SHOW WINDOW.

hello!! asdffghlljsklf excited to be here!!! my name is jean (she/her, 21+) and i present to you: matthew choi — investment banking associate, training to take over his grandfather’s ib firm. loaded in money, knows it, owns it. doesn’t care if people say his position in the firm is a result of nepotism ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ because the job is his! who cares!!! but also, has a lot of problems with his stepfamily. long story short, *dun dun* he hates them...

anyway — liking the post = permission for me to slide into your dms to plot!! (i’m also on disco 💃 if anyone prefers that.) got matthew’s pages (profile, bio) and a suck-ish wanted connections up. under the cut is a sparknotes of sorts of his history.

[...]

“of course,” she laughs, shooting him a look. “i couldn’t wait on you forever.” her tone is amused as she refers back to their shared promise from all those years ago. “i was a natural. aced my test in one go. like i always do.” the thing about the test is true; she had gotten her license after one try. but the first part is a blatant lie; seoha had not been a natural, not even close; her heart had literally palpitated and tore straight out of her chest the first time she had gripped the steering wheel, eyes glaring at the cars around her as if daring them to have the nerve to come into her lane. in the beginning of her driving career, she had often complained about how it always seemed like all the vehicles in the road were adamant on making her experience a living hell. 

“you ever get a dog?” that had been a long-lasting joke between them; seoha had always teased matt that he’d never be able to get one, mostly because he fell out of affection for things around his place way too quickly. 

it surprises him that he could still remember the way to the restaurant well, considering how long it has been since he was there. frankly, there was no one stopping him from returning, but — as always — matthew choi would rather bury memories six feet under than confront emotions associated with them. it’s not a technique he’s mastered immediately, it took him years for him to perfect it. hell, there are still moments where this system would fail, where memories would resurface through the cracks. maybe this is one of those moments.

no. he’s overthinking it. it’s just a road. jesus, matthew. your birthday is making you so emotional. cut that out.

so, he puts on his mask once more. “kinda wish you’d wait on me,” he teases her, though he knows it’s hypocritical of him to say. one of the things he did to move on from their fading friendship is to take the test, as a way of closing that chapter in his life. rather than spite her (he could never spite her), it’s better for him to cut everything off and forget. no need to slave over the emotional repercussions, life is just life. people move on. if they have a good reason, let them go.

“but that’s great, i knew you had it in you.” no one should doubt kang seoha when it comes to exams. by no means is matthew a stupid one, but seoha has always been the more consistent one when it comes to academics. (and he did just witness the poor kid forgoing food for the sake of studying.) call her a perfectionist, call her an overachiever, call her a workaholic — he has a feeling that her family isn’t doing much stop her either. if anything, they might be pushing her further. while matthew’s work pattern is more akin to energy spikes, seoha’s is more stable.

well, here’s hoping today could be a much needed break for the two of them. how long has it been since they acted like actual kids their age? or, at least, how long has it been since they had fun? he proposes, “should you drive later? promise you won’t crash my car?”

at the question about the dog, he laughs, possibly the first time that day that he laughs… genuinely. she, of all people, should know his complex relationship with pets. his gold fish from third grade long forgotten after merely three days. his teachers perplexed at why he doesn’t bother putting in an effort when it will affect his grade. he did make up for it though, made sure he scored as high as possible so his failure would be off-setted.

but, if people think dogs make for good company — fine, that’s their choice, but to him (as he’s finding out) the only company he prefers, other than his mother and grandfather, is that of a good drink. they don’t demand attention, they don’t take dumps around your house, they don’t chew your shoes. besides, there’s something calming about the quiet. he’s come to realise that when he got his new apartment. he’ll do everything in his power to preserve the peace.

[...]

someone enters, an assortment of petite fours and bite sized pastries arranged on a gilded tiered stand set in the middle of their table. somin uncrosses, recrosses her legs, and leans forward. outside of neon lights and the tang of boozy air, he looks almost respectable. pity about the face. “so this is what you do, when you’re not heckling people in hongdae? you’ve got a lot of time on your hands for a…” she trails off, careless shrug of her shoulders, “what was it you do again?”

would it be smug of him to say he’s never experienced this much hostility?

being the grandson of one of the biggest businessmen in seoul means everyone always sugarcoats their words, their actions, their behaviours — hoping he takes a liking to them so they can leverage the relationship for something in the future.

(blame them for his inability to trust people.)

but somin doesn’t hide her hatred of him and he appreciates her consistency. the intensity of her disdain today is on par — if not more, even — with the handful of times they met during retro rosy’s gig. other people would immediately shift their demeanour, especially after finding out he’s their mentor, pretend they’ve always liked him to make sure he gives them his connections and ‘wisdom’.

but this young 20-something girl had the balls to keep treating like shit!

it makes the game all the more fun to play.

“you’re still on that?” he chuckles. “i don’t think i was heckling.” context, somin. context. he didn’t mean for it to come across as a ‘heckle’. he said something passingly to his stepbrother, about how doesn’t like her band’s genre — not the band itself. the comment, though partially fuelled by his personal opinion, was mostly intended as a snide remark at the expense of his step brother. he wanted to hurt him, not her, but he understands why his words could’ve been misconstrued. “you didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

right on time, the waitress passes along his drink and a small takeaway bag, containing a peach eclair for his mother later.

[...]

     “ oh— oh!! i’m so sorry!! ” rushing closer , she places a hand on his arm to help calm him from the admittedly ill-placed claps. “ i didn’t mean to scare you , i was just watching you play and you looked really good — and you’re not even old! uhh , not that i thought you’d be.. just that.. i haven’t met anyon— wait , matthew? oh my gosh , right!! matthew choi.. from hannam? wow , i never thought we’d meet again in a golf…court? pitch? area…? anyway!! ” she takes a step forward to cover up his step away. “ it’s so nice to see you again , how’ve you been? ”

what the hell?

excuse him for taking a few steps back, for pulling his arm out of her reach, for furrowing his eyebrows in absolute confusion and not even bothering to hide his displeasure.

are people usually this upfront with strangers — wait, are they even strangers?

she does look familiar, but he can’t quite place it. he never puts credence into that feeling, however; with his line of work, he meets a lot of people — be it in meetings, in networking events, in pitching competitions — who pretends they know him despite barely sharing a history. and let him tell you, these people play the weakest game of six degrees of separation (no, he’s not your friend just because he had pineapple juice and your friend likes pineapples on their pizzas).

so, it’s nothing new when the girl mentioned his name, his school, a ‘nice to see you again’. but something is familiar about her — the eye smile, the full cheeks, the ‘vibes’.

oh, no, don’t tell him.

“jamie? ahn jamie?” great. he has to pretend that he’s pleasantly surprised to meet her. “yes, it’s me, matthew... nice to see you, on this golf course,” he corrects her. “i’ve been fine. just fine,” he adds before walking away, ensuring his strides are so he can put more distance between them.

he doesn’t know what’s worse, dealing with those nosy people or dealing with jamie. don’t get him wrong. apperance-wise, she’s pretty. damn pretty. looking at her isn’t much of a problem. personality-wise, she’s friendly, kind, and nice — one of the few people from hannam matthew can say left a good impression on him, for the most part — but yikes, if she isn’t too much at times. people around them have called her a ‘golden retriever personified’ affectionately and good on her, really. just not good for him, because he’s not particularly fond of dogs in the first place.

choices. choices. now, he’s torn between wanting to finish early to avoid her, or to continue with his game to distract himself...

and dealing with jamie seems better than the embarrassment of having his grandfather decline his call because ‘it’s not your account anymore, matthew. let grandpa deal with it’.

[...]

“that littler rivalry we had was pretty fun if you asked me, i’m sad you didn’t consider me a friend back then.” she says, a pout tugging on her lips as she looks at him directly. she wasn’t really upset about the statement, if anything, it was to be expected, the two were never really friends. she is aware that her words could be taken the completely wrong way, but the tone of her voice really did exenterate that she had no ill intent, she never did. “i just thought it would be nice to grab a quick coffee and a chat. nothing more. you could have said no if you were finding it so unpleasant.”

despite letting out an uneasy laugh, matthew touches the box and lifts the cover. he acknowledges the scarf with a nod and a somewhat strained smile. the gesture is nice, really, but he knows no matter what strides they make today, the awkwardness will never truly fade. he has to admire her persistence, however; he has a feeling if joohyun were someone else, she would probably leave him the moment he glared at the box as if it offends him.

but that’s the thing about kwon joohyun. she has always been notoriously nice. sometimes too much for her own good, he thinks, especially when you take into consideration how vicious hannam students could get.

(then again, what else will you turn up as when you’re rich and you can basically get away with everything?)

even if joohyun might have moments of indifference, she’s truly one of those people that matthew can see himself tolerating — and that’s saying a lot. it’s a shame that he was clouded by his competitiveness back then. maybe, they can start anew today.

“to be fair, i don’t consider a lot of people my friends.” hell, his concept of ‘friendship’ is only reserved for a handful out there. his classmates are mere acquaintances, and high school functioned more as a networking event that he begrudgingly had to attend for three years. “i meet and know a lot of people and people act like we’re close, but we’re not friends.”

he shakes his head quickly deflects the topic. under no circumstances does he want to dig deeper into his... ‘loneliness’ or whatever that is.

[...]

“that’s a funny story actually,” she starts with no reservations whatsoever, even though it’s not—a barefaced lie is all that it really is, but shame disguises itself beneath an unflinching grin. “it was like a meeting straight out of a movie. wasn’t it, hajoon?” sujeong croons, all picture perfect sugary sweet as she reaches over the table to hold hajoon’s hand in her own, grip just a little too taut. no matter the apparent discomfiture in her date as he shifts in his seat and only responds with a wordless nod, sujeong brazenly pushes forward. “we bumped into each other at a noodle place. like, literally. i spilled soup all over hajoon, it was a disaster. and the rest is history, as people say.” a laugh floats them by, right before she pulls together an affect of surprise. “oh—what a coincidence, i just remembered it’s the one we always went to, matthew! say, have you ever brought jiwon there?”

no one can ever come close to how frustrating ahn sujeong gets — and that’s his fault. he’s allowed her to become one of his weaknesses. big mistake.

this constant push and pull could wear even the strongest person. the smart decision is to walk away because if this were a competition, it’s rigged to be unwinnable. what are they to gain from this chase? do they really not want the other to be happy that bad? why is he so damn selfish that he wants to drag her to hell with him?

he can hear his mother’s lecture already. ‘why won’t you let the poor girl go?’ ‘she’s playing the same game, mom…’ ‘doesn’t mean you have to play. why can’t you walk away?’

he wouldn’t be matthew choi if he walks away from a challenge that easily. and his mother doesn’t know sujeong as well as he does. she’s not as innocent as she makes her out to be; sujeong just wears this facade too well. no one would believe that she’s tossing in gasoline into the flame as much as he’s fanning it.

he used to think that they made the good pair (and maybe he’s holding out hope that they could still be a pair). but it’s getting increasingly clearer that, back then, they were nothing more than children acting like adults. a relationship based on bottled up feelings and repressed emotions will lead to nothing but catastrophe. guess how their relationship ended? if it wasn’t for their friendship, they wouldn’t last as long. both of them were too afraid of breaking things off out of loyalty... or maybe they’re just addicted to each other.

he prides himself on his self-control, but if there’s anything or anyone who can unravel him, that’d be ahn sujeong.

“are you keeping track of the girls i’m with? i’m flattered, really.” it’s good to know that she’s not the only one with control over him. he’s aware of his charms, knows it too well to know how to wield it to his advantage. but it’s good to be reminded once in a while.

jiwon can only dart her eyes back and forth between the two before mumbling a soft “okay” and returning to the menu. matthew, however, seizes a moment to attack. “your warning seems to come from experience, no?” he nonchalantly flips through the menu. “jesus, sujeong, you’re making it sound like i’m some animal.”

he scoffs at her story (did they really happen? hah! unlikely) and fights the urge to roll his eyes. yet, he doesn’t even realise that he has been gripping the menu a little too hard until he notices the dent. “that’s cute,” he croons as he loosens his hold. “you’re always a sucker for those things, aren’t you? everything needs to be as perfect as the movies.”

but his frown is quickly replaced with a smirk that he directs at sujeong, “i never thought about that, actually. thanks for the date idea.” turning to jiwon, matthew provides her with a smile, a genuinely sweet one. “let’s go there tomorrow.” jiwon purses her lips in confusion, the question of ‘i thought this was a one-time thing’ possibly on the tip of her tongue, but matthew brushes it off with a wave of the hand before shifting the topics.

“before i forget, i just want to draw attention to jiwon and her amazing work at the office today. she just closed a deal to design that new hotel in construction over at gangnam.” he glowers at hajoon. “sorry, uh, what do you do?”

[...]

her face goes pink when her stomach growls, protesting against her food boycott. a smile spreads across her face at the mention of their go-to, and seoha nods instantly. “let’s go. now.” hands moving quickly as if to ask for the directions to his car. “i haven’t been there in so long,” she adds. in fact, the last time she had been there at all had been with him. on the second to last day before the end of their senior year, they had gone to their rendezvous for one final meal together as high schoolers, proudly displaying their IDs as a show of age as they ordered beer in their school uniforms. it had been a real hoot, both of their cheeks flushed as the fizzy alcohol coursed through their veins; seoha had gone home in a tipsy state, stomach full and heart warm, finally prepared to say goodbye to the most turbulent years of her life. 

“we should get ice cream after too,” seoha adds, eyes sparkling at the thought of sweets as she follows him to his car, “or maybe bingsu? or cheesecake?” 

“no, it’s fine.”

how hypocritical is it of him to easily lie like that — all while wanting someone to sense he doesn’t truly mean those words and give him affirmation and comfort.

(and is he a bit upset — emphasis on ‘a bit’ — that seoha doesn’t remember his birthday? maybe. but in her defense, they haven’t been spending much time together lately. he’s spent most of his life insisting his birthdays are to be kept low-key anyway.)

“it’s just my dad, you know i don’t give a shit about him.”

working with the small wiggle room his hand has, he grips her wrist in return and tugs her towards the parking lot. “c’mon, let’s go before you die from hunger,” in between soft laughters, he adds, “i’m buying, so eat a lot, okay?”

the parking lot isn’t too far from the library thankfully. cars only sparsely occupy the area (and matthew assumes most of them belongs to the faculty and not the students). he leads her to the silver BMW X3 — a ‘modest’ gift from his grandfather — that is parked on a space assigned for him.

“i’ve got time, you want to get all of them?” he asks. “i don’t mind. unless you have to study —” he coughs out the next word. “— nerd.”

his free hand darts to her hair and makes quick work to ruffle it up. if his mother was here, he would’ve gotten an earful. it reminds him of that time they were at the arcade when seoha won a street fighter match. in a fit, he mussed up her hair and stuck his tongue out before running away with her tokens. (what a graceful loser he was.) his mother pulled him aside and reprimanded him, said he can’t treat seoha the same way he treats his other guy friends, like sungho or alex. he returned seoha’s tokens and his mother made him pay for her lunch later out of his own allowance.

he presses a button on his car keys, and after a familiar beep, he opens the door. he jokingly bows and gestures for her to get in. “after you, milady.” chuckling (he finds himself so hilarious), he enters the driver’s seat and tosses his bag to the back seats.

engine all warmed up now, the car makes his way out of the parking lot. forgoing the GPS, he decides to rely on his memory for the directions to the restaurant.

there’s a bit of a lull, which he usually takes as a cue to begin small talks. over the years, he’s perfected the art of making conversations, but even then he finds himself bored out of his wits if the conversation remains shallow. but he they have a lot to catch up to — for example, they promised each other to practice for their driver’s license together. that’s before they drifted apart.

1. matthew adores the yoo siblings a lot and he vicariously lives his dream of having siblings through sungho and sunghee (even if sunghee is ehhhh about matthew). sungho is — without a doubt — one of matthew’s closest friends; the only person that matthew will ever consider being vulnerable in front of, the only person whose advice matthew actually listens to (apart from his mother and grandfather), and the only person he shows his fun and playful side to. however, there are still things matthew keep a secret from him.

2. sometimes when they do sleepovers (heyyyyyyyyy~) or travel together somewhere, both of them makes a competition out of who has the worst bed hair. measuring whose is the tallest. it’s pretty hilarious because matthew considers not cutting his hair just so his hair will stick up more than sungho’s (that’s how competitive he gets). toss in alex in there and he will serve as an unofficial judge on the whole debacle.

3. sungho is very passionate on finding matthew a new girlfriend. matthew thought it was a joke initially, but sungho is surprisingly quite effective and quick. by the first month or so, matthew has been on a handful of dates. buuuuuut, matthew has an inkling he’ll never end up in a serious relationship with any of the girl sungho chooses — not because he has bad taste (they know each other enough to know each other’s types), only because matthew right now is not that desperate for a girlfriend. at this rate, matthew’s just going along for a good time and out of respect and loyalty to sungho.

4. one of naeun’s favourite retorts when the mother and son duo are arguing is “if i could switch sons, i would switch you with sungho.” matthew never takes offence in this, he mostly laughs because he knows that sungho is better than him.

[...]

he gets out of the car, hesitant for a moment as he eyes the house, lights already on behind the curtained windows. so the show’s already started, he thinks, considering whether he should have a smoke before to calm his nerves in advance but decides against it, making his way inside instead. the first person he runs into in the hallway surprisingly isn’t a prying aunt, or his mother, and alex is actually pleased to be proven wrong in his expectations when he reaches to give matthew a friendly pat on the shoulder. “ nice to see you. oh no, have they already started without me? what a shame. ”

family gatherings.

he’s conflicted, really.

he likes the food, the drinks, the petty lengths the family would go to to flaunt their achievements to each other. it’s very entertaining, especially when paired with a pinot noir.

on the other hand, isn’t it unfortunate that no one is actually there for each other? conversations always has an undertone of ‘me, me, me. i’m better than you. you’ll never be as rich or successful as me. me, me, me.’

okay, who gives a shit about your mansions, dick?

he’s made the makeshift bar his home base for the night; the bartender — hyuk his name was — is oddly enough the best conversation partner of the night. matthew walks away with a couple of movie recommendations that he don’t mind watching later if he fails chasing some sleep.

he bids hyuk good bye to venture out and talk to more of his relatives. hyuk jokingly bids him a ‘godspeed’ to which matthew laughs.

loosening the tie around his neck, matthew attempts to listen to his uncle go on about his new investment in some online-based business. matthew bites his tongue, unsure between telling his uncle that he’s making a bad investment or letting him convince himself that he can be the next steve jobs.

(he’d like to see the latter happen because that’ll make for interesting conversations for the next family gathering.)

his uncle probably sees the disinterest in matthew’s eyes before leaving to chew some other poor relative’s ears off. matthew sips his drink and walks out of the living room to get some air.

the hallways is still bustling with people, but at least there’s less of them.

a tap on his shoulders doesn’t surprise him, but he hopes that it’s not one of those nosey aunties who keeps asking him when he’s going to get married.

to his delight, it’s a relative that he likes. somebody that he considers an actual friend.

“dude. thank god, you saved me.” he laughs and pulls alex into a hug. “don’t worry, you missed nothing except for aunt jihyun’s speech about family and how we need to stick together — before she goes on about how little mari graduated with the highest marks in hannam high school’s history and is now going to go to uni in the states.”

avoid the parks — they talk too much. not even the usual small talk, they’ll ask you about what you learned from the sermon and how you can apply the wisdom to your life. they’re not going to let you off the hook until you can give them an elaborate action plan and a name of someone to hold you accountable.

avoid the bible study aunties, they’re going to introduce you to ‘peers your age’ and force you go to a session. if you tell them — even in the most polite manner — that you don’t think it’s for you, they’ll insist on fnding you another group. (matthew is on his fifth one and he doesn’t understand why they can’t take the hint that he’s uninterested.)

avoid the people around the table of food. sure the food seems enticing, but it’s a trap. it’s just a way to lure in people into small talks and exchanging of numbers. matthew made the mistake the first time he got there. a few weeks later when he skipped a service, his phone was bombarded with ‘where are you? is everything okay? we didn’t see you today. we’re worried.”

matthew choi has become too good at avoiding these people. there’s a narrow path that leads him to the car park and that’s the direction he always heads to as soon as the pastor blesses the people and lets them out of the church. as his mother mingles with the others, he’ll be in the car, pretending to take phone calls when in reality, he’s just calling his grandfather; sometimes they don’t even talk, seyoon just keeps his phone on while matthew listens to the classical music in the background as seyoon cooks lunch for his daughter and grandson.

unfortunately, before said narrow path, he needs to pass by one of the many entrances of the church. he’s nimble yet careful, almost speed walking as much as his oxford shoes will allow (his mother insisted he dresses nicely... for god...).

he keeps his head down, only allowing others a fleeting eye contact before he turns his attention to... whatever — his phone, the security guard, his shoes, the lady in the corner — and others would focus on something else.

but this one girl narrows his eyes at him, refuses to let go of his gaze, and when he looks away, he can feel her staring daggers at him. she seems familiar, but who the hell (god, forgive his language) is she?

bothered, he allows himself to indulge in the curiosity.

[...]

“ladies and gentleman, attention!” he speaks into the megaphone, voice loud and clear as it catches the attention of all those in their vicinity. “pardon me for interrupting the serenity of your weekend but my good friend here,” a pause as he gestures to matthew, a smirk on his lips. “is looking for a sugar baby. if there are any potential candidates, please report to the front desk of the clubhouse as they are aware of the situation. now please, enjoy the rest of your day here on the course.”

he waits a few seconds before fully cracking up in laughter, megaphone turned off and now gently placed by his feet on the grass. “oh that was so worth it. i hope we get you some potentials, dude.”

“not your fault?” his scoff is loud enough to cause his caddy to jump. “how am i supposed to take your comment seriously? you’re clumping me with those greasy old men.”

unfortunately, matthew was too late at stopping his friend.

what he would give to have a hat or something to cover his face and salvage his reputation. the foreign feeling of getting flustered overtaking him and, oh! how he hates being at the mercy of that. he prays that one of the regulars in the clubhouse doesn’t realise sungho was referring about him, because god knows what kind of gossips the ladies there would spread.

(‘do you know matthew choi, grandson of hwang seyoon, son of hwang naeun, is looking for sugar babies? is he that desperate?!’)

no. that can’t happen. please don’t let that happen.

for now, he could only turn around, hiding his flushing face and pretending he has no idea what this strange person is yelling about —

actually, he’s debating whether he should jump on the golf cart and drive away —

wait. you know what? he won’t do that, because unlike a certain someone, matthew prides himself on being a good friend. he’s not going to be the guy who leaves sungho alone with a megaphone in the middle of golf course, looking like a fool.

after a lull, he scrunches his nose at his friend, trying to look like he was not impressed.

“do you really think anyone will ‘apply’?” he retorts. “it’ll be embarrassing for you if no one does. for all we know, everyone here is rich enough to not need a sugar daddy — or worse, they already got one.”

SCAR TISSUE @matthewchr​ c. 2012 

[...]

at first, she doesn’t get up, only glares at him from where she is perched on her duffel bag— but knowing matthew choi, he’s probably not even looking at her. with a puff, she gets up, dragging her bag with her and opening the passenger door unceremoniously.

“you’re late.”

it’s the first words she’s said to anyone in weeks.         

as always, his mother was the first to point it out.

something is wrong, chae isn’t herself. she said, a sympathetic look upon her face as she watches the young girl from a distance. matthew remained quiet, thought it wasn’t his place to speak. who was he to say how she should or shouldn’t act? everybody has their own way of processing grief, maybe that was chaeryeong’s.

the funeral was beautiful, but that’s what money can buy — a gold coating on a tragedy.

naeun hissed at the excessive flower displays. i hate those. appropriate coming from a woman who only sent a small bouquet of lilies and thought the proper thing was to stay throughout the day with the grieving family.

don’t you see how different she was? it was nearing two a.m. when they walked back to their car. actually, matthew noticed. he tried pulling chaeryeong into a hug and — unlike usual, where she would try to jab his side — she barely gave him a hug back. you need to be her friend, be there for her.

he should’ve listened.

picking her up is the least he could do. he felt guilty for not hugging her tighter. he felt guilty for not seeing the tell-tale signs so he could warn her mother that something’s off. he felt guilty for being a coward and not daring to enter her hospital room because he was too afraid of looking at her face.

picking her up is the least he could do.

consider him glad, relieved, grateful, that she’s willing to speak to him.

“i was getting food,” he says as he almost yanks the duffle bag from her and tosses it to the seat behind them. then, he probes for a paper bag and hands it over.

a burger, some fries, and a milkshake.

“i don’t know if you’re allowed to eat this, but i heard junk food makes people happier.” he clears his throat, trying to mask the awkwardness. there’s a small plastic packaging in his cupholder, some random littlest pet shop toy, which he takes out and hands to her. “comes with a happy meal too, you can have that.”

with a swing, matthew sends the ball soaring to the air. adjusting his cap to prevent the sunlight from hindering his sight, he watches the ball lands about a metre away from the hole. worry not — the slanted ground causes it to roll slightly... but not enough. damn, so close.

to say today has been a bad day would be an understatement. he reasons that’s why this isn’t his best game.

just as a client’s company is undergoing an IPO, a corruption rumour broke out, claiming that said client embezzled money in his previous workplace. whether or not this is true (and matthew prays it’s not, and matthew choi barely prays), it’s a PR nightmare; and it shows based on the way matthew’s grandfather quickly took over the project and deployed all their best lawyers to aid the police’s investigations.

he knows it’s not his fault. it’s the client’s fault for doing something so reckless (or for being stupid enough to not cover his tracks properly), but matthew still feels a burden on his shoulders. it was supposed to be his project after all.

he makes his way to the ball and sets his golf club behind it. he gives the ball a small push, and it finally enters the hole... unceremoniously.

has golf always been this dry? did he make a mistake for telling his caddy he wants to golf alone today?

clap. clap. clap — the sound shocks matthew. he jolts in place and almost drops his golf club. jesus, that’s 10,000 won, he scolds himself out of embarrassment, mostly because nothing, or nobody, should be able to surprise him.

he glares at the girl standing a little too close for his taste. she seems familiar and, uh... annoyingly cute.

question is: what is his dream? everybody has their own versions of it. to matthew choi, a dream is akin to a goal; don’t people strive to achieve their dreams? by that definition, are they not goals?

but life’s too complex for one to completely mould it based on their dream. it’s a futile struggle. what happens after you achieve that dream? what if you don’t feel satisfied — what do you then, keep finding new dreams? seems tiring.

yet, if his previous actions are any indication, he’s not above using his money or influence or dirty tricks to propel his agendas. (he would never call them ‘dreams’, that’s an imaginary concept for children, he firmly believes.)