Sunoo travelled until older roadways replaced the workplace towers. Instead of the bright illumination of glass hallways, the lights here were milder—yellow bulbs beneath awnings. He pulled up outside of a squat edifice with a red metal roof and GUKSU scribbled unevenly over the door.
Warm broth and grilled pig enveloped him like a blanket as he walked inside. A few old guys and a bunch of young men were seated at the counter chatting gossip over soju while glancing at the football match showing on the TV.
Rising from behind the kitchen window, his uncle narrowed thick glasses.
"Yahh, Lee Sunoo!" he yelled, loud enough for everybody to turn. I believed you died somewhere fancy!
Sunoo blushed and stroked the back of his neck. "Just working late."
His uncle, still wearing the same soiled blue apron he had owned for decades, pushed through the swinging kitchen door. "You look like a broom handle." He grabbed Sunoo's shoulders, turning him from side to side as though he were inspecting food. "Have you had anything to eat?" Not necessarily. Sit down, Aish!"
"Sit!" Sunoo sighed and moved to a stool at the counter. Over behind him, the guy leaned over and inquired, "Family?"
"My useless nephew," Min announced to the entire restaurant. "He thinks working for rich people means he can forget to eat."
Sunoo buried his face in his hands. "You don't have to tell everyone—"
"Eat first. Then I'll stop talking."
A few minutes later, Uncle Min slammed down a tray so big it made Sunoo's stomach flip: steaming noodle soup, marinated pork, a fried egg, and a little bowl of pickled radish.
"Uncle, this is too much."
"You'll eat it."
Sunoo looked up, and his uncle's face softened. "You're too thin," he said quietly. "Your mother would scold me if she saw you like this."
Something twisted in Sunoo's chest. He picked up his chopsticks. "I'll eat it."
"Good."
Halfway through, Uncle Min came back carrying a second bowl of broth. He set it down without comment, then reached for the dark jacket draped over the next stool.
"What's this?"
Sunoo swallowed. "A—borrowed jacket."
His uncle lifted an eyebrow. "Borrowed from who? Must be someone important. Smells expensive. Wahh!,you just started the job few days ago and you already snagged a Chaebol huh?"
"Uncle," Sunoo hissed, mortified.
"At least you're not freezing," Uncle said, giving the collar a final tug.
They didn't talk about the job after that. They talked about how the neighbor's kid kept stealing eggs, how Uncle had tried to fix the old fridge with duct tape, and how Sunoo's little cousin was now tall enough to boss everyone around.
Just as he was finishing, Uncle stuck his head into the kitchen and shouted, "Wahhh! Sunoo's here! Come out and see him before he runs off!"
Three aunties burst out in a flurry of flour and aprons.
"Omo! Look at you!" "You've lost weight again!" "Yah, you used to be so chubby—like a little rice cake!"
"I was not—" Sunoo tried, but no one was listening.
"You were!" one insisted, pinching his cheek. "Your cheeks were this big—" she held her hands out like she was holding a melon. "Like little dumplings."
Another auntie nodded sagely. "You only grew taller. That's all. Still the same baby face."
"He'd waddle around here," the third added, grinning. "And when he smiled, his whole face disappeared into those cheeks. Aigoo—so cute."
Sunoo pressed both hands over his face. "I'm going to die."
One of the older men at the counter laughed. "He still looks like a baby, just in a bigger body."
"I do not!"
"You do," the first auntie teased. "Look at you. Big shoulders, but the same little pout."
Eyes enormous, the tiny cousin peeked around the doorway. "Hyung, do you actually work for some chaebol CEO? Like in dramas?
Behind his hands, Sunoo said, "Sort of..."
"Does he resemble the good-looking ones on TV?" Tall? Angry? Expensive hair?"
"Please stop Sungmin ~."
"He does!" the cousin cried. Aigoo, so cool!
The delivery guy was even grinning when he picked up an order. Uncle Min nearly stumbled forward after clapping Sunoo on the back so forcefully.
"That's our boy." Constantly adding excitement to life."
"Can I leave now?" Sunoo begged, red to his ears.
Not without your food! One of the aunties handed him a bag. For tomorrow. "Don't argue."
Sunoo accepted it respectfully and bowed. "Thank you." Call your mother, occasionally too," Uncle Min whispered. "You know she is."
"I will,Samchoonie~."He said trying to hide the pain in his heart by giggling.
" Good boy." Uncle Min said ruffling his hair making him squirm.
Just as Sunoo was about to slip out of the restaurant, the whole restaurant erupted in a collective gasp.
"Wahhh—GOAL! GOAL!" someone shouted.
Sunoo turned back, startled. On the little TV bolted high in the corner, the Korea vs Japan World Cup qualifier was playing. The screen showed Son Heung Min running with his arms outstretched.
Uncle's eyes went wide. He dropped the ladle he was holding and grabbed Sunoo by the shoulders.
"Yahhh! Sonny scored! SONNY!!!" he shrieked, shaking him like a rag doll.
One of the aunties actually squealed. The whole restaurant exploded in cheering. Chopsticks banged against bowls. Someone threw a dish towel in the air like confetti.
"GOALLLLL!!!" the old men at the counter roared.
Sunoo couldn't help it—he laughed. Before he knew it, Uncle planted a loud kiss on his cheek and jumped up and down beside him, still yelling, "Sonny! Sonny-ah!!!"
"Uncle...!"
"This boy is the pride of Korea!" Uncle bellowed, face bright red with joy.
But just as quickly as the cheering started, the signal on the TV stuttered and froze. The picture dissolved into a blue error screen.
The entire restaurant fell silent.
"Aish—SHIBAL!" someone in the crowd swore.
"Turn it back on!"
"Who didn't pay the bill?!"
"Yahh!, Kim Minjae you darn old man, do something!"
Uncle Min slapped the side of the television with his big palm. Nothing happened. He glared at it like he was about to fight it in the parking lot.
"Don't you die on me now," he muttered. Then he smacked it again, harder.
There was a staticky buzz—and the picture snapped back to life, showing the Korean team hugging on the field.
The restaurant exploded again.
"Sonny!"
"Wahhhh!"
"That's it! We're going to the World Cup!"
Sunoo covered his face, laughing so hard his stomach hurt. Uncle threw an arm around his shoulders, bouncing on his heels.
"This is a good night," Uncle Min said, breathless. "You came home, Sonny scored, and my old TV didn't explode."
Sunoo wiped tears of laughter from the corner of his eye. "I'm glad I came, too."
He finally finally decided to go home slipped out and as the door shut behind him in a chorus of:
"Eat more!" "Tell your mom hello!" "Don't forget to sleep!" "And come back before you shrink away!"
He stood on the sidewalk hugging the warm bag to his chest. For the first time in days, his face actually hurt from smiling.
When the noise finally calmed down, Sunoo stepped outside into the summer night flagging down a taxi, the bag of leftovers still warm against his chest. For the first time in weeks, he felt like hed really come home.