Y O O N A

Earlier that day…

I’m not used to flying first class. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to flying in general. You see, I don’t leave the country much because:

1. I don’t really have any business outside Dokbayo.
2. Dad rarely invites me to accompany him on one of his international trips.

So honestly, this one rather took me by surprise.

We were seated inside one of the government’s private jets. My father and I sat across from each other on giant soft, white plush seats (with seatbelts, of course). Two steaming cups of espresso were on the table right in front of us.

I spoke up, “Dad, thanks for bringing me along on this trip.”

Dad just laughed. “You have to thank your cousin. This was her idea.”

“Sulli told you to bring me along?” I gawked.

Again, my father laughed. “Actually, this whole thing was her idea. She told me that Dokbayo should attend the Global Friendship Day Concert in Taiwan this week. To quote her, it’s one of the ways we can get to know our neighbors and form necessary alliances. That girl is pretty smart, you know. And besides, she said you weren’t feeling well for the last couple of days. Your brother told me the same thing. Are you alright? Are you stressed with work? You can quit anytime, you know.”

I smiled and nodded. “I’m fine, Dad. I think I just got the flu or something.”

My dad studied me for a bit. “Well, I hope this vacation would do you some good.”

“I hope so, too,” I answered and took a sip from my coffee cup. I turned towards the window. Giant cumulonimbus clouds drifted below us – like an endless sea of white cotton. I smiled, satisfied, and leaned back on my chair.

I rarely get to enjoy these kinds of luxuries. You see, the Royal Family of Dokbayo is very different from the rest of the monarchs of the world. For one thing, everyone except for the King (who sometimes has to attend to very important matters and therefore requires a lot of money) has to live a basic life.

We believe that in order for a ruler “to understand the people, he has to live like the people.”

So this means instead of palaces and mansions and castles, we have to content ourselves with a middle-class lifestyle in a decent house in the suburbs. The King’s children don’t get private tutors or personal nannies. We go to a public school like everybody else. We don’t have limousines or butlers or maids. We wait at bus stops and wait for our turn to get onboard. We don’t get automatic, special scholarships from the country’s best universities. We still had to study very hard for the entrance exams. And once we graduate from college, we have to find work on our own.

Few people also know of our identity. This was because we were not to receive any special treatment from anyone. This way, we delight in the same joys as our people, and suffer the same problems as well. But unlike everyone else, we have the capacity to do something about these problems. (That is why the Dokbayonese rarely experience traffic jams. My grandfather hated being stuck in traffic when he was younger, so when he became King, he formulated an ingenious plan to help decongest the roads.)

However, compared to the rest of the people, the Royal Family has a heightened sense of civil consciousness. We have to love Dokbayo more than the ordinary citizen would. We have to put our country first and make sacrifices in the process. We have to be good role models. We have to show our people and the rest of the world just what a Dokbayonese is: hospitable, friendly and hardworking.

That is why, even though it may be challenging, one has to do things for the country. Like being an interpreter, for example.

That strange, unfamiliar feeling crept upon me again.  

“You seem to be in deep thought, my daughter,” Dad commented. I turned towards him and realized that he’s been watching me all along.

“I was just thinking of my duties as a Dokbayonese,” I beamed at him. But when I turned my face away from him, a frown quickly replaced my smile.

I wonder where you are right now.

~~~

Pretty soon, Dad and I found ourselves in the courtyard of Shangri-La Hotel in Taipei. The place was beautiful and I was so mesmerized by the decorations that I almost forgot that I was wearing a very uncomfortable black dress.

Okay, I find dresses uncomfortable in general. I grew up wearing jeans and oversized T-shirts. Insult my sense of style if you want, but I put comfort on top of everything else.

“That man over there is United Kingdom’s Secretary of State for Culture,” my dad pointed to a thin man with very pink skin as soon as we were seated at our table. “And that man is the Vice President of Fiji .”

My father continued to point out prominent figures of society. I was so overwhelmed with the sea of different races and ethnicities surrounding me. I mean, this was the first time I ever saw a Belgian and an Algerian in person.

My father even lectured me on the proper way one should behave during occasions like this. He taught me about meals, silverware, the different ways people greet each other, etcetera.

I was so engrossed in every single detail that came out of my father’s mouth that I didn’t even notice what was happening on stage. I didn’t hear anyone but Dad. That is why I almost fainted from surprise when Super Junior M came to our table.

And he was there.

Although he wasn’t the only one with orange hair, I immediately recognized his lake-like eyes and his smile.

The emotions that came over me were inexplicable. I wasn’t too sure how I felt at that moment. Was I embarrassed? Shocked? Scared? Bewildered? Annoyed? Overjoyed?

“Yoona?”  Lee Donghae asked.

I stood up clumsily, my hands trembling, unsure of what to do.

“You two know each other?” my father asked.

But I didn’t have enough time to answer. Lee Donghae sprang forward and before I knew it…

…I found myself in his arms.