by Leigh Ban
West Seoul University Box Set
Leigh Ban
Copyright © 2019 by Leigh Ban
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. All resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
Contents
Rich Boyfriend, Famous Boyfriend
Boy Band Boyfriend
The Fake Boyfriend Lesson
Also by Leigh Ban
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Rich Boyfriend, Famous Boyfriend
A celebrity and a billionaire both want... me?
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Prologue
“Welcome on board, Miss Hart. Would you like some Champagne or orange juice?”
Champagne? I stared at the flight attendant, pleasantly surprised once I realized I’d officially entered the territory of a lower legal drinking age.
“Yes, I would,” I replied as I took out a pair of fleece-lined slippers from my amenity kit.
The flight attendant asked again with a smile, “Would you prefer Champagne or orange juice?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Could I have Champagne?”
While the flight attendant poured me a drink, I put on the slippers and wiggled my toes in anticipation for takeoff. Just as I received my Champagne flute, a sharp squeal came from the seats across the aisle, and I flinched.
“Are you alright, Miss Hart?” asked the flight attendant, handing me a paper napkin.
“Thank you,” I said, then stretched my neck to peer behind her and find out what was going on.
The woman in the aisle seat took off her glasses and hissed, “Please calm down. Everyone on the plane can hear you.”
Though I couldn’t see the face of the other woman, who sat by the window, I could hear her reply as if she were right next to me.
“No way! He’s going to propose to you. The timing would be perfect. That must be why he was glad you’re taking a semester off.”
I sipped from my flute while the woman in the aisle seat sighed.
“Whatever. We’re not in a rush to tie the knot.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not looking forward to the proposal. Come on, Sora, we both know you’re going to get the most extravagant fairy-tale proposal. Oh my goodness, my sister’s going to marry a billionaire.”
Chapter One
When I stepped out of Monday’s Hair with a bob, I finally felt like I fit in with the beautiful, well-dressed crowd in the sophisticated cafés and designer boutiques all over Cheongdam Fashion Street. I’d only been in Seoul for a week, but I knew the basics; Cheongdam was one of South Korea’s most affluent and fashionable neighborhoods.
“Stella, we’re just getting started.”
Grandma gave me a satisfied grin. The moment she saw me with my unruly waist-length hair at the airport, she had insisted on booking an appointment for me at the hair salon. After I’d spent my first days in Seoul lazing around my grandparents’ luxury villa, overcoming jet lag, then preparing for the semester by filling out paperwork and running errands, Grandma was determined to pamper me with a mini makeover.
“You don’t need to get me anything,” I replied, blushing. I was still trying to get used to talking in Korean all the time. I had grown up biracial in Illinois, and Mom taught me the language by speaking Korean with me at home.
“No, Stella.” Grandma pursed her lips before smiling at me again. “Listen, love, here in Korea it is a rite of passage. When a young girl or boy enters university, of course they want to try new hairstyles and experiment with their fashion, right? I’m your grandmother. I want you to strut around knowing you’ve got the best style on campus. We’re getting you all the clothes and accessories you need. Then we can go to the dermatologist. This is the least I can do to help you settle in.”
“I’m not entering university though. Grandma, I’m in my second year.”
She shook her head. “Stella, the trends here are completely different from what you seem used to. In Cheongdam, people don’t wear beat-up sneakers when they’re out shopping.”
I glanced down at my feet. Since I wore my dingy white Converse everywhere back in my hometown, I had forgotten to pack spare footwear. Although Grandma had offered me a pair of her Chanel ballerina flats, her feet were so tiny I didn’t dare try them on.
Grandma took me to the Nuria Department Store and insisted that she was getting me new shoes for the upcoming semester. Each boutique showcased its new spring collection a little differently. When Grandma saw that I was drawn to a bright and colorful store window, she immediately led me inside. Despite being clueless when it came to fashion, I was excited to see such a creative display of dainty heels and cute sneakers, though I couldn’t help but gasp when I saw the price tag.
“Grandma, this is insane.”
She furrowed her brow.
I added, “I wear out my shoes far too quickly. I don’t trust myself with the expensive kind, especially since I’ll be walking around campus all the time.”
“Stella, let me get you a nice pair of dressy shoes. I firmly believe that good shoes take you to good places. I want you to feel confident no matter where you end up. Then we can go wherever you’d like for a pair of comfortable sneakers too.”
Grandma and I walked out of the Nuria Department Store with five large shopping bags, including two new pairs of designer shoes. Because I hadn’t expected to be treated so lavishly, I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. In my head, I devised a plan to skip the skin treatment, considering that it would likely be as eye-wateringly expensive as the shopping spree and my new hairstyle.
As I turned to face Grandma, I stretched my arms and let out the slowest yawn possible.
“Are you already tired, love?”
I nodded and yawned once more.
“You’re not very energetic, are you, dear? Well, my feet are a little sore too. Should we go to a nearby café to sit down for some coffee and cake? I know the perfect place for young people like you.”
We left the shopping bags in her Bentley. After walking for a couple of minutes, we went into a tall building and took an elevator to the second floor. With a minimalistic interior and white marble tables, the inside of the café was bright with sunlight coming in through the large windows. Once I scanned the seating area to check which tables were empty, I peered at the counter and froze. Standing there with a glowing smile was the most gorgeous person I’d ever seen. With a tall and lean frame, he looked like he was coming from the runways of New York Fashion Week, although he was simply sporting a plain black T-shirt. I stood there, lost for words, when Grandma began talking.
“Could you order me a latte, love? I’m going to the bathroom.”
As I made my way toward the counter, I was in awe of his flawless skin, which was supple and smooth like he’d emerged from the closing scene of a shaving ad.
> “Welcome to Café K. How can I help you?”
My heart raced as I got a closer look at his face. He was a little younger than I’d originally thought, perhaps my age.
“Oh, hi.” I gulped. “Could I order a latte and… um, two lattes, please?”
“Sure. So you’d like to order two lattes? Or did you want three?”
“Two lattes. Hang on. No, I’m lactose intolerant. Only one latte. I’d also like…”
I hurriedly read the menu on the wall behind him. My cheeks heated up as I tried not to think about his face. I wanted to quickly finish ordering, but there were so many drinks to choose from.
“We have a seasonal menu too. Our strawberry juice came out this week. It’s pretty tasty.”
“Great, I’ll have that. One strawberry juice and one latte, please.”
Once I paid for the order, I took the buzzer and sat down at the table closest to the counter. Although I intended to move over to some more spacious seats after I collected the drinks, Grandma came over and started hanging her fur-trimmed coat on the back of an empty chair.
“Grandma, should we go and sit somewhere roomier?”
Her eyes were gleaming. “No, I don’t mind. I like this seat.”
As we enjoyed our drinks, I tried to forget about the attractive cashier. I was spending the day with my grandmother, for goodness sake. However, while Grandma explained how she’d found out about the café, I finished my juice and went back to thinking about my brief interaction with the cashier. I didn’t want to be caught staring at him, yet I couldn’t help but turn my head whenever I heard him greet a customer.
Once we left Café K, Grandma tapped on my shoulder.
“Stella, did you see someone you know?”
I shook my head furiously and let out an awkward laugh.
That night, I saw the cashier from Café K, but he was no longer a cashier. He sat next to me in class and spoke in English. I could feel his eyes on me as I took notes on Aristotle. While I wrote in my notebook, I felt his foot brush against my leg under the desk. When I looked up at his face, he flashed the cutest smile, revealing his immaculate white teeth.
From the front of the lecture hall, the professor announced, “Now, could all of you turn to the person sitting beside you? Please have a five-minute discussion on the nature of virtue before we move on.”
“Stella, my goodness, Stella.” The cashier, who was now my classmate, tilted his head a little as he spoke. “I think the nature of virtue is to have an outstanding existence. What is an outstanding existence? I used to wonder about that, until I saw…”
He cupped my cheek and stared into my eyes longingly. My heart was thumping but I gently slapped his hand away.
“Hey, we’re in class,” I whispered.
As I tried to calm myself, he leaned over until our noses almost touched.
“Too bad you weren’t around in 340 BC to teach Aristotle about your outstanding existence.”
He pressed his lips against mine.
When I woke up, I knew I had to return to Café K. I couldn’t dream about him while not even knowing his name. Though I tried to recall whether he had worn a name tag, I couldn’t remember. I wondered if he was a part-time employee and prayed he’d be working there today.
“Hey, Grandma,” I called out, entering the living room. “I’m thinking of going to that café we went to yesterday.”
“You are?”
“To complete some tasks on my laptop and check if there’s anything I need to prepare for my classes.”
“Of course.” Grandma nodded while she popped a strawberry into my mouth using a fork. “Stella, I’m glad you liked Café K! Kyungsook is going to be so pleased to hear that when I meet her next time.”
“Who’s she?”
“My friend Kyungsook. Didn’t I tell you yesterday? She owns the café as well as the building it’s in. She’s very hip with a young soul.”
I laughed. “Oh, must’ve slipped from my mind. You know, Grandma, you’re hip as well.”
“Thank you, love, but I mean Kyungsook understands what young people are drawn to better than anybody else our age. She has family members working in fashion, so she employs male models who need some extra income to work at her café.”
“Wow.”
I took the last strawberry from the china plate on the coffee table and pictured the cashier from yesterday. He was tall with not a single blemish on his face. No wonder he was probably a model.
“Isn’t Kyungsook business savvy?”
Grandma chuckled as she took the empty plate and left the living room.
After I took a quick shower, rejoicing in how easily I could wash and dry my new bob, I decided to dress up a little. I wore a cream cashmere cardigan, which Grandma bought me during our shopping spree, buttoned up. Then I went into the walk-in closet of the guestroom and flipped through each item of clothing to ultimately pick out my trusty pair of jeans.
“Where are you headed, Lala?”
Grandpa appeared from the hallway, clutching his cane. He started calling me “Lala” when I visited Seoul as a child. He jokingly claimed Stella was too long for him. Even though these days Grandma told him “Lala” was a silly way to refer to a young lady, I loved how the nickname made me feel closer to him, as if I’d grown up around my grandparents all my life.
“Grandpa, I’m just going to a café close by.”
He replied, “See you at dinner.”
On my walk to Café K, I tried to contain how thrilled I was at the thought of seeing the cashier. Growing up in the small town of Dounesville, I had gotten used to seeing the same group of guys. During freshman year, I realized I was sick of the monotony. I regretted my choice to stay in my hometown and attend Dounesville University, a notoriously studious school where Dad was a history professor. While Mom originally recommended that I study in South Korea so I could experience the culture and spend time with my grandparents, another important reason I applied to spend a year at West Seoul University was to be more adventurous and benefit from a change of pace.
As soon as I arrived at the café, I veered toward the counter. There was nobody there.
“Would you like to order?”
A man in an apron smiled at me as he rushed to the counter.
“I’d like a glass of strawberry juice,” I replied before I had the chance to second-guess my decision to stay and wait. After I paid, I sat down at the same table as the day before and began sipping on my strawberry juice.
“Hey, Phil, thanks for coming to help out again.”
“No worries. But we’re going out for pork belly once this shift ends, okay?”
When I heard a familiar voice, I turned toward the counter and saw the cashier—my cashier. Phil, that was the name of the most good-looking man I’d ever laid eyes on. I couldn’t help but stare at him as he greeted the customers and took their orders with a smile. After half an hour of observing Phil, trying to be inconspicuous by glancing down at my phone screen every couple of minutes or so, I realized most of the other customers, from teenage girls in school uniforms to classy middle-aged women wearing tweed jackets, couldn’t stop themselves from staring at him either.
Three drinks and five hours later, I left Café K feeling utterly hopeless. I wondered how many people might hit on him or slip a note with their number into his pocket during a single afternoon. Phil was the type of guy the most glamorous girls fought over. Meanwhile, the only thing I could do was try to meet him in my dreams.
Chapter Two
“Stella, we’re going out in two hours, okay?” Dana told me as I walked into our dorm room.
We lived on the ninth floor of International House, a dormitory for West Seoul University students with foreign citizenship, exchange students, and any other students who wanted to be in a multicultural environment.
“Again? We start classes tomorrow. How am I going to get there if I’m hungover and struggling to wake up?” I said, putting my room card into the slot by the door.
After we’d met a week ago, at the end of February, Dana and I instantly clicked. Before she entered West Seoul University two years ago as a freshman, she had spent half of her childhood in Texas, where the African-American side of her family was from. When we were in our room, we spoke in English most of the time.
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? The professors don’t even check the attendance during the first week, Stella. That means they’ve given us their blessings to enjoy the start of the semester.”
“Alright, alright. Just warning you, I might get tired and come back early.”
To me, Dana was an expert in Seoul’s nightlife scene for college students. She wanted to take me under her wing to ensure I had the best year possible. While I had fun when I went out with her, my favorite part was the process of getting ready together. Since I was an only child, she felt like the big sister I never had. Although she was only a year older than me, she joked that she was going to be my dorm mom, occasionally calling me “Room 901 Kid” after the number of our room.
I held up a black vinyl miniskirt that I’d only worn once for Halloween. “Do you think it’s too cold to wear this with bare legs?”
“Probably, but you should go for it.” Dana winked.
I pretended to be bashful and we burst out laughing.
“Stella, you’ll be stunning. I’m going to be busy shooing away a long line of guys asking for your number.”
