Big Life

[Excellence]

Seoul's Solitude - Anseongwoo

Boys in the 90s - Rebuild

Summer Day - Shin Jeong-ok

‘Hah... Jae-ee... Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... ’

I could not keep my name in front of myself and one of the three winners. The name Harebuild is rare. At least not in his life.

Above all, Myeonghun knew the title, "Boys in the '90s."

It was a full-length reconstruction raid that I had been using since college.

Reconstruction did not complete the full length until Myung-hoon graduated. So I was even more amazed. After all these years, I can't believe I'm supposed to be buried like this. How dare you sit in the same category of excellence as me.

‘Wicked brat...! ’

Myung-hoon trembled with tears, recalling the face of reconstruction he had seen at the Writers' Club.

The reconstruction I saw that day was completely different from before. You hurl a taunt in a row, but rarely get caught up. Even the person who made a mistake by blowing back at him was humiliated.

The memory did not stop there.

What he said to the reconstructor that day was coming back to his mind.

- I've been writing a rather prestigious piece of writing lately so I don't feel ashamed of the name "writer."

- There's a literary competition just in time. Based on the previous winners, it looks like it will be okay to be a winner. Maybe another line to your career.

‘Damn……! You've said useless things! ’

I was overwhelmed with heavy shame on my own thinking.

Myung Hun twisted his head with both hands. Then I slammed my forehead against the desk. In the same literature, I had no idea that I would receive the same award.

Myung Hun checked the awards several times again.

The Best Award received a work titled "Stupid Woman," but it didn't even catch my eye. All of the attention of the current discipline was focused only on the reconstructor who received the same Excellence Award as himself.

‘It doesn't matter! I wrote a novel in three months anyway. He's been writing for seven years. Three months can't be compared to seven years. I'm superior. I write better! ’

Myung Hun scolded him several times as if he were brainwashing himself.

The overall idea of how to write a prime ministry statement has already been captured.

‘I need to focus on the fact that I wrote it in 3 months. If I had more time, I could have won the Best Prize, but I'm mixing the regret of not being able to do it because I'm busy and cool with jokes. Shit, reconstruction's gonna have to get that statement out before I do. That way we can add an instant countermeasure to his rumors. I want you to know that it's been written for almost seven years since college. That way my suspicions will shine brighter and I'll be ready for him. ’

Myeonghun ran the word program with a heavy breathing.

Ten bloody fingers spit out words and sentences at a rapid rate.

A statement filled the screen with the main purpose of his defense. It was a consolation and sacrifice to myself that I had no choice but to receive an equivalent award for reconstruction.

Tuck!

At some point, Myeonghun stops his fingers from tapping the keyboard and raises his head.

I also participated in the reconstruction, so I thought I would know the results by now. It will also appear at the awards ceremony, and it is destiny to meet it.

‘Let me greet you here first. ’

Destiny must be struck anyway.

It is better to inform Ahn Sung-woo who wrote "Seoul's solitude" beforehand.

I was afraid that I would fall, so I thought I needed to hit it first, even if I didn't have to listen to the murmuring.

- Reconstruction, you won a digital literature award? Congratulations.

Myung Hun, who sent a message on his cell phone, bit his thumb with nervousness. I deliberately chose a message instead of a call because my voice would tremble.

After a while, a reply came from the reconstruction sooner than I thought.

- How did you know?

- But you have to congratulate me. I heard that Seoul's loneliness is at the top of its class. That's actually what I wrote. Within three months.

- Oh, was that you, Ahn Sung-woo? So this is the literary contest you're participating in. Yeah, congratulations.

- That's what I'm talking about, asshole. It's no big deal to celebrate winning an award for literature at scale. I feel frankly embarrassed that it was written lightly without strength. I've been using it roughly for three months and throwing it out of my mind. And now you're a winner?

- Yeah, you're good at writing.

It was a warning that I felt teased by the praise of reconstruction for writing well.

Myung Hun tapped the touchscreen, staring at the phone with a bunch of crumpled faces.

- You've been through a lot. Son of a bitch, '90s boy, I still remember. Isn't that a piece that's been stretching for almost seven years? How lucky are you to be shining like this? I'm looking at a line to my career. Blah blah blah

- Yeah, I feel good, too.

There were no more short answers flying to the end.

Myeong-hoon never let go. Somehow, the reconstruction seemed to be laughing at itself. After considering what to finish with, Myung-hoon wrote the message for the last time.

- I'll see you at the awards ceremony. Let's live like writers in corners. Nowadays, even writers wear them well to listen to writers.

- Okay, thanks for taking care of it. Good work.

Myeonghun took a deep breath, staring into the air with a disgusting look. With my head, I was constantly thinking to get my mind together.

I am dominant in all respects.

I have already won a contest.

This digital literature award has been written by him for seven years, but I haven't won the same prize in three months!

‘Lee Soo Hee...! ’

After all, I did what I deserved to be celebrated.

Except for the anger caused by the existence of rebuilding, what remains is pure joy to receive an award of excellence.

Myung-hoon immediately found the name of the person who would like to be congratulated in the phone department and pressed the call button. The tone starts to ring in the nervousness.

“What's the matter? Are you happy with the prize? ”

The reconstruction was overwhelming and asked. In front of him, Jae-in just sat there dazed with a haunted look on her face.

“Say something. What's your reaction? ”

It was the main street in the water source.

Reconstruction took the subway to the main street as soon as it saw the winners of the digital literature award. I wanted to tell my family the good news first.

“Now he finally has an award. It's hosted by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. It's not a big or prestigious contest, but it's quite a recognizable contest. ”

Jae-in raises his hand and covers his face.

No matter the size of literature or small, it was not important at all.

Jae-in's nose is red and her eyes are wet. I should congratulate my brother, but he was so strangled that I couldn't even speak.

“It's going to be okay. It's gonna be better. We're just getting started. We're just getting started at the marathon. ”

“Rebuild……. ”

The door opens wide with the door lock ringing.

My father had left work and my mother was coming in with him.

“No, son! What are you doing here without calling me? ”

When she saw the rebuilding, she turned red and went into the house. The image of Jae-in turning his head and swallowing tears filled Mother's eyes.

“Why are you crying, Jae-in? Hey, what's going on? ”

“Mom, the reconstruction...”

“Why reconstruction? What happened to the reconstruction? Talk to me."

“Reconstruction...... won a literary award. ”

Jae-in explains after he straightens his voice.

When I heard all that, my mother opened her eyes and opened her mouth. After being so numb for a long time, I hugged her to break the reconstruction at once.

“Ouch! My son! My sweet boy! Great writer's son! I knew you'd make it! I knew you'd do it! Not because he's my son, but because I knew he could do it! ”

As she stretched her elasticity, she kissed him several times, alternating between his cheeks. No matter how big he was, he was still a cute little boy. One day, my mother was crying in her smile.

My father was just about to get his shoes organized and go up to the living room. There was not even a smile on his face. You look around the living room, where you don't want to see anything, and you head to your room without a word.

“Honey, rebuilding is next Saturday! ”

My mother cried out in her room, stealing tears.

Asrai only heard the sound of changing clothes, but there was no answer.

“Honey, the rebuilding ceremony is next Saturday! ”

“I'm working that morning. ”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Go with you or Jae-in. ”

“That guy is really...! ”

My mother got up and went into the room like a bounce.

It was only Mother's shrine that rang from the closing visit. Waiting for Father's voice, the reconstruction smiled bitterly. Jae-in stretches out her hand and rests on the back of her reconstructed hand.

The awards ceremony was the National Science Hall of Hyehwa-dong, Seoul.

Myung-hoon drove his own car to the awards ceremony early.

I didn't tell my family. I didn't tell my comrades or other acquaintances. It was because he resented the existence of Harebuild who received the equivalent award.

It was quite cold because it was autumn.

After finishing parking, I got out of the car wearing my coat.

A white car approaches the empty space across the street. Somehow, the door of the car opened and Su-hee stepped down, because Myeong-hoon was staring at it because it was cooked.

“Lee Soo-hee?! ”

Myung-hoon called Su-hee's name without even knowing it.

Why is Su-hee here when she doesn't have time for work?

It didn't take me long to realize why. Myeonghun's face began to run at a rapid rate, regardless of cold temperatures.