SEULGI

 

“And time!” Professor Kiennen called to the sound of resentful murmurs. “Paintbrushes down. Leave your paintings at the easels. Please make sure you’ve put your name legibly on the canvas before walking out. Enjoy your Holidays! See some of you next semester.”

Seulgi put her paintbrush down and stared at the painting before her. It was finished, more or less, and the arrangement of blue hues on the canvas actually looked presentable. She made sure she’d signed the corner as legibly as possible, and retrieved her messenger bag from beneath the stool.

“Kang Seulgi, please come see me before you leave.”

For a moment, Seulgi thought she’d heard wrong. That the professor had called a name that closely resembled her own, but wasn’t. Yet as she looked around, she noticed the looks the other students were throwing her way and she knew it hadn’t been a mistake. Professor Kiennen had called her.

Swallowing nervously, she made her way past the rows of others’ finals and waited for the students saying goodbye to the professor to disperse.

It was the first time the professor had ever called her to his desk after class, and she hoped desperately that she wasn’t somehow in trouble. Had she forgotten an assignment? Had she accidentally looked around while painting, leading him to think that she had copied someone else’s work? She tried not to think about it, as she waited.

The last of the students finally left the room, and the professor turned ice blue eyes on her. “Seulgi,” he said, in a voice that gave no indication whether he was mad or not.

“Yes, Professor?”

He nodded as he turned to look down at something on his desk. Seulgi tried to see what it was, to gain a clue as to what was coming, but nothing popped out. “You submitted a piece called Silence, did you not?”

Seulgi nodded, her heart beating somewhat erratically. She tried draw forth a memory of the painting but came up blank. “I did.”

“It was ...” He paused to look up at her. “inspiring.”

Seulgi let out a breath. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m not in the habit of repeating compliments in order for young, inexperienced artists to feel boastful.”

Seulgi swallowed again.

The ice blue eyes regarded her quietly. When he spoke again, his tone was unreadable. “I would like to feature your painting at the Student Art Show next week at the Hederman Gallery. You may pick three other pieces, approved by me, of course. Your pieces can be put for sale, if you wish them to be. An expert from the gallery will work with you to determine an appropriate cost for each piece. I will not bother to ask whether or not you are interested, as you would be a fool to refuse. So, please be back here Monday morning, at eight sharp, with the pieces of your choice. Bring several options, as I’m very picky and short on time. Good day, Seulgi.”

It hadn’t hit her yet, what he’d said. Not fully. But she recognized that it was a good thing, and responded accordingly. “Thank you, sir! I will be here Monday at eight.”

He had already dismissed her and his disinterest was evident by the way he turned his attention to student work left in the room. She watched him with interest, knowing she should leave, but wanting to see what he thought of her final as he passed it. To her disappointment, he barely gave it a second glance.

She left, then, and walked out of the room. In the hallway, she paused to absorb what the professor had told her. Inspired, he’d called it. Inspired.

She smiled and continued on her way to the subway station. Her art had been chosen. Hers. She walked in a daze. Picturing her art pieces framed and on display. She imagined people walking around them, stopping to look and point and comment. She placed herself in the background, a proud observant. She would be poised and confident. She would politely offer compliments on others’ works. She would shake hands and answer questions and try not to let her excitement show instead as arrogance.

She pushed open the door to her apartment building, not remembering the trip home at all.

The first thought she had as she rode the elevator to her apartment, was of emailing Sooya to tell her. It wasn’t until she’d unlocked the door to her apartment that she realized that her first thought should’ve been of Joy.

 

 

~*~

 

 

JISOO

 

 

Jisoo had spent an extraordinary amount of time in the middle of a very boring conversation with a man who claimed to be a film director, but that Jisoo strongly suspected had simply crashed the party. Her date had gotten a call from the hospital earlier in the evening and had had to cut their evening short. Jisoo had stayed behind, despite not wanting to, because leaving at that point in time would have been in bad taste.

“I have a yacht,” the man was saying. “I don’t sail much anymore. I busted my shoulder rock climbing. Have you ever been rock climbing, Jisoo?”

“I have not,” Jisoo answered.

“Oh it’s a rush! You’d love it. Maybe I could take you some time ...” 

“Jisoo,” a voice said behind her.

Jisoo could’ve kissed whomever it was for saving her, however briefly, from the yawn of a man beside her. When she turned, she nearly blushed. “Jennie,” she greeted, trying to hide her surprise behind, what she hoped, was a casual smile. The director was dressed elegantly in a black, spaghetti-strapped dress. The fabric clung to her every curve, and Jisoo hoped she wasn’t staring.

The man, whose name she remembered was Rick, cleared his throat.

Jisoo turned and smiled politely at him. “I’m sorry, Rick. This is Jennie Ruby. She’s a director too. Jennie, this is Rick Shay. He was just telling me about rock climbing.”

Jennie shook his hand and smiled at him. “Really? You know I climbed K2 last year. Made it to the summit. What’s your highest altitude, Rick?”

Rick coughed. “It’s um ... I’m going to get a refill on this. You ladies want anything?”

“I’m good,” Jisoo said.

“Same here.”

They watched him leave and Jisoo sighed with relief. “You’re my hero. He wanted to give me rock climbing lessons.”

Jennie laughed. “Rick Shay barely knows how to climb out of bed.”

“You know him?”

“He’s my friend’s ex-assistant. He got fired for... well, pretty much what he’s doing now.”

Jisoo smiled. “Did you really climb K2?”

“I barely know how to climb out of bed myself.” Jennie smiled.

Jisoo nodded. “Guess I’m surrounded by pathological liars tonight.”

“It wouldn’t be a Hollywood party otherwise.”

Jisoo laughed at that. “So true.”

Jennie was looking around. “So, where’s your date? I saw him earlier but he disappeared.”

Jisoo found it curious that Jennie had noticed her date, considering he’d been at her side for all of two seconds. “Oh, he had to go back to the hospital. He’s a surgeon.”

Jennie looked impressed. “Nice. That’s so much more noble than what we do.”

“He’s a good man.” Jisoo felt uncomfortable, suddenly, and searched for a different topic of conversation. “Oh, I don’t know if my assistant called you, but New York is a go.”

“She did call me, actually. Though I think it was more so she could ask if she could watch the audition process.”

Jisoo was going to kill Rosé. “I hope you hung up on her.”

Jennie replied with a soft laugh. “Actually, I told her it was entirely up to you.”

“Ooh, poor Rosé.” Jisoo smiled.

“I take it the answer is no?”

Jisoo shrugged, taking a sip of her champagne before responding. “I’ll likely give in at the last minute. I just like torturing her for as long as possible.”

Jennie regarded her curiously. “You have a strange working relationship.”

“She’s a good friend. A good friend that likes to drive me nuts any chance she gets. It’s worse now that she’s dating my best friend. The two of them are ruthless.”

The director laughed. “Sounds like fun.” 

“I suppose it is,” Jisoo admitted.

“Anyway, I’m setting you up at the Plaza. Rosé said that was usually your hotel of choice. I’ll be staying there too. Is that okay?”

“That you’re staying there too?”

“Um... well, I meant the hotel choice, actually... but if my staying there presents a problem...”

Jisoo realized the director was serious. “It’s all fine. I was just teasing.”

Jennie wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. I just didn’t want to assume you’d be okay with everything.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not that picky.”

“I sincerely doubt that’s true,” Jennie said with a laugh. “Your assistant did lay a long list of demands at my feet.”

Jisoo was nodding. “Yeah, those are for her. Evian water in a martini glass with a twist of lemon and half an orange?”

Jennie grinned. “That was number eleven.”

“Yeah, I’m going to kill her.” Jisoo finished off her drink.

“I could always set her up at the Plaza and you at the nearest motel.” 

“Hm. As delightful as that sounds, I think I’ll just rough it at the Plaza.”

“How very brave of you.”

Jisoo smiled, but worried that their conversation was inching ever closer toward awkward silence.

“I was actually about to leave right before I came to say hi to you. Can I offer you a ride home?”

Jisoo regarded the director, thinking it a kind offer. “Thanks, that’s nice of you. I actually have my limo outside. I had the chauffeur drop Daniel off at the hospital and come back.”

“Right.” Jennie nodded as if she’d been stupid to think differently. “Well, it was very nice running into you, Jisoo. I guess I’ll see you in New York next week. I’ll email Rosé all of the details tomorrow so you have them.”

Jisoo smiled, feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief at the director’s departure. She started to watch Jennie leave, then looked away.

She put the empty glass on a passing tray, placed a call to her chauffeur, and made her rounds of goodbyes to the people that mattered. She smiled charmingly at each of them, repeating their names so they knew she remembered; to feed the illusion that they were all friends, and that they all mattered to one another.

Outside, she found her chauffeur waiting faithfully for her return, and she smiled at him as he straightened himself up and approached the door to open it. She ignored the flashes of ever-present cameras, the voices calling out her name in a desperate attempt to catch a good picture.

“I trust you had a pleasant evening, Ms. Kim.” His voice sounded far away in the noise that surrounded them.

“I did, thank you, Samuel.” She slid into the plush leather seating and breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her.

She watched the flashes of light continue as someone else emerged from the restaurant. Already, she lay forgotten in their minds, replaced by the next potential photograph. She had chosen this life, she reminded herself. She had positioned herself as the object of fleeting interest and passing attentions. Without ever coming out, she still risked losing it all eventually; in a week, in a month, in a decade.

There would come a time, perhaps soon, when the cameras wouldn’t point in her direction, when the voices wouldn’t remember her name. There would come a time when she would think back on moments like this and she’d ask herself, what had she gained from it all? What had it all been for?

 

 

~*~

 

 

SEULGI 

 

 

“I wonder what she looks like,” Seulgi found herself saying. She dug her spoon into the carton of ice cream and scooped up a huge chunk of cookies ‘n cream, which managed, despite gravity, to land in without consequence.

Joy was in the living room, surrounded by all of Seulgi’s art. Seulgi had placed her best friend in charge of choosing the pieces for the art show since she, herself, was incapable of making such a decision. “What who looks likes?”

“Sooya,” Seulgi said. “All I know is she has brown hair and brown eyes. I keep picturing her short. A little chubby, maybe. It’s so weird being friends with someone and not knowing what they look like. Come to think of it, I don’t even know what she does for a living. Maybe it’s something bad. Maybe she’s a drug dealer.”

“I like this one,” Joy said, holding up a canvas.

Seulgi glanced in her direction, noting that the painting Joy had chosen was the one she’d made for Sooya. “I’m not sure I want to display that one.”

“Why not? I think it’s great.”

Seulgi shrugged. Why not, indeed. It was silly to keep it as a gift for someone she didn’t even know, and who, come to think of it, hadn’t replied to her email in days. 

“I asked for her phone number and she didn’t write back. Do you think I freaked her out?”

“I still think she’s a beer-bellied middle-aged bald guy who likes to kill kittens.” She held the painting higher. “Can I put it in the pile?”

“Yeah, sure. Professor Kiennen has last say, anyway.” Seulgi dropped the now empty spoon into the now empty carton and put her chin on the back of the chair. She watched Joy for a moment. “Do you think online friendships are weird?”

“I think friendships in general are weird. I mean, look at us. Who’d think we’d be friends?” Joy stepped over the myriad of art on the floor to come sit at the table. “Why, are you having second thoughts about your email buddy?”

Seulgi shook her head, soft brown hair brushing against her cheek with the movement. She pushed the hair back and out of her face. “No, not really. I guess I’m just having trouble keeping it to the online arena. I want to call her and meet her or something. You know? Make sure she’s real.”

“And not a serial killer.”

Seulgi smiled. “She’s not a serial killer. And I highly doubt she’s a middle-aged man.” She moved her shoulders as if to shrug and acquiesce to the truth. “But yeah. I mean, I guess I never know for sure, and I don’t really feel comfortable asking her directly.”

“Maybe she works for the FBI or the CIA or one of those secret government organizations.”

“See? That’s the thing. She very well could work as a government spy.”

“Or a terrorist.”

Seulgi sighed thinking it’s a depressing subject now and wishing she hadn’t brought it up. The truth was, she missed Sooya’s emails, and the weight of their absence confused her. She turned to the scattered pieces of art. “Did you narrow it down?”

“Yup. Did I mention how proud I am of you? Cause I am. I can’t wait for the showing. I’m already making flyers and passing them out at work.”

Seulgi smiled, her mood brightening with the memory of her upcoming show. “Let’s hope Professor Kiennen likes the rest as much as he liked the one I submitted. He’s such a scary man.” She rose and began to collect the artwork.

“Did you tell your lesbian about the art show?”

“She’s not my lesbian. And no, ‘cause she hasn’t written back to me since I asked for her number. For all I know she thinks I’m totally intrusive and doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“I’m sure if she knew you were hot she’d be singing a different tune. Maybe she thinks you’re ugly.”

Seulgi rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Well, if she’s that weird about things, maybe it’s for the best.”

“Maybe.” She added nothing else to that, feeling no desire to reveal how panicked she felt at the thought of Sooya never writing to her again. Seulgi carried a stack of paintings to her room. She placed them down on their usual corner and sat on the bed. All day she had busied herself with a long to-do list of chores. She had selected the outfit she would wear on her first day of work; she had sat down to pay the bills; she had written a list of presents to buy the people she knew; she had studied for Art History.

Now, she had run out of steam and things to do and the only thing she could think about was checking her email.

“I’m taking a shower,” Joy announced from the doorway. “A couple of guys I know from work are having a get-together at their apartment tonight. Wanna come?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I still have a lot of studying to do.” It was a good excuse, even if it wasn’t exactly the truth. Saying that she simply didn’t feel like going didn’t feel like enough of a reason.

“See you later then.”

Joy disappeared into the bathroom and Seulgi got up to close the door. Alone in her room, she stood and looked around. Her bed was disheveled as usual, and she suddenly wished she could get into the habit of making it in the mornings. A made bed always looked nicer, cozier, inviting.

She liked the idea of her room as a place of relaxation, as a place she could go to escape from the world. It could’ve been, maybe, except the heater was partly broken and no matter what she did the room never felt warm enough. The ceiling was stained from occasional leaks. The walls could use a few coats of paint.

It wasn’t a cozy place, not big nor luxurious, but it was home. It was the home she hoped to look back on someday and smile fondly over, while being secretly pleased that she no longer had to live there.

She took her computer and her books and went back out into the living room, depositing everything on the coffee table. She would study after all, she decided, settling down on the couch. She would study because she had to and because she didn’t want to feel like she’d lied to Joy. She would study because studying meant she wouldn’t check her email and find herself disappointed to find only junk mail waiting for her there.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

JISOO

 

Jisoo had never thought of herself as the type of person that might pace around a room. She had always made decisions in a calm, rational manner, and usually in the company of a nice French wine. Pacing, she had always thought, was for crazy people.

Yet, there she was, burning a path in the carpet of her room from having walked back and forth so many times. She held her cell phone tightly in one hand and Seulgi’s business card in the other. She had spent the entire morning trying to convince herself that calling Seulgi was a terrible idea, that they would have nothing to say to one another. They’d fall into awkward silences and then struggle to fill the void with meaningless chit-chat. It would be painful and uncomfortable the whole way through and they would both sigh in relief the second it was all over. Why put them both through that?

She then spent the earlier part of the afternoon convincing herself that maybe that’s exactly what they both needed; to find out that their friendship, however nice on a computer monitor, had no chance of extending beyond it. It was a noble way to end things.

Undoubtedly, the experience would mar the fragile threads of their communication, spreading into their email exchanges and eventually causing the entire thing to self-implode. It would be mutually painless; an unspoken agreement to walk away with no hard feelings.

Jisoo began to dial and then hung up before pressing the final number. She couldn’t just call without any warning. What if Seulgi wasn’t there? What if she was busy and Jisoo was interrupting?

She looked at the computer, knowing she hadn’t answered Seulgi’s last email and feeling irrationally guilty over it. “She probably hasn’t even noticed.”

She sighed, sitting at the edge of her bed. She stared at the phone. What excuses would she even give for not writing back? She had been busy, sure, but she could’ve written. She flipped open the phone again and started dialing. She could feel her heart doing summersaults in her chest as she pushed each number. She forced herself to breathe as she pressed the phone to her ear and listened to it ring. 

 

“I need to get my head examined.”

“... and why do you need to be friends with a middle-aged man for anyway? Think on the kittens,” said a voice, followed by, “Hello?”

Jisoo cleared realizing for the first time since dialing the severity of what she was doing. “Hello. Is Seulgi home?”

“It’s a strong possibility. Whom might I say is calling?”

“It’s... um, Sooya...” The name felt awkward on her tongue, having been years since she’d used it.

There was a slight pause. Then, “No in’ way. The lesbian? Really?”

Jisoo flinched slightly at the term ‘the lesbian’. Seulgi had told her. Of course she had... “Look, I’m really glad you called, cause she’s been moping around like--”

From the other end of the line came muffled screaming, and a ruffling kind of sound that culminated with a loud thud. Then there was a different voice on the line, saying, “Hi? Hello?”

The voice gave Jisoo pause, as she thought for a split second how sweet it sounded. 

“H- hi, Seulgi?”

“That’s me. Sorry about Joy. She’s heavily medicated.”

“Am not!” Jisoo heard in the background.

“Well, she should be, anyway,” Seulgi amended with a short laugh.

Jisoo could hear a door closing and she wondered if Seulgi had changed locations. 

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to find something to say. She hadn’t thought to imagine what Seulgi’s voice might sound like. She had, on occasion, wondered what Seulgi looked like, but had never managed to settle on a single image. Her voice, on the other hand, had never entered Jisoo’s thoughts. “Is this a bad time to be calling?”

“Not at all. I wasn’t doing anything important. Joy was just leaving to a party. Hey, how did you get my number?”

“It was on your card.”

“Oh! Right. I forgot you had that. Wow. I can’t believe we’re actually talking on the phone.”

Seulgi sounded nervous and it gave Jisoo an odd sense of courage. “I’m sorry about not writing to you this week. I wish I had a good excuse.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not like we have some kind of immediate response rule or something. I think I’m just glad you’re okay. You are okay, right?”

“I’m fine.” Jisoo smiled at the sound of concern on Seulgi’s voice. Then wondered why Seulgi should care at all. “Just tired. I went to a party last night and got home pretty late.”

“Was it fun?”

Jisoo thought of Jennie briefly. “It ended well enough. I spent most of the time talking to a guy that was trying to impress me by talking about his yacht and mad rock climbing skills.”

The sound of Seulgi’s laughter made Jisoo’s heart skip. “Did he finally get the hint that you weren’t interested? Unless yachts and rock climbing are the secret keys to your heart?”

“Hardly. I was mercifully rescued by someone much nicer.” 

“Oh?”

Seulgi sounded intrigued and Jisoo knew she was inching toward dangerous waters. “Yeah, um... a colleague I guess you could call her.”

There was a brief pause before Seulgi said, “I’m sorry if this crosses the line for you or anything, but... what is it that you do exactly?”

Jisoo hesitated. “I’m actually between projects at the moment so... I’m not doing much of anything.”

“Oh.”

Jisoo searched her room for a way out of the conversation. She had no idea how to answer Seulgi’s questions without putting a big fat lie on the table. She sighed softly. “I have a degree in creative writing with a focus on screenwriting.” It was a random thing to say, but at least it wasn’t a lie. It was a dusty kind of truth, the kind she had stored away beside her occasional dream of being a chef.

“So you’re a writer?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as calling myself that. A wannabe, maybe.” Jisoo wanted desperately to change the subject. “So, how are your finals going?”

“One more to go and then freedom. Oh! I wanted to tell you, I got selected for that student art show!”

“Congratulations!” Jisoo felt an inexplicable desire to hug Seulgi through the phone, to pull her close and bounce around like children. “You must be excited.”

“I don’t have the words, actually,” Seulgi said with a laugh. “I’ll send you an invitation if you want. I know you can’t make it, being all the way in California...”

“I’d love one,” Jisoo said. “When is it?”

“It opens next Thursday and runs through the weekend.”

Jisoo’s mind spun with the realization that she’d be in New York then. “Is it a school thing?”

“Well, sort of. Not really, though. It’s being held at the Hederman Gallery, which is one of the more upscale galleries downtown. The show’s going to be a mixture of well-known contemporary artists and student artists from several Universities in the state. Part of the proceeds from the artwork get donated to art education programs. It’ll probably attract a wide range of people, I think. Last year’s was pretty successful from what I read.”

The thoughts running through Jisoo’s mind were only the next in an already long line of stupid ideas. “That’s amazing, Seulgi,” she said. “You completely deserve it.”

“Thanks. I’m still a bit in shock, honestly. I mean, I talk about it, but it hasn’t really hit me yet, you know? Anyway, I’ll write to you afterwards and tell you all about it.”

“I’d like that.” But I wouldn’t miss being there for the world, Jisoo found herself thinking. 

 

 

~*~

 

SEULGI

 

Seulgi held the phone tightly to her ear, afraid to miss anything of what Sooya might say. She’d felt Sooya’s hesitation in talking about her work. Perhaps Sooya shared the same frustration she did, that of being unable to transcend the expectations she’d placed upon her art. There was more to it, Seulgi knew, or thought she knew, but she’d let the subject drop. Maybe someday Sooya would feel comfortable opening up about whatever it was. In the meantime, Seulgi didn’t want to push.

“So tell me about your merciful hero,” Seulgi said. “She who saved you from the evils of boring conversation.”

Thousands of miles away, Sooya laughed, and Seulgi found that she liked being able to hear the sound so close to her ear.

“I don’t know much about her, honestly. She’s nice as far as I can tell.” 

“And... attractive?”

There was that laugh again, nervous and reserved. “Yes, I think she is. What about that guy that your friend set you up with?”

“Kai?” Seulgi conjured up his memory. “I don’t know him at all.”

“But... attractive?”

Seulgi smiled. “He has beautiful eyes, actually. And the rest of him isn’t bad.”

“What color are his eyes?”

“Honey.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“Eye color?”

“Sure... or in general.”

Seulgi ran inventory of all the colors she could think of. “I love forest green. I think that’s my favorite color. But I think I like brown eyes on the others. I did say I always wanted blue eyes for myself though.”

“And blue hair.”

“That too.”

“Why didn’t you ever dye it blue then?”

“Honestly? I’m not that brave. I fear my hair would fall out at the mere sight of bleach.” The laugh came again, and Seulgi was pleased to find it lacking in both nervousness and reservation. For the first time since Seulgi had answered the phone, Sooya sounded relaxed. “But I take it you don’t have that fear?”

“So far, my hair has managed to stay firmly rooted to my head despite all of the horrific things that have been done to it.”

“I hope you didn’t jinx yourself just now.”

“If my hair starts to fall out, I’ll know who to blame.”

“Yourself?”

“Nope. You. I wouldn’t have jinxed myself if you hadn’t asked about my hair.”

Seulgi grinned. “You wouldn’t have jinxed yourself if you hadn’t been so overly confident and tempted the hair loss gods.”

“Hmph,” came Sooya’s reply, and Seulgi felt an odd surge of affection for this girl she barely knew.

Her cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling so much. “It’s nice getting to talk to you like this,” Seulgi found herself saying. She had been nervous about calling Sooya, even if it had been her idea. She never imagined that Sooya would call her first, or that their conversation wouldn’t feel as awkward as she’d expected it to.

“I thought it would be a lot weirder than it is,” Sooya said.

“So you think it’s still somewhat weird?”

“No. Not weird. I guess I’m still a little nervous. Is that stupid?”

Seulgi smiled briefly. “No, I’m nervous too. It makes sense to be, I think.”

“I guess.”

They fell into silence then, and Seulgi panicked until she realized that it didn’t feel necessarily uncomfortable. “This call must be costing you a fortune.”

“Nah, I got a free time deal too”

“They’re great, aren’t they? I feel like I need to make friends in other states more often just so I can take advantage.”

“You can always start emailing people out of the blue. That seemed to work okay for me.” 

“Oh, so you email everyone whose work you like?”

“Yes. Just this morning, I thought the guy who bagged my groceries did an awesome job. I emailed him to tell him so.”

“I’m amazed you found time to call me, then, what with all of the other people you need to flatter.” Seulgi could tell Sooya was smiling and the thought made her heart jump slightly. She suddenly and fervently hated the fact that they lived on opposite sides of the country, and that neither had any way of knowing if they would ever get to meet.

“Seulgi?”

“I’m here, I’m sorry. I spaced.”

“Am I boring you?”

“Terribly. What were you talking about? Rock climbing? Yachts?” 

“Nope. Hiking. And canoes.”

Seulgi laughed, feeling, all the while, a mild sense of regret that Sooya wasn’t sitting in front of her at that moment. It seemed like a trivial desire, the need to see someone when talking to them, but it felt strong. She wondered if Sooya had similar thoughts, or if she was content for Seulgi to remain a series of typed letters on a computer screen; a voice at the other end of the phone.

“Are you spacing again?”

“I am. I’m sorry. I think I’m just tired.”

“I shouldn’t have called so late. I forgot about the time difference.”

Seulgi glanced at the clock. It was barely ten. “It’s not late at all. I’ve just been up late studying and waking up early and I think the lack of sleep has turned my brain to mush.”

“Get some sleep then. It was really nice talking to you.”

“Thanks for calling,” Seulgi said, somewhat disappointed to see the end of the conversation. “Maybe I can return the favor sometime.”

“I’ll email you my number.”

Seulgi smiled at that. “Okay. Have a good rest of your day, Sooya.” 

“Good night, Seulgi.”

Seulgi clicked off the phone and stared up at the ceiling from her place on the bed. A print of Lucas van Valckenborch’s Autumn stared down at her. Another gift from Sehun she intended to keep. He’d brought it back from one of his family trips to Paris. It had always been one of her favorite paintings.

The thought of Paris drew her back to Sooya and she smiled at the sound of the voice still resounding in her ear. Sooya had a nice voice, Seulgi decided. It was decidedly not a middle-aged man’s.

She dragged her laptop from its place at the foot of her bed and opened it. She found the invitation the professor had emailed her the evening before and saved it. Opening a fresh email, she attached the file.

 

To: Sooya Kim 

From: K. Seulgi

Subject: You are cordially invited...

 

Here’s the invitation I promised. I really wish you didn’t live so far so you could come. :)

Your friend, Seulgi

P.S. I really enjoyed our phone conversation. I’m really sorry for being so spacey.

 

 

 

~*~

 

JISOO

 

 

Jisoo stared at the phone for a long time after hanging up. With Seulgi it always felt as if she were living a different version of her life; the one that might’ve, could’ve been had she picked a different path. It was easy to imagine the other side of the coin; the life without fame, if not fortune. It was easy to pretend that Sooya Kim was still a living, breathing human being, instead of a memory; instead of the idea of the person she could have been.

If she had lived that life, if she had risen each morning and gone outside, blended into the crowd, lived just as Sooya, heiress to a family fortune, sure, but nothing special beyond that; if that had been her life, would she be happy? Would she have found fulfillment in being ordinary? Had she met Seulgi then, in that other life, would she have felt it okay to reveal every minute detail of her life, every pointless thought, every dream, without fear of consequence?

Jisoo stared at the phone and recognized at once that a situation, already complex, had become something more. Now, beyond the faceless words on a computer screen was a voice; a person.

A very sweet person, Jisoo thought, tossing the phone on the nightstand. She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling above her, at the white ridges of paint that hung like upside-down mountains on a snow-covered field. She listened to the ocean, to the wind, to the sound of raindrops on the windows. A minute passed, then two; and she felt, for the briefest of moments, a deep pang of regret; a longing for a different life.

But it passed as quickly as it had come; returned to the realm of unwelcome emotions and left her alone to think about Seulgi’s voice; and how wonderful it had felt to make her laugh.

 

~.~

 

Rosé examined the printed piece of paper in her hand for the longest time, reading through it several times in case she had missed something. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at Jisoo. “You want me to do what?”

“I want you to find a reason for me to be there,” Jisoo said. “Find me a charity, a cause, whatever. Just let them know I’m coming. Oh, and tell my publicist. I wouldn’t mind some press at this event.”

Rosé looked back down at the invitation. Since when had Jisoo cared about art? When was the last time she’d gone out of her way to be anywhere? “Is this about the artist?”

“Yes,” Jisoo said, looking up from the suitcase on the bed. “Yes, it’s about the artist. Okay?”

Rosé stared at the actress, unsure of what to say next. She placed the invitation in her portfolio and nodded. “I’ll get it done.”

“Thanks.” Jisoo returned to her packing, surveying the items piled up on the bed and running a mental check-list of the things still left unclaimed. “I hate packing.”

“I know you do. You should hire a professional packer.”

Jisoo paused to look at Rosé . “Do they have those?”

“I’m sure they do. You want me to look into it for you?”

Jisoo made a face. “No. I think that would be a little excessive.”

“So, is that all for now? I have about eight billion errands to run before we leave tonight.” Jisoo smiled.

“You should hire an assistant to do all of that.”

“Maybe someday,” Rosé said, with a laugh. “Jackson and I are working on a screenplay together.”

Jisoo looked back at her, surprised. “Seriously? He’s taken you into the dark side with him, then? What was it he said his next project was about; the trials and tribulations of fruit?”

Rosé laughed. “Yeah, he’s still working on that, actually. Something about life as an apple. I haven’t been able to talk him out of it. Ours is more of a social commentary about... well, we’ll let you read it when it’s done. So far it’s just a bunch of chicken scratch.”

“Good luck with that.” She meant it, even if she was in no hurry to lose Rosé to the outside world. Rosé, like everyone else in Hollywood, had dreams that transcended the everyday routine of the nine-to-five job. It had been part of the reason, Jisoo knew, why she’d become Jisoo’s assistant in the first place.

“Thanks,” Rosé said as she moved toward the door. On the doorway, she stopped and turned around. “Jisoo, if you want to talk...”

“About?” 

“Anything...”

Jisoo looked at her assistant, saw the genuine concern and interest radiating behind wire- rimmed glasses. “Seulgi will have her work in an art show. I want to be there.”

“But she won’t know it’s you.”

Jisoo shrugged. “I’ll know it’s me.”

“I bet that would be nerve-wracking, seeing her in person.”

There were scarier things, Jisoo thought, but she honestly couldn’t think of any. She smiled. “It’s going to be terrifying.”

Rosé offered a sympathetic smile, then looked serious again. “I know you’re going to hate me for asking this but... do you have feelings for her?”

“I admire her artistic talent,” Jisoo said naturally, easily, as if it were the simplest of truths. “I feel that if I were anyone else in the world instead of who I am, we’d be great friends.”

“What’s stopping you from being her friend anyway? You’re a great person, Jisoo. She’d see that no matter what.”

Jisoo stifled the impulse to sigh. “Thanks, but we both know it doesn’t work that way. Once she knows who I am, she won’t see me the same way. Kim Jisoo isn’t someone to befriend. She’s someone to ask for an autograph, she’s a picture to hang on a wall. She’s someone to envy for her air-brushed perfection and Hollywood life. She’s as fictional as the characters she plays.” She shrugged, feeling depressed. “I’m just the person that plays her. Nothing more.”

To Jisoo’s surprise, Rosé smiled. “You have feelings for her.” She did sigh this time. 

“Rosé...”

“Relax, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re in love with her or anything as dramatic as that. But you care. You care enough to go to the art show, and you care enough to worry whether or not she’d recognize your voice on the phone. Hell, you even cared enough to wonder whether or not she’d still like you if she knew you were gay. Did you ever tell her, by the way?”

Jisoo didn’t answer. She simply tossed a shirt into the suitcase and ignored the smile on Rosé’s face.

“How did she take it?” 

“She took it fine.”

“You know, you’re allowed to care about people, Jisoo. You’re allowed to make friends. It’s not like you’re made of stone.”

I wish I was, sometimes, Jisoo thought to herself. Things would be easier. “Didn’t you have errands to run?”

Rosé let out a sound that closely resembled a motherly sigh. The kind of sound reserved for moments when words could not express the appropriate levels of frustration. “I do. See you tonight.”

Jisoo listened to the retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door opening and closing. For a long time, she stared at the empty spaces in the suitcase. She wanted, at that moment, nothing more than to call Seulgi again. To tell her she was packing for a trip to New York. That she’d be at the art show on Thursday. That maybe, afterwards, they could go out for coffee and talk about how weird it was that they were both there, in the same place, instead of thousands of miles apart.

She couldn’t call and say that, so she didn’t call at all. Instead she moved around the room, collecting the vital pieces of her life that would follow her to New York.

 

 

~.~

 

 

SEULGI 

 

“Black or blue?” She held each garment up to her chest.

“The event runs several days,” Joy said by way of an answer, meanwhile shoveling a spoonful of cereal into .

“Yeah, but opening night is special. I mean, I’ll still be excited on Friday and Saturday and Sunday, but nothing will equal Thursday night. It has to be the right dress.”

Joy nodded in understanding. “Then I guess it depends what you’re going for.”

“Well, I want to look good; professional, but artistic. I want to convey class, while still reserving the right to look creative. But not too creative. Not like I’m trying too hard. I don’t want something that says, ‘Hey, I’m an artist, and here are my clothes to prove it’. You know?”

Joy dropped the spoon in the bowl and regarded each dress in turn with what looked to be serious contemplation. “Definitely the blue.”

Seulgi looked at the dress. “You think?” 

“Yeah. It shows more cleavage.”

Seulgi nodded. “Okay, the black it is. Thanks.”

“Any time. Hey, I’m going on that date with Kasey tonight so don’t worry when I don’t come home.”

“The star? I thought you already went out with him?”

“No, we spoke on the phone. He had to cancel our plans for Friday so we moved them for tonight. It meant taking the night off from work but since I’m fully expecting the best of my life, I figure it’s worth it.”

“Okay, then.”

“Speaking of , how was the phone conversation with your lesbian?”

“She’s not my lesbian.” Seulgi hung the dresses in the living room closet and frowned at her friend. “And what does my phone conversation have to do with ?”

“Did you have phone ?” 

“Of course not!”

“Then I guess nothing. How did it go? She sounded rather young and feminine for a bald, middle-aged kitten killer.”

Seulgi smiled, deciding to ignore Joy’s comment. “It went really well. She’s every bit as nice as she seemed online.”

“Have you exchanged pictures yet?”

“No.”

Joy was nodding. “She’s probably fug.”

“What does it matter what she looks like?”

Joy shrugged. “It doesn’t, I guess. What’s the point, though? Of talking to her, I mean. What can you tell her that you can’t tell me?”

Seulgi shrugged and sat down at the table. “It’s not really about that. You have tons of friends besides me.”

“I have people I go out with to drink and have fun with sometimes. It’s not like we talk about deep and meaningful things. I don’t tell them the things I tell you. But you and her... all you do is exchange personal narrative. What for? Doesn’t it get redundant?”

Seulgi thought about it, trying to decide why talking to Sooya seemed so much different than talking to Joy. “You’re very different people. I like getting her perspective on things. It’s not better than yours or anything. It’s just different. Besides, I find her interesting. And she’s funny.”

“I’m funny.”

“This isn’t a competition.” Joy shrugged.

“And she’s funny in a different way.” 

“What way is that?”

“I don’t know. She’s... witty, I guess.” 

“Am I not witty?”

“Joy, you’re still the funniest person I know. I don’t have an exact definition for what you are.”

Joy seemed pleased by that. “So she’s witty.”

“Yeah... I think she is, anyway.” Seulgi regarded Joy curiously. “Why all the questions?”

“I read somewhere that people surround themselves with those that fulfill a basic need in them. I was wondering what need Sooya was fulfilling for you.”

Seulgi thought about it and sat back. “Guess I really needed a long distance friendship with a lesbian.”

Joy laughed. “Guess so.”

 

 

 ~*~

 

JISOO

New York, Jisoo thought, looking up at the skyscrapers from the window of the limousine. Here she was again.

“... when I get to the hotel,” Rosé was saying into her phone. “I miss you too... aww... really? ...”

Jisoo tuned her out, concentrating instead on the sights outside. Seulgi was out there somewhere, she realized, watching the crowds of people pass by in clumps of blurry faces. She might have already passed her and never known it. Seulgi was out there, somewhere, eating dinner, planning for her art show, living her life. And Jisoo was here, moving slowly along in New York City traffic, watching the world, living her life.

“Jackson’s flying up tomorrow,” Rosé said suddenly, and Jisoo turned her head to find Rosé smiling brightly.

“Why?”

“He said it’s because he finds New York inspiring, but I strongly suspect he misses the . Or me. Or both. Hopefully both.”

“All fine reasons.” Jisoo turned her attention back to the window.

“Jennie’s meeting you for drinks at the hotel bar at nine thirty.”

“I remember,” Jisoo said. She had been looking forward to the distraction since Rosé had first mentioned it. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“Room service,” Rosé answered simply. “And calling Jackson. And maybe a really long bath. Not sure which will come first.”

It sounded like a pleasant way to spend an evening, Jisoo thought, as the hotel came into view. Her own plans were equally simple in nature: check her email, take a shower, meet with the director, check her email again.

She wondered what Seulgi’s plans were like. Did they involve checking her email as well? Jisoo tried to imagine Seulgi, sitting at a computer somewhere, typing. She still couldn’t quite picture her. The Seulgi in her mind was as blurry and undefined as the people on the sidewalk.

Rosé was back on the phone, introducing herself to whomever was on the other end of the line. “Please tell the manager that Kim Jisoo has arrived.”