Siblings Work in Business (104)
“Let those three fight over the single room. Tae-hyun and I are going to use the triple room. If you don’t mind, you can join us.”
There was a triple room next to the single room on the second floor, a room the maknae line wasn’t even considering.
It had three beds.
Eun-ho looked back at the noisy trio.
“Seo Seung-yeon, your birthday is in August. I’m older, so you should give it to me. Don’t you know how to respect your elders?”
“Then I should get it. My birthday is in May.”
“What? Why are you making up the rules? That puts me at a disadvantage since my birthday is in December.”
“Who told you to be born so late?”
“Joo Song-min, you better not say that to my mom!”
Are they really in their thirties?
Eun-ho, watching Oh Hyun, Joo Song-min, and Seo Seung-yeon argue about whose birthday made them the oldest, thought to himself,
‘If I ask for the single room here…’
It would definitely start a bigger fight.
And sharing a room with two of them…
‘Hmm.’
No matter who he roomed with, it would probably be louder than sharing a room with Ji Ye-chan and Choi Tae-hyun.
Eun-ho nodded, accepting Ye-chan’s offer.
“Yes, that sounds good.”
He preferred a quiet room.
Eun-ho followed Tae-hyun and Ye-chan to the triple room on the second floor amidst the noise outside.
‘This is better than a single room.’
The room was bigger than he expected.
While they unpacked and rested, the sounds of the three arguing downstairs continued.
“If you’re going to be this loud, go sleep in tents outside!”
The CEO, seemingly unable to tolerate it any longer, came out of his room and yelled.
His lecture continued for a good 30 minutes.
‘They’ll be quiet now.’
I thought, knowing the power of the CEO’s lectures better than anyone.
But to my surprise, the noise continued soon after.
Perhaps the CEO was so good at handling us because he had experience managing these Toxin seniors…
It was almost impressive that they could ignore his lecture and continue fighting.
Surprisingly, they argued for almost another hour.
In the end, Oh Hyun got the single room. It seemed like he won some kind of game.
And the remaining twin room…
“So, Senior Seo Seung-yeon gets it all to himself?”
“Yeah, I heard some noise, it seems like those two fought again.”
Are they really in their thirties…?
Noticing Eun-ho’s disbelieving expression, Ji Ye-chan chuckled.
“Even the Team Leader couldn’t control them back then.”
“Ah…”
That was… something.
“At least it’s quiet now.”
Ji Ye-chan said, rummaging through his bag.
“Then where is Senior Seung-yeon sleeping?”
“There’s an extra room in the managers’ house.”
“Ah…”
Seo Seung-yeon was very sociable; he’d be comfortable anywhere.
Now that the fight had ended, the pension was quiet and peaceful.
The triple room had a large window that offered a nice view.
Eun-ho, liking the spot, chose the bed by the window.
Choi Tae-hyun, not liking the window side, chose the innermost bed, and Ji Ye-chan naturally took the middle one.
“Senior?”
Ji Ye-chan had been rummaging through his bag.
He took out what looked like skin creams and placed them on the bed, along with several pill containers.
Eun-ho, who had been watching him, feeling a bit awkward, sat down at a black table by the window and opened his lyric notebook.
As evening fell, the lights around the pension came on.
‘It’s pretty.’
The scenery was inspiring, so he started jotting down lyrics in his notebook.
「The darkened night
The light on this path
The settling stillness closes my eyes」
It was for the last song on their upcoming album, still unfinished.
Sometimes, it helped to write the lyrics first and then compose the melody. He wasn’t playing any music, but the melody echoed in his head as he wrote.
He must have listened to it dozens of times, breaking down the syllables, even while sleeping, eating, or traveling.
Click.
As he was writing…
The door opened, and Tae-hyun, who had gone out at some point, returned.
Tae-hyun stood by the door, staring at Ji Ye-chan.
‘What’s going on?’
Eun-ho, curious, also looked at Ji Ye-chan, who was lying on his bed like a pharaoh, a face mask on, his hands clasped on his chest.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Just… impressed.”
“Impressed by what? Being tired is terrible for your skin, you know?”
“I guess…”
“Do you want one? I brought extras.”
“Sure.”
“Pfft.”
Tae-hyun’s nonchalant offer made Eun-ho chuckle.
‘Uh oh.’
Tae-hyun and Ye-chan were now staring at him.
Just as Eun-ho was about to apologize…
“Give him one too.”
Ye-chan said, carefully tilting his head so as not to dislodge the mask.
“He’s too young.”
“You think so?”
“We need it more, we’re old.”
“I guess so.”
Tae-hyun replied nonchalantly.
“You two don’t look that much older than me.”
It wasn’t a joke; both Choi Tae-hyun and Ji Ye-chan, especially Ji Ye-chan, looked young enough to be in their 20s.
Seeing them like this, he wondered if these were the same people who commanded the stage with their captivating presence.
But now…
Choi Tae-hyun was also lying on his bed with a face mask.
“Do you want one?”
Perhaps because he noticed Eun-ho watching…
Eun-ho felt a bit awkward being the only one without a mask.
“Yes, please.”
Seo Seung-yeon, seemingly having finished unpacking, came to the second floor.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Hyung, can I come in?”
“Yeah, come in.”
“Hyung, what are you—…”
Seo Seung-yeon froze as he opened the door to the triple room.
After a moment of stunned silence, he muttered,
“I thought I walked into a morgue…”
A morgue.
Choi Tae-hyun and Eun-ho were lying on their beds like corpses, face masks on, their bodies stiff.
Then, Ji Ye-chan, suppressing his laughter, started to shake slightly.
“Hyung, hyung, please stop! You look like a corpse twitching in a horror movie!”
“Haha. You…”
Ji Ye-chan couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore.
“Ha, Seung-yeon, you’re giving me wrinkles…”
Ji Ye-chan said, taking off his mask. It seemed like it had dried.
Seo Seung-yeon, however, looked at him with a bewildered expression.
“You scared the crap out of me! I’m going to have nightmares!”
The noise woke Eun-ho.
“Oh, Eun-ho, you’re awake.”
“Ah, Senior, when did you get here?”
“Just now. I thought this room was a morgue when I opened the door.”
“A morgue? Ah, haha.”
Eun-ho chuckled, but Choi Tae-hyun, a heavy sleeper, was still asleep.
“So, why are you here? I thought you were in the other building.”
“Ah—”
At Ji Ye-chan’s question, Seung-yeon finally remembered his reason for coming.
“The Team Leader said he’s going into town and asked if we want anything.”
“Kko-ji (skewers) and ddong-jib (chicken gizzards).”
“Huh?”
Eun-ho answered immediately.
“You like chicken?”
“Yes. Specifically, I like the… special parts, I guess. They used to cost 100 won each when we were young.”
“They are chewy and delicious. I like skewers too, so tell him we want that.”
“Okay.”
Seo Seung-yeon went back downstairs.
“By the way, Eun-ho.”
“Yes?”
“Why do you call skewers ‘kko-ji’?”
Ji Ye-chan seemed genuinely curious. Eun-ho, after a moment of thought, said,
“I don’t know…?”
Curious, Eun-ho searched on his phone.
It turned out that, like “jeong-gu-ji jji-jim” and “bu-chu-jeon” (both meaning “chive pancake”), it was a regional dialect.
“It’s dialect.”
“Ah. Where are you from, Eun-ho?”
“You mean my hometown?”
“Yeah.”
“Here.”
Although I didn’t know where I was born, I grew up in this region.
“Ah, so that’s why you have a slight accent!”
Then…
Eun-ho, as if unsure what he was talking about, tilted his head.
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought I spoke standard Seoul dialect.”
“You don’t.”
“What? I do… don’t I?”
Ji Ye-chan chuckled. “When people say ‘anin-ga (isn’t it?)’ it usually has a rising intonation, but Eun-ho’s ‘anin-ga’ goes down on the ‘nin.’”
“Anin-ga? A-nin-ga? A-nin-ga?”
As Eun-ho repeated the phrase with different intonations, Choi Tae-hyun, who had been dozing, opened his eyes and asked,
“Why is he malfunctioning?”
“I think I triggered something he didn’t know about himself.”
After that, whenever Eun-ho recovered, Ji Ye-chan would playfully point out his dialect again, making him “malfunction.”
“Stop teasing our hoobae.”
“It’s fun.”
“You’re being mean.”
“Haha. Fine.”
Choi Tae-hyun, taking pity on the tormented Eun-ho, dragged Ji Ye-chan out of the room.
Eun-ho continued to “malfunction” until CEO Park returned.
Downstairs, it seemed like everyone from the other houses had gathered; it was crowded.
“What about the staff?”
“I already took care of them. Let’s eat.”
“Yay!”
The sound of beer cans opening filled the air. However, since they had filming tomorrow, only the managers and CEO were allowed to drink.
Toxin, watching them enviously, and Eun-ho and Eun-ji, holding skewers of chicken hearts, were having a serious conversation.
“Say ‘anin-ga?’”
“Why?”
“Just say it.”
“Anin-ga?”
“Sounds the same.”
“What, what is it?”
“Ye-chan oppa said standard Seoul dialect is ‘a-nin-ga.’”
“A-nin-ga?”
Like a virus spreading, Eun-ji, just like Eun-ho earlier in their room, started repeating “anin-ga.”
“Whatever. Just live.”
But Eun-ji wasn’t one to dwell on things, so it didn’t last long.
Eun-ho, however, was fixated on it until he fell asleep.