Lies took the elevator.
Truth took the stairs.
Both arrived and met Revelation.
Jane killed a family in a car accident. Depressive and accustomed to self-harm, she decides to go back to where her life toppled upside down. Jane doesn't know what to e...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Grrrrr."
"What's wrong, Jane?"
"Rebecca, she keeps pressuring me, saying I haven't got the level to study here, and she's convinced my dad to get me a tutor. Can you believe it? I'm 20, and I'm going to have a tutor. It's embarrassing."
"Jane, you haven't really studied these last few years."
Mona's right, with my in-and-outs of the hospital, my weekly vocation changes, and my general course skipping, I can only be thankful that daddy has the dollars.
I'm complaining, but I'll abide by their rules because I want to stay. It's not just because of the objectives I fixed myself. But being with Mona and Brad makes me feel like myself again. And also, Seoul is the closest thing I have to a home because it's the place that holds both the happiest and most painful memories of my existence.
We're at Agujeong buying new clothes, correction, Mona is buying clothes.
Mona's eyes gleam as she hands me a dress, "Jane, try this; it will look great on you."
"No, Mona, please," I interject as she shoves the pieces in my hands.
"You've thinned out since you've arrived. The clothes you wear are oversized and don't suit the trend."
"Well, with Rebbecca serving me salads and forcing me to participate in her yoga lessons with Laetitia, her private yoga teacher from Paris. It's not difficult to lose weight," I say, leaving out the part explaining I run about 15km a day.
From size 16 of my arrival, I'm like a 12, which I think is okay. At least it makes me furtive amongst the broomsticks.
"Please, Jane, try this."
I get up and take the skirt twinset she's handing me. It's a long knitted skirt with its matching the knitted top, where it would be a little loose-fitting for a Korean girl on me it clings.
"Mona, do they have a size up," I ask, but I know the answer.
She cocks an eyebrow, "It's one size, bae."
"Grrrr."
"Stop with that; you sound like a bear; now show me the outfit."
I step out, "wow, very nice," the over-enthusiastic salesgirl says.
Her remark might be authentic, but her broad grin makes me doubt her sincerity, especially since I've been hearing her say the same thing to every woman who came out of the fitting room.
"Wow, Jane, it looks great, we're getting into the cold season, and this would look great with a pair of Doc Martens and a bomber jacket."
"Mona, I'm not a K-pop artist."
"Not yet; you know what you should go platinum blonde, or why don't you dye your hair back to its natural red?"
