wayshome

[wayshome]

ꕥ — there were few places isla thrived more than in the middle of a crowded room, some sort of event going on in the background of her own design. she felt it was only fair to enjoy the fruits of her labor this way and yield as many compliments as possible for her efforts as the corporate ceo behind it all showed her off to his guests and made sure they knew he was the one who'd brought her on board.

it was some awards banquet or another; a bunch of rich and powerful businessmen patting each other and themselves on the back. the specifics didn't matter to isla, she just enjoyed basking in the glow of another job well done.

still, as fun as it all was to her, she was also perfectly content finding a reprieve near an empty table, fidgeting with the tablecloth as she waited for taewoo to return with their beverages. people were up and about in a lull between longwinded speeches, so the room was awash in elegant black suits and evening gowns. it was a moment before she spotted him among the crowd.

she happily took the flute of champagne from him, delicate fingers handling the stem cautiously. "no worries, thank you!" she replied gratefully, being extra careful in the way she sipped from the glass so as not to mar it with her petal pink lip stain. an incredulous expression crossed her features at his insinuation. "what? noooo, you look insanely handsome! i'd never say you fit in with these people because, i mean, they are all vultures who'd sell you or me for their next million at the end of the day, but you are pretending very well, mr. fancy," she reassured him, linking her arm through his and turning to people watch around the room.

the more she drank of her champagne, the more that familiar, bubbly warmth began to soothe every tension she held. she was in her element, and maybe that was embarrassing to admit considering what she'd just said about these people, but she couldn't deny it.

she let his question simmer for a beat before answering. "yeah, i'm having fun. maybe not in the traditional sense, but in a 'wow, i worked really hard on this' kind of way. that's always a cool feeling! and i like social gatherings and dressing up, so..." she trailed off with a nod, giving her cream colored dress a flourish. isla offered an understanding frown at taewoo's continuance, feeling a pang of guilt that she'd dragged him to such an event just to avoid coming alone. she knew fully well things like this weren't his thing, but he'd tagged along anyway for her sake. "ahhh, i'm sorry! but i am really glad you came, even if just for getting to see how nicely we both clean up," she remarked playfully, finishing off her champagne.

*  #  𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚁 ; isla kwon (@wayshome) .ᐟ‍​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ *   # 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽﹔a candlelit banquet, tucked away in the heart of cheongdam .ᐟ‍​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 — which, realistically, isn’t much. the room is all soft golden lighting and the kind of polite, effortless chatter that makes him feel like an intruder just by existing in it. there's the warmth of too many bodies in one space, the clink of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter from a table that’s worked through far too many bottles of wine already. it’s... a lot. but regardless, he's here.

the champagne flutes in his hands are blessedly cold, grounding, condensation slipping between his fingers as he weaves through the crowd, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact like it’s a competitive sport. by the time he reaches isla, he exhales, slow and measured, like he’s made it back to safety or perhaps just barely survived something harrowing.

"here." he offers one glass with careful hands, brushing away a stray drop of condensation before she can take it. he hesitates, then clears his throat. "they, uh… were out of the cocktail you wanted. i asked, but the bartender just looked at me like i offended his entire family." his mouth twitches—half a smile, half an apology. "so. champagne."

he finally takes a sip of his own, gaze flicking around the room before settling back on isla. his free hand twitches, like he wants to adjust his glasses—except he’s not wearing them tonight. (he’s still regretting that decision.)

"i think i might be underdressed," he murmurs, tugging lightly at his collar. he looks down at himself—at the suit that is, objectively, perfectly fine—then back at isla. his expression mild, but there’s a touch of self-consciousness there, like he’s waiting for her to confirm he doesn’t stick out as badly as he feels he does.

"are you having a good time?" his voice is quieter now, sincere in a way that doesn’t demand an answer but still wants one. then, barely a breath later, a small huff of something close to a laugh. "please say yes, so at least one of us is."

[wayshome]

𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒉𝒒 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒌: 𝒍𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 '𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏'𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆'

i. spotless commode. / ii. kitty toybox. / iii. bed with tulle canopy and fairy lights. / iv. stitch. / v. isla kwon. / vi. plush corner. / vii. sitting area. / viii. micro office. / ix. super clean kitchenette.

[wayshome]

who: 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒈𝒆𝒍 (@longiflorums) where: 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒎-𝒈𝒖 warnings: 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅 + 𝒂𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒉𝒐𝒍

if isla tread anymore miles on her client's marble-floored kitchen in spiky black heels, she was going to start wearing a trench in it. thankfully said clients knew nothing of the disaster currently plaguing her day and potentially throwing what was supposed to be a grandiose bridal shower into a total dud. there were boxes and coolers of top of the line, fresh ingredients stack to the hilt on the counters, but the caterer had canceled at the last minute. as an apology, they sent the provisions ahead, but there was still no one to cook them!

champagne colored balloons and streamers hung overhead as a result of her handiwork hours earlier. the house looked gorgeous, perfectly coordinated and ready for a party. the bar was stocked with more rosé and white wine that one could shake a stick at. pretty much everything was in order except this one last, stupidly important piece of the puzzle.

she'd fired off an emergency text to the only person she could turn to: lily spiegel: food blogger extraordinaire, a fiercely qualified cook and quite possibly, isla's knight in shining armor.

↺‎‎‎‎‎ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬. isla: hey, i know this is crazy short notice... but i have a catering job for you if you're interested! isla: feel free to tell me to bug off, but you'd be cooking in a fully stocked mansion kitchen with a simple but upscale menu, and you'd have everything you need right there! isla: i work on commission, and i promise you half of what i make! it would probably be about ₩5.7m for each of us...what do you say?? i'd owe you big time 😌↕

all she could do now was wait.

[wayshome]

okay, this guy was good. he seemed to be finely attuned to deliver exactly the message isla needed to hear in that moment. he seemed to be a man of logic and rationality, something she also liked to surround herself with when she wasn't drenched in the grief of a sudden loss. the reminder that such things existed was a great comfort to her, and it evoked the first genuine smile on isla's face in quite some time.

of course, things made a lot more sense after he'd handed over his business card; she studied it in thoughtful silence for a moment, continuing to let his inference fill the room. he was a business consultant — a title she was familiar with through her own foray into the workplace. she'd never consulted with them directly, but she often saw her bosses looking very honed in for hours while meeting with them. his advice wasn't spot on by accident, it seemed.

"i see," she replied, nodding slowly. "i guess that's why what you're saying makes so much sense," she continued, in disbelief at her luck that such a person would walk directly into her father's bar.

her lips thoughtfully pursed before she spoke again. "i mean, you're right...about everything really. i guess what keeps me holding on is the fear that someone will come along with no regard for this place and change everything that my dad loved about it," was her next confession, though yet again it was coming from a place manipulated by the weight of the loss she felt. "but...i can't do that to myself, can i? i can't make decisions in that frame of mind," her words were firmer, more in the moment than they had been up until this point. she heaved an encumbered sigh, trying to wipe out the remainder of her emotions to decide from a clearer head.

a small, sheepish grin forms to meet him. "i don't suppose you're looking for a new client? and have a free afternoon..." she inquired, knowing it was a lot to ask of him.

𖦹. 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀’𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “don’t worry about it. i just came by to see who might be taking over the bar.” he released her shoulder with a nod. “besides, i’m exactly the person you should be bouncing these ideas off of.”

roman reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a sleek black business card with raised white lettering and held it out to her. on it’s face was his name, contact information, and title as a business consultant. the minimalist design reflected his own personality — subtle yet direct.

“although i’m not sure this makes me qualified to help with the moral dilemma you have, i can say . . .” he hesitated, a glimpse of regret settling over his features. “if you spend your time trying to understand your father’s actions retroactively . . . you’ll drive yourself mad. there’s no roadmap for processing untimely deaths, and there is no way of knowing what he would have wanted with the things that didn’t transition with him. you could spend years trying to make sense of what was left unsaid and get nowhere. every lead will only raise more questions, leaving you more confused than when you started.”

his words hung in the air like an omen — one she could only fully understand with time.

roman cleared the heaviness from his voice. “the only thing you can be certain of is that your father wanted you to be happy. if the bar isn’t something that brings you happiness, then it is safe to say he would rather you sell it to someone else than let the bar he loved become a burden to his child.”

[wayshome]

who: 𝒐𝒉 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒊 (@hanichacha) where: 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃 warnings: 𝒂𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒉𝒐𝒍

perhaps it was strange to try and be so organized and in check about something as fun and loose as a night out in seoul, but isla was nothing if not on top of things. she knew she could never let things get too out of control, for fear of her potential clients finding out about her shenanigans through social media. her worst nightmare!

"we have to make sure we hydrate every hour if we're drinking! i know the bartender, just mention me, and he'll pass you a free water. it's my secret to staying going all night!" isla was forced to raise her voice over the bass of the club speakers, which were currently being throttled by the in-house dj. even then, who knew if hani could hear her? it was the latter's first time in a nightclub, something that was unfathomable to isla herself, but she was devoted to making sure the other had a safe and fun night.

the taller girl gave a quick look at her phone to check the time, half past ten, before safely tucking it back into the pocket of her cinched purple dress. "i figured we'll enjoy the scene here until about 11 and then the crawl part of our evening can begin..." she declared, her fingers shuffling together playfully, as if she had grand plans for their outing.

[wayshome]

isla let the man's sensible words sink in for a solid few seconds, her fingers drumming errantly on the bar as she did so. she was nothing if not completely dictated by her emotions at the moment, and he was right; doing business in that state of mind was just asking for trouble. "if i do this — sell his bar, i mean — it will be like losing him all over again, i can't lie," she admitted, pensive eyes angling downward once again towards her father's handiwork, a rueful chuckle forcing its way through clenched teeth, perhaps in an attempt to cut through the despair hanging in the air.

"the fact that he left it to me to decide what to do... it almost feels like he wants me to try? and if that's the case... is it a betrayal if i don't? i've just been having a lot of conflicting feelings about the whole thing," she explained, sizing up the place once again. though as much as she was rhapsodizing the idea of carrying on in her father's footsteps, the logical side of her mind and the hesitation would also chime in just when she was in the thick of it.

"and then, it's like you said. it will cost so much money and time and effort from not just me, but other people that would no doubt get roped into this. i'm twenty four, i'm an event planner; i have no experience running a bar," she stated, a flicker of sense waving its flame from the center of her grief. "i just... wish i had more time." yet again, the words had more than one meaning. she released a breath it felt liked she'd been holding the entire time, before coming to the realization that she'd been essentially holding this man hostage with her problems for several minutes now. "ah, i'm so sorry for venting to you like that. you probably just came in for a drink." another bow accompanied her words, this one an apology. "since we're in the negotiation stages, i've been trying to not use any of the inventory. trying and failing because i'm stressed out, but..." she added, eyes cast to the floor in contrition.

𖦹.  𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. this mystery woman was isla — the daughter of jungbin he had never met until now, but shared plenty of words about over drinks. his expression softened knowingly, understanding what she was trying to avoid saying aloud. instead of dwelling too much on the grief they both shared, roman decided to take on the role of the helpful stranger and help her navigate through what her father had left behind. if he was struggling with the death merely as jungbin’s friend, he could only imagine how she felt as his daughter.

“pressured to sell, huh?” his gaze rose to look over the bar’s nautical interior, taking in the many ways it would be appealing to one of his business-savvy clients. it’s unique charms and well-established customer base was rare in the restaurant industry, so it was easy to imagine the kind of demand isla might be facing. “well, it’s in a prime location with a strong rapport amongst the community, and even with celebrities. it’d probably go pretty fast if you chose to sell it. it’ll be easy and mostly painless — financially, that is . . .” he paused to return her gaze, his warm eyes communicating a quiet yet persistent kindness.

“but is selling what you truly want? figuring that out will require more self-reflection so that you’re not allowing emotions to dictate your actions. running a bar can be quite challenging and time intensive, not to mention costly. it’s really no small feat.” part of roman realized he may have sounded overly pessimistic, but he refused to sugarcoat what might be in store for her should she choose to keep the business.

[wayshome]

it was a phenomenon she had yet to garner an explanation for, but every time isla stepped through the doors of her father's bar, neon sailboat shining brightly overhead, she felt an overwhelming weight in her chest. it pressured her lungs into rawness and made her struggle for air, even if the battle was well hidden by a neutral face trained by years in a customer facing industry.

she was set to have a meeting with her father's investor in mere hours and the man was pressing her pretty hard to sell, as he had zero confidence in the 24 year old daughter of his former lessee taking the reigns of the business and doing anything successful with it. she'd have been more nervous if she weren't so offended by the notion that she, the fearless kwon sunhye, couldn't achieve something. her attitude going in was rather defiant, even if she was still rather unsure as to what she really wanted to do regarding the bar.

her eyes slowly traced some of the remnants of her father's legacy; the lovingly carved teak bar with the hangul for 'welcome to hyeonchang' emblazoned on it, the ocean blue walls with sponge painted waves in rows, the shelves of rare liquors that her father had collected for over two decades, and perhaps the most striking of all: a large section of the wall covered in photos of her father standing next to notable celebrities from korea and beyond. in each photo, her father had such a proud expression on his face — the look of unabashed accomplishment. perhaps it was so striking because it was the same exact look she'd had in the photo taken of her when she was announced cheer captain, or the expression she wore in her graduation photos and even in the selfie she posted the day she was hired to plan her first event.

as trembling fingers reached out to touch the edge of one of the photos, it was as if she was whipped back to reality at the contact. the fog cleared, and she suddenly became privy to there being another presence in the room. she turned to face the man who seemed to have very kind features; still she was rather relieved when he finally spoke. as he bowed politely towards her, she tried to mimic his actions, thrown off by how stiff and americanized it felt. "the new owner?" she blinked several times in confusion, before realizing he simply must have been a patron who was wondering about the status of the bar.

"oh, um, i guess you could say that? my dad owned this bar, but um..." it still felt impossible to say the words that were on the tip of her tongue, so instead, she cleared away the emotion that had built in her throat. the man had probably already heard the news anyway. "i'm being pressured to sell," she confessed, not entirely sure why she was confiding this information in a stranger, but perhaps she was that desperate for another perspective.

closed starter for @wayshome tw: mentions of death

𖦹. 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑. what once used to be his favorite way to recover after a stressful workday, became little more than a bitter reminder of his unexpected loss — so avoiding it had become second nature. but, when he noticed the bar’s illuminated windows in the early afternoon, he couldn’t squash the desire to assess the new owners. he hadn’t looked too deeply into whether jungbin had made plans for the place before his passing, but assumed his family must have sold it off. if anything, he owed it to his friend to ensure it was in good hands.

the moment roman stepped into the empty bar, he drowned in the flood of memories, but it wasn’t just the familiar setting that rattled him. the source of his shock stood just a few feet away in the form of a young woman. even with just a glance, he could see traces of jungbin in her features that were unmistakable. roman froze, suddenly paralyzed in place as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

it dawned on him how strange he must have seemed in the moment, and quickly snapped out of his trance with a few rapid blinks. “my apologies,” he dipped his head in a polite bow. “i wasn’t expecting anyone to be here at this hour . . .” straightening back up, he regained his composure with a more measured tone. “are you the new owner of this bar? or do you happen to know them . . . ?”

[wayshome]

isla's lips couldn't help but pop into a beaming smile at the sight of her friend, especially witnessing that same line of communication between danbi and stitch that she often had with him. stitch was certainly a cat that knew how to get what he wanted, and now that he'd found two people who understood his pleas? he was certainly going to live the good life in this apartment, or at least isla felt these were likely the thoughts bouncing around in his large, furry head. "it's so good to see you too!" isla remarked, happily stepping into the apartment and offering a smile and pets to stitch. "hello to you too, stitch, i see you popped over for a visit! as long as danbi says it's okay, i'm okay with it too," she spoke softly to the cat, as his head lifted up to find her cupped hand for a brief moment, offering another mew to his owner before his eyes fell upon danbi again to await his sustenance.

upon the offer of lunch, an uncomfortable flutter rises into isla's empty stomach remind her that she in fact had not eaten yet. "oh yeah, i knew i was forgetting something," she said, it having suddenly occurred to her that she'd been so focused on cleaning her loft to distract from her other responsibilities that she'd completely blown past breakfast without realizing it.

"i'm honestly starving, so i'd love to join you if there's room for one more! or two more, i guess," isla admits, sparing a glance to her mooch of a cat. they were certainly two peas in a pod, here pestering danbi for food, though isla had a strong suspicion the woman didn't mind. she liked to think she could read people pretty well, and in the few months she'd gotten to know danbi, one thing she'd gleaned for certain was that she was an expert at making both people and animals feel welcome and comfortable. "can i help, though? i'm happy to earn my lunch, just point me where you want me. also, not to brag, but if you need anything from a high cabinet i'm your girl," she offers with a chuckle, eyes facing the kitchenette from atop her tall, slender frame.

the melodious chirp of her cell phone rings out into the kitchen — two small vibrations follow afterwards, an indication that isla had seen and responded to her message, and danbi can't help but let out a chuckle as stitch suddenly meows, as though he knew, and was consequently offended, about the two women chatting about him. she's quick to respond to the fellow cat-lover from downstairs, telling her to take her time and not rush herself. it was a small exchange, but there was something comforting about being able to indulge in moments like these. she was so often reprimanded for things like this when she had lived at home — her parents hated animals, and the idea of a friend stopping by to collect their feline would have probably sent them over the edge — so it felt like a breath of fresh air to be able to have guests over, both human and creatures alike.

the brunette sets down a cat bowl full of fresh water for stitch just as there's the gentle sound of knocking at her door. she wipes her hands on her jeans, stitch mewling once more as to tell her to invite the other guest inside. danbi undoes the latches, bright smile stretching across her face as isla's figure comes into view. she steps to the side, leaving the door open and gesturing for the other to come inside. stitch raises his head, large orbs taking in the sight of his mother before he lets out another meow and goes back to taking a drink from the water bowl.

"hey, it's nice to see you! .. oh, sorry, should have let him greet you first i guess," danbi giggles again once isla is situated inside, her eyes bouncing back and forth between cat and his beloved owner. she beams at the other female — both danbi and isla had connected easily over their shared affection for cats, and danbi always enjoyed crossing paths with the other girl. "why don't you have a seat? i'll get you something to drink," she gestures towards the couch some feet away, pointing to some of the fluffy throw pillows as if to say that isla should make herself comfortable. "have you eaten anything? i was just about to make something for lunch, if you want to join—" but before either girl has a chance to say anything more, stitch lets out another meow. danbi laughs again, eyes lighting up as she reassures the male cat, "don't worry, i've got something special for you too!"

[wayshome]

ꕥ — hello hello little beans!! it me, ur sleepy admin coming at you with my first of 3 babies! first up we have my boss babe isla moving back to south korea from the states after the passing of her estranged father. thankfully for my sanity i have isla pretty fleshed out with a profile, some little plot ideas to get us started and a full bio which is more than can be said for my other two muses who i am very much about to wing it about! just wanna say thank you all again for joining my cozy little coffee corner and i hope you all have lots of fun mwah! ;*

[wayshome]

done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness demands a sword.

[wayshome]

AISHA of EVERGLOW | Hyuna ‘Babe’ Dance Cover

[wayshome]

❝ - - - a good CHEERLEADER is not measured by the height of her jumps but by the s p a n of her spirit 

CHARACTER AESTHETICS  » CHEERLEADER