Delusional Love

Jieun led the way to their seats, chattering about the movie. Hyerim trailed behind Yoonwoo, who ended up between them.

“I envy you, Yoonwoo. I wish I could watch it again for the first time,” Jieun said as she pulled out a small white handkerchief and waved it around. “By the way, it’s okay to cry. Men don’t have to hold back tears these days.”

She had been making a fuss like this since they met, eagerly explaining why the movie was a masterpiece and excited about Yoonwoo’s reaction, all without spoiling anything.

As she talked, Yoonwoo couldn’t help but smile. Bet the producers would be pleased with the promo.

“It’s good,” Hyerim interjected, “but Jieun’s a bit dramatic. She still cried on her ninth watch.”

“Hyerim’s emotions are as dry as a desert. Don’t you get how emotionally moving it is?”

“Um… Anyway,” Yoonwoo said, “thanks for organizing the tickets. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

Yoonwoo had no expectations. He planned to say he liked it regardless. The children in the theater made him wonder if Jieun had childlike tastes. He kept picturing her sipping an Oreo shake.

When the commercials ended and the title Inside Out lit up the screen, he suddenly remembered this was the same movie Rabbit had gone to see alone.

As the movie ended, Yoonwoo felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Yoonwoo, are you okay?” Hyerim asked as she handed him a tissue. “Here, use this.”

Jieun sniffled loudly. “See? Hyerim, you’re cold-blooded.”

“I get Yoonwoo, but Unni, why are you crying so much? This is your tenth watch!”

Jieun’s tears had already soaked her handkerchief, and Yoonwoo had already used Hyerim’s tissue to wipe his eyes, so they quickly headed to the restroom. He felt embarrassed as the children who watched with them stared at their reddened eyes.

Inside Out portrayed Riley’s emotions as personified characters guiding her through a move to a new city. When an incident scattered her core memories, her sadness and rebelliousness intensified, leading her to run away.

As her emotions struggled to recover these memories, they inadvertently sacrificed her childhood innocence in the process. However, they made a profound discovery: joy and sadness were inextricably linked in her happiest recollections. A memory of losing a hockey game revealed the comfort found in the support of family and teammates, transforming disappointment into resilience.

The film concluded with Riley’s relieved parents finding her, emphasizing that true happiness lay in sharing life’s struggles with loved ones.

This message struck a painful chord with Yoonwoo. He remembered clearly the day in second grade when he learned that other children received gifts and enjoyed time with their parents on Christmas. Filled with hope, he approached his dad, asking if they could go out somewhere together. His dad’s response, however, was as cold as the December air outside.

“Isn’t Christmas Jesus’s birthday? It’s not yours. Can’t you see I’m on my way out? Why do you think I go through all this trouble every day? What’s the point of having a kid if he’s not considerate? Good grief…”

But young Yoonwoo, in his childish naivety, had believed he deserved his parents’ affection, just as other children seemed to enjoy theirs. He thought that if he cried, threw a tantrum, and ran away, something would change.

It was a White Christmas. Snowflakes fell thickly from the sky, and children happily chatted with their parents or friends as they headed off to festive destinations. Yoonwoo stood alone in the corner of the playground, watching enviously as other families passed by.

He remembered scenes from TV shows where parents desperately searched for runaway children, eventually reuniting with them in tears. Clinging to this hope, he waited eagerly, imagining his mom or dad finding him, apologizing, and spending a joyful Christmas together.

As time passed, his legs ached, his stomach growled, and the cold seeped through his clothes. He longed for anyone to notice him, even a kidnapper. But in his poor neighborhood, no one spared a glance at a child lurking in a playground corner.

After all, why would a child with a home be loitering in a playground on Christmas? Even a kidnapper didn’t need him. As he sat there, the snow pelting down, Yoonwoo felt he was worth less than the crumbling snowman beside him.

As the sun set, he eventually gave up and went home, only to be greeted not by angry or apologetic parents, but by silence.

On the dining table, there was a note that read:

If you throw a tantrum, you get nothing. Go outside and play a little. Here’s some money to buy yourself a hamburger.

A 10,000-won note lay next to the message.

At that moment, Yoonwoo understood that the happiness allowed in his life would be just like that 10,000-won note on the table.

Wandering outside in the cold, longing for a distant happiness that would never come, was worse than eating a hamburger alone in a dark but comfortable silence.

From that day on, he knew the best method was to not look at others’ happiness.

***

It was too early for dinner, so they ended up at a café.

“So, Yoonwoo, what did you think of the movie?” Hyerim asked.

Yoonwoo wasn’t sure how to answer. He mostly felt embarrassed as it had taken him longer than Jieun to stop crying.

“See, Hyerim? That’s how you should react,” Jieun said. “Right, Yoonwoo?”

Yoonwoo shook his head awkwardly. “Well, isn’t it different for everyone?”

“Ah, I don’t get it,” Hyerim sighed. “Which part makes you cry? It’s moving, but I don’t feel a thing.”

“Alright, Hyerim, you’re out. Yoonwoo and I will talk, just the two of us.”

“Unni!”

“You know, I start bawling every time that pink elephant guy disappears. What about you, Yoonwoo?”

“Um… I just…”

Yoonwoo’s mind drifted to his second-grade self, wandering snowy streets on Christmas. Through windows, he glimpsed other families’ joy—rich food, new toys. But those scenes weren’t for him. Even on his birthday, he only got extra pocket money.

The movie screen felt like a large window to him. Inside that window were scenes of happy families and even a boy who had a crush on Riley at the end. Yoonwoo couldn’t help but wonder what the meaning of the movie was.

Was it to show me all the things I never had and probably never will?

By Yoonwoo’s standards, the movie could only be a masterpiece if it ended with a murderer or a demon showing up.

“Just? What?”

“I envied Riley,” Yoonwoo admitted.

“Really? Why?”

He envied everything about her. That snowy day, had his parents hoped he’d never return? Why was the house empty that evening? Were they enjoying their freedom from him at a restaurant? He only sought happiness from them, but he knew that to his parents, he was an obstacle to their happiness.

“I mean, having parents who look for you all day… What am I saying?” He gave a short, embarrassed laugh before quickly changing the subject. “What should we do for dinner?”

He sensed that he might have dampened the mood, but Hyerim and Jieun understood the meaning of his words. Yoonwoo’s envy of Riley having parents searching all day for their lost child meant he probably grew up with parents who wouldn’t look for him.

“I thought it was strange that a person like Riley would wander around looking so lonely.”

Jieun, who had seen the same movie ten times, immediately understood Yoonwoo more from his reaction to the film. The emotional impact of the movie was typically formed through a connection with the character of Riley.

Viewers typically empathized with her, seeing themselves in her struggle to adapt to change. By evaluating their own memories, the audience could appreciate the mix of joy and sorrow, and the people around them.

But what about Yoonwoo? He hadn’t felt empathy for the main character as he watched the movie. But maybe envy wasn’t the whole story either. Yoonwoo couldn’t find even a sliver of his own experiences on screen. So, from the beginning to the end of the movie, he felt disconnected from Riley’s struggles and could only look on in envy as her family welcomed her back.

Yoonwoo wasn’t usually moved to tears by emotion. His tears when the credits rolled had been out of sadness from his exclusion from such experiences.

Unbeknownst to him, Jieun had a rocky relationship with her father since childhood, so she understood Yoonwoo’s reaction. Glancing at him, she said, “Man, this calls for a drink, doesn’t it?”

“Unni, no more drinking! Please!” Hyerim protested.

“Noona, we have class tomorrow morning,” Yonwoo added.

“I have a class first period, too.”

Hyerim shook her head. “Wow.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“What do you mean? Unni, I think you have a drinking problem.”

“I didn’t drink during the day, so shouldn’t I partake at night? Isn’t that okay?”

“Unni, how are your grades? How often have you attended your first-period classes since the semester started?”

“Ugh, trust you to use that against me.”

“So, what should we eat?” Hyerim said. She looked at Yoonwoo. “Is there something you’re craving?”

“I’m not sure.”

Yoonwoo wanted to go home. He felt embarrassed about crying in front of Hyerim and Jieun, and despite Rabbit giving him money, he had no intention of spending it and wanted to minimize his expenses.

“Do you guys want to come to my place?” Jieun suggested.

“Huh? Isn’t your place a mess? I thought you said you had laundry all over the place?”

“I cleaned up before I left. I still have rice left from this morning in the rice cooker. I’ll make us curry.”

“You can cook?” Hyerim asked with a shocked expression.

“Hyerim.”

“Yeah?”

“People who drink alone at home have to be good at cooking. Do you know why?”

“Because they need side dishes?”

“You got it!” Jieun exclaimed. After Hyerim shrugged, Jieun continued, “I’ve watched tons of Jong-won Park’s cooking shows. Have you heard of milk curry?”

“How about you, Yoonwoo? Wanna join?” Hyerim asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to intrude, especially since… you know… you’re a woman living alone. Maybe I should just…”

“Yoonwoo,” Jieun cut in firmly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to all the trouble of cooking for you, and you’re trying to run off home? What’s with that? A woman, huh? Do you see me as a woman? Is that how you’ve been looking at me?”

“Right. Sorry. What should I bring?”

“What? You don’t see me as a woman? Yoonwoo, are you treating me like a kid because I’m short?” Jieun asked in a sulky tone.

Yoonwoo was at a loss.

“Unni, stop teasing him and let’s go. Do we need to get anything?”

“I have lots of leftovers. I keep getting delivery food, so they’re about to go bad. Especially the onions. Anyway, let’s finish it off today.”

“Were you planning to bring us to your place for dinner from the start? You never tidy up.”

“No, I thought we’d go out for drinks and head home. But I figured you’d stop me from drinking, so this is my backup plan.”

“You know I won’t let you drink at home either, right?” Hyerim said, raising an eyebrow.

“What? It’s my house, Hyerim. I’ll share some vodka with you. Let’s have a few drinks. Okay? Or maybe tequila? Or would you prefer Chinese liquor?”

“How many types of alcohol do you have? I’m worried about your health. You need to have more sober days.”

“Hmph. But as soon as you leave…”

“Exactly. I should keep your alcohol at my house. I’ll give you one bottle a month.”

“As soon as you leave, I’m going to wash up and go to bed early. I was…” Jieun trailed off as they arrived at her apartment building.

After entering Jieun’s unit, Yoonwoo was surprised by three things. First, by the fact that Jieun lived alone in quite a spacious apartment. Second, by the mountain of empty liquor bottles tucked away in a corner, and third, by the various types of alcohol in the fridge and cabinets.

“Noona, your place is nice, but why are you collecting these empty bottles?” Yoonwoo asked, eyeing the trash.

“I just haven’t thrown them out.”

“Unni, what’s all this? There wasn’t even half of this last time I was here. Is it all hard liquor?”

“Yeah. That low percentage stuff just doesn’t do it for me lately. But it’s not all hard liquor. There’s Chinese liquor, too. That one there is famous, it’s called Moutai.”

“Where did you get the money for all this?”

“I hit the jackpot with some stocks I was playing with using my allowance, but since the initial capital was small, it only amounted to enough for buying liquor.”

“So you spent it all on alcohol?” Hyerim asked with a shocked expression.

“No, I still have some left.”

“Wow. What do we do with you?”

“What do you mean? The only way to reduce drinking is to drink! So, shall we?”

Instead of responding to Jieun, Hyerim quietly took out her smartphone and started taking photos of the apartment.

“Hyerim, why the hell are you taking photos?”

“I’m going to send them to your parents.”

“Ha, as if. You don’t even have their number,” Jieun replied smugly.

When Hyerim said nothing, Jieun continued, “You don’t, right? Hyerim?”

“Isn’t your dad’s name Taejoon Yoo?”

“What? How do you know that? Hyerim! You wouldn’t, right? Hyerim?”

But Hyerim didn’t respond.