김혜인, 32 ⎯ intro / overview / background / pinterest
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김혜인, 32 ⎯ intro / overview / background / pinterest
bitna:
( ... ) “Don’t worry about bringing it over — I’ll stop by and say hi to grandpa. I found some old photos of the farm a few days ago and I’ve been wanting to show them to him; maybe get them developed if he likes any of them. And your mom would probably like these fancy strawberries I got from the mayor; more than me, anyway.” The sun is low and the porch light’s been broken since last Tuesday, so it’s just enough cover for her nerves as she smiles over at Hyein. Her fingers worry a cracker into grain. “Just let me know when you’re free. I’ll make the time.”
In some form, she hates Byeon Bitna; or rather, in some form, Hyein resents Bitna. There's the story of Seoul, and the time Hyein came to visit Bitna and the misery that ensued. She doesn't waste much time thinking about it these days, mostly because she's half forgotten it as a form of self-preservation, and also because it does them no favors. The version of Bitna that exists in the autumn of 2014 is not the Bitna that sits before Hyein in the spring of 2026. A misnomer, despite whatever collateral damage that becomes of it, is still a misnomer and invariably must be forgiven. Still, though, Hyein's resentment lingers, buried deep beneath the surface.
Taking another sip of the makgeolli, Hyein watches as oranges meld into pinks and pink turns to inky dark blues. It'll be dark soon enough, and the responsibilities of tomorrow will begin to call. Her father has a doctor's appointment tomorrow, and her mother has a hair appointment; Hyein will chauffeur for both. The envy bubbles up in her gut as she thinks about it. Bitna's blessed in ways that are innumerable; she's pretty (always has been), her parents too have money, she has the benefit of growing up in Seoul with her Gyeonggi accent and proper pronunciation, and best of all, Bitna can leave whenever she wants to. If the shoe were on the other foot, Hyein thinks she'd leave the house (ugly as it is) behind and find a new future to dive headfirst into. If she were Bitna, little would stop her from buying a plane ticket and ending up anywhere other than Seomri.
It's the envy that makes her thirsty, throwing her head back, letting out another sigh of contentment. Hyein finishes her cup again. She'll have to stop soon if she wants to get home safely, but still, for the moment, it's nice to feel young, even if jealousy gnaws blindly at her the more the alcohol settles in.
"You ought to come for dinner tomorrow." The invite is half-born out of penance; guilt and covetousness co-mingle and leave her somewhat nauseous. "It'll make Dad's whole week if you come. He hasn't had as many visitors since his stroke, but he lives for the ones he does get. Mom would like to see you too, she practically brags about how impressive you are to the other old ladies in town, y'know."
Hyein's fingers twitch. The cup is empty and the last vestiges of light sink into twilight. God, could she use a cigarette right now.
"As far as my mom is concerned, you're practically running city hall these days."
junggyu:
(...) “Remember when I’d fall off your damn horses when you used to teach me? How old were we—eleven? Twelve?” Junggyu looks ahead, above at the sun, and back at Hyein. “The training did me pretty good out there. Some things are never really left forgotten, muscle memory and all. So I’d like to thank you for that.” He stretches his arms out in front of him. “They asked if I had an instructor and I gloated that it was with some girl that I grew up with. I mean, not just some girl, but you know.” Junggyu continues, “Besides, how else was I supposed to say that you were a professional equestrian at twelve?”
The first time Kim Hyein meets Cha Junggyu, she's colored unimpressed. He's too skinny, too tan, too loud; Junggyu, she decides, is entirely too much. Still, her mother insists that Hyein give him a chance; Junggyu's grandmother is her oldest friend and therefore an extension of Park Youngja, just as Hyein is an extension of Nam Kyunghee. In short, their friendship is predestined.
As such, somehow Junggyu begins to grow on her. Despite the deafening nature of his voice, there's a soothing timbre to it when they talk quietly, and he spends his summers in Seomri equal parts confidant and companion. In time, she grows to miss him. Autumn to Spring have their own fresh miseries, and even with frequent phone calls and occasional meetings here and there, the distance is never quite made up, and only grows larger when he leaves for the military and again to seek the world.
Her letters always start the same way: astonishment and jealousy, paired with her desire to see him again. The more she begs him to return, the further Junggyu goes; such is life. That is their difference. Junggyu is a bird meant to fly high and far; Hyein is a tree, rooted and steadfast. Their fates barely touch. Still, like a tree waiting for a bird to nest, Hyein waits, writing letters about the mundane, begging him to visit once more—a selfish longing to make him stay.
Sometimes she feels guilty for her selfishness. Junggyu walks beside her in the wheat field as if time has not passed. Here, they're still twelve; the wider world is just a foreign, bizarre concept. Here, he is still her friend, and they waste afternoons on the useless and inane. For now, responsibilities do not exist.
"That's surprising." Hyein has half a mind to tell Junggyu how she read his letters from Mongolia over and over until the words began to fade from sun damage. If not for her fear that he might leave again at the slightest encouragement, she'd tell him how she lived vicariously through his adventures. Instead, she keeps her mouth shut and walks with her hands behind her back in an effort to keep them busy and to herself.
"You're pretty shit at horseback riding, you know, they might've been asking who to blame for your crimes against horses. Mongolians have an almost spiritual reverence for horses after all."
Her tone is serious and severe, but a telling smile plays at her lips.
"Honestly, I stopped teaching lessons because of you. I felt like I failed you so badly that I had no right to even attempt to teach anyone else how to ride. That's why I'm on horse training these days."
seongmin:
( ... ) "here," he offers, hand extended, half-grimacing against the sun. after she's taken it from him, he wipes the moisture left over on his hand onto his jeans. "how's your mom doing?" a loaded question. he takes a long drink, grimacing harder; the lemonade's sour, the topic's worse. but more than he owes her his absence, he thinks he might owe her this, too.
Han Seongmin is an idiot. Or, at the very least, he's wildly inept.
He hasn't breathed a word in Hyein's direction, not for days now, not since The Incident. Then, when he finally does choose to acknowledge her presence, he settles on the objectionable and bothersome: her mother.
"She's fine," Hyein replies in a clipped tone. Taking a long drink of the lemonade Seongmin brought over, ignoring the way the cold fills the cavity in her chest, chilling her to the bone. "She's doing what she always does. Setting up dates, though, if this latest one goes bad, she says she'll just sign up for a matchmaking service. Let someone else do all the work."
Looking up, Hyein half-hopes for a reaction from Seongmin, though she knows to expect nothing; true to form, he gives her just that. Frowning into his cup, he avoids her gaze, finding everywhere else to look. It's the kind of culpable idiocy that makes her blood boil.
"You know I went to the forge yesterday. Your boss told me you were off, which I thought was weird because the guy they sent to work as a farrier, you know, the little one that got kicked by the horse? He told me you were so backed up with work that's why you couldn't come over."
The indictment is stinging, and Hyein crushes the small paper cup for emphasis.
"I thought that was so weird, because that would imply you were avoiding me for some reason. Which is crazy because you were the one caught with your dick out, yet I'm the only one being punished."
She stands up and makes sure to stand in Seongmin's line of sight as she speaks. If he wants to avoid her, she'll make herself unavoidable then.
"If you want to know how my mother is, why don't you come over and ask her?" Her voice is low, and she stands close to him, making sure that her voice doesn't carry for others to hear. "Or are you ashamed?"
minhyun:
( ... ) "you got me, i'm back in seomri just to ruin your marriage prospects. no white dress for my hyein while i'm here." he chuckles, taking a sip of his drink and wishing he was smoking instead. her words make him smile. "at least one person here did," he says. not that he can fault his family. "well, suhwan too, but i bet it's just because i feed him." and his cousin surely needs any help he can get with that. "i missed being around you too, hyein-ah. but i'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so get used to me feeding you too." then, he smirks. "unless the vet can do that, of course," minhyun adds, teasing.
She hums as he speaks.
Minhyun's too tenderhearted, always has been, even in the moments where he ought to be ruthless. That's a fault of it's own, she thinks, to give one's self away so easily for little to nothing in return, a crime she's just as guilty of.
"My mom is trying to get me any husband she can" She says with a derisive wave of the hand. "The vet is just the biggest prize she can find. If you changed your opinion on kids she'd probably ask you too despite the divorce."
Hyein looks up at Minhyun through her lashes, regret obvious in her features. The topic of avoidable topics grows larger as the years go on; She does her best not to mention his father, or his mother, or his wife, or Junggyu.
Taking another sip of her drink she tries her best to mask the awkwardness of the subject. There's no one around to see them, and there's no real crime to be spoken of. Ahn Minhyun's wife left him, there's no real shame in it but still the ghost of what was lingers.
"Anyways," she says clearing her throat, "I don't know that he can cook, he doesn't really have the aura of someone who can if we're being honest. Sort of seems like the kind of son who was adored and spoiled growing up. You know, the kind of guy that wants a girl like his mother."
Pushing her plate away, she leans back in her seat and stretches. Comfortably satiated, the knowledge that she'll pay for her hubris later sits in the back of her mind but for now she's content. Minhyun is back and a sense of security has returned to her.
"That being said it's not that serious, just more of something to pass the time." Though, it goes without saying time is running out. She's getting older and her mother likes to remind her daily that fertility levels drop severely after 30. "So you're just going to have to cook for me until the end of time. Oppa, just think: you can move in onto the farm. You run the books and do the cooking, I run the farm and do the housework. We could be living an incredibly efficient dream."
jaehee:
( ... ) there’s something about her nature that makes him bold enough to jest. kim hyein is kind and nice, with the sort of endless eyes that can dress a man down to his motives — and perhaps it’s with this that he convinces himself that she’d understand. mother would’ve liked her. it’s just a pity that kim hyein is to seomri as leaves are to trees. though suppose you can learn a lot about a tree by studying its leaves. “i don’t think i ever asked you how the farm was coming along. we’re always so focused on the horses,” he confesses, and there’s this way his tongue shivers in his mouth as if at odds with the conversation. jaehee knows she can help him — he’s just not sure if this is the right way to go about it. yuna tugs at the leash as she beelines towards an adjacent bush, and he halts momentarily in his step to accommodate her. “what’s the competition like in this town?"
"Dog park is a bit of a generous term for it."
Seoul has dedicated spaces for its nearly 10 million residents and their pets; Seomri has none. Hyein wants to explain how it's unnecessary in the countryside: land is used for a purpose, usually agrarian; anything else is left untilled and wild. Not everything needs to be something else. She bites her tongue. It's not good to be condescending on a first date. Jaehee, however kind he is, is ignorant, and it's not a crime.
Clearing her throat, she clarifies her meaning. "There's a clearing up here and a waterfall a little further up. No one really lives up here either, so it's nice to take a dog to play. I might've oversold it to you earlier, though."
If she were more honest, she'd admit she chose the location for the secluded nature. Their first date had been in full view of downtown, seeing the sights or lack thereof as they added on mindlessly with polite conversation. Despite her better sense, Hyein thinks it'd be nice to get to know Jaehee. He's nice enough, asks questions in relation to her and what little he knows about her, speaks kindly, and seems at least to be genuinely interested in what she has to say.
"I won't bore you with the details," she says, waving off his polite deference, because it has to be polite deference. How interesting could the sale of a stallion and the status of the newborn calf matter to a man whose life is ruled by the 'pali-pali' life of Seoul? Her little excitements seem small by comparison. "Safe to say our farm is doing well, my family beat out the competition in our area ages ago, so the farm always does well enough."
The hill up to the waterfall is steep, and Hyein lapses into silence for a moment, save for the sound of the footsteps and the panting of their dogs; there's little noise to score the soundtrack of their journey. Still, it doesn't feel awkward, not really. Gripping the rope of Hodu's leash a bit tighter in her palm, Hyein bites her lip for a moment. There's a pressing matter about Jaehee she's been dying to ask. It felt rude upon their first meeting, and impertinent on the first date. But now, in the seclusion of the forest with the sun peeking through the branches above, the question feels less obtrusive. She takes her chance.
"If you don't mind me asking," She glances briefly at Jaehee as she speaks. He looks handsome, even out of the corner of her eye. Handsome in a way that wheat fields and apple orchards could never produce. "What exactly brought you to Seomri? Most people only come here because they have family and you⎯"
Have nothing, she wants to say. The words feel too harsh, and she finds herself looking up at the tree canopy, lost for a better word.
"Seomri isn't exactly a destination even it's residents want to be in, you know?" She risks a peek in his direction once more, if only to gauge his reaction. "Not that there's anything wrong with you coming here."
daeun:
(...) "her boss?" she asks loudly, not yet having reached hyein's table. when she does, she pulls out the chair across from her, indelicate; the legs scrape sharply against the floor. she takes her seat in the same way as always—sideways, legs crossed, one elbow on the table. seo daeun is incapable of maturity. she looks at hyein, trying very hard not to smile like a middle school boy who's just learned a dirty secret, and asks, "well, was he into it? before the wife found out, i mean." then she leans in, head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side in consideration. "and are you guys actually going to give them money? is that how it works now?"
"Of course, he was into it. She's fifteen years his junior and constantly telling him how smart and important he is." Hyein sniffs, her judgment and displeasure evident in the tone of her voice. "It's just that when his wife found out, the narrative conveniently changed. Apparently, he said Minji was just a wayward kid that needed some extra guidance outside of business hours, and his wife said she could get extra guidance at another company then."
Seomri these days is too slow for any real source of gossip; most of the time, they find it in those that manage to escape. There are lives to be had in Jinji and Suncheon, not so much in little backwater mountain towns.
"In any case, we've got to give her the money, don't we? Mom did the good auntie thing and cosigned on her apartment. If we don't help her pay, we're going to get a collection notice."
Pausing for a moment, she glances over at the barista and back to Daeun. There's more to the story, there always is in these sorts of situations, but Hyein can't help but think about the way Daeun's voice seems to carry across a room in the worst of situations. Still, the story has been raking through Hyein's mind for days now, and she's been dying to get the news out somehow.
"Plus, you know," she drops her voice down to a low whisper, hand up covering her mouth as she does just to prevent the chance of someone overhearing. "She's got a separate problem she's going to need help with now too."
Hyein motions about her stomach, making a large, rounded arching motion as she does to simulate just what she means to say. "Two problems in fact."
By rule of thumb, budae jjigae is best when Minhyun makes it. It's not as if Hyein doesn't know how; it doesn't take a genius to figure out the recipe, and she's spent the better part of her life watching Minhyun make it ad nauseam for her. Still, there's something missing whenever she, or anyone else for that matter, makes it. There's always something wrong; sometimes there's too much garlic, or not enough sausage, or too little cheese⎯ nothing ever quite matches up to Minhyun's food.
"My mom is going to kill you." She says after taking a long drink from her glass of soda. She's not allowed a beer when Minhyun's on the floor, he says it's out of brotherly concern, but Hyein's smart enough to know Ahn Hakyun's legacy lingers too close for Minhyun's liking, so she refrains from complaining, even if a beer would suit his cooking more. "She's set me up on a date for tomorrow, and I'm going to wake up all bloated and fat from all this sodium. It'll be your fault I don't end up marrying the vet, y'know?"
She takes another, unattractively large bite, slouching in her chair and humming in contentment. Tomorrow she'll have to go riding for three hours to make up for this amount of decadence, but she can't find it in her to caterwaul about it, not when the food tastes this good.
"That's your plan, isn't it? You're going to push me into spinsterhood so that you've got a constant companion in single misery, huh?"
There's no doubt in her mind that she's an unappealing sight. Mouth full of food, makeup-less, still wearing her farm clothes; if Minhyun were anyone else, she'd have the decency to feign feeling some shame . But Minhyun is Minhyun, and the fear of being judged is far behind her in his company.
"Fuck, this really is good." She takes a deep breath and leans back in her seat. The bloat no doubt will begin to set in soon and she'll hate herself shortly, but for now Hyein can only feel bliss. "I missed having you around. Seriously, I did."
CIRCLE THE DRAIN | ft. @tintenblunt
Her motivations are perfectly selfish ones; that's why she agrees to any of this. Son Jahee seems fine; he's handsome, well-educated, has a good job⎯ , the sort of character mothers go crazy for; Kyunghee certainly has. Still, Hyein chafes, ever so slightly, at the thought of another date. The first date had been obligatory, Kyunghee had told her too late (purposefully, Hyein is sure), so that she would be unable to send condolences and a contrived excuse as to just why she couldn't make the date. But the second date? It's entirely of Hyein's doing.
She means to let him down nicely. The speech is already planned in her head; she's supposed to tell him that this has all been very nice, but she can't really be bothered with dating. She has other commitments: the horses, her father, the idea of mixing business with potential romance, Seongmin (though that's neither here nor there), and a host of other things that leave her incapable of considering another date. But her plans fall apart the moment he asks her.
There's something sad about Jaehee's eyes; his smile is bright, but it never quite reaches his eyes. He doesn't beg her, but there's a pleading look in the way his brow furrows ever so slightly as he speaks, as his pupils dart back and forth. The yes slips past her lips before she catches herself. It's just taking their dogs for a playdate. Hodu is sweet and friendly, and Jaehee's dog, much like her owner, is alone and out of her depth. There's no harm in them befriending one another, and in any case, it keeps Kyunghee out of her hair.
Jaehee and his dog are already waiting for them by the time she and Hodu reach him, posted outside the dilapidated old houses that once housed miners. Part of her wonders if the town is a bit of a disappointment to a city dweller like him. Seomri must feel backward and dated, left behind while the rest of the country modernized.
"Hey." She calls out as she and Hodu reach within an earshot of Jaehee. Hodu barks happily as she calls out, her tail already wagging in eager anticipation at seeing the other dog. "I'm glad you managed to find your way over here. I was worried I gave you bad directions."
There's something awkward about her delivery, the way the words are said in her poor attempt at dropping her dialect so that she might sound somewhat more sophisticated. Her vowels are still too long and her accent too heavy. Stopping before Jaehee gracelessly, she sighs before smiling somewhat tightly. She's no good with strangers, too used to familiar faces and well-known personal histories.
"This must be Yuna then?" Her voice is polite, but her tongue feels heavy as she thinks of what to say next. Inept is no longer just a feeling but a fact about her as she demonstrates how maladroit she truly is, just like her mother had warned her not to be. "I don't know if you give her treats, but I baked some and brought enough for both of the dogs. They've got oats, sweet potato, carrot, and blueberry."
Her mouth goes dry for a moment. Son Jaehee, despite how kind he is, ties her tongue in ways embarrassing for a woman at thirty-two.
"Hodu loves them." She adds belatedly, as if trying to sell him on the snacks, "very healthy and all."
THE SOUND OF SETTLING | ft. @anagnorizein
bitna:
( ... ) She slips into her pale imitation of a kitchen nook and comes back with two metal bowls and a sweating bottle of makgeolli, waving them in invitation. “Break?” Moments pass and the bottle is half–empty between them on the back porch, a bag of rice crackers split open at the seam beside it. “Luckily for you my fridge is empty or I would’ve attempted pajeon. I don’t think you deserve that.” A swift smile into a sigh as she leans weight into her hands, gaze fixed on the hazy pink sky. “How I wish this town had food delivery.”
Sweat begins to bead on her brow as she kneels over the chair, assessing her work. There's pressure in the idea of working on someone else's property. A mistake on her own chair is negligible but for Bitna, equal parts meticulous and somewhat neurotic, Hyein feels inclined to do as perfect of a job as she can manage.
Another coat of stain would do, she thinks. Then again, perhaps not. The sun is getting low and they've been at this restoration project for the better part of the day. Hyein thinks to say something about giving it a rest before Bitna beats her to the punch.
A loud groan leaves her as she stands up, stretching stiffened joints and hearing the gentle pops of air leaving them as she does; maybe her mother has a point, perhaps she is getting old after all. Moving to the patio to sit, she takes a deep breath of the cool spring air. She likes this time of year, when flowers begin to bloom and the first fruits of the year begin to blossom.
"That reminds me, I made extra banchan so I could bring you some. I'll bring it over tomorrow so you can have enough for the week." Hyein says, letting out a sigh of contentment after finishing her latest bowl of makgeolli. "My dad is getting really worried you're not eating enough. He says he doesn't want to have to face your grandpa in the afterlife and tell him he didn't take good enough care of his granddaughter."
Routine dictates the bulk of her life, she realizes as she makes the short drive from the farm to Oni Cafe, that in most ways she's been more of an abettor than a victim of the regimen. Rarely, if ever, does she lean toward spontaneity; Kim Hyein instead is a creature of habit, choosing to take comfort in the mundanity of her life.
Friday mornings are no exception. This Friday, like every Friday for the last six-odd years, she finishes her horse ride, showers, and changes into a fresh set of clothes⎯ did she wear this outfit last week? She can't recall⎯ and makes her way to meet Daeun at work. Truth be told, she doesn't care much for coffee; her taste buds are more immature than she'll admit, and she doesn't enjoy the bitter taste and harsh notes of an Americano. However, Daeun is here, and it's all par for the course.
Hyein walks in, says a polite hello to the barista, orders the same hazelnut latte, drinks half, and waits for Daeun to finish her paperwork and sit with her.
This week, the latte is more bitter than usual, the barista has burnt the beans, and there's a harsh aftertaste that sits on the back of Hyein's tongue. Maybe she'll only drink a quarter of it today, if only to be polite. Wrinkling her nose, she folds her hands on the table in a bid to be patient, but the poor taste in her mouth. Instead, she calls out to Daeun.
"I don't think I ever finished telling you the news about Minji." Her voice seems to resound in the somewhat empty cafe, though it falls on deaf ears. Save for the barista, there's no one else to hear them. "Her mom was telling my mom that she attempted to try it on with her boss, and the guy's wife found out. Apparently, she's gotten fired from the clinic, so they wanted to borrow some money from us to give to Minji."
The gossip is a part of the act. Hyein leans back in her chair and takes another sip of her coffee. It's honestly reprehensible at this point, and cringes again before putting the drink down.
"I don't care if my mom is her grandmother's sister," Hyein clarifies, "asking us to pay for her mistakes is a bit much, isn't it?"
FAKE EMPIRE | ft. @selfmythologize
i am probably at work rn so rip this is drafted, but i am so excited for opening! i've got her stats and bg which gives some info but below is info to fill in some of the blanks for the resident horse girl, kim hyein. i don't have a lot to say but feel free to give this post a like and i'll reach out to plot!
background
kim hyein, 32, heir to haedam farm
seomri native born and raised has never lived anywhere else (and never will!)
childhood isn't like too crazy but it's one of those things everyone from seomri probs knows about so we'll get into a little family history and like general bg
hyein's parent's are p old (like they were literally born in the 40s) and sort of always struggled to have kids. they did have a son born in 1972 but he died in 1979 and then did not have another child until hyein in 1994 so you know their one little miracle baby
bc of this she's overindulged as a girl but also sort of saddled with the weight of her family's expectations bc like her family managed to hold the farm through the japanese occupation and got it back after the war like this farm means a lot to her family and tbh to the whole town and one day it'll be hers! which a lot of pressure to put on a 7 year old but you know her dad is pushing 60 and is a chronic smoker he's only got so much time
so anyways she's the chubby little sort of snobby child who's the apple of her dad's eye and tbh her mom is sort of disappointed in her because if she was going to have a daughter she'd want a pretty one just like her and instead she gets hyein who's chubby bc her dad can't tell her no when she asks for a treat and is too tan bc she spends all of her free time outside with the horses or on the farm doing whatever
and need i remind you being unattractive as a little girl is actually a crime!!! so tbh rip she's sort of bullied growing up not in a highkey way but in the way that everyone reminds you that you're fat and tan and you'll never be as pretty as your mom
anyways as a teenage girl she starts investing in her looks more (and also her mom put her on a diet that results in hyein having a poor relationship with food but it yielded results so???) but everyone is still like "wow you look so much better remember when you were so fat" and you know hearing that enough you'll start to think "you know what maybe i should move where no one knows who tf i am and doesn't know anything about me growing up"
only she never does leave because her parents are old and her dad's health isn't great and she's got the farm and responsibilities so sure you give up your dreams to follow your fate sometimes life is like that
nowadays she obviously works on her family farm as a horse trainer but she has her other little things that she does like she keeps bees (you only get honey from her if she actually likes you though) and takes care of her parents and does her usual routine of waking up early having tea going for a horse ride helping with farm operations etc etc it's not the most exciting life but honestly thinks he's gotten to a point where she loves the slow mundane things like really you have to romanticize the mundane in this life or you go crazy and she's at that point
personality
pretty introverted but nice enough is like the primary way to describe her idt she does anything to get the old folks in town complaining too much
you know maybe it's growing up with old people or bc u know slow life but she's a pretty patient person overall and nice enough to get along with
though like again she is kind of snobby (not as bad as her mom though like trust it could be worse) though more in the way that she'll judge you if you don't know how to ride a horse or if you're like scared of bugs type way not in a you're poorer than me way (for the most part anyway)
while she's mostly kind to everyone idk he doesn't necessarily like everyone you know some people... she's just tolerating politely
tbh kinda dreamy, likes sitting and doing nothing a lot, loves to sit at nokwon orchard and steal fruit (she gives them free eggs and honey so it's fine) and go cloud gazing
honestly in retrospect kind of funny she ever wanted to leave bc she is better suited for life in the country
plots
would love a plot of like other seomri natives who never left (or have been there entirely too long) and idk meet up at every friday at the wheat barrel and get drinks and hang out for a bit
childhood friends who are only friends bc their parents forced the relationship and maybe you don't get on that well but you're "friends"
someone who works on the farm or used to work on the farm!!! maybe they help out in the summer or something or they used to work on the farm when they were a teenager so they know hyein p well!
she's 32 and still not married so her mom is highkey concerned her daughter is an old maid so if you're a man over the age of 27 and has a college degree, decent job, and/or something so impressive about you that can't be ignored her mother has def tried to set y'all up on a blind date and trust hyein is embarrassed by it
idk anything else off the top of my head atm but like happy to brainstorm anything!!!
On the Beach at Night Alone (2017)