Dress Code
"Grandpas!"
"Hello, directors!"
Mom and I held hands as we entered the staff area. The directors waved and greeted me warmly.
We didn't need to book our own accommodations. The Parasite staff had taken care of it. It wasn't some ultra-luxury five-star hotel, but it wasn't rundown either. Just the right kind of place, I suppose.
I quietly spoke to the grandpas. I didn't have confidence in enduring economy class on the flight home either. Spending dozens of hours on a plane without a phone was pure hell. Sure, you could sleep, but even that had its limits. After eight hours of deep sleep, you'd still have over ten hours left. Flights like that were shocking.
People say it's natural since you're flying to the opposite side of the world, but...
"Grandpa Seongmin!"
"Yes? What's up, Sora?"
"Could you upgrade the seats on the flight back for me and Mom? We'll pay for it!"
Grandpa Seongmin's face lit up with realization.
"Sora... don't tell me you flew economy here?"
I nodded. He smacked his forehead.
"I'm sorry, Sora. I should have checked... This old man needs to chew out the staff. How could they book narrow seats for you on a plane?"
I jumped in surprise. It felt wrong to scold them over something like this.
"Grandpa! No need to scold anyone! Just look after us for the flight home!"
"Heh heh... Sora, you're such a good kid."
As he patted my head, I felt relieved that the return trip would at least be better. Economy class home would have been hell too. And he said it'd be free. No need for any scolding at all. We'd flown here for free anyway. There are people who'd drink sewage if it was free... Plane tickets to France weren't cheap.
With that confirmation, Mom and I headed up to the hotel.
The Cannes Film Festival hadn't started yet. We planned to tour the city together.
They'd booked us a room. Spacious enough. Just one bed, but it was king-sized, so no issue.
Mom unpacked, beaming.
"Hee hee hee, Sora! How do I look?"
In that short time, she'd changed clothes like magic. Full tourist outfit.
I looked at her. "You look pretty, Mom."
"Really? Yay~"
"Eek!"
I let out a weird squeal as she pulled me into her arms. Mom was still only 28. In my old era, that was rookie age—fresh out of school, new hire territory. It suited her perfectly.
I changed too. Nothing blingy. Clean, simple colors.
Mom pouted at my outfit. "Sora...! There are so many pretty clothes...!"
"Hmph!"
I ignored her pleading. I'd yielded too much already. The more I gave in, the blingier it got. I had to push back sometimes. Mom had a tendency to go overboard.
"Sora, let's go!"
"Okay!"
I took her hand and stepped out of the hotel.
I'd heard the warnings for European travel. Watch for pickpockets... Never wander at night. Be wary of strangers... It really drove home how safe Korea was.
France was advanced enough to be called developed. But not tourist-friendly. I'd seen videos capturing the real Europe. YouTube Shorts showing phones snatched the second you left them on a cafe table. In Korea, they'd sit for hours untouched. In Europe, gone in one or two minutes. One reason Korea's security felt unbeatable.
Of course, we had bike thieves galore. Why so many bike thieves, anyway?
Hand in hand, Mom and I wandered Cannes. My first Europe trip ever. Everything was new.
Healing vacation with Mom melted away my flight stress. A pleasant breeze blew in—salty sea air, but even that felt good.
I grinned, soaking in the fairy-tale houses and bustling foreigners. To avoid getting lost, I gripped Mom's hand tight, like a baby clutching her clothes.
"This is so great, Sora!"
"Me too!"
My mood was so high, childish words slipped out. I quickly regained composure.
We spent the night in Cannes like that, making memories everywhere. Dad's absence was a bit sad, but as he said, we had plenty of time. No hindrance to bonding.
Heck, even when I was 20, they'd be 40. Perfect travel age. By then, I'd have money stacked up. My business plans seemed solid—proven successes from my old world. Low failure risk.
Even if they flopped, I could open my mental library. Pay off debts easy. Sorry, but Nobel-winning foreign books? Plagiarize away. They didn't exist here! Plus, I'd read them in English—no translation worries. English was my strong suit.
Lit prizes needed genius translators. Not me—I knew the books already in English.
Back at the hotel with Mom.
I'd time-traveled, but no superhero powers. Robbers or thugs? I'd just hand over stuff and beg. Best avoid by staying in. No robber hits a guarded hotel full of guests.
But first trip with just Mom. Forgot how hyper she got.
"Waaah!"
I was trapped in her arms, limbs pinned.
She smirked wickedly, kneading my cheeks. "Who'd you get this cuteness from? Say Mom birthed you perfectly!"
"Mom birthed me perfectly!"
But she betrayed me. "Sora's too cute—I can't let go!"
"Ahh!"
I flailed on the bed. Couldn't escape her hug.
France really was livable. This climate and weather would make anyone want to stay.
But now I was in a dress. Staring at my reflection.
Never worn one before. As a guy, it'd scream psycho. As Sora, even blingy outfits skipped dresses.
Cannes was conservative, though. Strict dress code. Men in tuxes, women in dresses. No hip-hop vibes.
Not legally enforced. Some protested with wild outfits. But Koreans? We blend in. National trait.
So Mom and I donning dresses for Cannes was inevitable.
I lifted the skirt hem. Nothing under the panties. I sighed deeply.