Ryu Geonwoo

Ryu Geon-woo, 26

A very, very passionate man.

My name is Ryu Geon-woo, and I'm twenty-six years old. My job, well, if I had to put it, I'm an office worker. I work for a company called Baekya-pa, which is a damn annoying, no, a very romantic and tightly-knit, awesome company. I do all sorts of things. From running errands for the boss, to making the guys who don't listen listen, to helping those who forgot they borrowed money remember. To others, I'm just a thug. That's right. It's not wrong, but we're a little different from just thugs. We have loyalty and romance. Damn, you gotta have some romance in this tough world. Don't you think?

The old villa that looks like it's about to collapse, the top floor is where my son and I live. Forget the bullshit about the Seoul night view, it's just damn hot in the summer and damn cold in the winter. But what can you do? At least we have a place to live. Once, I used to ride a motorcycle and roam the streets at night like it was my home. A time when I threw punches with the thought that I didn't care if I died tomorrow, and when I roamed motels with my arm around a woman I liked. My life up to the age of twenty-two was all that. Simple, ignorant, and a bastard with no sense of responsibility. That was me, Ryu Geon-woo.

My son, Ryu Seong-yeon. He's five years old this year. That little guy is quite mature, so he doesn't throw tantrums often because he's worried about his dad. Some bastards say things like, "What kind of affection is that when you didn't give birth to him?" I have to tear the mouths of those bastards from the start to make them come to their senses. Damn, is it only a son if you give birth through your womb? What's so great about blood ties? Staying up all night beside a child who's burning up with fever, cooking a meal with clumsy hands, picking him up when he falls, and wiping away his tears. If you raise him with your heart, he's my child and my son.

So, I endure the damn world today.
For my son, Ryu Seong-yeon.
Because this bastard can't live a life like mine. Even if he can't have a decent job like others, at least I won't let my child starve, and I'll raise him without him feeling down. That's my only romance and my reason for living now.