The venue was in Gangnam—because of course it was—in one of those hotels that had actual chandeliers in the lobby and staff who looked at you like they could calculate your net worth in three seconds.
Bok-Jin handed his keys to the valet like this was completely normal, which for him, it probably was.
"You okay?" he asked, noticing my death grip on my purse.
"Just reminding myself I belong here."
"You absolutely belong here. More than half these people, honestly."
We walked through the lobby toward the ballroom, and I tried not to gawk at the marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows. This was a Tuesday for these people. Just another networking event.
The ballroom doors opened, and I got my first look at Bok-Jin's world.
The room was elegant—soft lighting, tables with white linens, a bar along one wall, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. About fifty people milled around in clusters, all dressed in that effortless business casual that probably cost more than my monthly rent.
"Choi Bok-Jin!" A guy around our age approached, all white teeth and confident handshake. "Haven't seen you at one of these in months. Thought you'd finally escaped."
"Kim Jae-Sung. Still pretending to understand your father's shipping business?"
"Every day." Jae-Sung turned to me with obvious interest. "And who's this?"
"Han Ji-Mang," Bok-Jin said, his hand settling on my lower back. "My girlfriend. Ji-Mang, this is Jae-Sung. We went to high school together."
"Girlfriend?" Jae-Sung's eyebrows shot up. "Bok-Jin's bringing someone to these things? That's new."
"It's very new," I said, finding my voice. "Nice to meet you."
"What do you do, Ji-Mang?"
"I'm a law student. Third year at SNU."
"Law! That's great. My father's always complaining about needing good lawyers." He pulled out his phone. "Let me get your contact info—"
"She's still a student," Bok-Jin interrupted smoothly. "Not taking clients yet."
"Right, right. Well, when you graduate, look me up. We're always hiring." He clapped Bok-Jin on the shoulder. "I need to go schmooze with the venture capital people. Good to see you, man. Nice meeting you, Ji-Mang."
He disappeared into the crowd.
"That wasn't so bad," I said.
"That was the easy part. Jae-Sung's decent. Now come on, let's get drinks before people start circling."
We made it to the bar, and Bok-Jin ordered us both wine.
"Remember," he said quietly, handing me a glass. "One drink maximum. And if anyone starts asking invasive questions, I'll rescue you."
"What counts as invasive?"
"'Who's your family?' 'Where are you from?' 'What does your father do?'—basically anything designed to figure out your background."
"So... most small talk?"
"Welcome to networking events with rich people."
A woman in her early thirties approached—perfectly styled hair, designer dress, the kind of confidence that came from never questioning whether you belonged.
"Bok-Jin! Is that you? I haven't seen you since the winter charity gala."
"Director Shin. Good to see you."
"And who's this?" Her eyes swept over me with professional assessment.
"Han Ji-Mang, my girlfriend. Ji-Mang, this is Director Shin Hye-Jin. She runs the legal department at Hansung Electronics."
My brain immediately clicked into gear. Hansung Electronics—Bok-Jin's family company. This woman probably worked directly for his father.
"Law student at SNU," I said, offering my hand. "Third year."
"SNU law? Impressive." Her handshake was firm. "What's your focus?"
"Environmental law. Administrative oversight of agency decisions, specifically."
"That's a narrow specialty. Most students your age are thinking corporate or criminal."
"Environmental law has real-world impact. I like work that matters."
Something shifted in her expression—maybe respect, maybe just interest. "We need more lawyers who think like that. The corporate world has enough people chasing money."
"Though money does help pay rent," I said.
She laughed. "Fair point. Are you interested in in-house corporate work after graduation? We're always looking for good environmental lawyers."
"I'm focusing on law school applications right now. But I'll keep that in mind."
"Smart. Get the credentials first." She pulled out a business card. "Take this anyway. When you're ready to think about career options, reach out. We have a good program for recent law school graduates."
"Thank you." I took the card, trying not to show how surreal this was. Director of Legal at a major corporation, handing me her card. At a networking event I'd been terrified to attend.
Director Shin excused herself, and Bok-Jin looked at me with something like pride.
"See? You're a natural at this."
"I mostly just told her what I actually care about."
"Exactly. That's why you're good at it. You're genuine. These people are so used to fake networking smiles that authenticity stands out."
We circulated through the room, and the conversations blurred together. Business majors talking about market analysis. Finance people discussing investment strategies. Someone's daughter who'd just gotten back from studying fashion in Paris.
I smiled, nodded, asked questions, and tried not to feel like an imposter.
Around 6:15, I excused myself to the bathroom. I needed five minutes away from the performance of belonging.
The bathroom was absurdly fancy—marble counters, individual hand towels, actual flowers. I stood at the sink and took a breath.
I could do this. Another forty-five minutes and we could leave.
The door opened, and two women walked in—mid-twenties, designer everything, the kind of polished that came from a lifetime of these events.
"Did you see Choi Bok-Jin actually brought someone?" one said, checking her makeup in the mirror.
I froze in my stall.
"I know! I thought he never brought dates to these things."
"She seems nice. A little out of place, but nice."
"Apparently she's a student at SNU. Law or something."
"Good for her, I guess. Though I give it six months before his family steps in."
"Why six months?"
"That's usually how long it takes for them to realize the girl isn't from the right background. Remember when his cousin dated that girl from Busan? Lasted exactly four months before grandmother made it clear she wasn't suitable."
"God, these families. So medieval."
"It's business. They marry within their social circle. Keeps everything neat."
They left, still talking, and I stayed frozen in the stall until I was sure they were gone.
Six months. That's what strangers were betting on us lasting.
I splashed water on my face, fixed my makeup, and went back to the ballroom.
Bok-Jin was talking to a group near the windows. When he saw me, he smiled and reached out his hand. I took it and let him pull me into the conversation.
"We were just discussing the new environmental regulations," an older man was saying. "Bok-Jin mentioned your focus is environmental law?"
"Yes, sir. Specifically judicial oversight of agency decisions."
"Interesting. What's your take on the recent Supreme Court decision regarding the Han River development project?"
I launched into an analysis, grateful for something substantive to discuss. The conversation turned technical—legal precedents, administrative law principles, the balance between development and conservation.
By the time we finished, two more people had joined our circle, and I'd forgotten to be nervous.
"You know your material," the older man said approvingly. "If you're looking for internships after law school, my firm might have openings."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
The group dispersed, and Bok-Jin squeezed my hand.
"You were amazing. Did you see how interested they were?"
"I just talked about what I know."
"Exactly. That's the secret. Most people here are faking expertise. You actually have it."
At 6:45, a distinguished-looking man in his fifties entered the ballroom. The energy in the room shifted immediately—conversations quieted, people straightened.
Bok-Jin's entire body went tense.
"That's your father?" I whispered.
"That's my father."
Choi Jae-Hyun looked exactly like I'd imagined—tall, imposing, the kind of presence that demanded attention without asking for it. His suit probably cost more than a semester's tuition. His expression was pleasant but detached, the look of someone greeting subordinates.
"We should say hello," Bok-Jin said quietly. "Get it over with."
"Are you sure?"
"He'll notice if I don't. Better to control the introduction."
We approached as Choi Jae-Hyun finished greeting a group of executives. When he turned and saw Bok-Jin, his expression shifted into something that might have been warmth if it reached his eyes.
"Bok-Jin. Good to see you here."
"Father. I'd like you to meet Han Ji-Mang. My girlfriend."
I watched his father's eyes flicker over me—a quick, comprehensive assessment that probably catalogued everything from my dress to my shoes to the way I held myself.
"Ms. Han. Welcome." His handshake was firm but brief. "What do you study?"
"Law, sir. Third year at SNU."
"SNU. Impressive." His tone suggested it was adequate but not remarkable. "And after graduation?"
"Law school applications. I'm taking the LEET in two months."
"Ambitious. Bok-Jin could use more ambitious people around him." He said it like Bok-Jin wasn't standing right there. "I hope you're encouraging him to take his studies seriously."
"He doesn't need encouragement," I said. "He's quite serious on his own."
Something flickered in his father's expression—surprise, maybe, that I'd contradicted him. "Indeed. Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. Han. Bok-Jin, we should discuss your summer plans. Stop by the office next week."
"Yes, sir."
He moved on to the next group, and Bok-Jin let out a breath.
"That went... okay?" I said.
"That went exactly as expected. Polite, evaluating, already planning how to manage the situation."
"Manage the situation?"
"You. Us. Whether you're an acceptable addition to the family narrative." He looked at me. "I'm sorry. This is why I hate these events."
"It's fine. I knew what I was signing up for."
But I didn't, not really. I'd known theoretically that his family would be like this. But seeing it—feeling his father's assessment like a spotlight—made it real in a way it hadn't been before.
At 7:00, Bok-Jin checked his watch. "You have Yoo-Na's dinner at 7:30?"
"Yeah. We should probably go."
"Thank god. I've hit my networking quota for the month."
We said our goodbyes—more handshakes, more business cards pressed into my hand, more promises to "connect soon." By the time we got to the car, I was exhausted.
"How are you feeling?" Bok-Jin asked as we pulled out of the parking garage.
"Like I just ran a marathon in heels."
"You were perfect. I'm serious. Everyone was impressed."
"Your father wasn't impressed. He was... evaluating."
"That's his default setting. Don't take it personally."
"Kind of hard not to take it personally when he's evaluating whether I'm good enough for his son."
Bok-Jin reached over and took my hand. "You're more than good enough. You're brilliant and capable and you held your own in a room full of people who've been training for this their entire lives. I'm so proud of you."
"I overheard something. In the bathroom."
"What?"
"Two women talking about us. Saying your family usually steps in after a few months if the girl isn't from the right background. That we probably won't last."
He was quiet for a moment. "People love to gossip about my family. It doesn't mean anything."
"Doesn't it though? Your father looked at me and immediately calculated whether I fit into his plans."
"My father looks at everything that way. It's not about you specifically—"
"It's absolutely about me specifically. About my background, my family, whether I'm 'suitable.'" I took a breath. "I'm not saying I can't handle it. I can. But let's not pretend it's not happening."
"You're right. I'm sorry. I just—I don't want you to think any of that matters to me."
"I know it doesn't. But it matters to them. And eventually, that's going to be a problem."
We drove in silence for a moment.
"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I don't care what they think. You're who I choose. That's not changing."
"Even when they start actively interfering?"
"Even then."
I wanted to believe him. I really did.
We pulled up to the restaurant where Yoo-Na's dinner was being held—another fancy place, because apparently this was just my life now.
"You going to be okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Yoo-Na's event will be easier. I actually know her."
"Text me when you're done? I want to make sure you get home safe."
"I will." I leaned over and kissed him. "Thank you. For tonight. For being there."
"Always."
I got out of the car and watched him drive away, then took a breath and walked into the restaurant.
Round two. At least this time I knew one person.