Chapter 13.1

Chapter 13.1

The cicada cries that had been incessantly ringing throughout the summer had disappeared, signaling that autumn was not far away. André found himself quite taken with the autumn nights in Korea.

In the quiet alley illuminated by streetlights, the distant sound of a dog barking could be heard. The calls of autumn insects continued intermittently. The heavy sound of his footsteps and the light clicking of hers mixed with the clinking of the soju bottles in the plastic bag.

André took a deep breath. Even the air filling his lungs had a strangely sweet scent. At that moment, when he thought that he would sometimes think of Korean autumn nights when he returned to New York, Miran stopped at the back door of a small single-story house.

The iron door, painted with a crude texture of green paint, had the paint peeled off and rusted here and there, revealing dark red iron sticks. As Miran unlocked the door with a key, the worn hinges screeched. Opposite the back door was a narrow, steep cement staircase with no guardrail.

Miran turned to him, gesturing for him to come in, and went up the stairs first. André firmly closed the back door and stood at the bottom of the stairs. As he slowly climbed the steps, Miran’s short skirt fluttered in the early autumn breeze.

Her skirt was made of light fabric with small floral patterns. Beneath it, her legs, straight and pale as pearls, were revealed more with each step she took. As the skirt lifted slightly, it just barely brushed her thighs.

Realizing he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene, André frowned slightly in mild self-reproach.

‘I’m not a pervert.’

Suddenly feeling a tightness in his throat, André adjusted his shirt collar and undid a button. His Adam’s apple bobbed prominently. Clearing his mind, he bounded up the stairs, catching up with Miran in three steps.

“This is my house.”

At the rooftop, Miran turned to him and said. It was a small, unimpressive house that looked like a roof had been added to a cut-off container. André glanced around. The neighborhood, with its mix of old single-family homes and small multi-family dwellings, didn’t look like an upper-class area, but it wasn’t a slum either.

But caution was necessary. An accomplice of Miran’s could be waiting to carry out a perfect crime in the unlit house. Not lowering his guard, André scanned the surroundings once more and stood close behind Miran as she opened the door, ready to take her hostage if necessary.

Miran, pressing down her pounding heart, flung open the door of the seven-pyeong (about 23 square meters) rooftop room. She could feel the man’s breath near her head, standing close enough to sense his body heat. Seeing the dark shadow cast over her own shadow made her suddenly afraid.

‘He’s not a bad person, right? He wouldn’t hurt me…’

Her mind was a jumble. It had been almost four years since she moved here, and she had never brought a man home. Let alone a foreign man she had just met. It felt like a major event as if she were dreaming, if not for the huge presence behind her.

Miran bit her lip. It was too late to regret and send him back now. Taking a deep breath, she switched on the light attached to the wall. The long fluorescent light flickered before shining its overly bright light into every corner of the small room.

André, ducking to enter, carefully straightened up while scrutinizing her room with sharp eyes. There was barely enough space between his head and the ceiling for a couple of fingers.

Watching this, Miran let out a sigh of relief.

“I was worried you’d have to keep your head bent like a zombie, but thankfully, you fit.”

André nearly laughed but bit his lower lip to suppress it.

The room contained only a bed without a headboard, a dining table, a metal clothes rack, and a small chest of drawers. One wall was cramped with a makeshift kitchen and a refrigerator, and the side door seemed to lead to the bathroom. Unless someone was hiding in the bathroom, there was no place in this tiny room for anyone to conceal themselves.

As Miran anxiously watched the flickering fluorescent light, she turned on a table lamp on the dining table. The moment the filament popped, the fluorescent light went out.

“I knew it was acting up…”

The incandescent bulb cast a round pool of light, creating shadows around the table. With the room darkened, Miran felt somewhat relieved. It had been too bright before, making it impossible to hide any expression.