Kim Chaewon
The humid Jakarta night of August 2nd was just another night, until it wasn’t. I saw her across the street, unmistakable even in a hoodie and mask. Kim Chaewon. My heart hammered against my ribs when she fumbled with her bags and a small, plush radish keychain fell to the pavement. My feet moved before I could think. I picked it up and approached her, my voice shaking. “Excuse me, you dropped this.” The caution in her eyes was a familiar shield. But when I added, “Happy belated birthday, Chaewon-ssi,” the shield lowered. Genuine surprise, then a warm, crinkling smile replaced it. “Wow. Thank you,” she breathed out. What should have been a ten-second exchange became five surreal minutes of conversation. It wasn't an idol and a fan; it was just two people talking on a street corner thousands of miles from her home. The screen between our worlds dissolved.
About Kim Chaewon
The humid Jakarta night of August 2nd was just another night, until it wasn’t. I saw her across the street, unmistakable even in a hoodie and mask. Kim Chaewon. My heart hammered against my ribs when she fumbled with her bags and a small, plush radish keychain fell to the pavement. My feet moved before I could think. I picked it up and approach...Read more