Mi Kyong’s POV

I sat drumming my fingers against the table in front of me watching as the vibrations broke the surface of my coffee. I sigh and look down at the floor to observe the refraction of light through the prism at the corner of the glass table. It was almost 9:00 a.m. now, I had been waiting for 15 minutes already.

Silently, I reflect on my changes over the years. Before, when I was still Mi Kyong, 15 minutes would have been no big deal to me at all, after becoming engrossed in my business, I’d become accustomed to the privileges of having everyone wait for me, being the one to set the meeting times. Still, it was a humbling experience to wait for someone, or I should say two someones who are very important to me.

“Excuse me miss, would you like a cream pastry? They are our specialty.” A handsome waiter asks me; bring a small sample for me to try. He was dressed prim and proper in his brown and white uniform and the scent of a new worker, eager to please drifted off him.

“No thank you.” I say, watching as his eyes fell slightly. His smile doesn’t falter however and he straightens himself up.

“Let me know if you change your mind.” He says with a dazzling smile and with that, he walks away from my table. I smile at his tenacity, reminding me much of myself in my high school days. I lean back into the brown leather seat and close my eyes absorbing the sunshine.  I blink and look at how the pastel walls were accented by small pieces of art placed carefully around the room.

This is how I want my house to look. Modern, with all its sleek characteristics, yet still warm and giving off a homey feeling, I guess I should say, contemporary? My home. A frown comes over my face as I ponder who  really want my home to be with. No, Mi Kyong, you’ve come much too far to let your heart waver now.

I open my white leather bag and look at the cream envelopes containing the invitations to the wedding. My wedding. I finger the gold lettering, Mr. and Mrs. Woo.

Flashback

“When we get married, I want to have pink invitations with flowers on them.” I tell Jonghyun.

“No way! Pink is for girls. We should have blue race car invitations!” Jonghyun tells me.

“Hey! That’s no fair, how come we always do everything you like?” I argue back, pouting at him.

“Arasso, arasso. We’ll have pink invitations with race cars on them, deal?” He says and I laugh. He pinches my cheeks and says, “Aigoo, see? You look less ugly when you smile! So always smile for oppa.” I beam up at him.

I smile at the memory but quickly shake it out of my head. Why was I even thinking about Jonghyun when I was getting married to Kevin? “Babo, babo, babo.” I say, hitting myself on the head, squeezing my eyes shut so perhaps I could squeeze out all my thoughts on Jonghyun.

“What are you doing?” A male voice in front of me asks accusingly. I look up to see a tall shadow and block the sunlight with my hands.

“What, don’t tell me you don’t recognize me!” Another male voice says from behind him. My eyes finally focus into place.

“Key!” I say hugging the person in front of me and Key hugs me back. “Taemin!” I address the boy standing directly behind Key. Well, no longer a boy, Taemin is now standing in front of me in all 179 cm of his glory. I turn to embrace him and he wraps his arms around me.

“Sorry we were late; Key walked by someone and got his shirt stuck in the zipper of a foreigner’s backpack. It took us 20 minutes to get them untangled and all sorted out.” Taemin says chuckling.

“The foreigner looked super flustered and confused.” Key says smiling a little bit at the thought of the incident.

“That’s why you should wear less dangly clothes. It attracts too much attention anyways.” Taemin says teasing