Prequel - The Meeting
Seoul, South Korea
6 months ago
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“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The smell of alcohol stained the air of the pub, laughter and the sound of glass clinking together would fill ears. There was a sense of youthful exuberance, one would expect after the last day of exams.
Yejun sat with friends, cheering on one in particular to down the bitter substance. He would soon find out it was his turn to chug, all eyes turned to him along with a pair he found to be not so familiar.
“Aye!”
They all shouted as he quickly chugged the liquor and slammed the keg on the table. In one swift movement, he wiped his lips with the back of his hands and turned to find the same pair of unfamiliar eyes watching him.
She smiled.
“Who’s that?”
“Huh? Oh, I don’t know.”
Yejun turned to look at his friend, Dohwan.
“You should go talk to her,” He says, “She might be interested in you.”
“You think so? I don’t know, she looks out of my league.”
“Would she be looking at you if she thought she was?”
The woman in question seemed to have gotten a call, seeing how she got up, phone in hand and headed towards the door.
“Wow look at her bodyline,” Dohwan exclaims, “If you don’t go talk to her, I will.”
Yejun found himself irritated by his friend’s remark and said, “Fine! I’m going in.”
With a fix of his jacket and a quick look on his face in the camera of his phone, he headed outside in the same direction as the unknown woman. She seemed just about finished with her phone call and turned on her heels to head back inside to her friends, but before she could go any further Yejun waved at her and made an indication to talk.
She smiled and walked over to him. He couldn’t help but look at the body of the woman in front of him, the way her hips swayed as she walked and the way her eyes seemed to call out to him. Her caramel coloured skin complemented the mustard yellow of the spaghetti strap pencil dress she was wearing and her shiny hair was brought up in a bun with loose baby hairs decorating her forehead.
“Hi,” She greeted.
A sweet fragrance suddenly graced Yejun’s nostrils, his curiosity piqued wondering how a person can smell so good.
“Hi, umm I-” He stuttered, “I couldn’t help but notice you staring earlier and I just wanted to ask if we’ve met before?”
′Stupid,′ He cursed himself.
“Oh I’m sorry, It’s unfortunate how we’ve never met before tonight but I just couldn’t help but notice how attractive you are.”
He was visibly affected by the young woman’s compliment even realizing the way she used the same words to address him and tripped over a simple ‘thank you’.
“I’m Amara,” She held out her hand.
“Yejun.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Yejun.”
They shook hands and decided that they had to spend the rest of the night getting to know each other, getting a table alone inside the pub and talking animatedly about each other’s likes and dislikes. His friends watched in both jealousy and awe at how he managed to talk to someone like her.
This meeting birthed an unfamiliar feeling, it had been a while since Yejun found himself so invested in getting to know someone.
‘What could have caused this?’ He thought to himself, ‘The excitement of meeting a foreigner with mutual attraction? Or could it be something deeper?’
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Present-day
Yejun’s P. O. V.
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The subtle breeze of the ac left a chill on my wet skin as I had just come out of the shower. I decided it had been a while since I watched or checked any form of media and discreetly turned on the T. V. in the living room as a result of the absence of Amara. What appeared to be a famous drama was showing. The lead male was in an argument with his mother about his love interest and I ran my hand through my wet hair and sighed, wondering how much more like a drama my life could get.
“What the- I didn’t change the channel,” I said out loud, “What’s this? Local news?”
The drama was replaced by the emergency broadcast of a missing person. My breath hitched as I looked at the picture of myself on the screen. A picture that was almost unrecognizable to me. The words ′MISSING, 23-year-old Kim Yejun′ are in bold above the picture.
The sound of a phone vibrating tore my attention off the T. V. and I swiftly made my way over to the coffee table that it was currently on top of.
’This is my chance,′ I thought.
My eyes scanned the room for a sign of Amara, but before I could try answering the phone, my eyes stopped at the reflection of her. Door ajar with enough space to show her in the mirror, my eyes found the reflection of her taking her shirt off. A toned abdomen with a slim waist greeted my vision and soon enough, I was too mesmerized to remember what I was trying to do.
‘I’m in too deep.’
