i.

I didn’t think arranged marriages still existed. They were traditional, unconventional – old. I braced myself for the inevitable meeting, fiddling with my cuff links and then my thin black tie; and I had repeatedly comforted myself that at least my parents respected my preference. I imagined having to tie the knot with a woman was significantly harder, and I wanted things easy. I always did.

The whole venue was reserved just for our meeting, and you could imagine how nervous I was at the impending awkwardness. I didn’t let it show on my face, as always; I was the type that hid my emotions well – but when I saw how you looked like, my fake indifference wanted to crumble at your feet. Maybe I thought my mother was overreacting with all her gushing on how you looked like such the gentleman and sohandsome to an extent that even how you smell was nice, and the incoming CEO of Kim Industries could be no less.

I found myself conceding.

You were wearing a gray three-piece cut suit, an expensive watch, polished shoes and your tousled blond hair. What hit me was that your lips were pressed into a thin line, and it had me swallowing. You didn’t look pleased at all, but I was determined to sway you and your judgment.

It’s only once that you can get married, after all.

ii.

Turns out, in general, you were just not pleased at all.

At the engagement party, you were as cold as the bottle of beer I was holding. I thought that maybe you’re the detached type of lover, if there was such a thing – and I remembered that you didn’t love me at all.

I needed another drink.

We were seated next to each other up in the platform, and the dance floor was where famous singers serenaded us for our newly announced engagement. The media was all for it, of course: the union of the two biggest heirs of the two largest companies in Seoul was sure to be arranged for the families to monopolize the electrical business. It was all true, though, but our parents tried not to make it too conspicuous.

With this big of a party, they were obviously trying.

There was an audio visual presentation showed to the audience of how we met, and I wondered how on earth did they manage to get these many pictures of us together? I rarely saw you except for important events such as this, and the video was almost believable. Almost. You shifted in your seat, and trying not to show much hesitation, I reached for your hand that was on the armrest, holding it gently with my cold fingers, running my thumb along your knuckles experimentally. You never offered physical contact when we were together, and I thought at least we could put on a good show. That is, if you cooperated. You stiffened slightly, I could tell, and I also knew how good you were at hiding your discomfort. Our fancy dates ever since the day we ‘got together’ told me enough.

“Are you okay?” I murmured, taking my eyes off the presentation and gave you a somewhat convincing smile that I was so in love with you. 

You nodded once, your hand not moving against the armrest of your chair. At least you hadn’t made an action to shrug my fingers away, but then again, we were in public.

You were quite the actor.

I stifled a small sigh and wondered why I was in this situation in the first place… I couldn’t care less about our fortune, because we’ve had that since well into the 1970’s. And I could have just run away from my apparent ‘responsibility’ to be wed to you, but I stayed and did my mother and father’s bidding. I don’t understand, still, but it would be a shame if I would back out now that the whole world knows.

When the video presentation ended, the audience clapped and some even clinked their forks to their glasses, signaling that they want us to kiss. I blinked, my eyes flying to your expression, and you displayed them one of your ever-so-rare smiles that had me stunned for a few moments, and my lips lifted into the same expression as you were wearing, believing it. It’s a lie, it’s all a lie, I reminded myself, but when your lips touched the corner of mine, something told me otherwise.

iii.

Lies, lies, lies.

iv.

“Babe,” I said, my voice sickly sweet just to grate on your iron nerves. Maybe you’d pay more attention to me if I annoyed you, but I don’t know how exactly was that going to work in my favor.

I could almost hear you grit your teeth. “What…?”

“Babe,” I pressed on, flashing you a playful grin that had you rolling your eyes, but you said nothing in return. I laughed at your pained expression. So far so good. “I can call you that, right? You’re gonna be my husband, after all,” I continued, and you looked like you’d rather just… not. 
I wanted to laugh again.

“Baaaaabe,” I sing-songed, flinging myself into the long, L-shaped couch that was one of the features of the model house that we, or rather, you were pondering on buying for us for when we officially wed. And then, in a serious tone, “Do you like this house?”

You hummed nonchalantly, and that was, for once, a different answer than silence. Our dates were easier now – I talk, you listen (or at least, I hoped that you did), it made perfect sense. Sometimes. I could almost hear my mother’s voice, a perfect match. You ran your hand across the backrest of the black couch and said, “Let’s get this one,” with a tone of finality.

Just like my father, I mused, and I suddenly wondered if I was about to turn myself into your trophy spouse, like my mother. I pursed my lips, my eyes taking in your profile as you gazed out the view of our soon-to-be living room window, and I wanted to tell myself differently – that you weren’t the person you wanted me to think that you are.

I’ve just got to try harder.

v.

Maybe.

vi.

“You look…” I trailed off, because you were absolutely breathtaking in our wedding. You were wearing an all black tuxedo, and I’ve decided that you looked best in the color. That, and I had the fortune to see you actually look down, your expression shy at the beginning of my compliment, and I ignored that thing in my chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “…Really nice.”

Smooth, Daehyun, smooth.

“Thank you,” you replied, clearing your throat quietly as you faced me in front of the presider, who began to speak. And I thought everything might just change from this point on – maybe if you got used to me, to my presence, especially when we live in the same house, you’d talk to me more. Talk talk. I know of your interests, your hobbies, your aspirations… but not you. It was so strange. One of the strangest things I’ve ever felt. It was odd that I was getting married, to you of all people in a sense – I never thought that someone like me would settle down.

I reached for your hands and you took mine, and I couldn’t help but give you a smile, our engagement rings catching in the light.

Maybe, maybe.

vii.

“Jung Daehyun, do you take Kim Yukwon as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forth, through sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Kim Yukwon, do you take Jung Daehyun as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forth, through sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?”

“… I do.”

viii.

The corner of my lip was still tingling from your kiss.

ix.

Our first night as newlyweds was spent at home that was a part of the suburb, with even less people what with the location you had picked in a newly built executive village. It wasn’t too big for the both of us, but not too small – it was comfortable.

I hoped for it to be. And I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or not that there was only one bedroom.

The bags were dropped by the foot of the stairs, and I didn’t mind. There was no rush, and the atmosphere around us was thick enough that you can’t actually rush. I worried my lower lip.

We had changed out of our tuxedos and (rather awkwardly) met in front of our now shared bedroom, and you avoided my eyes as you opened the door, revealing the bedroom with a king-sized bed, the headboard simple yet elegant. There was a balcony connected to it with sliding glass windows, the curtains colored light blue.

You took the left side of the bed and I the right, and you slid inside the covers, turning your body away from me. I lied down beside you, my eyes prickling with something that I didn’t understand, and I closed them, a shuddering breath leaving my lungs.

“… Good night, Yukwon,” I whispered into the air, knowing that you won’t answer, but I did, anyway.

“Good night, Daehyun.”

x. 

I felt like I haven’t seen you since the wedding.

You had a study in the house, and I made some tea for myself, and I wondered if you’ve eaten already. I also poured a cup for you, just in case, before climbing up your study and knocking twice on the door. “Yukwon.”

There was no answer.

“Yukwon…?” I blinked, about to reach for the doorknob when your voice sounded faintly from the inside.

“I’m working,” you said simply. You worked and worked and worked, I’ve noticed. I sighed to myself softly, worry making my brows furrow.

“Did you get some food already?” I called back, leaning my ear against the door.

“I’m not hungry.”

I pursed my lips, them and trying again. “… I made you tea.”

The door opened and you peeked out; you were still in your work clothes, your tie loosened and the top two buttons of your shirt ed. You looked attractive, even then. “When did you actually last had decent sleep?” I couldn’t help but ask, and you shrugged, making me click my tongue and shake my head slightly. I handed you the mug, asking, “You sure you’re not hungry?”

You took the mug wordlessly and shook your head, your shoulders relaxing. “I’m not,” you replied, and you moved away from the gap on the door and closed it slowly.

Like most nights, I slept alone again.

xi.

I myself was busy for a while. I wasn’t the CEO of my family’s company, but there had been issues regarding official paperwork and as a member of the board, I was required to be mostly in the offices to settle the changes to be implemented after the merging of our companies.

I came home with a headache, mentally and physically fatigued.

The house was empty, which wasn’t a surprise. But knowing you, you were probably just drowning with your work in your study. And so, I made the both of us tea, and maybe, maybe I could even spend time with you today, in your small office.

I walked the short distance up the stairs and to your office, knocking twice. “Kwonnie?” I called tentatively, and there was no answer again. “Kwonnie… babe?” I said, out of habit (and, despite my overuse of the pet name, you still hated it), and tapped my foot impatiently. You didn’t answer me, and I thought that maybe you had fallen asleep on top of your paperwork. I reached for the doorknob and twisted it, surprised that the study is actually unlocked, staring blankly at what I saw.

It looked like you haven’t been home for days.

I went inside the room and placed the two mugs on your table and took my phone from my pocket, pressing your name and calling your private number as I took in your study – it was neat, not a paper out of place. Like the proper CEO you are.

Beep. ‘Hello, this is Kim Yukwon, I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message.’ Beep.

“Babe – Yukwon,” I corrected myself, as I knew you hated that name. “It’s… it’s Dae. Where are you? I know you’re busy, but… I haven’t seen you in days… call me back, okay? I hope you’re eating and sleeping well.”

Beep.

xii.

The alcohol was only to relieve the emptiness, but I didn’t know why there was another pair of hands touching me.

Maybe I let them. 

Maybe. 

I was swaying along with the music, pushing down the mild disgust as another man wrapped his arms around my waist. He was sweet, he was smooth, I let myself listen to his sugarcoated words. Words you haven’t said, and never would.

He wasn’t like you. (Although, I think I wouldn’t know for sure.) He was a little rough, a little demanding, speaking huskily into my ear that had me feeling a shiver crawl up my spine. He fed me with obscenities, that things he would do to me behind closed doors, and I was left wondering, would you ever do the same, too?

It was the alcohol. 

His fingers were calloused and rough, unlike yours. I realized that I didn’t like them as much. He probably left indents with the shape of his digits on my hips, gripping a little too tight. I started to think whether I should just leave.

It was too late – he pulled me closer, leaning in, and I closed my eyes. His lips were chapped, the feeling of them strange against mine – it made my blood pump faster, his hips grinding forward, almost needy, but somehow, I knew that the tingle of my lips from your chaste kisses had given me more satisfaction, rather than this. It was messy, sloppy, all teeth and tongue clashing, and I tasted the nicotine in his mouth. 

But this was okay. 

You wouldn’t care.

You hadn’t before, so why now?

I had to pull back to breathe. I felt like I was drowning, my lungs craving the oxygen from the ordeal. This wasn’t as pleasant, I thought, wiping the corner of my lip amidst the dim lights.

No one could compare to you.

But then, fate was not on my side – was it ever? Fate didn't allow me to have you.

As fate would have it, my eyes caught a sight of light blond hair, and there you were.

Why were you there?

Foreign lips (they were foreign because they weren’t yours) travelled down my jaw and to my neck, and I craned my head to get a better look if it really was you, and he took it as encouragement, kissing me heatedly, leaving his prints on my skin, like I was something that he owned. 

Our eyes met.

Panic rose like bile in my throat, and it doused me sober. 

Was that really hurt in your eyes? Or a trick of the light?

I called your name and pushed off the stranger, struggling to make it past the writhing bodies, my heart sinking to my stomach.

Why?

It was so stupid. This was so stupid. I ran outside, breathless with effort, wiping the sweat off my brow just to see your car disappear into the cold night.

Don’t go, I found myself saying into the air. But we were separated already – we were miles apart from the beginning, and this, I tried to ignore.

Please, it was a mistake, I said to my shaking palms, my brain managing to work again to take my phone and dial your number, only to get a busy tone.

Maybe if I got home as fast as you’ve gone, I would still be able to talk to you and explain.

(Explain what? I don’t know.)

I was wrong. 

xiii.

So this was how it felt like having a relationship that was destined to fail.

You haven’t been home for days. I haven’t slept for what it felt like days.

I guess I’d never know why you were there, huh?

Did you look for me?

I’m sorry if what you found wasn’t what you wanted.

Stupid. It was so stupid.

I tried calling you and going to your office to no avail. I went to your parents' house, and they greeted me with cold, disapproving stares, and they didn't even bother to let me enter the gates. I'm assuming you told them?

I came home that night, and your clothes were gone.

So this was how it was like. The sinking feeling in my stomach was no better than the last. I guess I failed you, too. Like I did myself. I thought it was easy, and I wanted it to be. It wasn’t. I was wrong.

I left you this.

Maybe someday, you’ll come back to our house and see this.

Maybe.

xiv.

Dear Yukwon,

              I’m sorry. I was stupid. Please, forgive me.
                If you read this, please come and find me.                  
                                            I love you.
                                                        Yours forever,
                                                        Daehyun