Black Label [EN]: Chapter 2

Black Label 1

2. Rewind (2)

Looking back, I really lived tenaciously.

Barely out of high school, I got a job at a small shop in the Dongdaemun [a large commercial district in Seoul, South Korea] clothing town.

I couldn’t afford to go to university.

I worked 14 hours a day. My salary was only around a million won [approximately $750 USD], but I was grateful to be working in the clothing industry.

I spent my sleeping hours working on the sewing machine and studying design.

When I got paid, I sent some money home, and with the rest, I bought fashion magazines and books.

The boss must have been a good person. He tried to give Jaeseung opportunities.

The boss often gave Jaeseung the chance to display the clothes he made himself in the corner of the store.

He even let Jaeseung keep all the money he made from selling the clothes he made himself.

Money aside, the joy of a customer buying clothes that he made himself was beyond words.

No matter how I think about it, that time was definitely a difficult time. It was really hard. It was really hard, but it seems like I was strangely happy.

I think it was because I was a little naive.

If I live this hard, I’ll be able to become a designer someday. I’ll launch my own brand, hold a show, and after the 멋진 [wonderful/stylish] models’ runway, I’ll be able to go up on stage myself and give thanks….

Tick-tock– Tick-tock-

Only the sound of the ticking clock echoed emptily in the spacious studio for a moment.

“Ugh-.”

Jaeseung, who had fallen asleep in the studio attic, woke up with a groan. His head was pounding, and his stomach was burning as if someone was squeezing it tightly.

Jaeseung narrowed his eyes as much as possible and looked at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t even check the time unless he glared at it.

AM 5:20

It was an ambiguous time to fall back asleep or shake off the sleepiness and get up.

Jaeseung moved as if waiting and opened the small refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.

Jaeseung immediately drank the water. It went in endlessly, as if there was a water tank installed at the end of his esophagus.

“Haa-.”

After quenching his thirst with cold water, he felt like he was sobering up a bit.

Looking around, CEO Song was snoring loudly. CEO Song’s face, illuminated by the refrigerator light, looked pathetic for no reason.

Looking back, CEO Song is much older than when I first saw him.

Jaeseung, with a faint smile, pulled the blanket that was lying around CEO Song’s waist up to his chest.

He tries to look like a businessman, but he’s definitely not someone who can make a lot of money.

He has too much affection. Even the offer he made to me at the drinking party yesterday was like that.

* * *

“Jaeseung. Then let’s do this. I’ll provide the funds, so make a sample.”

“What sample?”

“I know you’ve been scribbling in a design book whenever you have time. Let’s make that.”

The ‘design book’ that CEO Song was talking about referred to Jaeseung’s well-worn notebook.

“You’re asking me to make sample versions of the designs in there? Why?”

“As you know, I have a tight grip on the Dongdaemun production line. I’ll meet with the owners I know and show them the samples, and I’ll do as much as I can… Let’s just try it.”

“Are you trying to leave a few masterpieces behind?”

“Anyway, you’ve become twisted….”

CEO Song, who had blurred the end of his words, began to look at Jaeseung with eyes full of guilt. He was clearly regretting it.

He regretted offering Jaeseung to manufacture imitations. He regretted dragging himself, who had been living so hard, into the shadows. He seemed to be thoroughly regretting it.

“I may not be able to fulfill Jaeseung’s original dream, but I can at least bring the designs he’s drawn to the world. I’ve been eating jjambap [a common Korean-Chinese noodle dish] in Dongdaemun….”

“So, what happens after the clothes come out?”

“I’ll supply them to all the small shops in the Dongdaemun clothing town and display them. It won’t make as much money as a knockoff, but… it’s a meaningful thing in itself. Isn’t it?”

At the end of CEO Song’s question, silence swept through the room again. Jaeseung was lost in thought for a moment.

Seeing the clothes he had designed himself displayed before he lost his sight. It’s definitely a meaningful thing.

His clothes are displayed in a clothing store. Customers are interested in the clothes and eventually buy them. It’s something that could be the ultimate goal for someone.

Also, Dongdaemun has quite a few famous clothing areas, including ‘Doota’ and ‘Millennium’.

It feels like a front yard to CEO Song and Jaeseung, but it could be a dream place for someone. It’s definitely an attractive offer.

But.

“No.”

“What? Why?”

Jaeseung rejected CEO Song’s offer outright.

What if the production line owners who receive his design samples refuse to produce them? So, what if he can’t start the production stage?

CEO Song alone would have to bear all the considerable expenses that have already been incurred. It’s too big of a risk to take on because of a ridiculous sense of guilt.

“CEO.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“What? What do you mean….”

“It’s all my fault that I ended up like this.”

Jaeseung, who answered in an infinitely serious voice, took a few more sips of soju [Korean distilled rice liquor] and then drove a wedge again.

“It’s not your fault.”

* * *

Jaeseung, who had been staring blankly at CEO Song, who was fast asleep, got up from his seat.

He shook his head a few times as if to shake off the 잡념 [miscellaneous thoughts/worries] that were rummaging through his head, and then started walking towards his workbench.

The rate at which his eyesight is deteriorating is getting faster and faster. He couldn’t see well, so he crawled, slowly touching his hands everywhere and moving slowly.

“Haa-.”

He let out a rough breath and took out another cigarette. Just like he said to CEO Song in the middle of the night.

It’s not CEO Song’s fault. It’s true that he encouraged him to make imitations, but Jaeseung himself made the choice.

He had several opportunities to get out. But he didn’t get out. He was intoxicated by the taste and smell of money and didn’t think about coming back.

Only after realizing that he could never go back to square one. Also, only after realizing that he didn’t have much time left to make clothes, he began to regret it.

He began to look at the hazy smoke he was exhaling with hazy eyes. Suddenly, all sorts of 망상 [delusions/fantasies] began to come to mind one after another.

If I hadn’t set foot in this industry.

What kind of life would I be living?

Jaeseung shook his head and turned on the incandescent light bulb installed above the workbench.

It was installed so close that ordinary people wouldn’t be able to open their eyes properly.

This was because he had become so unable to even identify the fabric placed on the workbench unless he put the light bulb so close that it almost touched his forehead.

‘…Let’s work.’

Jaeseung, who had quietly muttered to himself, put his foot on the sewing machine pedal.

Ziiiiiiiiing-!

First of all, I have to make it. If I don’t do something, I might really go crazy.

To stay alive until my eyes die. Whether it’s a knockoff or a rag. I just have to make something.

Before long, the sound of CEO Song snoring loudly and the roar of the sewing machine began to mix in the air. It was a surprisingly harmonious noise. Jaeseung let go of everything for a moment and began to concentrate on his work. A clear different color settled on Jaeseung’s eyes.

* * *

CEO Song, who had been sleeping without paying attention to the roar of the sewing machine, woke up around noon.

Around the time when the sunlight began to penetrate through the small window in one wall of the studio. CEO Song groaned and opened his eyes.

“Ugh-.”

As soon as he woke up, CEO Song called a nearby 백반 [Korean set meal] restaurant and ordered two servings of 제육백반 [spicy pork set meal].

By the time he had smoked several cigarettes to the filter, the 제육백반 [spicy pork set meal] he had ordered had arrived.

“Jaeseung. Let’s eat and work.”

He’s a fast person. He was occupying the attic even after receiving a considerable amount of 폭언 [violent language/abuse] and harsh words the night before.

No, he said he was going to eat and leave, so there’s no disagreement that he’s a good person.

“CEO.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For saying harsh things yesterday….”

“It’s okay. If you’re sorry, come and unpack it with me.”

A few kinds of 쌈 야채 [vegetables for wrapping] with moisture on them, and 제육볶음 [spicy stir-fried pork] that was cooked deliciously. A bowl of rice in a styrofoam container.

As soon as the table was set, the two people picked up their spoons at the same time as if they had made a promise.

“CEO. Leave after you’re done eating. I have to work.”

“I was going to do that anyway. I’m a busy person, too?”

Soon, CEO Song looked at Jaeseung’s face once and asked in a rather indifferent tone.

“Jaeseung. But when did your eyes start doing that?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a while.”

“Is it something like a cataract?”

In CEO Song’s inflectionless tone, I could see the effort to pretend to be indifferent.

A commendable effort not to show pity or sympathy. Jaeseung also took CEO Song’s efforts into consideration and answered in the most indifferent tone possible.

“It’s a complication of diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“My father was a diabetic. I didn’t inherit any inheritance, but I guess I had a disease.”

“Is that so?”

Silence.

Soon, Jaeseung forced a smile and asked.

“CEO. Do blind people get a pension or something?”

“I don’t know?”

“It would be nice if it came out. Right?”

Again, silence.

Jaeseung, who was poking at the rice in his rice bowl with his chopsticks for no reason, thought to himself. In the dozens of years I’ve known this person, has there ever been such an awkward time?

I don’t think there was.

* * *

After the meal, after CEO Song left. Jaeseung immediately returned to his workbench and stepped on the sewing machine pedal. He was very short on time to meet the maximum quantity by the end of the month.

When I’m working alone like this, I tend to fall into useless 망상 [daydreams/fantasies] without even realizing it.

It wasn’t a big 망상 [daydreams/fantasies]. The main ones were 망상 [daydreams/fantasies] in the same context as ‘If I win the lottery, how will I spend it?’ that I don’t even buy.

It’s 허황되고 [groundless/absurd] and unrealizable. But it’s a common 망상 [daydreams/fantasies] that anyone would have at least once. The 망상 [daydreams/fantasies] that Jaeseung has every day is the same.

How nice would it be if I could go back to the past? What if I hadn’t set foot in imitation production?

Could I have launched a brand with my own designs, not someone else’s? Could I really have become a designer? What kind of life would I be living?

While he was concentrating on his work with the 망상 [daydreams/fantasies] that had become tattered thanks to being caressed every day.

Knock knock knock-!

Jaeseung took his foot off the pedal again because of the sound of someone knocking on the iron door.

‘Who is it?’

The only guests who come to the studio are a few 업자 [businessmen/traders], including CEO Song.

There’s no way CEO Song would have come back after less than an hour since he left the studio, and other 업자 [businessmen/traders] who aren’t that close usually call in advance before coming. Soon, a shadow fell over Jaeseung’s face.

‘…Could it be the police?’

The only guests who can visit unexpectedly are the police. Although he is not working on a scale that would put him on the investigation line, making imitations is an illegal act that violates the law. It’s not strange for the police to come barging in at any time.

Soon, Jaeseung got up from his seat and stood in front of the iron door.

Then, he put his eyes, which were not functioning properly, into the peephole.

A blurry figure was visible through the peephole. Soon, a thick voice was heard from beyond the iron door.

“Delivery-!”

Jaeseung still had one eye stuck in the peephole and swallowed the 침 [saliva] that was full in his mouth.