My Seoul Man

Chapter 31

Hae Won swiped her cell with a perfectly manicured fingertip and said, "There is absolutely no reason for us to be in our seats so early! No, we're ready, but the heat from all the lights and equipment--we'll be all wilted by the time the broadcast starts."

The "broadcast" was a live induction ceremony for the Time Top 100—you remember that, right? AJ begged me to let this be my first baby step into his celebrity world if he could find a way to slip me past the media.

Hae Won swiped "off" and glanced over from the chair next to mine in her salon room—yes, she had an entire beauty salon in her house of course. "It's a good thing he wrote his little acceptance speech on a note card. Cause when he looks down and sees you looking like that..."

I wasn't sure he'd even recognize me. Cause the face staring back at me in that mirror was a version of myself I'd never met before.

They had sort of erased my natural face and drawn it back on—the way drag queens do, you know? Made me an idealized, wax museum replica of the Eboni I knew.

And they'd stuffed my Bantu butt into a bustier ensemble all cinched at the waist and hugging the hills and valleys all the way down to about mid-calf.

Had to open the back seam up to just above the knee in back so I could walk in the damned thing. And the Louboutins were so steep I still toddled like a geisha even after that.

Plus, the hairdresser had slicked my hair back into a curly ponytail with some kind of gel designed to keep it from frizzing up so I looked like a Black Barbie doll. The original 50s one, swear to God.

Hae Won looked like Hae Won. I mean, she was born looking like some artist had drawn her features on with one of those real fine brushes that make the most delicate, perfect lines.

She narrowed her deftly outlined eyes when I stood up and slung the press pass lavalier around my neck. "Hope we didn't go too far. Reporters don't dress for these things as a rule. You have the press card, too, right? In case they get weird."

I wasn't the least bit worried, though.

I'd been there when AJ told her, "Your family probably owns the company that owns the magazine for Chrissake! Pull some strings."

And it took her only took her a couple of phone calls to get me credentials as a "contributing writer" for some glossy European magazine. I've actually forgotten what it was called, but I had to learn the names of all the editors and whatnot, too. One in particular, who would take the call if a call became necessary.

Easy peasy as all that had been, getting all tarted up for the thing made me deeply grateful that AJ and I would be off to see the mythical America in his head in only a few more days.

They were being mad strict with the protocols that evening because it was the first time they'd ever broadcast the induction ceremony live.

So pretty soon one of Hae Won's assistants came bustling in to bustle us out to the sedan that was sitting there glistening like patent leather in the sunlight.

That skirt made it kinda hard for me to get in, but I sort of scooched my butt in first, and swung my legs around, after.

Hae Won had chosen this "fit and flare" kind of retro ensemble. She looked like a Korean Audrey Hepburn. Slid in as gracefully as you'd expect.

And took hold of my hand as the car pulled off and said, "I'm so glad you're here for him."

"And thank you for making that happen."

She paused to check her cell and then said, "You should do this, too. We'll all have to shut them off once the broadcast starts. You can't even let them vibrate."