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“You’re next.” The facility worker pushes him forward, and Jisung stumbles.
He hesitantly steps onto the scene. He looks around and sees a crowd of people down the podium.
“This is our only quokka hybrid, Han Jisung. Quokka hybrids are rare, so you probably won’t come across another chance to buy one!”
The people below don’t look too impressed. Many aren’t even looking at him.
Jisung knows why.
He isn’t a typical hybrid, and not in the good sense.
Most people look for cat or dog hybrids—they are advertised as the best companions. Bird hybrids are also quite popular, for owners who care about their looks and beauty, who want to admire their shiny feathers, listen to their pretty singing. There are also some more sophisticated options for buyers, like ferret hybrids. Or some cute options, like bunnies.
Jisung, on the other hand, barely even looks like a hybrid. He has small, round ears and a ‘rat’s tail’ he’s ashamed of. He usually hides it, but today he has to expose it.
He’s asked to turn around, and a round of giggles erupts.
“Look at his tail!”
“What even is that?”
“I wouldn’t take that thing for free.”
Jisung is asked to face the crowd again, and he does it with tears in his eyes.
The auctioneer presents Jisung’s profile—his age, his skills, some lies about his personality. “Did you know that quokkas are the happiest amongst all the hybrids? Jisung will for sure lighten up your household.”
“He doesn’t look too happy,” someone comments.
Jisung attempts to smile, which is met with even more laughter.
He didn’t think that the auction would go this badly. He didn’t expect to be bought, but he also didn’t expect to get so humiliated. He wants to run off the podium, hide in some corner, curl up and cry, but he knows he can’t do that. It would tarnish the auction’s reputation, and we would get severely punished.
So he’s standing still, swallowing the tears, not looking at the people in front of him, instead staring at the wall behind them.
“Anyway.” The host coughs. “It’s time for bidding. The opening price is two million won. Any buyer interested?”
There’s silence.
Jisung closes his eyes, praying for it to be over soon.
“It’s a one of a kind opportunity, as I already mentioned—”
“Bang Chan, two million one hundred.”
“Two million one hundred thousand for mister Bang Chan, who’ll give two hundred?”
Jisung opens his eyes. The person who bid on him is lowering their hand—a young man, maybe in his thirties, with unusually curly hair.
Jisung makes eye contact with him, and the man sends him a slight smile. Flustered, Jisung looks down.
His heart is beating fast, and he can’t believe what just happened. What is that man doing? Everyone in the room treats Jisung like a laughing stock, yet this man somehow wants him. Why?
Is it because he’s poor, and Jisung’s cheap? What other reason could there be?
“Anyone?” the auctioneer asks. “It’s your last chance!”
It’s as if Jisung’s world stops. Everything around him is hazy, blurry.
The hammer hits the table one last time, and he’s sold.