“You’re still sleeping with him?”
Mi-ran sheepishly stirred her coffee with the paper straw, “I guess I am.”
“Mi-ran-ah, this can’t go anywhere good!” Song-yi protested.
“I know, I know that, but it’s not even like I’m encouraging it! Dae-hwan just shows upon my doorstep every Sunday night, like clockwork.”
Song-yi raised an eyebrow, “Is it at least good?”
Mi-ran gave her a half-smile, “Depends. Sometimes he’s too drunk to tell if he’s even inside, you know?”
They shared an immature giggle. Gulping the last dregs of her tea, Song-yi got to her feet, “Well, it’s your life. I just hope you aren’t starting to expect anything of him.”
“Oh, Eonni, you worry too much!”
“You think I don’t know you?” Song-yi retorted, slinging an arm around her friend’s shoulders.
Mi-ran laughed as they walked out of the café in step, “Hey, we’re young! There’s still plenty of time to mess around.”
“I disagree, I think we need to use this time to make something of ourselves, you know? To build our legacy-”
“Again, with the nagging,” Mi-ran interrupted playfully, “Were you out protesting again this weekend?”
“You know I was.”
“How did it go?”
“The same as always – people look away and ignore us, but then they go home and they think about what we were asking for. Eventually it’ll make a difference, I’m sure of it.”
As they sauntered back into the building, a poster to the right of the stairs caught Mi-ran’s eye. She stopped, intrigued by it, “What’s Son PD up to now?”
“Oh, that?” Song-yi grimaced, “His next masterpiece. Pay no attention to it, there’s no way it’ll get approved anyway, he’s just acting up.”
They started up the stairs. Mi-ran looked down at the poster one last time. “But he’s claiming it’s possible to cryogenically freeze people! Is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s probably just a gimmick or something.”