I hate Seoul winters. No matter how many layers you have on, the cold somehow cuts through them and seeps to your bones. Especially at this time of the day. Why did Sam want me to come all the way to his apartment before the sun was up. He owes me a warm drink.

The stairs to Line 1 were sludgy all the way down. The masses of business men and women leaving their homes headed to work. My shoes slipped over the ice and I grabbed the guy next to me. He cursed and yanked away. Sorry, I bowed. 

I pulled my scarf tighter around me standing on the platform. 3 minutes. Maybe I’ll grab a peach tea from the little warm vending machine. I felt in my pocket—crap only 100 won. Maybe later.

The train pulled up, bringing with it a rush of cold air and we all shuffled on. Lost in music and SNS, I could twirl in circles and no one would notice.

I grabbed a seat between two old men, both reeking of kimchi and soju. I’ll have to coat myself in Sam’s cologne before school. Better to smell like a clean boy than a dirty old man.

My phone buzzed as the train jerked onward. Mom again.

Mother Dearest:  when are you coming home? We miss you so much.

Not clicking on that message. It’s way too early to deal with guilt trips. I’ll need at least a nap and a large peach tea before facing it.

200+ messages from the group chat. Better than a guilt trip at least, but still requires too much energy to read it all. I scrolled to the bottom. I’m a horrible friend.

Kimmy: he didn’t even tip me.

Hampton: what a d-bag

Kimmy: and I gave him extra sides too

Sav: Sorry girl. Maybe we should all just move back to Korea.

Kimmy: they don’t tip there either

The announcement for Hongdae station rung first in Korean and then English. The old man to my right shakily stood up. What’s an old man taking the first train to Hongdae for. Maybe he’s in charge of sweeping up the puke and free-ladies-night flyers from the backstreets. In that case, he’ll need more soju.

A handful of people shuffled on. All looking very tipsy, some to a higher degree than others. A blond girl in a small red dress and run in her tights supported a wasted girl in a coordinating black dress. A Korean couple in matching black outfits and post coital smiles squeezed in. 

The first train from Hongdae—always a treat. 

A figure swooped into the seat next to me as more people filed on. I forcefully ignored him.

I should have worn extra socks. These fake converse were made for an LA winter, not a Seoul one.

“You cold?” a voice said.

“No I’m fine,” loosening my scarf. It’s way too early to deal with a drunk foreigner. I’d need an XL peach tea for that.

“You sure?” 

I rolled my eyes and turned to look—wow. He is not a normal person. I hate it when guys have long eyelashes it’s not fair. And worse when they have long hair too. A weakness of mine. What shampoo does he use. No Ellie, it’s weird to ask a stranger about their hygiene. Even if he didn’t remember it later.

“—Seoul?”

“What?” I stuttered.

He laughed loudly, drawing attention even from the businessmen in their phones.

“I said, what are you doing in Seoul?” running his fingers through that hair.

“Oh…” I looked at my hands. Tell him the truth. Or not. He seems harmless enough. And he actually doesn’t smell like alcohol.

“I’m a student”.

“Oh cool, where at?”

“Korea University,” I muttered.

His sculpted eyebrows shot off his face.

“A SKY school! You must be really smart”

“Nope. Any foreigner can get in to the Korean language program--if they’re willing to pay the tuition.”

Crap. I didn’t mean to say that.

“Oh, so you’re learning Korean?”

Here we go. 

My phone buzzed again. The doors opened at the next station, another gust of cold air. 

“Yeah…” Only two stops until Sam’s. 

“I can help you if you want,” he smiled wryly.

There it is. I knew it. He wanted “language exchange”. Free English classes. While I’m eating convenience store kimbap to pay for this stupid language school he thinks he can get lessons for free “in exchange”. He doesn’t have

“—an accent though..”

“What?” he smiled again, showing a row of straight white teeth. Another pang. Another check on my weakness list. My cheeks are definitely red. I need to get off this train and away from this twilight-vampire boy immediately.

“I’m not giving you free English lessons” I snapped.

“What? I didn’t say anything about that…I’m Korean American…”

My cheeks are burning again. Why does my body defy me like this. We are supposed to be partners against the world’s evils.

“Ok whatever. My stop is next.” I’ll just get off a stop early and wait for the next train. 

"And where are you headed on this fine day?"

I stood up quickly and at a sudden jerk I fell into his lap. People looked. I scrambled off him as he giggled.

“Are you drunk?” 

“No. I just…have to go.”

He stood up next to me and grabbed a handle as we fell a bit again. This time I caught myself. He looked confused, biting his lips. “Girls don’t usually leave this quickly.”

Oh. Ohhhhhh. He didn’t want English lessons. He wanted something else.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m way too expensive for you, flower boy.”

The announcement came for the next stop. I scrambled through the mess of people to try and get closer to the door.

His eyes lit up and he laughed again as he understood. He pushed up a white sleeve. Boys in white collared button down shirts. Why does this stranger seem to know all of my weaknesses? I hate him. I’ve known him for 3 minutes and I hate him.

“No, it’s not….I’m not like that.”

“Of course you’re like that. You’re on the first train from Hongdae. Your hair is all a mess and you’re all dressed up, but your shirt is untucked,” he looked behind and hastily fixed his shirt. “You just came from a night of clubbing, and you aren’t done yet.”

I was certain of his intentions and yet he didn’t smell like alcohol…and was he even of age to go clubbing? He looked so…innocent and… soft…

“No seriously. I just don’t see other foreigners in Seoul much and I wanted to talk to you…and…” suddenly he was the one grasping for words. It felt good to see him struggle. 

“I live in Hongdae and I’m on my way to…my friend’s house…”

“Dressed like that?” I pointed to his fitted black pants.

“Yes?”

The doors opened and I wedged myself into a slew of people heading out.

“Wait,” he grabbed my wrist.

“Excuse me!” I wrenched it out. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry I…do you recognize me?” he whispered.

Crap. Was I supposed to recognize him. Was he from a church or from college or from LA. Why were there so many people getting off here and why weren’t they moving faster.

“I think I saw you once. At a club, picking up girls. And now you’re looking for another round.”

I reached the door finally. I pulled my hood up and jumped out. I’ll just go downstairs in the warmth and wait 5 minutes for the next train. Worth it.

The train suddenly made screeching noises and people yelled. I turned around to see that this kid had squeezed himself between the people and the doors—his body smashed in the middle. Arms dangling over the platform, struggling to get out.

What the  -.

The businessmen around him cursed as the doors opened and he fell out on to his knees. Hair askew, shirt untucked, but smiling brightly at me. 

“I couldn’t let you go without you knowing the truth,” he jumped up.

What the actual -.

“You seem icey. Let me buy you a coffee,” he stumbled over.

“Absolutely not,” I turned around and headed for the stairs. “I’m late,” which was partially true.

He darted in front of me and I stepped back. Jesus what is his problem. 

He pointed to the machine next to us. 

“No we don’t have to go anywhere, just one of these.”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Hot chocolate then”

I pushed his shoulder aside with my finger.

“The hot chocolate in those machines is nasty.” I took a couple steps down. 

“I’ll buy you a peach tea then.”

I froze. Rationally I should leave. But the inner safety alarms weren’t ringing. The sun had risen and people filled the platform. I wasn’t in danger. I’m just annoyed. Annoyed that this kid was not only pretty, but also very nice. It’s like he knew what my type was, and was going to use it to his advantage. 

I stopped and turned anyway.

He was searching his pockets, realizing that his pants had none. He looked down, surprised to see that I was still waiting.

“Ummm….” he pulled down his sleeve and showed two coins, “do you have 100 won?”