Fugly Casanova

Noeul had a tendency to read too much into people’s words and actions. Aware of this flaw, he made a conscious effort to reserve judgment until someone’s intentions were crystal clear. You’d never catch him blurting out accusations like, “You hate me because I’m ugly, don’t you?”

Take his high school days, for instance. Once, a girl he was paired with suddenly burst into tears during class and ignored his greeting. Instead of jumping to conclusions or confronting her, Noeul simply let it be. He didn’t assume she was upset about being paired with him. In fact, he never learned the real reason behind her tears, as she never explained.

Noeul had come to realize that knowing the hidden truth or someone’s true intentions wasn’t always beneficial. Sometimes, it was best to take things at face value. Constantly second-guessing—wondering if there was more to a simple statement, if it was his fault, or if there were ulterior motives—could be mentally draining.

Even if he did manage to uncover some hidden meaning, it rarely changed anything. If he were to confront someone about his suspicions, they’d likely deny it, leaving him at a loss for words. So, regardless of his personal theories, Noeul learned to accept what people presented at face value.

Now, he found himself applying this philosophy to his relationship with Jiwoo. Their last encounter had been pleasant enough, and try as he might, Noeul couldn’t pinpoint anything he’d done wrong. Jiwoo wasn’t outright ignoring him or showing any anger. To the casual observer, everything seemed normal between them.

But Noeul’s heightened perception was both a blessing and a curse. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Jiwoo was subtly avoiding him. It was in the little things—the way her smile would fade when she spotted him, how she’d fidget uncomfortably before making an excuse to leave.

Noeul tried to rationalize it away. Maybe she had something urgent come up. Perhaps she wasn’t feeling well. He even considered that he might be overthinking things again. But deep down, he knew better.

With each perceived slight, Noeul felt a piece of himself crumble away. It was a slow erosion of his confidence, as steady and unstoppable as a landslide.

His mind began to spiral, his thoughts racing beyond his control. Why was Jiwoo suddenly avoiding him? It wasn’t unusual for girls to dislike him, but Jiwoo had always been different. What had changed?

The only recent development was Jiwoo’s budding relationship with Joonki. Had Noeul pushed too hard to set them up? But they seemed to be getting along well. A nagging voice in his head wondered if Joonki had said something to turn Jiwoo against him.

Or perhaps spending time with Joonki had shifted Jiwoo’s perspective. Maybe she’d realized how much more enjoyable it was to hang out with someone attractive. Worse still, had she been using Noeul all along to get close to Joonki? The thought made his stomach churn.

Noeul found himself reexamining every interaction he’d had with Jiwoo. Had it all been an act? Was there always some hidden agenda he’d been too naive to see? He’d thought he understood her, but now he wasn’t so sure. People could hide so much beneath the surface.

If Jiwoo had been playing him, how easy must she have found it? Did she see his insecurity about his looks as a weakness to exploit? Even if she hadn’t started with ulterior motives, it was becoming clear that she’d treated him as disposable. The possibility that Jiwoo might view people as mere playthings, to be discarded when she grew bored, left a bitter taste in Noeul’s mouth.

For once, Noeul’s usual defense mechanisms failed him. There was no sarcastic quip about the nature of attractive people, no attempt to rationalize the situation. The realization hit him hard: he had trusted Jiwoo more than he’d ever admitted to himself.

He felt blindsided by her.

His thoughts drifted to Hansol. Surely she was different, more genuine in her friendship. But a seed of doubt had been planted. What if someone else came along? Someone who connected with Hansol just as well but didn’t come with the baggage of Noeul’s insecurities? Someone she wouldn’t feel awkward being seen with?

The thought of Hansol choosing such a person sent a pang through Noeul’s chest. Not because Hansol would be wrong to do so, but because it seemed so inevitable. He couldn’t think of a single compelling reason for her to stick by his side.

Noeul felt raw, exposed. Could he learn to be like those bustling train stations, watching people come and go without attachment? Could he pretend it didn’t cut him to the core each time?

In that moment, Noeul felt utterly drained. He needed time to recover, to recalibrate his senses and judgment. He didn’t have the energy to put up any kind of front.

He just needed time.

***

Hansol: [Where are you?]

Noeul: [I’m at home.]

Hansol: [?? When are you planning to head here?]

Noeul: [I’m not coming today. Just feeling a bit tired…]

Hansol: [Are you sick? Or just not feeling up to it?]

Noeul: [The latter.]

Hansol: [Hmm… I see…]

Noeul: [Sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I just woke up.]

Hansol: [It’s okay. Do you think you’ll feel better after resting?]

Noeul: [Yeah, it’s not too bad.]

Hansol: [Alright, get some rest.]

Noeul: [Yeah… have fun.]

Hansol placed her phone on the table.

She looked around. The snacks had just arrived, and her friends were eagerly passing drinks back and forth. Suddenly, she felt disconnected from the cheerful atmosphere.

“Should’ve just stayed home too,” she muttered under her breath.

Making up her mind, Hansol decided she’d leave after the first round. Maybe she’d give Noeul a call on her way home, just to check in.

It wasn’t like Noeul to miss out on their gatherings, especially not without much explanation. His absence nagged at her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was connected to his recent mood.

Hansol’s concern had been brewing ever since Noeul had pushed Jiwoo toward Joonki. It had been painfully clear that Noeul was forcing it, probably convincing himself it was the right thing to do.

She wondered if there really was a right or wrong when it came to matters of the heart. Still, she could empathize with Noeul. In his shoes, she might have done the same—or worse.

At the time, Hansol had believed Noeul could weather the storm. She’d thought the pain would fade with time, trusting in his resilience.

But then, Jiwoo had started avoiding both Noeul and Hansol.

Hansol recalled a moment in the hallway when Jiwoo had practically fled at the sight of them. She’d been about to comment on it, but one look at Noeul’s dark expression had stopped her cold.

Later, she’d reached out to Jiwoo with a casual message: “Busy these days? Haven’t seen you around much.” Jiwoo’s reply had been frustratingly vague: “Yeah :( Let’s grab some ice cream soon.”

With each of Jiwoo’s evasions, Hansol watched Noeul’s face harden, followed by stretches of heavy silence. He was trying so hard not to let his feelings show, but this time, the cracks in his composure were impossible to miss. It was clear that he was barely holding it together.

Whenever Hansol probed, Noeul would brush her off with excuses about lack of sleep or piling assignments, never revealing the true cause of his mood. This evasiveness stung Hansol. Wasn’t Noeul supposed to let his guard down around her? Why maintain the facade even with her? Did he really have something to hide from her too?

Each deflection felt like another brick in a wall between them. While part of Hansol reasoned that everyone was entitled to their privacy, she couldn’t shake her disappointment. She’d thought she was inside Noeul’s inner circle, but now she wondered if she was just like everyone else, kept at arm’s length.

Sometimes, her frustration would get the better of her. She’d imagine Noeul thinking, Of course pretty girls don’t understand, or How could I ever truly be friends with someone attractive? It made her want to shout, “Is being unattractive some kind of privilege? If you were born handsome, you’d act the same way. You’re no different!” These imagined scenarios often left Hansol angry at Noeul for things he hadn’t even done.

Hansol sighed softly and poured herself a shot of soju.

Across the room, she spotted Jiwoo at a distant table, sitting opposite Joonki. Jiwoo’s face was flushed from drinking, her laughter bubbling up frequently. After a while, she excused herself, saying she’d be right back.

Hansol watched as Jiwoo headed outside. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to follow.

She found Jiwoo on a bench, lost in thought. The cheerful demeanor from earlier had faded, replaced by a somber expression.

Hansol sat down beside her. Jiwoo turned, her face brightening when she saw who it was.

“Hansol! Having fun?” Jiwoo asked, her words slightly slurred.

“It’s alright. You?”

“Same, just okay. How much have you had?”

“About a bottle.”

“As expected. You can hold your liquor.”

Hansol smiled. “We should get a drink sometime.”

Jiwoo giggled, then asked, “Did Noeul show up?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Why not? He said he would.”

“He wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh no, is he very sick?”

“No, just… not up for drinking and socializing.”

“I see…” Jiwoo nodded, concern etching her features.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious,” Hansol reassured her, though she wasn’t entirely convinced herself.

“That’s good… Don’t you think he’d like it if you sent him some porridge or something?”

Hansol found that odd. Why not say, “I should send him some porridge”?

“You should send it,” Hansol suggested.

“Well… I could, but wouldn’t it be better if you did?”

“Why?”

“No reason, really…” Jiwoo mumbled, trailing off.

Was there really something going on between them?

Hansol hesitated, torn between respecting their privacy and her mounting curiosity. Finally, she asked, “Did something… happen between you two?”

“Between me and Noeul?” Jiwoo’s eyes widened. “No, nothing at all. Why?”

Her expression seemed genuine, which only confused Hansol more. If nothing had happened, why the strange behavior?

“I might be imagining things, but lately it feels like you’ve been avoiding us,” Hansol ventured. “And since nothing’s happened between you and me, I wondered if maybe you and Noeul had a fight.”

Jiwoo giggled unexpectedly. “Oh, no. Really… Hey, Hansol.” Her tone suddenly shifted, as if she were about to impart some great wisdom. “Why are you so clueless?”

Hansol blinked, taken aback. “What…?”

Jiwoo looked at her with a mix of amusement and frustration. “How can you be so… never mind. This isn’t something I should point out.”

Hansol felt lost. Was there something obvious she was missing?

Jiwoo sighed. “Haven’t you realized after all that hinting?”

“Hinting?”

“You know, like Noeul wanting to drink with just you. And that time at Dead Man, he originally wanted it to be just the two of you.”

Hansol’s mind raced. What was Jiwoo getting at?

“Even I can tell from watching you guys. How can you not know?”

“Jiwoo, I think you might be mis—”

“Yeah, it’s true that the person involved usually doesn’t realize it. Some things are only visible to a third party.”

Hansol stared, speechless, as Jiwoo placed her hands on her shoulders.

“Exactly. You’re starting to see it too, right?”

“Jiwoo, it’s not that—”

“I’ve been so clueless, getting in the way all this time. I’m sorry.” Jiwoo winked. “You know, you have to tell me first.”

With that, she stood and headed back into the restaurant, leaving Hansol watching her retreating figure, utterly bewildered.