Jung Hyerim, aged twenty-five, the only daughter of the Chairman of Jung-Shim Constructions, was getting married to the love of her life. It was the wedding of the century for the entirety of the Jung-Shim conglomerate. After the crippling impacts of the global pandemic and an impending world economic recession, her marriage to the only son and heir to Suwon group was a saving grace. The marriage was not merely two people taking each other’s hands tonight, although it may appear so to all wedding goers- the flower decorations, the live band, the celebrities she had singing on stage for her. It was also a marriage between two business giants, saving each other from falling to the ground in a concurred merger.

If anything, Jung Hyerim should be on top of the world right now. She was beautiful tonight, in the custom-made ballgown wedding dress with forty two hundred rhinestones hand-sewn to the bodice and the skirt that created an illusion of thousand sparkling little rainbows when she walked, a four meters long veil made from finest silk imported from china, thin silver strings embedded into the bare thread like little secrets. Everyone spoke about her much less than they spoke about her dress; it was truly the star of the show tonight.

Followed by her husband, of course. Gorgeous, gorgeous, as if he walked straight out a fairytale; he had every head turning with just a simple smile that brought a twinkle in his eyes. He spoke to just about everyone present at the party, the epitome of a high-class socialite. He held flutes of champagne in a grace that she could never imagine in herself, and held her clammy hand as if he would keep her to him forever. He had been the sweetest to her the entire day and looked at her as if he could see nobody else but her. Her parents were beaming, sparkling like fireworks in new year eve. What more could she expect from them? After all, she was saving them; their pride, their dignity, everything they owned. Not only would she be marrying into Suwon Group, tonight. She was also becoming the youngest director and first female director the Jung-Shim group had ever had for the fifty four years of their history. Overnight, she had become one of the most powerful women in the world.

So, she should be happy…right? Jung Hyerim, the youngest and first female director of one of the largest, proudest conglomerates of the nation, married into the Suwon group, taking the hand of its rich, handsome heir whom an entire country of young women had been dreaming of, Jung Hyerim should be happy…

…right?

If happiness was an illusion like the thousands of rhinestones donning her bridal dress, Hyerim should be living and breathing in it. She should be floating two feet above the ground, harmonizing with the wedding band playing Taylor Swift and dunking head-first into a river of champagne. She should be laughing hysterically, ripping her clothes off, kissing her new husband until he had no air to breathe. Happiness was an illusion, alright; all these sparkles and jewels, expensive wines and canapes with caviar that she didn’t even like. Sitting static at the bridal sofa, the rich silk grazing her clammy hands, Jung Hyerim felt like she was breathing underwater. Her heart had inflated like a balloon about to blow up, staining the rich carpets and gleaming white walls. She felt like she hadn’t been happy in ninety years, although twenty-five was as long as she’d lived. Jung Hyerim wasn’t happy. On the night of her wedding day, Jung Hyerim was dying.

But not a single patron in the wedding hall could tell. On the outside, she was having the time of her life.

Right in front of her was a celebrity band, one that her father had hired for millions to play on her wedding day instead of the sell-out mosh pit concerts that they performed for on a regular basis. Song after song after song, the band had her head spinning, hands stinging and mouth hurting with all the fake smiles. She didn’t even know the group. She didn’t even like them much. But she didn’t like anyone sitting in the wedding hall, to begin with. If she would make an exception in case she committed a felony tonight, that would be them, the band.

If you had one look at them, you’d know why.

“Champagne?” A waiter’s voice swept into her mind over the sound of the piano-guitar ensemble. Beside her, her husband was looking at her with another crystalline glass in his hands. He was already a little tipsy, she could tell from the way he smiled. A few more glasses for him, she would be walking into fresh hell tonight.

She might as well be numbingly drunk for that. Hyerim accepted a flute of champagne without a word, and had a huge slug of it, no class, no grace.

Her husband snorted from beside her. “Quit drinking like that, Hyerim”

“Like what?”

“Like that” He gestured at her with his glass.

Hyerim glanced at him, took in his sour expression, and had another big mouthful of it just to piss him off. In front of them, the band was singing about star-crossed lovers.  

“Quit it, Hyerim” 

Her husband, with what had to be his thirtieth glass of champagne, was hissing at her.

“You quit it, it's just champagne” She returned under her breath.

“You get drunk on a sip of wine like a wet dog, just quit it”

Hyerim tipped the glass to her lips and swallowed the drink down to its last drop. The sweet, cold liquid stained her chin, dripping down her neck, under the seam of her million-dollar dress, then between her s. He would have a test of it on her skin, tonight.

“You really do want to get drunk like a , don’t you?” Her husband growled in her ear.

“Its my wedding” She lifted her hand, calling the waiter for another. “I do whatever I want”

“Its also mine” His voice was dripping spite as he spoke. “You do whatever I want”

In front of her, the band started playing one of her favorite songs. One that she had danced to with her cat, on long, solitary nights. When she danced with him and sang along, Sugar would lean his little head on the side of her cheek and purred like it was the only way he could tell her that he loved her. And he did love her, she knew that. It was the only reason why he’d let her dance with him like that.

The song was meant to be danced for and danced with in the arms of someone you loved. The singer’s voice carried that sentiment like a far fetched dream. Perhaps the band, the crowd, everyone gathered here tonight, expected her to climb on her feet, take her husband’s hand and dance to the slow rhythm with her head on her shoulder. She couldn’t purr like sugar, of course. But she would have said sweet nothings in his ear, grasp his strong shoulder, the one she’d depend on for the rest of her life, gaze into his eyes, and tell him -not in many words- that she loved him, in all the ways she knew.

That would have been perfect, wouldn’t it?

But that wasn’t Jung Hyerim’s reality, her life. In her reality, the man who should be otherwise loving her and cherishing her, had her hand twisted to her back, his steel grip almost breaking her. For everyone seated before them, the sight would be of the couple holding hands, basking in the sweet sound of music, lost in love. Her twisted, reddening arm will be hidden behind the rhinestones, the sheer size of her skirt. An illusion, indeed.

“Another champagne, miss?” The waiter asked. There was a troubled look in his eyes, but it was obvious, whatever he was seeing, he’d chosen to ignore.

“No” Her husband answered in her stead. “And please don’t ask her again”

The waiter nodded, and went on his way. The song hit its final notes, and Hyerim watched the singer serenading the finale, eyes closed, head thrown back, living and personifying it like it was his own. Her arm hurt so much, she had tears in her eyes. But the world would have thought those were tears of happiness. Just like the song said, she loved him so much.

He let go of her only after the song ended, and the crowd cheered. Hyerim wanted to disappear and never look back again.

“I’m sorry…” her husband’s voice came, a moment later, as she sat examining her twisted hand. If not for the sheer, lace gloves that covered them, the redness and the scars would be visible to the whole world to see.

“It’s just that, I hate when you do what I don’t want you to do”

A sheep one moment, a wolf the next. It was driving her insane.

Her husband’s fingers traced her hand. “Does it hurt?”

It hurt, it hurt like hell. To think that this would be the rest of her night, then the rest of her life; half-baked apologies and endless tears, lies that sound so much like truths and words that never meant what they were supposed to mean. Her parents would never have seen this coming, although she could tell from miles away. It was always the pretty ones that hid their ugly thrones. Hyerim should have known…or perhaps she did. She only had nothing to do about it.

And perhaps it was that pent-up rage which had her retrieving her hand from him, pushing him away. How dare he touch her after he tried to break her, how dare he?

“Don’t touch me” She hissed. It was all she could tell while smiling like the white lie she was.

“Hyerim” He called. But Hyerim did not stay to hear what else he had to say. She wanted to escape, to rage and lose her mind until she found the calm to live this lie again. She wanted to run away.

Picking up her heavy, rhinestone skirt, Hyerim excused herself from the crowd and, cautiously as possible, removed herself from him. She couldn’t rage just yet; for now, it was the epitome of prim and proper. Greeting people she passed, smiling, laughing, laying unsuspecting hands on other people’s arms, bowing deep, telling lies, all until she reached the dressing room. It was empty, save for the other dresses she was to wear for the night, flower bouquets, and the sweet scent of expensive cosmetics and perfumes laying around. She entered the bathroom, dragging her skirt right along with her. The door could barely close with the veil coming in the way like a parasite. 

She stopped at the large, life-sized mirror, hands fisted on her sides. Seeing her, looking at her.

And good lord, she was pretty. She was so beautiful, herself, in the mirror, that she couldn’t believe for a moment it was indeed her looking back at her from the mirror like a complete stranger. Broken people were supposed to look nasty in their reflection like they’d been crying in the rain with mascara bleeding down their cheeks. But Hyerim looked impeccable like she’d walked right out of a fairytale. It made her feel better, in the slightest. She always knew she was beautiful; and that at least gave her the momentum to go on living. But what’s the point of being beautiful now? She could no longer pursue anyone who’d actually love her, even if she still had this face. She was taken, now. Her life was over. What was even the point?

Hyerim the tap, removed her lacy gloves, and held her hands under the faucet for a long time. The gloves did a good job of hiding her like she was a porcelain doll. If they were off, they would have told a different story. The layers and layers of foundation all over her arms and shoulder, the bodice that covered her entire back, her hair done low, hiding her neck. She’s a walking, talking deceit. Did nobody realise that?

Pulling the gloves back on, Hyerim finally collected herself. She gazed at her beautiful face which no longer really mattered. She tried to bring a smile to her lips which appeared to be an arduous task. For a second, she contemplated opening the air vent off the dressing room and crawling out of the building. Then she realized, she was Jung Hyerim of the Jung-Shim dynasty. She would never escape that, no matter how far she ran.

She stepped out of the bathroom, crossed the threshold of the dressing room, the long corridor of the photo area, and was just about to traverse the main hall towards the wedding reception when it caught her eye. Him, more precisely. Standing at the end of the hallway, beyond the open French windows that led to the wide expanse of a balcony. Standing there was a lone, dark figure, an unfamiliar yet impeccable silhouette. She could see the ember of his cigarette in the distance she stood. She easily recognized the long coat, striped and navy blue. She recognized that face. It was him, the singer. The singer of her wedding band.

Oh how fortunate, after he’d sung to her as if it was a wedding of truly star-crossed lovers. It's ridiculous. And perhaps that’s why she found herself striding towards him, dragging her veil and her skirt right along with her like armor for a fight.

He didn’t flinch at her presence. Not even when she leaned against the railing of the balcony, not even as she stared at him, tracing every inch of him.

He wasn’t as handsome as her husband, but that’s probably what made him intriguing. He sang about passion and love in so much fervor that you’d mistake him for a romantic, a charmer, a man who’d steal a lot of hearts, and break even more. But in reality, he stood at the edge of the balcony in the presence of a beautiful woman in a beautiful dress. Not once did he bat an eye in her direction.

“Hi” So she said. She wanted his attention. He was making her want his attention.

“Hi” He replied. A brief glance, a long huff of his cigar, and the scent of expensive tobacco filled the air between them.

Hyerim pursed her lips and stood in a way that displayed her cleavage in his direction. It will be of no use after tonight, so for one last time-,

“I’m the bride,” She said.

“I know” 

“I thought you were still playing” She gestured in the general direction of the wedding hall.

“I was” He tipped his head. “Its band break” A quiet moment, and- “No point playing without the bride”

It was the nicest thing a man had said to her in a very long time. 

“Oh” Hyerim cleared . She gazed down at her twisted hand, she thought about that excruciating pain, not only in her bones but in her heart. “I had to escape for a bit”

“I see”

“In fact” She took a deep breath, moved closer, and brought her voice an octave down. “I want to escape, tonight. For good”

For some reason, his stoicness, the unchanging distant expression made her want to tell him more. He was like a bottomless filter; whatever she said, she’d never know where they’d go.

“Is that weird, that I want to escape?”

“I’m not the judge of that” 

He on his cigar from the corner of his lips, resting it between his teeth. For a moment, she thought she hadn’t seen anything ier than that.

“Do you go to a lot of weddings like that?” Hyerim pushed on.

“Like what?”

“Like, where the bride wants to run away?”

“Not a lot,” He said. “I don’t play at a lot of wedding parties”

“You should” She laughed. “You get to see all sorts of dramas at wedding parties”

“Is that so?” His brows raised, almost reaching his hairline. There’s a certain playfulness in his tone that pushed her to tell him even more.

“Yes,” Hyerim started counting off on her gloved fingers. “There’s the classic ‘groom-leaves-you-at-the aisle, then there’s the mother-in-law who hates everybody including the bride. There’s the unmarried older sister who wants to be the center of attention, there’s the girl best friend of the groom who’s still in love with him…” She folded the last finger and- “There’s the bride who wants to run away on her wedding day”

Hyerim wasn’t sure why she even said that. Did too much champagne make people lose their minds? She could have backtracked and said it was just a joke, but when he smiled, something tangible shifted inside her.  It was the first smile that she saw breaking on his lips tonight, and it was beautiful. 

It was so beautiful that something painful coiled inside her like a poisonous snake. There were so many charming, beautiful men in this world, and Hyerim had never met a single one of them. She had lived in a mansion, always driven back and forth by car, helpers coming at her every beck and call. She had never run across the street, holding hands with a man who smiled like this, she had never kissed someone in a darkened alley under blinking fluorescent light, she had never had a man profess his love to her in the drizzle of the spring breeze. For a moment, for a single, fleeting moment, she wished this single, mysterious man, this one-time encounter, that dreamy twist of fate, was him.

There was a moment of silence. Hyerim leaned further against the railing, folding her arms on her chest. The singer too, his side, leaning on the railing, watching her. His eyes, she realized, were the most unique pair of eyes she had ever seen. They remind her of foxes, the sneaky little ones she had seen in the zoo and on animal planet. But there was something about the way that he held her gaze which also made him hellishly captivating. He tipped his head back, smoked deeply, and a white cloud formed in the air between them.

“My name is Hyerim, Jung Hyerim” She introduced herself, feeling the need to do that. She wanted him to know her, remember her, if he would be the last person to do so. 

“Kim Sung Gyu” The singer bowed his head.

“Kim Sung Gyu…Kim Sung Gyu-Ssi…” Hyerim allowed the name roll out of her lips. Then she turned to him fully, taking over the fair gap between them. “You have a nice name, Kim Sung Gyu-Ssi” A moment of hesitation. “And a nice voice, a nice smile, a captivating pair of eyes”

The singer-Kim Sung Gyu, looked taken aback by her boldness for a second. But a shy smile immediately took over the shocked expression on his face. And oh, he smiled with his eyes! There were beautiful men who could smile with their eyes. This discovery, somehow, broke her heart even more. 

“Why, thank you…” He replied, and appeared a little reserved as he turned away, taking a long smoke. Hyerim thought she saw his hand shake. “Nobody has ever told me that before” he added, glancing at her. “I’m surprised…that its coming from a bride”

Hyerim shrugged, playing with the lace of her hands. “Do you meet a lot of them?”

“Who?” He perked up.

“Brides” 

He shook his head. “Like I told you, I don’t go to many weddings-,”

“Then, women” Hyerim interjected. “Do you meet a lot of women?”

He let out an uncomfortable little laughter. “I do…I mean, they’re everywhere”

“What about beautiful women?” Hyerim pushed on. “The captivating ones. Ones with pretty faces, smiling with their eyes”

“That’s…oddly specific” The ember of the cigarette moved to his lips again. He seemed to contemplate her question, and- “I don’t know, to be honest, Hyerim-Ssi. Aren’t they all beautiful?” Sung Gyu glanced down at her. “They all have pretty faces…I think. And frankly, I don’t know how one smiles with their eyes”

For someone who did smile with his eyes, Kim Sung Gyu was being outrageously modest. Hyerim laughed, making him look at her in befuddlement. She laid her hands on her face, tried to catch her breath.

“You know,” She started once she’d composed herself. “You’d look at me and think I meet a lot of men-,”

“I didn’t-”

Hyerim smiled. “You, as in a generalisation of all the other people I meet in a second person stand point”

“Oh” Sung Gyu laughed.

“Yes, so you’d think I would meet a lot of men in my life. But I don’t. I was raised in this big house with a lot of maids and always driven around by this old man of a driver whom I can’t imagine to be my grandpa let alone a lover-,”

Sung gyu snorted, and this gave her immense joy to continue. 

“So yes, I don’t meet a lot of handsome young men with beautiful faces and captivating smiling eyes. There was not a lot for me to choose from when I had to marry somebody. In fact, I had no choice at all”

Sung Gyu nodded understandingly, and for the first time, Hyerim had a man who was actually listening to her. His eyes were attentive, tracing every inch of her. He was so engrossed that he didn’t seem to realise that his cigar has almost come to an end.

“When I saw you tonight” So she continued without hesitation. “I realised I should have had a choice. I should have always had a choice. There are handsome men with beautiful faces, smiling eyes and who listened to you like you’re the centre of the world. I should have been on a quest of searching for them, right? I should just run away, kiss all the handsome men I meet and see who’d fit me, who’d love me, who would want to take my hand-,”

“And it was our ten minute exchange that gave you this realisation?” Sung Gyu put in, and his mischievous smile sent tingles through her skin. She had never felt more excited before. It might as well been new year for her.

“An Epiphany, yes!” Hyerim nodded and took a step towards him. “You understand what I mean, right? I want to run away so I could see that there are so many other people I could love and would love me, than stay in a marriage that made me miserable”

Sung Gyu’s face changed, just the slightest. His eyes had a depth to them that she thought she could fall into and swim in forever. He stared down at her as if he could see right into her soul.

“Then, why don’t you just do it?” He asked her.

“Do what?” She blinked, although she probably already knew the answer,

Sung Gyu glanced down at his cigar; realising it was already burnt out, he stubbed it against the railing.

“Run away” He said. 

And perhaps, that’s all the intensive she needed. But she also realized she was Jung Hyerim of Jung-Shim conglomerate. They will sweep the world and find her, they will part the ocean to chase her. She had no escaping that.

“I don’t know how to” Hyerim found herself telling him. “It sounds…scary and superficial and-”

Sung Gyu took out another cigar; as she curiously watched him, he held it against the flame of a lighter. It was little, square, and golden, with a fine, intricate embossing of a serpent. The lighter closed with a clink, and he held the cigar between his teeth.

“There’s always a way if you think enough about it, Jung Hyerim Ssi-,” 

He held out a hand out to her.

Hyerim stared down at it, at the way veins protruded on his skin, a thick leather strap of an expensive watch peeking out. It was a hand that she’d give anything to hold. A hand, she thought would never try to break her to pieces. Hyerim reached for it and was shocked to feel the cold silver fall into her palm.

He retreated and gave her a small smile. “You know what you want to do”

With that, followed by a wink, he stubbed the unfinished cigar on the railing and tossed it into the night sky. When he left her to herself on the balcony, against the chilled, spring breeze, conviction settled in her heart stronger than ever before.

Of course, Jung Hyerim knew what she had to do.