What Would I Even Need a Car For?

"I mean, it's not like I ever need to drive?"

Young-baek dragged Ji-su's americano over to his side of the table as if it were his own, gulping it down while shooting her a look that asked why she was even giving it to him in the first place.

"What, like you never need to drive? You don't even have a license."

Ever since his license had been revoked for drunk driving back in his twenties, Young-baek had been unlicensed this entire time. She'd been grateful when he handed over the secondhand car as a congratulations-on-your-first-job gift, but more than half of the times that car had ever been used, it was Young-baek and his mother playing chauffeur. For a mother and son who called her out every single time they needed a ride, Ji-su had truly given all she had to give.

Sensing that something about Ji-su's energy was off — the way she picked apart his flaws with a frosty expression, flicking each one out like a dart — Young-baek belatedly started reading the room. He straightened up from his slack, slouched posture, sat properly, and began trying to placate her.

"Don't tell me... our Ji-su is sulking because I went to see your mom and just came right back up? Why is your sulk lasting so long this time?"

"...I'm sulking?"

"Come ooon... be human about this! It was seriously hot that day. You know better than anyone how much I can't stand the heat. Should I go back down now? It's cooled off since. By the way, where's my drink? Why hasn't it come out yet?"

"Haah. You exhaust me, oppa."

It had already been nearly two weeks since her trip to Gyechon-ri. Aside from the time she'd spent with Jae-gyeom, she hadn't dodged a single one of the calls Young-baek had relentlessly made to her phone. Every time it rang, she picked up and told him, in all seriousness, that it was over. When he showed up at her door, she told him she had nothing more to say to him, to stop coming around, that she'd call the police if he kept it up — and he'd ignored all of it completely. And now that she was the one who had reached out first and invited him to sit down, this was all he had to say.

"Oppa. I'm going to say this clearly today. Listen carefully. I told you properly that I wanted to break up, but you keep treating it like some minor lovers' quarrel. Let's settle this."

"Why do you have to be so scary about it? Hm? We have years together, after all..."

That damn years together. She was going to develop a phobia of the phrase. Ji-su's brow creased hard.

"Take the car keys. If it had truly been a gift to me, I'd have sent it to the scrapyard already, but the title isn't in my name, so I couldn't. And since you can't drive anyway, I left the car parked in the lot at your mother's store."

"Ji-su, come on—"

"Oppa. Our six years — just like you and your mother always said, because I was a student, because I was poor, because I didn't know enough about the world — I understand there were things you sacrificed for and put up with. But I went to your family's house every holiday and did the chores, worked the register at your family's mart, and dutifully played chauffeur on top of all that. So I think I've done my share. This is where it ends."

It was the first time Ji-su had ever delivered the words of a breakup perfectly, without a single stumble. Even said face to face, looking straight into his eyes, there wasn't a tremor of emotion in her voice — and somehow that left a bitter taste. She shook off Young-baek's grasping hands without a moment's hesitation and walked straight out of the cafe.

He'd never been on the receiving end of a breakup announcement this solemn before, and even Young-baek was badly rattled. He fumbled his phone out in a panic and dialed.

"Mom! What do I do? Im Ji-su broke up with me! I think she means it this time! She gave me the scariest look. Ugh, damn it. So annoying. This is why I kept telling you I don't like her!"

As for what Young-baek did after being left alone in that cafe, Ji-su couldn't have cared less. She didn't so much as glance back over her shoulder as she made her way home. She wanted to celebrate herself. She'd eat something delicious, watch a movie solo, maybe. She was going to throw out everything in her life that reminded her of Kim Young-baek. It was going to be a busy weekend.

"To the glamorous single life of my best friend Im Ji-su!"

Ji-su's plan to spend the weekend doing this and that on her own was rendered utterly useless by Eun-mi, who showed up hauling an armful of alcohol. She'd lost count of how many cans of beer they'd clinked together to the same toast.

Before she knew it, Eun-mi was pleasantly drunk, raising her voice as she chewed on some dried squid.

"Dude. You know the parking lot at the entrance of your building? That shit car was always parked there, and I can't even tell you how much it grated on my nerves every time I came over. But now it's gone and I feel so free."

"Pffthahaha. God, that's hilarious."

"...What's so funny."

"Nothing. Just... yeah. That's a thing."

Yoon Jae-gyeom had gone on about the shit car exactly the same way. With the alcohol warming her, her mood felt lighter. Jae-gyeom kept floating into her thoughts, and Ji-su kept bursting into laughter.

Watching her giggle away, Eun-mi lowered her voice as though making some grand proposal.

"Hey. You should do some blind dates. I could set you up with like twenty guys. All of them miles better than that sad excuse of a man."

"No thanks."

"Ah... well, fair. I guess the way to get over heartbreak is to jump straight into a new romance. You're all relieved and refreshed right now, so you probably don't need it."

Eun-mi, who knew every tedious chapter of her six-year relationship, shuddered.

At last, Ji-su had peeled the scales from her own eyes. Now that she'd stopped straining to see Kim Young-baek in a good light, everything stood out in sharp focus. She dredged up her innermost feelings with some difficulty.

"Eun-mi, I don't have to shrivel up just because I spent six years dating, right?"

"Obviously not."

Young-baek had hated seeing women drink, so Ji-su had never once been drunk in her life.

"I'm going to do whatever I want from now on. First thing on the list: finish all this booze tonight and get properly wasted."

"Now you're talking. This unnie is with you all the way. Tomorrow's Sunday anyway, so let's eat, drink, and die happy. No work to go to — bring it on! One more time — congratulations, Im Ji-su!"

The toasts kept coming, and they drank on for a long while. They even walked to the convenience store in front of her building and bought more alcohol.

"Okay now, I think we're like... really really drunk... Hey, Im Ji-su! Is there anything else you wanna try?"

Eun-mi asked, her pronunciation shot to pieces. Ji-su, floating on air as if she'd climbed aboard a cloud, pondered what else she wanted to do.

While she was still thinking, Eun-mi, who'd been waiting for an answer, nodded off and slid gently sideways. Ji-su fetched a blanket and draped it over her. The clock read 2:12 a.m. It was her first time getting blackout drunk in her life, so she didn't know: that when a drunken early morning and a phone meet, regret always follows.

A hazy, floating spirit possessed her like some mischievous ghost. She picked up her phone and unlocked it.

She'd already deleted Jae-gyeom's contact, but when she unblocked him on her messenger, Yoon Jae-gyeom reappeared in her chat list. She found herself wanting to talk to him. Whether it was the drunk Ji-su's true heart, or the feelings she'd locked away before the alcohol ever touched her lips finally bursting free, she couldn't have said.

Father! There is no call for this — none at all!

For Jae-gyeom, this annual ritual had long since become exhausting. His half-brother Yoon Sung-shik, who looked at him like he wanted to eat him alive the moment they were in the same room. And his father, the chief architect of this godawful gathering. It was a combination that, thrown together in one place, could not have produced a single genuine laugh between the three of them.

Yet his father insisted on summoning his two sons to a hotel sauna every year on his own birthday. The men of the family, he decreed, must sit facing one another in their most primordial state and share an hour of open-hearted conversation — a pet theory of his that defied all reason.

Whenever the aides and the Daeyun Hotels staff bowed their heads low and offered up their flattery — what a harmonious family you have, sir; such handsome, stalwart sons — his father would swell with pride. To Jae-gyeom, it was an inexplicable, ugly indulgence.

Inside the sauna, where the air was suffocating enough as it was, Sung-shik kept spewing venom.

"That punk doesn't know the first thing about management. Not even the first letter of it. How could you hand him a seat at Motors?"

His father said nothing, simply turning over the hourglass and closing his eyes again.

"Father. Daeyun Motors already started late as it is — we can't even scrape together enough top-tier talent as it stands. Did that boy actually study anything worthwhile in America? It's obvious without even looking that he lived like trash, running around with low-class people."

Jae-gyeom simply watched the whole scene unfold in silence, like a spectator at someone else's show. The resentment stacking itself up layer by layer inside him, he kept carefully off his face.

Who asked me to sit here? Not once — not a single time — have I ever wanted any of this. If the mood soured even a little further, he decided, he would say his piece — I don't want a single seat in the Daeyun Group; leave me to live as I please, as I always have — and walk out of this room for good.