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Chapter 1: Eyes on You

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There was still plenty of time to kill when I reached the city. I had to meet my new roommate at 5 p.m., but, glancing down at my watch, I saw that it was only a quarter 'til 2.

"Excuse me. Instead of taking me to that address, could you just drop me off close to The Met?"

The man snarled his lip in annoyance but nodded.

"I'm going to be studying graphic design at a music and arts college near here," I smiled, inwardly cringing at my weak conversational skills, but the driver made no response. Instead, he turned up his music and kept driving.

When we arrived at the museum, I thanked the driver and exited the car, gently slamming the door as to not receive another snarl.

"Thanks," I smiled and waved at the annoyed Über driver through the car's window. He took off without looking back.

"Okay, so that probably could've gone better," I thought aloud as I turned to walk up the steps to the museum entrance.

In hindsight, I shouldn't have expected for New York to be quite as welcoming as the small town in California I had grown up in, but, then again, small towns have their flaws too. Those I knew all too well.

Trying in vain to comb out my blonde hair with my fingers, I entered the museum and sighed. I had wanted to make a good first impression on my new roommate, who, from the few Instagram pictures I had seen of her, looked absolutely gorgeous, but the trip to New York had worn out what little makeup I was wearing, and my choice of comfortable airplane clothes weren't exactly glamorous.

"I'm sure she'll understand," I sighed, again, grabbing a brochure from the information desk. I was pleasantly surprised. On top of the normal exhibits, today, the museum was featuring a display of traditional and modern Korean art. I had taken Korean classes in grade school, and I felt, in some strange way, like seeing the exhibit would help null the homesickness I felt growing inside of me.

"Is that the girl?"

"I think so."

"I feel so bad for her."

"She's kind of weird, though. Don't you think?"

"Did you hear what she happened yesterday in the music room?"

"I heard-"

"Don't listen to them."

In the back of the room, the boy took my hand. He told me not to listen, so I didn’t.

"Okay, class, please pay attention. This hangeul is very important."

I bet Jaebum would've loved to see this exhibit.

Jaebum had been my best friend in elementary school, but his family had moved when I was eight. I never found out where to. It had all happened so suddenly.

I saw other parts of the museum first. By 3:30 p.m. I felt myself running slightly low on time, so I hurried across the museum to the Korean art exhibit. The room I stepped into opened up like a ballroom filled with calligraphy, paintings, and pottery. The exhibit was as morbidly quiet, and, unlike all the other exhibits, the only other person I saw around me was a snoozing guard. I assumed it was due to the summer break being at a close and, perhaps, to other events going on in Central Park at the time drawing the crowd elsewhere, but something about it still felt strange.

I walked across the empty space, moving slowly, but efficiently, from one exhibit to the next.

After skirting all aro