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첫사랑
YURI GLANCED AT herself in the mirror as she made her way down her long hallway to the entrance of her penthouse. She had been emailed by an up-and-coming hot restaurant to critique their Italian cuisine, to which she responded very late after trying to get her broken mouse to work. She'd always admired Italian food.
It was Jisung's favorite.
A sigh fell out of Yuri's lips as his name entered her mind once again. She turned her head toward the small picture frame on the wall, holding an old, barely intact picture of her and Jisung. Her first love.
1924
"If I could have another, please," Yuri mumbled to the bartender, who simply nodded at her request as he began pouring her another shot of whiskey.
She closed her eyes as she downed the shot, ignoring the sting in her throat as she listened to the pair of men talking about the first ever Winter Olympics that were being held in France that year. The soft sound of jazz filled the bar she was in as young couples danced around the room.
Yuri was sitting alone, wallowing in her own self pity as she felt another year go by in her 25 year old body. She was supposed to turn 28 years old that day, but the universe had another path for her. One of loneliness, one that she'd already accepted.
That was until he walked in and saw her, sitting alone at the bar. He had been interested in her since the moment he laid eyes on her, and he'd never felt so certain about a gut feeling ever in his life.
"Do you fancy someone to share a drink with?" he said, casually taking the seat beside her. "Or would you prefer a nice, warm meal at the restaurant next door? It's quite a chilly night."
Yuri turned her head toward the voice, seeing a man, wearing a fashionable suit with his hair done neatly. He seemed to be from uptown, where the rich folks lived in that small town on the outskirts of Seoul.
"What is a man such as yourself doing in a bar like this?" she tilted her head at him.
"For the same reason you most likely are," he sent her a warm smile, leaning his arm onto the bar counter as he faced his body toward her. "Spending the little amount of money I own on some alcohol after a stressful day."
"Little?" she cocked her eyebrow at him. Even though it was true for her, she did not expect that he would have little money.
"It may not seem so," he chuckled shyly, his head timidly bowing to his hands, fumbling with the rings on his fingers. "Alas, looks are not all that informative. For instance, you may look like a model; however, I am not aware if you are one."
This sent a flow of blood to Yuri's cheeks as she looked away shyly, flustered at his compliment. "You must be mistaken. I own a seamstress shop down this road. I live there as well," she explained to him, a light smile on her lips. She'd never felt that emotion, joy, for a long time.
"Fascinating," he stared at her. "Perhaps I know the place. Fancy taking me over there? For... research purposes?"
Yuri watched as his tongue slid over his bottom lip, sending a feeling straight through her body as her heart raced. She didn't even know him, she didn't even know his name, but she would do anything for him at that moment.
She took him home, where she learned much more about him than his name, Min Jisung, as they explored each other through deft kisses and gentle touches as their relationship began to bloom.
They fell in love quickly after that. Yuri was sure she had finally found her soulmate after 3 years of roaming. Jisung had to be; everything with him felt right, and comfortable, always. They had moved to Daegu after 4 years of being together, where Yuri worked at a clothing store, and Jisung worked at an office firm.
Their life was perfect, their relationship was beautiful, but as time went by, something began to feel wrong to Yuri.
She wasn't aging. There were no smile lines, no wrinkles that are supposed to develop with age. She looked identical since the day the two first met, as did Jisung.
In the midst of this period of stress, it became worse when Jisung informed her of a year-long business trip he had to take to the West. She waited patiently for him to come home, but when he did, something was off.
He looked mature. His body was bigger, his smile lines had appeared, and his tattoos were fading. And tattoos fade with age.
He looked older than 25, older than her, and when Jisung told her he had met his soulmate on the trip, her heart broke. He cried in her arms that night. He promised that he would stay with her, always, that night.
And he did. He grew older through their relationship, while she stayed the same age. When people started to become suspicious of the two, they moved to Busan in 1941, where Yuri got a job as a waitress. Everyone suspected Jisung to be her father, pushing their relationship only behind closed doors.
He had fallen ill in 1953, spending his last year with Yuri until he passed away in 1954.
It broke her. The only man she had ever loved, the only man she ever had hope to grow up with was gone, taken away from her, and she was back to square one. Living in a 25 year old body with a mind that had gone through too much.
Without Jisung, what would she do?
What was her purpose in life?
That was the question she would be asking herself for decades to come.
