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Clouds assaulted the skyline. The sun nowhere to be seen but it blew radiant light across the razor blue sky. Another peaceful day in the city. Jongin heard traffic honking below. The bustling world felt far away. A peek out he spotted the desolate parking lot void of life. Too bad his office did not face the staircase.

On his way out he could hardly pick out a blonde waiting for him. Now that Namjoo’s hair was black he wouldn’t be able to pick her out of the crowd. Yet he paused at the bottom steps, browsed the passing pedestrians. No one familiar. The phone sitting within a quick reach in the side pocket of his blazer hadn’t come to life at all either.

Giving up he pushed on to his car, but ended up driving around the city instead of heading right home. He paid no attention to the wondrous skyscrapers, the square building rich with the metropolitan few, or the eateries chasing his car with scents of spices. Few minutes later the streets became recognizable and he realized why as he passed the tailor shop Namjoo lived above.

The stocky brown building was quiet. Not many bodies buzzed about, but the shop owner had some customers today. Jongin’s eyes jot to the door at the side.

He hadn’t heard from Namjoo in five days.

She was getting engaged. But she had said to him, she didn’t want to.

So, what did that mean?

The brown building faded behind him and he was no closer to figuring out Namjoo’s jigsaw than his own turmoil. Evening fell in and Jongin once more stared at the oil painting. Vividly remembering finding Namjoo on that snowing day. She had been freezing but stubbornly waiting for him. Crouched at the side of the road all alone, crying when she saw him.

Had he heard her plea too late?

She had been so happy that day at the museum. So lively she’d even argued with him over noodles. That day she had looked the brightest.

Settling on the decision, Jongin made a pit stop at the tailor shop before heading in to work next morning. The owner was just opening up when he walked in.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted.

“I’m a friend of the lady upstairs,” Jongin introduced himself. “Have you seen her lately?”

If Namjoo seemed to be doing well, he’d leave it be and patiently wait for Hangyeol’s message. He just wanted to know she was all right.

“I haven’t seen her at all.” The woman replied. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

He shook his head, “No, it’s all right. Thank you.”

On his way out he stared up at the second floor. The world dizzily spun around him alarmingly. Namjoo had suddenly disappeared. Knowing now disturbed him.

Running late for work, Jongin had no choice but to report to the courthouse for duty. It was only late afternoon when he managed to find some breather in his office. All he did, though, was flip his phone over and over mindlessly.

Munho had done something. Pulled strings, whatever. Jongin had seen abused cases like this where the privilege exerted their force of money in order to gain control. He had done something and now Namjoo was gone. Calling her might not benefit her situation if she was in trouble. Someone could be monitoring her. After all, everyone was intent on making the engagement possible.

The mobile phone clattered onto the desk and Jongin stared at the screen. It seemed to be screaming at him to do something. Picking up his phone he dialed a number.

“Hangyeol?” Jongin called out when the phone clicked. “Hey, I need a favor from you.”

When they met up that evening at a quiet tavern, a drink was waiting for him at their table, a wooden booth surrounded by portable walls enabling utmost privacy. A shaded lamp hung above glowing weakly onto the scarred tabletop. Hushed murmurs floated around them, but no one raised a voice which was exactly what Jongin was looking for.

Raising a hand, Hangyeol flagged him over. “I arrived early, so I decided to get you a treat.”

The dewy glass slid toward him. “I’m driving.”

“Drink it casually. No two-lip.” Hangyeol teased.

Jongin scoffed recalling college memories. He commented for old time’s sake. “Good times.”

“They were.” Hangyeol grinned. Admonishing it, he gravely informed, “So, I wasn’t able to dig up anything dirty about this pastor.”

“I know.” Jongin quietly told. “I looked him up, too.”

“But we can start with a complaint.” Hangyeol explained letting out a hopeful sigh.

“You should tell her that.”

“I will.” Hangyeol promised. Cutting the legal topic short, he curiously probed, “So, what’s going on? You seeing her?”

“It’s not like that.” Jongin told.

“You asked me to set you up.” A tease glittered in his old friend’s eyes.

“I haven’t seen in her in a while. I’m worried.”

“Distance makes the heart fond.” Hangyeol continued to egg him.

Jongin shot him a flat stare.

“I’m joking. Take it easy.” Hangyeol backed down.

“So, what happened to you?” Jongin switched the course of topic.

“Hey, life happens. We agreed on sharing custody of the kid, so…” the friend ambiguously shrugged. That was Ji Hangyeol’s issue. He was too laid back. Too easy going.

Perking up, his friend nodded his chin forward, “I see her.”

Raising his arm up he motioned for Namjoo to join them. She was in an expensive knee-high white dress and heels. Jongin smelled a lot of perfume and hair spray as she passed.

“Sit here.” Hangyeol slid out of his seat. “I’ll go get you a drink.”

And she was wearing makeup. The colors accentuated her features beautifully bringing out the most of her femininity. Jongin listened to the blood in his veins pick up pace. He was kind of embarrassed because he’d chosen such a horribly downtrodden place to meet. He felt like a goofball.

“I didn’t know you were here.” Namjoo started.

“Uh…well…” Jongin scrambled for an excuse. “We were just hanging out.”

Namjoo glanced elsewhere, the glow in her eyes searching the tavern. “Where did he go?”

“He probably left.”

“Huh? Why?” Namjoo half rose intending to go search for the lawyer. “But he said he had something to tell me.”

“Because I’m the one that told him to.” Jongin admitted.

A brow dipped over her eye. Sinking back down Namjoo asked, “Why?”

“Just…” He idiotically stared at the tabletop. He couldn’t really say it. What was on his mind. The words he wanted to push out.

That he was relieved to see her. He was happy she was still alive and well. He’d been so worried when she didn’t call or show up making one of her absurd demands. She’d been on his mind nonstop and she was…she was doing something to him.

“I’ve been getting ready for the engagement, so I went home.” Namjoo rubbed her bare arms. Her voice was sullen and quiet like she didn’t want to proudly announce it. “It’s been hectic. That’s all.”

“Is it soon?” he discreetly peeked at her, but Namjoo wasn’t looking at him either. Just staring down like she was counting the scars on the table.

“Well, I did make him wait five years.”

He scanned her. The makeup was exuberant. Supposed to exemplify a beautiful woman’s happiness, but Namjoo wasn’t smiling ear to ear. She came off gloomy in front of him, shoulders drooping despite the white dress making her glow. Purely. Innocently. So prettily.

And he wanted to tell it to her. Smile, you’re prettier that way.

“My brother died in that house.” Namjoo somberly told. “I found him by the staircase. He died when he was 23.” Her eyes lowered into some parallel atmosphere. Jongin thought he saw the life go out of them.

If she wasn’t sitting across from him, he might have hugged her.

She sadly said, “That’s how old I am right now. Everything I could be doing right now he’s missing out. He h