TWENTY SEVEN

The glum girl stepped into my residence, Tiffany a few steps behind me.

One look at her and I opened my arms, stepping outside and embracing her in a hug. Although her eyes had hints of redness and puffiness, it wasn’t excessive; although it didn’t seem like it was for long, the simple thought of her crying made me uneasy and upset. “Don’t be sad, Tiffany isn’t even mad at you,” I told her, Jessica wrapping her arms around me in kind.

The two of us stayed like that for a few seconds, breaking apart only so that I could pull Jessica through the door and close it behind her. Tiffany offered her a pair of slippers, but when Jessica met her eyes, she flinched.

“What’s wrong? I don’t bite,” Tiffany said, trying for a good-natured, playful chuckle.

Jessica shook her head, taking off her shoes and slipping into the pair of slippers. “It’s—” she cut herself off abruptly. “Well, … nothing, it’s nothing,” she concluded, following me as I pulled her into the living room. I made sure to hide Tiffany’s bag of ‘clothing’ inside my bedroom; the last thing I needed was for Jessica to notice it and start ruffling through it.

“First of all, do you want to tell us what happened?” I began after seating ourselves on the sofa.

Jessica took a deep breath, giving Tiffany an uneasy look, who in turn gave her an encouraging smile and nod. I felt an inexplicable sense of pride from observing that; even though Tiffany’s dad coming to Korea was undoubtedly a situation Tiffany would rather avoid, being so understanding towards the person who allegedly was at least somewhat of a catalyst to the circumstance just added onto her long list of admirable, lovable qualities.

“I messed up,” she stated, the same pained expression appearing on her face again before burying her head in her hands.

I brought my hand up to stroke her hair, something I actually frequently did back in college whenever she would stress about upcoming exams or projects. “Sica, you can’t be perfect all the time, you realize that, right? If you’re a human, you will make mistakes, although I’m not even sure if whatever you did can even be called a mistake, knowing you.”

Jessica didn’t respond for a long time, only letting a chuckle out a moment later. “You can’t just call another girl ‘perfect’ if you’re already dating someone, Taengoo.”

The statement was so absurd that it genuinely took a few seconds for me to fully understand what she just said.

“What?”

The words flew out of my mouth subconsciously, my hand sliding back down to my sides.

“Yeah, Taeyeon, even if you’re trying to comfort your best friend, you can’t just say that,” Tiffany said in a playfully scolding manner—at least, from the time I’ve spent with her, I surmised that it was extremely likely that she was being playful.

“Ah, sorry,” I apologized, unsure of what else to do, “That wasn’t my point though…”

Jessica chuckled again, patting my knee. “I know, thanks for comforting me,” she said, sitting back up straight. “Basically, I did some thinking and made some conclusions, and when I submitted my weekly report, I decided to omit our meeting.” Tiffany nodded knowingly, in a way that suggested she understood Jessica’s situation or that she knew what was to happen. Admittedly, I had an inkling as well, judging from Jessica’s wildly panicked reaction earlier, but I decided to keep an open mind. “But he somehow knew about our meeting anyway and asked why I omitted the detail. I started panicking and, in the end, he got too suspicious of me and decided to come to Korea to check things for himself.”

It looked like Jessica wanted to say more, but promptly stopped when Tiffany clicked her tongue in annoyance. “It’s not enough to force me to Korea by myself, but now that man has to stalk me too? If calling the police on him would do anything, I would do it, but there’s no way he would—gah, it’s so frustrating,” she muttered, her fists balling up.

I quickly moved to the other side of Jessica, but Tiffany calmed down before I could situate myself.

“Fany…”

“Sorry, did I worry you?” she asked playfully, grinning.

I pursed my lips but didn’t respond. There was no way she recovered that quickly, did she? Should I still try to comfort her anyway?

“Also, he said one more thing before he hung up,” Jessica said. Both of us diverted our attention back to the nervous woman, who took a second to herself before continuing, “He wanted me to tell you that he wanted to meet you tomorrow, when he arrives.” I could see Tiffany tense up, something that Jessica seemed to notice too as she got noticeably more nervous after the fact. “He told me to convey this to you, and that he’d contact you when he’s ready.”

It only took a glance—no, one merely needed to be in her presence to understand her anger. Fumes were practically spurting out from her crown and she was nearly at the point of visibly shaking. It was like she was exuding an aura of rage, something which I was more worried about than scared of. I wanted to lean over and comfort her but felt that to be the inappropriate thing to do: how was I going to comfort her? Could I even do it? While I could sympathize for her situation, I couldn’t empathize with it.

“That man … he has the nerve to…”

“I’ll come with you,” I blurted out. Tiffany’s anger dissipated just like that, shock tell-tale in her eyes. I unflinchingly met her gaze, firm in my resolve to be the guardian in this instance. “He knows of me, right? Also, he didn’t expressly tell Tiffany to come alone, right?” I briefly looked over to Jessica, who shook her head in confirmation to my inquiry. “There it is. I can accompany you and help settle things. I can … um, you know, be your anchor or s-something,” I ended up muttering the last part, only realizing what I was saying halfway through saying it.

Tiffany broke out into a smile. “Aah you’re so cheesy,” she cooed.

Jessica let out something between a scoff and a chuckle. “Should I wait outside? I’ll make sure to keep my ears covered too. Actually, maybe I should just go somewhere else for a while?”

“W-Wait! Why are you getting up?”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks Jessi!”

“Why are you thanking her!?”

“Ok, well then, I’ll be back in … an hour?”

“That long!?”

“What, do you want me to wait longer? Fine, I’ll be back in two.”

“Don’t extend the time!”

“You know me so well, Jessi.”

It pained me to admit this, but I could see why and how the two were a couple in the past; their chemistry was undeniable. While I understood that I was the one who was Tiffany’s girlfriend, it still made me jealous to think this.

Tiffany laughed. “You’re so cute Taeyeon. Thanks for offering to come with me, you’ll always be my ‘anchor’.”

I felt myself flush at that, just a little, but since it was more in embarrassment to my own words than what Tiffany said, I figured it didn’t count … wait, did it even work like that?

“Well, even if he didn’t expressly say it, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want me there after what happened. Sorry again for—”

Tiffany held a hand up, silencing her. “I won’t let you apologize in place of that man,” she announced. “Actually, as his daughter, I should be the one apologizing to you.”

While it appeared that Jessica didn’t notice, I certainly did. Maybe it wasn’t as big as I thought it was, given that Jessica technically knew Tiffany for longer than I, but it was enough to put me in a brief state of bewilderment. After all, this was the first time Tiffany actually admitted to being related to her father, much less to being his daughter.

Initially, my plan was to help Tiffany reestablish a connection with her father, but it was she already making progress without me?

I never for one second debated whether or not I should withdraw my offer of accompanying her in her meeting with her father, but that thought hounded me throughout the rest of the day and all the way until Tiffany arrived at my house, informing me that his chauffer would pick us up at the address Tiffany provided, my family’s house, shortly.

The ride was luxurious, the interior of the car as fancy as one would expect from a rich family. While I had an idea of the wealth Tiffany’s father possessed, seeing it first-hand still amazed me. So needless to say, when we arrived at the high-class looking restaurant and entered the building, I was even further amazed.

Even though it was just the welcoming area, it had the whole package: the employees dressed in suits that made Tiffany’s work uniform look like a child’s plaything, the enormous ornate chandelier hanging above the area basked the area in a bright yellow glow, huge open-water fountains with more variety of fish than I’ve seen in most aquariums, the counters perfectly furnished wood that shined so brightly I could almost make out my reflection in the light-brown material, a satin-red rug embezzled with gold-laced patterns, … simply put, it was breath-taking. I suddenly felt self-conscious of the clothes I was wearing, which definitely felt much too casual to even be allowed to step foot into such an expensive place.

However dumb I must have looked being amazed at the place, the high-class aura this place exuded seemed to have no effect on Tiffany. Whether it was an effect of having been born into this kind of wealth or it was just her being determined and single-minded, I wasn’t sure. She simply waltzed up to the counter, me in hand, and talked to the employee there briefly before being led into the back of the restaurant and into a private room.

When I realized that we would be having a private room, I found myself relieved; one of my primary concerns was whether or not Tiffany would again burst with emotion and disturb the other customers, but I guess that kind of thing was never a concern if her nuclear family was this well-off.

Given, my family was also relatively wealthy, but we almost never indulged much; in fact, I wasn’t even sure my parents could afford a place like this, even if they worked for the government.

The employee left us in front of the door at Tiffany’s request, whom I could tell wanted a bit more time to mentally prepare herself. I gave her hand an encouraging squeeze, an action which caused her to turn her head to me. I smiled as our eyes met. “You can do this, Fany,” I said, pumping my fist encouragingly with my free hand.

Tiffany smiled her ‘that’s-cute’ smile, or so I liked to call it, and nodded, taking a deep breath before opening the door, the both of us stepping into the room.