Another Life With You

The Song for My Brother

Ri Jeong-hyeok wouldn't have thought so, but being a personal bodyguard was as mundane of a job as being a soldier in the military. If he thought about it, the only thing which had changed was the backdrop. Instead of patrolling the forests, he patrolled hallways. Instead of standing at the guard post, he stood outside Yoon Seri's door. It turned out that she really did spend most of her days (and often nights) at her office. Occasionally, now that she was Chairwoman, she would drop by Queen's Group for various meetings, but the bulk of her time (and by extension, his time) was spent at Seri's Choice HQ.

Who was he fooling? Jeong-hyeok liked the routine and the order. The other guards would sometimes tease him that he was taking the job too seriously. "We're only guarding her from some celebrity's harmless fans," they would say, when they caught Jeong-hyeok checking the CCTV outside of his work hours. "Just treat it as a high-paid way to spend the day zoning out," they would tell him, after he had rejected their offer to relax in the pantry for the dozenth time in favour of remaining stationed by Seri's office door.

How different they were to his Company Five troop. Despite being goofy and raucous, Chi-su, Kwang-beom, Ju-meok and Eun-dong had always taken their jobs seriously and followed orders without question. Except for the day of Jeong-hyeok's escape. That day, they had all flouted orders from higher up to detain Jeong-hyeok, instead escorting him to the border where they had said their teary farewells.

Jeong-hyeok sighed at the thought of them, then startled and stood straight when he heard the door handle turn. Seri emerged from her office. He surreptitiously checked his watch – it was 7:30pm, earlier than she usually finished work.

"I'm going to dinner," Seri said, smiling at his surprise. Her lips were a rosy shade of pink today. She was wearing an oversized, fluffy yellow cardigan, and a thin diamond necklace was draped across her neck. He trailed behind her as they made their way out of the building.

At her car, Seri slipped into the driver's seat, and he the passenger side, as usual.

Seri paused before starting the engine. "You know, you can take the night off," Seri said. "I'm only going to dinner with someone, and we've booked out the whole restaurant. It will be safe enough."

Someone? Jeong-hyeok tried to tamp down his curiosity. "It's what you're paying me for," he only said.

Seri let out a huff of a smile and shook her head as she started the car.

It didn't seem to be her habit to turn the radio or music on during car rides. Jeong-hyeok always wondered whether the silence helped her to think better – that was how it was with him, anyway. The traffic was particularly bad downtown during this time of the evening. Seri's frustration seemed to mount with every minute she had to stall and wait on the highway.

"Aigo, I wish I could just helicopter across town," she sighed, leaning her head back into the headrest and briefly closing her eyes. Jeong-hyeok was facing forward but could sense when she rolled her head sideways to look at him. "Hey, Ri Jeong-hyeok ssi. I'm curious..." here it was. The dreaded question that everyone asked when they learned he came from North Korea. "...what was your life like, up there? Or maybe that's too broad a question. Let's say... how was your life different to life in Seoul?"

The answer to the question he had imagined she would ask – Why did you defect? – was already on Jeong-hyeok's lips. He had to forcibly press them together when he heard her actual question. He did a sharp U-turn in his mind to reply.

"Different..." he mused, considering the question. "There are small things. Power outages, less variety of food, more conservative outfits. And big things – no Internet, having to control what you say. Controlling your expectations for life." He paused. Still from the corner of his eye, he noticed how his words drew Seri's attention and relished being the centre of it. "But there are a lot more similarities." He thought of his abeoji and his omma, whom he had arguments with and fond memories of and the deepest respect for. He thought of the military village where he had been stationed, and the ajummas who had hovered around for gossip and kept his pantry stocked. He thought of his fellow soldiers, with whom he had shared camaraderie and challenging times and warm meals. "Community. Family. Delicious food and good conversations."