Chapter Text
He thought of her sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of his daily life.
Is she okay? Does she have lots of friends now?
But then he quickly tamped it down because thinking of her would bring back other more painful emotions involving Halmeoni that he’d rather bury deep. The shame of having thought so negatively of the one person who had loved him unconditionally, without pretense, was like a ton of bricks that he’d rather have mummified and cremated. He was a child then, and perhaps a child now too - for not having the guts to look for Halmeoni and to verbalize all the apology he’d uttered in his mind a thousand times over.
He wished he wasn’t so terrible at this - at feelings.
“They’re in the waiting room,” Park Dong Cheon’s voice brought him back to reality. He nodded, gliding towards the door with only his phone in hand, “Fix your collars,” he muttered to Dong Cheon as they walked down the hall to where a few twenty-something engineering fresh graduates were undoubtedly fidgeting nervously, awaiting his arrival.
Here we go again...
***
It’s not that Jipyeong enjoyed being so sharp-tongued. Did he get some sort of masochistic enjoyment out of seeing yet another CEO-hopefuls flinch when he pointed out the laundry list of issues in their business plan (or worse - the lack thereof)? Of course not. In his eyes, it’s just yet another unprepared, naive soul who mistakenly thought that the world will be kind to him or her. The sooner they realize this, the better because Jipyeong knew, better than anyone, than no one will look out for you but you; his entire life is a testament to that. So when he presented fact-based faults to these young hopefuls, he wasn’t doing it out of spite or cruelty. He wanted them to quickly realize the ugly truth so that they could either move beyond it or leave.
This was certainly his MO when he was confronted with three, disheveled, plaid-wearing (what is this? The 70s?) engineering graduates and their traffic light-themed business card. Han Jipyeong the Person was the one who came to them, but he couldn’t turn off Han Jipyeong the Investor either.
But you need them - him, Han Jipyeong. For Halmeoni. For Dalmi, the Person rang in his ears for a split second before the Investor took over and spewed reasons why they wouldn’t ever make it. Because honestly, how could they? He had just witnessed them very easily and willingly giving away their technology to a competitor. How will anyone this incompetent survive?
Walking away without an answer that Halmeoni needed made him feel terrible. This was his once chance of redeeming himself and he had just blown it. You and your mouth, Han Jipyeong, the Person berated as he drove away from the dingy rooftop office.
What in the world is he going to do...
***
He took a few deep breaths, taking the few seconds of solitary space inside his beverage fridge of all places to allow his mind to take everything in.
He’s in his apartment, on his birthday, celebrating Nam Dosan, and doing the one thing he’s always wanted to do on his birthday. There’s something cruel about all this - like the universe playing some cosmic joke as a way to remind him yet again that he was alone in this world. That it took some crazy, Korean-drama level convoluted plot for him to get the birthday that he’s always wanted.
Fuck you… he mentally threw the middle finger to whatever deity was residing up there, taking a deep breath before returning to his seat on the floor.
***
This woman… Seo Dalmi... was certifiably nuts.
He paced and watched her on stage, chosen as a CEO in his company’s annual Hackathon. How did she manage to surprise him at every turn? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The Seo Dalmi he’d exchange letters with was a great person and even without having to read her thoughts on paper, he knew that she was special. She had to be with a grandmother like Halmeoni - you couldn’t be raised by a woman like that and not be fucking amazing, but still...
He watched her work with the ragtag team consisting of the three Sans and a woman he learned from Dong Cheon is called Saha. Throughout the Hackathon, he felt something rising within him - an unfamiliar feeling that made him pace nervously from one side of the room to the other, eyes and mind constantly searching for them - for her. And when he saw her down the hall, looking visibly jittery from nerves courtesy of the upcoming presentation, he schooled his face into stoic detachment and offered her his advice.
He knew that no one else deserved this more than Seo Dalmi and against his usual nature, he was doing everything he could to make it happen.
***
As he witnessed her spinning in Nam Dosan’s arms, celebrating their well-deserved victory, he felt something entirely familiar creep up. It was something he knew had always been there like a birthmark. But he thought he had successfully removed it; he thought he had made sure that he would have no reason to even think about it anymore. And yet... here he was, acutely aware of the birthmark he thought he has been rid of...
Longing.
Longing for something that he could never have - like a set of parents who picked him up from school. Like not having to think about where to live once the orphanage deems him old enough to fend for himself. Like friends that he could joke around with without care. Like a sibling who could give him advice whenever he's having a hard time. Like a grandmother who would make up a fake penpal just so he wouldn't feel lonely. Like hot dogs from a neighborhood stall that always smelled so enticingly warm. And now... longing for someone who perhaps could have been his.
Perhaps he should start looking for companies in the business of removing emotional birthmarks too.