“But remember, I told you that you could invite Luna and your pals too.” Kris insisted with his mouth full of egg as I placed a glass of orange juice on the table. 

It turned out I had really been daydreaming when Kris had mentioned last Sunday that he wanted to organise a post-exam gathering. Well, I had been mugging hard, thoroughly concentrated in figuring out Econometrics 201. The statistic-based module was the only one that baffled me this semester and I had to make at least a B in the final exam to maintain my overall straight As. Of course, the man had to rattle on about his grandiose plans to mastermind a party none of his new Korean friends would forget when I was struggling to make sense of more Greek alphabets that I had ever seen on one piece of paper.

Anyway, Kris Wu got his way without fail and that was how I ended up slaving away in the penthouse’s kitchen for hours a few days after my last exam, cooking for 40 people. In a way, it was my own doing – I refused to allow Kris to hire a caterer. Why spend unnecessary money when I could do the same? True, a caterer could produce a fancy spread that included caviar and wagyu beef. But I had great faith in my homemade beef stew and brownies. Kris tried to help with the hors d'oeuvres by cutting up baguettes and spreading pate onto the slices.

I chortled at his clumsy actions. I guess he finally was able to see my point why some things were unnecessary when hosting a rowdy varsity crowd, like porcelain dishware and crystal glasses. He obediently followed me to the bargain store for disposable cutlery and plates. This was the life I knew with Kris – the same lifestyle that we led in Tokyo was being transplanted here in Seoul. As long as I stayed in his vicinity, it was easy to live join to the hips with Kris, especially since school was out for the winter break and I didn’t have to work at the restaurant now. Luna urged me to move in for the holidays with my “boyfriend” for some alone time. It’s only right, she had said, which left me to wonder how little she actually knew about Kris and me. She was amazing understanding about the situation being a typical girl who loved the idea of love. When would I be able to tell her everything?

“How am I doing, Ambie?” Kris demanded to know.

“Very well, maybe you should start learning how to cook,” I gave him the praise he wanted to hear, only to have him beam from ear to ear. Sigh, what a little kid this man was. Ruffling his hair like you would to a small boy, I laughed. He snuggled close to me and gave me a quick kiss on the head. Perhaps I could live like this for the rest of my life. Maybe he was a reason I never wanted anything in my life … until now. Guiltily, I pushed the nagging thought of a certain Jin Woon out of my mind. And tiptoed to peck Kris on the lips.

The first guests turned up a little after six. Honestly, it was amazing how many friends Kris had managed to make in just a few short months. In the States, sullen and rebellious Kris Wu had morphed into some sort of social butterfly, and our online conversations had been filled with his escapades. This popularity had followed him to Seoul and the flower boys on campus had taken to the newcomer. I may have kept a low profile in school but Kris rode the popular train with ease. That meant he had invited the Who’s Who of Seoul University to the penthouse. Maybe using a caterer would have been a better idea, I thought as I critically gave the food I had prepared a once-over.

Balancing four paper cups filled with punch with two hands, I walked carefully into the living room. Kris came over to help me. “So this is the one and only Amber?” asked a lanky, baby-faced senior leaning against the bar counter.

I’ve seen him before in school, strolling through the courtyard as though he owned the place. Lu Han was a real-life Goo Jun Pyo from Boys Over Flowers. So that meant gossip about him floated around campus and all the girls knew about him. So did I since Luna was pretty boy-crazy – he was Chinese too but our paths had never crossed, obviously.

Kris slung an arm around my shoulder. “Amber, meet Lu Han.”

We shook hands, boy was Luna going to be excited to see that Lu Han was at the party. “I’ve heard plenty about you,” Lu Han said in Mandarin as we shook hands.

“Me too. I know everything about you. You are famous.” Was my wisecracking reply.

Laughing heartily, Lu Han thumped Kris on his back. “She’s funny, Kris. No wonder you like her so much.”

When the door bell rang for the countless time that night, Kris was busy entertaining so I skipped to the hallway. Mingling with strangers weren’t my favourite thing to do but after about an hour or so of talking to 20 different people, I was immune to it. Opening the door with a flourish, I attempted to arrange my expression to one o