"I love this thing." Anna and I are out for drinks and she has Eppy open in front of her. "I use it for work and everything. All together. You need an app, though."
"I know." Right now it's only available as a web version that I built myself, thanks to online tutorials.
"It keeps me on track. Do you know how much time I've saved this week? Six hours. Six! I binge-watched Netflix without shame."
I beam at her. Eppy is good. I know it. "Thanks."
"I don't know how you came up with this." She shakes her head. "It's the thing I didn't know I needed but I can't live without. What's next?"
"I need to sell it. Promote it. Get the funding for the app." I have a business plan and my list of people to call. Tri is right on the top but I haven't had the courage to make the call, not after what happened with Taehyung. Now that I've put it in my Don't Think, Do column—saved for the tasks that you'll do anything to avoid—it's going to happen.
"You're the Marie Kondo of time management," Anna says. "I already have people at work using it."
We get new drinks and then Anna leans forward. "Spill."
"What?" I empty about half of my drink in a single gulp and have a coughing fit that Anna sits through with an impassive face.
"Kim Taehyung." It's a soft name with smooth, rounded sounds but she enunciates it crisply.
"What about him?"
"That's what I'm asking. I saw a lot of footage of you guys together. You looked great, by the way."
"Makeup and hair."
She snorts. "Bull. You glowed whenever you looked at him and he . . . Whew, girl." She shakes her head. "That man was into you. I don't know why you two are over just because you didn't want to be Duna anymore."
I trace circles on the table with my fingertip.
"Suzy."
"They thought I called ZZTV." I sigh. "I thought they did anyway. That's the main reason I left."
"How did you get that idea?" Her eyebrows pull down to a point between her eyes.
"I listened to their conversation." I fill her in on what I overheard and she sighs, then look around the bar for a moment before letting her gaze rest on me.
"Did you think, possibly, an app wasn't the most authoritative way to get a translation?"
"I do now," I mutter. "I was wrong. Taehyung said so when he came to find me."
"He did what?"
"Only to get me back to help Duna."
Compassion softens her face. "That sucks."
"Yeah."
We sit in silence for a moment. "Are you sure that's why he came after you?"
"That's what he said. So yes."
"Or is that what you expected to hear? You never trusted his feelings?"
"I did." Didn't I? Or was I always nervous, as if I was getting played? That there was no reason that Taehyung would be interested in a nobody like me? Doubt. Always that little seed of doubt no matter what he did.
"I don't think you did. I think you think he's some big-ass movie star and you're not, so why would he care about you."
I go bright red because having these thoughts laid out is as embarrassing as being stripped in public. "What if I did?"
"God, have come pride, woman. Look at you. You're smart and driven enough to create a new productivity plan like you run a fucking Toyota manufacturing"Righ line. You managed to trick the world in thinking you were a movie star. You're attractive enough that it was believable." She pauses, gripped by feminist regret. "Not that looks are important."
"Right."
"You doubt yourself too much, Suzy." She reaches out across the table to grab my hands, which startles me because she's not a big toucher. Now she looks into my eyes. "You need to believe in yourself."
Duna said the same thing. Duna, my sister. I'm bursting to tell Anna but it seems wrong to share Duna's story before she knows herself. I must have started and deleted a dozen emails to Duna, each one a master class in graceless phrasing.
"Refill, ladies?" The server comes by and the moment is broken, but I'm a little shaken. Why don't I believe in myself? It's why I say yes instead of no. Why I let Bens of the world walk over me.
All those things Anna said are right. I did do those things. I take care of my mom. I do my best.
As if she knows she's hit a sore spot, Anna backs off and we have a final glass of champagne and talk about her trip to New York and a new spa we both want to try but don't want to spend money on. When we leave, Anna surprises me again with a hug. "Call if you need me," she says. "You're not going to bother me."
I get on the bus with her words in my ears. I do worry about bothering people. I worry about taking too much space, too much time, too much attention. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe it's possible to take up the perfect amount.
A Suzy-sized amount.
ヽ(￣ω￣(￣ω￣〃)ゝ
I'm a little hungover the next morning but a glass of water does the trick. I check my Eppy and see I have enough time to doze before I start my day but it's not a comfortable rest.
Two choices lie in front of me. I can contact Taehyung and Duna, apologize, and explain my side of the story and hear theirs. Or I can pretend this entire month never happened. I didn't meet Duna and Taehyung. I didn't find my sister. I didn't fall in love.
How can I turn my back on that, even if I risk getting hurt?
I need to think so I jump out of bed, grab my head when I realize the hangover isn't completely gone, and then throw on my clothes and sunscreen before steeling myself to swim through the heavy summer humidity. I swing open the door and stop dead.
Ira stands there. She looks the same as always, cool and collected, her hair in a prefect center part that doesn't cowlick to the side at the rear. She's not even sweating.
"Hi?" I step back, a silent invitation for her to come into the house. He must be here on a mission from Duna, and I'd prefer to have the conversation in the air-conditioned living room rather than on my steaming steps.
Ira follows me in, leaving her black flats tidily at the door. Her gaze flits from the mess of the blankets on the couch, where I'd been nesting yesterday, to the half-empty cans of diet sodas scattered on the floor. My laptop is precariously balanced on the edge of the table.
She sits on the yellow quilted chair, a garage sale find from two years ago, and doesn't say a damn word.
Now that the sun's not in my eyes, I can make out a few more details. Her shirt is a bit wrinkled and her eyes look swollen. "Is there a problem?" I ask, anxiety climbing fast at this unusual Ira behavior. "Is it Duna?"
"I was the one who called ZZTV." Her shoulders are straight as she delivers this news.
"Huh?" Not the most articulate response but honestly? It's been a hell of a week for bombshells.
Ira's dark eyes meet mine. "You heard me."
I suppose I did. "Duna knows? Taehyung?"
She looks down. "Yes."
"You called ZZTV." I let the words settle. "Why?" A thin rush of anger starts to trace through my veins. "Why the hell would you do such a thing? Did you hate us so much?" Because Duna wouldn't come out of this undamaged. I should kick Ira out of my house bust her body folds in on itself before I can act.
"I'm sorry." Her voice is so feather soft it barely reaches me across the room.
I can tell she is, that she's sorry for something, but I can't tell if it's for what she did or because she got caught. "But why?" I repeat.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Wasn't thinking clearly about what?"
She looks me right in the eye. "I wanted you gone."
Oh. Not what I expected. I knew she never liked me but this level of sabotage is beyond pale. "Got your wish, then." That was sharper than I wanted, and I don't like the satisfaction I get from making Ira wince.
She doesn't say anything and again I'm stuck in the role of having to force conversation with this woman. "How did Duna find out?" And Taehyung, who tried to tell me in the café but I was too stubborn and sad to listen.
"I told her."
I have grudging respect for that. "I thought it was Ben."
She shakes her head. "He went away after Taehyung sent him a copy of the dossier he had the detective collect on his behavior. Taehyung also warned him that he would be watching to see if he treated other women poorly."
Some good news at least. The final hit of tension that has sat under my skin about Ben loosens. I don't have to worry about him anymore. He's repulsive little worm but at least he won't be taking his inadequacies out on other women.
I suddenly see that I'd stood up without noticing and sit down because I need all my energy to process what she's saying. "I don't understand why you did this. Why did you want me gone?"
Ira was silent. We never had a close relationship but don't I deserve a reason why she hated me? I think back over our interactions. I did my best to be good to work with, eventually. I tried to be polite and friendly. Had I overstepped when I asked her for help?
Then I remember the way she shut the door when she gave me the umbrella for my date with Taehyung. When she saw us holding hands. Even before that, her face, watching Taehyung as he entered a room. I should have recognized it, but it was so close to how mine must have looked.
Omo, it wasn't me at all. She was in love with Taehyung? It's on the tip of my tongue to ask her but I freeze. Despite what she's done, the question is too intrusive for me to say out loud and it's too egotistical to ask, Did you try to wreck my life because you thought I was a rival for Taehyung?
"What did Duna say?" I say instead.
Her eyes filled with tears. "She said she understood but I'd have to leave."
Makes sense. "Did she forgive you?"
Ira nods.
Of course she did, damn her generous heart. If Duna can forgive that kind of betrayal from someone she trusted, so can I. Deep down, I'm tired. I don't have the strength to be angry at Ira. It happened. I can't reverse time and make her not pick up the phone. She's going back to Korea and we'll never see each other again. I want to be free of all negative parts of this experience, and topping that list is ZZTV and all things ZZTV-adjacent.
"Thank you. For telling me." I take a breath. "It's fine." It's not, but saying I forgive you is so ponderous, like a crime boss excusing a subordinate confessing a massive cock-up.
Ira bows her head and stands, and I do as well. Now that she's had the pleasure of unburdening her sins, I want her out of my house. I pity her but I don't want her around in case she adds more to my emotional dogpile.
She's gone quickly and I collapse on the couch, walk forgotten.
It was Ira. I texted Anna.
Anna: I'm in a meeting but is she in the games room with the dagger?
Me: nice. She told ZZTV. It was Duna's assistant. I think she did it because she was in love with Taehyung.
Anna: That is seriously messed up. Toxic. Dudes aren't worth that shit.
Me: Said she was worry. Came to my house.
Anna: Oh that takes guts. What's your move?
Anna: No answer?
Anna: Radio silence cool cool. I'm up to present at this meeting and when I'm back I want to hear some Eppy-level planning.
I don't reply because I've pulled over my computer to look at Eppy. I highlight Call Duna and tell her about Eomma. This might have been one of my Don't Think, Do tasks but I've been Think, Don't Doing. Then I add another: Tell Taehyung I might have jumped to conclusions. My chest clenches at the idea that the Taehyung ship has sailed and my ticket lies in tatters on the pier.
Eppy is a great planner but I wish it had a module for how to approach this kind of emotional obstacle course.
I pull out my phone and newsfeed comes on my screen before I can tap for the messaging app. I want to give Duna time to decide her response and a call puts her on the spot. "Exclusive wedding news," the headline blares.
Duna and Taehyung smile out at the camera.
I click on the story before I can help myself, and it's what the headline promises. Actors Lee Duna and Kim Taehyung will be married before the end of the year. Quotes from sources about how they've been in love since drama school punctuate long paragraphs about Taehyung's film royalty lineage. Another photo features the two of them, except it's me in a white dress smiling at Taehyung, not Duna.
My body chills as I stare at the photo. Marriage? It makes sense, I tell myself. Nana's interference obviously only hastened the inevitable. After all, neither of them had absolutely rejected the idea of getting married, and Taehyung had seemed fatalistic about his mother's plans. Obviously they've known each other for a long time and Taehyung would do anything for Duna and . . . what a mess this is. I curl up on the chair. What a fucking mess but I can't run away from it. Despite this update about their relationship status, I need to contact them.
Don't think, do.
I grab the notepad and move over to the kitchen table.
Duna is first and easiest because talking to her was always comfortable. I decide that even with the news and the marriage, I can't keep what I've learned from Eomma a secret. She can decide what to do with that information, whether she wants to believe me or not. The text I send to her now unblocked number is simple and to the point—an apology for leaving her and that I know the truth about ZZTV from Ira. I tell her I might have some information about her mother, if she'd like to know. That I miss her.
I'm not usually this open with feelings but I want to restart on the right foot if she'll let me. I decide to not mention her engagement because every time I write it out, the sentence sounds painfully passive-aggressive. I'll do that in person if she wants to meet.
I read this block of text over about twelve times and then send it.
The second one is harder, and I decide to send a hello to commit myself before I get into the nitty-gitty.
Hi, Taehyung.
It bounces back. I stare at the message in disbelief. Not in service? Here I am, about to take an emotional leap into the unknown, and the number doesn't work. Even if I had been tentative before, now I'm desperate to get Taehyung this message, if only to get it done with.
I don't have his email. Do I? I open up my email to look and find a an interview request from the South Korea Morning Post.
As I'm reading it, the notification bar drops down to announce a message from BBC. CNN Asia pops up a moment later.
They're not about my impersonating Duna. They're about Eppy.
Now almost frantic, I grab my laptop and check my website and check it again. Yesterday, my downloads were exactly twenty-six. Now it's been downloaded over twenty thousand times.
What the hell happened?
It's too much for me take in and time slows to a crawl. I need to get back to these people but what do I say? Is this all a big accident? It must be. A great joke on Suzy.
You don't believe in yourself.
I open my laptop and read the emails carefully. They all say the same thing, that Kim Taehyung swears by this method and it's now a trend in Korea. They want to talk to me about my philosophy and what I want to achieve. They want me to walk through why Eppy is different.
Taehyung plugged Eppy? Why?
Because it works and it's good. I might not believe in myself yet, but I believe in Eppy.
I'm not ready but I can do this.
The first thing I do is try to find what Taehyung's said. It takes some digging but I eventually find a tweet from KaKaoTalk, the Korean twitter.
No way I could keep organized without Eppy. Swear by it to keep productive.
It links to my website. That's it, but I guess when you're Kim Taehyung with millions of followers, that's enough. The retweets on Twitter alone are over forty thousand, and I have to do the same breathing practices to keep calm. This is what I wanted, after all. I believe in this.
I jazz-hand my fingers to get them to stop shaking and email the South Korea Morning Post to set up an interview. Then the BBC and CNN Asia. When the Guardian and Bloomberg requests roll in, I accept those, too.
The interview requests arrive all afternoon, and after I do the first two, I notice the questions are similar. I get more comfortable each time I talk about how Eppy is designed to help you organize your whole life, since we're all busy and multifaceted. I give examples of some of my tasks and why I add items immediately because I have the memory of a goldfish. When they ask how Kim Taehyung heard about a planner that's only in beta, I laugh and say they'll have to ask him but I'm glad it works for him and do my best to not let my voice shake.
The hardest are the TV interviews but the producers are kind and walk me through what to expect, since I suppose me freezing in fear doesn't do them any good either. In between, I check my downloads.
The numbers keeps ticking up.
It's almost midnight by the time I'm done, and I'm so wired I pace my apartment in circles. Anna sends me an emoji0laden text with a link to the CNN interview. I knew you could do it, she says.
I did but it's all thanks to Taehyung, who I can't get in touch with. Can I email his agency? Agent? There has to be a way to contact him if Duna doesn't call.
I go to bed exhausted and my dreams are filled with Taehyung using my planner. Second sexiest night I've ever had.