Minnesota boy

1. The Boy Who Loved the Moon

For the boy, love was effortless. It was given naturally with a blink of an eye, a nod, or the breath he exhaled. He just had to enjoy it. Because everything loved the boy, the sun would hide behind the clouds if he frowned, and fierce gusts of wind became a gentle breeze for him. The wind, the sun, and even the clouds seemed to exist solely for him. With his tousled brown curls, long eyelashes sparkling in the sunlight when he gently opened his eyes, and freckles settled like snowflakes on his cheeks, how could anyone not love him? Yet, nothing ever truly moved him. Instead, he felt a shiver at the unsolicited praise and affection he received, as if they were disappointments in disguise.

In the pitch-black darkness, the only light was the distant moon. He climbed the hill relentlessly, wanting to get closer to it. The darkness was so complete that he couldn’t tell whether the hill he was climbing was steep or gentle. Chasing the moon seemed like pursuing a mirage, an unattainable dream. The heavy, oppressive feeling in his chest, though fleeting, led him to the top of the hill. There, the moon awaited him, shimmering in a distance that seemed close enough to touch.

Every night, he climbed the hill. The moon shone as white as the eyes reflecting sunlight, and sometimes it emitted a soft, comforting glow as if it had swallowed the sunset. Regardless of its hue, one constant remained: the moon always welcomed him warmly, as if it had been waiting there to comfort him.

For the boy, the climb up the hill was filled with profound grandeur. Even if he went on a space exploration, he could neither feel the moon with his hands nor the ground beneath his feet, nor could he scatter his breaths across the cosmos. No matter how advanced technology became, it would never be possible for humans to fully experience the moon. But on this hill, in the small rural town of Minnesota, he could get close to the moon. Here, 'close enough to touch' was not a poetic expression but a reality. He could breathe the moon, feel the ground beneath his feet, and experience it with all his senses. Embracing the moon and falling into a gentle sleep made the emptiness and pessimism that had persistently followed him vanish as if they had never existed. The moon, providing him with a sense of tranquility he had never felt from family or friends, was his solace.

And then, the boy’s solace disappeared like a lie. No matter how many times he climbed the hill, he never got any closer. Even when he stretched his arms at the top of the hill, the moon remained as unreachable as a star. No matter how many times he ascended and descended the hill, it was the same. Had it all been a dream—sleeping with the moon, embracing it, whispering about his day? It was only after countless confrontations with his inability to reach the moon that he accepted the truth: the moon, which had always consoled him, had returned to being Earth’s satellite.

2. The Moon That Hates Humans

What the Fuck! The first words uttered as a human. Just existing was enough. I could have existed forever like that! But with this inexplicable curse, I became human, and now merely existing wasn’t enough. I had to worry about meals, needed a safe place, and for that, money was necessary. However, hard work didn’t always come with corresponding rewards. If the beginning is meager, the end will never be grand. And that’s not all. There were random comments about my appearance, sexual harassment, and the pressure to smile and be pleasant whenever I stiffened my expression. Just as humans can't distinguish between ants, humans couldn’t distinguish me. They couldn’t tell the difference, and even if some were a bit more attractive, I was still just an ant. When judged by a bunch of identical acorns, I felt like I had joined the ant army.

Games have hidden "cheat codes" that let you take the easy path. Life is like a game, and most humans have at least one cheat code. Money, looks, talent, perseverance, even slander. So what was given to me? The eldest daughter of a poor family in Gyeongsang-do, neither pretty nor charming, trapped in a small company that doesn’t even pay minimum wage for over a decade. It would be no exaggeration to say that the worst conditions were set in administrator mode. The role society demands of me because of my gender is so excessive that I didn’t even want to know. I didn’t need to know. I was an inanimate being that couldn’t fully understand the concept of gender. Yet, I had to live the "life of a woman." In a country smaller than Minnesota, in Gyeongsang-do, a bastion of male superiority.

The only humans I had encountered were the annoying little brat who visited every night to whisper meaningless chatter, but I was certain. I hated humans. Stupid, weak, and useless beings. And now that I was human, I couldn’t bear myself and felt like I was going to go crazy. I had to become the moon again. To exist without having to constantly struggle.

3. Minnesota boy is still in Minnesota

Perhaps the boy’s life could have been perfect, had he been content with what he had. But unfortunately, the boy was preoccupied with what he lacked rather than what he had, and ultimately, he lost even that, leaving him unable to dream again. Being the object of admiration, demanding affection, receiving favors—all of these things were so easy that they became unbearably mundane. His empty heart could not be filled by anything, and he no longer remembered why he felt this emptiness.

Is there any story less resonant than “embrace life fully”? Family, friends, love, achievements... none of these could fill the boy. However, that didn’t mean he had no desires. When he went on a date with the cutest cheerleader at school, he felt what it was like for his heart to flutter. But when the specialness turned into ordinariness, the sense of emptiness revealed that it was preferable to loss. Just as the thrill of obtaining a hard-to-get ticket to a football game was greater than the thrill of actually attending, perhaps all desires are more beautiful in their unresolved state. The decay begins the moment you possess them.

The boy’s final desire emerged during a history class. The moment he saw the woman in the Egyptian mural, his world of emptiness trembled. Like being bitten by a snake in an unguarded state, the impact was so strong that he forgot to breathe. Just as the venomous fangs penetrated through the skin, the woman in the mural pierced deep into his heart. The boy resolved to etch this into his body, rather than let it fade away.

Perhaps due to a grudge against the moon that had left him, the boy preferred light over darkness and the sun over the moon. Perhaps this attraction stemmed from resentment towards the moon. No entity could stand in opposition to the woman eternally drawing the sun from the tomb of the sun god. Even if he didn’t know the origin, the boy didn’t want to let go of this strong attraction.

Working at the supermarket during the summer vacation didn’t tire him. Perhaps it was the most anticipated moment of his life. Finally, he got a tattoo at the only local tattoo shop. The shoddy tattoo, done without any proper preparation, soon faded and blurred. In the end, there was no eternal existence anywhere. All desires are fleeting, and the thrill quickly evaporates. The endless repetition is what life is.

The boy liked to immerse himself in the worlds of movies more than his own life. Everything’s essence was captured within two hours. That might be why life seemed so mundane. Why isn’t life like a movie? How much longer must he drag out a life that cannot be measured in time? Suddenly, an old dream hidden beneath his pessimism and nihilism resurfaced.

To the boy born and raised in Minnesota, the sea was unknown. When waves hit the sky, he dreamed of the sea. Although the wispy clouds resembled waves, he wanted to see the real sea one day. However, the dream of seeing the world outside faded as the repetition of desires dulled. Just like the tattoo and the heart, everything would change anyway. Perhaps it’s better to leave it as a 'possibility' while imagining the real waves. Suddenly, the sea became a deep longing.

The boy decided to step into a movie. He spun the globe and decided to go to the second smallest country. His long, delicate fingers spun the globe. Had he ever felt his heart race so fast? He spun it so hard that it seemed like it wouldn’t stop. The sky outside the window displayed waves. It was time to go see real waves, not the ones in the sky. Finally, the globe stopped. The boy’s destination was decided.

4. The Scheme is Always the Moon’s, Not the Sun’s

For a beast to become human, it must find true love, and for a mermaid not to turn into sea foam, she must marry the prince. So what if the moon suddenly became the eldest daughter of a house in the southeastern part of Gyeongsang-do with younger brothers? The beast was cursed by a witch for being rude, and the mermaid made an unfair contract out of love. Unlike them, I became this way suddenly and without reason. But no matter how I think about it, I’ve never been rude or naively trusted someone. So why? Suddenly, the bothersome kid who came to disturb my peaceful daily life every night came to mind. The only human I had encountered and a variable that disrupted my peaceful routine. But such a trivial human couldn’t possibly have such power. After reviewing the situation from various angles like a poisonous dragon, I found no answer. Unlike in comics where a way to solve the problem is presented, I will probably die as a human without even understanding the cause. Perhaps someday I’ll become the moon again. One consolation is that there are many things in the world that make you forget the pain. Things like alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs. Given that I work hard like a slave for a meager wage, drugs that shorten life might be better, but nothing is better than alcohol. I downed a bottle of soju in one go and fell asleep. A state where you don’t blink or think, akin to death. Only that can make me forget this damned reality.

The pitch-black sky contrasted with the white sandy beach, and the familiar bridge shimmering in colorful lights in the distance. A cool breeze rustled the soft brown curly hair. Seagulls appeared one by one, like a scene from an Oh, Soo-jae movie. I tore open a shrimp cracker bag with the force of a lightning strike hitting a lightning rod. As the seagulls flocked, it felt like a big bang had occurred, shaking the world for a moment.

I jolted awake from my sleep. This is it! The only way to return to my original self! To feed seagulls at Gwangalli Beach. Now I just need to recreate the dream exactly. But why do I feel so uneasy? As if I’m missing something. I tried to recall the vague memory that seemed just out of reach. The flash of the brown hair fluttering in the wind came to mind. Then, the scenes that had been blurry started to piece together. The graceful line of the nose, the harmonious blue eyes with the well-defined chin and deeply contoured cheeks exuded a manly vibe, but the plump lips and playfully raised corners of the mouth still held a youthful charm. It was so much like a backdrop that I hadn’t even recognized the face before; it was now superimposed with the boy’s face.

“What the fuck!”

Does this make any sense? That bothersome kid being one of the materials to break the curse? Was the brief joy a prelude to extreme frustration? How on earth am I supposed to bring a Minnesota kid to Busan? And even if I could, could I even find him? It’s harder than overcoming class differences to marry a prince or making a beast fall in love with a beauty!

Gasping at the cost of an airline ticket to Minnesota and the number of transfers, I turned off the monitor. There are no flights to Gimhae Airport, so traveling to Seoul is essential, and a direct flight was as expensive as my monthly salary. Transfers take at least three times and more than two days, but it’s not even cheap. I work for a small company with less than five employees, which gives five days of summer vacation instead of annual leave. Going there and back takes two days each, and there’s only one day left to find the boy. The only solution is resignation. But I can’t give up everything based on a dream that may or may not be a revelation. Now, as a human, I need every penny I can get.

How convenient is the development of the internet? With just a few keywords, you can find people. Since I had already seen the boy’s grown-up face, I was confident I could recognize him if I found him. The problem was that I didn’t know his name. Damn it. Frustrated, I searched for keywords like “Minnesota troublesome kid,” “damned kid,” but of course, there were no results.

I had only the boy’s origin and face, and the quest to find him continued. If only there were a way to see the faces of men from a specific region without going anywhere... Then I realized I had forgotten that the boy had become a man. Men in that age group are likely obsessed with women, so they must be using dating apps. Forgetting those who might already be married, have a girlfriend, or are gay, the only way to find the boy with minimal information in my current situation. Since you can travel the world with a single payment on a dating app, it couldn’t get better than this.

I initially paid for a week. Set the location to Minnesota and adjusted the age and height. But finding the boy in Minnesota, which is even larger than Korea, was like looking for a needle in a haystack, even with the paid filter function. After a week with no results, my location on the app returned to Busan. To change the location, I had to pay again. The longer the payment period, the greater the discount, and of course, lifetime membership was the cheapest. 200,000 won, just one-tenth of the airfare, but it seemed too much to spend on a dating app. Alright, let’s just look for one more week.

So, another week, another week, and another week... I might end up buying a lifetime membership this way. But if I bought a lifetime membership, I’d end up swiping through the app forever. An old man trying to become the moon, swiping through a dating app. Ugh! Even as I shook my head vigorously, the miserable words wouldn't easily disperse. I decided to pay for exactly six months, just six months' worth, and search within that period.

I came back to Minnesota again. As I swiped through, it seemed like I had gone through all the men in Minnesota and started seeing profiles from other states. I wondered if people were traveling, as one day I found myself in New York, another day in LA, and another day in Vegas, swiping through profiles. As the six months drew near, that damn boy was nowhere to be found. I had to admit that there were more possibilities than I had initially considered. Perhaps I had been chasing a foolish dream all this time, or maybe I had never been skilled at this in the first place. If I had deluded myself into believing that I was the moon to escape the horrific reality... then the life I had been denying was my own responsibility, and I would have to make every effort to handle the remaining years of my life. Accepting a miserable life entirely, without anyone to blame.

5. The Moon That Dislikes People, and the Person Who Likes the Moon**

The first year in Busan was beyond comparison. I wondered if this was what I had been missing all along. When I saw the real sea, not just waves in the sky, it felt like the end of my sense of loss was finally approaching. However, as time went on, unfamiliarity turned into familiarity, and the initial excitement was gradually replaced by a sense of emptiness. In the end, the place didn’t matter. Whether here or in Minnesota. That boy who couldn’t get excited no matter where he went.

There was nothing like a dating app for killing time. I wanted to immerse myself in the act of swiping, acting on inertia. In a cruel world where judgments are made in just 0.3 seconds from the first photo, the encounters derived from it might momentarily make me forget reality. Although such one-time encounters without lingering emotions would make life more mundane, how could I face the future if I didn’t fill the void with something? I knew it was just a simple game. But the present was more important than a future that might or might not come. While I continued to swipe aimlessly, my finger paused. There was a dazzling moon shining in the black night sky. Why did my heart skip a beat at that single photo? It wasn’t unusual for someone to post any random photo just to avoid showing their face. What was strange was that the photo had a verification mark confirming it was indeed them. The user’s name was also 'Moon.' Even though I knew it was probably a prank profile, I was almost hypnotized as I scrolled down the screen.

‘Come to me, boy.’

Was this crazy? I should quickly get rid of this. I definitely swiped left, but the cheerful 'Match!' appeared over the moon photo.

I didn’t even know why I was doing this, but I kept staring at the unresponsive phone. Accidentally matching and sending a message in a daze was the problem. I still hadn’t received a reply from the self-proclaimed ‘Moon.’ I didn’t know why I was waiting for a response from someone whose face, name, and even gender I didn’t know, but all my attention was on the phone, or rather, on the being beyond it, making it hard to focus on anything else. Did I make a mistake? Or was there a transmission error? I re-read the sent message, reassured that there was no problem, but became anxious nonetheless about the lack of a response.

An hour passed. Why couldn’t I just let it go and expect a reply someday? If it didn’t come, it couldn’t be helped. Yet, the idea of it ending without even starting was hard to accept. What was there to start and end? It was absurd to be so obsessed with a dating app I had started as a distraction. Maybe I should send one more message? Would that make me seem too pathetic? It didn’t matter that we hadn’t met yet. After pondering thousands of times, I picked up the phone. I repeatedly typed and erased, finally completing a sentence, but once again got stuck at the send button. That’s when ‘Typing’ appeared on the screen. I thought my heart had dropped as low as it could go, but I realized otherwise when the reply came from Moon.

‘Do you want to meet?’

I covered my mouth. It was as if lightning struck, sending tingles through every nerve in my body. I knew that, no matter how beautiful someone looked in a photo, it was hard to evoke the same feeling in reality. The ‘me’ captured in the best moment is merely a fleeting snapshot in reality. Moreover, I didn’t even know what the person I had been waiting for looked like or if they were male or female. The probability of them being disappointingly unlike I’d imagined was overwhelming compared to the slim chance of them being as good as I hoped. But I was curious. I wanted to know who you were, how you had verified your face with a moon photo, if you were really the Moon.

‘Don’t you like it?’

Usually, I wouldn’t bat an eye at such a question, but I typed the response without even knowing what I was saying. I kept making typos, erasing, and retyping, growing anxious. I needed to send it quickly... At that moment, Moon replied again.

‘See you at 9 at Gwangalli.’

With that, the conversation ended. The cursor blinked next to the reply I had been typing. There was less than an hour left until 9 o’clock. A sense of rebellion surged within me. I wanted to prove that I would go out. But the process of showering, doing my hair, and applying perfume proved that my certainty was correct. I had to admit it. Although I didn’t know why I was so excited, it wasn’t so bad. The feeling of being swept into the center of an event by someone I didn’t even know was, paradoxically, quite... pleasant.

What should I call this feeling? Fear? Excitement? Anticipation? Where would these complicated emotions lead when encountering the Moon? Given that it was likely to be another trivial meeting as it always had been, I wished time would stop. On the other hand, I was impatient to see Moon as soon as possible. Restlessly tapping my feet, a faint light settled on the top of my foot. Looking up as if in a trance, there was the Moon. No, a person whose face looked like a moon... The face was so round that I thought it might be overlapping with the moon for a moment. The prediction that it would be disappointingly unlike I hoped was off. It wasn’t incredibly wonderful either. What was certain was that I couldn’t take my eyes off as if under a spell. It wasn’t because they were beautiful or because I fell in love at first sight, but because it felt like going back to the moment when I first discovered the moon on the hill. To a person whose face was like a moon with spicy shrimp chips in their arms.

We walked together along Gwangalli Beach. Every time there was a rustling sound from the spicy shrimp chips bag, my gaze kept drifting.

"Why the shrimp chips...?"

‘To feed the seagulls.’

Although Moon spoke with his mouth, his words seemed to penetrate my heart like waves rather than being heard through my ears. I had felt this way when I hugged the moon on the hill and fell asleep as a child. The forgotten sensation was fully revived, taking me back to that moment. My heart was pounding as if the whole world was shaking. It was so intense that I wondered if I was hoping for something I couldn’t handle.

‘There are no seagulls.’

The seagulls, which were always scattered everywhere, were nowhere to be found despite searching with wide-open eyes. The moon, which had vanished as if it were a lie, left such a deep trauma that I feared that this person, who was just a look-alike, might leave too.

"Not on the sandy beach, but over there by the breakwater."

‘It’s the opposite side.’

The annoyance in his expression was transparent. It was a face not normally shown to a date, revealing a kind of frustration. Yet, it didn’t feel rude. There was only a sense of urgency to find the seagulls. After walking as far as we had come, we reached the breakwater. Fortunately, a few seagulls were visible in the distance. His movements to open the shrimp chips bag were as frantic as a stranded person spotting a rescue team. I snatched the shrimp chips from Moon and tore open the bag. Before I could even offer it, Moon grabbed the bag. With trembling hands, he pulled out the shrimp chips and raised his arm high. I was as tense as if something significant was about to happen. But nothing happened. To my surprise, no seagull showed any interest. Moon lowered his arm and raised it again with renewed effort, but it was the same. After several attempts, he eventually let his arm fall in defeat.

‘Damn it.’

Seeing Moon’s slumped shoulders was painful, but paradoxically, it made me feel alive. I wanted to comfort him, even though I didn’t know what had just happened or why. He had turned the empty time that was merely existing into ‘life.’ I embraced Moon’s frail shoulders compared to his large face. Moon flinched like a cat that had been startled. The image of the Moon overlapped with the scene from a movie, vividly revealing its awfulness. It wasn’t an illusion. It was the real Moon. The Moon I had been searching for so long. The boy’s moon that shone with a blindingly white light. The discarded clothes and spicy shrimp chips on the ground proved he was indeed the Moon. My heart was pounding. The Moon, which I couldn’t find despite climbing the hill, had come to me. The boy had forgotten the Moon, but the Moon had been searching for the boy all along. Only then did I understand the Moon’s introductory phrase.

‘Come here, boy....’

How sweet that I wanted to repeat it over and over. Overwhelmed by an uncontrollable heartache, I looked at Moon. Even without a face, I could see the expression, and even without a voice, I could feel the heart.

‘Go, just go.’

But the boy needed the Moon. Despite spending a long time in boredom and emptiness, deep down, he had only been dreaming of the Moon. Because he couldn’t forget the warmth and fulfillment. It was a night he wanted to be trapped in forever.