The headache was still persisting. The buzz of conversations around him wasn't helping either. He discretely rubbed his temple, all the while keeping a smile on his face. His cheeks had started to hurt, the continuous stretch they had to endure being too much.       "Hyukie dear, what do you think about it?"       His mother's voice penetrated his mind and pounded in his already pained brain. He looked up from his dish, not hurrying to give an answer. Narrowing his eyes at how sweetly she was smiling at his fiancee and her mother, he raised the stark white napkin of his dinner set to his lips. He wiped away nonexistent remains of food and then folded neatly the cloth before answering.       "You must forgive me. The food of the restaurant my Tiffany chose is so delicious that I got distracted by the flavors. If you could please repeat..." he said, his soft tone masking the irritation he was truly feeling.       The woman at his left blushed at his praising words and giggled when Hyukjae's hand squeezed hers, the action visible to the two middle aged women sitting opposite from them.   Mrs. Hwang smiled, her soon-to-be son-in-law's manners pleasing her. She sipped from her Perrier, her lipstick covered lips leaving no mark on the crystal glass.       "Concerning the band that will be playing on the day of your wedding," she said, nodding towards the young couple "would you prefer a classical one or something more modern?"       The man's forced smile trembled and almost disappeared.       I couldn't give two s about the band... - he thought and squeezed Tiffany's hand more, the young woman mistaking it for an act of affection.       "As long as Fanny likes it, everything in fine with me."       He raised his wine glass and busied his mouth, avoiding saying more on the subject.       "Hmm... Alright then, I guess we will..."       Hyukjae stopped paying attention once more, examining the dark red colour of the expensive liquid instead. Frankly, he wished the women would just arrange everything by themselves and then present the final plan to him. Why did he have to bother about cakes and table-cloths or ice sculptures of cupids whatsoever? Having to listen to all the details was already too much. He didn't want his opinion asked too.       Get on with it, damn it... - his ego growled in his mind and he couldn't do anything but agree.       Playing with the crystal glass in his fingers, he wondered if Tiffany's blood would run as red and bright as this wine, this excellent '80 Pinot Noir.      

 

  Unlocking the door of his and Tiffany's apartment almost two hours later, Hyukjae let a relieved sigh. He placed his keys, wallet and jacket on the maid's hands and heard the door closing softly behind him. He took off his shoes before walking to the kitchen, not looking back to his fiancee. Pouring himself a glass of ice-cold water, he gulped down two more pain-killers, the pounding in his head having intensified.   The young m