Fugly Casanova

Jiwoo spotted her bus approaching and called out, “There’s my ride! See you guys!” She dashed toward the stop.

“Text when you’re home!” Joonki shouted after her, but Jiwoo was already hopping onto the bus and didn’t seem to hear.

Noeul turned to the others. “Take care, everyone.”

“You too,” Joonki replied, then glanced at Hansol. “How are you getting home?”

“I think Noeul and I are heading the same way,” Hansol said.

Noeul nodded. “Let’s walk together, then.”

They waved goodbye to Joonki and set off. The silence between them felt heavier than usual. Normally, Noeul would have been at ease walking with Hansol, but tonight was different. He’d hoped that once they left the others, he could finally relax. Instead, with Hansol beside him, he felt compelled to keep up the facade of being okay for just a bit longer.

Any other day, he might have cracked jokes about being tired, how draining socializing was, or even quipped that hanging out with attractive people should come with hazard pay. But tonight, the words wouldn’t come. Hansol had seemed to genuinely enjoy the outing, making it even harder for Noeul to voice his discomfort.

He’d always assumed Hansol was like him—someone who disliked crowds, found extended socializing exhausting, and only felt truly comfortable around one person. He’d imagined she preferred quieter, more intimate interactions, away from the spotlight.

But it wasn’t true. Hansol fit in just fine with people like Joonki and Jiwoo. She had blended into the group effortlessly, chatting as if she’d known them for years. It was Noeul who felt out of place, not Hansol.

Deep down, he’d hoped she would struggle to fit in, that she’d shy away and rely on him instead. He’d wanted her to say something like, “I just can’t get along with the popular crowd. You’re the only one I can really talk to.” But that had been wishful thinking. In reality, there was no reason someone as beautiful and kind as Hansol wouldn’t socialize easily with others. She simply hadn’t chosen to, until now.

Noeul didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t fit in.

He broke the silence. “Today was more fun than I expected.”

“Was it?” Hansol’s tone carried a hint of indifference.

“Yeah. Didn’t you enjoy it too?”

“Maybe.”

Hansol’s nonchalant reply gave Noeul a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she was only pretending to fit in, just like him. Perhaps, deep down, she was just as eager to leave and was as uncomfortable in the group setting as he had been.

Noeul decided to test the waters. “You and Joonki seemed like buddies today.”

“Well…” Hansol trailed off, neither confirming nor denying it.

Noeul felt a bit better. Perhaps she hadn’t fully enjoyed herself after all.

But then Hansol said, “You, on the other hand, kept looking at Jiwoo.”

“Me?” Noeul blinked.

“Yeah.”

“Did I?”

Noeul had never explicitly told Hansol about his interest in Jiwoo. But he realized now that if Hansol asked directly, he might not deny it as strongly as he once would have. He sensed that she had already figured it out, and he trusted she wouldn’t mock him or spread it around.

Even so, Noeul didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Jiwoo. They weren’t something to nurture or develop. They were the kind of feelings that should wither away, dry up, and eventually turn to dust like a flower deprived of water.

That’s why Noeul avoided the topic. He’d always believed that Hansol understood his situation and that’s why she never brought Jiwoo up. Noeul had been grateful, thinking Hansol knew how hollow and deceptive words like “You’d be great together!” or “You and Jiwoo would make a cute couple” could be.

But today, Hansol had broached the subject. Noeul figured it was just to tease him a little.

Hansol continued, “Didn’t you want to keep it under wraps?”

“Of course.”

“Then you didn’t do a great job. It was pretty obvious.”

“Really?”

Noeul didn’t ask for details. He didn’t want to delve deeper into a discussion about Jiwoo.

Hansol added, “Even at dinner, you kept looking at her.”

“That’s just because she was sitting right across from me. And I’m a guy—wouldn’t it be weirder if I just stared at Joonki the whole time?”

“That’s true,” Hansol conceded.

They continued walking in silence.

Noeul desperately wanted reassurance that Hansol hadn’t enjoyed the gathering either, that she shared his discomfort.

He finally said, “You seemed to click with everyone today. Maybe you should hang out with them more instead of always saying you don’t have friends.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re always saying you have no one to drink with, and that’s why you ask me.”

“Yeah, I do ask you. Are you saying you don’t want to hang out anymore?”

“What? No, I do. I just thought you were getting bored with me.”

Hansol paused, then asked, “You’re not suddenly sick of me, are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Noeul let out a small laugh. For the first time that evening, it felt genuine.

He felt as if he had heard what he needed. Maybe Hansol, like him, just acted like she was fitting in but actually preferred spending time with Noeul.

Hansol’s next words caught him off guard. “Jiwoo is really pretty, though. She has that bright, natural kind of beauty.”

“Yeah,” Noeul mumbled.

“Before we went into the movie, you were practically mesmerized.”

A wave of discomfort washed over Noeul. The fact that Hansol had noticed him staring at Jiwoo was embarrassing.

Did only Hansol notice, or was it obvious to everyone?

Noeul tried to downplay it. “Me? I don’t remember. Maybe I was just spacing out. I don’t usually stare at people like that.”

“What are you talking about? You probably didn’t even realize it. You were literally out of it.”

“Maybe.”

“And when you offered to switch seats with Jiwoo and she refused, clinging to her seat, your face was priceless. I’m pretty sure Jiwoo noticed too.”

“Oh, really? I’ll have to be more careful.”

Noeul didn’t want to have this conversation with Hansol. It felt like he was talking to someone else, not her. The usual comments about how Jiwoo was pretty, how she was probably popular, and how she would end up dating someone really handsome…

He was pretending to be unaffected, as if none of this was getting to him, as if he had no real feelings about it.

People often compare putting on a front to wearing a mask, but Noeul felt it was more like shaving away at his true self. A mask covers the surface without causing harm, but pretending, in Noeul’s view, was more damaging—it scraped away at his real self, layer by layer.

Hansol probably knew this, that every time Noeul said, “I don’t know,” “Maybe,” or “Oh, really?” he was being worn down. So why did she keep bringing it up? Had she forgotten their past conversations? Or maybe Noeul had misunderstood all along, taking her silence for understanding and compassion, when in reality, it was just indifference.

“Noeul,” Hansol called out.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Jiwoo that much?”

Noeul didn’t respond.

Hansol glanced at him a few times before asking, “Why aren’t you answering?”

She stopped walking.

Noeul kept going, but after a few steps, he realized Hansol wasn’t following.

Then, he heard her voice from behind. “What’s going on?”

When Noeul still didn’t reply, Hansol hurried after him, asking, “What’s wrong with you?”

“…”

“Are you mad?”

Noeul felt Hansol’s hand lightly touch his wrist.

Without thinking, Noeul yanked his hand away and turned to face her.

Hansol looked startled.

Noeul spoke, his voice tight with emotion, “Haven’t you been listening?”

“…What?”

“You know I like Jiwoo,” Noeul said, his eyes narrowing as he continued.

Hansol’s gaze flickered over his face, her mouth slightly open in surprise as she listened.

Noeul pressed on, his tone sharp, “And you know I’m supposed to just shut up and deal with it, right?”

“Noeul…”

Hansol took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm.

But Noeul pulled away, stepping back as he continued, “So why do you keep picking at it? If it were anyone else, fine. They wouldn’t know. No one knows what I’m thinking, and it’s better that way. I could just laugh it off and play along. But you? You know everything. So why are you doing this? Did you realize how much it was pissing me off when you were talking earlier? I mean, you’re usually so perceptive—don’t tell me you didn’t notice. If you didn’t, you’re an idiot, and if you did, then you’re being incredibly cruel.”

Noeul glared at Hansol.

Hansol stumbled over her words, “Noeul, I… honestly, I wasn’t paying attention to how you felt just now… I was too distracted by something else… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Noeul didn’t respond. He turned around and started walking away, his steps brisk and determined.

From behind, Hansol called out his name several times, but she didn’t follow him.

Noeul kept walking without looking back.

***

Noeul regretted his actions before he even made it home.

What exactly did Hansol do wrong? Was it her fault for not reading his mind? Was it wrong that she didn’t comfort him when he was in a bad mood? The truth was, she was innocent.

All the problems were with Noeul. Liking Jiwoo but having to suppress those feelings? That was Noeul’s problem. Being sensitive about anything related to Jiwoo? Also Noeul’s problem. Expecting Hansol to understand his feelings? Noeul’s problem. Pretending nothing was wrong in front of others while feeling hurt? Noeul’s problem. Noeul’s inferiority complex? Noeul’s problem. The fact that he was unattractive? Noeul’s problem.

Everything was his problem, yet he had the audacity to get angry at Hansol as if she were the one at fault.

Now, Hansol would probably feel uncomfortable around him. She would choose her words carefully to avoid hurting him again and eventually distance herself.

Noeul sighed and sat on his bed, clutching his head in frustration.

“Why did I do that? Why did I say those things…”

He remembered how he had snapped at her over the phone last time, too. Why did he always lose his temper with her? Why was it so hard to control his emotions when talking to Hansol, who was nothing but kind to him?

Even when others said far more hurtful things, Noeul never let it show. He handled those situations so well that people saw him as having a calm temperament. The more it hurt, the better he hid it. He took pride in never letting anyone see his pain. Did you want to see me upset? Too bad. I won’t give you that satisfaction. For Noeul, it was both a matter of pride and a form of defiance.

But with Hansol…

In truth, Noeul had always thought of Hansol as different. Other people might mock me for being ugly, but not Hansol. Other pretty girls might hate spending time with me, but not Hansol. Other people might not understand me, but not Hansol…

…But why? Why did I think she was different?

Noeul had clung to the sliver of understanding Hansol had shown him, desperately convincing himself that someone out there truly got him. But reality had shattered that illusion, leaving him raw with disappointment.

He’d been a fool. Hansol was no different from the rest. She couldn’t see into his soul any more than anyone else.

To shield himself from future letdowns, Noeul had long ago learned to squash his hopes. Who could ever like me? Just look in the mirror. This mantra, repeated since childhood, had become his armor.

So why did I let my guard down this time? How did these wishful thoughts sneak past my defenses? Was I that starved for connection that I willingly blinded myself?

A creeping dread took hold as Noeul sensed the first cracks in his protective shell—the very thing that had kept him safe all these years.

I can’t let this happen. No more expectations. No more disappointments. I have to stay composed, unaffected.

If I don’t, I’ll crumble. I’ll become that pathetic person, desperate for understanding, clinging to anyone who’ll listen. And then they’ll all leave—repulsed not just by my looks, but by the needy, insecure mess I’ve become. I’ll be worthless… completely worthless…

Noeul steeled himself. It wasn’t too late to patch up those cracks. He could return to his detached, expectation-free existence.

No more special treatment for Hansol or anyone else. They were all cut from the same cloth. And as for Jiwoo? Those feelings had to be erased, treated as if they’d never existed. If he denied them hard enough, maybe they’d actually disappear.

The more he convinced himself of this, the more he felt at peace.