Archive of Our Own

Seongbuk-gu, 1 April 1997.

“Ahjussi!!!” Han Sooyoung barrelled her tiny body right into the back seat of the black sedan that had been prepared for her, and slammed the door shut with all the force her tiny arms could muster. She looked up, expectant, at the only other person in that car.

The driver – a man well past his prime with his thinning white hair, his equally white handlebar mustache, and a face that was prone to wrinkle – only spared her a glance from the corner of his eye as he humored her, goodnaturedly. “What is it, young mistress?”

The young girl pouted, puffing her round cheeks. “Ahjussi! I told you my name is Sooyoung! Not… mis- misstwess or whatever!”

He let out a small laugh, the kind that would only be audible if you were looking for it. “Yes, yes. Sooyoung-ssi. Did something exciting happen at school today?”

Sooyoung, satisfied with the change of address, had beamed a toothy grin that stretched her entire face wide.

Then, with the air of a hardened expert, she prattled on. “Ahjussi, do you know what birthdays are?”

“Hmm. I do believe it is a special occasion where we celebrate our births, Sooyoung-ssi. It is also a time where we officially gain another year of our lives, though here in Korea, we already celebrate that with every New Year’s.”

She nodded sagely. “If you say so, then teacher Lee’s explanation must be correct.”

“Today, that Bae Jinwoo kid gave out chocolate to everyone in the class because he said it was his birthday…” Sooyoung grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I didn’t get any!”

She raised both fists and pumped them in anger, her tiny legs bouncing against the car seat. 

“That’s terribly rude of him…”

“Right!! He said it was because I was mean!! But I was never mean to him…” She grumbled some more. “So I told him, when it’s my birthday I’ll get everyone but him chocolate! But I don’t know when my birthday is… So I asked the teacher, but she didn’t know either! Ahjussi, do you know it?”

They stopped at a red light. The driver took the opportunity to look back at her, and he seemed almost… sad? Sooyoung didn’t get it, but it made her feel a little uncomfortable. 

“Apologies, young mistress. I don’t think I know it either.”

Sooyoung slumped over the seat, letting one leg dangle over in a fit of dramatics. “There must be someone who knows!! Or maybe Bae Jinwoo was right… I must be an alien, that’s why I never have birthdays for all these years… I’m not from here!”

The light turned yellow. The driver, still looking a bit uncomfortable, continued. “Perhaps you could ask Sir or Madam when they come home this weekend?”

Her mood only seemed to sour at that. “Those two never talk to me. They’re always too tired and just sleep in their rooms all weekend.”

The two continued the rest of the ride in silence. Han Sooyoung laid on her back and watched as the highway lights went by in a flurry. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

Apgujeong-dong, 1 April 2001.

Han Sooyoung had turned nine. She knew this because all the other kids in her class turned nine the moment the clock struck twelve on the first day of 2001. That’s how age worked after all, how it had always worked. However, she can’t help but feel bile rising to her throat when Cha Jinhye, her classmate, had merrily invited the whole class to her upcoming birthday party this Sunday, on April 2nd. Sooyoung didn’t hate Cha Jinhye, really. She was nice enough, even to her. She knew the invite was mostly out of obligation, and she hadn’t liked crowds much and her class had never really liked her. But she liked Jinhye enough; she gave Sooyoung a cute character pen once, when they were seat buddies. So she thought she could just swallow her discomfort and jealousy of celebrating a day you knew you were born on and said yes, she would go.

And so Sooyoung worked up the courage to broach the subject that Saturday, with the woman who was supposed to be her mother, just as she was fixing herself in front of the full body mirror. The woman – who would scrunch her nose in distaste whenever Sooyoung even tried to mention the word “mother” in her presence – had only nodded and hummed upon hearing her little story.

“Sure. Just tell the driver to drive you tomorrow.” She fixed the hem of her long red dress, which glimmered under the dim chandelier lights. Sooyoung took the chance to look around, as she was rarely ever allowed inside; she looked at the gaudy red canopy bed, which matched unpleasantly with the drooping red curtains and carpeting, and squinted at the golden chandelier hanging overhead. It looked more like a gaudy overpriced hotel suite than an actual bedroom someone would regularly sleep in. Although with the way things were, Sooyoung thought it was quite fitting. 

She paused to take a breath, and tried to work her way in.

“Thank you. Then um, can I also invite her here on my birthday?”

The hand that held the comb her supposed mother seemed to cherish froze mid-air, just above her smooth silk pressed and meticulously styled hair. The passing seconds felt like an eternity.

“I’ll give you some money to buy a nice gift for her today.” Her tone had remained obnoxiously even as she continued. Sooyoung couldn’t see the reflection of her face, but she understood the message: Don’t bring it up ever again.

Of course Sooyoung’s date of birth would be a sore spot for this woman.

Sighing, Sooyoung caved. “Fine.”

“Don’t stay out too late.” Don’t give the world a reason to associate you with me.

Sooyoung was all bundled up in the car. She’s gotten Jinhye a nice art set that cost nearly just the exact amount of money that was given to her. So she was done now, but she still felt down. This had been the first time she’d been invited to a birthday party, and she had thought that Jinhye’s birthday would be the gateway to answers about her own. But clearly, she’d underestimated ‘mother’ – Sooyoung may be the smartest kid in class, but maybe she was still not smart enough.

“What’s got you down, young miss Han?” The driver – still the same as he had been four years ago – had asked her as he got into the driver’s seat.

“It’s nothing, Mr. Koo.” Sooyoung bit back, because she could do that with him. “I don’t feel down at all.”

“Is it your mother? Did she say something?” His voice teetered carefully, as though he knew where this line of questioning would bring him.

Sooyoung opted to stare out the window instead of looking at him, the bitterness seeping into her tongue. “She’s not my mother.”

Mr. Koo had only sighed, perhaps in pity, as he started the car and drove slowly out of the parking lot.

“And it’s more like she won’t say anything.” Sooyoung didn’t expect that to come out of her mouth, but once it did she couldn’t seem to stop. “She just pretended not to hear me.”

He kept his eyes on the road, but they seemed to be focused on something else entirely. After a few turns, he broke the silence that had accumulated. “Young miss, do you want to make a quick detour to the Civil Registrar’s office with me?”

Han Sooyoung sat up at the mention of a trip, blinking owlishly at him. It was the first time her driver had personally suggested it, despite her persistently asking to be taken somewhere, anywhere since she was in his care.

The driver had explained everything to her on the way that he would try and find her records for her to find out. Records, he said, were very important papers detailing every information needed on every Korean person that was born there. And they keep these records, he would further explain, at these small office buildings, which was where they were going. So of course, Han Sooyoung, being a born and raised Korean, would naturally be able to know when she was born from them.

However when they got to the help desk, they found out that this was not the case. 

The clerk – clearly overworked with bags of folded skin very much visible under his bespectacled eyes – tried turning them away with a flat look on his face. “The young miss over there is registered as an adoptee. According to the law, she is not permitted access unless the adoptive parent dies, cannot be found, or if she’s got some medical condition that warrants it.”

Han Sooyoung didn’t fully understand what he was saying, but could only assume it to be a bad thing with the way the driver’s face fell for a moment. Of course, this meant she could only take matters to her own hands. 

She looked up at the desk with determination, standing on her tippy toes and clung to it with her hands. Then, she spoke with the saddest tone she thought to use. “Ahjussi, I don’t need the file. I just want to know my birthday. My mom won’t even tell me.”

Sooyoung hadn’t liked that word, but even being as young as she was, she knew that there were  things you just had to simplify to other people  –especially adults– when you speak to them. She also learned –from watching her two “parents” on television– that you can get away with a lot when you appeal to people’s sympathies.

The young registrar had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, before he immediately got to work. “Han Sooyoung-ssi, was it?”

She nodded.

He sat down in his metal chair and began to leaf through several manila folders in the drawer before eventually unearthing the one they were looking for. “Han Sooyoung-ssi. Born on April 1st, 1993… In Seongbuk-gu, Seoul.”

“Would that be all?” He yawned. His dreary voice carried through the empty halls. The place seemed to be practically deserted, it was probably nearing the end of their office hours.

Sooyoung stood perfectly still. 1st of April. That was today. She felt a little odd about it. She wondered if her “mother” even knew, when she’d sent her away.

She said nothing and walked out the room, lying on her back on the backseat of the car. Mr. Koo dutifully drove her home, arriving just before curfew and gently shook her awake. As soon as she hit her bed, she felt a wave of tiredness washing over her and slept like a log.

The next day, she arrived late to the party, just as the last of the guests were clearing up. Han Sooyoung was about to feel bad, when she realized this was just how she preferred it anyway. Cha Jinhye had accepted the gift politely– as though it was not what she really wanted, and gave Sooyoung a slice of cake to eat on the way home.

Han Sooyoung had sat there in the driveway to finish her cake – because Mr. Koo didn’t want ants in the car– watched as the crowd fizzled out of the yard and into their own cars, and thought: maybe she’s made too much of a big deal out of this birthday thing.

Garosu-gil, 1 April 2006

Sooyoung had slumped right into the back seat of her black sedan as soon as the car door had been opened to her, not caring about the way her uniform was getting bunched up and wrinkled. She then took off the black face mask by force and threw it on the carpeting, groaning. The day had been particularly hellish and unnecessarily exhausting – she had to walk around with a fucking facemask on and a bodyguard subtly tailing her (disguised as everyone from a janitor, to the cafeteria staff, to the admin staff and she just couldn’t not notice) as if she was some mega celebrity or something.

Her “father” was running for the 2007 election and had been steadily working on his campaign since the beginning of the year. And by “campaign”, it mostly just meant he was desperately trying to cover his tracks out of paranoia – which naturally included Han Sooyoung herself. Sooyoung had tried to argue with him about this (keyword: tried), saying that nobody even knew she existed anyway. But he had never been the type to listen to others – as was typical of politicians – and had only firmly told her to do as he said. 

The bodyguard who now doubled as her driver – and thus, replaced Mr. Koo– sidled casually into the driver’s seat and started the engine, but not before he pulled down the dark curtains over the windows with the single push of a button. Han Sooyoung was about to be driven mad.

As if that wasn’t enough, her sleeping problems had gotten even worse lately. It all started just a little over a year ago, around the time she started writing. Sooyoung would swear up and down that she’d fallen asleep on time, and by the time she’d woke she should have slept enough, and yet it had always felt like she hadn’t really slept at all. She’d wake up exhausted and out of breath, sometimes dehydrated – as though she had just run a marathon.

She started joking, to herself and to her devoted fanbase of online readers, that something must’ve possessed her every night and gave her the inspiration she needed to write throughout the day. This of course resulted in her sleeping through more than a few classes, but whatever. No one cared enough to scold her on it anyway. Sooyoung had no incentive to do well on things other than the very few that made her feel alive, like writing and… dunking on strangers’ comments online.

With very few things to keep her attention and the exhaustion weighing over her, Sooyoung soon drifted into a dreamless sleep and distinctly remembered feeling as though she was fading away.

By the time she’d woken up, her eyes were met with the very familiar ceiling of her living room – something she came to know deeply after all those years of lying there and staring at it. She jolted out of the couch and fell to the carpeting. It was dark all around her, which means they hadn’t turned on the lights even though it was quite dark out. The closed curtains – courtesy of her “father”’s paranoia – certainly didn’t help either. It must’ve been just a little around 6 pm. As though on cue, her tall ageing bodyguard soon walked in, then just stood there with his hands clasped at the front.

“How long have I been out?”

The bodyguard looked up briefly in contemplation. “About 15 minutes, miss.”

“Bullshit, 15 minutes. Last I remember doing was sleeping in the car. And it takes at least an hour to get here from school.”

“You certainly did sleep in the car, but then you woke up and immediately asked me to go to a certain bakery. You bought a cake, and said that it was for yourself. After all of that was done, you fell asleep the moment you got here.”

Sooyoung could only look at him as though he’d grown three heads. “I don’t remember doing all that.”

“The cake is in the refrigerator, I believe.” The bodyguard continued, in that particular tone of his that she still couldn’t get used to. He had been eerily similar to Mr. Koo, but she felt as though she could never really see through him, which was a little unsettling. “You said to remind yourself by the time you got home, because you’d definitely have forgotten.”

Of course she could not believe him because why the fuck would she of all people buy herself cake on a whim? On such a random day too? She hadn’t even hit her milestone for her web novel. What was there to even celebrate? With that, she immediately rushed to the kitchen – clinically clean and empty – and opened the refrigerator door with a bang.

And there she saw it – a singular cake box with her name written neatly on it. The box looked familiar, it seemed to be from a rather upscale bakery from Garosu-gil she’s passed one time. She remembered longingly looking at one of their cakes that time, when she’d been out to do… something and thought it looked very nice to eat. But she didn’t even remember what she was doing there, or when this had happened. She wouldn’t have even remembered the store if she hadn’t seen this box again and she certainly didn’t think of buying cake or anything today, certainly not from a store all the way in Garosu-gil…

Sooyoung had been mildly spooked. She’s had those… episodes where she would have spotty memories and missed hours of her life doing what she assumed to be zoning out, but… this was something else entirely. Her hands trembled as they carefully opened the box, letting its walls fall away, revealing… the very cake she had now remembered she wanted that day.

It was a singular slice of a lemon and blueberry cheesecake, with mouth-watering whole blueberries upon its surface, the purple puree oozing out tantalizingly against the soft yellow cake. On top, was an artistically placed and tastefully portioned dollop of whipped cream and a beautiful slice of lemon comfortably leaning within it. In front of it were two small candles, shaped in the numbers “14”.

Sooyoung could only gape at the sight. Perhaps she did buy it for herself after all. She could feel her mouth watering.

The bodyguard, as though knowing she needed it, handed her a lighter and with it, she lit the candles. 

Wordlessly, he took the lighter out of her hands and bowed. “Happy birthday, miss.”

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” He turned and left the room, left the house, left Sooyoung alone with her thoughts, in the dark.

Sooyoung continued to gaze at the birthday cake before her – the candlelight seemed to emanate an odd sense of warmth.

Right, it was her birthday. 

For some inexplicable reason, Sooyoung felt the urge to cry – an urge she hadn’t entertained for most of her short life so far. This odd small act of kindness –whose warmth eluded the possibility of it ever being something she’d done for herself, and yet at the same time, could only be something that came from herself– was just nearly enough to drive her over the edge.

Throughout the years, Sooyoung had consistently tried to forget her own birthdays. On some days, she would succeed and it would just feel like any other day. On others, she’d remember and would have to urge herself to forget. Otherwise, it would’ve been too much, and Sooyoung didn’t like to do much… or feel much, for that matter. It was much better to forget, to channel all those indescribable things between the lines of her cliched web novel and just leave them out in the world without anyone knowing.

Perhaps, Sooyoung had thought to herself – almost foolishly, and pathetically – that it was probably good that she could black out sometimes, that she could somehow cut parts out of her own memories. She could give herself her own little surprises, and she’d feel content.

She made a little wish to herself –one that she’d have forgotten all the coming years after– and blew the candles out, falling back into darkness.

—

Gwanak-ro, 1 April 2012

It was late. Okay, maybe not that late. It was only 2.05 AM. Sooyoung assured herself as she glanced at the digital clock on her annoyingly minimalist desk. She stared at her notebook PC, unblinking. She had an essay due in about eight hours. If she’d foregone sleep, she could definitely finish it on time. The paper counted about 30% of her final grade. She did the math. Her attendance wasn’t great, and this professor hated her so bad that he “could just die”. Well he should just die, then. She had thought in annoyance. Anyways, the point was that she would definitely have to repeat this class if she couldn’t submit in time

Sooyoung leaned back on her shitty office chair, balancing herself precariously with one leg on the floor and the other on her desk – which was clearly a very safe position to be in – before eventually falling flat on her back with a crash, along with the chair. 

A groan escaped her. She had to write it now, but she was so fucking exhausted. She wasn’t usually like this. This relatively simple essay would’ve taken her about 4 hours to do, give or take. But Sooyoung hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, maybe even months, with all her deadlines for uni courses and her web novel. 

She was at this critical juncture where her writing skills were being put to the test; in which its quality would either make or break her entire career. Web novel readers – in her experience– were fickle creatures, who would be easily swayed along the changing tides of trends. However, they were equally vicious in nature – claiming the need for supposed originality to gain a sense of superiority over readers of other novels. So clearly, Sooyoung’s schedule had been all over the place. And her chronically poor sleep quality didn’t make it any better. To make matters worse, she’d been blacking out much more often than she would’ve liked these days – her dreams bled into her reality and she’d have trouble telling night from day.

Sooyoung sighed as she made no effort to get up from her cold hard flooring. Her hair –somewhat matted in some places and sticking out in some others– had provided some well needed cushioning and insulation, making it very comfortable to lie on. To prevent herself from drowsing, she’d taken to count the odd markings of the ceiling of her one bedroom student apartment. It was much smaller than what she was used to, but Sooyoung had never really liked that dull empty mansion in the outskirts of the wealthy Seongbuk suburbia. It hadn’t been an impulsive decision, Sooyoung herself knew that her “parents” had been itching to get rid of her; It had been planned the moment her mother was rushed to the maternity ward. Once she hit that 19 year mark, she was officially no longer anyone’s liability but her own. 

So Sooyoung had of course taken the initiative, desperately scrambling to incorporate fan favorite cliches and overused tropes that never seem to get old – no matter how much one tried to “subvert” them – into her shitty web novel that she’s written since she was 15. She had to make money no matter what, she had to get out of there no matter what. And got out, Sooyoung did. As soon as she hit her milestone, she took with her a single luggage and her notebook PC, and immediately moved into a small one bedroom apartment near the university she’d enrolled in – all paid with her own hard earned money. Granted it had been comparatively humble, but Sooyoung didn’t care. She just wanted a place of her own. 

Somewhere along the lines of counting the 37th odd mark on her ceiling, she’d found herself starting to drift. Desperate, Sooyoung tried to fight it, tried to get her body to move itself out of the comfort of slumber, to break free from the constraints of her consciousness. But of course, she failed. 

And as the last remaining shreds of consciousness left her body, she remembered thinking. Fuck this.

—

The sun had been all up in her face the moment Sooyoung opened her eyes. Fuck . She thought as she scrambled out of her bed and toward the PC sitting on her shitty desk. How could she even think to tuck herself in when she had a deadline –

Sooyoung blinked, then rubbed her eyes roughly with the hem of her hoodie, then blinked again. She refreshed the page. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

The submission page on their crappy e-learning site – as crappy as a SKY university’s site could get– had clearly told her in bold green letters: “Assignment Submitted. 06:05 AM.”

She downloaded the document she had apparently uploaded, and opened it to check. After skimming for a while, she was sure she’d definitely written this; the diction, the sentence structure, her perfect citations, the flow– There was no mistaking it. 

Sooyoung felt her knees going weak. Did she somehow forget about writing an entire essay? And submitting it two hours early to boot. This felt familiar somehow, though she couldn’t really be assed to remember why at the moment. Her head was hurting, probably an aftereffect of the all-nighter she supposedly pulled. For some reason, her gaze felt drawn to her right and as she allowed herself to follow it, she was met with a single tablet –of what she could only assume to be a painkiller– placed on a plate and a tall glass of water to drink it with. 

Just as she was about to drink it, she noticed the note that was stuck beneath the glass. 

Eat some breakfast before you drink this. It had read in clear bold lettering she instantly recognized as her own, only slightly neater.

Sooyoung scurried to the small pantry she would usually just use to cook instant ramyeon in and found a plastic takeout bag on the counter. She opened it and to her surprise, there was another note inside. 

This is seaweed soup, it can be heated with the pot you used for ramyeon yesterday. 

Seaweed soup… Then it could only be –

Sooyoung fished out the phone in her hoodie pocket. 2 April 2012. Huh, so she missed her birthday again. It was nothing special, she’d sometimes remember and sometimes forget; and with the passing years, it mattered less and less.

So the sudden appearance of this soup had been terribly confusing, and somewhat upsetting. Sooyoung knew why people ate seaweed soup on their birthdays, but she was not one of those people. She could not fathom a world where she could believe that she would ever feel grateful for the woman who birthed her. It’s why she’d refrained from eating it, even on casual occasions. She hated what it represented.

However, just as she was about to toss both the note and the soup in the trash, her index finger felt the flap on its back and promptly unfolded it, thus revealing the continuation of that message.

While we cannot be grateful for the person who brought us into the world, there is still value in being grateful for the mere act of having been born. Happy birthday, Han Sooyoung.  

What the hell. Did her delirium last night turn her into some sappy philosophy student or something?

Still, Sooyoung’s stomach had been growling menacingly for a while now. And the soup, while cold, still smelled incredibly appetizing. So really, she couldn’t find much use in arguing with her past self any longer.

She heated the soup in the shitty cheap pot she got on sale – which had been mysteriously cleaned off of yesterday’s ramyeon stains – and set it down on the counter to eat slowly. She had to blow on each spoonful several times – a consequence of her cat’s tongue – and tried not to enjoy the soothing warmth that lingered along the lines of her throat and stomach too much.

Sooyoung would not admit to herself that it’s the warmest she’s felt in years.

Dosan-daero, 1 April 2015

Sooyoung rapped her recently manicured fingers upon the wooden table, almost rhythmic in its persistence as she stared at the singular checkmark on her most recently sent message in her Katalk group. She continued to fix her gaze on it, as though it would somehow compel her friends to respond. 

A few minutes passed. 

Sighing, she eventually put the phone down and took a sip of her cocktail – a dark red purple concoction served in a tall dainty champagne flute, elegantly decorated with a few rose petals. Non-alcoholic, just in case. She’d tried not to be pessimistic, but–

Whatever. It was a necessary precaution. Brought out along with it, was a reasonable portion of thin crackers, plated delightfully with the precision and care befitting of a 4 star restaurant. They were both absolutely delectable, as was expected of a place she’d found from hours of research. 

She leaned her back into the dark cushion of her seat, taking in the full view of the bar. She’d gotten them a sort of corner table, not too far from the bar counter and positioned in just the right angle that would optimize the potential for multiple SNS worthy pictures. The bar had an elegant yet cozy feel to it with its draping curtains, velvety carpeting, and tastefully selected furniture. Its dim warm lighting and its finely crafted rustic wooden counter and shelves gave it a nice warm atmosphere that wasn’t easy to replicate. To top it off, the interior and plating had been largely inspired by an almost fairy tale-like motif, giving it a dreamy and memorable impression. Overall, it was a charming little hole-in-the-wall place that was sure to impress most of its first time goers and based on Sooyoung’s cursory research, would match well with the eclectic tackiness of her friends’ tastes while still appealing to their finer sensibilities.

So really, Sooyoung thought she had it all figured out. And even if her friends were all kinds of shit sometimes, they were usually more or less willing to go for a few rounds of drinks regardless of the occasion. And Sooyoung had been sorely in need of more than a few rounds of celebratory drinks.

She’d finally made it big with her web novel, her rankings reached an all time high and it became one of the most searched and widely read web novels in all of Starpia, she’d finally amassed a large and consistently supportive fan base and the publishers had called her this morning to talk about renewing and upgrading her contracts, and how they’d planned to get e-books and physicals out some time this year. There were also talks of a webtoon adaptation being made and a live action was being considered as well. 

When Sooyoung got the call, she felt like she was soaring among the stars above. While this development had been fully within her realm of expectations – as she was confident of her skills and capabilities as a genius author – to actually experience it at the present moment was something else entirely. 

As she sat there in a daze, Sooyoung briefly fantasized of seeing SSSSS-Grade Infinite Regressor on the silver screens and wondered who’d they cast for the role of her protagonist. Personally she’d be ecstatic to have Yeo Jingoo on set, imagining how well he’d pull off the catty bitchiness that became the trademark of her trash baby Yoo Joonhyun. Lee Joongi would be good too, but he was a bit too old—

Anyways, she digressed.

Long story short, she was practically living the dreams of every web novel author out there. To top it off, it had coincidentally been her birthday as well, so naturally, she would want to celebrate this with the people she was currently closest to. She wasn’t really the type to celebrate her birthdays so grandly, or to involve others in it, but she thought she’d try this year– if only because of all the milestones she’s made in her career as of late. 

She’d even offered to pay for all of them – something they all knew to abuse well every time each would offer for the others. She’d even made sure to notify them within that precarious time window where it was early enough to ensure they’d have no excuse on flaking, but also not too far ahead that she’d come off as too eager, and recent enough that it wouldn’t get buried in the chat. 

Sooyoung stared at the time on her phone. It had been nearly an hour and her friends were still a no-show. She wanted to give them the benefit of doubt, even if she knew this was a weekend and they usually had no other plans. Maybe they’d been stuck in traffic or something, Gangnam was getting a bit crowded these days after all.

[FAKE GANGNAM BITCHES ONLY]

Sooyoung .
I’m here.

There. It didn’t come off as too desperate and made it seem as though she just got here too, gave her that leeway of detachment.

However, it soon became clear that she’d overestimated them as her phone vibrated with the following notifications:

[FAKE GANGNAM BITCHES ONLY]

QUEEN CONSORT CHO
????

 

Cha Hee Joo Apologist
What

 

The Better Dakyung

Uh.

 

♡♡ JENNY ♡♡

Sooyoung what are you taking abouttttt?? Did u get shitfacedd again and end up on someone’s doorstep lollll do i need to pick u up??

Sooyoung????

Oh wait nvm lol i just scrolled up and oh shit

Omg no! way! that was today???

 

Cha Hee Joo Apologist

Hyejin what the fuck are u talking abt…

OH

 

♡♡ JENNY ♡♡

SOOYOUNG I’M SORRY TT__TT I got plans today w the bf hehe ♡

 

QUEEN CONSORT CHO

Lol sorry sooyoung, i'm in my vacation house in Peru rn. 

 

The Better Dakyung

LMAO sorry i got better plans than drinking w u bitches today 😘😘😘 my man is coming home from his business trip so you knowww how it issss 🤪

 

Cha Hee Joo Apologist

LMAOOO DAKYUNG, WHEN HIS WIFE FINDS OUT U’RE GONNA BE SO DEAD FR

Also sorry sooyoung-ah i can’t, i’m going to the spa today ^_^

 

The Better Dakyung

Not my fault I’m better than her 🤷

 

♡♡ JENNY ♡♡

THIS is why u should get a boyfie too, sooyoung!! Wouldn’t be drinking alone if u actually dated one of the cute guys i set u up w 🙄

Ah. There it was.

Sooyoung let out a dry laugh. At this point, she should have known better.

She’d been acquainted with them for over a few years; they were the only people who would actually talk to her back in uni. They had all met at a general course lecture and had since bonded over their mutual antipathy towards their snobby professors and their fake prissy classmates who were more interested in kissing each other’s ass than “being real” with each other. 

Being with them had always been a bit of a mixed bag, especially when their favorite bonding activity had always teetered between talking smack about everyone and everything or setting up Sooyoung on countless terrible blind dates out of their supposed concern for her apparent lovelessness. Although somewhere along the line, Sooyoung figured it had mostly been done for their entertainment. They would always be there to “observe” these dates – be it in person, or through nosy questions as the dates had transpired or shortly after– as though they were the Roman Forum spectating gladiatorial contests in the colosseum, and she was the beast ruthlessly mauling these men’s egos to shreds.

She should have expected this. They weren’t really the type to celebrate each other, she realized, a little belatedly. All her friends were either flakes or fakes, often both at the same time. Now that she’d thought about it, all those drinking sessions they’ve had together had been mostly consolatory – be it a breakup, a contract termination, a failed job interview, or a pick-me-up after a bad date. 

Sooyoung had of course taken most of the brunt of the last one, in which she would become their keen subject of interest as she exhaustingly relayed on how exceptionally awful and terrible each of those blind dates were. She hadn’t really noticed before, as she was mostly just in need of drinking buddies and embarrassingly, didn’t know anyone else she could go with. But she’d finally understood now that they only wanted to hear about the details of each others’ ruinations, with an almost voyeuristic sense of eagerness; it was a sort of twisted roundabout way to boost their ego, to assure themselves that they still had it better. 

Still, there wasn't any reason to forego her own celebration. And it would be a waste of that Chardonnay she’d ordered – which was probably most of the reason she’d even thought this. Though if she wasn’t doing this with anyone, she might as well just do it at home. With that in mind, she called in the bartender with a wave of her hand and after paying her tab, asked to have the bottle wrapped up real nicely.

The drive back home had been relatively uneventful. She had readied herself a chauffeur service on speed dial in case she blacked out after several rounds, but clearly that was not happening tonight. Thus, it had only been Sooyoung, the wrapped bottle of Chardonnay in her passenger’s seat, and her purse at the back in her sleek black convertible. That was perfectly fine and good. Sooyoung had gotten used to this at some point, she assured herself. The wind got a little chillier than she expected, but Sooyoung couldn’t bring it in herself to let the roof down. It felt like giving in, somehow. And Sooyoung didn’t like giving in.

Instead, she’d rolled down her windows and rested her arm halfway on the door; feeling the wind kiss her nape as she drove down the streets of Gangnam beneath the starless, smog colored sky. 

She breathed in and let the cold air linger in her lungs, before eventually letting go. It felt less biting these days, the cold. She was starting to enjoy it. 

By the time she’d arrived, she came home to a mess. Figured. As she’d been busy with contracts and deadlines as of late. She threw off her heels down her foyer – which had been the only pair she owned, the ones she’d wear when she hung out with her so-called friends because while Sooyoung was not one to get knocked down by a few of their pegs, she’d consider their nagging a nuisance enough to try and stop them. They fell with a loud clack and she’d unceremoniously dumped herself into the safety of her dark velvet chaise, hugging the bottle of Chardonnay in her arms as she reached for the remote of her cherished 65 inch OLED TV. 

She flipped through a few channels, before eventually settling on the trashiest looking drama she’d seen in a while. With that settled, she uncorked the bottle with ease and downed several shots of it in one go. The actors on her wide TV screen were engaged in the shittiest kiss scene Sooyoung’s ever seen in any drama and laughed, gleefully, with tears in her eyes as she downed another shot. 

Who cared about those fake bitches? Sooyoung thought. She’d have plenty of fun on her own! She turned up the volume, finding it unbearable to not be somewhat surrounded by noise. 

Her new penthouse apartment in Gangnam had only been a little larger than her student dorm, which was exactly what she wanted. Sooyoung wasn’t so fond of such big houses, it wouldn’t make sense anyway considering she’d be the only one living in IT. And yet, even then, her apartment had still felt a little too large for herself. She didn’t like the echoes it produced either. Didn’t enjoy the stillness. Sooyoung turned up the volume even more. The actors on the screen were doing an absolutely horrendous job at fake crying, even with the artificial tears at their disposal. Sooyoung felt herself keel over with laughter, and tried to let it last long enough to mask the faint stinging sensation in her chest. She took another big gulp through her tear stained laughter. Her vision was slowly blurring. Maybe she’d been tired. Her ears rang as she laughed for the last and longest time. Eventually, everything faded to darkness.

It had been morning, and Sooyoung felt awful. But she had made it to her bed somehow, and tucked herself in so firmly, as though she’d been trying to restrain herself, despite having absolutely no memory of doing so. Her head throbbed incessantly, demanding her attention. She looked to her right and sure enough, she’d found some painkillers and a glass of water. No note this time, though. Perhaps she’d been so wasted she hadn’t even bothered. Perhaps she went too far this time, but it’d been fun. 

Sooyoung’s stomach growled, making its grievances known. Still riding on that giddiness, she had then thought of something ridiculous.

Not long after, she was sitting at her kitchen island, looking up easy to follow recipes for seaweed soup on her phone. She’d been pleasantly surprised to find that she had all the ingredients despite her strong preference for takeout. After having taken a while to figure out the stove, she’d somehow ended with something that looked vaguely similar to the picture. It had been a little too salty, but Sooyoung thought it was just what she needed after yesterday. As she ate her breakfast leisurely, the sun rays warmly greeted her face through the railings of her kitchen window and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to cherish them.

Somewhere in Seoul, 1 April 2020

“Han Sooyoung.” That obnoxious voice coming from overhead could only be Kim Dokja’s.

Sooyoung did not bother to open her eyes, nor did she attempt to get up from her starfish position on the wet grass. “What is it now? We’re between scenarios aren’t we? Can’t a girl catch some z’s?”

Dokja had in turn, remained standing with his arms crossed before her, refusing to bend down to address her. She thought becoming a constellation and heading his own nebula must have gotten to his head or something. Still, she didn’t mind it as he blocked most of the sunlight.

He nudged her body with a light kick. “It’s only been several hours since I’ve entrusted our finances to you, and you’re already trying to embezzle company money?”

Her eyes snapped open, immediately turning to glare at him. Still, she did not find it necessary to move from her comfortable position. “What the fuck are you accusing me of?”

A status window revealing her recent purchases was rudely shoved in her face.

“Personal expenditures are not covered by the company budget.”

Oh, so he was here to argue about that . Took him long enough.

Sooyoung struggled as she sat up. She looked at her hands, there were grass stains on them now. Ugh.

“Hey, Kim Dokja. Don’t you know that bigshot companies these days actually give out bonuses to their best performing employees and would send them congratulatory gifts on their birthdays?”

Kim Dokja looked absolutely incredulous, his face was all scrunched up and he looked at her as if she was an alien from an alternate star system. “That… that’s not even true. What company would even do that?”

Sooyoung only rolled her eyes at that. “You just didn’t know because the company you worked at was not that good.”

He huffed a restrained laugh. “You’ve never even worked in an office setting!”

“The preschool I went to would give out cakes for kids on their birthdays, too. Not that I got any, though.”

“... You went to a rich kids’ preschool.” Kim Dokja pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes in frustration, before realizing something. “Hold on. Is it really your birthday?”

“Have I ever lied to you?” 

Kim Dokja only gave her a withering look.

She sighed exaggeratedly, “Yes, it’s my birthday.”

The wind swept the blades of grass beneath them and they shared a brief, and rare moment of silence, before soon being interrupted by the shrill shrieks of some beast of calamity in the far off distance.

Kim Dokja seemed to be thinking hard about something.

“Uh… Happy birthday?” 

She snorted. This guy must not have had a lot of friends.

Well, not that she could say anything about that.

“That’s it? You’re not even going to give me a present?” She teased.

“Isn’t allowing you to embezzle our coins enough for you?” He bit back, and she laughed with him.

But soon, he turned oddly silent. She looked at him, wondering what was in his head that was so difficult to be dragged out in the open.

“Well, uh. Is there something you want?” He eventually asked, hands clasped in his lap.

She rolled her eyes. 

“You already know what I want.”

She could feel his eyes on her for a long time. For a reader he sure needed a lot of things spelled out to him.

“You haven’t forgotten about your promise haven’t you?”

Read my story. 

The wind picked up, blowing at the mess of her hair, obscuring his face from view.

Han Sooyoung couldn’t remember what he said next.

Kim Dokja’s Company Industrial Complex, 1 April 20??

The bastard didn’t keep his promise. 

Once again Kim Dokja had vanished, almost seemingly completely, and she and the company were left to pick up the pieces.

The day had been hot and dry, a typical summer’s afternoon in the industrial complex, when Han Sooyoung realized this very thing.

It also happened to be the first of April, although she’s no longer sure what year it was, how old she’s becoming.

Time flowed oddly in the Industrial Complex. And the fact that she’d lived multiple lifetimes in entirely different worlds, and all those group regressions, hadn’t helped either.

It didn’t make sense. 

She’d lived these entire lives, and the world around them had spun as it always had, and yet she still looked just as she was when the scenarios had begun.

Lee Seolhwa would jest, saying that she ought to appreciate her apparent youthfulness more. 

But it’d been more than a little disorienting, to say the least. Han Sooyoung wasn’t sure anymore, she hadn’t thought of keeping track of the time. Time wouldn’t bring him back. Time wouldn’t give them the conclusion they’d been waiting for. Time wouldn’t let them move on.

Or maybe it wouldn’t just yet.

Her head lolled to the side as she looked at the sleeping patient before her, watching for the steady rise and fall of his chest. He’d been alive, breathing, yet an empty shell of what he was supposed to be. 

She supposed she’s not much different.

Just beyond them, the winds blow stubbornly at the white curtains.

Everyone had been busy. Or at least, they kept themselves busy. 

Suddenly she felt as if she’d return once more, to that big empty house, and a terrible coldness settled inside her.

The clock on the wall ticked once more, and she let the thought roll off of her.

The sun set as it always had.

Seoul University, 1 April 20??

Han Sooyoung couldn’t remember what day it was, but she knew that she was late, and no one had cared to wake her, or maybe they hadn’t thought to. She’s never slept through her alarms before, after all.

It felt as if she’d just awoken from a long dreamless sleep. 

She rubbed her eyes, avoiding the piercing glare of the sunlight through her sheer white curtains.

A quick glance at her phone screen reveals that it’s only 9 am. There should still be some time to make it to her first lecture of the day.  Her TA could probably shoulder some more responsibility. He’d been slacking, after all.

As if on cue, her screen soon lights up with a Katalk notification.

DO CHAEHYUN (TA)
Prof. Han, is there any chance that you’ll be coming in today? I’ve disseminated all the teaching materials for today as well as the assignments, so you don’t have to worry about that, but… Some of the kids said they need to attend your office hours, so it’d be wonderful if you could just confirm it with me! Thanks 🙂

 

Han Sooyoung

I’ll be there in around one hour. 

 

Then, a second later.

 

Han Sooyoung

Thanks. 

For holding down the fort.

 

DO CHAEHYUN (TA)

😁👍

 

She snorted. There was a definite strain in that grinning emoji. The kids loved Do Chaehyun, they considered him a friend, but it came at the cost of being the butt of their jokes more often than not, though he seemed to enjoy it. He was a little annoying, but he was a good kid and knew how to do his job. Han Sooyoung was glad she got someone to help her with things around campus. 

With that taken care of, she moved to get ready and stepped out of her room.

And this was when things were starting to look very odd.

The Industrial Complex had communal shower rooms. They were much like those of public bathhouses or school gym bathrooms at first, but with everyone’s efforts they managed to spruce the place up a lot, so it’s no longer a dump and with both Yoo Sangah and Yoo Joonghyuk’s insistence, it was always kept clean and orderly.

But of course, it had hardly ever remained empty in the mornings. Not everyone was like Yoo Sangah, who’d wake up at 5 AM on the dot every day to do her morning runs, or Lee Hyunsung who’d wake up around the same, a routine drilled into him since his military days.

No, people like Jung Heewon and Jang Hayoung for one, were gym rats who’d hit the showers right after their daily workouts. Lee Seolhwa would also be here around this time, after doing her daily rounds in the garden. And so would Lee Jihye, who woke up late for her college classes more often than not.

She could usually hear Heewon’s loud karaoke sessions, or Jihye’s laughter before she inevitably slips or drops something, or even the teenage Yoosung’s warnings that they’ll both be late if they keep this up.

And yet right now, there was only her, the sound of the rushing water and the distant chirps of a bird outside.

Sooyoung turned off the shower sooner than usual, drying her hair and body halfheartedly. 

The sleep hadn’t left her just yet, she supposed.

Sooyoung wasn’t a big breakfast person, though she’d drop by the kitchen anyway and take whatever Yoo Joonghyuk insisted were leftovers to eat on the way, or on campus. Just so she wouldn’t faint throughout the day.

But even the kitchen was deserted today. 

There’d been no telltale sounds of Yoo Joonghyuk’s prized wok, his awkward, discordant humming, no sight of his broad, weary back by the stovetop. No Lee Seolhwa, making light conversation with him, or Lee Sookyung sipping her tea nearby as she reads the morning news by the window. No Lee Gilyoung, moodily looking over his undone homework, or Yoo Mia eating her eggs with silent fervor.

There were only a few things on the kitchen island. A bowl of rice. Some side dishes. And a big, mysterious bowl filled with some kind of soup with a cling wrap cover and a note stuck onto it.

Sooyoung narrowed her eyes to take a better look. She’d realized then that she’d actually come to need her reading glasses more. 

It read:

Take your time and finish it all. Don’t bother washing them. Just put them in the sink.

She scoffed.

The note had no name signed to it, but Sooyoung didn’t need a name to know who penned it. She could recognize Yoo Joonghyuk’s ugly penmanship and haughty tone anywhere.

With the note gone, the content of the bowl was made clear.

It was seaweed soup.

Sooyoung suddenly felt as if she was forgetting something, but her stomach had already started growling. So with that, she dropped the thought on its head, opened the plastic covering and picked up a spoon.

It was warm —and as expected of Yoo Joonghyuk’s culinary mastery— it was absolutely delicious, and perfectly suited to her tastes. She practically licked the bowl clean.

Han Sooyoung briefly wondered what that meant, and implied about her, as an author, as his creator, as she washed the dishes thoroughly and put them away.

When she’s done brushing up and gathering her things, she realized she still had some time left before she’s fully late. She glanced at the old elevator and thought briefly, whether she’d try to see the one person she’d know would be here, what with him still being bed bound and all.

The hands of the clock ticked loudly, and she turned to the front door.

To her surprise, as she turned the knob and opened it, Yoo Sangah had been waiting, seated at the driver’s seat of her new sedan.

It was sleek, and elegant, unimposing, though clearly packed a lot more drive than it let on. Just like its driver.

She rolled down the windows and lowered her tinted sunglasses. Her fame necessitated them, though she’d say she just wanted to protect her eyes from the harsh UV rays. Han Sooyoung should probably count herself lucky to be able to see Yoo Sangah’s winning smile, but right now it just bugged her.

She’s hiding something.

“Sooyoung-ssi,” Yoo Sangah said, in that calm practiced cadence of hers. “Care for a ride to campus?”

Sooyoung was already walking to the passenger’s seat when she asked. She wouldn’t say no to a free ride, really. And over the years, it’s gotten comfortable with Yoo Sangah. 

It’s definitely not because she was aching for some company.

“You wanna sit in on my lectures again or something?” 

She climbed in the car, slamming the door shut, bracing herself for whatever lecture Yoo Sangah’s about to give her about not slamming the door so hard, because it’s oh-so-delicate. 

It didn’t come.

Instead, Yoo Sangah only hummed and started the car.

“If you’d let me,” she said, still smiling. 

Sooyoung watched as the Industrial Complex got smaller and smaller through the rearview window. 

“As long as you’re not distracting my students, do whatever you want.”

Which was hard to do. Her students had poor attention span, but when it came to their favorite celebrity, they’d have razor sharp focus and hawk-like vision. They spotted Yoo Sangah in her disguise before, and they basically got near to nothing done that day.

But Han Sooyoung couldn’t care less today. Chaehyun had done half her work anyway, so there wouldn’t be much left to do anyway.

“Then it would be an honor, I’ve always thought Professor Han’s lectures to be very… thought-provoking,” she said, diplomatically.

Sooyoung snorted. Sangah and her jokes.

Now was the time.

“So where’d everyone go anyway? I’d thought at least the brats would be around somewhere, but the house was practically empty.”

Han Sooyoung glanced furtively at her face, watching for any change in expression, any shifts in body language or other tell-tale signs.

“Beats me,” she hummed. “I suppose everyone’s just been busy this time around.”

As expected, Yoo Sangah was still a damn good liar. She didn’t flinch, not once stiffening or changing her tone. She never answered too quickly, or too slowly. It’s no wonder she’s made it big as an actress nowadays.

But having spent years of her life with her, Sooyoung’s come to know when she’s not exactly telling the truth. It’s very subtle, but maybe she’s caught on too well with Sangah’s performance. 

And right now she knew Sangah was putting on a marvelous performance. So much, that Sooyoung almost believed her.

Still, she wasn’t in the mood to push. It wasn’t implausible anyway. Everyone had their own lives now, after all. 

The ride continued in silence for a while, and for that short while, Sooyoung felt like a kid again, watching the roads and the clouds go by in the trailing winds. Yoo Sangah, seemingly relaxed after having evaded further questioning, started humming a song Sooyoung hardly knew. It had an odd melody, but had a strangely calming effect.

They stopped at a traffic light, just before the train tracks, waiting for the train to pass in their solitary car.

“That bastard… I mean, Kim Dokja… He’s doing better, isn’t he?” Sooyoung didn’t fully understand why she felt like asking that out of the blue. 

Sangah hummed affirmatively, “Dokja-ssi’s been well. He’s eating more, and he’s… recovering from last time.”

Kim Dokja’s wakefulness did not mean immediate recovery. His body, despite having been mostly restored with stories and IV drips, was still frail and weak. He had trouble moving around without help due to the state of his body. And sometimes, he’d… forget things.

Sometimes, he’d relapse too. 

Not too long ago, he’d gotten ill and it was difficult for him to return to full health. Lee Seolhwa and her team had worked tirelessly to help him, and he’d been gradually recovering with her help, but the last episode gave them all such a scare.

Everyone’s afraid of losing him again.

“We’re doing our best,” Yoo Sangah assured, though Sooyoung isn’t sure who that assurance is meant for. “And so is Dokja-ssi.”

Perhaps it’s meant for both of them.

“He’s doing well,” Sangah said again, as though reciting a prayer. “You should see him again, you know. He misses you.”

Sooyoung hummed. She would say she hadn’t had the time, but unlike Sangah she’s an awful liar. So instead she turned her head back to the window, watching the empty streets go by.

They arrived on campus without a hitch. Sangah dropped her off at the usual spot and immediately went back.

Sooyoung couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment as she watched the retreating bumper of the sedan.

The walk to her lecture room was brief, but when she got there she was unexpectedly met with a dark room.

Did she come in too late after all? Or did Chaehyun pull the classic sub move of having the kids watch a movie instead of doing coursework of all things?

Confused, she turned the knob and was nearly blinded by the sudden onslaught of light and noise.

“Surprise!” Her students all exclaimed. 

She opened her eyes.

And right in front of her were her students, all huddled close, with party hats on their heads and party poppers in their hands. There was confetti all over the floor, and Sooyoung was sure, some were on her too. In the middle of it all, Chaehyun stood with a yellow cake in hand. A singular lit candle was placed right in the middle, looking quite comically pathetic compared to the cake.

Han Sooyoung was simply stunned. 

Her students looked at each other awkwardly, probably due to her lack of response. And they were caught in this odd standstill for a while, until Chaehyun started singing an awkward rendition of happy birthday.

The students laughed at him, and they soon followed, getting carried away in the mood again and clapping along.

“Happy birthday, professor!”

“Does this mean you’ll get our grades up?”

“I picked out the cake for you, you know”

“Hey, I was the one who introduced you to the store.”

“Yeah? Well I drove all the way to Garosugil to get it.”

“My brother’s the patisserie, you losers.”

In the midst of all that absurd argument, Han Sooyoung found it in her to laugh, a loud snorting, bubbling type that has her smiling ear to ear and clutching her sides. 

So it was her birthday. 

She laughed so hard, she could feel tears prick at the corner of her eyes.

With a single puff, she blew out the singular candle, and they all cheered and clapped.

“No one’s getting any of their grades raised,” she said. “But thank you, really. I didn’t even remember it was my birthday.”

“We figured you’d say that,” Chaehyun said, smiling.

“Now for the age-old birthday tradition…”

Hold on, wasn’t he holding that cake at a weird angle just now?

“You are not smashing that cake in my face, Do Chaehyun.”

“What? Oh no, I meant uh… you should give the first slice of cake to your most cherished person here,” he said, looking away as he set the cake on her desk.

He was definitely trying to smash that cake in her face.

“Right, then don’t mind if I do,” with that she took the cake knife and cut out a huge slice, before taking that slice for herself.

“It’s good,” she said, because it was. It was a lemon and blueberry cheesecake. Brings back memories. “Thanks, again you still need to do your finals though.”

“See, I figured she’d do that.”

“Chaehyunie, you were hoping you’d get that first slice didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t!”

Her students and TA all laughed and joked among themselves and it was nice. It was warm.

She gave Chaehyun the second slice anyway, and gave the rest to the students to share. 

They’d ended class early then, with the promise that they’d all submit by the date and not on it.

When she was about to order a cab ride home, Jung Heewon came in the driveway in her death trap of an automobile, and honked her horn at her. 

“Looking for a ride?”

“As long as it’s free,” Sooyoung joked, already climbing in.

“You actually have to pay me in beer and soju, and also 100 squats,” Heewon threw back, because this was where they’re at now. 

“I’m not meant for heavy physical workouts, and hey didn’t Seolhwa say you have to cut them out of your diet a bit?”

“What she doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her,” she shrugged. “How’s school?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Good,” Sooyoung played with the car radio a bit. It was hard to find good tunes these days. “Did you know it was my birthday?”

Jung Heewon stayed silent for a very long time. 

“Um, wow haha I didn’t know? How’d you know?”

Jung Heewon, by comparison, was a very terrible liar.

“You know, with any other person that question would be really hilarious right? But yeah kind of forgot about it. But my students surprised me, it was nice of them.”

Another pause.

“That is very nice of them…” Jung Heewon’s voice trailed off in the end, before quickly picking back up. “Hey, you mind if we take a detour real quick? I gotta pick something up for Hyunsung,” 

“You’re the driver,” Sooyoung shrugged.

She’s slowly piecing the pieces together. These fools. So that’s why they’ve gone AWOL all morning. 

She must be stalling.

As it turns out though, Heewon had something of Hyunsung’s to be picked up. They dropped by a custom woodworking shop to pick up one of Hyunsung’s works he’d finished. He said he forgot to bring it with him, even though it’s this big. Heewon had said, offhandedly. 

When they got strapped back in, Jung Heewon rummaged through her glove compartment before eventually taking something out of a bag, unwrapping it, and popping it in Sooyoung’s mouth.

Sooyoung was about to protest when she tasted the familiar tang of her favorite lemon candy, melting into her mouth.

“Happy birthday,” Heewon said, with fake nonchalance, her eyes still fixed on the road.

Sooyoung laughed. 

“Are you bribing me?”

“Look, can you at least pretend to be surprised?” Now that she realized it, Heewon was more put together than usual. She had her hair done and everything. 

“The kids were so excited about putting this together for you, don’t crush their dreams okay?”

“Well, I’m no blue dragon winner, but I’m at least better than you.”

Heewon flicked her hard on the forehead.

Somewhere along the way, when Heewon was making her many, many detours, the conversation grew to a lull, and the ride got almost quiet if not for the shitty radio music in the background.

“This song’s trash,” Sooyoung commented.

Jung Heewon snorted, but agreed.

“We’re here,” Jung Heewon shook her awake, and she realized then that they were not home. All around the car was pure darkness. She couldn’t see a single thing.

“This isn’t the Industrial Complex.”

“Great observation, no wonder you teach at university level.”

“Jung Heewon, have you finally gotten sick of me and decided you’ll murder me in cold blood in the middle of nowhere?” 

“Get a grip, I just gave you candy. Why would I kill you? Just get out before I throw you out,” She couldn’t see her. But Sooyoung knew Heewon was rolling her eyes in the driver’s seat.

“And remember,” she whispered. “Please act surprised.”

“Sshh. Here she comes,” someone, she thinks it’s Lee Gilyoung, whispers all too loudly to the rest of them as she climbs out of the car.

They’re really, really bad at this, Sooyoung thinks, fondly.

And then, soon the lights hit her all at once. Brightness surrounds her to the point that it’s blinding, too much, before her eyes eventually adjust, and settle at the sight around her.

There, under the starless sky, stood the entire company, at the Han River bank.