Chapter 1 — Wedding Anniversary

‘Haaah…’

On the floor, I lay sprawled beside Michael Park and Sarah Lee, drenched in sweat, staring blankly at the ceiling as we caught our breath.

No matter how many times I tried to refuse Michael Park’s persistent requests, I had no excuse now—this day, this moment, was inevitable. Even with ten mouths, I couldn’t justify how we’d ended up here.

‘How was it?’

Michael Park asked me the question he should’ve directed at Sarah Lee.

I just gave an awkward smile.

That damn three-way affair everyone gossiped about.

At first, I’d agreed only out of a flimsy justification—merely fulfilling Michael Park’s desire. I reluctantly gave in, collapsing into it like a man pushed backward.

But deep down, I won’t lie: I wasn’t dragged here unwillingly.

Back in college, I’d always been part of their couple’s world. Michael Park would always invite me when they met, and they’d kiss passionately in front of me without hesitation. I’d grown accustomed to trailing behind them like a silent attendant in their love games.

And wasn’t Sarah Lee kind to me in her own way?

She constantly set me up on blind dates, trying to find me someone. When we formed couples and traveled together, she’d carefully pick places she thought I’d like. But none of the women lasted.

Every woman introduced to our trio eventually felt isolated, as if she were the odd one out, and soon withdrew, offended.

I’d heard too often from Sarah Lee how those women inwardly seethed:
‘Did they invite me just to humiliate me?’

Despite my caution, I couldn’t suppress the deep-seated habits we’d formed over years.

Whenever Michael Park hit a snag in his relationship with Sarah Lee, he’d come to me for help.

Isn’t that how love goes?

They’d fight for no reason, then reconcile as if nothing happened—again and again. Through it all, Michael Park would vent to me, and Sarah Lee would later seek me out too.

Though I never interfered in their lives, I’d become an ironic mediator—someone who saw deeper into their bond than anyone else.

Whenever they fought and drifted apart, Michael Park and Sarah Lee would each come to me separately for counsel.

Now, with Sarah Lee still lying in the bedroom, I stepped into the living room, lit a cigarette, and decided no topic felt appropriate in this silence.

‘Daniel Kim, don’t you think our Sarah Lee is beautiful?’

‘Of course. I’ve always thought so—but today, she seemed even more radiant.’

I refused to use crude language.

I could’ve answered Michael Park’s intent with vulgar boasts—her mouth was sloppy wet, her pussy squeezed like a vice—but something held me back. I couldn’t shake the worry: How would I look at Sarah Lee again after this?

Why was I like this?

Others claimed threesomes gave them vitality, even declaring that after such ecstasy, ordinary sex felt meaningless. But not me.

Was it because the one dragged here unwillingly ended up dominating the chaos?

Leaving Michael Park’s house, I felt uneasy. Was this natural? Or just my own pointless guilt? I couldn’t settle on an answer.

‘Daniel Kim, what do you think sex is?’

He’d asked me this once, back in college.

‘Hmm… Maybe it’s like a gift?’

‘A gift?’

‘Yeah. The giver feels joy in giving, the receiver joy in receiving. If it was disappointing, you look forward to next time. If satisfying, it stays with you forever.’

I answered lightly.

‘Right… So, yesterday, I gave Sarah Lee a gift.’

‘Wait—you finally did it with her? No wonder you sounded so serious! How was it? Was it amazing?’

I clapped Michael Park’s shoulder, genuinely impressed he’d finally slept with his girlfriend.

‘I don’t know… It was all so overwhelming. I just… did it. But now that the path’s open, I feel kind of uneasy.’

‘Unsettled? About what?’

‘Maybe I should buy a chastity belt with my hard-earned money?’

Michael Park, talking about medieval European chastity belts—used by men going off to war to prevent their wives from cheating. At the time, I, a virgin with no romantic experience, couldn’t possibly grasp the emotional gap. But I nodded along, pretending to understand.

‘I get where you’re coming from, but a chastity belt? Come on. We’re not in the Joseon era. Sarah Lee’s a free adult woman. That’s going too far.’

The original chastity belts were custom-made for nobles, expensive metal girdles locked tight around the waist. Small holes allowed for menstruation, urination, and defecation—necessary for long-term wear.

‘Do you even know the downside of chastity belts?’

‘Huh?’

I gave Michael Park a detailed explanation as he tilted his head.

‘Didn’t you hear? The only ones who truly profited back then weren’t the husbands—but the craftsmen who made them.’

In truth, while noble husbands were away at war, other men would work tirelessly to seduce their wives. The chastity belt was always in the way—so they’d bribe the craftsmen, duplicate the keys, and finally satisfy their lust. And the craftsmen? Rumor had it they’d even get to use the women themselves as a bonus.

‘Then just trust a reliable friend with the key.’

‘You really think someone as naive as you existed back then? The outcome would’ve been obvious…’

‘Obvious how?’

‘If a woman’s determined to get laid, does a friend really matter? First, she seduces the friend, gets the key, unlocks the belt, fucks her lover wildly, returns the key—and fucks the friend again as a thank-you.’

‘Really? But, hypothetically—Daniel Kim, what would you do?’

‘Me? Depends on the situation.’

‘Be honest…’

‘I’d probably pray for you to die in battle first. That’s the only way I could carry out my filthy plans without you suspecting a thing. And then…’

‘Then?’

‘If that seemed impossible, I’d just say it outright: “While you’re gone, I’ll keep her oiled, tightened, and polished. Don’t worry—hand me the key. Better me maintaining her than random bastards touching her.” Sounds protective, doesn’t it?’

‘Yeah… That sounds honest.’

That was the kind of honest talk Michael Park and I used to have.

After I was discharged from my military service and he enlisted, I’d frequently play the role of her devoted boyfriend—keeping other men away, making my presence known among her friends. I even visited her parents, declaring my duty to protect her until Michael Park’s return.

Later, Michael Park confessed that thanks to me, he’d made it through his military service without a single worry.

To them, I was a friend, a brother, a silent guardian.

And I didn’t mind. In fact, Michael Park’s confessions were a strange comfort.

He’d always warn me before sleeping with Sarah Lee—and afterward, he’d vividly replay the most intense moments for me.

‘Man, I finally got my first blowjob.’

‘Blowjob?’

‘You know—what Westerners call “playing the flute.”’

‘Playing the flute?’

‘Ugh, you’d know if you’d ever had sex. Sucking my dick, obviously!’

‘Did Sarah Lee do that for you?’

‘Do it? I begged her. At first, she covered her mouth with both hands, giggling like it was dirty—but she gave in eventually.’

‘And? How did it feel? Any adjectives come to mind?’

‘Hell yeah. It was fucking amazing. I got so turned on I couldn’t control myself—just shot it straight into her mouth!’

‘Shot what? Pee? Or cum?’

‘What the hell? Women might pee when aroused, but a man doesn’t piss when he cums! Read a damn book. Jeez!’

I was an ignorant fool when it came to male sexual mechanics.

Back then, I only cared about obscure historical trivia—chastity belts, European secret societies, or Tibetan monks’ orgiastic rituals.

‘Daniel Kim, pull out one of your pubic hairs.’

‘My pubes? What for?’

‘Just do it.’

Without explanation, he took one of my hairs and didn’t return it for a long time.

Later, I was buried in research at the library, scrambling to finish a report.

Michael Park quietly approached and slipped a small card envelope into my hand before walking away.

Puzzled, I opened it.

Inside was a single photo.

Sarah Lee was grinning like a sitcom character, holding a piece of paper against her chest like a name tag. On it, written clearly:

Whose hair?

But what made it worse—wedged between her front teeth, long and unmistakable, was a single pubic hair. Mine.

I burst out laughing so hard I shattered the library’s silence.

‘Hahaha—oh, I’m so sorry!’

The hair never came back. But the photo did.

Michael Park was shameless. Sarah Lee, too.

People would say: You keep following Michael Park around—when will you live your own life?

After Sarah Lee graduated and Michael Park returned from the military, I was still adrift. I’d re-enrolled earlier due to my reserve service, but with no clear future, I just went to graduate school.

They, meanwhile, were set to graduate, find jobs, and marry.

Their fairy-tale romance was the envy of everyone.

‘Mr. Daniel Kim, you should get married too.’

Despite knowing me for years, she always spoke to me formally.

I’d come to believe all women should be like Sarah Lee. I never said it, but I secretly sought women just like her.

She was the only woman in my life—the one I’d known longest. Even after she became Michael Park’s wife, she remained the fantasy in my lonely nights of masturbation.

Even when Michael Park and I came home drunk, she never complained. She welcomed us without a trace of annoyance.

Michael Park, weak with alcohol, would always ride on my back, whining to go home. Even half-conscious, he’d cling to me like a student who’d never grown up.

In the morning, as we sat across from each other, struggling to swallow congee, Sarah Lee would watch us with the same fondness.

When I graduated and joined a nameless ad agency as a planning assistant, it was the two of them who encouraged me.

It wasn’t Hollywood. We made 30-second commercials in an era when computers ruled advertising—everything had to be digital to be taken seriously.

‘Michael Park, I wasted years studying. This job? Worse than manual labor. It’s backbreaking!’

Michael Park, always sharp with information, never held back advice.

Working in investment, he was plugged into market trends. He’d constantly bring me new ideas, which gave me an excuse—the excuse—to visit his place more often.

‘Daniel Kim! I’ve got a hot tip—come over tonight.’

I squeezed time from my hectic shooting schedule and arrived late at Michael Park’s newlywed home.

I looked a mess—unshaven, wearing rags, surviving on all-nighters from script battles. My life was chaos.

Inside, the two were watching a movie in their pajamas.

Through her sheer, fluttering gown, I caught sight of Sarah Lee’s flawless body.

I was too hungry to care about gratitude for the late-night meal she prepared. My eyes were glued to the alluring curve of her form.

‘Eat properly. What’s so urgent you’re killing yourself?’

As I wolfed down food, Michael Park handed me a document.

‘Look at this. I copied it even though it’s confidential. It’s a long-term investment strategy from U.S. ad agencies. Check the circled part.’

‘Music videos?’

‘Exactly. Advanced ad firms see music videos as a lucrative cash cow. Has your company ever considered this?’

It felt like rain in a drought.

We’d been so focused on commercial viability, I’d never looked this way.

But even as he spoke, my eyes stayed locked on Sarah Lee’s full, rising breasts.

‘Hey, asshole, while the big man’s talking, you’re drooling over my wife’s tits? Never seen a pair before? Want me to just take them out and show you? Hahaha.’

I snapped my gaze away, face burning. When she returned, modestly covered, I felt deeply embarrassed.

I left, thanking him for the info.

As Michael Park followed me out, he lit a cigarette and tossed me a line that choked me with smoke.

‘How long are you gonna live alone? If you won’t marry, let’s just live together—three of us.’

‘What? Are you even serious? Live together?’

‘Why not? Sarah Lee knows you. We’re close—what’s to hide? You could move in like a boarder. We’d be cozy—brothers, sharing everything. Too idealistic?’

‘Are you insane?’

‘No. Last week, I worked with a guy from Gartner’s U.S. branch. He said threesomes are common there—couples even swaps. I was shocked!’

Back then, any deviant act was labeled adultery. Confucian values crushed sexual openness. Michael Park’s idea felt dangerously radical.

‘Still, it’s morally wrong! How can you live with a married couple and have sex with them? And if a kid comes—how do you take responsibility?’

‘It’d be one of ours, right? Unless some random bastard sneaks in?’

Michael Park’s mind was more open than I thought. Maybe the American’s words had shattered his worldview.

‘I mean, Sarah Lee’s gorgeous, I’ll admit—but could I really have sex with her in front of you? No way. Don’t even bring it up outside—people will think you’re crazy.’

But once the first word was out, Michael Park kept pushing—constantly tempting me into a threesome with Sarah Lee.

I saw every setup he tried to create, and kept dodging—citing my busy shooting schedule.

‘Hello, Simple Planning Agency. Go ahead.’

‘Is this Jung Daniel Kim?’

‘Speaking. Who’s this?’

‘It’s Sarah Lee. Hi. I’m sorry to call, but Michael Park collapsed at work today. He’s home now, but he keeps asking for you. He seems really sick. Can you come over tonight?’

‘Of course. I’ll come. What’s wrong with him…?’

I rescheduled my afternoon work, ate a quick bowl of soured soup, and headed to Michael Park’s.

‘Ding-dong.’

‘Come in.’

‘How’s Michael Park? Here, take this.’

I handed her the orange juice I’d bought.

‘Where is he?’

‘In the room. Go see him.’

I opened the door. Michael Park was curled up on the bed.

‘Dude, what happened? Where does it hurt?’

Suddenly, Michael Park threw off the blanket like a spring and sat up.

‘Ha! Fooled you! Ten cents for twelve fake goat turds—gotcha! I’m not sick. You kept making excuses, so I had to pull a stunt.’

‘You bastard! I didn’t know—I even bought juice with my last dime!’

‘Perfect. Don’t just stand there. Let’s drink—haven’t seen each other in ages.’

He led me to the dining table, where drinks were already set. Passing the living room, I mock-punched Sarah Lee for her role in the scam.

She just smiled, silent.

The three of us clinked glasses, laughing.

‘To the night our bones and flesh burn together!’

‘What the hell kind of toast is that?’

Michael Park grinned, drunk and proud.

‘Daniel Kim! Remember what I’ve been saying? That thing!’

‘That thing?’

‘Living together—us three! I got her approval today! If you don’t believe me, ask Sarah Lee.’

‘Wait—you actually agreed to this, Sarah Lee?’

She didn’t speak. Just bowed her head and nodded.

I was speechless. My cock, however, throbbed against my will.

As we drank, the thought of sex felt impossible—yet my body betrayed me.

Midway, Michael Park said, ‘Sarah Lee, change into something comfortable. You know—what I told you about.’

She left and returned.

I froze.

Michael Park had planned this all along.

Sarah Lee’s nightgown was sheer pink, translucent—she wore nothing underneath.

‘Well? Isn’t our Sarah Lee beautiful? Close your mouth, asshole—flies’ll get in. How provincial.’

Sarah Lee kept her head down.

‘Michael Park… You’re serious?’

‘Dead serious.’

The game was past denial. Michael Park grabbed Sarah Lee’s hand, then mine.

‘Come on. A new history begins now.’

He pushed us toward the bedroom.

Hesitating inside, I was shoved forward.

‘Go wash up. Sarah Lee, take off her gown. Then lie down.’

In the shower, my mind spun. What am I doing?

When I returned, a sharp animal scent hit me—not just sweat, but the musk of sex, the raw perfume of desire.

Michael Park on the left, Sarah Lee in the center, me on the right.

Then Michael Park sat up, perching on the chair beside the bed.

‘Now… love our Sarah Lee beautifully. If you’re my friend, prove it. I’ll watch and guide.’

He dimmed the lights, elbows on knees. From afar, I saw his hands tremble—but the shadows hid the rest.

Then came the moans. The tug-of-war of pleasure.

Her cries filled the room—no space for anything but ecstasy.

The woman who’d haunted my fantasies, my nightly release, was now beneath me—real, trembling, mine.

I couldn’t call her name.

Not with Michael Park beside us, stroking my back as he shoved his cock into her mouth and pounded her pussy.

‘Ugh… Michael Park, I’ll love you forever. Only you.’

‘Haaah…’

The three of us lay on the floor, spent, breathless—just yesterday.

I slept in late Sunday morning in my tiny studio.

I’d refused their pleas for me to stay—facing them again felt like a betrayal of my conscience.

I finally got up, turned on the TV.

The news showed a car crash—vehicle veered off a wet highway, crashed down to the ground.

I chuckled. What an idiot. Why hit a perfectly good guardrail?

‘Beep beep beep.’

The fax machine on my desk whirred to life.

Who’d send a fax on a Sunday?

‘Daniel Kim, it’s me, Michael Park.

Sorry to contact you so suddenly.

But you need to know now.

First, take the key. By the time you finish reading this, you’ll remember what it’s for.

My pre-employment health check was fine.

But yesterday, the company called me in.

Late-stage acute lung cancer.

Me? A non-smoker, never even coughed.

You remember my father died young?

Must’ve been genetic.

I was out of it all the way home.

I had to tell Sarah Lee.

I struggled to calm her—she cried endlessly when I called you over.

I was afraid you’d suspect.

Before I die, I wanted to leave healthy memories.

To have us three share one perfect night.

The timing’s bad.

But I’m sending this so Sarah Lee won’t know.

I asked the stationery store uncle to send it at exactly this time.

I can’t let you see me waste away.

Would it be too much to let me die in a random car accident on a rainy road?

I can’t say more—someone might read this.

In a world without me, only you can guard Sarah Lee’s chastity.

Daniel Kim—never give that key to anyone.

Please, take care of our poor Sarah Lee.

One last request:

If you two ever marry… could you make it on my death anniversary?

Just once a year—but on your happy wedding anniversary, let me join as an uninvited guest.

I want to celebrate with you.

We’ll miss each other every year.

One last plea to our Sarah Lee:

If she becomes a widow, don’t let her suffer. Hold her close.

There’s no one else I can ask.
You understand, right… my friend?

—From your departing friend, Michael Park’

And so, our wedding anniversary was set to match Michael Park’s death date.

People called me crazy—calling a young widow to remarry me, a man already consumed by grief.

But I didn’t care.

Time may heal, but we chose not to forget.

We were people who, even if he’d lived, would’ve lived entwined as three.

Why force forgetting?

Maybe that’s why—today, on our anniversary—Michael Park, who isn’t here, feels closer than ever.

—End—