I was already half-way through bolting down my hasty breakfast of cereals, milk and toast when my mother walked into the kitchen. She was tying an apron around her waist.

“Morning, eomma.” I greeted her, mouth frothing with milk.

“Early day at work again?” She asked, taking things out from the refrigerator to start making breakfast for my father and sister who were still happily tucked in their beds.

“Yep. You know my schedule has changed during the weekends.” I spooned more cereal into my mouth swallowing the soggy mush without chewing.

She side-eyed me while washing the frying pan on the sink and then clucked disapprovingly when I wiped the milk that dribbled down my chin with the sleeve of my hoodie. “One would think you’ve been raised by a pack of wolves the way you eat.”

I gave my mom a toothy-grin. She had been saying the very same thing to me since I was old enough to hold my own spoon. It was one of the things I had sorely missed when I went on my self-imposed exile to America.

She began puttering around the kitchen in earnest withdrawing spatulas and measuring cups from within the recesses of the wood-stained cabinets my father had personally and lovingly installed for her when they were newlyweds. “Can you wait for actual breakfast or are you good with that?” She nodded towards my empty bowl.

“No time.” I mumbled, scarfing down the last of my toast before chugging on a glass of water. “I told you there’s this trainee I’ve been working with more closely and –“ My words were cut off by paper towels being shoved at my chin. “Eomma!”

“31 years old and still unable to keep yourself tidy.” She murmured something nasty when I began to protest. Allowing her the moment to fuss over me, something I had denied her the pleasure of doing the two years I was gone, I stood still. She was running her meticulous hands over my clothes looking for stray lint when her eyes suddenly narrowed and then she sniffed at me.

I struggled out of her grasp. “Eww! Ma! You accuse me of being raised by wolves when I eat but you just behaved like one when you sniffed me.”

She narrowed her eyes to impossibly thin slits. “You’ve been shopping. Your clothes are new.”

“Well, see…uhm…some of the stuff I brought back from the States were too worn already. I needed some new stuff.” Well, that sounded reasonable.

“Your hair is different too.”

My hands flew to my head, protecting my locks from her prying hands. So, okay. I may have gotten a haircut recently.  Maybe even coloring and a treatment. I may have styled it a bit different than I usually do. People in the industry where I work in were supposed to look trendy, weren’t they?

“I was getting tired of my bangs. I thought I’d wear it up for a change.” I took the backpack that was plopped on an empty chair by the table and started backing out the kitchen. “I’ll be going now, eomma.”

I grabbed my father’s car keys and was about to bolt out the kitchen door when my mother suddenly said, “You’re interested in someone, aren’t you? Who is she?” She crossed her arms over her bosom, eyes peeled for telltale changes on my face.

I stumbled, the tips of one of my shoes catching at the back of an opposite shin, something I rarely did because as a dancer I had always been good on my feet. “Wait? What?”

“You don’t usually care very much about how you look.” She muttered, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable she was making her adult son feel. “I always thought it was because you were already so good looking, you take everything else for granted. So, who is she and when do I meet her?”

“I –“ I paused, chewing at my lower lip as I thought of what to say, at least something that would satisfy her curiosity so that she could let me leave. “It’s nothing, eomma. I just wanted a change, that’s all.“ 

She wasn’t having any of it. “I expect to meet my future daughter-in-law all right and proper, Moon Bin. None of that modern relationship foolishness you’ve been exposed to in your travels.”

Well, that was the problem wasn’t it? She thought that I was doing this for a girl. She wanted me to be traditional. I wonder how she would react if she found out just how far off she was when it came to my preferences. Would she still be the same prying but proud mom, if she found out the truth about her only son? Would she still see me as the child of her heart if I fall short of her expectations?

But this was not the time to be maudlin. I had an appointment to keep.

I smiled at her in the way I knew never failed to soften her up, then reached out to give her a hug. “I’ll be back late so don’t wait up, okay?”

“Aish. You were always so good at escaping. Like a slippery eel this, Binnie-child.” She squeezed me briefly. “Go. Be careful driving.”

**********************************************

I should feel guilty about running off like that from my own mother. I knew she meant well. I also knew that my abrupt disappearance years before had made her sensitive even to the small changes that I made with my life.  But all I felt at that moment was a sense of relief when my father’s car slipped into an empty space at Fantagio’s employee parking lot.

I was consciously avoiding occasions where I would have to spend a lot of time with my family. Time with them would lead to questions, most of which I doubt I would ever be ready to answer. Work was a convenient excuse, maybe even a distraction from making me feel like I haven’t been behaving like a house guest in my own home.

Checking the time on my watch, I made it out of the car, securing the automatic locks before slinging my backpack on one shoulder and pocketing the car keys. The building lobby was mostly empty. Weekends meant that there was only a skeletal staff in the Fantagio building, the majority of the employees either at home or on special assignment to assist other artists in different locations. The receptionist kept her head down while I passed. I suppose the fact that I barely acknowledged her flirtations the first few weeks after I was hired wounded her ego to the point that ignoring I existed seemed more acceptable.

In the elevator, I made the decision to go up to the staff room just to check if I had gotten any memos from Dongmin’s handlers. Ever since I took to having private lessons with him, I’ve been receiving so-called helpful notes on what areas the kid needed to improve in performance-wise. As if I wouldn’t notice anything. As if I could see anything else but him…

As expected, it was empty. The office slash meeting room appeared abandoned in the absence of the managers and office workers who were usually buzzing and bumping into each other inside it. I made my way to a communal inbox tray located nearest to the door. Flipping through the papers, I scanned for anything with my name on it when I heard a door being opened on the far side of the hallway.

“It was good to see you again.”

I heard CEO Na’s voice filter through the open door of the staff room. That was strange. He usually wasn’t in this early and on a weekend too.

Clutching the papers to my chest, I chanced a peek through the door. He was standing close to man who seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place a name to the face. He was tall and slim, elegant in designer clothes. His hair was a light shade of brown and fell down the sides to frame his face which was still youthful. He had distinct facial features that reminded me of one of the elves in Lord of The Rings – the high-nose, the pointed tip of it, the slanted eyes - though for the life of me I couldn’t remember the name of that character too. 

“I’m glad we understand each other. I hope you’ll take care of everything?”

There was something in the quality of the man’s voice that told me he was probably some kind of singer. A balladeer perhaps? I couldn’t be sure. Trying to stay hidden was limiting me from being able to get a better impression.

“Of course, Jung-shii. I understand.”

The way the CEO spoke with this man in a deferential tone gave me the idea that whoever he was, he was definitely important enough for Fantagio’s head honcho to kowtow to.

“Good.” The man reached into his coat pocket and withdrew an envelope. He handed it to CEO Na and he in turn gave it to someone standing behind him. I gasped when I realized that it was Dongmin. He was trying to fit his slight frame against the gap between the CEO’s door and the hallway. He was noticeably uncomfortable being there.

“Thank you, sir.” Dongmin bent to his waist, bowing at the man as he tucked the envelope inside the side pocket of his jacket.

“I have to be at another appointment.” The man said, checking at his expensive watch. “Would you mind walking with me to my car, Na-shii?” He gave Dongmin a long, lingering stare that made my skin crawl. “I’ll see you soon.”

The boy bowed again. “Yes, sir.” He watc