Min Ho

Almost a year had passed since Hyunwoo moved in. We had both done well in exams, even scoring full marks, which placed us first in our year. His birthday was approaching. I wanted to get him something, but what could I possibly buy? He already had the best clothes, perfumes, shoes — his taste was refined. Even our cupboard looked unworthy of his things. He loved football, but I knew little about it despite his attempts to teach me. Still, I had been saving from my job, determined to buy him something, even if small.

At midnight, I wished him. “Many happy returns of the day, Hyunwoo.”

“Thank you, master,” he said playfully. “Where’s my birthday kiss?” He leaned in as if to kiss me, but I pushed him, and he fell on his butt, laughing so hard he rolled on the floor. I extended my hand, which he caught, pulling himself up with the prettiest smile. I could never win against that smile.

“Sorry, did you get hurt?”

“Yes, very much,” he pouted innocently.

“Rubbish,” I smiled. “Your phone is constantly ringing. Why aren’t you answering?”

“They annoy me. As if they really care. Anyway…” He settled back on the bed. “I’ve sent you an address. Be there sharp at 6 PM, understood?”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“It’s a surprise. Be there, or I’ll kill you.”

“Okay… so how old are you today, seven years?” I teased.

He laughed loudly. “I’m seventeen years young today.”

“Still six months younger than me. That makes me your Hyung.”

“Wait — that means your birthday was six months ago. Why did you lie to me about the date?” His tone shifted, suddenly sharp.

“I don’t like celebrating birthdays. I knew you liked parties, so I lied,” I said calmly.

He turned away, silent for ten minutes. The air was heavy.

“What’s wrong? Are you angry? Remember, I forgave you once — so you forgive me too, got it?”

He turned back. The room was dark, so I couldn’t see his face clearly.

“Fine. I forgive you. But next time, we’ll celebrate your birthday the way I want it. How could you lie about something like that?” His teeth were clenched. “Anyway, 6 PM sharp. Understood.”

The next day, I wrapped up my evening shift quickly and rushed to the venue Hyunwoo had shared. Just as I was about to enter, I overheard some of his friends talking.

“Bloody hell, what a party. His parties are always superb — beats any other party,” one exclaimed.

“What if some non-classy one comes?” another asked, her face twisted.

“Who’s the non-class one?”

“Minho, obviously. Hyunwoo must have invited him. Why would he miss the chance to come? This kind of extravagance — he’s probably never even seen food like this in pictures. I don’t know why Hyunwoo gives him so much importance. Pretty sure it’s pity,” she laughed, and they all went back inside.

I quit the plan to enter. It wasn’t fear of them or their comments — it just didn’t feel like a place for me. I didn’t want to embarrass him. My phone rang nonstop from 5:30 onward. Hyunwoo must have called a hundred times. Then a message popped up: “If you don’t show up in the next 15 minutes, it won’t be good for you. I swear.”

I turned off the phone. I knew he was going to stir up a storm. I had no appetite, so I went straight to bed, though I couldn’t sleep.

An hour later, noise erupted. He had returned, furious, making sure I knew it. I got up before the neighbours came knocking.

“Stop it!” I yelled.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked, pointing at himself, then smashed a glass on the floor, staring straight into my eyes. “I thought you didn’t want to talk — ignoring my calls, my messages, even switching off your phone.”

“Hyunwoo, don’t you dare make such a scene. There are others in this building.”

At that, he lost his temper. He barged toward me, stronger than me, and in one move pinned me beneath him on the sofa, gripping my hands.

“Why didn’t you come? I waited so long. If you couldn’t, couldn’t you at least pick up my call? Why?” His eyes were bloodshot.

“Just because you called, should I drop everything and come running? Why? What are you to me? We are nothing just two guys sharing a room that’s all”

His eyes widened, disbelief flooding his face.

“Is that all I am to you? Aren’t you, my friend? For me, you’re my best friend — my only true friend. Was I wrong?” His grip tightened, pressing my wrists until I thought they’d break.

“You’re hurting me, Hyunwoo.” Tears welled in my eyes. The moment he saw them, he released me, recoiling as if burned.

I took the chance, fled to the bedroom, and buried myself in the dark, trying to sleep through the tears. From the living room, the sofa creaked constantly. He hadn’t slept a minute — same as me. Around midnight, the mattress dipped on my right side. A familiar weight pressed against my leg, heavy and warm, as if silently reminding me he was still there.