Fast forward several years later, and you'll find Chorong to be just as closed off and strict with her life principles, or perhaps even more so. 

"Chorong unnie! I got your text. Where are you?"

"Over here, Hayoung-ah!" Chorong called from somewhere deep within the apartment.

Hayoung huffed as she reached her destination, jiggling a key into the door lock. "Unnie, how on earth did you manage to lock yourself in the closet?"

Chorong was repressing a part of herself down, down, way down to the soles of her feet. She'd step on it if she had to. It was denial, she knew this. She'll just have to suffer a slow and sad, painful, agonising death. All alone and widowed from the faceless husband, sharing a run-down space with her —one, two, three— nine cats, looking back on her twenties and thinking what a time that was. 

"Oh, how I'd give to go back to my twenties," Granny Rong would say. "Look where that led me, where I rot and weep in my lonely sleep. I can't even be proud of the life I lived, because I never did what I really wanted... I never found the one for me."

"Ew!" Chorong reacted in the present, catching a glimpse of that strange part of her mind.

Such a weird thought. She shook her head to be rid of it. Begone thought! 

But, enough about Chorong. It's time to meet someone else who's important to her story. Someone you just met from the second line of this chapter.

The Instigator:  Oh Hayoung

You ever have that one friend you argue with excessively? 

"Ha, bold of you to assume I have friends." 

A shocked gasp tore from Hayoung's throat. "Chorong unnie! I thought we were friends!" 

Well, here at apartment number 3-19 in this rowdy neighbourhood is where we meet roommates Park Chorong and Oh Hayoung; a pair, you may find, that follows this very dynamic of friendship. They are constantly butting heads. 

"OH HAYOUNG WHY THE HELL ARE YOU VACUUMING. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP." 

"Unnie, you were the one who said I should do more cleaning. That's what I'm doing!"

"BUT NOT AT 1AM!!"

They've been the best of buds since the lousy landlord accidentally sold the space twice and they ended up meeting as roommates. 

It was really a blessing in disguise, though neither would be willing to admit it. There is just something comforting about living with another person and having someone to come home to; someone to look out for. 

For a fresh-faced college student, readying the challenges of adulthood. 

For a lonesome bookstore owner, getting through her day to day. 

And no, despite how they looked, Hayoung was the younger one. Chorong thought that was clear from the frivolous manner in which the girl carried herself in the things she did. That splash of innocence and childishness was so obvious.

Likewise, Hayoung could sense Chorong's scary authoritarian aura from the beginning. She describes it as a feeling she gets, characteristic of an unnie with a job, a business, and her life put together. 

But people often mistake their roles as the other way round. It makes you realise how often people go by appearances first. It's just one of those things these unlikely roommates could connect on. When you fall into unwanted debates about your age so many times throughout your life, it quickly gets old. 

Nonetheless, it never stopped Hayoung from teasing Chorong about their height and age difference. It was Chorong's complex; irritating on her best day, a dark reminder on her worst. 

Because they knew each other so well, you could say the young college student had perfected the art on how-to-make-Chorong-upset.

Every day in their small apartment was an aggravation. 

"Alright, that's an exaggeration."

Yep, Hayoung made Chorong's life a living hell.

"Hey! You make this place a hellhole too! You're not my mother, unnie."

With a head-aching mixture of dirty and clean clothes strewn everywhere, dishes unwashed, dust accumulating— Hayoung left all the chores to Chorong. Sometimes she'd be too busy gaming to remember that she needed to eat, and Chorong would have to be there to make sure the girl didn't starve herself.

Young people these days. Always on their technologies. 

At the same time, Hayoung found Chorong's heart for cleanliness a bit too much, and her rules around the home got annoying at times. There were days when Hayoung just wanted to do her own thing and game all night without anyone nagging her. Of course Chorong wouldn't let her have that.

Chorong was so uptight and controlling, it got Hayoung thinking. How could she lessen her own suffering and get Chorong to chill out? If only the older woman could channel that protective care towards something else. 

Or someone else.

With that thought, Hayoung hit the jackpot. She felt like a genius. 

Maybe what Chorong needed was some lovin' in her life. She'd been alone ever since she first met her. She ain't got nobody.

Chorong was always taking care of Hayoung, but who was taking care of Chorong? 

If only she had someone to take care of her, someone of her own to love and hold, then Hayoung would never have to be worried ever again. That image of Chorong growing old as uptight as ever and forever alone, was giving her the heebie-jeebies.

Nuh-uh. Hayoung wasn't about to let that perfect life of passivity happen to her unnie; her "why-has-she-not-snagged-a-date-yet", honestly really pretty and hot in-a-nerdy-way Chorong unnie.

She was going to make sure Chorong got laid— I mean, got a date! She was going to make sure Chorong got a date. 

The only thing was... hmm. 

Hmmmmmmmmm.

Chorong was enjoying some time alone with her new favourite book. Curled up in an armchair with a soothing hot cup of tea by her side, she couldn't wait to dig into the next chapter. Unwinding in the tranquility of an afternoon on her day off, with no roommate to bother her... Ah, this was the life.

The feeling of holding a book in your hands was such a simple pleasure that Chorong enjoyed. Holding a piece of work, a piece of art, a piece of someone else's story in your possession. A work that has gone through countless hours and revisions by the people who made it all possible. The pages bounded together tightly without any loose ends. The text cleanly printed onto each page, perfectly, seamlessly. 

Mm, the smell of fresh pages. The perks of being a bookstore owner. 

Free from the grubbiness and creases that ruin old books. Who knows where other people's hands have been. Or where those books have been. 

You would never believe how badly people treat books sometimes. It's like, what did the book ever do to you? 

And ughhh. Food stains. Dead bugs in the crevices. Horrendous things to come across, I tell you.

So, maybe she was paranoid about sharing books, but simply put, those were the reasons why Chorong ran a bookstore and not a library. 

"Heyyy unnie!"

Ah, ahem. Before she knew it, time had flown and the devil was back.

"Hello Hayoung," Chorong grumbled.

"Hey unnie, you'll never guess what happened to me this morning!" Hayoung said cheerfully, dropping her bookbag on the couch and towering over Chorong like the giraffe she was. "This girl I don't know just walked up to me and started talking to me! She was smiling and blushing and being all cute-" 

"Mhm, yeah, so interesting," Chorong mumbled distractedly. 

"Then, you won't believe this, she gave me her number!" Hayoung squealed, long arms waving about in a frenzy. She looked at her roommate expectantly, waiting for a feedback.

Dot, dot, dot.

Hayoung rolled her eyes when Chorong didn't respond, absorbed in her book. "Unnie!"

"Hm?"

"She. Gave. Me. Her. Number." 

"So what?"

"So what??" Hayoung leaned back flabbergasted. "Literally nobody just gives me their number! But that's besides the point. I think she might've thought that I was gay."

Gay. Gaaaaaaaay.

Chorong slowly looked up from her book, steely gaze piercing into Hayoung's soul. Unfortunately, the younger girl didn't do so much as flinch. Chorong seemed to be losing her touch. This was really, maknae on top.

"S-s-so why are you telling me this?" Chorong ended up stuttering in panic. "Why should I care? I don't care. What did you have for lunch today?"

"Aw, you don't have to get all defensive about it, unnie."

"I'm not getting defensive!" she snapped. "What do I care about some gay girl you met? I have a perfectly good book in my possession and I'm trying to read."

Hayoung's mouth twisted at the adverse and flustered reaction.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it, unnie," she said slyly, in a way that was just dripping with trouble, and Chorong didn't like it one bit. "I just think it's something we should be able to talk about."

"Hayoung, I don't want to talk about it! This conversation is over," Chorong fretted.

"But unnie-"

"Over!"

Chorong angrily stuck her nose back into the book she was reading. She just wanted to be left alone again. 

Hayoung backed off a little at the outburst, softening her approach. 

"Well, okay... but just so you know..."

Ears pricking up in confusion, Chorong suddenly got the distinct sense that a musical number had begun to play in the background of their apartment. The next thing you know, Hayoung might stand up and start singing-

Oh, there she goes.

"Yah! What are you doing- Get off the table!" 

Hayoung just puffed up her chest with confidence, belting out her broadway performance to Chorong's dismay. 

♪  "If you were gay, that would be o-kay. I mean 'cause hey... I like you a-ny-way."

Chorong scoffed.

♪  "Because you see, if it were me~ I would feel free to say, that I was gay (but I'm not gay)."

"Hayoung-ah, please. I'm trying to READ."

Chorong huffed, turning away from the younger with her now-rather-neglected book in tow. Finally, maybe some peace-

But damn it if she didn't feel Hayoung's judging eyes burning into her side. 

"What!" Chorong exploded.

♪  "If you were queer-"

"Hayoung-ah!"

♪  "I'd still be here-"

"Hayoung, I'm trying to read this book."

♪  "Year after year-"

"Hayoung-ahhh."

♪  "Because you're dear to me."

"Argh!"

♪  "And I know that you-"

"..What?"

♪  "Would accept me too~"

"I would?"

♪  "If I told you today, "Hey! Guess what? I'm gay!" but I'm not gay."

The look on Chorong's face said she was so over it. 

♪  "I'm happy just being with you~ So what does it matter to me, what you do in bed with girls?"

"HAYOUNG THAT'S GROSS-"

"NO IT'S NOT!" the younger was quick to counter. "If you were gay~ I'd shout HOORAY!"

Chorong grouched, "I am not listening!"

♪  "And here I'd stay~"

"LALALALALALA," Chorong tried to drown her out.

♪  "But I wouldn't get in your way."

Hayoung pushed her lovable face over Chorong's book, only serving to heighten the woman's panic. Chorong freaked out, leaping from the armchair with a scream. 

"AHHH!"

♪  "You can count on me~ to always be~ beside you every day, to tell you it's okay. You were just born that way."

Chorong was red with anger, steadily rising in pressure with steam coming out of her ears. 

♪  And as they say, it's in your DNA! You're gay~

"I AM NOT GAY!" she yelled, backing towards her bedroom.

"IF you WERE gay!"

"ARGH!" Chorong ended the sequence, slamming her door shut, heart rate thumping at the speed of a cheetah. 

Jesus Christ, what the hell was that? 

Old lady Mrs Ho, who lived on the floor below them, was a nice lady, for the most part. A little racist, a little traditional, Mrs Ho was someone who fed into stereotypes and wielded the most formidable weapon known to mankind: an ahjumma's sharp tongue. 

It seems this information had momentarily slipped from Chorong's mind when she decided to confide in Mrs Ho one morning. Settled down in the old woman's small living room space for tea and biscuits that Chorong tried hard to decline, keyword being tried, they were initially discussing the matter of Chorong and Hayoung being invited to attend her son's wedding. They had never formally met her son, but everyone knew how Mrs Ho just goes on and on about him. In fact, all the neighbours were invited on the grounds of being friends with Mrs Ho. 

It was then that the conversation turned to Chorong asking for advice; perhaps testing the waters. With all this talk of marriage that she should really be happy for, Chorong frowned at how opposite she was feeling. 

"You see, Mrs Ho, I have this friend-" she began.

"Hayoung?"

"No! Not Hayoung. Another friend. And I think this friend has a very big problem." 

Chorong inhaled a shaky breath. "Well, I think my friend might be... gay."

Mrs Ho chuckled at how Chorong hid her face in her hands. 

"Hahaha! What's wrong with that? Ah, ya know, Chorong. When I went to America to visit my son, I saw so many different kinds of people. It's like walking in a human zoo! And the gay scene there, is just wow. The gays have been making contributions to the arts for many a year now-"

"No, not gay, like gay men- I mean, my friend is a female. Which means, I think she's a leth- les- lesb- leths-" 

"Don't hurt yourself, Chorong-ah."

"Lethbian. No, hang on, wait, I got it."

This might take a couple minutes. 

"Sorry, it's just a.. a bit of an accidental lisp there, hehe," Chorong blubbered, trying not to gag. "L-Leeezzbian." 

"Oh, you mean a lesbian! Now there's nothin' wrong with that either, Chorong-ah. Ya know, I just had a lesbian repair my car the other week." Mrs Ho brought her hand up to in a low whisper. "I did an oopsie. Thought she was a man at first. She had to correct me."

"Ah.. but m-my friend. She isn't like that. She's feminine and likes to wear makeup and dresses-"

"Feminine? Like a womanly woman- Ehhh?? What kind of a lesbian is that?"

"I-I-I don't know," Chorong stuttered anxiously. "What does that mean Mrs Ho?"

"Well if she won't change my tires or fix my plumbing then I betcha she's a good-for-nothing lesbian who'll have a hard time finding a lady friend. How you supposed to trust a lesbian that don't look like one? I say, she'll get married to a man. Maybe have an affair. Hmm, sounds like a tricky ." 

Chorong gasped in horror, turning pale. 

"She no lesbian, Chorong-ah," Mrs Ho smiled that deceiving kind-old-lady smile. "You're kidding yourself!" 

"B-B-B-But- AIYEEE OKAY THANKS FOR THAT ADVICE," Chorong stammered unusually loudly, jumping from her seat and making her way to the exit. 

"Oh and Chorong-ah," Mrs Ho called once more, causing the bookstore owner to halt her footsteps. "Just in case, I suggest you stay away from your friend. I don't trust her."

"MMM HAHAHA OKAY GOODBYE MRS HO HAHAHAHA."

"Goodbye now," Mrs Ho waved as the door closed behind Chorong, feeling proud of herself for helping others.

Chorong couldn't help continuing her nervous laughter as she shot out the door and made her way to the stairwell. It wasn't until she was sure that she was out of earshot, that Chorong's weak facade finally slipped. 

"!"

Hayoung believed that the teasing was all in good fun, and that she was just showing her support for Chorong in her unique Habbang way. But for once in Hayoung's twenty-year-old life, her playful antics for her friend turned for the worse and the catalyst was the wedding. 

"Aw, that was beautiful. Don't you think so, unnie?" Hayoung commented, eyes sparkling after the marriage ceremony. They were heading out with the other guests to the beautifully-decorated courtyard for brunch. 

Chorong sighed, glancing at the newly-wed couple who were chatting animatedly with their guests. They looked so happy. "I don't even know them but look at how lucky they are to have each other.." 

There was a heavy tone to her words, and Hayoung noticed the crease between the woman's eyebrows. "Unnie, are you upset?"

Chorong's sad feeling couldn't be controlled. She sighed again, tapping Hayoung on the shoulder to signal he