CATALYST

TRAVIS

        For the first time since jumping on a plane in Japan, I started to wonder if I'd made a mistake.

      It wasn't like me at all. I tended to make decisions quickly, but afterward I wasn't the type to agonize over whether I'd made the right one or not. I trusted my gut.

      So last week, when my gut told me to stop dreaming about moving to Korea and make it happen already, I went with it. Booked a ticket, quit my job, packed a bag.

      In hindsight, I probably should have planned it out a little better.

      A friend of a friend—some guy named Jake—was supposed to be here at the airport to pick me up, but I'd been standing outside the international terminal at Incheon for two hours already, and he still hadn't shown. I hoped nothing was wrong, but I was starting to think I might have to go to Plan B.

      Not that I had a Plan B.

      Pretty much everything hinged on Jake. He'd found me an apartment, and I'd already wired him the money for one month's rent. I hadn't liked the idea of paying for something without seeing it, but Jake said if I didn't grab it, somebody else would, and he didn't know of any other place I could rent that cheap, especially on such short notice. I told him I'd take it and sent the money. I hadn't asked for the address, though.

      That was a mistake.

      I checked my phone again, like somehow it might have magically charged itself in my pocket. Still dead. Unfortunately, in my excitement to leave, I'd forgotten to throw my charger into my bag.

      Another mistake.

      Unable to stand still any longer, I crossed the street and jumped in a taxi.

      "Where to?" the driver asked.

      Well, fuck."

"Downtown," I decided, figuring I'd grab some food somewhere, maybe see if I could charge my phone. Hopefully Jake would get in touch in the next couple hours. If he didn't, I'd have to get a hotel tonight. It would be ridiculously expensive and I didn't want to waste that kind of money on one night, but I didn't see any way around it.

      It took a long time to get downtown—traffic was terrible. I was nodding off for the third time when the driver spoke.

      "What's the address?" He glanced back at me, and I blinked a few times."

"Uh, no particular address. Any suggestions for a bar or restaurant around here?"

      He scratched the top of his head with his thumb. "BlackLabel is pretty popular."

      "BlackLabel?" I repeated, a little confused. Maybe the words had different meanings than what I thought. My Korean was pretty scarce but Ive learned a few, but far from perfect.

      "It's not the Wine brand but the place is mostly black probably the owners favorite color" the driver scoffed. 

      "Ah." Quickly I pulled my notebook from my bag and scribbled that down. I wanted to be an artist, specifically composing and writing music, so not only did I have to improve my Korean, but I needed to learn all those little cultural details that would fit the authentic K-Pop sound. Which is a trend nowadays.

      My friends made fun of me for it, but I always carried a notebook with me so I'd have somewhere to take notes and write down all the lyrics and melody that came to me at random times during the day or night. I'd learned the hard way that I wouldn't necessarily remember them later. And since I'd sold my laptop last week to pad my savings a little, a notebook was all I had. As soon as I could afford it, I'd have to get a new computer.

But that would take a while.

A few minutes later, the driver pulled over and switched off the meter. "It's just up ahead there on the right."

I thanked him, paid him with some of the cash I'd gotten from the airport ATM, and jumped out. Even though I wasn't sure where I'd sleep tonight, it was hard not to feel excited as I walked up the street.

"Before today, I'd only seen places like this on a screen, but this was real. I was actually here. It made me feel invincible, like anything was possible.

A moment later, I pulled open The Black Label's heavy Black Metallic door and stepped inside. The light was low, the atmosphere warm, and the music upbeat. It was crowded, but I managed to find an empty seat at the long black marble bar.

"Hi there." The bartender smiled at me as I set my bag on the floor. She had dark hair pulled into a ponytail and big brown eyes. "I'm Sowon. What can I get for you?"

"Could I look at a menu, please?"

"Of course." She brought me a menu and I looked it over, deciding to order the most Korean thing I could think of.

"I'll have a Spicy Korean Wings with Kimchi Fried Rice And a beer." Ive been dying to taste their infamous Korean wings which I see on the internet all the time.

"Great. Can I see your ID?"

"Sure." I pulled out the travel wallet where I kept all my important documents, handed her my passport, and dropped the wallet back into my bag."

"Japanese, huh?" Sowon smiled at me again. "Are you here for work or just visiting?"

"Just visiting." I didn't want to jinx myself by announcing my intention to try to stay here for good. Technically, I could only stay for six months on my tourist visa, but I had no intention of using my return flight.

"Having a good time so far?"

"Well, I've only been here for about three hours, and I spent two of them waiting for my friend to pick me up from the airport, but he never showed."

~ 3 ~