INTERLUDE.

— AESTHETICS.

lipstick stains on a Diet Coke can, brass brushed hand mirrors, the echo of an empty theater, baby pink leg warmers, little white lies, long museum dates, empty wine bottles, showing up late with a large coffee, the lingering scent of Chanel No. 5, Greek tragedies, stacked gold jewelry, vintage designer handbags, book pages worn from multiple reads.

— RECENTLY PLAYED.

Amy Winehouse, Me And Mr. Jones.

Mitski, Drunk Walk Home.

Videoclub, Amour plastique.

Joep Beving, Sleeping Lotus.

Fiona Apple, Left Alone.

Hozier, Shrike.

Delibes, Coppelia: Act I - Ballade.

Tchaikovsky, The Sleeping Beauty, Op. 66, No. 4h - La fée de lilas.

— RELATIONSHIP TO GREER.

The roommates seemed like a duo from hell, both legacy students from Manhattan, daughters showered in privelege and beauty and secrets. Their fathers brushed shoulders at Manahattan dinner parties, and their mothers gossiped over brunch. They appeared to be friends since childhood, to anyone on the outside, or within their social circles, but there was always an emotional wall built between the two. Maybe because of the way Greer could never hide from Bella, never fully, and never her secrets, not even behind a locked door. Isabella was too observant, too aware, and all too keen on judging whoever came and went through suite 208. There was an arragement between the pair: as long as the space was respectful, clean, quiet in the mornings and calm in the evenings, the secrets would die on their way into the hallway. Bella knew she needed Greer, whether or not she liked the fact, and Greer knew she needed Bella, all the same.

— SKELETON TROPE.

Isabella ached an escape from her family name since she could remember, desparate for fame and a ballet career all of her own. Her mother’s family is known across South Korea, generations of wealth sparked by the country’s industrial revolution, and her father is known around New York City as an accountant for the elites. Their business deal of a marriage created their only daughter, their prized possession. Bella can admit she had it easy, best ballet academies and tutors to help with the endless missed school days, but she never planned to apply to Ogden, the way her father had, until a knee injury ended her dreams. A large donation to the school’s cultural studies department, and wouldn’t you know it? Easy acceptance, and now, she’s on her way to whichever arts related job she could wish for, thanks to her family names. 

— GENERAL.

FULL NAME: Isabella Areum Choi.

NICKNAMES: Bella, Iz, Ari (family).

BIRTH DATE: July 11, 2001.

ZODIAC: Cancer sun, Capricorn moon, Pisces rising.

ETHNICITY: Korean.

NATIONALITY: American.

LANGUAGES: English, Korean, French, German, Japanese.

ORIENTATION: Heterosexual heteroromantic.

— PHYSICAL.

HEIGHT: 5′5 / 167 cm.

HAIR COLOR: naturally black, currently with brown highlights throughout. 

EYE COLOR: dark brown.

TATTOOS: 111 on her inner forearm; ballet slippers on her ribcage; simple heart on her inner, left pointer finger.

PIERCINGS: first earlobe piercing on each ear.

CLOTHING: feminine and tacky; ballet and 90′s inspired, lots of florals; long skirts, frilly socks, mismatched patterns; tights and leg warmers; gold jewelry and a daily gold cross necklace (yes, insert religious trauma); doc martens, vintage handbags; whites, tans, browns, pinks. 

MAKE UP: a natural look; claw clips, messy pony tails, and pigtail braids; lip gloss and mascara; highlighter and cream blush for special occassions; also a fan of a lip tint or lipstick.

— PERSONALITY.

POSITIVES: passionate, devoted, intelligent, thoughtful, creative, trustworthy, insightful.

NEGATIVES: pessimistic, dramatic, pretentious, morbid, secretive, blunt, sarcastic.

SKILLS: crying on command, ballet, sewing/hemming. 

HOBBIES: practicing ballet, reading, yoga, listening to podcasts, jogging, watching films that make her cry, collecting vintage purses, currating oddly specific spotify playlists, daydreaming.

EXTRACURRICULARS: book club, art club.

EXTENDED: Bella has a soft heart underneath the staged exterior, though there’s very few to see the sensitive side of her. She can be patient, but stern with those close to her, caring for them in a way she craves to be cared for. She’s one for some tough love and blunt advice. Not the most cheerful person, she’s often quiet and reserved, preferring to speak with intention rather than to fill the silence. Her sarcasm can fly over people’s heads with her dry delivery, and she’s the type to give an answer as a joke before offering the truth. Hyperboles are common in her language, and frequently, she’ll enjoy drama for the sake of drama, confusion for the sake of confusion. She’s very closed off, even to people who have known her for years, yet those very close to her would know how lonely she is. She’s beginning to find comfort at Ogden, away from the constant purpose that was ballet, but at the end of the day, even if she won’t admit it to herself, she seeks acceptance amongst her peers.

— ABOUT.

Isabella comes from two lines of wealth, her mother’s family wealth spanning decades in South Korea and her father’s family wealth found working as a hedge fund manager. Anyone who’s anyone would know of the union of the Lee and Choi family and how it brought the Lee’s influence into America.

Her family’s the type to buy impeccible art pieces only to safely tuck them away in storage, own the building where they live in the penthouse suite, and slide through life on the zeros in their bank account. Their daughter never asked for anything, because it would be given before she asked. 

Since birth, a precious only child, Bella’s been sheltered away from the ugliness of the world. Sure, she was displayed at dinner parties and large gatherings, but her parents always kept her at arm’s length from many of her peers. Not that she’d have time in her schedule, anyway. Once her mom adored the idea of a ballerina daughter, her days began and ended with ballet lessons, tutoring and French lessons sprinkled into any spare moments.

She grew up with an intense adoration for the arts, and any kind she could get her hands on. Film, music, literature, theater, dance, opera — it consumed her, especially anything dreadful or emotional. As well as her dream of being a prima ballerina. There isn’t much of a story to tell, after all. She ate, slept, and breathed ballet, even regularly missing school and important social events doing so. Proms, dances, birthday parties, Christmas vacations; she wasn’t always allowed such luxuries, because she had to practice, of course.

Freshly 18, the dream she envisioned came falling down. Patellar tendonitis, or “jumper’s knee,” halted everything she’d been working towards, including her acceptance into Juilliard. Sure, she’d be able to dance, stretch, move, be active, with some physical therapy, but going up en pointe? Isabella had to tell her mother that she’ll never see her on stage ever again. Her last pair of pointe shoes are still hanging above her bed, in her dorm room.

Good thing daddy’s alma mater was easily swayed with some donation money, and Bella chose to study art history, maybe find a job at a museum or become a collector, like her mother. She’s still lost on her new dream, because her entire life revolved around the one thing she fully lost. With no more audience to impress, it was a fresh start, and it was frightening.

Things had begun to go well, a roommate that boosted her social status and a bunch of peers who fluttered at the thought of her family’s money. Until Greer went missing. Bella’s left confused, concerned. At first, she laughed; of course Greer took off. Sounds just like her. Now, the situation is no longer funny. She never thought she’d miss having a roommate, but her phone’s constantly on the news pages.

JAMES CHOI, 47, HEDGE FUND MANAGER, UHM KI JOO.

James’s beginnings were much more humble than his current situation; his parents came to America just before he was born, to grant him citizenship and a promising, bright future. He delivered ten-fold, excelling in school, college, and eventually his career. He started his path shadowing a connection he met through his time at Ogden College, and created his own successful stock portfolio along the way. Desparation was his fuel, desparate to live the life he felt he deserved, provide for his future and current family, and create a legacy to be continued for years and years. 

In the public eye, James is an honest, humble, hardworking man. Not to say he truly isn’t, but it’s a public secret among his social circle that he can go to great stakes to protect his family and his assets. This side is kept out of the public eye, and mostly the eye of his only daughter, and to most, they meet a sweet, well-deserving husband and father. Isabella could never forget, though, the smashed televisions and vases, the busted golf clubs, the ripped designer clothing. It was fine, he’d always say, because everything is replacable. She’d overhear phone calls, with threats or bribes or shady deals, sneak out of her room to find him coming home screaming drunk, see the way her mother tiptoed around him. She’ll always carry a fear of her father, but she’ll also always love him, choosing to cite his virtues over his vices to anyone who ever asked. It surprises most to hear that she’s closing to her father than her mother, daily phone calls and constant check-ins.

LEE SUN HEE, 44, ART COLLECTOR, KIM EUGENE.

Sun Hee was the wildcard of the Lee family, even as a young girl, interested in arts and traveling and America while her siblings were crafted to take on the family businesses. Money had always been promised to her, so she was never interested in work, knowing her father was there to fall back on. Her grandfather headed the Lee family group, a conglomerate controlling several Korean and international businesses, all which carried weight politically and socially. In fewer terms, they were untouchable. As was their money. Her dream was to have a picture perfect family portrait over the mantle in their warm home, surrounded by love and children.

Some cop wearing a JC Penney’s suit entered, clipboard in hand. Bella noticed a wedding ring, dirty and scuffed and old. How sweet. The cop thanked her for coming in, showed some type of concern. All fake, Bella assumed, because why not butter up the missing girl’s roommate to uncover some secrets? Finally, the questioning began, her lawyer giving her a nod of approval, to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“When did you last speak to Greer?” the cop seemed to ask almost robotically, as if she were the fiftieth witness in a row. Maybe she was. Maybe they interviewed the entire student body, but no, she couldn’t let her mind wander. She had to focus.

“May. End of school year. I left earlier than her, so she called me as she left,” she answered, matter-of-factly, looking to the cop for approval. A second one entered the room, wearing a white button up, younger, offering a styrofoam cup of water. DNA collection. She watched enough Law and Order: SVU growing up to ignore the kind action. 

“Okay, good. When did you actually last see Greer? In person?”

“A couple days before then, when I left for New York for a week. She had another final to finish up and packing, some miscellaneous Greer Morrison things. We said our in person goodbyes for the summer, then I left.”

“How well did you know Greer?”

Bella eyed her lawyer, for any signs, to know if she was doing good, bad, if they were about to cuff her to the table for 72 hours of questioning. There was a simple nod, once again, so she answered the question. “I would say fairly well. I’ve known her since childhood. Different schools, but same circles. Being roommates I did try to keep some privacy between us, but we were friends.” Short and sweet. But there was a window. 

“We didn’t spend a lot of time together, particularly. She could get quite overwhelming. We had a lot of the same friends, but she hung out more with other people. Kit Kallberg, Henrietta Astor, Alethea Pierce, Jesse Hart, Mari Zuko. They’re all people I saw her with often.” She noticed them writing down the names, and she shrugged. She wasn’t exactly lying, after all.

“What was your relationship with Greer like?”

“I would say it was respectful, quiet, kind. We were never the type of roommate to argue or fight, really. I think we had a good balance of being friends but keeping things separate. We weren’t, like, staying up, giggling and braiding each other’s hair. Never like that. She was always good at that. Keeping some distance.” The cops eyebrow raised at the question, scribbling down some notes, and Bella picked at her nails underneath the metal table.

“Okay, good. Have you heard or seen anything about where she was this summer?”

That question stumped Bella. Her eyes look off for a second, searching for an answer. “Actually, no.” There’s a pause. “I assumed she’d be vacationing in the Hamptons, like every year. Maybe finding a boy toy, or girl toy... Who am I to judge? Love is love. But I didn’t see anything on socials. I couldn’t place her this summer even if I wanted to.” 

“You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?”