It’s strange. I’ve always felt myself to be different.

While everyone else is fretting over crushes and first loves, I was enjoying my solitude drawing the flowers Eomma always displays around the house.

When my classmates began navigating the world of dates, first kisses and skinship, I was listening to love songs and not feeling a thing.

I don’t suppose I’m a late bloomer? (That florist pun)

The morning had been like every other morning, except when Soojung got into a fuss, which was rare.

“Oh my god!” she squealed, practically kicking down the door to the backroom, “I need your help, Sun Young!”

Said person was sitting atop a wooden stool, t thorns off the newest batch of red roses. She looked up, blinking at her friend’s uncharacteristic anxiety. “Huh?”

“You have to go out,” Soojung said breathlessly, pointing in the general direction of the main store, “Water the hyacinths…or display the new flower pots…anything…hurry!”

“But the roses-“

Soojung grabbed onto her hand and pulled her from her stool to her feet. “Just go outside, okay?”

Sun Young stared, bewildered. “Is something wrong?” she asked, as Soojung gave her a push outside.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Sure, Soojung.”

“Just do as I say, alright? I’ll do the roses, you help my sister!” she whispered, slamming the door and leaving her even more confused.

What is going on?

Help Sooyeon?

Sun Young peered from the foliage of the shop. There seemed to be nothing amiss; there were a few people looking through the flowers, baskets in hand to put their chosen ones. There was a couple looking through the floriography book, and an elderly woman looking through some ceramic watering cans that had been delivered just yesterday. Nothing looked out of place.

Is she playing her tricks on me again?

Maybe Sooyeon told her to do something icky like put the earthworms in the soil again.

She frowned, about to go back to the back room and tell her coworker off, when she heard Sooyeon’s voice.

“…you know how Soojung is, once she’s made up her mind, she won’t ever go back on it.”

“I know that, noona,” a soft male voice spoke, making her pause, “But I swear, if she can actually let me talk to her-“

Sun Young’s eyes widened, and she pushed aside some orchids, spotting the back profile of a suited man; he was leaning against the wooden desk, where Sooyeon was perched behind, her hands supporting her chin as she looked back at him like a pouting child.

“Don’t make me say it twice, Mr. Zhang, I don’t like to repeat myself. It’s horribly tedious and tiring, you know that, right?”

She sounded mildly irritated by now, as evident by her usage of formalities.

A sigh could be heard as the man shifted on his heels, and Sun Young spotted him place a red rose in front of Sooyeon as he sighed again.

“Could you at least pass this to her?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

He gave a hollow chuckle. “I suppose not.”

He stepped back from the desk, but he didn’t leave.

Sooyeon’s expression softened. “I’m really sorry,” she said, offering him a sympathetic smile as she patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll just have to move on, Yixing.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and as he turned, Sun Young caught a glimpse of a dejected expression on his face before he walked out of the flower shop.

Is he one of Soojung’s admirers?

Hmm. I wonder what happened.

She was about to get a good look at the young man when her foot accidentally kicked the little garden gnomes on the ground.

She froze.

“I see you, my little orchid,” Sooyeon sang, “Come. Emerge from your little hiding place.”

Caught red-handed.

Sun Young smiled sheepishly from the orchids, stuffing her hands in her apron pockets as she walked towards the desk. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear.”

“You and everyone in this store,” Sooyeon said with a little smile, as one of the customers coughed behind her hand.

Sun Young spotted the red rose on the counter. There was a little scroll, wrapped around the stem, with a black ribbon tying the little bundle up with a bow.

“Is that for Soojung?” she asked, lifting the rose and inhaling the scent.

Her manager sighed. “Yes, and hopefully the last one.”

“Who was that? The gentleman just now?”

“Just a scorned ex-lover,” came the soft reply.

Sun Young looked up. “What do you mean?” she asked, when Soojung appeared, her face stony as she came forward to take the rose.

“Is he gone?” she asked cautiously, casting furtive glances around the shop.

Sooyeon didn’t look at her sister. “Well, do you see him around?” she asked, in an almost deadly, icy tone that even Sun Young felt nervous. “If you weren’t my sister, Soojung, I’d have pointed him in your direction straightaway. The poor man is still holding onto the hope, and you still haven’t given him a chance to be free.”

Soojung clutched the rose, not looking at either one. “It’s not my fault,” she muttered back, “He won’t let go.”

She turned and walked back to the backroom with her head hung low, and Sun Young was left to glance at her manager, looking as lost as ever.

Sooyeon met her gaze like a weathered soothsayer, nodding to herself. “This is why people say love is a ruthless game. You either end up with a happy ending or a sad one, or worse, you break someone else’s heart,” she mused, “Don’t you go playing with hearts, too, Sun Young.”

Too?

She shook her head vigorously. “You know I won’t.”

“Good girl,” the latter replied with a light-hearted smile, “Now, I was reading the newspapers this morning, and look what I found!”

She held up the newspapers, folded to a particular page.

Open Call for Reality Show Participants!

Are you keen for a sense of adventure and fun?

Or maybe you’re looking for true love?

Perhaps you’re in need of an exciting change in your life and be on TV?

We’re looking for twenty single young ladies from the ages of 20-25 to be part of our newest reality show, where you will solve missions, compete with other participants and win the heart of a mystery young man! Participants will be chosen by merit and will not be discriminated due to any physical disability.

One thing is for sure, your life will never be the same again.

“’Mystery young man?” Sun Young wondered aloud.

“I’m sure it’s like The Bachelor, you know, where a group of pretty girls try to capture a rich man’s heart,” Sooyeon said.

“Oh.”

“Have you watched it before? You look a little confused.”

“Can’t say I have.”

Sooyeon leaned closer. “They all have ten pounds on makeup on, but as they say, personality trumps all,” she said sardonically, before lowering her voice to a gasp, “They even have swimsuit episodes, if you know what I mean.”

“Trash, all of it,” the elderly woman who had been choosing the watering cans interrupted, placing a basket of carnations, a pink watering can, and a garden gnome onto the countertop. “Young women should not be baring their bodies to seduce men.”

“I see you’ve been watching, Mrs Hwang, as evident by you jumping in seamlessly into our little topic.”

“Ahem. Just because I’ve watched the show doesn’t mean I like watching it.”

“I’m sure, because why else would you watch it, right?” came the sweet reply.

Mrs Hwang huffed. “Are you going to ask me to pay or not?”

Sooyeon keyed in the items on the cash register, hiding a smug smile. “Of course I am. I can’t be bankrupt because I was teasing my neighbour.”

“Ahem.”

Sun Young laughed as she reached for some brown paper, wrapping the carnations and tying the bundle with a red string.

Sooyeon noted the flowers as she pressed some keys on the cash register. “Is your grandson going to visit, Mrs Hwang?”

Pink carnations symbolize a mother’s love.

Mrs Hwang runs the barbecue shop a few stores down. She rarely buys flowers, but when she does, she buys pink carnations, for when her grandson comes to visit, because they are his favorite flowers. Rumor has it he is a martial arts expert but no one knows for sure; he’s always too shy to say a word.

The elderly woman nodded. “He’s coming in the afternoon,” she said, taking the items under her arm, “You should drop by, Sun Young, I’m sure he’ll enjoy your company!”

She blushed. “I’m going to see my mother, Mrs Hwang, but thank you all the same.”

“Excuses, girlie,” the lady interjected, shuffling out of the flower shop, “Just admit you’re deathly afraid of men and be done with it. I’ll be off now.”

Sooyeon gave a little laugh. “Her tongue really is as sharp as all the other ahjummas keep telling me.” She glanced at Sun Young, who coughed into her hand awkwardly. “Are you, though?”

The girl in question glanced up. “Am I what?”

“Afraid. Of men.”

“Of course not! I’m friends with many guys.”

“Yes, but have you ever been romantically involved with one?”

There was silence.

Sun Young swallowed. “No.”

“See-“

“Not yet, I mean!” she added, “I just have…commitments. School, work, Eomma…I’m too busy to get a boyfriend.”

Sooyeon slowly slid the newspaper article to her. “Pish-posh. Maybe you could try your hand at something new,” she suggested, reading out from the advert. “Your life will never be the same again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop it, Miss Jung. I’ll never be part of something so tacky as a dating reality show.”

Her manager slid the newspaper towards her. “Take it, for when you change your mind.”

Sun Young didn’t want to seem like a spoilsport, so she took it.

She didn’t want to correct Sooyeon.

‘If’ I change my mind. Not ‘when’ I change my mind.

I will never take part.

Park Chanyeol sat behind the mahogany desk of his penthouse, his face serious, his expression disturbed, and his heart distraught.

A stack of files sat on his right, all his paperwork completed for the day.

On his left were a stack of novels he had tried to drown himself in and failed.

In the middle of the table, right in front of him, was today’s newspaper article, opened to the page his mother had showed him earlier, when she had arrived with the board of investors. That was the one that had brought him much distress.

He stared at it, and if his eyes were lasers, the article would have burned up on the spot.

His mother had dropped by the hotel earlier, on the pretext of seeing how far along the Royal Pavilion was doing in terms of operations, and had sought him out, almost brandishing today’s newspaper in his face.

She had been excitable, showing the advert to him as she walked by his side, her arm hooked around his.

It has begun, Channie dear! Phase One: we shall hold auditions for your missing lady. Look at this; it should get enough attention, should it not? I paid for half a page, so it’s not too flashy.  

He had been perplexed, not expecting her to completely disregard how much effort he had put into the décor of the dining hall, which he had modelled after the Versailles in France.

What is this supposed to be, Mother?

Shh. It’s a secret.

Chanyeol shut his eyes, as if he could make the advert disappear. By now, probably the whole country had seen the open call for participants, and even though it didn’t have his name plastered on it, it might have.

“’Mystery young man’?” he scoffed, “More like some prize chicken, thrown to a pack of hungry wolves.”

He stood up, taking the novels into his arms as he turned, where his ornate bookshelves stood, and he tried to cast away all thoughts of disgust and embarrassment as he began putting away the stack of books one by one.

“I-“ he said, punctuating every word with slamming each book in their place,