Chapter 13
CHRISTMAS ISN’T A MAJOR FAMILY HOLIDAY IN Korea like it is in the States, but my parents and I still celebrate it like one. After all the sudden changes that happened on set in the last couple of weeks, I’m relieved for the quiet time I get to spend this weekend at home.
“Hana?” says Mom in the morning, knocking on my door. “Merry Christmas!”
When I open my door, I see that Mom’s bought a cute Christmas cake from our neighborhood bakery.
Korean cakes are works of art, especially around Christmas, since that’s when lots of people buy cake for their friends and family.
The one on our table looks like a snow globe, with a “glass” dome made of melted sugar encasing little presents shaped with icing on top.
It’s hard to believe that all of this is also edible.
“It’s an ice cream cake,” Mom explains, smiling at my amazed expression. “Dad and I thought you could use a sweet treat after the hard month you had.”
My parents are literally the best. I give her and Dad a big hug before we dig in.
Afterward, still buzzing and in high spirits from the sugar, we open presents by the Christmas tree and cuddle up on the sofa watching holiday movies, just like we used to do back in the States.
Our apartment doesn’t have a fireplace, so Dad sets up his tablet on our coffee table.
A continuous loop of a burning fireplace plays on the screen, and with my parents laughing and chatting beside me, I still feel cozy even without the heat of a real fire.
Since Mom and Dad are usually busy with work, I’m soaking up every single minute I can spend with them.
Late afternoon, I get two texts. One from Bryan and another from Minjee.
Merry Christmas! reads Bryan’s. Short and sweet. I write back with pretty much the same words.
Minjee’s message reads, Hey, wanna go look at the Christmas display at the festival along Cheonggyecheon? No worries if you’re busy with family, though.
Cheonggyecheon is a long stream that runs across central Seoul.
Every year, there’s some sort of Christmas-themed festival there, where the path is decorated with countless LED lights and other decorations until New Year’s.
My parents and I went there the first winter we spent in Korea, but we haven’t been able to go since then because they’re usually too tired from work to deal with the massive crowds.
I bite my lip, trying to decide what to do. I really want to see the lights this year, and I want to hang out with Minjee. She’s probably dying to escape her house right now. But I also want to spend as much time as I can with my parents.
Mom, being Mom, notices the tension on my face right away.
“What’s wrong, Hana?” she asks, sounding concerned.
“Park Minjee texted me. She asked if I wanted to go look at the lights at Cheonggyechon with her.”
“Oh, Minjee! She’s your friend from school, right? The one who used to come over all the time.”
“Yup, that’s her.”
When we first became friends in middle school, I was pretty self-conscious about inviting Minjee to our apartment since I knew how much richer her family was than mine, but after enough sleepovers, I stopped caring.
Minjee never said anything that made me feel “lesser” than her, and our K-drama binge-watching marathons kept me going when I felt so out of place in my new school.
“Do you want to hang out with her?” Mom asks.
“I do,” I finally say. “But I also want to stay here with you and Dad. So I’m torn.”
“You should go hang out with your friend!” Dad says, surprising both Mom and me. “You almost never hang out with people your age anymore. Your umma and I are always worried. We spent enough time together today. Go out and have fun. I could use some alone time with your umma anyway.”
Mom blushes and elbows Dad, making me laugh. I rarely see them being this silly.
“Well, they do say that Christmas is more of a holiday for couples in Korea,” I joke, raising my eyebrows.
“Hana, just go,” Mom says, her face still red. “Don’t stay out too late.”
She shoos me away. Dad chuckles.
I grab my coat, gloves, and scarf from my room before heading out the door.
“Have fun!” I exclaim before I leave.
Both Mom and Dad laugh this time, and I still have a smile on my face when I get in the elevator.
Minjee and I agree to meet by the twinkly Christmas tree that’s set up in Cheonggye Plaza.
Several groups of people stand around the gigantic tree, taking selfies with friends and family.
Street food vendors dressed in Santa uniforms hand out hot steamed buns and sweet pancakes.
A few people here and there recognize me and point, and I do my best to give everyone I make eye contact with a friendly bow and wave.
Since there are so many people, it takes me a while to find Minjee, but when I do, I smile at what she’s wearing. Everyone’s dressed in coats of more neutral colors, like brown, black, or white. But Minjee is wearing a bright blue coat and a red Santa hat, an outfit that’s impossible to miss.
I wave at her. Her entire face lights up as she walks over to me.
“Hey!” Minjee says. “Glad you could make it out. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, too! Wanna take a selfie together with the tree?”
“Yeah! It’s so pretty this year!”
She takes out a selfie stick, and we take several photos, alternating between various poses that range from goofy to glamorous. It feels like we’re back to being just two relatively anonymous high school students instead of costars in one of the most-watched Korean dramas of the year.
“These are so cute!” Minjee exclaims, looking over the pictures on her phone. “Wouldn’t it be so funny if we both posted these on Instagram tonight, mere days before it’s revealed that we’re rivals who hate each other on the show?”
“Oh my gosh, let’s do it.” I smile at the suggestion. “I’ll do it if you do.”
“Okay, it’s happening. I’ll send you the photos. Let’s do it later, though, when we’re back at home. We don’t want everyone on the internet to know we’re here right now.”
“Good call.”
We make our way down the stairs to the path along the stream.
Compared to the overwhelmingly bright lights of the Christmas tree in the plaza, the ornament- and tree-shaped lights of the path are dimmer but not any less beautiful.
Shimmering bridges and Christmas light–covered arches illuminate the path, and tons of gift- and gingerbread house–shaped photo ops line the stream.
Most people are too busy taking pictures of their loved ones to notice Minjee and me, so we’re able to walk in peace and snap more of our own photos along the way without anyone stopping us to ask for autographs.
Guitarists busk at the edges of the path, and with the holiday music, giddy laughter, and excited chatter of children and couples alike, it really feels like we’re walking through a winter wonderland.
The silence between Minjee and me feels comfortable, and I’m more at peace than I’ve felt in a long time.
We spend most of the time looking at the various decorations along the stream, but occasionally our eyes meet.
When Minjee grins at me, I feel so happy in a way I can’t even begin to understand.
“Hey,” Minjee says when we reach the subway station. “Thanks for coming out on a holiday. I know how important family time is to you.”
“No problem,” I reply. “How have things been for you back at home?”
She shrugs and looks away, staring at a little kid walking by holding both his parents’ hands.
“The usual. My parents act like we’re all as close as their on-screen families when we’re out in public, but when we’re at home, we’re all in our own rooms and hardly talk to each other.
We don’t even acknowledge each other during mealtimes. We’re all just staring at our phones.”
I reach out and squeeze Minjee’s shoulder. My parents and I don’t get to spend much time together nowadays, either, but when we do, we treat every minute like precious gold. I can’t even imagine how things must be like for her.
“Well, if you ever want to come over after the shooting day, let me know. My parents aren’t always home, but I’m sure they’d love to have you over again whenever they are.”
Minjee puts her hand over mine and gives me a surprised but grateful smile.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’d really like that.”
I’m walking home from the subway station when I get a call from Sophia.
“Hope you had a good Christmas,” she says as soon as I pick up.
“Sorry for barging in on you on a holiday like this, but I’ve been talking with Bryan’s team throughout the week, and we agreed that you and he should go on another date again this coming Saturday, on New Year’s Eve.
I know it hasn’t quite been a whole month since your first date with Bryan, but last week’s ratings were pretty disappointing.
And we thought it’d be good for you two to go on another date and announce that you are officially an item since the first episode with Minjee comes out on Saturday as well.
It’ll hopefully generate more drama and interest to help the ratings. ”
I don’t know what question to ask first. I finally decide on “You talked with Bryan’s team throughout the week?”
“Yup, I exchanged numbers with Bryan’s manager. We’ve been texting.”
“Oh, okay. And Bryan knows about all of this?”
I wonder if that’s why Bryan sent me that random Christmas text earlier today.
“I’m assuming so,” Sophia says. “Ms. Ahn is a bit catty and a bit too old-school in her business methods for my tastes, but I don’t think she’s the type of manager that goes behind her clients’ backs.”
I think about how much of a confusing whirlwind things have been between Bryan and me for the past couple of weeks. Sure, he seemed friendly the last time we were on set, but that was while we were working. I have no idea where things stand between us beyond that.
If Bryan and I were friends, I’d text him right now and ask how he felt about the whole situation. But I don’t feel comfortable messaging him anymore, especially not after what happened after our first “date.”
I’ll ask him in person when we meet up on Saturday , I decide.
“Mr. Kim also agreed that you and Bryan should go on another date this weekend,” Sophia adds.
“What is up with him, anyway?” I ask. “Apparently he hired Minjee the same week that Bryan and I went on our first ‘date’!”
Sophia lets out a quick breath. “He’s definitely a wild card. The way he does things isn’t orthodox, but I think he just wanted to have multiple things going on in case one of them didn’t pan out. Which makes sense from a business perspective.”
“All right,” I finally say. “When and where should I meet Bryan?”
“I’ll touch base with his team and text you the information. Just warning you, it’ll probably be somewhere very public again. More so than last time. They’re trying to get as much press and attention as possible.”
“Can we make sure that Bryan and I will be safe this time?” I ask. “Not that I felt threatened or anything at Lotte World, but Bryan’s one security guard seemed to be really struggling. Plus, we had to spend a lot of time running away from fans.”
“Yup. That’s definitely something Bryan’s team and I have been talking about as well. We’ll assign more security personnel. The last thing I want is for you to feel unsafe.”
“Okay, thanks, Sophia.”
“No problem,” she says. “Get some rest, kiddo.”
Later that night, I’ve just posted the cute Christmas pictures of Minjee and me on Instagram when Sophia messages me.
The text reads Namsan Tower, 1 PM. Saturday, 12/31.
I groan into a pillow. Namsan Tower is one of the most heavily frequented tourist attractions in Seoul, a spot that’s so famous that it’s on almost every “Travel to Korea” brochure because of how often it appears in romantic Korean dramas.
Couples from all over the world go up to the tower to put a lock on the surrounding fence in hope that securing a lock there will make a relationship last forever.
And then there’s Bryan and me. Since it’s the tradition, we’ll probably be expected to do the lock thing, too. But unlike the other couples, our lock will be nothing but a big fat lie, a memento of a fake relationship that we’re putting on just for the press.
I always wondered what the couples who put up the locks do when they break up.
Do they come back up to cut them off the fence?
Or do they not bother? How many of the locks on the fence are actually painful or forgotten reminders of broken relationships?
Just thinking about all the locks on the fence depresses me, so I reopen Instagram.
The first post I see is Minjee’s, which has the same photos I just posted myself. I like her post and then flip through the pictures again.
We both look so happy. It feels like they were taken weeks before and not just a few hours ago.
If only I could go up to the tower with Minjee , I find myself thinking. Then I’d actually have fun instead of feeling like I’m trapped.
The worst part of all this is that Namsan Tower is on top of a mountain. A quick escape would be impossible, and Bryan and I won’t be able to run away. Even if security guards manage to keep the fans and paparazzi at bay, we’ll still be stuck up there with all those locks.
Trying not to think any more about the upcoming date with Bryan, I comment on Minjee’s post with the eyes emoji, a fire emoji, and a kissy face emoji.
Minjee has over a million followers, and it doesn’t take long for several people to like and reply to my comment. Most of them just say something about how we’re both really cute, but a few that have also seen my post somehow manage to correctly guess that Minjee’s going to come on the show.
I don’t confirm their speculations, of course. But I smile.
If they only knew what we have in store for them.