Page 21 of Heart and Seoul (Seoul 1)

ME: I’m at the rental. It’s nice. Looks like the pictures.

Because I know she’s going to want a proof of life, I take a selfie and then a few snaps of the room. Mom’s reply comes so swiftly that I feel guilty for not sending her a message earlier.

MOM: Thank goodness. How is the neighborhood? Is it safe?

ME: There are a thousand steps to get to the apartment. If I was a criminal, I’d choose an easier victim.

MOM: ?? Are you saying it looks dangerous? Should I book a hotel?

ME: Kidding. Bad joke. Lots of stairs. No criminals spotted.

MOM: Don’t joke about your safety. You’re thousands of miles away. I worry about you!

ME: I know. Sorry.

If I tell the car story back home, Mom cannot ever hear of it. She’d lock me in my childhood bedroom and throw away the key.

MOM: Is everyone nice?

My mind immediately flits to Yujun.

ME: Very

MOM: I’m happy then. You must be exhausted. Get something to eat and then go to bed. Call me in the morning! I love you.

ME: I love you too

I allow myself one last minute of lying on the bed before pushing to my feet. Let me get some food inside my body and then I’ll rest. I make my way to a small outdoor patio off the kitchen, where Anna, Jules, and one other girl are seated around a small table a foot off the ground. In the middle of the table rests a grill. The redolent smell of caramelized meat travels at lightning speed into my nose and down to my stomach. It rumbles loudly as introduction.

“Climb on up,” Anna instructs, patting a yellow cushion beside her. “You’re in time for some samgyeopsal.”

“I have no idea what that is but it smells amazing.” I cross my legs and scoot close to the table.

“It’s pork belly. You’ll love it. Our chef tonight is Mel. Mel, this is Hara Wilson from—”

“Iowa,” I supply.

Anna snaps her fingers. “I knew it was one of those vowel states. She’s renting Sara’s room for the next two weeks.”

Mel waves her tongs in the air. “Hey. Here for work or fun?”

“Fun,” I say because I don’t want to launch into a long explanation of why I’m here. “I have friends here,” I add. It’s not a complete tale. Boyoung is a friend. Yujun from Seoul was very friendly and so he counts, too—at least for this argument.

“Awesome.” Mel reaches across the table and places a piece of meat on my plate.

“Mel and I teach at a hagwon, which is basically a private English tutoring school,” Anna explains. Mel is a small brunette with hair down to her butt and skin so pale she sort of glows in the moonlight. “You met Jules—she works for Hallywu Air.”

“It’s private air travel, so if you’ve got an extra three million won lying around, I can hook you up with a sweet jet.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Anna pours me a drink. “Cheers to our new roommate.”

I down the clear liquid. It’s tasteless at first, but there’s a kick at the end. My glass is refilled almost before I set it down. Mel finishes cutting up the meat with a pair of scissors and then parcels out the food in equal portions on everyone’s plate. Jules dabs a little red sauce in the middle of a lettuce leaf, adds the cooked meat, and folds it into her mouth. I do the same and nearly moan out loud as the pork almost melts in my mouth. As Anna promised, I do love it. I assemble another wrap as the small blonde goes on to explain the rest of the house rules.

“We change the Wi-Fi password once a week. The password is on the chalkboard in the kitchen. For food, everyone buys their own stuff. Write your name on whatever you don’t want anyone else to touch. You can either get it delivered or go to the market. Don’t cook anything smelly inside the house, so no beef or fish.”

“Or fried chicken,” Mel pipes up. She pours me another glass and motions for me to drink up.

“Right. Or fried chicken. Don’t leave the gimbap in the fridge longer than a couple days or the fish will stink up the fridge. Korea is super strict about recycling, so if you find a bag of trash in the freezer, don’t be alarmed. All the food waste is put in that bag. There’s a dry-erase board on the door for bathroom shower use. Sign up the night before. What else?” She scans the other members.

“We clean on Sundays,” Jules adds.

“Oh right.” Anna snaps her fingers. “Every Sunday we clean. Since you just got here, no one expects you to do much, but starting next week, you’ll need to chip in.”

“No problem.” I’ve stuffed two lettuce wraps into my mouth and I’m starting to feel sleepy. I make another one, though, and decide that food should always be wrapped in a lettuce leaf with a tiny bit of hot red paste. It’s literally the perfect food.

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