July 2016

 It all started before she boarded the 787 on her way to Paris for the greatest high fashion show of the year.  Her assistant who was old enough and wise enough to be her grandfather handed her an envelope with a golden seal.  Nana thought it was another love letter perhaps from that actor from that drama W or that vocalist from that group she couldn’t quite recall.  Was it Block B or INFINITE?  There were too many admirers to count--  Suga, Zico,  and that giraffe from Running Man--  Lee Kwang So.  Was this a mission from his show?   She grew excited for a brief second and then she examined the fine calligraphy writing with her name on the envelope.   She placed a manicured finger underneath the seal, slid it open and cracked the tip of a nail.  Instead of screaming bloody murder from the pain, Nana read the letter silently.   She crumbled it and then turned to her assistant. 

“He’s getting married,” she said as her voice quivered. 

“What do you mean?”  Her assistant asked. 

“This is his wedding invitation.”

Nana thought she was unlucky in love, but this proved it.  She fantasized about her own wedding with him in Paris, wearing a couture gown in front of the Eiffel Tower.  Her dream turned into a wishful thought.  He was marrying another woman and she was a hopeless loser. 

The flight attendant, a young woman with a neat bun and a blue lapel jacket interrupted her reverie.  She signaled for her to move forward and Nana refused to budge. 

“You need to allow other passengers to find their seat.  You are blocking their way,” the flight attendant reprimanded. 

Nana half smiled.  She wasn’t one for rudeness and although she was outspoken half the time, she let this one pass.  She was too engrossed thinking about the unforeseen wedding.  Without glancing at her ticket and with tears rolling down her eyes,  she rushed down the aisle to the front of the plane.  She found the first available seat and plopped back against the soft soothing leather.   She opened up her handbag, pulled out a sleep mask and slid it on her sunken eyes to hide her fallen tears.   She hoped to fall asleep and forget about the dreadful wedding invitation, but her thoughts turned again back to him.  Bothered by them, she turned her head towards the window seat and whispered to her assistant--  “You’re a man.  Tell me please.   Where did I go wrong? ” 

Her assistant who was usually a chatterbox didn’t answer and his silence although disconcerting proved reassuring. 

“I know that I am the one who is pursuing him.   It took me months and calls to friends in the fashion industry to muster up an invitation from Karl Lagerfeld just to see him.  I won’t lie to you— I secretly love him and now when I’ve been given a chance to spend time with him in Paris then it’s too late.  It’s unfair,” she cried. 

Her assistant handed her a tissue.   Nana blew her nose. 

“I. . . I’ve known him before high school and even then he had many girls after him, but he liked me.  I rode on his scooter.  We ate fried chicken by the bonfire and drank beer although I was under age back then.  I broke rules, you know and curfew for him.   He never paid for anything since he was so cheap,” Nana said with a broken laugh.   “I used all my babysitting money on that crazy bastard.  For what!  He didn’t even recognize me on set during his cameo on my last drama.  I spent all of my time, pining away, wasting my time to earn his love for this.”

Her assistant patted her gently on her back.  N