Loveboat in 서울

𝟚𝟜

I know what my punishment is even before the Dragon shuts the door of her office, a chaotic workspace for four long tables and a steel desk flooded with papers. The air is sharp with Korean ointment. Photo collages of students from prior Yonsei years over the walls, none of whom, I'm sure, have ever been escorted here for the reason I have.

"Anjda," she commands.

Tight with dread, I sink into a chair before her desk. She dials my parents. I picture them on the other end, bolting upright in their floral-sheeted bed, Eomma on her bedside phone, Appa on the wireless, as the Dragon speaks rapid-fire Hangul.

Then she hands me the phone.

My hand shakes as I raise it to my ear. "Hello?"

"How could you do something so foolish?" Appa cries.

"We raised you better than this!" Eomma cries. "Now you've shamed us!"

"You know what those boys think of you now?" Appa demands, words that puncture a veil between us—he's yet to acknowledge my first bra, let alone that boys might think anything of me. The shame of that little girl who spread her legs too far crashes down all over again.

"What if University of Phoenix finds out?" Eomma's voice rises a decibel and I have to hold the phone from my ear; the Dragon can hear every word. "They'll kick you out. You may have ruined your life!"

Fresh panic erupts like lava in my chest. I clutch the phone. Sohee wouldn't send my photos to them, would she?

"They can't!" I cry.

"We trusted you enough to send you by yourself!" Appa shouts.

"This isn't why I sold my black pearl necklace!" Eomma cries.

Black pearl necklace again?

"I didn't ask you to sell it" I roar. "I didn't want to come here! All I wanted to this summer was dance and you stole that from me!"

Great gulping sobs tear from my throat. The Dragon hands me a tissue, but even with her in on our dirty laundry, it feels so good to hurl that truth into the open.

"How can you be so ungrateful?" Eomma cries. "We've done everything for you. Lord, why did you curse me with such a daughter?"

"How can you call me ungrateful? I gave up dancing! I'm going to medical school! You never ask me what I want!"

And there's no answer. Just the murmur of my parents conversing, then Eomma again.

"We will find you a ticker to come home."

I grip the phone. "No!"

"Go pack your bags. Be ready to leave in the morning."

"You can't make me come home now! I'm not ready!" I'm shouting, making no sense to anyone. I've forgotten how swiftly my parents can cut me off from privileges, even from six thousand miles away.

In a last attempt, I appeal to the cardinal Bae-family sin. "You flew me here already—why send me home now? It's wasting money!"

"You made this stupid decision!" Eomma snaps. "So you suffer the consequences!"

The line goes dead.

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

I barely remember stumbling from the Dragon's office. My chest burns as if my parents have filled it live coals then kicked it in. I had begun to understand where they were coming from. Even felt sympathetic for what they'd given up by emigrating—home, acceptance—and appreciated that they've never pushed me to find a husband or call me a disgrace to nine generations.