CHAPTER 35 – In Those Two Weeks (Part 1)

The breakup didn’t feel real. A week passed, and nothing seemed to have changed. Preparing for work, brewing a cup of coffee to put in a tumbler, driving along the congested roads, opening the store, working, and ending the day after coming home.

Surprisingly, Dojun didn’t come to mind. A new CEO had taken over at the hotel, and Seoyeon greeted them. Dojun was nowhere to be seen in the hotel, making it seem as though he had gone on a long business trip somewhere.

She deleted all messages and call logs from her phone. Having erased his contact information, Dojun disappeared as if he had never existed. She even thought that maybe Hwang Dojun, now vanished from both the hotel and her phone, might never have existed in the first place.

She thought that she just had a long dream where Dojun was present, and now she was awake and living in reality. Seoyeon entertained that thought briefly.

She thought that the memories she’d deleted would occasionally come to mind, but they didn’t. There were no sudden flashes of memory.

Instead, she often found herself blank. Like someone who had lost something but couldn’t remember what it was. Seoyeon would often stare blankly outside the glass door.

One day, she drank for a long time with Danmi, who had just finished a lengthy serialization. She worried she might cry, but she didn’t. Instead, she talked a lot and laughed loudly at trivial things.

It wasn’t until a week later that she started to notice a gradual increase in the amount of time she spent in a daze. She had trouble sleeping, and even when she closed her eyes, it felt as though they were open. Her headaches returned, and tinnitus started again. She took painkillers and medication that induced drowsiness. Her body began to feel heavier.

Sleeping late and not getting enough rest made it hard to wake up in the morning. She forced herself to get up and go to work for three days. Then, on Thursday morning, Seoyeon lay in bed, feeling blank, and thought she didn’t want to go to the store. Everything just felt like a bother.

She took a leave and stayed home all day. She wasn’t very hungry, so she just drank water and milk. She browsed the web on her phone but even that felt tedious, so she just lay in bed.

During the day, she dozed off intermittently. Her eyelids would droop as she couldn’t keep them open any longer. She didn’t wash her hair or face. When she went to the bathroom, she felt too tired to walk back, so she sat down. She then lay down on the cold floor and chuckled briefly.

I need to go out to the store.

I need to take a shower.

I need to get my nails done.

I have to go to work tomorrow.

She thought about these things, but soon even thinking felt like a chore, so she closed her eyes. Even when her eyes were closed, her thoughts wouldn’t stop, making her uncomfortable. She forced herself to get up and took more medication. When she felt drowsy, she slept without even pulling up the sheets.

The next day, she took sick leave, citing the flu as an excuse, and rested for three days including the weekend. She lay in bed like a balloon slowly deflating. She hoped that by the time she opened her eyes, she would be completely flat.

When she opened her eyes, it was Sunday afternoon. She couldn’t remember how she spent the time from Thursday to Sunday. Her memories were limited to sleeping, waking up, taking medicine, drinking water, and lying down again. That was all she could remember.

Standing blankly in the middle of the living room, Seoyeon suddenly looked out the window. Warm sunlight was streaming through the veranda window. It was already spring outside, with magnolias and cherry blossoms in bloom.

As she gazed at the blooming trees for a long time, a tear unexpectedly rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. To keep more from coming, she tightly closed her eyes. Holding back the tears, Seoyeon clutched her head with both hands.

Get a grip, Yoon Seoyeon.

Get it together.

She repeated this thought many times. Like a mantra, she recited it over and over. Repeating it, she dragged herself to the bathroom. She turned on the hot water full blast to fill the bathtub.

You can do it. You can get through this. You’ve done it before. You know what this is and how to get through it.

It was worse than this when her mom died. There was a real bottomless void then. It was like being a car that had run out of gas and gradually came to a halt. She could see the road she had to go down, and she could see the destination at the end of it, but she felt lethargic.

Back then, as a college student, she missed classes. After the funeral, she didn’t attend lectures for nearly two weeks until a teaching assistant called her. The warning that she might face academic probation barely got her to class.

On weekends, she lay like a corpse, but during the weekday, she forced herself to move and live. Even when she came home and collapsed, she managed to get up and wash every morning.

Every day, Seoyeon washed, combed her hair, and attended her classes. That was all she could do. Wash, take the subway, go to school, go to class, and come back – that was the best she could do.

Then one day she cut her nails, which had grown long. Another day, realizing she had an exam, she took out her books and read. Eventually, she cleaned her messy desk, and one day, a friend dragged her to a movie.

She lived each day somehow, and after a while, life resumed. So, she could do it. Just move, wash thoroughly, and somehow make it to work. Then, she would eat, talk, and smile again. She knew this would happen.

Seoyeon immersed herself in the bathtub filled with hot water. She wet her face and submerged up to her neck. Once her body felt warm enough, she got up and showered. She scrubbed her face with an exfoliating peel and applied a lot of conditioner. Slowly but thoroughly, she brushed her teeth.

She took out an eyebrow razor from the storage cabinet and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She chanted her mantra while looking at her haggard face.

You can do it.

Seoyeon picked up the eyebrow razor. It was time to clean up the mess.

* * *

Dojun rubbed his bloodshot eyes and pressed each digit of the passcode. Then his hand slipped, pressing the wrong button at the end. 

Tsk, I should have installed a fingerprint lock. 

Because of frequent visitors, he had set a passcode, but every time he drank, he ended up in this mess.

The welcome party and the inauguration reception were over, and the executives’ dinner had left him with more drinks than he could count. The line under President Lee Jang-soo brought strong liquor, challenging him with determination, but he accepted it all with a smile.

Until the end of the gathering, Dojun was the most sober. While the old men around him collapsed like dogs, drooling, he walked out calmly. He put a staggering Secretary Kang into a taxi and called for Driver Kim, who had been waiting.

Once he got into the car, the tension eased, and as it did, the alcohol hit him hard. He told Driver Kim to wait for a moment and got out of the car, still able to stand on his own two feet. But as he waited for the elevator, his knees buckled.

Hoo.

After a few failed attempts, Dojun finally managed to press the right buttons on the keypad and entered his home. The sensor lights flicked on in the previously dark entrance.

He brightly lit the room and quickly shed his top, stumbling into the bathroom. The smell of alcohol was overpowering as he exhaled. Still, it’s his father’s birthday, and he can’t go to the hospital looking like this.