Semantic Error

“You should rest as well.”

“I have a lot to do.”

“Who doesn’t know that? I’m just telling you to rest.”

“How can I rest when I have so much to do?”

“If you keep talking to me, take a break since you won’t be able to concentrate anyway.”

“In the 1850s, when the trees were so contaminated that they darkened, the population of white pepper moths decreased and black pepper moths flourished.”

“… what are you trying to say?”

“Life has an instinct to adapt to external threats.”

“Ah, I’m a pollutant, and you’re a pitiful moth? Try changing the color of your wings. I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Don’t root for me with your words, but keeping your mouth shut is the most helpful way for me.”

Chu Sangwoo was like a vending machine that only dispensed precise words. Jaeyoung picked up his cell phone while escaping from the argument he’d already lost. He replied to some messages and played music videos of bands he liked. When he was with Yuna or Sungjin, he always played his music aloud, but ever since Sangwoo had come, he hadn’t. Even Yuna had attacked several times at first, but after losing heroically and repeatedly, she sighed and put on her headphones when Sangwoo came in. There was no such thing today since she left early today, though.

A dreamy synthesizer, pounding drum beats, a low-pitched bass, a heart-throbbing electric guitar, and languid vocals. While Jaeyoung was immersed in the music with his eyes closed, he was partly waiting for the sound of “turn the music off.” When he opened his eyes, Sangwoo was still working with his back upright.

“You seem to like this.”

“No, it’s not great.”

“This band’s name is Psy…”

“Psychedel. I know.”

“The title is Ma…”

“Magnetic Field. Fifth Album. Electricity. The 8th track. I know, so please be quiet.”

Jaeyoung was so shocked he dropped his phone. His favorite artist wasn’t very popular in Korea. Nevermind the name of the song, he couldn’t believe that he even knew the album and the track number. He said they weren’t good, but seeing as he knew all the details, he must be an avid listener of theirs. While he was puzzled, the playlist moved on to the next song. This time, it was a fairly unknown domestic indie band.

“It’s Napalsoo’s second album, Bullshit. 12th track. I’m going to fire the manager and devour the company.” Jaeyoung blankly stared at the black ball cap for an entire minute.

‘I can’t believe that Chu Sangwoo has the same taste as me.’

It was hard to believe. Jaeyoung felt nervous as he played the next track.

“Cho Chiwon Band’s first album, Red and Black. Track seven. Red Giant.”

“Wt… Hey. Your tastes are very similar to mine. I got goosebumps.”

“That’s not it at all, so don’t even say things like that.”

He wasn’t fooled by such an offense. If he even knew the track number, how often had he been listening to it? Jaeyoung felt so excited that he kept playing track after track. There wasn’t anything Sangwoo hadn’t heard. Whether it was an overseas or a domestic artist, whichever genre it was, he knew it all. This was way more accurate than an app..

Jaeyoung accidently touched a strange spot while flipping through the tracks, so it started playing a hit song that had been on the top charts for 10 weeks. So far, he had said the name of the title within 10 seconds of the music being played, but this time he was quiet.

“You don’t know this one?”

“How would I know that one?”

These days, if you didn’t know this song, they would call you a spy.1 This was very strange. Jaeyoung once more felt a sense of incompatibility while falling into confusion.

“Sunbae, I’m stuck in the reinforced grenade. Please take another look at the corn after you’ve fixed it. And it has been 15 minutes. Come back to your seat.”

‘I oughta!’

Jaeyoung endured for about five seconds and then stood up. As he forced himself to sit in the chair, Sangwoo glanced at him and then returned his eyes to his laptop.

‘He’s cute but not cute at all.’

Jaeyoung reached out to pinch his cheeks, but belatedly recalled that it was a taboo. Sangwoo was already staring at Jaeyoung’s hand with a frown. Jaeyoung repositioned his hands and clapped them in the air.

“Oh? A mosquito here…”

“It’s April, so what mosquito?”

“There was one here.”

“Look at your palm to see if you caught it.”

“Oh? I missed it.”

Sangwoo began typing again with an unconvinced look. He looked omnipotent as he stared at the monitor filled with a completely unrecognizable language. Jaeyoung couldn’t do anything for a while as he sat with his hands on his chin looking dazedly at Sangwoo.

Footnote:

1. The term ‘spy’ may refer to North Korean spies in South Korea. Being outsiders and rather busy with other matters, spies wouldn’t be listening to the latest music.