Every second- no, every millisecond, someone thinks of a new idea. A new creation. Perhaps a new recipe, a new story idea, or even a new cure for an illness. No matter what, imagination is what rules the world. To some, reality is what matters. But to me, the only way to live in reality is to live in fantasy.

“And now, a replay of an award ceremony from a year ago…” The television blared. “Awarded to Miss Ume, personally by the president…”

I set down my cup of tea, and twirled around in my chair to face the television. Television, or otherwise known as T.V.’s- a wonderful creation, really. Too bad it had a tendency to turn people into couch potatoes.

My eyes were glued to the screen as I watched the video of the awards ceremony. The president had personally handed me a plaque of honor, for inventing a self-writing machine. Too put it simply, all you needed to do was equip a helmet, hook it up to the machine, and it would write for you.

It was a creation aimed for lazy creatures- those who didn’t revel in the pure beauty of writing. 

“But where has she gone? After finishing up many wonderful inventions, Miss Paek Ume has disappeared from the world of inventing…”

I grinned upon hearing those statements. The media always made it sound like I was… dead, or captured and vanished from the face of Earth.

“Why I’m gone? That’s for me to know, and for you to figure out,” I spoke to no one in particular, twirling my dyed brown hair around my fingers. Black hair never suited me- it felt too plain, and being an eccentric person, I was inclined to dye my hair brown. I closed my eyes, and voices- perhaps memories- began to ring in my mind.

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“Congratulations to Paek Ume for winning the 2011 first prize, for her noble creation of an all-function robot maid!”

“Ah, such a waste. Just first prize… do better next time, Ume!”

“Only first place? What a regret.”

“Ume, since I’m your best friend, don't you want to lend me some money?”

“Ume! Since you have so many connections, don’t you think you can do a favor for me?”

“Hey Ume, make this for me! You will, since you’re a genius, right?”

“Ume-“

“Hey, Um-"

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When you start to do well in something, others’ expectations rise. And soon, nothing you do is good anymore. 

“Oh well,” I sipped my tea, eyeing my creations. A giraffe trash can stood tall in the corner; a turtle mail-sender sat on my desk. True, my creations were odd, but they were all inspired by some part of my childhood. Yes, I am a coward. I hated stress, and hated failing others’ expectations. Ever since last January, I had chosen to remain in my house, hidden from the paparazzi. I declined all requests for inventions, and made no contact with anyone else. Yawning, I stretched my arms out, and let them fall limply to my side.

“A new day, a new beginning,” I hummed to myself as I pulled the curtains away from a window. Rays of bright light blinded me, and I shielded my eyes as I struggled to see outside the window. A gust of wind sharply cut my cheek as I stepped onto the balcony. I leaned over the railing, letting the breeze caress my face. 

Beneath me was Seoul; the large metropolitan city. Buildings shot up into the sky, and people were crowded into every inch of the city. Typical of a large city.

My reverie was interrupted when my phone began to rang. As odd as it sounded, “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” was set as my ring tone. I was attracted to lullabies; they had a soothing melody that always calmed me down. 

“Hello?” I spoke.

“Paek Ume, we’d like to invite you to an intervie-“

“No, sorry, I will not be attending.” I immediately cut her off. 

“But you, the genius inventor, mu-“

“I will not attend.” I spoke firmly, enunciating every word. Irritated, I snapped my cell phone shut and threw it carelessly onto the oak coffee table. Haven’t I made it clear that I didn’t want to be involved with such things?

I started out making inventions for my own good, for other’s good, and for the good of the world. In the end, I was hired to invent machines that didn’t serve any good- they merely pleased the greedy hands of all the lazy bums out there. At my age, I should have been going to school and making friends. Instead, I was cooped up inside my house, working on inventions for those who hired me. Because of my love for inventing, I never thought about going to school, despite how much I actually wanted to go.

My stomach growled, and I lumbered over to my refrigerator. The shelves were nearly empty of food; all that remained was one tomato and one cheese stick. 

“Fine, be that way,” I huffed and slammed the refrigerator door shut. At this point, I was logical enough to know that I needed to go grocery shopping. Reluctantly, I pulled on a dress and a pair of white flats. Today was a warm day; the heat seeped around the house, sometimes suffocating me. I slung my bag over my shoulder, and checked that I had enough money for two weeks’ worth of groceries.

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Seoul’s busy streets always overwhelmed me with its loud noises and constant buzz. I adjusted my sunglasses, pushing them further up my nose. Truthfully, I didn’t have a grocery store in mind. Usually I just walked around the city, hoping to find one.

And I indeed, found one.

“Shikshin’s Groceries,” I said out loud, facing the store in front of me. It was a small, but quaint looking grocery store. Dangling off a few nails was a feeble-looking sign, with the words “Shikshin’s Groceries” written in white paint. Shrugging my shoulders, I entered. As expected, the store was mostly empty except for a few gossiping teenagers. As I made my way towards the poultry aisle, a hush fell over a gaggling group in the corner.

“Hey, is that-?” A girl around my age pointed at me, motioning for her friends to look.

“There’s no way someone as famous as Ume would come to such a small store,” Her friend laughed and waved off the idea. “Besides, no one knows where she is anymore.” The group of girls returned to their gossiping, and continued to laugh away.

Yeah, right. When did you decide where I could and couldn’t shop?

“Lettuce, fish, instant noodles…” One by one, I threw random groceries into the basket. All food was edible, so I didn’t have a preference as to what I wanted to eat. The basket grew full, and my arms began to feel sore from carrying the loaded basket. I made my way towards the register, and adjusted my sunglasses once again.

“That will be 35,480 won,” The lady behind the register said in a bored tone. 

“Keep the change,” With a hint of a smile on my face, I handed her a wad of bills, perhaps adding up to about 50,000 won. As I walked away, I heard her call out with confusion in her voice. Money isn’t the most important thing in life. It didn’t matter whether you got change or not.

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I stood in front of my apartment complex, my gaze drawn to the top. The building I lived in was one of the most expensive housing places in the city, mostly because of its superb security and notable view. Glass panels on the building reflected light, giving the building a sparkling and gleaming look. I had specifically chosen the topmost floor- an isolated floor that I felt comfortable in.

The revolving doors began to spin slowly as I walked inside. I shuffled out of the revolving doors, a carpet of red leading to the fancy elevators. I gazed at my reflection at the metal doors of the elevator. I didn’t see any change from how I looked for the last few years. 

ding!

The elevator doors opened, releasing a flood of elite-looking elders. I bowed my head down, trying to keep my profile low. Quietly, I entered the emptied elevator, and pressed my floor button. The elevator shot up, and I tightly gripped onto the railings. Up, up, and up. 

ding!

The doors opened, and I stepped out onto the white, marble floors. My floor was mostly deserted, and there wasn’t anyone who came up here except for the janitors. 

I kept my eyes downcast during the walk to my room. For some reason, I had a hard time making eye contact, thus my eyes were usually drawn towards the ground. There came a shuffling noise in front of me, and my eyes slightly widened when I spotted a shadow in front of me. My head shot up to see a boy staring right back at me. He was around my age, perhaps a few years older. We stared at each other in silence, unmoving. Well, maybe not really staring- my eyes kept flitting away from his.

“You are Paek Ume?”

With a face void of emotion, I looked him straight in the eye. Regardless of the strong front I put on, my heart was beating fast- someone knew my identity. He seemed to expect silence as an answer, and calmly continued.

“I’m here… to ask something.”

My eye twitched at that statement. I avoided him as I walked to the door, and punched in my code number. My apartment door automatically opened, and I turned back to face him.

“I don’t take any more requests. Now, if you excuse me-“ 

He harshly grabbed my arm, stopping me from entering my apartment. “Listen to what I have to say.”

I tried to jerk my arm away from his strong grip. His voice was dead serious, as his face remained unsmiling. 

“Please,” He whispered, letting go of my arm. I nearly flinched at the coldness of his eyes- they seemed even sharper than the finest knives. But there was a glint of honesty in his eyes, and I truly valued honesty.

“Fine. Just… go inside,” I nearly choked on my words, and motioned for him to enter my apartment. His lips tugged into a gentle smile, and entered. He was just cold a second before; now he was smiling? Odd.

“Please sit there,” I pointed to my automatically heating sofa. He sat down the sofa, and took a good look at my living room. I briskly walked into my kitchen to brew some tea; it was common courtesy to do so. While I waited for the tea to brew, I quietly observed the stranger.

His broad shoulders and tall frame made him look like a model. He had dark brown hair that fell in waves over his forehead. A perfectly sculpted face that looked like it came from a painting. And his eyes- I felt that if I could fall into their abyss of darkness. 

Gah. Ume, no! I shook my head frantically, trying to rid myself of my mortifying thoughts. I coughed and poured the tea into a few china teacups. White clouds of heat rose from the surfaces of the hot tea, warming my hands. Cautiously, I tiptoed back to the living room, a tray in my hands. The stranger was observing a few of my inventions, his face impassive. 

“Your tea,” I set down a teacup on a table, carefully making sure that the tea didn’t slosh and drip over the edge.  “Chrysanthemum.”

Wordlessly, he looked up and returned to the couch. I sat down on the plush chair opposite of the couch, with the table in between us as a divider. The silence began to make me feel uneasy. Avoiding his eyes, I asked the first question I thought of.

“Who are you?” I placed my hands on my lap, nervously fidgeting.

“Well, it depends. I could be a someone, a no one, or me.” He pleasantly smiled, his finger circling the rim of the teacup. The first thing I wanted to do was snort, but I held it in. 

“Really,” I smiled back, before letting that smile abruptly fall. “But I’m looking for an answer, not a riddle.”

He grinned. “Yong Junhyung.”

I nodded, sipping the tea. “And your reason for coming here?”

“I need you to invent something for me.” He replied, no hesitation in his voice. I slammed my teacup onto its matching saucer, the tea splashing onto the carpet beneath the table. 

“In that case, you’d better leave,” Irritation boiled up in my heart. “I’m not inventing ever again.”

“And for what reason?” Junhyung ignored my actions and words, his smile still sitting on his face.

“Personal reasons,” I muttered, and stooped down to dab the stained carpet with a tissue. The stains were stubborn, and wouldn’t rub off the pure white material.

“Is that so,” He mused. “Well then.”

So, why was he still sitting there? I looked at him expectantly, hoping that he would get up and leave. But no. He remained, paying to attention to my questioning glances.

“Didn’t you hear me?” I raised my eyebrow. “Please leave if you have nothing else to say.”

“Oh, I have plenty to say,” He grinned. 

“Look, I don’t have the ti-“

“Can you make me a Time Machine?”

 ❖ ∂υℓcєє’s cαи∂ץℓαи∂