When we arrived, Mr. Myung welcomed us and began our tour. I met him during our dinner with the Injin people yesterday, and we spent most of the evening talking. He’s about Lex’s age and very dynamic. HisEnglish is far, far better than my Korean. Now, he’s guiding us to the building where we’ll meet the small team he has assembled to help us create the best possible phone for our customers.
Once we get there, I’m surprised to see that the “small” team consists of twenty-three developers, designers, and engineers. This is… a lot. Mr. Myung introduces us, and they all stand up to greet us with bows. Lex and I return the gesture, and they go back to work.
As he walks us around the space, Mr. Myung introduces each team member individually. When we arrive at the corner with the developers, he jokes in Korean that they should ask now if they have an issue that needs fixing. “Mr. Coleman and Miss Walker are very talented programmers,” he explains.
“He just told them I’m the brain, and you’re my bodyguard,” I jokingly translate to Lex.
“That’s actually a very good way to put it.”
One of the programmers raises his hand, interrupting my laugh. When Mr. Myung asks him to speak, he timidly explains in English, “I sent an email last week about a compatibility issue with the KOS.”
“Oh, wait!” I suddenly say, remembering an email about the Kelex Operating System malfunctioning. “Are you… Jeong Dong-hyun?” He nods. “I’m in charge of your ticket, but I didn’t have time to handle it before the trip. I think Steven was supposed to take care of it. He didn’t email you back?”
Mr. Jeong shakes his head. “I’m sorry about that. I think I figured out what the problem was. Do you mind if I look now?”
He hesitates, looking at his team leader, Mr. Myung, for approval. The latter gives him a confident nod, and my nerves choose that moment to manifest themselves.
What if I actually didn’t figure out what the issue is and ridicule myself? This is our OS. I’m supposed to know it in and out. As if he can sense my hesitation, Lex rests a hand in the middle of my back and whispers low enough so I’m the only one to hear, “You got this, Walker. Show them how it’s done.”
Mr. Jeong is up from his chair, waiting for me to sit in it, and Lex gives me the gentle push I need. My fingers barely tremble as I navigate through the script. I make the few changes that are needed and correct some mistakes. As I suspected, the problem isn’t on our side but theirs. I have to add minor edits to three other scripts for it to work, and once I’m done, I sit back and look at the screen with pride.
When I gaze up at the Injin employee, who was observing everything the whole time, he gives me a thumbs up and a smile.
“It was a sneaky one,” I explain.
I stand up, give him his chair back, and return to Lex. “We should go before they try to poach you,” he suggests. “I’m not sure Kelex can compete with a life in Seoul and all the amenities here.”
“Oh, Kelex can absolutely compete.”
“But we don’t have tennis courts,” he jokes.
“No, but my favorite—and only—way of doing cardio works there.”
I swear on my life that his cheeks turn pink. I don’t have time to dwell on it because our guide returns from his talk with the developer. “Thank you, Miss Walker. It looks like everything’s good now.”
“Amazing. That’s one less email to answer when we get home,” I humor.
He politely laughs and asks, “Was there anything else you wanted to see? I can show you around more if you want.”
“We have bothered you enough as it is,” Lex intervenes. “We will head to the food court you mentioned and then make our way to the car so we can get to the airport.”
I stifle a sigh, reluctant to leave. It all went so fast that I barely had time to enjoy Seoul, Korean food, the culture… I’ll have to come back, for real this time. And maybe I’ll take my favorite thing about this trip with me, and we’ll share a room instead of a suite.
Using his navigational superpower, Lex effortlessly guides us to the canteen. While eighty-seven menus sounded like heaven earlier, I realize it’s a nightmare. There’s too much to choose from, and I’m overwhelmed by my options. Plus, almost everything is in Korean, so it takes me forever to decrypt the dishes. After about ten minutes of hesitation, I choose a spicy bibimbap. Once I have it, I spot Lex in the distance, holding his own tray. He sees me, too, and we meet in the middle, settling on an empty table. When I sit down and see what he ordered, I give him a disapproving look.
“A cheeseburger? Really?”
He shrugs. “It was the only thing I recognized in the pictures.”
I shake my head, amused. “This is the reddest flag you’ve ever flown, Lex. And you broke my heart once, remember?”
He grabs his burger and brings it to his grinning mouth. “Eat before your food gets cold,” he orders, unbothered.
“It’s a cold dish,” I mumble as I pick up my chopsticks.
We eat for a moment, and I’ll admit that his french fries look particularly good. When I try to grab one, though, he swats my hand away. “You’re not allowed to eat my American food, you snob.”
He’s been so gentle and devoted lately that I didn’t expect that kind of behavior from him. I’m still stunned by shock and amusement when he picks up a fry and brings it to my gaping mouth. As I chew on it, I realize that this trip has momentously changed our dynamic.
