Jennie
The wedding is beautiful. Mino, my good friend and constant confidant, stands at the altar in a handsome tuxedo with a red vest. He's nervous, I can tell, but he maintains his composure as he scans the crowd, anxiously awaiting his bride. His best man, Zico, whispers something in his ear and Mino ducks his head, smiling shyly.
Joy is stunning in her slim, beige dress with a sleek, red bow tied on the side. Her hair is curled, pushed back on her forehead with clips of white flowers, and the tendrils spiral loosely around her shoulders. Her flawless skin is flushed with the slightest tint of pink as she smiles adoringly at her soon-to-be husband.
I can't help it. I get honest to goodness tears in my eyes as I watch Mino reciting his vows, promising to honour and love his wife forever and always. I don't usually cry at weddings - not even that time I was elbowed in the nose over the bouquet - but seeing Mino so happy just does something to me, and within minutes I'm sniffing up a storm and trying to stem the snot flow with nothing but my wet hands and a half a tissue that Jisoo offered to share.
After Mino kisses his bride, everyone stands to applaud. They take a lot of pictures - nearly one-hundred thousand or so, it seems - and in the meantime we make our way over to the reception area. There's an open bar and hors d'oeuvres set among two giant wedding cakes. To the left is a stage where the band is setting up. The sun is setting and each table, set several yards away from the dance floor and reception building in general, is lit by a candle and adorned with a tiny vase and single red rose.
Mino and Joy make their way over to cut the cake. They share their first dance, then Joy dances with her younger brother, in lieu of her father, who died several years prior.
Zico and P.O make their way over to me and we engage in small talk, our conversation constantly dancing back to Mino and how we never imagined he'd be the first to be married as we dig up old memories and stories from our past. They always teased me mercilessly, but tonight there seems to be an unspoken truce. Our attention is on the happy couple - this is their night - and I'm ashamed that I had thought it would be any other way.
We stay late, wishing our friends a good time as they leave to begin their honeymoon. We offer to help clean up but Mrs. Park immediately shoos us away.
"I've already paid someone to help do this, Jennie," she says dismissively. "You kids go have fun." But when I try to walk away she suddenly grabs me by the arm. "Hey, did you get a chance to talk to Eun-woo?" she asks, her eyes flicking suggestively to the bar. Eun-woo is there cleaning, oblivious to our conversation.
I had mumbled a few words to him while receiving my drinks, but that was all. He was cute. He seemed nice, even. But I couldn't take my mind off Lisa long enough to really appreciate person.
"We spoke a little," I say truthfully. "But I'm not really interested right now."
"That's a shame," she says, shaking her head. "Both of you are such a catch. And both single, too! Such a shame."
"Right. Well, maybe one day," I say, attempting to soothe her sudden bout of disappointment. She nods eagerly, smiles sympathetically, and grants me one final good-bye before we part ways.
I'm not offended by her behaviour - if anything, I'm indifferent. It's not just about being single or in a relationship, but about being with someone you really care for. Because otherwise, it's all a waste of time. There's no point.
Once Hae-in and Jisoo drop me off at my place, I head to my car to retrieve my iPod. I'm exhausted and my feet are numb - I also have a massive food baby from all the food and alcohol I consumed - but I'm generally satisfied with today's events. I'm satisfied with myself.
I grab my iPod and head up the stairs. I feel something on my shoe and look down, quickly realizing that my skinny heel has speared a piece of paper. I snatch it off and absentmindedly unravel the wadded sheet.
The note holds two words, the letters scrawled and sloppy. The handwriting is both familiar and strange, and it takes a moment before recognition dawns.
My breath hitches, because I know she was here. I quickly look around, a part of me eager to find her waiting, that same part of me disappointed to discover that I'm alone.
But it's better that she isn't here. We need to talk eventually, but I also need time to digest everything. I need to think and consider and know exactly how I feel when I face her again. Because the next time I face her, I vow to be completely honest. About everything.
