The Great Storyteller

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Seo Kwang looked up at Juho as though he didn’t feel any better. After playing along for some time, Juho greeted his friends, who started arriving one by one. Seeing them for the first time in a long time, Sun Hwa and Bom seemed much more mature to him.

“Long time, no see, buddy! I’m tellin’ ya, this is what happens when you have friends who are successful,” Sun Hwa said, patting the young author on the back. Her hands were as relentless as ever. As Juho smiled awkwardly, she took a pack of beer she had brought and handed it to him.

“It’s a gift!”

The pack was quite heavy. Meanwhile, Bom took the bag of strawberries she had brought and waved it in front of Juho. Seo Kwang took it from her and buried his nose in the bag as if trying to comfort himself. While Bom looked at Juho’s uniform on the wall, Juho put the pack in the refrigerator and said, “This is a great gift you got me. Too bad I don’t drink, though.”

“Don’t worry. I will! Gotta get drunk while you’re young and free!”

“You must have a pretty high tolerance,” Juho asked. At which, Sun Hwa placed her hands on her sides, looking proud of her drinking prowess.

“Well, you’re at that age, all right.”

“C’mon! Act your age! Enjoy yourself!”

“Should we order some food, then? What do you guys want?”

Sun Hwa shook her head. However, respecting the majority opinion, which asked for pizza, Juho called the pizza shop nearby and placed an order. It was the long-awaited reunion of the old Literature Club members. Although, they were missing a person.

“We’re missing Baron,” Bom said, sounding bummed out and like she had read Juho’s mind.

“He’s serving in the military too.”

“You too, Baron!?” Seo Kwang cried out, clasping his head. Juho was able to relate to his desperate behavior, at least to a certain extent. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Juho walked over to the door, opening it gladly. It was a man wearing a brusque expression on his face. It was Sung Pil.

“Hey.”

“You’re late!”

“Come on in!”

“All right,” Sung Pil said, playing along with Bom. Although Juho had heard of how close he and Bom had gotten, the young author couldn’t help but be taken aback once he actually witnessed it in person.

“You two got really close, huh?”

“Bom kept dragging me out to drink. There’s nothing like alcohol to get close to someone.”

“So, does that mean everyone there got drunk?” Juho asked, picturing Sung Pil and Bom speaking gibberish to each other.

However, Bom waved her hand in denial, adding, “Sung Pil didn’t have any.”

“Like somebody he knows.”

Knowing how Sung Pil could get when drunk, Juho looked intently at his friend, who avoided making eye contact with the young author, keeping the brusque expression on his face as usual.

“I just thought I needed to get my life together. That’s all.”

“Hm?”

At that moment, Seo Kwang came out from between Juho and Bom, placing his hand on Sung Pil’s shoulder, and said, “Sung Pil! Loved your new book!” Sung Pil stared quietly at him, without moving his hand away.

“Which book?” Juho asked, and Seo Kwang said, “He recently wrote a short story for a literary magazine that I subscribe to.”

Seo Kwang was referring to a literary magazine that was published by a massive publisher. Then, Seo Kwang added unhindered, “Sung Pil’s really good at establishing a connection with readers. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that he encourages building the connection? Anyway, no matter which character you look at, you’re bound to grow attached to it. It’s just so ironic that he’s such a rigid person in real life. I’m tellin’ ya, he keeps improving day by day. It makes it easier that Yun Woo’s not in the picture, doesn’t it? You’re arguably one of the most successful rookie authors.”

“Not necessarily.”

“I gotta hand it to ya. I really appreciate your go-getter spirit, reaching for the sky as though there were no limit. It’s simply radiant. At this rate, you might even surpass Yun Woo! You know what? You should just go for it while you’re at it! Bring him down!”

Sung Pil spoke no further on that regard. At which point, Seo Kwang patted him on the back as if he liked the rookie author even more. Of course, Sun Hwa was about to let her bookworm friend have it.

“Stop babbling and get on with setting up the table!”

“OK! All right! There’s hardly anything to put there… ” Seo Kwang said, making his way to the kitchen reluctantly. Juho glanced at Sung Pil. Thankfully, the rookie author seemed quite comfortable. With a smile on his face, Juho asked his author friend, “So, a short story, huh?”

“Yep. It was a request. I’m very grateful.”

“I had no idea.”

“So…” Sung Pil dragged on, looking for something to talk about. Instead of questioning him further, Juho murmured, “I wanna see it.”

“… I’ll go get it,” Sung Pil said as if ready to bolt out of the apartment at any given minute. At that, Juho raised his hand in order to prevent him from doing so.

“I knew you’d ask! Which is why I brought it with me,” Seo Kwang interjected with the bag of strawberries still in his hands.

“You did?” Sung Pil asked, looking as though caught off guard, which only encouraged Seo Kwang further. Reaching for his bag, Seo Kwang pulled a magazine with a purple cover out. It looked quite intriguing.

Looking at her bookworm friend as though in disbelief, Sun Hwa said, “He’s a walking bookstore, that one.”

Taking the magazine from Seo Kwang, Juho said, “I look forward to reading it.”

“Hey! Pizza’s here! Somebody get the door!”

At that, Sung Pil moved without hesitation. Meanwhile, after staring intently at the magazine, Juho set it down elsewhere.

“Aren’t you gonna read it?”

“I wanna take my time and savor it later.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Seo Kwang said, crossing his arms and nodding in agreement.

“Come get your drinks.”

The party started as everyone gathered in the living room, each with a slice of pizza in one hand and a can of beer on the other. Although Juho had taken a can, Sung Pil didn’t seem to have taken one for himself. Resting his chin on his hand, the young author asked, “Are you not drinking anymore?”

Sung Pil’s eyebrows winced at Juho’s playful question.

“No.”

Juho chuckled quietly. Witnessing a change in a colleague’s lifestyle was strangely entertaining. Meanwhile, the old Literature Club members started pouring out their hearts to each other, which mostly consisted of complaints about college life: professors, classmates, upperclassmen, registering for classes, GPAs, job searches, the upcoming future, the meaningless past, the uncertain present, doubts directed toward each other, the distrust toward society.

“Life sucks.”

“My money.”

“Why did I choose this major?”

As the atmosphere kept sinking, Seo Kwang stepped in to change the subject. He was the person most capable to speak with joy.

“Have you read Dong Gil Uhm’s new book?” he asked. As Juho brought the can up to his mouth, he felt Sung Pil’s gaze following the can in his hand. Tasting alcohol for the first time in a long time, it was refreshing but bitter, and unpleasant.

“Yep.”

At that, Seo Kwang threw both of his hands up toward the ceiling before anyone else.

“Wasn’t it incredible? It was the essence of what a hard-boiled novel should be like! ‘Frigid Winter.’ A snowy winter night, completely engulfed in darkness, and the merciless cold that freezes your hands and feet right off. I think this is definitely going to be the turning point in his career.”

“How was it?” Sung Pil asked Juho. Sitting up, he replied, “I know I still have some time left in the military, but I think it was one of the most memorable books I read at the base.”

“I thought so!” Seo Kwang exclaimed, clenching his hands into fists.

“He’s definitely stepped up his game. His depictions were so realistic. I could really tell that he did his research. The violent emotions and the touching story hidden behind that distinct writing style. I find myself literally craving his book.”

Sung Pil gave Seo Kwang, who was wiping his eyes as though crying, a confused look. Meanwhile, Sun Hwa clicked her tongue and said, “Always so dramatic.”

“It’s good to express your inner thoughts to others.”

“Not when you’re drunk.”

“Art starts with expression. The honest feeling of a deeply moved reader. This is a beautiful melody coming from the bottom of one’s heart.”

“More like noise.”

At that, Seo Kwang narrowed his eyes at Sun Hwa, who sneered and drank her beer.

“Two authors, one aspiring writer, one bookworm, and one former Literature Club member. I guess there’s no getting around talking about books,” Sun Hwa said with a bright smile on her face. “Personally, I liked Dae Soo Na’s book a lot more.”

“That’s also a really good one,” Seo Kwang said, weighing in with Sun Hwa.

Bom also chimed in, saying, “It was terrifying, though.”

“But, it’s a little light for a novel written by Dae Soo Na.”

“She always crosses the line on purpose. I like that about her.”

Juho brought his beer up to his mouth again, feeling Sung Pil’s eyes following his hand yet again. After looking off into the air for a brief moment, Juho said to his author friend, “You could have one, you know.”

“… I’m thinking about it.”

“You’re not working on anything. It can’t hurt to have a drink or two as long as you’re responsible about it.”

“…”

“C’mon! Have some!” Sun Hwa said gladly, opening a can of beer and offering it to Sung Pil. People seemed to be having a good time, and it made sense that Sung Pil would want to drink. Besides, he was in a place where he could afford to have a drink or two. Taking the drink from Sun Hwa, Juho handed it to Sung Pil and said, “Cheers.” The cans made a dull sound as they bumped against each other. At that, the others joined in with their nearly-empty cans.

—

“Well, this is awkward.”

There were times when people tended to be recklessly brave: when they had just become used to something. Having gotten used to drinking, Juho’s friends weren’t afraid of getting drunk. Seeing his friends sprawled all across his apartment, the young author sighed deeply.

“This room is way too small for this,” Juho said, putting down his can of beer, which he had hardly drunk. He had been taking very small sips the entire time. After moving all the empty cans aside, he sat on the couch, looking around his quiet house, and picked up the magazine containing the short story written by Sung Pil.

“All right. Let’s see,” Juho said, looking at the cover of the magazine. That particular issue was on tradition and innovation, which gave the young author an idea as to what his author friend might have written. Regardless of the field, there were progressives and conservatives. Juho opened the magazine and found Sung Pil’s short story toward the middle. The words printed on the pages put him in a good mood almost instantly. At that moment, a bird flew past the window, cawing.

“Eh? What are you up to?” Seo Kwang said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. Juho remained silent. After pouring himself a cup of water and drinking it, Seo Kwang walked toward the young author and looked at the pages over his shoulders. Despite his friend standing right behind him, Juho didn’t respond.

“You can see it too, can’t you? He’s gonna make it big,” Seo Kwang said. When it came to books and authors, his words tended to carry significant weight. The sheer number of books he had read was beyond anybody’s imagination, and they had given him a sharp eye.

“It’s only been a year since he started writing.”

Meanwhile, Seo Kwang stared intently at Juho from behind.

“Jealous?”

“A little bit.”

From Seo Kwang’s point of view, Juho’s attitude didn’t make a lot of sense. However, it wasn’t a new development. Because of that, Seo Kwang felt that the young author had gone crazy at times. Crazy about writing. Crazy about sentences.

“Well, fret not, friend,” Seo Kwang said calmly. Sung Pil was unbelievable. His skill definitely set him apart from all the other rookie authors. He was growing at an explosive rate. However, that wasn’t to say that he had caught up to Yun Woo. In reality, Sung Pil still had a ways to go until he caught up to the other authors in Juho’s literary magazine. Nevertheless, that didn’t change the fact that Sung Pil had something unique to offer as an author, which would give readers a reason to read his book. Staring intently at the reflection of his friend’s face, Seo Kwang asked, “You’re not actually anxious, are you?”

“I’m very anxious.”

At that, a corner of Seo Kwang’s mouth started twitching. If what the young author had said was true…

“You really don’t know yourself.”

Only then, did Juho look up. Streams of light poured into the apartment through the window. ‘Of course,’ Seo Kwang murmured to himself internally. Juho didn’t seem shaken in any way. Not one bit. Envy, sense of urgency, fear, anger. Nothing.

“That wouldn’t be very Yun Woo-like,” Seo Kwang said, chugging the remaining water in his cup. There was something refreshing about his swallowing sound.

“The really anxious ones are probably all the other authors around you.”