Sweat beaded on my forehead, tracing lines down my face in the oppressive heat of the summer afternoon. The sprawling grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace shimmered under the relentless sun. Its distinct shape a historical jewel nestled in the crown of modern Seoul.
Somewhere nearby, the buzz of traffic hummed like a distant memory. Here time felt like it had stopped or at least slowed down long enough to trap me in a sweat-drenched prison of pink and yellow hanbok fabric.
Despite my love of historical dramas, why I let Soo-yeon persuade me to join her and her other eccentric live-action role-playing friends at this event was a complex answer. It's not like studying, working, or caring for my parents and siblings wasn't already enough.
I yanked at the bodice clinging to my ribs like a corset designed by an enemy. What had possessed me to agree to this?
Oh, right. Soo-yeon's speech.
"Live a little, halmeoni" Soo-yeon had said, her eyes narrowing in a judgmental tilt taking in my baggy sweat pants and the rag tied around my head.
My limited grasp of Korean included this word, and it alone had goaded me into coming. Twenty-something-year-old me. Compared to grandma.
If I were halfway to being honest though, I wasn't half as ambitious as my grandma. The moment I came home, off came the bra and shoes and I would flick on the television, sit on the couch and eat snacks until I fell asleep in a carb-induced coma.
I was an ambitious, yet lazy person without executive function with a wretched friend who knew how to get my chubby cheeks out the front door. Thus, here, I was, in the blistering sun, miserable, sweaty, and too fat for my hanbok.
I walked around the grounds, stopping periodically to rub my swollen feet.
I begrudgingly admitted the palace was as breathtaking as the Google Gods had promised.
As far as my eye could see lush gardens, ancient pavilions and majestic structures all but transported me to another era. The throne room loomed ahead, its majesty pulling me closer despite my discomfort. The intricate carvings, bold colours, and dragon motifs were like something out of a storybook—or my favourite TV binge.
Even though I had lived here for the past year, I still looked like a gobsmacked tourist when I made excessive eye contact with the central pathway that brought me to the throne room.
What had Soo-yeon called this place again? Gyeongbokgung Palace. KEYONGGGBOOOK ONG palace. I repeated, trying to say the word correctly in English. I moaned with embarrassment. Babies spoke Korean better than me.
"Gyeong...bok...gung?" I mumbled as I practiced the foreign word trying to get the pronunciation right. It still felt like a tongue twister. Two year olds definitely spoke Korean better than me.
Still, something about the place that made me want to know it better.
I wondered what sitting atop the elevated stone platform would be like. I imagined myself taking the stairs leading up to the regal perch flanked by carved rocks adorned with dragon motifs. The tips of my fingers itched to follow their snouts right to their pointy tails.
I continued to drink in every detail. The canopy rose above the emperor's seat, decorated with heaven's authority. To the side, an ornate folding screen decorated with the sun, moon and five mountainous peaks added privacy. Massive wooden pillars stained in vibrant reds and greens with intricate gold details forced my gaze upward, where dragons and phoenixes took flight across the ceiling surface.
Symbols of protection, immortality and authority whispered a memory from deep within me.
Shrinking back at the sudden appearance of a handsomely garbed man, I watched as he paced. His face was full of worry. Judging by his garments, he must be the guy playing the king.
"Do you know where you tread, Wanghu Mama?" Asked an unfamiliar voice from behind me.
The deep voice startled me, sending my heart into my throat. I spun around, instinctively bowing. My eyes darted upward to meet a stern gaze under the brim of a yugeon hat, its polished jade beads swaying gently near his chin. His expression was regal, his presence commanding, as though he really were royalty instead of just someone playing dress-up.
"How could I, unless guided by one of knowledge?" With a sly peek, I tried to glimpse his face.
His grammar was like that of a 16th-century scholar, and I hoped he could understand me.
As though offering me a look, the wide brim of his yugeon raised, his head tilting to allow his chilly gaze to meet mine.
Hadn't I read somewhere that even the beads of their hats told of their rank? Whoever this cosplayer was, his outfit was sure on point, I reflected, feeling a strange blend of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.
The corner of his mouth twitched, but his piercing gaze didn't waver. "Then follow the rules. This is no place for the careless."
Before I could respond, a commotion erupted outside the throne room. Shouts, scuffles, and Soo-yeon's unmistakable voice rang out. Voices rose in a heated argument, and I could hear the unmistakable sounds of struggle.
"I didn't cheat! That's ridiculous!"
I rushed outside to find Soo-yeon squaring off with a man dressed as a royal guard, her face red with indignation. In his hand, he held her phone aloft like a piece of contraband.
This wasn't part of the script.
"Stay here, " The man who stood before me ordered, his authoritative tone squelching any hint of argument. For a hot minute, I stared after his back, wondering who he thought he was that he could order me around.
I inched closer to the doorway. Soo-yeon, stood at the center of the chaos, fists clenched, face flushed with outrage. She was speaking Korean sharper than I'd ever heard.
Another player dressed as a royal guard seemed to be on the receiving end of it. Their argument was drawing a crowd, clearly signalling something had gone wrong.
"Soo-yeon," I called out. She glanced my way and her eyes filled with relief and desperation. "He says I've broken the rules, but I didn't." She pointed an accusatory finger at the guard, looking ready to smack him.
The guard, a burly man with a scowl etched deeply into his features, stepped forward as if to invite the tussle. "This is supposed to be an authentic experience," he growled, waving her smartphone. "And you're ruining it for everyone."
"Oh, please. It's practically an antique and works like it belongs in the Joseon Dynasty," Soo-yeon countered.
My heart sank. Soo-yeon was usually a stickler for the rules, but she also had a mischievous side. I rushed to her, hoping to defuse the situation.
"Please, everyone. It's a mistake." I appealed, looking around at the frowning faces.
The crowd's murmurs balanced the weight of their judgmental stares. If we didn't resolve this quickly, my friend might get kicked out and never allowed to return.
The man who played the king appeared, his presence commanding immediate attention. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, his voice echoing with the authority of his role.
"This girl has a modern device." The guard held out the phone with as much grace as one of the palace eunuchs.
The king took the phone, his eyes narrowing as he inspected it. To our surprise, he turned to Soo-yeon with a calm expression. "Did you bring this intentionally?"
Soo-yeon shook her head forcefully. "I must have forgotten to leave it behind because I was rushing." She looked at me as if to ask for backup.
My words came out in a rush. "I think she was so excited to bring me today, I kept sending her texts about where to meet-" I trailed off, knowing how forgetful my friend could be.
"You're new to our activity?" The king pinned me with a look, probably trying to recall if he'd seen me before.
My face, now four shades of red, confirmed it as I nodded.
The would-be king studied us for a moment. "Very well. We can overlook it this time, as long as it remains put away. Let's not ruin the day's enjoyment."
A collective sigh escaped us and swept through the crowd. The king's fair judgment seemed to ease the tension.
Slowly, people began to disperse, returning to their respective roles.
I smiled, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Maybe this live-action role-play thing isn't so bad after all. I was actually worried the king was going to toss us out.
Soo-yeon grabbed my sleeve as everyone dispersed. "I'm sorry, but I have a scene in the kitchen that only calls for four people, and there's no room to watch. Do you think you'll be okay?"
"Sure, I was in the middle of my own," I said, my thoughts on the man with the strong chin. "I was outside the chamber a few sections away, talking to some gardener. I'll start there."
"Good luck!" Soo-yeon called with a cheerful wave as she hurtled toward the kitchen.