#pullstrings

with a heavy sigh and notebook in hand, tommy sat down on the grass not too far from the water. he had come to the han river for some writing inspiration and fresh air. but as soon as he arrived, he began to regret it. everywhere he looked there were young couples giggling and cooing under trees and much more good-looking young men and women jogging right under his nose. while it had already been a few months since he was released from prison (early, with probation at that), tommy felt odd in public spaces. he rarely grocery shopped or went out to eat. most of his work was done in the comfort of his own home. he tried his best to stay out of trouble now that he felt some sense of career stability. and yet, he missed his old self. old friends. old flames.

pursing his lips in thought, he reflected a bit on what it was he actually wanted. sometime between when he moved to seoul and the moment his sentence was set, he had decided that he wanted to become known for making music. not as an addict or sick person. now that he was out, he debated whether it was that he wanted to be known for his music or simply just known. sitting in arguably the most populated area he had inhabited as of late, he felt largely insignificant and unseen in his baseball cap. maybe notoriety was what he was looking for all along. absentmindedly, he took out his phone and began to scroll through his contacts for some hopeful affirmation. mid-way he stopped. jungah? he mouthed out the name. jung-ah? memories came rushing in. quickly, he messaged her.

[ sms » jungah ? ] hey. remember me? 

tommy snapped a photo of the twinkling water that reflected the setting sun, making sure the illuminated bridge was recognizable in the distance so that it was unmistakable where he was. he attached the photo in the chat.

After the initial meeting with a strange girl with strange traits, the rest of the forty-eight hours that followed were nothing short of average. Rhys returned to his regulated schedule of entitled clients and foreign cars. Repaired, got dirty, returned home, showered, slept, and repeat. Not very exciting, but he welcomed the simplicity.

Rhys left Bao at home before coming to the shop the dawn of the second day. The animal would've been a good alert for when the messenger bird arrived with Jungah's instructions, but, well-- Bao was about as annoying as Keia was, the latter duly insisting Rhys just decline Jungah, decline her offer. He told her to shut up or dog-sit. Keia avoided him all morning.

Anyone who knew Rhys personally could testify that his patience waned easily. As of now, he was situated with his back to the shop's entrance, hood popped on one of the more recent cars brought in, and explaining small details to a younger employee of his. An apprentice of sorts-- though that sounded too high fantasy.

he’s lucky she likes animals so much. watching dubu scratch at her door is a little hilarious because after a few fruitless seconds he points his nose to the crack at the bottom of the heavy door, as if his sniffs and scoffs will make her magically appear.

“she might not be home, you know.”

there’s slack in the leash as he stands slightly off to the side. gyuhan tugs gently, but is met with resistance. the dog nose doesn’t lie. dubu is right, though--jungah is most definitely in the apartment. she’d had a guest over yesterday, though he’s yet to properly figure out her name (he makes a note to figure that out soon enough), but they had left by the end of the night. however, his job as security and surveillance isn’t what has him standing outside today. “i guess i’ll have to put you in a dog hotel or something.” he mutters, looking down at the excitable puppy.

his agency requires a physical exam every two years, and he’s due for his firearm re-certification, so he’s trying to knock it all out in one go. he’d already informed jungah’s fathers of the dates he’ll be away, only two nights and three days, but that leaves...dubu.

obviously he wouldn’t be able to be as vigilant as he’d like, but maybe he could put an audio bug or something on dubu’s collar. technology is amazing.

wind whistled past the stairway, which was open to the elements. though her skirt was almost snug, it filled like a sail with the occasional strong gust from below, providing enough lift to make her steps unsteady. she kept a tight grip on the handrail, stepping one at a time, stopping now and then to brush aside the stray hair hanging down her forehead. climbing down, she thought about yoon jungah. she had not been intending to think about jungah, but once the thoughts began, she couldn’t stop them. she can’t meet her crush looking like a mess, and she was sure, if not then, any instance they would meet could be the last as graduation day approaches.

as if on cue, there she stood just across the stairway, likely on her way to the library. it was where she often saw her anyway. chaeyeon liked her books, whether she needed to study or not, and jungah just so happened to have this routine that fit hers. though in the past her mere purpose was to actually read, the time spent there had become divided into ogling the new subject of her interest. the expressions that she would make, or the lack of it; the way she would stare out the window, blankly; how she carried herself, in general. it was not hard to notice but chaeyeon recalled them all with strange clarity, as if whenever she thought of them, they were happening right in front of her eyes.

it finally came time to approach her, just before she slips away to make chaeyeon miss her shot.

“sunbaenim, can i talk to you?” said chaeyeon in an uncharacteristic timid voice.

it was odd, to say the least. maybe it was jungah’s aura that made her this way. she had confessed to someone before, a girl at that. it was nothing like this. it was a casual, ‘hey, i like you.’ kind of confession, to vaguely sum it up. she didn’t like putting herself in awkward situations, so she tried to act cool in every one of them. 

everyone gave her dirty looks regardless. she always was a little different. people disliked her for that. nights spent vomiting everyday and crying, over time she had become desensitized, save for the torture she had undergone that made her reach the point of almost feeling empty. almost. anything after seemed superficial. maybe even this. but it made her nervous either way.

perhaps it was all the insecurities she held deep and never acknowledged. she had no one to talk to, really. no one was warm and open as her family. anytime she was with company, it had to do with business, and any occurrence that led her to believe she could speak her mind, she would be shut down with intimidating silence.

this was a turn in her life, however little the changes were. in this new environment, she was invisible. there were people like jungah who had more rumors up her sleeve. no one cared about chaeyeon. she was known to have no background, and she went along this path for the sake of her sanity. it was better that way.

“can we go inside? it’s cold out here.” she didn’t want anyone to hear what she had to say.

hands curled into fists as she went on walking in front of the other. her eyes were warily shifting along with the slight turn of her head to get a small glimpse of jungah following behind.

it stung a bit when she asked for her name once inside and in a more private space. then again, she was in no place to expect jungah to know her. but what was said after gave her some reassurance. she noticed me, she thought. like a little girl. perhaps she still was at heart. but she couldn’t say that out loud and look foolish. “i’ll do better,” was all she could really say back to her call out.

any window of opportunity she could get at feeling something, no matter how insignificant, she grabbed. it was difficult to face but it was the only way she could have a sense of being. as she spoke, her gaze avoided contact with the female any way they can. it would fixate on the ground or down her crossed hands, on the shelves or down the anxious tapping of her feet.

she recognized the burden jungah was trying to endure all on her own. it was familiar. rather, she knew it all too well. it wasn’t fun, to put it simply. she would never want that for jungah, even though she didn’t know her too well. she wouldn’t want that for anyone. “don’t bear it all on your own if you can.”

she wasn’t trying to tell her what to do. she was implying something more that she couldn’t say outright, for some reason. at least at that very moment. she wanted to say it was possible. that jungah can have someone. her tongue rolls back, consonants involuntarily stumbling. there was a lump in her throat stopping her from saying it. the silence that took over the atmosphere didn’t help with easing the tight, uncomfortable feeling either.

“i’m right here.”

once it was said, she would feel all levels of embarrassment and stupidity. she was asking too much. she knew she did. they knew each other in passing, and any affection she could offer was built on her observing from afar. she was naive for what she was suggesting, supposing jungah got the hint.

she wanted to take it back then and there, clarify that she only meant it all in a platonic way. that she wasn’t a freak or any other offensive word they liked to label her sexuality with. but instead, she received a thank you. for honesty? she never had trouble with it. she was able to chalk up enough courage to stand for herself or speak up. she had a personality that sat on the extreme. after all the people who truly cared to know her and figure out how to handle her, no one ever knew what to do with it anymore. it was saddening to hear someone be grateful for a portion of the human condition’s formula.

the compliment kept her hanging by a thread, but blushing all the way to her ears nonetheless. she thought it to be unnecessary when the obvious answer was no. and she was right about her assumptions. it was hard enough for a relationship out of the norm to happen back home, she expected no less of a country that couldn’t even allow men and women to be friends without putting any kind of malice in their relationship.

“i’m sorry, i hope you can understand.”

the words kept ringing in her head and she felt an ache in her chest. a couple of them. like her heart was getting broken into tiny pieces, all so slowly. in defeat, she asked, “can you keep this a secret?” and sure enough, she had on a smirk on her face as if to tell her there was no need to worry about such a thing. she could tell it was genuine. rumors stayed rumors with jungah for a reason. chaeyeon could learn a thing or two from her.

next thing you know, she was asking for a souvenir. it was out of nowhere, enough to catch chaeyeon off guard. especially knowing then that jungah had no interest in returning her feelings. “souvenir? like a photo?” she asked, unguarded of what was about to happen.

jungah would be leaning in before she could do or say anything but her eyes would close anyway, savoring the soft plush that enveloped her own pair. the warmth it provided had the tiny little hairs on the back of her neck standing. it happened so briefly that she felt regretful when her lips weren’t pressed on hers anymore. it left her in a stupor, eyes crossed once they opened again. 

“no, no. thank you.” she exclaimed a little louder than intended, hopefully expressing how giddy she felt from the brief contact. she blinked the daze away but it left her grinning wide enough that her cheeks puffed all the way to make her eyes seem smaller. the suddenness of it took away all the rationale she had. she easily blurted out that it was fine, that it wasn’t out of line. it probably would have been if it were someone else other than chaeyeon receiving the gesture; someone else other than jungah offering it.

that was the end of it. chaeyeon didn’t know whether she would meet her again, whether the kiss meant anything more than just a souvenir. or if the souvenir meant anything more, period.

she would find that out in a few years.

[ 01:19 ] hey i know it’s late, sorry to bother you. 

[ 01:20 ] what you said the other day bothered me a little bit. what did you mean by getting with girls and reading actions better? and a lot of work? with?? 

@pullstrings

part time jobs come easy if you can forge your parent’s signature. jimin’s father is hardly around at home that he doesn’t even know what his signature looks like, but he can guess. it was a poor imitation of his father’s handwriting, but the manager couldn’t care less. how bitter it was to forge his father’s signature but how sweet it was to be given a job so easily. both the manager of the convenience store and jimin himself have been desperate, neither were in the position to be picky. 

when did his hunger for independence start, he doesn’t know. maybe it was when he first realised he couldn’t do anything for his weeping mother, or when there was no one to turn to whenever his father raised his hand at him. the hunger keeps him wide awake at odd hours of the night, his attention shifting back and forth from his textbook to the occasional customer in the middle of the night. the fluorescent lights never seems to change despite the sky turning blue to black with time. 

the space within the walls of the lonely convenience store at three in the morning doesn’t feel real. the street lights outside are dim and the roads are just dim at the brightest, the store looks like a star being devoured by a black hole. there’s something about the white lights that keeps him awake without the need for caffeine, but it makes his eyes hurt. jimin sinks deeper into the hard plastic chair behind the cashier and presses the tips of his fingers against his eyelids. 

he keeps his eyes closed until he hears the door bell ring, a rush of late autumn wind coming in as the glass door swings open. he doesn’t greet her like how he’d greet others, only giving her a smile. he wonders how she can make her way through the dark streets so effortlessly without showing any fear on her face, but he never asks. jimin leans across the cashier and gives her a small wave. “you’re a little early, my shift doesn’t end in another 10 minutes.”