The theater was bustling. It wasn’t packed, but middle and high school students were bustling about to celebrate the start of the school year. Honestly, crowded places like this aren’t really my thing.
Theaters aim to be cozy retreats, cool in the summer and warm in the winter as a business tactic. So, with the schools having reopened after winter break but the weather still too cold to wander around comfortably, this theater was the perfect place for people like that. Unfortunately, the timing wasn’t great. Theaters will always have busy times, but there was still no hiding my dissatisfaction. Libraries are always a pleasant choice regardless of the season, so why aren’t these people headed there instead of making theaters crowded for no reason?
Furrowing my brow as I looked around, Doyugeon was leaning forward, peering in my direction before asking.
“Why?”
“There are too many people, for no reason. Give me the ticket.”
“I wonder what it is.”
“I don’t know either.”
Alright. Now it’s my turn to be dumbfounded.
“It’s a movie someone else picked, so the likelihood it won’t suit my taste is higher. If we switch movies, the probability of finding something I’ll like increases.”
“Ooh, that sounds logical.”
Saying it was logical, Doyugeon didn’t head to the counter to request a refund but instead walked towards the area with the movie advertisements. Don’t actions contradict words? Then, was it about selecting another movie and refunding this one? That must be it.
Doyugeon pulled out the advertisement for the movie that Yumina had reserved and unfolded it. I moved closer to look at it too, but due to the height difference, our eye levels didn’t align. I stood on tiptoe, but it still didn’t help. This is ridiculous. While my pride struggles, I debated whether to ask for the advertisement to be lowered to a height suitable for me or to just grab another one and watch something else. Sensing my predicament, Doyugeon quickly noticed.
“Ah, sorry.”
The advertisement in Doyugeon’s hands was lowered to my eye level. Pride hurts. Is this a genetic issue? No, not really. Both my parents have good genes. No, it’s not about that. We shouldn’t even be thinking about it now. The growth plates haven’t closed yet, so opportunities abound. Besides, comparing heights is really juvenile. And these days, kids grow tall due to better infrastructure and almost excessive nutrition, comparing them with myself is ridiculous. Hmm…? Something seems off about the premise, though. Am I imagining things?
After considering these minor issues, I set them aside and focused on the advertisement. As expected, Yumina had selected a romance film. What was unexpected, though, was that it was about adultery. The married protagonist cheats and lies to his lover about being unmarried while trying to juggle alibis between his lover and his actual spouse. It’s more than just romance—it’s a thriller.
Who picks this kind of movie for a date? This definitely seems like the ultimate bad choice. Somehow, I could imagine Yumina’s attitude, telling me, “No matter how much effort you put into choosing, you’ll change it anyway, so why not eat this?” But I was probably overthinking. Perhaps, she originally intended to watch this and was complimenting me not to doubt her? Whether Yumina is timid or bold, I’m not entirely sure.
Doyugeon slapped the advertisement shut.
“Let’s watch something else.”
“Yeah, good call.”
The next option was a family comedy. It’s about a childless couple who doesn’t communicate much but receives a child from relatives one day. The plot feels predictable. As the cold-hearted couple takes care of the child, they gradually grow closer, resolve their misunderstandings, and through temporary cooperation, they eventually reach a long-term understanding. The ending likely involves the couple, who overcame hardships, finally realizing their feelings for each other, resolving a significant misunderstanding, and planning for the family they want to have. It seems clichéd yet familiar.
“It looks like a tearjerker.”
“Isn’t that too definitive?”
“I’m not being definitive, just making a logical deduction based on market trends. Investors lean toward sentimental works rather than masterpieces without sentiment. It’s easier to reach break-even with the latter. So, it’s a safety measure against high-risk investments in the movie industry.”
While Doyugeon didn’t seem to fully agree, he wasn’t particularly interested in the comedy, so after scanning it briefly, he put the advertisement back and pulled another one out.
“Horror movie?”
Just casually saying that, but the guy cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. Hmm.
Showing a horror film during winter isn’t unusual. Despite horror being a universally popular genre, it’s still relatively niche in terms of box office success, meaning the films are often passion projects for the directors, and it’s a genre that’s rarely dull. Still, there are flops.
“What do you call a horror movie released in the winter? A failure? A niche market exploitation?”
“Strictly speaking, it’s spring now.”
“Don’t fixate on that.”
The plot is about a YouTuber who moves to a new home, shoots and edits vlogs nearby, and gradually realizes there’s something suspicious about the next-door neighbor. It’s simple enough. Around the halfway mark, finding strands of hair from neighbors they’ve never met somewhere in their home would be appropriate.
The next advertisement was well-known. Wow, superhero flick. Hollywood.
“That’s the safest bet. Let’s watch this one.”
“This one? Oh…”
Apparently, he’d already watched it with someone else.
That’s why you shouldn’t go to the movies with someone with too many friends. That way, they’ve always seen the most fun options beforehand.
“I’ll go refund this first. There’s time before the show, but it feels impolite to keep holding the reserved slot like that.”
Too much consideration.
“Alright then.”
“He’s choosing.”
“Mm.”
What to watch? Family comedy is old-fashioned, so let’s pass on that. Is a thriller about adultery too mature for Doyugeon? Wait, how on earth did Yumina end up reserving this one? Aren’t they too young to watch that? On second thought, is it really that edgy? Probably not.
Looking at the movie advertisement again, it’s rated for ages 15 and up. It’s not an 18+ movie, but since you have to be in at least third year of middle school to watch it and Yumina’s birthday hasn’t passed yet… It’s understandable that my head is filled with question marks. Yumina drinks alcohol, so falsifying an age isn’t that much of a stretch. With someone aspiring to be a judge behaving this way, it’s worrying for the nation’s future. Oh, right, she didn’t end up choosing a legal career, did she? It’s deeply troubling that Yumina abandoned her dreams like that.
“Refunded.”
“Didn’t the staff say anything?”
“What? Nothing unusual, just refunded it. Was there something wrong with the ticket?”
“Not at all.”
Is the age check really that loose? It does make sense, checking every ticket might get tedious. For 15-and 12-year-olds, there’s not much difference anyway.
“You pick one?”
“Not yet. I was lost in thought. Do you have anything in mind?”
Doyugeon hesitated before pointing to the horror movie. Why hesitate?
Ah.
“Are you scared of horror movies?”
“Who? Me?”
Reacting as if it’s an alien concept. Haha, someone got hit.
“Would I be scared? Rather, I bet the young lady here might find it scary.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re just flustered. Who was the one holding my hand during the field trip?”
I recalled how he latched onto me during the somewhat scary Halloween-themed park.
Doyugeon turned red and was quite flustered.
“That was ages ago!”
“Was it? It was elementary school, wasn’t it? It wasn’t that long ago.”
I wish those times would come back. Time flows aimlessly.
While he was insisting it happened “ages ago,” he then realized the current situation was just as embarrassing and changed the subject, quickly going to buy the tickets. Another embarrassing memory updated.
While he was booking, I placed an order for snacks—two colas and a popcorn. As the staff worked the machine, popcorn dropped into the container. Now, how to bring this up naturally with Yumina—did she really kiss someone?
No matter how I think about it, I can’t find a way to bring it up casually. If we were the kind of friends who discussed love life, I would have just thrown it out, but we usually don’t talk about such topics. Dead end.
I was about to call Yumina and ask, when I saw she’d sent me a KakaoTalk message. I hadn’t noticed since I’d muted the phone to avoid interrupting her investigation.
Unmuting my phone, I checked her message. It included reviews for currently showing movies, analyzing which might suit my preferences. It didn’t seem like copied content from some blog but something Yumina herself watched and reviewed.
I sent a reply.
—We already chose, you liar.
While juggling the two colas and the popcorn, I suddenly realized my hands were too small to carry everything just as Yumina replied.
—Didn’t you see my Kakao before making a choice? Then it’s decided between the two of you. Romantic, isn’t it?
What nonsense. I put my phone away.
Rather, how should I carry all this? Ah, right. I can cradle the popcorn with my arm and hold the two colas in each hand. Just as I felt content with this plan, Doyugeon approached and promptly took the colas and popcorn from me. Why didn’t he grab it sooner when I needed it? He always comes in after it feels great.
We took our seats and had a brief chat before heading into the actual movie. We chose a couple’s seat. Couple’s seats are quite comfortable and cozy, allowing for some quiet conversations.
As we sat and munched on popcorn, the movie began: the opening scene showed the main character, a YouTuber, unpacking in his new home. The film then continued, showing the protagonist’s everyday life alongside an unsettling portrayal of the neighborhood environment. Eventually, the protagonist heard strange noises from the wall and approached the next-door neighbor by knocking on their door, discovering that it was unlocked. Hmm? For the timing of the movie, isn’t it too soon for events to begin unraveling? Is it a foreshadowing or atmosphere-building scene?
The director did an excellent job with atmosphere creation, so I glanced at Doyugeon. Our eyes met. He is not watching the movie. That means he looked away when it got scary.
“Are you scared?”
Whispering, I asked, and after hesitating for a moment, he shyly admitted.
“…a little.”
Ah, you’re scared. You suffered unnecessarily by putting up that front before.
“Should I distract you with another conversation?”
“Yeah, and can you hold my hand?”
“Of course.”
Our hands interlocked. Warm. That’s the good thing about winter. Hmm, what should we talk about? A meta-topic might work.
“What do you think is the standard for separating great horror films from so-so ones?”
“Box office success?”
“That’s true, but the criterion I’m referring to takes a different approach. First, we need to understand where our fear comes from. Fear stems from what we inherently find scary and what we learn to fear. Masterpieces generally handle the learned fears well.”
He gently leaned in closer. Heavier.
“Learned fears come from our experiences, culture, prejudices, hatreds, and beliefs. For example, the West fears demons more than ghosts, whereas in the East, it’s the opposite. Look at the screen.”
The protagonist enters the neighbor’s house and finds blood drops, alarming and quickly fleeing.
“Maybe the neighbor was sewing and bled, but they’re scared and running away, despite illegally entering the room. Why? It’s because they see their neighbor as strange, uncertain, and unknowable. They don’t communicate or befriend their neighbor. The fact that we find this scene scary suggests we also view our neighbors suspiciously. A well-crafted horror film captures subtle fears and makes us feel them vividly. It helps us directly confront our fears and what creates them, assisting in making the world less scary. Wait, you’re not listening, are you?”
Looking back at the screen, Doyugeon was only focused on me.
“I’m listening carefully. It’s just too scary to watch the movie.”
I lacked some consideration.
“Should we just leave?”
“No, it’s comfortable here. If I don’t watch, I won’t be scared.”
“Then, to shake things up, I’ll talk about a completely different topic. What do you think about mint chocolate?”
“Good topic.”
In the end, we chatted all through the movie and didn’t watch much. The film’s conclusion turned out to be a misunderstanding; the neighbors seemed scary just because of the atmosphere, but it turned out the next-door neighbor was a real murderer, arrested by the police.
As we stepped out from the theater, it was chilly. I chatted a lot but never got to ask about the kiss. Should I just let it go and interrogate Yumina tomorrow at school? That seems like the better option.
Feeling the cold air, I walked down the stairs when Doyugeon spoke.
“Yumina has a message to pass on.”
“Really?”
“She says that if anything had happened that we should not worry.”
Eeeeeeeng. Of course! That was expected. Naturally, I played along.
But it’s still annoying, so let’s hold Doyugeon not delivering that message against her and interrogate her tomorrow.
While pondering how to throw Yumina off balance, Doyugeon laughed beside me.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I’m just in a good mood.”
“Thinking about dinner already?”
“Yeah.”
—