The Algorithm of Spring

53

Ji-young's building was curated wealth—forty floors of mirror-polished confidence. The lobby was less an entrance than an exhibit.

"Ms. Kim?" the doorman asked, checking his screen. "Fifteenth floor. Ms. Park is expecting you."

The elevator rose without a sound. Mirrored walls offered infinite Mayas, none entirely matching. Each a different outcome.

She stepped into the hallway: cool, cushioned, flattering.

Behind the apartment door: laughter, glass, ambient music.

The door opened before she could knock.

"Maya! Oh my god, you've finally emerged from your crypt. Look at you," she said, giving her a quick once-over. "Like a depressed fashion editor. I love it."

Maya smiled, unsure which part of the sentence she was meant to accept.

"I brought this," Maya said, lifting the bottle.

Ji-young examined the bottle. "Is that wine? That's adorable of you."

The bottle disappeared onto a counter, never to be seen again.

"Everyone's here. Soo-mi even got a sitter. Can you believe it?"

The living room was all warm lighting and low furniture. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed Seoul's skyline like a trophy.

Hye-jin looked up first. "Maya! We were just talking about that new fusion place in Garosugil. Ji-young's husband got us a table next week. You should come."

"Maybe," Maya replied. "I'm pretty busy at the moment."

"Busy?" Hye-jin raised an eyebrow. "From what I've been reading, most galleries have moved to AI curation by now. You should be killing it—we were hoping you'd pick up the tab," she teased.

Maya held her glass a little tighter, letting the comment pass.

"My cousin just launched a limited algorithm series," she added. "They're trading like crypto."

Maya took a sip. The wine was expensive. It still tasted like nothing.

Across the room, Soo-mi was quieter than Maya remembered. After a moment, she spoke up: "The baby finally sleeps through the night. Someone recommended a new nighttime routine. It works, mostly..." She trailed off.

Ji-young pivoted the conversation. "Maya, your posts lately? Half haiku, half hostage note. We've been trying to decode them."

"I've been taking time for myself. Trying not to document so much," Maya said.

Someone mentioned Su-jin.

Hye-jin said, "She's working at that old bookshop by Nakseongdae. Cash only. Still has twelve months left on the lockout."

"Turns out her ex was chaebol royalty—like, third-tier succession drama. She thought she could disappear. Please. You can't even ghost your parents in this city."

Maya hadn't known that. For once, something she hadn't learned online—actually receiving information she didn't already have, a modern novelty.

"She's talking about Japan," Ji-young continued. "Her cousin's in Osaka. Less integrated. For now."

"At least she has options," Soo-mi said softly.

A silence opened—the kind none of them wanted to step into.

Then Hye-jin: "Her degree was wiped. Medical history, too. If she sees a doctor, they're starting from scratch. It's dangerous."

Maya drank instead of speaking.

Soo-mi ran a thumb along her glass. Hye-jin smoothed creases into her napkin.

Ji-young stood, raising an eyebrow at Maya. "You're quieter than Soo-mi's baby after her new sleep routine."

She returned with another bottle.

"You know silence makes rumors start, right? I heard you joined a convent. In Busan," she joked.

The room felt too warm, the lights too bright.

"I need air," Maya said. Her voice didn't sound like hers.