WAY home later that night, I pick up Ara and Sujin from SeverLand, the new esports entertainment park from Berserk Games, Bruce’s Internet game company. To be honest, the only reason I bother to stop by is to buy the rum drink they sell at the fantasy café there. Bruce used to bring me some when he found out I liked rum. They sell it in containers that look like dragons’ eggs. In the café, I stare at the rows of glowing eggs and decide not to buy any after all.
I find the two of them gaming furiously in a corner of the PC bang and Sujin gestures that they will get off in ten more minutes. Ara does not even look up. I take in the sea of intense, focused faces, all of whom are putting money into Bruce’s pocket every minute they spend at their game pods, and take to wandering around the labyrinthine park as I wait for them, bemused. It’s a strange place that manages to be both childlike and violent, with cryptlike doors, intricate murals of battle scenes, and stained-glass windows depicting pixies and dragons and warrior women with ludicrous breasts. I think about how much money each intricate detail must have cost. I remember Bruce brought an artist to Ajax once to discuss which scenes he wanted depicted in the park. The artist didn’t say much, just drank a great deal and grunted with his eyes half-closed to everything Bruce said.
The manager oppa told me today that Bruce has been back to Ajax a few times. Everyone is under strict instructions to never let him see me.
* * *
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SUJIN AND I have to help carry posters of scenes from the game home because Ara went crazy at the gift shop. She has been redecorating her room. “She ripped up all the Taein photos,” Sujin whispered to me when I was gasping over the merch prices. I had to persuade Ara not to buy a full cosplay costume of a water pixie from the game.
The air is thick tonight and I wonder if there has been talk of rain. The girls want to hear details about the interview but there isn’t much to tell. Dr. Shim’s face was impassive as usual and I told them it had been just for practice and they said they would let me know. I do not want them to see that I care so much.
When we reach the office-tel, the married lady Wonna is sitting on the front steps, her hands resting on her stomach.
I don’t know if I should tell her how frightening she looks, sitting there on the steps in the shadows like some unearthly wraith, staring out at the street with dull eyes. But I needn’t worry—people walk on by, oblivious in their gaiety. Saturday nights are always busy on our street—all the bars are ablaze with light and people are euphorically drunk as they fight over what to do next.
“I was wondering when you would be getting home—I saw that your lights were off and I couldn’t sleep,” she calls out when she sees us, her face suddenly flaring with warmth. Ara runs up and sits down next to her and starts showing her the posters that she just bought. The married lady is nice enough to act interested, and Sujin joins in, explaining each of the characters.
Sitting down on the cool steps next to Sujin, I bow and say hello and the lady does the same to me. Ara has been keeping us informed of all the latest developments about the married lady and her baby, even though I am not all that interested, to be honest. Apparently, the lady was in a frenzy, decorating the house. Babies these days have the craziest stuff, Ara had texted us from a baby fair last weekend because the lady had asked if she could accompany her. Ara sent photos of pastel bumper beds with tents, air purifiers for strollers, and UV sterilizing machines shaped like doll ovens.
“I forgot, Miho said that your parents asked her to hold some packages for you? They came by earlier and knocked on her door when they found you weren’t home,” says Sujin. “She didn’t know your number, so she asked us to