✧--wrong place wrong time
Soo Bin didn’t know what she expected.
She didn’t even know what she was doing. Why did she even agree to this blind date in the first place? It’s not like she ever had a particularly significant human connection with the neighbor that pitched the idea to her. Maybe she was also sufficiently shocked by the fact that the doddering auntie in her hall was sufficiently concerned about her lack of a sex life that she would make such a proposition to an effective stranger. It’s not like she was particularly fond of the concept of blind dates either.
She was far too confident in her ability to find true love when she was younger to even go to a mixer. She never would have agreed to a blind date then. Nowadays, she thought that she was just far too cautious, but it looked like she wasn’t. She had a hell of a time talking herself up to going. She stared at the mirror reaffirming her attractiveness to herself before deciding that she was going to be bolder person than who she usually was. This Soo Bin wasn’t a deeply insecure girl who was floundering in all aspects of life. This Soo Bin went on blind dates at hot dinner spots and liked red wine and stiletto heels. This Soo Bin was going to be assertive and sexy, and she would get what she wanted.
She shaved for god’s sake. She got all dressed up in an expensive dress that was a bit more revealing than what she normally would have been comfortable with. She heat styled her hair. She put on dark eye shadow and red lipstick. And then she sat by herself at a table five minutes after the date was supposed to start. She almost felt excited about it all. There was a little bit of anxiety from how she was the first to show, but then she learned the name of the date from the reservation for the table, and Lee Kikwang sounded like a good name. If she knew his name, he wasn’t really a stranger, and that made her feel better. She started to feel like being this other girl and being on this blind date could be what got her out of the rut she had been in. But as the minutes ticked by, and the single glass of wine she ordered to keep her company turned into three, the pit in her stomach just grew and grew.
When the waiter came back around with a hesitant question as to whether she would be dining alone that night forty minutes after she sat down, there was only so much that she could do to keep from embarrassing herself even further. She didn’t even trust herself to speak. She just shook her head and put down more than enough money to cover the wine before rushing out of the restaurant.
She managed to hold herself together, strutting down the sidewalk with her head high and eyes damp until she found a convenient bench to collapse onto. She must have been deluded. What would a low cut dress be good for if her date didn’t even show up? Who did she even think she was? What a pathetic image she must cut: a scandalously clad girl crying in a public park at 8pm.
