Chapter 57: Dahye’s Answer

“Dahye.”

I slid over and sat down next to Dahye.

The slightly tilted sofa creaked softly.

“Yeah?”

Dahye, who had been spinning the remote with her toes, answered absentmindedly without taking her eyes off the TV.

“What do you think about the word ‘star’?”

I glanced at Dahye’s face, checking her expression as I waited for her answer.

“What are you even saying? Seriously, why are you like this all of a sudden?”

At that moment, Dahye’s toes stopped on top of the remote.

Her head turned, and her eyebrows twitched. The look of disbelief shot straight at my face.

“I was just asking.”

“No, seriously, what’s with the random talk about stars? It’s not like you’re at the age to get married. Did you suddenly get sentimental? Catch a cold watching some drama?”

She replied in a low, sarcastic voice.

Now she crossed her arms and glared at me openly.

“Don’t tell me you’re writing a letter to someone or something?”

“...I’ll cut your allowance.”

Stunned by Dahye’s unexpected attack, I stayed quiet for a moment, then quietly expressed my feelings in another way.

“Wow, not this again? Are you really going to keep pestering me over just that? Adults, honestly...”

“I guess you don’t know because your big brother matured early, but I am still a kid.”

The moment those words left my mouth, Dahye’s eyes changed immediately.

“Ugh, seriously! So annoying!”

She shouted at the top of her lungs, without even a moment’s hesitation.

A high C# in the third octave rattled my eardrums.

“So petty.”

Dahye grabbed a cushion, then dropped it weakly onto the floor.

“Come on. What do you think? If you tell me, I’ll drop it.”

I pretended not to hear, pushing my question further.

“Whew... A star’s just a star, what star? Shooting star, morning star, parting star?”

Euuuugh, gross.

As if she was making up a rhyme, my sister blurted out her answer like a storm, shuddered all over, then covered her mouth with her palm as if to gag.

“......”

Should I really cut her allowance for real?

Maybe give her some time to appreciate the value of a big brother?

All sorts of thoughts swam around in my head.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. I’ll just say it.”

Maybe my dumbfounded stare finally worked, because she agreed to answer the question I wanted.

I was secretly looking forward to what she’d say.

“Love.”

And with that, she spoke a single word.

I stared at my sister for a long moment, wondering what she meant.

“Geez! You told me to say it! There was that old comedy, you know—‘Ask the Stars!!’ And when people confess, they fold up paper stars and give them to their crush. You know that, right? Seriously, old man!”

“Huh?!”

I guess you could interpret it like that.

It was only then I understood my sister’s answer.

“Love, love, love, huh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

I turned the word ‘love’ over in my mind, letting my thoughts about stars continue.

Lovers use that line, too.

‘Can you pluck a star from the sky for me?’

And at those times, guys fall into different types.

─ Sure, I can pluck one for you.

─ I already have a star beside me, so why would I need another one?

─ How am I supposed to pluck a star from that high up? It only looks small from here, it’s actually huge up close. There’s no way.

That sort of variety.

Whatever the case, it’s undeniable that stars and love are deeply connected—a great answer, really.

“As expected from a writer’s sister. Good job. I’ll keep your allowance.”

With a satisfied smile, I decided to leave her allowance alone.

***

I don’t yet know how well all the studying I’ve done will pay off there. But one thing I’m sure of is that I’ll succeed as a writer.

This confidence wasn’t born overnight.

I spent nights awake when everyone else slept, hours researching how to put indescribable feelings into sentences, and kept grinding away at my craft to survive the competition.

Reading, writing, erasing, and writing again—the senses I developed from that endless cycle. I trusted those senses.

With only that trust, I prepared my manuscript, “You Are the Star Inside Me,” and carefully sealed it in an envelope to send to the contest.

“How do you think it’ll go? Think you’ll win?”

I was gazing out the window, waiting for the contest results, when Dae-shik came over and asked about the awards.

“I did everything I could. I’m confident.”

I know all too well that other writers also put themselves through the grind, forging their confidence in the fires of hardship. But none of them can match the weight of my desperation.

If I slip up even a little, I have to live a life more hellish than hell itself.

No writer carries a burden like mine.

That’s why, when it comes to writing, I can’t lose to anyone.

“Wow, I love your confidence. I think you’re going to win too. If you don’t, then something’s seriously wrong. I’ve been right by your side, you know.”

That Dae-shik, he really knows how to say things that move people.

“Thanks. Whatever happens, when the results come out, let’s have a party. Ever since we opened the studio, all we’ve done is work.”

After school, Dae-shik would head straight to comic academy, then come over to the studio and draw comics.

When I finished school, I’d meet Dae-shik at the studio to work, then go home and study the things I thought I lacked.

I slept only three hours a day.

Whenever my body sent warning signals that it couldn’t take it anymore, I’d snatch a nap at lunch or catch an hour or two at the studio.

While other friends were focused on college entrance exams, we devoted all our time to our work.

“And who am I? I’m the all-purpose critic, aren’t I? To look at your writing, I read through all the past award-winning entries. Even compared to those, your work isn’t lacking at all. Honestly, it even had stronger points.”

This is what’s really impressive about Dae-shik. Despite having his own workload, he carved out time to help me and read through all the contest winners.

He wrote his thoughts on Post-it notes and stuck them on every page, then showed them to me and talked through his impressions.

So I never complained about being tired or worn out in front of Dae-shik.

Instead, I always said thank you every day.

【Thinking of all you’ve done for me, this is nothing.】

Dae-shik never let it go to his head—he always kept humble and kept pushing himself forward.

Even if I hadn’t helped him, he was bound to shine someday.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll make sure I win, for your sake too.”

Hearing Dae-shik’s words made me even more confident in my work.

I was sure that a great result was waiting for us.

Why?

Because we’re running harder than anyone else, driven by sheer desperation.

No doubt in my mind.

“Of course. Oh, and tomorrow’s your uncle’s grilled makchang restaurant opening, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. He’s finally opening the makchang place.”

“You’re going, right?”

“Of course! You know I’m a total makchang fiend. I’m gonna eat so much.”

“Heh, I’m looking forward to it. You’re always saying your uncle’s cooking is the best in the universe.”

“No question. Just wait until tomorrow—you’ll be amazed.”

“Okay then, let’s get started on work now.”

We began working again, thinking about my uncle’s makchang restaurant opening in the afternoon.

***

On the day of Uncle’s makchang restaurant opening.

We met in front of the place at 6 p.m., just like we promised.

Dad, for some reason in high spirits, laughed heartily as he walked with Dae-shik’s dad, and Dae-shik and I followed along behind, watching the two of them.

Gojan-dong alley is considered the best commercial district.

This place, the heart of Ansan, is also a street for the young.

Packed with people in their teens and twenties, this area’s nightclubs like Jalienna and Tomato keep the nightlife alive, having a big influence on the bar scene.

Uncle’s makchang place was located not far from the nightclubs—a spot everyone had to pass if they were going out.

Heavy smoke and the aroma of grilled meat filled the alley and drew people in.

Even from a distance, we could see people gathered outside the restaurant.

Inside the glass doors, the place was already packed, with several people waiting outside with number slips.

“Wow, sure it’s opening day, but this is insane.”

Dae-shik said with a look of surprise.

“I thought just a few people heard the rumors, but this is almost a must-visit restaurant, look at the line!”

Dae-shik’s dad chuckled and nodded.

“We’ll have to see how it goes over the next few days. Let’s go in—they’ve saved us a table.”

We opened the glass door and went inside.

The moment the door opened, the scent of grilled meat and savory makchang hit my nose.

Laughter, conversation, the clinking of soju glasses—sounds of people having a good time filled the air.

The restaurant was buzzing with energy and warmth.

“Hey, you made it?”

Uncle popped his head out of the kitchen with a big, happy smile, waving at us.

Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, but his face was brighter than ever.

“That table in the corner! That’s the reserved one.”

We sat down at the table Uncle pointed to.

“Here you go—six servings of makchang.”

As soon as we were seated, Uncle brought over the pre-grilled makchang and placed it on the heated grill.

Ssszz.

The moment the makchang touched the grill, the fat melted and a savory aroma enveloped the table.

The makchang browned on the outside, its edges crisping up, the inside staying chewy and juicy with fat.

“Thanks for the meal, brother.”

Dae-shik’s dad spoke, greeting Uncle.

“No problem. Our makchang is best enjoyed like this. Put a slice of garlic on the makchang, dip it in the special sauce, and it’s the perfect pairing with a drink.”

Even though he was busy, Uncle personally grilled the makchang for us, dipped the garlic in his own sauce, and placed it on top of the meat before handing it over.

“Thank you for the food!”

Dae-shik and I both shouted our thanks and popped Uncle’s makchang into our mouths.

“Wow, this is amazing.”

“It’s really delicious!”

The moment I bit into it, I couldn’t help but exclaim.

Crispy on the outside, the chewy texture and savory fat inside combined with garlic to create an explosion of flavor in my mouth.

This was the kind of taste that made you crave soju.

Sure enough, empty soju bottles were piling up on every table and even the floor.

“This place is really something. It’s hard for makchang to be this tender and chewy.”

“Man, next time I’m bringing Min-jung. She loves gopchang.”

“Boss, can I get some of this to-go?”

People’s reactions were no joke.

Everywhere you looked, people were complimenting the makchang.

At another table, three friends clinked their soju glasses and shouted, ‘This is our new regular spot!’

The more the customers enjoyed themselves, the broader Uncle’s smile became.

“Uncle, you suffered a lot in your past life. But this time, I hope you and Aunt Su-hyun live comfortably, without worrying about money.”

Watching Uncle like that, I whispered words of encouragement quietly—just loud enough for only him to hear.