West Seoul University Series

by Leigh Ban

  Once I was alone in my room, I broke into sobs. I cried myself to sleep, knowing it was all over. Although I’d inevitably see him on billboards and overhear strangers gushing over him, we would never meet again. Even if I wanted to hear him speak in his deep voice, reserved for people he was comfortable around. Even if I wanted another whiff of his tantalizing scent. Even if I wanted to take back what I told him.

  When I woke up the next morning, I felt more alone than I’d ever been in my life. The waterworks continued. I thought of how nice it would be to wake up with my body pressed against his, to have him smile at me as soon as he opened his eyes. An hour or two later, I realized my throat was incredibly dry; I’d cried myself dehydrated. I eventually found the strength to lift myself out of bed so that I could grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge. When I opened the door, my head felt woozy and I was sniffling. Christy glanced at me from the sofa, smirking.

  Over a month later, during the last week of summer break, I was stocking up on notebooks and folders at the university gift shop when Joon approached me. He looked like his old self again, back before he appeared on K Hip-Hop Hustle. His hair was straight, not permed, and he wore a long-sleeve crewneck shirt even though the temperature hadn’t cooled down yet.

  “Dana Day? I didn’t expect to see you here today. How have you been?” he asked as he extended his arms to embrace me.

  “Good, I guess.” I laughed and let him give me a hug.

  “You don’t know how pleased I am to see you. Are you busy? Can we talk for a bit?”

  “Let me pay for my stationery first,” I replied, pointing to the basket I was holding.

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Since the gift shop was having a special sale on notebooks with the West Seoul University logo on the cover, there was a long line of students, each holding a large pile. While Joon and I waited in line, neither of us uttered a word. Even though the silence was awkward, I didn’t have anything to say to him. On the other hand, he peered at me as if he were waiting for the right moment to tell me what was on his mind.

  “I can’t believe we bumped into each other. What a coincidence, huh?” Joon exclaimed as we walked out of the gift shop.

  I shrugged. Seeing as we were both West Seoul University students and I lived on campus, I wasn’t particularly amazed to have bumped into him.

  “Why don’t we take a seat?” he suggested, pointing to a bench next to the shop entrance.

  “What did you want to tell me?” I checked the time on my phone.

  “Dana, I missed you so much. About a week ago, I had the craziest dream. I was a game character, kind of like a knockoff Super Mario, and I was on a mission to save you. You were my Princess Peach. There were neon mushrooms everywhere. It was pretty wild. Ever since then, I couldn’t stop thinking of you. You were constantly on my mind. After that crazy dream, I knew I had to see you.”

  I blithely dismissed him. “Oh, Joon, dreams don’t mean anything.”

  “You’re right. My dreams can get super wacky. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I think you’re the one for me, Dana. I’ve never been this into someone. You’re a magical girl. I know I shouldn’t have made excuses on why we couldn’t be in a relationship. In my defense, I was afraid of how strong my feelings were. I didn’t want to turn into some mushy, cheesy wannabe romantic. Then I started coming to terms with it and wanted everyone to know I was in love with you.”

  “Are you serious?” I said, annoyed yet entertained by what he was telling me. Once upon a time, in spring, I would’ve been overjoyed. But it was the last week of August now. We hadn’t exchanged a word since the day we met at Three Pancakes.

  “I’m dead serious, Dana,” he replied, clutching my hand.

  I brushed his hand off. “Joon, the ship has sailed. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be in a relationship with you. Let me give you a word of advice. The next time you’re into someone and people tell you that the two of you look cute together, don’t go on about how you’re strictly friends. Give them a smile and thank them. Oh, and there’s a happy medium between telling everyone you’re madly in love with a girl in great detail and inviting said girl to a concert where you throw your shirt off, then announce that you’re single.”

  Although I still enjoyed going to parties, during that summer, I learned to appreciate solitude. To be honest, I would’ve preferred to be heartbroken over Gusun in the presence of a close friend, but Yumi and Stella were both too busy to hang out with me on a daily basis. I began spending more time on my own because my pain had to be kept a secret from the rest of the world. Besides, I wasn’t interested in any other guys. Whenever Yumi and I went to a bar and a guy attempted to flirt with me, I tried to develop interest and focus on what might be considered his best features, but the entire experience left me feeling hollow. Afterward, I wondered if there was no more romance in store for me. Perhaps my time with Gusun had been my last chance to fall in love.

  A couple of hours after I bumped into Joon, I sat alone in my room and watched the sunset through the window. I thought about what happened with him when we met at the university gift shop. Even though I had been rather harsh, he’d eventually nodded and acknowledged the mistakes he made. However, he didn’t outright apologize. Frankly, I’d begun to loathe his inability to say sorry.

  Once darkness flooded in through the window, I went to the fridge to grab some beer. When I returned to my room, I turned on the light and tore a bag of chips open. As I finished my second can of beer and reached out to pop a third can, I suddenly broke into sobs. Gusun was on my mind again. I thought of how he’d played the keyboard while singing to me in his soft, husky voice. Although I turned my head away whenever I saw photos of him out in public, I could still remember every little detail on his face: from the way his mysterious dark eyes glimmered to the single freckle on his handsome nose. I went through the top drawer of my desk, where I stored my Cartier ring case, and took out the gold panther ring he’d given me. The instant I put it on, I imagined being with him in his car again.

  By the time I had three cans of beer in me, I was no longer thinking straight. I couldn’t meet Gusun, but I could at least call him. Although I didn’t hesitate to dial his number, I was trembling while I waited for him to pick up. I wasn’t sure what to tell him.

  “Hello? Gusun?” I cried out as soon as I heard a click at the other end of the line.

  “Excuse me?” a woman said while a baby cried in the background.

  “Gusun?” I repeated.

  The woman sighed wearily. “No, I’m afraid you have the wrong number.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled and promptly hung up.

  My body went limp. There was no way for me to ever talk to Gusun again. I was able to hold back from calling him for a month and a half because I couldn’t bear to lose the last glimpse of hope I had. Though I was fully aware of him having to change his number for privacy reasons, I’d wanted to believe I had the possibility of contacting him one day. When I saw the ring on my finger, I slipped it off immediately. I couldn’t stand how it reminded me of him. In my drunk and distraught state, I opened the window and flung the ring out. Although I couldn’t tell where it landed, I presumed it fell into a bush.

  A while later, when I stopped munching on chips because my tongue was beginning to sting and burn, I realized I’d made a big mistake. I bolted out of my suite and went down the elevator to the first floor with tears streaming down my face. Once I frantically made my way to the brick path that was just out the window from my room, I turned on the flashlight on my phone and searched through the bushes.

  While I was on my knees with bark scratching against my shins, a man called out, “Dana? Oh, wow, it is you. How are you?”

  When I glanced behind me, I saw Kisoo, a friend of mine from freshman year. Yumi and I had met him in a freshman writing course that was part of the West Seoul University common curriculum. Although we used to meet up with him for drinks from time to time, we barely spoke to
each other these days. Frankly, I was the one to blame. I’d been incredibly slow at responding to his messages ever since I fell in love with Gusun.

  “What are you doing over there?” Kisoo asked, coming over to me. “Have you been crying? Are you alright?”

  “Kisoo, you have to help me,” I sobbed. “I need to find a special ring.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Summer, Five Years Later

  “Excuse me, Miss Day?”

  I glanced up from my computer monitor and replied, “Yes, boss. Is there a problem?”

  Ms. Park, my middle-aged boss who wore colorful pantsuits and knew trendy acronyms better than me, explained, “Mr. Kim was breaking into hives and throwing up shortly after lunch. He looked so sickly. I think he might’ve been allergic to something in the stew we had.”

  “Oh dear, I hope he’s okay,” I said.

  “Since he’s gone to the hospital, I need someone else to cover for the interview he was supposed to conduct at half past four. Now, I know you specialize in writing articles and reviews on hip-hop, but you also happen to be our best interviewer. You know that, don’t you?”

  I smiled politely. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Believe me, nobody does impromptu interviews as well as you. The video of you conducting interviews at the South Korean Trot Music Festival went viral. We received ten million views, Miss Day—ten million views for an interview with old-school trot singers which you prepared for last-minute. You’re incredible.”

  As Ms. Park and I laughed, she put her hand on my shoulder. A gesture to remind me I was one of her favorites at Another Song, the digital media outlet that she’d founded. I instantly knew I would have to comply; she was going to get what she wanted.

  Ms. Park continued. “Ideally, Mr. Kim would postpone the interview. He’s the expert on boy groups and girl groups, but this interview was so difficult to arrange we need to hold it today. Anyway, could you please hold off everything you were supposed to do for the rest of the day and get ready for the interview with Undone? We don’t have a lot of time before they get here.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Undone?”

  “Yes, the one and only Undone,” Ms. Park said, beaming with pride. “We were able to secure an interview with them to discuss their recent album, which is supposedly their last album before they disband.”

  “Alright. I’ll begin preparing right away.” I nodded tensely, knowing I couldn’t possibly tell Ms. Park I felt uncomfortable interviewing Undone because the most popular member happened to be my ex-boyfriend.

  Gusun, known to the public as Sun, was the man who should’ve been an exciting summer fling, a household name I could have brag about for having dated briefly, but left me feeling completely shattered. Even after five years, during which I graduated college, started working at Another Song, and went on numerous first dates, as well as a handful of second dates, I was unable to piece myself together. Despite having broken off our relationship, I never stopped loving him. In a parallel universe where we weren’t constantly being followed by questionable tabloids and judged by his most rabid fans, we were still madly in love with a lifetime of happiness ahead of us.

  Once I met the five members of Undone, I couldn’t help but stare at Gusun. Though he hadn’t changed drastically, his boyish good looks had been replaced with a more masculine aura. His jawline was sharper than I remembered, while his shoulders had gotten even broader. When I looked into his eyes, memories flooded my mind. Those mesmerizing dark eyes were just as beautiful as when I first peered into them, sparkling in a way that no high-resolution photo or video ever seemed to quite capture.

  Although his eyes grew round for a second, he kept a composed smile on his face for the rest of the interview. Since he was courteous but guarded, treating me like any other interviewer he’d met for the first time, I wondered if he’d somehow managed to erase me from his memories entirely.

  I tried to keep my gaze on the other four members as I said, “Your group has received immense praise for the way your music has matured stylistically. Both fans and critics believe your music has successfully evolved to stay fresh and relevant because of your willingness to dabble in new genres. Do the five of you agree with this? Also, which genres are your personal favorites these days?”

  Noah, the suave and sharp leader of Undone, replied, “First off, we’re extremely grateful for our long-time fans who have been open-minded about us experimenting with each album. A few years following our debut, we decided to experiment with R&B. The response was very positive, which was incredibly affirming. From then on, we knew we would never create two albums which are stylistically indistinct from one another. Personally, I would rather be strange than uninspired. To answer your second question, I still have a soft spot for R&B.”

  “Yeah, I’d say R&B remains my favorite genre too,” Gusun said in agreement.

  “I loved collaborating with a bunch of American dream pop bands last year,” Aaron chimed in, grinning. At only twenty-three years old, he was the youngest member, internationally beloved for his perpetually jovial manner and impressive eight-pack abs.

  “I see. Has there been a shift in the dynamic among the five of you as well?” I asked. “Because you’ve been working together for almost eight years now. All five of you seem more deeply involved in the process of songwriting, choreographing, and producing these days.”

  Zac, the main dancer and also a choreographer for the group, explained, “We’re lucky because we’ve stayed a team, first and foremost. We each take the lead at different times. I don’t contribute to the songwriting process, but I still contribute to establishing the direction of each album by creating our choreography. Besides, I’ve never felt like anyone was gaining too much control because we communicate our concerns to one another on a regular basis.”

  Woori, who was known for his bold and quirky fashion choices, evident by the pink suede jacket he was wearing with a cowboy hat, added, “Even though we’ll be disbanding to continue with the next chapter of our lives, we’re all on great terms and would be more than happy to collaborate on future projects.”

  “I wouldn’t say there have been any major changes, although Sun has become the unofficial prince of our agency due to the success of his solo career,” Aaron joked.

  I laughed along with the five members. After Gusun’s first solo single, which came out nearly five years ago, he’d established himself as a talented singer-songwriter. Interestingly, “What Did He Give,” the song he sang to me privately while working on his first single, was overshadowed by the title track, “Our Love.” Although I thought “What Did He Give” was a better song, I was relieved to hear “Our Love” blasted everywhere instead. The tune of “What Did He Give” was too painful for me to listen to, as it reminded me of how Gusun and I used to hum the chorus to each other.

  Had I been a more professional and devoted interviewer, I would’ve tossed my emotions aside for a moment to ask Gusun about his solo career and future plans. However, I didn’t say anything; I didn’t think I could keep a straight face. For the rest of the interview, I grew quite fond of the other four members. They were just as charming as Gusun once told me. I was thankful for how talkative and engaged they were. While I conducted the interview, I simply didn’t have a spare moment to dwell on how I felt about seeing Gusun again.

  Once the interview was over and the members of Undone had left, I tried to process what had happened. I couldn’t believe how anticlimactic the situation turned out to be. For five years, I’d been feeling broken as I struggled to develop feelings for anyone. Meanwhile, to Gusun, I’d been nothing but a fleeting fling. My heart ached as I thought of how nonchalant he’d been. Embarrassingly, I had developed a terrible habit of keeping up with headlines featuring his name. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he might be spotted snuggling with another woman or, worse, when he’d eventually publicize a secret relationship to announce his engagement. Though I used to comfort myself with his lack of dating
rumors, I realized it didn’t matter whether he had a girlfriend or not. Either way, he probably considered our relationship meaningless and forgettable.

  After work, I went to a bistro in Cheongdam to catch up with Yumi. She was one of the only people from college I kept in touch with regularly. We often joked that we would find a way to update each other on our lives even if I moved to Mercury and she went to Neptune. These days, she told me about the stress of planning a wedding.

  “I can’t believe you’re marrying your college sweetheart,” I mentioned before putting a canapé in my mouth.

  Yumi chuckled. “So weird, right? Before I met him, I didn’t think I’d ever find a guy worth being in a long-term relationship with.”

  “Then came one magical autumn,” I said in a dramatic voice.

  “Oh stop.” Yumi slapped my wrist.

  “You’re going to be the most gorgeous autumn bride,” I murmured wistfully as I glanced at her huge diamond engagement ring.

  “Dana, you better not cry when you see me walk down the aisle,” she warned me and poured herself another glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

  I smiled. “You know I’ll be turning on the waterworks.”

  As we clinked our glasses together, she added, “If you cry, I’m going to burst into tears too. Frankly, I’ve been turning into a major softie lately. Despite being overwhelmed with so many tasks, I’m just so happy. I can’t believe everything in my life is working out wonderfully. I get emotional when I think about how lucky I am.”

  After taking a sip of wine, I assured her, “Yumi, you deserve it.”