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 coffee prince the novel

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jieunmhay
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PostSubject: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:26 am

its nice to read the history of the coffee prince and where did it came from.... ive been reading this even its slightly too long. Very Happy Very Happy
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:30 am




THE 1st Shop of Coffee Prince
Coffee Prince Ilhojeom
By: Seon-mi Lee (Lee Sun mi)
Publisher: Noongwamaum
Hardcover | 415 pages | 223*152mm


A
hit romance novel topping the bestseller chart in Korea as of July
2007. Our beloved Tv series is based from this novel. It's author is
also the main writer of the hit TV series. Smile


Following is the English Translation of the book. Pleass be patient as i can only post so much every online visit.

Enjoy reading!

THE FIRST SHOP OF COFFEE PRINCE




Prologue


An
indigo car of foreign make pulled up in front of the store. Mr. Hong,
who had just opened the cafe, stopped his mopping and watched as a man
in a beige leather jacket stepped out of the car.

"Wouldja take a look at his fashion? And damn, that's a nice car."

He
had just thought to himself that the man couldn't possibly have any
business around here when the man looked toward the store. No, more
like glared at the store. The man looked at the shoddy sign and the
plastic rose-patterned curtains covering the windows and made a face as
if he couldn't believe his eyes.

"What, too tacky for you?"
Mr. Hong's efforts at scowling failed to give the effect of a mean eye.
Time and age had pulled his eyelids down to the effect of a southern
Mongoloid. Like a hush puppy.

"Stop gawking, will ya? Giving me the creeps. Shoo, shoo. I won't sell you no coffee, see if I do."

As
Mr. Hong muttered to himself, the man made a condescending face and
shook his head. His expression near shouted, 'I'd rather drink cheap
vending machine coffee at a bus station than drink the coffee they sell
here.' Even so, the man walked toward the store. He stopped to read the
'Help Wanted' sign posted on the front glass door before stepping in.

You want to work here? You? No way. Not at your age.

"We're
not open yet," —was what Mr. Hong was about to say, but before he had
the chance, he had to squint his eyes. Maybe it was because the man had
his back turned to the sunlight, but it seemed that there was a bright
halo behind the man's head. It was so dazzling that Mr. Hong couldn't
look at him properly. He missed his chance to speak, and before he knew
it, the man had already taken a seat at a table by the window.

"Coffee, please."

"Oh, of course."

It
was reflex. 'Damn it, that's not what I meant to say...' thought Mr.
Hong as he walked into the kitchen. The cuckoo clock hanging on the
wall started chiming. 11 o'clock. Now he couldn't even say that the
store wasn't open yet. After all, the sign on the door did say,
"Opening time: 11 o'clock."

The man was a sophisticated dandy
boy rarely seen in that neighborhood. He was very clean cut and
handsome. Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? He was looking out the window
with his long legs crossed. His facial features were rather sharp and
cold, but he carried a rather swaggering air about him. The fabric of
his pants looked like they were better fit to make women's scarves than
men's pants, and his leather jacket clung to his body as if it were his
skin. Not only that, but the width of the pants at the thighs looked
like they were less than six inches wide. How the hell do his legs fit
through that? What is he, a freak? I don't know what's with the world
these days. You call that a man's leg? Damn pansy.

Mr. Hong moved his chubby roly-poly of a body to serve coffee. He set the cup in front of the dandy boy.

"Enjoy."

Dandy Boy didn't even look up. From up close, he smelled like perfume.

"What
kind of a man..." thought Mr. Hong as he wrinkled his nose. Just then
he felt the man's gaze and flinched. He quickly put on a smile, but
Dandy Boy was looking past him toward the back. He was looking at the
kitchen, the wall, the floor. He made the same expression as when he
was outside the store.

What is this, a pigpen? A stable? was
what his eyes said. So what? What's it to you? Stop gawking, boy. If
you're a customer, just act like one and drink your coffee and get out
of here. What do you think you're doing, gaping around here like that?
Hey! Who do you think you are, to give me a once-over? I'm the owner!
What do you keep staring for? What, you like my style, do ya?

Mr.
Hong was brought out of his silent and petulant reverie by something
that sparkled. Around one of Dandy Boy's hands, the one stretched out
to lift the cup, was a shining watch. Mr. Hong, who had planned to go
back to the kitchen, approached the man as if pulled toward him by some
force.

"Uh... It doesn't... seem... like you're from around... here... ..."

The
watch, which emanated a white gold light, was of famous Swiss make. Mr.
Hong recognized the brand, even though he'd only ever heard about. Mr.
Hong couldn't help but be a bit humbled.

"Did you come here to meet someone?"

"Yes. Aren't there any other employees?" asked Dandy Boy, turning the cup with the edge of his fingers.

"Oh, yea, there was, but he quit some time ago. That's why the sign's up over there. Looking for a part-timer."

By
"some time ago," Mr. Hong meant eight months ago. There was a
part-timer who ended up quitting because business was so bad. In fact,
business was so bad that Mr. Hong could work all by himself and still
have time left to kill, and it was difficult anyhow just to pay the
rent. So he put the store on the market, but there had only been dead
silence for two months. Finally, a few days ago, someone had claimed
the store and signed the contract, but Mr. Hong hadn't yet told this to
his family.

Roadside snack wagon, my ass. In all 39 years of my life, I've never done anything else but sell coffee.

"So, you clean the store, make the coffee, serve the coffee, and receive the money? All by yourself?"

"I've got to. What else could I do? Do you know how hard it is to find a hard-working, honest part-timer these days?"

"You're quite the multi-tasker."

"Ha ha, I do have quite a variety of talents," laughed Mr. Hong awkwardly.

"So, did you study coffee-making somewhere?"

What, you need a certificate to make coffee?

"I
didn't study it anywhere, but I do have a lot of experience. I worked
part-time at a coffee shop all through college. It's more familiar to
me than my major was. Ha ha."

"How long have you had this store?"

"Third year this year. Location's not too good."

"So
you knew that. Location's not the only thing at fault, though, is it?
What was that idiom about the carpenter blaming his chisel..."

The hell are you saying, boy?

"I passed some pretty big buildings on my way here."

"Yea,
last year some banks and stock companies set up shop around here. But
what good did that do? That Bucks and Seattle there killed the field.
Not only that, but that huge supermarket just totally shat on the small
businesses nearby. See, this is what's wrong with our country.
Shouldn't the people support small businesses first? Only then can the
commoners' economy thrive, and only when the commoners' economy thrives
can our national soccer team make it to the Sweet Sixteen, don't you
think so? After all, the most important body part, be it man or
country, is the lower back, don't you think? Ha ha ha!"

Dandy Boy did not laugh. Mr. Hong was embarrassed.

Dandy
turned the cup another revolution with his fingertips, then inspected
the saucer, the coaster, the teaspoon, and the cubed sugar by turn.
Then, he lifted his cup as if sampling wine. Mr. Hong killed his
breath, nervous for some reason. He didn't know why his chest felt like
it was shrinking into itself. He found himself staring at Dandy Boy's
lips. He knew it was strange to stare, but he couldn't tear his gaze
away. Dandy Boy was barely wetting his lips with the coffee.

Mr.
Hong wanted to ask, "How do you like it?" but the words crawled back
down his throat. Dandy was wincing. He took it away from his lips and
then tried another small gulp, and then slammed the cup down on the
table as if he never wanted to see it again.

What the hell's the matter with you?

Mr. Hong started to get pissed. If nothing else, he prided himself on brewing a decent cup of coffee.

"Does the flavor not agree with your?" Mr. Hong forced a smile.

"Tastes like boiled maple leaves."

"Huh?"

"I
suppose if you boil them long enough, it'd turn this color, right?"
said Dandy Boy with no expression. That pissed Mr. Hong off even more.
Just then the door was flung open.
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:32 am

"Ahjussi! Have you seen En Se?" The kid who had run in gasping and sweating was En Chan.

"Haven't seen her. Why?"

"Ah, damn it! I'm gonna go crazy! Where the hell is this damn girl hiding? You sure she didn't come here?"

"Why are you lookin' for En Se here? What, you think this is some kind
of youth protection center or somethin'?" snapped Mr. Hong, who was
still pissed off. But En Chan was too excited to notice his ill mood.

"Aaargh! Stupid kid. Where the hell am I going to find her?"

"What is it this time?"

"She skipped class to go to some kind of audition. Goddamn it! Just you
get caught! I'll introduce her face to the toilet!" The kid's voice
rang like a construction site overseer's after one too many drinks.
"That reckless kid even ran off with a teacher's shoes! She's saying
she only borrowed it, but who'll believe that? If you run off with
something without telling, that's stealing. She's gonna learn a lesson
this time!"

"Yea, well, the whole world knows if Ko En Se's got anything, she's got guts."

"Damn, where does she come from anyway! I mean, I know it's pretty
strange that I myself came out of my mother's womb, but it's a damn
world wonder that she did. If she wants something, she just loses her
mind. Even so, sneaking into the teacher's lounge to take a teacher's
shoes.... Damn!"

Mr. Hong was getting swept away by En Chan's excitement.

"Why don't you try going to the place where the auditions are? Wouldn't she be there?"

"I just came from there! Grrr!!!" En Chan stomped inside the store
wearing a jumper over a Taekwondo practice suit. Even though it was
almost March, it was still snowing in the early hours of the morning,
and the wind was chilly. Even so, En Chan's forehead was shining with
sweat. En Chan bent down to the faucet and drank the water straight
from the tap. After gulping it down and burping, En Chan hand went up
to wipe the mouth.

"Her audition number was 1 so she went
first. Apparenly, it was a total shit-show. I have no idea why that kid
who sings perfectly fine at home always messes up at auditions. It
sounds like she's chanting Buddhist mantras or something. They said she
gave up halfway through and ran out in despair. Her friend ran to get
her, but couldn't find her."

"She's a real handful, that one."

"Anyway, if you see her, hit me up right away. Even if you have to break her legs, keep her here, ok?"

"Well, I don't know if I'll be able to restrain her, but I'll try."

"Ok, thanks." En Chan ran out before Mr. Hong could even respond. Even
after En Chan's departure, the store vibrated with the energy and
excitement En Chan had brought in.

"That kid...." Mr. Hong
knew that behind those tough words, En Chan cared about En Se, and that
that was the reason behind the frantic search. Wanting to be of some
help, Mr. Hong considered calling up the PC Cafe En Se frequented. But
then again, En Chan had probably checked there, too.... Suddenly the
door flung open again.

"Hey, mister, you were looking for a part-timer?" Mr. Hong looked at En Chan, who he thought had already left."

"Huh? Oh... yea...."

"You should've told me earlier! Didn't you know I was looking for a part-time job?"

Suddenly, color began to circulate in En Chan's face. Black eyes
twinkled in a white face. En Chan's attitude was tough and reckless,
sure, but En Chan's face, at least, was that of a total pretty boy.
There wasn't a single girl in the neighborhood schools who didn't know
about Ko En Chan. They would crowd around the Taekwondo dojo door, even
taking numbers just to get a glimpse. The kid's popularity bordered on
ridiculousness.

"What's this? What's up with these
qualifications? ' 5'9'' minimum height '? hmm... close 'nuff. Still
growing, you see. I haven't checked recently, but I'm probably
somewhere around 5'8''. It's ok if I round up, right?"

"Uh, yea. Listen—"

" 'Hot bods, hot faces, welcome.' " En Chan's face rotated under Mr.
Hong's eyes as if they were cameras. "You have heard, I presume, that I
was voted Hottest Face nine weeks straight on some website, right?"

"I have heard that, yes."

"You've heard it because it's true. Even if it was three years ago." En
Chan kept reading the advertisement posted on the glass door line by
line.

" 'Killer smiles, angelic smiles, welcome.' That's
easy. Next. ' Popular with older women, welcome welcome welcome' Check.
Ha ha, what is this? 'Must have special talent,' 'Must not have
girlfriend,'? What's the point in being so picky? Hey mister, you
setting up a talent agency? You trying to raise yourself some
celebrities?"

"N-no... It's not like that..."

Actually, the content of the ad had been sent to Mr. Hong via e-mail
from the new owner of the store. En Chan incredulously read off the
list of qualifications. When he had first received it, Mr. Hong had
been just as flabbergasted as En Chan was right now. He had also
thought the same thing.

What is this, a talent agency?

"Five dollars an hour. Wh-what? Really? Lunch, dinner, AND five bucks
an hour? Woah! That's, like, twice what I get now! Mister, hire me,
will you? I'll start tomorrow, even! Please? Please?"

"Hey hey hey, take a closer look there. Only hiring me- "

"In other words, I've gotta be a total stud. Hmm... This job was made for me."

Mr. Hong was at a loss for words. It said on the ad in black and white
that the new owner was only looking for men. Did En Chan never look in
the mirror after taking a bath? It was almost sad how a twenty-four
year-old girl could still be so confused about her own identity. It
might even be that she really thought she was a man.

"Business must sure be pretty bad, huh? You're starting to use some strange methods."

"That's not my ad."

"Huh? Then whose it is? A different store?" En Chan suddenly gave Mr.
Hong a piercing stare as she sidled up to him. She squinted her eyes
and whispered, "A host bar, perhaps?"

"Hey, don't go spouting nonsense. Do they give out five an hour at a host bar?"

"Well, I meant, you know, five an hour as a cover, you know? As in, not including tips..."

"Why, would you rather work at a host bar?" a snide voice chimed in.
Startled, Mr. Hong and En Chan's heads snapped up and turned toward the
Dandy Boy. He was arrogantly lounging in the chair. He uncrossed his
legs and stood up. He straightened his body as if to reinforce his
height and walked toward them.
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:33 am


"Aa....aaaarrggh!!!" En Chan suddenly roared like King Kong, and Mr.
Hong, whose ear had unfortunately been directly under her mouth, fell
backwards onto his rear. His heart pounded and his ears rang. A pallid
En Chan was staring at the Dandy Boy. Then she said incredulously,

"P-pervert c-cabbage slug man?" Dandy Boy's eyes suddenly grew violent.
Then, with an expression that could not be distinguished between a
sneer and a glare, he came toward her.

"What's with the practice suit? Are you demonstrating your 'superior physical strength' in street shows these days?"

"What? You son of a--"

"Or is that a flunky uniform?"

En Chan's two clenched fist came up. Twin fires burned in her eyes, and
it seemed she would kick out with her foot at any second. Even Mr. Hong
could understand why.

How dare he call the dignified suit of a Taekwondo master a flunky uniform? That man sure has a way with words.

"Ha, pretty cute, aren't you? Your form's not bad, either."

"Whatever are you doing here, young master, sir? Don't your holy feet
hurt if they walk on such crude and un-carpeted floors?" sneered En
Chan. The man didn't blink an eye at this un-En Chan-like behavior.

"It's all right, I'm wearing particularly excellent shoes. Shoes so
expensive you probably couldn't own them if you died and came back to
life. But shoes aside, you've been glaring at me for some time now.
Hey, kid, relax those eyes, why don't you?"

"You got a problem? You want to go?"

"Go? Go where? The market? The playground? Don't fool yourself, kid. If
you want to get a part-time job, you'd better fix those eyes, you
little leech."

"What!"

Dandy Boy sneered and turned to Mr. Hong.

"I'm Choi Han Kyul. I signed the contract a few days ago."

"Oh... yes...." Mr. Hong found himself shaking hands with the man. Then
it finally hit him as he watched Dandy Boy walk toward the kitchen. The
name that the man who had come to sign the contract in the owner's
stead had written was Choi Han Kyul.

"What? What's up with this, mister? What's that pervert cabbage slug saying?"

"Huh? Oh, yea... I think he's saying he's the owner of this store..."

"Whaaat? Ha! What a riot. That idiot's probably still experiencing jet lag or something."

"Well, I did sell the store."

"M-mister!! You're kidding... right?!??"
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:34 am


CHAPTER ONE
One Month Earlier: En Chan's 25th Hour




Part 1 – En Chan Buys Meat



Flowers are flowers and trees are trees, but this is pretty confusing. Are you a flower or a tree?

En
Chan was gazing intently through the glass window at a painting.
Sunflowers were standing in two neat rows, and a mother and child were
walking between them holding hands.

You know, I've already
counted all of you seven years ago. There's seventy-two of you guys.
But is that seventy-two flowers or seventy-two trees? That's what so
confusing.

There was a loud clanking sound. The meat shop had finally opened its doors.

“Heyyyy,
Mister Ku, you were there?” wheedled En Chan as she dragged her
flip-flops into the store. The distinct fragrance of a meat shop wafted
into her nose. Drool began to form in her mouth.

En Chan's
eyes darted around as she approached the counter. She kept her gaze,
flashing with greedy lust, glued on the glass cover of the display
counter. The eyes that had rationally appraised the sunflowers were now
emanating a visceral, wild look. As soon as she saw the deep red of the
raw meat, adrenaline began to pump through her veins.

“Did
everything go well? You said you had to take care of something.” The
butcher replied with a sullen look as he continued to sharpen his
knives.

“What was the thing you had to do anyway?”

“....”

“It seems like the bacon meat's not selling well these days, huh mister?”

En
Chan is, as some would say, a pork maniac. Just by looking at raw meat,
she could see images of their respective dishes in her head. Pork
cutlet, salty boiled pork, sweet and sour pork in orange sauce...
Whenever she looked at pork ribs, she found herself grinding her teeth.
Not only was her appetite strong, but she could also conjure up images
of food in less than a second.

“You want bacon?”

“Naw, just give me some meat off the front legs. I'm going to make kimchee stew.”

The
kimchee stew was, in fact, already boiling in En Chan's head. The
proportionally cut kimchee, the pork meat with just the right amount of
fat attached, all of this went into a thick broth and merrily bubbled
and simmered. En Chan, who was swallowing the saliva that had been
building up in her mouth, noticed that something was off-kilter and
raised her head. Mr. Ku was being too quiet. He was sitting on the edge
of the room's threshold staring blankly at the meat in the glass
display case. She studied his round meatball face. He looked deflated
and shriveled. A bruised meatball, then.

“Hey, mister, what's the matter? Did something happen?”

Mr. Ku, who had been staring vacantly at the meat replied in a tired voice.

“Hey, En Chan, when you look at all this meat, what do you think about?”

“Meat, you say?”

“Yea.”

“What kind of meat? This? The shanks?”

“No, just in general.”

“Beef as well as pork?”

“Stop kidding around and answer the question.”

“Even pig's feet and cow tails?”

“No!
Just, just, meat! Meat in general!” shouted Mr. Ku suddenly. En Chan,
who had been joking around until then threw a startled look at the
butcher. But she soon recovered and jovially said as she smiled,

“Hey, what're you yelling for? Calm down, relax. It's not good for your blood pressure. Look, your face is already turning red.”

“Forget it. Forget it! You haven't got a sincere bone in your body. That's why you're still living like that!”

“Hey, don't get all sulky now. What's the matter? Did swine cholera break out somewhere again?”

“I said drop it. What could I possibly talk to you about? Just drop it.”

“Tsk tsk, let's not get all shy and sulky. Just tell me what's the matter.”

“You're not understanding what I'm saying is the matter! Just meat! Meat in general! MEAT!”

“Yea, meat! That's why I asked earlier. What kind of meat? Sirloin or ribs? I've gotta know if I'm gonna answer.”

“Arrrgh!”
An incensed Mr. Ku started pulling out the meat platters from the
display case and slamming them onto the counter top. The perky meat
danced and jiggled on top of the trays. En Chan was dumbstruck. As she
watched, she began to get heated as well. What the hell is this guy
doing?

“If I say meat in general, you should understand that I'm
saying meat in general! Hind legs are meat too, aren't they? Who says
only sirloin and ribs are meat!” Mr. Ku began to stab the sirloin and
ribs with his fingers. And every time he did, En Chan's eyes grew wider
and wider and her breath grew more and more ragged.

This guy
is going too far! Why's he ruining perfectly good meat?! Who's gonna
eat that?! Those dirty fingernails went in nearly all the way! How was
he going to sell THAT?

Then a thought came to her that brought her peace immediately.

He
can't sell it. If he does, he's got no conscience. But, it'd be a shame
to throw it out, so if he asks me to, I could bring myself to take it.
It'd probably be all right if I grill it. But still! What's the big
idea, abusing meat that so reverently offered itself up to be eaten?

“No
matter how expensive, Hanwoo brand beef is still the same meat, and
so's Kobe beef! Do you get it, kid? Now, I'm asking you, what do you
think about when you see this meat?!”

“Meat is meat. What is there to think about?”

“Of course there there's something to think about, you idiot!”

“I-idiot?”
En Chan was momentarily incensed. “Hey! Who you calling idiot? When I
look at meat, all I can think about it how much I want to eat it. What
else is there to think about, huh?”

“Wow, for a girl, you've got no emotions, have you?”

“What does this have to do with being a girl? You dried up old geezer bachelor!”

“You little pig! You got a problem with that? You got a problem with me being an old geezer bachelor?”

“Right back at you! You got a problem with me being born a girl?”

“You're a girl who can't even stand up for herself when people call you a guy, you moron.”

“It
gets tiring after a while, all right? It's not like it happens just
once or twice, it's every day! Having to explain every single time....
Damn it! You know what I mean! What's wrong with you?”

“You secretly enjoy it, don't you.”

“What? Secretly enjoy what?”

“You
secretly enjoy people mistaking you for a guy. When screaming middle
and high-school girls surround you and snap away with their cameras, it
makes you feel good, doesn't it?”

“Hey, listen, mister, I'm no pervert! You old fart, what do you think you're doing, pouring salt on the wound?”

“Old fart? Fine, you want it to go that way, do you, huh?!”

“I
don't know where you got screwed or who you got screwed by, but why are
you taking your anger out on me, huh? What am I, your punching bag? You
always take it out on me.”

“And what, I can't get angry? I can't
get mad just because I'm a good-for-nothing who failed the Shinchon
Literary Exam fourteen times?”

“What, are you proud of having
failed fourteen....” En Chan trailed off. Fourteen? Oh... just
yesterday the number had been thirteen! Ah. So that's why Mr. Ku's face
looked like it was about to explode.

“They... announced the results, ey?” Tsk tsk, guess he failed it again.

“The
dream I had was spot on. A few nights ago I dreamed that I was trapped
and suffocating beneath a milk cow. The cow was suffocating me with her
udders and she kept saying, 'Cut me, why don't you. Just try and cut
me.' I kept struggling because I felt like I was going to pass out and
die, but the next moment, I realized I was trying to cut the cow from
underneath it.” Mr. Ku set the pork front leg on the chopping board and
began to cut it into large pieces. “But this stupid knife wouldn't
listen. It just kept kneading at the cow's skin as if it was sawing
away at it or something. And the cow laughed. It laughed and kept
saying, 'Cut me. Try and cut me.'”

“Must've been pretty nice, though.”

“What must've been pretty nice?”

“You like udders, don't you? Nice, big 'udders'.”

“Why you little—!”

“I
know you have pictures of 'udders' posted on your bedroom wall. I mean,
I can understand your liking them, but that calendar's from 1999,
mister. How can you still have it up?”

“What, do you think I
leave it up because of the picture? I left it up because that's the
month my parents died. That's your problem. Even though you're a girl,
your mind's a gutter. I don't know how you think you're qualified to
teach children. If I ever have a kid, I'd never leave him under your
care.”

“Ha, get married first, then talk.”

“You can have kids without getting married, you brat.”

“How? Adoption?”

“That's not what I... Whatever, talking to you makes me dizzy. Where was I?”

“The stupid dream.”

“Damn
bastards. What do they know, huh? All judges are the same, you know
that? The literary world is rotten to the core. It's just a playground
for inbred idiots.”

“Yea. Rotten to the core. Totally,” En Chan
agreed emptily, but her gaze was fixed on the chopping board. The
number of meat pieces was growing. What was he trying to do, make meat
hash?

“What's in a poem? Emotion. Impression. You should calmly
relish each verse, and take into account even each blank space. And
you've got to read it all the way so that you can enjoy the exquisite
thrill of the twist at the end. These bastards only read the title and
the first one or two lines and then throw it out. They don't take the
duty of judging seriously enough. What does it matter if you're a
famous poet or novelist if you don't know how to appreciate real art?”

“What was the title this time?”


'The Infinite Hexahedron of Raw Meat'. The dripping blood, the
glutinous meat, the white fat, the thick sap hidden in the hard bones.
The life of the butcher who cuts this piece of raw meat into a
hexahedron, his joys and sorrows, his solitude. My poem was soaked in
these things.

“Is that why you kept asking me what I thought when I looked at meat?”

“Yea.
When I look at all this meat....” Mr. Ku let out a deep sigh and picked
up the knife that he had put down in his excitement. En Chan couldn't
help wishing he'd notice how thin the pieces had already become.

“Meat,
to me, if life itself. A love-hate relationship I couldn't let go of
even if I wanted to. How could they not understand that profoundness?”

“Guess they must be vegetarians or something.”

“What?”

“You
know, the judges might be vegetarians or something. Eating healthy's
the new fad, you know?” Nonplussed, Mr. Ku stood stock still with his
knife in midair. En Chan took this chance to rescue the meat.

“Eating... healthy?”

“Yea.
That's why these days vegetables are more expensive than meat. Didn't
you know?” She held out a fiver to pay for the meat that was now too
absurdly thin to use for stew.

“Forget it.”

“What? Why?”

Mr. Ku went back into his room with a blank stare.

What
is he getting all shocked for just because I suggested that the judges
might be vegetarians? I was just saying it was possible.
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:35 am

Part 2 - Go, Tae Kwon V, Go!



The
building En Chan works in is four stories high. She works on the second
floor, at the DongMoon Taekwondo dojo. The entrance is a small door on
the left side of the building. The stairs are so small and cramped that
an adult standing up straight would take up the whole of its space, and
the floor is dusty. There's graffiti on a picture frame that is hanging
on a cracking wall. Half of the frame's glass has been broken and
hastily taped. In the frame is a picture of the dojo's students who had
won medals in some competition. The students are smiling widely, floral
wreaths around their necks. The dojo master is standing with a reserved
look on his face. In every other picture, the student with the medal is
a different boy or girl, but the look on the dojo master's face is
changeless. Even now, after so many years, it has not changed.

En
Chan picked up a gum wrapper that had fallen on the floor and then
fixed the crooked picture frame. She flew over the last three steps and
stepped into the dojo.

“Master!”

“Yea?” As soon as she stepped in, a kid came to tell on someone.

“Seung Kyung brought Simba with her.”

En
Chan left the plastic bag of pork on top of the desk and looked around.
Seung Kyung was standing with a small poodle in her arms. The other
children surrounded her like an courtroom audience waiting to hear En
Chan's verdict.

“Why are you guys still here? If you're done with practice you should go home.”

“We were gonna eat pizza. Why, is that illegal or something?” challenged Bong Tae Won.

Dear God, when is that little brat gonna get past puberty?

“Seung
Kyung ordered pizza. She ordered yours, too, Master. Your mother's not
home today, right? Seung Kyung's mother went somewhere today, too.” The
speaker of this breathless explanation was the little girl named Yun
Jung who had come to tell on Seung Kyung about Simba.

“Hey, I already told you, she didn't just go 'somewhere,' she went to go see a 'musical'.”

“Oh yea, musical.” Seung Kyung rolled her eyes at Yun Jung but the latter didn't seem to care.

“I
felt bad for Simba because he was going to be home alone. I can play
with him here until Mom comes to pick me up, right?” Even if she spoke
more nicely than Bong Tae Won, there was definitely an arrogant air in
her tone. What in the world is with kids today. Why should I feel
intimidated by a twelve year-old girl? And En Chan couldn't even say,
“How could you even think of bringing a dog into this sacred dojo?” to
these kids because they were the ones who were bringing in the money.

“You'll only have 30 minutes. It's almost time for the next group's practice.”

“30 minutes is enough. The pizzas will be here soon. I ordered your favorite— bulgogi pizza.”

En
Chan's eyes suddenly flashed. Ohhhh, yes! Bulgogi! But she tried her
best to act aloof. She started rummaging around the desk drawers.

“Y-you guys eat...”

“Hey Seung Kyung, can Simba eat this?”

“Yea, whatever.”

The
children were tempting Simba with a sausage. En Chan didn't yell at the
children even though they were running around the wooden dojo floor
with the dog. Usually, she would've screamed, “Hey! Knock it off!” but
right now she was looking at the children with hazy eyes and saliva
filling up in her mouth. Seung Kyung was looking up at En Chan with
rapture in her eyes, and Tae Won was furiously glaring at En Chan. The
two were rising sixth graders this year, and they fought and played
like Tom and Jerry. Since Tae Won enrolled after Seung Kyung did, did
that make him Tom? And En Chan is the cheese, the center of the
trouble.

En Chan couldn't think of anything but dinner. She
would leave the next group's practice to the dojo Master and go
upstairs to her house on the roof to eat. Excellent plan.

And
she'd eat pizza beforehand. Then the main course, the kimchee stew with
rice, and then Mom's Pretty Pretty Salad for desert. Heh heh heh.

“Master, you're drooling,” said Seung Kyung.

“Huh?
Oh...” En Chan gave a sheepish grin and wiped the saliva with her
sleeve. Tae Won made a face as if to say, 'that's disgusting,' but
Seung Kyung watched even this action with admiration.

“Master, did you read the e-mail I sent you?”

“You
sent me an e-mail? I haven't read it yet...” En Chan wasn't too
friendly with the computer. Come to think of it, she couldn't exactly
remember her own e-mail address. It looked like it would be an awkward
situation, but En Chan reached for the computer on the desk anyway with
a forced smile.

“Sh-shall I take a look? What kind of e-mail could Seung Kyung have sent me?”

“No!
No!” Seung Kyung flew to the computer and turned it off. She blocked
the monitor with a face that was blushing furiously and glanced
nervously at Tae Won.

“R-read it later. Oh, hey! Look! Pizza's
here!” Seung Kyung skitted off and opened her pink wallet. En Chan
couldn't bring herself to watch a disciple pay, so she pretended to be
busy doing other things. In the middle of this act, she made eye
contact with Tae Won who had been watching her.

“What?”

Tae Won gave her a look of exasperation and took off.

“That brat...”

“Master, come quickly and eat!”

“Oh, y-yea, yea, let me just.. finish this. Go ahead, eat.”

I
can't just dive right in. I've got my pride as a master. She kept
rummaging through the desk. But her charade didn't last longer than a
few seconds. The fragrance of the pizza had come wafting into her nose.
Not only that, but the children were eating so avidly and with such
delightfully slurpy gusto that En Chan felt her ears would soon start
drooling as well.

“M-maybe I'll try a piece,” she muttered to herself as she headed toward the children.

“Here, master,” said Seung Kyung, handing En Chan a piece she had saved especially for her. This kid was too cute.

It was right then when Tae Won said,

“Master, phone.”

“Huh?” Tae Won was pointing at the desk. Not even with his fingers, but with his chin.

En
Chan, whose five sense had been totally enraptured in the pizza, only
just then heard her cell phone ring. Damn it! Who the hell was it? En
Chan was not just a little pissed, but there was nothing to do but pick
up the phone she had left on the desk.

“Hello?”

“Obba,
it's me.” (translator's note: Korean females use the familiar title
“obba” to refer to older males.) Sparks flew from En Chan's eyes. Who
was this prank-calling wench?! The “obba” gave it away. All throughout
middle school and high school, En Chan had been chased incessantly by
hormone-driven juniors with confused sexual identities, and they had
all called her “obba.” Even some girls in the same grade used to pant
after her calling, 'obba, obba'.

And they still haven't recovered from their delusion?!

“You've got the wrong number.” She was just about to hang up when a panicked voice said,

“Obba, it's me! En Se.”

“I can't talk right now.”

“Why?”

Why? I'll tell you why, I was just about to....

Seung
Kyung was holding out a huge slice of pizza and motioning to En Chan to
come and eat it. En Chan beamed at her and nodded her head.

“I'm busy right now so call me later. I'm gonna hang up now.”

“Obba, I'm in trouble! Some punk keeps bothering me.”

“What?” The pizza left En Chan's head. “What punk?!”

“I keep telling him to go away but he keeps following me. He's in front of me right now. Won't you come and help me, obba?”

“Which son of a— where are you!”

“Coffee Prince.”

The
only people who could drag En Chan away from food were Mom and En Se.
En Se blew her bangs out of her eyes and snatched up her jumper. She
headed toward the exit with the phone against her ear.

“Why
the hell are you hanging out with that kind of bastard?! And what have
you been doing wandering around and not going home?!”

“I kept trying to go home, but this guy....”

“Shut up! I don't want to hear it! You're really gonna get it. Hey, Mr. Hong's there, right?”

“Mr. Hong? Yea. He's watching us from the counter.”

“Then don't move and—”

Suddenly
En Chan's two legs flew through the air (“AARRGH!”) and then she
promptly fell on her ass. The children all stopped eating their pizzas
and turned to look at En Chan. One hand was in her jumper sleeve, the
other, holding the cell phone. One knee was trying to hold her body up
and the other leg was held up high in the air. From the foot of this
leg dropped Simba's brown dung.

F....fu..... aaaack !! I'm going to strangle this dog!

“Obba,
what's the matter? Obba?” En Se's shrill voice spilled out of the
phone. The trophy cabinet began to sway. All eyes went toward the
cabinet as the trophies began to fall. En Chan reflexively put out her
hands.

“Umph!” She'd barely caught the trophy when, just as
she was about to take a sigh of relief, the TaeKwon boy's head fell off
from the top of the trophy and rolled away across the floor. En Chan
gasped. En Chan could hear the children breathing. En Chan could feel
their gazes filled with both anxiety and pity alike.

“When the dojo Master finds out about this...”

“Damn
it...” She had to put the boy's head back on the trophy and then go
wash her feet, but Seung Kyung kept wrapping gauze around her hand.

“Master,
you're bleeding.” It was only a small scratch between the thumb and
index fingers that came from the encounter with the trophy's sharp
edge, but nobody could stop Seung Kyung. “We have to treat it quick. If
we don't, it'll keep bleeding.” Seung Kyung was even on the verge of
tears. A band-aid would've been sufficient. But Seung Kyung kept
wrapping the gauze around and around En Chan's hand. Eventually the
gauze came all the way up to her wrist and it was stiff like a cast.
Even so, En Chan couldn't blame Seung Kyung. She knew the girl hated
the sight of blood. En Chan was very much aware of the fact that Seung
Kyung had lost her little brother in a car accident. And also of the
fact that Seung Kyung had been there to witness it.
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:37 am


Part 3 - En Chan Meets the Punk From the Land of the Crows



En Chan arrived with dried saliva on her sleeve and dried dog poo on her pants leg.

“Obba, what's wrong with your hand? Did you get hurt?”

“Ko
En Se, you...” En Chan sometimes has trouble recognizing her little
sister En Se. This is because En Se looks like a totally different
person in the morning on her way to school. There was no doubt in En
Chan's mind that En Se's school uniform was in its usual place: the
subway station lockers.

“Obba, I thought I told you to stop
fighting. You keep getting hurt because you always go around beating up
every punk you see. Give your fist a rest every now and then.” En Se
was being disgustingly sweet. En Chan knew well what the fox of a girl
was up to.

In any case, did anyone have anything to eat?

“What
the hell is this? This is your boyfriend? Ha, that's funny,” said an
insolent voice. En Chan gave a cursory glance at the youth sitting in
front of him. What the! Who is he, a punk from the land of crows
(translator's note: in Korea, they liken people with dark skin to
crows. The punk in this story is a dark-skinned youth; thus, punk from
the land of crows.)? His skin was strikingly dark, and... dear Lord, to
make things worse, his hair was frizzy to the max. That was the kiss of
death.

En Chan couldn't tell whether the youth was shaking his
leg because he was nervous or because he was trying to give off a
tough-guy aura.

“Oh, God...” En Chan couldn't stop herself
from groaning. She was leaning against the chair, but still her entire
body ached. Her head felt like it was splitting apart. A part of the
reason was because of the after effects of the fall, but En Chan was
tired mentally as well. About 3 cm behind her right ear was a hole the
size of a quarter. As she fell on the wooden floor, a piece of gum that
someone had spit out had stuck to her head. Boy, if she ever caught the
brainless halfwit that spit out that gum... but that wasn't the point.
She should've known something bad was going to happen when Tae Won, who
was usually so taciturn, made a fuss waving around a pair of scissors
saying he'd cut her hair for her. As Seung Kyung wrapped her hand in
gauze, Tae Won stood by and cut her hair with a strange look on his
face. Goosebumps had run up and down her entire body as she heard the
snip-snip of the scissors. It was almost like being in a horror movie.
In the end, she had no choice but to borrow the dojo Master's
neighborhood security watch hat that was hanging on the wall.

“Yo,
En Se, you've got to be kidding me. You're dumping me for this wimpy
jerk?” In response to the punk's snide comment, En Se stuck onto En
Chan's side and put her own arm through hers. The boy's eyes grew
fierce. Man, that dark face looks really terrible all twisted like
that.

En Chan blew out a short breath with her mouth as she
looked at the glaring youth. It was her habit to blow her hair out of
her eyes like that. But the hat started to move around, so she pressed
down on it.

“Obba, get rid of him for me. Seriously, I'm about
to go crazy because this kid keeps bothering me. I keep telling him
that I'm dating someone, but he won't believe me.”

So, this
time, En Se wasn't asking En Chan to pretend to be her big brother. She
was asking En Chan to pretend to be her boyfriend. The punk was right.
You've got to be kidding me.

When are you going to grow up, Ko En Se. I'm your freakin' sister!

En Chan couldn't do anything but give out big sighs. Mr. Hong brought her some water.

“What's wrong with your hand? Beaking wooden boards again?”

“Don't worry about it. Hey, mister, is there anything to eat?”

“To eat? Only biscuits. You want that, at least?”

En
Chan sighed. If En Se hadn't made such a fuss about this punk, she
probably would've changed clothes before coming. And eaten the pizza,
of course. Actually, now that she thought about it, the plastic bag
full of pork she'd left on the desk was starting to worry her as well.

“Yea, I'll take that, at least.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Oh,
come on, you know...” En Chan, who had just been about to skip over
drinks to save money, suddenly remembered the fact that a very strange,
very dark youth was sitting in front of her. Eh. He'd probably pay for
it.

“Fresh fruit juice, then. A lot of it.”

“Seems like
something a fruit like you would order. Yo, En Se, are you sure you're
going out with this... thing? What's wrong with you? Didn't this obba
tell you? You shouldn't mess around with poor little kids like him.”

En Se snorted in reply.

“Ha, don't make me laugh. Ya, Hwang Min Dal, who says you're some kind of obba? You're nothing but a lowlife punk.”

“It's not Min Dal, it's Min Yup! Man, how can you say such bitchlike things and still be so freakin' cute?”

Ugh... I'm gonna toss my cookies.

En
Se poked En Chan's side. It was a signal to hurry up and get rid of the
punk. En Chan looked the youth up and down from underneath a hat too
big for its wearer. As soon as Seung Kyung finished wrapping the
bandages she had hastily rubbed her foot on a mop and ran out the door.
She'd come here with only the thought that she had to save En Se, but
now, seeing the so-called “opponent” who now sat across from her, there
was nothing she could do but sigh. He couldn't even be called a punk.
This was the kind of guy who would rip snot-smeared dollar bills off of
elementary school kids on playgrounds. He might talk tough, but En Chan
couldn't see a mean look in his eyes. Of course, he didn't seem to
possess any fighting abilities either.

“Yo, is this thing a middle schooler?” sneered the youth.

“Ya!
You're really starting to piss me off!” En Se had a mean streak
herself. “Who the hell are you to keep referring to him as “this
thing”, huh?”

En Chan didn't really enjoy watching En Se's
mean side, but she was touched by the fact that her sister was standing
up for family. Little brat...

“He's four years older than you! Show some respect!”

“What?
This thing is four is older than me. What do you take me for, huh? You
think I'm blind? This wimp couldn't be any older than, fine, a high
schooler. What, did he tell you he was twenty? You fell for it, stupid!
Hey! You! Listen, you bastard, tell the truth. What's your freakin'
age?”

“This is why I don't like you. Why do you have to look at
everything so negatively? What, you think everyone's just like you?
Just because every time you open your mouth a dirty lie comes out, you
think everyone else does that too? You dirty liar.”

As soon as En Se finished her snide comment, the youth lost it.

“What? You little!”

“What,
what're you going to do if you keep mad dogging me like that? You gonna
hit me? Fine, go head, hit me. Then let's end this once and for all.”

“This is seriously fucked up...”

Is
this how high schoolers talked to each other? What, in the name of
heaven, did she call me out for. It looks like it's something they
could've figured out themselves...

En Chan sunk lower in her
chair, leaning her head against the back of it, waiting for the fresh
fruit juice to come. En Se noticed this and poked her side again.

“Obba,
say something!” En Chan glared furiously at the hat. She caught En
Chan's eyes and sent a message telling her to hurry up.

“Uh.. yea...”

Her throat was cracking. En Chan put her hands on her empty belly and straightened her back.

If
she was going to force me to pretend to be her boyfriend, she could've
at least gotten me something to eat. I can't muster up the energy to go
on. At this rate...

En Chan low voice went even deeper.

“You............ what's your name?”

“What
do you need to know his name for?” En Se said petulantly. En Chan
looked at the youth through the brim of the hat and spoke in an even
deeper voice.

“You like our En Se or something?”

“Obba, why the hell are you asking him that?”

“Your En Se? Does she belong to you or something?”

En
Chan knew that he looked down on her. The first thing was height. En
Chan may have been popular among middle and high school girls, but her
actual physical build couldn't compete with the average guy. At 5'8'',
she was only slightly thicker boned than most girls.

“Listen, kid, you're not understanding what I'm saying. That's not the point. What I'm asking is, do you or do you not...”

Right
then, the fruit juice arrived. En Chan abruptly stopped her sentence
and held out her arm, but it didn't move very well. The bandages were
wound so tightly she couldn't get a good grip. Damn it. With no other
alternative, she held out her other arm. Mr. Hong clucked his tongue.
En Chan immediately gulped it down in one shot. It took less than five
seconds for her to finish an entire glass of fruit juice.

“Aaaahhh.”

“Obba.”

(Burp)

“Ew, that is too gross.”

“Hey,
forget all this crap. Let's just go at it,” said the impatient youth.
En Se's eyes rediscovered their twinkle as she turned to En Chan. Her
eyes pleaded for her sister to “go at it.” There was no doubt that
that's why En Chan had been called out. Sometimes, En Chan wondered if
she such a girl really was her sister. She would put her sister in the
fighting ring and then parade around like the round girl, huh?

En Chan smacked her lips and wiped her mouth. She briefly considered asking for a refill.

“Hey, you deaf? I said, come outside.” The youth threw out this challenge and went outside, but En Chan didn't move.

“What don't you like about him? He's pretty manly, isn't it?”

“Ahjussi!” En Se glared at the owner. But still Mr. Hong continued with an unctuous look on his face,

“Just a few days ago you two walked right by here holding hands. You get sick of him already?”

“I've only just found out his real character.”

“What's his real character like?”

“He's
a total punk. He spits in front of girls, he's got no manners, his
temper's dirty as hell, and he told me he was re-taking a year of high
school after graduating, but it turns out he flunked back down.”

“Ah. So that's the critical blow.”

“Seriously!
He told me he went to an engineering college, but it turns out he's
nothing but a punk at an engineering high school who flunked down.
Total liar!”

“I don't think you're in any position to be talking
about this kid going to an engineering college or an engineering high
school. As if you ever do any studying!” En Se returned to pleading
mode as even En Chan joined in.

“Aw man, can't you talk about stuff like that at home later? I'm really in a bad fix right now!”

“Oh, really? It's tough work, dating, isn't it? I feel sooo bad for you.”

“Studying isn't the issue here! Your little sister is about to be abducted!”

“Abducted shmabducted. He probably couldn't even hurt a fly.”

“You're saying that because you don't know. He tried to take me to his room earlier by force!”

“You
know what's funny? You only consider En Chan your unni (translator's
note: females call familiar older females “unni” in Korea) when you're
in a fix.” Mr. Hong's retort was met with the daggers from En Se's
eyes. “Brr, I'm so scared,” exaggerated Mr. Hong as he hid himself
behind the counter, still smiling.

“Unni, seriously, this is the last time. I'll never ask you to do something like this again.”

En
Chan gave a sigh and looked at En Se. She had asked her to do something
like this around last Christmas. She considered bringing that up. But
then she decided it wouldn't make a difference anyway, and so she asked
a question instead.

“You've got another boy, don't you?”

“No. Seriously, no.”

“Then why do you want to get rid of that guy?”

“So
I can start studying. I'm a senior in high school now. I've really got
to study, you know? If I go to an arts school and study music
seriously, it'll be easier for me to become a singer.”

“Really?”

“I've
got to grow up now. I can't always ask you for money. When I get into
college, I'm going to find work on my own and earn my own spending
money. So, sis, sissy, please, just one more time?”

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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:38 am

En
Chan hadn't expected her sister to say such things. Her nose began to
tingle. She'd never dreamed she'd hear such wonderful words from her
sister. En Chan wanted, like a father would, nothing but for En Se to
grow up healthy and not cause too much trouble. And now she was all
grown up, talking about earning her own spending money... En Chan was
totally touched.

“Hey, what are you saying? You're no trouble to me...”

Right then the youth stuck his head back in and shouted,

“Yo! What are you doing? Come outside! What, you scared, you little wimp?”

“No, I'm just hungry, kid.”

“What?”

“Come inside.”

“Who do you think you are to order me around? Come outside!”

“Sit. Down.”

The
youth surprisingly came back inside and flopped back in his seat,
seething, but without much fuss. It was because he had only just then
noticed En Chan's Taekwondo practice suit. Even though she was wearing
a jumper on top, on the bottom, she was still wearing her suit. The
black belt probably dispelled the idea that she was simply wearing
white pants.

“Listen, kid. This hyung's (translator's note:
Korean males use the familiar title “hyung” to refer to older males)
not in a position to beat anyone up.”

“What the hell is this shithead saying?”

At the curse word, En Chan got angry.

“Watch your mouth! Or I'm gonna rub it down with sandpaper, got it?”

“What? You little bastard!”

“I
said, SHUT UP!” En Chan tried to calm down and speak in a persuasive
tone. “Listen. If I beat you up, I gotta go to the police station, and
if I go to the police station, I won't be able to work, do you get it?
So. Let's solve this a different way.”

“Don't be spouting horse shit. Let's just fight!”

“We can do something you're actually good at.”

“Ha! Trying to be cool, huh? Do you really think I'd lose to you at anything?”

“Oh
yea? Ok.” En Chan raised her head and looked for Mr. Hong. The store
was still empty of customers. Man, business is really bad at this
place. “Mister! Call up Sea King Palace, would you?”

“Hey, just leave it. You're gonna stink up the place.”

“C'mon, it'll be over quick.”

“I don't know. Fine. It's been a while since the last time, so I'll let it go this time, all right?”

“Yes, sir!”

Watching Mr. Hong call the Sea King Palace, En Se muttered discontentedly,

“Why can't you just eat dinner at home?” En Chan ignored her and got in the youth's face.

“Hey... you got money?”

“What, are you going to mug me? You're full of all kinds of crap, huh?”

“We're going to bet on a jja jang myun eating race. Don't you think it's only fair the loser pays for the food?”

“What?
Jja jang myun? What the hell... You little wimphead want to compete
against me in an eating race? Freakin... Fine. I'll give you a break. I
wanted to work up that mug of yours, but I guess you don't want to get
hit, huh? But! Ko En Se, you better not change your tune afterwards.
You promised to be mine if I beat this guy right here right now,
remember?”

“Promise? What promise?”

“Ya!”

“Fine, fine, you lying punk.” She then turned to En Chan and smiled sweetly as she said,

“Wrap it up quickly, obba, ok?”

The
youth looked slightly put off when the ten bowls of jja jang myun
arrived. If he had been able to see En Chan's eyes, which were hidden
under the hat, shine as if they were emitting fluorescent light, he
would probably have been even more disconcerted. After finishing the
first bowl in 13 seconds, En Chan's face was as sunny as an angel's.
She ate with her face nearly shoved into the bowl, but the area around
her mouth was surprisingly clean. To En Chan, jja jang sauce around her
mouth would've been a waste.

Meanwhile, the youth was going
through hell shoving the noodles into his stomach, which had been
significantly shrunken by nervousness and a bit of intimidation. The
game seemed fair until about the third bowl. But by the fourth bowl,
the gap was evident and growing wider by the minute.

“Dog food. Octopus stew. Pizza. Pork porridge.”

The first one to give up or throw up would be proclaimed the loser.

“Margarine.
Cooking oil. Fried pig skin. Ox tail soup,” murmured En Se, who was
sitting with her chin in her hand. The words she threw out so
nonchalantly were truly disgusting.

“Oily chop suey. Smelly cheese. Hard-boiled eggs. Thick, clotted cream.”

En
Se glanced at the two players who were eating like dogs. When En Chan
raised her head after emptying five bowls, the youth was reaching
toward the fifth bowl. His face looked like hell, but it looked like
his insides felt more like hell.

“Mushy Bananas. Sharp strawberry yogurt....”

“Upghrgh!”

It
may have been that En Se had gone too far. The poor youth dashed to the
bathroom with his hand over his mouth. Mr. Hong called after him,

“Hey, be careful not to spill any on the floor.”


"Yes, sir. have a good night!"
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:39 am

Part 4 - 9:55 PM : The Epic of the Ring




En Se ran off, leaving the vomiting youth behind.


“Hey,
Hae Wook, where are you? Are you done with cram school? Uh huh, I'm
nearby right now... Really? Ok, I'll be right there!” After hanging up,
she pranced away with a smile on her face.


“Obba, I'm probably coming home pretty late tonight.”


“Ya! Ko En Se!”


The
punk, spread out on the chair like a wet mop, kept making vomiting
motions like a broken water pump. Still, it couldn't be helped.


After all, En Chan only had a buck fifty in her pocket to call her own.


“Sorry, kid, but a game's a game, right?”


En Chan drank cup after cup of water while the youth, who had become rather pale and haggard, paid for the jja jang myun.


“You want some water, too?” En Chan offered, but the youth only glared at her and left in a huff.


Huh. Guess that did some damage to his pride.


“It doesn't seem like he's a bad kid through and through, though, huh? At least he paid before he left.”


“Yea,
that's true. Oh man, am I full,” En Chan patted her stomach as she
thanked the owner and left the store. It was evening and the
temperature had dropped, and the air was chilly.


Ko En Se, you little hussy. You told me you didn't have a different boy, and see how you run off!


“As
the saying goes, you break your teeth on the tofu you trust. Little
brat,” En Chan muttered to herself as she walked the night streets
alone. “Who's Hae Wook, huh? How many guys is she dating at the same
time, for cryin' out loud?” She entered the market still grumbling. She
was stepping into the building where her roof apartment was when she
heard a thunderous shout.


“Ko En Chan, you little rascal! How dare you leave without even a word!”


“M-m-master....”
The eyebrows of the master who stood in the doorway of the dojo
waggled. Suddenly, the decapitated Tae Kwon boy, the chaotic image of
the children running around eating pizza all came rushing back to her.


“W-well, you see, master, um... I, uh...”


“Hey! Is that my hat? Why are you going around wearing somebody else's neighborhood watch hat?!”


“Ack!” He whipped the hat off of her head.


“You're a really strange one. It doesn't even fit you. Why would you want to wear it around?”


Who said I wanted to wear it around? It's because of the stupid hole in my hair...


It was too dark for the dojo master to tell, but En Chan still self-consciously rubbed at the side of her head.


I
can't believe my head is actually cold because of that little hole. I
wonder what happened to the Tae Kwon boy's head. I sure hope Seung
Kyung put it back on correctly.


“Take this.”


“What is it?”


The dojo master shook the black plastic bag he held in his hand. Oh! My meat! En Chan quickly ran to receive the meat.


“I thought I told you not to go around wearing your practice suit!! You troublemaker!”


“Ow!!” If it came from the dojo master, even a single knuckle sandwich hurt like hell and make her head ring.


“Aiish, Master! What are you trying to do, put a hole in my head?”


“Don't 'aiish' me, you brat! Hurry up and go upstairs. It seemed like your mother was up there alone.”


“Yes, sir.”


“And be sure to lock up tight.”


“Yes, sir. Have a good night!”


“Yea,” said the dojo master as he ruffled En Chan's hair. The place where he had given her a knuckle sandwich still tingled.

ht!”


“Yea,” said the dojo master as he ruffled En Chan's hair. The place where he had given her a knuckle sandwich still tingled.
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:41 am

“Agh,
f....” she climbed the stairs towards her roof apartment. She passed
the PC bang and the pool hall and finally reached the roof. The dojo
master was the one who had arranged a room for them to live in in this
old and decrepit building. It was also the dojo master who had
convinced the building owner to let her family pay only the electricity
and water bills. He had been marine comrades with En Chan's late
father. That was the reason why En Chan's family was always in debt to
the master, for the house, for the job, basically for their livelihood
itself.


“I'm home.”


“Is that my little prince?”


“Did
you have fun at the reunion?” En Chan, who had entered the room, saw
her mother who was lying down with a facial mask on. She was, as usual,
dressed elegantly in a deep plum home dress.


“A face pack as soon as you come home?”


“If
I don't relax my face immediately, it'll get all rough. The wind was so
cold and harsh today, it felt like all of my soft skin was going to
peel off.”


“Oh, come on, aren't you exaggerating a little?”


“I'm serious! Feel it. Here.” She put En Chan's finger under the paper mask so that she could feel the skin underneath.


“Oh wow, it really is pretty rough. Kind of like sandpaper.”


“Oh my God, really?”


“Kidding, kidding!”


“That's mean! I'm upset about it anyway, don't make me feel worse.”


“What kind of mask is it?”


“Moisture
replenishing. Since I can't use better make up, I have to use these
more often. The only reason why my skin is this nice is because I take
good care of it. Whoever heard of a woman who uses cheap forty, fifty
dollar skin lotions like I do having skin this nice? At this age, I
mean.”


“You're absolutely right. Madame Na has million-dollar skin, if nothing.”


“Mm it feels so nice and moist. Did you eat dinner? The salad was still in the fridge.”


“I ate before coming home.”


“What did you eat?”


“Jja jang myun.”


“Darling, I thought Mommy told you not to eat that kind of food made out of flour. It's bad for your skin.”


“It couldn't be helped today. What did you eat, Mom?”


“Italian.”


“Oh, you went to the bistro? Must've been delicious.”


En Chan's mouth forgot about the five bowls of jja jang myun and started excreting saliva again.


“It
was just so-so today though. All my friends said the food tasted great
and ate it all up, but I could tell. I'm pretty sure they changed the
chef. The sauce just didn't taste the same.”


“Yea, you're pretty sensitive to that kind of stuff. So you were pretty disappointed, huh?”


“I just accepted it and ate without complaining. But what's this smell? Something stinks.”


“Something stinks?”


En
Chan, who had been in the process of taking her jumper off, discovered
the brownish yellow stain on the end of her suit top. Oh shit!


“R-really? I-I don't smell anything. What, what kind of sauce was it?”


“Sauce?”


“The, the sauce. Didn't you say it was good the last time you went there?”


“Oh,
saffron foam sauce? I didn't have that today. That's with salmon.....”
And so began the explanation of En Chan's mother, who had attended
professional Italian cooking classes for about five weeks about ten
years ago. En Chan gave a sigh of relief as she changed out of her
Taekwondo clothes. If her neat-freak mother found out, she probably
would've made her change outside.


Simba or Shitba, she wasn't about to let that dog it in the dojo again.


En Chan was furtively rolling up her dojo suit when her mother asked,


“What about about En Se?”


“Sh-she said she's going to be a little late...”


“Again?
What's wrong with that kid? Has she got thorns on her bottom or
something? Why can't she just sit down for a single hour to study?
What's a high school senior doing running around outside and not
studying? For crying out loud. Hand me that phone.”


En Chan
gave her mother the phone and quickly ran to the bathroom. She put the
dojo suit into the washing machine and stepped into the shower. The
boiler was running out of hot water, and she shivered as she washed.
All throughout her shower, she could hear her mother's voice on the
phone. It was apparent by the way her mother's voice grew in volume and
roughness that En Se was not about to listen to her mother.


“Ugh, it's like jumping into a frozen lake.”


The thin trickle of water became colder and colder. She hurried to finish and put her clothes on.


“Ah,
damn it. How am I supposed to cover this up?” said En Chan worriedly as
she dried her hair. She tried to cover the hole with hair, but the
empty space couldn't be hidden.


“Bong Tae Won, you've got some skill with scissors. Stupid kid managed to cut so close to the surface.”


She
had to do something. If she kept it like this... En Chan pulled out the
medicine box from the bathroom counter. She cut a piece of gauze to
about the size of the hole and taped it onto her head. She had no
choice but to go around like this for a while.


En Chan came out of the bathroom when the phone rang.


“Hello? Oh, Dong Ok? Hi~”


En
Chan thought to herself how bright and clear her mother's voice was as
she opened the refrigerator door. Occupying the middle spot of honor
was a fancy bowl covered with plastic wrap. Inside that bowl was a
vegetable assortment the size of a fist, also known as, Pretty Pretty
Salad.


People said that En Chan's mother's cooking skills
could probably get her a job at an elegant restaurant as a chef. So
there was no complaint about the flavor or taste of her cooking. En
Chan didn't have any particular complaints either. The only problem was
the portion. To En Chan, who wrestled and rolled around with children
all day, the portion was pitifully lacking. Her mother couldn't know
this and would often say,


“Oh my, En Chan, if you finish all
of that, you're going to get fat. People have to eat vegetables to be
healthy. Did you know? There's nothing as disgusting as a glutton. Even
though I can't make soybean soup or kimchee stew, I'm excellent at
making things like spaghetti and salads. Not only that, I can bake
cakes and cookies, and what else? Oh yes, seafood risotto, potato
soup...”


Mom's cooking was delicious. The flavor was worth
all the time and money and effort put into making the food. It was just
that En Chan liked traditional Korean chicken broth, bulgogi and
grilled bone ribs.


“What? Ring? What ring?”


Suddenly her mother's voice rose sharply. En Chan covered up the band-aid with her hair and went into the room.


“Oh..........
who did, I did? Who said that? Oh, Jin Hyang......... oh...... oh, no
no no........” Suddenly her mother got up and started pacing the room
restlessly.


“Huh? O-of course. It's, it's safe with me. Uh
huh. Of course.” Her mother, who had just crawled a lap around the
room, started patting and sweeping the floor with her hand. En Chan
looked at her mother, who was wearing an expression as if she'd burst
out crying.


“What's wrong, Mom?”


“O-ok... I-I'll
keep it safe. Huh? Wh-when? F-five days? My, that must be tough.
Anyway, have a good time. Uh huh. Ok. Bye.” As soon as she hung up, she
grabbed En Chan.


“Have you seen a ring?”


“What ring?”


“Did you see one or not? Oh my God, what am I going to do? That ring... that ring...”


“What? What about the ring?”


“I was wearing it, wearing it right here. It's a diamond ring.... It-It's gotta be around here somewhere, right? Right?
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:42 am

CHAPTER TWO

One Month Earlier: Han Kyul's 25th Hour



Part 1 - Dong Yi Group Headquarters





Beyond
the revolving door is the gleaming lobby. It is a dazzling and
extravagant space that is even more magnificent once you step inside.
It is spacious, warm, and clean.


“Welcome, sir. May I help you with anything?”

An amiable voice with a decorous smile. He fancied for a moment that he was still on board the airplane.

“Which floor is the president's office?”

“Are you here to see the president?”

“Haven't you heard that she had a young gigolo? That's me.”

The
employee's well-trained charm broke down momentarily, but she gave a
quick scan of Han Kyul's appearance. A green suede jacket, a long scarf
in lieu of a tie, a pair of grey pants and a hunting cap to match. Han
Kyul scrutinized the woman as well. Especially the area around her
painted red lips.


“Do you... have an appointment?”

“Appointment? Did I? Hmm... I can't recall...”

“Ah, well, in that case, who should I say has come to call?”

“Her exclusive masseuse.”

“Oh...
yes... of course. One moment, please. I'll confirm it immediately.” The
female employee picked up the receiver and turned her body slightly.


“Tell
her if it's not just the two of us, I won't meet,” said Han Kyul to the
employee before he turned and leaned against the information desk to
survey his surroundings. Right then, he heard footsteps. A succession
of men were crossing the lobby and heading towards the elevators. He
could see recognizable faces in his peripheral view.


“Y-yes...... exclusive masseuse...... Ah, yes. I understand.”

Han Kyul asked the female employee who had just hastily replaced the receiver,

“What's today?”

“Excuse me?”

“Old geezers are arriving in flocks.”

“Oh... There's a global management strategy conference today.”

“Here?”

“Yes, in the 11th floor conference room...”

“At 10 o'clock?”

“Yes.”

“Ha!”

It seems I've been played.

“The president's office is on the 23rd floor. If you take a right just after getting off of the elevator, it should be immediately...”

“Miss...”
Han Kyul read her name tag and continued. “Miss Yuh Sun Ae. About 10
minutes from now, there'll be a phone call from the president's office.
When it comes, please relay this message. The exclusive masseuse very
suddenly developed severe finger cramps, so he had to return
immediately. Also, there's absolutely no reason for you to call up
ahead. Now, if you'll excuse me.”


“Ah, excuse me....” Han Kyul swiftly turned his body and escaped out of the lobby.

“You idiot. Can't you recognize bait when you see it? This is what you get for being greedy.”

He
was muttering to himself as he headed toward the basement parking lot
when he heard voices in the stairwell. Great. It had to be faces he
knew. He had no choice but to hide behind the door.


“Should be a sight to see today, huh? A real fireworks show.”

“What's
there to explode? One's fire, one's ice. They're too sly to even rub
against each other. They'll probably just growl at each other for a
while and it'll be over.”


“There's also one other. Han Sung hyung's mother.”

“In that case, a bigger player'll probably step up from this side. Uncle's fire, too. Fire against fire, I suppose.”

“If the representative comes, wouldn't Grandmother come as well? What do you think, hyung? Which side do you think she'd be on?”

“How should I know what she's thinking.”

“There's talk that she's called out Han Kyul. That Grandmother herself did.”

“This
isn't some children's' fistfight. There's no point in increasing the
headcount. The dead man's dead, and there's no law saying the oldest
son has to become the representative. I don't know what the hell
everyone thinks they're doing. If we keep bickering over this we're
going to muck up our family's reputation. It's all so terribly vulgar.”


“If
you think about it from Han Sung hyung's point of view, it's pretty
unfair that he's had his rightful throne taken away from underneath
him. Han Gyu hyung's not going to want to let go of this golden
opportunity as long as he's got his hands on it. Look how he's even
called in Han Kyul. Hey, don't you think if we wait around long enough
our turn'll come too? Don't you think so, hyung?”


“I
don't even want it. As long as some crazy unpredictable frog doesn't
come in and hop around breaking everything, I'll be thankful for that.”



His
cousins' laughter were growing fainter. Even after the laughter had
gone, Han Kyul didn't move. He was standing stiffly and ridiculing
himself for hiding. He finally turned his body. The stairwell was
silent. He took a step down and clenched his fist. Then he cracked a
smile.



Crazy unpredictable frog, huh?


When
Han Kyul entered the parking lot, a white sedan pulled up and parked,
incidentally, right next to Han Kyul's car. Han Kyul, who was taking
out his keys, found himself meeting the eyes of the driver of the white
car.


Goddamn it, what is up today?

“Well, well. If it isn't Han Kyul.”

Han Kyul lightly shook the hand Han Sung offered and said,

“Long time no see. Time hasn't been too kind to you, has it?”

“I'm not even thirty yet.”

“Let
me know when you do turn thirty. I'll set up reservations for you at
Silver Town retirement homes. It's the least I could do for you, hyung.”


“You never change, do you?”

Of
all of Han Kyul's cousins, Han Sung was the one he was most comfortable
with. When Han Sung's father died, it should've changed to be the
opposite, but Han Kyul didn't act uncomfortably around Han Sung. Han
Sung, for his part, treated Han Kyul the same way he had three years
ago. The reason they could treat each other this way as because both
were sure of what they liked and disliked, and never tried too hard to
hide their opinions. In other words, they were the type of
personalities that could argue and fight and still be friends.


“When did you get here?”

“I don't know. A few days ago? A few hours ago? It kind of even feels like I'm still in the plane.”

“Did you come to see Grandmother?”

“What am I, crazy? We live in the same house. Why should I come all the way here just to see her?”

“But you are crazy.”

Han Kyul snorted at Han Sung's sharp joke. Turning his car keys in his hands, he drawled,

“I got hooked.”

“You're telling me there's actually a fishing tackle capable of hooking Choi Han Kyul?”

“Is
Grandma on some kind of program? Her poker face is getting better and
better. A brand new car in exchange for ten minutes teatime with her.”


“Not a bad deal.”


“Well,
I fell for it, hook, line, sinker. Walked right into the tiger's cave,
and discovered that today's the day when all the tigers congregate to
sharpen their claws together. Man oh man, I got so scared that I'm
running away.”


“Is company work really that uninteresting to you?”

“Well,
if it started being interesting, you and the other hyungs' lives will
probably get a lot less interesting, isn't that right?”


“How would someone who does nothing but observe know?”

“I don't want to get in the middle of an old geezers' ball game.”

“You could be a cheerleader at least.”

“What
for? There's so much fun to be had in the world. If you're getting
tired, why don't you take a breather on the bench for a change?”


“I sense thorns in your words.”

“You can pick 'em out and listen or just let it slide out of one ear.”

“Is there no vaccine for your poison? It's getting harsher and harsher.”

“Let it be. There's nothing wrong with passing on after living life this way.”

Han Sung looked at his watch and then picked up his briefcase.

“I've got to go in now.”

“Don't use me as an excuse for being late. Nobody, not Father or Han Gyu hyung, knows I came to the company today.”

“Why don't you see them before you leave?”

“Whatever. Hey, let's get together soon, you, me and the vixen. You do know that we came back together, right?”

Han
Kyul glanced expectantly at his cousin's expression but there was no
change to be found. Grandma's poker face was probably a genetic trait.


“Did you know or didn't you?”

“I don't really care.”

“Ooh, so cold. So they were right when they called you ice.”

“Run along. Once you get over jet lag, give a ring.”

“To who, the vixen?”

“Senseless, silly boy.”

“All
right. Get on with your work.” Han Kyul, who was getting in the car,
waved at Han Sung, who was waiting for the elevator. He muttered to
himself as he drove out of the parking lot,


“What the hell is wrong with the ties on every bloke I see? What, is the company giving them out or something?”
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:43 am

Part 2 - Slept until 5 PM

Slept all day on an empty stomach, but no major problems.



Part 3 - Started drinking at about 7 PM

Met up with some buddies who're comfortable than most because they're not close and got smashed.


Part 4 - The next morning, 10:50 AM: Women Trouble

Han
Kyul, who had been tossing and turning, sat up so abruptly in bed that
his head spun. It felt like there were 20 squirrels runnings on wheels
inside his head. He grabbed his head and flopped back down.


“Ugh....”

Even
his own groaning made his insides rumble. There was a voice coming from
somewhere. It was probably the squirrels, having a conversation.


“My goodness, what's this?”

“Salmon salad.” The female squirrel was asking the questions, the male squirrel was answering.

“Oh, salmon! It looks delicious.”

“Please enjoy yourselves.”

When did squirrels start eating fish? Something smelled good. It wasn't the fish.

“Obba, get up. I ordered room service. Come on, get up and have breakfast.”

Something
get shaking his shoulder. He wrenched an eye open and squinted even
harder when an intense pink light flooded in. As he raised his gaze, he
saw brown hair.


“Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, come on, obba. You want to wash up first? Are you thirsty? I'll bring you some water.”

Han
Kyul, careful not to repeat the same painful mistake, sat up slowly.
His insides burned and his eyelids were heavy. His head was spinning,
so he pressed down hard on his temples. Now there were only 10
squirrels. He carefully turned his aching neck and looked around. A
gold-embossed vanity. An antique style table and sofa, another bed. So
it was his hotel room.


“Obba, here's your water.”

He
saw her face smile amiably as she gave him the glass of water. Yup, he
didn't know her. In any case, he took the water and drank it all off
and then thought hard. Who is this?


“Oh!”

“Do you remember now?”

“You! You ended up—!”

“Good morning~”

What
the hell was with this woman? He pushed away the woman who had tried to
hug him and got out of bed. He stumbled a little because he was dizzy,
but he soon regained his stance.


“What
kind of girl can't understand after I say 'no' so many times, huh?!”
Han Kyul turned around and quickly put on his pants. “Did your eardrums
rot out or did your brain?”


“No matter how much you struggle, we can't change our destiny.”

“What? Desti-what?”

“I knew the moment I saw you, 'This is the one! This person is my destiny!'”

“Huh!”

“I'll be honest with you. I fell in love with you at first sight. I think I'm going to start liking you.”

As
soon as he heard these words, he woke up. The blood in his heart began
to freeze. Even the cute first impression he had had of her was
destroyed. In fact, he now detested her like she was a sworn enemy.


Be
honest with me? What's being honest? The only thing he could honestly
say was that pouring alcohol into an empty stomach made his insides
hurt very much. But emotions were not part of chemistry. There is no
equation for them. You could never tell if they were going to change
because of any little thing or whether they weren't going to change for
anything. You couldn't even know what those “things” were.


“So? So what?”

“Why don't we eat first? Aren't you hungry? I'm hungry.”

Han Kyul coldly brushed off the woman who had come to put her arm through his.

“Ow!”

“I'm pretty sure I've told you about a dozen times not to touch me.”

The woman glared at him while rubbing her arm.

“What
is it you want from me? Why did you ignore me when I said I didn't want
you and harass me all night? What's the reason, huh? Did what I said
mean nothing to you?!”


“Do you really not like me touching you?”

“Do I look like a girl? Saying I don't like it when I really do?”

“Why? Why don't you like it? I've never met a guy who doesn't like women.”

“Well, there's a first time for everything. Now hurry up and get out of my sight before things get ugly.”

Han Kyul, who was on his way to the bathroom, saw that the woman hadn't moved and said,

“Do
you want me to break your body in half? Is that what you want? Just
because I'm your brother's friend, you think that makes me your
jackpot? Or is it money that you need? I don't have any cash, but you
can take my credit card. Here. Do you want it?”


He took out his wallet from his pants pocket.

“Obba, your words are so ugly and mean.”

“You
want me to call Do Hun for you? If you weren't his sister, I would've
tossed you out by your hair a long time ago. I'm tempted to try it and
see if you'll talk about destiny even after that, but I'm gonna pass
for Do Hun's sake. Now, hurry up and get out before I call your
brother.”


“Call him.”

Shockingly,
the girl still stood her ground. Man, this little kid was coming out
strong. What the hell gave this little brat so much confidence? Why
can't you just leave when I tell you nicely?


“What are you going to say to my brother if you call? How are you going to explain me being here?”

Even as Han Kyul's eyes grew colder and colder with hatred, the woman still flounced about like a girl on a spring day picnic.

“Actually,
why don't you call my mother instead? She probably won't be too angry
about the fact that I slept with you. Mother-in-laws are usually pretty
forgiving of their son-in-laws.”


“Did you get high yesterday?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“It's just that I think you're still hallucinating.”

“You're one to talk. You got so smashed you can't even remember anything.”

“Shut your trap.”

Han
Kyul was really pissed. The fact that he was bickering with this brat
of a girl this early in the morning itself was enough to make him
really really pissed.


“Even if you did the limbo naked in front of me, I wouldn't give a shit.”

“I'm sorry, but yesterday was different.”

“What are you, a con artist? Talking about destiny, love at first sight; it's that easy to lie?”

As
if the last shred of her conscience was pricking her, the woman shrank
back a little. She bit her lip and her eyes grew moist. He could tell
what strategy she was aiming for. Heaving a sigh, he said in an even
colder voice,


“I'm
going to tell you one more time, so listen up. If I died and they sent
me to the autopsy room, if the doctor cutting me open is a woman, I'd
probably sit right up. That's just how I am. Do you understand? The
only time I'd ever even touch a woman is if I'm wide awake, and I mean
so wide awake I could thread a noodle through a needle. If I touched
you at all during the night, I will commit suicide right here and right
now. Now, if you've gotten my drift, quietly get out. If you show
yourself to me ever again, I'm going to call your father at his
hospital office. Got it?”


A
tear dropped from her reddened eye. Han Kyul ignored this and went into
the bathroom. He didn't feel anything when he saw women's tears. The
only thing he might feel would be a curiosity as to whether the tear
was meant to be a part of a plan or because she was truly afraid.


“Ugh... my head....”

Goddamn
it! He couldn't remember anything. What if he really hadd touch her?
What the hell was wrong with Do Hun? That bastard couldn't even take
care of his own sister. Damn.


The
more he tried to remember, the more his head throbbed, but he had to
try. What he did remember was that he had left the party early and had
gotten on the elevator. At first, it had been a party with only a few
of his friends. But sometime during the night, the party had grown, and
more and more unfamiliar faces had arrived. Do Hun's sister and her
friend included. As the party ripened, total chaos broke out, and he
kept hearing phrases like, “Hey, leave him. He's going to chew you up
and spit you out like gum,” and “Oi, seriously, don't mess with him.
You're gonna get yourself slapped.” That's when everything became
irritating and annoying. All he could think of was how much he wanted
to sleep when someone came and put her arm through his....


“Man,
if that's not a leech, I don't know what is. How the hell did she
follow me in here? There's no way I would've let her in without a
fuss....”


After
he finished his shower, he put on some cologne and a robe. When he
entered the room drying his hair with a towel, it was empty. He thought
to himself that she had finally left and began to feel relieved when he
heard voices from the living room.


“Where's Choi Han Kyul?”

“May I ask who you are?”

What the hell! Where'd the whiny, crying voice go, and where did this bright and perky voice come from? Damn it!

“Oi!
I can't believe you still can't understand...” Han Kyul stopped in a
middle of a bellow. His mother stood in the living room. He gave a
great big sigh.


“You can leave now, miss.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you must be hard of hearing. Listen, miss. I'm his mother, so I come first. So get out. Do you understand me now?”
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:44 am

“Oh, he-hello, how are you?”

“No use greeting me now.”

“Then... I'll just... be on my way...”

The woman began to back away, face full of defiance. Han Kyul smiled bitterly.

This just kept getting better and better. What rotten luck. Women. The troubles he had with women.

He
detected the fragrance of coffee and headed toward the table. Breakfast
was quickly growing cold. He picked up the coffee cup and looked down
at the bagel before turning his body around.


“O-obba, I'll see you later, then.”

“Wait just a minute there, young lady.”

“Yes?”

“Dear,
won't you check to see if you have all the teaspoons and forks? Make
sure there's nothing missing. Check thoroughly. You don't want to be
the victim of a misunderstanding later, do you?”


“Wh-what? Are you talking to me?”

“No,
I'm talking to my son. My goodness, are you already losing your
hearing? Oh! How dare you glare at an elder like that! Looking like a
hussy.”


Han
Kyul ignored both the red-faced girl who stood in the doorway and his
mother who sat haughtily in her chair and walked to the sofa.


“What the hell! I can't believe this!”

“You've got such awful manners. Speaking of which, let's look inside that purse of yours. Open it up and turn it upside down.”

“Why are you doing this? Are you implying that I've stolen something?”

“You say such strange things. Did I say you stole something? Is that your guilty conscience speaking? Hmm?”

“My God, I can't even believe this shit is happening.”

“You
really shouldn't speak like that in front of elders. Where'd you learn
your manners? (sigh) I shouldn't even bother. Darling, don't hang
around such low class, inferior girls like that again, all right?”


After the door slammed shut, his mother's evil laugh pervaded the air.

“My
goodness, what kind of a idiot is she? Oh, my, what fun.” His mother's
childlike laughter grew louder. Han Kyul winced and when he could no
longer stand the shrillness, he thrust in a question.


“How did you know about me staying here?”

“Why would I not know? I know all about the bars, the salons, the hotels, the saunas that you like to go to.”

“Do
you have to make me into a mama's boy like that? If you left me alone,
I would've gone home by myself. Why do you have to come all the way
here to get me?”


“Do
you know how many words we've spoken to each other since you've come
home after three years abroad? This is the first conversation we've had
since the first evening when we all had dinner together as a family.
Hey, is that coffee? It smells good. Give me a cup.”


Han
Kyul put a bagel and a cup of coffee in front of his mother. On a
finger of the hand that brought the coffee cup to her mouth was an
emerald the size of a fist. There were jewels sparkling on her ears and
neck, too. Han Kyul had never seen any woman with whom such
extravagance was fit so well. When she didn't make herself up, his
mother looked like any other poor woman. Because she understood her own
appearance and aura, she tried her best to make herself up as much as
possible. She dressed herself up like a South American parrot and
pasted on fake eyelashes and wore lots of jewels. And she obviously
believed she sparkled.


“Who was that?”

“Nobody.”

“I trust you because your love life is usually so clean. And even if you had a problem, you wouldn't hide it right?”

“Just state the reason why you're here.”

“Sleep
at home. It's frightening for me, your grandmother and your
sister-in-law to sleep alone. We have two sons, but the company took
one away. If I knew this was going to happen, I would've had at least
two more.”


“Why don't you count Father?”

“Oh, right. That man's family too, isn't he? It's just been so long since I've last seen him.”

“I
can see that it's abut time for you to go on a shopping spree. You
sound like you lack energy. Why don't you take a trip to Hong Kong or
something?”


“Tsk tsk, you rude boy.”

Han Kyul put down the empty cup and stood up. He tied and tightened his robe sash as he said irritably,

“I'll go home today, so you can leave now. Even a scarecrow CEO should keep her place occupied in the company.”

“I'm
only there until you come to fill it, you know that right? What do I
know that I would stay in that position? When are you going to join the
company?”


“I told you that I wouldn't.”

Han
Kyul went back into the room. This was why he had avoided meeting
family members after coming back to Korea. As soon as they saw him they
would all ask when he was coning into the company. This was also why he
had been forcefully brought back. Two years ago, his eldest uncle had
passed away, and his father had taken over the company. Suddenly, Han
Kyul had become a vital person for the company. His father had tried to
get him to settle down somehow, but it hadn't worked. Han Kyul didn't
listen to him. He was afraid and abhorrent of the idea of jumping into
that battlefield where that long and lonely war was being fought.


He had put on his pants and was putting his shirt on when his mother walked into the dressing room.

“Why?”

“I just don't want to.”

“Don't you have any ambition?”

“No.”

“Then
think of it as filial duty. He's your father. Even if everyone else
points his fingers at him, you, at least, should understand and help
him.”


“What makes you think I'm qualified to do something like that?”

“What do you mean?”

Han Kyul closed the clasp on his belt and took out his leather jacket. He walked toward his mother.

“The
entire world knows that Grandfather held Eldest Uncle's hand. Then
Father and hyung took over that playing field. Imagine I joined the
fray. What are people going to say? Don't you think they're going to
say that we're being too greedy and that we're trying to take over
everything?”


“Don't you think you're at least as qualified as your brother-in-law?”

“When
did you guys drag him into this? My, aren't we quick on the uptake.
This is a fine mess. Why don't we all fight over the same bowl of rice?”


“You're overreacting, dear.”

Han
Kyul, who had walked past his mother into the living, put on his jacket
and looked for his hat. But he could not find it anywhere. When he went
back into the dressing room, his mother was standing over the vanity
holding the hat.


“I heard you blew off your appointment with Grandmother.”

“She wanted to see me at the same time the CEOs were having their meetings. I'm not an idiot.”

“Tsk tsk. Seems like Grandma's bait laying wasn't skilled enough to catch a cunning raccoon.”

“You should leave now.”

“Take this.” What his mother held out was a brand new cellphone of the newest model.

“It's got a tracking device so be sure to keep it on you at all times.”

“Of course I will. Just don't tap it.” After watching Han Kyul stick the phone in his back pocket, his mother said,

“Father says he's going to marry you off.”

“What?”

“He says it's an ultimatum. You either come into the company or you get married.”

“Mother,
are you hallucinating?” Han Kyul thought the idea was so ridiculous
that he played it off as a joke, but for some reason there a cold chill
raced down his spine.


“But
it's true. I came here on your father's special commands. He says to
make your decision by the end of today and report to him.”


“What the hell is this? And you didn't say anything to him while he was saying this?”

“What would I say to your father? I'm supposed to be the model wife. I have to follow my husband's commands.”

“Does Grandma know?”

“She
says it's her wish to see a great-grandson who looks just like her
youngest grandson, so she welcomed the idea with open arms.”


“No way! This doesn't make sense!”

“What, didn't you know that there are things in life that don't make sense?”

Seeing
Han Kyul at a loss for words made his mother fall into her childlike
laughter again. Han Kyul was so stunned that he felt like he couldn't
breathe and that his blood wasn't flowing.


Now
they were using all kinds of tricks to try and get him to come into the
company. This was bullshit. He couldn't see a way out of this. So
Grandma wasn't about to give him a car, she was trying to come up with
ways to chase him out empty-handed. Join the company or get married?
I'd rather die! Goddamn it
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:45 am

Chapter ThreeWhat is this,
CHAPTER THREE

What is this, a rigged poker game?




Part 1


Mom
had come home from the reunion wearing Dong Ok ahjumma's (translator's
note: in Korea, males as well as females call older women “ahjumma.”
This is not familiar, but not formal either) ring. That is, she
should've come back home with it. But at an unknown place at an unknown
time somewhere along the way, she had lost the ring. The ring itself
had been a little too large for her mother. She had been trying it on,
and then had simply gotten up and left for home with it still on her
hand. En Chan could understand how Ms. Dong Ok, who had to leave
urgently at her mother-in-law's call, could forget, but couldn't
understand why Mom couldn't have stopped her and said, “Hey, you should
take your ring.”

Could her mother, who could still remember the
exact details of this $4000, 2.12 carat diamond ring which had been
placed on the highest shelf of the third case to the right in the B
brand display area of the Shin Woo Joo Department Store where Ms. Dong
Ok, together with her husband, had gone on their 22nd anniversary to
buy, truly forget the fact that she was still wearing the ring? Not to
mention not feel that she was no longer wearing it?!?!? Oh, my poor
blood pressure. Oh, my poor weakening legs.

“Tell ahjumma.... tell her the truth... she's rich.... so......”

“No! I can't! I can't tell her!”

“What
else can you do in this situation? You have to tell her that you lost
it and tell her that we're going to reimburse her, and that even though
we don't have the money right now, that we're going to pay her back
soon. She's your friend of 30 years, she's not going to demand that you
pay her back immediately.”

“No! I won't! I'd rather die! I'd rather bite down on my tongue right here and die!”

“Mom, you silly, why would you die because of something like this?”

Her mother, who had wrapped up her aching head and laid down, began to cry aloud in earnest.

“Mom, are you crying? For Pete's sakes, Mommy, don't cry.”

“If
it was you, do you think you could tell someone something like that so
easily, obba? Even I couldn't do it. I'd rather die before I would,”
said En Se, who had been eating dinner.

“Why couldn't you? Is there another way to get out of this mess without telling?”

“There's no choice but to take out a loan from a local shark.”

“Oh God, just be quiet and eat your food.”

“Don't
you remember, Mom? When Dong Ok ahjumma's family went bankrupt way back
when, you were kind of mean to her. Back then, when Dong Ok ahjumma
called you or came to see you you'd tell us to say you were out or
you'd hide. When Dad died, I heard the other ahjummas talk among
themselves saying that a person should do right when she has the chance
in order to be helped later.”

Christ! Could this girl really be
her sister? She'd heard the phrase “fear the ones you know” before, but
how could a daughter pinpoint and attack every wound on her mother and
be so mean about it?

“Serves you right for acting so stuck up when Dong Ok ahjumma was going through a hard time.”

“Ya!'
En Chan rapidly crawled on her knees and put her hand over En Se's
mouth. Right then, her mother, who had been lying down, abruptly stood
up and flung open the closet doors. A mink coat the size of a bear slid
down.

“Mom!”

“I've got to sell this.”

En Chan let go of En Se and flew to hold down her mother.

“Mom, Mom, calm down and sit down.”

“I...
I can sell this at least... Your father... (sob).. your father bought
it for me before he died.... It's the only thing left after selling all
my... all my pearls... my ruby ring... all my jewels, it's the on-only
thing left, but at least... at least I can sell this... (sobs) Oh my
dear, I'm.. I'm so sorry!”


“Mommy.... d-don't cry... don't
cry Mommy...” En Se began to wail, adding to the noise that her mother,
who was sprawled on the floor like street market ahjumma, was making.
“What do you mean you're going to sell that? You can't sell that.
D-daddy b-bought it for you for your birthday. H-he was so happy when
he saw you in it... He s-said it made him happy because (sob) it made
him believe he'd kept his promise to let you live luxuriously.”


En
Chan, who had momentarily begun wondering how much the coat would've
fetched, was embarrassed. Her chest tightened painfully as En Se talked
about their father while sobbing so miserably. Her father's last words
came to her. Lying in a hospital bed, his body torn and bloodied from
the car crash, her father had lifted a bloodied hand to hold her own,
and he had said to her,


“Chan-ah, now you're the head of the
family. Your mother... En Se... take care of them. I can trust you,
right, Channy? I can go in peace, trusting you, right?”


It
had been impossible to say no. There was nothing to be done but to
promise him that she would. And she had worked and run all this way
since then to keep that promise.


En Chan picked up the
bear-like mink coat and hung it back up in the closet. The dry cleaning
bill would be ridiculous if it somehow got dirtied.


“I'll figure something out.”

“Wh-what could you possibly do?”

“Unni,
do you have money stashed away somewhere?” How could I, you little
brat! Do you know how much money you took from me to buy bags and shoes
and clothes?

“Well... kind of...”

“What! Really? Well,
why are you telling us that now? What, you didn't want to give it away?
You cheapskate. I thought as much. Shoot, I feel all stupid for crying.
Mom, don't worry, obba's going to take care of it.”


“Huh? Really?”

She
didn't tell them that there was only $420 dollars in the bank. She also
didn't tell them that she was planning to meet Ms. Dong Ok, who had
said she'd come around to pick up the ring in five days, by herself and
plead with her. She simply told them, both hands clenching into fists,


“I
didn't tell you because I wanted Mom to learn to be careful. Who do you
think I am? Of course I have money. Just trust me. I'll handle it.”
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Aug 29, 2008 6:48 am

Part 2


Han
Kyul doesn't dance or smile much, but somehow he always stands out in a
crowd. There's always an atmosphere of stylishness and mysteriousness
around him. It could be said that by simply entering a room, he draws
attention to himself. It was as if he carried around his own colored
spotlight. On rainy Seattle winter nights, you can find Han Kyul at
Highway, his favorite bar, surrounded on all sides by beautiful women.
All he's doing is watching the cellist play looking depressed and
drinking his beer, but the beauties refuse to leave his side for
several hours. When the night grows deep and he gets up from his seat,
some woman will unfailingly try to take his arm. Without even a smile,
he will push her away. Blonds and redheads alike.

Yu Ju saw Han
Kyul fighting his way out of a swarm of women. She handed him the
bottle of Miller Light she had only taken one sip from. Han Kyul, who
was breathing slightly harder than usual, gulped down the beer, his
Adam's apple moving up and down.

“I don't understand why you come to these kinds of clubs so often.”

“Why?
Do you disapprove?” The fragrance of sweat and heat emanated from Han
Kyul, who sat back down after ordering more beer. The scent was not
displeasing to Yuju.

“It's not like you like to drink, and it's not like you came here with a mind to chase women.”

“Why not? I like drinking and I've a mind to chase all the women I want.”

“Really? So why...”

“So why aren't I passed out smashed, and why aren't there any women in hysterics trying to rip me off for money?”

“Well, that's not exactly what I meant. Fine. Tell me. Why aren't there?”

“Because
that's the end. If I stumbled around drunk on the streets like a dog or
turned my family upside down because of women problems, what would I be
left with? Lock and chains, is what I'd be left with. All that stuff, I
gotta do at the very end. I'm not done enjoying myself yet. I don't
want to waste my youth, you know?”

“If you can control yourself like that, it might mean that youth is already over for you.”

“God, don't say such horrible things. If my youth is over, what does that make me? Middle-aged?”

“Why, are you scared?”


“Who likes getting old? Aren't you scared of getting old, Ms. Vixen?”

“Me?
Sometimes... There are days when I'm afraid of tomorrow. It might be
that I'm afraid that tomorrow may never come. I think that's the reason
why I work so hard—so that I can forget that.”

A slim beauty
walked by, leaving a fragrant trail behind her. Her long black hair
came down to her waist, but her miniskirt was barely long enough to
cover her buttocks. Yu Ju felt Han Kyul look at the woman. Han Kyul
spoke, still looking at the woman,

“You're still all right. Even in ten, twenty years, you'll still be pretty.”

At
his unexpected words, Yu Ju suddenly felt shy. It was because she knew
he wasn't a man to say such things easily, and because it had been a
long time since she'd heard them.

“Hmm. It feels pretty good to hear a compliment from a good looking man. I'll consider it a welcome-back gift.”

Just then, Han Kyul's friend Pak Do Hun approached them.

“Ya,
what're you doing here? What do you think you're doing, hanging around
out here while we're all waiting for you inside? They're all saying you
blew them off.”

“What's there to do in a dark room? Makes you feel like you're trapped or something. Tell them to come outside.”

“You honestly think fifteen people are going to move just for one of you? Man, you and your ego.”

“Hello? Can't you see me?” At Yu Ju's interjection, Do Hun made a surprised face.

“Wow!
It was you, nuna (translator's note: in Korea, males address familiar
older females “nuna.”)? I thought this guy snagged a catch or
something. But never mind that, when did you get so beautiful, nuna?
Seriously! I thought there was a fairy was sitting at the bar.”

“I see you still overact. It's nice to see you, anyway. You've been well?”

“Of course. I don't even have to ask you. Your face is glowing. Did something good happen?”

“I'm just glad to be home. Hey, Han Kyul, since everyone is inside, it'd probably be better for us to go inside, too.”

“It's
all right. Just you come, nuna. We didn't come here to see this jerk.
We actually really don't care if he's come back to Korea or has left
the Earth. But we wondered and wondered and wondered when you were
coming back and...” Han Kyul abruptly cut off the banter before it got
any longer by asking,

“Did hyung come?”

“Hyung? Who?” Han Kyul indicated Yu Ju with a quick glance. With that, Do Hun immediately understood and said,

“Oh..... No. Did he say he was going to come?”

“I left him a note because he was in a conference, but I guess his secretary didn't give it to him.”

Han
Kyul skillfully circumvented the topic, but it looked like Yu Ju didn't
believe him. When he had called, Han Sung hadn't said that he'd come,
or that he wouldn't come. But Han Kyul had believed that he would. Han
Sung wasn't the kind of person to waste time on lost causes, but Han
Kyul had thought maybe he'd come on account of his pride. Han Kyul had
wanted Han Sung to show up looking nonchalant and to sneer at the
uncomfortable look on Yu Ju's face. Han Kyul wanted it to happen so
that Yu Ju would be able to deal with the guilt and regret in that way,
at least.


Han Kyul took the miniskirt woman into the room
where Yu Ju and his friends were. Even the friends who at first looked
outraged at the newcomer went wild when they saw her dance. They even
called in her friends, and the party began to rage until it was about
to explode. Around midnight, Yu Ju picked up her purse. Han Kyul, who
had seen her sneak out, followed her.

“You're leaving already?”

“Yea. I'm kind of tired.” Han Kyul thought to himself that it had been Han Sung who Yu Ju had waited for.

“Let's go, I'll drop you off.”

“It's ok. I'll just take a cab.”


Han
Kyul wordlessly took her by the wrist. It concerned him that her wrist
was so thin. It reminded him of the first time he met Yu Ju. He was
eight. Even then, her fingers and her wrists were very thin. At the
time, if someone had asked Han Kyul what he hated most in the world, he
would have said milk, the piano, and his father. He had been force-fed
milk, even though he'd said it was fine if he didn't grow any more; so
he hated milk. He had been forced to play the piano, even though he'd
said he didn't want to become a pianist or anything; so he hated the
piano. And for forcing him to do all these things against his will, he
hated his father most of all.


That day, he had poured milk
all over the piano, which he had played for two years. He had been
beaten and humiliated in front of guests who had happened to be
visiting, and banished to his room. He was so angry that he couldn't
stop his tears. It was then that long-haired Yu Ju, who was taller than
Han Kyul was and could play the piano better than he could, came into
the room.


“Hey, do you want to be my younger brother?”

Han Kyul thought to himself that she was a very strange girl.

“If
you say you will, I'll put medicine on your wounds for you.” She showed
him the ointment she held in her hand. Her mouth was closed tightly as
if she'd begin crying if he didn't quickly say that he would.

“Wait here. I'll bring the car around.”

“You've
been drinking. We should call a substitute driver (translator's note:
in Korea, if someone is too drunk to drive, a substitute driver can be
hired to take the person and the person's car home.).”

“It's
actually pretty entertaining to drive when you're slightly off your
rocker. Don't worry, if things turn for the worse, I won't put anyone
else in danger. I'll just shove my car into the river. What's the worst
that could happen, other than dying? Don't you think it'd be all right
to die with a cool guy like me? As a woman, I mean.”

“You're just drunk, right? You haven't gone crazy or anything?”


“What're you getting all nervous for? It's ok, I've only had a bottle of beer.”

“Still... Listen, I'll go buy some coffee from over there.”

“You don't trust me?”

“As if I could tell the almighty Choi Han Kyul that I couldn't trust him.”

“Psh.”

“I want to have some coffee too.”

“Fine, then.”

Han
Kyul went to the parking lot and Yu Ju went to the convenience store on
the other side of the street. He'd parked the car and was walking
toward the store when Yu Ju came out holding coffee cups in both hands.
Right then, a motorcycle whizzed by her. Without slowing down, the
person on the motorcycle snatched the purse hanging from her wrist and
sped off.

“Aaaah!” At her scream, Han Kyul sped like a bullet to
Yu Ju. The cups were on the ground, and Yu Ju was standing still,
dumbfounded.

“Nuna! Are you all right?”

“Ah... I....”

“Are
you hurt anywhere?” Han Kyul clutched a pale and trembling Yu Ju
against his chest. Right then, a scooter appeared out of nowhere and
clattered its way past them.

“Ya! You son of a bitch! Stop right
there!” An incredibly loud voice rang through the night street. Han
Kyul read the shining letters on the back of the scooter:

“Midnight Snack Delivery”

“Let's get in the car. Can you walk?”

“I-I'm
ok. I was just so startled...” As Han Kyul helped her along, Yu Ju
forced a laugh and said, “Shoot, my bag... I bought that in Paris....
What a shame.”

“Women! The bag is not the problem. I'll buy you another one.”

“You promise? You can't take back your word later.”

“Did you hit your head or something? What kind of nonsense are you talking about?”

Yu
Ju, who was about to get into the car, suddenly stopped. Her face went
rigid and there was shock in her eyes. Han Kyul followed her line of
sight and his prediction was proven right when he saw the man standing
there. It was Han Sung.

“So you're coming just now, are you?”

“You're leaving?”

“We were going to, but there was a slight incident...”

Suddenly
a siren blared. A patrol car was chasing the scooter chasing the
motorcycle that was heading back toward them. With a cry of “Shit!” the
person on the motorcycle threw Yu Ju's handbag. Han Sung found himself
catching the bag, and Han Kyul reflexively began to chase after the
motorcycle.

“Han Kyul!”

“Oi! Stop right there!” The
thought that he had to catch the jerk had just fired Han Kyul up to
sprint for the first time in a long time when the scooter clattered
past him.

“Ya! Shit! There's no choice! Ya! You son of a bitch!”
Han Kyul whipped the helmet off the scooter's driver and chucked it at
the motorcycle. It flew in a parabola and hit the mugger square in the
back. The motorcycle buckled and crashed, and the thief crumpled to the
ground, but apparently he wasn't seriously injured because he stood
right up and tried to pick up his motorcycle. The midnight snack
delivery boy flew onto the escaping mugger. Woah. Not bad. Han Kyul
walked slowly toward them, regretting that he had not been the one to
catch him. He was breathing hard.

“Hah.... hah.....”

I guess I should quit smoking.

The
delivery boy grabbed the thief and pulled him up by his collar. It
looked like the two of them were bickering with each other. But by the
time Han Kyul and the policeman arrived, the only one left was the
delivery boy. The mugger had left his motorcycle and escaped in that
short time. Han Sung and Yu Ju caught up with the group.

“You aren't hurt anywhere?”

At
the policeman's question, the delivery boy nodded his head even though
a cut on the cheekbone was bleeding. The policeman turned to Yu Ju.

“Is anything missing?”

“No.”

“Any other damage?”

“None at all. Just a little startled.”

“It'll be easy to catch him since we have his motorcycle, right? We can look it up?”

At Han Kyul's question, the policeman replied noncommittally,

“Who
knows? There are so many fakes these days. It could be a stolen
motorcycle. Also, there are a lot of motorcycles these days smuggled in
from China, so there are lots of motorcycles that are unregistered
roaming about.”

Then shouldn't the policeman chase after him? He
was just here to take the victim's statement? You call that a
policeman? Unbelievable!

“So you're saying you're not going to catch him?”

“Well, no, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that it'll be hard to. These kids are usually minors who don't have licenses.”

“For Christ's sakes! What, is that supposed to impress me?”

“Stop
it.” Han Sung came over and pulled at him. Even as the policeman's face
began to fall, the midnight snack delivery boy was desperately trying
to put on a broken helmet.

“Hey, student over there.”


“Yes?” The policeman called the delivery boy over.

“Did you see his face?”

“It was too dark; I didn't get a good look.”

“Tsk. Ok. If you go home and find that you're injured somewhere, call up the station. We'll give you a reward or something.”

“Oh!
Right.” Yu Ju came forth with her bag in her hand. “Thank you so much.
It's thanks to you that I got my bag back. This isn't much, but...”

“N-no, no, it's ok. I just wanted to...”

“Hold
it.” Han Kyul was glaring at the boy. Something smelled fishy. It was
fishy that the mugger could escape so easily, and it was fishy that
this kid would, after having interfered in other peoples' business and
getting hurt, refuse to accept compensation. It was fishy that the bag
was given back so easily, and it was fishy that the mugger and this kid
looked about the same age. What is this, a rigged poker game?

The
policeman's radio began to shriek loudly. He left to return to his DUI
crackdown, and Han Sung took Yu Ju back to the car. Han Kyul grabbed
the delivery boy who was trying to get back on the scooter.

“Call
this number tomorrow.” He dug around in his pockets until he found a
piece of paper and wrote down his number on it. “I'll take care of your
reward.”

“No, really, it's fine.” The delivery boy blew the bangs out of his eyes and raised his eyebrows. He looked insulted.

“How much do you make in a month?”

“Excuse me?” Sparks appeared in his round eyes. “What are you asking me that for?”

Look at this kid. Who do you think you're dogging? Han Kyul put his desire to smack him into a snide remark.

“I'll
give you a month's wage, so call me. There's no reason to let pride get
in the way. It's only natural that you receive compensation.” He
snorted at the 50cc scooter and asked, “Which toy store did you pick
this up from?”

“What?”

“Do they even repair things like
this? If they do, I'll pay for it. Call me tomorrow.” Han Kyul held out
the piece of paper. In spite of a face that looked like it would rather
die than accept it, a hand came out to take it. Han Kyul looked at the
hand and gripped the paper tightly. The boy glared and snatched it
away. Han Kyul watched the scooter clunking away and smiled mockingly.

Yea,
that's right you little punk. What the hell can someone like you do?
You'll get it, for sure. Little punk. I'll get the both of you!
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PostSubject: Re: coffee prince the novel   Fri Sep 05, 2008 5:35 am

http://www.xanga.com/CoffeePrince

.+gO tO that address fOr the nOvel...

.+hihi^^

lol!
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