“Come here,” Seungwan says, barely containing his fury.

Wordlessly, Joohyun shakes her head.

Pictures - to some degree, it shows you how someone looks. But they’re not one-hundred percent accurate.

And in this case, the precious photo Joohyun obsessed over is no match for the flesh-and-blood version of this man.

Her picture did little justice to capture Seungwan's true nature. Despite he looks intimidated with his brown shoulder-length hair looking disheveled and how his sharp cheekbones and pronounced nose line gave his face a stern cast,  there was an underlying softness not conveyed.

What wasn’t apparent in the picture is telltale of his dimple .Seungwan would unconsciously run his tongue over his lips. It was in that brief moment that Joohyun spotted it - the barest indentation in his cheek. Its appearance softened his entire demeanor, making him seem almost boyish.

The most prominent shock is his eyes - resembling not a predator's, but those of an eager puppy, though those eyes seem to miss nothing in view.

Most guys  in the room are wearing men hanboks and have their dress shirts perfectly pressed. But not him. He’s wearing black pants and a simple white dress shirt tuck in with the sleeves rolled up to reveal golden forearms.

Everything about him screams masculinity and power.

At five feet one, Joohyun knows she's short, but not too petite. In heels, she’s the same height as Sehun's five foot seven stature, but standing next to this man makes her feel like a grasshopper. At a towering height nearing two meters, thee top of her head grazes the underside of his chin.

Fight or flight instinct finally kicks in, and she quickly takes a step back. Then another. And another. He anticipates her movements, and with lightning-quick reflexes, reaches out and grabs her arm.

His lips go into a flat line as he all but drags her through the crowd. Her heart furiously pounds as we pass everybody. Some people wear sympathetic expressions, and others stare at her smugly, as though she’s getting what she deserves.

This can’t be happening. The grip on her arm and the pain shooting through it tell her it is.

And it’s that discomfort that helps Joohyun find her voice. “Get your hands off me right now.”

Seungwan ignores her.

Before they exit the room, Seungwan abruptly turns around and faces the crowd. He doesn’t let go of her, and doesn’t squirm or become embarrassed with all eyes on him.

No, Seungwan is comfortable with having all the attention. All the power.

“The party is over.” His voice carries across the room like a roar. All eyes veer his way before they drift past him to her. “You all need to be out of my house within five minutes.”

Two. That’s the number of seconds it takes for people to scatter across the foyer like ants on a sidewalk. 

Joohyun hears hushed tones all around her. Ladies she’s never seen in her life pass her and tell her they’ll see her soon. Some of them give her small pats on the shoulder, almost as if to say, “Sorry for what you’re about to go through, but glad it’s you and not me.”

A few minutes later the last guest is rushing down the stairs. There are four people left: Johnny, Sooyoung, Joohyun, and Joohyun's mystery man who now has an actual name.

Seungwan.
Seungwan.
The name suits him. She thought.

Seungwan glances around the empty, trashed room with barely disguised contempt, then he looks back at her. His expression never changes. “You’ve outdone yourself. Torn curtains, broken glasses. A room trashed all in hours. I think this is your personal best.”

“Seungwan, maybe you should have this conversation in—”

He whirls around. “Sooyoung, that is enough!”

The room becomes deathly quiet. Seungwanexhales loudly, turns on his heels, and leaves the room. His fingers are still firmly wrapped around her arm.

As they move down the hall, Joohyun elbows him in the stomach as hard as she can, but other than a soft grunt, he’s unmovable.

It’s only when they’re halfway down a dimly lit hallway that Seungwan lets her go. He watches her with barely restrained fury.

Joohyun has a feeling that if he could, he’d have his hands around her neck.

Instinctively, she steps back and turns in the other direction, intent on getting the hell out of this place. At first this dream was fun, but the second this man came into the picture, everything went downhill.

Joohyun has worn out her welcome. It’s time for her to wake up.

Seungwan bands an arm around her shoulders, pressing her back against his front. “Oh, no you don’t,” he says against her ear. His voice is low, almost hypnotic.

“Let go,” Joohyun snaps.

“If I do, will you run?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re at a dead end, aren’t we?” Seungwan turns her around and holds her at arm’s length, looking her in the eye. “Do you not remember our last conversation?”

There’s no way to describe how bizarre it feels to be this close to a complete stranger, only to have him speak to her as though they share a broad history.

Seungwan waits for Joohyun's answer. She’s so scared and confused though that she can’t utter a single word.

A muscle along his jaw jumps. Finally, Seungwan shoves her away. She stumbles a few steps back and lays a palm on the wall to steady herself.

With his hands on his hips, he paces. Furtively, Joohyun looks over her shoulder, trying to gauge how quickly she can get away from this whack job with him distracted.

“Are you gonna play dumb tonight?” Joohyun asks. She says nothing, and he snorts. “Very well. I told you there would be no more parties that’d smear our last name and under no circumstances were they to be held here. Does that sound familiar?”

Joohyun shakes her head. Her mind can hardly keep up with everything he’s saying.

But what she can pick up on is the fact he’s barely keeping his temper in check. He’s like a bomb, seconds away from going off. She needs to treat him with kid gloves. That’s her only chance of escaping.

“We may not act like husband and wife, but this is still our home, Joohyun. Can you give me some respect?”

Joohyun stares at him in disbelief. Everything comes to a grinding halt.

Our home.

Husband.

Wife.

Joohyun finally finds her voice. “What did you say?”

Seungwan snorts. “What is wrong with you? How much have you drunk tonight?”

She advances on him. “Did you call me your wife?”

He closes his eyes and squeezes the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and takes a deep breath. “I’ve had a long night, and I don’t have the patience for you right now.”

His hands heavily fall to his sides as Seungwan gives her a blank stare. Then he turns and walks down the hall.

Joohyun stares at his retreating form, feeling sick to her stomach.

He said wife. She knows he did.

Someone comes up behind her, yet she remains frozen in place.

“It is gonna be okay,” Sooyoung says. She puts her arm around Joohyun and gives her a small squeeze. “Whenever my brother gets like this, it’s typically best to give him some space. He’ll calm down in a few days.”

“Wife,” Joohyun says faintly, looking at Sooyoung with wide eyes. “He called me his wife.”

Sooyoung smiles. “Yes, wife. Have been for three years.”

“Three years?”

Sooyoung guides them down the hall, and Joohyun is too fixated on everything Seungwan said to protest.

Her fingers and legs are going numb, and the feeling spreads throughout her body. Somehow her heart is furiously beating. Joohyun wonders if this is the beginning of a panic attack.

Sooyoung leads them down the hall. They pass pictures of old, unsmiling people who have to be ancient family members. If Joohyun weren’t so freaked out, she would’ve stopped to get a better glimpse. They make a sharp right and enter the first door to her right.

“Here we are,” Sooyoung says.

Joohyun stops in her tracks because this isn’t her bedroom. Sooyoung immediately goes to the bed and pulls back the covers. Closing her eyes, Joohyun drags her hands through her hair.

Taking deep breaths isn’t helping. Jooohyun doubts counting to ten will either. She can pinch herself, but that will only give her a bruise. She’ll still be stuck here because something is seriously wrong with this entire situation.

When she opens her eyes, Sooyoung is standing by the bed. “You don’t look well.”

“I don’t feel well.”

“I think you should lie down. Tonight has been overwhelmin’.”

But Joohyun doesn’t give in and stand still. “What’s today’s date?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Excuse me?”

“Today’s date. What is it?”

“April 12th.”

Sooyoung's reply feels like a punch to the gut. When Joohyun fell asleep on the couch, it was December 20th.

But strange things happen in dreams. Impossible things. Stuff that when Joohyun thinks about it the next morning makes her laugh and wonder why that cycled into her dream to begin with.

So why doesn’t she feel reassured?

Asking the year is on the tip of her tongue, but she’s almost afraid to hear the answer.

Why is her dreaming starting to feel like such a nightmare? Maybe Sooyoung is right. Perhaps Joohyun does need to lie down, and then she would wake up and this would be over.

Joohyun nods. “You’re right. I need to lie down.”

 

Sooyoung smiles brightly and leads Joohyun toward the bed. “Sometimes a good night of sleep is what I need to make me feel better.”

Sooyoung interprets her silence as compliance and continues to fill the quiet. “Seungwan will be okay tomorrow. You’ll see.”

With her hands in her lap, Joohyun replays Seungwan's words in her head. “We may not act like husband and wife, but this is still our home. Can you give me some respect?” He has it all wrong. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“I should open the windows. Some fresh air might help!” Sooyoung hurries over to the windows lining the other side of the wall.

Joohyun glances at the end table and sees a picture of herself. She quickly grabs the frame, holding it so tightly her fingertips turn white.

The photo is black-and-white, and it’s her profile. Her eyes look toward the distance. A half-smirk plays at the corner of her lips. Her hair is swept up in a large bun. The wavy strands appear full at the sides, and there are short curls around her big ears. This is her face.

However, it isn’t her. Joohyun thinks she’d remember taking this picture.

Dream. This is all a dream, her mind urgently reminds her.

Her hands shake, so Joohyun gently sets down the photograph and picks up the magazine lying next to it.

In Korean characters, the title reads "Chosŏn Yŏsŏng."

The front cover has an intricate ink painting of a woman in traditional dress, with her hair neatly wrapped in a binyeo. In her hands she holds delicate embroidery.

At the top right corner, the price is listed as 3 jeon. Below this is the date - "1876 nyŏn 4 wŏl."

For a second, Joohyun feels as though her heart has stopped beating.

“1876?” She whispers.

“The year of Joohyun,” Sooyoung remarks.

Joohyun jumps once she realizes Sooyoung is standing beside her. “What?”

“During the New Year’s Eve celebration, when the clock struck midnight, you announced 1876 was gonna to be the year of Joohyun,” Sooyoung smirks then shrugs.

“Granted, you say that every year, but you were quite adamant about it this time.”

“1876,” Joohyun repeats. “It’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid it is.” Sooyoung's eyes can’t conceal her worry. “The bed is right behind you. Sleep this all off, and everything will be okay.”

Numbly, Joohyun watches as Sooyoung fluffs the pillows. Joohyun lies down and allows her to draw the sheets up to the chin.

1876.

No matter how many times Joohyun tries to wrap her brain around the year, it doesn’t sink in fully.

But does it matter if she believes it or not? Hopefully, within a few minutes, she’ll wake up and be back in her bed with Sehun.

Sehun.

Joohyun desperately wants to see him and be consoled by a familiar face despite he threw the picture into the fire.

As Sooyoung walks away, and Joohyun is tempted to ask her to stay; Joohyun;s scared. Scared of what’s happening and what will happen.

Before Sooyoung shuts the door, she gives Joohyun one last smile. “In the morning, everything will be fine.”

The door quietly clicks shut, yet her words linger. Not for a second does Joohyun believe her. Deep in her gut, she knows something isn’t right.

“Sleep, Joohyun,” Joohyun whispers.

Her eyes flutter shut once, twice, and a final time before she slips under, Sooyoung's words lulling her to sleep.