233 A Bug On His Forehead 1 (1/2)
Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
”Oh, man. This is almost too good to keep it to myself.”
”Please try not to go around starting a rumor.”
”You gotta admit it, though. I think your teacher has a valid point, too.”
”That is true,” Juho said, with a mouthful of abalone. Similarly, a shrimp went into Sang's mouth before anybody even realized it, and he was chewing it despite the young author staring at him. By the time the meal was coming to an end, the romance writer brought up the reason for going all the way to San Jung's house in the middle of nowhere. After explaining what he wanted to interview her about, he brought up the name of a professor with whom San Jung was acquainted.
”I was wondering if you could introduce me.”
”I don't have a reason to say no. Although, you could've just called me for something like that.”
”C'mon now, San Jung. If I were to call instead of visit you, when would we, or anybody for that matter, ever have the opportunity to see each other's faces? We live in a world where most things in life can be taken care of with just a few mouse clicks. Relations.h.i.+ps are growing less and less significant, and that's a sad reality.” Sang made a surprisingly moving remark. However, San Jung knew better.
”You're here to get data from me, aren't you?”
”Just a quick look while I'm here.”
Meanwhile, letting the two authors converse, Juho was looking out the window at the mountain. What looked like a black plastic bag shone among the trees.
At that moment, Sang blurted out all of a sudden, as if exposing a ma.s.sive piece of information, ”San Jung, did you know that this kid is already thinking about his next book?”
”Already?” San Jung asked, taken aback. Because she was in the habit of writing over a long period of time, she appeared to be impressed by the pace at which the young author wrote.
”I thought of something I wanted to write about. Whether it's something worth publis.h.i.+ng or not, we'll have to see.”
”It's about love,” Sang interjected, and San Jung took turns looking at the romance writer and Juho.
”Love? After winning the Nebula? Not bad.”
”You think so?”
”Have you ever been in love, though?”
As San Jung asked, Sang interjected yet again, answering on Juho's behalf, ”He has, apparently, but he doesn't wanna talk about it. He's a cheap shot, that one.”
”He's around that age. It makes sense that he'd be sensitive about it. Does that mean you're dating right now?”
”No, he isn't. If he had a girlfriend, do you think he would be here eating some abalone with us?” Sang said, pointing out the answer precisely. Just as he had said, if Juho really had a girlfriend, then he wouldn't have had the reason to go to a theme park with Sang.
Then, Juho opened his mouth and changed the subject, ”Well, it's still in its planning stage.”
”You'll draw a lot of attention,” San Jung said, sharing her experience shortly after. She, too, remembered being caught off guard by the kind of attention she and her writing had received after winning the international award in Italy.
”The award changed everything, including the sales figures. That's how much power an award carries, and I can only imagine how much worse it will be for you since you're carrying all those t.i.tles already. Drawing attention will be inevitable.”
”That sounds… c.u.mbersome.”
”You don't even have to try to outdo yourself, but you cannot backslide. You know that, right?” San Jung said dispa.s.sionately. Although Juho was already aware, he paused briefly in order to think of a response, but gave up shortly after, smiling.
”It still doesn't change what I need to do.”
San Jung nodded at the young author's response.
”If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, like this guy.”
”Let's all go to the ravine. How's that sound?” the romance writer said, resting his chin on his hand as if not fond of conversations about awards. Although the suggestion came out of nowhere, they had already eaten, and Sang had gotten all the information he needed from San Jung, which meant the only thing left to do was to have fun. With that, everyone rose from their seats and prepared to go out.
”The water's crystal clear,” Juho said, looking into the serene creek flowing underneath a small bridge in the mountains. A large rock in the middle was splitting the stream in two. Then, coming down from the bridge, the three sat on the rock. Small fish were clearly visible in the water, and a frog jumped across the water in the distance. The peaceful stream carried all sorts of sounds made by different lifeforms along with it. In the end, Juho couldn't resist taking his socks off and dipping his feet in the water.
”So refres.h.i.+ng,” he said with his feet in the water up to his ankle. The water flowing through between his toes gave him chills. At that moment, he saw a leaf being carried along by the current. Despite his efforts to catch it with his feet for the heck of it, the lone leaf gracefully escaped the young author's grasp and flowed away. Upon kicking, the water splashed in all directions.
”You behave, now.”
”Come dip your feet in the water.”
”No, thanks. It's way too cold.”
Sitting on top of a mat, the two older authors seemed like they had no intention of getting up. Nevertheless, it was apparent by their expressions that they were enjoying the moment. Then, as Juho dipped his hand in the water and flicked it in their direction, Sang took a branch that was lying around and chucked it into the water, making a big splash.
”Wow, that's some payback. You didn't even move an inch.”
”Retaliation with no repercussion. That's what I believe to be of true revenge.”
”Attaboy,” San Jung said, taking a hard-boiled egg she had brought from her house and smas.h.i.+ng it against the romance writer's head.