"I miss the earth so much, I miss my wife" - Kang Seulgi 

“Irene Bae? ARE YOU HERE?” the karaoke hostess's voice boomed. The crowd's applause died down into a loud chatter as everyone looked around in search of Irene. Well, they would be a long time looking, she thought as she lowered the toilet seat and sat down to wait for the excitement to settle so they could move on to their next victim. She closed her eyes, rested her head on her hands and prayed for this moment to pass. She wanted to open her eyes and be safely at home a week from now. She counted to ten, praying for a miracle, and then slowly opened her eyes again.

She was still in the toilet.

Why couldn't she, at least just this once, suddenly find magical powers? It always happened to the American girls in the films and it just wasn't fair 

Irene had known this would happen; from the moment she opened that envelope and read Seulgi's third letter, she foresaw tears and humiliation. Her nightmare had come true.

Outside, the club sounded very quiet and a sense of calm engulfed her as she realized they were moving on to the next singer. Her shoulders relaxed and she unclenched her fists, her jaw relaxed and air flowed more easily into her lungs. The panic was over, but she decided to wait until the next singer began his song before she made a run for it. She couldn't even climb out the window because she wasn't on the ground floor, well, not unless she wanted to plummet to her own death. Another thing her American friend would be able to do.

Outside the cubicle Irene heard the toilet door open and slam. Uh-oh, they were coming to get her. Whoever they were.

“Irene?”

It was Joy.

“Irene, I know you're in there, so just listen to me, OK?” Irene sniffed back the tears that were beginning to well.

“OK, I know that this is an absolute nightmare for you and I know you have a major phobia about this kind of thing, but you need to relax, OK?”

Joy's voice was so soothing, Irene's shoulders once again relaxed.

“Irene, I hate mice, you know that.”

Irene frowned, wondering where this little pep talk was going.

“And my worst nightmare would be to walk out of here to a room full of mice. Now could you imagine me?”

Irene smiled at the thought and remembered the time when Joy moved in with Seulgi and Irene for two weeks after she had caught a mouse in her house. Moonbyul, of course, was granted conjugal visits.

“Yeah, well I would be right here where you are now and nothing in the whole world would bring me out.”

She paused.

“What?” the DJ's voice said into the microphone and then started laughing, “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that our singer is currently in the toilets.” The entire room erupted in laughter.

“Joy!” Irene's voice trembled in fear. She felt as though the angry crowd were about to break down the door, strip her of her clothes and carry her over their heads to the stage for her execution. Panic took over for the third time. Joy rushed her next sentence. “Anyway, Irene, all I'm saying is that you don't have to do this if you don't want to. Nobody here is forcing you...”

“Ladies and gentlemen, let's let Irene know that she's up next!” yelled the DJ. “Come on!” Everybody began to stamp their feet and chant her name.

“OK, well, at least nobody who cares about you is forcing you to do this,” stammered Joy, now under pressure from the approaching crowd. “But if you don't do this, I know you will never be able to forgive yourself. Seulgi wanted you to do this for a reason.”

“IRENE! IRENE! IRENE!”

“Oh Joy!” Irene repeated again, panicking. Suddenly the walls of the cubicle felt like they were closing in on her; beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She had to get out of there. She burst through the door. Joy's eyes widened at the sight of her distraught friend, who looked like she had just seen a ghostess. Her eyes were red and puffy with black lines of mascara streaming down her face (that waterproof stuff never works) and her tears had washed all her makeup away.

“Don't mind them, Irene,” Joy said coolly, “they can't make you do anything you don't want to do.”

Irene's lower lip began to tremble.

“Don't!” Joy said, gripping her by the shoulders and looking her in the eye. “Don't even think about it!”

Her lip stopped trembling but the rest of her didn't. Finally Irene broke her silence. “I can't sing, Joy,” she whispered, her eyes wide with terror.

“I know that!” Joy said laughing. “And your family knows that! Screw the rest of them! You are never gonna see any of their ugly faces ever again! Who cares what they think? I don't, do you?”

Irene thought about it for a minute. “No,” she whispered.

“I didn't hear you, what did you say? Do you care what they think?” “No,” she said, a little stronger.

“Louder!” Joy shook her by the shoulders. “No!” she yelled.

“Louder!”

“NOOOOOOOOO! I DON'T CARE WHAT THEY THINK!” Irene screamed so loud the crowd began to quiet down outside. Joy looked a little shaken, was probably a little deaf, and stood frozen in her place for a while. The two of them smiled at each other and then began to giggle at their stupidity.

“Just let this be another silly Irene day so we can laugh about it a few months from now,” Joy pleaded with her.

Irene took one last look at her reflection in the mirror, washed away her smudged mascara lines, took a deep breath and charged toward the door like a woman on a mission. She opened the door to her adoring fans, who were all facing it and chanting her name. They all began to cheer when they saw her, so she took an extremely theatrical bow and headed toward the stage to the sound of claps and laughter and a yell from Joy saying,

“Screw them!”

Irene had everybody's attention now whether she liked it or not. If she hadn't run into the toilet, the people who were chatting down the back of the club probably wouldn't have noticed her singing, but now she had attracted even more attention.

She stood with her arms folded on the stage and stared at the audience in shock.

There was complete silence. Irene cleared and the sound echoed around the room. Irene stared down at Yeri and Joy for help and her whole table held their thumbs up at her. Ordinarily Irene would have laughed at how corny they all looked, but right then it was strangely comforting.

“Moonbyul?” Irene said into the mic, bringing the attention of Seulgi’s friend to her (and from everyone in the room), Moonbyul raised an eyebrow waiting for her to continue “Do you remember Seulgi’s song?” Everyone on the table looked shock. Seulgi had a song.

When Irene and Seulgi were in their senior year, Seulgi used to be addicted to Elton John’s songs, and she used to sing all the time, at first would annoy the hell out of Irene, but as the years gone by, Irene learned to love her wife’s voice singing that particular song, especially when she would have trouble sleeping, and Seulgi’s sweet voice would calm her nerves, until she succumbed to sleep. Even on Seulgi’s final days, she insisted to sing, ignoring Irene’s protests, she would stumble on the words, and take too much time to finish the song, but still, she was there. The first days without Seulgi, Irene would try to sing that same song to maybe have some sleep, but nothing could replace Seulgi’s voice. And Irene would just fall sleep exhausted from her tears.

Moonbyul stepped on the stage and sat on the piano’s chair, her fingers were automatically working through the tiles, Irene stared at her family for a moment, and everyone still had their thumbs up.

“She packed my bags last night pre-flight” Everyone was staring at her, and she felt her lungs be filled with anxiety instead of air “zero hour nine am” She closed her eyes remembering how Seulgi used to sing that same song to her, inside of Seulgi's car back in high school until her final days with a rough voice “and I’m gonna be high as a kite by then”

Irene opened her eyes and she saw everything she wanted to see these past months. Seulgi. Seulgi was there, sitting alone in a table right in front of the stage with her legs crossed, wearing her favorite sweater and that smile who got Irene head over heels for her, and there wasn’t a single soul around them. It was only her and her Seulgi.

“I miss the earth so much, I miss my wife” Irene felt a lonely tear come down her cheek as she stared at Seulgi, who mounthed “I miss you too” for her. Irene continued to stare at Seulgi, she couldn’t get her eyes off her, afraid of her going away, again. “It’s lonely out in space, on such a timeless flight” Her tears were running freely as she continued to stare at Seulgi.

“and I think it’s going to be a long long time, I’m not the man they think I am at home” Seulgi got up from her chair and walked slowly at Irene’s who was crying freely, but still singing with a shake voice “I’m a rocket man” Seulgi embraced her in a tight hug and Irene felt peace running through her veins “Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone”

“I’m proud of you, Irene” she heard Seulgi’s voice.

She opened her eyes and everyone was there again, except for Seulgi, the crowd applauded and her family even screamed. She stepped off the stage with Moonbyul behind.

The DJ took the microphone from her hand and managed to say, "Wow that was emotional" Silence “Please give it up for the Irene Bae!” This time her family and friends were the only people to cheer. Yeri and Joy approached her with cheeks wet from tears.

“I'm so proud of you!” Joy said, throwing her arms around Irene's neck. “It was so emotional!” “Thanks for helping me, Joy,” she said as she hugged her friend.

Baekhyun waved at her from across the room with a camera in his hand and gave her the thumbs-up. Irene hid in the corner at the table and sipped on her water while she listened to everyone congratulating her on being so brave. Irene couldn't remember the last time she had felt so proud.

Moonbyul shuffled over to Irene and leaned against the wall beside her, where she watched the next act onstage in silence. Eventually she plucked up the courage to speak and said, “Seulgi's probably here, you know,” and looked at her with watery eyes.

Poor Moonbyul, she missed her best friend too. She gave her an encouraging smile and looked around the room. She was right. Irene could feel Seulgi's presence. She could feel her wrapping her arms around her and giving her one of the hugs she missed so much.

After an hour the singers had finally finished and Wendy and the DJ headed off to tot up the votes. Everyone had been handed a voting slip as they paid at the door and Irene couldn't bring it upon herself to write her own name down, so she gave her slip to Joy. It was pretty obvious that Irene wasn't going to win, but that had never been her intention. And on the off chance that she did win, she shuddered at the thought of having to return in two weeks' time to repeat the whole experience. She hadn't learned a thing from it, only that she hated karaoke even more. Last year's winner, Keith, had brought along at least thirty of his friends, which meant that he was a sure winner, and Irene doubted very much that her “adoring fans” in the crowd would vote for her.

The DJ played a pathetic CD of a drumroll as the winners were about to be announced. Wendy took to the stage once again in her black leather jacket and black slacks uniform and was greeted by wolf whistles and screams from the girls. Worryingly, the loudest of these girls was Seohyun. Changmin looked excited and crossed his fingers at Irene. A very sweet but incredibly naïve gesture, she thought; he obviously didn't understand the “rules” properly.

There was a bit of embarrassment as the drumroll began to skip and the DJ rushed over to his equipment to shut it down. The winners were announced undramatically, in dead silence. “OK, I'd like to thank everyone for taking part in tonight's competition, you provided us all with some terrific entertainment. “OK, so the two people that will be going through to the final are,” Wendy paused for dramatic effect, “Keith and Samantha!”

Irene jumped up with excitement and danced around in a huddle with Yeri and Joy. She had never felt such relief in her life. Changmin looked on very confused, and the rest of Irene's family congratulated her on her victorious loss.

“I voted for the blond one,” Baekhyun announced with disappointment.

“That's just because she had big ,” Irene laughed.

“Well, we all have our own individual talents,” Baekhyun agreed.

Irene wondered what hers were as she sat back down. It must be a wonderful feeling to win something, to know that you have a talent. Irene had never won anything in her life; she didn't play any sports, couldn't play an instrument, now that she thought about it, she didn't have any hobbies or special interests. What would she put down on her CV when she eventually got around to applying for a job? “I like to drink and shop” wouldn't go down very well. She sipped her drink thoughtfully. Irene had lived her life being interested only in Seulgi; in fact, everything she did revolved around her. In a way, being her wife was all she was good at; being her partner was all she knew. Now what did she have? No job, no wife and she couldn't even sing in a karaoke competition properly, never mind win it.

Joy and Moonbyul seemed engrossed in a heated discussion, Yuju and Suho were gazing into each other's eyes like love-struck teenagers as usual, Seohyun was snuggling up to Wendy, and Yeri was . . . Actually, where was Yeri?

Irene looked around the club and spotted her sitting on the stage swinging her legs and striking a very provocative pose for the karaoke hostess. Irene's parents had left hand in hand just after her name wasn't announced as a winner, which left . . . Changmin. Changmin sat squashed beside Seohyun and Wendy, looking around the room like a lost puppy and taking a sip from his drink every few seconds out of paranoia. Irene realized she must have looked like him . . . a complete loser. But at least this loser had a wife and two children to go home to, unlike Irene, who had a date with a microwave dinner.

Irene moved over and sat on the high stool opposite Changmin and struck up a conversation. “You enjoying yourself?”

He looked up from his drink, startled that someone had spoken to him. “Yes, thank you, I'm having fun, Irene.”

If that was him having fun Irene dreaded to think what he looked like when he wasn't.

“I'm surprised you came, actually, I didn't think this would be your scene.” “Oh, you know . . . you have to support the family.” He stirred his drink. “So where's Juhee tonight?”

“Emily and Timothy,” he said, as if that explained it all. “You working Tomorrow?”

“Yes,” he said suddenly, knocking back his drink, “so I best be off. You were a great tonight, Irene.” He looked around awkwardly at his family, debating whether to interrupt them and say good-bye but eventually deciding against it. He nodded to Irene and off he went, maneuvering his way through the thick crowd.

Irene was once again alone. As much as she wanted to grab her bag and run home, she knew she should sit this one out. There would be plenty of times in the future when she would be alone like this, the only singleton in the company of couples, and she needed to adapt. She felt awful, though, and she also felt angry with the others who didn't even notice her. Then she cursed herself for being so childish, she couldn't have asked for more supportive friends and family. Irene wondered whether this had been Seulgi's intention. Did she think that this situation was what she needed? Did she think that this would help her? Perhaps she was right, because she was certainly being tested. It was forcing her to become braver in more ways than one. She had stood on a stage and sung to hundreds of people, and now she was stuck in a situation where she was surrounded by couples. They were all around her. Whatever her plan was, she was being forced to become braver without her. Just sit it out, she told herself.

Irene smiled as she watched her sister nattering away to Wendy. Seohyun was nothing like her at all, she was so carefree and confident and never seemed to worry about anything. For as long as Irene could remember, Seohyun had never managed to hold down a job or a boyfriend, or girlfriend her brain was always somewhere else, lost in the dream of visiting another far-off country. Irene wished she could be more like her, but she was such a home-bird and could never imagine herself moving away from her family and friends and leaving the life she had made for herself here. At least she could never leave the life she once had.

She turned her attention to Suho, who was still lost in a world with Yuju. She even wished she could be more like him; he absolutely loved his job as a secondary school teacher. He was the cool English teacher that all the teenagers respected, and whenever Irene and Suho passed one of his students on the street they always greeted him with a big smile and a “Hi, sir!” All the girls fancied him and all the boys wanted to be like him when they got older. Irene sighed loudly and drained her drink. Now she was bored.

Wendy looked over. “Irene, can I get you a drink?”

“Ah no, it's OK, thanks, Wendy, I'm heading home soon anyway.”

“Ah Rene!” protested Seohyun. “You can't go home so early! It's your night!”

Irene didn't feel like it was her night. She felt like she had gate-crashed a party and didn't know anyone there.

“No, I'm all right, thanks,” she assured Wendy again.

“No, you're staying,” Seohyun insisted. “Get her a vodka and Coke and I'll have the same again,” she ordered Wendy.

“Seohyun!” Irene exclaimed, embarrassed at her sister's rudeness.

“No, it's OK!” Wendy assured her. “I asked,” and she headed off to the bar. “Seohyun, that was so rude,” Irene gave out to her sister.

“What? It's not like she has to pay for it, she owns the place,” she said defensively. “That still doesn't mean you can go around demanding free drinks . . .”

“Where's Changmin?” Seohyun interrupted. “Gone home.”

“! How long ago?” She jumped down from her seat in a panic. “I dunno, about five or ten minutes. Why?”

“He's supposed to be driving me home!” She threw everyone's coats into a pile on the floor while she rooted around for her bag.

“Seohyun, you'll never catch him now, he's gone far too long.”

“No, I will. He's parked ages away and he'll have to drive back down this road to get home. I'll get him while he's passing.” She finally found her bag and legged it out the door yelling, “Bye, Irene! Well done, you were e!” and disappeared out the door.

Irene was once again alone. Great, she thought, watching Wendy carrying the drinks back to the table, now she was stuck talking to her all by herself.

“Where's Seohyun gone?” Wendy asked, placing the drinks on the table and sitting down opposite Irene.

“Oh, she said to say she's really sorry but she had to chase my brother for a lift.” Irene bit her lip guiltily, knowing full well that Seohyun hadn't even given Wendy a second thought as she raced out the door. “Sorry for being so rude to you earlier as well.” Then she started laughing, “God, you must think we're the rudest family in the world. Seohyun's a bit of a motormouth; she doesn't mean what she says half the time.”

“And you did?” she smiled.

“At the time, yes,” she laughed again.

“Hey, it's fine, just means there's more drink for you,” she said, sliding the shot glass across the table to her.

“Ugh, what is this?” Irene wrinkled her nose up at the smell.

Wendy looked away awkwardly and cleared . “I can't remember.”

“Oh, come on!” Irene laughed. “You just ordered it! It's a woman's right to know what she's drinking, you know!”

Wendy looked at her with a smile on her face. “It's called a BJ. You should have seen the barman's face when I asked for one. I don't think he knew it was a shot!”

“Oh, God,” Irene said. “What's Seohyun doing drinking this? It smells awful!”

“She said she found it easy to swallow.” She started laughing again.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Wendy, she really is ridiculous sometimes.” Irene shook her head over her sister.

Wendy stared past Irene's shoulder with amusement. “Well, it looks like your friend is having a good night anyway.”

Irene swirled around and saw Yeri and the DJ wrapped around each other beside the stage. Her provocative poses had obviously worked.

“Oh no, not the horrible DJ who forced me to come out of the toilet,” Irene groaned.

“That's Kim Saeron from Kick FM,” Wendy said. “She's a friend of mine.” Irene covered her face in embarrassment.

“She's working here tonight because the karaoke went out live on the radio,” she said seriously.

“What?” Irene nearly had a heart attack for the twentieth time that night.

Wendy's face broke into a smile. “Only joking; just wanted to see the look on your face.”

“Oh my God, don't do that to me,” Irene said, putting her hand on her heart. “Having the people in here hear me was bad enough, never mind the entire city as well.” She waited for her heart to stop pounding while Wendy stared at her with an amused look in his eye.

“If you don't mind me asking, if you hate it so much, why did you enter?” she asked carefully.

“Oh, my hilarious wife thought it would be funny to enter her tone-deaf wife into a singing competition.”

Wendy laughed. “You weren't that bad! Is your wife here?” she asked, looking around. “I don't want her thinking I'm trying to poison her wife with that awful concoction.” She nodded toward the shot glass.

Irene looked around the club and smiled. “Yeah, she's definitely here . . . somewhere.”

***

Irene secured her bedsheet onto the washing line with a peg and thought about how she had bumbled around for the remainder of May trying to get her life into some sort of order. Days went by when she felt so happy and content and confident that her life would be OK, and then as quickly as the feeling came it would disappear again, and she would feel her sadness setting in once more. She tried to find a routine she could happily fall into so that she felt like she belonged in her body and her body belonged in this life, instead of wandering around like a zombie watching everybody else live theirs while she waited around for hers to end. Unfortunately the routine hadn't turned out exactly as she hoped it would. She found herself immobile for hours in the sitting room, reliving every single memory that she and Seulgi had shared. Sadly, she spent most of that time thinking about every argument they had had, wishing she could take them back, wishing she could take back every horrible word she had ever said to her. She prayed that Seulgi had known her words had only been spoken out of anger and that they had not reflected her true feelings. She tortured herself for the times she had acted selfishly, going out with her friends for the night when she was mad at her instead of staying home with her. She chastised herself for walking away from her when she should have hugged her, when she held grudges for days instead of forgiving her, when she went straight to sleep some nights instead of making love to her. She wanted to take back every moment she knew she had been so angry with her and hated her. She wished all her memories could be of the good times, but the bad times kept coming back to haunt her. They had all been such a waste of time. And nobody had told them that they were short on time.

Then there were her happy days, when she would walk around in a daydream with nothing but a smile on her face, catching herself giggling as she walked down the street when a joke of theirs would suddenly pop into her head. That was her routine. She would fall into days of deep dark depression, then finally build up the strength to be positive and to snap out of it for another few days. But the tiniest and simplest thing would trigger off her tears again. It was a tiring process, and most of the time she couldn't be bothered battling with her mind. It was far stronger than any muscle in her body.

Friends and family came and went, sometimes helping her with her tears, other times making her laugh. But even in her laughter there was something missing. She never seemed to be truly happy; she just seemed to be passing time while she waited for something else. She was tired of just existing; she wanted to live. But what was the point in living when there was no life in it? These questions went through her mind over and over until she reached the point of not wanting to wake up from her dreams–they were what felt real.

Deep down, she knew it was normal to feel like this, she didn't particularly think she was losing her mind. She knew that people said that one day she would be happy again and that this feeling would just be a distant memory. It was getting to that day that was the hard part.

She read and reread Seulgi's original letter over and over, analyzing each word and each sentence, and each day she came up with a new meaning. But she could sit there till the cows came home trying to read between the lines and guess the hidden message. The fact was that she would never really know exactly what she meant because she would never speak to her ever again. It was this thought that she had the most difficulty trying to come to terms with, and it was killing her.

Now May had gone and June had arrived, bringing bright long evenings and the beautiful mornings that came with them. And with these bright sunny days June brought clarity. There was no hiding indoors as soon as it got dark, and there were no lie-ins until the afternoon. It seemed as though the whole country had come out of hibernation, taken a big stretch and a yawn and suddenly started living again. It was time to open all the windows and air the house, to free it of the ghostesss of the winter and dark days, it was time to get up early with the songbirds and go for a walk and look people in the eye and smile and say hello instead of hiding under layers of clothes with eyes to the ground while running from destination to destination and ignoring the world. It was time to stop hiding in the dark and to hold your head up high and come face-to-face with the truth.

June also brought another letter from Seulgi.

Irene had sat out in the sun, reveling in the new brightness of life, and nervously yet excitedly read the fourth letter. She loved the feel of the card and the bumps of Seulgi's handwriting under her finger as it ran over the dried ink. Inside, her neat handwriting had listed the items that belonged to her that remained in the house, and beside each of her possessions she explained what she wanted Irene to do with them and where she wished for them to be sent. At the bottom it read:

"PS, I love you, Irene, and I know you love me. You don't need my belongings to remember me by, you don't need to keep them as proof that I existed or still exist in your mind. You don't need to wear my sweater to feel me around you; I'm already there . . . always wrapping my arms around you."

That had been difficult for Irene to come to terms with. She almost wished she would ask her to do karaoke again. She would have jumped from an airplane for her; run a thousand miles, anything except empty out her wardrobes and rid herself of her presence in the house. But she was right and she knew it. She couldn't hang on to her belongings forever. She couldn't pretend to herself that she was coming back to collect them. The physical Seulgi was gone; she didn't need her clothes.

It was an emotionally draining experience. It took her days to complete. She relived a million memories with every garment and piece of paper she bagged. She held each item near to her before saying good-bye. Every time an item left her fingers it was like saying good-bye to a part of Seulgi all over again. It was difficult; so difficult and at times too difficult.

She informed her family and friends of what she was about to do, and although they all offered their assistance and support time and again, Irene knew she had to do this alone. She needed to take her time. Say a proper good-bye because she wouldn't be getting anything back. Just like Seulgi, her belongings couldn't return. Despite Irene's wishes of wanting to be alone, Suho had called around a few times to offer some brotherly support and Irene had appreciated it. Every item had a history and they would talk and laugh about the memories surrounding it. She was there for her when she cried and she was there when she finally clapped her hands together, ridding her skin of the dust that remained. It was a difficult job but one that needed to be done. And one that was made easier by Seulgi's help. Irene didn't need to worry about making all the big decisions, Seulgi had already made them for her. Seulgi was helping her, and for once, Irene felt like she was helping her too.

She laughed as she bagged the dusty cassettes of her favorite rock band from her school days. At least once a year Seulgi came across the old shoe box during her efforts to control the mess that grew inside her closet. She would blast the heavy metal music from every speaker in the house to torment Irene with its screeching guitars and badly produced sound quality. She always told her she couldn't wait to see the end of those tapes. The relief didn't wash over her as she once hoped it would.

Her eyes rested upon a crumpled ball lying in the back corner of the wardrobe–Seulgi's lucky football jersey. It was still covered in grass and mud stains, fresh from its last victorious day on the pitch. She held it close to her and inhaled deeply; the smell of beer and sweat was faint, but still there. She put it aside to be washed and passed on to Moonbyul.

So many objects, so many memories. Each was being labeled and packed away in bags just as it was in her mind. To be stored in an area that would sometime be called upon to teach and help in future life. Objects that were once so full of life and importance but that now lay limp on the floor. Without her they were just things.

Seulgi's wedding dress, her suits, shirts and skirts that she would moan about having to wear every morning before going to work. The fashions of the years gone by, eighties shiny suits and shell tracksuits bundled away. A snorkel from their first time scuba diving, a shell that she picked from the ocean floor ten years ago, her collection of beer mats from every pub in every country they had visited. Letters and birthday cards from friends and family sent to her over the years. Valentine's Day cards from Irene. Childhood teddies and dolls put aside to be sent back to her parents. Records of bills, her golf clubs for Moonbyul, books for Joy, memories, tears and laughter for Irene.

Her entire life bundled into twenty refuse sacks.

Seulgi and her memories bundled away into Irene's mind.

Each item unearthed dust, tears, laughter and memories. She bagged the items, cleared the dust, wiped her eyes and filed away the memories.

Irene's mobile began to ring and she dropped the laundry basket onto the grass under the washing line and ran through the patio doors into the kitchen to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“I'm gonna make you a star!” Baekhyun's voice screeched hysterically on the other end and he broke into uncontrollable laughter.

Irene waited for him to calm down while she searched her brain and tried to figure out what he could be talking about. “Baekhyun, are you drunk?”

“Maybe jus a li'l bit, but that's completely irrevelant,” he hiccuped.

“Baekhyun, it's ten o'clock in the morning!” Irene laughed. “Have you been to bed yet?”

“Nope,” he hiccuped again, “I'm on the train home now and will be in bed in 'proximately three hours.”

“Three hours! Where are you?” Irene laughed again. She was enjoying this, as it reminded her of when she used to call Suho at all hours of the morning from all sorts of locations after misbehaving on a night out.

“I'm in somewhere far away from the city. The awards were on last night,” he said, as if she should know.

“Oh, sorry for my ignorance, but what awards were you at?” “I told you!”

“No you didn't.”

“I told Suho to tell you, the bastard–” He stumbled over his words. “Well, he didn't,” she interrupted him, “so now you can tell me.”

“The student media awards were on last night and I won!” he yelled, and Irene heard what sounded like the entire carriage celebrating with him. She was delighted for him.

“And the prize is that it's gonna be aired on Channel 4 next week! Can you believe it!” There were more cheers this time and Irene could barely make out what he was saying. “You're gonna be famous, sis!” was the last thing she heard before the line went dead. What was this odd feeling she detected running through her body? Was it . . . no it couldn't . . . could it be that Irene was experiencing a sensation of happiness?

She rang around her family to share the good news but learned that they had all received a similar phone call. Seohyun had stayed on the phone for ages chattering like an excited schoolgirl about how they were going to be on TV, and eventually her story ended with her marrying Denzel Washington. It was decided that the family would gather in Hogan's pub next Wednesday to watch the documentary being aired. Wendy had kindly offered Club Diva as the venue so they could watch it on the big wall screen. Irene was excited for her brother and rang Joy and Yeri to let them know the good news.

“Oh, this is great news, Irene!” Joy whispered excitedly.

“Why are you whispering?” Irene whispered back.

“Oh, old wrinkly face here decided it would be a great idea to ban us from accepting personal calls,” moaned Joy, referring to her boss. “She says we spend more time chatting on the phone to friends than doing business, so she's been patrolling our desks all morning. I swear I feel like I'm back at school again with the old hag keeping her eye on us.” Suddenly she spoke up and became businesslike. “May I take your details please?”

Irene laughed. “Is she there?”

“Yes absolutely,” Joy continued.

“OK, well, I won't keep you very long then. The details are that we're all meeting up in Son's on Wednesday night to watch it, so you're welcome to come.”

“That's great . . . OK.” Joy pretended to take her details.

“Brilliant, we'll have fun. Joy, what will I wear?” “Hmm . . . brand-new or secondhand?”

“No, I really can't afford anything new; even though you forced me to buy that top a few weeks ago, I'm refusing to wear it on the grounds that I am no longer eighteen. So probably something old.”

“OK . . . red.”

“The red top I wore to your birthday?” “Yes, exactly.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“What's your current state of employment?”

“To be honest I haven't even started looking yet.” Irene chewed the inside of and frowned.

“And date of birth?”

“Ha-ha, shut up, you ,” Irene laughed.

“I'm sorry, we only give motor insurance to ages twenty-four and older. You're too young, I'm afraid.”

“I wish. OK, I'll speak to you later.”

“Thank you for calling.”

Irene sat at the kitchen table wondering what she should wear next week; she wanted something new. She wanted to look y and gorgeous for a change, and she was sick of all her old clothes. Maybe Yeri had something in her shop. She was about to call when she received a text message from Joy.

HAG RITE BHIND ME

TLK 2 U L8R XXX

Irene picked up the phone and called Yeri at work. “Hello, 'Casuals,' ” answered a very polite Yeri.

“Hello, Casuals, Irene here. I know I'm not supposed to call you at work but I just wanted to tell you that Baekhyun's documentary won some student award thingy and it's gonna be aired on Wednesday night.”

“Oh, that's so cool, Irene! Are we gonna be in it?” she asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I think so. So we're all meeting up at Son’s to watch it that night. You up for that?” “Oooh, of course! I can bring my new girlfriend too,” she giggled.

“What new girlfriend?” “Saeron!”

“The karaoke girl?” Irene asked in shock.

“Yeah, of course! Oh Irene, I'm so in love!” she giggled childishly again. “In love? But you only met her a few weeks ago!”

“Oh I don't care; it only takes a minute . . . as the saying goes.” “Wow, Yeri . . . I don't know what to say!”

“Tell me how great it is!”

“Yeah . . . wow . . . I mean . . . of course . . . it's really great news.”

“Oh, try not to sound too enthusiastic, Irene,” she said sarcastically. “Anyway, I can't wait for you to meet her, you'll absolutely love her. Well, not as much as I do, but you'll certainly really really like her.” She rambled on about how great she was.

“Yeri, are you forgetting that I met her already?” Irene interrupted her in the middle of a story about how Saeron had saved a child from drowning.

“Yeah, I know you have, but I would rather you meet her when you're not acting like a demented woman hiding in toilets and shouting into microphones.”

“Look forward to it then . . .”

“Yeah, cool, it's gonna be great! I've never been to my own premiere before!” she said excitedly.

Irene rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics and they said their good-byes.

Irene barely got any housework done that morning, as she spent most of the time talking on the phone. Her mobile was burning and it was giving her a headache. She shuddered at the thought. Every time she had a headache it reminded her of Seulgi. She hated to hear her loved ones complaining of headaches and migraines and would immediately launch herself at them, warning them of the dangers and how they should take it more seriously and go see their doctors. She ended up petrifying everyone with her stories and they eventually stopped telling her when they felt ill.

She sighed loudly; she was turning into such a hypochondriac even her doctor was sick of the sight of her. She went running to her in a panic over the tiniest little things, if she had a pain in her leg or a cramp in her stomach. Last week she was convinced there was something wrong with her feet; her toes just didn't look quite right. Her doctor had examined them seriously and then had immediately started to scribble her prescription down on a slip of paper while Irene watched in terror. Eventually she handed her the piece of paper, and scrawled messily in that handwriting only doctors can perfect, was: “Buy bigger shoes.”

It may have been funny, but it cost her forty bucks.

Irene had spent the last few minutes on the phone listening to Suho ranting and raving about Changmin. Changmin had paid him a little visit, too. Irene wondered whether he was just trying to bond with his siblings after years of hiding from them. Well, it was too little too late for most of them, it seemed. It was certainly very difficult trying to hold a conversation with someone who hadn't yet mastered the art of politeness. Oh, stop stop stop! she silently screamed to herself. She needed to stop worrying, stop thinking, stop making her brain go on overdrive, and she certainly needed to stop talking to herself. She was driving herself crazy.

She finally finished hanging out the washing more than two hours later and added another load into the machine and turned it on. She switched the radio on in the kitchen and blared the television from the living room and went back to work. Perhaps that would drown out the whinging little voice in her head.

***

Irene arrived at Son's pushed her way through the old men in the pub to make her way upstairs to Club Diva. The traditional band was in full swing and the crowd was joining in on all their favorite Irish songs. It was only seven-thirty, so Club Diva wasn't officially open yet. Looking around at the empty club, Irene saw a completely different venue from the one she had been so terrified in a few weeks earlier. She was the first to arrive and settled herself at a table right in front of the big screen so she would have a perfect view of her brother's documentary, not that the place would be so crowded that anyone would stand in her way.

A smashing glass over by the bar made her jump and she looked up to see who had joined her in the room. Wendy emerged from behind the bar with a dustpan and brush in her hand. “Oh, hi, Irene, I didn't realize anyone had come in.” She stared at her in surprise.

“It's just me, I came early for a change.” She walked over to the bar to greet her. She looked different tonight, she thought, inspecting her.

“God, you're really early,” she said, looking at her watch, “the others probably won't be here for another hour or so.”

Irene looked confused and glanced at her watch. “But it's seven-thirty, the show starts at eight, doesn't it?”

Wendy looked confused, “No, I was told nine o'clock, but I could be wrong . . .” She reached for that day's paper and looked at the TV page. “Yep, nine o'clock, Channel 4.”

Irene rolled her eyes. “Oh no, I'm sorry, I'll wander around town for a bit and come back later so,” she said, hopping off her stool.

“Hey, don't be silly.” She flashed her pearly whites teeth “The shops are all closed by now and you can keep me company, that's if you don't mind . . .”

“Well, I don't mind if you don't mind . . .”

“I don't mind,” she said firmly.

“Well then, I'll stay so,” she said, happily hopping back onto her stool again. Wendy leaned her hands against the taps in a typical barman's pose. “So now that that's settled, what can I get you?” she said, smiling.

“Well, this is great, no queuing or shouting my order across the bar or anything,” she joked. “I'll have a sparkling water, please.”

“Nothing stronger?” She raised her eyebrows. Her smile was infectious; it seemed to reach from ear to ear.

“No, I better not or I'll be drunk by the time everyone gets here.”

“Good thinking,” she agreed and reached behind her to the fridge to retrieve the bottled water. Irene realized what it was that made her look so different; she wasn't wearing her trademark black. She was wearing faded blue jeans and an open light blue shirt with a white T-shirt underneath. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up to just below herr elbows. Irene could see her muscles through the light fabric. She quickly averted her eyes as she slid the glass toward her.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked her.

“No thanks, I'll take care of this one.”

“No, please,” Irene insisted. “You've bought me plenty of drinks, it's my turn.”

“OK, I'll have a Budweiser then, thanks.” She leaned against the bar and continued to stare at her.

“What? Do you want me to get it?” Irene laughed, jumping off her stool and walking around the bar. Wendy stood back and watched her with amusement.

“I always wanted to work behind a bar when I was a kid,” she said, grabbing a pint glass and pulling down on the tap. She was enjoying herself.

“Well, there's a spare job if you're looking for one,” Wendy said, watching her work closely.

“No thanks, I think I do a better job on the other side of the bar,” she laughed, filling the pint glass.

“Mmm . . . well, if you're ever looking for a job, you know where to come,” Wendy said after taking a gulp of her pint. “You did a good job.”

“Well, it's not exactly brain surgery,” she smiled, bouncing across to the other side of the bar. She took out her purse and handed Wendy money. “Keep the change,” she laughed.

“Thanks,” she smiled, turning to open the cash register, and Irene scorned herself for checking out her bum. It was nice, though, firm but not as nice as Seulgi's, she decided.

“Has your wife deserted you again tonight?” she teased, walking around the bar to join her. Irene bit her lip and wondered how to answer her. Now wasn't really the time to talk about something so depressing to someone who was only making chitchat, but she didn't want the poor woman to keep asking her every time she saw her. She would soon realize the truth, which would cause her even more embarrassment.

“Wendy,” she said softly, “I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but my wife passed away.”

Wendy stopped in her tracks and her cheeks blushed slightly. “Oh Irene, I'm sorry, I didn't know,” she said sincerely.

“It's OK, I know you didn't.” She smiled to show her it was all right.

“Well, I didn't meet her the other night, but if someone had told me, I would have gone to the funeral to pay my respects.” She sat beside her at the bar.

“Oh no, Seulgi died in February, Wendy, she wasn't here the other night.”

Wendy looked confused. “But I thought you told me she was here . . .” She trailed off, thinking she had misheard.

“Oh yeah.” Irene looked down at her feet with embarrassment. “Well, she wasn't here,” she said, looking around the club, “but she was here,” she put her hand on her heart.

“Ah, I see,” she said, finally understanding. “Well then, you were even braver the other night than I thought, considering the circumstances,” she said gently. Irene was surprised by how at ease she seemed. Usually people stuttered and stammered their way through a sentence and either wandered off or changed the subject. She felt relaxed in her presence, though, as if she could talk openly without fear of crying. Irene smiled, shaking her head, and briefly explained the story of the list.

“So that's why I ran off after Baekhyun's gig that time,” Irene laughed.

“It wasn't because they were so terrible by any chance?” Wendy joked, then he looked lost in thought. “Ah yes, that's right, that was the thirtieth of April.”

“Yeah, I couldn't wait any longer to open it,” Irene explained.

“Hmmm . . . when's the next one?” “July,” she said excitedly.

“So I won't be seeing you on the thirtieth of June then,” she said dryly. “Now you're getting the gist,” she laughed.

“I have arrived!” announced Yeri to the empty room as she swanned in, dolled up to the nines in the dress she had worn to the ball last year. Saeron strolled in behind her, laughing and refusing to take her eyes off her.

“God, you're dressed up,” Irene remarked, staring her friend up and down. In the end Irene had decided to just wear a pair of jeans, black boots and a very simple black top. She hadn't been in the mood to get all dressed up after all, especially as they were only sitting in an empty club, but Yeri hadn't quite grasped that concept.

“Well, it's not every day I get to go to my own premiere, is it?” she joked.

Saeron and Wendy greeted each other with hugs. “Baby, this is Wendy, my best friend,” Saeron said, introducing Yeri to Wendy. Wendy and Irene raised their eyebrows at each other and smiled, both registering the use of the word “baby.”

“Hi, Saeron.” Irene shook her hand after Yeri had introduced her and he kissed her on the cheek. “I'm sorry about the last time I met you, I wasn't feeling very sane that night.” Irene blushed at the memory of the karaoke.

“Oh, that's no problem,” Saeron smiled kindly. “If you hadn't entered then I wouldn't have met Yeri, so I'm glad you did,” she added, turning to face Yeri. Wendy and Irene shared a mutually pleased look for their friends, and Irene settled down on her stool feeling very comfortable with these two new women.

After a while Irene discovered she was enjoying herself; she wasn't just pretending to laugh or finding things mildly amusing, she was genuinely happy. The thought of that made her even happier, as did the knowledge that Yeri had finally found someone she really loved.

Minutes later the rest of the Bae family arrived, along with Joy and Moonbyul. Irene ran down to greet her friends. “Hi, Rene” Joy said, giving her a hug. “You here long?”

Irene started laughing. “I thought it was on at eight o'clock so I came at half seven.”

“Oh no.” Joy looked worried.

“Oh, don't worry, it was fine. Wendy kept me company,” she said, pointing over to her.

“Her?” Moonbyul said angrily, “Watch yourself with her, Irene, she's a bit of an oddball. You should have heard the stuff she was saying to Joy the other night.”

Irene giggled to herself and quickly excused herself from their company to join her family. “Juhee not with you tonight?” she boldly asked Changmin.

“No, she's not,” he snapped back rudely and headed over to the bar.

“Why does he bother coming to these things at all?” she moaned to Suho while he held her head to his chest and rubbed her hair, playfully consoling her.

“OK, everyone!” Baekhyun stood on a stool and announced to the group, “Because Seohyun couldn't decide what to wear tonight, we're all late and my documentary is about to start any minute. So if you can just all shut up and sit down that would be great.”

“Oh, Baekhyun.” Irene's mother admonished him for his rudeness.

Irene searched around the room for Seohyun and spotted her glued to Wendy's side at the bar. She laughed to herself and settled down to watch the documentary. As soon as the announcer introduced it, everybody cheered, but they were quickly hushed by an angry Baekhyun, who didn't want them to miss a thing.

The words “Girls and the City” appeared over a beautiful nighttime shot the city, and Irene became nervous. The words “The Girls” appeared over a black screen and was followed by a shot of Joy, Yeri, Yuju and Seohyun all squashed beside each other in the back of a taxi. Joy was speaking:

“Hello! I'm Joy and this is Yuju, Yeri and Seohyun.”

Each of the girls posed for their close-up as they were introduced.

“And we're heading to our best friend Irene's house because it's her birthday today . . .”

The scene changed to the girls surprising Irene with shouts of “Happy Birthday” at her front door. It returned to Joy in the taxi.

“Tonight it's gonna be just us girls . . .”

The scene switched to Irene opening the presents and holding the up to the camera and saying, “Well, I'll definitely need this!” Then it returned to Joy in the taxi saying:

“We are gonna do lots and lots of drinking . . .”

Now Irene was popping open the champagne, then the girls were knocking back shots in Boudoir, and eventually it showed Irene with the crooked tiara on her head, drinking out of a champagne bottle with a straw.

“We are gonna go clubbing . . .”

There was then a shot of the girls in Boudoir doing some very embarrassing moves on the dance floor. Joy was shown next, speaking sincerely.

“But nothing too mad! We're gonna be good girls tonight!”

The next scene showed the girls protesting wildly as they were escorted out of the club by three bouncers.

Irene's jaw dropped open and she stared in shock over at Joy, who was equally surprised. The others just laughed their hearts out and slapped Baekhyun on the back, congratulating her for exposing their partners. Irene, Joy, Yeri, Yuju and even Seohyun slithered down in their seats with humiliation.

What on earth had Baekhyun done?

att notes: ok that was big chap right, folks? enjoy it and see ya next time :D 

oh and i kinda writing a comedy fic... check it out, please? and seulgi is very much alive in this one: fic link