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The Better Half and Half

begins...

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CHAPTER ONE | finding a perfect husband for my sister | CHOI HANEUL

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After three months>>

I wish I could tell Molan there were good reasons to take a chance on marriage again.

1) It will help the couple to understand the marriage memes better.

2) You wear your husband's clothes more and start saving money.

3) You maintain the highest level of personal hygiene by waxing to the bones because there existed infinite chances of having sex anywhere.

4) More babies.

5) Contentment.

Er . . .

This would have been conducive only if Molan was ready to hear me out. My dear sister had shown no inclination toward the prospect of getting hitched lately. So, I knew I had to step into her dull life with angel wings to amend the definition of second marriage in her dictionary.

My eyes started burning from watching boys swarm everywhere. The lounge area that covered most of the widest areas indoors was chock full. Others resorted to beelining outside our grand mansion. All manner of voices stung in my ears as if I was distributing a stash of illegal drugs and everyone wanted it. Besides, the noise was just them asking for the application form and sweating to the insides.

Yes.

This session was held in an attempt to soften my sister's four-year-held belief of not marrying anyone. Of all the rich industrialists vying for her attention, I invited some of them through uploading Molan's profile on a matrimonial website.

"Here, take this." I smiled.

"Thank you," he stated through his teeth and bowed down; the button on his navel persisted the odds of his two-round-tube stomach.

"I think you stand a good chance to qualify for the second round." I winked in a friendly manner, eyeing his exceptionally stout body.

"You think so." He leaned in, disbelief palpable on his face.

"I know so," I declared confidently as I shrugged my one shoulder. Hands glided on the chair's arm as I slithered backward. So I proceeded with the most vital question, "By the way, what do you do?"

"I have three shops of bathroom ware in Itaewon, two in Seoul, and one has its grand opening date soon in Barcelona."

That's it. My smile reached my ears, with the profound happiness of meeting the man I had been hunting since eons ago. "Wow, that means you must have seen more money than kimchi on your eating table."

He nodded. "And you'd be delighted to know that this year's profit turnover has increased manifold times." Now it was his turn to hop in pride and all smiles.

"Oh! Excellent! I hope she chooses you." I was going to burst out of happiness. The man returned on his heels, utterly lost as he jostled with the other baffled aspirant. The sudden flush of emotions siphoned off my face as I struggled to catch my breath in front of a seventy-year-old, much-feared, dauntless Uncle Mojo darting through his thick-rimmed glasses.

A twitch on his face had mixed feelings to it, so I asked him as normally as I could, "Good afternoon, Uncle Mojo. So nice to see you here. But excuse my expression, weren't you supposed to get here this evening?"

I saw a caramel-colored suitcase in his hulk-shaped hand. He was formidably strong even in the jejune days of life and held a cane stick in the other.

He didn't answer my question, instead motioned me to lean in. Obliging, I placed my hands on the sides of the table and squinted as I wasn't prepared to receive his brute blows on the head in public. That would be so humiliating. I remembered when I had met him last, he disgraced my image by calling me a loud and mannerless brat. Sadly, he would still find me as the same.

"What are these brand new faces doing at our mansion in my absence? Perhaps, are you carrying out a census to hand over statistical data to the government? Finally, you have realized you are growing up," his voice had an aristocratic tenor, as sarcasm sat proudly on his features.

The boys ambling around him, suddenly cornered, as though Uncle Mojo's classic clothes and brooding attitude lorded over everyone. Some peered at him with respectful intention, and others made mental notes about his dress style by scanning him from head to toe. His eyebrow reached the edge of his checkered-beret hat.

"Eh, it's not like that. T-they have been called upon by me. Um . . . I'm playing a bit part in finding a suitable man for Molan. You know it has snatched my peace of mind, ever since I pondered about her lonely life."

He looked astray. "Work wholeheartedly then."

"Of course," I replied in sugar-coated Korean, even surprised by my accent. "Do you want me to carry your suitcase to your room?"

"Why? Do you think I walk with a limp?" he snapped and waddled through the crowd to his room.

As he disappeared, my tight body muscles began to relax.

The main reason that pushed me to undertake this giant task was to wipe out Uncle Mojo's over-sentimental surge to get Molan's four-year-old daughter a father who would love and support her, so much so, that it was inflicting pain on him.

God, just take me with you.

A quick recap: My mind was issuing into depression not just with the unexplainable pain pricking in Uncle Mojo's eyes that I had to suspect daily, but because I had my very own wending problem attached. Kim Taehyung, a semiliterate chauffeur whose value in sum was equal to the dirt collected on the tip of Uncle Mojo's rending Italian shoes. He was my boyfriend. It hit me hard ─ the unspoken reality of the poor-rich divide, and Uncle Mojo's active resistance to lower-class people.

I knew he would trash my choice and assort to bring a wealthy son-in-law who would inset gold, diamond, and topaz in his public image. I had to start sweating blood so that I could convince the elder who possibly couldn't and wouldn't stomach the reality.

"Okay, next candidate. Please come forward," I announced and tucked a curl behind my ear.

I blew out air through my mouth and sipped on my cold coffee kept on the desk to beat my exertion. I stretched my arms and ran my gaze around momentarily, checking out the standards of the throng of edgy and modern guys, leaving a few of them who would better get the word 'defeat' tattooed on their faces, as they were busy scribbling on their forms.

I reclined back on my cushy chair only to close my eyes and take some rest, while I hummed a tune of a self-made song, mainly inspired by the misery I went through.

For some definite reason, I started developing a rancid aversion to men and would willingly take a fall in the deepest and widest of oceans, than have any boy at the tail with a great big diamond ring. I opened my eyes to slits, and my wristwatch read quarter to twelve. She should be on her way from the airport, and it will take her approximately two hours to reach here.

I pulled myself off the chair, yawning against the shiny fabric of my bomber Oxford blue jacket.

"May I have your attention, handsome hunks!" I cleared my throat and reached a pitch to make sure the announcement shouldn't go unheard by the bunch of pitiful boys cooped up in the corner of the hall. "Any moment now Molan would be here. So, better prepare yourselves for that big shot."

I noticed the sudden wave of apprehension and unsettling movements at the end of my speech. I deserted back on the seat, biting the butt of the pencil as I put a tick beside everyone's name on the sheet.

57 boys have already checked in, I repeated in my head.

In the wake of a huge shadow overcast upon me, I got back to my duty, grabbing the pen in my hand. "Your name?"

"Kimchi-fried-rice."

I tittered with disbelief, shaking my head. "And your address, somebody's round belly?"

And once I lifted my head, it was him.
Eric Nam, my Korean-American cousin who had outstayed his welcome and had no plans of returning to his house. He was wearing a dangling grey shirt and black track pants that were folded around the hem; his fleshy eyes twinkled with surprise. "What the fuck is this? Some kinda audition going on?" He raided the drawer attached to the lower portion of the desk and found a basket of confectionery.

"Audition for you, and census for Uncle Mojo. Good."

"What? Is he here?" Panic gripped him.

"Yeah, and this time he has come with a whole ass suitcase. It's about time we should bid goodbye to our happy days." I offered him a lollipop, tittering solemnly. "Time to celebrate our melancholic hols bro."

He smacked a hand on his forehead. "Anyways, didn't he object about this audition or whatever?"

"I told him the motive behind this directly," I stated simply.

"Bruh, girl, will you get down to brass tacks, please? Why do you have all the men population proliferating in here?" He unwrapped the lollipop and sealed it within his mouth, skeptically glaring at everyone.

"It's day one, Eric. The entire Korean men are expected to come here by tomorrow for the second slot." I grabbed his arm and made him take a seat next to mine. "There's lots of work that I have to do. Gosh, I need someone to help me, I'm exosted. Could you just fix the board on the outside, it's slightly tilted? No, then maybe you could fill the water cooler for the applicants?"

He passed me a perilous glare and blood rushed to his ears. "Where is Noona? Does she know about this?"

I told off my smile to change into a straight line right after he had mentioned her name. I chewed on my lower lip while rubbing my bare knees to muster up the courage. Not sure, how would he receive the information. Nevertheless, I went on with nullified emotions, "Jokes apart. It's a husband hunt for Molan. And if things work out, she'll be walking on the aisle with her so-and-so that she chooses from these extremely bankable men."

"W-what a husband hunt? Come again." His eyes grew bigger, and he almost spat at my face. His braying laughter irked me and I wanted to slap some hard. "And marriage? As if she's gonna marry anyone from these?"

"Darn, bozo, don't tell me you think she's gonna marry each one of them. Making love to different men on an everyday basis will make her the originator of a new country on the world map," I joked in my outrageous characteristic pitch.

His face morphed into an abnormal man's, which threw a poor example of a very funny expression.

"Look at him." I pointed at a man with his smooth chest peeking from his leopard printed shirt, only to cease Eric's angry look; the said man's long wavy hair framed his face elegantly. "A sexy replica of Harry Styles, that is. I think he stands a good chance to let her play with his hair. I don't know. Well, they might as well do well together. Who knows? "

I regretted the spontaneous flow of my words only since Eric chose no violence today.

"Do well together?" he repeated with utmost conformity. "Haneul, I think you have planned everything as per the half-baked hearsay in the circle, for which I wouldn't deem blaming you. But, let me tell you that she has no interest in rich men. She's looking for someone who probably stays in a pigsty, wears a shabby cape, begs for food, and has dirty hair. Not like them. Dressed up in suits." His tone blasted in my ears like a volcano. Hot and torturing.

"What are you saying? My sister will never marry a homeless chap."

"Because while you were enjoying your halcyon days in California, you were never told about what happened here. And I had to overhear the discussion of Molan's unconventional condition over marriage between my parents over dinner."

"Whatever, someone from these boys will make her rethink her decision. I'll endeavor to text you the name of the groom by the end of this spree. Now go away if you are here to eat my brains out."

He rolled his eyes, getting up. "Consider finding someone for yourself, better than that uber driver, Kim Taehyung."

I scoffed. "Don't call him an uber driver! He used to drive a cab two years ago, and now he has got a stable and viable job as Molan's chauffeur." Having Taehyung by my side had been no less than any pensive tension. I was tired of playing hide and seek, every time I had to meet with him and maintain the spark in our fresh relationship. Like an enemy, Eric had a breadth of reasons as to why he hated him, and his job so much. Frankly speaking, his thoughts regarding Taehyung had disposition now. I too started to think of points to keep him at bay, until I felt a natural inclination toward men.

I'm becoming allergic to men.

A man as thin as a post, who had been buzzing around the irises of my eyes, approached me finally. His baggy pants clinched to his tiny waist with his legs and hips seemingly missing from his pants. A bucket hat covered his face to the bridge of the nose, and tongues stuck out in thirst for something more than just water.

"Hey, could I ask you something?" the guy's voice was quite heavy and appealing, unlike his personality.

As Eric gave a nonchalant nod to him, he glanced at him in a concerned way in another minute, keeping a hand on his fragile shoulder blade. "Hey, mate your health isn't cooperating. Just don't go bonkers over this. She will throw you out like gum after sucking all that's sweet. But I guess you are safe, cause you don't have it-"

Thankfully, I did something good as I kicked his butt at the right moment and pushed him with a violent force into the crowd. I wasn't a fan of his sense of humor especially when it went overboard. "Bugger off, bozo!"

"I'm breaking up this friendship with you," his acrimonious retort wasn't anything new to my ears. Sarcasm acted like an adhesive to our friendship. "By the way, your uber driver has come." He pointed a finger with a silly grin on his face.

My eyes floated to the man afar ─
standing at the door frame was Kim Taehyung. Away and unattractive to grab anyone's attention. He was peeping desperately at the audience with his white hat pressed at his abdomen. For he had, right from the off, been affected by the rich and the poor demarcation so much that I knew he would never accost me even after seeing me surrounded with so many men at any event.

"Just fix the damn board before exiting," I still managed to murmur a purposeful fact at Eric who seemed to have lost in the crowd. My eyes fixed on him and his roaming everywhere and stopping to meet mine after a split moment.

My Mum was in London for two months because of Dad's ill health. He recently underwent heart surgery for which he had been advised to be kept under the supervision of affiliated doctors for some time. And it was during this course of time that my summer vacation boredom kicked in. Therefore, I trespassed the boundary and hit a guy who I was seeing regularly. He used to pick Molan up for the office and bring her back. He did not see it coming either, because of our status mismatch. But God had some different plans.

Taehyung beamed and I cut a route through the hordes to hold his hand and bring him to a secluded area that had a colossal pillar to hide us from the public eye safely. The noise from the hall long receded, there was humble silence ringing. He answered in a suppressed tone, "Baby, you look so tired." He touched the faint half-moons that had gathered under my eyes, still trembling on his toes.

I nodded my head briskly. "Tae, I think it's going to work this time. I'm positive. Up next, I'll tell Uncle Mojo about us. I'll do everything to make our relationship acceptable." My hands traveled to his arms, the heat generated from the rub somewhere assured me that things would turn right.

"That's good, then. But don't overwork─"

He couldn't conclude his sentence, for it was the rash onslaught of my lips, making our liplock exist for a brief second. Taehyung who was unprepared, dug his fingers in my hair to remain static and went for a kiss on my forehead softly. "You are doing great. Tell me if you need any sort of help? That doesn't depict my interference in it." He narrowed his eyes, holding me by my waist. "Sorry."

I looked in his eyes, a ghost of a simper on my lips. "Don't have to be sorry. I understand. Anyway, I'll see you tonight." My fingers seemed to be angry with the thought of prying off. He slightly pouted and we both retreated our steps back with a facade of not knowing each other.

A/N

Is anyone excited to know more about this feisty couple?

Hello, I'm Dahab. I'm planning on writing a light-hearted book which will bring some emotional events in end. For now, no worries. It's gonna be a whole ass funny book, not just take a look would be enough, your votes and comments are welcomed here ;)

This story is copyrighted by ©Gossiplanet 2021.

This is my first draft, feel free to point out mistakes sanely and I'll fix them. Ty :-)

(Please vote and comment cool peeps.)