Back at the laundry outlet, Solji was gradually getting more impatient as time passed by and her laundry was far from dry. She patted her newly acquired small wet towel on her forehead and lay her head back, feeling the coolness settle her down.

Her phone buzzed and she slid her phone open to see that it was another reminder from work that despite working sixty-eight hours a week and sometimes becoming temporarily nocturnal in order to complete a task at the flat-glass industry branch in Seoul, she was still required to attend all the unnecessary business parties and gatherings that took place on weekends.

Solji threw up her wet cloth that perfectly sat on her forehead and proceeded to punch the side of the machine facing her. A sudden impulse rushed through her, straight through the heart beat, she felt like someone took a part of her soul away.

Bleep. Wash is complete. Then it dawned on her.

“Min’s gone,” she gasped.  She sensed it without delay and retracted her fist from the dent she left on the side of the washing machine. That was the perk of being sisters; the almost telepathic bond. She scrambled back to the chair and whipped out her phone and ferociously dialed into it.

On the other side of the phone line, a low distraught male voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Wow. Asleep on your job?” she couldn’t help but snigger into the phone.

“No one usually calls at this hour for our services. But what seems to be your situation ma’am?” the voice delicately replied.

“My sister is missing,” Solji sighed.

“How old is she and where was she last seen?”

“She’s eighteen, one-fifty-eight centimeters, got short black hair in two ponytails with a blunt fringe that almost covers her eyes, and she’s got these really, really, really chubby cheeks.” She drifted off into describing the firm dumpling-like thickness of Min’s skin compared to hers.

“And where was she last seen?” he repeated politely.  

“Yoo Youngjae, just get your over here. I need your proper assistance. Talking over the phone will only waste more time that could be spent finding Minyounggie.” Solji stuffed her washed clothes into her laundry basket with the phone wedged in between her left ear and shoulder.

“No mean to pry, but how did you get my job number?”

“Min’s in the same classes as Jongup and seeing as they’re best friends, they tell each other everything and therefore both our job numbers; probably for prank calls. Now.Get.Your..Over.Here.” She emphasized each syllable with every step that she took up the stairs with her laundry busket at her wait and hung up the phone before Youngjae could answer.

 Later that night, Solji heard a rhythmic knock at the door. She sleepily threw on her grey sweater and opened the door with a yawn. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and saw the young blond bespectacled man standing with a file at hand.

“How did you get my address?” she inquired with a squint of her eyes.

Youngjae had eidetic memory so at the precise moment she posed her question, he had already examined all her features: an oval elastic-like face and softly curved chin. Short and red spunky hair. A baggy grey sweater with Godzilla scaring frightened Japanese city people on it and black boy shorts. Fringe tied up like the popular apple hair style seen on Korean pop stars through reality tv, except hers flopped to the side and wasn’t as shiny or bouncy.  

It was evident that this young, probably mid-twenty something work-orientated woman who lives on instantly cooked meals, energy drinks and an endless supply of minty fresh Tic Tacs, was asking for his help.

“Youngjae?” she asked, tapping him on the forehead.

“Jongup and Min happened to exchange our addresses too.” He answered straightaway, walking into the main room with her to avoid another embarrassing day dream.

In the past, Youngjae was taught chilvary, respect and was constantly reminded that women were to be treated with more tenderness than you would with a man and that you should refrain from indecencies with women, but he could not stop his eyes from glancing at her indiscreetly from time to time.

While Solji leaned on the only couch that occupied the main room of her apartment and gently rocked on it, Youngjae had his back against the chair at the table that was in the middle of the cosy kitchen and main room. It was a random place for the chair to be in. More random than the case of her missing sister who she shared a mother-daughter-like relationship with because of the  and distance.

“Perhaps it’s the generation gap that keeps us from bonding," suggested Solji with a downcast look at Youngjae's feet in front of her.

“Excuse me Solji-ssi, I know this might seem well, random, but I feel compelled to inform you that I am also part of Generation Y.”

“B-bwo?” she glanced up at his face and saw that he was somehow flustered by her reaction as his why his cheek-bones lifted higher into a small smile. Solji raised an eyebrow but didn't dwell further into his sudden shyness.

“I was specially selected from my class to be hired by Seoul’s BAU as their newest recruit at age seventeen three years ago, which makes me twenty.”

“So you’re practically like Prince Charming coming here on a white horse as well as a young, intelligent and rather good-looking prodigy.” She stated with a serious expression.

“Your compliments are well received,” answered Youngjae sincerely. 

“‘Your compliments are well received’? Naw come on—are you a robot or an alien?” She glanced at him incredulously. “You’re supposed to feign innocence and at least be all like ‘oh no I’m not completely and utterly perfect in everything that I do, oh Solji-noona, you’re the pretty one here not me’.” She said in a strangely low girly voice that Youngjae didn’t really have.

“I have permission to call you ‘noona’?” he blushed.

“That’s all you care about?” She continued to stare at him in much disbelief and then tumbled onto her carpet floor with her arms crossed. She accidentally knocked down some text books and pieces of paper from Min’s pile of yesterday’s homework. 

Youngjae pushed the bridge of his glasses up and hesitantly picked up the folded line piece of paper that looked like it was ripped out of a note book. He then lifted his gaze levelly with hers, signifying her that he was about to hand it back to her, but she already moved her eyes to her feet as she pulled her knees up and rested her chin atop her folded arms.

“She got in trouble for that letter, it’s all in English, but you can try and read it. It’s amusing, but it wasn’t as amusing at the time because I was called up from my rare day shifts and was rudely asked to pick her up because she toilet-papered their whole gym and was suspended for several days. It was such a petty thing to be suspended for, schools have become stricter in the past decade, don’t you think?”

Youngjae was about to answer, but she didn’t give him time to speak as she kept on reminiscing.

“When Minyounggie came home she told me to stop acting like Anna then slammed her door and skipped dinner and even supper—although she never skips her meals. But that night she was crying tears of anger. I don’t think it was from the suspension though. She never tells me about her troubles. She’s the type to cover her inner thoughts.”

Youngjae instantly recognized the similarity between the two sisters and realized that Solji was still speaking about Min in present tense.

Well she can, can she not? No one has even filed a missing person’s report yet. He shifted from one foot to the other and pressed his slightly dry lips together. 

“Hey Youngjae-goon,” she begun again, her voice was uncharacteristically softer this time. “Do you think she ran away?” She looked at him with such quivering intensity that Youngjae almost forbiddingly stuttered.

“It is what you think it is.”

Wait to go Youngjae, you get an A+ in sensitivity. In his head, Youngjae had already internally punched himself in the mouth.

She said nothing. But Youngjae abruptly picked up their fading investigation.    

“What is your relation with Anna?”

“She’s our mother,” she said plainly.

“Oh,” said Youngjae, stealing a glance at Solji's solemn expression. “You do not refer to her as your ‘umma’.” It was supposed to come out as a question, but instead he just thought aloud.     

“No… it just goes to show how our close we weren’t,” she smiled glumly.

Youngjae took the opportunity of interrupted silence to start on the letter. After all he did take English classes, but in all those years, he has never come across a long extended vocabulary of slang profanity before.

Dear Yongguk,

Why are you such a Prissy stuck up, goody-two-shoes, self-centered, all-knowing, hard to please biatches- wanker? Do you enjoy treading your feet all over decent people like Jieun? If I ever see you within any close proximity of her then prepare to hide your crotch, because I will gladly slice it off like a pepperoni pizza.

From the best friend of the most fabulous person that you’ll ever meet in your puny life, Lee Minyoung.    

“That’s my crafty baby sister Lee Minyoung; part-time gamer, full-time pesky high school student.” Solji announced with a melancholic smirk.

Youngjae folded the piece of paper back up and slipped it into the vanilla folder within the file under his armpit. “So how come you do not know English?”

“Min lived with Anna in America when she was eight so she’s lived there half her life and then dad wanted her to come back to Samcheong-dong to complete her last year of high school. Of course she was opposed to it at first, but Min doesn’t really care where she is in life or… death, as long as she’s supplied with food and games.” She reported with abrupt enthusiasm.

“She reminds me of my sixth grade self. I had a secret dream of becoming a professional gamer.” He blurted out and Solji tried to hold in her laughter by biting her bottom lip.

Youngjae smacked his forehead, embarrassed. I am never listening to what my heart tells me to do.

Author's ramble: Okay, so while the two love-birds dawdle on, Min is essentially stuck somewhere unexpected! I'm so frustrated right now while typing this. XDD But hopefully Youngjae can actually do what he was called there to do in the first place... his damn job. 

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