“Oppa!” Hyeyoon moans insistently, holding onto Seunghyun's arm and tugging down on it. “Please!” I don’t know why she keeps calling him Oppa but when I watch Seunghyun’s face I can see him weaken a bit when she says it.
     He speaks back to her in rushed Korean quietly. From the tone of his voice I can tell he’s trying to get her to stop. Maybe he’s embarrassed?
     “Dude! Please take me to your recording studio!” Sean begs him from the kitchen while fixing himself something to eat. 
     “We’re going shopping in-“ my mother turns to Seunghyun’s mom with one hand on the doorknob. “Where is it?”
     “Hong-dae,” she pronounces clearly.
     “Hongdae! You kids have fun, okay?” she waves and grabs Seunghyun’s mother’s hand and they leave the house.
     “Bye” I say.
     “Bye” says Sean.
     “Oppa! Please!” Hyeyoon repeats herself.
     “Noona, wae!?” he pouts and stomps his feet lightly where he stands trying to shrug her off of him by shaking his arm limply and she presses her cheek firmly onto his arm, looking up at him with big eyes. He sighs and looks over at me who is still sitting on the couch. “She wants to take you shopping so bad but I told her you shouldn't move,”
     I stand up now and make my way over to them both. “I would love that! Seunghyun-it’s been a few weeks, I’ll be fine as long as I don’t take the subway and have to walk everywhere. We can take your driver right? I mean…I don’t ask for much,” I say with a small laugh. Hyeyoon gets excited at this, dropping Seunghyun’s arm and taking both of my hands in hers and gasps as if Seunghyun has already approved. “Really, I’m going crazy being locked up in here. Let me go master!” I say dramatically. 
     He sighs heavily and finally says, “Fine,” I could sense from his demeanor earlier that this would have been the answer anyway. He can’t tell his older sister what to do.
     “So is that a yes?” Sean asks, shoving a ball of rice into his mouth.
.               .               .
     “I ,” Hyeyoon says while rooting through her purse with her only free hand, her other hand carrying all of our bags. “He’s younger, but not by much so I make him feel old. I call him Oppa,” she says complete with an adorable giggle. She thinks she’ so bad. “But I think he loves it. Deep down I think he….wants to be older brother to me,” she finishes. 
     Walking around the shopping district, we take in the sights over the busy stores and steaming street food vendors. We of course, went to my favorite shopping destination-Myeongdong. 
     Honestly, aside from idols being plastered on everything, the only reason I like it so much is because make-up is always fun to look at. I own tons of it and use hardly any of it. Every time I see something new and fun to use though (and if its on sale) I can’t help but buy it.
     That, and the stores are so bright. Window shopping is a hobby of mine (which often turns into just plain shopping).
     So we went to Etude House, The Face Shop, The Seam, Nature Republic-you name it, we went into it. Everything I tested and so much as made a giddy noise over, she would turn my face to her, nod in approval and snatch one of the non-tester versions of the item, putting it in her shopping bag.
     In short-I pretty much own everything now and I didn’t spend a penny. I don’t think I have anymore reasons to go to Myeongdong now except for the occasional movie. I told her she didn’t have to but she said, “Gift!” and I could tell that there was no way I was going to be allowed to debate it.
     Eventually she finds what she is looking for in her purse. She pulls a compact mirror out and examines her face. Satisfied with what she sees, she stuffs it back in her purse and wraps her arm around mine.
     “In America, ah-Girls and holding arms is gay, right?”
     “Not really,” I say. “But we don’t tend to do it often,”
     “In Korea, best friends…aish!” She smacks her forehead a few times in distress. 
     “It’s okay! Take your time,” I giggle.
     “Best friends always holding arms and hands!” she says happily.