<As if Kim wasn’t enough trouble for a day, now I’m faced with two equally dangerous paths: ... provide unwavering support for Congressman Lee and ruin the bill’s approval lest he launches his own attack on my political career and personal life>

“I am very honored and grateful to be appointed to be Speaker of the Assembly. This appointment shows that we are able to shed our ego and personal agenda, and stand together for the best interest of the nation. Together, leaving behind our party flags, we will create a stronger voice. Together, shedding our personal interests, we will stand firmly by the side of the Korean citizens. Together, we will prevail. Thank you.”

Congressman Lee makes an otherwise cheesy speech tolerable by his sheer charisma and posture. He breaks record as the youngest Speaker of the Assembly – moreover coming from the opposition party. The past months have been showcases of crazy political maneuvering, and the Congressman has once again showed his capability.

I must say I’m swoon over and over again.

The first nights after Kim’s public support of the sanitation bill were messy. Congressman Lee didn’t return my calls or texts. I had to go the dangerous path of exchanging greetings in the Assembly hall and slipped memos in his briefing documents to grab his attention and finally called me to the boutique hotel.

“Are you disobeying me? I have reiterated that the only thing I do not want you to do is to publicly show that you know me. These memos and greetings need to stop. What would people think if they see Congressman Kang’s prized intern rubbing shoulders with the opposition’s lead?” the Cohiba cigar smoke heavy in the room. The Congressman never smoked cigarette since his university days – he wants only the finest for special occasions and he does not settle for anything less than the famed Cuban cigar.

“I humbly apologize for my foolish actions, Sir. But how else would I get you to respond to me?”

“We agreed early on that I control this relationship. You will obey me. And you disappointed me.”

“I apologized and it will not happen again, Sir. You, out of all people, would know how tricky my position is. I need to strike balance between supporting and destroying Kang.”

“I see all supporting and no destroying.”

The Congressman stood up from his sofa and grabbed his blazer, ready to walk out of the room. I couldn’t afford losing his trust – and alas, on top of all my political exchanges and agreements with him, I actually, honestly, enjoy his company.

“Give me a week.”

My sudden stern stance must have piqued his interest for he stopped on his track and inhaled his Cohiba once more.

“Give me a week and I will show you how valuable it is for you to keep me by your side. I will show you what I am truly capable of.”

By this time I’ve stood up from my seat and clenched my fist. My gaze was fixated on his back.

“I will not disappoint you. I can assure you.”

He turned his head and said, “one week. Surprise me. Come with results and this spirit, and you shall be rewarded.”

I launched my own political maneuvering the first three days: flirting with the hot 32-years old staffer in the Socha party secretariat was the easy task. The hard task is to fake my interest in her stories and be passionate on bed. I had to imagine the Congressman just to get it over with. It was satisfactory on her part, I must say, for she casually handed me a copy of the confidential Socha roadmap containing the bills the Party will push for the next year and their sponsors. Not a document you would happily give to an opposition party.

I did a background check and compiled the key insights to their sponsors and point out their weak points – corruption scandals, adultery, frequented ion spots, past political experience, and insights on internal party politics – as well as the business sponsors backing the bill – their tax evasion scandals, bribery, regulatory violations. On top of this, I also gave an equally detailed document of scandals and potential reputational damaging rumors on Kim’s company, the pivotal party on the sanitary bill.

I stayed up for two full nights, surviving on take-away kimbabs and fishcakes. If not for the short meeting with Kim Junmyeon, I would not dare to launch such dedicated actions. If Junmyeon could forget, so could I, right? If this is my last lifetime in which I can remember who Seunghoon has always been during all these lives, I want to make it count. I want to atone for my mistakes.

After a week of terror, I booked a room in the hotel under my own account, printed a copy of the comprehensive document and sent a text to the Congressman:

                Usual place. # is the date where you will be appointed speaker.

I usually enjoy the view from this hotel, where the blinding night lights of Seoul compensate the shimmering night stars they devour. Back in my small hometown of Andong where light pollution is non-existent and fireflies aplenty, the neighborhood kids’ favorite activity has always been stargazing. We grew up identifying Orion’s belt and the Big Dipper – as easy as Seoulites identifying the lights of Hongdae and Myeongdong.

There were three abrupt knocks on the door – unlike my one-second interval knocks – and I found myself walking towards the door. I stopped midway to check my appearance on the mirror in the hallway: I dropped my light blue shirt and navy tie to a black suit with white shirt, boosting my confidence and showing my seriousness that I will surely need in the coming meeting.

“What do you have?” he said nonchalantly as he stormed inside the room exactly after I opened the door. He seems to have no time to spare for chit-chats.
I closed and locked the door for security reasons and took the files I’ve printed from my briefcase. I threw the thick document to the table and it beautifully slid and stopped right in front of him. I reckon a little bit of intimidation would appeal to him. My neck is on the line anyway so might as well going the more dangerous path.

“What is this?” he said as he reached for the document.

“Read it. Imagine playing a game of chess where you know with one-hundred per cent certainty what your opponent’s next moves are, which hand he’s going to move the pawn with, and what his stress points are. With that document, I’m giving you that game of chess – the chessboard, the opponent, and eventually, the victory.”

He changed his position to sitting upright, his legs not crossed anymore now, and his stiff shoulders more relaxed. “Wow. How can I be sure that this isn’t just a bedtime story you just wrote yesterday night? How can you prove this true?”

“Tomorrow. 7 PM talk show program in KBS. Kim Junmyeon will be interviewed for a featurette on good leadership. He will speak and send implicit messages in favor of the sanitation bill. He will showcase his company’s social activities in the rural regions and how their lives have been improved by the company. It will be full of positivity and praises for his company and buy people’s emotions towards the sanitation bill and consequently the bill will pass with ease – except if someone managed to leak their questionable tax returns before the show. In that scenario, the news will spread like wildfire and people won’t have sympathy on him. Potentially damaging Junmyeon’s credibility once and for all. Kang would want to disassociate himself with him, and Junmyeon would be very unhappy with that.”

He read the few last pages on Junmyeon’s company profile and looked at me with puzzled look, “Are you saying you’re pushing for a black campaign on Kang and his supporters?”

“I’m not saying anything about black campaign – I’m just saying that people need to know the facts. That’s all.”

“How can we ensure that this won’t backfire? Will this be effective?”

“In the last few pages there are some reporters that have been turned down and in some cases, extorted, by Kang’s camp. They’ll gladly pick this news. Scandal and controversy bring good publicity and good cash for media. Just ask your men to contact one that you are most comfortable with, and watch your plans materialize into Kang’s nightmare tomorrow. You have to see it to believe it, right?” I ended my pitch with a sip of whiskey I’ve poured into one of the glasses at the bar. The Congressman seemed to be bought by the idea, but he’s carefully weighing his risks as black campaigns very easily backfire.
The beauty of this plan is that Congressman Kang would see this whole scandal as force majeure and it would be hard for him to point fingers and trace it back at me – corruption and tax evasion aren’t new news, they’re just a time bomb waiting to explode. Finding the source of this issue would be as tedious as finding a needle in a haystack.

“I’ll think about it.”

“My private phone is 24/7 if you ever need anything.”

The Congressman turned his gaze on me for one last time, nodded lightly, and stormed out of the room. A light nod is as much of a well done I can ever expect from him. With him buying the idea, I needed to carefully observe how the issues develop from afar. As much as I respect Junmyeon – or CEO Kim, or whatever – all these times, the fact that he forgot about his whole lives bugged me so. It’s as if he’s not the person I’ve known my entire lives and it shattered my beliefs in how this whole thing works. I have to ensure that I aced this one in case this is my last.

The next day, the headline of Korea’s second most widely circulated newspaper featured the KoWater financial statements and odd tax calculations. The headline read: “Did KoWater’s official tax returns go down the drain?” and it was ingenious. Online media picked it up soon and so did TV channels. And by the time I was about to eat my croque-monsieur for lunch at the Assembly, everyone are talking about it.

“Hey, have you read the spread on KoWater’s tax evasion scandal?” Minkyung asked. “It’s bad, bad news for the Congressman. Bad press and bad timing.”
I just shrugged indifferently at her comment and proceeded to eat my sandwich, grateful that she would stand by me and said we had lunch together the day the issue snowballed, making a strong alibi in my favor. The broadcast that evening got cancelled, Congressman Kang went into private meetings where his special staffs aren’t even allowed to come, and his staffs and interns (cue: me) sat locked in his meeting room, waiting for orders at his disposal.

Let’s just say it all went downhill from there on. The Congressman kept a distance with KoWater for fear the bad press will affect him too. KoWater got heavily scrutinized for two weeks after the news first broke. Even when the KoWater scandal hasn’t subsided, the media once again picked up bribery scandal involving officials from the Socha party – giving more powerful jabs to Congressman Kang’s fight for Speakership. As if the combination of the two isn’t bad enough, the Maega party – not led by yours truly, Congressman Lee, as he needs to be distanced from controversies – has succeeded in pointing out clauses in the sanitation bill that will in effect make the citizens in urban area pay more for access to clean water. The people push for revisions to the draft bill and had turned to the opposition party to lead such revisions. And, boom, the revision is led by the voice of hope and youth, yours truly, Congressman Lee.
Although I hoped that the Congressman’s victory would relieve me – the “rewarding” nights after the the passing of the bill were, as it’s fittingly called, very rewarding – it didn’t make me so much at ease. There are too many uncertainties I’m facing and too many questions unanswered for me to immerse in this life fully and enjoy it to the last bits. The fear of forgetting is imminent and it’s haunting me in my every steps.

Tonight I decided I want to distance myself away from the dirty politics, the congressmen, and their prized intern/political pawn/lust fulfiller. Craving for tranquility for a calmer state of mind, I took the train to Andong and spent the night there.

Congressman Lee – or, it, Seunghoon – texted several times asking where I am. I haven’t replied to his texts, and I don’t plan to. It’s not in his nature to beg me for information because normally I would show up like his puppy on call at his disposal. He’s having a reception for his appointment as Speaker of the Assembly, but I guess he’s up for some late night heat.

Away from the two Congressmen, I reflected back at this life and the lives before it. Seunghoon – as a graphic designer, a congressman, a travel blogger, a banker, a prince, a whatever – has always played an important role in my life. Sometimes we didn’t end up together, sometimes he disappointed me and likewise I disappointed him. But whatever end game I have with him, he always plays a pivotal role in it.

If I choose to be with Seunghoon now, will I remember him in the next life? Will life turn out to be better if I chose to be with Seungyoon? Will I ever regret living my life the way I decided it to be?

In between these thoughts, my phone vibrated. It was the Congressman. I’ve let his calls through for three times already – the fact that he called for the fourth time should be applauded and respected.

“Hello? Where are you? Why didn’t you pick up my calls and return my messages?”

The Congressman sounded out of breath and his whispering voice raspy.

“Hi, sir. Sorry, I’m out of town, and my phone was away from me.”

“Out of town? But today I got sworn for Speakership. Why are you not here?”

“Of course, Sir, I know. I was at the Assembly and you looked befitting for the post you rightfully deserve. I thought I wanted to give you time to celebrate.”

“And what makes you think I don’t want to celebrate it with you?”

I was dumbfounded and it was apparent from the long pause I gave him, for he said again, “if not because of you, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Sir, I’m flattered-”

“Come back to Seoul. Room is your birthday.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t come there today.”

“Why? Where are you?”

“It’s a… personal business, sir. I will go to the room tomorrow night. I’m very sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

And for the first time in my life, I hung up the call. He would not be pleased, but judging by how much he craves for me now, it would be tolerable. Not wanting my time to be disturbed, I turned off my phone and put it in my bag.

Hearing his voice in this turbulent time shook my ground even more. My lives with him flashed before my eyes – the happy moments, the wedding vows, late night talks, my mistakes and his. Those were really good times. I want to atone for my mistakes and my sins I accumulated for the past lives. If this is our last, I want to make it count. And I want it to be perfect, spotless.

The next day, I took the train ride back to Seoul. I arrived just in time before the agreed meeting hour. He must have missed me so for I only knocked the door once when the door opens to him standing in the middle of the hallway.

“You’re early,” he said. There is a hint of relief in his voice – I’m flattered at these small hints, but the last thing I need from him now is explicit sign of longing and love.

“Ah, yes, I thought you wouldn’t be here already, sir.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said as he led me to the usual sofa. “I wanted you to be here yesterday for the celebration of Speaker appointment. It was all because of you. You’re supposed to be the star of the show.”

“Thank you, sir. That’s too much for the both of us know if not without your poise and charms, you wouldn’t get it anyway.”

In a series of proofs that the Congressman totally went head over heels for me, he poured me a glass of pinot noir and said for the cheer, “for you.”

“For Speaker Lee.”

We drank some more afterwards and laughed at his stories. This is a side of the Congressman I don’t see often – him being carefree and true to himself. He shared how yesterday’s reception was such a snoozefest and full of - politicians who have come up to him to ask for fund allocations. This one politician even offered him an to get him through the lonely nights. He laughed at how these people have no clue that he’s been screwing with me.

“I mean, these people don’t notice how there is a y, inviting and totally able intern on the Assembly every day? They must be blind!”

The pinot noir (almost empty by now) must have gotten on him for he started to slur his words and say things he never said to me before.

“Yesterday as people congratulate me and praise my leadership skills, all I had on my mind was you and you.”

“You must have wanted to channel all the energy, didn’t you, sir?”

“No, I just felt like being with you. To say thanks.”

I felt uncomfortable and giddy for I am not in the mood for loving. I stood up and went to the window.

“I genuinely want to share the excitement with you. I’ve noticed you make a very good conversing partner. Weird, isn’t it?”

I just gave an unclear and faint mumble to his question and tried my best to avoid this topic. I moved to the bar and pretended to make a new kind of cocktail, busying myself with whatever is necessary to not reply to his words.

I was doomed when he said, “Song Mino, come. Sit next to me.”

I wasn’t able to say no so I sat next to him. His right hand holding the half empty glass of pinot noir, his left arm stretched to the back of the sofa. He turned to me once I reached the sofa and said to me with a depth of seriousness to his voice,

“I want you to know, and this is not because of the wine, that I’m thankful to have you around for the past eight months. I want you to not think of yourself as just a political pawn. You mean a lot more to me than just my rival’s intern and agent of sabotage. I genuinely treasure your presence. Thank you.”

He closed in to my direction. I anticipated for a kiss and so I parted my lips – but he didn’t go for my lips and kissed me on the cheek instead.

“Please stay. Even when you’re not in the Assembly anymore,” and a kiss on the other cheek.

“I need you,” and finally, a kiss on the lips.

When his lips touched mine, I felt a jolt down my spine, just like how he first kissed me eight months ago. Instead of happiness, however, I felt a wave of insecurity and vulnerability washed upon me. The questions came again blurring my mind, harder than how it hit me last. I remembered how much I’ve disappointed him before – when I left him for a lucrative job, when I disregarded his concerns, when I let my ego consumed him whole.

I stood up in sudden motions and breaking his soft kisses.

“I’m sorry, Seunghoon, I can’t do this.”

When I left him, he looked puzzled and confused. I dashed towards the door and took the emergency stairs to the lobby and went outside the hotel.

I don’t think I can have a perfect, spotless life with him – more accurately, I’m afraid of not having a perfect, spotless life with him. I think there was too much room for mistakes, something I couldn’t afford this time. I don’t think I will be able to love him as much as I loved him in Kyoto – what if I disappoint him? What if he left me? What if his words were just empty seductions and he needed only my service for his path to the throne?

I wandered aimlessly on the streets of Seoul, choosing the darker road at every intersection and not knowing where I’ll end up in. I wonder how Seunghoon feels right now. I guess he would be very angry at me for disrespecting his confession (was it even a confession?) and leaving him when he has opened up to me.

I weighed my available options and none of them seem lucrative and secure enough for me to venture in. Trying to forget all this for a while, I resorted to my lifelong, most reliable friend: food. I entered Gwangjang Market in hope for a good Korean pancake or kimbab or rice cakes. There were lines and lines of street food vendors to choose from – yet my eyes fall on one specific vendor that looked way out of place to be there: a takoyaki booth.

I sat down in one of the empty chairs inside the takoyaki booth and asked for a portion of an octopus takoyaki. Its smell brings too much memory. Although the Gwangjang Market at night is loud with people chatting with each other and vendors trying to sell their foods to the hungry goers, I found myself traveling back to our Kyoto days, when everything seemed a to be a bit happier. I couldn’t believe how we were able to live in such low budget and shabby apartment – compared to the luxurious boutique hotel and the many zeros in our bank account, the Kyoto days seemed almost unbelievable.

Five minutes later, the cook served my octopus takoyaki. It was decent – but of course, not comparable to the one we had in Japan. Those days, we were able to love each other fully, way beyond our imperfections. We seemed to not be afraid of whatever we had in front of us.

Come to think of it – that’s how we’ve always survived in every lifetime. We cherished and appreciated them, living it to the fullest. At that time, I wasn’t bothered by the fact that I don’t know how my lives would be like next. I focused on living. I focused on loving Seunghoon. I cherished the days I was able to spend with him. After all, aren't those days when we're both imperfect and our relationships rocky turned out to be memorable and prized?

So, why not now?

The only difference between now and then is the fact that I didn’t purposefully shut Seunghoon out in fear of a disappointing life or failure. Life can unravel in any direction – opting to shut myself out of Seunghoon deters them from unraveling and fends off opportunities for going my direction. I realized how silly I’ve been in being afraid over things I have no control over – I don’t know whether I will still remember, alas, I don’t even know whether I will still be alive tomorrow – so might as well live today like there is no tomorrow: without regret.

With realizations clear in my mind now, I finished the last bites of my takoyaki. I gave my money to the cook and with that, I left my empty takoyaki box, just like Kyoto, and went away – back to Seunghoon, back to home.
 

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