My hands are trembling. My feet are cold. I couldn’t think straight. Sitting alone in front of a table in a Japanese restaurant, along with 5 empty chairs, made my heart pump wild. Today, I’m going to meet my husband-to-be.

Three years ago, my parents scolded me for not having a boyfriend. I was too focused in my work (as a high school teacher) that I didn’t find a time to meet guys, nor flirt with them. So, my parents decided that it was time to find me a guy, not just to be my boyfriend, but to be my husband. They have arranged my marriage for me. Geez! How on earth am I going to be able to be comfortable with a guy, especially marry him, if I don’t know who on earth he is?

Today, I’m going to meet him, along with his parents, to finally talk about the two of us. It is not a new thing in our family, about arranged marriage. My mother and father’s marriage was arranged. My grandparents were total best friends that they decided to have their children marry each other. But to their favor, mom and dad’s relationship worked well. And they have me to prove it.

Fifteen minutes into waiting, and finally, my parents arrived.

“Yerin-ah!” my mother greeted with a wide smile. Her happiness overflows at every step.

My dad looks the same: same warm smile on his face, while wearing his comfortable office clothes. My mother is a retired college teacher at Kyeonghee University while my dad works at an electronics company here is Seoul as the head of the Programming department.

My mother sat beside me and kissed my cheek. Dad kissed my cheek first before sitting on the chair beside mom. Excitement is extremely escaping their usual calm façade.

“Yerin-ah, you will be glad to meet this man,” my mom assured me.

I want to scream “HOW WILL I BE GLAD WHEN I DON’T EVEN KNOW HIM!” but I can’t. Instead, I just smiled and bowed my head.

“I’m sorry if we have to put you in this situation, honey,” my dad said. “But I really think it’s about time you find someone who’ll look after you.”

“Dad, you look after e very well. I’ll find…someone…some other time,” I finally protested.

“Yerin-ah,” my mom said with a serious face, “meet this person first. I know you’ll like him.”

“Can you give me a clue then?” I said. “You always said that I will like him, yet you don’t say a word about him.”

“Well,” my mom hesitated, looking at dad before she said another word. “Well, this man is…famous.”

“Famous? In what?” I asked, intrigued.

“You’ll know when you meet him.”

SHEESH! Can’t you just tell it to me!

“I want it to be a surprise,” my mom said, giggling in excitement.

“Here they are,” my dad said, looking at the front doors of the restaurant.

A man and a woman entered the restaurant; they are about my parent’s age. They wore the same formal clothes the three of us are wearing. The man looked calm like dad, and the woman looked jolly like mom. No wonder they want me to marry these people’s son.

I stood up to greet the guests (or are we the guests?), bowing at each of them. They both gave me a warm smile.

“I’m sorry were late. We didn’t know we’ll be stuck in traffic at this time,” the man said before sitting.

The lady looked at me. “You are so beautiful,” she told me.

I blushed. “Thank you,” I said. “By the way, I’m Shin Yerin.”

“My son will like you very much, I’m sure.” Her gaze didn’t leave me. She’s probably examining every square inch of my face, my hair, and my body. This is so awkward.

“When will your son going to be here?” my mother asked the lady.

“He said he’s on his way. He just finished his schedule before going here,” she answered. “By the way,” she said, looking at me again, “what is your work again?”

“I’m a…”

“She’s a high school teacher. She’s very dedicated to work. She wanted to teach at Kyeonghee like I did so she’s working her off to get there.” Ah! Seriously! I don’t know is my mother is complimenting me or dragging me down. “And she’s a good cook.”

“Wow! That’s great. My son loves to eat,” the lady said.

“Oh…” is the only thing that escaped my mouth. He loves to eat? He’s not a slob now, is he?

Then, the four of them have their conversation, excluding me. They talked about life, their children’s work, their work, and some other stuff. I patiently waited for this mysterious person.

“Excuse me,” I cut my mother and the lady’s conversation. I looked at the lady and asked, “What is your son doing nowadays?”

“Well, his busy with their album launch, performing on TV, guest-ing on variety shows and stuff…”

“He’s a singer?” I asked, dumbstruck.

“Yes,” she answered, puzzled. “You don’t know?”

“I didn’t tell her on purpose,” my mother butted in.

“Oh, that’s okay. I didn’t tell about you to my son either. I wanted him to be surprised.” The lady and my mother giggled. “Don’t worry dear, my son will like you. All I hope is you’ll like him to.

I’m hoping the same thing.

So then…I’m marrying a celebrity? Are they serious? I don’t want to meddle around a celebrity’s life, especially marry one. A celebrity’s life, as I see it, is exhausting. They please people; they want people to like them, their work, and everything about them. Not that I hate them or anything, but being them is exhausting.

I stared at the front door. Every time the door opened my heart pump ten times faster.

Then, a guy, wearing clothes that I only see on celebrities on TV, entered the restaurant. He’s wearing a black sunglass over a blank face. His hair was styled perfectly, just like celebrities on TV. He walked quietly towards us. OH GOD! It’s him!

“Here he is,” the lady assured my hunch.

He stopped in front of the table, took off his sunglasses and bowed. “Good evening, I’m Kim Heechul.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

Again, off to a rough start. But I hope you'll like it, nevertheless. Thanks for reading.

~Crina