Am I evil? Seungtae looked down at Taeju—at his bruised body, handcuffed and collapsed on its side—and stroked his own chest. Seungtae was well built and sculpted by exercise. He was young and fit, and could be with anyone he wanted. So why did it always end with him and a boy? He had been in a number of serious relationships, but he was always left feeling hollow. This emptiness subsided only when his darkest side emerged.
Then Taeju said, “Shit, give me some water. And do something about these handcuffs.”
Seungtae unlocked the cuffs and brought water back from the kitchen. Taeju gulped it down.
“How are you?” Seungtae asked.
Taeju squinted as if guessing his intent.
“Are you okay?”
Taeju rubbed at his hurt wrist instead of answering.
“If you ever get caught running a light or something, call me. A burglary or attack is tougher.”
“Can I leave now?”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“What was it?”
“About that guy, Jae.”
“Do you know Mokran? The girl who rides a Kawasaki. She’s kind of famous . . . She’s my ex.”
Seungtae wasn’t really interested in the girls. “I don’t know her.”
“She’s dating him, I guess. His crew’s on fire these days.”
“More than yours?”
“They’re smaller in number, but different. You should meet him sometime.” The corners of his lips lifted meaningfully.
“Different? In what way?”
“The fucker’s different. Just one look and you know. Can I go now?”
“Yeah. Next time you get a text from this big brother, don’t ignore it. I’ll get you for that.”
Just before he stepped out of the doorway, Taeju bowed and said, “Thank you for the fucked-up experience. Drive carefully when you’re out at night, you perv.”
He banged the door shut and stomped down the stairs. Seungtae didn’t follow him. He grinned to himself. If Taeju acted like this, there would be no loose ends later. Boys like Taeju had mixed feelings about yielding to violence. They couldn’t separate accepting it as the defeated one, and morally rejecting it. He saw this in the most pathetic ones, who believed if they lost to someone stronger, they had to accept the consequences. It wasn’t that they didn’t want revenge, but they didn’t think they had the right to complain. This was probably why the sexual abuse of boys stayed hidden for so long, or even remained buried forever.
At the balcony, Seungtae saw the late spring snow falling outside. He slid open the glass door, extended his arm toward the chilly snowflakes.