by R. P. Rioux
Mr. Lee failed to fully disguise his anger. It took him a moment to recover. "Fine," he said with gritted teeth. He summoned his staff to serve the best champagne. "You are indeed a formidable challenge, Ms. Moon, as I had been warned. Let's recognize we see things differently and allow no hard feelings to linger on this exchange."
She was pleasantly surprised by his reaction. The fluted glasses came, and they toasted to bright futures.
Gulping down that delicious beverage was the last memory Heather had of the evening.
5
Sun-hee
Two seasons removed and an ocean away from training at Giga Music, Ahn-Sun-hee looked forward to her new adventure. The experience convinced her to make music a central part of her life moving forward. Towards that end, she had applied to UCLA's School of Music, and was accepted.
Her first day of college was a heady mix of excitement and terror. That Sun-hee had chosen to study abroad only intensified her feelings. She was alone. Because of their financial constraints, her parents were discouraged from tagging along. The cost of two additional roundtrip flights across the Pacific was excessive. Besides, she'd have to face the reality of her independence eventually. Why prolong it? That logic seemed foolhardy now. She could have used their support.
Despite having wheels, her suitcase was unmanageable. The mistake of packing many heavy items in one enormous suitcase had become apparent. Logic said the most durable bag was best equipped to handle the load. The thought that she'd eventually have to lift it independently never crossed her mind. Appa dealt with the luggage at Incheon, and the LAX shuttle driver packed it into the van. Now that she was on her own, the grossly overweight bag was beyond her capacity to push up the steep ADA access ramp of her dorm.
She abandoned the idea of pulling it by the handle. Pushing it required bending over, which made her feel self-conscious. Her suggestive pose drew the unwanted attention of two male students who sat nearby. By using maximum effort, she got the bag to budge. Unfortunately, in doing so, one of the wheel's became stuck in a pavement crack. She repeatedly pushed to dislodge it, but quit in exhaustion and fell to her knees. The brown-haired male seized the opportunity to highlight Sun-hee's predicament to his blonde-haired friend. "Ha, that's how I like my women, on their knees." They both laughed.
While annoyed, Sun-hee wasn't about to let them have the upper hand. "A gentleman would offer his help," she responded. The tone of her voice lacked any resentment.
"Well, I ain't your servant," the boy said.
"Oh, certainly. I understand."
Her agreeable reaction disarmed him. He apparently expected more of a fight. "Good. Glad we got that straight."
"Please explain, though, what you mean by liking women on their knees."
The two friends laughed again until it became clear Sun-hee was seriously expecting an answer. The brown-haired boy was at a loss for words. His smile was gone. "Oh, you know."
"No, I don't. Can you explain your joke to me? I'm sure it was funny." Sun-hee mustered as much exaggerated innocence as she could.
"It's, like," he stammered. "You know, like, women being on their knees to, you know —"
"You mean push my luggage?"
"No!" The boy was squirming now. "Like when women, are going —"
The blonde friend grew uncomfortable at the awkward turn of the conversation. "Dude, I gotta run. See you in class tomorrow." With that, the mouthy boy was left to deal with his own mess.
"I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"Well, you know —" the boy's face turned red. "Oh, forget it. It wasn't that funny anyhow."
"I see," she responded, feigning disappointment. "Well, I better be going then."
"Yeah, okay."
"Since you're here, though, do you think you could help me with this?"
His eyes widened. "Oh yeah, sure. No problem."
* * *
It took approximately four weeks for the exhilaration that came with attending university in a foreign country to wear off. Sun-hee met plenty of fascinating people at orientation and spent many happy hours exploring the campus and its surrounding neighborhoods with them. Making friends was ridiculously easy at first since everybody was new, but these engagements soon turned superficial. She sensed her new companions were unlikely to stick around for long once they met more appealing colleagues. Sure enough, three weeks in, and her friends found more excuses to bail on planned activities. As she settled into a routine, she began to miss Korea.
"Umma, I want to go back." Sun-hee had purchased a calling card to phone home without it costing a fortune. Her mother avoided going online. Video chat wasn't an option.
Chan-sook responded with a sigh. "Sun-hee'ya, you just arrived."
"I know, but it's harder than I thought."
"Of course. It's a good school. Did you think it would be easy?"
"Not school. That's fine. It's—everything else."
"Like what? Is someone giving you problems?"
"No. People have been welcoming, but I get nervous around strangers."
"Give it more time. You'll make friends. What about your roommate? You said she was nice."
"She is," Sun-hee said, taking an extra breath, "but she has her own friends, and they're into different things. Besides, I doubt their idea of a pleasant time is babysitting a shy foreigner."
"Well, you need to work on that."
Sun-hee opened her dorm room window to get some air and enjoy the magnificent view of the stately campus. A co-ed soccer game was in progress on the nearby athletic field, while runners tested each other on the track. A flag squad rehearsed a half-time routine in a far corner. "I miss Korean food, especially yours, Umma."
"They have Korean restaurants there."
"But I can barely afford a bowl of noodles."
"We can't send any more money right now, and besides we paid for a meal plan. Aren't you using it?"
"I am, but Korean options are limited."
"Well, you can't expect the comforts of home, especially since it was your idea to study abroad in the first place."
"Umma, I know. You've reminded me so many times."
"Part of maturing is learning how to adapt. It won't be easy, but you'll be better for it. Isn't there a group you can join?"
"I went to a few Korean club events."
"Did you meet anyone?"
"It was alright. None were the creative type, so we didn't have much in common. Sun-hee heard a tapping sound coming from her mother's end of the line. "What are you doing?"
"Your aunt Ri-na is having us over for dinner tomorrow, and I'm making a dish to bring. Soo-min and Myung miss you. Your sister especially admires you so much."
"I wish we weren't so far away."
"Did you respond to that girl who posted on your Facebook?"
"What girl?"
"The one you met in idol training."
"You mean Grace? Not yet."
"Well, that's your problem. You say you want more friends, but don't do anything to keep the ones you have."
"It's hard."
"It isn't. You're being difficult." A loud thunk followed by a rattle suggested whatever her mother was working on had fallen over. She made no mention of it. "There's always a pathway," her mother continued. "Sometimes it's hidden. Isn't she doing a music project? I thought you'd be interested in that."
"She goes to a different school. The bus ride takes an hour. I feel trapped sometimes."
"Can't you use the metro?"
"Ha! It's not like Seoul's, or even Busan's. I can walk to Westwood. After that, busses or nothing."
"Well, Sun-hee'ya, I can tell you, your father and I are in no position to be getting you a car. It's costing enough to send you to school as it is. Besides, you don't even know how to drive. Repay us by working hard and doing well in school."
"I'm trying, Umma."
"Okay, you're trying. So that means you're staying then?"
"Yes, Umma," she said meekly.
&n
bsp; "You can do it. You're stronger than you think."
"I don't feel very strong right now."
"I've seen it your whole life. You have your own way of showing it. Learn to trust that."
Sun-hee stared at the pile of music sheets on her desk. "I have to go, Umma. I have practice."
6
Grace
Bathed in sunlight, with expansive views of the neighboring metropolis, Grace found the St. Ignatius University campus to be the loveliest she had ever seen. Perched on a bluff overlooking Marina del Rey, the vista stretched from Topanga State Park and the Malibu shore, all the way through the Hollywood Hills to downtown Los Angeles. Its prime location allowed the school to embrace the city's restless energy while also serving as a peaceful haven from its more frequent and pervasive irritations.
Echoing its founding as a Jesuit institution of higher learning, the campus itself, richly adorned in tree-lined walkways and abundant green spaces, adopted the overall form of a cross. Centered on two broad pedestrian avenues intersecting at an expansive plaza near the campus' heart, stood the most essential administration buildings. Lining each mall were the primary colleges, Liberal Arts, Education, Performing and Fine Arts, Film and Television, Science and Engineering, and Grace's second home, the Business school.
The pièce de résistance was the Sacred Heart Chapel. Commanding a prominent spot overlooking the lush lawns of the Sunken Garden, the magnificent Spanish Gothic structure was situated at the tip of the cross. Being visible from both the campus entrance and the city below, the house of worship had become the university's iconic symbol in the public's eye.
Before heading home after class, Grace often visited the palm-adorned bluff side path surrounding the chapel. If she was lucky, an unoccupied bench would serve as a place to momentarily unwind. She favored moments when soft breezes wafted in from the ocean, carrying smells of penstemon and morning glory.
Her plans for visiting this spot were unexpectedly derailed one September afternoon. Matt, the TA from Economics, approached clutching a piece of paper. "Are you in contact with Heather Moon?" he asked impatiently.
"Is something wrong?"
"Professor Harding hasn't heard back. If she's dropping, she needs to sign this form and return it by Monday."
"She's dropping Economics?"
"What else can I assume? She's missed classes, skipped one test, and I'm still waiting on two assignments. You used to sit by her."
"I'll see what I can do. She hasn't been feeling well lately."
* * *
Though the Playa del Rey apartment was just ten minutes away, Grace had never visited. Heather had asked for space, and Grace respectfully provided it. Her request had been getting harder to comply with as their meetings and messages steadily decreased. The TA's report was the final straw. Grace located the apartment and knocked. A mussy-haired girl in square-rimmed glasses frowned when she saw who stood at the doorstep.
"Does Heather live here?" Grace asked politely, ignoring the icy reception.
"Living isn't the first word that comes to mind," the girl said. "If you're inquiring whether an entity by that name refers to this address as her domicile, then the answer is yes."
"Well then, might the Heather entity be present…uh, presently?" Grace winced at her lame attempt to impress through mimicry.
"She's sleeping," the girl continued, with a stone-faced demeanor. "I'd advise against a return visit, though. Nothing will change." She opened the door wide, returned to the couch, and unmuted the TV. Grace took the move as an invitation. Stepping inside, she saw an off-campus apartment fully furnished with mundane yet functional home products. Browns, yellows, and oranges dominated the aesthetic. The lack of shoes piled in the entryway betrayed the custom of the house.
Grace awaited further permission to proceed, but the girl was too engrossed in watching a daytime talk show to bother. A forceful throat-clearing regained her attention. "Oh, her room is located at the end of the hallway," the roommate explained. "If you're not out in a reasonable timeframe, I'll summon search and rescue."
Before Grace could reach the hallway entrance, the girl interjected another thought. "You know, I was thrilled when Housing told me my college roommate was going to be a K-Pop singer. I didn't expect such a train wreck." Grace nodded but inquired no further.
A knock on Heather's door yielded no response. Grace struck harder. Not a peep. She turned the handle. Unlocked. A peek inside revealed a dingy room wreaking of stale air and resembling a mausoleum more than a bedroom. It took considerable effort to push the door open as a heavy object had fallen at its base, impeding its path. A sliver of light slipped past the opaque curtains to penetrate the gloom. Grace could hear low breathing in the darkness. She felt around for a light switch but bumped a picture frame, nearly knocking it from its hook. Using the faint illumination as her guide, she braved the cheerless space. An encounter with a slippery substance made her grateful for shoes.
Grace managed to reach the window without breaking her neck. She ripped the curtains open. Instantly, the room was flooded with bright light. The scene that emerged was disheartening. She was tempted to shut them again. Every inch of floor space and furnishing, especially the bed and its environs, was covered by detritus. Countless plastic bags, food wrappers, dirty dishes, books, papers, and vast piles of clothing were strewn around the room as if hit by looters in the wake of a disaster. The closet contained a few hangars, all empty. The multitude of empty beer cans and soju bottles would have impressed a dedicated recycler.
Grace opened the windows as wide as they would go, allowing fresh air to enter the space for perhaps the first time in weeks. A pile of clothing and blankets stirred on the futon. One tug at it revealed Heather, her face almost unrecognizable, bloated with dark bags under her eyes. The sudden exposure to sunlight and circulated air caused her to shrink away like a vampire ejected from its crypt. Reaching for the first item she could grab, a red pullover sweater, she buried her head in it. "Turn off the light!"
Grace pulled the sweater away and tossed it into a far corner, out of reach. She pinned Heather's arms to the futon, forcing her to adapt to the new conditions. "Heather, this has gone on long enough."
"I'm tired. Can't I sleep?"
"You missed how many classes? You don't return messages. This is not normal. People are asking about you. And look at this pigsty. You used to be meticulous."
"I'm too busy to clean."
"Give me a break. When did you leave this room last?"
"I—" Heather turned her face away in shame.
Grace pulled her into an upright position and hugged her tightly. The compassion she displayed prompted her friend to sob openly. "Look, I know you're still hurting, but you can't throw your life away because of it."
Heather took comfort in the words of support. "I—you know—I'm—" She was too embarrassed to finish.
"Go ahead, you can tell me."
"I'm three weeks late."
Grace's eyes widened. She swept the hair from her friend's face. "Have you tested?"
"Not yet."
"Who's the guy?"
Heather appeared chagrined. She avoided eye contact.
Grace's belly knotted at the realization. "You have no idea."
"Are you slut-shaming me?"
"No. Listen. If I thought for a second you enjoyed this lifestyle, I'd be the first to cheer you on," Grace said calmly, grabbing both sides of Heather's head and forcing her to pay attention. "But I know you. You're better than this."
Heather slapped Grace's hands away and crashed to the bed. "I'm trash. It's time I finally admit it."
The limit of her patience had been reached. "You know what's trash?" She ripped the remaining bedding off Heather's body. "This attitude of yours." Grace proceeded to drag her friend off the futon by one arm.
"What are you doing?"
"You're getting cleaned up. God, you weigh a ton." Grace couldn't recall Heather's weight ever exceeding 45 kilograms during trai
ning. Those days seemed like a lifetime ago.
Despite the unexpected burden, she managed to pull her as far as the bathroom door. At that point, Heather stopped resisting and stood on her own two feet. Grace went to plug the bathtub drain, opened the faucet, and poured copious amounts of salts and soap into the water. "Take a good long soak. I'll make it nice and hot. You'll feel better. When I return from the store, you're taking a pregnancy test, then we'll detoxify this landfill together."