Chapter 3.2

Chapter 3.2

During her school days, she often got in trouble at the start of new semesters for her wavy brown hair, accused of perming or dyeing it. Each time, her older sister had to be called to explain.

But it was unfair.

Her deceased parents and her three sisters, including herself, were all pure Koreans. During her adolescence, Miran even wondered if she was adopted, but she dismissed the thought.

She bore a lot of resemblance to her sisters, and with three older sisters, it seemed unlikely they would adopt another daughter instead of a son.

“I should’ve entered the Miss Korea pageant.”

Miran finger-combed her naturally wavy hair, puffing it up like a beauty pageant hairstyle. Every time she went to the salon, the stylist suggested entering beauty pageants as an easy way to become a celebrity.

The problem was the preparation cost, which ran into tens of millions of won, even at a discount. If she were sure of winning, she would take out a loan, but she couldn’t afford to spend that much on an uncertain chance.

The door of the fortune-telling cafe jingled open, snapping Miran out of her thoughts. Jieun stood at the entrance, scanning the cafe. She wore a tight-fitting polo crop top exposing her midriff, a flouncy floral miniskirt, and rugged boots up to her calves.

Spotting Miran, Jieun rushed over and plopped down across from her. Her lips were blue as if she had been holding her breath while running.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

“…Unni, are you sick? What’s with your lips?”

“Huh? No.”

“Don’t tell me that’s lipstick?”

Jieun ordered a cherry-flavored cola from the approaching waiter and pulled out a compact mirror from her handbag, puckering her lips like a fish. The lip liner extended beyond her lips, filled in with a blue hue that shimmered with a silver gloss. It was indeed lipstick.

“Who advertised that? ‘Woman Like Oxygen*’?”

*The Mamonde advertisement that catapulted Lee Young-ae to stardom. “Woman like oxygen” was aimed at women in their 20s, and it was a great success. Watch the advertisement on youtube here.

“Mystic Purple was last year. It’s out of style now.”

“Then what is it? Daseul’s lipstick?”

“Yeah. ‘Ice Ice Smoking.’ How is it? Isn’t the color killer?”

“…It’s so blue, it’s absurd.”

Jieun glared at Miran for her excessively honest critique.

“How tacky. Do you even know what trends are?”

“Trend or not, your blue lips look like you just ate a Jaws ice cream bar.”

Miran giggled.

“Hey, and you call yourself Generation X?”

“What’s with all this Generation X talk over lipstick? What does that even mean?”

Jieun suddenly pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds from her handbag and tapped it upside down against her palm. When Miran asked why she did that, Jieun explained that she was packing the tobacco leaves closer to the filter for a stronger smoke.

Jieun took out a cigarette, placed the yellow filter between her lips, and flicked open her Zippo lighter with one hand. Tilting her head at an angle, she lit the cigarette with exaggerated flair, taking a deep drag that hollowed out her cheeks.

The tip of the cigarette burned with a bright red ember, making a satisfying sizzle. Jieun half-closed her eyes and exhaled a bluish smoke from one corner of her mouth. She then began to recite dramatically, like a theatrical monologue.

“I am me. I don’t care about others’ opinions. Born to break the old-generation stereotype that lipstick must be bright red. We’re the generation that values individuality! That’s you and me—Generation X.”

Miran shivered and rubbed her arms.

“Why does it suddenly feel so cold? Did they turn on the air conditioner? Ugh, I’m getting goosebumps.”

“Hey!”

Jieun tried to stifle her laughter as she glared at Miran. Just then, a man in his fifties, wearing a checkered cap and a brown argyle vest, approached and sat down on a stool beside their table. He was the fortune teller known as Teacher Yeondam. The smell of cigarettes clung to him.

“Which one of you is going first?”

“Both of us. I want my fortune told. How about you, Unni?”

Miran nodded toward Jieun.

“I want a compatibility reading.”

“Alright! So, who should go first?”

He took a rimless pair of glasses hanging from his vest and placed them on the bridge of his nose, looking alternately at the two through the lenses.

“Please go ahead with her first.”

Jieun graciously gave up her turn to Miran. The fortune teller took a sheet of paper from a file folder and clipped it to the folder.

“Name. Date of birth. City of birth. If you don’t know the date and time according to the lunar calendar, please provide it according to the solar calendar.”

“Kang Miran. March 28, 197X, born at 10 AM.”

Yeondam held the black pen cap in his mouth and swiftly wrote her fortune in elegant strokes on the white paper. After adjusting his glasses on his nose, he capped the pen. Then, he pointed out a few Chinese characters he had scribbled with the edge of his teeth.

“Oh, you have the fortune of flying across the ocean to live abroad. The northeast region of North America is particularly auspicious for you, so study English diligently and prepare to emigrate. You won’t be buried in Korean soil, even if you die.”