“We’re almost home, right?” Myungsoo asks, worried about time. We got off the taxi about three minutes ago and now, we’re walking.
“Calm down, okay?”
“No, I may not be able to go out with you anymore.”
“Over acting? There’s school, you’ll see me there every day. Not unless I’m sick and I have to absent myself.”
“Then don’t get yourself sick. Wait, I think I have ascorbic acid tablet here.”
“Jagi~ya, stop it. You’re paranoid.”
“Just trying to avoid complications.”
He’s very protective. He doesn’t want me to get hurt because of mistakes that we may do.
“I’m not afraid of complications.”
“Hmm?” he asks, eyes big.
“It may be hard and scary to face it, but what will we learn if we don’t?”
“Does this still concern with you being sick? Or is it a different topic already?”
“You find out,” I response with a small giggle.
“I feel it’s a different topic already.”
“And then, it is a different topic already,” I say, nodding.
“Is our conversation still making any sense?” he asks, holding my hand.
“No. It’s not making sense. I like it that way; we can keep on talking without restrictions, because we don’t really even care.”
He smiles and stops walking.
“We’re . . . You’re home!”
I look away from him and look at my right. Yes, we’re . . . I’m home.
“So, I’ll leave you here?” I nod in response.
“You know, it’s late. Would you like to spend the night here?” I ask, obviously concerned.
“I’m fine, really. I can handle myself. Seems like you have a tough boyfriend,” he says, proud.
“Tough? I doubt that. Even if you’re a guy, you’re never safe. Somebody might sneak up on you and stab you directly at your heart,” I say. It’s the truth. Even a guy is never safe.
“Don’t say that. It looks like you’re killing me.”
“I’m not. I’m just really concerned. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He sighs, “I think I’d better go before I get those words you’re saying inside my head, and before anyone could actually creep up on me.” He kisses me on my forehead and walks away. I’m sorry that I’m frustrating. I just want you safe; because I feel that I’m not.

I walk in my house and go straight to my room. I’m tired, really tired. I change into pajamas and lie on my bed. Today’s a happy day. My omma’s asleep at the other room; I guess she knows how prompt Myungsoo can be.

I lie down; time for sleep! “But, you see, I still like you.” Onew’s voice echoes in my head. I guess I’m wrong; people don’t have the courage to have the change of heart. I don’t know why but I fell really bad. For him? For me? For Myungsoo? I don’t know. Onew’s words seem to take my world by storm. Yes, I hated boys, but not because of the reason I gave him in middle school. It’s because of him. He’s pursuing me; I should be happy then, right? But his way of pursuance is something that I know would lead to something I won’t be happy with. I didn’t take the risk because I know that it’ll be painful. It’s because I already know. Maybe I should not have known. Would it be easier if I didn’t? I don’t think not knowing how it feels guarantees that. Why am I thinking about this? Such a shock to see Onew after how many years! I can’t keep this to myself; I must share this with somebody. My omma doesn’t know him . . . Sungjong does. I pick up my phone, connect to some kind of service and dial Sungjong’s number.
“Please answer. Please answer,” I say panicky. I wait for five seconds and the other phone comes alive.
“Yoboseo? Nae-rin?” he says, shocked.
“You brat! Why didn’t you call me for the past months, huh? Are you hiding from me?” I slur.
“Nae-rin, calm down. I’m sorry I haven’t. It’s just too busy here. School is different here. I hope you understand,” he says calmly.
“No! I don’t understand! You said you’ll keep in touch, why didn’t you?”
“Nae-rin, something’s wrong, I know. That’s why you’re putting your anger on me. You’re like back to our middle school days,” he says, seriously. He does know me so much.
“I am back in our middle school days.”
“What do you mean, Nae-rin? Did you time travel?”
“Sungjong, I’m not joking!”
“Then what do you mean?”
“Onew,” I say, not knowing what words to continue my sentence with.
“You saw him? You saw him, didn’t you?”
“Yes. And he said that he still,” I stop. Maybe I am over acting. Maybe it’s not a big deal at all. I am the only one making it a big deal.
“That he still loves you,” Sungjong finishes my sentence. I just nod, unable to say yes.
“You know what kind of person he is. Always pursuing and gets what he wants. It was only you who he didn’t have before; will you let him, now?” he inquires.
Will I?
“Why would I? I have Myungsoo to love and care for. I can’t be one soul in two bodies.”
“But you may be two souls in one body. One part of you may tell you love Myungsoo and the other one may tell that you love Onew.”
“Sungjong, you’re making it worst. I think you’re not helping.”
“It seems I am not. But if ever you learn to . . ,” he doesn’t continue. He is making it worst; giving me if’s that are options that I don’t want to consider. What if I learn to love Onew? I just don’t know.
“Sungjong . . . I’m tired. I’ll hang up now. Thank you for picking up your phone and listening to my naggings. You always know how to bear with me. Thank you again.”
“Nae-rin, don’t over think this. May be this is the probable reason why I have to give up loving you.”
“You gave up? Does that mean you’re tired of me?”
“No, I’m never tired of loving you. I gave up loving you because I made way for somebody else to love you more than I did.” Made way. He sacrificed his own happiness for mine.
“Thank you and . . . always know that I love you, Sungjong, as a brother. Your letter . . . thank you for that. Please find someone that will love you that way you have loved me. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”
“That I can’t be that person. That it just wasn’t me who can repay your love.” He doesn’t respond. I feel guilty again. I just can’t be that person. I’m not worth of him because I can’t love him more than he does to me.
“I hate how I love you, Nae-rin. You go to rest now. Good night. I’ll see you soon,” and then he hangs up. Yes, see you soon. For now, I’ll wait for you. Please hurry back, best.

 Somebody else will learn to love you, I just realized. It’s just sad that it’s not always the person you want to. It’s no one’s fault. And no, it’s not a mistake to love somebody, especially if you can. You can’t say that it’s unfair because it’s the same way for everyone else. You’ll learn . . . learn to love whoever you are with. I fall asleep, taking me deep into my thoughts. I drown myself to sleep with today’s memory with Myungsoo. It’s happy . . . we’re happy. I hope no one would come between us because I’m scared, I’m afraid of losing the feeling and losing him.

 

“Nae-rin, Nae-rin! Wake up, Nae-rin! You slept in. You’ve been sleeping for three days straight.”
“What?” I hurriedly sit. My head is on a roll and the room is turning around. God, I have a headache.
“What day is it? Is it September already? I hope it’s still August . . . August 29,” I say, pounding my head. Why am I even doing this? It’s giving me more headache.
“Nae-rin . . . it’s still August. Yesterday was really special, I know, that’s why you want it to occur over and over again. It’s August 30, if you’ll ask. I’m just joking. But really, you slept in. Do you have classes today?”
“Anni. It’s Saturday. People seem nicer in school. They don’t want us going to school on Saturdays.”
“That’s good. You’ll have two days off.”
“Omma, I want a pain reliever.”
“Why?”
“You startled me and I’m having a headache and body ache.”
“Okay. I just hope you’re not having a heart ache because it’s terrible than the two.”
I shake my head. Oh, stop making me use my head! My omma goes out my room and fetches me my pain reliever. My phone vibrates and I receive a test from Myungsoo. It’s odd when I look at it, because it contains the number ten. What’s with ten? My omma comes back and hands me the tablet and a glass of water. After taking it I ask her what she’ll find weird.

“Omma, what’s with ten?”
“Hmm? Ten? Isn’t it your birthday. You’re getting old.”
“That’ll be next month.”
“Yes, a next month which will be in a couple of days.”
“Or in one day.”
“Or in one day,” she repeats, walking out my room and closing the door.

My headache is subsiding. I hope my confusion is too. Taking a heavy breath, I hop off my bed and open my window. People are walking silently across the street and kids are off to Saturday day cares. Their small shrieks and laughter fill my morning. I hear my door creak open and my omma walks in and, look at whatever I’m looking at.

“You used to be like them; running down the street, always wanting to go to school first. You always race with Sungjong to school and you’ll throw a tantrum when you can’t win and bully him when you do. And on our way home, you’d ask me to buy you ice cream and when you hate it, you would put it on Sungjong’s face and he would cry home. You wouldn’t even say sorry,” my omma recalls. A smile escapes my lips and I just hoped to be a kid again, not caring with what you’ll do and you’ll never get judged.
“But you’re a grown up, now. You can’t just throw ice cream at people’s faces. People your age . . . they focus here,” she points to my head, “and especially, here,” she says, pointing straight to my heart. “Sooner enough, you’ll be able to find the pieces that perfectly fit the empty spaces. And by that time, I know I have to set you free and let you be.”
“Omma, stop thinking about that. It’s too early for that,” I say, hugging her. Smart people know not only the things taught in school . . . but also reality, which matter most more than anything else.
“I know, dear. Just . . . getting myself ready,” she says, hugging me back. I love my omma so much . . . my aphba too. I just hope he’s here to join this family hug.

“Mrs. Lee! Yoboseo?” a guy’s voice calls out. A knock or two is heard and my omma breaks free to open the door. I let her be and continue with my sightseeing. I’m happy this way, and it helps with my headache.

“Nae-rin! Somebody’s here for you!” my omma calls out. I hurriedly come out to only see Sehun, my classmate. Upon seeing him, I bow down to show respect, well, because he’s older than me. He did same, because I’m a girl. My omma leaves us and walk straight to the kitchen.

“Hi, Nae-rin,” Sehun says, rather shyly. I find this awkward because he’s not someone I can call my friend-friend.
“Uhm . . . anything wrong?” I ask. I just feel like something is wrong because he’s known as a classroom bad boy.
“Hanna Lee, I . . . I want to take her to the class ball. I just don’t know how,” he says. Bad boy’s also have weaknesses and these always concern a delicate damsel.
“Uhm . . . did you do anything about it?” He shakes his head. What the heck? I’m not a guy to counsel an inexperienced lad.
“Hmm . . . just be straightforward. Don’t be afraid being rejected,” he swallows hard. Oh, he doesn’t like rejection.
“Rejection? Is that an option?”
“In her part? Yes. But if you think of that, most definitely, you’ll get rejected. Be yourself and just go with the flow. If you get interspersed in words, you’ll be fine. Girls like blunders and they find these cute.”
“Pretty hard to do. If I was Myungsoo in some part, I would have done that sticky notes and a quadrangle confession. That would be easier,” he says.
“Originality. Do it your own way. Stuff her locker with love notes or walk by her table, leaving her milk and snacks. I don’t know,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“Isn’t that too obvious?”
“What would you prefer? The obvious or to leave her clueless? She might end up with someone else if you go for the latter.”
“The obvious. Definitely the obvious.” I think he’s forced to say the obvious.
“You can do it. Ignore this for a while,” pointing to my head, “and use this for your situation,” I say, pointing to my heart. “It’ll be easier to go with the flow of your heart.”
“Thank you for encouragement. I’m so clueless, before I think of you and Myungsoo. I went for you because you’re a girl and I think I’ll be able to figure her out through another girl’s perspective . . . since, people say that you feel almost feel the same feeling.” That’s a funny thing to consider. “So, kamsamnida,” he says, standing up and bowing.
“Chonmanayo,” I welcome him, bowing at the same time.
“If ever I can’t . . ,” he stops.
“You can come to me in school and I’ll help you with your proposal,” I say smiling. He nods and smiles. He waves a hand and leaves.

My phone rings again and it was Myungsoo. As I am about to answer it, he hangs up. Uhm, okay? Then I receive a text from him containing: Ya! Yeobo, you didn’t answer my call. What the heck? Are you serious, Myungsoo? I reply to him saying, “I am about to answer your call when you hang up. It wasn’t even ten seconds. I can’t give my immediate attention all the time. I have personal things to do, so if you can hang on longer, please do.”

“Nae-rin! Please come to the kitchen,” I hear my omma shout. I hurriedly go there, thinking something’s wrong.
“Omma, waeyo?” I ask, busting in.
“Naneun seulpeoyo (I’m sad),” she says, stirring whatever’s in the pot.
“Wae?”
“Molla. I think I just need to go back to Seosan, South Chungcheong. I would like to,” she pauses.
“Go to aphba’s grave?” I say, finishing her sentence. She nods. A half smile is on my lips and I, too, believe that I want to come with her.
“Can I come with you?” She shakes her head.
“You’ve got school and besides, Myungsoo wouldn’t like to miss you for too long. And I believe he wouldn’t like waiting as well, because he waited long enough.” Why do everything I do have to concern Myungsoo?
“Ah. Never mind him and besides, when was the last time I’ve been there?”
“Never.” Oh, really? Never?
“See? Never? I’ve never been anywhere besides Seoul. Please let me come with you.” She just shakes her head, again.
“Who will take care of the house when both of us are there? It’s not that I don’t trust anyone, but really, you can’t just trust somebody who sweet talked you. Maybe next time . . . you can ask Myungsoo to come wit hyou and introduce him to your aphba. ” I nod. Yes, I guess she’s right. I don’t want to come with her to Seosan and return to Seoul with . . . well, nothing to return to. And if I do, we’ll be a pain on the back if I ask somebody to help us.
“I guess I’ll stay. Not because you got me conscious, but because I think it’s the right thing to do.”
“Okay. I’ll go before your birthday, so that . . . I’ll look new again, well, from the pain of missing your aphba. I don’t want to welcome your friends with tears rolling down my face.”
“Okay,” I say, smiling, “Any date you’re thinking of?” I ask. I ask not because I want her to leave early, but to list down things that I can do while she’s gone.
“About five days before your birthday. Maybe on the fourth or fifth.”
“Uhm . . . okay. Five days . . . What can I do on those days?”
“It’s up to you. And . . . ask Myungsoo to go visit you or . . . accompany you all throughout,” she says, smiling, even happy with her suggestion.
“Omma!”
“Mohae?”
I just pout, not wanting to continue my sentence. What a weird omma I have! Well, at least she’s not someone who’ll starve you to death . . . actually, that’s ok . . . what I can’t bear is that she’ll starve you from love.
 

“Yeobo! Nae-rin! I’m here at the gate!” Myungsoo shouts. What now? How can he just go and shout in front of my house without telling me.

“Omma, I need to go and face my tax collector,” I say seriously.
“Why? Didn’t you pay your tax? How can you do that?” she says, jokingly.
“Well, because my tax collector is a robber.”
“What an awful person! What did he rob from you?”
“My heart,” I say. Corny, corny, corny. It , really, but I can’t help it. We burst out in laughter and stop, allowing awkward silence to make us laugh even more.
“Should I let him enter?” I ask, asking permission.
“Where are your manners, Nae-rin? Of course, you should let your namja chingu in.” I smile and walk to our gate, opening it to let Myungsoo in.

“Nae-rin, you’re still in pajamas. I texted you telling you that I’ll meet you at ten.” What?
“You texted me that? I just receive your text with the number ten and nothing else.”
“I thought you’ll get that,” he says pouting. I just look at him. You should have been more specific. Seconds later he pushes himself in and holds me by my waist that I freeze so suddenly.
“Let’s get you showered and dressed,” he tells, walking to our front door.
“What?” I shout in panic.
“Nae-rin, what were you thinking? The girls in your class got you thinking like a ert, didn’t they?”
“What? No!” Well, maybe yes. Some girls in my class are green-minded, and pretend that they’re not when they’re in front of our teachers and their parents. I hear things from them but . . . I don’t even care because I can’t relate. I’m too innocent.

“You weren’t specific. I wasn’t able to get you,” I say, as I close the door.
“Ah, never mind.” He pauses and looks around the house. Why?
“I met Sehun on the way here. Did he drop by?” he asks, sitting down.
“Yeah, he dropped by. He wants help . . . he wants Hanna Lee to be his date at the class ball.”
“Yeah, I knew that. He even wanted to have a part of me so that he’ll have courage to ask her out without going all clumsy and sort.”
“I told him to have originality and be straightforward rather than leaving Hanna Lee clueless. I told him not to be afraid of rejection.”
“Actually, I’ve got a story for that. Hanna Lee does actually want him to take her. And she would really say yes if he asks her out.”
“When did that happen?” I ask. He shrugs his shoulder and smiles. Playful life, playful love.
“I can’t tell. I promised her that I wouldn’t tell it to anyone.”
“Am I anyone? Then just tell me what you talked about.”
“I can’t”
“Why? Even just a little bit. Okay, just tell me why she went to you,” I say, now pleading.
“I don’t know. Maybe because of my confession to you, you know.”
“People idolize you for that. I mean, they just wished to be you. With all the guts to say how you feel and you . . . you’re just not afraid of rejection.”
He smiles and walks to me. Wait! I haven’t taken a shower.
“I haven’t really quite think of being me is so easy for other people. My situation is really hard, especially if your girlfriend hasn’t take a shower yet, when you plan a seven-hour trip for you two,” he says, nearing his face to mine.
I move away. “Good that you know that. Now, let me take a shower. Lessen your seven-hour trip to five and three-fourths,” I say, leaving him behind and I enter the bathroom for a clean.

 

“Where are we going?” I stop from my walking to fix my flats.
“Where do you think?”
“I don’t know. I can’t guess,” I continue to walk.
“Uhm . . . Donghae.”
“What? Donghae? Isn’t he a member of a boy group? I think you mean Hongdae.”
“Yes. I meant Hongdae.” He can’t stop minding me. A Dongjak-gu lad and he is terrible; a perfect but terrible lad.

He holds my hand and swings it back and forth. He suddenly exerts more effort that maybe in a few seconds; I’ll be able to fly off. He stops a taxi and we both go in.

“Hongdae- aiga- jusaeyo,” he says. The driver nods and starts to drive.
“Are you rich?” I suddenly ask. I ask because we keep on going to some place and he won’t let me pay.
“What?”
“You know, like we keep on going to different places and you always spend for both of us. So, are you?”
“No.”
“Then why do you . . .” he cuts me off.
“Because I want to make you happy and give you things you may want.”
“Jagi, remember what I told you before . . .  in the detention room? I told you ‘I just want you to do what you can, not push yourself to show how you feel for me,’ do you remember?”
“Oh, I have to be sorry again. I can’t seem to stop myself. I want to do things with you while I can.”
While I can? What do you mean, Myungsoo?
“Just don’t push yourself. Now, let me pay for the fare,” I say to him, sort of mad because he doesn’t take my words seriously. He falls silent. I’m sorry that it feels like I’m nagging at you, but please, you don’t have to risk what you only have for me. I can leave simply without all the luxuries, as long as there is you with me.
“I’m sorry. I’m not going to spend much again. I can get carried away most of the time that I want to give you those things that I see girls say that they want in the television.”
“I’m not like them. If you’re rich as those actors, I still wouldn’t want you to spend so much on me. Why does it seem like you don’t know me that much?”
“I do know you. It’s just it’s too plenty that I’m still on the process of . . .”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“Food?”
“Korean beef and topokki.”
“My birthday?”

“We’re now in Hongdae,” the ahjusshi utters, interrupting our conversation. I get our fare from my bag and go out the taxi immediately.
“So, my birthday?”
He looks at me, puzzled. Oh no, Myungsoo. You don’t know my birthday?
“Myungsoo, it is eleven days from now. I thought you know because you texted me ten. It’s on September 10. Myungsoo . . .”
“Mian. Oh, God. I’m sorry.” He pulls me close to him,” Come here. I’m sorry, okay? I’m too stressed out to remember your birthday. The class ball . . . it’s nearing. Why put the responsibility on me? I’m sorry I forgot about your birthday, well, at least it’s not over yet or I would have been so mad at myself not knowing when my girlfriend celebrates her day.”

I just smirk; I’m not happy now. Just take me home; I’m not enjoying this. I walk. .  .to nowhere. I’m ahead of him, I leave him behind and . . . I don’t know.

“Nae-rin,” he says gently.
“What?” I say madly.
“Nae-rin, I’m sorry okay.” I roll my eyes. Why am I even making this such a big deal? I don’t even know why. I continue to walk to nowhere.
“I wanna make you smile, whenever you’re sad,” he sings. Grow Old With You . . . what the?
“Carry you around when your arthritis is bad,” he continues. I’m not going to talk to him, not even if he sings for me around plenty of people. I keep walking, then he goes ahead of me, faces me and . . .
“Ya! Put me down!” I shout. He lifts me up, carrying me like a garbage bag, hanging on his shoulders. People are looking at us, some even are taking pictures. What? Do they find this romantic?
“Oh, all I wanna do is grow old with you,” he continues, somehow out of tune.
“Myungsoo, put me down!” I shout again. He ignores me and keeps on walking. I swat his behind and he didn’t bother. Oh, how do I get this person to let me go down?
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.” He puts me down, finally.
“You do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what point I’m talking about or you’re talking about,” I say, utterly confused. I take a deep breath. Wow, this is tiring.
“Are you still mad at me?”
“For what?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest, as if I don’t know.
“Forgetting.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He looks at me, anticipating my next words. I look to my right. What am I even talking about?
“No.”
“No, what?” he says, a small secreted smile on his lips.
“Uhm . . . yes?”
“Yes?”
“Oh, stop it! You’re making me more confused,” I move my hand around empty air, “I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. I don’t even know why I’m making it such a big deal. I feel so stupid right now and I feel as if I’m the bad girl and that I’m bullying you . . . Ah, I don’t know. What I’m doing is exasperating me,” I say to him, talking really fast and now mad at myself. I sigh heavily. Oh, gosh. Things are clenching in my chest, I’m going to burst.

He nears me and put his arms around my shoulders. He kisses my hair and I soften at his release.
“I’m sorry. I’m the worst boyfriend you could ever have.”
“I don’t even believe I’ll have someone else after this,” he laughs at my words, “Well, if ever, you know . . .”
“Oh, stop it. First and last, okay? No one else.”
“No one else,” I repeat his words.
We both fall into silence, just randomly. I look far, my head in a reverie. A blurry one, I don’t know, it’s too hazy in my head.
“Nae-rin? Anything wrong?” he asks, worried.
“Do I look like someone with arthritis?”
“Hmm?”
“The song? Why that out of all songs?”
“Haha . . . it’s cuter. I want you, lifelong,” he says, looking directly in my eyes. His look is filled with sincerity; he might need to call a cleaning aid if ever I melt. I smile suddenly.
“Are we okay now? I want to know if we are. So, are we?” he asks, worried. I shake my head. His being concern makes me wants him more even if he’s already mine. Will I ever get tired of this guy?
“So, we’re not okay?” he asks again. What do I answer?
“I don’t know.”
“So, are we between okay and not okay?”
I look at him, “More or less, yes.”
“What am I going to do with you?” he asks, running his hand on his hair.
“Are you mad?”
“Mad?”
“At me? Am I being exasperating to you now?” I feel my brows creasing on my forehead. 
“No.”
“Then ,what are you mad about?”
“I don’t even know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? I forgive you if you are mad.”
“No, not that.”
“Then what?”
“For causing confusion.”
He sighs, “Yeah, you confuse me a lot. I don’t, no, I really know who you are, and I just don’t know how to handle you. I’m not going to try to take over your life. That’s not my role. What I’ll do is . . . what I want you to do is to make yourself known to me. Please don’t be a stranger to me whenever I forget.”

My world stops at his words. I was a stranger to him just because he forgot.
“I’m sorry,” I say, tears flowing down my cheeks. I feel bad, so bad; I want to die.
“Hey, Nae-rin. I’m the one who should say that. Let’s stop this now, we’re in public. I . . . I don’t feel comfortable.”
“Why? Don’t you want people to see your girl cry?”
“No, it’s a sacred moment. Like your laughter. I want that your laughter to be only heard by me and your tears . . . I don’t want to cause them but if ever you cry again like this, I would want to be the only person to cause it and to comfort you because of it . . . Am I still making sense?”
“Maybe for some people you’re not making sense, but you are to me. I get what you’re trying to say.”
He sighs and looks around, “Hongdae’s not our place. I’ll take you somewhere else.”

He takes my hand and swings it back and forth. What do I do? Why things are suddenly complicated? Is there a reason why? It started with him forgetting my birthday to . . . almost quarreling about . . . something. Ah, Nae-rin, chill down. You wouldn’t want losing him.

“So, where are we going?”
“Pulguksa,” he says, not even looking at me.
“You mean the temple?” I say, pretending not to notice that. He nods and hauls a taxi.
“Wouldn’t you just like to go home?” I ask him, entering the car. He didn’t respond. What the? Bipolar and cold. I do not like this.

I look out the window and see people pass by and then run. It suddenly rains and people seek roof. I’m confused now, seeing the sky cry dams, I want to cry myself. I sigh, holding back the tears. I feel my hand touched and I look at it. Myungsoo intertwines his fingers into mine.

“I’m cold,” he silently protests.
I look at him impassively.
“I’m sorry,” he soundlessly mouths at me. I still look at him emotionless.
“Jebal,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
“Mohae?” I mouth at him.
“Talk to me,” worry drawn all over his face.
“I am,” I say.
“Nae-rin,” he says and is cut off when I feel my phone vibrate.

“Ah, omma? Ne?” I ask my mother.
“Nae-rin, I’m going to Seosan now. A family emergency came up. Your uncle got hit by a speeding car, but don’t worry. You’re aunts said he’s stable.”
“Omma,” I say worried.
“Nae-rin, I’ll be home in about a week or so. I don’t know if I can make it on your birthday; well, depending to the happenings here. Nae-rin, keep yourself safe. Are you still with Myungsoo?”
“Ne.”
“Please, hand him the phone.”

I look at Myungsoo and hand him the phone.
“Omma is on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”
He takes it and put himself on the phone.

“Yoboseo?” he asks, trying to see if my omma is still on the phone. I’m only hearing a one-sided conversation so I don’t know what omma is telling Myungsoo.
“Ne.”
“I will.”
“I promise. I will keep her company while you’re gone.”
“Ne,” he says then looks at me.
“She wants to talk to you now.”
 

“Omma?” I say, grabbing the phone.
“Aegi, I asked Myungsoo to keep you company while I’m gone. Like what we’ve agreed on. I told him to just sleep in our house and before that, to ask permission to his parents. He agreed to that.”  I look at Myungsoo, not believing my omma. He will just get tired of you.
“Omma,” I say, almost throwing a tantrum.
“Nae-rin, we’ve agreed on this,” she sighs, “I’m hanging up now. Take care of yourselves. Goodbye,” then she hangs up.

 

“Ahjusshi, Daebang-dong ai ga-jusaeyo,” Myungsoo utters, changing the destination.

“I think it’s better to take you home now. I bet you’ve been asking for this, moments ago,” Myungsoo says.
“Can you read minds?”
“No, why?”
“Because you’ve guessed it correctly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I know it’s disturbing to hear, but I was mad.”
“Yeah, you were.”
“Don’t try bringing it up.”
“No, I won’t, but,” he says, I cutting him off.
“No buts,” I tell, uttering like a mother who doesn’t want to hear but’s.

I look out again through the window; the rain is now getting heavy. We sit in silence, until we get to Daebang-dong.
I open the door and get myself out the taxi.
“Nae-rin, no! Wait!” Myungsoo shouts, running out the taxi.

I am now wet and I don’t care. If omma’s here, she’ll probably give a good set of spanking because she knows I’m going to get sick, like really sick.
“Nae-rin!” Myungsoo shouts and the taxi tows away.
“What?” I ask, opening our gate.
“You’re now wet,” he says and put an umbrella over my head.
“You are late.”
“I know. And I’m sorry,” he says and tows me into the house.

“Nae-rin, take a shower and get yourself dry. Now,” he says, in a somehow stentorian tone. He put his hand in front of me and in the way of begging for alms. I look at him, puzzled. He gestures a ‘give-it-to-me-now’ way. I don’t know what to give him, so I give him the key to my room. He turns around and head for my room. He enters and I am still standing still in the living room.

“Get in the bathroom now!” he shouts as if he can sense that I’m not doing what I’m told and then I’m on my feet.

“Bossy! Bossy! What a bossy boyfriend!” I mumble to myself while walking to the bathroom. Well, he may be bossy now, but in a right way. My omma would be like him if she’s placed in this situation.

Wait! How am I supposed to change clothes if he ordered me in here without even letting me bring a towel or bathrobe? NG~

I go out the bathroom and into my room. Myungsoo’s sitting on a chair beside my window and is holding a pen and writing in one of the blank notebooks on my shelf.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I approach him.
“Huh?” he looks at me and frowns, “I told you to . . .”
I hold up my towel and bathrobe as if telling him that I’d rather have these two than running around . His eyelashes flicker then he looks down on the notebook and starts to write again. I go out my room and into the bathroom to do what I was told. Warm water flows down me and I’m feeling relaxed. I feel as if a piece of me was returned without me knowing I lost it. Whatever.

I dry up, cover myself with the robe and head out. Nothing really suspicious. I enter my room and Myungsoo’s on the bed, now asleep. Was I that long in the shower? Doze off Myungsoo, dream of the things you’ll nag me once you wake up. I get some pajamas; I think I’m staying here in the house for the whole day because of the rain. I walk around my room; it’s too boring to do anything. I gaze here, gaze there, trying to get myself dizzy, until I fix my eyes on one point. I walk towards my window, my notebook bulging with the pen left between the pages. I look at Myungsoo, aware if he’s awake or not. Am I supposed to read this without his consent? Or will he let me read this after some time? Who knows? I open the notebook on the page with the pen. Half of the page is scribbled on and there are a few words I can make out: mianhae (sorry), naega michyeo (I’m going crazy), bokjaphaeyo (It’s complicated) and naneun museowoyo (I’m afraid). I can’t understand a thing, but what I can make out now is that, he is despondent. Is it because of what happened a while ago? People! Please stop making it a big deal! My pen rolls over and drop on the floor. It brushes over a sensitized monitor and it sound so loud my soul jumped out of my body and Myungsoo got up in shock. I kneel down and turn it off. I stand up and look at Myungsoo who seems like having vertigo.

“What was that?” he asks, his head bowing, his right hand covering his eyes.
“Some alarm system. Stay there, I’ll get you some acetaminophen.” I head out of my room and into the kitchen. I get a tablet and a glass of water and head back to my room. He’s in the same position when I left him.

“Here, take this,” I hand him the medicine and wait for him to drink up the water.
“What was that?” asking the same question.
“An alarm system my omma put up four months ago.” I put down the glass on my side table.
“Is it on, the whole day?”
“Pretty much, yes. On high alert when we’re not home. I haven’t turned it off because you ask me in the shower.”
“So, it’s pretty much my fault?” he asks, scratching his head. I just smile because it’s plain comical.

Myungsoo eyes searches the room and his eyes lies on the notebook. His eyes darken upon its sight: open.
“I bet you’ve read what’s written there,” he says, seriously. Damn.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’m supposed to or you’re going to let me read it anyway.”
“Come here,” he says, his arms stretched. I sit beside him, shyly. He seems mad or something.
“I’m sorry, seriously. Punish me if you have to,” I say, afraid of what I have done.
“Shhh... it’s not that. I’m going to explain to you what I have written on the notebook,” he says then stands up to retrieve it. “Mianhae, because of the confusion. Naega michyeo, because there’s so much going on and I just go crazy with everything. With you, but I don’t know if it’s the right or wrong crazy. Bokjaphaeyo, because I just don’t know anymore. Things are running complicatedly and I just don’t really know. Naneun museowoyo, because I’m afraid of losing what I worked hard for and losing the one I love because of simple misconceptions. I am . . . having a pretty hard time and I think you do too.”
“So . . .”
“As I have written in my letter in the padlock bridge, be strong with me.” Goodness, I thought he’s going to tell me it’s over. That scared the bones out of me that I’m now crying.
“Hey, Nae-rin. Why? Did I say something wrong again? If so, I’m sorry,” he says. I wave my hand in front of his face as if telling him to stop. “What? What is it then? Were you thinking . . . oh, no.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. We’re caught up in a hellish situation that I’m thinking faultily. I’m sorry.”
“Never think that way. How many times do we have to keep saying ‘First and last’?”
“Molla.”
“Nae-rin, we’re kitted out. Things are tough, but no matter how weak we seem right now, we’re held together by our faith with each other.”
“Goddess of Wisdom.”
“Mohae?”
“Athena, Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom . . . Except that you’re not a woman.” He smiles and moves towards me.
“Oh, Nae-rin, just what to do with you. How can you do that?”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know. Cry and then joke with the situation you are in.”
“Born with it maybe.” He sighs and then falls back on my bed.
“Lie down.”

And I do what I’m told. As I am about to lie down, a light flashes at Myungsoo’s face. It came out of nowhere, or it’s probably the neighbor’s lighting system. He covers his eyes with his hand. What a child he can be! He’s vulnerable. I lie down and I stretch out my arm and I intertwine my hand with his. He put his hand down together with mine and we’re seeing each other, soul to soul. I near my face to his cheek but he moves away.

“Umm . . . Umm . . . “ he utters while moving his head in disagreement. I move back.
“Cheek?”
“No.” I pout upon hearing ‘no.’
“Nae-rin, no defiance please,” he pauses for a while, no, a minute or two. I lie down, no touching or talking. We both look at the ceiling in silence. Far too long.

“Aren’t you going home? Well, if the rain somehow subsides.” I ask to break the ice.
“I will. Well, if it will subside.”
“If it doesn’t?”
“If it doesn’t, I’ll stay for a while, even if it reaches tomorrow. Wait, are you asking me to go home already?”
“No, it’s not that. Your parents, they must be worried about you now. Why don’t you call them? Tell them you’re here. Tell them you’re here because of my omma.”
“That’s funny, you telling me what to say to my parents and use your omma as an excuse.”
“Use my omma as an excuse? She’s not an excuse! She probably told you to ask permission to your parents to accompany me while she’s gone. Is that an excuse?”
“Nae-rin, chill. I’m just . . . no, it’s not because of your omma. I’m here because of you.”
“Stop saying sweet things. I can’t believe forbidden tears are slowly filling my eyes. Damn it.”
“Shhh . . .” he utters then laughs. He doesn’t like me saying things like ‘curses’ or whatever related to it. “Are you really tearing?”
“No. I don’t know. No. what the heck!” I say then laugh. There! Forbidden tears because of being overwhelmed and tears of sudden embarrassment and joys, springs my eyes. I laugh even more because of this damnation. Damnation? Is that even applicable in my situation?
“Say, the rain is sort of stopping,” he says, bolting up to sit. I follow him up. He looks at me, put his finger on my forehead and shakes his head. I look up at where his finger is meeting with my forehead and then look at him to see him smile. He pushes me down to the mattress. “Ms. Lee, I need to leave you for a while to ask permission from my parents and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
“No, take your time!” I bolt up again. He puts his finger on my forehead once again and pushes me down.
“Ms. Lee, take a rest. Don’t be a stubborn girl! Go sleep. I’ll be back, don’t you worry,” he says. He kisses me on my forehead and stands up. He turns round the corner of my bed and kneels down. Oh, the alarm system. He must have opened it again. He stands up and head for my door, lets himself out and closes it behind him. I stand up and peek out my door. As I peek, he’s already at the door, locking it, locking me in, locking him out. I close my door and run to my window, careful enough not to brush pass the alarm system. It’s still raining but nothing too harsh. He walks out my gate and head to the left. I only see his umbrella and in three seconds, he’s down the alley and out of my sight.

 

“Ah, what do I do? It’s so boring here!” I stand up from my bed. I’ve been day dreaming, no, I’ve been absentminded for one and a half hour? I don’t know. I look at my alarm clock, 3:50 pm. I’ve been home since one? I go out my room and into the living room. I open the door and peek outside, the outside world is drenched but it stopped raining, so Myungsoo won’t have a hard time heading here. Or is he not coming back? No, don’t leave me alone! I might try to talk to myself and go crazy. I go back in and walk around, sit down on our couch, then let myself slide on the floor and back on the couch and on the floor again. I stand up and sit again and let myself lie down on the floor. Ah, ottoke? I’m getting really bored! I roll on my back and then on my front; all because of boredom. I roll and roll and roll. Ah! It’s so boring! I don’t want to watch television or go online or anything. I roll again and now I’m underneath the couch. “Please open the door! Please open the door!” I mutter to myself. The door opens and in excitement, I long to stand up, only to get my head hit by the couch! I agonizingly go out the couch and Myungsoo’s standing in front of the couch looking at me.

“Nae-rin, what are you doing under the couch?” he says, kneeling down to help me up.
“Ah, it hurts,” I say, rubbing my head. Myungsoo put his hand over mine and rub my head as well. Oh gosh, this is comforting.
“Nae-rin, why are you under the couch?”
“I was bored so I went out my room and then, I walk around and then I sit on the couch and let myself fall on the floor and then I lie down and roll and roll and then, I’m underneath the couch. All because of boredom,” I sat too happily.
“I’m sorry I took long. My parents didn’t allow me to leave until the rain stops. So, I waited for it to stop. As you can see, I am carrying a luggage which my omma prepared upon hearing my permission.”
“Permission? So, they weren’t even saying ‘go ahead’ yet?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. Daebak.”
“I know. I guess that how much she likes you for me.”
“Hmm . . . Saying it too soon, eh?”
“Not really. It won’t be too soon, I bet.” My face voluntarily contorts with what he just said. My expression may probably something like “What the heck are you saying?”
“So, I’m prepared for a month long stay here,” he says proudly.
“My omma may be gone for a week or so, so a month long stay is not . . . Not,” I don’t know what to finish my sentence with. I look at Myungsoo, and he shrugs, unable to make a continuation of my sentence. Okay! Awkward.
“So, where do I stay?”
“In my house.”
“No, I mean, in which room?”
“Ah, that. You’ll stay in . . ,” I fish out my phone and speed dial my omma.

“Omma, in whose room will Myungsoo stay?” I blurt out not even saying hi or is she there yet. Meany.
“Any room.”
“What? No, in whose room? Will you let him stay him in your room?” She silences and then it rattles at the other end.
“Uhm . . . Let him stay in your room. There’s a, what do you call that? A foldable bed . . . in my closet. Ah, the disadvantage of getting old, you can’t remember even what the foldable beds are called. You just let him use that.”
“Ah, ok.”
“Nae-rin,”
“Ne, omma,” I say, risking a look at Myungsoo. He’s playing with the handle of his luggage. Oh, this time I notice he’s not sitting down. Is he waiting for me to tell him what to do?
“Don’t get disappointed if he can’t stay with you on the same bed.”
“Mo . . . Mohaeyo? Omma!”
“Just kidding dear. Oh, I’m better off then. I’m nearing our village. I may drop off at the hospital so I can get news of your uncle, okay?”
“Ne, oh.”
“Ah, Nae-rin, take care okay?” then she hangs up.

“Hmm . . . the phone call to ask which room ended up as a novel.”
“Are you mocking me and my omma?”
“Mocking? You? Why would I mock you and my dear mother-in-law?”
“In my room. You’ll stay in my room,” I say too suddenly.
“In your room? Are you serious?” he asks, surprised with that sentence. I just nod.
“Why? You don’t like? Then stay here in the living room,” I say sarcastically, trying to hide my smile but failing.
“No, I like your bedroom. Very much,” he says and heads to my room to put his luggage down.
 

He is out in a ten seconds and heads towards me and embraces me from the back.
“Hmm . . . Nae-rin, don’t you smell like the flowers growing on the mountain,” he utters, pushing his nose into my hair.
“No,” I say inanely, “My shampoo’s scent is strawberry.” Myungsoo lets out a loud sigh that some strands of my hair flies to my face. He buries his nose somewhere near my ears and he shakes his head as if going mad, good mad.
“Oh, Nae-rin, what to do with you?”  What a conversation! So nonsensical!

I suddenly feel childish, as if I’m up for games. I release myself from his embrace and take a step forward and turn around to face him. I look straight at his eyes, as if taunting. He moves forward, probably a little too near. I take a step back and he smiles.

“Tag! You’re it!” I say, touching him on his arms and run away. I run into the kitchen and hide behind the table. I peek at the leaving room and there he is standing, probably processing the situation he is in. Suddenly, he looks in my direction and runs toward me. I don’t know where to go so I crawl underneath the table. Good thing nothing was on top of the table or else, I’ll surely pay. I hurriedly stand up and run to my room. I look behind me and there he is, about two meters away from me and I run in my room. I close the door, but he got hold of it and forces himself in.

“No!” I shriek.
“Hey! That’s cheating!” he says, trying to push the door open while I’m trying to push the door close.
“No, it’s not!” I say pushing the door close, harder.
“Nae-rin,” he shouts and drops to the floor. I open the door and look out. He’s down on the floor in agony. I kneel down.
“Myungsoo! Ya! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask, lifting his face so I can examine him. His eyes finds mine and he stares at me for a while.
“Nae-rin,” he whispers.
“What?” His eyes were sort of shutting. I’m seriously panicking.
He lets out a heavy breath, “You’re it!” he touches my cheek with a very wide grin on his face. In a second he’s up and behind the couch.
“What?” I say with eyes wide, utterly shocked. “How? What the? You cheated! Well, yeah! I was worried.”
He smiles, probably touched by my last sentence. Oh, Myungsoo, I can do flattery. “Nae-rin, what? Are you just going to sit there?”
“No!” I say, standing up, “Just wait until I tag you.”
“Well, that’s if you tag me,” he says, mocking me. Upon saying that, I rush to him.

He runs away, not really away. He just runs around the living room in circles. Maybe for ten times? Which is, by the way, making me really dizzy.
“You’re going nowhere.”
“Exactly!” He says, stopping his run.
“What?” He grins at me widely, and then he opens his arms. My brows crease as if questioning. His hand gestures “come to me.”
I can’t hide my smile and run into his arms. He folds his arms around me and it feels welcoming and really comforting.
“Tag! You’re it!” I whisper to his ears. I can feel him smile behind my neck. He embraces me harder, I can’t breathe.
“Myungsoo! I can’t breathe!” I tell him, my breathing starting to rag. He releases me, but holds my arms and examine me at arm’s length.
“So,” he looks at his wristwatch, “It’s about 6 and I’m hungry, shall we cook dinner?”
“Cook?” He nods and regards his head to the window. It’s still raining and I bet people are flooding ramen restaurants, all seeking shelter and something to warm their stomachs with.
“Okay. I think we have the ingredients for kimchi stew or we’ll just go for instant ramen noodles, if not.”

He turns me around and holds me at my shoulders like a train. He walks me to the kitchen by pushing me. He stops and opens the cupboards. What the heck!

“Do you know where the ingredients and pots are placed?” I ask. He closes one of the cupboards and it lets out a loud ‘bang’ sound. I turn around to look at which of the cupboards was it. Oh, the nearly broken cupboard.
“Sorry about that.
“Nah. It’s going to break anyway,” I say coolly.
“What?”
“So, what do you want?” Obviously changing the subject.
“You, what do you want?”
“You are my guest so you don’t ask me what I want. I’ll eat anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yeah, anything,” I pause. What is he trying to imply? That I can eat chairs, spoons and soaps? “Anything edible.”
“Ah, okay. Just kimchi stew. We can get full with that,” he says with a smile. Yeah, that’s what he’s trying to imply.

He opens my fridge and takes out kimchi and other ingredients. He gets a bowl and filled it with water.

“Do you have ramen powder?”
“Ramen powder?” He nods. “What are you going to do with the ramen powder?”
“Mix it in, for a little taste. And curry powder.”
“Ah, ok.” I walk to one of the cupboards and reach up to get the bottles which contain both powders.
“Here you go.”

He opens the stove, put on the pot and pour all the water from the bowl. He waits for it to boil before he adds the other ingredients.
“Watching silently, hm?”
“Hmm? What?”
“I said you are watching silently and probably intently.”
“Yeah. Can’t wait for you to finish it. I’ll be the judge of your kimchi stew,” I say, holding a large spoon, probably the one used for serving.
“Are you going to eat with that,” he says with a smile on his face. I shrug my shoulder. He lets a smirk and turn to his dish.
“It’ll be done in a bit. So you wait, until it dries up,” he says, in sarcasm.
“The irony is not lost on me. You can’t call stew without the broth.”
“I guess you are right. It’s nearly done,” he looks at it, pauses for about five seconds and turns off the stove, “There, it’s really done.” I hand him a potholder and he places it on top of a wooden place mat on the table. I get two bowls, two pair of chopsticks and two spoons. We both sit down.

“So, let’s eat?” he asks.
“Yes, please,” I say politely, as if being asked by my father. Oh. I don’t know how that feels. He serves me some on my bowl and hands it to me and I do same.

Silence falls on us while eating. I’m getting bored again, same in the restaurant during our monthsary. I look at him and find him looking at me too. I look down and back to him again. He’s still looking. Okay, awkward. I bow and continue eating, probably a little too fast.

“Slowly,” he says. I look up at him and he just continues staring at me. He smiles after three seconds when I can almost throw up because of the awkwardness running between us.
“Sit up,” I do what he told me what to do. “Continue eating, slowly. Don’t stuff things in your mouth. You wouldn’t like choking yourself.” I nod and continue eating and he does too.
“Well, you’re boring me,” I say, almost finishing my stew.
“Am I?” he asks, eyes wide.
“Sometimes. No, every time we eat you’re just taken into the food that I think you’re floating to heaven already.”
“Hmm . . . Do I eat that way?”
“Yep. Pretty much.” He silences, looks at his food and looks at me.
“So, how’s your day?” he says, his hand under his chin. He looks at me intently, waiting for an answer.
“What the? You’re asking me that question? Seriously? Myungsoo, finish your food,” I say, removing his hand under his chin while uttering my last sentence.
He pouts and suddenly talk, “I thought I’m boring you.”
“While eating. I’m done. I’m finished,” I tell him, showing him my bowl.
He peeks into the pot and looks at me, “Then eat some more.” He gets my bowl serves me some and put it in front of me. “There. Eat and get bored and then I’ll entertain you.”

This guy is annoying me . . . and I can’t believe he’s my boyfriend. I pout at him and his lips jolts up into a smile. I slowly eat. Jeez, I’m really full. I can’t eat this anymore.

“There, I’m boring you again. So, how’s your day?” he asks me.
“Bipolar,” I tell him.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he says. I look up at him. My eyes meet his and something tells me that he’s blaming himself.
“You’re blaming yourself for it?” I ask, looking at my food. Two to three bites and I’m done.
“And you’re going to tell me to stop it?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m not blaming myself.” Oh, for my sake. I look at him again. His lips quirks up an apologetic smile. “So, are you done eating?” His change of subject.
I look at him and at my food and continue eating. “There, I’m done.”  I show him my bowl and he puts his hand on my head and pats it.
 

“I’m bored,” I tell him.
“You are?” he asks. He brushes his hand on my hair. He’s sitting on our couch and I am lying my head on his lap.
“Yes. Pretty much. Or maybe I’m getting sleepy with you brushing my hair.” He stops brushing and looks at me. I peek at him and he shakes his head. What now? He pinches my cheeks. It hurts. A bit.
“Are you still sleepy? After I pinch you?”
“Yes,” I say sleepily. He moves down then kisses my forehead.
“Then let’s go to sleep.” I sit up and he stands up. He helps me up and we go to my room.

He helps me lie down. I don’t have a broken back or something . . .
“Go to sleep,” he tells me. He walks to the door.
“Oddiga?”
“I’m just going to lock the gate and the door. I’ll check if we unplugged the appliances.” I nod and he goes out. But he returns after a second and closes the light. Thank goodness, he’s thoughtful. Before I can start with my daydreaming, I drift off into a sleep.

I feel uncomfortable. I turn and my right arm falls weak beside the bed and my bed creaks as I turn. Someone groans and I look at the floor. Oh, Myungsoo. I totally forgot about him. He’s sound asleep until my ruthless arm hit him at his chest. I move my hand up to his face. I cup his cheeks into my hand. He looks peaceful this way. Not the way I treat him hours ago. I brush my thumb against his cheek. What am I to do with him? What am I to do with me? I admire his face long enough to allow myself to sleep. His hand holds mine. That startled me. I got him awake, but his eyes remains closed. He pushes his face into my hand and he pushes my hand to his face, as if both entities are pulled together. His eyes suddenly flutters open.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he says, finding it hard to speak.
“Yeah, I suddenly feel uncomfortable so I turned around and accidentally hit you on the chest.”
“So, that was you,” he says, forcing a smile. His eyes are starting to close, “You go to sleep,” he says, his hand rubbing my knuckles.
“Ara,” I say and his hand releases mine. I peek at him below my eyelashes and I’m back to sleep.

~ 1 Day After~

 “Nae-rin, wake up! We’re going to school now! Nae-rin,” Myungsoo utters.
“Anniyeo! Shirreo!” I mumble.
“Nae-rin!” he shouts, now mad.
“Eeeee….,” Oh, Myungsoo, can you blame me? I forgot about our homework on Saturday night and I spent my Sunday doing the research. Grrr . . .
“Nae-rin, get up!” he says, shaking the bed.
“Okay, okay!” I say struggling to sit up. My back is aching like hell. Myungsoo helps me up and goes out the room. I stare blankly out the window. It’s still dark outside. It’s probably about five. I stand up and get on with the day.

 

“So, where not going to school for school?” I ask Myungsoo. He tells me that we’re doing the preparations for the Class Ball today and tomorrow. The Class Ball will be on Wednesday.
“Ne,” he replies simply. I just nod. Okay, makes sense.
“So,” I mutter silently.
“I don’t have anyone else in mind. You will be my date,” he pauses walking and I follow, “Got the wrong sentence. Will you be my date?”
I try to suppress a laugh. “Is that a question?”
“Yes.” I want to burst laughing.
“Myungsoo, you know the answer,” I tell him.
“I want to hear it from you.” I roll my eyes. Gosh, he’s very pushy.
I look at my right side and then at him. I stare at him for merely five seconds and then smile. “Yes, I will be your date. I don’t have anyone else in mind. If I do,” his eyes immediately grows big, “If I do, it’ll still be you.”
“Good choice,” he says, clinging his arms into mine.
“Good choice? You’re the best choice I’ve made. If I have rejected you, God, so help me.” He manages a laugh and we start to walk to school. A busy day is ahead of us. He’ll be busy ordering people around and I’ll be busy, doing things. Can things remain this way?

 

“Nae-rin, go up!” Sungkyu, my classmate shouts at me. He’s really, you know, cranky.
“I might fall!” I shout at him. I’m barely six steps up the ladder.
“For God’s sake! I’m down here. I’ll catch you when you fall.”
“I don’t believe you,” I say. His face suddenly goes straight that I can’t help but laugh.

“Hyung! Just let her be, she might really fall,” Myungsoo appears from somewhere. Sungkyu just left. God! How do I go down? There’s no one supporting the base of the ladder. Myungsoo stands one meter away from the ladder.
“Myungsoo,” I utter. I’m really trembling and I feel like falling.
“What?” he says. He’s just looking at me.
“I think I’m going to fall.” He walks to me and hands me his hand. He helps me down and seriously, it’s safer down here.
“You’re a killjoy,” he tells me.
“What? You’re enjoying discomfort at my expense?”
“Not really. I’m expecting you to really fall and I’ll catch you.” I look at him straight and very disapprovingly.
“What if you didn’t catch me?” I say, pointing out something he can possibly do. He freezes in front of me and I know I caught him off guard again.
“Myungsoo, aptness of things to do in specific situations,” I say holding his hand. Oh, my Myungsoo. He’s just silent. God!
“Myungsoo,” I say. He’s just silently standing, looking down. He won’t talk. He won’t talk. Myungsoo, talk!
“Ya! Kim Myungsoo! L! L! L! L! L!” I shout. He got startled and he releases my hand.
“What was that?”
“You’re not answering me. I know you won’t talk again. So . . . rather than getting silent as well, I better call your attention by calling your name repeatedly.”
He closes his eyes then sighs. When he opens them, they are back into being cheery and being Myungsoo. His lips twitch up into a smile.

“Oh, Ms. Lee Nae-rin, it’s hard ignoring you,” he says, clasping my right hand.
“Oh, Mr. Kim Myungsoo, I can’t stay mad at you. It’s even hard getting mad at you,” I say, holding his hand tighter.
“Let’s get back to work. You’re being such a bad influence; you’re keeping me away from work.”
“Ditto.” He smiles, looks around and pushes me away. I pout at him and he just put his tongue out. He turns back and walks toward his group of friends.
“What the heck do I do?” I shout. My classmates looks at me, startled with my sudden shout. Myungsoo turns around and looks at me. His friends too are looking at me. Sungkyu’s eyes were, as usual, just a line. How does he see things with those pair of eyes?
“Get back to work people!” Myungsoo shouts. They turn around and some hesitates. I don’t care whatever they do. Myungsoo walks towards me. You’re in deep trouble Nae-rin! He looks at me and tilts his head to the right side.
“You won’t let me climb up the ladder to set-up the lights,” I explain.
“Because you might fall again. You just get the rest of the lights and the extra bulbs in the storage room. In that way, you won’t fall or anything, okay?” I nod. I thought he’s going to make me appear like a housewife. That’s like . . . so boring. I walk to the school building. Why do we have to do it in the field? We can do this Class Ball in the auditorium. Gah . . .

I enter the storage room and look around. Everything is neatly organized. A box on the top shelf has LIGHTS written on it. That would be it, most probably. Question is how do I get up there? There’s a ladder here, but I won’t bother going up that thing if I’m all alone. I walk to the door and peek out. People, people, where are the people? Oh, there’s one.

“Excuse me! Sir!” I shout at the person. He turns around and I just freeze.

What is he doing here? How…?

“Nae-rin, I’m searching for you. People tell me you’re here, but on the field. What are you doing in the hallway?” Onew asks. He walks toward me and stops. A flashback occurs. The monthsary, that day, when I first met him after years.
“Nae-rin, are you okay?” he examines my face, not touching.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say, gaining consciousness.”What are you doing here?”
“Well, as I have said, I was searching for you,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Because . . .” I cut him off. So mean of me, cutting him when I ask for an answer.
“Lights! Damn! The lights!” I shout. I run back to the storage and set up the ladder. I’m not going to ask help from him. No, I won’t.

I hear footsteps behind me and then Onew’s beside me.
“You wouldn’t like falling off that thing. Here, let me help you,” he says. Pushing me gently aside, he climbs up the ladder. “Nae-rin, would you be kind enough to steady the base for me?”
“Yes. Yeah, sure,” I say. And in cue, I hold the ladder steady as he grabs the box.
He climbs down swiftly.
“Here,” he says, showing me the box.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the box. He moves away and shakes his head. “Onew, what was that?”
“Well, I came here to talk with you but instead I helped you get the box. And I know that if I just give you the box, you’ll just go away and coming here will be a waste of time.” I gasp because that’s what’s in my mind. I don’t want encountering him. He tilts his head to the right and then smiles.
“Come. I’ll accompany you to your field, so we can talk on the way there.” Talk? I’m not ready to talk about anything with him.
“If I refuse, you won’t give me that box, right?” I say, too quietly. He looks up as if thinking.
“Yes.” There it goes. I’m dead for sure; Myungsoo would have his eyebrow shot up and he’ll be nagging me when he sees me with my former suitor. Jeez .  . . He’ll be a child once again.
“Nae-rin, lost in a reverie?” Onew says.
“No,” I say, probably too defensive.
He walks out the door and I follow him. I’m looking down at the floor. Looking at him reminds me of the last sentence he said the last time we met. But, you see, I still like you.
“Worried about your boy seeing you with me?”
“What?” I say, turning to him with my eyes big.
“Am I right?” he asks, teasing. Seriously?
“Onew, stop it. It’s not . . .”
“Nae-rin, you never stop over thinking, do you?” I look at him, not knowing what to say. He knows me pretty well. As if I’ve spend most of my life with him. I used to.
“I . . .” I don’t know what to say.
“Nae-rin, keep it. Maybe it’s wrong . . ,” he pauses and looks at me a little bit too tenderly, “Maybe it’s wrong . . . to keep your boyfriend waiting.” He smiles at me a delicate one. Why is it that talking with him now makes me feel guilty in not loving him the way he loves me?
“Nae-rin,” Onew says, slowly bashing his lashes. Oh, I didn’t know I was staring at him.
“Oh, sorry,” I mutter.
“Come on. Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting for you and your lights. I’ll still carry this for you, though. If you argue, maybe we’ll get to the field after a year. So don’t plan doing so.” I nod. I don’t want to argue . . . I don’t want to talk. Onew is just one sweet person. I don’t what will happen if I spend time with him.

We walk to the field silently. I walk ahead of him, well, obviously he’s not from here.
“Nae-rin! You got the lights?”Sungkyu’s voice booms out of nowhere and in a second, appearing from my left. Sungkyu stops in front of me and looks pass me. At Onew.
“Yeah, I got the lights,” I say a little bit too happily. Sungkyu looks at me as if asking who the person behind me is. I look at Onew and he looks at me. I look away, fixing it on Sungkyu.
“Oh, sorry. Hi, I’m Lee Jin-ki. Nae-rin’s friend,” Onew says, offering his hand to Sungkyu for a handshake. Sungkyu put his hands up with a smile then point to the box. Onew smiles and then nods as if agreeing that a handshake could make the box fall off his hands.
“Nae-rin, you better go to the field now. The posts and wirings are already set up. The lights would go around the posts. Myungsoo’s waiting,” Sungkyu says then leaves us behind.

“Seems like people won’t stop paging you, do they?” Onew says with a gentle smile. The awkwardness between us just makes me smile for unknown reasons.
“And you’re one of them,” I say, trying to look impassive.
“Yeah. I’m one of them. And look, here’s one coming to look for you,” he says, looking straight.

I turn to see Myungsoo walking towards us. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s expressionless. I’ll settle down with I’m-not-happy-you’re-with him.
“Myungsoo,” I say, trying to calm him if ever he’ll get mad or anything.
“Nae-rin. Onew, good to see you again. What are you doing here?” he says, losing up a little.
“I was looking for Nae-rin. I thought of catching up with my friend,” Onew says. Jeez . . . I’m sorry Onew. Please hold on to the box for a second.
“Not a bad idea. I heard you used to be her suitor,” Myungsoo brings that topic up.
“Myungsoo!”
“What? I’m sorry. Onew, sorry. I guess that’s too personal,” he says, a little happy with what he said. I run my hand through my hair because he’s maddening me, like hell.
“Onew, sorry about that,” I say, ignoring Myungsoo’s presence.
“No big deal,” he says, smiling apologetically.
“Onew, I’m still the boyfriend,” Myungsoo suddenly says. ! Shut up, Myungsoo!
“I get that,” Onew says. I know he’s hating the situation he’s in right now.
“Will you excuse me?” I say, now angry. “You may go now. I’ll talk to you soon,” I say, taking the box from Onew and walk away.

As I walk away, I sneak a look behind me to see Onew turning away, scratching his head and Myungsoo walking toward me. Myungsoo’s being mean. I know how I don’t like talking with Onew, but he’s . . . he’s a friend who wants to catch-up with a friend who he didn’t see for years. Myungsoo’s possessive, but he said that I’m not his yet, well in terms of things he didn’t mention. So he has no right to treat anyone that way. Jealous or not.

“Nae-rin! Hey! Stop,” he says, running in front of me and stopping. I look at him, infuriated.
“Look, I’m sorry. That ‘suitor’ thing got me carried away,” he said, pointing out what’s obvious.
“I know and it’s very wretched.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just afraid he’ll take you away from me. I wouldn’t want that. Would you?” That question; people saying what they feel and asking you what you’d do if you’re in their situation.
“I don’t want that to happen. It’s just that you . . . you were obviously trying to piss him. You’re making yourself bad in front of people to avoid losing me and you doing that make them think you’re not worth of me if that’s how you react to things.”
“I was childish. I am childish, I’m sorry, again.”
“We both have catching up to do with each other. So, I’m sorry for not saying things to you.”
“Don’t be. You admitted that he’s your former suitor. That’s more than enough.”
“No. He said something else.” Should I tell him how Onew feels about me? Should I?
“What is it?”
“That he still . . . he’ll still talk to me soon. You’re my boyfriend, I get that, and he gets that. So don’t get mad if we talk to each other. We’re just talking and catching up with each other. Thinking of it, I knew very little of him. I doubt calling him a friend.”
He forces a shy smile, both apologetic and ludicrous.
“Let’s go?” he asks. I nod and he gets the box from me and continues with our work.

“Then what should I do?” I ask. Seriously, I’m not doing any part for this program. He still won’t let me climb the ladder or the designs.
“You …,” he pauses, looks at his pile of papers, “You go call the catering service. Here are the food selections. You just ask them how much the menus cost. Our budget for food is W 140,000. You just list down the menus that we can pick from, considering the budget. Then we’ll discuss it with the officers.”
“Ne.” He talks like a certified C.E.O. He gives me paper with the number of the catering service.

“Aneonghaseo, Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House. How may I help you?”
“Ah, ne. I’ve heard that you do catering service and I would like to inquire.”
“Ne. We have selections of Hansik (Korean food), ranging from the specialties from each provinces.”
“Okay, I would like to ask how much,” I look at the paper Myungsoo gave me, “Ulsan food variety be.”
“Ulsan is W 180,000.”
What?  How do I appear to be not so surprised by the price?
“Uh, okay. Would you tell me the food varieties and there prices?”
“Yes, ma’am. Busan W 150,000. Daejeon W 140,000. Seosan W 140,000. Incheon W 130,000. Gangwon  W 125,000.”
“Okay, thank you. We’ll just call you back when we’ve decided which selection we will pick.”
“Yes, ma’am. May I ask if you would like to reserve the slot for the catering service? There are many customers who inquire here and if the slot is not reserved, it would often run out.”
“Ah, yes sure. Good suggestion. Please do reserve a slot for us.” Who would want starving during a party?
“When will this be?”
“On Wednesday. At 7 in the evening.”
“Under whose name will this reservation be?”
“Kim Myungsoo.”
“Mohae?”
“Kim Myungsoo.” I hear a gasp in the end of the phone. There was no reply for the next five seconds. “Yoboseo?”
“Ah, ne? Mianhae. Kim Myungsoo, it is.” Her cheery voice disappears.
“Would that be all?” I ask. Something is wrong. Wrong . . . with the girl.
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll await your call.”
“Thank you.” Then I hang up.

“Kim Myungsoo,” I repeatedly utter. What’s with his name that makes girls gasp? People say his name is one of the ugliest. Okay? If the girl knows him then…she’s his friend. But he never told me that he has girls as friends. Or there are plenty Myungsoo’s out there and she probably thought I’m referring to someone she knows. That should be it.
“Kim Myungsoo,” I say again, now in a hush manner.
“Nae-rin,” a voice says.
“What?” I shout. Jeez… it’s just Myungsoo. “What are you doing?”
“No, what are you doing? Why are you repeatedly saying my name? Shirreo!” This reminds that night when he dropped me off my house and said that it is with my name that he’ll tie the ribbon with. It didn’t actually make sense until he shouted to my omma, “Omma! I’ll marry your daughter!”
“Come on. I like saying your name the way you like saying my name. Now, here is the list of the food selections. I crossed out two because they’re over the budget,” I say, handing him the list I made.
“What would that be?”
“The Ulsan and Busan varieties… Sir.” He looks at me with eyebrows meeting as if asking what I just said. I shake my head to rid off that thought or else he’ll bug me asking why I addressed him as ‘Sir.’
“So definitely, they’re way over. What do you think about the other selections?”
“Good. I think. I’ve never been to any place than Seoul, even if one of the selections is my province. What’s the difference? They’re all Hansik. They’re probably cooked in a different way and seasoned in a different way, but they’re still Hansik. Kimchi is kimchi. Topokki is topokki. Samgyupsal is samgyupsal.”
Myungsoo pinches my cheek and shakes his head with a smile.
“Sorry, what do I know? I’ve never been to any place to taste the food they serve.”
“I’ll take you soon, to any place you want.”
“Myungsoo,” I scold.
“Ne, omma. I won’t take you anywhere until I get a job.”
“Good.” Two can be bossy at the same time, well, resulting into good things if not done in a company. Literally speaking.
“So, let’s tackle this with the officers?” I nod because we’re running out of time.

 

“Why do I allow him to overstay? Darn. Now, I’m going home alone,” I mutter to myself. I get my phone to inform Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House the menu we’ll take.
“Aneonghaseo, Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House. How may I help you?” a guy’s voice answers.
“Ah, ne. I called earlier and Ms. . .”
“Oh, Ms. Bae Suzy assisted you. She left, filing an immediate leave.”
“Is that her? Okay. It was her who assisted me and I reserved a slot for a catering service.”
“Whose name is it reserved?”
“Mr. Kim Myungsoo’s.”
“Oh, Myungsoo.”
“Ah, ne. We would like the catering service to serve Seosan’s food. Does that include everything? I mean, from appetizer to dessert maybe?”
“Yes, ma’am. From appetizer, side dishes, main course, beverages and dessert. The dessert would be homemade Korean ice cream.” I can’t help but laugh because I’m getting really hungry.
“Uhm . . . excuse me? Yoboseo?”
“Ah, mianhae. Talking about food makes me hungry.” The guy at the end of the line softly laughs.
“Would that be all?”
“Ah, yes. I’ll drop by later today to pay in cash.”
“Oh, sure ma’am. Your name please?”
“Name?”
“Yes, ma’am. So you’ll be assisted quickly.”
“Ah, okay. Lee Nae-rin,” I say slowly.
“Nae-rin?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Ms. Lee Nae-rin, we’ll be expecting for you.” They hang up and I do too. I handle the money now and it’s tiring going home to change and go to Yongsang-gu just to pay for our food for Wednesday.

Someone’s in front of my house and it’s unusual for someone to visit because we know very few people here in Seoul.
“Chogeeyo?” I ask the person as I slowly approach . . . her. She turns to look my way and smiles. She walks near me, holds me at my arms then pushes me into a hug. She releases me and smiles again. Her expression looks like as if she’s waiting a response from me.
“Ah… Nuguseyo?” I ask, shyly. Hope she’s someone I know, should know and would want to know, because if not, God, sorry, but I have to push her away.
“Da (me)? Myungsoo’s omma,” she says smiling. Dismissing idea.  I gasp realizing it is Myungsoo’s omma.
“A-Aneonghashimnikka!” I say, bowing. She smiles and suddenly her eyes grows big.
“So, you have a dress for your Class Ball?” she asks.
“A- A- Anni,” I say shyly. I’m really embarrassed right now. Shish! Maybe I should have said that I have so she won’t think that her handsome son’s girlfriend is so shabby she wears dresses she wore for four years since she got it.
“Good!”
“Ne?” I ask. Did she just say ‘good’?
“I can take you shopping. Sons. God, you can’t actually dress them in both pink and floral. Maybe I can have a baby girl for a day, if that’s okay with you.”
“Aegi yeoja (baby girl)? Da (me)?” I say, pointing a finger at myself. She nods happily. I’m not used with my omma babying me, what more if it is my namja chingu’s omma? Aish!
“Aah . . . Ne,” I say simply. I can’t decline this. It’s my first time meeting her and I guess, with what she did for Myungsoo the other day, she really . . . likes me for him! Point!
“So, should we leave? I know Myungsoo won’t come home until eight so let’s maximize our time in finding a dress and probably a pair of shoes for you,” she says.

“Heungbundoeyo!” she says, as we drop off at a mall in Jamsil, I think. Not familiar with Seoul.
“Ne?” Did she just speak informally?
“Heunbundoeyo! Speaking formally, jeez, I just feel old when people talk to me that way. I just allow few people to talk to me informally, though. And you’re one of them. I’ll allow you to take to me as if I’m your best friend, well, as for now,” she says. Now I know that there’s a person who inherited this ‘marital’ thinking. I just nod; there is nothing to say, really. “So, let’s go in?”
“Ah, jakaman. Please don’t, uhm . . ., spend much on me. I’m not that materialistic. I will pay half for both dress and shoes,” I say, halting our walk. She shakes her head in disagreement.
“Shhh . . . I can see a pretty girl in front of me and on that special day, I want Myungsoo to unexpectedly see a goddess. You are worth it, I know. I would want you for him,” she says, in an unforeseen conclusion.
“Ah,” I just gasp in speechlessness. “Kamsamnida,” I say bowing. My smile is just brimmed. I can’t stop smiling; this is too much happiness.
“Okay, get over with it. I’ll find you the perfect dress and make you a debonair.” She nods and walks ahead. Negativity sets in too suddenly. Why exactly is she saying these things?
 

“Black, white or blue? And tube or with straps?” she asks.
“Ah, molla . . . ~yo?” separating the informality from my words. “I don’t know what suits me. Can you please pick for me?”
“Let’s say . . . all. So whatever you’ll feel wearing this Wednesday, you can just wear it.”
“Anni. Just one, please. Two  or three is too much. Just one dress,” I beg of her.
“I’ll pay. And besides, are you working already that you can sustain your needs and wants? Let me do this for you. Say buts and I’ll get caught by Myungsoo for stealing you,” she says with a smile. She’s right’; if we argue about his we’ll take forever to settle down and Myungsoo will know that I’m not home yet. He’ll probably get paranoid thinking I’m kidnapped or what.
“White and blue. And straps. Those two. I’ll pay half,” I say too insistently. My words are just mixed up. I don’t know if I should mix formality and informality when talking with her.
“No, pay one-fourth,” she say. One fourth? God, I can’t believe I’m computing in my head.
“See? I’ll pay all. Stop insisting. I’m your omma number two, so you must follow me. Arrachi?”
“Omma number two?” Oh, good gracious! What’s with the world?
“I’ll pay these and you get dressed,” she says and I hear footsteps walking away.

I step in my skirt, zip it up and put on my top. I’m still in my uniform and I feel dirty. Uniform! I hurriedly fix everything. The catering! I almost forgot about it. I run out and stop at the counter.

“Ahjumma! I need to go to Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House. I forgot about paying for the catering. I have to leave, mianhamnida,” I say.
“No, go. I’ll just follow. Since we’re not that far from Yongsang-gu, I’ll just catch up and maybe, buy some take home,” she says with a smile.
“Komawo,” I say and scoot away to that restaurant.
Run, Nae-rin, run! I mentally chant. Okay, I am near that restaurant; just three more blocks.

Upon nearing it, I grabbed the door in haste to open it and why I did, people are staring at me with eyes wide. One of the waiters almost dropped the glass he’s getting. ‘No tsunamis, guys!’ I am thinking. Oh, this embarrassing. I bow in apology and run to their ‘reception desk.’

“Aneonghaseo, welcome To Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House. How many seats?” the girl asks.
“Bae Suzy! I thought you’re on your leave? What are you . . . ah,” a guy in a stylish suit halts his shouting when he sees me.
“A- Aneonghaseo. Welcome to Hansik House . . . Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House,” he says, bowing.
“Ah, komawo. I am going to pay for a reservation, the one under Mr. Kim Myungsoo’s name,” I say happily. “Welcome to Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House,” Jeez. . .How many times did I hear this sentence today? It’s annoying that I memorized it already.
Both their eyes grew big suddenly. Kim Myungsoo, what is with your name?
“Ah, chogeeyo, I’m going to pay for a reservation,” I’m feeling uneasiness.
Ms. Bae Suzy suddenly smiles but I know that she’s bothered.
“Ms. Lee, I’m the one who you talked with a while ago, telling you’ll pay.”
“Oh, that guy.” I say smiling, but it’s awkward.
He nods and smiles, “Oh, please follow Ms. Bae. She’ll show you everything you would need in the service and then you can get down into negotiation and then the payment. And then we’ll get everything done on . . . Wednesday.”
“Thank you,” I say smiling and then, following Ms. Bae.

“Ms. Lee, please follow me to the boardroom.” Boardroom? A restaurant has a boardroom?
“Uhm . . . Why the boardroom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t explained yet. Uhm . . . the courses for the selection you chose is presented in there. You may test all it and tell us which to serve on your event. After it, we will work on the papers,” she says.
“Okay. Please lead me,” I say with a smile.

She walks in a room and she’s right; waiters come in and out, placing food on the table. Good luck taste buds!
I taste everything. Argh . . . I can’t believe I’m so happy. This is heaven.
“Ms. Lee, I would like to ask. What’s your relationship with Mr. Kim Myungsoo?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Uhm . . . nothing. I just know a person with that name and I have a feeling that he’s the same Myungsoo I know.” The Myungsoo topic is suddenly horrific.
“Here, he’s the Kim Myungsoo I’m referring to when making a reservation,” I show her a picture of him . . . together with me. I want to bug her for her to stop asking things about my Myungsoo.
She smiles, “Oh, I know him. I’m right. He’s the one!”
I sense something wrong. Bad butterflies swarm my stomach, bugging me, making me want to throw up everything I ate.
“He’s my boyfriend,” I say.
“Boyfriend? Ah . . . I, uhm . . . He and I used to be friends. Haha . .,”she says, suddenly feeling uneasy. I can tell, it’s so obvious.
“Used to be,” I whisper to myself.
“Ne?”
“I wish to pay. Everything’s fine. Serve everything on Wednesday. Please serve for 90 people.”
“For 90 people? Yes, Ms. Lee.” She gives me a paper and I read everything written on it. Food selection, the food, number of servings, the amount, date and venue; everything’s arranged. I write my name and sign over it.
“Ms. Bae, here’s the payment.”
“Ms. Lee, here’s your receipt. And just call me Suzy. Calling me a miss makes me feel old. And I’m just a girl . . . still obsessing with simple things,” she says. Sounds childish!
 “Okay, Suzy. We’ll be expecting your service on Wednesday.”
“Definitely. You wouldn’t regret picking Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House to serve you meals. You’ll definitely enjoy your night.”
“If you say so. Thank you for assisting me into this. I’ll . . . uhm, see you soon.” I say that not actually liking it. I shake her hand and she escorts me out.

“Nae-rin! I’m right here!” Myungsoo’s omma waves her hand. I run to her happy that I finished my mission before Myungsoo could get us caught.
“So, should we go home?” she asks and I nod. She hauls a taxi and we went in.

 

“Here, Nae-rin. Wear this on Wednesday, okay? Send me a picture of you wearing this, ara?” she says, handing me the bag with the dresses.
“Ne, omma!” she smiles when she heard me address her as ‘omma.’
“You go in now,” she says. I step back and bow 90 degrees.
“Take care!”I shout and wave my hand. I go inside and he’s not here! Yey! He’ll be home anytime, now. I enter my room and hide the bag behind the pile of my other clothes. I lie down on my bed and loosen my blouse. I’m so tired right now. I can probably sleep for two days straight. I close my eyes and I fall asleep.

I bash through the air, because I feel something near my face. I feel a peck on my cheek so I rub my cheek and I force my eyes to open. I see a smiling Myungsoo in front of me. he holds both my hands and forces me to sit up. I groan because my body’s in ache.
“Mohae?” I ask grumpily.
“Have you eaten?” he asks.
“Anniyeo,” I say, bashing my eyes to get it acquainted with the light. As I open my eyes, I search for the clock. It’s 6:37pm. I’m home since half past five.
“Do you want to eat?”
I nod, unable to speak. He’s not questioning me or anything! Ye…
“You’re still in your uniform. Why is that so?” Yey!
Digging, digging for words… “When I got home, I put my bag down and brought with me a smaller bag and hurriedly went there. The place was flooding with people and,” he cuts me off.
“I thought you gave them your name to be assisted quickly?”
“Yeah. But there were plenty of me in there. They were also asking the restaurant to render them the same service we took. So there. I got home and I’m tired, so I slept with my uniform on. You thought I went somewhere?” I say, stating my last sentence mordantly.
“Well, if I arrived home and you weren’t here, I probably did. But you stated your side, so I’m cool with that.” Oohh… Safe.
“But I went to my house and heard my omma say to my aphba ‘She’s really pretty. I mean, Nae-rin’s a great gal. She didn’t actually want me to spend on her and she would even say that she’ll pay half,” he says, mimicking his omma.  My jaw drops open. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I’m busted and I lied to him and I’m guilty right now.
“Ah, andwae! Oppa, mianhae. She was insisting that we go out. At first, I didn’t know who she was and she appeared in front of my house and I thought our family owes her something. Kim Myungsoo, jagi~ya, mianhae. Jebal. Chincha mianhae.”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them, they were as if forgiving.
“Okay, I’ll let you slip through. This is the last time that’ll happen. Inform me where you will go, whom you are with and tell me if you’re going to be home late or even if you’re going to be home early. I need to know everything . . . for your safety.”

For you safety . . . For your safety . . . I need to know everything for your safety. But I’ve got secrets. Secrets that I can’t tell; secrets I’m keeping for myself for your safety.  

It keeps echoing in my head, I can’t even start sleeping. I can’t tell him what Onew really said and I can’t tell him about her. That Bae Suzy who gives me the creeps was Myungsoo’s friend. Friend? Or isn’t she? She acts weirdly when she hears his name. She gets shocked and then happy that it’s the Myungsoo she knows. She’s up to something and I can’t quite place it.

“Bae Suzy! I thought you’re on your leave? What are you . . . ah,” a guy in a stylish suit halts his shouting when he sees me.
“A- Aneonghaseo. Welcome to Hansik House . . . Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House,” he says, bowing.
“Ah, komawo. I am going to pay for a reservation, the one under Mr. Kim Myungsoo’s name,” I say happily. “Welcome to Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House,” Jeez. . .How many times did I hear this sentence today? It’s annoying that I memorized it already.
Both their eyes grew big suddenly. Kim Myungsoo, what is with your name?
“Ah, chogeeyo, I’m going to pay for a reservation,” I’m feeling uneasiness.
Ms. Bae Suzy suddenly smiles but I know that she’s bothered.
“Ms. Lee, I’m the one who you talked with a while ago, telling you’ll pay.”
“Oh, that guy.” I say smiling, but it’s awkward.
He nods and smiles, “Oh, please follow Ms. Bae. She’ll show you everything you would need in the service and then you can get down into negotiation and then the payment. And then we’ll get everything done on . . . Wednesday.”
“Thank you,” I say smiling and then, following Ms. Bae.

“Ms. Lee, please follow me to the boardroom.” Boardroom? A restaurant has a boardroom?
“Uhm . . . Why the boardroom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t explained yet. Uhm . . . the courses for the selection you chose is presented in there. You may test all it and tell us which to serve on your event. After it, we will work on the papers,” she says.
“Okay. Please lead me,” I say with a smile.

She walks in a room and she’s right; waiters come in and out, placing food on the table. Good luck taste buds!
I taste everything. Argh . . . I can’t believe I’m so happy. This is heaven.
“Ms. Lee, I would like to ask. What’s your relationship with Mr. Kim Myungsoo?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Uhm . . . nothing. I just know a person with that name and I have a feeling that he’s the same Myungsoo I know.” The Myungsoo topic is suddenly horrific.
“Here, he’s the Kim Myungsoo I’m referring to when making a reservation,” I show her a picture of him . . . together with me. I want to bug her for her to stop asking things about my Myungsoo.
She smiles, “Oh, I know him. I’m right. He’s the one!”
I sense something wrong. Bad butterflies swarm my stomach, bugging me, making me want to throw up everything I ate.
“He’s my boyfriend,” I say.
“Boyfriend? Ah . . . I, uhm . . . He and I used to be friends. Haha . .,”she says, suddenly feeling uneasy. I can tell, it’s so obvious.
“Used to be,” I whisper to myself.
“Ne?”
“I wish to pay. Everything’s fine. Serve everything on Wednesday. Please serve for 90 people.”
“For 90 people? Yes, Ms. Lee.” She gives me a paper and I read everything written on it. Food selection, the food, number of servings, the amount, date and venue; everything’s arranged. I write my name and sign over it.
“Ms. Bae, here’s the payment.”
“Ms. Lee, here’s your receipt. And just call me Suzy. Calling me a miss makes me feel old. And I’m just a girl . . . still obsessing with simple things,” she says. Sounds childish!
 “Okay, Suzy. We’ll be expecting your service on Wednesday.”
“Definitely. You wouldn’t regret picking Yongsang-gu’s Hansik House to serve you meals. You’ll definitely enjoy your night.”
“If you say so. Thank you for assisting me into this. I’ll . . . uhm, see you soon.” I say that not actually liking it. I shake her hand and she escorts me out.

“Nae-rin! I’m right here!” Myungsoo’s omma waves her hand. I run to her happy that I finished my mission before Myungsoo could get us caught.
“So, should we go home?” she asks and I nod. She hauls a taxi and we went in.

 

“Here, Nae-rin. Wear this on Wednesday, okay? Send me a picture of you wearing this, ara?” she says, handing me the bag with the dresses.
“Ne, omma!” she smiles when she heard me address her as ‘omma.’
“You go in now,” she says. I step back and bow 90 degrees.
“Take care!”I shout and wave my hand. I go inside and he’s not here! Yey! He’ll be home anytime, now. I enter my room and hide the bag behind the pile of my other clothes. I lie down on my bed and loosen my blouse. I’m so tired right now. I can probably sleep for two days straight. I close my eyes and I fall asleep.

I bash through the air, because I feel something near my face. I feel a peck on my cheek so I rub my cheek and I force my eyes to open. I see a smiling Myungsoo in front of me. he holds both my hands and forces me to sit up. I groan because my body’s in ache.
“Mohae?” I ask grumpily.
“Have you eaten?” he asks.
“Anniyeo,” I say, bashing my eyes to get it acquainted with the light. As I open my eyes, I search for the clock. It’s 6:37pm. I’m home since half past five.
“Do you want to eat?”
I nod, unable to speak. He’s not questioning me or anything! Ye…
“You’re still in your uniform. Why is that so?” Yey!
Digging, digging for words… “When I got home, I put my bag down and brought with me a smaller bag and hurriedly went there. The place was flooding with people and,” he cuts me off.
“I thought you gave them your name to be assisted quickly?”
“Yeah. But there were plenty of me in there. They were also asking the restaurant to render them the same service we took. So there. I got home and I’m tired, so I slept with my uniform on. You thought I went somewhere?” I say, stating my last sentence mordantly.
“Well, if I arrived home and you weren’t here, I probably did. But you stated your side, so I’m cool with that.” Oohh… Safe.
“But I went to my house and heard my omma say to my aphba ‘She’s really pretty. I mean, Nae-rin’s a great gal. She didn’t actually want me to spend on her and she would even say that she’ll pay half,” he says, mimicking his omma.  My jaw drops open. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I’m busted and I lied to him and I’m guilty right now.
“Ah, andwae! Oppa, mianhae. She was insisting that we go out. At first, I didn’t know who she was and she appeared in front of my house and I thought our family owes her something. Kim Myungsoo, jagi~ya, mianhae. Jebal. Chincha mianhae.”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them, they were as if forgiving.
“Okay, I’ll let you slip through. This is the last time that’ll happen. Inform me where you will go, whom you are with and tell me if you’re going to be home late or even if you’re going to be home early. I need to know everything . . . for your safety.”

For your safety . . . For your safety . . . I need to know everything for your safety. But I’ve got secrets. Secrets that I can’t tell; secrets I’m keeping for myself for your safety.  

It keeps echoing in my head, I can’t even start sleeping. I can’t tell him what Onew really said and I can’t tell him about her. That Bae Suzy who gives me the creeps was Myungsoo’s friend. Friend? Or isn’t she? She acts weirdly when she hears his name. She gets shocked and then happy that it’s the Myungsoo she knows. She’s up to something and I can’t quite place it. Something is going to get very wrong and chaotic. And I'm not ready for it. I'm not ready to lose myself,what more him?