Eighteen’s Bed Novel Completed - Chapter 2 Selfish One-Sided Love

Jun. My surname is Kang and my given name is Jun, but everyone calls me Kang Jun. “Kang Jun” rolls off the tongue better than “Jun,” right? Han Junwoo was the first to say that when we were in the same class for the first time in first grade, and after that, I became ‘Kang Jun.’ There are a few who still call me Jun sometimes, but that story can wait.

In first grade, Han Junwoo, whom I met for the first time in the same class, was subtly different from me even at a glance. His appearance, from his height to his skin color, was strikingly different, and his grades consistently hovered at the lower end of the school rankings.

So, did I ignore Han Junwoo the moment I saw him? As someone who believed that everyone naturally had a hierarchy suited to their place, I certainly would have done so normally. But strangely, I couldn’t do that with Han Junwoo. The first time I faced Han Junwoo, his light brown eyes intensely overwhelmed me.

Han Junwoo had a unique scent. I couldn’t identify the nature of the smell, but I was captivated by his colorless fragrance, and like a fish drawn to bait, I spoke to him without realizing it.

I often found commonalities between Han Junwoo and Kang Jun. For example, external things like being part of the popular crowd at school, and the label of being from a very wealthy family.

For instance, our school’s two sides are divided into a wealthy neighborhood and a shantytown.

Fortunately, I am from the wealthy side. I’ve lived in the neighborhood with the most expensive land values my entire life. Born an only son to parents who doted on their child, I grew up wanting for nothing. Especially the fact that my parents held social power was like being given a golden treasure on a small palm for a newborn like me, so it’s easy to understand why I grew up a little cunning.

Anyway, for that reason, our school had children from wealthy homes and terribly poor homes mixed together in one classroom. Han Junwoo was the former. After learning that fact, I writhed with joy. I approached Han Junwoo without hesitation, with a clear justification, and we naturally became friends.

Just as I was good at studying, Han Junwoo was good at fighting. So, the kids who had some power naturally gathered around Han Junwoo, and in less than a month, Han Junwoo had taken his place at the top of the East Wing’s clique. Thus, Han Junwoo was called the most famous male student in the East Wing.

The tightly closed door in front of me remained in place for a long time, until the moment I tried to rub my aching stomach with one hand, and it opened. Through the crack in the door, I saw Han Junwoo’s flushed skin. His red skin let go of the door, and the door, having lost its support, closed again. Gradually, the door obscured Han Junwoo. I subtly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and entered the room before the door closed completely. I was desperate.

Entering the room, I saw Han Junwoo already sitting on the bed. Han Junwoo was wearing nothing but a single, tight-fitting piece of underwear, a cigarette in his mouth, chewing on its end.

“Damn it. Dad’s at it again. You answer my phone, and we’ll get our story straight. Say we were studying together.”

Han Junwoo clicked his lighter, but didn’t light the cigarette. His face clearly showed the languor after a sexual encounter. My stomach was still stiff and sore. I rubbed my stomach as if pushing it, approached Han Junwoo, took the cigarette, full of chew marks, from his mouth, and snapped at him with a tone dripping with annoyance.

“Why should I?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Yes, friend. Friend. Han Junwoo’s habit of dragging out the end of his words made me especially sad. It felt like my heart was being torn to shreds. But I maintained a rather shameless expression.

“Just know that I’ll pay back all my debts, no matter what.”

“Thanks.”

The room smelled of chestnut flowers, and the peculiar faint scent of a woman subtly stimulated my nose. In fact, it was all thanks to Han Junwoo that I came to know the nature of that smell.

I heard from guys who went to the same middle school that Han Junwoo had been sleeping with girls since around his third year of middle school. Rumor had it he lost his virginity with a classmate in the school bathroom, which says it all.

Surprisingly, he was said to have looked about twenty back then. Han Junwoo had a mature appearance for a high school student. People who saw him for the first time thought he was an adult. His strong, prominent features created a profound atmosphere.

After entering high school, Han Junwoo began to confidently frequent clubs whenever he felt restless. Since he had a lot of money, he somehow acquired a fake ID that started with an adult’s birth year, proudly showing it off as if it were his own. Picking up attractive women for one-night stands had become a hobby, or rather, a non-hobby, for quite some time. His ability to maintain such a dissolute lifestyle without being caught was largely due to his appearance.

If you were to pick apart each feature, his eyes, nose, and mouth weren’t necessarily the best, but when all three were put together, he became a truly mysterious handsome man. The aura he exuded was so refined that it couldn’t possibly come from a high school student; most people who saw Han Junwoo assumed he was around twenty-five.

I shook my head, pretending to look for someone. Actually, it meant nothing. It was just that the heavy atmosphere after this encounter made my stomach churn so much I felt like throwing up, and I couldn’t bear to endure it in silence.

“Where’s Go Yohan?”

“He went home.”

“……”

“No matter how I think about it, that bastard is truly crazy. What a funny guy.”

Han Junwoo rested his chin on his hand and laughed. I frowned.

Go Yohan is the second bastard I hate.

That bastard only became close with Han Junwoo in second grade. Although I desperately don’t want to admit it, since they hang out together, it’s probably right to classify them as friends. When Han Junwoo was most famous in the East Wing, the rumor that Go Yohan was in the West Wing was also famous.

However, we rarely had occasion to meet. The most we did was occasionally catch a glimpse of each other in the cafeteria on the first floor of the building between the West and East Wings.

When the guys next to me in the cafeteria nudged my shoulder with their elbows and said, “Hey, that’s Go Yohan,” I felt a slight curiosity and stood on my tiptoes to peek. There, among the black heads, was a noticeably tall, somewhat sharp-looking guy. The moment I saw him, I immediately thought, “That’s him.”

“He looks like he has a bad personality.”

When I said that, one of Han Junwoo’s minions replied.

“Yeah, a little. He’s incredibly self-centered, they say.”

I just nodded vaguely at the guy’s scoffing remark.

I hated to admit it, but for some reason, I instinctively knew why he was in competition with Han Junwoo. That made me dislike him even more, but somehow I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Flashy melancholy. That was my first impression of Go Yohan.

Then, by chance, our eyes met. Even if Go Yohan had felt my gaze, it was strange. In the cafeteria, teeming with black heads, I wasn’t the only one looking at him, so it was unpleasantly coincidental that our eyes met. He had thin pupils within long eyes. Strangely, they were noticeably small. I opened my mouth in a reflex, like flinching from a stone.

‘What are you looking at?’

Perhaps seeing the shape of my mouth, Go Yohan narrowed one eye. Honestly, I was a little intimidated, so I turned my head away, pretending it was nothing. Then, I spoke loud enough for the guy next to me to hear.

“But he kind of looks like a snake.”

After that, Go Yohan and I often made eye contact, but we always pretended not to know each other and passed by. When our eyes met, Go Yohan would often lower his head to avoid my gaze, then raise his head again to meet my eyes. Nine out of ten times, Go Yohan did that, and strangely, I, assimilated into that gaze, did it one out of ten times. The number became uncountable, and I gave up counting after the eighteenth time.

Like a miracle, Han Junwoo and I were in the same class again in second grade. While secretly thrilled about my continued connection with Han Junwoo, I encountered a familiar face. What a truly surprising and infuriating thing. And at the same time, I properly saw the face of that famous reputation for the first time: Go Yohan.

Go Yohan was the first to speak.

“Hey. Wanna eat together?”

Damn it.

And just as everyone expected, the two became friends. Han Junwoo was a man who knew his own worth, and Go Yohan, who was implicitly called his rival, was, by Han Junwoo’s standards, very manly and a popular guy among their peers. Han Junwoo and Go Yohan’s friendship was bound to happen.

Among the classmates, the topic of who would win if Han Junwoo and Go Yohan fought often came up. In my opinion, there seemed to be no reason for the two of them to fight at all. If Han Junwoo and I were outwardly opposites, Go Yohan and Han Junwoo were cut from the same cloth.

However, there was one unique difference between these two, who were otherwise so similar in standing.

Go Yohan strangely had a studious side, even though his ears were so pierced they looked tattered.

For example, when Han Junwoo was in heat, he would immediately take a liking to a girl and spend the night with her. When the other boys asked about his nocturnal escapades, he would proudly describe the suggestive dawns. Go Yohan, however, would scoff at the desires of males in rut who wanted to touch breasts. Sometimes, he would even squeeze a fleshy guy’s chest so hard it looked like it would burst, asking if breasts were really that good. When the guy whose chest was grabbed writhed in pain and screamed, only then would Go Yohan chuckle and let go.

“This pig has bigger breasts than a girl? Go touch his tits. Hey, and you, you’re an eyesore. Wear a bra. You just expose your chest. It’s rude. Seriously.”

Such vulgar words were also part of it.

Yet, when given the opportunity, he would say ambiguous things like dedicating his purity to God in the future, which was a difference. Han Junwoo, without ever asking me, first offered to forge an ID for Go Yohan, but Go Yohan refused his offer, saying it was a truly useless thing to do.

Han Junwoo and the guys who hung out with him found Go Yohan’s unique side amusing, but I didn’t particularly like it. The reason was simple: he was friends with Han Junwoo. And the two of them walked around as if they were best friends. That was the only reason. I just hated it. It was seething jealousy.

Still, I got along with Go Yohan tolerably well. It was my strength not to show my emotions in any situation. Also, because Go Yohan was close with Han Junwoo. Yes. Han Junwoo was the center of all my relationships.

Actually, the days I spend thinking about Han Junwoo are fewer than the days I feel frustrated with myself and think I’m truly an idiot. Yet, I remained this way.

While Han Junwoo, who had sat on any available chair, just threw a few words at me and went into the bathroom to wash up, I spent my time thinking various thoughts. After a few minutes, Han Junwoo’s phone rang. Han Junwoo, who had finished washing in the meantime, picked up his phone from the bed and threw it to me, and I caught it. Then Han Junwoo’s father’s voice came from the other end.

I cleared my throat. What else was there to show off?

“Yes, this is Jun.”

-Jun? Are you with Junwoo right now, by any chance?

“Ah, yes.”

-Really? I guess I worried for nothing. I thought Junwoo was fooling around again, not getting his head straight. Well, our Jun has a very handsome voice too.

“Thank you.”

-No problem. And how are you doing?

“Thanks to you. Have you been well too, sir?”

-Of course. But you speak so elegantly. I wish our Junwoo would speak as nicely as you. He’s so ill-mannered. So, you were studying with Junwoo?

“Yes. It seems Junwoo forgot to contact you. He’s been busy with exams coming up soon.”

-So you’ve been studying together this whole time?

“Yes. He’s been with me the whole time.”

-Oh, that’s a relief then. If he’s with you, I can rest easy.

“Not at all.”

-No, no. With Jun, he can’t get into trouble.

“Really, it’s nothing. Well, I’ll make sure Junwoo gets to school safely.”

-Alright. Then I’ll leave him to you. Keep being good friends with my son. And don’t fight.

“Yes. Of course. Goodbye.”

The lies flowed out so easily.