Lisa
I want to die.
This place smells like mothballs. It's a local place, Jack's Formalwear or John's Formalwear, something of the sort. Black tuxedos hang on spinning displays, dust specks and small particles embedded in the fabric. Bambam, his best friend Eunwoo, and other brother-in-law (whose name I've already forgotten) have spent the last couple of hours trying on funeral tuxedos.
I get cell phone reception in a corner by the window, and I answer emails in a shaft of light, trying not to be too bothered by the dust floating around me.
Bambam lets out a guffaw of a laugh, and my back molars clench. "Heck yeah! You know me too well, Jackson. Now we're talking."
I don't lift my eyes. I don't want to know. I don't care. I don't want to be here.
"Hey, Lali!"
Lali. Ignore it. Maybe if I ignore him until he gets my name right, he'll learn. Like a dog. Don't give him positive reinforcement. That works, right?
"Buddy! Check it out!"
Okay. No way I'm getting out of this. I begrudgingly turn my eyes upward.
Bambam stands by the mirrors, flanked by his yes men. He lifts his hands and motions to the black corral cowboy hat on his head. "What do you think? Can you see me walking down the aisle in this or what?"
"That's cute." I say, in a monotone manner.
"So you like the hat?"
"No. That's cute that you think you're going to be walking down the aisle."
Bambam's smile fades. I turn my attention back to my phone. I hear him shoo away his posse ("Give me a moment, yeah? Think they've got some ties in the back."). Still, I don't budge until Bambam is up in my face and his big, clunky hand clasps my shoulder.
"Hey, let's talk." It's not a request. I'm petty, but even I know when it's time to face the music, so I tuck my phone away in my back pocket.
"All right."
Bambam presses his lips together and lets out a sigh like a deflating balloon. "Listen Lisa... I know that you don't approve of me and your sister getting hitched. I don't know what it is about me... maybe you think I'm some stupid country hick."
"Well Bambam, the first step to fixing a problem is admitting it."
"But let me tell you..." Bambam smiles, but there are daggers in his teeth. "... if there's one thing us country boys do well, it's protect our own. Mina's my family now. If you try to come between us, I don't care who you are. I'll knock your pearly teeth out."
The hair on the back of my neck rises. Before I realise it, my hands are tight fists. "Why wait?" I challenge him.
Bambam just grins. He pats my shoulder, and I wince. "Heck Lisa, you are so wound up. Have a drink. Relax."
He makes to leave, but I shoot back, "I don't think you're stupid. Or too country, whatever that means. I think you're Mina's flavour of the week and, by this time next year, she won't remember your name."
Bambam frowns at that, but it's a sympathetic frown. The kind of scowl that a doctor gives before he delivers terminal news. "That's where you're wrong. I love the hell out of that lady. And she loves me." His eyes flicker over me. "Let's get along, Lisa. Don't make her choose between us." As he walks away, over his shoulder, he adds, "You aren't gonna like the choice that she makes."
My fists don't relax. They can't. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I feel a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I push my fingers through my hair and try to shake out the flight-or-fight instincts. In my mouth, I taste metal.
This isn't over.
