“Boyfriend problems?”

I was walking up my apartment stairwell when the ahjumma that lived in unit 2D appeared from the inside her apartment and smirked at me. I think she was one the many tenants who witnessed my huge showdown with Jongin in the parking lot outside.

“Um, yeah,” I replied meekly. I didn’t bother with any polite small-talk, for I was far too tired and far too emotionally-drenched to even be polite. I proceeded up the staircase without a second glance at ahjumma.

Before I reached the 3rd floor landing, ahjumma reappeared at her doorway with what looked like a small carafe of red wine. She held it towards me. “Here, take this.”

I made a face. “Um… No, thank you. I’m kind of underage.”

That wasn’t a big deal, I mean, I drank alcohol despite my age. But it’s not like I could have accepted it casually without consideration of Korea’s legalities. Besides, my parents would have my head if they find out of my nonchalance.

“Wha -? Oh! No,” she laughed. “No, this isn’t wine. Just take it. It’ll help you.”

She kept nudging the carafe towards me through the air, and I knew that if I didn’t accept it, she’d probably try again in the morning on my way to school. I sighed, retreating back down to the 2nd floor to take the burgundy concoction from her.

“Thanks…” I said with as much uncertainty that was evident in my expression. It was heavy, and I held it away from me to take a good look at it. It looked just like red wine. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try a little (or the entire flask, whatever) of this stuff. Alcohol usually went hand in hand with break ups, didn’t?

“I’ll, uh, be going now. Thanks for,” I raised the glass carafe slightly, “this.”

Apartment 2D ahjumma smiled toothlessly and slowly slunk back inside her flat. After I thought about it, I hardly ever bumped into her the entire time my family lived in this building. It’s not like I’m well acquainted with all the families in our building, but I can say that I’ve crossed paths with a good majority of the tenants here. Apartment 2D ahjumma must have been an exception; a creepy, over-concentrated exception.

“Well, there she is. Miss Song Hye Kyo making her grand entrance,” my mother said the minute I stepped into our apartment. “Did they finally call up wraps for your drama shooting?”

“Save it, eomma,” I told her crossly. I fleeted immediately to my bedroom before my mother could say anything else. Unfortunately, she quickly followed suit, holding my door as I was just about to slam it shut.

“Min Seol,” she said, allowing herself to enter my bedroom freely without my permission. She was serious now; her satirically sharp tone disappeared. “What the hell were you doing out there? Are you crazy? Where’s your head? The entire district could hear you fighting!”

I scowled, toeing off my sneakers and trying to block out my mother’s nagging from my ears.

“What’s that?” I heard her ask. She was pointing to the small glass carafe on my desk that Apartment 2D ahjumma gave me. My mother picked it up, pulled out the cork stopper, and sniffed its contents. She grimaced. “Well, I can tell you that that isn’t sansachun or alcohol at all for that matter. Why do you have this?”

I plopped down on my bed. “The ahjumma from Apartment 2D gave that to me on my way up here. Take it. I don’t even know what it is, either.”

She put it back down on my desk next to my collection of Korean translated Sherlock Holmes and Jane Austen novels.

“Min Seol,” she said again, clearly ignoring my offer to take the damned thing. My mother took a seat next to me at the foot of my bed. “You know that I’m not always the one to tell you what you should do in your life, but I’m always here to guide you when you are beginning to stray off. And if that Jongin boy is causing you to forget the things you love, the things you’ve spent your entire life working for, then maybe – ”

“There’s no need to say anything else, eomma,” I told her before she could say it. “We’ve already broken up.”

My mom looked shocked, which was surprising to me. It’s not that she disapproved of Jongin or expected us to have been broken up earlier in our relationship. It’s just that she never really considered him a boyfriend of mine. Of course she knew we were dating, but you know how some parents are. They always stand in denial whenever their children (especially their firstborns) have their first boyfriends or girlfriends. But this time, seeing my mom so shocked at our breakup was a new thing for me.

“What?” I asked.

“A-are you okay?” She stammered, squeezing my hand. Her eyes were widened, silently imploring me for an answer.

“I’m fine,” I said, taken aba