CHAPTER 2: Island of Pleasure (Part 1)

The first time Moon-kyeong met Seojun was just after she was promoted to the first soloist a year after joining the Olga Ballet Company.

Olga is notorious for not holding open auditions and rarely accepts foreigners who have not danced in their home country.

After seeing a video of her performance, Olga’s director contacted her, and Hye-ran jumped at the chance to send Moon-kyeong to Russia.

She flew all the way to Moscow alone and was forced to endure a ballet she hated rather than die, but what made it even harder was the intense scrutiny and disdain from the company.

It’s no wonder given how a tiny Asian girl was the center of attention and the darling of the company and was given major roles just a few months after joining.

Early in the morning, as she was leaving for rehearsal, Moon-kyeong took a picture and sent it straight to Hye-ran.

She was spreading jam on toasted bread when the phone rang.

Her forehead creased slightly, but she answered the phone in a cheerful voice.

“Yes, Mom.”

• Isn’t that the outfit you wore last Wednesday? I told you that even if you go to practice, you have to take care of your clothes. Change into something a bit more elegant. I prefer you wearing boots.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

Placing the disconnected phone on a high shelf, she continued spreading jam.

At that moment, a message arrived from Hye-ran.

<Don’t forget to attend the gathering in Saint Petersburg tomorrow at 9 PM. Try striking up a conversation with Lee Hee-jin from the Jeseong Group today. Anything will do; just try to build some connection with her.>

Saint Petersburg was a high society social gathering where the children of wealthy and powerful families met to exchange information and make connections in advance.

Lee Hee-jin was rumored to be a lecherous and promiscuous girl in this circle. In fact, a considerable number of chaebol scions in Saint Petersburg were known for the same.

Despite their well-packaged appearances, they were essentially the haunts of pleasure-seeking and indulgent drug users.

Their behavior was unrestrained because they had parents and money behind them to keep them in line.

Before she could take another bite of the delicious toast, Moon-kyeong threw the bread on the floor.

“Ha. Ha.”

She began to feel short of breath. 

What the hell am I supposed to be able to do on my own?

She envied them. 

She envied their life where they could do as they pleased and still have everything backed up.

Heat rose in her head, and her heart felt like it could burst at any moment. It had been over a year since she left for Russia, but her life seemed no different from when she was in Korea, and it infuriated her.

Hye-ran had called more than ten times in a single day, and her only friend from the orphanage kept tabs on her from time to time.

“Someone might found out.”

Just because she had been chosen by Hye-ran, Moon-kyeong was destined to carry her friend’s burden for the rest of her life.

She could no longer endure the behavior of the two, who seemed ready to stab her in the neck at any moment under the guise of sponsorship.

The reason Moon-kyeong kept Bora by her side, pretending to be oblivious, was because she understood, albeit foolishly. She understood her friend’s pain and misery at not being chosen by Hye-ran.

As she inhaled deeply, her gaze fell on a piece of bread, twisted into an odd shape, that she had thrown earlier. In the end, she realizes, as she does today, that no matter how hard she tries, nothing will change.

She cleaned up the bread and the scattered crumbs.

Without a trace, as if nothing had happened. Just like a person who never existed.

The next day, she woke up an hour earlier than usual. She changed into the outfit she was sending to Hye-ran, took a photo, and headed out the door in her gray sweatpants.

Spring had also arrived in Moscow.

The stark branches of the trees have sprung to life, and the wide streets are green.

Still, the air here was chilly and assertive. The fickle weather quickly turned to rain.

Moon-kyeong briskly walked into her favorite café. Every Wednesday, drinking coffee alone in the early morning was her own rule.

The cafe was open 24 hours a day, but the only time she could be found here was during this specific hour.

The three-story café was only open on the first floor in the early morning hours, and her favorite spot was the innermost seat in the main hall.

Occasionally, a cafe employee who recognized her face would speak to her, but she would ignore them and focus on her phone with her earphones in.

She didn’t want to be disturbed. She didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone in this small moment of tranquility over a cup of coffee.

She didn’t want to be interrupted by the life Hye-ran had given me.

One good thing. One bad thing. That’s how she could live.

Soon, she would have to enter the hellish practice room and move tirelessly on pointe until the sun set. So, now was the time to embrace something good.

Moon-kyeong turned on a movie she’d paid for and received a month ago. Watching the movie, flipping through the screenplay book, reading the script, and then watching the movie again was the only joy she allowed herself.

The second and third times she watched the movie, any details that she hadn’t noticed at first became apparent.

From the subtle acting of the actors to the director’s staged background and even the small props. Sometimes, the meticulous details gave her goosebumps.

The reason she loved the movie so much was the final scene.

The last line, uttered by the unfortunate protagonist with a twisted desire as he jumps from a 100-story penthouse, gave her a cathartic experience.

<I think I can breathe now>.

She decided not to question or measure her happiness by peering into others’ lives anymore, realizing how sad life could be.

Realizing that she was running out of time, Moon-kyeong drained the rest of the coffee. After sending the photo she took earlier to Hye-ran, she put her phone down. Strangely, her gaze became entangled with someone.

An Asian man with black hair, just like hers.

He looked a little familiar. She tried to remember where she’d seen him before, but it wasn’t a face that came to mind immediately.

Who is he?

The man’s eyes were silent yet fiercely intense at the same time. Though she couldn’t put her finger on why, feeling as if he had been watching her all along, she averted her gaze.

However, his gaze didn’t fall away from her. Unable to resist the palpable intensity even without looking at him, she stood up and left her seat.

She turned off the movie she was watching, packed up her earphones, and put them in her bag.

When she stood in front of the cafe entrance, it was raining more than an hour ago, but she couldn’t afford to hesitate. Moon-kyeong shoved her face under her hooded hat and ran to the practice room.

Even as she ran, she felt the sting of the man’s gaze through the glass window.

Thud, she felt uneasy.