Act I

Moon Byulyi was a professional in everything she did. She was a star Valet: beautiful, gracious, sweet, kind, a wonderful dancer, and a strict observer of the proprietary boundaries her job demands. Women loved her, and she loved them. Women were the queens of her world, and treating them well was second nature. It was a perfect, uncomplicated job.

Or so it was supposed to be.

When her best friends, Hyejin and Wheein, began the company two years ago, she had fallen head over heels in love with the idea of a service dedicated to giving women the simple, chaste, and caring comfort that all women deserve. No strings attached. “It’s time to give the power back to the women,” Hyejin had explained. It was a sunny day, Byulyi remembered, and she was freshly out of university  with little ambition to guide her through the trials of adulthood. Hyejin sat across from her, under the shade of an outdoor umbrella on a patio. She remembered the exact red of Hyejin’s blouse, and the pillowy foam of her caramel macchiato the way people do when they experience a life-changing moment.

“Sometimes a girl gets out of a relationship,” Hyejin had gone on, “and all she wants is a bit of comfort. Or maybe a girl gets invited to a wedding, and she doesn’t want to brave the nauseating comments of judgemental relatives without a plus one. We’ve all been there. That’s what I want to provide. Comfort. Following?”

Byulyi nodded swiftly.

“So it’s kind of like a…partner for hire service. But nothing romantic, and definitely not ual. It’s the key parts of the perfect relationship without the attachment of a relationship itself. I'm going to call them Valets. Like a personal assistant, but more intimate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Four hours max. That’s how long our Valets can get rented out for. More than that and the fantasy starts to break, and we don’t want that. They’re there to treat our clients like queens because god knows every girl goddamn deserves it, and that’s it. They treat our clients like queens, then a couple of hours later? Poof! The magic wears off, and it's all just a beautiful memory. Something to rub out the bad stuff, y'know?”

“That's great, Hyejin, but what does it have to do with me?”

She could still remember the way Hyejin’s eyes lit up as she leaned forward with a mischievous smirk, one hand folded neatly under her chin. “Because, Byulyi-unnie, I want you. You are the perfect Valet, and I know you won’t turn me down.”  

And she was right. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

This job was her dream come true. While she had always somehow managed to entice women with her well-faked confidence and good looks, relationships seldom lasted long once her partners discovered the truth about her shy, awkward personality. Being a Valet gave her the opportunity to perfect her mask, but it was a double-edged sword when women realized what her job entailed, and she was often left to wonder whether it would be more preferable to sell her body over her love.  

Such a service invited a fair share of women who could not shake the fantasy, and while indulgence was more than a little enticing, she knew it could never end well once the illusion was truly broken. And so, after months of fumbling awkwardness, testing boundaries, and negotiating her own emotions, Byulyi eventually learned to bow out. Clean and graceful.

Byulyi didn’t mind anymore. Though her two best friends remained unconvinced, she was perfectly happy with her bachelor lifestyle. She had a purpose now, and the ability and resources to make women happy in a way that she never could in her real life. Being a Valet was her real life, and she didn’t need more than that.

—

On this particular cloudy Friday, she had strolled into the office with smile on her face, oblivious as can be about what the day was going to entail.

Wheein was spinning in her chair at the front desk with a clipboard, prettily framed inside the manmade waterfall behind her. The lobby was modest, but cleanly decorated. Aside from the water running over a grey stone wall behind Wheein, there were only two lime green chairs and an end table, where a miniature bust of Adonis made its home. Past the waterfall was Hyejin’s office, prep rooms for the employees, a waiting room, and kitchenette. Beyond that, through the glass doors, was a garden where Wheein filled her time in between her busy schedule.

“Good morning, unnie,” she greeted with a dimpled smile. “You look gross today. What’s going on?”

Byulyi smiled, and rested her elbow on the white marble counter. “Don’t know. Just feels like a good day.”

Wheein scoffed, and handed her the clipboard. “Got a date coming up or something?”

Byulyi looked over her bookings for the day, and signed it. “Two bookings today? Nice. And no,” she said, twirling the pen a few times before handing everything back to Wheein. “Haven’t really felt like meeting people lately. Thinking I’ll just mooch off you two forever and grow old with Daebakkie. Not a bad plan, don’t you think?”

Wheein made a face. “I don’t wanna be there when even your dog finds you too annoying. I can just imagine you crying into his fur when you’re all old and wrinkly because he didn’t greet you at the door or something.”

“Aish, so rude to your elders, Wheeinie.”

Wheein ignored her. “Hyejinie got you a new suit,” she said instead, gesturing vaguely to the space behind her. “It’s in your prep room. She figured our star Valet ought to stand out a little more.”

“Then she can start charging more, eh?”

Wheein chuckled. “Well we have our honeymoon to think about.”

Byulyi glanced at the glittering ring on her friend’s finger in recollection of their recent engagement. “Think I can hire a Valet to go to your wedding with me?”

“Mm, I can reserve Seulgi for you,” Wheein said with a grin. “We can have our top Valets unite.”

Byulyi groaned loudly. “Not that kid.”

“I thought you liked her clumsy, awkward ways around women.”

“Gross,” Byulyi made a face, “she’s like my sister.”

Just then, Hyejin stepped out into the lobby from the alcove behind the waterfall. She automatically took her place beside Wheein, her hand against the curve of her back as she leaned in for a quick kiss. “What are you doing out here, Hyejinie?” Wheein asked. “Are you bored? Do you need more paperwork to keep you company?”

Hyejin scoffed. “I’d rather have you in there keeping me company,” she replied with a wiggle of her brows. Wheein slapped her playfully, but did not seem to be put off by the idea in the very least. “I heard Byulyi-unnie crying, so I came to watch.”

“Oh, she was just saying how much she would love to hire Seulgi to be her boyfriend for our wedding.”

“Mmm, what a beautiful couple,” Hyejin chuckled. “You think Seulgi would wear the pants in the relationship?”

Wheein eyed Byulyi up and down. “Oh, for sure.”  

Byulyi stepped back from the counter, head thrown back in a dramatic sigh. “I hate both of you. So much.”

“Oh, honey, let me fix your collar,” Wheein said, ignoring her employee to straighten her fiancée’s shirt.

“You two are so gross,” Byulyi added. “Seriously. Just stop.”

Hyejin smirked. “Why don’t you go try on your new suit? You’ve got an appointment in an hour, so you better be ready.”

Byulyi rolled her eyes and began walking off. “You two are jerks, and I don’t know why I love you. But it’s okay because I’m still having a great day,” she yelled to the couple behind her. “Also. I’m taking the coupe.”

Fortunately for her, Hyejin was too busy losing herself in Wheein’s eyes to notice the twirling keyring she’d taken from the front desk earlier around her finger.

Though the job wasn’t perfect, there were luxurious benefits to being a Valet. Aside from her personal closet of tailored suits, she was entitled to fine wine and the occasional fast car. The exorbitant prices meant only the highest quality of services. She’d gotten used to seeing her clients in skyscraping suites while they cried on her shoulder, then going home to her modest two-bedroom and collapsing onto her modestly scruffy loveseat.

And now, as she ran a hand over the soft, white merino wool of her new suit, she certainly did not mind these luxurious benefits that Hyejin and Wheein had given her. She ed the blazer to admire the light blue-silver silk vest, shirt, and tie underneath. A brand new pair of shining, white leather shoes sat in its box awaiting her attention beside the rest of her ensemble. Despite Hyejin’s numerous flaws, nobody knew how to spoil a girl better.

Dressed-up, made-up, and ready for her day, she slid into Hyejin’s coupe with a satisfied grin on her face. She pressed the ignition and the engine roared like a tiger then dimmed to a soft purr. Her grin broadened, then disappeared altogether when her phone in the passenger seat lit up with an incoming call. Her fingers reluctantly released the steering wheel, swallowing nervously as Hyejin’s name seemed to flash white anger at her against the black backdrop.

“What?” She said, coolly as she could.

Her heart soared at the sound of Wheein’s voice on the other end, calm, still, and professional as ever. “Unnie, are you taking the Aston Martin?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, take care of it. Seulgi needs it tomorrow to pick up a client.”

“Okay.”

Wheein sighed. “And next time, unnie, if you wanted to take a car, just ask. Or, you know, sign it out like everyone else instead of pretending you’re so sneaky. We spoil you enough as it is.”

Byulyi laughed, knowing full well true it was. “I love you guys,” she cooed.

“Make up your mind,” Wheein said in mock exasperation. Byulyi could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Have fun today, unnie. And please, please remember to return the car tonight.”

—

Her first client was business as usual in middle-class neighbourhood. She had pulled up to a glittering new apartment, earning puzzled looks on the street when she stepped out of her car and into the building, holding a slim bottle of wine. A girl in the elevator sneaked glances all the way up to the 27th floor where her client lived, and she could not resist winking at her through the reflection of the elevator doors. As the doors closed behind her, she caught a glimpse of the girl’s bright red face and smiled.

She met her client at the door, recited her introduction, and was invited inside. It was her client’s day off, and she didn’t want to be alone, so she requested for company. It was, in truth, not the first time that Byulyi had been requested by Miss Irene Bae since her four-year relationship ended six months ago, and each time the explanation was the same, but she respected the boundaries of this service so far and Byulyi did not mind her company in the least.

After Byulyi prepared a late lunch, they conversed comfortably at the dining table. “Has she called again?” Byulyi asked as she poured a glass of wine and extended the glass to her client.

Irene smiled, small and shy. “No. She’s gone for good. It’s strange. Waking up and realizing she’s halfway around the world. It scares me to think this is going to be a trend, like they're all going to leave one day. I know it's irrational, but...has change always been so scary?”

“Come here,” Byulyi said, standing up and rounding the table. She pulled her up gently, opened her arms, and engulfed Irene in a big hug. Then, stepping behind her, she pressed both thumbs to the knots of muscle below Irene’s neck. “You’ve been working so hard,” she said, easing out the tension in her shoulders. “You are a beautiful, kind, intelligent, hard-working woman, and you need someone who will appreciate all of that. Change is scary, but I know how strong you are. And sometimes, it might not be a bad thing.”

Irene sighed and the stem of her empty wine glass, her expression as stoic as always. Byulyi immediately retrieved the bottle to fill the void, and wished she knew the words to fill Irene’s void too. She resumed the massage in silence. Once she felt her body begin to relax beneath her fingers, she gave her a brief hug around her back and asked if she’d like a foot massage as well.

Irene smiled and shook her head. “No, you’ve done more than enough.”

But still, she could tell that Irene was unhappy, so she pulled her trump card: “Maybe you’d like to go for a ride instead?”

At that, she finally lit up.

They drove to the outskirts of the city where Hyejin recently partnered with a country club to give Valets a place to relax with their clients—a modest 100 acres of land divided into an 18-hole golf course. The clubhouse sat on the edge of the 4th hole, boasting broad wooden beams and glass walls that overlooked the greenest hills and the bluest pond. In the evening, the sun would settle between the hills and radiate the forest beyond. No client could resist the secluded beauty of such a setting.

Not even one as stoic as the doll-like Irene.

The wind in their hair blew back their worries and by the time they neared the club, Irene looked visibly ruddier with joy, though she did nothing more to show it. They pulled into the parking lot, where another of Hyejin’s cars was already parked alongside a handful of others. “Looks like another Valet is here,” Byulyi said with a smile. “Perhaps you’d like to meet them for a change of pace?”

Irene gazed into the distance. “Maybe... It’s beautiful out here today.”

“Oh yes.” Byulyi offered the crook of her arm, and led them through the lobby and out into a canopied deck, overlooking the endless greens.

“I don’t particularly care for golf myself, but I can never get enough of the view,” she said, pulling out a chair for Irene. Irene nodded. “I will be right back with some drinks. Soak up the sun, lay back, close your eyes, and just relax.”  

By the time she returned with two glasses of wine, someone else had taken her seat. Stranger still was the unfamiliar sound of Irene’s open laughter. Baffled, Byulyi walked closer and saw the familiar black suit.  

Why was she not surprised?

“Byulyi-unnie!” the other Valet cried, scrambling so quickly to stand up from her seat that her chair fell backwards. She picked it up and ducked her head in a series of frantic bows.

Byulyi chuckled. “Relax, Seulgi. You looked like you were having fun.”

“O-oh yes, Miss Bae is…uhm…she has a wonderful sense of humour,” the young Valet said with a fierce blush across her cheeks. Byulyi raised a brow, and cast a glance at her client, who met her gaze steadily, the strange, easy smile still hanging from her lips.

Kang Seulgi was a strange one.

It seemed like only yesterday that she was tasked to train the young Valet, so painfully nervous at first that she could barely pour wine without shaking her hands. And now here she was, still awkward, still clumsy, still so unconsciously endearing that it was almost a superpower.

“Seulgi, why are you here by yourself? Do you have a client too?” Irene asked. Seulgi looked at Byulyi, who stared back expectantly.

“Um, no. I came because our bosses asked me to take a look at the club. I think they’re probably considering it for their wedding,” Seulgi explained. Byulyi nodded along, still pondering the ease at which Seulgi befriended her client.

“But you’re still wearing a suit,” Irene said, gesturing to the deep coal-black of Seulgi’s ensemble.

Seulgi puffed out her chest a little with a proud grin. “Oh yes! We always have to look sharp when we represent the company.”

Irene muffled a laugh behind her hand. “That’s cute."

Aside from bringing out drinks and sparse contributions to the conversation, Byulyi had taken a backseat to the whole experience, watching in wonder as Seulgi and Irene seemed to forget her presence almost entirely.

In all of her two years as a Valet, Byulyi had never watched another fully-fledged Valet in action. She had accepted the overwhelmingly positive feedback from her clients, wearing them like medals on her lapel, and it was a strange feeling to be so completely overshadowed by another. Especially one as inexperienced as Seulgi.

Her experience with Irene had been a series of practiced formalities adapted to suit Irene’s personality—multiple sessions culminating into a fulfilling, yet professional, bond. But Seulgi seemed to open her up effortlessly, ing her into a whole new world without complaint. And though Byulyi was no doubt impressed, there was something else in Seulgi’s eyes as she smiled brightly at their client. Something definitely trying to push past the boundaries of professionalism.

Later, when she dropped Byulyi off at the curb of her next destination, Byulyi glanced over at Irene in the passenger seat before leaning over Seulgi’s window.

“Remember, Seul,” she said, low in the  young Valet’s ear, “Irene is a client. You are a Valet. You must treat her like a queen, but she is not your queen, alright?” She clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t forget.”

Seulgi nodded quickly, a nervous knot in . Byulyi flashed Irene a brilliant smile, and, satisfied with the slight nod in reply, waved goodbye.

—

She gazed up at the upper-crust high rise of her next client, then nodded to the concierge through the glass doors in a moment of mutual appreciation for the uniform. Like she had done so many times before, she recited her introduction into the intercom, and after a long pause, was buzzed in by muted beep.

As she strode into the lobby, she suddenly found herself missing Daebakkie and the modest comforts of her modest life—far, far away from her continuing façade. But she practiced her most charming smile in the reflection of the elevator walls and rehearsed her lines several times over as she slowly made her way up to the very top floor. And, thankfully, the doubt disappeared.

She recalled her client’s profile with the pretty picture attached. She was an attractive woman, like so many others, and a successful lawyer to boot. Byulyi had seen her share of women like her, whose suit collections, rivalling her own, burned with the kind of power she could only hope to imitate in her own line of work. She pictured the woman, stern and cold, too used to the high tension of testosterone-drunk competition to be comfortable having someone take care of her. And it always gave her extra joy to be able to melt those hard exteriors, even if it was just for an evening. Every woman deserved to be loved, especially those brave enough to fight the hardest battles.

By the time she stood at the ornate door at the end of the long, carpeted hallway, she was already sporting her signature smile with just the right amount of wrinkle in her nose to start a conversation.

She raised a fist to knock at the dark wood, but the door unexpectedly swung open, and a woman dashed out, stopping only inches from her own frame.

“Oh!” The woman looked up to meet her bewildered eyes. Though her chestnut hair now flowed in pink waves, this woman had to be the attractive lawyer with the cold eyes and set lips, though her soft expression and pink cheeks seemed to tell a different story. Her tight fitting, low-cut black dress nearly took Byulyi’s breath away, but she quickly steadied herself and readjusted her crooked smile. She’s a client, she chided herself silently, and you’re a professional above all. She had learned early on not to be affected by the inevitable beauty of her many clients, and just like that, the momentary infatuation passed.

“Who are you?” the woman asked.  

Byulyi stepped back with a bow. “My name is Byulyi,” she said, placing a palm on her heart, “and I am your Valet for the evening. It is very nice to meet you, Miss Kim.”

Her client furrowed her brows. “That can’t be right. I did not ask for a woman.”

Byulyi’s eyes widened slightly. Wheein’s legendary organization skills had never mixed up a client before, especially not those as valuable as Kim Yongsun. She bowed deeply and apologized. “We can send your preferred Valet as soon as we can,” she added.

Yongsun shook her head, her expression wrought with undeniable exasperation as she tried to stay calm. “No, we are late enough as it is. We will have to figure it out on our way to the restaurant.”

The next thing she knew, Byulyi was in the passenger seat of a brand-new, ruby-red Tesla, clawing at anything she could for dear life as Yongsun weaved through traffic like it was the race of the century. At the same time, she spoke animatedly, with both hands deserting the safety and comfort of the wheel once in awhile for emphasis. Byulyi kept a tight smile on her face, but deep down found herself face-to-face with a barrage of existential questions.

“Miss Kim, I think you should slow—”

“Oh, please, you don’t have to be that formal, do you?” Much to Byulyi’s horror, she released her grip on the wheel to point a finger and chide, “I bet I’m older than you, Miss Byulyi. Why don’t you call me unnie?”

“I’m sorry, I—”

The car swerved, nearly diving into oncoming traffic—Byulyi squeaked, and clung onto the door for dear life.

“Call me Yongsun-unnie,” she said, pouting.

“I—”

“Byul-ah,” she whined as if they were old friends, then continued, mimicking Byulyi’s voice in cute, high-pitched squeaks, “‘Yongsun-unnie, you’re so pretty. Yongsun-unnie, you’re the best.’ Try it, try it!”

The sudden brake at a red light sent Byulyi forward, and pushing against her seatbelt—currently her saviour and best friend—with a grunt. She could feel Yongsun leaning into her space expectantly as they waited for the light to change. Once her soul returned to her body, she cleared .

“Yongsun-unnie,” she said, her pale lips curving.

“Good.”

If Yongsun noticed the cold sweat forming on Byulyi’s forehead throughout the ride, she didn’t show it. The green light blinked—Byulyi sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening. “Ah, you should know that my private life has always been of great interest to my family,” Yongsun went on calmly. “They’ve been nagging me for years to get married no matter how many times I tell them that I’d prefer not to, especially not to the kind of boys my parents want me to marry. I’ve always put my career first, and this isn’t going to change just because I’ve reached an arbitrary range of marriageable age. It’s ridiculous.”

Byulyi nodded stiffly, then yelped when they went around a passing truck, the mirror narrowly missing the truck’s side by a few short centimeters.

“Now that my sister is getting married, they’re putting even more pressure on me. The truth is,” she paused to give Byulyi a meaningful look, “there is no man on Earth who can convince me that marriage is worth it.”

Byulyi forgot her mortal crisis long enough to digest those words, wondering if she meant what she thought she meant. She tested the waters. “There are all kinds of meaningful companionship in the world. Romance is not the only experience that can fill the kind of voids our souls sometimes desire.”

“Oh, but I believe in romance.” Another meaningful look. Byulyi could not tear her eyes away from the red lipstick in the low light. “I believe in romance very much. Don’t you?”

Byulyi chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Good. Perhaps this has worked out for the best. It’s only Yonghee today. Let’s see how she feels about me standing beside another woman. I have to face the music eventually. Yes… I think we can have some fun with this,” Yongsun said. “I want you to be attentive, but not too much, alright? I will introduce you as my friend, but I want you to pretend you care for me in a deep, yet painfully unspoken way.”

“Perhaps…you’ve misunderstood what we are trained to do as Valets.”

“Hyejinie assured me that you Valets will go above and beyond to make their clients happy,” she smirked. “Isn’t that right?”

She has never heard anyone so casually refer to the indomitable woman such a cute nickname, aside from her fiancée. But before she could comment, they’d pulled into the cul-de-sac of a golden hotel. A man in a double-ed uniform opened her door and offered a white gloved hand. Refusing to lose to the sparse mustache and unkempt hair, she brushed his hand aside and hurried around the front of the car to extend the service to Yongsun with far more grace.

“You are good,” Yongsun smiled, taking the offered elbow. She handed the uniformed man her keys and allowed Byulyi to lead her through the lobby and into the dimly-lit restaurant.

“You deserve the very best,” Byulyi said, flashing her signature grin.

“Mm, if those are the kind of lines I’ll be listening to all night,” Yongsun said with a chuckle, “maybe I should’ve traded you in after all.”

“It would be worth it if it can make you smile. Your smile really is beautiful.”

“Wow. How many of these cheesy lines do you have in your hard drive?” Yongsun asked, playfully tapping Byulyi’s skull with a knuckle. “Try not to use too many when we meet my sister. It’s cute, but it’ll be too suspicious.”

And for the first time in her career, Byulyi’s confident mask slipped and she blushed. Fortunately, Yongsun had turned her attention to the maître d’, chatting to the silver-haired man as if they were old friends. Byulyi watched her client in profile as she talked, her heart hammering as she wondered how many layers this woman planned to tear down. Yongsun glanced up into her eyes, her red lips still forming words she couldn’t hear. Byulyi couldn’t breathe.

She scrambled to rebuild her walls, but the bricks slipped through her fingers each time. How was she supposed to be a professional when a look alone was like a reckless wrecking ball against her wooden shields?

This was going to be a long night.