Min-Jae was worried. 

“What are we going to do?” he whispered frantically. Beside him, Hawk shifted his weight but didn’t answer.

They sat near the rear of a city bus which was sprinkled with distracted morning passengers who had no interest in what the two boys were discussing, but they’d just skulked out of the neighborhood police station and Min-Jae couldn’t help but feel conspicuous, like there was an arrow hovering over his head flashing suspicious character here in flaming neon. 

His eyes darted nervously to the grandfather seated across the aisle from them. Min-Jae watched for a sign that he might be eavesdropping, but his balding head began to bob and sway and then the old man let out a loud snore.  He was sleeping with his eyes half open.

Min-Jae tucked his chin to his chest and stared hard at an old bottle cap, abandoned and dirty, on the bus’s floor.  It had never occurred to him that Seung-Bae would do anything reckless, in fact his older friend was the steadiest person he knew.  If he brought a strange girl home and announced he’d found a mermaid, well, being the loyal younger brother that he was, Min-Jae hadn’t dreamed of questioning his friend’s logic, despite how bizarre it sounded.

But standing in the police station, faced with the undeniable picture of Haenyeo on the missing persons board, had spawned a doubt in his mind.  A doubt and a fear that perhaps Hawk was right and their friend truly was in precarious situation, one that threatened him in ways Min-Jae was only beginning to imagine.

Min-Jae struggled to determine what exactly he was supposed to do.  He’d always relied on his older friends to take the lead, and he’d become an excellent wing-man as a result.  But they’d never been faced with the prospect of being in trouble with the police, or worse, before, and Min-Jae felt compelled to do something.

He leaned closer towards Hawk and hissed urgently into his ear, “Call him.  We have to tell him right away!”

Hawk chewed on his bottom lip, scowling as he gazed at the picture of Haenyeo’s missing persons poster that they had taken with his cell phone. “I can’t. He hasn’t replaced his phone yet and there’s still no answer at home.”

“Oh.” Min-Jae paused, the frown on his face deepening as his thoughts took a new turn.  “What do you think happened to her? Why doesn’t she remember who she is?”

“I don’t know,” Hawk sighed. “I asked her about all that yesterday, but she just shook her head like she didn’t know what I was talking about. I don’t get it. I mean, how did she get all the way from Jeju to Sokcho? Was she kidnapped? And why is she talking to Seung-Bae and Eun-Mi, but not us? And what about the weird way guys start acting around her? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Hyeong,” Min-Jae’s eyes widened as an idea occurred to him. “Maybe she’s not really a student. Maybe … maybe she’s a top secret experiment that escaped from a government lab.  You know, like a secret agent, genetically modified to make the enemy fall crazy in love with her and do whatever she tells him to.”

“Your brain cells have been modified.”

“No, seriously, it makes sense.” 

Hawk ignored the comment and popped his ear buds in to avoid further conversation, but Min-Jae was fairly certain he’d hit upon something important. His eyes glazed over as the scenario played itself out in his mind, evolving gradually into a grand international scheme for Korean reunification.  Haenyeo in tight black leather and a glinting steel katana strapped to her back, her red hair streaming as she slinked in the dark night across the demilitarized zone only to seduce her way into the private chambers of North Korea’s most influential military personnel. It was a good daydream: action packed, cinematically vivid, and rated for mature audiences only.

The minutes slipped by quickly.

When the bus screeched to a laborious halt, Min-Jae gripped the railing in front of him, preparing to stand.  But Hawk didn’t budge.

“Hyeong,”  Min-Jae pointed out.  “This is our stop.”

“You go ahead.  I have some stuff to do.”

“What stuff.”

“Just stuff.”

“Like what?”

“I’m going to the mall, ok?”

“Ok,” Min-Jae settled back into his seat.  When the bus began moving again, he nudged Hawk with his elbow, “You’ll buy me lunch, right?”

All of this thinking was making Min-Jae hungry.

.  .  .  .  .  .

Ye-Rim sat poised on the edge of her seat, her back elegantly straight.  She peeked demurely from under her lashes and toyed with the stem of her water glass.  The pose wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it allowed the length of her auburn hair extensions to fall in a picture-perfect, tumbling cascade of soft curls over her shoulder.  She smiled her vaguest, most mysteriously alluring, half smile at the figure seated across from her. 

He might have smiled back had he seen it, but Tae-Won’s attention was focused on the flat screen of an electronic device that he held in one hand.  With the fingers of his other hand, he periodically tapped at it.

Ye-Rim imagined herself grabbing the device and hurling it across the room.  Instead, she brought her hand to and let out a tiny, dainty cough.

Tae-Won glanced up.

“I hear the eel here is refreshing,” she quipped brightly. 

The quaint bistro she’d invited him to for lunch boasted a chic fusion menu.  She’d heard from a friend of a friend that he was fond of the place, and when the hostess that seated them greeted him by name, Ye-Rim smiled smugly to herself.  But despite all her effort, Tae-Won seemed distracted.  He nodded without replying and returned his gaze to the screen like a moth mindlessly drawn to a flame.

Ye-Rim pursed her lips and narrowed her heavily lined eyes. 

After her rejection at the Ruby Rabbit Club, she had come to an important conclusion.  She’d decided that what she felt for Tae-Won was, actually, more genuine than simple lust.  In fact, she’d decided that she loved him. 

Granted, Ye-Rim had never actually been in love before, but then again, she’d never been rejected before either, and the feelings of humiliation and longing had become muddied and confusing as they swirled inside her.  Since the feelings were new, she assumed, quite logically, that she had finally succumbed to the same affliction that was quickly picking off her clique of dedicated “party girl” girlfriends and binding them to the drudgery of married life and good behavior. 

But it wasn’t all bad.  Tae-Won was an acceptable catch, being the handsome, youngest son of a sufficiently wealthy cosmetics family.  Plus, he just happened to drive one of the iest cars Ye-Rim had ever laid eyes on. This, combined with the fact that he’d been born in Canada and was, therefore, not subject to the usual mandatory military service, weighed things heavily in his favor.

Now, if only he would realize that she’d caught him.

She rolled her eyes as she watched him tap away at the screen that cast a faint illumination over the bridge of his nose and reflected red and white light off the irises of his coffee-colored eyes.

It was time for a change of strategy.

“Oppa,” she mewed, plumping her lips into a provocative pout.  “You haven’t once complimented me since we arrived.  Don’t you think I look pretty today?”

“Hmm?”  Tae-Won glanced up again, his eyes darting over her features with confusion as her comment slowly registered.  “Ye-Rim, you know you always look pretty.”

She lifted her fingertips to her lips and tittered, suddenly feeling confident.

 “Are you ready to order?” asked their waitress.  

Tae-Won placed his computer onto the table top and gestured for Ye-Rim to order first.  She asked for a sesame salad, then, as subtly as possible, craned her neck to get a glimpse of what he’d been so engrossed in looking at; whatever it was that had become her rival for his attention.

Splayed across the screen’s flat surface were dozens of tiny thumbprint images, all of young women with pale, western features; all of young women with long red hair.

Ye-Rim’s eyes bulged.  Before she even realized what she was doing, the water glass was clutched in her hand and its contents were splattered all over Tae-Won’s astonished face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted at her.

“With me? Wha … what is wrong with you! Why are you looking at pictures of other girls when you’re out on a date with me?”

Tae-Won didn’t answer.  He snatched up his computer, kicked back his chair, and stormed out of the restaurant.

The waitress stood frozen, gaping open, not knowing how to proceed. After a breathless moment, she ducked her head and excused herself with the pretense of getting a towel to clean the mess, then flew back into the kitchen to share the juicy bit of first hand gossip with her boyfriend, the sous chef.

            Now alone at the table for two, Ye-Rim burst into tears. This wasn’t how her date with Tae-Won was supposed to end. She’d been rejected and humiliated again, and this time she’d been left to pay the check. All of this, unforgivably, in broad daylight without a drop of wine to dampen the sting.

Her eye makeup was running away down her cheeks along with her tears. It was too much.  After all, she had her pride, and Tae-Won was being an . She sniffed, swiping indelicately at her runny nose. 

What she needed was a heavy dose of cheering up. 

She dug her cell out of her purse and scrolled down her contacts list.

“Bo-Ra …” Ye-Rim sniveled into the phone when her cousin finally answered. “It’s me. Will you meet me? I need to go shopping … right now!”