Irene arrived at hogans pub feeling a lot fresher than the day before, but her reactions were still a little slower than usual. Her hangovers seemed to be gradually getting worse as she got older, and yesterday took the gold medal for the hangover of all hangovers. She had gone for a long walk along the coast from Malahide to Portmarnock earlier that day and the crisp fresh breeze helped to clear her fuzzy head. She had called into her parents' for Sunday dinner, where they presented her with a beautiful Waterford crystal vase for her birthday. It had been a wonderful, relaxing day with her parents and she almost had to drag herself off the comfortable couch to go to Hogan's.

Hogan's was a popular three-story club situated in the center of town, and even on a Sunday the place was jammed. The first floor was a trendy nightclub that played all the latest music from the charts. It was where the young, beautiful people went to show off their latest fashions. The ground floor was a traditional pub for the older crowd (it usually contained old men perched up on their bar stools and stooped over their pints contemplating life). A few nights a week there was a traditional music band that played all the old favorites, which was popular with the young and old. The basement was dark and dingy and it was where bands usually played, the clientele was purely students and Irene seemed to be the oldest person in there. The bar consisted of a tiny counter in the corner of the long hall, and it was surrounded by a huge crowd of young students dressed in scruffy jeans and ripped T-shirts, pushing one another violently in order to be served. The bar staff also looked like they should be in school and were rushing around at a hundred miles per hour with sweat dripping from their faces.

The basement was stuffy with no ventilation or air-conditioning at all, and Irene was finding it difficult to breathe in the smoky air. Practically everyone around her seemed to be smoking a cigarette, and her eyes were already stinging her. Irene dreaded to think what it might be like in an hour's time, although she seemed to be the only one who was bothered by it. She waved at Baekhyun to let him know she was there but decided not to make her way over, as he was surrounded by a crowd of girls. She wouldn't want to cramp his style. Irene had missed out on the whole student scene when she was younger. She had decided not to go to college after school and instead began working as a secretary, where she moved from job to job every few months, ending with the awful job she left so she could spend time with Seulgi while she was sick. She doubted she would have stayed at it that much longer anyway. Seulgi had studied marketing at Dublin City University but she never socialized much with her college friends; instead she chose to go out with Irene, Joy and Moonbyul, Yeri and whoever she was with at the time. Looking around at everyone, Irene didn't feel like she had missed anything special.

Finally Baekhyun managed to tear himself away from his female fans and make his way over to Irene.

“Well hello, Mr. Popular, I feel privileged you chose me to speak to next.” All the girls stared Irene up and down and wondered what the hell Baekhyun saw in this older woman.

Baekhyun laughed and rubbed his hands together cheekily. “I know! This band business is great, looks like I'll be getting a bit of action tonight,” he said cockily.

“As your sister it's always a pleasure to be informed of that,” Irene replied sarcastically. She found it impossible to maintain a conversation with Baekhyun, as he refused eye contact with her and instead scoured the crowds.

“OK, Baekhyun, just go, why don't you, and flirt with these beauties instead of being stuck here with your old sister.”

“Oh no, it's not that,” he said defensively. “It's just that we were told there might be a record company guy coming to see us play tonight.”

“Oh cool!” Irene's eyes widened with excitement for her brother. This obviously meant a lot to him, and she felt guilty for never taking an interest in it before. She looked around and tried to spot someone who looked like a record company guy. What would he look like? It's not as if he would be sitting in the corner with a notebook and pen scribbling furiously. Finally her eyes fell upon a woman who seemed much older than the rest of the crowd, more her own age. She was dressed in a black leather jacket, black slacks and a black T-shirt and stood with her hands on her hips staring at the stage. Yes, she was definitely a record company …girl? as she had stubble all around her jaw and looked like she hadn't been to bed for days. She must have stayed up all night every night this week attending concerts and gigs and probably slept all day.

“Over there, Baek!” Irene raised her voice over the noise and pointed at the woman. Baekhyun looked excited and his eyes followed to where her finger pointed. His smile faded as he obviously recognized the woman. “No, it's just Wannie!” he yelled, and he wolf-whistled to grab her attention.

Wannie twirled around trying to find his caller and nodded her head in recognition and made her way over. “Hey girl,” Baekhyun said, shaking her hand.

“Hi Baekhyun, how are you set?” The woman looked stressed.

“Yeah, OK,” Baekhyun nodded unenthusiastically. Somebody must have told Baekhyun that acting like you didn't care was cool.

“Sound check go OK?” She pressed him for more information.

“There were a few problems but we sorted them out.” “So everything's OK?”

“Sure.”

“Good.” Her face relaxed and he turned to greet Irene. “Sorry for ignoring you there, I'm Wendy.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Irene.”

“Oh sorry,” Baekhyun interrupted. “Irene, this is the owner; Wendy, this is my sister.” “Sister? Wow, you look nothing alike.”

“Thank God,” Irene mouthed to Wendy so Baekhyun couldn't see, and he laughed. “Hey Baek, we're on!” yelled a blue-haired boy at him.

“See you two later,” and he ran off.

“Good luck!” yelled Irene after him. “So you're a Park,” she said, turning to face Wendy.

“Well, no actually, I'm a Son,” she smiled. “I just took over the place a few weeks ago.” “Oh.” Irene was surprised. “I didn't know they sold the place. So are you going to change it to Son's then?”

“Can't afford to change all the lettering on the front.”

Irene laughed. “Well, everyone knows the name Park's at this stage; it would probably be stupid to change it.”

Wendy nodded in agreement. “That was the main reason actually.”

Suddenly Suho appeared at the entrance and Irene waved him over. “I'm so sorry I'm late, did I miss anything?” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss.

“Nope, he's just about to go on now. Suho, this is Wendy, the owner.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wendy said, shaking his hand.

“Are they any good?” Suho asked her, nodding his head in the direction of the stage. “To tell you the truth, I've never even heard them play,” Wendy said worriedly. “That was brave of you!” laughed Suho.

“I hope not too brave,” she said, turning to face the front as the boys took to the stage.

“I recognize a few faces here,” Suho said, scanning the crowd. “Most of them are under eighteen as well.”

A young girl dressed in ripped jeans and a belly top walked slowly by Suho with an unsure smile on her face. She placed her finger over her lip as though telling him to be quiet. Suho smiled and nodded back.

Irene looked at Suho questioningly. “What was that about?”

“Oh, I teach her English at the school. She's only sixteen or seventeen. She's a good girl, though.” Suho stared after her as she walked by, then added, “But she better not be late for class Tomorrow.”

Irene watched the girl down a pint with her friends, wishing she had had a teacher at school like Suho; all the students seemed to love him. And it was easy to see why; he was a lovable kind of person. “Well, don't tell her they're under eighteen,” Irene said under her breath, nodding her head in the direction of Wendy.

The crowd cheered and Baekhyun took on his moody persona as he lifted his guitar strap over his shoulder. The music started and after that there was no chance of carrying on any kind of conversation. The crowd began to jump up and down, and once too often Irene's foot was stomped on. Suho just looked at her and laughed, amused at her obvious discomfort. “Can I get you two a drink?” Wendy yelled, making a drinking motion with her hand. Suho asked for a pint of Budweiser and Irene settled for a 7UP. They watched Wendy battle through the moshing crowd and climb behind the bar to fix the drinks. She returned minutes later with their drinks and a stool for Irene. They turned their attention back to the stage and watched their brother perform. The music really wasn't Irene's type of thing, and it was so loud and noisy it was difficult for her to tell if they were actually any good. It was a far cry from the soothing sounds of her favorite REO Speedwagon CD, so perhaps she wasn't in the right position to judge the Black Strawberries. The name said it all, though, really.

After four songs Irene had had enough, and she gave Suho a hug and a kiss good-bye. “Tell Baekhyun I stayed till the end!” she yelled. “Nice meeting you, Wendy! Thanks for the drink!” she screamed and made her way back to civilization and cool fresh air. Her ears continued to ring all the way home in the car. It was ten o'clock by the time she got there. Only two more hours till May. And that meant she could open another envelope.

Irene sat at her kitchen table nervously drumming her fingers on the wood. She gulped back her third cup of coffee and uncrossed her legs. Staying awake for just two more hours had proved more difficult than she thought; she was obviously still tired from overindulging at her party.

She tapped her feet under the table with no particular rhythm, and then crossed her legs again. It was 11:30 P.M. She had the envelope on the table in front of her and she could almost see it sticking its tongue out and singing “Na-na na-na-na.”

She picked it up and ran it over in her hands. Who would know if she opened it early? Joy and Moonbyul had probably forgotten there was even an envelope for May, and Yeri was probably conked out after the stress of her two-day hangover. She could just as easily lie if they ever asked her if she cheated, then again they probably wouldn't even care. No one would know and no one would care.

But that wasn't true.

Seulgi would know.

Each time Irene held the envelopes in her hand she felt a connection with Seulgi. The last two times she opened them she had felt as though Seulgi were sitting right beside her and laughing at her reactions. She felt like they were playing a game together even though they were in two different worlds. But she could feel her, and she would know if she cheated, she would know if she disobeyed the rules of their game.

After another cup of coffee Irene was bouncing off the walls. The small hand of the clock seemed to be auditioning for a part in Baywatch with its slow-motion run around the dial, but eventually it struck midnight. Once again she slowly turned the envelope over and treasured every moment of the process. Seulgi sat opposite her at the table. “Go on; open it!”

She carefully tore open the seal and ran her fingers along it, knowing the last thing that had touched it was Seulgi's tongue. She slid the card out of its pouch and opened it.

"Go on, Disco Diva! Face your fear of karaoke at Club Diva this month and you never know, you might be rewarded . . .

PS, I love you . . ."

She felt Seulgi watching her and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile and she began to laugh. Irene kept repeating “no way!” whenever she caught her breath. Finally she calmed down and announced to the room, “Seulgi! There is absolutely no way I am going through with this!”

Seulgi laughed louder.

“This is not funny. You know how I feel about this, and I refuse to do it. Nope. No way. Not doing it.”

“You have to do it, you know,” laughed Seulgi.

“I do not have to do this!” “Do it for me.”

“I am not doing it for you, for me or for world peace. I hate karaoke!” “Do it for me,” she repeated.

The sound of the phone caused Irene to jump in her seat. It was Joy. “OK, it's five past twelve, what did it say? Moonbyul and I are dying to know!”

“What makes you think I opened it?”

“Ha!” Joy snorted. “Twenty years of friendship qualifies me as being an expert on you; now come on, tell us what it says.”

“I'm not doing it,” Irene stated bluntly.

“What? You're not telling us?”

“No, I'm not doing what she wants me to do.” “Why, what is it?”

“Oh, just Seulgi's pathetic attempt at being humorous,” she snapped at the ceiling. “Oh, I'm intrigued now,” Joy said, “tell us.”

“Irene, spill the beans, what is it?” Moonbyul was on the downstairs phone. “OK . . . Seulgi wants me . . . to . . . singatakaraoke,” she rushed out. “Huh? Irene, we didn't understand a word you said,” Joy gave out.

“No, I did,” interrupted Moonbyul. “I think I heard something about a karaoke. Am I right?” “Yes,” Irene replied like a bold little girl.

“And do you have to sing?” inquired Joy.

“Ye-eess,” she replied slowly. Maybe if she didn't say it, it wouldn't have to happen.

The other two burst out laughing so loud, Irene had to quickly remove the phone from her ear. “Phone me back when the two of you shut up,” she said angrily, hanging up.

A few minutes later they called back.

“Yes?”

She heard Joy snort down the phone, relapse into a fit of the giggles and then the line went dead.

Ten minutes later she phoned back.

“Yes?”

“OK.” Joy had an overly serious “let's get down to business” tone in her voice. “I'm sorry about that, I'm fine now. Don't look at me, Moonbyul,” Joy said away from the phone. “I'm sorry, Irene, but I just kept thinking about the last time you–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she interrupted, “you don't need to bring it back up. It was the most embarrassing day of my life, so I just happen to remember it. That's why I'm not doing it.”

“Oh, Irene, you can't let a stupid thing like that put you off!”

“Well, if that wouldn't put a person off, then they're clinically insane!” “Irene, it was only a little fall . . .”

“Yes, thank you! I remember it just fine! Anyway I can't even sing, Joy; I think I established that fact marvelously the last time!”

Joy was very quiet.

“Joy?” Still silence.

“Joy, you still there?” There was no answer.

“Joy, are you laughing?” Irene gave out. She heard a little squeak and the line went dead.

“What wonderfully supportive friends I have,” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh Seulgi!” Irene yelled. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me, not turning me into a nervous wreck!”

She got very little sleep that night.

---

“Happy britday Irene! Or should I say happy belated birthday?” Changmin laughed nervously. Irene's mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of her older brother standing on her doorstep. This was a rare occurrence; in fact, it may have been a first. She opened and closed like a goldfish, completely unsure of what to say. “I brought you a potted mini Phalaenopsis orchid,” he said, handing her a potted plant. “They have been shipped fresh, budding, and are ready to bloom.”

He sounded like an advertisement. Irene was even more stunned as she the tiny pink buds. “Gosh, Changmin, orchids are my favorite!” “Well, you have a nice big garden here anyway, nice and”–he cleared his throat–“green. Bit overgrown, though . . .” He trailed off and began that annoying rocking thing he did with his feet.

“Would you like to come in or are you just passing through?” Please say no, please say no. Despite the thoughtful gift, Irene was in no mood for Changmin's company.

“Well yes, I'll come in for a little while so.” He wiped his feet for a good two minutes at the door before stepping into the house. He reminded Irene of her old math teacher at school, dressed in a brown knitted cardigan with brown trousers that stopped just at the top of his neat little brown loafers. 

Changmin never seemed comfortable in his own skin. He looked like he was being choked to death by his tightly knotted (brown) tie, and he always walked as if he had a barge pole shoved up his backside. On the rare occasions that he smiled, the smile never managed to reach his eyes. He was the drill sergeant of his own body, screaming at and punishing himself every time he lapsed into human mode. But he did it to himself, and the sad thing was that he thought he was better off than everyone else for it. Irene led him into the living room and placed the ceramic pot on top of the TV for the time being.

“No, no, Irene,” he said, wagging a finger at her as though she were a naughty child. “You shouldn't put it there, it needs to be in a cool, draft-free location away from harsh sunlight and heat vents.”

“Oh, of course.” Irene picked the pot back up and searched around the room in panic for a suitable place. What had he said? A draft-free, warm location? How did he always manage to make her feel like an incompetent little girl?

“How about that little table in the center, it should be safe there.”

Irene did as she was told and placed the pot on the table, half expecting him to say “good girl.” Thankfully he didn't.

Changmin took his favorite position at the fireplace and surveyed the room. “Your house is very clean,” he commented.

“Thank you, I just, eh . . . cleaned it.”

He nodded as if he already knew.

“Can I get you a tea or coffee?” she asked, expecting him to say no.

“Yes, great,” he said, clapping his hands together, “tea would be splendid. Just milk, no sugar.”

Irene returned from the kitchen with two mugs of tea and placed them down on the coffee table. She hoped the steam rising from the mugs wouldn't murder the poor plant.

“You just need to water it regularly and feed it during the months of spring.” He was still talking about the plant. Irene nodded, knowing full well she would not do either of those things.

“I didn't know you had green fingers, Changmin,” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“Only when I'm painting with the children. At least that's what Juhee says,” he laughed, cracking a rare joke.

“Do you do much work in your garden?” Irene was anxious to keep the conversation flowing; as the house was so quiet, every silence was amplified.

“Oh yes, I love to work in the garden.” His eyes lit up. “Saturdays are my garden days,” he said, smiling into his mug of tea.

Irene felt as though a complete stranger were sitting beside her. She realized she knew very little about Changmin and he equally knew very little about her. But that was the way Changmin had always liked to keep things, he had always distanced himself from the family even when they were younger. He never shared exciting news with them or even told them how his day went. He was just full of facts, facts and more facts. The first time the family had even heard of Juhee was the day they both came over for dinner to announce their engagement. Unfortunately at that stage it was too late to convince him not to marry the flame-haired green-eyed dragon. Not that he would have listened anyway.

“So,” she announced, far too loudly for the echoing room, “anything strange or startling?” Like why are you here?

“No, no, nothing strange, everything is ticking over as normal.” He took a sip of tea then a while later added, “Nothing startling either, for that matter. I just thought I would pop in and say hello while I was in the area.”

“Ah, right. It's unusual for you to be over this side of the city.” Irene laughed. “What brings you to the dark and dangerous world of the north side?”

“Oh, you know, just a little business,” he mumbled to himself. “But my car's parked on the other side of the River Liffey of course!”

Irene forced a smile.

“Just joking of course,” he added. “It's just outside the house . . . it will be safe, won't it?” he asked seriously.

“I think it should be OK,” Irene said sarcastically. “There doesn't seem to be anyone suspicious hanging around the cul-de-sac in broad daylight today.” Her humor was lost on him. “How's Emily and Timmy, sorry, I mean Timothy?” That was an honest mistake for once.

Changmin's eyes lit up. “Oh, they're good, Irene, very good. Worrying, though.” He looked away and surveyed her living room.

“What do you mean?” Irene asked, thinking that perhaps Changmin might open up to her.

“Oh, there isn't one thing in particular, Irene. Children are a worry in general.” He pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose and looked her in the eye. “But I suppose you're glad you will never have to worry about all this children nonsense,” he said, laughing.

There was a silence.

Irene felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. “So have you found a job yet?” he continued on.

Irene sat frozen on her chair in shock; she couldn't believe he had the audacity to say that to her. She was insulted and hurt and she wanted him out of her house. She really wasn't in the mood to be polite to him anymore and she certainly couldn't be bothered explaining to his narrow little mind that she hadn't even begun looking for a job yet as she was still grieving the death of her husband. “Nonsense” that he wouldn't have to experience for another fifty years.

“No,” she spat out.

“So what are you doing for money? Have you signed on the dole?”

“No, Changmin,” she said, trying not to lose her temper, “I haven't signed on the dole, I get widow's allowance.”

“Ah, that's a great, handy thing, isn't it?”

“Handy is not quite the word I would use, devastatingly depressing is more like it.”

The atmosphere was tense. Suddenly he slapped his leg with his hand, signaling the end of the conversation. “I better motor on so and get back to work,” he announced, standing up and exaggerating a stretch as though he had been sitting down for hours.

“OK then.” Irene was relieved. “You better leave while your car is still there.” Once again her humor was lost on him; he was peering out the window to check.

“You're right; it's still there, thank God. Anyway, nice to see you and thank you for the tea,” he said to a spot on the wall above her head.

“You're welcome and thank you for the orchid,” Irene said through gritted teeth. He marched down the garden path and stopped midway to look at the garden. He nodded his head disapprovingly and shouted to her, “You really must get someone to sort this mess out,” and drove off in his brown family car.

Irene fumed as she watched him drive off and banged the door shut. That man made her blood boil so much she felt like knocking him out. He just hadn't a clue . . . about anything.

---

“Oh Joy I just HATE him,” Irene moaned to her friend on the phone later that night. “Just ignore him, Irene, he can't help himself, he's an idiot,” she replied angrily.

“But that's what annoys me even more. Everyone says he can't help himself or it's not his fault. He's a grown man, Joy. He's thirty-six years old. He should well know when to keep his mouth shut. He says those things deliberately,” she fumed.

“I really don't think he does it deliberately, Irene,” she said soothingly. “I genuinely think he called around to wish you a happy birthday . . .”

“Yeah! And what's that about?” Irene ranted. “Since when has he ever called around to my house to give me a birthday present? Never! That's when!”

“Well, thirty is more of a big deal than any other . . .”

“Not in his eyes it's not! He even said so at dinner a few weeks ago. If I recall, his exact words were,” she mimicked his voice, “I don't agree with silly celebrations blah-blah-blah, I'm a sap blah-blah-blah. He really is a .”

Joy laughed at her friend sounding like a ten-year-old. “OK, so he's an evil monster of a being who deserves to burn in hell!”

Irene paused. “Well, I wouldn't go that far, Joy . . .” Joy laughed. “Oh, I just can't please you at all, can I?”

Irene smiled weakly. Seulgi would know exactly how she was feeling, she would know exactly what to say and she would know exactly what to do. She would give her one of his famous hugs and all her problems would melt away. She grabbed a pillow from her bed and hugged it tight. She couldn't remember the last time she hugged someone, really hugged someone. And the depressing thing was that she couldn't imagine ever embracing anyone the same way again. “Helloooo? Earth to Irene? You still there or am I talking to myself again?”

“Oh sorry, Joy, what did you say?”

“I said, have you given any more thought to this karaoke business?” “Joy!” Irene yelped. “No more thought is required on that subject!”

“OK, calm down, woman! I was just thinking that we could hire out a karaoke machine and we could set it up in your living room. That way, you'll be doing what she wants minus the embarrassment! What do you think?”

“No, Joy, it's a great idea but it won't work; she wants me to do it in Club Diva, wherever that is.”

“Ah! So sweet! Because you're her Disco Diva?”

“I think that was the general idea,” Irene said miserably.

“Ah! That's a lovely idea, although Club Diva? Never heard of it.”

“Well, that's that settled then, if no one knows where it is, then I just can't do it, can I?” Irene said, satisfied she had found a way out.

They both said their good-byes and as soon as Irene had hung up, the phone rang again.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Mum!” Irene said accusingly. “Oh God, what have I done now?”

“I received a little visit from your evil son today and I'm not very happy.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, dear, I tried to call you earlier to tell you he was on his way over but I kept getting that answering machine, do you ever turn your phone on?”

“That is not the point, Mum.”

“I know, I'm sorry. Why, what did he do?”

“He opened his mouth. There lies the problem in itself.”

“Oh no, and he was so excited about giving you that present.”

“Well, I'm not denying that the present was very nice and thoughtful and all of those wonderful things, but he said some of the most insulting things without batting an eyelid!”

“Do you want me to talk to him for you?”

“No, it's OK; we're big boys and girls now. But thanks anyway. So what are you up to?” Irene was anxious to change the subject.

“Seohyun and I are watching a Denzel Washington film. Seohyun thinks she's going to marry him someday,” Elizabeth laughed.

“I am, too!” Seohyun shouted in the background.

“Well, sorry to burst her little bubble, but he's already married.” “He's married, honey.” Elizabeth passed on the message.

“I hate marriages. . . ,” Seohyun mumbled in the background. “Are the two of you on your own?” Irene asked.

“Frank is down the pub and Baekhyun is in college.”

“College? But it's ten o'clock at night!” Irene laughed. Baekhyun was probably out somewhere doing something illegal and using college as an excuse. She didn't think her mum would be so gullible to believe that, especially after having four other children.

“Oh, he's a very hard worker when he puts his mind to it, Irene, he's working on some project. I don't know what it is; I don't listen half the time.”

“Mmm,” Irene replied, not believing a word of it.

“Anyway, my future son-in-law is back on television so I must be off,” Elizabeth laughed. “Would you like to come around and join us?”

“Thanks but no, I'm OK here.”

“All right, love, but if you change your mind you know where we are. Bye, dear.” Back to her empty, silent house.

Irene woke up the next morning still fully dressed and lying on her bed. She could feel herself slipping into her old habits again. All her positive thoughts of the past few weeks were melting away bit by bit every day. It was so bloody tiring trying to be happy all the time and she just didn't have the energy anymore. Who cared if the house was a mess? Nobody but her was going to see it, and she certainly didn't care one way or the other. Who cared if she didn't wear makeup or wash for a week? She certainly had no intention of impressing anyone. The only girl she was seeing regularly was the pizza delivery girl, and she had to tip her to make her smile. Who cared? Her phone vibrated beside her, signaling a message. It was from Joy.

CLUB DIVA NO 36700700

THINK BOUT IT. WUD B FUN. DO IT 4 SEULGI?

Seulgi's dead, she felt like texting back. But ever since she had begun opening the envelopes she didn't feel dead to her. It was as though she were just away on holiday and writing her letters, so she wasn't really gone. Well, the very least she could do was call the club and suss out the situation. That didn't mean she had to go through with it.

She dialed the number and a woman answered. She couldn't think of anything to say so she quickly hung up again. Oh, come on, Irene, she told herself, it's really not that difficult, just say a friend is interested in singing.

Irene braced herself and pressed REDIAL.

The same voice answered, “Club Diva.”

“Hi, I was wondering if you do karaoke nights there?”

“Yes we do, they are on a. . . ,” she heard her leafing through some pages, “yeah sorry, they're on a Thursday.”

“Thursday?”

“No sorry, sorry, hold on . . .” She leafed through some pages again. “No, they're on a Tuesday night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, they are definitely on a Tuesday.”

“OK, em, well, I was wondering if, em . . .” Irene took a deep breath and began the sentence again. “My friend might be interested in singing and she was wondering what she would have to do?”

There was a long pause on the other end. “Hello?” Was this person stupid?

“Yeah sorry, I don't actually organize the karaoke nights, so . . .”

“OK.” Irene was losing her temper. It had taken a lot to summon up the courage to actually make the call and some underqualified unhelpful little twit wasn't going to ruin it for her. “Well, is there anyone there who might have a clue?”

“Eh, no, there isn't, the club isn't actually open yet, it's very early in the morning still,” came the sarcastic response.

“Well, thank you very much, you've been a terrific help,” she said, matching her sarcasm. “Excuse me, if you can just bear with me for a moment, I'll try and find out for you.” Irene was put on hold and was forced to listen to “Greensleeves” for the next five minutes.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Barely,” she said angrily.

“OK, I'm very sorry about the delay but I just made a phone call there. What's your friend's name?”

Irene froze, she hadn't planned on this. Well, maybe she could just give her single name and then get “her friend” to call back and cancel if she changed her mind.

“Em, her name is Irene Bae.”

“OK, well, it's actually a karaoke competition on Tuesday nights. It goes on for a month and every week two people out of ten are chosen till the last week of the month, where the six people sing again in the final.”

Irene gulped. She didn't want to do this.

“But unfortunately,” she continued, “the names have all been entered a few months in advance, so you can tell your friend Irene that maybe she could try again at Christmas. That's when the next competition is on.”

“Oh, OK.”

“By the way, the name Irene Bae rings a bell. Would that be Baekhyu Bae's sister?” “Eh, yeah, why, do you know her?” said a shocked Irene.

“I wouldn't say I know her, I just met her briefly here the other night with her brother.”

Was Baekhyun going around and introducing girls as her sister? The sick and twisted little . . . No, that couldn't be right, what on earth?

“Baekhyun played a gig in Club Diva?”

“No no,” she laughed, “she played with his band downstairs in the basement.” Irene quickly tried to digest the information until finally it clicked.

“Is Club Diva in Park's?”

She laughed again, “Yeah, it's on the top floor. Maybe I should advertise a bit more!” “Is that Wendy?” Irene blurted out and then kicked herself for being so stupid.

“Eh, yeah, do I know you?”

“Em, no! No you don't! Irene just mentioned you in conversation, that's all.” Then she realized how that sounded. “Very briefly in conversation,” she added. “She said you gave her a stool.” Irene began hitting her head softly on the wall.

Wendy laughed again. “Oh, OK, well, tell her if she wants to sing in the karaoke at Christmas I can put her name down now for her. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that want to sign up.”

“Really,” Irene said weakly. She felt like a fool.

“Oh, by the way, who am I speaking to?”

Irene paced her bedroom floor. “Em, Joy, you're speaking to Joy.”

“OK, Joy, well, I have your number on caller ID so I'll call you if anyone backs out.” “OK, thanks a lot.”

And she hung up.

And Irene leapt into bed, throwing the duvet over her head as she felt her face going purple with embarrassment. She hid under the covers, cursing herself for being such a bimbo. Ignoring the phone ringing, she tried to convince herself she hadn't been a complete idiot. Eventually, after she had persuaded herself she could show her face in public again (it took a long time), she crawled out of bed and hit the button on her answering machine.

“Hi Joy, I must have just missed you. It's Wendy here from Club Diva.” She paused and then, laughing, added, “In Park's. Em, I was just looking through the list of names in the book and it seems somebody already entered Irene's name a few months back, in fact it's one of the first entries. Unless it's another Irene Bae . . .” He trailed off. “Anyway, call me back when you get a chance so we can sort it out. Thanks.”

Irene sat shocked on the edge of her bed, unable to move for the next few hours.

sorry it took me so long once again, life has still been crazy, i can see that there's some comments.. and i'll gladly make some time to answer them! do any of you have  sugestions in what song irene should sing? :)