. smile please [3]

let's breakaway
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[ Three ]

 

TaeHyung was absent from the café the next couple of days – not that I was looking for him. Nor did he text… And I wasn’t going to be the one to do it first, either. There was nothing to say, not really. 

Then it was weekend. I spent it sorting my clothes, creating makeshift storage out of boxes and organising my shoes into a reasonable order. Then I began to find myself becoming fixated with social media, spending too much more time watching my old friends in the Bahamas, wondering what they were saying about me. It was unhealthy. I once again debated deleting social media altogether before deciding something different.

I created a whole new account under my Korean name and began posting the pictures I’d taken of my sight seeing around Seoul. The first was the picture of the café, even though TaeHyung’s arm took up most of the shot. I snorted as I remembered our first meeting, how he’d assumed I’d been trying to sneak a picture of him. It was almost hard to believe that was almost a week ago. 

Work began again that following Monday and training was progressing well, if my lack of broken plates and cups lately had anything to say about it, and I was still shadowing Shin-Hye, who I was beginning to really like. It turned out that she didn’t just work at the café, but also studied at the local university to be a screenwriter. I could tell she led a busy life, helping to support her single mother and two younger siblings through their own schooling. She was pretty amazing in her own right.

“We’ve organised a staff night out tonight.” She told me cheerfully that Thursday. 

“Really?” I asked, looking to Minhyuk in confirmation.

“We’re introducing you to the delights of Korea’s bars.” He explained. 

I was excited, though also a little apprehensive. I changed quickly after my shift into a cute light blue blouse with ruffle detail and a pair of cropped jeans, pairing it with my favourite boots. Since it was November and freezing I pulled on my coat, scarf – and slipped on the gloves I’d bought with TaeHyung, despite them being made from cheap cotton. Outside Minhyuk and Shin-Hye were waiting for me, having finished locking up. 

We walked to a bar close by, a small place which was toasty warm inside. We ordered soju and I had to quickly remember my manners as Minhyuk poured us shots, holding my glass with both hands. My grandmother would be proud I remembered, I mused, as I down the shot with my head turned away from the table. 

Soju was definitely an acquired taste, one I wasn’t sure I’d had just yet. My eyes watered after each drink, though my work colleagues seemed in no mood to stop as they ordered another bottle.

“To JooHyun!” Shin-hye declared on our fourth shot.

“For passing her training period!” Minhyuk added.

I lowered my glass. “I passed?” 

“Of course you did.” Shin-hye laughed. “It’s a coffee shop, JooHyun. It hardly takes a genius to work there.”

“How do you think Shin-Hye got the job?” Minhyuk teased.

As Shin-hye slapped with and argued back, I was overcome with emotion, the most prominent the overwhelming feeling of pride for myself. I’d passed. I would be working the rota, earning a full time wage… I’d done it.

“To the café!” I declared, holding up the shot.

“The café!” They both echoed.

We stayed there for a while longer before moving to the fabled karaoke rooms of which Korea was famous. I found myself out of my depth as they each chose songs, singing two each while I scrolled through the list seeing loads I didn’t know. Under much protest I ended up singing Western songs requested by popular demand, most notably Maria Carey, Britney Spears and Beyoncé, all to my mortification. I butchered them all. But I was well into my drinks and in the end began to become less embarrassed with each warbled note. 

“You have an amazing voice!” Shin-Hye complimented. “You could’ve been an idol.”

“You could.” Minhyuk agreed.

“Your idol culture is weird to me.” I admitted as we took a singing break. 

“What idol groups do you like?” Shin-Hye asked.

“I don’t really know any.” I admitted sheepishly. “Korean music isn’t that big a market in America.”

“But you must have heard some.” She pushed.

“Well, yeah I hear the music playing in shops and stuff but I don’t really recognise them.”

“What about BTS?”

Minhyuk turned and glared at her. “What?” She protested drunkenly. “I just want to know whether she likes them!”

“I’ve never heard of them.” I admitted, though the name rang a bell.

I was pretty sure I saw their name plastered on products I passed on street stalls aimed at tourists. 

“How about another song?” Minhyuk suggested. “I have a feeling you’ll like this group, JooHyun.”

In the end I was dragged up and attempted to join in with the song – and the dance that accompanied it. It was a number by a group called Girls Generation and was apparently so popular neither could fathom how I didn’t know it. But as we danced around shaking our hips to the pop hit ‘Gee’ I found myself enjoying the night even more. 

Which was something I had to remember when I woke up that next morning with what felt like the worse hangover I’d ever experienced. 

“Good night?” My aunt asked with amusement when she returned home with her suitcase. 

I grunted from the sofa and she laughed.

“Korean drinking culture is awful.” I declared sullenly.

“How so?” She smiled as she came to join me on the sofa, abandoning her suitcase by the door.

“I thought it was just about letting the most senior pour drinks and holding the glass with two hands, bur they both convinced me it was also about accepting every drink your senior offered you.”

“It is. But you can say no.”

I sighed. “That word seemed impossible last night. I’ve never seen people get so disgustingly drunk so quickly.”

“It’s a culture all right.” She agreed. 

I turned to see her still smiling. “Good trip?”

“Very good trip. My exhibition went well, all my pieces sold.”

“That’s great news!” 

She nodded, still looking pleased. “But now I have to start all over again on new work.”

“You love it though.”

“I do.” She sighed happily. 

“We should celebrate.” I decided. “Let’s go out for food tonight. My treat.”

“Don’t be absurd. My treat.” 

I tried to argue but she silenced me with a pat of my arm. “I know you’re working now and I know you’ve been selling off some of your things, but don’t go wasting your money. It might grow on trees, but it’s not easy to come by and every bit of it counts.” 

I finally agreed, feeling her words to my core. I’d never before in my life given much consideration to money, as I’d always had it and there had never really been a shortage of it. But she was right – now I really needed to take more notice of my spending, which made me feel guilty about what I’d spent last night. 

We had lunch at a nice little café and she told me all about her work and how busy she was ever since she’d secured an agent. As I listened to her talk I felt a moment of admiration for my aunt and everything she had achieved, all of it off her own back. It couldn’t have been easy, leaving her affluent life at eighteen and going off to become an artist, a career difficult for anyone even with the support of their parents. 

But she hadn’t had any support, not at all. And I admired her even more for it. 

I told her about my time in the café, how I’d passed my training and how I’d opened up my very first bank account. Then finally, my other plans. 

“I’m also going to start looking for an apartment soon.” I told her. “I love living with you, but–”

“You want your own space.” She finished for me. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m being ungrateful…”

“Don’t be silly.” She snorted. “You’re young, of course you want your own place. A studio is no place for a girl your age. Do you want me to help you look? I know some great areas that are relatively cheap.”

I thanked her for the offer and accepted it, feeling that much closer to my goal of independence with the prospect of having my own place. I’d never lived alone. Before in America I’d lived in my fathers home, since he was always off staying in his villas or apartments abroad that in theory, it kind of was like living alone. Except I had maids, cooks, a live-in stylist… 

I felt a swell of self-doubt and a brief feeling of such overwhelming aloneness before it was quickly swept aside. I wasn’t alone. I had my aunt and watching her sitting opposite me, talking about her own apartment disasters when she’d started out reminded me that she was there for me.

As she gave a detailed account of a particular horrid basement apartment she’d r

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SoDisfunctional
TaeHyung POV chapter coming tonight ~ (:

Comments

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MsTaeyong 249 streak #1
🥺💚
vreneheart #2
Missing this story
MsTaeyong 249 streak #3
How to get an update from you Authornim? 😭
Hayagi #4
Chapter 14: I'm looking forward to the next chapter! There are some typos, but the story is good!
Hopefully Joohyun's experience helps her to get rid of the stalkers.
AMB1KA #5
Chapter 14: Please update your stories!
Noorhazwani #6
Chapter 14: Can you update ur stories..i really like it!
irenii #7
Chapter 14: it was cute his POV even though he is in denial haha. I was so happy that this story has been updated :D
vreneheart #8
Chapter 14: I m so glad and happy that u updated dear author plus I liked tae's pov I was waiting for his side actually hehe, and and and I missed the story so much dear author, it's really one of my favs❣️♥️❤️❣️♥️❤️❣️♥️❤️
vreneheart #9
Chapter 13: I really rooting for this story......and i miss it hope u update soon dear author❤️❤️
irenii #10
Chapter 13: seriously... what's wrong with her?? that's called stalking and it's a very serious problem. If someone suspects that it's being stalked needs to go to the police asap. Ok, i can get why she doesn't tell her friends but i don't understand how she doesn't have gone to the police and report the stalking and the assault.