Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Side Story 10. Spread your wings and fly far away

At the entrance to the dilapidated theater, an incongruous, unexplained commotion erupted.“I want to see my son’s face! Get out of the way!”

“Go away! I told you to leave!”

“I’m calling the police!”

Lee Soo-hyun was wearing an expression he’d never seen before.

Confusion, surprise, and fear and dread he couldn’t quite contain. Kang Chang-woo felt a chill run down his spine at Lee Soo-hyun’s reaction, more so than the man causing trouble at the entrance.

“Hey, you stay inside.”

Kang Chang-woo hurried Lee Soo-hyun inside. Lee Soo-hyun didn’t even think about shaking him off, just letting Kang Chang-woo pull him away.

“Hey! Soo-hyun! It’s your father! Lee Soo-hyun!”

Even then, Lee Soo-hyun’s gaze remained fixed on his father, who was shouting. Kang Chang-woo couldn’t even fathom what Lee Soo-hyun was thinking at that moment.

“Are you okay?”

A few days later, when the image had faded from everyone’s memory, Kang Chang-woo finally managed to ask Lee Soo-hyun that question. It was after practice, when they were alone together cleaning up.

“What?”

His face seemed more composed, almost natural, and Kang Chang-woo let out a deep sigh.

“What do you think I’m talking about? You punk.”

“If it’s about my father, it’s fine. I’m a little annoyed that he’s caused trouble, though.”

Lee Soo-hyun answered indifferently.

“He’s the father I’ve dealt with all my life. He seems to have suddenly found himself in need of something. Don’t worry about it. I’ll apologize to everyone else later for the inconvenience.”

“…You’re really…”

Lee Soo-hyun spoke nonchalantly, but Kang Chang-woo felt like he was going crazy because of him.

“Hey. I’m worried about you right now. Why does it matter if it was inconvenient or not?”

“I said I’m fine, so why are you making a fuss?”

“You always say you’re fine even when you’re not.”

“If you know, just keep quiet. I’m already going to explode with frustration.”

Lee Soo-hyun glanced at Kang Chang-woo and carelessly placed the large boxes down.

.

With the heavy sound, Lee Soo-hyun perched roughly on the props as best he could

“…I don’t know. I’ve seen the worst of it, so he probably won’t come back again. Don’t worry too much either.”

Despite saying that, his exhaustion was apparent in the daytime. It wouldn’t have been noticeable during practice.

Lee Soo-hyun let slip a single, sly remark, and a wry smile formed on his lips. After a brief pause, he joked.

“If you feel bad for me, buy me a drink.”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier, you punk?”

Only then did Kang Chang-woo finally relax.

That evening, the two drank until late. They ended up in the theater’s waiting room, passed out, and then returned to their conversation in the morning.

In truth, Kang Chang-woo knew full well.

A single drink wasn’t enough to dilute the wound.

But allowing him to be that close was as far as Lee Soo-hyun would let him go, and he had to be satisfied with that.

‘It’s always been like that.’

Even when he received a casting offer, and even when he had to live in the theater for a while because he couldn’t pay rent, Lee Soo-hyun had never once asked for help.

In fact, even that drinking session was more for himself, desperate to comfort Lee Soo-hyun than for Lee Soo-hyun.

Kang Chang-woo had also learned that not long after that incident, Lee Soo-hyun’s father had passed away.

It was the truth he had barely managed to find out after rushing over following Lee Soo-hyun’s accident.

“That damn bastard.”

He left without letting anyone get close, taking with him the stage he loved so much.

“Are you feeling better these days?”

Kim Hye-in cautiously asked Kang Chang-woo.

She was a former theater colleague he had met at a cafe after a long time. Kang Chang-woo paused for a moment, then feigned indifference.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m fine.”

“You’ve had a hard time, haven’t you? It’s natural, since you were Soo-hyun’s closest friend.”

“That damn bastard.”

A bitter smile crept across Kang Chang-woo’s face.

Today marked the one-year anniversary of Lee Soo-hyun’s death. So, he decided to meet Kim Hye-in, whom he hadn’t heard from in a long time, to catch up briefly.

Kang Chang-woo muttered, his voice rising.

“It’s already been a year… it doesn’t feel real.”

“You still look a little off. You’re eating properly, right?

The other kids were worried.”

Kang Chang-woo dismissed Kim Hye-in’s nagging with an awkward laugh.

“I guess the other kids are doing well too. I barely contact them… I guess…”

He lowered his gaze to the coffee in front of him.

“Well, how should I put it? Honestly, it still feels like a dream.”

His anguish was clearly evident in his fingers caressing the smooth cup.

“…It feels like time has stopped.”

That was Kang Chang-woo’s honest thought.

After Lee Soo-hyun died, they could no longer maintain the theater.

Those who had shared their dreams in the old theater scattered.

Kang Chang-woo, too, succumbed to his parents’ nagging and found a stable job.

But even now, Kang Chang-woo was still plagued by delusions.

“When I open the theater door, I feel like he’s still dozing off in the waiting room.”

“With a face worn down from his part-time job?”

Kim Hye-in jokingly asked, and Kang Chang-woo smiled and nodded.

“Or maybe he was eating cup ramen again. Or maybe he was poring over a classic play script…?”

“Right… That’s right.”

Kim Hye-in muttered, as if in a dream.

Lee Soo-hyun was always present in the old theater.

Lee Soo-hyun seemed to spend more time there than at home, simply because it was so much more comfortable than his one-room apartment.

But they knew better than anyone that even that action was ultimately rooted in affection.

‘Does he blame me?’

Kang Chang-woo, who had been silent for a moment, spoke up.

“If I hadn’t left him alone, maybe he wouldn’t have died.”

“Eh. Who’s he to be resentful?”

Kim Hye-in rested her chin on her hand and spoke with deliberate sarcasm.

“He seemed prickly, yet he was a Buddha. He just kept his mouth shut and endured everything.”

He always grumbled about it, but even that was just for show.

Soo-hyun had a bad habit of easily blending in with people around him, yet secretly keeping his distance.

“In the end, he couldn’t shake his bad habit… so he ended up leaving alone.”

Kang Chang-woo muttered to himself, looking down at his cold coffee.

“That bastard.”

He remembered that day, exactly a year ago, standing vigil at Soo-hyun’s wake.

Soo-hyun, who had no family or relatives, was labeled “unclaimed” after his death. It was the people at the theater who had set up a wake and held a small, if humble, funeral for Lee Soo-hyun.

No one else came.

“I should have just pretended not to know, at least meddled more.”

“What’s the point of thinking about it now? You did your best. And so did I.”

Kim Hye-in said, casting her gaze out the window.

“And he wasn’t alone either. He had a nosy person like you by his side.”

“Huh?”

Kim Hye-in turned to face Kang Chang-woo’s dumbfounded voice.

“You know it too. Soo-hyun actually liked people quite a lot. He didn’t stop people from approaching or leaving. That was his way.”

Kang Chang-woo blinked blankly. Meeting his gaze, Kim Hye-in spoke clearly.

“You stayed by his side until the very end. I think that’s enough. Soo-hyun would have been satisfied with that, too.”

“But…”

“You know it’s rude of you to keep doing that, don’t you?”

Kang Chang-woo tried to protest, but Kim Hye-in glared at him.

“We were there for him. He was there for us. That’s why he wasn’t lonely.”

“How do you know that?”

Kang Chang-woo, feeling a bit stubborn, asked bluntly. A look of blatant disapproval was returned.

“Do you even remember? Soo-hyun laughed more than you’d think.”

Kang Chang-woo was speechless for a moment.

“He stumbled when drunk, but in front of you, he did it more often than anyone else. At least, he felt comfortable with you… and with us too.”

“…I see.”

“When you keep acting like this, it’s like ignoring the heart he gave you. Was he ever truly alone when he left?”

Kim Hye-in continued her rebuke. While they pooled their money to hold a small funeral, not a single member of the theater troupe left early.

As if they all thought it was their duty.

“Remember the good things too, so he can leave with peace of mind.”

“You can’t keep him trapped in that old theater forever.”

Kim Hye-in’s tone had already shifted to one of soothing solace.

Listening intently to her voice, Kang Chang-woo quietly lowered his gaze.

After parting ways with Kim Hye-in and leaving the cafe, Kang Chang-woo walked aimlessly, without a destination in mind.

The weather was unusually clear. The kind of sky that would make Lee Soo-hyun complain about the strong sunlight…

It seemed strangely similar to the light that had taken his life.

“The good things.”

He could still see it vividly.

“That guy on stage was always cool.”

His confident fingers extended out on stage, his voice resonating with unusual clarity. His performance that captivated audiences, and his face that smiled brightly backstage.

The moment Lee Soo-hyun stepped onto the small, worn stage, a new world unfolded.

Under the spotlight, Lee Soo-hyun was always chillingly charming.

From sweet love stories to tragic adventures to comical clown antics.

Nothing was impossible for Lee Soo-hyun on stage.

Walking aimlessly, Kang Chang-woo realized he had reached the alley where the theater once stood.

There was no trace of the old place.

The small entrance to the underground theater was filled with neon signs of every kind.

The old theater was gone, replaced by dazzling lights and restaurants.

It wasn’t his first time seeing it, but somehow, Kang Chang-woo felt as if every ounce of strength had been drained from his body.

“It sounds crazy… but…”

If it were possible, he wished he could have seen Soo-hyun perform one more time.

But Lee Soo-hyun was no longer of this world.

Even the place where he could remember him was gone.

Staring blankly at the glittering lights, Kang Chang-woo whispered to himself.

“…Every stage can be yours.”

Even the worn-out theater wouldn’t have been enough for him. Then it would be right for him to let him go. As Kim Hye-in had said, he couldn’t keep Lee Soo-hyun tied to a theater that no longer existed.

“So spread your wings and fly far away.”

Don’t hold onto regrets, don’t look back.

“I’ll live my life too.”

The journey was a burden that only oneself could bear.

His clear wisdom dissipated from his unheard monologue.

Kang Chang-woo turned and stood at the site of the old theater. After a moment of hesitation, he finally took a step forward.

One step, and then another.

And so, Kang Chang-woo was the last to leave the theater.