Emerald Strings

Filthy Redhead

Continuing her walk, Aaira found herself drawn to the illuminated steps of the TKTS booth, a popular spot for tourists. She climbed to the top of the red stairs and took a moment to sit down, gazing out at the bustling streets below. She pulled out her phone and snapped a few photos of the view, not for social media, but for herself.

As she descended the steps, she noticed a small, cozy bookstore tucked into the corner of a side street. It looked like it had been there for decades, with its vintage wooden sign and shelves visible through the glass windows. Intrigued, she stepped inside.

The air inside was warm and smelled of old books and coffee. The store was nearly empty, save for an older man behind the counter who gave her a polite nod. Aaira wandered through the aisles, running her fingers along the spines of books. She picked up a poetry collection and flipped through its pages, pausing to read a verse that caught her eye. It was a rare moment of peace in her otherwise hectic life.

She ended up buying the poetry book along with a small notebook. As she paid for her items, the man at the counter smiled and said, “Enjoy your night.”

“You too,” she replied softly, her voice muffled by the mask.

After leaving the bookstore, Aaira wandered through Times Square a bit longer, eventually finding herself at a small dessert café that stayed open late.

She ordered a slice of New York cheesecake and sat by the window, watching the world go by. It felt like a scene from one of her movies, sitting in a cozy café, surrounded by the energy of the city but wrapped in her own little bubble of calm.

***

Sung-hoon, still sitting in his study room was drinking nonstop. He was damned if anyone dared to treat him as anything less. His mother had insisted he go. Now, after the disaster of the evening, his phone rang, and he saw his mother’s name flash on the screen. The instant he picked up, her voice came through sharply, full of irritation.

“어디 가서 뭘 한 거야? 왜 그랬어? 그 여자 정말 많이 울고 있다고! 어떻게 그럴 수 있어?” (Where did you go, and what did you do? That girl is crying a lot! How could you do that?)

Sunghoon’s hand tightened around the phone, his grip turning white-knuckled. He snapped back, his voice sharp with a mix of anger and frustration.

“어머니, 대체 왜 이렇게 나를 대하시는 거예요?” (Mother, why do you treat me like this?)

He paused, running a hand through his dark hair, trying to keep his voice steady.

“그 여자한테 내가 색깔을 못 보는 것 때문에 그렇게 특별히 대하는 게 좋다고 생각하세요? 내가 색맹이라고 그런 거 다 알리고, 나를 바보 취급하고. 내가 뭐가 문제인데요? 그냥 색깔이 안 보일 뿐인데! 그게 그렇게 큰 문제인가요? 씨발!” (Do you think it’s right to treat me like I’m special because I can’t see colors? Telling her I’m colorblind, making me feel like a fool? What’s the problem with me? It’s just that I can’t see colors! Is that such a big deal? Fuck!)

There was a long silence on the other end, but Sunghoon didn’t care. His anger was boiling over, and he didn’t hold back anymore.

“왜 사람들은 내가 색깔을 못 본다고 해서 뭔가 다른 사람이 되는 거지? 난 아무 것도 안 바꿨는데, 다들 나를 이상하게 보고! 내가 전 세계에서 제일 큰 기업 회장이라도, 그 사람들한테 그렇게 대하면 내가 뭐가 되겠어요? 개새끼들!” (Why does everyone treat me like I’m someone different just because I can’t see colors? I haven’t changed a damn thing, but everyone looks at me weird! Even if I’m the chairman of the biggest company in the world, how would I feel if people treat me like that? Bastards!)