Part IV

“That was dramatic, wasn’t it?” Yongsun yelled over the whistling wind as they drove along the narrow country road.

“I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t overstep,” Byulyi yelled back.

Yongsun rolled the windows up, and gestured for Byulyi to do the same. It was a still and starry night, and the exhilaration of her escape had her blood rushing, but as she turned now to watch Byulyi drive in profile, she let the silence overtake them.

“You were really cool,” she said, laughing off the excess energy. “I really see now why you’re the best. It was so moving that even I almost believed you were secretly in love with me.” Byulyi froze. “I’m sure umma and appa will have a lot to talk about tonight, so I hope you don’t mind that we left early. Hey, why don’t you turn over this way? There’s a great little cliff over there.”

Byulyi shifted her grip on the steering wheel. “Right now?”

“I have a couple hours left on the clock with you, don’t I?” Yongsun replied with a grin.

“Of course.”

They veered off the asphalt and onto a dirt road where the dust clouded their windows, and parked between two trees overlooking the forest below. The half-moon hung above them as they leaned back against the coupe.

“So how do you know Irene?” Yongsun asked, hugging herself against the chill as she looked up at the night sky.

Her skin prickled at the name. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Byulyi shoved her hands in her pocket.

“Ah, good to know you uphold your confidentiality clause. But don’t think I didn’t notice the look in your eyes when umma mentioned her.” Yongsun’s eyes shifted to meet hers, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Irene is my best friend,” she explained, unprompted, “and I was there, you know, when she came out to her parents. Umma and appa...I guess they forgot—they had no reason to think about it until now, after all—but her parents...they cut her off after that. You should’ve seen the look on their faces. I...I wanted to scream and yell, but Irene just stood there like a statue and let them say all these awful things about her. Her girlfriend at the time was there too. I guess in the end, there was too much pressure on the poor girl, and she didn’t want to be cut off like Irene was. Took off to Germany and never came back.”

“This was recent then?” Byulyi asked.

“Last year. But it was a long time coming.” She ran a hand over the hood of the car in the space between  them. “Thank you for taking care of her, Byul,” she whispered. “I’m a little surprised that she would hide this from me, but I’m glad she had you when she needed it most.”

Byulyi smiled. “She’s an extraordinary woman.”

“That she is.”

“Have you met Seulgi?” Byulyi asked with a sly smile.

Yongsun’s eyes widened. “Seulgi? With the chestnut hair, about this tall—”

“Stupid smile all the time.”

Yongsun sprung up. “Yes! Oh my god,  are they—-Irene invited me over for lunch a few days ago and Seulgi was there. She cooked for us and everything. Amazing gentleman, very sweet—kind of like you...oh my god, is she—are they—-”

Byulyi couldn’t help but laugh as the expressions flickered across Yongsun’s face. She gasped at every piece of her own logic, and it was adorable. “Guess you’ll have to find out,” she said, reaching forward to brush a finger under Yongsun’s chin.

Yongsun’s cheeks flared up under the moonlight. “What was that?” she cried, lightly smacking her arm. “That was so greasy!”

Byulyi’s laughed grew as she warded off Yongsun’s attacks. “You signed up for this!” she cried, batting off an incoming blow.

“Hyejin said I’d be treated like a queen, not doused in grease by a suited dork,” Yongsun returned in between her giggles. At the familiar mantra, Byulyi’s laugh began to fade. At the affectionate teasing, her heart skipped a beat. She’d lowered her guard far too much. Clearing now, she rubbed her neck to avoid Yongsun’s curious gaze in the awkward silence.

She cleared again to fill the air with any sound at all.

“Nice night.” she said.

Yongsun shuffled closer and nudged her shoulder with her own, then, unexpectedly, laid her head on Byulyi’s shoulder. Byulyi stiffened. It wasn’t the first time a woman laid her head on her shoulder, but there were many things that Yongsun did—that Yongsun made her feel—that were so simple, but so different. She wanted so badly to reciprocate the gesture, rest her head on Yongsun’s or lean into her touch in any way, but something pulled her back.

Treat her like a queen, but not your queen.

The wind swept through the trees. Byulyi took off her jacket, unwillingly shrugging off Yongsun in the process, and swung the jacket over Yongsun’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Yongsun mumbled. Much to her relief, Byulyi soon felt the warmth on her shoulder once more, her heart pounding with fear when she realized how much she missed it in the short moment they’d been apart.

This is just for tonight.

She rested her head on Yongsun’s.

“Do you do this often with your clients?”

Byulyi thought for a moment. “No.”

“You don’t have to lie for me,” Yongsun chuckled.

“Strangely,” Yongsun closed her eyes as she listened to the vibrations of Byulyi’s voice as she spoke, “I’m not a very good liar. Especially to you.”

“You’re very good at making women feel special, aren’t you?” Yongsun laughed, but there was something else tinged in the sound that Byulyi didn’t dare label.

Byulyi smiled into her hair. “Every woman deserves to feel special.”

Then the warmth beside her was gone, and Byulyi was stunned to find how chilly the night really was. “Well then, enlighten me!” Yongsun had leapt off the hood of the car, grinning broadly. “What kind of things do you usually do?”

Yongsun’s dress beneath the jacket glowed white against the silhouettes of her skin, and it was so beautiful that Byulyi had forgotten the question almost immediately.

“Byul?”

“Y-yes?”

Yongsun stepped closer. “Tell me, what do you usually do to make women feel special?”

“Whatever they need,” Byulyi said. She stared down at her hands. “Provided it’s not ual or romantic. Usually, it’s cooking, talking...I’m...pretty good at washing hair, but that isn’t often requested.”

“I’m not sure I’d like to be in the same room as a beautiful, fully clothed stranger myself,” Yongsun laughed.

“I-I think, um,” she caught Yongsun’s expectant eyes, and swallowed the compliment on her tongue when she felt the heat crawl up her collar, “I think...people tend to prefer, um, simple things sometimes like...reading or dancing—”

“Dancing?” Yongsun beamed.

Byulyi grinned at the familiar prompt, and offered her hand. “Would you like to dance?” she said, scrunching her nose in a wide grin.

Yongsun took her hand, the too-long suit jacket falling just over her hand, and if the moment wasn’t adorable enough, she tucked her hair behind her ear and look up, her big eyes reflecting the stars. “But we don’t have any music,” she whispered.

Byulyi swallowed. Breathed. Resumed her mask.

“Just follow me.”

—

In the days that followed, Wheein gave her the vacation days as promised, but the young entrepreneur still found herself greeting her employee every morning. Byulyi often stood around the reception desk, sighing wistfully at nothing in particular. Sometimes she’d make tea, or more accurately, she’d boil water, then walk away to sigh somewhere else. On the third day, Hyejin piled a stack of paper in front of her, and said, “If you’re going to stand around making Wheeinie uncomfortable all day, you might as well do something productive and help me do some filing.”

For several days, Byulyi came in, with her painstakingly ironed suit each time, to sit on the floor of Hyejin’s office as she quietly filed away. Hyejin would type away at her computer, cringing whenever Byulyi exhaled. She’d promised Wheein that she’d let her troubled best friend do whatever she wanted until she felt better, but she was at her wit’s end. Worse of all, once the work ran out, Byulyi went right back to moping in various corners of the office.

Finally, after a full week of Byulyi’s insufferable angst, Hyejin had enough. She pushed back her chair and glared down at Byulyi’s long body, which was, on this particular day, splayed out on her carpet as if trying to blend in.

“Unnie!” Hyejin cried.

Byulyi’s head fell to the side to watch her with her empty eyes.

Hyejin threw up her hands. “What the ?”

“What,” Byulyi mumbled.

Hyejin gestured wildly to the space across her office. “How long are you going to pretend you’re a stupid hamster rug?” she yelled. Byulyi heaved a sigh, and turned away. “Seriously, unnie,” Hyejin said softly, going over to nudge her side with a foot, “when are you going to talk to us?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

Hyejin groaned and threw herself on the couch. “You asked for a couple of weeks off. We gave it to you. And now you’ve just spent  half your break being weird in the office. You should be at home, and going on dates, and writing books, and whatever else you want to do.”

“Nah.’

“Moon Byulyi, I’m going to kick your ing if you don’t talk to me right this second,” Hyejin growled, jabbing a finger into her own open palm for emphasis.

But Byulyi’s cheeks remained glued to the carpet. “What do you wanna talk about?” she drawled.

“What do I want to talk about?” Hyejin fumed. “I want to talk about what the you’re doing with you goddamn life!”

Byulyi winced, but considered the question for a moment. edged open, then shut closed when she realized she didn’t have an answer. “My life? I don’t know,” she confessed quietly. “I don’t even know what I want to do.”

Hyejin softened. “Do you...want to start working again?”

Byulyi swung her head vigorously from left to right. “No.”

“Wheein told me that,” Hyejin paused to bite her lip, “you don’t want to be a Valet anymore.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but even I can see you’re on the fence about it. Is it because of Yongsun? I know I shouldn’t have forced you to do something you weren’t comfortable with, but I was just...you know…”

“What?”

Hyejin groaned loudly, and ran a hand down her face. “I was worried, okay? God, you’re always making me say these embarrassing things.”

Byulyi sat up, and gave Hyejin a long look. A lazy smile grew on her face as Hyejin began to shift uncomfortably. “Maybe you should be more honest,” she chuckled half-heartedly. “Nothing wrong with admitting how much you love me, Hyejinie.”

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “So should you. About your own feelings.”

Byulyi folded her knees up to her chest. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“About Yongsun.”

“Is that your matchmaking sixth sense telling you?” She leaned her head on her knees, and turned to make a face at Hyejin.

“Actually,” Hyejin propped her chin up in both hands, a wicked smile spread across her red lips, “Wheein and I saw everything with our own eyes.”

Byulyi unfolded herself slowly. “What? What are you talking about?”

“We were sitting behind you, you know. You were just too sweaty to notice,” Hyejin scoffed.

“You’re not serious.”

Hyejin cleared . “‘With all due respect, Sir,’” she mimicked in a high voice, “‘Yongsun is one of the most beautiful, intelligent, and brave women I know,’ et cetera, et cetera. Sound familiar? Oh! And when Yongsun took your hand and left...I can totally see why you’d fall head over heels for that woman. That was seriously hot as hell.”

“Oh my god,” Byulyi mumbled into her hands, mortified. “WHY?”

Hyejin hid behind a fist to stifle her laugh. “Don’t be mad, unnie. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. For the record, Wheein told me not to meddle—she thought we were just having dinner—but I wanted to see for myself before I gave up on the idea. The first time might have just been stupid fun, but when I saw how badly you were affected by it, I had to see for myself.”

She placed a hand on Byulyi’s shoulder, and when she didn’t flinch back, she pulled her closer into a hug. “The point is,” Hyejin continued, “you like her, and she likes you too.”

“Stop,” Byulyi whispered. “Don’t...joke about things like this. And I’m not stupid, I know. I know that she’s...different from other clients. I know that, but I’m not...I’m just a Valet, Hyejin. That’s the problem. Beyond this,” she tugged at the hem of her black suit jacket, “I don’t have anything. I don’t know how else to be. Do you get it, Hyejin?”

For a long time, Hyejin didn’t say anything. She watched the way her best friend’s knuckles gripped at the jacket. Though she seldom spoke so openly about her feelings, Hyejin knew it was a longstanding conflict, even when she first approached the nervous new graduate with the idea. She remembered the way she lit up, then retreat back into herself as she shook her head and pushed the idea back into her lap. She smiled, thinking how little the shy university student who tripped over her bag in the lecture hall had changed in spite of all lives she’d changed.

Perhaps it was time to put that sparkle back into their star.

“Hey, unnie. I have a batch of fresh meat coming in for interviews on Monday. Why don’t you sit in?”

—

On Monday, Hyejin presented her with a jacket of maroon tweed with a matching vest. “Wear it with the white pants,” she’d instructed, “no tie. You’ll look like my assistant. You’re going to walk in like you own the place, alright? I want you to show these kids what a Valet looks like. A gold-star, grade A Valet. So you better awe them.”

An hour later, she stepped into the lobby, where a line of men and women with neatly combed hair, pressed shirts, and carefully ironed pants greeted her. Byulyi’s gaze quickly scanned over the eager, confident faces, then at Hyejin, who stood at the front of the group, explaining the process like a battle-hardened sergeant.

Wheein appeared beside her with a bottle of water. “We’re going to meet them out back in the garden.” Byulyi took the bottle, and, together with Wheein, walked past the hopeful recruits, past the waterfall, the row of prep rooms, Hyejin’s office, and into the back garden.

A long table with three seats under the wooden arch was set up on the far side of the modest garden. An ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne awaited them beside three slim flutes. They crossed the stone path and sat down under the shade of the leafy vines above them.

“I should’ve moped out here,” Byulyi quipped.

“I would’ve killed you if you depress my flowers to death,” Wheein replied, handing Byulyi a yellow legal pad. “Here, for notes.”

“Notes for what?”

Wheein shrugged, then proceeded to lay out an array of snacks. “Anything that strikes you. Personality, style, charisma. The good and the bad. Hyejin will lead the interview, but we’ll be watching and observing, and we’ll all discuss briefly after each interview. Simple enough, right?”

“Then what’s up with the drill sergeant speech?”

Wheein ripped open a bag of chips and poured it into a clear bowl. “Snacks?” Byulyi shook her head. “Honestly,” Wheein said, waving a chip between her fingers, “I think Hyejin just likes it. Officially, she says it’s to scare off the not-so-serious candidates.”

“I can see that.”

Several minutes later, Hyejin waltzed in, followed by the first interviewee, a tall, slender man in a blue polo and shorts. Byulyi noted down his outfit. Contrary to what his appearance suggested, his mannerisms spoke of exactly the kind of gentleman material that people loved. Perhaps too much so. Byulyi scribbled away.

“Not bad,” Wheein said.

“Good with compliments,” Hyejin nodded, “without being creepy. I’m glad someone else appreciates your new hair colour, Wheeinie. It’s adorable.”

“Lucky for me,” Wheein said, bumping her shoulder against her fiancée’s, “I can shave my head and still count on you to call me adorable.”

“Wheeinie!” Hyejin gasped. “You don’t think I’m being sincere?”

“Wheein can punch you in the face and you’d still think it’s adorable,” Byulyi added, rolling her eyes. Hyejin swung around and punched her hard in the shoulder. “OW! What was that for?”

Hyejin flipped her hair. “Exposing my secrets,” she huffed.

“Not cute at all, Hyejin,” Byulyi said.

The indomitable woman stuck her tongue out, then called in the next candidate.

The interviewees came and went, beautiful men and women eager to offer their love to the world. Hyejin challenged them with questions and scenarios, while Wheein played the role of the heartbroken maiden with flourish. The candidates who could not unnerve themselves before Hyejin’s piercing glare would back away from Wheein, duck their heads, and fumble the rest. Those brave enough to succeed would look Hyejin straight in the eye, assert their position, and, if they were smart, ensured her they were non-threatening.

Byulyi was narrowing down the choices one more time when the last candidate strode in. A small slim woman with dark chocolate hair tied back into a low ponytail. She wore a black shirt, black tie, and a coal-black suit, pristinely ironed, that hugged her body in all the right places. Her short, straight bangs fell over a white mask that stopped just at the tip of her nose.

The three at the panel gaped.

Byulyi nudged Hyejin. “I didn’t see a masked hero in the lobby. What is this?”

Hyejin glanced at her watch. “Well, this doesn’t happen every day, does it? Good thing we’ve got some time. This is going to be really interesting.”

“Maybe she’s confused us for a variety show,” Wheein chirped. Then, she turned to the last candidate with a dimpled grin.  “Can you introduce yourself, please, Tuxedo Mask?”

Tuxedo Mask bent forward in a low bow, long and elegant, like the first note of a waltz. When she straightened herself up, Byulyi could’ve sworn she saw her wink behind the white mask. She looked down at her folded hands to avoid the discomfort.

“Is that it?” Hyejin asked, crossing her arms.

The masked stranger crossed the stones, and kneeled right in front of Byulyi, whose heart jumped at the unfamiliar sight. All afternoon the interviewees had interacted with Wheein, whose presence invited the perfect image of the well-deserving client. Truthfully, it had never been spoken outright that Wheein would play the role, but between Hyejin’s hard gaze, and Byulyi’s cool confidence, every candidate had made the assumption. Now, as the woman kneeled before her, one arm draped across her knee and the other hidden behind her back, Byulyi wasn’t sure how to react.

From behind her back, a single long-stemmed rose appeared in her white-gloved hand.

The magic trick incited a collective gasp from the panel before the world went still. Wheein was nearly folded over onto Hyejin’s lap as she tried to get a better look. Hyejin had dropped her pencil along with her jaw. And Byulyi, unfamiliar to this position, reached out apprehensively. Tuxedo Mask met her halfway. Warm fingers curled around Byulyi’s own as brown eyes clashed like lightning.

There was something familiar about the woman. Her free hand reached out toward the mask, but another hand pressed into her palm, and pushed it back into her own space. Dumbfounded, Byulyi dropped both hands into her lap, the rose held gingerly between her thumb and forefinger.

Tuxedo Mask bowed again, then turned and disappeared through the glass doors.

Wheein was the first to speak: “I like her.”

“Wheein-ah,” Hyejin whined, “can you imagine all the complaints coming in?”

Wheein laughed, and poked Hyejin on the nose. “Hyejin-ah, you’re so cute when you look all jealous and dangerous. Don’t worry, Wheein won’t run off with someone who didn’t even give Wheein a rose.” Hyejin pouted back, and Wheein took the opportunity to press both palms against her fiancée’s cheeks, giggling when Hyejin screwed up her face and stuck out a tongue.

“But who was that?” Byulyi whispered.

Hyejin broke away from Wheein’s attention for only a moment. “Not a damn clue, Sailor Moon,” she said.

Unperturbed by the sudden theatrics, Hyejin dug her fingers into Wheein’s side, grinning when she heard the yelping laughter she loved so much. Wheein protested loudly, but Hyejin pushed forward, tickling both sides until Wheein shot out of her chair and raced across the garden with her fiancée close behind.

Meanwhile, Byulyi looked down at the rose, then at her other hand, where a slip of paper laid on her palm.

Meet me outside.

Byulyi’s head shot up, but her friends were still more than a little distracted. Hyejin caught Wheein in her arms, laughing as Wheein pretended to push her away only to pull her back in and meet her lips halfway. Byulyi bit her lip.

“Hyejin-ah,” she called, then made a face when all she received was a deep moan. She averted her eyes from the increasingly heated make-out session before her. Ever the third wheel, she wondered if one could ever really get used to such a discomforting honor. Without another thought, she took her gifts and slipped past the couple to mull over the situation some more in the lobby.

If she turned back then, she might have noticed Hyejin and Wheein doubled over in laughter in the garden, maybe even the thumbs up being exchanged. But caught up in the possibilities of the note, she simply walked through the waiting room, where several lingering interviewees watched her admiringly as she passed, and into the lobby.

Little did she expect the masked woman to already be waiting with her arms crossed at the entrance.