“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.

The girls’ conversation swings to where they plan to go over the next school break. Jules suggests Hong Kong because there’s a near-empty flight scheduled and she’ll smuggle them aboard dressed as staff.

After the fourth piece of wrapped meat and more booze refills than I can count, my vision starts to blur. I would like to go up to my bedroom and pass out, but I don’t want to be targeted as a bad roommate before the first night is out. “Are there dishes to wash? I could do those now?”