Note: Anything in italics is in English. Anything bolded is in Busan dialect.

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Why do they live so high up? Kismet thought as she tapped her foot impatiently on the elevator floor. She checked her watch as the doors slid open. As she walked down the door-lined corridor her mind ran through all the things left on her laundry list. Room 1105.

It had been a month since she first arrived in Seoul. She was studying abroad in Seoul for a work-study program her school offered. Kismet loved the city; it was exactly what she needed. She came from a quiet neighborhood in the suburban parts of New York City. Her love of the city lights only heightened after the many midnight strolls through the busy streets. She could remember the elated feeling that pulsed through her veins when she first arrived. The city life enticed her, drew her in and held her in its welcoming embrace. She remembered the culture-shocked feeling that engulfed her mind.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she smiled at her thoughts. Finally arriving at the door, her finger reached out and pushed the intercom.

The door swing open to reveal a tall, slightly muscular man. He wore an out of place scowl as he turned to look at her.

“Um…ah…ahn-yong-ha…say-yo…” she stumbled as she bowed slightly. Her arms outstretched, held the pizzas out to him. She mentally cursed herself for not practicing her speaking skills. She did perfectly fine when listening and translating Korean, but speech was not her strong suit.

As the grease-covered boxes left her arms, she bowed once again and turned towards the elevator.

“These aren’t the pizzas we ordered,” he said.

Kismet turned back to him in confusion. “I’m sure that’s the right order,” she replied slowly.

“No, it’s wrong. We ordered pepperoni pizza. This isn’t pepperoni,” he stated.

Her tongue stumbled along as she replied carefully, “There’s no mistake. Those were the pizzas my boss told me to bring here.”

An irritated puff of air escaped the man’s lips as he rolled his eyes. “What did they ever teach you? The customer is always right.  This is the wrong order.”

Kismet stared blankly at the man before her. Is he even speaking Korean anymore? She wondered what this man was rambling about.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” she said politely.

“What do you mean you don’t understand? Are you that stupid? I told you, this isn’t the right order! Take it back and bring back the right order!” he yelled.

The frustration boiled in her as she listened to the man yell at her. Having had enough, she her heel and marched back to the elevator. The numbers lit up at a painfully slow rate. She let out a huff as she turned towards the stairs. Her shift had ended ten minutes ago and she was more than ready to go back to her apartment.

The cool autumn air hit her warm face. She felt the relief wash over her as she pulled her keys out of her pocket. Situating herself in her car, she blasted her latest obsession and raced down the street.

Kismet thought of her home back in New York. The brisk autumn weather brought back memories of the busy sidewalks of Times Square. She missed her friends and their weekend outings, the magnificent Broadway productions, and most of all, the festive feeling that surrounded this time of year. Thanksgiving was drawing nearer and she longed to inhale the scent of turkey roasting in the oven.

Reluctantly, she stepped out of her car and made her way back into the pizza shop. As she gathered her things in the back room, the door chimed happily.

“Sorry we’re closed!” she called out. Just as she reached the front of the store, she looked up to find the same man from earlier. “What now?” she asked tiredly.

“The order is wrong, that’s what,” he said angrily.

“Dude, it’s just a pizza! What’s the big deal? You’re wasting my time.”

“I demand a refund for this!”

“You never paid me to begin with,” she muttered.

“The order – “

“Shut up about the order! Just leave already!” she exclaimed, shoving the boxes out of his hands. The pizzas spilled to the floor, splashing the sauce across the man’s shoes.

Silence fell upon the shop as he stared at his white Gucci sneakers. “How dare you! Do you know how much these shoes cost? They’re ruined! I should have you fired! You’re coming with me to buy new shoes!”

Kismet stood, fuming in her spot. The nerve of the guy! He’s such a diva! She opened to retort, but closed it again after deciding that it was not worth the pending lecture. “Fine,” she muttered bitterly. “I guess I owe you that much.”

She followed him to his black Lamborghini and slid into the passenger seat. Kismet fiddled with her phone as they sat in silence. She was brought to attention when the small device vibrated in her hands.

“Hello? Oh, hi mom. Yeah, everything’s great. How’s everything back home? I miss you too. I will mom, don’t worry. Love you too, bye,” she said, her bright voice cutting through the silence. The smile that had crossed her lips faded just as quickly as it had appeared. Her eyes dulled as she leaned her forehead against the window, turning away to hide the tears welling in her eyes.

“God, you’re so irritating,” he muttered, glancing at her silent figure.

Kismet sent him a glare before turning her eyes back to the window. “Could say the same about you,” she murmured.

“What kind of person finds it in themselves to dump pizza on expensive shoes?”

“What kind of person finds it in themselves to yell at a complete stranger?”

“You’re infuriating! To think that a stranger would be a little more polite.”

“I was only returning the favor, thank you very much.”

“If you had just taken the pizzas back, none of this would have ever happened!”

“If you hadn’t made such a big deal out of it, this could have been avoided!”

“YOU’RE SO ANNOYING!” they both exclaimed at each other.

“Do you even know who I am?” asked the man.

Kismet looked at him like he was a lunatic. “Why – no – how would I know you?”

Shock filled his eyes as they landed on her innocent face. “You mean to say, you have no idea who I am?”

She rolled her large eyes at his question. “Of course I don’t. How many people do you know who can name every person in this city?” she asked, fixing the bow that adorned her scrunched bob.

“I’m Wooyoung. I’m part of a boy band named 2PM.”

Kismet stared blankly at him. “A boy band?”

“Yes, a boy band.”

Kismet repressed a giggle as she studied the man sitting beside her. A smile tugged at her lips as she placed her forehead back on the window beside her.

She followed him through the store as he scrutinized each shoe on the shelf. “Are you always so picky? You take longer than my mother on Christmas.”

“Well it has to match with what I’m wearing.”

“Are you sure you’re not gay?”

“Hi, do you need any help?” asked the stores clerk cheerily.

“Yes, could I see this one in a size 45?” Wooyoung asked, handing the shoe to the blushing clerk.

“Why is she gawking? There’s nothing special about you,” mumbled Kismet as she sat down in a chair.

Ignoring her remark, Wooyoung asked, “So how do you intend on paying for this? It doesn’t look like you’re made of money.”

Kismet didn’t answer. Her focus lay with the phone in her hands. Her fingers played with the hem of her black pea coat as she absent-mindedly stared at the small screen.

“Hello?” asked Wooyoung, waving his hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” she mumbled, slipping the device into her pocket.

“You never told me your name,” he stated.

“Does it really matter? It’s not like I intend on seeing you again,” she answered. She could of sworn she saw a brief flash of hurt in his eyes as she glanced up from her lap.

“Still, I’ve told you my name. It’s only polite.”

He has a point. She bit her lower lip as she deliberated upon her next action. “Kismet,” she answered shortly. “My name is Kismet.”

“Kismet, huh? That’s an interesting name. Does it mean anything?”

“Not that I know of. My mom came up with it.”

“How old are you?”

“18, you?”

“21. Where are you from?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Just passing the time. It’s not gonna hurt you to answer them. Like you said, it’s not like we’re ever gonna see each other again.”

“I’m from New York City.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m part of the work-study program here.”

“Which college?”

“Seoul University, I’m a Psychology major.”

“Sorry for the wait, did you want to try these on sir?” asked the clerk as she handed him the box.

“No, that’s fine.”

Kismet followed him to the counter and dug through her purse. Finding her wallet, she pulled out her card.

“It’s fine, I’ll pay for it,” he mumbled as he looked at her.

“No, I ruined your shoes, it’s only fair.”

“It’s not necessary, really.”

“It’s my responsibility as the one who ruined your shoes.”

“Excuse me?” interjected the clerk.

“Oh, sorry,” Kismet said. “Here, use this,” she said, extending her card to the clerk.

They didn’t speak as they went back to his car.

“Should I take you back to the pizza shop?”

“That’s fine, but if you could drop me off in front of my apartment, that would be even better. It’s not too far from here,” she answered quietly. Her hands once again held her phone, turning it over and opening it.

Wooyoung noticed the sadness creep back into her eyes as she stared at the phone. “Why do you keep staring at that phone?” he asked suddenly.

Kismet didn’t answer. She returned her forehead to the cool glass and sniffled.

“Are you okay?” Wooyoung asked worriedly.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered. “Um…I live in the complex next to the coffee shop.”

Silence surrounded them as Wooyoung drove down the road. “What happened to the girl I met before? You know, the one that dumped pizza on my shoes and argued with me?”

Kismet turned in her seat and stared at him. His brow furrowed with worry as he turned to face her.

“What are you talking about?” she asked quietly.

“Ever since we left the store, you’ve been acting…different. Normally you’d be arguing with me by now.”

“Funny thing to say, normally, we’ve only known each other for a couple hours.”

“You know what I mean. Besides, isn’t it more beneficial this way? We don’t know each other, if you were to say something personal, I couldn’t possibly hold it against you in any way.”

She studied his face as his last words ran through her head. Kismet let out a heavy sigh as she slumped back against the leather seat. “It’s nothing. I just…miss home, I guess.”  

“I know what you mean,” mumbled Wooyoung as he made a turn. “So you’re a college student?”

“Yeah, it’s my first year,” replied Kismet.

“Cool. I guess you’ve been partying it up?”

Kismet chuckled softly, “No, that’s not really my thing.”

“Really? You seem like the kind of person who would be really into getting smashed.”

“And how do you figure?”

“Well, you’re insanely uptight – “

“I am not uptight!”

“Fine, you’re very…point taken. But you seem like the kind of person who would be into the party scene.”

“Well for your information, I am not, not here anyways. What about you, a boy band? I haven’t heard one of those since the Backstreet Boys went out of style in the 90s.”

“Who are they?”

“Only the best boy band that ever existed, while they existed anyways.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Boy bands are so 1990s. The new scene is rock bands and solo artists. They’re so much cooler.”

“Rock bands, like the people with bad haircuts and face paint?”

Kismet laughed at his question, “No, that’s the 80s. Nowadays, it’s long dark hair and eyeliner. Oh – and you can’t forget the awesome after-parties.”

“After-parties?”

“Yeah, they’re so crazy. Everyone’s completely smashed by the end of the night. Actually, one time I did meet my – “

Kismet went silent, earning her a worried glance from Wooyoung. “Your?”

“My, well, ex now, but he was the sweetest man I had ever met. He really knew how to make a girl feel special.”

“Well, he must not have been very bright if he broke up with you,” Wooyoung muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, we’re here,” he covered. “Um, thanks for coming along. I was only kidding when I told you to replace my shoes.”

“No worries, it’s not that big a deal.”

Kismet reached for the handle and gathered her things.

“Kismet?”

She turned around quickly and found his lips on hers. Her eyes widened in shock as they parted. She was speechless. Wooyoung smiled shyly and reached for her hand. Slowly, she stepped out of the car and back into the brisk cold. Glancing down, she saw a piece of paper with a number scrawled across it. Call me.

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Happy Christmas! I know you asked for a comedic one shot, but I at trying to be funny. Yeah, I'm awkward like that. ><" But I hope you liked it!

~Emylie<3