Seoul-Mates - Season 2: Hoseok

Season 2: Hoseok

"Listen, I really think you should put an application in for it. It wouldn't hurt, would it?"

I look at her like she's out of her ever-loving mind. Love has truly done a number on her intelligence.

"You can't be serious, Lo. Look what happened to you! Everything you went through, the pain, the humiliation... I don't think I want to go through that," I say, shaking my head as I drop the homemade dumplings into the soup broth, followed by the cut vegetables and pork belly. "Besides, I'm not really looking for anyone right now. I'm not ready to date yet."

"You're right, Jeong-Hui. You're right. I went through pain and humiliation. But I'm not the one who filled out the application, Li did that. I also wasn't told I was chosen to participate. Yet look how it ended up! Plus, there's been a lot of changes since last season. Joon made sure of it through his lawyers. He didn't want it to happen to anyone else," Lo says as she mixes the ingredients together for hotteok. "The difference for this season is that you would be going in with all the knowledge and power. You would be putting in the application, and the studio would make sure to let you know what's happening every step of the way."

"But how can any of it be real? It's a television show, for goodness sake! Isn't it scripted?" I ask, still not convinced.

"The first season sure wasn't scripted, seeing how some of the women acted when I think back on it. And it's definitely not on the guy's end either," Lo says, setting the bowl to the side to let the dough rise, then starting on the filling mixture.

"Okay, so Joon's season wasn't scripted on his part, but what about the next guy? Who says it wouldn't be for this season? It just seems all, oh I don't know, contrived? Fake? And who needs that in their life, especially when trying to find love."

"Okay, you have a point," she responds, wiping her hands on her apron. My gaze follows as she walks to the bag she hung by the door. She pulls out a small packet of papers. When she comes back, she drops it on the kitchen island between us. "You have some time before it would need to be submitted. So, just look it over and think about it. That's all I ask. It could be the best thing you do."

"Or the worst," I mutter under my breath as I turn around to wash my hands at the sink.

*************
It's been a couple days since my best friend of twenty years tried to talk me into filling out the application for the second season of Seoul-Mates. I've tried to ignore that packet of papers still sitting in the center of the island, but it's a glaring nuisance every time I walk by. It beckons me, and I've caught myself reaching for it more and more lately.

I pick up my coffee cup while staring at the offending white paper, taking a sip, grimacing at the semi-bitter taste of the horrid brew. With a heavy sigh, I toss the rest of it down the drain, rinsing the cup and setting it in the sink to wash later. Turning around, my gaze is drawn once again to the papers, and I let out a second heavy sigh. Grabbing it, I take it in the living room and sit down, staring at the first page.

Two hours later, I'm still sitting there, staring at the now filled out packet set on my lap. I can't believe I just did that... Getting up, I seal it in a large envelope and tuck it in my bag as I put my shoes and coat on. I head out to drop it off before I change my mind. Once it's with the television station's receptionist and I leave, it's out of my mind and I can move on with my life, not expecting anything to come of it.

*************
It's been a few months since that first conversation with Lo about the television show where she met the love of her life. She hasn't brought it up since, and I haven't thought about it – not even once – after I dropped off the application at the station. But my hands are shaking, the large envelope with KBS's logo in the corner rattling in my hand. I look up at Lo, eyes wide. I hold the envelope out to her, the confusion on her face as she looks down at it. Her gaze shoots up to mine when she sees where it's from. Carefully taking it from me, she pushes me down onto the couch in her living room. Walking to the window, she opens it, sliding the papers out, scanning through them quickly before reading the top page out loud.