#taoc

Yesterday was in the back of your mind, but also in the forefront. The gallery viewing turned in a way that you had least expected it to, and you weren’t mad about it.

Friday morning came quickly - too fast for your small amount of hours of sleep. Friday meant the end of the work week, which also meant the weekend was near, and when Monday rolls around you will hear all different stories about your students weekend.

Teaching had never been something you dreamt of doing when going to school in the States. You actually wanted to be a pediatric nurse, but it was too fast paced and a huge emotional toll. You even picked that as a career track, but changed it your 3rd year in college to English and teaching. Which then led you here, in Korea teaching the English language to kids. It was a major shock, mentally and culturally, but you're fairing well months in.

Killing time until your next class gets in, you file through lesson plans for all your classes, finding the one for the first class you’re teaching. You familiarize yourself with your lesson plan again and made sure you had everything prepared for class again.

This morning you were teaching 3 third grade classes.

You're greeted by your students as they walk in. Hi’s, hellos and good mornings came your way in English and Korean and you happily said them back.

The class moved along, your students catching on slow but understanding well with the current lesson.

“When you meet someone new,” you say, carefully writing on the board, “ You should always introduce yourself. Hello my name is __.” You then point to a few of the students, giving them time to figure out how to say it. “You can also say ‘Hi I am__.’ that works just fine to but it’s not as nice and polite as hello,”

For more practice, you play a couple of videos for the students to listen to, even working through worksheets with them as a class.

Your second 3rd grade class moves a little faster in the lesson, it was great and made you proud of how excited they were to learn. Your body was turned to the side as you spoke and wrote on the board again, reviewing what they went over last time. You were further introducing several more introductions and follow up questions to ask after.

Q: What’s your name?

A: My name is___

“Easy right? Especially since we went over this already,”

“Do we have to do it again” one of the kids form the back mumbles but you still hear it.

“Yes again, last time some of you forgot your own names,” this earned you a round of laughs and giggles. “Who wants to try?” no one raised their hand at first. You look around the class, patiently waiting and understanding how some of them either didn’t want to answer or were afraid to answer and get it wrong.

Then a small hand went into the air.

“선생님, 만약 당신이...” the student pause and tries again in English. “Teacher, what if you meet someone, and forget to say your name?” a young girl asked you from the front of the class. There were some snickers through the class you; you blink, caught off guard but you smile and answer.

“Then you say it later. If you are still with the person, you can still tell them your name after. But they may ask your name at the start or even in the middle of talking with you,” That answer was easy, it was something you knew like second nature. You’ve had countless new conversations when names were forgotten until the middle of the conversation or in the end. But for some reason, last night you did the opposite. You never gave your name, and you never asked for his.

“Is it weird?” she asks tilting her head, hand still in the air.

“그래, 그렇습니다.” Yeah it is

“지금은 너무 늦었어” It’s too late now. A couple of kids had answered as you gathered your thoughts.

“If it’s not your turn, no talking,” correcting those who spoke out before turning your attention back to the young girl. “No, it’s not,” she said quickly, softer this time. “It’s not weird. You can always say it later.”

“Can you meet again if you don’t say you name?” another student asked.

“Yes, you can meet them again if you don’t know them. Remember when I first came to meet you guys? You didn’t know me, and you were able to meet me again,”

“But what if you never see them. Not everyday or sometimes?” another question, hypothetical but not hard to give an answer, but one that would satisfy the class nonetheless. All the question threw you for a loop. You were used to questions, young children had them all the time, your students asked you questions every day. But these questions stick with you for the rest of the day.

‘Why didn’t I give him my name?’

At the end of your last class, after all the children filed out and told you to have a good weekend - you telling them to have fun and stay out of trouble - you clean up and move the desk how you need them to next week. You organized the worksheets and practice sheets by the different grade levels you taught today. You erase today and add the day for Monday of next week. You were met with that question you had on the board today from your morning class ‘what’s your name?’

“What is your name?” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully. It didn't matter. That happened yesterday, the night gone, the interactions lost in the abyss of lingering memories and moments that have happened in the lively gallery. You slowly erase the question off the board.

‘did it…?’

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You let your mind relax and focus on the music you played on your 30 minute train ride home to your small apartment. Soft music was your go to. When you do make it back you kick off your shoes and move towards the living room. Your phone pings - you ignore it as your mind was focused on forgetting about the day and forgetting about the moment that happened at the gallery.

You shower before making your way into the kitchen - remembering your phone pinged so you go find it the last place you were at.

“Was the gallery actually good??”

She finally got back to you - Jiwon - almost a day later. It was hard to not be annoyed but you were. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder as you walk back and look at the text again.

“She already knew I t was good. This is an artist she likes.” murmuring as you lay your back done.

“Yeah. It was nice.”

You make a face, hand blindly reaching into your bag and pulling out a folder full of tests to grade, a notebook where you write your lesson plans.

You delete the text not wanting to send that, it sounded bland. Almost dismissive in a way.

“I met someone.”

Nope, why would you say that randomly. Jiwon asked about the gallery showing not about the man you meet. Was it even real? Was he even real?

“You missed it.”

That message was sent and went through to Jiwon. Tossing your phone, you finally pay attention to what you were digging out of your bag. Charger, laptop, miscellaneous papers, pens with no caps and the lip balm you’ve been looking for since last Thursday. “Why do I even carry half of this stuff with me?” you murmur softly, reaching for the stack of papers. Your fingers flip through them to figure which you really need to keep - probably none of them - as they are sorted into piles. Trash on one side, keep on the other. A paper slips from the stack and lands on the floor, you know that since it hit your foot. You bend to grab it but pause.

The gallery pamphlet rested in your hands, edges softened slightly from being carried around all week without you noticing. You don’t remember slipping it into your bag, you had used a different one at the time. ‘Maybe I shoved it in there to get it out of the way.’ You say this in your head but your eyes stare at it like it was something you lost and couldn’t find. That painting, the one you forgot about also, the whole reason that conversation was started. You could see it know in your head. Emotional in a way that was subtle. The time and effort but into each brush stroke - something you never paid attention to until he mentioned it.

Your finger runs over the matte, cardstock like paper pamphlet. You could hear the conversation between you too. Your thumb rubs across his name.

“So that’s your name…Hwang..Hyunjin,” she says to herself, imagining the way his name would sound and if it matched his face and personality. You couldn’t tell, you barely remembered what he looked like. A meeting by chance, a moment created. I should throw this away, you thought. Your eyes run over it, thumb flattening the bent corners to smooth them out. I could look him up, you also thought and was thinking about acting on it. It was an easy, quick search, yeah you could do it. You should do it. Actually you don’t need to. You won’t look him up.

You look at the pamphlet and then, placing it in the keep pile.

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You head to the cafe a block from your apartment to get a pick me up and attempt to get stuff done before Monday rolls around and you end up leaving yourself scrambling. The bell rings as you walk through the door, smiling at the barista as you say your order. You then walk over to the window and sit while you wait.

You squeeze your bag between you and the window, pull out your phone just to disregard it to look outside at the bustling streets. It was a late afternoon, the cafe for how big it was felt spacious without that many people inside - or outside. Typically it would be bustling, from college students, morning meet ups, coffee dates or a sense of a new environment for some. But at the moment it’s like they just opened for the day - you get coffee enough from this cafe to know they open at 8am in the mornings.

Your eyes watch people walk by, some in a rush others in a causal stroll. There was a family - a mom, dad and toddler - who moved down the sidewalk. The two of them looked happy, refreshed and so attuned. The toddler sat up, holding their hand out pointing at things - the mom smiled down and pointed at the same thing with a smile.

A young girl strolled by, head phones on as she focused ahead, only looking down to tap at her phone screen to which you assumed was to change her music. Or maybe check the time. Maybe she was listening to a podcast instead you wondered.

A taxi came to a stop to let a patron at their destination. Then it moved fast back into the flow of track - just a beat too soon since another car swerved and blared their horn. You just shake your head with a sigh.

At the sound of your name you rise to grab your tea off the counter, thanking the barista, and familiarize yourself with your spot. You hold your cup loosely in your hands - you aren’t burning yourself today. Steam curls upward before disappearing just as quickly.

Around, cups clinked softly against saucers. Someone laughed near the register. A group of university students crowded around a tiny table in the corner, talking over one another too loudly. You could hear their conversation so well to know they were talking about nightly activities, picking a couple of club to go and hop around in hopes to run into an tv star or kpop idol. Oh to be able to dabble in the delusional with a group of friends and not be judged. Maybe you’ll get there one day - the group of friends, not the delusion part.

You’ve been in Korea long enough to know your way around enough, to speak wth the locals, to get invited to after work drinks with coworkers and friends. You should at least have a couple of friends to call your own - aside from Jiswoo. She’s great really, even introduced you to her friends but they were her friends not yours. Like your life currently, in the cafe you felt strangely separate from it all, like you were sitting slightly outside the moment instead of inside it.

It had been days. Enough time that you should’ve stopped replaying the conversation by now. Enough time that his voice should’ve blurred around the edges, softened into something vague and unimportant.

It hadn’t. If anything, you remembered it more clearly now. The way he’d paused before answering sometimes. The way he looked at the painting longer after you spoke, like he was seeing it differently too. Or maybe you’d imagined that part.

Exhaling softly, you take another sip of your drink. The bell above the café door chimed. Your eyes lifted automatically. No it’s not him. You look back down immediately, almost embarrassed by the instinct. ‘Why did I just…of course it wouldn’t be him, why would I think it was going to be him?’

You weren’t expecting him to walk in, no.. Seoul was too large for coincidences like that. People met each other every day and disappeared from each other just as easily.

Still, your curiosity won the better of you and your gaze drifted toward the door again a few minutes later anyway. Just checking. Which was somehow worse. ‘Stop being ridiculous’ you tell yourself as you shift in your seat. It had been days, coincidences happened in kdramas.

Reaching for your phone, you unlock it this time and open your messages. Then you swiped out and closed them. You shift your eyes to look out the window once more, knee bouncing lightly. ‘I could go back’ you thought, the idea of going back to the gallery settling more and securely. Why? You don’t exactly know but it won’t hurt to indulge the ideas a little even thought it was crazy.

Not today. But maybe.

After a while you stood, gathering your things, double checking you had everything. The chair scraped softly against the floor. You glance around the cafe once more. From the counter, to the empty table the college students were at when you first got here, even briefly to the stranger with sunglasses resting on their head who sat a couple of tables away by the window like you had. On your way out you were left with the thought and cursing at yourself for not thinking of bringing sunglasses or a hat yourself to protect your eyes from the sun; missing the glance from the stranger a few tables away.

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THIS FRAME I ADORE BTW SHES SO DISTRAUGHT