Eleven

31 December

I couldn’t possibly to understand being like men. And I’m not only talking about Kim Woobin alone, but about all men out there. Just look at my brothers. They are both weird. Are they naturally born like that? Like they have some kind of general brain dysfunctional compulsion to be born with? Men really are filled with weird stuffs.

***

      My boss was right, almost all of South Korea’s artists whose name skyrocketed from the early ages and whose drama or movies has just been launched were basically present at the Empire that night. I met some of Kang Minhyuk’s band mates who have been occupying one of the corner areas inside the club, who was known to be the VIP area. Two girls who looked eerily similar with each other walked past me; there was cocktail glass on each of their hand. A couple of time passed when I finally realized that they were the first and the second winner of the latest season of K-pop Star, and I was pretty sure that the both of them were still underage to be drinking alcohol.

At last I reached the powder room aka toilet. In comparison with the wildness that took place outside, this seemed to be pretty much tamed. Only a couple of people were inside to dab their faces using their cosmetics in front of the long and sleek mirror pasted on one of the orange colored wall. Perhaps Empire is the only club in Seoul whose toilet is as funky as the club itself. The interior looked more like a hotel’s lobby instead of its basic purpose, with lots of sofas scattered around to encourage people to sit comfortably and just hang out. The lighting itself served as a very magnificent purpose; to make people looked ten times more attractive than the original. But the most important part was that it doesn’t smell like a toilet at all. I’m pretty sure that the air freshener that is being automatically sprayed every five minutes was J’adore. Bottom line, whoever the interior designer for the club is, he/she is genius.

I sat on one of the couches in front of the mirror and took out my blotters. Mom always said that my face is basically the oil factory. No matter how much powder I slammed on my face, it will be gleaming with oil in just two hours.

“Have you seen Stephanie’s older brother?” asked a woman who was busy with her lip-gloss.

“Urgh, he is so HOT!” replied the other while busying herself with powder.

“Stephanie said that he is still single. Can you imagine that?” the first woman continued.

“A hot chunk like him,” the second woman blinked dreamily. “Could it be that he is gay?”

“No way! He looks… too… uhm… what’s the exact word to describe him, I wonder…? Manly. Yes, that’s it. He is too manly to be gay. Anyway, is there something wrong with my overall look?”

I saw the second woman looked at her friend from head to toe, “Nothing’s wrong, why?”

“Because Stephanie’s older brother didn’t even spare an eye at me! How could he?! Men will always have eyes for me.”

“Humph, I’m pretty sure that guy is gay. Trust me.”

“He is so not gay.”

“Gay.”

“Not gay. Wanna bet?”

“You serious?”

“I’m gonna make sure to take him home with me.”

“A hundred thousand won?”

“Two hundred thousand.”

“Deal.”

I tried hard not to roll my eyes. Why would women waste their time to obsess over a man who doesn’t even bat their ways and much less gay? I threw away two pieces of my blotters that I had just used and stepped out of that powder room. I almost got run over by a hoard of women who were in a hurry to get inside the powder room. One of them looked pale enough! Thank God I’ve gotten out or else I’m sure for the next hour, the air will not smell like J’adore at all but more like J’puke. I don’t even get it how could someone let him/herself to drink to the point of losing their mind like that. Don’t they know their own alcohol limit? A wise words for those who are trying to drink for the first time, when you’re starting to laugh out loud without knowing the proper cause, then it’s time to stop drinking. Easy, right?

I peeked at my watch; it said 10:30 PM. I rounded the club in search of my friends, but under the dimmed lights, I couldn’t differentiate the faces. I remembered one of them was wearing the red dress. After narrowing my eyes to have a good look of my surrounding and ended up with no one wearing red dress around, I decided to just call Shinhye as I took a sit on one of the sofas scattered around the dance floor. Thankfully the DJ has changed the course of music from the one insulting a female gender into another one that was most likely served as getting the party started. As I sang along the lyric humbly, I searched for my hand phone inside my clutch. I could felt it vibrating, seemed like Shinhye and I finally clicked. When I checked it, I realized that Shinhye and I still have a long way to go before we finally click.

Woobin: Happy New Year. What are you doing tonight?

Minah: You’re too early for that. Still another hour to go. I’m currently doing nothing.

Woobin: Oh, right. What’s your New Year’s resolution for the next year?

Minah: For you to stop ually harassing me through text messages.

Woobin: Hahaha… That’s a wish of yours, not resolution.

Minah: Hey, it’s up to me.

Woobin: Alright. What would you do willingly to have me stop texting you?

Minah: Sorry. I don’t do negotiation with people in the same class as Osama.

Woobin: May I suggest?

Minah: If there’s the word underwear in it, then I won’t listen to any of it.

Woobin: One snog session with you & I will stop texting you.

Minah: Snog?

Woobin: You know… Kissing? Make-out?

Minah: Hah! You think I want to make-out with you?

Woobin: Mmmhhh… Why? Scared that you might not be able to stop yourself?

Minah: You wish.

Woobin: C’mon, Mimi.

Minah: NO! And I told you already, don’t call me Mimi.

Woobin: Okay, Minah then. Don’t you blame me should you get intensified text messages next year.

Minah: You are worst than Osama, you know that?

Woobin: But you like it, right?

Minah: Has anyone ever told that you have an ego that reaches the sky?

Woobin: Better ego than inferiority.

Minah: U know what, I’m tired of hearing you praising yourself. If you want to make-out with me that bad, meet me at Empire b4 midnight. But if you’re late for even only one second, NOT only that I get not to make-out with you, but you are to stop texting me. Deal?

Woobin: That’s my gal.

Minah: I’m not your gal.

Woobin: Not yet.

I closed my hand phone and once again I felt the giddiness to slap and kiss Woobin at the same time, I smiled despite everything. I didn’t know why, even with tons of jobs piling over my desk in my office, Dad’s worrisome health, and the ever mischievous Woobin, but for the last months I’ve been happier with my life. The clock 11:00 PM and unless Woobin is under the lineage of a Superman, he wouldn’t be able to arrive at Empire within an hour. I had to spend two hours in order to reach the club even though I lived only twenty kilometers away. Seoul was filled with traffic jam everywhere especially when it comes to New Year’s count down moment.

I was just trying to contact Shinhye again when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Automatically, I turned my head. Woobin was there with a bright smile on his face. Right at that time, I realized how I missed that smile for the last couple