I’ll find out more tomorrow. If tonight’s interaction is any indication of what that will be like, it sounds like a dinner at my family’s, filled with silent resentment and loud expectations. I’ll feel right at home.
We go back to our rooms, and a text from Jihoon appears.
Jihoon:This isn’t the night I wanted.
Me:It’s ok and also Hana knows I was going to your place.
Jihoon:Sorry.
Me:I don’t mind.
Jihoon:Me neither. Good night, Ari.
He sends me a selfie of him blowing a kiss, and it makes me smile before I turn off the light. Best not to dwell on what could have been and go to sleep. If I need to be home for dinner tomorrow, I’ll need to get into the office extra early.
Hana greets me when I get in from a day of being busily bored and immediately grabs the bottles she asked me to pick up at the liquor store. “Soju as well as wine. That’s sweet of you, even though I hate it. At least you got peach.”
“I wasn’t ready for the yogurt-flavored one.”
I light one of Hana’s many scented candles—Cabin Sweater Holiday, a mellow blend of smoky wood and pretension—before I getchanged and fetch glasses for drinks. A knock comes at the door, and when Hana lets the men in, my eyes go straight to Jihoon. He hasn’t texted me all day, and he looks exhausted. All of them do. They must have been up late talking, plus jet lag.
Jihoon hands me a box of strawberry mochi as he redoes the introductions. I shake hands and try not to stare. Daehyun is dressed in baggy cargo pants and a flannel shirt with a beanie low over his ears. Kit is in black jeans and a black cardigan over a white shirt. Both live up to my previous impression of being impossibly gorgeous.
Hana’s usual social grace means we navigate the first minutes of conversation without too much trouble. It turns out they needed to come for urgent business with a collaborating artist and decided to stay with Jihoon, but he’d given them the old apartment number. They’d wanted to surprise him so hadn’t texted and were very sorry for frightening me. Daehyun nurses his drink, and Kit, Jihoon, and Hana all take turns murmuring translations to him.
It’s when the food arrives that I finally decide the strange atmosphere isn’t me reading into things. I’m not an unintelligent woman. I graduated in the top 5 percent of my law class. I got my driver’s license on my first try, even though the examiner tried to trick me at a right-turn-only intersection. I understood the plot toInceptionwithout resorting to Wikipedia.
So I can see there are unresolved issues swirling around. Is Jihoon pissed they’re here? That they’re staying with him? My ego wants to think he’s mad because their arrival interfered with what might have been a very entertaining night, but I reluctantly let that go. He can probably cope with not getting laid.
Whatever its root, the tension ebbs and flows throughout the evening. Jihoon sits beside me at dinner, and after we go back to the living room, I grab my glass and crack the soju open. “No, no,” Kit admonishes me. “Never pour for yourself. You wait for someone to fill it for you.”
My hand freezes on the bottle, and I glance at Hana and Jihoon for confirmation. She shrugs, while Jihoon nods enthusiastically as he takes the bottle from me. “What if no one notices?” I ask.
Kit looks slightly scandalized. “People should notice because it’s polite and they are aware of what’s happening around them, but if not, you pour someone else a drink, and they will pour you one.”
“Even if they don’t want a drink?” I ask. That seems rude and the whole ritual weirdly roundabout. But they all seem content, and I know that I’m the odd one here.
“Even then.” Jihoon pours us all a drink.
I drink, then sniff the empty glass in nauseous recognition. “This tastes like every drink I made in university,” I say. “Sweet mixer and vodka.”
Jihoon is already pouring the second round. “Is that good or bad?”
“In my experience, it’s usually bad, then better, then great. Then very bad.” I can feel my bun falling apart, so I take it down and shake my hair out.
“You can also say geonbae when you drink. It’s like cheers…” Kit’s voice falters when Jihoon reaches out to play with a lock of my hair that’s tumbled into his lap. Then Kit’s eyes narrow. Jihoon stares serenely back.
There’s a beat of dead silence before Hana checks the time. “Damn, it’s getting late.”
We stand in the hallway at our front door as we conduct the usual farewells and thank-yous. Jihoon ducks back in after the others head toward his door and pulls me close before pressing a hard kiss on my mouth. He’s gone before I can react.
Hana rubs her face. “Dude. In front of me?”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
We go in and start clearing dishes. “Your hair looked good tonight,” Hana says. “Plus your ass is great in those jeans.”
“Thanks.” I grab a few glasses and put them in the dishwasher. “What’s going on?”
