Chapter 122: Soup-Stained First Impressions

Arrivals hall, Los Angeles International Airport.

After smoothly finishing the immigration process, I headed out to the arrivals hall with my suitcase, which had come out faster than others thanks to my first-class privileges.

Because I had come out earlier than most, the arrivals hall was relatively quiet. As soon as I stepped out, I spotted my name written on a large sign.

"Mr. Lee!"

Standing there was the Black bodyguard I had met previously at Grace’s pool villa party. He was waving his hand and calling my name.

"Thank you for coming to meet me. We’ve met once before, haven’t we?"

"I remember. I’m Tommy."

"I’m Lee Junghyuk. It’s a pleasure to see you, Tommy."

Tommy, who had a burly physique, smiled brightly as he personally took my suitcase for me.

Unlike when he was on security duty at the party, he seemed like a very pleasant person when he smiled.

"I have the vehicle waiting so we can leave immediately."

As I followed Tommy out of the airport, a black van was waiting.

I wondered if that was the car, and seeing Tommy put my suitcase into the trunk without hesitation, I climbed into the van with a satisfied expression.

"The car is nice. It’s very spacious and comfortable."

"Grace told me to take special care of you, Writer. I will ensure you are served without a single bit of discomfort during your stay in LA."

With the smooth sound of the engine, the van began to glide onto the road.

It wasn’t long before a massive American-style highway appeared, and the view opened up wide.

'They say everything is big in America. From the roads to the cars, everything is incomparable to Korea.'

I had the experience of living as a son-in-law to a chaebol family once, but I had virtually no experience overseas except for Bali, where I went on a reward vacation, and Japan, which I visited for meetings.

'I didn’t even go on a honeymoon under the pretext of work, and Jeon Minjeong always handled her overseas schedules alone.'

Clearly, my life now — having established myself as a drama writer — was much more abundant and happy than when I was with Jeon Minjeong.

Tommy, who was driving, spoke to me casually.

"By the way, your English is better than I expected. I had an interpreter on standby just in case, but it seems that won't be necessary."

"You flatter me. I can only manage basic communication, and my pronunciation is poor. Haha."

"For a foreigner, your English skills are excellent, Writer."

My pronunciation wasn't great, but the reason I could handle basic conversation was thanks to the experiences I had accumulated in the past.

It wasn't that I had studied abroad or particularly grinded through English studies during my school days.

Oh, of course, I did study English hard during my university years.

To receive a scholarship, high grades in English, which was a required elective, were essential.

To add to that, it doesn't mean I actually received the scholarship.

Of course, the thing that helped the most was the work of creating subtitles for illegally downloaded American dramas.

Naturally, illegal downloading is a heinous act like a cancer cell in the market. It was something I did during my immature days when I lived hand-to-mouth, and I have no intention of ever doing it again.

Nowadays, various OTT platforms have emerged, and there are more than enough ways to watch various contents legally.

'At that time, there were too many American dramas and movies that couldn't be watched through official routes.'

In those days, subtitles weren't as accurate as they are now, so I ended up making them myself.

"Watching many works produced in English-speaking countries since I was young helped a lot."

"Is there a series among the ones you watched back then that I might know?"

"Hmm, let’s see. The one I enjoyed the most was a show called Friends."

"I see. So that’s why."

"What do you mean by 'that’s why'?" I asked Tommy, who was showing an implicit smile.

"It’s because your way of speaking is like a middle-aged man in his fifties, just like my father. I’m not trying to tease you, but the vocabulary you use doesn’t fit your age."

"Holy..."

Behind his burly physique and charismatic appearance, Tommy’s age was actually...

"My age? I’m twenty-six. What about you, Writer?"

"I’m thirty-eight this year. We have a full twelve-year difference."

We both glanced at each other with faces that said, 'I didn't take you for that age.'

To think that this sturdy man with that physique and that face was an American Gen Z.

I didn't like feeling the generation gap when he said he had never seen Friends, so I changed the subject. I chose a topic that works universally regardless of nationality or age.

"By the way, is there a restaurant nearby? I haven't eaten a single meal, so I'm a bit hungry."

"Is there a menu you want?"

"Well, it's my first time in America, so I’d like to go to a place like one of your regular spots, Tommy."

"I do have a favorite restaurant near here, but I'm worried it might be too local."

Originally, writers were all afflicted with the hipster disease.

Hipsters don't really want to go to common franchises or overly famous restaurants when they travel.

It’s always best to go to a local favorite or an old, established shop.

After about ten minutes, we reached a large, bustling area.

"I have a favorite restaurant here in downtown."

Since it was daytime, there were quite a few tourists and it looked peaceful, so it didn't seem particularly dangerous. However...

"It’s fine during the day, but you must never walk around here at night."

According to Tommy, when night falls, there are many crime-ridden areas where even parking a car is dangerous.

After moving the car to a parking lot inside a safe building, we stepped outside.

The restaurant I arrived at following Tommy was a fairly large establishment that occupied the inside of an alleyway tucked away from the main road.

When I opened the massive wooden door and entered, the noisy interior filled with people caught my eye.

There were mostly African Americans, so being Asian, I stood out even to my own eyes.

Even if I looked at the menu, it would be difficult to predict what would be delicious, so I left the ordering entirely to Tommy.

"Give us the brisket BBQ platter, mac and cheese, butter beans, and fried chicken. And just put gravy on top."

Looking at the composition of the menu and the customers, it seemed to be a type of soul food favored by African Americans in the southern United States.

After finishing the order skillfully, I sat in the restaurant and slowly looked around the shop.

The walls were filled with photos of celebrities posing with an elderly man who appeared to be the owner, making it look like a long-standing local favorite at a glance.

"It’s likely one of the oldest restaurants in LA. Normally, it would be an intimidating place for an Asian like you to enter alone."

Tommy wasn't making a racist comment.

It was because the atmosphere was such that if someone like me accidentally entered, they might say, "Sorry, I am Chinese," and bolt out of there.

In fact, as soon as Tommy left his seat to take a phone call, the implicit gazes pouring toward me made the pores all over my body prickle with goosebumps.

And when a passing employee accidentally spilled something dark and bean-like — a soup of some kind — onto my jacket.

'How dare an Asian come to our restaurant?'

I even mistakenly thought I was receiving this kind of malicious welcoming ceremony.

I wanted to shriek like a hen at any moment from the heat of the soup seeping into my jeans, but...

'That Asian guy looks ridiculous covered in soup! Haha!'

I didn't say a word, fearing that typical American Harlem bullies would come out and mock me further.

I just smiled brightly as if nothing were wrong.

"Wow, haha, it’s okay."

I took a tissue from the table and wiped my pants.

The employee who made the mistake apologized repeatedly, asking if I was okay, and even the manager rushed over.

"It was our mistake, so you may claim laundry or medical expenses at any time. We are sorry once again."

Thanks to them speaking so kindly, my mind actually felt more at ease.

"Mistakes happen. I don't think I'm hurt, and I can just wash the clothes, so don't worry about it."

Only after looking like a loser in a teen school drama covered in food was I able to regain my peace of mind.

"If it’s not rude, may I ask where you are from?"

While I was busy wiping the soup off my jacket, an elderly gentleman in gentle attire with a deep voice spoke to me.

The elderly Black gentleman who spoke to me was wearing a crisp light blue dress shirt and an ivory jacket. He had an impression that looked quite fastidious and stubborn.

"I’m from Korea. The South, of course."

"I see."

I felt a bit burdened by the elderly man's gaze as he scanned my body.

"Excuse me, why are you looking at me like that?"

Noticing this, the elderly man waved his hand with a dignified face, as if telling me not to misunderstand.

"I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just that the clothes you are wearing are actually from a brand I enjoy very much."

"Ah, I see."

In truth, I didn't know the brand of the jacket I was wearing very well.

It was a jacket from a brand called "Florence," and I was only wearing it because Grace had bought it for me as a gift at a luxury department store in Korea.

"It’s my first time seeing an Asian wearing that brand."

"So that’s why you were looking. Haha."

"I don't mean anything else by it; it's just that Florence is a brand that hasn't gained much popularity in the East yet."

"I don't know much about this clothing. It was a gift from a friend."

The elderly gentleman nodded and complimented me, saying the clothes suited me well, and I also exchanged pleasantries, saying the clothes he was wearing were very stylish.

"You must be very close with the friend who gave you the clothes. Was it a gift from a girlfriend?"

"I did receive it from a woman, but she’s not my girlfriend."

"A woman who gives Florence as a gift... I know someone like that among my acquaintances. If she gifted these clothes, she must be a charming woman."

"Hahaha, she is charming."

Unlike his fastidious impression, I developed a bit of interest in the elderly gentleman, who used a way of speaking that felt polite yet considerate of the other person.

"This is a fateful meeting, so let’s introduce ourselves. I am Darren Smith."

"Nice to meet you, Darren. I’m Junghyuk Lee."

"Junghyuk, I have one question. Florence is an expensive luxury brand. Is there a reason why you didn't hold anyone responsible just now?"

He seemed to be referring to the waiter accidentally spilling soup on my clothes earlier.

"Even if it’s expensive, clothes are just clothes. And I thought it would be too harsh to demand responsibility for these clothes over a mistake that wasn't intentional."

"Too harsh. You are very considerate."

"I also had experience working in a restaurant like this when I was young."

"Hmm, I see."

I didn't know how much American wages differed from Korean ones, but thinking back to when I worked for less than ten thousand won an hour, the employee who made the mistake would have to pay several months' worth of wages.

I had to handle it carefully since it was a gift, but I didn't want to demand responsibility to the point of bringing misfortune to someone.

And I felt that acting so strictly would make the start of my first trip to America uncomfortable.

As I explained my inner thoughts clumsily, Darren chuckled, saying in Korean, "You’re quite a rare young man these days."

"It was a pleasure. I hope to see you again if our paths cross, Junghyuk."

"It was a pleasure for me too. It looks like you're leaving now."

"Yes, I have to return to my company."

Darren, standing up, nodded to me in greeting and walked out the door.

Tommy came in through the door Darren had just exited.

He apologized for being away for too long, then asked in shock after seeing the soup stain on my clothes.

"Good grief, what happened while I was gone? Did someone act racist toward you?"

"No, not at all. Everyone in this restaurant seems like a good person. Hahaha."

"I don't think that's something someone with that on their clothes should say."

I shook my head with a smile on my face while looking at the door Darren had exited.

"Somehow, I think my upcoming schedule in America will be quite enjoyable."