Orla:

I found myself sitting on a cold, hard bench just outside of baggage claim, staring at my phone as I scrolled through endless lists of hotels and hostels. The reality of my situation was beginning to sink in, and it wasn’t looking good.

With everything that had gone down—the wedding I’d just bolted from, the frantic escape to the airport—I wasn’t exactly flush with cash. My savings were all I had left, and they weren’t going to take me very far. I hadn’t earned much of my own since being with Logan. He’d always given me an allowance, but the little I had saved was from before our relationship—and it wasn’t nearly enough to keep me afloat for long.

An onslaught of messages had flooded my phone—my family, Logan—but I ignored them all. I couldn’t deal with any of it right now. I just needed to find somewhere to stay, somewhere safe where I could figure out my next move.

I thought about Logan’s credit card, still tucked away in my bag. But using it now? That would be a mistake. He could trace me in an instant, not that I figured he’d bother chasing after me at this point. But still, I didn’t want to take the risk. I needed to keep my distance, both physically and mentally.

An hour passed as I searched, my options looking bleaker by the minute. Hostels were cheap, sure, but they weren’t exactly where I wanted to spend my first night in Seoul. I needed somewhere safe, somewhere I could figure out my next move. But with my limited funds, nothing seemed quite right.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, I thought of my old college roommate. We hadn’t kept in touch much over the years, and I was sure her old American number I had stashed in my contacts wouldn’t work. But she was the only person I knew in South Korea.

I hesitated, scrolling through my apps until I found Messenger. Maybe, just maybe, she was still using it. Taking a deep breath, I typed out a quick message, explaining that I was in Seoul and could use a place to stay if she had any recommendations. Then I sat back and waited, hoping that she’d remember me and that I hadn’t just made things even more complicated.

After sending the message, I tucked my phone away and looked around the terminal. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since… well, I couldn’t even remember. The fruits and croissant on the plane hardly counted, and the stress of the day had left me too wound up to think about food until now.

I spotted some vending machines across the way, and despite the absurdity of my situation—sitting in an airport in Seoul, still in a wedding dress—I figured a snack was better than nothing. I got up, gathered the ridiculous layers of fabric that trailed behind me, and made my way over.

The machine with the chips seemed old, the kind that probably jammed more often than not. But I was too hungry to care. I fished out a few coins from the bottom of my bag and fed them into the slot, pressing the button for a bag of chips. The text on the button was in Hangul, but I didn’t care what flavor it was—food was food at this point.

Nothing happened.

I pressed the button again. Still nothing.

Frustrated, I jabbed the button a few more times, but the machine stubbornly refused to cooperate. That’s when I noticed the coins I’d fed into the machine—American coins. No wonder it wasn’t working.

With a sigh, I waited as the machine slowly spit the coins back out into the change slot. I gathered them up, feeling defeated, and was about to walk away when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.

I turned to see an older Korean woman standing beside me, her eyes seemed kind and understanding. She must have noticed my struggle, because she reached into her purse, pulled out a few Korean coins, and fed them into the machine. A moment later, the bag of chips I’d been trying so hard to get dropped into the slot.

She handed the bag to me with a soft smile, and though I didn’t understand her words, the gesture was clear. I bowed my head in thanks, mumbling a "gamsahamnida" in Korean that was far from perfect. My minimal knowledge of the language came from the few Korean dramas my grandmother would watch while babysitting me when I was younger. But aside from that, with my fully American-Irish dad, English was the only language spoken in our house. My mom, being only half Korean herself, never spoke it, at least not around me and my brother.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The woman’s smile widened when she heard my thanks, and she gave me a knowing wink before bowing slightly and walking away. Her smile seemed a little odd, almost as if she knew something I didn’t. For a moment, I wondered if I should be concerned, but I shrugged it off, deciding it was probably nothing.

I quickly made my way back to the bench, feeling both grateful and embarrassed by the whole encounter. As I opened the bag and took a bite, I couldn’t help but laugh quietly to myself. Here I was, sitting in an airport in a wedding dress, rescued by the kindness of a stranger, and a bag of chips. How much more pathetic could I look?

As I finished the last few bites, my phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down to see a notification from Messenger—Nara had replied. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly opened the message.

Orla! I’m so glad to hear from you! I can’t believe you’re in Seoul—how long are you here for? We definitely have to meet up. I’d love to catch up with you!

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Nara was as friendly and enthusiastic as ever. I started typing a response, trying to figure out what to say—how to explain everything that had happened without sounding like a complete disaster. But before I could even get halfway through, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was an incoming video call. Nara. Of course, she wouldn’t wait—she never did.

Panic set in as I glanced down at my still-rumpled wedding dress. No way could I explain this right now. In a hurry, I zipped up my hoodie, tugging it tight to cover as much of the dress as possible. I took a deep breath and answered the call.

Nara’s face filled the screen, her smile as wide as ever. “Orla! Oh my Gosh, it’s so good to see you! How are you? What’s going on?”

I couldn’t help but smile back, her infectious energy lifting my spirits despite everything. “Hey, Nara. I’m… I’m fine. How are you?”

“I’m doing great! Was just about to set some hot-pot on the stove," she says as she momentarily flips the video to her stovetop. An amalgamation of vegetables and vibrant colors sat in a red soup-like liquid and my stomach rumbled. Clearly the chips weren't enough.

"Oh yum—"

"What are you doing in Seoul?" she continues, turning the camera back to herself. "I’m so surprised! Why didn’t you message me me sooner?” Nara’s excitement bubbled over, her questions coming rapid-fire.

Guilt tugged at me as I fumbled for an answer. “I’m sorry, Nara. I know I should’ve kept in touch… It’s just been so crazy, you know?"

Nara waved off my apology, her smile never wavering. “Don’t you worry about it! I’m just so happy to hear from you. How long are you here for? Where are you staying? I’ll come pick you up!”

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Well, about that… I, uh… to be honest, I don't even know how I ended up here. I didn’t exactly make any arrangements. I just… came here without a plan.”

Nara’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t miss a beat. “What do you mean? Did you just get on a plane not knowing you were coming here?"

"Um.. kind of… it's a long story."

"So you don't have any place to go?"

"Not really."

Nara chuckled, shaking her head. "Why does this not surprise me? You had the same habit back in university—no planning, just diving in headfirst. Seems like you haven’t changed a bit."

I laughed, a bit embarrassed. "I suppose you’re right, but this is definitely the kind of trip I should have planned for. I feel so stupid about all this."

"Orla, listen, this is so not problem! You can stay with me. My place isn’t huge, but it’s cozy, and you’re more than welcome.”

Her immediate offer made my chest tighten with emotion. Nara had always been so kind, so generous. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t want to impose…”

“Impose? Are you kidding?” Nara cut me off, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re not imposing at all. I’d love to have you. It’s been way too long since we’ve hung out.”

I smiled, feeling a bit of the weight lift off my shoulders. “Are you sure, Nara? I didn't contact you for this reason, you know.”

Nara grinned. “Of course I'm sure. Don't worry about it. Now, where are you exactly? I’ll come get you.”

Just as I was about to respond, my phone slipped from my hand, tilting the camera down for a brief moment. Nara’s eyes narrowed in curiosity as she caught a glimpse of my outfit. “Wait… Orla, are you wearing a wedding dress?”

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly adjusted the phone, but the damage was done. The overwhelming emotions I’d been holding back all day surged to the surface, and I felt my eyes well up with tears.

Nara’s expression softened instantly. “Orla… what happened?”

I shook my head, trying to keep it together. “Like I said… it’s a long story. I didn’t want to burden you with it.”

“Burden me? Orla, we're friends. You'd never be burden. And whatever it is that happened I'm sure you'll tell me all about it. Are you at the airport? I’ll be there in half an hour, okay?”

“No, really, Nara, it’s not necessary. I can handle myself—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Nara interrupted. “You’re staying with me, and that’s final.”

I couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude and guilt wash over me. Nara had always been such a good friend, and here she was, ready to help without a second thought, even after all this time. “Thank you, Nara. I don’t deserve you.”

“None of that,” Nara replied, her voice softening. “I’m just glad we’re reconnecting. We’ll catch up and figure everything out together, okay?”

I nodded, trying to smile through the tears. “Okay. I’ll be here in Terminal 1.”

As the call ended, I couldn’t help but curse myself for not keeping in touch with her over the years. She was exactly the kind of friend I needed right now, and I was beyond grateful that she hadn’t hesitated to be there for me.