Do Hae-shin was my friend since childhood. Having never received love from our parents, we naturally came to rely on each other and started dating. In the past, Hae-shin was frail, much shorter than me, and had no muscle to speak of.

The one-room semi-basement house where Hae-shin and I used to live was deep in a shantytown on a very steep hill. It was so shabby that deliveries couldn't even reach it, and it consisted of only one room and a bathroom. It was so worn out that hot water didn't even run, and bugs were a constant presence.

One day, while surviving on a single loaf of bread, I told him it was over.

If it weren't for you, my life wouldn't have been ruined like this.

I'm sick of every single day with you.

I can only live well if you're gone.

I can only breathe if you're not here.

I poured out harsh words that could never be taken back.

I believed that only by doing so would you leave me, succeed, and live happily.

10 years later, now twenty-nine, we met again as creditor and debtor.

The sound of shoe heels echoed rhythmically down the narrow, dark hallway. The sound echoing in the empty corridor was strangely familiar. Once, just hearing that sound brought relief, but now it remained as a memory so unpleasant it felt suffocating.

A shadow stopped for a moment and looked down through the iron bars. The sound of a metal key scraping the lock dragged on, and the rusted iron door opened with a heavy thud. Cold air swept into the room, pushing out the damp smell of mold. Through the gap, the scent of cheap perfume mixed with strong cigarette smoke seeped in.

Walking slowly inside, he tapped the floor with the tip of his shoe as he looked around. The dust-covered floor, the old bed, the cracks and stains on the walls. And Guest, looking more wretched than all of it combined.