The Algorithm of Spring

15

The ceremony's solemnity dissolved into the chaos of the reception. Photographers edged and directed guests into position, capturing joy with professional precision. Maya weaved amidst the masses, avoiding eye contact and dodging group photos.

The first ambush came at the buffet table.

Maya had barely lifted a plate when Auntie Soo-kyung materialised, her silk hanbok rustling. "Maya! Twenty-nine already, aren't you?"

Maya's polite smile clicked into place. "Hello, Auntie."

Before she could retreat, two more aunts descended, boxing her against the desserts. Their concern a well-rehearsed performance.

"Did you see Min-ji?" Soo-kyung's voice dripped pride. "So beautiful. Such a forward-thinking couple."

"Very modern," Hyun-ja added, eyeing Maya. "No waiting around like in our day."

"And you, Maya?" Soo-kyung's gaze turned clinical. "Still too busy for marriage?"

Maya's eyes glazed over. "I'm focusing on my career."

"Career?" Hyun-ja clicked her tongue. "Look around—everyone's paths are so smooth now. Why must you insist on making things difficult?"

The third aunt leaned in, voice honeyed with pity. "There are special programs for women your age. They understand how... urgent things become after thirty. Time is not on your side."

Through the crowd, Maya spotted Min-ji posing for photos, her new husband's hand resting awkwardly on her waist. A photographer directed them through a series of poses while her wedding hair and make-up team fussed over her between shots.

"Just look at this," Soo-kyung thrust her device forward, displaying another success story. "My friend's daughter. Thirty-one, almost too late—but everything moved so quickly once she stopped resisting."

Maya gazed at the screen. "Very nice."

"The benefits are incredible now," Hyun-ja whispered. "Housing priority, medical coverage..." She left the implications hanging.

"It's not just about you anymore," the third aunt pressed. "Every year you wait..."

Maya's grip tightened on her plate. Her chest constricted; their words piled up like snow, burying her. The room was stifling; each shimmering hanbok and smiling guest pressed closer until even breathing felt like resistance.

"You know," Soo-kyung lowered her voice, "there's a wonderful clinic in Gangnam for facial tweaks, age-reversing. Very private. They're fantastic...or so I hear."

"I'll think about it," Maya managed.

"That's all we ask." Soo-kyung patted her arm. "We just want you to be happy. To find someone before it's too late, your mother is very worried."

The aunts drifted away, leaving Maya stranded between elaborate desserts she no longer wanted. Around her, young couples and friends compared profiles between bites, adjusting their parameters like day traders watching the market. Even the wedding cake bore a subtle, heart-shaped logo—elegant, somehow inevitable.

Maya retreated toward the edges of the celebration, a rounding error in an otherwise perfect equation.

Maya slipped through the crowd, the aunts' words still buzzing in her ears. The clinking glasses, flashing devices, joy and fixed smiles pressed in from all sides. She needed air. Just ahead, the balcony doors promised a moment of stillness amid the chaos.