ORIAH
Oriah Salvador had never quite learned how to handle compliments.
She knew how to accept an award and how to stand before a room full of academics and explain research that had taken years of her life to complete.
And as much as she disliked doing it, she could even manage through a TV appearance.
But compliments required a particular kind of response, one that never seemed to come naturally to her. Smile, say thank you, perhaps return the compliment if she could think of something appropriate quickly enough.
It sounded simple until someone actually said something nice, and then she was left wondering whether her smile looked awkward.
It was the one problem in her life she had yet to solve.
Tonight, unfortunately, she was attending an event where compliments were practically currency. She’d already received more than her fair share. And the night was far from over.
“I can tell you’re dying to run out of here”
Ry looked up from her glass of water.
“I can tell that fact amuses you”
Minjae gave her a knowing look. Then pointed to the sheet of paper in front of her.
“Got the speech memorized?”
“I think so.”
Ry knew she didn’t sound convincing when the look on his face suggested he didn’t believe her.
“I hope so”
Kang Minjae had been her friend for more than five years, which meant he had witnessed enough of her social discomfort to find it entertaining rather than concerning.
He worked in television production and had a talent for making friends in places where Ry would have preferred to remain anonymous.
He was also the reason she was currently sitting in a ballroom at one of Seoul’s most expensive hotels, wearing a dress she’d spent twenty minutes deciding whether she liked.
She had told him she didn’t need an invitation to the gala.
He had told her the organizers had specifically requested her presence.
She had asked whether she could send a recorded speech.
He had said no.
And so here she was.
The ballroom glittered beneath enormous chandeliers. Servers moved between tables carrying trays of champagne and small, beautifully arranged dishes that Ry knew would leave everyone hungry before the evening was over.
The guests were a mix of business executives, researchers, entertainers, and people whose names she recognized from magazines but couldn’t match to their faces without help.
The gala was raising money for scientific research and educational initiatives. She had agreed to give a short speech about scientific discovery and the importance of making research accessible to young people.
She was comfortable with that part.
It was everything surrounding the speech that made her nervous.
“You’ll be fine,” Minjae said, as though he’d heard her thoughts.
“I’m not worried about the speech.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, Ry.”
She looked at him. He smiled at her.
“You’ve addressed rooms full of people who have spent their entire lives studying the same subject as you. And yet, somehow, you’re afraid of a room full of people who want to give you money for your research.”
She looked at her hands. Her palms had gotten a little sweaty. She reached for a paper towel and dabbed at her palms.
Before she could respond, someone approached their table. Minjae straightened, immediately adopting the polished expression he wore whenever he was working.
Ry recognized the woman who greeted him as one of the event coordinators. They exchanged pleasantries, and Minjae introduced her with such enthusiasm that she wished he would stop making her sound so important.
“Dr. Salvador, we’re delighted you could join us,” the woman said warmly. “I’m a huge fan”
“Thanks for having me”
The woman informed her about the schedule and when she would go on stage. The conversation was short, and afterward the woman moved on to other guests, oblivious to the fact that she had left the good Dr. a sweaty mess.
Minjae nudged her shoulder.
“Relax. You’ll do great”
She looked up at him. At 185cm he was a full head taller than her. She smiled despite her discomfort.
That was Minjae’s particular talent. He could make her feel comfortable without making a fuss about it. He never told her to stop being shy or suggested that she needed to become a different person. He simply stayed close enough that she didn’t feel entirely alone in a room full of strangers.
Ry was grateful for that.
She was also grateful when the lights dimmed, and the host took the stage, giving everyone a reason to return to their seats.
The evening’s program began with a welcome address, followed by a presentation about the charity’s work. Ry listened attentively, occasionally glancing at the program in front of her.
Then came the introductions.
A few prominent business figures spoke first. A renowned professor followed, delivering a thoughtful address about the challenges facing young researchers.
By the time the host announced her name, she had folded and unfolded the corner of her program so many times that Minjae gently took it away.
“You’ll be brilliant,” he whispered.
She looked at him.
“Please don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because now I’ll feel terrible if I’m not.”
His expression softened.
“Ry. Just tell them what you told me when we first met.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Why you love what you do.”
For a moment, she forgot about the audience.
She remembered a much younger version of herself, sitting in a university office with a stack of books beside her and an uncertain future ahead. She had been so determined to make something of herself, even when the answers wouldn’t come, and the work seemed to go on endlessly before her.
She thought about the first time she’d looked through a telescope and understood that the tiny point of light she’d been staring at was not a painted decoration in the darkness.
It was a world of its own.
When the host invited her to the stage, Ry stood, smoothed the front of her dress that didn’t need any extra attention, and walked towards the microphone.
The applause was warm and encouraging.
She looked out at the audience, found Minjae near the front, and immediately felt a little better.
“Good evening, everyone”
She began in fluent Korean.
