The Wedding Invitation and a Memory Rekindled
The moment I took the invitation from Yejin's hand, my heart lurched violently.
Rage, hollow exhaustion, and some unnameable emptiness all crashed over me at once. I stared down at the invitation for a long moment before I finally spoke.
"Incredible, really. Handing me something like this."
Yejin hesitated for a beat, then nodded.
"It's not like there's anything I can't give you."
Her eyes were as sharp as ever. I knew exactly what that look meant. Resentment — the kind that said, the day I met you...
And something else besides. The unmistakable pride of someone who believed she had begun a new life.
"Fine. Live well. I'll be living better."
"......."
Perhaps the weight of everyone's stares grew too much to bear, because Yejin returned to her seat without another word. Everyone gathered here knew the story of our marriage and our divorce. I felt like the lead in some trashy melodrama.
Youngsoo leaned over and whispered.
"Hey... you doing okay?"
I smacked him on the mouth.
"This mouth of yours. This goddamn mouth. Why'd you have to go and tell her I own the building?"
"What? I was just trying to let her know you're doing well for yourself..."
"Yeah, thanks a lot."
And that was when it happened.
The door slid open with a soft rasp, and someone stepped inside. The moment Youngsoo saw who it was, he shot to his feet.
"Well, if it isn't the one and only!"
"Hohoho. Everyone's been well, I hope?"
It was the actress Song Hae-in — the woman they called Korea's National Actress. My senior by three years at school, though her acting career had kept her in the club long enough that she'd actually graduated after I did.
"Everyone, your attention please. Founding member and first-generation alumna Song Hae-in senior has arrived!"
"Whaaat! No way, is that really her?"
"Hae-in!"
"Hae-in unni!"
Seniors and juniors alike sprang up from their seats and swarmed toward her. Thankfully, the attention on me melted away into the crowd.
"Unni, it's been so long!"
"How do you keep getting younger?"
"I loved your latest film!"
"Oh my — Hae-jung! Seorin! It's been ages!"
The women traded banter back and forth, and the drinking carried on late into the evening.
"So Yejin's getting married? Again?"
"Yes. That's how it is."
"Then what about Dong-su?"
I felt their eyes drift toward me. My name had come up among them, and Yejin would hardly have said much about me — certainly not that she'd ended things because she'd been having an affair.
An hour or so slipped by. Then Song Hae-in — flushed and tipsy on soju, or rather, my senior — came drifting over with a soju glass in hand. The glass was empty, and her face had already gone deep red.
"Sooo... Yejin's getting married again, huh?"
She staggered into the seat beside me and narrowed her eyes at me.
I glanced down at the invitation, then lifted my head.
"Yes. That's how it worked out."
Song Hae-in let out a soft snort and held out her glass.
"And what about you, Dong-su? What are you doing with your life?"
For an instant, the question stole the air from my lungs. The noise of the banquet hall faded into the distance, and only her voice rang loud and clear. I accepted the glass slowly before answering.
"Oh, you know. Just working at a company, living my life."
A short answer. I wasn't in the mood for anything more.
Song Hae-in looked me dead in the eye — then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! Well, as long as you're alive, that's what counts. What is life anyway?"
"Exactly. Not much, that's what."
"Life is, well... it's all a play, you know."
At her words, the old practice room of Theater Lab flashed through my mind. The smell of sweat and dust, and the way we'd all looked at each other from the stage.
Youngsoo hollered from beside us.
"Ooh! Life is a play! Senior, that was a magnificent line!"
Laughter rippled through the room as people clinked their glasses together, and the banquet hall warmed up again.
"Dong-su, you were always so passionate about acting... I couldn't believe it when I heard you'd become a banker."
Song Hae-in never moved back to her own seat. There were plenty of empty chairs available, too.
Were we actually this close back then?
I was lost in the memory when—
"Ah! Khk khk."
Song Hae-in's eyes went wide with surprise.
"What's so funny?"
I set down my soju glass and worked my mouth a little as the old memory surfaced.
"It just came back to me. Our year-end performance — remember Othello? When you played Desdemona, senior."
Song Hae-in narrowed her eyes and nodded slowly.
"...Yeah, I remember. Why, all of a sudden?"
I tapped my fingers against the table, letting the grin creep in as I continued.
"I was in charge of props back then, remember? And you'd gone drinking the night before and lost your wig, so I had to curl your hair with a flat iron for you. That was actually the first time in my life I'd ever touched one."
Song Hae-in blinked, staring at me.
"Th-that... happened?"
I couldn't hold back the laugh. I nodded.
"You don't remember? Your hair got so singed you had to chop it all off into a bob the next day!"
Only then did it seem to click. She clapped her palms together.
"Oh, right! That did happen. I nearly killed you over it..."
I waved my hands, laughing harder now.
"I'm pretty sure I apologized plenty that day, though."
Song Hae-in snorted and raised her glass.
"Just kidding, just kidding. Hoho."
In that moment, something wordless passed between the two of us. Amid the flushed faces and peals of laughter, the old memories of Theater Lab seemed to come back to life.
Fifteen years ago.
A shabby basement practice room. In the bustle of club juniors darting about before showtime, Song Hae-in stood before a mirror in her Desdemona costume. Her hair was supposed to be topped with a wig — but the wig had vanished somewhere.
"What do I do... I'm on stage any minute."
Urgency bled through her voice. Then Kim Dong-su, the props manager, came running up with a flat iron in hand.
"Senior, I'll do it for you. I couldn't find the wig, but... I can just curl your hair, right?"
The truth was, it was the first time in his life he'd ever held a flat iron. His fingertips were clumsy, and the heat ran far too strong. When the acrid smell of burning hair filled the air, Song Hae-in recoiled and glared at him.
"Hey! You've burned off half my hair!"
Dong-su broke into a cold sweat, apologizing over and over.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Senior, I swear it wasn't on purpose."
"Uuuugh..."
In the end, she had to cut her hair short the very next day. The incident became a running joke for years afterward — and yet, strangely enough, from that day on, the way Song Hae-in looked at Dong-su changed. A gaze that seemed irritated on the surface, and yet somehow warm underneath.
She had already known, deep down. She knew she liked Kim Dong-su.
But not long after, she heard news that stunned her: Dong-su had started dating Choi Yejin, a junior from the same club.
"......."
Song Hae-in let the feeling go. She'd already signed with an entertainment agency, after all.
"Right... a girl like me, chasing what? Love is a luxury."
So she buried the feelings of a twenty-four-year-old. Alongside the passion that shone only on the stage, she sealed that heart away in the deepest dark.
Time flowed on, and Song Hae-in became the National Actress. And then, someone said it — offhandedly, carelessly.
"Dong-su and Yejin... they got divorced, you know."
In that instant, something flickered in Song Hae-in's eyes. Emotions long buried seemed to stir and bloom once more.
Flushed with drink, she had taken the seat beside Dong-su and kept pouring glass after glass, unlike her usual self. She set her glass down and looked at him straight on.
As though time itself had reversed, there in her eyes reflected on the rim of the soju glass lived the Song Hae-in of twenty-four — the moment her hair burned away behind the stage, and that clumsy fool fumbling, not knowing what to do with himself before her.
The confession she had hidden so deep she never once spoke it aloud. The memories she had always believed belonged to her alone grew clearer and clearer by the second.
Song Hae-in murmured to herself, inside her heart.
Maybe this time... I won't let the chance slip away.