The sprawling grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace shimmered under the relentless sun.
Its distinct shape set as a historical jewel nestled in the crown of modern Seoul. Time had slithered to a stop, the buzz of nearby traffic a distant memory outside the palace gates.
I wondered for the hundredth time if it were too late to beg off. Sweat already traced liquid lines down my face in the summer afternoon, while the sweat-drenched prison of pink and yellow hanbok fabric crawled and clung to intimate places.
I reflected on what led me to say yes to Soo-yeon's invitation to join her and her friends at this historical role-playing event. Like most introverts, I regretted saying I'd come as the words left my mouth.
Balancing my studies and working hard to improve the lives of my parents and siblings was already a lot.
I yanked at the garment's bodice. It stuck to my ribs like a Kevlar vest, restricting deep breaths. What had possessed me to agree to this hell?
Oh, right. It was Soo-yeon's little motivational speech.
"Live a little, halmeoni" Soo-yeon had said, right before her eyes narrowed to judgmental slits. Something that happened when she felt I wasn't achieving my full potential.
I could feel the weight of her gaze flicking over my baggy sweatpants, stopping at the colourful rag tied around my head.
I may have come to the technical institute as an exchange student and considered myself lucky to make such a good friend, but now I wasn't so sure. My limited grasp of Korean included this word, and it alone had goaded me into coming, a twenty-something-year-old me, compared to grandma. Pfft.
If I were halfway to being honest, I wasn't as ambitious as my grandma, who ran several companies. The moment I came home, off came the bra and shoes, and I would flick on the television, sit on the couch and eat snacks until I fell asleep in a carb-induced coma.
I was an ambitious, lazy person without executive function who'd made a wretched friend who had managed to motivate my chubby cheeks out the front door. Thus, here I was, in the blistering sun, miserable, sweaty, and too fat for my hanbok, with not even a small treat in sight.
I walked around the grounds while I waited for her, stopping periodically to rub my swollen feet. I begrudgingly admitted that the palace was as breathtaking as my friend suggested and the Goggle Gods promised.
As far as my eye could see, lush gardens, ancient pavilions and majestic structures transported me to another era.
The throne room loomed ahead, its majesty pulling me closer despite my discomfort. The intricate carvings, bold colours, and dragon motifs were like something from a storybook—or my favourite historical romance TV binge.
Even though I live in Korea now, I still look like a gobsmacked tourist. What did Soo-yeon call this place again?
Gyeongbokgung Palace. KEYONGGGBOOOK ONG palace. I repeated, trying to say the word correctly in English. I moaned with embarrassment, glad no one could hear my butchered pronunciation. Babies spoke Korean better than me.
"Gyeong...bok...gung?" I mumbled as I practiced the foreign word, trying to get the pronunciation right. It still felt like a tongue-twister. Two-year-olds definitely spoke Korean better than me.
My gaze continued, drawn along by an internal compass I couldn't explain.
The canopy rose above the emperor's seat, decorated with a script I imagined claimed heaven's authority.
To the side, an ornate folding screen embroidered with the sun, moon and five mountainous peaks added privacy.
Symbols of protection, immortality and authority whispered a voice deep within me.
Massive wooden pillars stained in vibrant reds and greens with intricate gold details forced my gaze upward, where dragons and phoenixes took flight across the ceiling surface.
I wondered what it would be like to sit atop the elevated stone platform, imagining myself taking the stairs leading up to the regal perch flanked by carved rocks adorned with dragon motifs.
The tips of my fingers itched to follow their snouts right to their pointy tails.
Shrinking back at the sudden appearance of a handsome man, I watched as he paced. His face was full of worry. Judging by his garments, he must be the actor playing the king.
"Do you know where you tread, Wanghu Mama?" A deep voice from behind sent my heart into my throat.
I spun around, instinctively bowing like a moron a habit I'd learned from the movies.
Soo-yeon taught me the finer points of cultural etiquette, and not everyone deserved such a deep bow. Still, I was glad I had. His grammar was like that of a 16th-century scholar, and I hoped he could understand my intent.
"How could I, unless guided by one of knowledge?" My gaze darted upward to glimpse a stern gaze under the brim of a yugeon hat.
His bearing was regal, his presence commanding, as though he were authentic royalty instead of someone playing dress-up.
He offered me a look, the wide brim of his black hat raised, head tilting to allow his chilly gaze to meet mine.
My eyes landed on the dual strings of jade beads (gatkeun) attached to his hat.
Hadn't I read somewhere that the beads of their hats told of their rank? Whoever this cosplayer was, his outfit was sure on point, I reflected, feeling a strange curiosity.
The corners of his mouth turned downward, his piercing gaze unwavering. "Be sure to follow all the rules. This is no place for the careless. Nor any excuse for ignorance."
Before I could respond, the unmistakable sounds of struggle erupted outside the throne room. Shouts, scuffles, and Soo-yeon's unmistakable voice rang out.
"Stay here, " The man ordered, his authoritative tone squelching argument.
I stared after his back, obeying as though second nature. Before wondering who he imagined himself to be to order me around.
I inched closer to the doorway until I saw Soo-yeon squaring off with a man, her face red with indignation.
She stood at the center of the chaos, fists clenched, face flushed with outrage. She was speaking Korean sharper than I'd ever heard.
A man dressed as a royal guard receiving the brunt of it. Their argument was drawing a crowd, clearly signalling something had gone wrong.
"That's ridiculous. I didn't cheat." Judging by her wild demeanor, this wasn't part of the script.
"Soo-yeon," I called out. She glanced my way, an expression of relief mixed with exasperation.
"This is why I haven't been able to meet you.
She pointed an accusatory finger at the guard, looking ready to smack him. "This giant turd says I've broken the rules, but I haven't and didn't."
The guard, a burly man with a scowl etched deeply into his features, held her phone aloft like contraband and stepped forward as if to invite the tussle.
"This is supposed to be an authentic experience." He growled, waving her smartphone around for all to see. "And you're ruining it for everyone."
"Oh, please. It's practically an antique and works like it belongs in the Joseon Dynasty," Soo-yeon countered with an unexpected jump, trying to snatch the phone from the guard's grip.
My heart sank. Soo-yeon was usually a stickler for the rules, but she also had a mischievous side. I rushed to her, hoping to defuse the situation.
"Please, everyone. I'm sure it's a mistake." I appealed, looking for sympathy in frowning faces.
The crowd's murmurs matched the weight of their judgmental stares. If we didn't resolve this quickly, who knows how far they'd go? She'd told me about some of their other meet-ups.
My friend could spend a day in the stocks, face a caning or worse in her eyes, not be allowed to return.
"What is the meaning of this commotion?"
The man who played the king appeared, his voice echoed with the authority of his role. "I need not remind you we are guests in the palace."
Immediately, the crowd quieted, falling into order. Soo-yeon studied the ground intently.
A red flush crept up the guard's face. "This girl has a modern device." The guard rushed to the king's position and held out the phone with as much grace as one of the palace eunuchs.
The king took the phone, his expression curious as he inspected it. To our surprise, he turned to Soo-yeon with a calm expression."Did you bring this intentionally?"
"I've been using it to locate my friend. We're allowed to use it if new participants join us." She looked at me to ask for backup while glaring at the guard.
My words came out in a rush. "I kept sending her texts about where to meet. She was so excited to bring me today, " I trailed off, knowing how forgetful my friend could be.
The king pinned me with a look, probably trying to recall if he'd seen me before. "You're new to our activity?"
My face, now four shades of red, confirmed it. "Yes, this is my first time."
The would-be king studied us for a moment before sharing his judgment. "Very well. We can overlook it this time, so long as it remains put away. Let's not ruin the day's enjoyment."
A collective sigh swept through us and the crowd. The king's fair assessment of the situation eased the tension. Slowly, people began to disperse, returning to their respective roles.
I smiled, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Maybe this live-action role-play thing isn't so bad after all. I was actually worried the king was going to toss us out.
Soo-yeon grabbed my sleeve as everyone dispersed. "I'm sorry, but I have a scene in the kitchen that calls for four people. The area is so tight, and there's no room to watch. Do you think you'll be okay alone for just a bit longer?"
My thoughts on the man with the strong chin, "Yes, I met another player outside the chamber a few sections away. I'll start there."
"Good luck!" Soo-yeon called with a cheerful wave as she hurtled toward the kitchen.