Eighteen's Bed-Chapter 30.5

I had my first task set for the day.

That task was: “Do absolutely nothing.”

With the start of the new school year, the classroom was filled with tension. East Hall and West Hall students had been mixed at random.

It was the same in our first year too, but for some reason, by the time we became second years, people had developed a sense of belonging to their randomly assigned sections and started acting all high and mighty about it.

It was utterly pointless.

Especially for Kim Minho.

That bastard was actually close to tears as he glared at Han Junwoo.

“Ah, ah... fuck. How the hell did everyone else get separated, but the four of us ended up together? Fuuuck. I don’t know a single person in this class. Is it really true that we got mixed in with those East Hall bastards? Are you serious?”

“Why, isn’t Lee Seokhyun and Kim Seokmin here too?”

“Hey! It’s just the four of us! Did you not see that this class is packed with Han Junwoo’s people? Fuck, this is corruption. It’s favoritism! That bastard Han Junwoo probably got his friends in because his family has money. See? This is why you need to have money in this world.”

But even those hanging around Han Junwoo kept glancing at me.

I almost met one of their eyes before quickly shifting my gaze to Kim Minho.

“You even know what ‘corruption’ means? How impressive.”

“You think I don’t? Huh? You think I don’t know? This asshole always talks down to people like he’s better than them. Huh?”

“Minho, can you at least try to talk like a decent human being?”

Seriously, Kim Minho has a talent for pissing people off.

The only reason I still hang out with this bastard is because I’m nice. Otherwise, he would’ve transferred schools ages ago.

“Hey, that’s not something you should be saying... Hey, look. Look.”

Kim Minho suddenly puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders.

The sight of it was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but laugh.

This is exactly why I keep Minho around—he’s a walking joke.

Even Lee Seokhyun, who had been playing on his phone, straightened his back.

Only Kim Seokmin remained busy talking to some new group, probably trying to expand his social circle.

The guy approaching us was always standing next to Han Junwoo, lounging around with that same annoying attitude.

He looked tense as he stared at me and finally spoke.

“You’re Go Yohan, right? Inwoo-hyung talks about you a lot. You know who Hwang Inwoo is, right?”

Hwang Inwoo?

I racked my brain but came up empty.

Which meant he wasn’t worth remembering in the first place.

I gave him a vague smile.

“Never heard of him.”

You should always be honest with new people.

Starting school on a good note is important.

I’m not the type who likes fighting; I prefer peace.

I pressed the tip of my mechanical pencil hard against my molars as I looked at the guy approaching me.

And then, beyond him.

The face sitting in the chair, turned slightly toward me.

What are you looking at?

I suddenly felt irritated and clamped my mouth shut.

I threw my mechanical pencil onto the desk.

It clattered loudly before tumbling to the floor.

Kang Jun watched it fall.

So what?

It’s not like it means anything.

Or—no, it’s not that it doesn’t mean anything.

I just didn’t want to think about it.

I looked away. The sky was really blue.

The answer would come much later, from an entirely different place.

The first time I made eye contact with Kang Jun, an absurd thought crossed my mind.

“Inwoo-hyung says he wants to see you. I didn’t know this, but you actually have some money, huh? Our Junwoo is filthy rich too, you know. And me as well. My family runs a big moving company.”

The nameless bastard bent down to pick up my mechanical pencil and set it back on my desk.

“You’ve heard of Woojin Trans, right?”

Never heard of it.

Didn’t care.

I turned my gaze from the sky back to the classroom.

Kang Jun, who had been watching me, was now staring at the hallway window.

Han Junwoo was there, leaning against the window, gazing toward the end of the corridor.

“You wanna play soccer after lunch—”

“No.”

I didn’t even need to hear the rest of the sentence.

I wasn’t in the mood for anything today.

Because I finally realized what had been bothering me all along.

A whole year’s worth of data had finally processed, and the results were in.

The numbers on the calculator had changed.

In that classroom, he and I were both looking at Han Junwoo.

No—let me correct that.

He was looking at Han Junwoo.

I was looking at him, looking at Han Junwoo.

I moved my hand, and the cross on my rosary clinked against the desk.

Then I turned to the nameless kid next to me.

“Forget soccer. Let’s do something else.”

“…Huh? Oh, sure, whatever.”

“How about dodgeball?”

It was childish. But it was a sport where you could legally hit your opponent.

I kept my true thoughts hidden and narrowed my eyes into a smile.

Finally, Kang Jun disappeared from my vision.

Han Junwoo too.

Only a blurry world remained.

I saw the guy in front of me hesitate before nodding.

It was fine.

Up until then, I was just waiting for lunchtime.

I had planned to use the game as an excuse to either land a solid hit on someone’s face or throw up from exhaustion.

But then, fifteen minutes before lunch, the homeroom teacher called Kang Jun to the teacher’s office.

Right in the middle of class.

And Kang Jun, the dumbass, actually went along with it.

He just said, “Yes, sir,” like an idiot and followed.

Fucking moron.

Didn’t even realize the teacher saw him as a pushover.

Well, whatever.

It’s his own damn life to screw up.

I rested my chin on my hand and tapped the edge of my textbook with my mechanical pencil.

The lunch bell rang, and everyone else immediately abandoned Kang Jun to rush to the cafeteria.

Even Han Junwoo.

I… I just never liked running after food like a starving dog.

Wasn’t really hungry either.

One minute. Two minutes. Three, four, five.

The noise from the hallway bled into the classroom.

Then the door opened, and a pale face stepped in.

On instinct, my eyes shut.

Even as my hand trembled slightly, fumbling awkwardly along the desk.

My right hand was useless.

I wanted to cut it off right then and there.

Steady footsteps approached.

They stopped in front of me.

And my breath stopped too.

That quiet presence lingered at my desk.

My stiff right hand twitched, knocking against the desk with an awkward tap.

Finally, a calm voice came down to me.

“Yohan.”

“……”

Fuck off.

I don’t feel like talking to you.

Fucking gay bastard.

“You didn’t turn in your permission slip? The teacher said they’re checking them soon, but yours wasn’t there.”

“……”

"Just in case. I have a spare one, so use that and submit it."

The rustling sound was accompanied by the faint smell of gray recycled paper beneath my nose. I heard footsteps again, and I slowly opened my eyes. Right in front of me was the school notice that the homeroom teacher had insisted I turn in a few days ago. I raised my hand, brushing over the rough texture of the paper, and suddenly, a thought struck me.

I shot up from my seat.

"Hey, you...!"

You knew my name? You actually knew it?

That’s what I wanted to ask.

That was all I needed to ask. But Kang Jun was already gone.

A wave of emptiness washed over me. What a miserable, pathetic sight—running out of here like that in a hurry. Was it just to eat with that bastard Han Junwoo? That useless piece of shit.

"Kang Jun? He’s a pushover. A smart pushover. He acts like he’s different, but he just sucks up to whoever’s at the top. That’s all he is."

I once overheard someone say that. Their words lingered in my ears.

The older I got, the smaller my hands felt. I kept realizing that there were too many things I couldn’t hold onto. Sand, for example—it slips right through your fingers.

This was just like that.

The arrogance of a seventeen-year-old, the illusion I had—slipping through the cracks of my palm once again.

After that, I heard that Han Junwoo had, on his own, decided not to participate in dodgeball.

I snapped a mechanical pencil in half with one hand.

****

“Did you know that Edison was originally a dumbass?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Yohan, this again? He said the same thing back in freshman year. Hey, don’t listen to him. Just don’t. If you hear him out, he’ll just keep repeating it like a damn chant. If you don’t want your ears to bleed, act like you didn’t hear anything.”

“Edison was originally a dumbass with shitty grades who got expelled from school. They even sent a letter home about it. Something like, ‘Your kid’s too fucking stupid, and there’s no teacher willing to waste their time on him. Might as well put him to work instead.’ But do you know what his mother said after receiving that letter? She told people that the school had said, ‘Your son is too brilliant for any teacher to handle, so he needs private education at home.’ And Edison went his whole life thinking he was a genius. When in reality, he was a dumbass all along. Fascinating, isn’t it, my dear friends?”

“Oh, maybe he got struck by lightning and turned into a genius. Right? Wait, saying that sounds kind of messed up.”

“This bastard… He’s got something real shady about him. Don’t you think so? Yohan?”

I didn’t answer the question. I’d already said my piece, and that was enough. Edison’s story was too good to only tell once or twice a day. Whether the kids found it amusing or not didn’t matter to me. It wasn’t like they were my friends. I wasn’t about to waste my time on people I’d only share a classroom with temporarily. I just needed to say whatever I felt like. With that thought, I got up from my seat with ease.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Why do you care, you dumb fucks? You stalking me or something?”

“Are you going to the bathroom? I’ll come with.”

“No, fuck off. Don’t even think about stepping foot in there until I get back. I want to use it alone.”

“I mean, it’s my piss, I’ll take it whenever I want—”

“I said don’t. Do I look like I’m joking to you?”

Unfortunately, I hold grudges. Just because I was having fun talking didn’t mean I’d let shit slide. If someone ignored what I was saying, they didn’t deserve to take a piss. I tapped Choi Dong—wait, what was the rest of his name again? Whatever—on the forehead, right where his hairline started, and laughed.

The class was thrown into confusion. Some guy stammered, “Wait, seriously? You’re not serious, right?” while the others started laughing at him.

“Piss your pants, got it?”

I tapped his forehead, chest, and both shoulders lightly before leaving. I smiled the whole way—at least until I stepped past the classroom door.

The moment I was

{N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t}

in the hallway, my smile vanished. I strode forward, my steps quick, almost like I was running.

Kang Jun wasn’t in the classroom. Han Junwoo wasn’t either. That could only mean one thing. Those dumbasses were probably watching each other smoke again.

What’s so fucking great about smoking?

There isn’t a bigger idiot than a guy who thinks it makes him look cool.

Kang Jun likes Han Junwoo.

Kang Jun is a sneaky little fucker.

He hides that nasty little secret of his so well that no one ever notices. Nobody realizes that he’s got a thing for Han Junwoo. They just think he’s a pushover. That he’s nice.

Nice?

No. Absolutely fucking not. Kang Jun isn’t nice.

I confirmed that for myself in the cafeteria a few days ago.

“Hey, wanna eat together?”

I asked the moment I saw Han Junwoo and Kang Jun eating together, just the two of them. I wasn’t even sure why I did it. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe something else. Either way, as I set my tray down, I stared at Kang Jun. And Kang Jun stared right back.

Or rather, glared.

Oh, would you look at that?

I let out a small laugh.

After that, I started acting all chummy with Han Junwoo. And sure enough, Kang Jun started looking at me instead of him. That was funny, so I kept it up.

There was another thing. I stopped calling him Kang Jun and just called him Jun. I knew exactly why I did it. I wanted to be special. Everyone else called him Kang Jun, but if I called him Jun, then he’d always respond to me first out of everyone.

I like being special.

This time, I stuffed Kang Jun inside a locker. The kid was so scrawny that he actually fit inside. The more time I spent getting closer to him, the more the Kang Jun in my head developed a voice. Usually, it was saying things like, “I’m sorry.” “I won’t do it again.” “I’ll never mess with you again.”

I could hear his pathetic little sounds behind the closed locker door.

Too bad for him. He should’ve treated me better from the start.

The closer I got to Han Junwoo, the more Kang Jun started acting like my personal servant. It was disgusting.

And yet people say Kang Jun is smart?

Who the fuck started that dumbass rumor?

Kang Jun is the kind of idiot who’d run to Han Junwoo if he called at 4 a.m.

And the funniest part? He’d still try to act all cool about it.

Like hell he was cool. The guy literally got in a taxi at dawn and ran to a hotel just because Han Junwoo told him to. That’s not cool, dumbass.

Whenever Han Junwoo’s card got declined, Kang Jun paid for it instead. And his friends would always say the same thing.

“Man, Kang Jun is so nice.”

Nice?

That’s nice to you dumb fucks?

Even Han Junwoo bragged about it.

“Kang Jun’s really nice. I’m lucky to have him as a friend.”

Hearing that, I shut my eyes and imagined shoving a rubber ball into Han Junwoo’s mouth.

At the start of the semester, I got curious. One night, I stayed out until dawn just to see if Kang Jun would really go running the moment Han Junwoo called. And wouldn’t you know it, that dumbass actually did.

Does he really think being called nice is a compliment?

Some priest once said that God helps those who help themselves.

So, I thought I’d help Kang Jun out.

Out of the kindness of my heart, of course.

I wasted my time hanging around Han Junwoo, watching him break the law like some dumbass. Everyone seemed to like having me around, so I generously tolerated them.

And when it got late, I’d drag Han Junwoo’s group out somewhere else.

Some moments were annoying, sure.

But hey, Kang Jun’s nice.

And an idiot.

Though, to be fair, I don’t have much room to talk. I spend almost every day fucking him dry.

Annoyingly enough, Han Junwoo actually liked what I was doing.

He said it made sneaking off for sex easier.

Other guys his age looked too much like actual high schoolers, apparently.

The fuck kind of logic is that?

Who the hell does he think he is, rating people like that?

I only let it slide because I’m nice. If I was even a little less patient, I would’ve shoved a soju bottle into his mouth and killed him on the spot.

Why does Kang Jun treat Han Junwoo so well?

Is it really because he’s so fucking amazing, like people say?

If that’s the case, then this is bullshit.

If I had been in Kang Jun’s class back in freshman year instead of Han Junwoo, then Kang Jun would have been devoting himself to me.

Just imagining Kang Jun running over at 4 a.m. to hand me his credit card sent blood rushing straight to my dick.

“Lucky bastard, Han Junwoo.”

“Huh?”

Han Junwoo leaned back in his chair, tilting his head toward me.

God, I wanted to grab his ears and rip them off.

I slowly leaned forward and said it again.

"Die."

"Oh, what now? Are you losing your shit again?"

"It’s not me losing my shit. It’s a warning."

"A warning for what?"

"Your future."

Han Junwoo looked at me like I was talking nonsense again, but I had no intention of kindly explaining it to him piece by piece. I straightened my back and got up from my chair, using only the strength in my legs. Then, I grabbed my phone from the desk.

What pictures did I have in here again? Was the one of Kang Jun lying on the mat in his gym clothes still saved?

"If English comes looking for me, tell them I went to the nurse’s office."

"You don’t smoke."

"I’m going to take a piss."

"Yohan, stop pissing so much, man. You’re gonna crack the toilet at this rate. You got insane stamina or some shit."

"……."

I just shrugged at Kim Seokmin’s comment, but Han Junwoo said nothing. He just looked back and forth between my phone and me.

I could tell what he was thinking.

Han Junwoo must’ve understood exactly what I meant by taking a piss.

Of course. Filthy perverts like him are different.

Then, he twisted his lips into a smirk and said,

"You’re about to go fuck someone."

"Nah, not this time."

"I’ll set you up. I know someone."

Han Junwoo ignored my response and ran his fingers along his jaw like some smug asshole. I smiled sweetly at him and flipped him off.

"Syphilitic fuck. Keep your STDs to yourself."

Without waiting for a reply, I left the classroom.

With my hands in my pockets, I strolled down the hallway, thinking to myself.

How should I kill Han Junwoo?

The opportunity came faster than I expected.

Everyone who knew me said the same thing.

Go Yohan was lucky.

That he lived a life favored by the gods, like a true fanatic.

Me? If they took one look at my home life, they’d never say that.

I was a throwaway kid after middle school.

I clung to religion just to survive in that house. I wanted to be saved.

But fate’s wheel always seemed to roll right past me.

Neither giving me the best, nor the worst.

I had no interest in some rice-ball-looking transfer student who showed up in the middle of the semester. But Kang Jun—oh, Kang Jun—he was so kind to that little rice ball.

That dumbass was a pushover through and through.

Kang Jun was nice.

He was genuinely nice.

Pathetically so.

How the hell was he planning to survive in life when he was this soft?

Kang Jun is nice.

Some rich only child who sometimes acted like an entitled little shit.

He was dull, but still, nice.

That’s what everyone said.

Kang Jun is nice.

He can be a little rude sometimes.

And he’s always boring.

Spending time with Kang Jun, I understood why they said that.

His personality was so not my type.

Kang Jun was nice, but I was too nice, too.

Ha. Being too soft-hearted is really a curse.

That’s why I had to help the poor little lamb with love.

Yeah, love.

He was wasting his life pining over that slutty devil, Han Junwoo.

I’d help him just long enough, and then I’d toss him aside.

Because, honestly, Kang Jun was fucking boring.

He was the type of guy you’d get sick of after playing with a few times.

One time, I messed with him.

I just stared at him—really stared.

And the dumbass got all flustered, touching his own cheek like an idiot.

That was kinda fun to watch, so I stared harder.

Then, finally, Kang Jun spoke.

"…What are you looking at?"

"You’ve got something on your face."

"There’s nothing there. I just checked."

"……."

Ugh. What a boring response.

I was gonna say ugliness, but that would’ve made me look dumb.

Can’t even mess with him properly.

What an annoying brat.

And the way his gaze always felt so cold when he looked at me—it pissed me off.

I smirked right in his face.

Kang Jun barely reacted.

Sometimes, I feel a strange disconnect from my own emotions.

Why the hell did I get so nervous looking at this guy back then?

I don’t get myself sometimes.

Now, to be honest, I don’t feel much anymore.

I must’ve been temporarily insane back in freshman year.

Why the hell was I so fixated on a loser with nothing but a pretty face?

By May, an unspoken rule forms in the classroom.

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And that rule always benefits me.

Like the whole class was tailored around me.

Of course, that’s why I love school more than home.

And my feelings?

They were always in a mess.

But by the time summer rolled in after spring, my classroom would belong to me again.

When that time came, what should I do?

Should I tell everyone that Kang Jun likes Han Junwoo?

He’d cry for sure.

Fuck, I really want to see that.

At the very least, I wanted to see Kang Jun cry.

And once I got over the last bit of hesitation I had left, that would be easy.

The season of evergreens.

I waited for that day.

The day I would be free.

Sometimes, when I saw Kang Jun watching Han Junwoo with that desperate look in his eyes, my mood would swing.

So, I’d imagine Kang Jun’s head shoved underwater in a sink full of water.

His face was the only thing that really turned me on, after all.

When the fuck was he gonna cry?

I had to see it.

I needed to see it.