The Sandbox and the Masquerade

What meaning could there be for a child in tidying sand? All the while, the person in charge would have watched from the comfort of a climate-controlled room. They kept the frail Jae-hwi confined to the house, never sending him to school, ensuring he grew up without a single friend.

Taerin found it utterly incomprehensible. She felt a wave of pity for Jae-hwi, a boy who had lost his mother at a young age and was effectively imprisoned as punishment for his “sickness of the heart.”

Jae-hwi had told her once that he hated looking at the finished sand garden after those two hours of labor. He would check to see if it was done, but he never lingered over it.

“I didn’t feel any pride in it,” he had said. “Why not?” “I didn’t do it because I wanted to… and I couldn’t leave any trace of myself behind.” “Ah… I suppose that’s true. But don’t people usually use rakes to make patterns? I think I’ve seen that somewhere. Why couldn’t you do that? It seems like the perfect place to doodle.” “Grandfather told me to rake it as smooth as possible. Every day, exactly the same.” “Listen, you’re the only grandson. Cause a little trouble. No, is doodling even ‘trouble’? That’s nothing. Looking at you, I forget you’re even at the age for puberty.” “Have you ever caused trouble, Noona?” “Me? I…”

Taerin’s brow furrowed as her thoughts cut off there. “What did I say back then?” A low voice leaked through her lips as she retraced the old memory. — Huh? What? I didn’t catch that.

“…No. I wasn’t talking to you, Se-hyeon. I stepped outside without a coat. I’d appreciate it if you could organize what you have to say and send it via message.” — Taerin. A moment of silence followed his resolute voice—a voice that clearly hadn’t considered the fact that she was shivering in the cold without a jacket. — It won’t happen again. I made sure she understood. “……” — I’m sorry. As you know, Ha-yeon is young. It was her birthday, but I couldn’t be with her because it overlapped with the Jeju business trip. You know, the opening ceremony for our gallery in Jeju? She must have seen the photos taken there. She said she thought I lied to her so I could go on a trip with you. I scolded her severely. “I don’t care to hear the play-by-play.” — Right… She says she won’t apologize to you, so please understand. Perhaps because she’s young, she has this misplaced pride… “You must be happy, having such a ‘cute’ lover.” — …… “I’m not being sarcastic. I just figured your life must be quite entertaining.”

Taerin’s voice was flat. She meant it. She felt a flicker of… envy for Se-hyeon, who had a young lover reckless enough to be jealous without knowing her place.

After being scolded by Se-hyeon, Lee Ha-yeon would have pouted, claimed she was wrong, and then wept in his arms about how hurt she was. Then, Se-hyeon would have held the young woman, soothing her. Unable to help his doting heart, he might have bought his beloved a mountain of gifts. In the end, he probably smiled along with her once she finally cheered up.

A bitter smile spread across Taerin’s face. Love. A private emotion she might never understand until the day she died.

Separate from her anger over Se-hyeon’s carelessness as her fiancé or his lover’s overstepping, she was envious of the human element of it. The act of sharing a heart stripped of pretense—crying and laughing with someone in earnest—was a luxury she was not permitted.

“Ah…” Though it wasn’t permitted, she had felt a glimmer of it once. Long ago, with a boy who seemed so innocent, Taerin had briefly removed the mask she always wore and held it in her hands.

The reason was simple: he looked easy to handle. He looked cute, the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. He didn’t seem like the type to go around blabbing that Won Taerin wasn’t the polite, well-behaved model student people thought she was.

“……” Come to think of it, Jae-hwi hadn’t called once today. He must have decided to follow her orders not to call. It was a relief.

Whenever Taerin got someone’s contact information, she saved them into one of three groups. [Group 1] was family—her mother, father, the grandmother in Yeon-o-dong, and other relatives.

[Group 2], which included Jeong Se-hyeon, consisted of professional relationships: colleagues, clients, and overseas buyers. [Group 3] was filled with people she had met through her studies, like school alumni and professors.

Every person in her phone had a clear definition. Only Jae-hwi was ambiguous. He was tied to her neither by business nor by school. After agonizing over this outlier who disrupted her neat system of human categorization, Taerin had been forced to create a group just for Goo Jae-hwi.

[Etc.]

Etc. Other. Miscellaneous. It was a pity for the eldest grandson of the GH Group to be treated as “sundries,” but it was the best she could do. She knew that although he was currently showing interest, fueled by old memories, it would soon wither away.

There had been plenty of people like that. Curiosity is fleeting. Moreover, she and Goo Jae-hwi weren’t in a position to see each other often or maintain a long-term acquaintance anyway.

Thinking about it now, she felt a surge of resentment that she almost wanted to voice to him. You should have stayed exactly as you were back then, so I could at least keep you as a memory. Why did you have to look at me with the eyes of a grown man?

“I should have told him not to message me, either.” — Huh? “…Nothing. I was talking about someone else. Forget the apology. Even if she gave one, it wouldn’t be sincere. Just keep her on a tighter leash. What are you going to do about the rumors?”

Cutting off the thoughts that kept drifting toward Jae-hwi, Taerin straightened her back. — The thing is… Taerin. About my brother’s pre-wedding family meeting… it would be best if you came… “I’m not a member of your family yet.”

On Friday, the formal meeting between the families of Se-hyeon’s older brother, Jeong Se-jin (Managing Director of Dasung Construction), and his fiancée was scheduled. Se-hyeon had been asking Taerin to attend for a while, but she had drawn a line. There was no need for her to participate in a private family event where rumors wouldn’t leak to the outside anyway.

The two of them only needed to act like a loving engaged couple in places where it served a purpose. Places where people’s eyes were fixed on them. Places where their relationship needed to be performed.

— I know. But Father says he hasn’t seen you in a long time and wants to. I think he might have heard the… rumors about Ha-yeon. And he seems upset because the bride’s family isn’t quite up to par… So, I was thinking you could come to the meeting, and then we could naturally head out for a date afterward. I intentionally booked a different restaurant for that—somewhere easy for people to spot us and talk about how solid our relationship is.

Taerin lowered her eyes and sighed. Seeing how he was rushing his words, he had likely already told his family she would attend. “I told you to handle it. Is this really the best you can do?”

As time passed, the days she felt disappointed in Se-hyeon were increasing. Because Won Kyung-pil had been the one to choose Jeong Se-hyeon, that disappointment fell entirely on Taerin’s shoulders. It was exhausting to be disappointed when nothing ever changed.

That was why Taerin had recently been continuously mentioning Se-hyeon’s carelessness and indecisiveness to Won Kyung-pil. Since the final decision wasn’t hers to make, she simply had to follow her father’s lead.

— I’m sorry. For now, I’ve said I’ll respond strongly to the groundless rumors… “There won’t be anything to respond ‘strongly’ to. The rumors have a basis. People will just laugh—they only reported what they actually saw.” — …I have nothing to say to you on that point. I’ll be careful from now on. Anyway, Taerin. “I’ll adjust my schedule. Send me the time and place again.” — Thank you, thank you. “I’m hanging up.”

Ending the call, Taerin closed her eyes tightly for a moment, feeling the fatigue. When she turned back toward her operations team waiting for her, her posture was perfectly straight. As always.

Stepping out of the car, Taerin scanned the surroundings. The fusion-style Hanok, built against a backdrop of a birch forest on the outskirts of Seoul, was quite stylish.

Lately, it had become a famous “hot spot” frequented by celebrities. While it was a popular fine-dining Korean restaurant, the atmosphere was different from Gook, the traditional Hanok restaurant in Samcheong-dong often used by political and business circles for family meetings.

“He certainly knows how to use his head for things like this…”

Gook had an exclusionary atmosphere. It was surrounded by high walls to prevent reporters from hiding or taking photos, and the parking lot was inside the gates, guarded by security. Privacy was guaranteed. But this place, Goseuljeong, was different.

Low walls, a wide garden, and a parking lot located outside the walls. The sense of openness provided a sophisticated space that younger generations would love. Some would call it beautiful, but for those with much to protect or hide, it was a place to avoid.

However, for Se-hyeon, who was desperate to be seen, it was perfect. To top it off, with rumors of celebrities frequenting the place, reporters would be staked out in every nearby alley—the icing on the cake.

Passing the parking lot and entering through the side door of the restaurant, she spotted a figure hurrying toward her the moment they saw her.