<aside> <img src="/icons/drafts_red.svg" alt="/icons/drafts_red.svg" width="40px" /> 강미강 kangmikang.com
</aside>
These days, everything is supposed to be short. But it’s been over two years since I finished 무관심의 역방향, and I doubt anyone will bother to stumble across this page. So I’ve decided to write something long.
To talk about 무관심의 역방향 without mentioning 배롱나무처럼 붉은색 would be impossible. I began writing it in the midst of a long creative block while struggling with that novel — one that had consumed me for far too long. 무관심의 역방향 was, in many ways, a deliberate inversion of 배롱나무처럼 붉은색.
Both stories center around protagonists who refuse to give up. But the way their resolve is portrayed couldn’t be more different. 무관심의 역방향 revolves around revenge. Its protagonist charges blindly toward a goal, never once entertaining the idea of forgiveness. She’s colder, more emotionally stunted, and far more ruthless.
In that sense, 무관심의 역방향 became a distorted mirror of its sister work. And by finishing it first, it gave me the push I needed to finally return to 배롱나무처럼 붉은색, which had been left behind in frustration. Ironically, even the process of writing 무관심의 역방향 felt joyful — a stark contrast to the painful, exhausting journey of completing its sibling.
There used to be two people I knew.
The girl was quiet. She always wore black or gray, rarely smiled, and usually looked like everything was just a little too much. She often made jaded, cynical remarks about the world.
The boy was the opposite—someone who stood out without even trying. He was smart, kind, handsome, and always quick with a joke. People gravitated toward him. You could see girls smiling as he passed by, hoping he’d say something.
But the girl? She said he made her uncomfortable—that his confidence came off as arrogance. She avoided him whenever she could, claiming he brought chaos with him. She rolled her eyes at his jokes, ignored his presence like it didn’t matter, and once even walked out of class just to avoid being paired with him.