I sat on the wooden floor of the living room, fully recharged from the gym and steak, when a sudden, cold lightning bolt of panic struck straight through my spine.
Lee Sora.
My hand flew to my pocket, pulling out my phone. I had completely forgotten to reply to her.
'Aish,' I groaned internally, staring at the screen. "Can I really blame this on bad island connectivity?" I shook my head. 'No, technology had advanced way too much to pull a cheap excuse like "no signal" on a modern Korean telecom network, even down in Jeju.'
I took a deep, nervous breath and opened KakaoTalk.
What met my eyes was a terrifying progression of notifications. I had 15 unread messages from Sora, starting from early yesterday morning and spiraling downward in real-time:
Sora [Yesterday, 8:15 AM]: Good morning, oppa! Did you land safely?
...
Sora [Yesterday, 1:40 PM]: What are you doing? Is Kimjang hard?
...
...
Sora [Yesterday, 6:05 PM]: Why are you not answering?
...
...
...
Sora [Yesterday, 11:12 PM]: Did I do something wrong on Friday night?
I stared at the screen, a bizarre mix of embarrassment, guilt, and profound awkwardness washing over my face. I looked like an absolute criminal. Realizing that typing a long text essay would only make me look more guilty, I pressed the call button and raised the phone to my ear.
Ring... ring...
"Yeoboseyo?" Sora's voice answered on the third ring.
It was an instantly, suffocatingly awkward conversation. Her tone wasn't her usual bright, camera-ready idol register—it was cold, clipped, and heavy with audible frustration. It was the absolute first time I had ever heard her sound genuinely angry with me.
"Sora-ah... hey," I stammered, my four years of Korean vocabulary crumbling into dust. "I'm so sorry. Yesterday... yesterday I was just extremely tired from all the work and traveling, and I... I just didn't really feel like talking."
Silence.
Dead, icy silence over the speaker.
"Didn't... feel like talking?" Sora repeated slowly, her voice dropping an octave into a razor-sharp edge.
'Blyat,' my brain blue-screened.
My nuance was bad! My Ukrainian bluntness just detonated a tactical nuke!
"Okay. I got it," Sora said, her tone completely flat. "I gotta go now. Have a nice day then."
"Wait, Sora, I meant—"
CLICK.
The call disconnected.
I stood there staring at the dark screen, my jaw hanging open in sheer disbelief.
"AISH!!!'
I viggled in my bed, my arms and legs flying in all directions as I expressed my frustration.
A soft, malicious giggle echoed from the corner of the room.
I snapped my head around. Ha-neul was sitting on her floor cushion, looking thoroughly refreshed and rested. Her glasses were perfectly straight, a crisp cheezy stick held between her fingers, and a massive, delighted smirk on her face. She had heard every single word of my romantic disaster.
"Ah," Ha-neul giggled, adjusting her frames. "I finally see why you've never had a girlfriend before, Mountain."
"Shut up," I grunted, dropping onto the floor mat and covering my face with my hands.
Ha-neul let out a loud scoff, taking a loud, crunchy bite of her carrot.
"Who on earth says 'I didn't feel like talking' to his girlfriend?! Are you two even really dating? Did you seriously just ghost her for an entire day while hanging out on an island?"
"Do you think I did it on purpose?!" I defended, my face burning.
Ha-neul leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning my miserable expression.
"Do you even actually care about her?"
"Yes! I definitely do!" I blurted out, sitting up straight. "We even went on a proper date the day before yesterday!"
"Hm, I see," Ha-neul hummed, tapping her chin with her carrot. "Then here is my official advice—both as your foster sister and just as a girl: you need to send her a sincere text apology immediately, and you need to prepare a proper present for her. Something thoughtful."
I sighed, slumping my shoulders.
"Okay, dongsaeng."
Ha-neul instantly rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck in the back of her head.
"Your Korean address terms should have gotten better by now, I thought. I am your nuna in terms of household hierarchy, Representative."
She stood up, brushing off her blanket, and switched smoothly into vice-president command mode.
"Anyways, the reason why I came... Jun-seo just messaged me. He says he's arriving at the main Jeju ferry terminal around 1:00 PM, so we have about an hour and a half. Get ready by then. We're taking a local bus into the city center to hang out with him. Mom and Dad will take our heavy bags back in the rental car, so you can just leave your backpack here."
I nodded, pulling out my phone to craft a long, deeply apologetic message to Sora.
'Pizdec,' how complicated and tiring relationships can be at times, I complained internally, rubbing my throbbing temples. 'My head actually hurts. A present? What should I even buy an idol trainee? Hm... maybe some authentic local souvenir from Jeju? A basalt stone carved figures or specialized citrus sweets? That's actually a great idea.'
I checked my internal schedule. I had about ninety minutes before the city bus.
Okay, what should I do before we depart?
I definitely need to say a proper goodbye and give a massive thank-you to Grandfather Kim and Grandma Lee. I had an amazingly good time here; the food and the hospitality were incredible.
I need to phone my own real grandmother back in Ukraine. It's been way too long since I heard her voice, I realized, and she's probably worrying if I've eaten enough potatoes.
I stood up, taking a step toward the hallway to find my host grandparents—
RUMBLE.
A sudden, violent, earthquake-level tremor detonated deep inside my gut.
"Damn it. That sibal fresh which Ji-hoon bought..."
My eyes went wide. My knees buckled slightly. The chaotic, lethal combination of green celery slime juice, heavy aged steak, seven rounds of soju, and three pounds of spicy Kimjang cabbage caught up to my digestive system all at once.
My soul abandoned all noble plans.
The grandmothers and the phone calls would have to wait.
BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE... THE TOILET!
I spun on my heel and sprinted down the hallway like an Olympic track star, slamming the bathroom door shut just in the nick of time.