My Summer in Seoul

I was gone maybe three minutes.

She was nowhere to be found.

I looked left, right, center.

I started shaking.

And then I saw her appear from behind a column on her cell phone, her hand waving in the air like she was irritated.

And then she locked eyes with me again. How could someone be so pretty up close? It didn’t even look like she was wearing makeup!

Her black leather dress was super chic; her red knee-high boots looked like she’d plucked them right off a magazine cover.

She shoved her phone back in her light blue purse. I frowned at the design; a Barbie-typeface was pressed on the front. It looked more expensive than everything in the banged-up black suitcase I was currently rolling in her direction.

To what appeared like her absolute horror.

Great first impression, Grace!

“Is my Uncle Siu coming?” I tilted my head, waiting for her answer.

She bit down on her glossy lower lip. “No.”

Don’t panic, obviously she worked for him or with him. “Are you taking me to see him?”

She said something in Korean, followed by “fired” in English. She pressed her perfectly manicured fingertips to her forehead and whimpered.

“Are you okay?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” She nodded her head in finality and turned on her heel like she was mentally making decisions for both of us. “This way.”

She was a fast walker.

I struggled to keep up with her as I balanced my luggage in an effort to exit the airport without falling off the curb and into oncoming traffic.

A black Honda Sedan had its trunk already open. The driver didn’t ask for my luggage. He just approached and took it from me.

The door was already open in the back, so I got in while my new bestie got in the front seat and started texting like the world would end if she didn’t go fast enough.

I buckled up and leaned forward. “Hey, what’s your name?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and then stared straight ahead; either she couldn’t remember what it was, or she didn’t want to tell me.

I was betting on the latter.

“Solia.” She stiffened in her seat as the driver took off at an alarming speed amidst honking from other cars.

I gripped the door handle. “That’s pretty.”

“Thank you.”

More silence.

“Is there a problem?”

She shifted in her seat; her posture was perfect. Was I hunching? I moved against the leather seat and tried to sit up further as we passed more cars and accelerated forward.

“I was told you were perfect for the internship—I assumed you were fluent in the language. The position you’ll be working in is…” She sighed. “Tedious.”

“Tedious how?”

“Do you have any nicer clothes in your bag?” She asked it so courteously that I wasn’t even insulted that she’d changed the subject.

This was not going to go over well. “I like to be comfortable. I brought one dress and—”

She started choking and then started fanning herself like she was going to pass out. “I’ll make notes.”

“Notes?”

“Of what we’ll need.”

“Need?”

“Do you often repeat everything you hear? Is this why he sent me? Is this some sort of test for my promotion?”

“Oh, you’re getting promoted?” I smiled wide. “Good for you!”

She turned in her seat and leveled me with a curious stare. “I guess that depends on how easily you can manage.”

“Manage what?”

“Them,” was all she said.

I’d never been so terrified of a word in my entire life.

It wasn’t just the way she said it.

It was the look she gave me.

Completely hopeless and empty.

I gulped and looked out the window, surprised that it didn’t feel as foreign as I thought it would. It reminded me of LA, only a lot cleaner. We still weren’t into the main part of the city, but the closer we got, the worse traffic became. Add that in with all of the skyscrapers I could see up ahead and flashing signs, and I was in heaven.

It was loud and exciting, so bright and different from Seattle that I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face.

The signs were in English and Korean, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t going to walk into a coffee shop only to realize it was for ramen.

See? I was going to be fine.

And despite the fact that I was causing the girl in the front seat to have a nervous breakdown, it was great. It would totally work out. She was probably just high-strung. In the research I had conducted, I’d discovered that Koreans were expected to include a freaking headshot with their resumes, often worked sixteen-hour days, and sacrificed everything to move up in their jobs. I imagined she wasn’t just exhausted but extremely stressed out. I only hoped that I could help her in some way during my internship. God knew the woman could use a coffee and a sedative.

I was still admittedly nervous about seeing Uncle Siu again, but my dad was an incredible judge of character, and since they were close, I knew I probably didn’t have anything to be worried about. Besides, he’d called us, right? That had to count for something, plus duh, he was family.