Jung Yongjoo, better known as Jung Nicole, moved back to Korea a few days after she turned eight. It was in the middle of autumn when the teacher introduced her to the entire class. Most of the pupils laughed whenever she talked because of her accent, and the others looked at her with utmost curiosity—even the teachers—because of her already westernized personality.

  Woohyun, on the other hand, saw the strangeness she held as her personal charm. Out of fascination, he befriended her and asked about her hometown in the States. He was intrigued by the skyscrapers she mentioned and the sweets she ate.

  They spent most of their days together, but Woohyun never expected that everything would suddenly stop by the time they reached the brink of adolescence. It was summer, and they were resting on the hammock Mr. Nam set up for them. They both grew taller, and both didn’t mention just how conscious they were of each other. Nicole was beginning to lose her puppy fat, while Woohyun’s muscles were beginning to protrude from his lanky body. Day by day, their features were being chiseled—with each change bringing them closer to maturity.

  Both were looking up at the sky, being barricaded by the leaves above them which swayed with the tiniest push of the wind. The shrill cries of the cicadas almost overpowered the sound of the vehicles zooming by from the distance, along with the laughter of the children nearby.

  “It’s really hot,” Nicole sighed. “Do you want to buy ice cream?”

  “We’re going to Europe soon,” Woohyun intercepted. “A few weeks from now, my Dad said so.”

  “I heard,” she quietly replied.

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Why should I be?” she shot back.

  “If you told me you’d go back to America, I think I’d be mad,” he confessed, the honesty present in his voice, which was beginning to become deeper, as well. He found it strange how a few years could change them so much. He then began to wonder what a decade would do to them.

  “I’m not mad,” Nicole assured Woohyun. “But I suppose I’m sad.”

  Silence engulfed them. She then asked if Hoya was already aware of it, and he said he was. They talked about random things afterwards, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, their sweaty hands intertwined.

<:>

  “You were the best of friends before,” Hoya remarked. “But a few years after you moved, I never heard her name come out from that mouth of yours. What seriously happened?”

  Woohyun pondered on what his friend had said. He stared at his right palm, and recalled the last time he held her fragile hand.

   “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think we just grew older.”

  Hoya scoffed. “Prepare your heart, then. Go and rest for a bit.”

   And he did just that. After taking forty winks, Hoya entered the guest room to wake his friend up. “The dress you told me you’d wear is already ironed,” he began. “I’ll go and warm the car up.”

   “Thanks,” he grunted, while sitting up straight. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and proceeded to take his towel from his bag. “By the way, will Eunji be there?”

   Hoya turned around to look at Woohyun straight in the eye. With a warm smile, he said, “I’m bringing my engagement ring with me. Of course she’ll freaking be there.”

   Woohyun smirked, wondering why he even asked in the first place. Nevertheless, he found it a strange match: Eunji and Hoya. She was too boyish for his preferences, but the more he mulled over it, the more he realized that it wasn’t as strange. A girl would basically have to be a tomboy in order to go with Hoya’s flow. No matter how much the young man cried out before that he would find a girl with daisy crowns and floral dresses and inevitably marry her.

   For someone meticulous, Woohyun prepared quickly. He knotted his bow with precision—a procedure he learned from London (and he felt he had attended way too many conferences). After tilting his head to see if his hair all stood up in the right places, he spritzed some cologne on the balls of wrists and neck before dashing out of the apartment.

   Hoya was already in the car, with the heater and with hip-hop music playing. He was bobbing his head with the beat while his fingers tapped the steering wheel. Woohyun opened and closed the car door, all in a swift manner. With a sigh, he turned to Hoya and said, “Let’s go.”

   “You sure are excited,” Hoya remarked, his mischievous grin exposing his fangs.

   “You think?” Woohyun looked at the road ahead, filled with glistening lights and frost. “I know someone who’s more or less in the same situation as me.”

   “What do you mean? Meeting your first love again?”

   “What do I mean?” he parroted in a pondering tone. “I wonder.”

<:>

  Jin Gook clung on to Sungyeol’s leg with all his might, the moment the front door was opened for him. Hara, on the other hand, kept her distance. Her wide eyes were fixed on the young man, who was at a loss. He began to doubt his decision of showing up.

  “You’re the young man Sunggyu sent?” a woman in her late fifties asked, as she emerged from the kitchen with her husband. “You should have just posted it to us—why travel all the way to Busan?”

  Sungyeol gave a polite bow. “Actually, I met the person who was supposed to give this to you outside. He just asked me to do it, instead.”

  “Oh,” she said, eyes wide with surprise. She then turned to Hara. “Dear, why won’t you prepare a cup of coffee for our guest?”

  “Gran, he’s the one who picked me up when I got lost in Daegu! I gave him our address, because I wanted to play with him again,” Jin Gook looked up at Sungyeol with a grin so wide it almost broke the young father’s heart. “I’m glad you came, Mister.”

  He choked back his tears with a slight smile. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he tousled Jin Gook’s hair.

  “So you came for Jin Gook?” the husband finally asked. He had a good aura surrounding him. He had graying hair, and a pair of glassy, hazel eyes. The corner of his eyes crinkled whenever he spoke, making him look friendly.

  “Yes,” Sungyeol meekly answered. The couple told him to sit on the couch, and Jin Gook followed him, comfortably snuggling close to him. Carefully, he took out his gift to the boy. “I remembered you when I saw this.”

  “Whoa!” Jin Gook’s smile grew wider. “Thank you, Mister! I’ll have to go upstairs to keep it!”

  With that, he waddled towards the stairs, and Sungyeol thought about the day his son was finally able to walk. It wasn’t long before Hara showed up, body stiff and eyes downcast. She placed the tray on the coffee table, and just when she was about to follow after Jin Gook, Sungyeol blurted out, “Wait.”

  He stood up, and looked at the elder couple sitting across him. He formally bowed, and said, “My name’s Sungyeol. Lee Sungyeol. I’m actually...Jin Gook’s father. I came here...to tell you that. And to apologize for causing pain not only to Hara, but to you, as well.”

  Hara’s jaw dropped, while her Aunt and Uncle kept quiet, studying Sungyeol’s stance. With a chuckle, the husband remarked, “Don’t you know just how long we’ve waited for you to show up?”

  Tears threatened to emerge from his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even sure if he should respond or not. “I’m not demanding too much,” he choked out. “I’ll understand if I’m not welcome. I just want to—”

  “I think you shouldn’t be saying this to us, Sungyeol,” he turned to Hara. “Why don’t the both of you talk about it? We’ll look after Jin Gook.”

   Hara opened , ready to defy what her elders had said, but the husband placed a firm hand on her slender shoulder. “I think it’s time to face this, Hara.”

   With that, the couple went upstairs, their strides silent. Only she and Sungyeol were left in the living room, steam still rising up from the mugs.

   “Seeing that you still mixed me a cup, I’m assuming you aren’t as mad,” he remarked, trying to ease the tension and drown the rhythmic pulse of the silver clock hanging on the wall.

   “Why’d you come here?” she seethed.

   “Let’s start again, the three of us.”

   “What if I say no?”

   Sungyeol paused. He looked down, and admitted, “I’m actually afraid you’d say that.”

   Hara crossed her arms; tears, threatening to emerge, made her eyes glisten. She attempted to say something, but felt dry. Instead, she hanged her head, and covered with her right palm.

   “What kind of…” she sighed, and faced him once again. “What got into you, that you’d go all the way over here to find us?”

   Sungyeol’s lower lip began to tremble. With a whisper, he answered, “I grew up.”

<:>

   Jin Gook placed his present on his bed. Looking around silently, and listening to the voices downstairs, he quickly opened his drawer and took out the container where he kept his drawings. Carefully, he pulled out the picture he found several years ago, just before he and his mother moved to Busan. It fell from one of Hara’s books, and without her knowing, he kept it. Because unlike the other pictures he saw from when his mother was younger, she was, surprisingly, alone with another person. The both of them were in their school uniforms, smiling as they looked at the camera.

   Behind the photograph was a short note. It was Hara’s handwriting. And it said: My Mister.

   Smiling, Jin Gook put it back. At that exact moment, his grandparents entered the room.

   “Gran, Pops, is the kind Mister Mom’s good friend?”

   The woman’s eyes twinkled, rather wistfully. “They are.”

   “Then that’s good,” Jin Gook replied. He climbed on his bed, and said, “Are we going to play something?”

<:>

   The whole place was reserved exclusively for their class, Woohyun noticed. He looked around, and as people turned their heads to look at the newcomers, they cheered with delight and raised their cups.

   “I thought Hoya was lying again when he said you’d be here!” Kibum cried, his eyes sparkling. “Look at what going abroad did to you—are you even the Woohyun we used to know?”

   He scoffed, and the two took their seats. The one across Woohyun was still vacant.

   “Since I wasn’t able to chip in with the reservation, then the food will be on me,” he offered, which caused the whole group to clap and whistle. He looked around, and finally realized that the very person he wanted to see wasn’t there.

   “Isn’t Nicole coming?” Hoya casually asked. Woohyun gave him a grateful stare.

   “She’ll be here soon,” Kibum replied.

   Woohyun noticed that the seat next to the one across him was vacant, as well. “Oh, are we missing another person?”

   “Nicole said she’d bring someone along,” their classmate filled in. “She called while buying clothes for the person. Judging that she asked me what kind of tie matches with the photograph of the suit she sent me, I’m assuming she’s going to have a guy with him.”

   Woohyun suddenly wished for the reunion to end. The food tasted like sawdust, and the beverages were nothing but a substance that seemed to scorch his throat all the more. He had no idea how long he sat there quietly, only going along if he was able to catch the gist of the hovering conversations. Woohyun was quick when it comes to catching up with things, but at that time, he couldn’t seem to cope. All because his nerves were shattered by a disturbing thought.

   At a short distance, he heard the sound of heels clacking against the polished floor. He slowly craned his neck, and saw Nicole, wearing a yellow dress (funnily enough, she could pull that color off easily). Her smile was captivating, and even her eyes showed the same warmth Woohyun felt whenever he looked at her. He was just about to smile back, when he noticed her hand was hooked on another man’s arm. He was of a short stature, with an energetic ambiance surrounding him. His lower lip protruded a little bit, and though he looked average, there was something special about the person—a certain charisma people can never seem to miss.

   The room grew quiet, but Nicole’s smile didn’t waver. Without any warning, the man bowed down, and cried at the top of his lungs, “Hello everybody! I’m Jang Dongwoo!”

"Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord!"
- Psalm 34:24