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28 Years Ago

Biting her non-existent fingernails, So Ri scanned the club for any sign of the one love of her life. The past two days since he'd broken up with her she hadn't eaten or slept, stress stretching her body out like a taut bow string on a worn instrument. Old ulcers in her stomach from when she'd been bullied in school aggravated her. Songs on loudspeakers and scarves in her closet and silhouettes of strangers—the stars and the sun and the rain and the trees and the still, cold, tangible air—they all reminded her of him. A stupid conversation they'd had. Their mutual likes and dislikes. Their disagreements.

That indifferent stare that always made him seem cool and mysterious now only made him seem careless.

Selfish.

But when he'd smiled knowingly at her across a room or laughed at her childish antics, the warmth in it had shot straight to every nerve in her body until she was buoyant and above every care in the world.

Her hands still tingled where he'd traced lines on her palms.

'Let's move to Florence and stay there forever,' he'd whispered while drunk, and she, also drunk but not from liquor, had believed him.

She'd bought every lie he'd sold her with willing lips and eyes and hands, and when she finally spotted him through the thick throng of party goers, a tear slipped from her burning eyes.

Had he ever cared?

How could he throw everything away, just like that?

How could he tell her the past three years meant nothing to him after a mere 'chat' with his father about his familial duties?

What was it his father had called her?

A common clay vessel, useful for holding water or cooking, but not for display.

Plain.

Cheap.

Replaceable.

So Ri pulled her heavy gray coat tighter against her though the air in the club stifled her. She knew he'd be here. Even when they were together, he frequented this club with friends on the Fridays she couldn't join him.

Tonight, he sat alone in one of the booths, nursing a drink, and when she approached him, his gaze flickered from surprise to the same hardness he'd shown her when he'd told her he wanted to break up.

If he thought he would get rid of her that easily, he was mistaken. He hadn't meant it. She knew he hadn't. Fear made him callous, but she could get through to him. She'd always been able to before.

Besides, she had more than herself to worry about now.

Pushing through the crowd, she stopped directly in front of him, her knees hitting the edge of the table. The disheveled state of his clothes and the glassiness in his eyes indicated he'd already had a few.

"Can we talk?" she shouted, her voice straining over the excited shouts of the table doing shots next to them.

Saying nothing, he turned his head to stare at a group of dancing girls to her right.

"Hyun Sub, I really need to talk to you! Can't we go somewhere, just for a minute?!"

Hyun Sub picked up his drink and sipped from it, draping his arm over the top of the black leather booth.

His fingers twitched as he set the glass down, a nervous tick she'd picked up on early in their dating life.

"I have something important to tell you!" she tried again, moving over so that she blocked his view of the girl group. "Can't you even talk to me anymore?!"

"Didn't I make myself clear enough?" he answered, still not looking at her. "We're over. Don't bother coming around me anymore."

"You can't just decide that by yourself without even telling me why. You at least owe me an explanation. You at least owe me that much!"

"You know why. You didn't honestly think this was going somewhere, did you? Even you can't be so blind. This arrangement was made years ago."

"So you're going to accept it, just like that? What was I, your test run? The lucky slut you decided to spend your last few years of foolishness with? You're pathetic."

"Are you done?"

"No. You're a spineless bastard, and I wish I'd never laid eyes on you. But you're going to listen to me now because I'm not going through this shit alone when it's your damn fault too."

Her tears had no effect on him. How was it possible?

He'd once punched a guy's lights out for making her cry.

He'd even talked back to their professor.

Now, he merely smirked.

"You think I'm going to break down if you make a fool of yourself? Leave. Before I ask security to escort you out."

"What happened to you? Have you gone mad?"

"No. But you have, my dear. See that girl over there in the red dress?" Hyun Sub gestured to one of the girls in the group he'd been watching. She had her back turned to them.

"What about her? Your escort for the evening?" So Ri spat.

Hyun Sub met her gaze coolly.

"My future wife."

"Bullshit."

"Take another look."

So Ri did, despite herself, and sure enough she saw Park Chung Ae, the socialite he had recently become engaged to at the bidding of both their parents.

"What's the matter? Don't think she'll do the job credibly?" Hyun Sub scoffed and took another sip of his drink. "You're not that special."

"Bullshit," she repeated, only quieter.

"Look at you. You even curse like a commoner. You're not meant to be here. It's a wonder they let you into the same classes as me."

"If you're trying to insult me, then try harder. Don't you remember? I had my uniform ripped from my body by girls much scarier than you. They had to answer to my fists."

Snatching the glass out of his hand as he set it down on the table, she slid it across the table, its contents sloshing over the sides, until it nearly went over the edge.

"It's a wonder you can create anything, much less run your father's precious museum, knowing how truly tasteless you are."

Before he had kept his face neutral, but abruptly his mood shifted as he met her gaze once more.

"It's a wonder they let you in here looking like a knocked-up civil service worker."

"It's a wonder if you don't die before you're 40 with how much you're drinking right now. I wonder if your lovely future wife knows what a rotten deal she signed on. It's not like anyone thinks you're prince charming to begin with, and now you're just cruel."

"Oh? You think I've been cruel? You think I've been cruel? I wonder if anyone will marry you now that you're damaged goods. It's not like your family's name means anything. It's not like you have any real talent. It's not like you've been anything but a burden to your father since the day you were born. It's not like your life is of any real significance. Why don't you go stand out on the sidewalk by the door and see if there are any takers?"

"Hyun Sub—"

"You think you're a pretty face? Look around you. You think you're different? You think you stand out in a crowd? You think anyone is looking at you? Look around you! Look!"

"You looked at me."

"Because you're the most gullible girl I've ever met." He sneered. "And the most stupid."

The lights flickering between them gave away nothing of the Hyun Sub she had known.

Thankfully, he couldn't see her trembling underneath her coat, but if she kept standing there, she knew she'd have no dignity left. Already, the bile had risen in her throat. She wanted to break every bottle on every table in the room. She wanted to beat him up like the stupid, mad girl he took her for.

Instead she said, "Well, then...I guess I'll be leaving first. So Hyun Sub. I hope your bride-to-be makes you even more utterly miserable than you already are. I hope you never see me again, and I hope you drown yourself in regret until your dying day." She picked up his glass and slammed it back down in front of him. "Or cheap, horrible liquor."

Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned and headed for the exit, pushing past a few curious onlookers who had seen their heated exchange. At the entrance, she couldn't help herself, though. She looked back, curious and perhaps too hopeful to see remorse on his face.

Whether he saw her or not, she couldn't tell, but his fianceé had sat down next to him, and the next thing she knew his mouth was all over her.

And the next thing she knew she was throwing up in the alley outside the club.

And the next thing she knew a man was helping her into a cab.

Yi something something.

Present

Brushing a few pieces of lint from her cream blouse, So Ri stared down So Yeong-cheol's secretary with what she hoped was an indifferent yet intimidating air. The polished bookkeeper merely lifted her brows at So Ri's insistence that she see the old man on urgent business.

Didn't the lady know who she was? Was she still someone so easily swept under the rug?

She liked to think not, and her patience wore thin as the lady dismissed request after request.

"I'm sorry," the secretary repeated robotically. "He is not accepting visitors today, not even by appointment. If you would like to request—"

"Then tell him it concerns his grandson. His first one. His very first one."