386 Repeating The Past Mistakes 2 (1/2)
Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
”Experiment? What kind?” Young Do asked. Remembering having explained every bit of it to the young editor, Juho blinked awkwardly. The author even remembered the look on his editor's face.
”Did I not tell you?” Juho asked.
”Well, I remember you beating around the bush the entire time, saying things like, 'I had to in order to survive,' or 'The crow told me to do it. I had no choice.' I don't know Mr. Woo, I didn't know how to make sense of the things you were telling me,” Young Do said, and Juho nodded light-heartedly. Young Do had long grown tired of Juho's absurd stories. Although Juho had worked fiercely back then, there was no getting around the anxiety as the time of his past death drew closer and closer. When anxious, people tended to make mistakes.
”You're not gonna tell me, are you?” the editor asked, furrowing his brow. As Juho snickered at the look on his editor's face, Young Do let out a small sigh and said, ”I guess even Yun Woo isn't immune to growing old.”
”I thought that was pretty obvious.”
”A genius boy turned genius middle-aged man.”
”People call me great, you know,” Juho said, furrowing his brow playfully.
”I thought you didn't like that nickname, Mr, Woo…”
”Humans can be fickle like that, you know?”
Juho looked out the window. There was a crow resting on the branch of a big tree. Although high enough off the ground, the bird remained still on the branch, without flying off. Disgruntled by that, Juho rested his chin on his hand.
”I see that the tree is sprouting.”
”It's a big tree.”
”Isn't it already heavy enough?”
”You must be going through a lot if you're that worried about a plant.”
”You know, Mr. Woo, if you keep me on the edge of my seat any longer after having written such an amazing intro, I just might die.”
”You won't die that easily,” Juho said.
Chuckling, Young Do scratched his temple and asked, ”Do you think I can take a look at the ma.n.u.script?”
”Sure thing.”
After going into the room, Juho brought out the ma.n.u.script. With his eyes fixed on it, the editor said, ”Don't you just love the feel of a handwritten ma.n.u.script?”
At that, Juho chuckled quietly. Taking the ma.n.u.script from the author carefully, Young Do started to read through it. Juho's clean, well-trimmed handwriting made for an easy reading experience. Although Young Do noticed the author's penmans.h.i.+p deteriorate as the story progressed, he didn't go out of his way to point that out.
”This story reminds of 'The Great Gatsby.'”
A wealthy partier, Gatsby was a character who wrestled with his hypocritical inner self. As he had done as a young author, Juho had blended two distinctive writing styles into a single story, which enabled him to depict the inner thoughts of the protagonist more effectively. However, despite the tremendous potential for success, the story was yet to be completed. At the thought of the story collecting dust in the corner of a storage room, Young Do clenched the ma.n.u.script tightly in his hands.
”Of all places…” Young Do murmured as if sighing, but covered his mouth in a hurry.
Smiling, Juho said, ”You know, I really like that you're an honest man.”
”I'm sorry, Mr. Woo. I'll be more careful.”
Shrugging, Juho asked, ”Well, what did you think?”
After staring at the words on the ma.n.u.script quietly and briefly, the young editor cautiously studied Juho's expression. In response, Juho nodded, as if giving him permission to speak his mind.
”I think you're being a bit of a perfectionist here. I mean, it's still the first draft.”
”I agree,” Juho said, admitting it willingly and catching the young editor off guard. Walking toward the refrigerator, he asked, ”Drink?”
”It's still light out, Mr. Woo. Besides, I have plans later. Wait, do you really have alcohol in your refrigerator?”
”I kept a bottle for a certain occasion.” When Young Do looked back to check whether Juho really had alcohol in his refrigerator, he saw Juho grabbing a bottle of water. Returning to his seat, the author added, ”I want this story to be better than any other story that I've written. Those are my honest feelings.”
”Why?” Young Do asked.
”Think of it as the grand finale.”
At that, an alarmed look appeared on the young editor's face.
”Wait, you're not retiring, are you, Mr. Woo!?”
”Me? Retire? That'd be absurd. I'm at the peak of my career.”
”Well, there are authors who say that they want to retire when they're at the height of their writing careers.”
”Well, I can tell you right now that's not gonna be me. I'm not going anywhere, even if people say that I'm too old to write.”
”Then, what did you mean by grand finale?”
Instead of giving him an answer, Juho rubbed his chin and asked, ”... Have you ever felt like you knew when you were gonna die?”
”I'm sorry?”
”Did you ever have a premonition that you'd die soon?”
”I don't know… I mean, sure, I ask myself what would happen after I died, but… I'm still thirty.”
”Young and free.”
”So… On that note,” Young Do said nervously, and Juho waved his hand to rea.s.sure his editor.
”What I mean to say is that I always write like it's going to be my last story.”
”Oh, right. That makes sense,” the young editor said, nodding and adding, ”That's very admirable of you, Mr. Woo. The better the book, the better for the publisher.”
There was no need to rave on any longer when the author himself was well aware of the problematic areas in the ma.n.u.script.
”I'm counting on you, Mr. Woo. We'll push back that deadline for now, but I hope you can finish it in time this time,” Young Do said, and Juho shrugged nonchalantly. ”Well, that's that. Oh! Have you given it some thought?”
”About?”
”... C' mon, Mr. Woo. You said you'd consider it when we talked about it last time, remember? Judging?”
”Oh, that. I decided not to.”
At that, Young Do dropped his head. His face was filled with disappointment. At the same time, he seemed to have expected Juho to turn him down.
”I can't say that I'm surprised,” Young Do said.