They arrived in LA a little after four o’clock. As a U.S. citizen, Eun Mi had to go through a different part of customs. As they neared the station, Eun Mi grew annoyed.

“What’s wrong?” Taewoon asked, rubbing her arm gently.

“I hate coming through customs. They take forever.” She turned to him, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Will you be okay? They’ll ask you a few questions. They’ll probably take forever. They’re such s.”

Taewoon grinned. “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I come to the States, y’know?”

Eun Mi exhaled. “I’m glad we don’t have a connecting flight.”

This surprised Taewoon. “We don’t?”

“No. I’ve missed several flights because of these s. We fly out in the morning.”

He could not ask more since an officer roughly escorted him to another section of customs. It took him nearly an hour to reunite with her at baggage claim. She sat on a bench, head tilted back with both suitcases beside her.

“Someone could steal those.”

She scoffed. Taewoon realized early on that jetlag made Eun Mi cranky, which, oddly enough, he found endearing.

As the native, she led him around with ease. After washing up at the hotel near the airport, they headed out for In-N-Out Burger. They both wanted to sleep, but if they gave in, their jetlag would be miserable later.

Eun Mi rubbed her eyes every so often, setting her chin on her hand, her blinks becoming slower, longer. Taewoon felt the same way.

“I’m so tired I can’t taste anything,” she pouted. “What a waste.”

Taewoon smiled a small smile, reaching for her hand. Instinctively, Eun Mi laced her fingers through his. They rested their hands on the surface of the table, her head on his arm.

It felt strange, surreal, showcasing their relationship out in the open. Sitting there in exhausted, a sudden thought occurred to Taewoon.

“Eun Mi-ah?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your name?”

Eun Mi sat up, looking at him from behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “What do you mean what’s my name?”

“Your legal name.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Song Ma Ri.”

Taewoon let out a tiny laugh. “No, silly, your birth name. The name your parents gave you.”

“Ooh!” Eun Mi laughed, resuming her previous position. “It’s Marisol.”

She told him so simply, without a hint of anything—not fondness, not pride, not melancholy. She revealed her birth name so matter-of-factly that Taewoon had nothing to say for a good while.

“Ma Ri Seol?”

Eun Mi giggled. “Marisol.”

He practiced it for twenty minutes before he got it right. Eun Mi laughed, dismissing the event as just an everyday occurrence.

“What’s your family name?”

“Rodriguez. Pretty normal.”

“Rod-what?”

This made her laugh. “See? This is exactly what it felt like to learn Korean!”

And though she a tiny bit (the same way she while helping him with English, always in good nature), she guided him through the syllables.

“Rodriguez, Marisol.” Taewoon looked at her. “Marisol.”

For the first time since she’d spoken her birth name, Eun Mi reacted to it. Her cheeks warmed. She pressed the back of her hands to them, looking away. Her heart raced. She realized that she really loved the sound of her name on his lips, spoken in his voice.

He draped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer as he pressed his forehead against her hair. “What does it mean?”

“E-eh?”

“What does your name mean?”

“María Soledad,” Eun Mi deadpanned. “It’s a shortened version of Maria Soledad.”

“Maria as in Mary? What is Soledad?”

“Solitude.”

Taewoon detected the bitterness in her voice. He regarded her closely.

“You don’t like your name.”

She shrugged. “My aunt tells me that it doesn’t mean that. She says my parents meant for it to mean mar y sol—sea and sun.”

“You don’t think your parents could have meant that?”

Again, she shrugged. “My father was not that nice.”

It was the first time that Taewoon had heard her speak ill of her parents to any degree. Eun Mi usually had the highest of praise for them, always in a loving, animated tone.

He realized that standing on her native country, Seoul, South Korea thousands of miles behind, with a vast ocean between them, allowed her to shed some of the armor that she had built up around herself.

Taewoon had witnessed the shift from CELESTIAL’s Song Eun Mi to the regular twenty-two year old Song Ma Ri. Now, he’d witnessed yet another layer of her disappear.

There was CELESTIAL’s Song Eun Mi, twenty-two year old Song Ma Ri, and the orphan Marisol Rodriguez.

The word hit Taewoon like a ton of bricks. The reality that he knew almost nothing about her nearly suffocated him.

Eun Mi sighed, wrapping her arms around him. She nuzzled her face against his side, smiling. “Let’s go now. I’m tired.”

The morning sun baked his skin the moment he stepped out of the air-conditioned airport and onto the arrivals’ pick-up area. His suitcase came to a halting stop beside him. He raised his hand to shield his eyes against the blazing light. 

A cool hand touched his arm. He squinted down at Eun Mi.

Already, she had a pair of sunglasses on. She held his sunglasses in her hand, wiped clean, ready for use.

He accepted them gratefully. Taewoon couldn’t decide what kind of heat was worse: Korea’s humid grip or this state’s dry, suffocating oven.

With his eyes now shielded from the burning sunlight, Taewoon noticed she had removed her cardigan, draping it on her suitcase’s handle lifelessly, forgotten and useless in this infernal climate. Her tank top hung loosely, billowing in the dry breeze. She sported a pair of strappy sandals. Her legs looked longer in her shorts; a strip of perhaps two or three inches of dark denim peeked from underneath the length of her top. With expert, practiced movements, she scooped up her dark hair into a messy ponytail, securing it away from her face, neck, shoulders, and back.

Taewoon had never seen so much of her skin. So much of her.

Eun Mi did not look like Eun Mi. She stood taller, more confident, at ease. This Eun Mi was American born Marisol, comfortable in her skin, decided, with knowledge of her surroundings. This Eun Mi was a giant. Taewoon almost felt small beside her.

A good night’s rest seemed to have gotten rid of the gloomy mood that had surrounded her the previous day. She’d woken up feeling refreshed, energetic, ready to tackle whatever life threw at her.

“The jetlag will catch up with us soon,” she said in Korean. It sounded so foreign in the American airport. She stood on her toes, stretching her neck this way and that. “Do you see a large, dark blue Ford pick-up?”

Taewoon scanned the pick-up area. He did, in fact, see many Ford pick-ups. None of them dark blue. “Someone is picking us up?”

“Of course! I would not pay a cab. They’re too expensive. My cousin should’ve been here already.”

“Cousin?”

Eun Mi flashed him a toothy smile, her tongue just peeking out from between her teeth. “One of them anyway.”

The blare of a horn drowned whatever Taewoon had been about to think. He followed the sound to a dark blue Ford pick-up truck. Someone waved at them through the driver’s open window.

“Marisol! Mari!”

Eun Mi threw her hand up, waving just as, if not more, frantically. “Aurelia!”

She stopped waving only to snatch Taewoon’s hand in hers. She nearly dragged him behind her. Taewoon couldn’t understand how such a tiny person could have so much energy and strength. He felt this close from a mental breakdown.

When they reached the vehicle, she threw her cardigan at the girl inside. “Oppa, can you put these in the back?”

Taewoon froze. “Oppa?”

Eun Mi—or was it this new person, Marisol?—flashed him her trademark smile. She pulled him down, kissing his lips softly. Taewoon did as she’d asked, dazed.

“Who’s the big man? A manager?” Aurelia asked the moment Eun Mi slid into the passenger seat. Her English was sprinkled with the seductive accent of a Hispanic woman.

“My boyfriend.”

“Your what?”

Eun Mi grinned, pleased and proud. “His name is Woo Taewoon. His English is better than you think, so be careful about what you say.”

“If he’s good at English, then I’ll spill all your dirty little secrets!”

Aurelia watched her cousin slightly deflate beside her. “I brought him to meet my parents.”

Her statement shocked the English right out Aurelia. “¿Qué?”

Taewoon folding himself neatly into the back seat put an end to that conversation. Aurelia twisted her body to get a good look at him, but the car behind them was already honking obnoxiously.

“Shut up already! Always in a hurry! He just got in!”

Taewoon jumped. The woman behind the wheel taller than Eun Mi by a few inches. She had slick, soft brown hair (obviously dyed, her dark roots were showing, badly), that fell down to her shoulders; short in comparison to her cousin’s. Her voice, however, rang out like thunder; loud, clear, cackling around them.

“Taewoon, seatbelt. They’ll fine you here in the States if you’re not wearing it.”

“Even in the backseat?”

Eun Mi nodded. “It’s the law.”

For the few minutes after the plane had landed, Taewoon had been keeping a tidy tally mark count of all the things that would shock him. He knew it would be impossible to keep it up after he’d seen Eun Mi’s nearly bare shoulders.

He fastened his seatbelt.

“Hey, if you’re going to talk in Korean, interpret for me! Not only that, introduce us!” Aurelia continued to shout as she tried to pull them out of the airport’s tight traffic.

“Oppa, will English be okay? I know you’ve been studying, so this could be a good exercise. If you don’t understand something, tell me and I’ll interpret, okay?”

“I will. But, hey, is the ‘oppa’ thing going to be permanent from now on? Or is that just a one-time deal?”

She smiled at him. It was a smile that he could not quite decipher, the kind that made his heart thunder in his chest and his mind focus only on her. Taewoon both loved and hated that smile.

“From here on out, it’s all going to be in English. Okay?”

“I said include me!” Aurelia swerved into the next lane. A car honked angrily behind them. Eun Mi and Taewoon’s hands both gripped the safety handles.

“I’m going! I’m going! Geez! Stop driving like a crazy woman! You’re going to mess up the tires!”

The casual manner in which Eun Mi addressed her made Taewoon wonder if this cousin was the same age as her. It took him a moment to remember how lax the social hierarchies were in America.

“Taewoon, this is Aurelia. She’s my cousin.”

“Howdy cowboy!” Aurelia said in an awful drawl. “I hear you’re Marisol’s beau!”

“H-hi,” Taewoon cast Eun Mi a confused glance. “Beau?”

“It’s a very, very, very old fashioned way of saying boyfriend. Aurelia is a fossil, so she speaks like one. Don’t be surprised if dust starts flying out of . She’s that old.”

“Hey!”

Taewoon allowed himself a good natured laugh. Eun Mi had spoken slowly, carefully; like that, he had understood everything to near perfection. Also, he had not yet confessed to her just how fluent in English he actually was. That story had to wait until later.

“Yes, I’m her boyfriend. It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Aurelia.”

“Oh please, drop the miss part. I can’t be older than you.”

“You are,” Eun Mi said.

“What? No way!”

“He was born in ’90.”

The truck swerved. Taewoon didn’t know if it was because Aurelia was shocked or because she was that bad of a driver. He honestly feared for his life.

“You’re ting me! Are you telling me I’m a-a- what’s that word you guys use? Unnie! Are you telling me I’m an unnie to that giant in the backseat?!”

“Noona,” Eun Mi corrected. “You’re his noona. Unnie is the terms girls use. How many times have I told you?”

“A thousand? Maybe two? But that’s beside the point! I’m older than your boyfriend!”

“You’re older than most of us anyway.”

Aurelia looked at Taewoon in the rearview mirror. “Listen to me, kid, in America we don’t use the word noona. In fact, it’s banned. Congress banned it just this morning. You call me noona, and you’re dead. Are we clear?”

She had spoken so quickly, Taewoon had missed more than half her words. Eun Mi interpreted, laughing with him.

“Yes, I understand. What do I call you, then?”

“Aurelia. What do I call you? Mari’s novio?”

“N-no-what?”

“Spanish for boyfriend.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “I don’t mind that.”

“Call him Taewoon. Woo Taewoon. His name is Woo Taewoon. Taewoon.”

Aurelia merged into the freeway, finally free from the clutches of the airport. “Calm down. What’s got your in a knot? Do you know, Taewoon?”

He reached over, placing his hand on Eun Mi’s shoulder. She brought her hand up, twining her fingers through his.

He did know. He loved her all the more for it.

Taewoon could not believe how big, how vast the sky was. It stretched over their heads endlessly, an infinite mantle of pure blue. If he lowered his sunglasses for even a few seconds, its color dazzled him. He didn’t understand how it could be so blue.

“It’s different from Seoul,” he muttered.

“What is?” Aurelia asked.

“The sky,” Eun Mi answered.

The neighborhood Aurelia maneuvered around was quiet, peaceful. The homes were huge, all distinct in their own little ways. Some had red tinted bricks, others were grey, and yet others were whiter than white.

“Do you mind dropping me off first?” Aurelia asked at a four way stop. “It’s infernally hot outside.”

“No problem. Is uncle home?”

Taewoon caught the tightness in Eun Mi’s question, saw Aurelia’s plush lips thin into a single line. She gave her head the tiniest of shakes.

“Stop by for dinner sometime. My mom would like to see your face.”

“Sure.”

There would be no family dinner. Taewoon, usually dense to these matters but greatly attuned to Eun Mi’s voice and its varying tones, could understand the heavy tension that descended into the vehicle as the miasmic nature of a family feud.

Aurelia pulled up before a massive adobe house. It stretched up, trying to touch the American sky with only two stories. There was no front lawn; instead, a xeriscaping garden stretched out, stopping only where the sidewalk came into existence. Cacti decorated the ground here and there, peeking from a pretty arrangement of foreign bushes.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Aurelia said as she jumped out of the pick-up. She looked at Taewoon, saluted him with a grin.

Eun Mi slid behind the wheel, Taewoon’s cue to maneuver over onto the passenger seat. Aurelia’s dark eyebrow shot up.

“You guys sure have it all worked out, haven’t you? No room for anyone between you, huh?”

“Nope.” Eun Mi shut the door. “Come over later.”

“I will.”

That promise rang with the intention of being fulfilled.

Eun Mi waited until Aurelia disappeared inside before driving a few houses down. Taewoon didn’t know what to expect. It was only until he saw a grander, larger, more beautiful adobe home that he realized he had been anticipating one.

Unlike Aurelia’s, this one hardly had any desert shrubs. Tiny patches of green grass decorated the areas of the driveway that weren’t paved, stopping against the adobe fence or surrounding the giant boulders that had been placed upon it.

It was a two story home with Spanish tile roofing and beautiful arched windows. The front door gleamed, a polished wood that possessed a seductive orange tint. The driveway disappeared onto an underground garage. Above it, the grandest of the arched windows rested behind a delicate iron balcony.

Eun Mi didn’t guide them into the underground garage, she simply parked them right out front. For a few moments, all she did was gaze at her childhood home, her eyes glazed over and distant.

“Eun Mi?”

She startled. When she turned to him, he could see that she had momentarily forgotten his presence. He took her hand, kissing her knuckles, his eyes locked on hers. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a sudden, desperate kiss.

She needed a lifeline and he was it. She needed to remember her present, to prevent her past from her in.

Without the worry of being recognized, without having to look over their shoulders, hide behind dark tinted windows, or in suffocating rooms, they kissed.

It felt right. It felt wrong. Unusual. Liberating.

The strong, cold blast of the air conditioner stung their hot lips. Taewoon pressed his forehead against hers, caressing her face, her hair.

“Anchored?”

“Anchored.”

He kissed her again, softly. She smiled a tiny smile. Then, with the flick of her wrist, she turned off the A/C while she opened the door, propping it open with her foot.

“Help me with the bags, yeah?”

If the exterior had seemed large, the interior of Eun Mi’s house was huge. The wooden floorboards reflected the sunlight prettily. The wide, arched windows illuminated the rooms perfectly. The walls were decorated with either delicate, near-extravagant ornaments or with family photographs.

In the living room, a large family portrait hung over a chimney (though it proved hard to believe winter existed in this desert).

A happy family of three smiled down at Taewoon. The man had fair skin, a Spanish nose, and small eyes. The woman had dark, wild, curly hair, round cheeks, and playful eyes. The girl between them grinned a grin full of braces, her hair cropped just above her collarbones. Her cheeks showed the early signs of vicious acne. Both adults had her wrapped in a loving embrace. She held onto them with everything she had.

Once upon a time, over late night wine and in between busy schedules, Eun Mi had confided in him how much she hated the idea of plastic surgery. She had not explained why, but now, it was more than clear.

When she looked in the mirror, she saw her parents. She saw her mother in the roundness of her cheeks, her father in the subtle sharpness of her nose. Taewoon could see the resemblance. The man’s sharp edges and the woman’s soft features had produced Eun Mi.

Eun Mi hugged him from behind, clasping her arms around his stomach. She looked at the photograph from around him, resting her chin on his arm, head tilted sideways.

“That’s me, pre-debut.”

He swung his arm behind her, pulling her forward to hold her closer. “How long did you have those scary braces for?”

She ran her tongue over the smooth surface of her teeth, thinking. “About two years?”

“I had mine for about the same time.”

“I didn’t know you had braces.”

“Most people don’t.”

“I should sell this new info to the highest bidder.”

“Who would want to buy such useless information?”

“Me.”

Taewoon held her gaze. Eun Mi held his.

“You’re so cheesy,” he said at length.

“Insert clever pun here!”

She poked him. He twisted violently.

“Hey!”

Eun Mi laughed. “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”

His room turned out to be a smooth, blue and yellow color schemed, slightly vintage-themed place. It was large enough to hold a full-sized bed, dresser, desk, and beside table. He gave it the once over before turning to Eun Mi.

“Where’s yours?”

“Top of the tower. You’ll need a password to get in. Or maybe you’ll have to solve a riddle.”

He got the feeling she’d just made a reference to something, but he couldn’t quite place it. The long hours of flight were catching up to him. Worse yet was the jetlag that seemed to settle in the core of his being despite the previous night’s rest. He didn’t know how long he could stay on his feet.

“Woon-ah,” Eun Mi whispered, sliding her hand into his. She sounded and looked as tired as he felt. “Let’s change and go visit my parents.”