VMINKOOK / THE ART OF BEEKEEPING

59

— PART FIFTY-NINE.

Jeon Jaewon can't help but roll his eyes at his brother's measly attempt at pretending to care for the flower arrangements of the wedding. Hanbit is staring smugly at the array of comely flowers before him; synthetic daffodils and cellophane peonies, all of which seem to shrink beneath his expression. He casts a shadow over their sun-party, tearing their little eyes from helios, interrupting their chorus, squandering their glee.

Yee Juri doesn't touch him, nor does she touch the flowers. She sits beside Park Seona, drinking tea beneath a canopy of variegated leaves, that almost appears like a fluffy, green cloud from where Jimin and Jeongguk are sat.

Currently, the two families — sans the fathers — had come together to further arrangements for the wedding; they test cakes, wines, flowers, meats, cheeses, fruits, tablecloths, nibbles, edible arrangements, music players, colour schemes, plates, cutlery, shades of the sun, where shadows will be cast, where the light is likely to refract against their faces. They do so with a very stressed out wedding planner, with his little red face and balding head.

The kids are once again sat away from the adults, yet, it's harder to have their own conversation in such a small room — it's a cafe of sorts, with flowers and teacups and filled with a variety of objects that allow them to make many a decision about the big day.

Jangmi taps her foot across the floor, her mouth smiling, but her eyes glum, as she, like all the others at the table, keep a watchful eye on Juri. The woman looks bleak against all the pretty, succulent flowers, with their dripping amethysts and blurry tourmaline, not at all how a bride-to-be should look; not at all how any of them would've expected the woman to act when they'd first met her.

Gone was her air-headed arrogance and sexual narcissism, and in it's place, was a quivering mess of a woman, with beautiful hair and a sad face.

"You like them, 'Ri?" Hanbit asks her across the room, holding up a delicate set of petals in his rough hands, "they'll match the cloths." He says, but it's more to appeal to his mother than his bride, as it's clear he'd already become set on the decision of the orchids.

"They're so pretty." Juri agrees, and her tone is nothing short of dismal, like a fractal of who she once was, all shattered and delicate. It's airy, drifts across the air like a flute, all musical and empty.

"Oh, they're a beautiful colour." Jeon Miran, Jeongguk's mother, agrees, taking a sip of her drink; in truth, the Jeon family had no need to be here, and, realistically, it should be Juri's family instead, but, the Jeon's liked to be involved in the Park's business as much as the Park's liked to be involved in the Jeon's. "Tell Hiah to wear a colour like that." She says to her eldest son, referencing the boy's chosen date.

Both Jimin and Jeongguk's heart stutter a bit, already knowing what's coming. Jangmi watches her older brother with this gracious form of fascination, as he prepares himself.

"Have you got a date yet, Jeongguk?" It's Park Seona who asks, clearly intent on descrying whether it was only her son who didn't have a date.

They both look at one another, their gulps simultaneous. Their confidence mirrors one another as well, as they lock eyes and bounce off each other, using the other to reignite their usual splendour that had been somewhat dampened by the bursts of humanity Kim Taehyung had brought forth in them. They remember who they can be, who they have to be with their parents. Jeongguk nods, and he's says, so mechanically, so lucidly, "I'm going with Jimin."

It's Juri who chokes on her tea, the clutter of her teacup the only thing that tears through the space of stunned silence.

Jangmi's lips purse, and her cheeks bulge, nostrils flaring, trying to keep in her laugh; Jaewon's gaze is scrutinising, as he observes his brother, a sense of pride and worry amalgamating within him.