“…she said this was her most difficult book to write, and also her best-selling book. I’ve read the English version when I was in middle school but it’s always good to re-read a book after some time passes, it often happens that we find more things in the book than when we read it for the first time.” I keep my voice low while suppressing my excitement, and Jongdae listens attentively beside me. “I should shut up already. But anyway, how did you find that place?”

          Jongdae chuckles, and glances at the plane window next to me. “Just some browsing.”

          “I’m so elated.” I tap my feet lightly. “So have you visited Jeju before? What would you recommend?”

          “Honestly I’ve been here just once for a trip in high school. It has obviously changed a lot since that time so I’d do some research again.”

          “I’ll do some too.” I say. The plane lands, and we go straight to the hotel to rest. We go for food adventure at night, and I taste the best seafood stew I’ve ever had in my life. Jeju days would be just as splendid as the others.

*

          The next thing we know we’re on the night before our last day in Jeju on a Friday. Tomorrow will be a free day with a flight back to Seoul at night, and I’m currently discussing a recap of our Jeju trip over dinner in a humble but nice private room at a seaside restaurant fifteen minutes’ walk from the hotel.

          “Probably the very first time that I’m disappointed about making this book is that we can’t have a motion picture. We could’ve rented a drone and flown it across Hallasan. I can’t imagine how majestic that would be. My neck still feels sore after turning all the ways, trying to see all it has. And the most surprising thing is, until the end of the day, my feet felt okay!”

          Jongdae grins as he takes bits of food from the many plates on the table that separates us. “Yeah, ‘until’. The moment we arrived in the hotel, we could barely walk. I almost couldn’t bring myself to your room to give the photos.”

          “Right! I also couldn’t get up from my bed that time but we were still trying to pretend everything was cool.” I laugh.

          We continue talking about the impressive sunrise at Seongsan Park and beautiful beaches we visit, also the endless list of food we’ve tried. We’re enjoying a variety of dishes from chicken, beef and seafood that the owner, a female diver, caught today.

          “Do you have somewhere you want to go tomorrow?” Jongdae asks. I’m chewing as I think, and I immediately feel unsettling to admit I haven’t found anywhere good to spend our last day. After he brought me to book street in Busan, I feel like I owed him somewhere cool to go to too. But our itinerary already covered what I figured he’d like, all those locations with breathtaking sceneries, and I run out of ideas.

          “I’m… I’m still looking for it.”

          “I think we’ve gone to all the good ones. I really like the itinerary for Jeju.”

          Exactly, I think to myself. Jongdae is searching on his phone and scrolls the page.

          “I find a few places, not necessarily popular but interesting, but in the same time I feel like we could find these in Seoul. Do you want to see?”

          I move to Jongdae’s side, and nod as we see a website of Jeju tourism. It’s mainly chic new cafes and shopping spots, and Jongdae was right, we don’t necessarily have to go to Jeju for these. “Oh, that’s the café by G-Dragon… Yeondong Shopping District… Jeju Lovela—”

          I stop halfway and let my head down, while Jongdae quickly closed the page. A few seconds later the ahjumma opens the sliding door of our room bringing a few bottles of soju and a pair of shots. “How’s the food, kids? Here’s from me.” she says in a thick Jeju dialect.

          “Wow.” I exclaim. “Thank you, ma’am.”

          “Tell me if you want more!” she says as she leaves. I let out a small laugh, and Jongdae and I stare at the drink. I was going to get up to go back to my spot, but Jongdae opens his mouth first. “You can stay there, it’d be easier to pour the drink for you.”

          “Oh.” I smile as I sit back. We pour each other drinks, and the talk continues with different topics. “Why do you hate broccoli?”

          Jongdae almost spits out his drink. “What?”

          “I saw you putting aside broccoli very carefully, once in Seoul and another time two days ago in the hotel.”

          “Well… I just don’t like it.”

          “I, an omnivore, can’t relate. Sorry for the lame conversation, my head is getting lighter.”

          “You haven’t drunk that much. I thought office workers tolerate alcohol well, with all those meetings and dinners.”

          “Stereotyping!” I point my empty shot at him. “We drink way less in Japan. Nothing can beat Korea about this.” I glance at the bottles. “You seem to have good tolerance.”

          “Hmmm, not that strong, not that weak.”

          “I’ve been in high spirits. I love this business trip. For the first time, I feel like I love my job. I’ve been dying to do field work—my body may not be used to this but no problem—I’ve been making coffee, scanning, copying, those ridiculous things for two years… My manager finally trusts me with this.”

          “Can I be honest?” Jongdae says as he pours me a shot.

          “Yeah?”

          “I’ve been photographer Baek Soojung’s disciple for a few months, and I haven’t done anything exciting since joining the studio. She gave me this project, and I was excited, of course, but she truthfully told me that this was originally for her, but she didn’t want to work with the writer that was previously assigned—”

          “Sato Sayaka.” I sneer.

          “—yeah. So she handed this to me, and I was a bit stressed. I was thinking about the language barrier, and my really kind director seemed to really resent this person.”

          “I wonder what happened between them.” I curl my lips.

          “But then I was informed that she was replaced with another writer, and I thought, one less problem with me. I worked hard on improving my Japanese.”

          “You learned Japanese for this work? That’s amazing.” I exclaim the latter part in Japanese and pat his shoulder lightly twice.

          Jongdae smiles a little. “Of course I must do that. I’m just so glad. We’re the same age, and you’re easy to work and communicate with. I’m in high spirits too.”

          I giggle, and the last drop of conscience inside of me tries to keep my voice on the normal pitch. “If I’m flushed red right now, it’s the alcohol, okay.”

          Jongdae laughs. “Yeah.”

          There’s silence after that. Together we’ve finished three bottles, and we both have our heads tilted a few degrees to the side. I straighten my legs and lean to the table. “I hope I could be this happy forever.”

          Jongdae nods. My eyes aimlessly wander around the room, and accidentally meet Jongdae’s. I let my sight down and focus on the wooden floor covered with thin carpet below.

          Jongdae moves closer to me by dragging his folded legs, and on the side of my body where it’s unseen by him, I clasp my hand into a fist. Oh wow. Is—this—happening?

          He lets his head be on the same level as mine, and he gets closer really slowly. I grit my teeth to suppress my increasingly irregular breath, my toes curl tightly. Oh God.

          Our faces are an inch apart, and that’s when something snaps in my head. I open my mouth a bit, and inhale deeply.

          “I don’t think we should do this.”

          Jongdae stops. He moves away just as slow as he approached, and moves back to his previous position.

          “I mean—we’re still working—I think—we should be—professional.”

          I try to look at his face, and he’s staring at the floor. He lifts his head, nods, and gives me his usual smile. “I understand.”

          I smile awkwardly, but I’m relieved to see that. “I’m sorry.”

          “No.” Jongdae instantly answers. “Then—later.”

          We look at each other, and I beam. “Yeah, later.”

If you wondered why Jongdae closed the browser immediately, you can find out here. (warning: )