Andy has never been so excited to go to a birthday party.

Pre-heat the oven to 375° F.

“Daddy, we should bring something for Jinnie!”

“I know, bubba. We can go shopping for a birthday gift after we close the café tomorrow.”

Gather about a cup and a half of whole hazelnuts and toast them on a sheet pan until they start to brown. Keep an eye on them; they burn easily. When done, gather the hot hazelnuts into a dish towel and seal. Roll them over each other until most of the skins peel off. This takes around 5-7 minutes depending on how angry you are. Dump them in the food processor when done. Pulverize until they’re nearly in powder form but still have enough chunks for bite.

“Not that. Like, we can make something.” He raises his arm enthusiastically. “I HELP!”

“Okay. What did you want to make for Jinnie?”

“A cake?”

Use butter to grease your cast-iron pan. For easier handling, use the butter wrapper. Set aside.

“Mmm. He’ll probably have one, kiddo.” And he doesn’t want to put himself in an awkward position with Hyesung. “What else?”

“Cookies?”

Whisk together flour and salt. Set aside.

“What about…a skillet cookie?”

“What’s a skillet cookie, Daddy?”

“C’mon.”

Make brown butter by placing butter in a medium pan and put it on medium heat. Let it melt. Wait. Watch. Take it off the heat once it stops sizzling. Brown bits should have dropped down to the bottom of the pan.

“Bubba, put on a shirt, please…Don’t touch the butter! Kiddo, that is HELLA hot, what does Daddy always say? What are the rules?”

“Wash your hands. Wear clothes in the kitchen. Um. Don’t touch until Daddy says yes.”

“Good. Sit down please. I’ll bring the dough to you when it’s ready.”

Whisk in brown sugar into the butter. BE CAREFUL. Hot butter stings like a motherer. Set aside the mixture to cool.

“Daddy, can we put…um…Nutella in it?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I guess so. Does Jinnie like Nutella?”

“I dunno…but everyone likes Nutella.”

“Good point.”

Once the butter and sugar mixture has cooled, mix on high speed until it gets fluffy. Scrape down sides. Add one egg. Beat on medium speed for 5 seconds. Scrape down sides. Add another egg. Beat for another 5. Scrape down sides. Add vanilla. Beat on low for 8 seconds. Scrape down sides.

“Dydy, what do you think about chocolate chips?”

Add 1/3 of the flour-salt mixture. Mix on low for 5 seconds. Scrape down sides. Add another 1/3 of the flour-salt mixture. Mix on low for 5 seconds. Scrape down sides. Add final 1/3 plus ½ of the crushed hazelnuts. Mix on low until the flour vanishes from sight. Do NOT over-mix.

“Hmm. I think Nutella will be okay, Daddy. Lots.”

“Okay.”

Warm Nutella in a pan or a microwave until loose and easy to spread.

“Mmm yum, yum, LOOK!”

“Okay, pay attention, bubba. Dough incoming. You ready?”

“Yeah!”

Scrape dough into greased skillet. Spread evenly with spatula. Pour warm Nutella over the top. Using a butter knife, swirl Nutella into the dough. Do not over-mix. If doing this with children, keep a close watch that they do not eat globs of melted Nutella with their fingers while they’re doing it. It will ruin their appetite and make them extremely hyper.

“That okay?”

“Looks perfect, nice job, kiddo!”

Sprinkle top with remaining hazelnuts. Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, until the center is still quite soft but the dough is generally a warm toasty brown.

“IT SMELLS SO GOOD, DADDY!”

“We’ll have to cut it up so we can bring it to Jinnie. But if you want, we can eat this now and then just bake another one on Saturday for him, before we go.”

Cool for at least 20 minutes. Slice. Enjoy.

“Yeah, let’s do that. I want this NOW.”

“Okay.”

--

Saturday is brittle and cold despite the sunlight that coats the city like melted honey. Autumnal frost clings like a ghost to any skin left exposed and sends shivers up unattended spines. What Seoul lacks in temperature however it makes up for in color: all throughout the city, the leaves have reached their autumnal apex and the sight urges people to sit and sigh and drink tea among the rustling trees and fiery landscape, as they whisper and talk and dream underneath a brilliant blue sky.

On that day, the Wolf and Rabbit stays shuttered, the announcement of its unavailability expressed with a taped-on piece of card stock decorated with smiley faces on the door promising searching customers that they will be back bright and early on Monday, and wishing everyone a happy weekend. Eric spends the morning instead with Andy buying a last-minute birthday present for Junjin, as well as preparing a second skillet cookie that they’ll be bringing as an additional gift, before rushing off to the shower so they can start getting ready.

Children’s Party at 4PM, the invitation Hyesung had sent to Minwoo’s email said. Cocktails for adults available until 5PM. Dinner to be served at 6PM. The invitation looked professionally done and was almost sterile in its nature. Only the announcement on the children’s party schedule was decorated, the words surrounded by a moving Lego frame. The rest of the schedule was formally displayed and looked as though they had been invited to an art gallery opening. It was by far the strangest children’s party invitation Eric had ever seen.

“Is there a dress code to this?” he calls Dongwan at some point as he stares at Andy’s open wardrobe, unable to decide what to dress his son in. He doesn’t want to look like a fool in front of Hyesung and the other guests. When Dongwan only laughs in his ear in response and tells him to relax, Eric hangs up on him in frustration.

He tries to call Minwoo but is unable to reach him, so Eric gives up and just reaches for the nearest clothes he can get: bright blue chinos, a black plaid long-sleeved polo, and a black crewneck sweater to layer on top, bearing in mind that it’s better to be a little overdressed than not. The sweater has a bright green UFO on front so he figures Andy would still look kid’s party-ready. For his own clothes he opts for dark chinos, a navy striped sweater, and a slim-fit suit jacket that he throws on at the last minute as sprays on some cologne. Andy insists that the both of them wear sneakers. When Minwoo picks them up at 3:30, as previously agreed, he stares at them both as they come out of the building, making Eric fidget and adjust his jacket collar.

“What?” He snaps at Minwoo, annoyed. He’s also nervous. why?

“No reason. You guys clean up well, I see. You, especially.” Minwoo smirks. Eric is relieved to see that Minwoo has also taken the smart-casual route, wearing twill pants, a blue chambray shirt, and a dark green velvet jacket. He’s also picked them up in a fancy black Maserati.

“You brought out the big guns?” Eric says, admiring the interior of the car. Minwoo is usually so low-key about his wealth that sometimes Eric forgets just how well-off he actually is.

“Yeah, well. I’m not taking any chances. Besides, I rarely get to take this baby out.” Minwoo grins. “We set?”

“Do you know where it is?” Eric asks, eyeing the GPS as they pull off towards the main road.

“Yep, it’s not very far. But I don’t really go to that area.” Minwoo turns his attention to the package Eric has in his hands. “OOH, you baked cookies??”

“Shut up, they’re not for you.”

“If that’s a bribe for Hyesung, he doesn’t look the type to be swayed by sweets. I’m just saying.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “Not that I asked, because irrelevant. They’re for Junjin.”

“Ah, I take it back then.” Minwoo smiles. “He’ll love that.”

“I made it!” Andy announces from the backseat, apparently having understood what they’re talking about. “With Daddy, but I mixed and poured. And spreaded.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna give your dad a run for his money.” Minwoo says, addressing Andy through the rearview mirror. “How about you bake me some cookies next time?”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Andy says, shrugging with clear disinterest in the offer. Eric bursts out laughing as Minwoo makes a face.

“One day.” Minwoo sighs. “Can’t believe Junjin and his father are getting Mun-made baked goods before me.”

“You eat my cooking every day!” Eric says, unable to believe the veiled accusation being thrown at him. “And this is for Junjin, not Hyesung. I’m not going there for him.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Minwoo still looks slightly miffed but his lips are already quirking up into a grin.

The drive is shorter than they expected, and within ten minutes they’re at their destination. UN Village is just off of the Han and is apparently a gated community. The location is such that it has numerous views of the river on one side and Namsan on the other with every dip and curve of the road. Eric is stunned; he hadn’t imagined Hyesung living here.

“You knew this place was like this?” He asks Minwoo, his tone nearly accusatory as they drive through quiet roads surrounded by multi-level houses with enclosed gardens and expensive cars. He’s not seen houses of this size since leaving America, and had somewhat forgotten that they do actually exist. Minwoo just shrugs.

“Yeah, duh. Everyone knows this location. I thought you knew and that’s why you asked about me bringing the Maserati.”

For some reason, Eric is now more nervous. “Of course I didn’t, I’m not from here.”

“Well I’m glad you guys are wearing the right clothes because I would have made you change if you decided to wear just a shirt and jeans—oh, here we go!”

The car comes to a halt across the street from a tall modern-style house sitting atop a garage finished in wood and exposed concrete, looking completely out of place among the more traditional-looking homes in the area. There’s a half-open wooden gate on the street level that opens to a stairwell leading to the upper area where he supposes the main entrance is. A large golden ‘7’ balloon is stuck to the post beside the gate.

“Is this it?” Eric asks incredulously. His mouth is dry.

“Yep, that’s definitely it.” Minwoo says. “Quit stalling and get Andy out of his car seat, will you? I’ll get the gifts from the trunk.”

Eric’s anxiety is skyrocketing as they cross the distance between the car and Hyesung’s house, his hold on Andy’s hand more so that he doesn’t see it shaking than to actually keep Andy from bolting forward. He is nauseous and unsettled for no defined reason, and if Minwoo wasn’t walking behind him and blocking the stairwell leading down to the street he would have gone back down and walked back home.

“Will you get a grip? What’s wrong with you?” Minwoo says, probably sensing his anxiety as they approach the front door. The upper level where the front door is has a zen garden pinpricked with spindly pine trees. The sight of it does anything but calm Eric. “Ring the doorbell already.”

“I do it, Daddy!” Andy volunteers, and he does before Eric can say stop, tiptoeing so that he can reach the button that ultimately sets off a small chime that they can hear even from outside.

, Eric thinks as the door opens seconds after, and it is by a middle-aged woman wearing a housekeeper’s uniform. “Hello,” he says, forcing his mouth to work. “We’re here for Shin Jun— Choongjae’s party?” He corrects himself at the last minute, remembering how Hyesung prefers calling his son by what seems to be his real name. The housekeeper nods.

“Your invitation please?” she asks, politely but firmly. From behind Eric, Minwoo shoves through and shows her his phone where he has the invitation opened. It’s only when she sees it that her expression softens slightly and she steps aside to allow them entrance.

“Choongjae and the other children are downstairs in the basement where the games are about to start. I can accompany your son there. Hyesung-ssi is attending to the other guests upstairs. Shoes off please. The guest slippers are in the cupboard to your right.”

Andy has no problems letting go of his father’s hand to latch on to a woman he’s just met, and Eric watches haplessly as he skips ahead behind the housekeeper the second they switch out their shoes, while still holding on to the gifts they’ve brought. Left alone with Minwoo, Eric studies his surroundings: the entryway they’re standing in is flooded with natural light streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows placed beside a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. Straight ahead, he can see a partial view of a large modern kitchen, fitted with steel and granite. To their immediate left is a sun-filled courtyard that stretches all the way up to the third floor of the house. Everything is neat and polished and there’s a slight scent of patchouli lingering in the air. Minwoo lets out a low whistle.

“You know, I suspected he was rich but I didn’t think it was at this level,” he admits, looking impressed.

“You mean you’re still surprised?” Eric asks, his voice nearly a whisper. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering. He doesn’t want to be here; he’s almost completely lost his nerve. The tall, hushed house intimidates him, but he stays rooted to the dark teak floor.

“Eric!” Minwoo hisses, tugging on his elbow. “C’mon, she said he was upstairs.”

Minwoo leads the way towards the second floor. It’s only now that Eric realizes there is soft music and the sound of laughter floating down to them from the upper levels. His stomach clenches in anxiety but he pushes himself resolutely forward, following in step right behind Minwoo.

The second floor is a large split-level area divided into what seems to be two airy living rooms, with enough corners and hidden partitions so people can enjoy privacy as needed. Though the house looks narrow from the front, it’s also quite deep, and Eric finds himself marveling at the amount of space they’re surrounded with. The furnishings are sparse but allow for practicality as much as design and everything is actually quite tastefully decorated. In the bigger room Eric can see a stone fireplace in front of a large L-shaped sofa and a granite coffee table, and it’s there where a good number of people are. Before they can enter it, however, Dongwan intercepts them by the stairs.

“Hey, you made it!” Dongwan says, wearing his trademark grin. He’s holding two glasses of champagne, one of which he gives to Minwoo. He’s also wearing what looks to be his work clothes: cargo pants, boots, a green Henley under a plaid polo, and a cap that he’s wearing backwards. Eric sees as Minwoo eyes his outfit with a questioning look on his face.

“What are you wearing?” Minwoo asks, looking baffled.

“What? I always dress like this.” Dongwan says, unbothered. He takes a sip of champagne. “Have you guys seen Hyesung yet?”

Hyesung’s name sends an unwelcome jolt through Eric’s stomach. “Not yet…” he says. He feels strange traipsing around somebody else’s house without having greeted the host, but then he isn’t really in a hurry either.

“Oh yeah, Minwoo, I needed to show you the pictures I took of some of the stuff at the Wolf and Rabbit. You can use it if you want; I just can’t stand seeing those pictures you’re using anymore.”

“Hey! I took those myself.”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you they could look better. I was just editing them on my computer if you want to see. I’m sure Eric can meet with Hyesung himself, seeing that he’s Andy’s dad and all, and Junjin did invite Andy,” Dongwan looks up at him. “Right, Eric?”

The notion of Minwoo leaving him to fend for himself makes Eric panic a little. “I mean…” he starts to say, but then berates himself for the uneasiness he feels. This is getting ridiculous. I don’t know what I’m scared of. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’ll just show Minwoo the pictures then we’ll come find you. I can show you the pictures too later, if you want. But Hyesung is in there if you’re looking for him.” Dongwan motions towards the bigger living room at the end of the hallway behind Eric; he already has a hold on Minwoo’s sleeve and is tugging him towards the opposite end.

“Yeah, okay.” Eric resigns himself to his fate, knowing he doesn’t really have a choice on the matter.

“Great! See you later then,” Dongwan says, then pulls Minwoo away before the other man can even have a chance to speak.

Traitor. Eric finds himself grumbling as he walks towards the direction Dongwan pointed out. The big living room is split into two levels from the main hallway, with the larger area up one level from where he is, and another area at a lower level and offering a clear view of the courtyard. He holds his breath as he walks up the step towards the living room.

There is no less than 20 people in the room, bedecked in casual designer clothing and all talking in hushed tones or laughing demurely into their wine glasses. Eric is shocked to realize that he recognizes some of them as TV personalities, but they don’t spare him a glance as he edges around the throng. He spots Hyesung easily, his face somehow standing out amongst the sea of glitzy celebrities that Eric has no business being with. He is standing by the crackling fireplace, wearing a dusky blue patterned suit that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else but effortlessly fitting on him, his sleek form contrasting sharply with the light stone and white walls. He’s having a conversation with someone who is laughing much too boisterously and even from where he is, Eric can see his disinterest.

(Beautiful, he thinks the first moment he sees Yumi having dinner at Nobu where he works, laughing and cheering with her friends as they raise full cups of sake to each other)

He sees when Hyesung turns his head slightly and immediately notices him, his expression flickering into something that looks oddly like amusement. When Hyesung excuses himself from the other guests and starts approaching him, Eric can feel his fight-or-flight response getting triggered.

“Eric Mun.” Hyesung says once he’s within speaking distance. Is he actually smirking? “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you…for inviting us.” Eric says curtly, not trusting himself to speak any more than a few words. His grip tightens around the package he has in his hands. “Oh, here.” He hands the glass Tupperware containing the sliced skillet cookie to Hyesung. “Andy made this for Junjin.”

Hyesung takes it with careful hands. His fingers are long and delicate, like tapered candles. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll make sure Choongjae receives them well.”

There’s an awkward silence that follows that Eric isn’t sure how to fill. He doesn’t want to engage in small talk with Hyesung, wishing to keep their interactions to a minimum. He doesn’t know what is there to talk about apart from their children, and he certainly doesn’t want to risk informing him of the almost-daily afternoon meetings the boys have at the café in case Hyesung hasn’t actually granted permission. Not without the assurance at least that Hyesung isn’t going to take it out on him again, at any rate. Eric isn’t sure he has enough patience or self-restraint for another bout.

He wonders if anyone would notice if he left and just came back later to pick Andy up. He doesn’t think he can survive 3 or more hours of this forced togetherness…

“I have to admit I didn’t expect your acceptance of my invitation.” Hyesung says, taking a sip of his wine. “Our last meeting didn’t really leave a good taste in either our mouths, I think.”

Quite literally. Eric muses, but he isn’t going to admit that. He grits his teeth.

“I apologize…again…for the incident,” he says, belatedly thankful that there hadn’t seemed to be any complications following Junjin’s falling off the stool. Although it irks him to repeat his apology, he doesn’t want this restrained animosity to go on especially since Junjin and Andy are now bosom buddies. A phantom pain throbs in his jaw and he grimaces.

“I hardly think that’s the only thing you should be apologizing for, but fine. I’ll accept it.”

“What?” Eric frowns.

“You did insinuate that I neglect my son which, of course, is the furthest from the truth.” Hyesung's eyes gleam with remembrance of the incident. 

“You can hardly blame me for that; for all I knew, Dongwan could have been his father.”

Hyesung snorts. “Please. Dongwan is a half-feral man-child. He’s just lucky he’s exceptionally talented in at least one thing.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I don’t want to drag this on so can we call it quits already? I’m sorry.”

There’s a tense pause for when he expects Hyesung to say his own apologies, but the other man only stares back at him.

Bastard. Eric bites his tongue.

“At any rate,” his continuous efforts to speak surprises him, but he feels he at least owes his son an effort to reach out to his best friend’s father, “Andy would have been disappointed if we didn’t go to this party. I know he and Junjin have been talking about it…in class and such.” He adds the last detail in haste.

This at least gets a favored reaction from Hyesung, who purses his lips. “My son has always been the talkative type, but in the past few weeks, I’ve hardly been able to catch up with whatever stories he has of him and your boy. I don’t think I’ve seen him this…enthusiastic about anyone from school before.” He is cautious with his words.

“They get along very well.” Eric says, although ‘very well’ may be an understatement. The boys often bicker, laugh, play, and tease each other like brothers. “Andy is shy and Junjin helps him come out of his shell.”

“I hear Choongjae speak more in English now even at home because of your son.” Hyesung comments, looking amused. “It’s odd, but hardly anything to be worried over.”

“Andy says Jun—Choongjae helps him practice Korean too.” Eric finally makes a conscious effort to correct himself since Hyesung seems pretty adamant at calling his son by just one name.

“He does, huh? Well, better to put that talkativeness to good use.” A small smile graces Hyesung’s lips. An agreeable expression.

A strange sort of calmness settles over Eric, and he thinks that maybe he and Hyesung would actually be able to get along, bearing in mind that they have to talk only about certain topics…

“Did you bring your wife?” Hyesung suddenly asks, peering casually over his shoulder. “I was under the impression you would.”

Ah, therein lies the rub.

“No.” Eric says, and hopes it ends at that. Already he feels the familiar dread that comes when Yumi is referred to or addressed unexpectedly. Thankfully, it isn’t as bad as when they had had that previous phone call, but hearing her being alluded to is enough to make his heart stutter. He really doesn’t want to discuss his wife with anyone, especially strangers. Especially Hyesung. Hyesung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Oh?” The look in his eyes is curious, and Eric has the sudden impulse to push him away, if only to get him to stop probing. His throat is tight and his tongue heavy and bitter. “Yah, don’t tell me you’ve come here with your son without actually telling your wife where you were going!”

Hyesung takes a step towards him and instinctively, Eric raises his hands and shoves him backward. The wine from his glass spills and stains the expensive-looking shag rug they’re standing on. Eric sees as Hyesung’s mouth twists in an angry scowl and then as he pulls back his lips to speak, but he beats him to speaking.

“She’s dead. My wife.” Eric says, the last word escaping from him like a breath. He feels light-headed and nauseated all of a sudden, and the only sound he can hear is the echo of his own voice and his solitary heartbeat.

(I love you SO much.

How much, Mama? Is your love bigger than Daddy?

THIS much. Bigger and taller and stronger than Daddy. THIS THIS THIS much.)

“She died…this year.” Eric repeats, tasting blood and anguish in the truth of his words. His heart is a hammer threatening to crash through his chest. His sorrow has been unearthed and is about to swallow him whole. In front of him, Hyesung has frozen, his eyes wide with shock. Behind him, the rest of the guests have paused midway in their own conversations and are now watching them with hooded eyes and slightly upturned gazes.

“Eric, I…” Hyesung says. His mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air. “I didn’t know…I mean--”

Bile rises in Eric’s throat. He has to leave.

“Excuse me.” Eric gives a curt bow then quickly turns to leave, clamping his hand over his mouth as he rushes towards the stairs with the full intention of heading straight out the front door without looking back. 

tbc

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