This Is Our First Time Doing This, Right?
I park the car in the alley in front of the rental apartment complex. Ayoung is coming out. She takes a few steps, then stops, lowers her head to look at her outfit, and starts walking again. She's not in her usual clothes—it's a dress. The long fabric down to her ankles clings and releases from her legs with each step. Her waist, always hidden under baggy t-shirts and jeans, is fully revealed. She's hugging her arms around her forearms, head down. She'd dressed herself like this but was embarrassed about it.
I roll down the window.
"What brings you here?"
"Well, that outfit... they were having a sale."
A woman who always grabbed whatever clothes cheaply—picking something like this from a sale? Ayoung's eyes flick toward me, then drop down. She knows it doesn't make sense even as she says it, fumbling awkwardly.
"Is it... because of me, by any chance?"
"...Yeah."
Her ears turn red to the tips as she hesitates, head still bowed, and asks me softly.
"D-Do I look... weird?"
I open the passenger door and place a hand on her back.
"No. I like it."
"...Yeah. Thanks."
A woman who'd lived only for her son was now buying clothes and doing makeup to look good for a man. I couldn't stop smiling at the change. I let Ayoung in and we head off.
"What about Woochan?"
"He's sleeping."
"You snuck out?"
"Yeah..."
"So when do you plan to get back?"
"...Before he wakes up?"
"Getting pretty bold, aren't you?"
Ayoung avoids my gaze, pretending to change the subject.
"Where are we going today?"
"Dunno. Just wanted to see you, so I called."
Ayoung turns her head back.
"I... I wanted to see—"
"What?"
"No, nothing."
She shakes her head vigorously, cupping her cheeks with her hands.
"Anything you want to do?"
"...Dunno."
"You like movies, Ayoung?"
"...Movies?"
"Let's go to the movies."
"Yeah, sounds good."
Her answer is soft, but her head nods eagerly. I don't particularly like movies. Sitting for two hours in a crowded place is a hassle. I've only used it as a date course for girls.
"When's the last time you saw one?"
"...I... can't really remember."
Ayoung pauses, thinking, then says.
"Before Woochan was born."
Her expression darkens briefly.
"Never with a guy, right?"
"Yeah."
"So this is your first with me?"
"..."
Instead of answering, her head droops.
I park in the theater basement and we take the elevator. Even late at night, it's fairly crowded. Mostly couples, two by two. Ayoung's gaze brushes over the pairs standing side by side, then drops to the floor. More people squeeze in with every stop. Ayoung gets pushed to a corner. I turn toward her, bracing one arm against the wall. Someone bumps into my back, but it doesn't reach her. Ayoung stares only at my chest. She can't lift her head amid the stares around us, but the smile on her flushed face is unmistakable.
The doors open, and people pour out.
"Pretty crowded."
"Yeah."
Ayoung tries to stick behind me. I grab her arm and pull her to my side.
"Why do you keep hiding behind?"
"...Sorry."
We stand in front of the showtimes. Ayoung looks up at the list beside me.
"Anything you like?"
"...I don't know much."
She claims not to, but her eyes scan every poster.
"This one's been popular lately. Let's do it."
Ayoung nods right away, like anything's fine.
When picking seats, there's couple seating—two recliners side by side.
"How about this?"
"C-Couple...?"
"Don't like it?"
"No."
We grab popcorn and enter the auditorium. It's dark. Late show, so less than half full. We find our seats—recliners where two can lie side by side, armrests touching without barriers. Ayoung stands frozen in front of it.
"Sit already. It's starting."
She hesitates, then lies down beside me. I pull her shoulder closer and drape the blanket I brought over us. Her ear is hot against my chest. The movie starts, but I doubt she can focus. Lights out. The screen glows, splitting the theater into shadows and colors. Ayoung gazes up at it from my arms. The weight on my shoulder eases bit by bit. She's relaxing.
After the opening, the main story begins, and Ayoung's eyes glue to the screen. She follows it without blinking, mouth slightly open. Light sweeps across her face with every scene change—blue, orange, white. Her pupils shift colors each time. It's the face of someone who loves movies. Experiencing something she hasn't in so long. I look down at her more than the screen.
Ayoung always has faint shadows under her eyes. But now, they're sparkling as she concentrates. When she was much younger, before becoming a single mom, before getting pregnant—did her face look like this back when she loved someone and dreamed?
Her hair falls over her cheek. I brush it behind her ear. She looks up. Our eyes meet in the dark. Hers waver. Her gaze drops to my lips, then darts away. She reaches into the popcorn, pops one in her mouth. Tries to watch the screen, but her eyes keep drifting. Glances at me, back to screen, glance again. She's aware. My arm rests on her waist, our body heat mingling under the blanket. I silently brush her hair again. My fingers graze the back of her earlobe. Her breath hitches.
"...Um... are you... d-doing this 'cause you wanna... do it?"
Her whisper is tense, eyes wide in the dark. I chuckle softly. I lean to her ear.
"We're on a movie date. Focus on the screen."
My breath brushes her ear. Her shoulder twitches.
"...Sorry."
She turns back to the screen. Her ear glows even in the dark. I wrap my arm around her waist, stroking her back slowly. Patting, soothing. Tension drains from her body. Her back leans into me. Shoulder against my chest, head under my arm. Under the blanket, her hand moves. Grabs my shirt hem, releases, then holds still.
Scenes flow on screen. Honestly, the plot doesn't register. Ayoung's sweet scent, the warmth under the blanket, the subtle rise and fall of her back with each breath—they're closer than the movie. I used to mock it as cheap, but now it's so familiar. Ayoung stays in my arms until the end. Credits roll, lights come up. She stirs, face oddly flushed.
"Good?"
"Yeah... it was fun."
Her voice is husky with shyness.
"Come again next time?"
"...If you like."
I stand first, offer my hand. She takes it and rises. On the way to the parking lot, she presses to my side naturally. We look more like a real couple now. In the car, she leans back and exhales long. The theater air lingers—popcorn scent, blanket warmth. I start the engine and drive. Roads empty. Past midnight, just blinking signals. Ayoung watches out the window. Streetlights sweep over her face.
"...It was fun."
She says it again, though she already did. Shyness gone, voice quietly happy. Silence falls. Only the low engine hum. Trees flash by. Across the center console, her hand rests on her knee—close yet far. The rental apartments come into view. I park. Ayoung grips the door handle.
"...It's so late. Maybe stay over...?"
"What about Woochan?"
"Oh..."
Her face says she forgot her son existed.
"Date again tomorrow."
She nods cautiously.
"Then head in safe."
"Yeah. You too."
I lean out the window. She glances around, confirms no one's watching, and brings her face close. Soft, warm lips touch. I think it'll be brief, but her mouth opens, tongue slipping in. Slowly, carefully seeking mine. Faint salty popcorn mixes in. She pulls back, breathing ragged.
"...G-Gotta go."
Hiding her flushed face, she hurries into the complex. Her receding figure, dress hem swaying at her ankles. My lips curve up unwittingly. Sometimes, this isn't bad.
The next day. I poke Yejin's back with a finger from the front seat.
"Eek."
She makes another weird noise and turns. Freckled face looks up at me timidly.
"Recording okay?"
Yejin glances around, nods once sure no one's listening.
"Kids giving you anything weird?"
"Uh... um... not yet?"
"Don't eat whatever they give you."
"...I won't."
"Won't what?"
A thin designer bracelet dangles from Yejin's wrist.
"They gave you that, huh. Cheap knockoff."
"Ah... it's... not that cheap..."
"Made in China, just slapped with a brand label."
She pouts, covering her wrist with her other hand.
"Don't take that crap so eagerly."
"...Got it."
"Things going well with Woochan?"
"Hic... th-that's..."
Her ears redden. Eyes dart behind glasses. Woochan whined for a while that Yejin wasn't answering. She said the kids hate it when she checks her phone around them. I told her to use me as an excuse so she'd pick up. Seems they're talking now. Can't make them date, but it looks promising from her reaction.
"What about gosi class?"
"Well... gosi's just odds, this is connections..."
"They won't see you as an equal."
Yejin sulks. Pushes up her glasses, lips moving, but no words.
"Just do what I say. I'll take care of you for real."
Her eyes waver skeptically.
"Don't you see it with Woochan?"
Finally, she nods. I pull a paper bag from my backpack and set it on her desk.
"Wh-?"
"Take this from now on."
Yejin opens it. Eyes widen at the designer bag inside.
"Th-This... that... thing..."
Her gaze behind glasses shakes in disbelief. I look at her pitifully.
"Say it's a gift."
"Yeah."
She hugs the bag tight, turns forward. Honestly, I don't expect much from her recordings. Inside, I'd planted military-grade bugs and cameras from Grandpa's company. Tracks where she goes, what she does—full video. Remote access would be nice, but comms gear trips detectors, so this'll do. Of course, I didn't tell her. She'd blow it if she knew—better she thinks it's just a gift.