A bright white light illuminates the area as the workers swiftly set up the place, stealing occasional glances at the man seated alone in a booth. Impeccably dressed in tailored outfits, they ensure his establishment is running seamlessly.

​

– break– 

​

A Letter from Ba. 01/01/1990 

​

As I step into the scene, a chorus of scents, laughter, and tumultuous outbursts of both joy and despair envelop me, as if seamlessly weaving a tapestry of conflicting emotions. Two distinct yet indistinguishable shouts blend in the air, resonating only with those acquainted with the intricate nuances of this realm. A scene once so familiar elicits within me a chord of steadfast confidence, standing firm against the tide of uncertainty. 

This environment offers a shared game of chance, serving as the great equalizer. 

Though skill and strategy contribute their worth, luck emerges as the ultimate arbiter—especially for someone like me, a humble salaryman who must tread unconventional paths to even glimpse such wealth. 

My own mother often told me that unrelenting determination would be the key to carving a path in America. I heed her words, albeit through a less conventional route, reminding myself daily that “all we can do is give all we have and a whole lot of hope". If today doesn't usher in triumph, perhaps tomorrow will prove more advantageous because today could have built karma for a bigger win. My grip on hope must be unyielding; both yours and Ma’s hope depends on it. 

A trace of leather mingles with the faint scent of tobacco, weaving an intoxicating fragrance that entwines the crowd. The roulette wheels spin, captivating with glimmers of hope, far more potent than any I've known. Rows of slot machines gleam, their screens an enchanting call that lures victims into the thrill of chance. Amidst the symphony of cards, they meld together, creating a fusion of sound that fills the void with purpose. 

My heart races, enticed by the promise of swift wealth and the exhilaration it brings. Yet, riches slip through fingers as effortlessly as sand. For my family's sake, optimism must guide me. Adjusting my suit—the same attire I wore on my wedding day—I smile slyly. Today will be my big day. Our big day. 

Seated across a victorious figure, I gaze upon the man of prominence. Tailored suit, poised entourage—the gentleman's grace conceals a darker intent. The man chuckles with silent amusement, witnessing my rough hands. He looks down at me for my class, I’m used to it, but for a second, I was happy that I was even considered an opponent for a man with such an air of aristocracy. A tense smile barely conceals the rising unease within me. As cards are dealt, a deep breath is drawn—cheekily wishing "Good luck." 

The next few minutes were absolute hell. You once asked me if gambling was that much fun, I simply shrugged and walked away. The unbelievably heavy guilt that settled onto my shoulders that night has never left me. 

The gentleman’s dominance is claimed with a heavy thud, chips amassing as proof. Breath grows ragged, sweat pools—a dance of chaos ensues. Losses accumulate, and control slips through trembling fingers. Questions of "Why me?" echo as hope teeters on the precipice. The casino transforms into a battleground, an arena of anguish and cruelty. Desperation intensifies; hope falters. 

In the gentleman's face, my manifestation comes true. The gentleman's once-dignified twists into sin's allure. The gentleman mirrors my descent into silent realization with looks of cruelty from onlookers amplifying the humiliation. A chilling smile adorns the dealer's lips, a testament to victory before setting up a new game.

When I return home, I’m greeted with cautiously hopeful eyes, so how can I bring myself to let the truth escape my mouth? So, I’m doing this in the most pathetic way possible. 

I pretend to never notice the atmosphere, but Ba isn't that stupid. With every departure, a smaller fragment of hope is tenderly entrusted in me, attempting to shield yourself as well as me, against the deflated feelings of potential losses. Your hesitant whispers of "Good luck, Ba. I love you" bear the weight of acquiescence, a prayer to witness my smile, a plea for the elusive win I yearn for. Yet, with each return, I plunge further into the abyss, shattering your carefully put faith in me.

So no, your father is not someone special who knows the secret recipe to winning. I’m just an ordinary salaryman who went down a path of desire. He is a coward who can’t provide for his family but instead ruins it deeper into debt.

But, I told you that today was our big day. I intended to keep that promise.

When the insurance policy goes through, you and Ma will receive some hefty funds. Enough to cover all the debt and set up you both well. I talked to Mr. Ko next to the supermarket and he said he’s selling his place for cheap. I put his number on a note stuck on the fridge. Open a restaurant with Ma, go to college. I promise this time, I will be able to provide for you. And I ask you for the last time, to place your faith in my actions if it’s not too much to ask for. Don't cry and make sure to comfort Ma, think of this as me doing work overseas. 

Please don’t hate Ba too much. 

My eyes constantly avert yours, shackled by shame. Even in the last moments, my pride overtakes me. I’m sorry. 

With love,

Ba.

​

– End Scene–

​

Customers fill in smiling. 

“Welcome! Here’s a table for 3. There’s also a Father’s Day discount! Here…”

The man gets up, appetite seemingly vanished and exits the restaurant.