Eighteen’s Bed

In contrast, I had considerable self-control. My life had been meticulously regulated by my parents, and it had shaped my nature. I despised showing vulnerability to others more than anything else. As a result, even when faced with emotionally turbulent situations, I could endure them with remarkable composure.

This often led people to describe me as a dull person who never got angry. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel anger—it was that every emotional disturbance I’d endured had hardened into a protective shell. Over time, it became nearly impossible for anything to truly provoke me.

That held true for everything involving Han Junwoo as well.

It was this trait that allowed me to remain in Junwoo’s circle. I was a decent enough kid that my parents didn’t need to worry about me, and I occupied a respectable position in the school’s social hierarchy. I wanted to preserve that position—one I had painstakingly built for myself.

"Hey, Go Yohan."

"Yeah?"

"What’s with your tone? It’s disgusting."

"Oh, like your face?"

"Real funny."

If you call someone ugly, it only stings if they’re actually ugly. Junwoo merely laughed off Yohan’s playful jab.

"Yohan, don’t you know any girls? You’ve got plenty of people around you."

"What kind of girls?"

"Decent ones."

"What do you mean by decent?"

"Don’t play dumb, damn it."

Yohan chuckled, fiddling with a rubber ball in his hands, but didn’t bother answering. Junwoo didn’t seem too invested in getting an answer anyway—his gaze lingered intently on a shabby head at the other end of the room.

"…Someone with a bit of a baby face and a cute personality might be nice."

Junwoo was impulsive, crude, violent, and thoughtless. He’d been a slave to his sexual urges since puberty, so I hardly needed to prove his nature myself. And so, Junwoo’s harassment, lacking the subtlety of restraint, only became more blatant.

By today, the end of summer break in August, Han Taesan had been left completely isolated. But even that wasn’t enough to satisfy Junwoo.

Although Junwoo’s group and others like it operated at similar levels, their behavior differed. His immediate cronies, like Choi Donghwan, Hong Hwijoon, and Park Dongchul, would linger a few minutes after the bell, waiting for him. Meanwhile, others from the West Wing, like Kim Minho, Lee Seokhyun, and Kim Seokmin, would bolt out of the room the moment lunch was announced.

Back in my first year, I had been part of Junwoo’s group. But by the second year, that changed. It started when Hong Hwijoon made a flippant comment: "Kang Jun eats with Yohan, doesn’t he? Man, you’re so slow at eating." Without my input, I was excluded.

The most humiliating part? Junwoo didn’t care. Whether I stayed or left made no difference to him. Damn it. I glanced at Junwoo and asked quietly.

"Am I really that slow at eating?"

"Of course you are. You always sit there chewing like a cow, while the rest of us finish lunch in five minutes flat."

"Yeah, we’re always late to soccer because of you."

"…Oh."

"We’ve got a bet match with the guys from the next class today, so go eat with Yohan."

"…"

My pride kept me from asking to stay. Besides, I figured the indigestion I’d suffered all through my first year was probably due to rushing my meals to keep up. And, honestly, the thought of clinging to Junwoo like a fish’s excrement disgusted even me. So, I didn’t plead or protest.

And just like that, I was out of the group. My will didn’t matter.

Trying to act indifferent, I found myself making eye contact with Yohan, the only other person left behind. He was lounging on his desk, bouncing a rubber ball, and looked at me before asking casually.

"When are you eating?"

"…"

"I usually go in about ten minutes."

"Yeah, that works for me too."

In truth, I’d never eaten at that time before. But survival instincts kicked in—if I wanted to stay in someone’s group, even Yohan’s, I had to adapt. The first time I ate lunch with Yohan alone, I ended up leaving half my food uneaten, using a lack of appetite as an excuse. Yohan raised an eyebrow and remarked.

"What are you, eighteen and still picky about food?"

"What’s it to you?"

"Honestly, you’re like a kid."

"Even adults don’t eat fish cutlets with tartar sauce."

I shot back petulantly, glaring at him. What did he care? It annoyed me.

Back in our first year, Junwoo and I were almost always together. But by the second year, those moments had dwindled significantly, and it was all because of Yohan. Still, I had no right to complain. Yohan outranked me.

Yohan and Junwoo’s friend groups overlapped a lot, mostly consisting of delinquent students at the bottom of our year’s academic rankings. These were the kinds of people who’d forge fake early-dismissal slips or sneak out of class, exploiting the lax attitude of teachers who didn’t bother to confirm their whereabouts.

Junwoo, mindful of his parents’ scrutiny, usually stayed in class until the end. As for Yohan, whose reputation was almost as infamous, I’d once asked him why he bothered sticking around. His response had stuck with me.

"Do you think I’m that pathetic?"

"No, but all your friends are like that."

"Friends? What kind of bullshit is that? They’re not my friends. They’re trash."

"What?"

"A student’s duty is to attend class and learn, right?"

"…That’s true."

"Don’t lump me in with trash like them. It pisses me off."

"Yeah, sorry."

"I wasn’t asking for an apology."

Of course, it was a reasonable statement, but hearing it from Go Yohan felt absurd. This was the same guy whose so-called friends skipped school at least once a week.

Regardless, I ended up spending most of my second year with Han Junwoo and Go Yohan. I considered it a sacred space that no one else could intrude upon. It would’ve been perfect without Yohan, but surprisingly, we got along better than expected. I didn’t like him, but he wasn’t so intolerable that I’d storm off. He was just… annoying.

But Han Taesan turned even those days into a nightmare.

Today felt slightly different from usual.

"Damn it. Hong Hwijoon and Choi Donghwan, those bastards," Junwoo cursed, holding his head as fourth period neared its end.

Hearing his voice, I immediately turned around and asked, my tone tinged with anticipation, "They bailed again?"

"Fucking idiots."

"That sucks. Who’re you going to eat lunch with, then?"

I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. My fingers trembled slightly as I gripped the back of my chair. Junwoo let out a heavy sigh and looked at Yohan, sitting beside him.

"Hey, I’m eating with you guys today."

"Don’t. No one invited you," Yohan replied bluntly.

"Keep running your mouth, and I’ll shut it for you."

"God, today’s really making me want to punch you in the face, Junwoo."

"Go ahead and try, dumbass."

"Big talk for a loser who’d have to eat alone otherwise."

I couldn’t hold back any longer and butted into their exchange. "Come on, let’s all eat together. We can’t just leave Junwoo to eat alone."

My desperation must’ve been evident. Junwoo smirked triumphantly, glancing at Yohan with a sly grin.

"See? I’ve got great friends."

"…."

"What do you think, Yohan? Kang Jun’s pretty useful, isn’t he?"

Yohan scowled and shoved Junwoo’s pencil case off the desk, sending it clattering to the floor. Whether Yohan liked me or not didn’t matter. What mattered was that Junwoo joined us for lunch.

It had been so long since we’d eaten together, and I was so thrilled that I even forced myself to eat side dishes I didn’t like.

But Junwoo wasn’t paying attention to his food. His eyes scanned the cafeteria like a predator searching for prey. I was too focused on him to notice Yohan stealing side dishes off my tray. Then, without warning, Junwoo’s chopsticks fell, and his free hand grabbed the arm of someone passing by.

Looking up, I saw it was Han Taesan.

"Sit here," Junwoo said, nodding toward the empty seat next to him.

"You don’t have anyone else to eat with anyway."

Taesan’s face turned red. His eyes darted around, landing briefly on me before he bit his lip and slowly sat in the seat Junwoo had indicated.

I was stunned. Dumbfounded. Since when did Junwoo care about whether Taesan had friends? And the reason Taesan had no friends was entirely Junwoo’s doing. Junwoo hated it when anyone got close to Taesan.

A bitter taste rose in my throat.

Unconsciously, I slammed my spoon onto my tray, the sound loud and jarring. But the only one who reacted to the noise was Taesan, who flinched and looked at me nervously. Junwoo, however, was still fixated on Taesan.

Damn it. At that moment, I felt the protective shell I’d built over the years beginning to crack. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. Maybe I was nearing a breaking point I hadn’t realized existed.

Desperately clinging to denial, I snapped at Taesan.

"Taesan. Just leave."

"H-huh?"

"Don’t listen to Junwoo. Just go. It’s fine."

"Hey, Kang Jun," Junwoo said, his voice dangerously low.

When I told Han Taesan he could leave, Han Junwoo, who had ignored the loud noise I’d made earlier, finally ground his teeth and glared at me. That glare made my resolve even stronger, and I fixed my eyes stubbornly on Taesan.

"I’ll handle it. You can go."

"Uh, o-okay."

"And Junwoo, knock it off already."

"Yeah, I think so too," Yohan chimed in through a mouthful of food, his words barely intelligible. His sudden interjection felt misplaced. He chewed and swallowed deliberately slowly before glancing between me and Junwoo, continuing with an irritating smirk.

"What are you staring at? You’re killing my appetite."

As always, Yohan’s unnecessary provocations grated on my nerves. That guy was insufferable no matter how I looked at him. Ignoring him, I turned back to Junwoo.

"Leave Taesan alone."

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?" Junwoo shot back.

"It’s annoying for the rest of us to watch."

I didn’t blink as I stared him down, and Junwoo slammed his fist on the table. The sudden impact made Taesan, who was sitting awkwardly, flinch and squeeze his eyes shut. Yohan, on the other hand, chuckled lazily, raising a hand as if in surrender.

"Count me out of this."

He licked some water off his lips and added, "Let’s decide by majority vote. I’m neutral, Jun wants him gone, and Junwoo says he stays."

For the record, Yohan was one of the few people who called me "Jun," and I found it irritating every time. That irritation often slipped out in my tone, just as it did now.

"Stop butting in. Your vote doesn’t even count."

"Why not? There’s another person right there."

Yohan, unfazed, smirked and pointed at Taesan, motioning toward him with a casual flick of his hand.

"What? Is Taesan not a person?"

"You're insane."

"Why’s he quiet? Let him say what he wants."

As if Taesan could possibly speak in this tense atmosphere. I sighed at Yohan’s thoughtless antics, picked up my spoon, and idly stirred my rice. That’s when Junwoo tapped his finger on the table.

"If you say you’re leaving, you’re dead starting today."

Tears began to well up in Taesan’s large eyes, which glimmered as he looked at me as though pleading for help. Damn it. I pressed my lips together.

"It’s fine. I’ll stop him," I said, trying to reassure Taesan.

"Hey, Kang Jun," Junwoo growled, his voice tight with anger.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, pretending to be calm, but I felt the overwhelming urge to break down. To suppress it, I looked up at the ceiling for a moment before lowering my head and replying nonchalantly.

"What?"

"You…"

Junwoo clenched his fist, glaring at me with an intensity that felt like it could burn through me. Still, I had to endure it. My instincts screamed that I couldn’t leave Taesan with Junwoo.

But Junwoo’s focus shifted back to Taesan.

"I-I’ll go," Taesan stammered, his voice trembling.

"…"

"Th-thanks, Kang Jun."

Taesan hurriedly got up and left, his footsteps unsteady. As soon as he was gone, Junwoo turned abruptly, his gaze still fixed on Taesan’s retreating figure. Damn it. I swore under my breath without realizing it.

Junwoo slammed his utensils onto the floor and shoved his tray toward me before standing. He looked down at me, and I tried desperately to maintain my composure, pretending to be unaffected. I scooped up some soup, but my hand shook slightly as the spoon touched my lips.

"Stop meddling, Kang Jun."

"…"

"And quit pissing me off."

"…"

Through my peripheral vision, I saw Junwoo’s blurred figure outside my line of sight. Yohan’s long arm had intervened, though not out of any noble intention. He probably just wanted one of Junwoo’s untouched side dishes. Sure enough, Yohan smirked as he lifted the food to his mouth.

"Hey, Junwoo, I’m eating your lunch."

"Fuck it. Eat it all, asshole."

"Thanks."

Despite Junwoo’s harsh words, Yohan chuckled softly. Junwoo, clearly irritated, kicked the table before storming out of the cafeteria.

I remained seated, unmoving. Call it pride or something else entirely, but it was what kept me rooted, what had always kept me standing firm until now. So, I ate my lunch as usual, maintaining an air of indifference. But my mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of Junwoo and Taesan.

When I looked up toward where Han Taesan had been sitting, I saw him staring at me. Disgusted, I watched as he nodded slightly in my direction. As our eyes met, he bowed his head, and I immediately dropped mine, burying it into my tray.

Even though I’d told him I’d protect him, the truth was I didn’t care what happened to Han Taesan. What consumed me was the unbearable curiosity about what Junwoo might feel for Taesan and what he might do next.

In fact, I wanted to stand up right then, leave my tray, and follow Junwoo. My slipper tapped rhythmically against the floor as I fidgeted. Glancing around the room out of habit, I saw too many eyes watching.

Damn it.

Junwoo was impossible to miss, and I knew for sure some of the students here were paying attention. If I acted suspiciously, it would only draw unnecessary attention. I bit my lip hard.

The thought of the word gay—that horrifying, damning label—coloring my life in murky shades was unbearable. My heart pounded, but my body refused to move. My mouth felt dry and scratchy, making the food tasteless, but I forced myself to keep eating. My eyes began to burn, and my throat tightened.

I didn’t want anyone to notice the chaotic emotions swirling inside me. Desperate to distract myself, I shoveled food into my mouth mechanically, swallowing whatever I picked up. While I was engrossed in my frantic eating, someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

Turning, I saw Yohan with a hand over his mouth, speaking in a hushed tone.

"Jun."

"…What?"

"So, I actually took five of your sausages earlier. But since Junwoo gave me some of his, I’ll give you three back."

He said it like he was doing me some grand favor. His tone was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but let out a sharp breath of disbelief.

"What?"

"Man, I’m so generous. I’m definitely going to heaven, don’t you think?"

Whatever.

The absurdity of the situation, combined with the frustration building inside me, became too much. I abruptly stood up, throwing a careless remark at Yohan to finish his meal before leaving. I dumped my half-eaten food and headed to the sink at the front of the cafeteria, splashing cold water onto my face.

As I wiped my face with the back of my hand, I spotted Yohan strolling toward me, probably finished with his meal.

"How could you just leave me behind? Are you even human?"

"I was just feeling a little warm."

"What’s this? Why’d you wash your face so aggressively?"

"…No reason."

"You’re soaked."@@novelbin@@

Yohan twisted his lips into a teasing smirk.

"Oh, right. If it’s wet, it needs to be… wrung out, right?"

"Ha!"

I scoffed at his lewd joke, but as I laughed, I noticed Han Taesan standing nearby, his eyes meeting mine. Judging by his hurried demeanor, it seemed like he’d followed me. Surely not because I left the cafeteria, right? A creeping sense of discomfort climbed from my soles upward, sending a shiver through me.

Quickly turning my focus back to Yohan, I pretended to play along with his banter, deliberately ignoring Taesan’s gaze.

"Cut it out with the dirty jokes."

"What’s dirty about wringing something out? Jun, you’ve got a filthy mind."

"You said it in a way that makes it sound filthy!"

"Did I? Sounds like your imagination to me."

Yohan grinned, his eyes crinkling—a rare expression for him. He must’ve been enjoying my flustered reaction. What an irritating bastard.

"Seriously, it’s always the goody-goody types who secretly have the dirtiest thoughts."

"I do not!"

But life has a way of unfolding in unexpected ways, doesn’t it? While I was busy trying to shield Han Taesan from Junwoo’s torment, something I hadn’t anticipated began to happen.

It was the end of the school day.

"Jun, um, c-could you tell me what the teacher said earlier…?"

"What?"

"Junwoo sent me on an errand all of a sudden, so… I missed it."

"…"

For some reason, I’d become Han Taesan’s go-to person. I guess it made sense—he had no friends, so naturally, he’d turn to the only person who was remotely decent to him.

"The assignment is due next week."

"Really? Ugh, that sucks."

That wasn’t meant for you. Of course, Yohan, fully aware of this, replied as if I had addressed him. He grinned stupidly, and I shot him an irritated glare before turning back to Taesan.

"Thanks, Jun."

"…It’s nothing."

Another thing that annoyed me? At some point, Taesan had also started calling me "Jun."

"Thanks so much, Jun."

I frowned slightly.

I didn’t help you out of kindness. I just didn’t want you using this as an excuse to talk to Junwoo, you obnoxious bastard.

And Junwoo? He’s no better. I’m sure he deliberately gave you that errand just so you’d have a reason to speak to him. You might have come to me instead, but I know exactly what he was thinking.

Because I know Junwoo better than anyone else. I’ve watched him for over a year. It wasn’t Taesan—it was me who’s been by his side.

I despise Han Taesan.

The more I helped him, the more thoroughly I was ignored. At first, I tried to play it off, even greeting Junwoo casually. But all I got in return was a cold glance that left me frozen in place. After that, I gave up entirely—I didn’t even bother saying hello anymore.

It was the first time something like this had happened.

So what if we drift apart? Our relationship would have ended sooner or later anyway. We’re just high school friends.

The truth had always been clear as day, but I had forced myself to ignore it. Now that I was confronted with it so plainly, it felt unbearably cruel.