The Love Deception |Taekook

Chapter 39

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I stood with my hands on my hips, getting a little lost in the palette of blues and greens that painted the view before me. When people thought of Korea, they thought of jammed
beaches under the merciless summer sun. They thought of tables loaded
with jars of Soju, pans stuffed with Kimchi, and a payload of tapas. They
most likely thought of some dark-haired dude serenading the evening with impossibly masterful fingers stringing a guitar too. And in a way, they were not completely wrong.

One could find that in Korea. But it was only a small part of what represented my home country. One that sadly didn't even cover ten percent of what it offered. Today the sky was clear, and the breeze from the sea was gentle. It brought
me back to a time when, in days like these, we would try to make the most
of it, as if our life depended on it. From dawn till dusk. Jiwoon and me.
The Jeon siblings.

Taking a peek at the group of people who had gathered today for the
Wedding Cup, a little part of me wondered what was going on inside of Taehyung's head. What had been his first impression of the place that had seen me grow up? Of my people?
Introductions had gone better than good. If Koreans were known for
something, it was their openness and hospitality. Nobody had seemed to bat
an eyelash at my fake boyfriend. Not more than the awkwardness of having a gwangwang-gaeg—what we called tourists—and therefore having to use their rusty English.

Only the youngest generation of both the bride and groom's families,
their partners, and some of our closest friends were here. Except for our barbaric and free-spirited cousin Hwan, who no one knew where he had disappeared to this time. And the best man—otherwise known as Mingyu, my ex, my first and only relationship, or the man my family believed I had never gotten over. He had not arrived yet.

"yeogi naega jeil joh-ahaneun dongsaeng-i iss-eo." (Here is my favorite brother ) .My sister's voice reached me a heartbeat before I was tackled from behind.

"I'm your only brother, idiot. Of course I'm your favorite." I wrapped my hands around her forearms, which were resting on my collarbone.
"Forget about technicalities. You are still my fave." Sticking my tongue out, I looked at her over my shoulder. If not for our round-shaped faces, we wouldn't look anything alike. Jiwoon had always been taller and leaner than me. Her eyes had little green speckles to the brown we shared—something I had always been envious of—and her hair was curlier and darker, just like Eomma's. But the differences didn't stop there. Where my sis was this puzzle piece that fit anywhere at the first try, I had always seemed to struggle with finding my place.

Somehow, I always managed to be missing a little corner or have an extra edge that pushed me to keep trying somewhere I might fit better. That pushed me to keep looking
for that place to call home. Because that was no longer korea for me. But
neither was New York as much as I had Rosie and a career I was proud of.
It had always felt ... a little lonely. Incomplete.

"Hello? Earth calling kook," she said, coming to my side and tugging at my arm. "What's up with you today? Why are you hiding here?" I had been doing that, hadn't I? Even if only for a few minutes. My big sister knew me far too well, so I made a note of being extra watchful around her with Taehyung.
If there was someone who would see
through the deception, it would be Jiwoon.

"Not hiding." I shrugged my shoulders. "I was just trying to have a
moment of peace away from the bridezilla. I heard she almost ripped the groom's head off because he'd bought the wrong shoes." I stepped away and turned, so I could face her.
"You heard that right." My sister and bride-to-be brought a hand to her
chest, feigning dismay. "I let him pick one thing, kook. One. And he came
home, all proud and happy, with a pair of shoes that made me question my taste in men, really." She shook her head.