Saturday morning dawned with relentless cheerfulness, callously disregarding the wishes of the one man in particular who didn't welcome its coming. The early morning sunlight slanting into Ji-hoo's bedroom and falling across his closed eyelids didn't wake him, however. In point of fact, he wasn't asleep, and hadn't been all night. Head and heart had battled each other through the dark hours, and Ji-hoo felt bruised inside and out. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for several minutes before heaving a deep sigh and catapulting himself out of bed. Nothing could stop time. Jan-di's wedding day was here at last.

Though no one would describe Jan-di as timid, the legion of hairdressers and makeup artists buzzing around her in a noisy, scented cloud made her feel like a cornered kitten. Promptly at 7am, they had burst into the large, lavishly decorated room that Jan-di was occupying in the Gu mansion in the days leading up to the wedding. Before she knew it, she had been bathed and powdered, wrapped in a plush robe, and pushed down into a chair in front of the antique dressing table, where she was currently being plucked, brushed, curled, and painted to within an inch of her life. Her pulse rose, and with an effort she reigned in the desire to jump up and run out of the room, scattering beauticians in her wake. She knew that just outside the door waited Madame Kang, her imperious future mother-in-law, holding court with her family and the rest of the wedding party. Fleeing was not an option. Resigned, Jan-di clenched her jaw and waited for it to be over. She definitely didn't want to make any waves with the dragon lady today.

It hadn't been easy, but after all they had been through, Madame Kang had finally come around to accepting Jun-pyo's inexplicable devotion to the unsuitable commoner he had fallen in love with. Far from defeated, however, she had quickly turned her considerable attentions to a new hobby: transforming Jan-di into an elegant, subdued, polished member of the Korean aristocracy. She couldn't turn Jun-pyo's heart toward a woman of her choosing, so she was determined to create that woman out of the one he had chosen for himself. Not that it was going very well. Jan-di's clumsiness, and her penchant for speaking her mind, thwarted Madame Kang's efforts at every turn. Devoted to her work at the clinic and to her family, she rarely had time for the type of black tie affairs Jun-pyo's mother wanted her to attend. And when she did show up, she had a talent for creating chaos. At the engagement party, for instance, where Jun-pyo's mother had hoped to present her to Seoul's high society crowd as a graceful swan, she had flubbed her grand entrance down the majestic staircase when her sparkly heels caught in the train of her gown. She nearly tumbled head over tail to the bottom, more like a duck diving for dinner than a swan. Fortunately, their faithful friend Ji-hoo had stationed himself at the foot of the stairs (probably anticipating just such a disaster, she thought ruefully), and she had landed neatly in his arms, burning with embarrassment, but otherwise unharmed. Her cheeks hadn't been the only ones crimson with emotion, though. Knowing Ji-hoo's heart as she did, she had hurried to extricate herself from his near embrace before things got even more awkward. Jun-pyo, long cured of his jealousy by Jan-di's acceptance of his ring, had thanked Ji-hoo with a brotherly smile and whisked Jan-di off to the dance floor. The rest of the night wasn’t too bad, actually. Despite her literal fall from grace, the party had been more enjoyable than she had expected. People were kinder than the legion of disapproving Kang-bots she had imagined, happy to open their arms to anyone with the Shinhwa stamp of approval, grudging though it may have been.

...

Dragging her thoughts back to the present, Jan-di noticed that the flurry of activity was tapering off. One by one, stylists were stepping back, tilting their heads to admire their work. At last, they were all finished. Smiles lit their faces as they looked at her, nodding in satisfaction. Slowly, she stood, and the crowd parted so she could see her reflection in the mirror.

She gasped softly. "Is that really me?" she wondered. Jan-di knew she wasn't pretty; she'd always known, and had long ago ceased to worry about it, concerned more with her family's next meal and how to pay the rent than with the latest skin treatments and hairstyles. But the girl in the looking glass gave the lie to her casual self-dismissal. Soft black curls brushed her cheeks. Her eyes, framed in pale gold shadow, shone. Her lips were tinted in a delicate shade of rose, and her whole face seemed to glow from within. She didn't look like she'd ever known hunger, or gotten dirty, or roundhouse kicked a school bully in the face. She looked like a princess. Shyly, Jan-di reached a hand out to touch her reflection. A low, appreciative whistle sounded from behind her, and she looked into the mirror to see a pair of rich chocolate brown eyes that sparkled with appreciation staring back at her. Jun-pyo's frank perusal brought a flush to her cheeks, and the anticipation that had been building up in her all morning swelled as she gazed at him, realizing that, despite all the wedding pandemonium, today would end with her in his arms at last.

"The witch sent me to see if you were ready for your dress," he grinned.

"Gu Jun-pyo!" Jan-di chided, "You said you weren't going to call her that anymore!" Under Jan-di's gentling influence, the relationship between mother and son had reached a détente of sorts, with both sides agreeing to lay down their arms and to try to move forward, past the caustic events of the last few years. Though Jun-pyo balked at the idea of forgiving his mother for her cruel deceptions and schemes, seeing how much their broken relationship was hurting Jan-di had convinced him to try. They would never be close, but the atmosphere of open warfare had subsided, leaving behind a cool courtesy. Despite the anguish that she had personally endured at the hands of Kang Hee-soo, Jan-di hoped their wounds would heal in time. Family was family.

"Sorry," he amended, "old habits." She smiled at him in the mirror and saw his eyes grow warm in response. Clearing his throat, he addressed the assembled servants, "You've done a beautiful job. Would you please excuse us for a moment?" Jan-di hid a smirk behind her hand. The "please", too, was a new addition to the man who stood before her, a natural side effect of the growing peace and contentment within him. Thanks to this spirited girl from the poor side of town, he no longer saw a world divided into "us" and "them". After years of casual disdain, everyone had started to matter to Gu Jun-pyo… but no one more than the remarkable woman standing in front of him at this moment with flowers in her hair and fuzzy slippers on her feet.

They were alone now. He stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close in a hug so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. "You know, you commoners clean up pretty well," he teased, dodging a playful elbow to the ribs in response. "Are you ready to promise that you will love, honor, and obey me, Geum Jan-di?"

twitched. "I'm ready to promise that I will love, honor, and thoughtfully consider your point of view before doing whatever I want," she corrected, laughing. His laughter joined hers, and he gathered her closer, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, letting himself bask in the knowledge that the day had finally come. Jan-di was really going to be his forever.

Lightly, he placed a kiss at the nape of her bared neck, and her shiver of pleasure almost undid him. Turning her around, he tipped her face up and gazed at her for a moment before catching her lips in a kiss. What he had meant to be a short peck lengthened and deepened, passion rising up in both of them like a wave, threatening to topple them over. His hands moved over her back, cupping her neck, tracing her spine. She clung to his shoulders like she was drowning. It was Jun-pyo who, with a mighty effort, ended the kiss, gently pushing Jan-di away. Drawing a shaky breath, he stepped back to put some distance between them. "Everyone's waiting," he said. "I'll let my mother know you're ready to get dressed." With that, he straightened his jacket and left the room, a smile curving his lips as he whispered to himself: "Soon."

The church was, predictably, packed. Even though they had rented out the biggest cathedral in Seoul, between family, friends, and the many Shinhwa Group associates who had been invited, the stone walls could barely contain everyone. As Jun-pyo's best man, Ji-hoo waited next to him in the front of the sanctuary, nervously the wedding ring in his pocket. Standing slightly behind and to the right of him, the other two members of the F-4, Song Woo-bin and So Yi-jung, were the only other groomsmen. Despite his unruly thoughts, Ji-hoo appreciated the significance of the moment. The four of them had been through a lot together, and it was unthinkable that any of them would miss this, the joining of their wild-hearted leader with the unusual woman who had finally tamed him. In truth, she had tamed all of them. The coming of Geum Jan-di to the F-4 was like the rising of the sun on a field of ice. Their sharp edges had been melted away, leaving behind the shape of the men who had always been there underneath all the excess. Jan-di was the unlooked-for gift, bringing conscience, courage, and compassion with her. She had gentled the giant Jun-pyo and lit a fire in the ashes of Ji-hoo's cold, controlled heart. That control was all but gone now, burned away in the realization that his life would never be what it could have been if he had been the one to win Jan-di-ah's love. He had played his cards too late, and she had chosen Jun-pyo. Reckless, passionate Jun-pyo.

Ji-hoo had been too slow to realize what he wanted, too tentative to grab hold of her when he could have. Every day since the engagement was announced had been a struggle not to suffocate under the weight of his regrets. Why hadn't he seen her value when it was he, not Jun-pyo, who was the object of her interest? Why had he left Seoul, following Seohyun to Paris like a fool? While he was gone, Jun-pyo had staked his claim, and Jan-di had been his, body and soul, ever since. Ji-hoo sighed, trying to shake off the negative thoughts. He focused instead on calming his outward appearance, struggling to maintain the air of careless insouciance that was his usual uniform. Not that Jun-pyo would have noticed, either way. He was doing his own fidgeting, shifting his weight impatiently from foot to foot, eagerness for the wedding to begin painted like a sign across his face. Looking with wistful affection at the transformed Jun-pyo, Ji-hoo made a vow to himself: whatever he felt, he would make sure that his two best friends in this world experienced only joy on this, the first day of their new life together. It was the one gift he had left to give to the woman he loved.

Suddenly, the first notes of the processional song sounded. The crowd quieted, and both men looked on as, one by one, Jan-di's bridesmaids advanced down the flower-strewn aisle. First came Jae-Kyung, grinning saucily and tossing a wink to Jun-pyo as she took her place at the end of the line. She was followed by Seo-hyun, elegant as always. Ji-hoo smiled at her briefly as their eyes met, his heart utterly free of the madness that had sent him trailing in her wake all those years ago. Having finally experienced love, he recognized his attachment to Seo-hyun for what it was: a boy's first infatuation—heady and intoxicating, but ultimately unfulfilling. The relationship they shared now was the comfortable one of old friends. Jun-pyo's sister, Jun-hee, was next, and she was clearly bursting with pride and excitement. She and Jan-di had instantly taken to each other, and her unwavering support of the young couple had been a source of strength to both of them. Jan-di loved her unni fiercely. Last, blushing furiously under the gaze of all the wedding guests, came Jan-di's most devoted friend, Ga-eul. As she neared the end of the aisle, Ji-hoo saw Ga-eul glance up, catching Yi-jung's eye. She visibly relaxed at what she saw there and took the last few steps with confidence, her face alight. "It won't be much longer before we have another F4 wedding to attend," thought Ji-hoo with an inward smile. Finally, the last notes of the processional faded away, and all eyes turned expectantly toward the back of the church. The sweet, familiar notes of Pachelbel's Canon in D filled the air, and the great oak doors swung open for the bride.

Ji-hoo's heart thumped painfully as he took in the spectacle of Jan-di in her wedding dress, clinging to the arm of her father, who was already in tears. Soft satin folds clung to her body, her tightly fitted bodice giving way to a simple skirt and train, subtly edged with rows of crystals and pearls. Her delicate shoulders and neck were bare except for her cherished moon and star pendant, a gift from Jun-pyo. From behind her diaphanous veil, she wore a radiant smile that nearly took Ji-hoo's breath away. As she floated down the aisle, he glanced up at Jun-pyo and saw on his face a look of such unfiltered love and joy that, despite the crowd all around them, he felt as if he had been caught intruding on a private moment. He quickly looked away, trying to swallow down his own churning emotions.

The ceremony was simple and sweet, like Jan-di. Bride and groom clasped hands and spoke their promises to each other. Jun-pyo's hand trembled as he placed a gold band on Jan-di's finger, and the happiness that blazed from her face as she watched his nervous movements was almost too bright to look at directly. Only Ji-hoo was close enough to see the moisture glistening in Jun-pyo's eyes as he bent his head to kiss his new wife. Just like that, it was done.

Later, at the reception, he stood in the shadows at the edge of the hall and applauded along with the rest of the guests as Jun-pyo and Jan-di shared their first dance together as husband and wife. Looking at them, it was clear that the rest of the room had disappeared from their sight. They gazed into each other's eyes as if they were the last two people in the world. Torn between his friends' happiness and his own misery, Ji-hoo slumped against the wall and tried not to think. Yi-jung found him there twenty minutes later, halfway through his third glass of champagne. "Too much of that stuff gives you a headache, remember," he reminded him with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow. Ji-hoo flashed him a look of irritation. "Look, if you want to drink," Yi-jung continued, "come out with Woo-bin and me afterwards for some soju. It'll be the F4 after party!" Without taking his eyes off of Jan-di, Ji-hoo replied, "Maybe I will." Yi-jung, dropping his mask of forced gaiety for a moment, laid a sympathetic hand on Ji-hoo's shoulder and gave a supportive squeeze before making his way back across the room to Ga-eul. In response to the unspoken question in her eyes, he raised his shoulders in a shrug. He had rarely seen Ji-hoo drink, but something told him he'd be carrying his friend home on his back tonight. He looked like a man in search of a bottle to drown in.

Jan-di was exhausted. It had been a beautiful day from start to finish, a wedding lavish enough to turn the head of any unsophisticated rooftop princess, but the long hours of dancing, greeting guests, and smiling had taken their toll on her. She was punch drunk, high on happiness. Also, her feet hurt. She looked fondly over at Jun-pyo, who was checking in at the hotel's front desk and making plans with the concierge for tomorrow's breakfast in their suite. Despite her weariness, Jan-di's pulse quickened at the thought of her first night alone with her new husband. "Husband," she whispered, and giggled quietly to herself. How surreal it seemed to finally be married to Jun-pyo, after all the hurdles they had overcome and all the heartaches they had endured! At the thought of heartache, though, a little pang pierced her cloud of contentment. She let her mind drift back to the one dark spot on her otherwise perfect day.

As the reception dinner had been winding down, Ji-hoo had risen up from his seat at the head table and rapped on his champagne glass, drawing the attention of the room so that he could give the traditional best man's toast. He looked resplendent in – what else? – a white tuxedo, his coppery hair swept slightly forward and his smile large and genuine as he turned to face Jun-pyo and Jan-di.

The warmth of friendship radiated from his face as he began, "I've known Jun-pyo since we were small children. When we were six years old, Jun-pyo broke my toy robot. Luckily for him, I'm very forgiving." Jun-pyo bowed in mock apology while the guests laughed. "Since that time," Ji-hoo continued, "we've been through a lot together—classes and vacations, times of grief and times of celebration. We've fought and made up many times since the robot incident. We've spent hours talking about everything under the sun. The four of us," he gestured to include Woo-bin and Yi-jung, "have been a family to each other, the only family I had for a very long time." He paused for a moment, focusing his gaze on the table, attempting to pull back on his riotous emotions. After a moment, he looked up.

"So when I tell you that Geum Jan-di is too good for Jun-pyo, you'll know how much that means."

Jan-di started. Jun-pyo gave her hand a gentle squeeze, nodding down at her. "He's right," he whispered in her ear.

She raised her eyes to see Ji-hoo looking at her fondly, and gave an embarrassed smile. He continued, "In truth, you're too good for all of us, Jan-di, but we're glad you made room for us in your life anyway. The girl who tamed the F-4… I can't imagine a better match for my oldest friend." Jan-di's eyes misted and she dipped her head in silent thanks. Ji-hoo's face softened for a moment, and then his mouth quirked as he added, "I hope you saved a few of your famous roundhouse kicks for married life, because I'm sure you'll need them! To the bride and groom, everyone!" He raised his glass, and in the tide of good-natured laughter and shouts of congratulations that followed, Jan-di was the only one to notice the slight quiver in his smile, as if it was a mask in danger of falling off.

It was then that she heard it. Underneath all the merriment and music, a siren went off in her heart. Her firefighter was in trouble, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to help.

...

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