It was a mistake by Taewithkookies

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December 2017 – Namsoon

I walk around the apartment, half-listening to the realtor on my heels spouting off the extras amenities that come with the apartment. I had already made up my mind to buy this loft. One because it is a bit far from my father's house and it is in an up and coming area of Seoul for us millennials. The loft has four bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms. The master is on the second floor. I'll turn one of the rooms into my workplace for my calls and drawing. I will leave the other as a guest room for when KangJoo visits. This purchase is quite a step up for a kid like me that was working part-time not less than three months ago.

'Soo Min', my alter ego at NightOwl Entertainment is now the top performer in the company. I have perfected 'Soo Min's' voice, image, and personality since I joined the company. I like some parts of this job and others I don't like but can tolerate even though the job has made me financially solvent. For instance, I hate when I don't like the customer, and he insists on speaking with me only, I have no recourse. Besides, I need the money.

I stopped the realtor and her ranting. I told her I would buy the loft. After all the paperwork is set and completed, I will move into the loft in two weeks. The only hiccup was listing my profession on the form. Mr. Park Bong Pal advised me to list my job as 'Communications Director'. I leave the realtor outside the loft and take a taxi to my current house that I share with my father.

Time to get back to work. This is my third month at NightOwl Entertainment, and I was able to quit my part-time job after the first month. What is the fascination with female college students? Mr. Park Bong Pal was right, most of the requests are for female college students. And why do they always start with 'what are you wearing'-boring! Thank God for Google. I just pull up a sexy outfit and describe it as my outfit of the day.

He was also right that I will make a shit load of money. Every week when I look at my bank account I am in awe at the gullibility of men. When I started, I was a novice who was so embarrassed after each call that I asked to only take ten calls a day initially. Now, I'm the most requested agent at NightOwl Entertainment. I went from taking calls every day for eight hours straight as a newbie to just six calls a day at an average of one hour per call, and I'm making more money. And I have a steady stream of regulars.

When I told KangJoo on her recent visit to Korea that I was the top performer, she couldn't stop laughing. Then she stopped when I told her how much I make a week excluding calls from my only VIP.

"You make that much," she asked mouth opened.

"Yes."

"Fuck! I am in the wrong profession."

Suffice to say that the extra money has helped me get my father a live-in caretaker. I made sure he was involved in the interview process. The Ajumma I hired is a lovely quiet woman in her late forties. She is a widowed, single mother who works to put her daughter through college. She has black hair, with a helmet style cut. She's about five feet three inches and a former teacher I learned. She admitted during the interview that she wants a live-in position to save on expenses. I warned her that my father is a cranky old man so she's aware of what she's taking on. I told her I would like her to move in one week.

Even though I like Ajumma, I had security cameras installed around my father's house just for my peace of mind. The type I can access from my phone anytime, anywhere. I plan to stay in a hotel until my loft is ready the following week. The sooner I get out of my father's house, the sooner my sanity returns, just kidding. Maybe not.

I arrive home and my father's sitting in the living room watching television. I don't have to ask but I know he hasn't eaten. I greet him, and he ignores me. I start to make dinner. As a teenager who lived by himself while my father was overseas working, I learned to cook a variety of side dishes. I go about cooking some side dishes to go with rice and some steak. With my new job, I have been able to buy us steak, fish, and other high-end ingredients to my father's delight.

"Dinner's ready," I call out.

He shuffles over and sits to eat.

"I spoke with Ajumma and she will move in next week. The movers are coming in a few days before she moves in to clear out my room."

"Where will you live now?" He finally says something.

"I sent my new address to your phone. The place is just about thirty minutes' drive from here. I will stop by to see you as much as possible. And call me if you need anything, anything at all."

"Umm!" He grunts and continues eating.

Our usual silence reigns and we both finish our meal. I clean up, he returns to his television and I retire to my room to takes some calls. Time to step into my character as Soo Min. I have embraced the character. As Soo Min I can do, say, be any way I like. And of course, the money is outrageous.

I take a few calls and sign off for the day. The operator knows to transfer calls from JoongKi to me anytime, but I must have his permission to designate him as a VIP client. The one call I am usually looking forward to. He calls twice a week and it's almost the end of the week and no calls. JoongKi should be calling any minute now. He calls on Tuesdays and Fridays mostly. I smile when I remember our first call. I was so nervous that I almost bungled the whole thing. Thank God for my training. The one about choosing a model and memorizing her figure to describe to my clients came in very handy.

I am amazed at how quickly I got into the manner of a sultry sexy female college student. JoongKi hung up so abruptly on that first call that I thought I would never hear from him again. But he called back two days later and has been my top regular client to date.

Now we just chat, talk about our lives without disclosing intimate details but more like friends or pen pals only via phone. And now he hasn't called this week and it's the end of the week. Maybe he decided that the charges are too much for him or I'm too forward for his taste. Either way, I will miss JoongKi if he chooses not to call me anymore.

I keep asking myself why I am getting attached to this one caller. A 'no-no' according to my training. Under no circumstances are we to get involved or familiar with a client. I have broken that rule. I have gotten familiar with JoongKi. I have gotten friendly with JoongKi. I have gotten used to JoongKi's calls. Not good, not good at all. A newbie mistake we were warned against.

I turn to my drawing board and work on my newest manga. I am so engrossed in my drawing that I almost missed my call from the company operator.

"JoongKi on the line, will you accept the call," she asks.

I pause for a moment, mentally giving myself another pep talk about not getting too close to our clients. Too late, in this case, I want to talk to JoongKi.

"Sure, give me a few seconds and transfer him," I reply. I put my manga stuff away and settle on my bed to chat with the one I had waiting for. Not good, not a profitable feeling towards a client.

"Soo Min, hello."

"Hello JoongKi, how are you?"

"I thought you might be otherwise engaged but I decided to take a chance you're available to talk."

"Well, I was about to sign off for the evening, so you're just in time." So, I told a little fib, sue me.

"I'm glad. Do you get a lot of calls after hours?"

"No, not really. After hour calls are reserved for VIP customers only."

"VIP? What does that mean?"

"If you and I agree, I can designate you as a VIP client. It means you can call me after hours. I give you a different number to call once you agree to the upgrade. Of course, for the sake of transparency, I must tell you that VIP clients pay twice the regular rate."

"Twice? That's a lot."

"I know. I advise my clients to call during the regular hours, so they don't get charged double the rate."

"Does that mean you have a lot of VIP clients," he asked?

"No, I don't have any."

"Oh! As VIP I can call you after hours anytime I want?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I want to be your VIP. What do I need to do?"

"I put one of my coworkers on the line and you confirm that you want to be a VIP. She acts as a witness to your request and she gives you a designated number for your use alone. That's it. Are you sure, JoongKi?"

"I'm sure. Besides, it is only for the times I want to talk to you off-hours. I usually call you when you're online."

"Okay hold on while we get you set up."

A few minutes later, JoongKi has his number as my VIP and can reach me anytime. Why am I excited? Am I that desperate for another best friend? Another male one at that?

"You're all set. When you want to reach me after hours call the number you have, and we'll talk. So why the late call?"

"Almost forgot. The reason I hadn't call you this week. I have been visiting a lot of soccer leagues. None seemed right. I visited over a dozen teams. I just didn't gel with them. I finally learned of Expat Soccer-Football Teams and I sent a request to visit and hopefully join as a coach. I mean they may not need coaches but there's no harm in trying, right?"

"Right! Why don't you want to try as a player? You're knowledgeable about the game and sound like you can still play."

"I've been warned not to play. If I injure that foot again, it might affect my ability to walk."

"Wow! That bad?" I felt bad for him. The way he talks about soccer, I can tell he loves the sport. And not able to play must be excruciating for him.

"Yes, that bad. They do say those who can't do teach, I am ready to teach. I'll still be part of the sport anyway."

"When do you hear back from the teams?"

"Maybe next week. I'll have more to tell you. So how was your day."

"A little quiet for me, but you've livened things up a bit. Ah! Before I forget, you may not be able to reach me through the normal phone line in the next six weeks."

"Why?" he asks sounding suspicious.

"Em, I have a course training that I must attend in Tokyo, Japan. It is mandatory. Remember I'm a college student and this course is required for me to graduate." Oops! Another lie.

"Okay. I guess I'll have to wait six weeks to let you know what happens with the league."

"You can call me using your VIP designated line, you know. That's one of the perks of being a VIP."

"Great. I'll call you at night. I want you to concentrate on your classes."

"That's so considerate." Just like someone, I used to know.

"That's me, Mr. Considerate. Well, good night."

"Goodnight JoongKi."

The life of a fake person. Lies! Why does lying to JoongKi hurt? He's just a customer for Chrissakes, I remind myself. In a huff, I turn off my lights, sink deep under my covers, and fall asleep.

                                        ― ☾ ―

I am settled in my loft now and I love it. The freedom, escape from a stifling father, and pride of ownership are feelings that bombarded me ever since I moved in. I am now packing for my trip to Japan. I place a call to my father's caretaker as I get into the taxi to take me to the airport.

"Ajumma, you have my number? You can reach me anytime. I left enough cash and a credit card for purchases while I'm gone."

"We'll be fine, Namsoon. Just enjoy yourself and we'll see you in six weeks."

"I'm going to a training Ajumma, not a vacation."

"True. But you're traveling Japan, take the time to sightsee or something."

"We'll see. Okay bye." I hung up the phone.

Ajumma has been a Godsend. She handles my father beautifully. Any tantrum or attitude he displays, she deflates it perfectly. He now realizes that Ajumma is there to stay and there's nothing he can do about it.

I made enough money to pay for a six-week intense manga and anime drawing training classes in Japan. Manga University offers a course in perfecting your manga and anime drawings. It is very expensive but worth it according to KangJoo. I paid for the whole package: tuition, room and board, one on one training with some published manga authors.

I settle in my first-class seat for the almost two-hour flight to Tokyo. I pinch myself as I sink into the luxurious first-class seat. Who would've believed it? That yours truly can afford first-class airline ticket and manga training. I'm so excited, I can barely sit still. I am so anxious to see KangJoo and eager for my training. Six long ass weeks. I wonder what Tokyo looks like. Duh! I mentally hit myself upside the head. It's like any other metropolitan city only with people who look different and speak a different language.

The flight was smooth, the service was A-plus. My only regret was that it's wasn't a long flight. The stewardesses are perfection on heels. Japanese women are beautiful. I adore the combination of reverence and strength they bestow on everyone they come across. The flight ended too soon. I pull my overhead bag and head out to meet KangJoo.

I get to the end of the walkway and make my way through security. Narita Airport is big, clean, and efficient. A few tries in communication since I don't speak Japanese and the airport employee doesn't speak Korean, I was directed to the area where I could meet KangJoo. I get there and slowly start to look for a short Korean fireball.

"Go Namsoon!" I turn to see KangJoo standing a few feet with a name sign? I walk up to her and give her a big hug. I have missed this fireball. Talking on the phone is just not the same as being here with her.

"I thought signs are for people who are here to pick up strangers. I couldn't have changed that much?"

"Silly, I just want you to experience every tiny detail of airline travel. It is your first time flying so I am rolling out the red carpet, Go Namsoon."

"Thank you, Lee KangJoo," I tease back.

"I want you to meet someone."

She turns to a gorgeous Japanese woman standing patiently by her side. She's in her late twenties, black glossy shoulder-length hair with bangs. She has black piercing eyes that land on me, pointed nose, and thin mauve lips. She's dressed to perfection. She's exotic.

"Is this...?"

"Yes. Go Namsoon, I'll like you to meet my wife, Misaki Kadokura."