Affection's Facade

Meeting Choi

1995-2001 Elera's pov

In the beginning, I didn't know how my life had come to be woven into the reality of the Kims'. It was a quiet weaving, as subtle as the thread that tugs at the corners of a spider's web. It was as if destiny had spun a silver thread around my finger while I lay in my mother's womb, binding me to a world I could not yet see or understand. I don't know if my mother ever said " This is going to be your new home." It just was.

My parents, with their beautiful dark skin and overworked calloused hands, served the Kim family with unwavering devotion. As their maid and driver, they were fixtures in the opulent household, of many other foreigners and natives working for " A better life." There was a time where all they were doing was blending into the background like shadows in the sunlight.

That slowly changed, because it was into this world of confusion that I was born, marked from the beginning as different, yet inexplicably linked to the Kim family's radiant daughter, So-Yeon.

She was the sun, casting a brilliant light that drew everyone into her orbit, while I found myself tethered to her, a moon reflecting her glow. People said it was in-yeon, that had intertwined our lives, for our mothers had gone into labor on the same auspicious day, and we entered this world at the same blessed time - August 9th, 1995. Born three hours apart, in the third hour of the day, the numbers 8, 9, and 3 seemed to dance around our births, a cosmic waltz that hinted at something more than mere coincidence. Despite being born first, it wasn't a status of authority. Instead, it felt as though I was born to check that the world was safe before So-Yeon was safely delivered three hours later. A state of servitude and reliability.

A shaman visited my mother's hospital room as she whispered of the spiritual connection that existed between those born under the same stars, and our births became a subject of quiet wonder. Despite the wide gulf of privilege and status that separated us, our lives were bound together by a force that neither of us could fully comprehend. And as the years passed, I would come to realize just how deep the threads of our entwined fates ran.

From the moment we entered kindergarten, it was clear that the bond between So-Yeon and I was something out of the ordinary. We navigated our first days of school hand-in-hand, a display of light and dark, wealth and simplicity. Wherever So-Yeon went, I followed, her sun casting a long shadow that I was content to inhabit.

Our teachers often remarked on our closeness, intrigued by the sight of the Kim family heiress sharing her snacks with the daughter of the help. It was a relationship that defied explanation, and one that persisted through the years. By the time we were six, our friendship had solidified into something steadfast. The routines of our days followed a rhythm that only the two of us could truly understand.

In the vast gardens of the Kim family estate, we would spend hours playing together, creating worlds that only we could inhabit. Our laughter would dance and perform through the open spaces, a reminder of the joy that existed in the midst of our differing circumstances. Our parents watched us from the sidelines, my mother's tired eyes reflecting a quiet happiness at the sight of her daughter finding solace in a world that was not hers by right.

The long summer days stretched out before us, our minds and hearts unburdened by the weight of societal expectations. Together, we climbed trees, built forts, and explored hidden corners of the garden as if they were uncharted territory. So-Yeon's tutors would often call out for her to come inside for her lessons, but she would merely glance back with a mischievous grin, her fingers still tightly wrapped around mine.

The sunsets of those days were magical, casting a golden hue that seemed to make everything glow. We would sit together in the garden, So-Yeon and I, our backs against a tree, watching the sky change colors as the world around us grew still. In those moments, the chasm of class and privilege seemed to vanish, and we were just two six-year-olds sharing dreams of a world that was ours alone.