Fugly Casanova

Joonki sighed. “Why does she not like me?”

“It might not be that she doesn’t like you…”

“I don’t know, man. You should’ve seen the look in her eye. She nods when I talk, but it’s just… polite, you know? And when I try to join the group, it’s like I’m not even there.”

Noeul silently poured soju into Joonki’s empty glass. He suspected that Joonki might not even be aware of it. After all, his friend wasn’t exactly the most perceptive, often catching flak from their social circle for his obliviousness.

But when it came to Jiwoo, Joonki was hyper-aware of every little detail. He’d been watching her closely, parsing her every reaction while pretending not to care.

It wasn’t that Joonki didn’t notice the awkwardness; he chose to ignore it. All to keep stealing glances at Jiwoo, to maintain some semblance of normalcy between them. Noeul could only imagine the internal struggle each time Joonki mustered up the courage to ask, “Can I come too?”

A pang of guilt hit Noeul. He could have easily said something to Jiwoo and Hansol, smoothed things over for Joonki. But he hadn’t. He’d hidden behind flimsy excuses: If he wants to come, he’ll speak up. He’s a grown man; he can handle it. I’m not his keeper. Jiwoo and Hansol seem uncomfortable; I shouldn’t push it.

Noeul felt childish looking back on it all. Was it jealousy? Some petty “if I can’t have her, no one can” mentality? It wasn’t like keeping Joonki at arm’s length would suddenly make Jiwoo interested in him. He could have introduced them properly, encouraged her to give Joonki a chance. After all, his friend was a good guy.

But Noeul hadn’t wanted to face that reality. He’d clung to his fragile pride, telling himself it didn’t matter whether he was attractive or not—he and Jiwoo were never going to happen anyway.

Now, he felt like he’d missed his chance to be a true friend, to be the better man. Yet even as guilt gnawed at him, Noeul bristled at the feeling. Supporting Joonki would have been a kindness, sure, but not an obligation. He shouldn’t have to feel bad for not going above and beyond, right?

It wasn’t like Joonki was dealing with some earth-shattering tragedy. The girl he’d crushed on didn’t like him back—big deal. Noeul had been there more times than he could count.

But there was a difference, wasn’t there? Noeul always assumed rejection was inevitable. Joonki, on the other hand, seemed to expect everyone to fall for him. Maybe that’s what irked Noeul so much.

He caught himself mid-thought. Was he really obligated to play therapist here? Jiwoo wasn’t some heartless monster for not reciprocating. Joonki was young, good-looking—he’d bounce back in no time. Probably find someone who’d actually be into him, unlike Jiwoo.

Maybe Joonki didn’t even like her that much. Maybe it was just his bruised ego, unable to accept that, for once, a girl wasn’t fawning over him. Hell, maybe he even enjoyed the rejection on some level—gave him that whole tortured heartthrob vibe.

Noeul’s eyes widened as realization hit him. These mental gymnastics, the increasingly convoluted excuses… No one had called him out, so why was he working so hard to justify himself?

Guilt. That’s what it was.

The truth was, he secretly enjoyed it when Jiwoo and Hansol avoided Joonki. He could have vouched for his friend wholeheartedly, erased all doubt. Instead, he’d given just enough support to maintain his image as the loyal buddy, while leaving room for interpretation. He’d counted on Jiwoo and Hansol’s trust in him, manipulating the situation to his advantage.

That realization left a bitter taste in Noeul’s mouth. It was this hidden, selfish part of himself that truly made him feel guilty.

He wasn’t really sorry for Joonki; he was sorry for himself. He’d thought that even though he wasn’t good-looking, at least he was a decent person.

Turns out that was a lie too. Another illusion shattered.

Noeul felt miserable. He filled his own glass and downed it in one go.

“Whoa, easy there,” Joonki slurred, eyeing Noeul’s empty glass. “You’re not the one who’s supposed to be drowning his sorrows.”

“Just felt like drinking.”

“Always gotta act so tough,” Joonki said, shaking his head. “No wonder people don’t see how nice you really are.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the department sweetheart.”

Joonki snickered. “If I was as funny as you, maybe Jiwoo would like me more.”

“Oh, so now you wanna be the funny guy too? If your looks aren’t cutting it, maybe it’s time for some self-reflection. Man, if I had your face…” Noeul trailed off.

“What?” Joonki challenged. “What would you do with my face? Finish that thought.”

“I’d be happy, you idiot. Wish I looked like you.”

“Bull,” Jiwoo scoffed. “You were gonna say you’d have all the girls falling at your feet.”

Was that true? Noeul wasn’t sure. He had a feeling that even if he had Joonki’s looks, he still wouldn’t date anyone. He’d flirt, sure, but never commit. Like he was proving some twisted point to the world—look how desirable I am, and still, I choose no one. Petty revenge against a universe that had dealt him a bad hand.

The realization made Noeul’s stomach churn. The more he examined himself, the more flaws he uncovered. It was exhausting.

“Hey,” Joonki called out, swaying dangerously in his seat. Noeul looked up, waiting.

“Should I… should I give it one last shot?” Joonki slurred. “I’ve never really asked her out properly, you know? One-on-one. I’ll do it, and if she says no… that’s it. I’m done.”

Noeul hesitated, his mouth half-open. His first instinct was to hope Joonki would let it go. If he tried again, Jiwoo might actually give in. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

Before he could respond, Joonki shook his head vigorously. “Nah, forget it. What’s the point? Better to leave it alone. One more push and it gets messy, right? I’ll just… I’ll just drop it.”

Noeul could hear the uncertainty in Joonki’s voice. His friend was teetering on the edge, looking for any excuse to back down. A single word from Noeul, suggesting it might be best to stop, and Joonki would probably never approach Jiwoo again.

Hell, even if Noeul said nothing, Joonki might interpret the silence as discouragement. No one would blame Noeul for staying quiet. It would be so easy to let the moment pass.

But was that what he really wanted?

Could he live with himself if he didn’t take this chance to do the right thing?

Noeul took a deep breath, steeling himself. This was his shot at redemption, at being the decent person he’d always claimed to be.

“Just give it one last go.”

***

Jiwoo’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her expression tightening almost imperceptibly before she flipped it face-down.

“What’s up?” Noeul asked.

“Oh, it’s Joonki,” Jiwoo said, hesitating. “He wants to meet this weekend.”

Hansol raised an eyebrow. “You going?”

“No,” Jiwoo replied flatly.

Hansol nodded, unsurprised.

Noeul’s stomach churned. He’d set this in motion, telling Joonki to reach out. He’d promised to help, to persuade Jiwoo. Now came the hard part. He had to choose his words carefully, wary of his own conflicted feelings bubbling to the surface.

This wasn’t about Joonki. It was about proving something to himself. If he could genuinely try to bring them together, without any ulterior motives or sabotage, maybe he could look at himself differently. Not as someone driven by petty jealousy, but as someone who does the right thing. That was the real prize here.

Plus, he’d come out looking like the good guy to everyone involved. If Jiwoo and Joonki actually hit it off, he’d be the one who made it happen. Hansol might see him in a new light too. Maybe someday they’d all laugh about this, closer than ever.

Noeul took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Hey, we’re close, right?” he asked, looking between Jiwoo and Hansol.

They exchanged a puzzled glance before Jiwoo answered, “Of course. Why?”

Noeul took a deep breath, steeling himself. “You guys… you’ll still hang out with me even if you get a boyfriend, right?”

“Of course!” Jiwoo replied, her voice rising slightly.

Hansol remained quiet, watching Noeul intently.

“I like this,” Noeul continued, gesturing between them. “Just the three of us. But I worried that if you and Joonki got together, we might not have moments like this anymore.”

Jiwoo blinked, surprised.

“So, if I’m being honest, I didn’t really want you two to get together,” Noeul admitted. “I never said anything bad about Joonki, but I didn’t exactly go out of my way to show you his good side either.”

Hansol cut in, “Come on, why so serious? That’s for them to figure out. You don’t need to play matchmaker.”

Noeul felt a surge of relief at Hansol’s words. It would be easy to let the conversation drift that way, to let himself off the hook. But that wasn’t why he’d brought this up. He’d promised himself honesty.

“I know I didn’t have to say anything,” Noeul pressed on. “But when you guys misunderstood Joonki, I just… let it happen. My silence probably made you think I agreed. By doing nothing, I let the misunderstanding grow. That’s on me.”

“Maybe,” Hansol conceded, “but how can anyone ever really know someone else completely? We all make judgments based on what we see. Some right, some wrong. It’s not like everything got messed up just because you didn’t speak up.”

Noeul could hear the protectiveness in Hansol’s voice. She thought he was a good person, and she was trying to shield him from his own guilt. He appreciated it, but he couldn’t let it go.

“I should have said something,” Noeul insisted. “I should have told you that you were misunderstanding Joonki. But I didn’t. And honestly? It’s not even about feeling bad for him. It’s about being able to live with myself.”

“If you really thought highly of Joonki,” Hansol pressed, “you would’ve spoken up like I did. Your silence became part of Jiwoo’s information. We trust your judgment, so if you don’t defend someone, we assume there’s a reason.”

Noeul’s face flushed. “You’re right. But like I said, my selfishness got involved. I wanted to keep you guys… to myself.”

It was the most honest thing he had said so far.

Hansol wasn’t letting up. “If you thought Joonki was a good person, you’d want all four of us to hang out together.”

“No, it’s… it’s different,” Noeul fumbled, feeling cornered. “You’re not seeing it the same way I am.”

“How is it different? It’s the same thing.”

Noeul hesitated. He’d wanted to be honest, but only to a point. Only enough to still look good in their eyes. He didn’t want to reveal the truly unflattering parts of himself.

But how far could he push this half-truth?

“Look,” he said finally, his voice low. “You guys… you’re pretty. It’s different when one guy hangs out with pretty girls versus when it’s two guys. Especially someone like Joonki. The way people look at you changes completely. I don’t know if I can explain it properly, but… you get what I mean, right?”

Noeul felt a wave of unease wash over him. He’d said more than he’d intended, teetering dangerously close to revealing too much. His instincts screamed at him to pull back.

“Look,” he continued, trying to regain his footing, “what I’m trying to say is that Joonki’s actually a decent guy when you get to know him. Sure, he can be a bit clueless sometimes, I’ll give you that. But in the grand scheme of things, that’s not the worst quality to have. He’s not manipulative or always calculating his next move. He genuinely cares about people. I don’t have many close friends, but Joonki’s one of the good ones. That’s why I hang out with him. If you trust my judgment at all, give him a chance. I think it’d be worth it.”

Hansol’s expression darkened, clearly not buying it. Jiwoo, on the other hand, seemed lost in thought.

A heavy silence settled over the table.

Noeul felt a mix of relief and exhaustion. He’d done it. He’d said enough. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. Maybe now he could finally quiet the nagging voice in his head.

Yet, a part of him wondered why he always had to take the harder path. Why couldn’t he just act on his feelings like some people did? Why did maintaining his self-respect always mean going against his instincts?

Why did following his heart only lead to shame and self-loathing?

“I’ll meet him.”

Noeul’s head snapped up.

Jiwoo looked back at Noeul and repeated, “I’ll meet him.”