#jacksonwangfic

Your heart was pounding in your chest.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Your legs felt heavy with each step.

Who could've thought?

Who would've dreamed?

Surely not you.

When  your friends dared you to apply for the job as the personal assistant  of Mr. Wang himself from Team Wang Design, who would've thought you'd  actually be selected? You, just a plain young woman, fresh out from  college.

You  remembered vividly sitting there in the waiting room, surrounded by some  of the prettiest girls you had ever seen in your life. You had been  nervous before going there, but when you had sat there, surrounded by a  bunch of women all probably much more capable than you were, you had  somehow calmed down. Why would you be nervous anyway? It's not like you  would get the job, as you had just replied to it as a dare. No, they  definitely wouldn't pick you.

Except...

They did.

You  had dropped your phone when they gave you the call, shattering the  screen. But you didn't care. At first, you thought it was one of your  friends pranking you. But after being assured several times and  receiving the e-mail with the briefing, there was no way out. You HAD to  believe it.

Team Wang Design had hired you as the personal assistant to Mr. Wang.

Of  course, your friends had teased you about it. Threatening to show the  company your old posters of their directed that you used to hang up in  your dorm room above your bed. Because like most adolescent girls you  had been head over heels with Jackson Wang. How could you not? An idol  with the looks, the voice, the moves, and the talent. There wasn't a  girl in your college who did not admire him. Though you had to admit  that none of them had fangirled over him as hard as you used to.

Of  course, those days were behind you. You had grown, and your obsessive  fawning over the man had made way for real-life troubles and concerns  that were more important.

However, being hired now, as his PERSONAL assistant. Yeah, your head was absolutely spinning.

There was no way you wouldn't screw it up. Wouldn't make a stupid mistake that would make you lose your job instantly.

But you didn't care.

Even  if you would only get about an hour of working for the man you were  once dreaming of every night, you would be able to die happily.

Your  hand reached for the door and you noticed your fist was shaking. You  took one last breath, ready to meet your downfall, and knocked.

A husky voice, one you only knew too well answered for you to come in. You opened the door and got into the room.

Sitting  behind his desk, his eyes scanning one of the many designs that were  laying there, was the man you once called the love of your life.

He looked up at you and your mind went blank.

His  eyes were like dark pools of black night sky. His high defined  cheekbones complimented his sharp jawline. His thick black eyebrows were  slightly creased as he looked at you, his defined and soft looking lips  slightly parted and relaxed. Then your eyes met.

Once again, you were under his spell.

--------

Jackson's POV

A soft knock sounded on the door.

'Come  in,' I replied mindlesly. Someone came in but I paid them no mind. The  drawings of the new designs were scattered on my desk. They were good  but not great. Nor was the line coherent. After countless editing  rounds, this was they came up with?

I sighed. This would only give me a headache.

Simply  to have something else to do than staring at the disappointing designs I  looked up. There was a girl standing in front of me. For a moment I  wanted to ask her how she had gotten in here, as I had no idea who she  was, but then I really saw her. She was wearing a suit from one of our  older lines. It looked quite new for it's age. She had probably not worn  it very often. Her heels were clearly new, offbrand but still expensive  looking. But her hands gave her away. Her nails were slightly busted  and too short. Clearly she was a biter. There were small scars and  scratches here and there too and no rings nor bracelets. Her hair looked  soft and had been done up with a hairclip in a simple way, and her  face...

A weird feeling came over me.

I had seen so many models in my career is a designer, one even prettier than the next. Flawless skins, perfect teeth.

But this girl.

She  was certainly far from perfect, face and body. But somehow, she was  captivating. An unequalled beauty in her own league. And her eyes...

Her  eyes seemed to be sparkling. Never had I seen such a vibrant look in  anyones eyes. A fire, full of stars and joy. Desire and fierceness, and  so alive...

I wanted to protect her. Needed to protect her. Needed her close to me. Needed her to touch me...

'Good morning,' I said the words without realising it.

'Good  morning Mr. Wang,' the girl said. Even her voice sounded somehow  magical. It was calm, but I could see her fingers twitching. Clearly she  was nervous.

'My name is Y/N and I will be your new personal assistant,' she continued.

My jaws clenched together automatically.

My new personal assistant...

I could see the innocence in her eyes. The uncertainty of my acceptance of her.

Fuck.

'Erm excuse me,' you said hesitantly. Although your voice had been softened by your insecurity, the whole room suddenly faced you, eight pairs of eyes looking at you frowning.

'H-hi,' you said awkwardly, straightening your back and trying your best to look and sound confident. 'My name is Y/n and I'm the new personal assistant of Mr. Wang,' you said quickly. A few faces instantly changed, with understanding looks on them. Some even nodded and smiled.

'Right, erm,' you said stumbling again, 'so Mr. Wang told me to give this to you,' you told the room, sticking out your arms that were holding the binder with the designs. 'And he told me he wanted you to look over them again,' you repeated his words.

The whole room sighed. Some people leaned back in their chairs, rolling their eyes. Others put their hands in front of their faces and shook their heads.

Slightly shocked, you looked at their reactions.

'Don't worry about it,' one of the guys said as he walked over to you and saw your face. 'They're not reacting to you, they're reacting to the boss,'

His comment was unnecessary but you simply nodded. He had a very soft and friendly face.

'My name is Im Jaebeom but everyone calls me Jay B,' he said sticking out his hand to you as he took the binder from you. You shook his hand and bowed slightly.

Jay B clicked his tongue as he flipped through the binder quickly. 'The boss hasn't been satisfied with our work lately. It's almost like...' he mumbled but he didn't finish his sentence.

'Like what?' you asked curiously, unable to help yourself. Jay B grimaced at you.

'Like he doesn't know what he wants,' he said shaking his head. 'But don't tell him I said that,' he added quickly. You gave him a slight smile to let him know you understood.

On your way over to the kitchen, you wondered what Jay B had meant by what he said. As a former avid Team Wang stan, you knew Jackson to be determined, and creative. He always knew what he wanted and exactly how he wanted it. It was strange to think that what Jay B had said, was true.

You pondered over it while filling up a can of water for your boss. He had seemed pretty sure of himself when he had rejected the designs and given them to you. Maybe Jay B was wrong and just didn't understand Jackson as you did.

You scoffed at yourself.

"Really Y/N?" You thought to yourself. "You really think you know Jackson better after stanning him for a few years? Better than his own employees?"

You clicked your tongue.

But then what if Jay B was right? What if Jackson was stuck in some sort of designer block?

It pained you to think this. Designing was Jackson's life and you could easily imagine how frustrating it would be for him if he was blocked. You didn't want this for him.

Deep in thought, you made your way back to your boss's office, the heavily filled water jug in your hand.

When you entered the room, Jackson was standing facing the window, his back towards you.

"Was he really unsure of himself?" you wondered as you walked up to him. Your eyes slid over his strong posture. His broad back and strong arms... You simply could not imagine a man like him being stuck like that. A flush of heat washed over your body and your heart instantly started to beat faster. The water jug suddenly seemed a lot heavier. You gripped it with your other hand, holding it close to you so you wouldn't drop it.

Jackson. Your boss was really Jackson. You were really approaching him right now, bringing him water.

Your mind was racing.

Suddenly, unexpectedly he turned around. His sharp movement startled you and the jug slipped from your fingers. Cold water flooded over your front and a second later the sound of shattering indicated the glass had hit the floor.

There was a moment of silence where Jackson simply looked at you, eyebrows raised, then,

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' you cried out quickly. You felt like your heart had stopped and your body had turned into ice. You quickly crouched down, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the shattered glass lying at his feet, still mumbling apologies.

How could you have been so stupid? Why were you this clumsy? How could you mess it up this quickly? You had barely been working for him for an hour and you had already shown him your incompetence. You were trying hard to hold back tears.

You couldn't look at him as Jackson slowly crouched down as well.

'Y/n,' he said softly but you couldn't hear him over your endless stream of apologies.

'Y/n!' he said louder now. Your body froze mid-pick up of a particularly large piece of glass. Your breathing was heavy as if you had just run a marathon.

'Y/n, relax, it's just water and it's just a jug,' he said simply. He tried to find your eyes as he looked at you. He could see the tears in your eyes that you refused to let out.

He felt weird. Why were you crying? Why were you panicking? He didn't understand. It was just a minor mistake that could happen to anyone, but you seemed to be distraught by it.

He stared at your wet eyes. You looked so pitiful and small like this and a part of him wanted to scoop you up and hold you close, press his lips onto your pouting ones.

The image of it flashed before his eyes in a millisecond and he quickly got up again and cleared his throat.

'Leave it. You might cut yourself,' he said shortly. He was surprised at his own fierce tone of voice. It took a second, but then slowly you got up too.

Your suit jacket and the white blouse underneath it were soaked, making the fabric see-through. For a moment Jackson's eyes darted over your body, stopping at your chest. Underneath the wet jacket and through the wet fabric of your blouse he could easily spot the pastel blue lace bra you were wearing.

He had to hold in a groan.

'Why don't you go dry yourself and calm down a bit?' He suggested quickly, tearing his eyes from your chest and quickly looking away. 'The ladies restroom has a blow-drier,'

'Yes, sir,' you said in a small voice. All this time you had been staring at your own shoes. You could not bear to face him. Maybe ever again.

With a body that still felt like ice and feet that seemed to be made of lead, you turned around and walked out of the door.

During lunch at school that same day, I noticed Jackson and his group sitting in the centre of the cafeteria. I was sitting with my friends, but I wasn’t really paying attention to them. I saw Jackson with his girlfriend on his lap, laughing, just like always. Almost everyone knew that Mira was cheating on Jackson, except for, apparently, Jackson himself. I wondered vaguely if I should tell him.

Why do I care…

I didn’t. But it seemed wrong to just let that happen to someone like him. Someone who didn’t do anything to ask for it.

Somehow, as if he knew I was watching, he suddenly turned his head towards me, and caught my eye for a split second, before turning back to Mira and smiling at her. It reminded me of the time before. When he’d been struck down.

--

After my final class I went to the parking lot to wait for my mom. I was there alone, as usual, since my mom was the only parent who didn’t let me ride the bus – for whatever reason of hers.

“Joonki!”

I turned and saw Jackson walking up to me.

“Hi” I turned back and shifted my weight from one leg to another. I nearly jumped when I felt Jackson wrap his arms around me.

“Thanks” His voice came out muffled by my shirt.

“I got your message” I smiled and touched his hands.

“I meant about my arms. You didn’t say anything” He let go of me and I turned around to face him.

“What about them?” But by now I knew what he was talking about.

“You know” He smiled after a silent moment. “You were there”

“How do you remember?”

“… I just do”

That was all he left me with before my mom drove up and took me home.  

--

Jackson came again that night.

And most nights after. Sometimes he would stay for a while and we’d talk about things, anything, really. People at school, my friends, his friends, teachers, people we hated, people we liked, how much he loved his girlfriend.

Every day in school he would say thank you, and I would smile like I knew what I was really doing for him other than leaving my door latch unlocked. Once or twice he left his jacket in my room, which I handed to him in school the next day. My friends questioned me, but I had a good excuse.

“Jackson’s my neighbour. He comes over with his parents sometimes.”

Jackson heard me lying to my friends once, and told me so when I was walking to the parking lot at the end of the day.

“So, I come over with my parents a lot?” He smirked and nudged me. I smacked his arm playfully.

“Should I tell them what really happens?”

“Doubt they’ll believe you”

I stopped walking. He took a few steps forward before noticing.

“What?”

“What really happens?” I looked at him with hard, serious eyes. It wasn’t entirely not my business. I didn’t question him out of respect, but I wanted to know.

His soft eyes turned mellow suddenly, and he turned away. “I’m throwing a party tomorrow. Dress your best”

--

My ‘best’ was my pair of new violet heels and a full-sleeved mauve dress that was borderline inappropriate in length. My parents didn’t even notice me as I left the house, mostly because I was just going next door. I’d asked my friends if they were coming, but apparently they hadn’t been invited.

I rang the bell and the door opened within a second. An absolutely stunning lady stood in the doorway, dressed up in an elegant gown.

“Hello, Joonki. Please come in”

Suddenly I felt like I should have worn a longer dress.

“Am I early?” I looked around discreetly as Jackson’s mom led me to the living room. His house, I noticed, was decorated a lot better than mine. It felt like it had been lived in for years and years.

I heard Jackson’s mom call for him in Chinese before she turned her attention back to me.

“I am going out. Please have fun” She smiled and bowed her head.

“Thank you, I will” I smiled back at her and sat down on the sofa.

I heard Jackson’s voice before I saw him descend the stairs. He was chatting to his mother in Chinese but stopped short when he saw me. His mother said something conclusive and left a second later, not waiting for a reply from him.

It was just us.

“You liar” I crossed my arms and scowled. There was no one else here.

It took him a minute to find his words. “What?”

“I’m the only one here”

“Yeah. It’s a two person party” He chuckled and held out his hand. I took it and stood up, avoiding his eye. I was positively miffed about this. It was not only embarrassing, considering what I was wearing, it was also incredibly inappropriate.

“Your best is…”

I started a laugh. “It’s –”

“Beautiful”

Slutty, I was going to say. I couldn’t have been surprised by him, but I was.

“Do you wear full-sleeves even at home?” I asked suddenly, not knowing why the question came to me.

“No. I just didn’t want you to see”

“If I know then what difference does it make?”

“I don’t know”

“Then show me” I grabbed his wrist in earnest.

Why do I even want to see?

“I haven’t even shown Mira. Only my friends know”

“I know”

“You’re my friend”

“No I’m not. Not really”

“I want you to be”

He held my gaze for an eternity before I finally let go of his hand.

“Come on”

He led us up the stairs and to his bedroom. It was as colourful as him. There were posters and pictures covering the walls, trophies lining every shelf, and clothes littered everywhere. He opened his closet while my eyes scanned the walls. I saw pictures of him with his family, friends, girlfriend, even people I assume were previous girlfriends. There were newspaper articles about his fencing achievements and tournaments he’d won. The recent ones were only for sabre. He had stopped katana ages ago. I turned my head and saw his old katana hanging on the wall above his bed. I could see red streaks on it.

“Joonki”

“Hm?”

“Take off that dress”

I froze.

“What did you just say?” I turned around slowly, clenching my fists to stop them shaking.

Jackson turned back from his closet, holding a shirt and a pair of shorts “Here, change into these” He tossed them to me and shut the closet door.

My hand unconsciously pressed against my palpitating chest, and I relaxed. “Jesus Christ don’t scare me like that” I laughed and looked back at him, only to immediately look away once I saw he was busy taking off his shirt.

“Jackson…”

“Hm? Hurry up and change”

I peeked over my shoulder and saw that he was in a sleeveless shirt now. I relaxed again.

What is with him…

I took his clothes to the bathroom and slipped into them, leaving my dress hanging behind his door.

“Why exactly have I changed?” I re-entered his room, only to find him missing.

“Out here”

I followed his voice out to his balcony, the one directly opposite mine. When I saw him standing on the railing I nearly screamed.

“Jackson what the fuck?! Get down!”

He smiled down at me and held his hand out to me. “Come up”

I shifted nervously, taking his hand with reservations about what would happen if I slipped, or he slipped, and either one of us fell to our deaths. Once I was up on the rail I reached out for the tree branch just above us for support. Jackson held me by the waist and didn’t let go even when I was sure I wouldn’t fall.

“On three I’m going to lift you to that branch, okay?” Jackson whispered against my ear. It took me a moment to process what he was saying, and by then it was too late.

“Jackson wait!”

“One, two, three!”

--

The tree between our houses had been there since forever. It was there since before I moved in, and probably before Jackson had as well. It was a strange constant in both our lives, having no significance at all till now.

Sitting up there amidst the high branches with him, it felt like a dream. We looked up through the sparse leaves at the blank slate of space, dotted with faded stars. It wasn’t as cold tonight as it had been when we met. Jackson was smiling, as usual. I noticed, as usual.

While I stared at the stars he stared at me. Even though I couldn’t see it, I could feel it. Strong as anything I’d ever felt.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes” It was magical and beautiful. The sky wasn’t, it was the same every day; it was the feeling.

“I brought Mira up here once. She hated it”

I looked at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Bugs I think” He chuckled and looked up at the sky, though I could tell his gaze was unfocussed.

“She cheated on you” I blurted, covering my mouth and looking away after.

Stupid idiot.

“I know” He tilted his head and smiled at me. It didn’t reach his eyes.

I frowned “Then why don’t you break up with her?”

“I love her”

I couldn’t believe his logic. “How can you love her if she cheated?!” I sat up with force, almost losing my balance.

“It was one mistake. That doesn’t erase our entire relationship”

I opened my mouth to retaliate, but no words came out.

What if she does it again? I wanted to say. But I kept silent. It wasn’t my business after all.

I looked down at him – he was on a lower branch, and saw his bare arms in the light for the first time. They were white and cut through in four different places. Two parallel slices that followed the curve of his arms, from the wrists to the inside of the elbows. The scars weren’t white and smooth.

They were red and horrifying. Against his white skin it was like blood on snow.

I looked away and winced as if the knife had sliced through my arm and not his. Like I was the one bleeding and screaming on the ground that day. I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes.

I heard the branch below me shift and suddenly felt the weight of Jackson’s head on my lap. I looked down at him, tears streaming down my pale cheeks. He stared back at me with eyes that said something like ‘I told you so’. I didn’t look away.

He reached out with his hand and wiped my tears away with his thumb. “It doesn’t hurt anymore”

“I’m sorry” I whispered.

His fingers lingered on my face. “It isn’t your fault I got hurt”

“I meant about Mira. It wasn’t my business”

“Yeah, well…” He lifted his head off my lap and stepped back onto the lower branch of the tree. “If I can’t even forgive something like that, did I ever love at all?”

He looked at me for a second longer, and then stepped off the branch.

I screamed when I saw him fall, reaching out with a useless hand to save him. But he landed on his feet and laughed at my bewildered state.

“Jackson! Don’t do that!”

“Chill out Joonki, I’m fine” He smiled up at me, and this time it reached his eyes. “Jump down”

“No way” I clung to the branch with both hands to emphasize the fact that I wouldn’t be moving an inch.

“I’ll catch you. Promise” He tilted his head and spread his arms up towards me.

I stood up and stepped down onto the same branch he had, but with much more hesitation. He still had that smiling face that could so easily put me at ease. That’s why I always noticed it before anything else. It was infectious.

I close my eyes and jumped. The air rushed against my ears and I felt adrenalin course through me. My breath was knocked right out of me when Jackson caught me. I opened my eyes and just then he stumbled under my weight and fell backwards.

Instead of chiding me or making a comment, he laughed. I braced my hands against his chest and pushed myself up to look at him.

“Your hair is a beautiful mess” He sat up, me still on top of him. His eyes reflected the moon.

I think that was the first time I looked at Jackson and thought of the word ‘love’.

--

We went back inside and I changed into my dress. I asked him if he had any alcohol we could drink.

“You do that stuff?”

“Why do you look so surprised?” I covered my mouth to stop a laugh. He looked so cute, the way he tilted his head and frowned, puzzled by me.

“You’re just… I don’t know. You don’t look the type”

“What does ‘the type’ look like?” I crossed my arms and waited for his answer, which never came.

Jackson led us to his parents’ alcohol cabinet and pulled out two bottles.

“Your favourites?”

“My friends’ favourites. But yes, mine too occasionally” He focussed on unscrewing the caps and pouring out four shots.

I didn’t know what he meant by ‘occasionally’, but I went along with it. I didn’t know Jackson’s tolerance either, but I think he assumed I was a lightweight, which was just going to make this all the more amusing.

We took two shots around each other’s arms, like best friends do in movies. The burn travelled down my throat and warmed me from head to toe. It tasted a lot sweeter than the stuff I was used to, but cold and fizzy. I liked it, and I could tell why Jackson liked it too.

It was like drinking the stars.

After two or three more shots I felt the alcohol going to my head. Jackson noticed, but didn’t say anything till I had my fifth.

“Calm down there sailor” He laughed and put his hand on the glass to stop me from taking another sip.

“You are a killer of my joy” I mumbled, putting the glass down and cracking my neck. I was still completely sober, if a bit heavy and lethargic. I was lucky there was no school tomorrow, to say the least.

“I think it’s time for you to go home” He got off his chair and pulled me off mine. I groaned in protest but he didn’t let go. I stumbled in my heels and he caught me before my face became better acquainted with the floor.

With one arm around my waist Jackson guided me through his house and out the door. The ten meters of sidewalk between our houses seemed to go on forever. I stumbled once or twice, but I still knew what I was doing. When we reached my porch Jackson asked me for my keys.

“It’s around my neck” I mumbled. Jackson shrugged and pulled the chain out from where it was hidden beneath my dress collar. The keys clinked against each other and I felt a shiver against my skin wherever they touched me. Jackson pulled the chain over my head and stepped forward to unlock my door.

“Should I walk you upstairs? Or will your parents freak out?” He asked, hands turning the key in the lock.

I reached out and tapped him on the shoulder twice. “Jackson?”

“Hm?”

When he turned around I stepped forward, held his face in my hands, and kissed him.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I smiled when I pulled away. It barely lasted a second, but I still felt the rush and the warmth of it.

“Goodnight”

I stepped past him and opened the door, taking my key out and locking it from the inside. After the door was shut I lost all the strength in my legs, letting myself fall into a heap on the ground.

Now he cheated too.

I wasn’t happy, or satisfied. This wasn’t how it was meant to be.

--

At school Jackson was the same as always. It was like last night hadn’t even happened. He was still his cheery carefree self, and it irked me more than it should have. At the end of the day I waited at my locker for a while, thinking that Jackson would run into me while I was still here, but I was wrong. He didn’t show.

Quite unexpectedly, I bumped into him as I opened the door which led to the parking lot.

“Joonki, sorry” He stepped back and opened the door to let me through. I pursed my lips and looked from his hand on the door handle to his face – which still revealed nothing.

“Jackson about last night, I –”

“You were drunk. You didn’t know what you were doing. It’s okay” His grip on the handle went limp and a soft look passed over his eyes. Sympathy? Understanding? I couldn’t tell.

I was not drunk. I wanted to say. What I should have said, but Jackson looked at me like he wouldn’t entertain another explanation, even if it was the truth.

“I’m still… sorry” I had the urge to stare at the ground in shame, but I watched his face, waiting. “Did you tell Mira?”

His expression hardened slightly. “It isn’t her business” His voice was suddenly too curt. I didn’t know what to think.

“Okay” I forced a smile and stepped past him into the open air.

Before I was out of earshot I heard him mumble, “She’ll just misunderstand. Even if I explain clearly that it was nothing”

--

But he did tell her, in the end. I don’t know if it was guilt or principle that made him do it. Later on I thought it was a way for him to escape. A way out which didn’t involve him breaking up with her. But it wasn’t. Jackson was too pure for something so wretched and underhanded as that.

Mira didn’t take it too well, but they stayed together despite that. She forgave him just like he forgave her. In a way it was poetic, cute even, if you looked at it from an outsider’s point of view. What surprised me most was that Jackson didn’t tell his friends.

Jackson came over less and less, but he still did. Every so often he would stay a while, and it was nice. Almost like it used to be. Just talking about nothing, or something small and insignificant.

One night I decided to surprise Jackson. I climbed, with significant effort, the tree between our houses, and ended up on his balcony. It felt daring and an adventure in itself. Like everything Jackson was. I knocked on the glass and waited for him to open the door. When the door slid open I couldn’t stop myself from jumping on him. He yelled out in surprise but it turned to laughter soon enough.

“Joonki… What!? Why!? HOW!?”

“You think you’re the only one who can climb a tree?” I laughed and sat down on his bed. “I wanted to surprise you, I guess. I didn’t know if you were coming over again anyway…”

“Oh yeah, sorry. I was occupied with some stuff” He shrugged, sitting down beside me. He was wearing sleeveless again, and I could see his arms. I tried not to look, but my eyes always wandered there after a while. Jackson used to notice, and tried to hide them, but after a while he didn’t seem to mind.

“What stuff? Work?” I prompted.

“No… It’s…” He bit his lip, deciding whether or not he should tell me. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and fell back onto the bed. “I wish you had kissed me like that a year ago”

I heard my heart murmur in my chest. Excitement, fear, anticipation, and curiosity all flooded through me at once.

“Why?” I looked down at him, watching his face intently.

He smiled and pursed his lips, as if trying to supress laughter, or blurting out a secret. Then he sat up and leaned over, bracing his elbows on his thighs and steepling his fingers under his chin.

“I liked you” He laughed softly, amused at his own coyness.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“What?! How did I not notice?” My mouth hung open in disbelief, too stunned to be excited or disappointed.

“I actually liked you since middle school, but you were like some unattainable dream for me. You were like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. So I didn’t try”

“I was a pot of gold? Unattainable dream?” I laughed at him, and his white cheeks turned red.

“Joonki! Do you know how difficult it is for me to say this!?” He slapped my arm, but that just made me laugh harder.

“This is what I love about you” I said, after the giggles left me.

“What is?” His eyes sparked with interest.

“Everyone thinks you’re some sort of god, to be put on a pedestal and worshipped. But you’re just like everyone else. And you don’t try to hide it. Everyone else just doesn’t see it”

“Just like everyone else? How?”

“For one, you get nervous telling a girl you like –”

“That was a long time ago!” He hit me before I could finish, and I fell onto the bed in stiches.

“I just don’t understand,” I began after he was lying beside me, “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“If you were me, would you have forgiven Mira?”

The question was sudden. I frowned, wondering why he cared what I thought. That wasn’t Jackson.

“No”

“Why?”

I had to think for a moment before answering.

“Because after you choose someone, you have to keep choosing them. Over and over again. Shit happens, but you still have to say ‘I choose you’. Every time”

After I went over my words, it seemed to short an answer to too complex a question. I wasn’t him, I wasn’t privy to his relationship with Mira. I couldn’t judge for either of them.

“Joonki?”

“Hm?” I turned my gaze form the ceiling to him. His eyes watched my intently for a while.

“I choose you”

And he leaned over and kissed me.

--

He started softly, carefully. Our fingers laced together and he turned so that his head was hovering over mine. When he was completely on top of me his lips moved from mine, brushing softly against my jawline and settling below my ear. I closed my eyes and sighed when I felt his teeth graze my neck. His breath against my skin sent shivers through me. I opened my eyes to see the ceiling fan, spinning slowly. I frowned and shifted under Jackson’s weight.

“No” It was too soft for Jackson to hear, but I felt him hesitate when I shifted myself.

I braced my free hand against his chest and shifted myself again. “No. Jackson, stop”

I pushed him off me and started to sit up. Jackson sat up straight and let go of my hand. An expression of disappointment and concern crossed his face.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” Jackson reached out and touched my face. For a second I lost my words, marvelling at how soft his fingers were.

“No. I just don’t want you on top of me”

He relaxed a little and smiled. “Why not?”

“It feels…”

Like a cage. I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. Not with those sweet shining eyes staring at me, waiting for my answer.

I shook my head and smiled. “You’re just too heavy, Jackson”

He laughed and leaned forward and kissed me again.

“Come here”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me on his lap, lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. My hair fell on his face when I looked down at him.

“Well, this is a first”

“What is?” I swished my hair to the side so I could see his face better. He had a wide grin plastered on his face.

“I’ve never been on the bottom before”

My cheeks tinted and I smacked Jackson’s head. “Shut up!”

Just then Jackson’s phone began vibrating. With an impatient huff his hand moved from my waist to his pocket.

“It’s Jackson”

The next thing he said was in Chinese, so I assumed it was his parents. The spoke for a while, and I sat there awkwardly on Jackson’s lap, doubtlessly making him uncomfortable by now. When Jackson cut the call he looked annoyed, but as soon as he looked at me his expression softened.

“Sorry. I have to go” He kissed me one last time, deep and hard, like saying this wasn’t the end.

I left the same way I came. That night was a sleepless stupor of me deliberating and overthinking.

It felt right. All of it felt right.

But it wasn’t.

--

The talk of the school the next day was Jackson and Mira’s breakup. There were different stories, but the crux was that they weren’t together anymore. I frowned, wondering why Jackson had chosen not to tell me. My eyes widened when I thought back to the previous night.

Was that what he was trying to tell me?

Suddenly I felt hurt. Was I his rebound? Was that all that was?

‘I choose you’

No. It couldn’t have been. Jackson wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t use me.

When I reached home Jackson called me to tell me he had a match next week and wanted me to come.

“I don’t have tickets, Jackson”

“Don’t worry about that. You can come as my guest. You’ll get a special seat and everything”

“Is anyone else from school coming?”

“Probably. I invited everyone. But they’ll have to buy tickets”

I wasn’t sure why I smiled at that.

“Okay. I’ll ask my parents”

They were in agreement.

--

We arrived at the indoor stadium well before any of the spectators. I watched Jackson practicing with a sparring partner, and even met some of his opponents. They all looked incredibly skilled, but Jackson pointed out little flaws in their technique here and there which I wouldn’t have noticed in a million years. It was fascinating.

After half an hour the fencers all had to change into their gear. I waited outside the dressing room for Jackson to come out. I couldn’t recognize him because the fencing gear had a full face mask, so I nearly jumped out of my skin and shrieked when he tapped me with his sword from behind me.

“Joonki be careful! You could have got cut!” Jackson lifted his mask and touched my shoulder to make sure I was okay.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I smacked his hand away and took a step back. He, of course, laughed.

“Go sit. I’m not up for a while” He pointed to where his parents were sitting, and I obediently left him to go sit with them.

The stadium started filling up quickly and the matches were underway in a short time. It was extremely well organized, with the tournament line-up on display for everyone on a big screen. I saw that Jackson would have two matches in about an hour. I spent that time scanning the crowd above us. I picked out a few of our classmates here and there, and I found Jackson’s inner circle. Near them I spotted Mira, anxiously glancing here and there. I turned back and kept my attention on the match that was just starting.

I tried not to feel like I was being watched by her.

I didn’t do anything wrong.

I didn’t.

--

Jackson’s first match finished in less than two minutes, and unsurprisingly, he won. It was marvellous seeing him in his element, concentrated and poised. He was so different than last time. Now he was more focussed, more controlled. The ringing of the swords clashing against each other was as loud and as powerful as before, but this time I wasn’t watching the match, I was watching Jackson.

Covered with layers of white, face hidden beneath a silver mask, he was beautiful.

When they finished, they bowed to one another, and Jackson came up to his parents for a bottle of water. He pulled off his mask, and slowly sipped the water. When his eyes met mine he smiled and raised his eyebrows.

He sat next to me and offered me the bottle. I took a small sip and handed it back to him.

“How was I?”

“Amazing”

I wanted to say beautiful, but I felt that would throw him off.

“Of course” He leaned back and spread his arms out. “I’m Jackson Wang. I never lose”

I laughed at his bravado and had to cover my mouth to stop the giggling.

“When are you going up next?”

“In a minute” He nodded towards the centre of the stadium, where his next opponent was already getting warmed up.

This was the last match for his category today. He stood up and cracked his neck before pulling his mask back on.

“Good luck” I smiled up at him, and he nodded. He said something to his parents in Chinese, and each held one of his hands in theirs and squeezed.

Jackson stepped onto the floor and weighed his sword in his hand. When he faced his opponent he bowed, waiting for the starting signal.

A green light above them flashed, and Jackson’s sword sliced through the air so fast I lost sight of it till it met with his opponents. They stood still for a long moment, before flowing into the next move. Jackson was already warmed up, and had the clear advantage of already having his muscles stretched out and the sword in control. However, despite that, neither one gave the other an inch. It was incredible. I saw Jackson’s parents from the corner of my eye, brows furrowed in concentration. Every time Jackson faltered they flinched. I didn’t notice it, but so did I.

--

Half an hour later, nothing had changed.

They were both obviously exhausted, and were fighting sloppily albeit with determination. I could see Jackson’s muscles tiring through his skin-tight clothes, and angle which his hand made to deflect and attack. I was getting nervous all the while.

Come on.

I saw Jackson’s head turn towards me, but I couldn’t be sure he saw me through his visor. It was just a split second before his eyes were back on his opponent again.

Jackson Wang never loses.

Just as the thought went through my mind, Jackson feinted, and circled around his opponent, ending with the tip of his sword against his opponent’s neck. The stadium held its silence until the green light above flashed.

And then it erupted into cheers.

Jackson dropped his sword, pulled his mask off, and, completely ignoring his opponent, walked towards me with such purpose in his stride I became slightly afraid. He grabbed my wrist, yanked me off my seat, spun me around and kissed me. In front of everyone.

When he pulled away he didn’t waste a second. He mumbled something to his parents in Chinese and then proceeded to pull me along with him to the changing rooms. He was out in less than two minutes. Without a word he took my hand and led me out of the stadium to his car.

He let go of my hand and turned to me. “I’m going for something, do you want to come?”

“Now you ask?” I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. “Sure. How long will we be?”

“About two hours”

I shrugged and agreed anyways. We got into the car and left the stadium behind.

--

Jackson pulled up in front of a building I didn’t recognize. The inside looked a lot like a hotel, and Jackson spent a minute at the reception asking for directions to Room 12C. We headed to the elevator and Jackson pressed the button for the 12th floor.

“What are we doing here, Jackson?”

He pursed his lips. “You’ll see”  

When the door opened we were met with a rush of people crowding the hall. There were all kinds of people, mostly teenagers with their parents, and a few adults by themselves. All were sitting either on chairs or on the floor, chatting or remaining silent. Jackson led me down the hall through the crowd and into Room 12C. The room was large, as big as two school classrooms, and filled with people.

Jackson leaned down to my ear so he didn’t have to yell. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a sec”

He left me standing at one end of the room by the door while he went up to a person sitting at a desk at the other end. They discussed something and Jackson pointed down at a paper on the desk. The person nodded and Jackson thanked him before making his way back to me.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. We just have to wait for a few minutes” Jackson leaned against the wall and tapped his foot impatiently.

A minute later two official looking men entered the room and locked the door behind them. The room fell silent as they took their seats just a few meters in front of us.

Spectators? Or judges…

The two men pulled out clipboards from their briefcases and began discussing something with one another. One of them stood up and turned to the people crowded at our end of the room.

He peered at his clipboard and then scanned the crowd. “Wang Jackson?”

“Yes” Jackson raised his hand and stepped forward.

“Please come” He gestured with his hand, and Jackson followed.

The man stepped to the side to allow Jackson to take his place at the centre of the room. Jackson stood facing the judges, and me, along with the rest of the crowd, standing behind them. He looked to the side and nodded at the person at the desk. I watched intently, waiting for what Jackson was about to do. Suddenly the room filled with a steady beat of music. I didn’t recognize the song, but it seemed familiar. Something that came on the radio ever so often.

Then, right there in front of us, Jackson started dancing.

--

It was beautiful and aggressive and powerful and Jackson.

I had never seen something so Jackson before. I thought fencing was it for him. That was his element. But this was more than that. His eyes burned with fire, not the red passionate kind, but the blue determined kind. Not the ones that say I want to win. The ones that say I will win.

When he finished we could hear his heavy breathing echoing. His chest rose and fell with his fatigue. He wasn’t sweating since there was air conditioning in the room, but he was exhausted. The judges called him to them and pointed out some stuff on a paper. Jackson nodded and bowed multiple times, thanking both of them profusely. The judges called for the next person, but I was focussed on Jackson as he walked towards me.

He took my hand in his and hugged me tightly.

“How was I?” He said after letting go. I looked into his eyes and saw the fire dimming.

“Amazing”

I wanted to say beautiful, but I felt that would throw him off. Again.

“Thanks for being here” He smiled and gave me soft kiss on my mouth before taking my hand and leading me out of the room.

The hall was still crowded with busy people. We weaved our way to the elevators and in minutes were back in Jackson’s car, heading home.

“What was that for?” I finally asked when we were settled on Jackson’s bed. We weren’t doing anything really. Just lying next to each other.

“What?”

“That… performance”

“I…” Jackson sat up and ran his hand through his hair. I sat up momentarily and leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t say anything if you don’t want to”

“I want to. I just… It’s hard to word it”

He leaned against me and sighed. “I don’t want to be a fencer”

That didn’t hit me as hard as he probably thought it would. I simply nodded. “Okay. You want to dance?”

“Not just that. Perform. I want to go to Korea to perform”

“Why can’t you? Why doesn’t anyone know?” I sat up straight and frowned at him, even though he couldn’t see my face.

“My parents” He sighed and leaned back down on the bed again.

“They said no?”

“They said if I get top-tier in the senior nationals and qualify for training then I can go”

I smiled down at him and rested my chin on his chest. “Do it. You’ll do it”

He smiled and pulled me on top of him completely. “I hope”

And we fell asleep together to the sound of the ceiling fan and the dimming fire in Jackson’s eyes.

It was perfect.

--

Every day with Jackson was like a wonderful unbelievable dream.

He would do this thing on our dates, counting kisses. Every ten dates he’d start from one again. On the first date my right cheek. Then left. Then my palms and the backs of my hands. That’s six. Then on the seventh date my forehead. On the eighth my nose. On the ninth my chin. And on the tenth date my mouth. Then it would start all over again.

Sometimes he would forget so I’d fool him into thinking he owed me extra kisses. It always worked.

Whenever there were new letters in Jackson’s mailbox he always rushed down, no matter what we were in the middle of doing. It was amusing but also a little unnerving. He wasn’t particularly disappointed when it wasn’t his audition verdict, because he knew they’d send a letter even if he didn’t qualify, but I could feel the heat – not anger, more like anticipation, radiating off him whenever he sorted through his letters.

--

Some Saturday morning’s Jackson would go to the public gymnasium for his senior group practice. Whenever I would tag along we would have lunch somewhere quiet close by and some of his friends would come with us sometimes. I’d met a lot of his fencing buddies, and rivals, and all of them were just as good as him.

On the day, it was cold and crispy, and Jackson was heading back from practice. He called me and told me to come over. I was waiting in his room when he got home.

“How was practice?”

“The same. I killed it” He smirked. I promptly looked away as he proceeded to pull off his shirt.

“It’s okay to look” He laughed when he saw that I was averting my eyes.

“I know” I said, turning my head forward. He was in a sleeveless shirt now. I didn’t bother hiding the look I gave his forearms. It was still unnerving even after all this time.

“Did you get any mail?”

“Let’s talk about that later” He yawned and stretched himself out on the bed, throwing an arm over me to pull me down with him.

We slept together, in the most innocent way possible, for about an hour. Jackson’s phone woke us up. He answered the phone with a bitter expression and a tired groan.

“Yes?”

After hearing the response from the other end of the line, Jackson bolted upright.

“Yes this is Jackson Wang”

He untangled his legs from mine and I watched him through one eye, still half asleep. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed, got up, and began pacing as he spoke. Suddenly he stopped and looked at the floor, mumbling a soft ‘Yes’ into the receiver before cutting the call. I frowned in concern.

“Jackson? What happened?”

He was silent for a long moment, biting his lip and looking everywhere but at me. He sat down at the end of the bed and brought his hand to his mouth. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and pulled the sheet off hurriedly. Something was wrong. When I touched Jackson’s shoulder and he looked at me I saw tears staining his cheeks. Without hesitation my arms wrapped around him tightly and I supressed the urge to ask ten thousand questions. He leaned against me and I felt his chest rising unevenly with tension.

“I made it, Joonki. I made it. I’m going to Korea”

--

After we graduated Jackson threw the entire grade the biggest party we had ever attended. Everyone was drunk and raving to terrible house music till 3 AM except Jackson, who was spending his time saying goodbye. He was leaving for Korea in two days, so I stayed at his house to help him pack the rest of his things. I was going to drop him to the airport anyway, but I had the urgent need to stay with him as long as possible. As long as we could.

The night before our last Jackson whispered to me, ‘I love you’, over and over again, after I had given my virginity to him. I fell asleep to that sound, his voice forming the words, his breath against my ear, and the beating of our hearts.

--

I heard shuffling and the back of my eyelids turned bright. Jackson spoke softly in my ear.

“Joonki, wake up. It’s time to go”

I sat up and covered my naked body with the sheet, waiting for Jackson to pass my clothes. We moved around silently, picking up and passing things, putting things away. It was all very robotic. When we went downstairs Jackson’s parents were already eating breakfast, although it was 4 AM. I left the three of them together, choosing to wait outside. It was freezing and dark, but I had one of Jackson’s sweatshirts on. Ten minutes later the door opened and Jackson came out to stand with me.

We stared at nothing. It was too dark to stare at anything at all. I felt his hand, his fingers playing with mine.

“Don’t forget me”

“Never”

--

I tried my best to stay awake in the car, but sleep swallowed me. I leaned on Jackson, and our hands never left each other’s, but I wanted to see him. Hear him for just a little longer. Before I could blink we were there. His parents unloaded his things while he and I stayed in the car. I was still half asleep, but he was whispering to me, and that was enough to keep me listening.

We climbed out of the car and walked Jackson to the entrance of the airport. I stood a few steps back as he conversed with his parents. His mom was actually crying, and his dad might as well have been. I wanted to cry too but I didn’t want to take this moment from them. Jackson gave them both one last hug before coming to me. He smiled at me and gave me a long hard kiss. I felt myself being lifted off my toes as he smiled against my mouth. He mouthed ‘I love you’ against my lips and I mouthed it back.

He put me down and we stared at each other silently for a moment, taking mental pictures of each other to keep for the rest of forever. He gave me one last kiss, on my forehead this time, before taking his bags and turning towards the airport entrance. When he stepped through those doors and waved back at the three of us, I couldn’t wave back. I couldn’t.

--

2 years later

The screaming is unbearably loud in the concert hall. I can’t deal with it. I almost want to leave, but I’ve paid so much, I’ve come so far, I might as well stay for the show.

It takes about half an hour for the show to start. An announcer comes on the stage and the crowd gets even more angsty. I can’t understand what the guy is saying at all, but the lights brighten on the stage and the group members start to emerge from the tunnel on the stage. I squint at them, trying to tell them apart from one another.

One, two, three, four, five…

Six.

There he is.

I smiled while everyone else screamed. Another member came out behind him, but I’d found who I was looking for.

He really made it here…

When the song starts, I start screaming along with everyone else. It feels exhilarating, the sound, the sweat, the bodies cheering as one. If this is what I feel, I can’t imagine what he feels, up there watching us, performing for us. For me.

He probably doesn’t even know I’m here.

--

After the concert is over everyone flows out of the hall like an angry mob. The people with backstage passes head towards the stage rather than away. I consider following them and try my hand at conning my way backstage, but think better and decide to leave. I wait a long while for a taxi, but the crowd outside the hall is exactly that. A crowd.

I make my way to the side of the massive concert building, deciding to find a taxi on the other side to take me back to my hotel. The alley is chilly and damp, and I have to be careful where I walk. On the other side it’s far quieter and well lit. There is a dark grey van parked by some stairs which lead back into the concert building. There are a couple of people hanging about, heading in and out. I ignore them and proceed to walk past, keeping my head down. When the door opens I tilt my head and peer inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone familiar. But it’s too dark to see anything.

When I’m at the end of the back alley, about to turn onto the next side-street, I hear quick footsteps behind me. When I stop, they stop too. I tense.

“…Jung Joonki?”

I cover my mouth to stop the scream.

“How can you tell?” I turn around and there he is, Jackson. My Jackson.

“Oh my God it really is you. I saw you but I just couldn’t… I didn’t…” He loses the words and before he can find them I step forward and hug him.

“You look great”

“Not too different, then?”

I laugh and pull away to look at him, but his arms stay loosely wrapped around me.

“You’re still you”

“You aren’t” He says seriously, and I frown.

“What do you mean?”

His expression remains stern. “You got prettier. That’s why I couldn’t tell it was you”

I laugh again but he remains serious, which only makes me laugh more.

Someone calls Jackson’s name from the alley, the people waiting by the car. They are waiting for him.

“I have to go” He lets go of me and steps back, biting his lip.

“I know”

He doesn’t make a move.

I crack my knuckles and rock back and forth on my shoes. “You know… when you left, I think it was our first date after ten”

“Really?” Jackson’s eyes widen, not with surprise but memory. “I think you’re right. Does that make this our second?”

“I guess…” I smile and try not to laugh. It doesn’t work. Jackson glances over his shoulder to the people waving at him.

He steps towards me and cups my face in his hands. The sudden lack of distance between us makes me lose my breath altogether. It has been far too long.

“One”, he counts, kissing my right cheek. He rests his forehead against mind for a moment, savouring it.

“Two”, he counts, kissing my left.

I wait for him to let go of my face but he doesn’t. “Jackson, that’s two”

“I don’t care” He says as leans down and kisses my lips hard. I’m breathless when he pulls away, and so is he.

“Jackson…” I say softly, stepping back before he can even think of kissing me again. I know I was.

“Joonki I –”

“You have to go” I nod past him to the people waiting. “Your friends are waiting”

“Joonki I need… I want… How do I say…” He let out a breath of exasperation.

“Don’t say goodbye” I take his hand in mine and kiss the back of it.

He sighs and turns around to go back. He stops for a moment in the middle of the alley to look back at me.

“Have a good life, Jackson” I say to him, with the surety that he can’t hear me.

But he surprises me my mouthing back to me:

“I will”

--