I burst out laughing, much to my own embarrassment. I laughed until my belly ached, until realizing it had been a long time since I’d laughed so hard. If ever . . . When was the last time?

—Is it something funny?

—No, it’s just . . .

Jeok-pye-cheong-san. “Get rid of old, evil practices.” I didn’t know how to explain it in English, so I fell silent. An awkward pause.

Habibi looked as if he were thinking something over before asking me another question.

—Do you want to go to Bangkok together?

◊

The room I had booked with Gyu-ho had been a king.

The Park Hyatt at the time was in the last stages of remodeling and not all of the facilities were operational when we got there. Needless to say, there weren’t many people staying. Gyu-ho invariably got into a panic when it came to making choices, which is why I ended up choosing our flights, hotel, and even the length of our stay. Of the 1.58 million-won hotel bill, I paid 780,000 won and Gyu-ho 800,000. It was a splurge. I knew I was burning money when I confirmed the reservation, but I adamantly believed it was worth the sacrifice. We were desperate for rest and relaxation.

As soon as we got to the twenty-first floor, we tossed our backpacks on the floor and fell side by side onto the bed, our shoes still on. Gyu-ho stretched out an arm and gently rubbed out the frown between my eyes with his hand, and I stuck out my tongue to lick it. His unwashed hand had a hint of salt. Lying on the bed, we stared out the windows that surrounded us. There was a clear view of the grounds of someone’s grand house below, so grand and well kept that it looked more like a theme park than someone’s house. After staring at it for ages, I was desperate for a quick nap and so took off my shoes and clothes. Gyu-ho dug his nose into my chest, and I could smell a familiar scent in his hair. I probably smelled the same way. I pressed the button for the curtains to close. The light slowly dimmed. About to close my eyes, I noticed that the curtains hadn’t closed completely, and light was streaming through about a palm’s width of space.

—You have got to be kidding me.

—Let’s just sleep.

—No, look. The curtain won’t close completely.

—Sleep, damn it.

—How can you sleep with this light streaming in?