The production crew has commandeered the only bathhouse in the village for our scene. Old tiles line the bathing area in the women’s quarters where three pools sit snug among shower stalls and a tiny kiln sauna. While it’s empty now, I imagine during the day it’s filled with local women, gossiping about their neighbors while bathing.
My mother used to take me to our local bathhouse when I was younger, before she started to really get busy with Joah. We’d scrub each other’s backs before soaking in the pools. She’d buy me sikhye, and I’d lick my lips between every sip of the sweet rice drink, a refreshing coolness after the heated rooms. Then we’d rest in the common area, our heads on block pillows, reading manhwa and giggling at the heroines’ romantic adventures. A rush of warmth envelops me at the memory. Maybe once everything settles down at the company, we can go back there again, just the two of us.
I turn as the doors open, and Nathaniel enters with the rest of the crew. He’s dressed in the pajama-like uniforms customary to bathhouses, a large shirt paired with drawstring shorts. Atop his head is a towel shaped to resemble a sheep’s head. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so nervous.
He immediately spots me, walking over. “Hey.”
“You look comfortable,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual.
He smiles crookedly. “I’m guessing your costume is a lot more elaborate than mine.”
“Yes.” I blush, feeling suddenly very naked beneath my robe.
He tilts his head to the side.
I step away from him, feigning like I need to get my makeup touched up. I scurry off toward Soobin and RALA, but not before I see the look of confusion on his face.
My stomach churns with guilt. He’s done nothing wrong. I’m the one who can’t control my feelings.
“Sori-yah, is something the matter?” Soobin says. “You look a little pale. Is the corset too tight? I can loosen it.” But as she makes the suggestion, I can see her mouth thin in worry; loosening it might cause the whole costume to fall off, the thought of which makes me more panicked than I already am.
“I’m okay. I just have to make it through this one last scene.”
The setup is that Nathaniel’s character comes upon mine taking a dip in the steaming hot water after the bathhouse has closed for the night.
I watch as the crew positions the lights and cameras around the pool, my nerves growing stronger with every minute that passes. The scene at the tidepool hadn’t felt this intimate, maybe because we were outdoors. In this enclosed setting, with all the lights centered on the pool, I’m more exposed.
The director leads me to the edge of the pool. “You’re going to swim around a bit.” He moves his arm in a circular motion. “And then surface near the edge.” He taps his shower slipper by the pool’s edge. “Nathaniel will be waiting for you. After he speaks his line, you’ll relay to him the important message the Sea King has sent you to the human world to deliver.”
I’m nodding along, but frown at this. “But I thought I couldn’t speak.”
He adjusts his sunglasses, which he continues to wear though it’s now evening and we’re inside. “And so, you must relay the message to him in the way of the mermaids. With a kiss.”
I blink at the director, then blink again. “That’s not in the script,” I say.
“Yes,” the director acknowledges. With a checkered handkerchief, he wipes sweat from his brow. “When the scriptwriter discovered the plot hole, she thought of this solution. But only if you’re comfortable . . .”
My stomach flutters, and I turn to Nathaniel, who’s walking toward me. I expect him to tease, but he’s uncharacteristically shy, scratching at his neck beneath the collar of his shirt. “Do you . . . ? We don’t have to . . .”
“I think it’s okay,” I say, a little breathless. “For Sun’s show . . .”
“Okay,” he says. “If at any time you don’t want to . . .”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Sori-ssi,” the director nods to me, “whenever you’re ready.”
I realize he means for me to disrobe, while everyone’s watching. I take a deep breath, channeling my inner mermaid, or at least actress. The costume is gorgeous, and its custom-made to my proportions—I’m proud to wear it. I untie the knot of my robe and let it fall from my shoulders.
There’s an audible gasp from the crew that hadn’t been present at the tidepool shoot. I throw back my shoulders, showing off the costume to its best advantage. Idols have worn more risqué outfits than this on stage; I’ve worn more risqué outfits on the catwalk. There’s no reason to feel shy. I risk a glance at Nathaniel. His gaze, which had been lingering on my costume, raises to meet mine. My heart stutters at the heat in his eyes, and the already warm temperature in the room seems to raise a notch.
Before I go entirely up in flames, I turn from him and head to the pool, quickly submerging myself into the water. I can’t even cool down because the water is over forty degrees celsius.
“Sori-ssi,” the director says, positioned now behind the camera, “you remember what we discussed? Swim, swim, swim, and then emerge prettily by the edge of the pool. Like a fairy.”
A fairy mermaid, got it. I can do this.
Taking a deep breath, I dip below the surface, silently thanking my mother for all those swimming lessons growing up. Korea is a peninsula, she’d said. You must learn how to swim or you won’t survive. Now that I think about it, I wonder if she’d meant those words as a metaphor.
I move in what I hope is a graceful motion beneath the water, trying to keep my legs together to make it easier for the editor to add in a tail during post-production. Still submerged, I swim toward the edge, planting my feet at the bottom of the pool to orient my graceful emergence.
The water cascades off the top of my head, over my nose and cheeks. I don’t gasp for air but take small breaths to give the illusion that I don’t need air to breathe. I can feel the water catching on my lashes, and I have to resist the urge to raise my hand and wipe them away. Nathaniel comes into focus above me. He’s kneeling by the pool, looking down at me.
He doesn’t speak; instead, his gaze roves over my hair, my eyes, my lips. He has a line, though I can’t recall what the exact words are, something about asking me why I’m in the pool. I can’t deliver my message until he says his line. Did he forget it? We’re going to miss the shot. My heart races. I have to do something. Gripping the edge of the pool, I lift myself out of the water and press my lips to his.
It’s brief. I don’t have enough upper body strength to hold myself above the water for longer than a peck. My lips part. He gasps softly. When I release him, his lips follow mine, as if seeking more, but I’m already falling back into the water.
I swallow a bit of it, making the next time I emerge a lot less graceful.
“That was perfect!” the director shouts, his voice echoing in the chamber. “Beautiful. Emotional! Such on-screen chemistry!”
I glance toward the corner to see the scriptwriter is wiping a tear from her eye.
I sigh with relief that we won’t have to film it a second time, even if Nathaniel never spoke his line. It’s very hot in the pool, and I’m feeling out of breath with having had to hold it for so long.
As I move toward the stairs, the room takes a sudden dive.
“Sori?” Nathaniel’s voice is sharp.
“I can’t—” I start, then realize I can’t breathe. I start to panic. The room spins.
There’s a loud splash, and then I feel arms lifting me from the water. Nathaniel. He’s jumped into the pool. I feel him turn me around in the water, and then he’s pulling at the back of my corset in rough, jerky motions.
The pressure on my chest releases, and I gasp in a lungful of air.
Letting go of me briefly, Nathaniel pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it over my exposed back and using his body to block mine from the room.
“Can you breathe now?” he asks, his voice gentle but strained.
“Yes.”
“I’m going to carry you.”
I nod, and he slides his arm beneath my legs. I hook my arms around his neck as he lifts me bodily from the water. I’m so embarrassed that I bury my face in his neck to avoid the stares of the crew, all of whom are expressing high levels of concern.
Everything is a blur from there. Nathaniel takes me to the on-site medic, a friendly woman who checks my vitals and gives me an IV for fluids. A few minutes later, Secretary Park rushes into the tent. “I texted your mother. She’s on her way from Japan.” There isn’t enough room for the two of them and the medic, so Nathaniel moves out of the tent. I feel bereft, watching him go.
“She isn’t coming back early because of this?” I ask Secretary Park, feeling anxious. I know her meeting in Japan was important. “Tell her that I’m all right. That she doesn’t need to come.”
I can see Secretary Park warring with herself, weighing what her boss needs to do for the company against what she needs to do for her daughter. “Are you sure?” she asks finally.
“Yes,” I say, “I just need rest.” I raise my arm that’s attached to the IV. “This will do everything else.”
“Okay. I’ll tell her.” She hesitates. “I’m glad you’re all right.” She pats my leg and then leaves.
I eventually fall asleep, waking up to find the medic gone and Nathaniel in the chair beside me. He’s resting his head on the cot, his face turned away from mine and toward my outstretched arm that’s hooked up to the IV. I wonder, briefly, if he’s asleep, but when I move my hand, he stirs, though he doesn’t turn to face me.
“Never wear something like that again,” he says. His voice is slightly muffled by the blanket. I can’t see his expression, but there’s a catch in his voice, and I realize how scary it must have been for him to see me faint. My heart softens.
“There goes my short-lived stint as a mermaid,” I tease.
He turns his head on the blanket, a crease between his brows. “I’m glad you can joke about it.”
I raise my hand and brush the hair that’s fallen over his eyes. “You look so serious. It’s unlike you.”
“I was really scared, Sori. You were so pale.”
“You acted fast, for being so scared,” I say, remembering how he jumped into the water without hesitation.
“Well, I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to undress you.”
“That’s my Nathaniel,” I say softly.
He doesn’t say anything, and I feel my pulse race, which probably isn’t good for my health.
“It was pretty while it lasted,” I say, to ease the tension. “The costume, that is.”
“It was beautiful,” he says.
I open my hand, and he slides his over mine.
We fall asleep like that, holding hands. Sometime later, I wake to find him gone. Sun is stepping into the tent, letting the flap fall behind him. He walks over to the IV bag, checking it as if he knows what he’s doing.
“Where’s Nathaniel?” I ask.
“I sent him out. He needed to rest.” He takes Nathaniel’s chair, leaning backward slightly.
Neither of us speaks. Sun’s expression is thoughtful. I wonder how much he knows. Sun is perceptive. He might not know that Nathaniel’s been living with me, but he’ll see that we’ve grown closer in the past two weeks.
“Are you going to say something to scare me away from him? I know what you said to Jenny.” When Jaewoo and Jenny first started dating, Sun tried to frighten her off. Jenny thinks he was trying to “test” her and protect Jaewoo from a potential scandal, but I think he was just being a jerk.
“I did say something, didn’t I?” He scratches his chin. “Damn, I’m as nosy as my grandfather.” He chuckles to himself, as if almost causing Jenny and Jaewoo to break up amuses him.
“Even so,” he says, watching me with his dark eyes, “I don’t think anything could scare you, Min Sori.”
“I’m going to talk to my mother when we get back to Seoul, about the possibility of dating him again. I want to. I want Nathaniel.”
Sun lifts a single brow. “When you put it that way,” he says slowly, “I don’t think anyone could deny you. Even I’m blushing a little.”
“Really?” I frown. “You look pale.”
“I’m blushing inside.”
He stands. “I came by because I wanted to make sure you were all right. And . . .”—reaching out a hand, he brushes a strand of hair from my face—“Jenny was a stranger to me. You’re not. I’ll always be on your side.”
Oddly, I feel tears prick the corners of my eyes. Sun can be sarcastic and aloof, but he’s always looked out for my best interests, like an older brother. The best kind. “Thanks, Oppa.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he says. Then after a short pause, adds, “Though I should have known you and Nathaniel would bring drama to my drama set.”