Incheon International Airport was nothing like Emma had imagined.
She'd expected chaos, confusion, maybe some culture shock. What she got instead was a gleaming temple of efficiency that made JFK look like a glorified bus station. Everything was spotless, organized, and bilingual. Digital signs pointed the way in both Korean and English. Staff members in crisp uniforms smiled and bowed. Even the floor seemed to shine with an unnatural level of cleanliness.
Emma shuffled through customs with her passport clutched like a lifeline, trying not to look as exhausted as she felt. The thirteen-hour flight had been brutal—she'd slept maybe two hours total, wedged between a businessman who snored and a college student who spent the entire flight watching K-dramas without headphones.
"Welcome to Korea," the customs officer said in perfect English, stamping her passport with a smile. "Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you," Emma managed, and then she was through, officially in South Korea, standing in the arrivals hall with her two suitcases and the creeping realization that this was actually happening.
Her phone buzzed with a text from the program group chat: "Just landed! Where is everyone?"
Emma looked around the massive arrivals hall. Hundreds of people moved in purposeful streams—reuniting families, tour groups, business travelers. Signs with names written in Korean and English were held up by drivers and relatives. She scanned them for her own name, or maybe "Kang Family," but saw nothing.
Another text from Jennifer Park: "Your host family contact, Kang Min-jun, will meet you at Gate 7 of the arrivals hall. He'll be holding a sign with your name. Safe travels!"
Gate 7. Emma could do this. She just had to find Gate 7.
After wheeling her suitcases past what felt like seventeen coffee shops and three luxury boutiques (who needs Gucci immediately after a thirteen-hour flight?), Emma finally spotted a sign that said "Gate 7" in English.
And there, among the crowd of people waiting, she saw her name.
Sort of.
The sign said "EMMA TORRES - KANGNAM EXCHANGE" in slightly wobbly English letters decorated with small, hand-drawn flowers around the border. It was oddly charming.
The person holding it, however, looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.
He was tall—maybe six feet—with dark hair that flopped over his forehead in that effortlessly messy way that probably took effort. He wore black-framed glasses that kept sliding down his nose, a gray hoodie, and jeans that had paint stains on them. He was looking down at his phone with the intense focus of someone avoiding eye contact with the entire world.
"Excuse me?" Emma approached with her most polite smile. "Are you Kang Min-jun?"
The man's head snapped up, and Emma got her first good look at him. He had the kind of face that was more interesting than traditionally handsome—sharp jawline, expressive eyebrows, and eyes that went wide with something like panic when he saw her.
"You're Emma Torres?" he asked in English with a slight accent, his voice higher than she'd expected.
"That's me!" Emma gestured to her suitcases. "Thanks so much for picking me up. The program coordinator said—"
"There's been a mistake," he blurted out.
Emma's smile faltered. "What?"
"A mistake. You're not supposed to be here. I mean, you're here, obviously you're here, but you're not supposed to be HERE here." He was talking fast, his words tumbling over each other. "I tried to call the program coordinator but she's not answering and my grandmother doesn't speak English so I couldn't explain and now you're here and—"
"Whoa, slow down." Emma held up her hands. "What are you talking about? The program placed me with the Kang family. In Gangnam. That's you, right?"
Min-jun pushed his glasses up his nose, a gesture Emma would come to recognize as his nervous tell. "Yes, but also no. It's complicated."
"Okay, so... uncomplicate it?"
He looked around the busy arrivals hall like he was checking for escape routes. Finally, he sighed. "Can we talk somewhere less crowded? Maybe get coffee? You must be tired from your flight."
Emma was exhausted, confused, and increasingly concerned, but coffee sounded good. "Sure. Lead the way."
Ten minutes later, they were seated in one of the airport's many cafés. Min-jun had insisted on buying her coffee—"It's the least I can do given the situation"—and now Emma was clutching a latte that cost more than a meal back home while waiting for him to explain.
He took a long sip of his own coffee, still avoiding eye contact. "So. Here's the thing. My grandmother... she has a tendency to meddle."
"Meddle how?"
"In my life. Specifically, in my love life. Or lack thereof." He grimaced. "She's been trying to set me up with various women for the past two years. Blind dates, friend-of-a-friend introductions, that kind of thing. I've turned down all of them because I'm busy with work and I'm not interested in dating right now and—" He stopped himself. "Sorry. That's probably more information than you needed."
"No, it's fine. Continue."
Min-jun pushed his glasses up again. "Last month, she told me she'd arranged a meeting with an American woman. Someone's daughter who was coming to Korea for a cultural exchange program. She showed me a photo from the program application and said this woman was 'perfect for me' and I had to at least meet her to make Halmoni—my grandmother—happy."
Emma's stomach started to sink. "And you said...?"
"I said absolutely not. I told her I would pick up our actual exchange student—a different person—from the airport, but I was not interested in any blind date situations." He finally looked at Emma properly. "Except apparently, Halmoni didn't listen. Or she did something. I don't know exactly what, but when I received the pickup information this morning, the photo was... different."
"Different how?"
"It was you." He pulled out his phone and showed her a screenshot. Sure enough, there was Emma's application photo—the one she'd taken in good lighting with professional makeup for this exact purpose. "The program coordinator sent this saying you were our exchange student. But the address..."
Emma pulled out her own phone and opened Jennifer Park's email. "The address is..." She showed him the screen.
Min-jun's face went pale. "That's our address. Our actual house address. But Emma, you weren't supposed to be placed with us at all. The original exchange student placement was a college student named..." He scrolled through his messages. "Michael Chen. From California. Studying Korean literature."
"But I'm from New York and I'm a graphic designer." Emma felt the coffee churning in her stomach. "So what happened to Michael Chen?"
"I have no idea. But I know my grandmother." Min-jun looked genuinely apologetic. "She must have contacted the program somehow and switched the placements. She probably told them there was a special circumstance or family request or something. She can be very convincing when she wants to be."
Emma sat back in her chair, processing. "So your grandmother basically catfished the exchange program to set you up on a three-month-long blind date?"
"That's..." Min-jun paused. "Yes. That's exactly what happened."
"That's insane."
"I know."
"That's manipulative and borderline fraud."
"I know."
"That's—" Emma stopped herself. "Actually, that's kind of impressive in a terrifying way."
The corner of Min-jun's mouth twitched. "She's a retired school teacher. She's very good at organizing things and bending rules when she thinks she's right."
They sat in silence for a moment, both staring at their coffee cups.
"So what do we do?" Emma finally asked. "I can't exactly get back on a plane. I have a visa, I'm enrolled in the program, I gave up my apartment in New York..."
"I know. I'm so sorry." Min-jun looked genuinely distressed. "I tried calling the program coordinator three times this morning but she's not responding. It's Sunday, so the office is closed. And even if we could reach her, I don't know if they have another placement available on such short notice."
Emma's mind raced through the implications. She'd come to Korea to escape her problems, to start fresh, to have an adventure. Instead, she'd apparently landed in the middle of someone else's family drama.
"What about your grandmother?" Emma asked. "Can't you just explain to her that this isn't appropriate? That you can't force people into dating?"
"I've tried explaining this for two years." Min-jun's laugh was hollow. "She doesn't listen. She thinks she knows what's best for everyone, especially me. And ever since my grandfather passed away last year, she's been even more determined to see me 'settled down' before..." He trailed off.
"Before what?"
"Before she dies. She keeps saying she wants to see me happy and married before she goes." He said it matter-of-factly, but Emma caught the emotion underneath. "She's perfectly healthy, mind you. But she uses it as emotional leverage."
Emma should probably be outraged. She should demand to speak to Jennifer Park immediately, insist on a different placement, maybe even file a complaint about the program's screening process.
But something in Min-jun's defeated expression made her pause.
"What if," Emma said slowly, an idea forming, "we just... go with it?"
Min-jun looked at her like she'd suggested they rob a bank. "What?"
"Hear me out." Emma leaned forward. "I need a place to stay in Seoul for three months. You need your grandmother to stop meddling in your love life. What if we pretend to date? Just temporarily, just to keep her happy, and then at the end of the program, we can stage a very amicable breakup. She gets what she wants, you get her off your back, and I get my cultural exchange experience. Everyone wins."
"That's..." Min-jun pushed his glasses up. "That's a terrible idea."
"Why?"
"Because it's lying to my grandmother. Because fake relationships never work out well—I've seen enough dramas to know that. Because we're complete strangers who don't know anything about each other. Because—"
"Because you have a better solution?" Emma challenged.
Min-jun opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at his coffee, at Emma, at the ceiling, anywhere but directly at the problem. "No," he finally admitted. "I don't have a better solution."
"Look, I know it's weird," Emma said. "Trust me, this is not how I expected my Seoul adventure to start. But I've already had the worst month of my life." She pulled out her phone and, after a moment's hesitation, showed him the viral video. "That's me. That's my ex-boyfriend proposing to someone else while I sit three tables away completely oblivious. Five million views and counting."
Min-jun watched the video, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding to something like sympathy. "Oh."
"Yeah. 'Oh.'" Emma put her phone away. "So I came here to escape, to start over, to be someone other than 'that poor girl from the viral video.' If I have to spend three months pretending to date someone to make that happen? Honestly, that's not even in the top five weirdest things that have happened to me this month."
A long pause. Min-jun was thinking, she could see it in the way his eyebrows drew together, the way he tapped his fingers against his coffee cup.
"Three months," he said finally. "Just three months. We pretend to date, keep Halmoni happy, and then you go back to America and we both move on with our lives."
"Exactly."
"No actual dating. No romance. Just... acting."
"Just acting," Emma agreed.
"And we tell her the truth after you leave. I'm not lying to her forever."
"Of course not. We can say it didn't work out because of the distance or cultural differences or whatever."
Min-jun studied her for a long moment, and Emma had the distinct feeling she was being assessed. Then, slowly, he extended his hand across the table.
"Okay. Deal. But we need ground rules."
Emma shook his hand. His grip was firm, his hand warm despite the iced coffee he'd been holding. "Deal. We can figure out the rules on the way to your house. Which, by the way, where exactly is it? The email just said Gangnam district."
"Technically Gangnam, yes. But..." Min-jun grimaced. "It's a pretty big house. My grandmother comes from old money. My father's side. It's just the three of us living there now—Halmoni, my older brother Ji-hoo, and me."
"Your brother knows about this?"
"God, no. Ji-hoo would lose his mind if he knew what Halmoni did. He's very by-the-book about everything." Min-jun stood up, gathering Emma's empty cup along with his own. "We'll have to tell him you're just the exchange student. Which is technically true."
"This is already getting complicated."
"Welcome to my family," Min-jun said dryly. He grabbed the handle of one of her suitcases. "Come on. Let's get this over with. Fair warning—my grandmother is probably going to be very excited to meet you."
Emma grabbed her other suitcase and followed him out of the café, her exhausted brain trying to process everything that had just happened. She'd been in Korea for less than two hours and she'd already agreed to fake-date a stranger to trick his matchmaking grandmother.
Hannah was going to die when she heard about this.
They made their way to the parking garage, where Min-jun led her to a sleek black sedan that probably cost more than Emma's entire college tuition.
"Nice car," she said.
"It's Ji-hoo's. He let me borrow it to pick you up." Min-jun loaded her suitcases into the trunk with practiced ease. "He's... going to have questions when he meets you."
"What kind of questions?"
"Mostly variations of 'who is this person and why is she living in our house.' Just let me handle it. I'll figure something out."
They got into the car, and Min-jun pulled out of the parking garage with the careful precision of someone who'd rather be anywhere else but was too polite to say so.
As they merged onto the highway heading toward Seoul, Emma watched the city come into view—a sprawling mass of lights and buildings that seemed to go on forever. The sun was setting, painting everything in shades of orange and pink.
"So," Emma said, breaking the silence. "Ground rules for fake dating. What are you thinking?"
Min-jun kept his eyes on the road. "No actual physical affection beyond what's absolutely necessary to sell the act. Hand-holding in front of Halmoni is fine. Anything more is negotiable and requires prior discussion."
"Agreed. What else?"
"We should probably know basic things about each other. Favorite foods, hobbies, how we supposedly met. Halmoni will ask questions."
"How did we supposedly meet?"
"The program? She knows I was picking up an exchange student. She just doesn't know it wasn't supposed to be... a romantic situation."
"Okay, so we met through the program, started talking, felt a connection." Emma was getting into it now. "What's your favorite food?"
"Kimchi jjigae. Yours?"
"Tacos. But I'm very excited to try all the Korean food I can't pronounce."
Min-jun's lips twitched. "We'll work on your pronunciation."
They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes. Emma felt herself relaxing slightly. Min-jun seemed nice, despite the weird circumstances. Awkward, definitely. A bit nerdy. But there were worse people to fake-date for three months.
"One more rule," Min-jun said as they exited the highway. "If either of us feels uncomfortable at any point, we call it off. I don't want you to feel trapped or obligated to do this if it's too weird."
"Same goes for you," Emma said. "If your grandmother's matchmaking gets too intense, just say the word and we'll figure out another solution."
"Deal."
Min-jun turned onto a street lined with massive houses that looked like they belonged in a luxury magazine. Emma's eyes widened as they pulled up to a gate, which opened automatically.
The house—mansion, really—was beautiful. Modern architecture with traditional Korean elements, surrounded by a meticulously maintained garden. Warm light glowed from multiple windows.
"This is where you live?" Emma breathed.
"Unfortunately." Min-jun parked the car and turned off the engine. "Ready?"
Emma looked at the house, at Min-jun's nervous expression, at her suitcases in the back seat containing everything she owned.
She thought about Tyler, about the viral video, about Hannah's insistence that Korea would change her life.
She thought about twelve-year-old Emma and her glow-in-the-dark stars and her dreams of adventure.
"Ready," Emma said.
They got out of the car just as the front door opened, revealing a tiny elderly woman in a beautiful hanbok. Her face lit up when she saw them, and she started speaking rapid Korean while hurrying down the front steps.
"She's saying she's so happy to finally meet you," Min-jun translated, looking pained. "And that you're even prettier than your photo. And that she's made your favorite foods even though she has no idea what your favorite foods are."
Grandmother Kang reached Emma and took both her hands, beaming up at her with such genuine warmth that Emma felt a pang of guilt about the deception.
"Hi," Emma said, bowing awkwardly. "I'm Emma. Thank you so much for having me in your home."
Grandmother Kang said something else in Korean, squeezing Emma's hands.
"She says," Min-jun translated reluctantly, "that she can already tell you're perfect for me, and she's so happy her grandson finally found someone worthy of him."
Min-jun and Emma's eyes met over his grandmother's head. His expression clearly said I'm so sorry, while hers said we are definitely going to talk about this later.
"Come, come!" Grandmother Kang pulled Emma toward the house, still chattering in Korean. Min-jun followed with the suitcases, looking like a man walking toward his doom.
Emma stepped over the threshold into the Kang family home, into three months of carefully constructed lies, into an adventure she definitely hadn't signed up for.
But as Grandmother Kang led her through a beautiful entryway filled with the smell of home-cooked food and genuine hospitality, Emma couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this ridiculous situation might actually work out.
Or it would spectacularly blow up in their faces.
Either way, it was going to be interesting.