Translation of Love

11

T-Shirt

Koko is dragging me out tonight to a club. I'm not much of a partier, though I don't mind drinking every once in a while. But since I'm in Korea I thought I'd check it out, see how different or similar it is to back home.

Or maybe I was just looking for another diversion from thoughts about my mother.

She told me it is a "low-key" place, whatever that means. Basically, she said I could just wear normal clothes, nice, but not too nice. Unfortunately for me, I didn't have much choice anyway. Koko had been keeping me really busy lately, so much so that I haven't seen Taeyoung in almost two weeks. I'm thankful though, it doesn't allow me time to think too much to myself. But this also meant that I forgot to do laundry last week.

"Shit," I mutter to myself.

I hold up the last clean pair of jeans I have. At least they are fashionable jeans, with huge cutouts on the shins and thighs. I hadn't been confident enough to wear them yet—they were almost too chic for me. While many Korean girls do dress fashionably around the city, I have been sticking to my North American habit of simple shorts and a t-shirt most days.

Well, today's the day then.

I'm looking for a shirt to pair it with, but can't find any clean shirt that actually matches. In fact, I can't find any clean shirts in general. I consider digging into my basket of dirty clothes when a piece of black fabric in the corner of my closet catches my eye. I pick it up.

Is this... Taeyoung's?

I had forgotten to return the shirt he lent me over a month ago. I washed it and then never got around to giving it back.

I shouldn't.

But I don't want to wear something gross.

But I shouldn't.

Screw it, he's not going to ever know.

I take the shirt, made of very soft, nice fabric, and throw it over my head. It's very long, oversized, but when I tuck it into the front of my jeans it actually looks... trendy? I grab a white baseball cap, straighten my wavy dark brown hair as much as I can, and put some real effort into my eye makeup. I actually look good. Kind of like one of those Korean female rappers I see advertisements of. Pretty, but also kinda deadly—or at least that's what I think

This will be interesting.

I meet up with Koko and she immediately hands me a bottle of soju.

"W-what?" I know you can drink on the streets in Korea but it just feels so wrong to me.

"Trust me. It's better to get drunk off of convenience store soju before the club. Much cheaper." She takes a smooth gulp of her own bottle and raises her eyebrows at me.

My face contorts after the first taste. It's so bitter and clean tasting—as if I just drank rubbing alcohol for cleaning wounds. It takes half the bottle before the harsh taste finally subsides.

We take the walk to the club while drinking the soju and I feel less guilty once I notice almost everyone else doing the same.

Once again, people are everywhere and my loss of coordination makes it harder to walk straight. Luckily I wore a new pair of white platform sneakers instead of heels. They look trendy, but they are comfortable. I love comfort. Despite it, I end up grabbing onto Koko's arm to help me keep balance.

***

As soon as we arrive I feel my body start to sweat from nerves. This particular street in Hongdae is all lined with clubs—mostly blasting hip-hop music. Intoxicated young people can be seen absolutely everywhere. It's like people are nocturnal in this country.