Power & Sex, and... 03
Any young woman Ara's age would be thrilled to meet an idol singer. In the end, I called the idol in question, Suji, and asked if it was okay to bring my wife along. She readily agreed, so I drove to Gwangalli. Ara was buzzing with excitement at the thought of meeting an idol singer, practically bouncing in her seat.
Opening the door to the coffee shop where Suji was waiting, I spotted her wearing dark sunglasses to hide her identity—probably to avoid drawing too much attention. I seated Ara first, asked what they wanted, and went to the counter to order the coffees.
"You're the assemblyman's wife, right? I'm Suji."
"Yes. Nice to meet you. I'm a big fan of yours."
"Oh, really? Thank you so much."
"By the way, would it be okay if I called some friends? They love you too."
"Sure, that's fine with me."
Ara was still very much a young woman who got starry-eyed over idols. After chatting with Suji for a while, she apparently wanted more and asked if it was okay to invite her friends. Suji happily agreed.
Hearing that, Ara started calling her friends. After furiously tapping away at her phone for a bit, she turned her full attention to Suji, bombarding her with questions—I almost felt bad for her. But Suji, having dealt with this kind of fan enthusiasm countless times before, answered calmly without a hint of fatigue.
"So, when did you start singing?"
"I joined the agency in my first year of middle school and debuted last year."
"Where are you from?"
"My dad's from Jeongeup, but I was born and raised in LA. I entered a K-pop contest in middle school, caught the CEO's eye, and became a trainee."
"You must miss your mom a lot."
"These days, I video call her and Dad whenever I have time. They visited Seoul last spring too."
"Ah, I see."
Ara's questions and Suji's replies continued for a while as Ara's friends began trickling in one by one, some with their boyfriends in tow.
Ara's friends' boyfriends, unlike before, bowed politely and addressed me as "Assemblyman." Honestly, it felt awkward being called that by them too, so I asked them to treat me like they used to and drop the formal title.
"Assemblyman, long time no see."
"Aigoo, no need for that here. This is just a casual get-together."
"Still, you're a congressman now."
"I'm just Ara's husband, nothing more."
"Got it. And this is Suji?"
"Hi, I'm Suji."
"You're even prettier in person than on TV."
"Thank you."
After greeting me, Ara's friends' boyfriends couldn't help stealing glances at Suji, completely entranced. If Ara's friends weren't such huge fans of hers, there might have been trouble, but they were too busy chatting with Suji to notice their boyfriends' mesmerized stares.
"We helped with the election last time but never got to properly thank you."
"Brother, you called me after winning—what are you talking about?"
"Still, I should've treated you to a meal. Sorry about that."
"We should've been the ones treating you. How's life in Seoul?"
"I'm still clueless, just getting dragged around. Once I get my bearings, I'll invite you to the National Assembly."
"That'd be an honor."
In truth, not just Ara's friends but their boyfriends too had been incredibly active in supporting my campaign. But after winning, I'd been pulled into endless local events and could only thank them over the phone before heading to Seoul. I'd always felt bad about it. If it weren't for this singer today, I was planning to meet them separately tomorrow or Monday for a meal—turns out this worked out perfectly.
"Honey, why didn't you call Jeong-ah?"
"Wouldn't it be better to see her separately later?"
"No, we can't do that. Jeong-ah was the MVP in getting you elected."
"Fine, you call her then."
Ara called Jeong-ah, who showed up at Gwangalli and immediately phoned a few SNS team members, who joined us too. After quick greetings with me, Jeong-ah and her SNS crew were busy snapping photos, occasionally live-tweeting the coffee shop vibe. Thanks to Suji, my Twitter account—managed by Jeong-ah—was getting endless retweets. Soon, Jeong-ah showed me the portal site's real-time trends: my name and Suji's were climbing the ranks. Ara's little scheme had hit the mark.
We'd been occupying the coffee shop too long, so I suggested moving. I told everyone about "Friend," a cozy karaoke bar in Namcheon-dong I felt comfortable at, and we split into cars to head there. Just in case it was crowded, I called the owner ahead to reserve.
Stepping into "Friend," a sudden fanfare blasted through the hall.
"Is one of our guests having a birthday?"
"Assemblyman, welcome! It's an honor."
"Aigoo, owner, what are you saying?"
"Right this way. Huh?"
The owner, guiding us to our seats, froze mid-sentence with a gasp.
"What's wrong, boss?"
"Isn't that young lady Suji from SJ Entertainment?"
"Yes, that's right. Why?"
"How's a top idol ending up in our little place?"
"She's with our group. Suji, say hi—this is the owner."
"Hello, I'm Suji."
"Nice to meet you. Welcome."
"Suddenly I'm chopped liver thanks to Suji."
"It's not that, Assemblyman—just such an unexpected guest."
"Ah, I was kidding."
In the end, that night turned into a celebration of my election win and Suji's visit, with the owner insisting on footing the bill. We sang and had a blast without a care. The owner, Jeong-ah, and the SNS team were snapping photos nonstop, and at one point, the owner's brother—who'd been playing accompaniment—jumped in to back Suji's singing. The existing customers scrapped their plans to leave, and the owner locked the doors for business. No room for more anyway.
As the night grew late and it was time to head home, the heated atmosphere made parting hard. In the end, Ara's friends' boyfriends stepped up, and we moved to quieter Songjeong Beach to pull an all-nighter by the shore. I'd stayed up all night there with friends back in school, but never imagined it'd happen again in adult life. Couldn't ignore their eager pleas. It wasn't a heavy drinking session anyway—no one was wasted—so we called designated drivers and headed to Songjeong.
We unpacked mats from the cars, grabbed beers and snacks from a convenience store, and let the night deepen. Sitting in a relaxed circle by the sea, whispering stories face-to-face, one of Ara's friends' boyfriends somehow procured a guitar, and we sang along as the hours passed.
"Sorry, but bonfires are prohibited on Songjeong Beach."
A cop approached while we were having a great time.
"Ah, really? Sorry about that. We'll put it out right away."
"Whoa, Assemblyman—even campfires off-limits with your connections?"
"Hold on. Being an assemblyman doesn't mean breaking the law."
"But if it's you?"
"Yes, terribly sorry. I'm Park Maru, assemblyman for Busan Jin-gap. I didn't know—please forgive me."
"Ah, sure. It happens sometimes. Since you're a congressman, just clean up properly to avoid any fire risk, and you're good."
"No, if it's the rule, even I as an assemblyman shouldn't break it. My apologies."
After the cop left, I convinced the group to douse the fire, grabbed shovels from the cars, piled up the wood and coals, bagged them, and loaded the trunks. I called a nearby minbak with lights on, rented three rooms, and herded everyone there. I guided the women, including Ara, to their room; tucked the tipsy boyfriends into theirs; and the night owls gathered in one room to chat till dawn. As dawn broke and fatigue claimed them one by one, I led the women to the big room and slipped out of the minbak.
"Thanks for your hard work."
"Whoa! Assemblyman Park Maru—what brings you here?"
The beach cop from earlier recognized me and jumped in surprise.
"Yes, I came to apologize properly for my mistake earlier."
"Aigoo, no need for you to come all this way for that. Have a seat."
He brought coffee as I sat, and soon the station chief burst in.
"Sir! Station Chief Inspector Han Seong-gwan reporting."
"No need for formalities, Chief. I came to apologize for my blunder earlier."
"Apologize? It's nothing—happens all the time."
"Still, sorry to trouble you."
"If more VIPs like you were around, us beat cops would have it easy. It's an honor you came by."
"I hope you understand my mistake. I didn't know the rules, but either way, I caused hassle for officers working the night shift."
"All good—that's our job."
After a brief chat with the chief, I handed him an envelope for the team's morning hangover remedy and left the station. As I stepped out, the red sun was already rising over the sea ahead.