Heyo! I'm feeling generous and decided to post two chapters, you're welcome :~D Hope you like this story, enjoy!

It didn’t take very much when it finally came down to packing up my life and everything I knew. In many ways, it came as somewhat of a relief to finally put certain parts of my life behind me that had always held me back. And I wasn’t really losing anything, except being in such close proximity to my family. I wasn’t particularly sad about parting ways with my mom. She’s always been a constant in my life, but never really gave me enough room to be my own person. As overwhelming as it was to finally choose an identity for myself, I was actually strangely exhilarated about it. Come rain or shine, whatever choices I made from here on out, they were mine. My mistakes would be my own.

I had finally graduated from university and managed to procure a job as a junior copy editor at a small publishing house in New York City. It was the first time that I was travelling the globe. And I had Irene to thank for it. I knew it was pure sanity to even entertain the idea of ever meeting her face to face. We were meant to just be online friends, part of some random blog on the Internet. Writing has always been a passion of mine and it’s exactly what brought me and Irene together. But she had me changing all the rules from the get-go; there was something about her that made me feel braver, more alive, more daring.

So after a 14-hour flight out of Seoul (most of which I spent crying my eyes out for the third time in my life), I finally arrived in New York City. After staying in a boarding house for a few weeks, it didn’t take me long to find a two-bedroom apartment in the city and a new roommate. Her name was Joy and like me, she had just finished college and was starting a new job. Where my passion lay in writing, her passion lay with making drinks. She was a bartender (and a pretty damn good one too) at a bar somewhere in Greenwich Village. It was one of the first places I visited, where I happened to see an ad posted for an apartment.

As far as roommates went, Joy was pretty cool. She was neat, paid the rent on time and easy-going. It’s just too bad that we didn’t always get to hang out at our apartment together because of our different work schedules. While I was at work all day, she spent her time sleeping so that she’d be awake for her night shift at the bar from 8pm-2am. Sometimes, when there was a slow amount of traffic at the bar, I’d often go down there and keep her company while she was serving customers.

Joy was surprised when I admitted that despite being new in town, I did happen to know someone who lived in the city. I had told her briefly about Irene and how we’d met online. Joy was even more surprised that I hadn’t tried harder to get in touch with Irene. Once Irene knew that I was moving to New York, she’d been wondering about the same thing and had even offered to meet me at the airport when I first arrived. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see her, far from it. Maybe it’s stupid, but I wanted the first time when we’d finally meet to be perfect. I’d seen numerous pictures of her and she of me, but it would never compare to the real thing. I’d built up that image of her in my head for so long that when the moment finally arrived, I didn’t want to be disappointed. So while I prepared myself mentally, I told Irene in an email that I was just waiting to get settled into my new apartment and work before we would eventually see each other.

And then it was finally time to bite the bullet. Irene had already told me that she was currently working part-time at an ice-cream parlour (she worked in an ice-cream parlour in my dream too, mind you). I subtly asked her what neighbourhood it was in, and then I made my plans. I took a cab out to Battery Park one Saturday afternoon and asked a few people in passing how to find Da Vinci’s. It took me a good 15 minutes of pacing outside the ice-cream parlour before I was finally ready to make my move.

I opened the glass door on the main entrance and stepped inside. It was a quaint little place with comfy booths along the four corners of the room and several circular tables in the middle. They were only a few people seated at tables and in the booths and two people ordering sundaes at the front. I approached the counter timidly, noticing that Irene wasn’t by the cash register. I hope she was here; otherwise this trip would’ve been for nothing. A woman in her late twenties came from the storage room in the back and approached me with a smile.

“Hi, can I help you?” she asked me cordially.

“Um…I’m still deciding on what I want.” I answered politely with a nervous smile, playing for time.

She nodded and went to answer the phone, which began ringing at that precise moment.

“Hello? Yes, this is Da Vinci’s ice cream parlour. Yes, we make ice-cream cakes for birthdays. Could you hold one moment?”

And then she craned her head around and called out to someone in the back, which made my heart skip several beats.

“Irene! Could you please come and help this customer here in the front?”

I heard someone yell back in the affirmative from somewhere in the storage room and I tried my best to contain myself. The manager smiled at me before returning to her phone call. She moved out of the way when a young woman with dark brown hair came to the cash register and addressed me.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

I had imagined Irene’s speaking voice a thousand times in my head. But her accent was refined in a way that I didn’t expect, especially the way she pronounced certain syllables of certain words, even as a Korean girl speaking English.

“You know what? This is my first time coming to this ice-cream parlour and I’m not sure what to get. What would you recommend?” I asked back in Korean of Irene, hoping my face or tone of voice hadn’t given anything away yet.

It was easy for fellow Koreans to recognise each other in foreign countries and converse together in our mother tongue. Even though Irene had lived in the States for a few years, I knew her Hangul was flawless. She looked intently at my face for the first time since she had approached the counter, and for a split second, I thought she knew for certain who I was. But then the moment passed and her professional mask was back in place.

“I’m sure I can recommend something good for one of my country women,” Irene began with a warm smile that made my heart flutter. We have a few ice-cream sundaes on special today. Like this particular one with three flavours of ice-cream: vanilla, pistachio and Dutch chocolate with chopped almonds, sprinkles and hot fudge sauce.” she explained in a tantalising tone that I knew I already loved just from hearing it once.

“Sounds great, I’ll have that.” I responded a small smile.

She smiled again and turned her back on me to prepare my sundae. This was my cue to start the conversation that I’d been rehearsing in my head all the way into Battery Park on the subway.

“So…are Saturday’s usually your busiest days?” I inquired while drumming my finger nails on the countertop.

“Usually, you just missed the afternoon rush. I take it you’re not from around here?” Irene asked curiously while dishing ice-cream into a sundae bowl.

“Yip, you guessed it. This is actually my first official visit to New York, I just moved here.” I offered casually while watching her work.

“That’s cool. You’re staying in Manhattan?” Irene questioned, applying a stream of hot fudge sauce to my sundae.

“Uh huh, I just moved into a place in the village with my new roommate. It’s close to work, which helps.” I replied nonchalantly.

Then Irene turned to face me, placing my sundae on the counter and tallying it up on the cash register.

“Sure. But my question is…what brings you all the way to Battery Park on a Saturday afternoon for an ice-cream sundae?” she enquired, a devilish smirk on her face which made her dimples show.

“Actually, I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone: get an ice-cream sundae (which I’ve been craving the past few weeks) and visit a friend that I met online who lives in this neighbourhood. Bae Irene.” I replied slowly, waiting for my words to take effect.

The cash register opened abruptly with a loud clang and Irene looked me square in the eye after I said this. She seemed to study my face for the longest time, like she was taking in every subtle detail of it, which made me quite self-conscious under her penetrating stare. Then she opened and asked me a question, and I knew that she finally recognised me:

“You met her online? Like on a blog?” she probed, her nose wrinkled in concentration while she continued looking at me.

“Something like that. It’s more of a fanfic website where you can post really lame stories about characters from TV shows and movies that you love watching. Like a fan site.” I answered, the edges of my mouth widening into a smile.

“Seulgi? Is it really you?” Irene asked in wonder, leaning unconsciously over the counter to look intently at me.

“It’s really me. Nice to finally ‘see’ you.” I remarked pleasantly with air-quotes.

“Holy ,” she murmured in awe while I openly laughed at her obvious surprise.

“When you said you’d let me know when we could meet, I assumed you meant we’d go grab a cup of coffee somewhere first, not show up where I work.” Irene muttered, feigning irritation.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait to finally see you. Pictures have got on the real thing.” I answered truthfully.

Irene smiled broadly at this and came around the corner of the counter where I stood. She finally abandoned all pretence and enveloped me in a warm hug before I could register her actions. I hugged her back, savouring the moment in all its tranquil perfection.

“Same goes for you. Welcome to New York.” She whispered, her eyes shining brightly with anticipation.

“It’s great to be here.”

Seulrene finally meet in person :~D Just to be clear, this story is mainly fictional, so don't read too much into the details. Ok, I'm gonna go make some salmon for my parents. I am such a dutiful daughter :~P Take care and eat candy, cheerio!