Chapter 21
I hope he’d be proud of me. At least I’m trying, right?
“Hey!” Minjee says as she reaches me. “Glad you could make it. I have a whole day planned for us. Are you okay with a bit of walking?”
Instead of her usual full face of dramatic makeup, Minjee has on her more natural look, which is how the hair and makeup ladies do her makeup when we’re on set. She’s gorgeous either way, but her more plain makeup confuses me since we’re not shooting any scenes today.
“Yeah, that’s fine! But where are you taking me?” I ask, equal parts amused and wary.
“You’ll see,” she just says with a wink.
We head up north toward the Gyeongbokgung Royal Palace gates, where majestic hanbok-clad palace guards stand at attention with their flags and spears. At first, I think we’re going into the palace grounds, but Minjee leads me around the gates to a street with lots of shops.
As we’re walking, we’re surrounded by people from all over the world, dressed in both modern and traditional Korean clothes alike, eating street food and speaking in different languages.
Wherever I look, I see groups taking selfies together in their rented-out hanbok, or just browsing the stalls and gift shops.
I’ve never been to this part of the city before—my parents and I just went directly to the palace or the museums around it—so I’m fascinated.
.. and I’m pretty sure I know what Minjee has in store for me.
“Are we here to rent hanbok?” I ask after we pass by a storefront window with a mannequin in a beautiful bright red hanbok.
Minjee grins. “That’s the first part, yeah.”
The last and one of the only times I wore a hanbok was for Fated Destiny , so I have no idea how today will go.
But I still let Minjee lead me into one of the cute hanbok shops.
The store is pretty crowded inside, filled with both Koreans and non-Koreans alike.
Racks of many different hanbok pieces from blouses to skirts to accessories like hats and fake flowers line the walls of the store, with busy employees bustling about to direct people to the changing stalls.
One of the employees, a lady who looks around my mom’s age, glances at us and does a double take.
“Jin Hana and Park Minjee?” she says with a gasp. “From Fated Destiny ?”
In that instant, dozens of people snap their attention to us, pulling out their phones or whispering excitedly among themselves.
I smile and give everyone mini bows while Minjee bows at the lady and replies, “Yes, that’s us.
We’d like to rent two hanbok, please. For us to try on for fun, not for the show. ”
The lady shakes our hands. When she pulls away, I see that she’s left her business card in mine. I have to smile at her business savvy.
“Of course, of course,” she says. “Welcome! I’m the manager of this store. Let me show you our most beautiful collection. And just so you know, whatever you rent today is totally on us. Please do put in a good word for us to the people at the studio, though.”
“Will do!” replies Minjee. “Thank you.”
The lady leads us past the crowded general room to a secluded room with a smaller but definitely more luxurious selection of hanbok.
These look so delicate with their fine golden embroidery and pastel colors.
With just one glance, I can tell they’re way more expensive than the ones in the main room. My jaw drops at how beautiful they are.
“We couldn’t possibly rent these for free,” I protest before the lady leaves. “Please, let us pay you!”
She shakes her head furiously like I’ve insulted her. “Nonsense! You will do no such thing. Please just walk around the city and take lots of photos. I can guarantee that alone will bring us a lot of profit.”
I still feel bad about the whole thing, but the lady looks so determined that I just bow at her again. “Okay, thank you.”
“Take as long as you’d like to choose!” she says before closing the door behind her.
“Hey, Hana!” Minjee exclaims. “Come here for a sec!”
I turn around to see Minjee holding out a gorgeous hanbok with a pearl-white blouse and a pink skirt with elegant flowers embroidered on it.
The skirt has a golden hem as a nice finishing touch and the blouse has a pink bow.
It’s gorgeous yet understated. Beautiful yet airy.
The more I look at it, the more I notice intricate details in the design.
“This hanbok was made for you,” she says. “You should try it on! I found a matching one for me, too.”
In her other hand, she holds up a hanbok that’s similar to mine but has a bright red skirt instead of a pastel pink one.
“I can’t wait to see how cute we’ll look in these.” Minjee gives me a wide, toothy grin, and I can’t help it. I smile back. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
We help each other into our hanbok, and when we’re done, our reflections in the mirror make me grin so wide that my face hurts.
The hanbok in Fated Destiny are gorgeous, but they’re super formal—to be as historically accurate as possible—and honestly sometimes even suffocating.
They make both Minjee and me look older than we really are.
Now, though, we look like two normal high school girls in pretty but elegant hanbok.
Minjee and I snap as many selfies together as possible. As we’re throwing up victory signs and making faces at the camera, I feel really giddy.
A sense of déjà vu washes over me, and I ask Minjee, “Do you remember that time we went to take pictures at the photo booth? Before we even read the scripts for Fated Destiny ?”
Minjee’s eyes light up in recognition. “Yeah, of course! I still have one of the photos saved as my KakaoTalk profile pic, I think.”
“Yeah, you do. To be honest, I looked at that photo a lot when I first started Fated Destiny . I think I was just really lonely since I wasn’t going to school and everything. But I was afraid to reach out to you because I felt bad about getting the lead part when you didn’t.”
Minjee frowns and places a hand on my shoulder. “Hana...”
I look into her warm brown eyes. I can’t even come close to expressing how much she means to me, how I’m so scared of telling her how I really feel because I don’t want to lose the friendship we have.
So I just say, “Thanks for reaching out when you did. It helped a lot.”
She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “No problem.”
We stand there for a moment, smiling at each other. There’s a palpable tension buzzing between us, like we’re about to kiss. But then Minjee looks away. It’s probably just my wishful thinking.
“Okay! Let’s get moving. This is only phase one. We have two more phases to go!”
I laugh. Her enthusiasm is so adorable. “Okay, where to next?”
We leave the hanbok store, but not before being greeted by a sea of fans that crowds the main room. I catch sight of the manager lady looking on with pride and approval as we take selfies with fans.
“We have the hanbok for four hours... which is more than enough time for what we’re going to do today,” Minjee says when we leave the store. “That is, provided that we don’t get stopped at every block. Hopefully we won’t.”
Luckily, once we’re out of the store, people pretty much leave us alone as we walk down the street.
And I don’t blame them. Minjee has a determined look on her face, like she’s on a mission and can’t be disturbed.
It probably looks intimidating to people who don’t know her that well, but to me she looks really cute.
We end up retracing our steps back to Gyeongbokgung again, walking around the white-brick palace walls and crossing the street to follow a twisting and turning narrow path past little shops and restaurants.
People smile at us as we walk by, surreptitiously and sometimes even overtly taking pictures of Minjee and me.
Minjee and I pick up rice cake waffles and black sesame lattes from a café so we can snack as we browse the shops we encounter along the way.
Most of the stores are clearly targeted for tourists and sell things like traditionally designed pencil cases and Korean flag fans.
But I enjoy browsing through everything all the same.
“Okay, almost there,” Minjee says about an hour later.
When we turn the corner, we’re suddenly surrounded by the traditional houses of Bukchon Hanok Village.
Snow covers the black giwa tiles of the roofs, which, along with the wooden doors and window frames of the houses, make it seem like we’ve been transported back in time to Korea in the long-distant past. The only things that break the illusion are the streetlights and tourists taking photos with their smartphones.
Some passersby are dressed in hanbok like we are, but others are in modern-day coats and jackets.
In retrospect, I should have guessed that this was where Minjee was taking me, but I gape in wonder all the same. I take a few quick pictures, marveling at the finely preserved antique quality of the houses.
Minjee leads me up the hilly street, all the while explaining to me that these houses still have people living in them.
“Even though it’s a popular tourist attraction, it’s a residential area, so we have to speak quietly so we don’t disturb anyone.”
I look around the houses, amazed at the idea that modern-day families actually live in these beautiful traditional homes. “Can you imagine just casually owning one of these houses? How cool would that be?”
“I know, right? Apparently, they’re pretty expensive, though. And cost a lot to maintain.”
Minjee and I continue walking up the hill, pausing here and there to take selfies with the pretty houses. When we reach the top of the hill, Minjee holds out her hand.
“Here,” she says. “Let me take pictures of you. Glam photo shoot time! Stand over there.”
She points at the middle of the street, where a lot of other people are pausing to take pictures, too.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize why—from where we’re standing on the hill, there’s a gorgeous view of the Seoul city skyline below.
I wait for a group to finish taking pictures before standing at the spot where Minjee pointed.
“Smile!” she says. “Say kimchi!”
At that, my lips spread into a genuine smile. Unlike in the US, where people say “cheese,” people in Korea say “kimchi”... which is probably the most Korean thing ever. It never fails to make me laugh whenever someone says it.
“Beautiful! Fabulous!” Minjee shouts. She crouches down—which looks really comical with her poufy hanbok skirt—and flips my phone at different angles, taking multiple shots like she’s some professional photographer. “Fantastic! Stunning!”
I end up bent over, giggling at how ridiculous she’s being.
“Okay,” Minjee says when she’s done. “Come look!”
To avoid walking into a passing group of people, I jog around as quickly as I can in the hanbok to where Minjee is. She hands me my phone, which has a picture of me pulled up on it.
“Swipe through these photos and tell me that this girl doesn’t belong in Korea,” Minjee says. “I dare you.”
I do what she says, and I’m shocked by how beautiful the pictures look.
The scenery is pretty enough in person, but the phone camera adds a focused quality that makes the contrast between the traditional houses and urban skyline look stunning.
And then there’s me, standing in the middle of all that.
Minjee snapped photos all the way up until she told me to come look, so I can see the progression from me smiling to me breaking into hysterical laughter.
I look so happy, and most importantly, Minjee is right.
I do look like I belong in this city, with its complex and eclectic mix of the old and the new.
I flip back to the pictures Minjee and I took together today around the city.
Before I know it, I’m sniffling. Tears are falling fast.
I feel a gentle grasp on my wrist and look up to see Minjee’s worried expression.
“Whoa there,” she says. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, pausing to wipe my tears away. “Sorry. Today has just been so good. I’m grateful to have you in my life.”
“Aw, Hana.” Minjee’s eyes get shiny, like she’s about to tear up, too, before she rapidly shakes her head. “But wait! We’re not done yet! There’s one last phase left.”
I burst into surprised laughter, definitely no longer crying. “Okay, let’s go!”
Minjee holds out her hand. It takes me a moment to remember that in Korea, it’s perfectly normal for girls to hold hands when walking around. I slowly put my hand in hers, and my heart pounds in my chest as we walk the rest of the way up the hill together.
We pass by the houses and reach a broader street. I’m about to ask where we’re headed when Minjee stops and says, “Look!”
I glance at where she’s pointing and am once again amazed by the sight in front of me.
While just moments before, we could see the city from where we were standing, we now have a picturesque view of Gyeongbokgung’s tallest buildings.
The Royal Palace looks stately from where we’re standing.
Complete with the surrounding mountains and the golden rays of the slowly setting sun in the horizon, it’s a sight fit for a Korean drama.
“Wow,” I say. “This is amazing. Minjee, I honestly don’t know how many times I can thank you. You’re such an incredible friend and I...”
I glance away from the view and trail off when I notice Minjee’s staring at me with a weird look in her eyes. Even though I’ve known her for years, I can’t place the expression on her face. Before I can figure out what it is, she drops her gaze to our joined hands and gives mine a slight squeeze.
“Glad you like it,” she says. Compared to how loud and enthusiastic she was being before, her sudden, quiet solemnness has me worried.
Did I do something wrong? I wonder. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t think of what might have upset her.
“Minjee?” I ask. “Is everything okay?”
She lets go of my hand and gets out her phone. “Of course! Now get up on that step by that fence. I want to take pictures of you with this view before the sun completely sets.”
I do as she says, and she snaps a few pictures.
Then, with a quick “Let’s go back before it gets dark,” she turns and walks away.