June 2005, Wednesday afternoon

“Hi,” says Taeyeon. She thinks it's the same salesgirl from yesterday but she can't be sure when the lady's head is bowed, looking at something. A fraction of a second later, the lady's head bobs up and the same pair of pink lips arrest her attention. Yes, it's the same salesgirl. Good, this will make it easier.

“Hi,” says the salesgirl with a smile that can sell a thousand bras. “How can I help you?”

“I'd like to change a bra for a different size.”

The salesgirl gives her the once over before her gaze comes to a rest in the region of her chest. “Bigger or smaller?”

“Smaller.”

“Do you have the receipt? When did you buy it?”

“Just yesterday.” Taeyeon takes the receipt from her pocket. It's a good thing she thought to bring it. “Here.”

“Yesterday...” The salesgirl looks at the receipt and her eyebrows raise. “Wait. I remember you now. You came in with a few other girls, right? You bought the blue bra.”

“That's right.” Taeyeon takes the blue bra out of the paper bag and hands it over to the salesgirl. “This is the bra. It's a 36B. I'd like a 34B instead.”

The salesgirl grins. “That's a cute size you got there. Wait here, I'll get you a new one.”

Taeyeon stands at the counter and waits patiently. The salesgirl doesn't take long to reappear and she beckons her to the fitting rooms. Unsure of what the salesgirl has in mind, Taeyeon walks to her with hesitant steps. “Thanks,” she says, reaching for the new bra but the salesgirl brings it into a cubicle and hangs it on a hook on the wall.

“Try it and make sure it's the right size this time. It'll save you the trouble.”

“Okay.” Taeyeon steps in and locks the door.

“Let me check it for you, just in case.”

“O...kay...” Taeyeon isn't too comfortable about parading her bra-cladded self in front of others but she reminds herself that the salesgirl is a professional and, though she doesn't appear to be much older than herself, should know bra sizes better. She takes her t-shirt and bra off and slips on the new bra as quickly as possible. Then, she opens the door and steps out, all the while trying to look like she flashes her bras to pink-lipped strangers all the time. “It feels okay to me.”

“Mind if I test?”

“Er, go ahead.”

The salesgirl takes two fingers and slips them under the bra strap, running them up and over her shoulder to the back. “Too tight,” she says and proceeds to adjust the strap. She repeats the motion with her fingers under the strap and nods this time. “Okay.” She walks round to the back. “Bend forward.”

Taeyeon does as she is told and is surprised to feel the cool tips of the salesgirl's fingers slipping under the back of her bra, sweeping forward to the cup of the bra. “You gotta gather all of it to where it matters, girl. Stand straight.” Taeyeon straightens her back as the salesgirl walks back round to the front, looking more satisfied than before. “Much better. Are your s comfy in there now?”

Taeyeon nods. It does actually feel a lot better now. “Thanks.”

“Next time, make sure your bra is level front and back. Your straps were too tight and the back was pulled up so it was higher than the front.”

“Okay.”

The salesgirl nods and gives her a tiny push. “You're good to go. See ya at the counter.”

Taeyeon shuts the door and changes back into her clothes. She then brings the new bra to the salesgirl. “Thanks for your help...”

“Stephanie.” The salesgirl smiles. “You can call me Steph for short.”

“Thanks, Steph.” Taeyeon turns to go but stops after a step or two. She turns back around and before she realizes what she's doing, she's asking Steph, “Are you Korean?”

Steph flashes a sheepish grin. “Don't I sound Korean?”

“Your accent...it's a little weird, to be honest.”

Steph winces a little. “Yeah. You're right. My Korean does .”

“No, no. I don't mean—”

“It's okay. I'm not angry or anything. I'm actually American but I'm here for the summer. It's my dad; he insisted on bringing me back to my Korean roots,” says Steph with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. “Then, he decides he doesn't want me bumming around too much and tells me to look for a job while I'm here.”

“That's cool. Your English must be really good then.”

Steph laughs. “Yeah, well. I've spoken seventeen years’ worth of English. My English is as good as your Korean.”

“English is so hard to learn and speak.”

“It's not too bad. There's lots of English words in the Korean language too.”

“It's pretty hard to learn when we don't get to practice it.”

Steph stares at her as though she's deliberating over something for a moment. “Do you wanna go out with me?”

“Wha—?”

“I don't really have friends here and to be honest, I haven't really been around much. It'll be fun to have dinner with someone other than my dad. I mean, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind. Is this the first time you're in Korea?”

“I've been here before, when I was younger. This is my third time, maybe.”

“Do you like Korean BBQ?”

“I like fried chicken, burgers, fries, pizza,” Steph rattles off the list, pointing up her fingers as she goes along. “And of course, diet Coke.”

“I know a place with very good fried chicken. I can bring you there, if you want.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow?”

“You're on.”

-oo-

January 2002, Tuesday morning

Mr Lee stops behind her and she can feel his presence but it doesn't dilute her concentration. She draws on, taking great pains to select the right colours for the job as she adds tints and shades to the design. It is her most abstract piece yet, and it is manifesting beautifully, to her great satisfaction.

“Great choice of colours,” Mr Lee comments.

“Thank you, Mr Lee.”

“It looks pretty abstract to me; is that what you're going for?”

Taeyeon nods. She puts down her colour pencils and looks at Mr Lee. “It's meant to be abstract.”

“These circles...what do they represent?”

“Bras.”

“Pardon my hearing, what did you say?”

“Bras. The concentric circles are bra cups. The free wavy lines are bra straps.”

“I see...” Mr Lee looks a little taken aback as he scratches his chin and tilts his head. “Why bras?”

“Because bras are timeless. I am contemplating the timelessness of art in its most practical form.”

Mr Lee smiles suddenly. “What's your name?”

“Kim Taeyeon.”

“Keep it up, Taeyeon. I look forward to viewing your finished piece.”

“Thank you, Mr Lee.”

-oo-

May 2010, Friday night

“Man, I'm bored.” Taeyeon can hear the familiar sounds of Tiffany tossing about on her bed. “Aren't you bored?”

“No.”

“Whatcha doing?” The sound of Tiffany getting off her bed is followed by sounds of her breath beside Taeyeon's ear as Tiffany's face appears beside hers. “What is this?”

“It's a game.”

“I know it's a game. What game is it?”

“It's called The Sims. How do you not know this?”

“I'm not a nerd like you.” Tiffany leans further past her shoulders and points at the character she is controlling at the moment. “What's she doing?”

“Looking for a job.”

“Wait. She...she looks like me.”

“I modelled her after you.”

“Holy . She's called Tiffany too.”

“Yeah.”

Tiffany drags her chair up beside Taeyeon and nudges her to the side a little. “So. What sorta job are you going to get me?”

“She's gonna be a fast food employee.”

“What?! No way. I'm not gonna work at a fast food chain. Get me something else.”

“Why not? You should be happy to work at a fast food chain. Then you can get all the burgers and fries you want. Not forgetting, diet Coke,” says Taeyeon, wearing a teasing grin.

“No, no, no. I want something glamorous. What choices do we have?”

“Am I playing the game or are you.”

“You made the character look like me and gave her my name. It's your fault that I feel responsible for her future now.”

“You're crazy.”

“Crazy or not, I want Tiffany to have an awesome job.” Tiffany nods at the screen. “Make her search for more jobs.”

Taeyeon heaves a sigh and clicks on the computer. She selects the option 'Search for a job' and up pops another job offer: Gardener. She looks at Tiffany. “That's a decent job.”

Tiffany shakes her head. “No way. Too many bugs. Search again.”

“Oh my God,” Taeyeon whines but clicks again. “Culinary?”

“Nah. Too hot in the kitchen.”

“This is insane,” Taeyeon grumbles as she clicks yet again. “Painter! That's good.”

“That's you, not me. Next.”

Taeyeon rolls her eyes but clicks nonetheless. She wonders why she is enslaved by Tiffany's demands. “Fashion. That's cool, right?”

“Mmm, yeah. Fashion is good. Take the job.”

“Thank God.”

“Now, you'd better take good care of Tiffany. I'll be checking in to see if she's doing okay.”

“Oh my God,” Taeyeon groans as Tiffany giggles and presses a kiss on her cheek.

-oo-