Three Missed Calls and One Voice Message | Binwoo
a companion to bottles
First missed call. Dongmin was still at his company building when his phone rang. (He was working overtime again because he had to finish reading all the script before the shoot he had early in the morning tomorrow.) When he saw the caller ID, he felt something sharp in his esophagus, the same sensation he felt when he was a trainee and had to their weekly performance assessment The ringing stopped. It’s probably a mistake. He tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment.
Second missed call. He was packing all his printouts. He had to go through them again to make sure he has everything memorized. Most of his colleagues now wielded iPads but Dongmin was old school and liked to listen to his pencil as it scribbled on paper. He was on his way out the door when his phone rang. Bin. And then it stopped. Oh. His thumb itched to press return call but decided otherwise when he the image of Bin’s expressionless face resurfaced behind his eyelids. The words “I don’t love you anymore” still echoed in his heart.
Third missed call. He was at home now, fresh from the shower. It rang a little longer this time. His heart pounded in his chest. One missed call was a ambiguous. Two is suspicious. Three is ominous. The digital clock on his wall said 2 am so he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to return the call or if it was just the high of being up in the wee hours of the morning. He was so close to calling but he remembered that night, that last night, when he saw Bin naked on their bed with another man. His shoot had ended earlier than expected and he couldn’t wait to jump on bed with Bin. He even bought the tteokbokki Bin liked for them to share. That tteokbokki grew cold in the plastic bag he held as he stared at Bin’s sleeping figure huddled next to that stranger.
Voice message. “I’m sorry.” A sniff. “It was a mistake.” A hiccup. “I didn’t mean to do it.” Another hiccup. “I was so drunk and he looked so much like you.” The background was quiet but there was a distant thrum of music. “I still love you. I love you.”
















