Page 37 of Obsession of the Egoist
“Why? I’m being honest. Let me into your life, and I’ll be by your side no matter what. I’ll never walk away even if things are too complicated. I won’t betray you.”
Kuon shook his head, as weakness overtook his heart. Rick’s words stirred a weird longing in his soul.Maybe I should move on. Maybe I can leave everything behind and start anew? Maybe, if I let him love me, I will develop feelings for him. Just like with Yugo.
Kuon breathed, dropping his chin. “Let me think.”
Rick didn’t move, but Kuon felt the instant change in the air so clearly as if he could see the happiness and hope lighting up Rick’s black eyes.
CHAPTER 10
A FEW DAYS PASSED,but nothing changed. Kuon couldn’t give Rick a reply, as whenever he looked into the future, all he saw was his past. He wanted things he could no longer have, and those thoughts drowned him faster than a sinking anchor ever could. He feared them. He avoided them. He ran away from them. To escape thinking, he turned to training. The more he worked out, the lighter his head became.
Wearing his tennis shoes and sport shorts, Kuon stood with his back pressed against the wall. The remote control in his hand, he waited—neurotic and impatient. As soon as the door closed behind Rick’s back, Kuon turned the volume up, picked a music channel, and dropping to the floor, started counting push-ups.
Energy streamed through his veins, firing up every cell. His muscles sang, blood boiled, and habitual, white lightness, saturating, pushed every thought out of his head. Working out had often been boring. Without Rick’s support, Kuon didn’t risk heavy-lifting and only worked with simple exercises using his body weight. But even with the limited set of exercises, Kuon still managed to reach that endorphin high where nothing bothered him. He’d also found a way to cope with his unsettled emotions. Whenever alone, Kuon poured out his built-up frustration into the punching bag that Rick had bolted to the ceiling. After wrapping his hands, he could punch the bag for hours. By the time Rick got home, Kuon had always been so exhausted that there was no aggression left in his body.
Today he craved the whiteness more than ever. Rick’s words still swirled in his head, forcing him to think about his future and face the fact that he had no idea how to move on. Sometimes the weakness in his heart grew stronger. At moments like this, he wondered if Yugo had a place in his future, but no matter how hard he tried to imagine such a relationship in his life, he simply couldn’t. It looked like only physical attraction connected them. Kuon didn’t belong in Yugo’s world any more than Yugo belonged in his.
Do I smile like an idiot every time he comes? So embarrassing… Rick is right. I should let the past go. I should tell Yugo not to visit anymore, or I can never move on. Why do I even think about him? Why did I touch him, kiss him? It doesn’t make any sense.
Strike after strike Kuon desperately thrashed the heavy sand-filled bag. Trying to kill the suffocating, dark emotions, he didn’t notice the endless shrill of the doorbell through the loud music. The rhythm lost, he turned the TV off. Silence flooded his ears, sending a chill down his spine. He hated silence. In his darkest fears, the hell he would definitely go to didn’t consist of torture and physical pain. It was filled with eternal silence and darkness; maddening non-existence where he would slowly forget the faces of the people he loved and even his own name. Shifting from one foot to the other, he wondered if he’d hallucinated the doorbell when the shrieking repeated.
Who could that be?Kuon wondered, throwing the remote control to the sofa.Did Rick forget the key? Or maybe the music was too loud, and the neighbors are angry?Maybe Yugo?
One foot in front of the other, he stretched out his hand and counted steps. When the texture under his foot changed to soft and bouncy rag, his palm touched the wooden door. The lock rattled, he pulled the door open.
Silence greeted him, as a small draft chilled his sweat. He waited, but no one spoke, and he wondered if it had been a prank. Scowling, he wanted to close the door, when a quiet female voice greeted him. “Hi.”
Familiar notes in her timbre made him strain his ears. Wondering where he had met her, he said, “Hi.”
No reply. Kuon hated awkward silence, so before the pause stretched further, he said with a smile, “Sorry, I have a bad memory for faces. Would you remind me where we have met?”
A chuckle reached his ears. The sound let him confirm her height—she stood at least a head shorter than him. He dropped his chin, wishing she would say something else, so he could identify her.
“We met in the hospital.” Her soft yet throaty voice stirred the memory.
“Oh…” he managed, remembering the crying woman and her story.
“I’m sorry I came like this. I should have called, but something told me you wouldn’t open the door if I did. May I come in?”
Kuon didn’t move, realizing where this situation headed.
“I’m sorry; I’m busy right now.” He tried to close the door, but something resisted him. Fearing to hurt the woman if he pushed harder, he heaved a sigh. “Listen, whatever you have to say, I’m not interested.”
“Have you eaten? I brought pizza. It’s going to get cold,” she paused, then added, “Please, let me in.” When he didn’t reply, she repeated, “Please?”
Fuck…He stepped aside, letting the woman in.I’ll so regret it.
The floral scent washed over him as she passed by. He closed the door.
“Do you live alone?” she asked, and Kuon wondered if she examined his apartment for signs of a woman’s presence.
“No. I live with a friend due to the circumstances.” Slapping the wall with his palm, he moved toward the living room, turned right, and grabbed the backrest of the sofa. Sitting down, he said, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you.” A soft rustle reached him from his left, and he cocked his head, listening.
“I wasn’t sure what you drink, so I only brought ice tea.”
Hating the small talk, Kuon said nothing.
