The chill of late November had gripped the city. The run up to Christmas was well on its way. Choi Young Do looked on from the inside of his sedan as David raced towards the hotel. He had just returned from a crisis management trip from Poland, which was only the latest in a month and half of frantic business activities. His expansion plans had been put on hold for that one thing that he was choosing to focus on instead. It was his most daring venture yet and he was the only one, who knew about it. It was exhausting to put up a façade of being in control when he was paddling like crazy in dangerous waters. The reason it was twice as hard was that he couldn’t share his anxiety and fears with anybody. But playing it close to his vest made sure that he was safe, at least for the time being. He badly needed some down time away from the tense game that he had put into play but every day counted towards the bigger objective and its successful conclusion. Failure was not an option.

Walking down the corridor to his suite seemed to tire him out even further though he was merely trudging behind David, who was dragging his huge suitcase on rollers and carrying his business case as well. The sterile and artificially fragrant air of his suite that assailed his senses as he stepped into it only made him feel more tired. He yearned to be somewhere else. He looked around the immaculate room and felt a sigh echo in his heart. “I want to go home. But I don’t know where home is.” That’s when he noticed it. A yellow balloon tied to the back of his chair at the work desk. It was almost surreal seeing the incongruous piece of décor that seemed to bring a quirky sense of liveliness into the room that was all ultramodern and impersonal in essence. David had just come out of the bedroom after depositing his luggage and followed his boss’ eyes stuck to the yellow balloon, seemingly lost in speculation.

“Director, that arrived yesterday for you. It was a messenger delivery. I…didn’t know how else to keep that balloon from floating away….so I…….tied it to the chair. It was accompanied by an envelope, which I left on your desk, next to your other messages and mail.” David hoped that Director Choi, who looked too tense and tired after his trip, did not find his actions insolent. But then Director Choi never really raised his voice to express his displeasure. In another life, he must have been a cold assassin.

Choi Young Do had an inkling as to who the balloon was from. He walked over to the table and easily identified the bright yellow sealed envelope. For a second, he thumbed longingly over the beautifully inscribed address. His name and the hotel’s address had never seemed so handsomely written before. He carefully tore open the envelope to find a preprinted party invite, the kind where one has to just fill in the name, date and venue details. Only in this one, in the place assigned for venue was written “Secret-call for details”. At the bottom, he could make out a childish scrawl in English that spelled the host’s name, Sunny. Choi Young Do smiled and strangely, felt a little lighter. He took out his phone and called the number that he had by heart. And his heart did not fail to skip a beat as the feminine voice answered at the other end.

“Hello!” she said, her voice warm and friendly.

“Did you know that your son is sending out invites to a party to strangers?” he wanted to talk and straight questions are never as much fun as roundabout queries.

She smiled (though Choi Young Do couldn’t explain why he felt sure about it since he certainly couldn’t see her do it), “Yes, I know about it. In fact it was a joint effort. We talked and planned for all of two days. Sunny even sacrificed his cartoon hours so that we could shop for and put together the invites. He even blew the balloons himself. And you are not a stranger. Not if you ask Sunny. He chose to invite you.”

Choi Young Do was genuinely surprised, “Well……I am honored. But what’s the occasion? And why is the venue ‘secret’?”

Cha Eun Sang seemed to collect her thoughts before she spoke, “The occasion is Sunny’s birthday, which is actually tomorrow. But like millions of working mothers, I will be at work tomorrow. So we decided to celebrate it on Saturday. It’s just a home cooked lunch. Nothing fancy at all. But I am requesting that please don’t bring any gifts. I do not want Sunny to associate birthdays with gifts. He gets toys and clothes throughout the year. I want him to know that birthdays are about family, friends and celebrating together. So, please don’t bring any gifts.”

Choi Young Do felt a little disappointed on Sunny’s behalf but he knew where Cha Eun Sang was coming from. Growing up, he had received expensive birthday gifts and over the years they had lost their meanings. Gifts, over all, had lost their meanings. Now, a simple dinner with his mother brought him more comfort than all the expensive gifts that he had ever received.

“OK. As you wish. But why is the venue classified? Are you expecting gate crashers? Paparazzi?”

This time she giggled and he could hear the muffled sound, which made him smile in turn.

“Choi Young Do, this is the most difficult part…for you. The lunch is being hosted by my mother….at her place.” She paused uncomfortably before resuming, “You know, that is if you remember the place…it’s where we used to live and where my mother still lives, in our old neighborhood.”

A long time ago, Choi Young Do had tracked down her address in the hope of finding out more about the intriguing new student at his school, who seemed equally unfazed by his charisma and bullying ways. His search had taken him to the shoddier part of the town, to a hovel like rental. That’s where he had stated to unravel the mystery of the ‘social welfare’ student, Cha Eun Sang. He had met her mother once, when she had fled Seoul to a small town, to escape the coercions of Chairman Kim. Choi Young Do had a special respect for Cha Eun Sang’s mother, who had overcome her misgivings about a nosy boy to treat him to a home cooked lunch, his first in many years.

“……I don’t know if you would feel comfortable about coming there. And I will absolutely understand if you can’t. Don’t worry about Sunny. I will explain that you couldn’t make it because you are away or something.” She was speaking in a rush, overcompensating for the silence on Choi Young Do’s part.

“I remember the house…what it looks like. Just don’t remember clearly how to get there.” Choi Young Do spoke up to stop her presumptions.

She was quiet for a moment, “So, you will come?” She sounded almost hesitant.

Choi Young Do leaned tiredly against the cold wall, suddenly depressed again. Why did she always think the worst of him?

“Why? Would it make you uncomfortable if I came?” He was irritated and combative.

She could close her eyes and almost see him take the defensive stance, the walls coming up around him. She had to reach him before he shut himself up again. He knew about her humble origins so she had a feeling that it might not be such a shock for him to actually experience it firsthand. 

“No. It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, I would really appreciate it if you could come. Sunny is so looking forward to his first birthday party…..of sorts.” She spoke absolutely honestly and it was conveyed across the jumble of underground wires and relayed over the tall towers, to the ear that unmistakably picked up the delicate note of earnestness.

Choi Young Do felt the tension ebb from his mind as he chided himself for being unnecessarily prickly. Perhaps he needed to sleep and recharge before he did anything else.

“Alright. I will come. I will be happy to come. Just text me the address…….just in case I can’t find the way from memory.”

“I will. And……….how was your trip?” She asked tentatively, half expecting him to say something to blow her off or retort sarcastically.

Taken aback by the sudden change of topic, unguarded, exhausted and on the edge, Choi Young Do answered candidly, “Tiring, very tiring. I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years if only I could calm down my nerves.”

Cha Eun Sang knew what that felt like and all she could do in response was to wish him some peace. She was quiet for a second before she said reflexively, in a tone that Sunny knew very well, “Sleep well.”

Though it could be misconstrued to be a command, Choi Young Do fell under sway of the implied tone and felt his eyes close. He felt a calmness descend over him as he held those final words of their conversation close to his heart and let his mind replay her words again and again, till his weary body found the its way to the mattress. Suddenly, he couldn’t keep his eyes open a second longer. He wanted to lose himself into the warmth of the oblivion that beckoned him ever so invitingly. His spent his last conscious moment pondering if this was what ‘home’ felt like.

David was a little surprised to have been summoned to Choi Young Do’s office in the middle of the day. His routine required him to generally stay on call but idle during the hours that Choi Young Do spent at his office. He reported to his personal assistant and waited respectfully in the foyer outside the visitors’ room. A few upper management executives were already cooling their heels, waiting to meet Director Choi so he was astonished when the personal assistant bade him to enter Director Choi’s office within a minute. He had entered Director Choi’s office only twice before. He stepped inside and took up a position nearest to the door, not sure of approaching the Director’s desk without further permission.

Choi Young Do felt rather than saw David enter his office and huddle near the door. Sometimes his loyal employee’s diffidence exasperated him. Nonetheless, he was the only one he could trust with the unusual mission.

“David, do you have a motorcycle license?” He kept his eyes glued to the document he was reviewing.

“Yes, Director.” David was not sure where this was going but he was being a professional.

“There’s an enclosed garage at the far end of the parking lot A. Have you ever noticed it?” Choi Young Do himself hadn’t been in there in ages.

“Yes Director. I think I have. It is next to the private elevators.” David knew that map of the said parking lot since that was exclusively assigned for the owners’ vehicles. It was the place which was barricaded from the rest of the parking facility, home to Choi family’s stable of luxury and super luxury, customized vehicles. Though, David, as Choi Young Do’s chauffeur, was privy to the necessary PIN number that one required to access that area, he had not dared touch any of the cars other than the ones he was told to fetch or park. That area was surveilled by the hotel security and had a motion sensor that triggered video recording of all that traffic in that area.

But even David felt curious about that one shuttered garage space and often wondered what kind of car remained behind its locked door. A Maybach? A vintage Aston Martin? The Batmobile?

“Well, here’s the key to that garage” David barely had time to bring himself out of his daydream to see Choi Young Do pull out a keyring that held a few keys from his pocket and lay it on the table. David stepped up to the desk and picked up the keyring, noting that at least one of the keys looked like a vehicle ignition key.

“Inside, you will find a motorcycle, a dirt bike of sorts. Hasn’t been driven in years. Don’t know if it’s still working. See if you can make it roadworthy in a day. Don’t create a fuss over it though. Do the repairs yourself if possible. Take the thing for a test ride. Fill up gas if it’s still working and let me know how it goes.”

David was deflated but a little intrigued. A motorcycle? That’s was what was lying secured behind lock and key, while top-of-the-line sedans and sports cars were parked outside in plain view? He collected the keys and bowed respectfully.

“Yes, Director. I will do my best.” Choi Young Do watched him leave and picked up his phone and scrolled through his messages. One was from her. That morning he had woken up refreshed and recharged, suddenly childishly happy at the prospect of a birthday party. He had found a message from her, giving him the address to her mother’s place and a polite request attached to it. Well, he was going to try and honor her request. He was half excited at the prospect of riding his dirt bike again and the other half couldn’t wait to see her reaction to it. Choi Young Do smirked as he tried to imagine her surprise.

The idea however sounded much better in his head than in reality as Choi Young Do zipped through Saturday traffic towards his destination. Even in daytime, the wind whipped around him, its razor sharp talons clawing its way under the heavy jacket that Choi Young Do had donned. He was wearing a full mask helmet and his jacket was zipped up all the way but he still shivered once in a while. There was hardly any snow on the ground and the old bike still had the same power that he remembered from years before. He felt free and adventurous, daring to take a few risky moves as he weaved through traffic, safe in the anonymity that his helmet offered him. He was young again, finding joy in inconsequential things like startling a fellow driver, challenging himself to cross a light before it turned red and over all just enjoying the ride. He managed to remember to stop at a roadside stall selling flowers and bought two dozen roses, delighting the elderly ahjumma tending the shop.

Guided by his phone’s GPS, he knew the house when he saw it. The few steps that led to the open corridor that in turn ended at the front door of small apartment. He parked next to the railing and took off his helmet. He looked around and saw that she was right in her request. Nobody took any serious notice of him. They did gawk but he was sure that it was because he was a stranger to the neighborhood. And who wouldn’t steal a second look at a tall, handsome young man? Probably the young woman, who stood at the front door of the apartment that was his destination, wearing a prominent scowl of disapproval on her face. Choi Young Do felt disappointed and braced himself. He carried the flowers in one hand and his helmet in the other.

“What? The flowers are not for you. These are for your mother. Contrary to what you think, I am extremely polite and courteous to ladies……of a certain age.” He pretended to act hurt.

“Choi Young Do, do you think zipping about the city on a bike, in this cold, is a good idea? What happened to your stable of cars?” She scolded like a school teacher.

“Aigoo! And here was I, trying to do your bidding.” He juggled the flowers and helmet in one hand as he fished out his phone from his jacket, pointing it at her accusingly, “Your message said and I quote, “Please try to bring the smallest and most ordinary looking vehicle with you.”

He gestured towards his recently restored bike and said emphatically, “That