Chapter 36: CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Winner Entertainment was preparing a new artist group called PIPE. This time, there were four members, and Po was responsible for directing their debut music video. He stood watching the new group practice their choreography with Ming and Tae. When the song ended, he told them he’d think of ideas for the video. The younger members thanked him, saying it was sure to turn out great. After all, Po had directed the MV that earned Mars their PAK, leading to their immense success. Thame had even gone to Korea, and they too dreamed of reaching that level.

As Po walked away, he overheard the new group chatting about Mars, admiring their success and saying how unforgettable their final concert would surely be.

Po was no longer involved in that concert, except for submitting the documentary that would be used as the concert opener. He’d sent it in the day before.

—

Po went to buy coffee with Ming and Tae. They discussed ideas for the new MV—how to make certain dance moves stand out and what concept to use.

While waiting in line, Po heard a familiar voice call out his name.

“Po.”

He turned to look, and there he was—Earn.

Po stepped away from his colleagues to talk to Earn privately. He hadn’t expected to see him again and wasn’t even sure what Earn was doing near Winner Entertainment.

“Running errands around here?” Po asked first.

“Yeah,” Earn nodded.

Earn didn’t look much different from the last time they’d met. He was still a successful businessman, and his app, Earnchop, remained one of the top downloads. But one thing had changed: Earn no longer carried the same arrogance or condescension. Instead, he spoke softly, starting with:

“You doing okay?”

Po nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Just fine? That MV you directed was incredible. It got you promoted to director at Winner, right? You’ve come a long way.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wanted to congratulate you.”

“Didn’t you say you were running errands?”

“Okay, fine,” Earn laughed and sat down on a nearby bench. “I came here to see you on purpose. I wanted to apologize—for all the terrible things I did to you. I’m sorry, Po. Really.” Earn lowered his gaze slightly and sipped his coffee. Though he didn’t look Po in the eye, Po could sense his sincerity.

“Actually…” Po leaned back, relaxing slightly. “I think I’ve started to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why you had to be so cruel. Looking back now, I get it—sometimes people just can’t stay together.”

Po glanced at a nearby concert poster featuring Mars.

“To be honest, there was a time I thought that if I ever saw you again, I’d stomp all over you. But now that it’s actually happening… I don’t feel that way anymore.”

“Why not? Because I’m still as handsome as ever?” Earn joked.

“No, it’s not that. Everything that’s happened—it makes me want to thank you, actually. If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t be here now.”

“Well… can’t I at least get some credit? Doesn’t sound like a great story otherwise.”

“You don’t deserve credit for that.”

“Fair enough,” Earn chuckled, making Po laugh a little too.

The two sipped their coffees simultaneously, neither sure how to continue the conversation. It wasn’t awkward, though.

“We’re grown-ups now, huh?” Earn summed up. They sat in silence for a while before Po stood up.

“Well…” Po picked up his bag, ready to leave. “I’ve gotta go. Uncle Choi’s waiting.”

“Wait,” Earn called out before Po could leave. “I’ve got something for you.” Earn handed him a large bag with the Earnchop logo on it. Po frowned.

“What’s this for?”

“You designed the logo, didn’t you? I realized I never gave you anything for it, so here you go. Next time I tell people you did it, I’ll have proof.”

Po stared at him.

“What? Look, this makes us both look good. My company seems prestigious with a logo designed by a famous director, and you get credit for your work.”

“Oh,” Po said, finally piecing it all together.

From the moment Earn had walked into the coffee shop, this hadn’t been just a friendly visit or a genuine apology. It was for this.

“I thought you were here to actually apologize.”

“I am! But… I couldn’t resist. And what I said wasn’t wrong, was it? You did design it.”

“But I remember that back then, when you gave out credit, you never mentioned my name—not even once.”

“Uh…” “If you didn’t give it to me then, I don’t want it now. And you don’t have the right to talk about me anymore.” Po grabbed his bag and walked away.

—

The bell above Uncle Choi’s shop door jingled as Po walked in, looking frustrated. He went straight to the fridge to grab a drink. Uncle Choi, who was sewing a suit, looked up at him.

“What happened?”

“Earn.”

“Oh? Didn’t take long for your ex to come crawling back.”

“Crawling back, my ass. He just wanted to use my name to take credit for his app—even though he never acknowledged me before.”

“Hah! That guy’s a real piece of work,” Uncle Choi said, almost amused.

“So, what’d you say to him?”

“I told him he has no right to talk about me anymore.”

“Good for you.” Uncle Choi smiled knowingly but didn’t say anything else, leaving Po curious.

“What’re you smiling about, Uncle?”

“I’m happy for you. You finally got your revenge, didn’t you? Feels good, right? Making him see how far you’ve come—and stomping on him in the process.”

Po paused. Come to think of it, everything he’d worked for wasn’t just about proving his worth. It wasn’t just about standing on his own two feet.

A part of him had wanted to get back at his awful ex. But now that it had happened… “I don’t feel that good about it.”

“That’s odd. I thought you’d been working toward this all along.”

“Me too,” Po admitted. “But now that I’ve got the job I wanted, now that I can stand on my own—no more worrying about one or two sandwiches, no more struggling—now that everyone praises me for ‘winning’… I don’t feel like I’ve won anything at all.”

Uncle Choi put down his scissors and picked up a piece of chalk to mark some fabric.

“Have you ever just sat down quietly and asked yourself why?”

“I’ve thought about it—watching you, Uncle.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I envy you. You’ve been doing the job you dreamed of since you were young. You don’t get bored, and you don’t care what anyone thinks about how you live your life.”

Uncle Choi put everything down and looked at Po seriously.

“Well, let me tell you something.”

“What?”

“This isn’t the job I dreamed of.”

Po blinked, confused.

“I just didn’t know what else to do for a living, so I did the work I could.”

“Then what was your dream job, Uncle?”

“I didn’t have one. Still don’t,” he replied casually, as if it didn’t bother him at all.

“People say you’re supposed to have dreams, but here I am at sixty, still alive and kicking without one.” Uncle Choi grinned. “You keep talking about what others say is good, what others think you should be, what your ex said you needed to be. But what about you? What do you want to tell yourself?”

Po stood there silently, unable to answer. He realized he had never asked himself that question before.

The shop bell rang again. A customer had arrived.

“Here to pick up your suit? I’ve finished the adjustments—here it is,” Uncle Choi said, handing it over. “Try it on, and let me know if anything else needs fixing.”

“No need to try it on, Uncle. I just needed it taken in five centimeters. Sorry about all the back and forth—my weight keeps fluctuating.”

“No worries at all.”

“Shame, though. You don’t see shops like this much anymore. Off-the-rack suits just don’t work for me.”

“That’s why we have tailor-made suits,” Uncle Choi replied.

Po watched the exchange. Even though Uncle Choi wasn’t looking at him, Po felt like he was saying something important.

—

The door to Po’s condo opened, and he walked in, still lost in thought. He couldn’t shake the strange feelings swirling inside him—the kind of joy that wasn’t really joyful, the kind of emptiness that wasn’t truly hollow. He didn’t know which was better—to feel nothing or to feel this way.

Sometimes, he thought, pain reminded him he was still human.

His room was devoid of anything belonging to anyone else. Just Po, Po, and Po. Like how there was only one sandwich now, only one toothbrush, and all the unfinished work belonged to one person.

Po sat down, sighed, and tried not to think about anything. He pulled out his computer to check on his work—a new MV for PIPE. But he didn’t have any good reference photos.

He decided to use things around his room as props. He grabbed clothes and items from various boxes, arranging them to take pictures. As he opened one particular box, he froze.

Inside were some of Thame’s belongings: a mug with his name, some clothes, and a jacket. Po took out the jacket.

It was the one Thame had given him after their PAK win, right before Po met with Pemika—the same Pemika who had told him he needed to break up with Thame to “clean up” his image before sending him to Korea. It was the jacket Thame had handed him, saying:

“It’s a bit cold tonight, and I can’t hug you. So, if you want a hug, just snuggle into this.”

Po put on the jacket and did as Thame had suggested. He paused, noticing something inside. Slowly, he pulled it out—a letter, written in Thame’s handwriting. Po scanned the letter and opened it.

The first words read:

“Phi Po…”

TO BE CONTINUED.