Sun & Moon

THIRTY SEVEN

Despite his late start to the day, Doyoung finds himself pleasantly content. The air around him seems to be shimmering in positivity, and a sense of peace rests gracefully in his body. This is soon interrupted when he receives a call from his assistant.

He answers with dread, knowing it has something to do with his father's words from yesterday. "Ms. Kang... It is the weekend," he says slowly as if he does not constantly work on weekends himself.

"Yes, really sorry about that," she answers breathily. "I wanted to let you know you have a dinner appointment today. Your father asked me to set it up for you."

Doyoung can tell she is nervous about the relay of information. He only closes his eyes, holding back a groan of discontent. "Alright. Just text me the information." He hangs up after getting a conformation, and the comfort of prior fades away.

Rather than the anxiety from the day before, Doyoung is only filled with slight annoyance with a tinge of indignation. "One meeting only," he murmurs to himself as if the concreteness of the words will make his wish come true.

. . .

Evening gradually creeps up on Doyoung's back. The dimming sky is a pesky reminder of Doyoung's meeting as if it is pointing its finger and laughing at him in mockery. The back of Doyoung's neck feels heated as he drives to the restaurant, and he often mumbles a whine of vexation under his breath.

Upon arrival, Doyoung quickly murmurs to the hostess about a reservation and is immediately led to an upstairs balcony seat. He is the first to arrive, so he sits and admires the city lights as he waits.

The hum of the city gradually calms Doyoung. The amalgamation of cars steadily rolling down the street and people talking on the sidewalks is familiar and warm. The air itself carries affability as it glides by in gentle strokes of wind.

Doyoung sighs to himself, suddenly feeling that sense of smallness one ever only feels late at night. He knows he holds such an important position materialistically, but he cannot help but wonder if it is all worth it regarding his place in the world.

A waiter suddenly opens the door to the balcony, leading in a woman. She wears a dark emerald dress; the lace wraps around her arms and creates an open "V" at her collarbones. Her eyes are sharp and slanted. Upon seeing Doyoung, she lets out a cold smile, one that Doyoung is immediately disoriented by.

Doyoung stands up politely and greets the woman.

"I'm a bit late, aren't I," she says apologetically as she sits down.

"No worries." Doyoung's voice is blunt and forward.

"That was on purpose." She smiles privately and casts her almost greyish eyes down upon the table.

Doyoung feels as if someone has swung a metal pipe at him. "Ms. Jeong Jiyeon..." Doyoung starts to say, but he trails off before finishing. He is utterly disconcerted by her apathy towards their meeting. "I don't understand," he finally lets out with a breath.

She purses her lips after taking a sip of water. Then, another brisk leer shows up on her face. "Well, you didn't want to be here either. Yet here you are." Her rich, chocolatey hair tumbles around at her chin. "I ought to be as polite as you are."

The brusqueness of Jiyeon's tone sets Doyoung off. He is not sure what to make of it, nor can he comprehend whatever hidden message she wants him to receive. He clears his throat and picks up the menu, wanting to think for a while before saying anything about the situation. "Shall we order?" he says instead, trying to keep his voice level.