From a young age, I liked animals.
More precisely, I liked animals that weren’t humans. The word ‘beasts’ is more appropriate. I liked beasts.
Unlike humans, beasts do not bully others.
How peaceful their world is. They graze peacefully without harming others and frolic in dreamlands. At least that’s what I learned from cartoons as a child.
I still vividly remember the day that illusion was shattered.
Whenever I went to the big supermarket with my mother, I always visited the pet corner. There, I would beg her to buy me a turtle, beg her to buy me a rabbit, beg her to buy me a hamster.
Fortunately, my wise mother never bought me a beast, and my foolish self would pout and just look around before leaving every time.
Even just looking wasn’t so bad, really.
Originally, writing novels was a way to release my emotions. So, no matter how dark the novel, I felt my hatred, depression, and jealousy being flowing out.
But this time, it’s the opposite. Writing about dark themes is causing my clear mind to be tainted by darkness. My thoughts are getting complicated, and I can’t sleep well.
On one hand, it was also an interesting experience.
Do other novelists usually go through such hardships? Thinking that this might be proof of my gradual improvement, I also felt it wasn’t entirely bad.
So I responded without hesitation to Gu Yubin’s concern.
“Are you really okay…?”
“Yes, I really am fine.”
Even so, the worry didn’t disappear from Gu Yubin’s face, so I changed the subject first.
Naturally, I began by mentioning the reason I met her today.
“By the way, congratulations on the success of your novel. I had to suddenly go to Japan, so my congratulations are quite late.”
Gu Yubin, having received so many congratulatory messages, sipped her coffee with a familiar smile.
Then, with a playful expression, she asked me back.
“But shouldn’t I be the one congratulating you? Dongsaeng?”
“Your ‘Guitar’ swept both Korea and Japan. It’s on a whole different level than my brief moment in the sun with this year’s annual spring literary contest, isn’t it?”
Gu Yubin’s popularity was not at the level of a ‘brief moment in the sun’ at this year’s annual spring literary contest. She had now become a real celebrity, not just a quasi-celebrity.
So, I modestly declined her congratulations.
“That’s not my success but the success of the director who made a great movie. I was just lucky.”
This was not only a humble expression but also my true feelings. Success in the market is a matter of luck.
The luck of being born beautiful, the luck of having talent shine at a young age, the luck of people’s attention turning your way…
Aren’t too many things determined the moment you’re born? So there’s no need to be too happy, nor too sad.
But Gu Yubin had achieved success twice on two different timelines. Her success was more due to her abilities than luck. Whether it was her appearance or her skills.
Since I was the only one who knew about such achievements, I did my best to congratulate Gu Yubin on her success. She deserved the congratulations.
No, there’s no need to have such negative thoughts. It seems that the depression that seeped in while writing the novel hasn’t left my head.
Or maybe my head is a bit sensitive from having my day and night reversed.
Just then, Gu Yubin questioned my muttering.
“No, it’s just… just talking to myself…”
I was about to brush it off but then decided there was no need to hide it. She is a novelist too.
“Actually, lately, I’ve been writing a novel, and since the content is so dark, I’ve been feeling pretty gloomy too…”
“And I can’t sleep well either… It’s like that.”
Hearing my words, Gu Yubin’s expression turned serious.
“…Has it always been ?”
“No, no, I used to be fine before.”
“You might have depression. Writing while chipping away at your emotions is really harmful-”
“Really. I tried changing my writing method this time.”
As expected of Gu Yubin, she stopped worrying and showed curiosity as soon as literature was mentioned.
I shared with her the insights I’d recently gained. And also the lessons that Gu Yuna had taught me.
Gu Yubin, who had been listening quietly for a long time, murmured her sister’s name in a small voice.
“So I decided to look for the motif of the novel outside. It didn’t seem like a wrong idea.”
Gu Yubin nodded as if she understood.
“Certainly… ‘Red Hunter’ also contained personal content rather than taking motifs from history.”
“Hmm! Then this writing must be a significant literary challenge. How does it feel?”
Listening to Gu Yubin, I looked inside my heart again. And there, I found a small thrill.
“It feels a bit like writing my debut work.”
“Yes. Because for the first time, I’m writing about the world, not about myself. In a way, it feels like I’m taking my first step as a novelist.”
“The world of literature is indeed vast.”
“…Debut? Rookie? You?”
From Gu Yubin’s bewildered expression, I read the emotion of ‘What the hell is he talking about?’
Come on, can’t I feel like a rookie for a bit?
The place where I met Gu Yubin was a cafe in the city center. Of course, it wasn’t like we set up an appointment to meet there. That would seem too much like a date.
Although Gu Yubin hasn’t done anything wrong to me recently, there remains a slight feeling of unease about her, like a baby-Hitler.
This is because I’ve been subjected to so many verbal abuses from Gu Yubin that I can’t help it. Especially now that she’s starting to show her old self more frequently since she started frequenting the broadcasting scene after graduating high school, my trauma switch keeps getting triggered.
So, our meeting was purely coincidental. We were both invited to the same literary award ceremony, and we decided to meet at the cafe beforehand to chat for a bit.
When the scheduled time approached, we moved together to the venue where the literary award ceremony was being held.
There, Lim Yang-wook was waiting for us.
Lim Yang-wook didn’t greet us with his usual sly remarks.
“Ah, the writers are here.”
It’s ‘are here’ not ‘You’re here?’. He’s notifying someone of our arrival.
I quickly scanned the surroundings. Amidst the crowd filling the event hall, I noticed an elderly man standing beside Lim Yang-wook.
He looked extremely kind-hearted.
His neat suit made him look like a gentleman, and his upright posture made him seem middle-aged.
At the same time, his well-groomed beard and white hair enhanced his authority, giving him an overall impression of being very dignified and affluent, like someone from the upper class.
But his face was somehow eerily familiar, and I couldn’t figure out who he was for a while.
“Ah, our Moon In is here.”
It was when I heard his voice that I realized it was Park Chang-woon.
Then my brain, like a robot that heard the phrase ‘This sentence is false’, experienced a Gestalt collapse.
Park Chang-woon without his hanbok and his danso flute? Isn’t it common sense that such a Park Chang-woon couldn’t exist in this world?
The mysterious elderly man spoke to me.