang Haerin looked even more satisfied.
She addressed everyone.

“Your stamina is lacking. Until you reach a certain level, the seniors will make sure you run every day, even when I’m not here.”

Just then, Senior Joohyuk entered the auditorium, carrying a box filled with papers.

“Instructor, I brought the scripts.”
“Thanks for your hard work.”

Haerin distributed the scripts.
The title on the cover read: [The Wish-Granting Moon Rabbit].

“I received this script from a junior I know. This will be our next play.”
“Yes!”
“And one more announcement.”

The instructor chuckled, a sound that seemed almost resigned. It made me uneasy.
As expected, her next words were a bombshell.

“Roles will be assigned based solely on skill, regardless of grade level.”