"I would have married you if I could," Vivian said with a laugh, kissing her friend's cheek. "Unfortunately, Ben promised me babies and a pretty house."
"That's what I get for loving a bossy, material girl," Celia joked, because that was what she did around Vivian. She laughed again as Celia ushered her back towards her hairstylist.
"I am so glad you didn't go to Seoul for that scholarship," Vivian said, pouting and sitting on the makeup chair. "You and I would never have met! What if you had gone? Ben and I would never have even fallen in love!"
Celia snorted. If only she had gone to Seoul. She met Vivian at her internship with some now defunct magazine. They shared a desk, and they had been friends ever since. If she had gone, her graduation would have been delayed, and who knows what would have happened?
"What is it with everyone and their what ifs today?" Celia asked, trying to ignore the stabbing pain the question brought her. It served Celia right for introducing the wonderful, perfect Vivian to sweet, romantic Ben. Sometimes she wished she had gone away without introducing them. Maybe their story would have been completely different. Then she would have had her own story, her own ending.
CHAPTER THREE
SEOUL
"IT'S PERFECTLY alright miss, happens all the time." The Korean man behind the glass of the information booth smiled warmly. It was an early autumn morning in Seoul, and in Sinchon station, people were starting their usual rush to work. Unfortunately for this young foreigner, her T-money card didn't have enough balance to let her through. Commuters were starting to yell, so the man at the information booth was made to intercede. On the other side of the glass, the harried and slightly confused exchange student blinked at him.
"Er...English?" She asked hesitantly. The man simply smiled and slipped her T-money card back to her, and gestured that she could go. Bowing slightly and mumbling “kamsahamnida,” 21-year old Celia Alix grabbed her things and hurried along to the proper station exit. It was the first day of her semester in Yonsei University, and she was running late.
“Where are you?” Henry's repeated, frantic texts were filling up her inbox as she hurried up the street. It was a crisp and warm autumn day in Seoul, and while tourists and residents were admiring the yellows and reds of the foliage, Celia was stomping at leaves and jumping over puddles on her way to the university gate. She had put on her favorite sunflower shirt for luck, only to have it soaked in the drizzle. The cheap plastic umbrella she'd purchased from G25 the other day was useless now, and she had tossed it aside just in time to run into someone.
"Ow! Ya, just who do you think you are?" Her run-over victim seethed from his spot on the pavement. His butt landed squarely in a puddle, and her rain boot was just a foot from his face. Celia scrambled to her feet, repeating apologies in English until she remembered where she was.
"Che-su-ham-ni-da," she said stiffly to the stranger, thoroughly embarrassed. "Can I offer you a hand? Uh...help...you?"
The guy simply glared at her, sneering at the hand she had extended. "Forget it," he said in perfect English. "Just get out of my face."
If Celia wasn't in such a hurry she would have given the guy a piece of her mind for being a jerk, but decided she had no time. Throwing him a withering stare, Celia picked up her bag and ran off to the direction of her classroom just a few feet away, where Henry had seen the entire exchange. Like Celia, Henry was an exchange student, although he had been in Yonsei since his first year. They had been exchanging emails since she first received her acceptance letter, and she was more than happy to see him there. She was just relieved she wouldn't be alone on her first day, even if this is only, technically, their second meeting. He didn't seem surprised to see the scowl on Celia's face.
"I see you met Ben-sunbaenim," he said coolly, nudging his head at the direction of the collision. Celia frowned and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"It has a name?" She asks sarcastically, making Henry laugh as he ushered her into the classroom with him. "Do you know him?"
"Everyone does," Henry remarked, running a hand through his hair to look cool. He was dressed in slim, straight cut jeans, folded at the ankles. He matched this with expensive-looking boat shoes and a cotton shirt, its collar popped up to tickle against his earlobes. Anywhere else Henry would be the picture of cool, but in Seoul, he just seemed...normal. Just another guy on the street. But to Celia he was the only person she knew in the whole country, cooler and definitely more important than anyone she might crash into and leave sitting in a puddle on the ground.
"Ben-sunbae is the only son of the company that holds all the rights to every nerd-related merchandise, making him the biggest chaebol in school, and biggest jerk."
There were a lot of questions that popped into Celia’s mind at that sentence, so she decided to ask in the order that she heard it. ”Sunbae? So he's an upperclassman?" Celia asked, and Henry nodded. Fortunately, it looked like the professor for Creative Writing and Journalism was going to be late. Around them, students were on their phones, chatting, snapping selfies, and playing games. Celia realized that there was no place in Seoul that was ever quiet and made her shudder a little. "And chaebol? Is that Korean for asshole?"
"Yaaaaa," Henry's voice turned throaty, like he was about to spit. He shook his head. "No. Chaebol means that he's to inherit to the family fortune, sense of entitlement not included."
"Oh, like Paris Hilton? How nice for him," Celia joked, shaking her hair free of her tight bun to help it dry. She could swear she saw a couple of girls look scandalized at the sight of her wet hair. Henry sighed. He continued his explanation of Ben Son Chan and his family riches. Ben’s father has a production company in Gangnam that holds sole license to distribute items from the Star Wars franchise, Lord of the Rings, and Marvel. Tom Hiddleston’s arrival in Seoul had all been thanks to their family and their connections. Ben’s flawless English was credited to his summers spent in California. To have him follow you on Weibo, Me2Day, Instagram, or Twitter was considered a high honor, especially in Yonsei. Tattooine Productions was known all over Seoul as geek HQ, and even Henry dreamed of working there someday. The appeal, however, was lost on Celia.
"I think it best to avoid him if you can, Celia," he said, although it came out sounding more like ‘seerya.’ Henry had only been in Seoul for two years, but already he was starting to sound like a local. "You and I have better things to do than worry about guys like that."
She smiled and agreed wholeheartedly. She was here to learn, to absorb a whole new culture. No time for handsome guys with soaked skinny jeans and pretty eyes.
Drat.
Meanwhile, Ben and his soaking wet jeans were sitting at a restaurant near Sinchon Station, the always trendy CM's Box. Tucked behind the main street, CM's Box was a construction-themed pizza and pasta joint that he had been religiously visiting since he started studying in Yonsei University. Ben was a very picky eater, and CM's Box was the only place near school he ever bothered with. Their iced Americanos were decent, and their chocolate pizza was a classic.
Right now, the student set were busy pursuing intellectual pleasures, so the restaurant was filled with young couples sharing pasta and giggling among themselves over the free ice cream. Some Top 40 K-pop station was playing, the sounds muted just enough for him to hear the usual clatter and noise of the place. He could hear more yelling and banging from inside the kitchen, sounding not too different from an actual construction site. Picking up one of the tools from the wall behind him, Ben twirled it absentmindedly between his fingers for want of a distraction. He wondered vaguely where his usual iced Americano was. Surely the staff of CM's Box knew well enough what their regular customer wanted.
He was having lunch with Kang Mi Young, although she preferred to go by her English name, Vivian. She looked immaculate as usual, with her trendy oxblood skirt, heels, and leather jacket, and a face that did not require plastic surgery (although her mother insisted she get a nose job soon). She was sitting beside him, economics book
s spread across the tiny table she insisted they share. Ben frowned and dropped his pencil on the table, making her look at him.
"Oppa, we haven't finished yet," she said in that begging, baby tone of hers that drove Ben crazy sometimes. It was only the first day of the semester, and already he was bored.
"Then we don't finish," he shrugged. "Don't you find it just slightly ridiculous that you're tutoring me on Economics? You're an abnormal psychology major. And you're younger than me."
"I promised your parents that I would help you pass this year," she said in crystal clear English. "Just go back to the reading. The follow-up questions should be easier if you bother to finish."
There was a do-it-or-die edge to her voice that made Ben want to roll his eyes. He'd known Vivian since they were kids. When they were younger, she was the genius (boasting an IQ of 130) and the bossiest person he'd ever met. She loved telling him what to do. Some would find that annoying; for Ben, it was normal. He spent his entire life being told what to do, what difference would little Mi Young make?
"Besides," she said, quickly putting the books aside as their pizza arrived. "I am set to inherit my mother's shipping company. You and I are engaged to be married. Basic economics is...basic."
Ah yes. There was that. Since they could walk, Ben and Vivian were told that they would be married as soon as they graduated, so their parents' great companies would merge and create a global movie production company that toppled the world. South Korean movies wouldn’t just be about love and romance, but action, adventure and mystery, taking place in exotic locations, and become famous all over the world. Ben didn't know if he was worth that.
Vivian, however, was over the moon and completely sold on the idea of marrying Ben. There was something romantic about their engagement. To Little Mi Young, the kid that was bullied for being too smart and bossy, was going to marry the boy who always stood up for her. The match was practical, the boy was ideal and there was no logical reason not to do it, and so her heart was set. She could have gone to Seoul National or even an Ivy League in America, but she stayed in Yonsei just to be closer to him. Their impending marriage was now more important to her than anything else, which disappointed Ben just slightly.
"Who pushed you into a puddle?" Vivian asked suddenly, biting into her pizza, looking at his chambray skinny jeans up and down. "You look like you've been playing in the rain."
His jeans were ruined now. Ben's brows furrowed as he remembered the girl who had knocked him over. He could see the sunflower on her shirt in his mind like it was right in front of him. Ben could squint and remember the thin tendrils of wet hair on the stranger’s face, the shade of her cheeks as they flushed with embarrassment. Clearly she didn't know who he was, but she was apologetic. There was a gentleness and sincerity about her that made his chest feel warm. Her eyes were bright and clear, a perfect shade of brown against the autumn leaves they had fallen on. Ben shook his head. He wasn't sure why he would describe them that way. Being a business major usually gave little room to wax poetic about accidents and strange encounters.
"How did you know I was pushed in?" He asked, although he could already guess the answer. Part of Vivian's intellect included keen observation skills, a la Sherlock Holmes. It was part of the reason why she had chosen to take psychology above anything else. Patterns of behavior fascinated her, and as long as she took Psychology as a double major to International Business, she was free to do as she wished. It wasn’t like she was going to be the one to run their new empire. That was Ben’s job.
"The stains are only on the back, and focus on your butt," she pointed out, smiling. She shook her head. "Ottoke oppa, you're just going to walk around in wet pants?"
Ben chuckled and shook his head. It should be easy as anything to drop by a store before going back to school. He knew that shopping for him was one of Vivian’s favorite pastimes. It combined two of her favorite things—telling Ben what to do and people watching, although he didn’t think that people watching usually included Vivian blurting out psych terms when appropriate. He also knew that she secretly picked out clothes for him that would match what she had in her closet. Even if she would never admit it, she loved seeing him match with her. As if she needed a reason to feel worthy of him. Intellectual pleasures would have to wait.
"You're wasted on me, Viv," Ben said, getting up from his seat and affectionately ruffling the top of her hair. He didn’t know why he kept doing that to her. Vivian apparently did, because she would frown at his touch, as if disappointed that this was as much affection as he would allow between them.
"True," She answered, flipping aside her glossy brown hair like he never ruffled her hair like a five year old. "But it's not really up to you and me, is it?"
As the weeks wore on, Celia’s Korean improved. With Henry's unflagging support and unending patience, she learned to go to the supermarket and ask for what she wanted. She knew how to ask for directions, order at restaurants, and tell time. He even devised a little game to help her vastly improve her vocabulary, taking advantage of her love for watching Korean dramas.
"A nun leaves the convent, dresses like a boy and joins a band," He said, watching Celia rearrange postcards on a small selling table. Celia frowned, thinking of a response. Drama titles were so easy to say in English. The Korean words were very hard to connect to the drama storyline. She grinned and answered "mi-na-mi-shi-yo," in her budding Korean accent. "He's Handsome."
"Shi-ne-yo," Henry corrected her. "Remember, Korean language has no he or she, so the title literally says, 'you're beautiful.'"
"Aww, thank you!" Celia cooed, making Henry laugh and roll his eyes.
It was a warm, crisp autumn afternoon in Hongdae Children's Park. The park was full of tourists and young students looking to buy handmade crafts by art students at low prices, called the Free Market, which Celia thought was a clever play on Korean pronunciation of ‘flea’ (until Henry told her it was definitely not intended). The children's park had been transformed into a hub for the university students nearby, graffiti lining the concrete walls and play sets, street performers on the side. Henry had been selling post cards of his art to fund his school materials, paints, canvases, and the like. Celia helped out to improve her Korean.
"Ne, kamsahamnida!" She chirped happily at a couple who walked away with 5,000-won worth of post cards. Henry was brilliant at watercolor, and loved to paint things he found interesting--a bison skull with earphones from a cafe, shoes being sold along Ewha University. It also helped that girls thought he was cute, leaving their numbers on the bills. Celia thought it was funny.
These last few weeks in Seoul were like a breath of fresh air for Celia. All her classes were new and entertaining. Although they were electives, she loved being able to write and read from a different perspective, albeit a Korean one. Sure the classes demanded more than what she was used to, but she loved the challenge. Her professors were brilliant, and every day with Henry was an adventure. It was like she was in this lovely Korean bubble, full of walks to Hongdae, shopping in Ewha and jumping into fall leaves in Sinchon. If her two years would pass like this, she wouldn’t mind.
"Right," Henry said, yawning. Sometimes painting kept him up until the late hours, so he usually went for a coffee run halfway through the day. Fortunately, there was a cafe right behind the park. There was always a cafe in Seoul, more common than fast food chains like McDonald’s or Lotteria. ”Cup of coffee for you, Minami-ji?"
Celia laughed at the nickname Henry christened her with. She learned quickly that Henry was playful and flirtatious by nature. He just had that kind of natural charm that everyone around him responded to. Celia had been around boys in Manila long enough to know that Henry’s brand of flirting was completely harmless and friendly. Truth be told, she kind of liked it. His easy flirting was so different from the shyness and indifference of boys her age back home.
"Okay, but get yourself something healthier!" She answered, tugging Henry's jacket closer to his body
and making sure it was zipped close. As she looked up at him, she saw a look cross his face, one that she had never seen on him before. Like he was nervous or something. But it was gone before Celia could study it a bit more, and Henry was Henry again. He had mentioned once that coffee made his hands shake, so she knew to make him drink something else. He rolled his eyes.
"Ne, omma," he joked and jogged away from the art mart, leaving Celia alone. She decided not to think about that look anymore. Surely it was nothing. She smiled politely at the caricaturist across from them, about to engage in conversation when she saw someone walking up the hill to the park.
And I thought stuff like this would be beneath him, she thought wryly as she spotted Ben Son Chan walk around the park. It was the first time she had seen him since bumping into him, and her first chance to really observe him. He had gotten a haircut since she saw him last, but everything else about him still had a touch of arrogance to it (the coffee cup in his hand made him look especially douche-y). He had his hands in the pockets of his slim cut Galliano chinos, his emerald green Kenzo sweater standing out against the red, orange, and yellow foliage around him. His time in California didn’t show at all, and she had to wonder if he had more makeup on than her. His light brown eyes were small, almost squinting in the afternoon light as he lifted his Tom Ford sunglasses from his eyes. He was listening to music from his phone, and Celia tried not to notice how his large hands were veined and sinewy, the muscles of his arms taut as he pulled his sweater cuffs to his elbows.
He looked like a Korean superstar who just walked on set. He was ‘prettier’ than she would ever be, and Celia hated that about him.
Cities Page 2
