It was five-thirty in the morning. Seokjun woke up before the alarm went off.
He washed his face and put the two rolls of gimbap Aunt had packed into a plastic bag. When he stepped outside, Uncle's Porter truck was already running. The truck bed was packed with tool bags, rolls of film, utility knives, squeegees, heat guns—things Seokjun didn't even know the names of.
"Get in."
That was all Uncle said. As soon as Seokjun climbed into the passenger seat, the truck pulled away. Traffic updates came on the radio. Uncle turned it off.
"We're going to Yongin today. An apartment remodel. Full film installation on the kitchen countertops and all the doors. You, me, and Hyungsik are doing it."
"Hyungsik?"
"He's been working under me for three years. He's four years older than you."
Seokjun nodded. Uncle continued.
"When we get to the job site, keep your mouth shut. Do exactly what you're told. If you don't know something, ask—but ask once. Ask twice and I'll hit you."
Seokjun couldn't tell whether he was joking. He answered, "Yes."
They arrived at an apartment complex in Yongin. They parked the truck in the underground lot and unloaded the supplies. The film rolls were heavy. Seokjun picked one up, but it slipped and hit the floor.
"Hey."
Uncle's voice echoed through the parking garage.
"If you ding the edge of the film, the whole roll has to be thrown out. Do you know how much one roll costs? If you can't carry it, roll it over here."
Seokjun picked up the roll again. This time, he hugged it with both arms. He met a man named Hyungsik in the elevator. He had short hair and wore work clothes. He was half a head shorter than Seokjun, but the veins stood out on his forearms.
"Oh, you're the boss's nephew? Nice to meet you."
Hyungsik held out his hand. As Seokjun reached to shake it, Hyungsik looked at his palm and laughed.
"Soft hands. Won't stay that way long."
At the job site was a thirty-two-pyeong apartment. Plastic sheeting covered the living room floor, and all the kitchen doors had been removed and stood propped against the wall. Seokjun stood by the entrance, unsure where to go.
"Seokjun, bring a woven sack."
He didn't know what that was.
"A woven sack?"
"The yellow ones. They're in the truck. For the trash."
Seokjun went back down to the underground parking lot. He searched through the truck bed. He wasn't exactly sure what a woven sack looked like. He brought up two bags that looked like plastic sacks.
"Those are plastic bags. Woven sacks are yellow. Woven."
Hyungsik sighed. Seokjun went back down. He found a yellow woven sack and brought it up. Three trips back and forth. His legs were shaking.
Uncle was already cutting film for the kitchen doors. The sound of the utility knife sliding across the film was sharp. Seokjun stood beside him and watched.
"Why are you just standing there? Wipe down the doors. If any grease is left, the film won't stick."
Seokjun grabbed a rag and started wiping the doors. He didn't know that he needed to use alcohol to remove the grease. He wiped them with a damp cloth.
"Hey, hey, hey."
Uncle came over. He ran a finger across the surface Seokjun had cleaned.
"You call this clean? The grease is still right there. Alcohol. You need to use alcohol. See that blue container? Spray that on and wipe it down."
Seokjun's face turned red. Hyungsik was watching from beside him. He kept working without saying anything, but Seokjun could feel his gaze.
All Seokjun did that morning was wipe down doors, clean up trash, and carry film rolls. He never got to touch the film. He watched Uncle and Hyungsik install it. Their movements were smooth and natural as they heated the film with a heat gun and pressed it down with a squeegee. Watching the film adhere to the surface without a single air bubble, Seokjun wondered:
Could I ever do that?
At lunchtime, Uncle ordered jjajangmyeon. The three of them sat on the job-site floor and ate. Seokjun was hungry. He'd already eaten the gimbap that morning.
"Uncle, when am I going to learn how to install the film?"
Uncle looked at Seokjun while chewing his noodles.
"Learn? You can't even clean one door properly, and you want to install film?"
Hyungsik laughed without making a sound.
"Seokjun."
Uncle put down his chopsticks.
"This work is something your hands remember. You don't do it with your head. Until your hands remember, you watch, wipe, carry, and clean up from the side. If you don't like that, you don't have to come back tomorrow."
Seokjun swallowed his noodles. His throat tightened. It wasn't because of the jjajangmyeon.
In the afternoon, Uncle gave Seokjun a piece of scrap film.
"Try putting this on the side of that door. It's practice."
Seokjun picked up the film. When he peeled off the release liner, the film folded over and stuck to itself. When he tried to pull it apart, it stuck even more. It wrapped around his fingers.
"Ah—"
"Slowly. If you rush, it'll all get wrinkled."
Uncle watched from beside him. He didn't help. Seokjun wrestled with the film for three minutes. He finally flattened it out, held it against the side of the door, and pressed it down with the squeegee. Five or six air bubbles caught underneath.
Uncle came over and looked. He stared for a long while.
"...Do it again."
Seokjun tore off the film. He was given another scrap. He applied it again. Four air bubbles.
"Again."
The third time, three bubbles.
"Again."
The fourth time, Seokjun's hands were trembling. The film folded over and stuck again. While trying to peel it apart, Seokjun cut his finger with the utility knife. Blood dripped onto the film.
"Damn it."
Hyungsik tossed him a bandage. Seokjun wrapped his finger and applied the film for the fifth time. Two air bubbles.
Uncle didn't nod. He simply turned around and went back to his own work.
On the drive back that evening, Seokjun looked at his hands from the passenger seat. The cut from the utility knife, the skin cracked from the alcohol, his fingers sticky with film adhesive.
That morning, Hyungsik had said his hands were soft and wouldn't stay that way long.
Seokjun clenched his hands into fists.
They'd stay that way for a long time. He had nowhere else to go.