Why aren't you talking to me?
Another text.
Gyeong-Wan, we need to talk.
2AM. More texts.
Gyeong-Wan, your mom said you haven't spoken to her, either. You're avoiding us. It's been a week.
Trying to turn off my phone, but another text.
TALK TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND. SHE MISSES YOU. WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING HER.
Mom.
Phone off. Time to go to bed. Pick up the remote, turn on the TV. Pick up the rattling chocolate on the nightstand. Eat.
As the laughing audience filled my hotel room, I lounged back on the too expensive bed with the brand new sheets. You don't often get that at a hotel, so it's something to savor. A brand new bed. Only I've ever slept in it. I've been here for a week.
To be honest, when my work told me I was being transferred to Japan, I packed my bags as soon as I got home. I told my parents that night, and I left two weeks later. I hadn't spoken to Seo-Yoon since the day I'd been told.
The reality was, I saw Japan as a golden opportunity. An excuse to start over. Leave it all behind. Be done with the life that was thrust upon me, I was free. They wouldn't be close enough to sink their claws into me anymore, to make me obey.
I'd met Seo-Yoon when we were kids. Ever since then, my mom forced us together. Seo-Yoon was nice and genuinely wanted to be my friend, but she also pulled my hair. She stole my hat and threw it in the air. She made fun of me when I cried due to a scraped knee. She broke my toys. Through the years, I went through the motions as obligation. Oh, you're definitely going to get married to her, she's your best friend. That's the best kind of love, my mom said to me. You've known each other your whole lives. That's the best thing. Your grandchildren will know you were in love since you were children!
The idea of having children with Seo-Yoon made me want to run. The idea of seeing her in wedding clothes made me want to pee my pants.
My mom had no idea that her older brother and I were such good friends, too. They both had no idea that he was my first kiss. They had no idea that we'd had sex pretty regularly when I was in college. But, we both knew we couldn't be together, because of Seo-Yoon and my mom. So, it was our little secret, and was the push that I needed to tell my work that, no problem, I'll go be the guinea pig. Send me to the new hotel. I'm your guy.
I looked like the perfect son. It was like the dramas that you see on TV. Getting married to the perfect girl. Perfect respect to the mother. Following in father's footsteps in the hospitality industry. He'll be the general manager of a hotel soon. He'll own one! He'll own many! He'll be the richest guy in Korea.
I made it look that way. But, after a while, who was I impressing? What was it for? All I wanted was her brother, Jeong-Ho, or a life where I could love a Jeong-Ho. That's what I realized in my thirties. After being trapped in my twenties, thinking there was no way out, I realized in my thirties that there could be another way of living. And then my work dropped it right in my lap.
I was so ready. And now my phone was blowing up. My mom must have given her my phone number.
Wash it away. Eat the chocolate. Think of the cute guy at the coffee shop. Laugh at the TV. Think of his smile and the precious information he told you.
Do you like French music? I do now.
I tried to find some this afternoon, but I'd seen the lady at the record store at the coffee shop. More than seen her. When I'd first entered it, she was yelling at one of the guests of my hotel. I tried to avoid the guest's eyes. She'd say, Gyeong-Wan! Tell her my daughter is getting married! Tell her! She knew me, of course, because I was the front desk manager. I was the one who took her repeated tongue lashings that the hotel wasn't doing enough for her daughter's wedding. Bowed my head, told her we would do everything we could.
Seeing her get tongue lashed herself was one of the greatest moments of my life.
Seeing the boy behind the counter was also wonderful. That was freedom. Looking at him, he was wearing exactly what he wanted. Nobody could tell him no. Seeing also, when I picked up these chocolates, that his nametag said he was the co-owner.
When I first saw him, I couldn't believe my eyes. The freedom he had. I'd accidentally knocked him down, and his freedom granted him the power to yell at me. No little apologies, no offer to make it right. He came at me, and I was so surprised. Those eyes flashing in the dim light, his pink beret that I'd never dare wear in Korea or my work or anywhere. How cute he was, like a kitten really, coming at me with his claws out. I'd never met a person like him in my life.
I followed him to that coffee shop. Was I a stalker? Maybe. But, I had to see where he was rushing to so early in the morning. To find out that he'd made the chocolates in my hands now. Did he make all the treats in the shop? And he had invited me to something called Drag Bingo. I'd read about it in the magazine I'd grabbed since, and it seemed so peculiar. What the heck happened at Drag Bingo? I was going to find out.
The chocolates were creamy and slightly bitter, the sweetness of the chocolate was more than one would find in a milk chocolate, and somehow muted. It brought out the mocha flavor with a robustness, some kind of magic in there. I'd eaten a lot of chocolate in my life, but had I ever taken the time to really think about it while it was in my mouth? Now I was. Now, I was thinking that way about every aspect of my life.
Seo-Yoon's messages would go unread. At some point, I would have to confront my mother. Telling her about Jeong-Ho and I was exhilarating, but only from afar. Some day, I'd have to see her again. Something in me wanted to destroy that happy, fake world she'd formed. That one, with the perfect son with the perfect job, the perfect future that she thought was perfect.
It wasn't the perfect future for me. It took me a long time to realize that. And seeing that boy in the pink beret running away from me in the dark... Seeing all that freedom he had. Knowing that there was somebody out there that had it all.
It was like a hope that I'd never known. I'd hoped it existed, and that it wasn't just a daydream. But, it was real. There he was, living a freedom that I'd wanted my whole life.
All I had to do now was reach out and grab it.
If only I could get up the courage to go in there again, after knocking over his entire display of chocolates. After I'd broken his sugar animals, whatever those were.
I covered my face, chewing the chocolate now. I laid back on the expensive pillows, and they deflated wonderfully, easing up my back. My other hand met my face as I chewed more, the sweetness of the chocolate mixing with the bitterness, the perfect metaphor for my dumb, complicated and absolutely unperfect life.
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French Cup: A Neighborhood Story
RomanceSummary: In Tokyo, a neighborhood is seeing the tail lights of its local industry fading into the distance. Gentrification is moving in, replacing secretly LGBTQ owned shops and restaurants that have populated the block for decades. New developers a...