Meanwhile, Jaehee had a whole lot of things she needed from me. Her promotion came with a murderous workload, and with her future husband being largely absent from the preparations, I was her stand-in groom. I accompanied her to the bridal shop, to the hanbok shop, to interior design firms, and so on, helping her pick things out. At first, I’d only look over her shoulder as she made the decisions, but soon I was the one touching all of the fabric samples and insisting she use the colors I liked. I didn’t mind it so much since it wasn’t so terrible, but I drew the line when she asked me to emcee the event. No matter how much I insisted I didn’t want to be involved in a straight wedding, she refused to back down.

—How could you not be a part of my wedding?

—How could I be a part of it? No. I refuse. I don’t even own a suit.

—I’ll buy you one. Armani.

—I’m an anti-marriage activist. One who’s beginning to turn militant, having seen what you’re going through.

—Cut the bullshit and just do it for me. You love attention!

That was a misunderstanding on her part—I was a very different man when I was drunk. But no matter how many times I declined, she kept insisting, and eventually I had to yield. Fine, I said, I’ll emcee the thing, but you have to come up with the script yourself. She agreed.

Not even a week had gone by when she came home one day with two boxes of Kyochon fried chicken. Obviously, she was feeling guilty about something. Jaehee offered up the chicken and mumbled:

—So apparently, it’s traditional for the groom’s best friend to emcee? Oppa has a friend who’s a television reporter, and he’s going to do it. I’m so sorry.

Had I asked her for the role in the first place? Not that I’d ever wanted to do such a thing like emcee a wedding, but the thought of not being able to do it because of some stupid tradition disgusted me. She must’ve had some words with the groom. Jaehee said there was an alternate spot for me in the wedding.

—The congratulatory song.

—Are you insane?

—Think of it as paying me back for using my story to debut as a writer.

—Then give me back the Chanel bag I got you.

—If you don’t do this for me, I’ll sue your publisher for defamation.

Public embarrassment seemed a better choice than a lawsuit, and with the successful negotiation of adding an Armani suit and shirt and a Gucci necktie to the bargain, I was all set to sing for her wedding.

The newlyweds were to live in an apartment in the Bangeui-dong neighborhood. Jaehee’s parents had apparently bought it years ago as an investment.

◊

On our last day of living together, we bought ten of the largest-size boxes at the post office. We neatly packed them with Jaehee’s stuff, like her shift dresses and leather jacket. Jaehee said to me: