Mayhem’s called a taxi for me.
BY THE TIME I REACH the apartment, I run for the comforts of my bedroom. I want to be alone with my thoughts. I am in too much of a hurry to notice that Eunhye is pacing back and forth in her room.
“I will try, but I’m not making promises. Remember, you promised me that you’d let me handle the situation. She’s not ready. If only you could see her now. She’s active. She’s working and making friends. I don’t want to disrupt what she has going now. Now is not a good time.” Eunhye’s hands are in her hair. Although my mother’s back is facing me, I can hear the anxiety and exasperation in her voice.
Eunhye lets out a deep sigh as she listens to the response on the other side of the phone line. “Sure, I can make the arrangements for you. I will do my best this year to make sure she comes. Yes.” Eunhye pauses yet again to continue packing her overnight hospital bag.
I stand in the gap of the door listening to her conversation. A chill comes over me when I recognize the tone–the only kind of tone Eunhye has when she is speaking to him.
“Eunhye, who are you talking to?” I never call Eunhye by her first name–at least not to her face. I am still reeling from what just happened and this puts the icing on the cake. I don’t care anymore. Throw everything you have at me karma! My intuition is wearing her safety helmet. My conscience is swinging her bat.
“Oh, you’re home!” Forgetting that she is on the phone, Eunhye quickly hangs up. Eunhye places a hand over her chest in surprise, but she forces a smile. “Where have you been? You took off right after lunch. Actually, you ran off.”
“I forgot I had to do something with Lina,” I lie. My eyes scan her face as though I can catch the deception.
“You could’ve said goodbye. Jaewon was quite hurt.” Eunhye is doing her best to deflect from the actual topic. She frowns at my facial expression.
“I’m sure he’ll live.” I am cold and unreasonable right now.
Eunhye places a hand on her hips. “What is going on with you? You were very rude at lunch. Then you took off and ignored my phone calls. Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you. Who were you talking to?” I casually ask. I ignore Eunhye’s sensitive question.
“Someone from work,” Eunhye lies. Through her teeth, she is lying to me.
“Oh.” If Eunhye wants to lie to me, I will let her. From now on, if anyone wants to lie to me, they can. I don’t care anymore. I don’t want the truth to disappoint me anymore.
“May.” Eunhye closes her eyes and sighs in frustration. “The end of the month is coming–you know that right? You know what that date means for our family.”
Stunned by Eunhye’s reminder, I feel hurt and on the verge of bawling from the stress. First Sangwoo, Mayhem, and now her. “Eunhye, I don’t want to talk about that.” I do my best to keep my voice from shaking.
Eunhye remains motionless at my disapproval. Slowly, her shock displays itself. “May, it’s something that we need to talk about.”
“Can we talk about it later?” I do my best to keep the anguish in my voice controlled. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to avoid it as long as I can. I cannot handle another blow right now.
The crestfallen look on Eunhye’s face evokes guilt in me. “May,” Eunhye starts to say.
“I’m not feeling very well.” I have to pull out the sick card. Perhaps my gaunt facial expression is the decision maker.
Eunhye looks as though she wants to say something else, but her cell phone rings again.
He’s calling her back, my intuition says sadly. I don’t need to hear his voice; I remember it clearly. I give Eunhye one last look before I head to my bedroom. A wave of emotion comes over me. The heavy feeling in my heart is difficult to overcome. Eunhye and I have a relationship that is not easy to explain. Our relationship is usually not this tense, but whenever it comes to this time of year the space between us is very clear. How can I not remember?
I allow for the darkness of my room to consume me. No dinner. No human needs. Nothing and no one. For the second night in a row, I cry myself to sleep. I let my emotions ride on my tear ducts. I cry for all the memories and the pain. It is metaphysical at this point.
SHE COMES TOWARDS ME SLOWLY. I reach out to her and let out an animalistic cry. “Shh, don’t cry.” She wraps me tightly in her arms. Her hands run through my hair in an endearing manner. I continue to sob, weeping uncontrollably for the sister that I never got a chance to know. Misun.
MY EYES ARE HEAVY. I open them for a fraction of a second to see Eunhye kissing my forehead softly. “I love you baby. I wish I can make things right for you.” The darkness and the heavy lull of sleep consume me. The pain rolls in another set of waves.
MONDAY MORNING IS BLEAK AND gloomy. I wake up under a cloud of darkness and morbid thoughts. I toss and turn in bed buying time and trading senseless thoughts.
The first thing I think about is–because of circumstances, I am no longer waitressing at The Trax. Because of coercion, I am no longer working at Sansachun either. I am jobless and am an emotional wreck. I conduct a mental countdown only to realize I have two months left before school starts again. Thoughts about my responsibilities and school distract the reality of Choi Sangwoo, Dead Girl, and Mayhem. I think about my savings, my goals, and my possible future. I want to graduate and help others. But this can only happen if I abandon the dangerous and treacherous path these gang leaders are luring me down.
Choi Sangwoo’s pursuit seems innocent on the outside, but his true intentions are malevolent. It is no longer sweet and innocent. Slowly, it is becoming dark and tainted. Sangwoo wants to shape me into someone I can never be. Especially after last night, I don’t know if I can trust him. I am the flesh and bone of the person in his memories. To him, I am Dead Girl. Nothing is more painful than that realization. Now that I know why he’s chasing me, I don’t know whether to feel relieved or restrained.
I listen to Eunhye bustling outside of my bedroom as she gets ready for work. Before she leaves, Eunhye checks up on me. I close my eyes and pretend to be sleeping. She lingers in the doorway for a few seconds before leaving.
I lay in bed for another hour before I have the strength to force myself out of bed. I take a long, drowning shower. I am heavy and intoxicated with emotions, but life must go on. I cannot be a victim of someone’s ill intentions. I resolve to be strong and resilient.
After I am dressed and done with my morning coffee, I check my phone to see the missed calls and messages. I have been avoiding the machine in hopes of a speedy recovery.
“Come out with me.” I stare at Lina’s simple text message. Next to Lina’s text message bubble is Choi Sangwoo’s number. I have six missed calls from him, including a handful of text messages. I want to see you, he says. It’s important, he writes.
MULA IS A POPULAR PLACE not only because it serves just about a million different types of milk tea, but also because it houses a large flat screen in the center of its main room. Large windows line every wall, creating a bright atmosphere. Every other weekend, Mula has a movie day where they show the latest blockbuster movie. This attracts a lot of business, a genius-marketing move. This weekend’s movie theme is horror. Large crowds of people are already here for the presentation. Tables and chairs are scarce, so people made sofas with cushioned pillows on the floor.
When I first arrive, it takes me a while to find my cousin in the crowd. Lina is sitting with a number of friends on the packed floor. She’s in a blue beanbag near the center of the room.
“Lina,” I call to my cousin.
“Yah. Shut up. He’s about to chop that guy’s head off,” nags a person in the audience.
“I’m sorry.” I do my best to duck under the screen.
“Come on.” Lina jumps out of her seat and takes my hand.
Momentarily, I look back at the movie. The music is starting to escalate, noting the suspenseful part is coming up.
“Grrr . . . I’m going to find you,” the murderer
taunts. He is walking down the dark, narrow hallway looking for his victim. He stops in front of a bland door. The camera pans into the next room to reveal the frightened little girl. She hears him breathing outside, but she still doesn’t move.
“Run!”
“You’re going to die!”
“Don’t be stupid!”
“Run!”
Various shouts and encouragements bombard the screen. A few people laugh. Horror movies are so predictable. There’s always someone foolish enough to investigate the unknown noises.
Lina tugs at my arm and we head away from the crowd. Instead of going to the counter for a drink, we duck into the hallway where the soda machines are.
“What’s going on?” Lina asks me. Her eyes are perplexed. I don’t know how else to tell my cousin what is going on. My responding text message has alerted Lina.
“I can’t do this with him.” The truth rushes from my mouth. I need to vent and ruminate. “Choi Sangwoo. I can’t continue to see him.”
Lina stares at me with confusion and shock. “What are you talking about May? What happened?”
“Misun,” her name slips out of my mouth. “Lina. He . . . Sangwoo has pictures of her with him. They were together.” The words are stuck in my throat. I am not sure if I am shaking from the painful memory or the confession.
Lina’s eyes enlarge. She places a hand on her mouth. Tugging at my arm, my cousin pulls me against the wall. Her voice trembles. “Are you sure?”
I nod my head. “It makes so much sense now why he’s chasing me.”
My cousin can hardly believe it. “Okay. We’ll figure something out.” Lina reels from the news. She examines my face. “You do look like her . . . when she was this age.”
I close my eyes; I refuse to listen to Lina reminisce. “I didn’t come here for that Lina. I need you to help me figure out how to get rid of him. I really need to do this.”
Lina nods her head slowly. “We’ll talk about this later.” Then, she changes her mind. “Actually, give me a second while I let my friends know I’m leaving.”
I nod in return. Good. I will have her by my side to digest all this. They always say breakups are hard to do and you can’t do it alone. My intuition purses her lips.
Waiting anxiously, I watch Lina retreat to the main room. I’m too engrossed to notice that I am not alone. Suddenly, I feel his presence.
“I hear the new Pepsi Vanilla is good.” Leaning against the wall as though he owns the building, Choi Sangwoo’s smoldering gaze renders me just as speechless as his surprise appearance. He is dressed down in a navy blue sweatshirt over dark jeans. The conventional CEO gang leader is currently replaced by this down-to-earth man.
Stalker! my intuition hisses. She recoils from his intense gaze.
“Sangwoo.” Surprise colors my tone. How did he know I was going to be here? “What are you doing here?”
“Just catching the movie.” Sangwoo nonchalantly leans against the soda machine. He surveys my facial expression with great interest. When I don’t relent, Sangwoo admits, “I called you several times and left you messages. I was worried something happened to you last night. I had Ren track you down. I’m sorry if I’m being overwhelming. I just worry about your safety.”
I am breathless at his admittance. Not only is he keeping a close tab on me, but Sangwoo also has the ability to turn it into something of good intentions. I am dealing with a very dangerous man. Admitting defeat, I turn back to the soda machine to avoid his intense eyes. I extract some change out of my pocket and make a scene of putting them into the coin slot.
Sangwoo watches me with a guarded expression. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. Thank you for taking care of me, again.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him shortly. I busy myself with selecting the new Pepsi Vanilla can. When the can clatters down the machine, Sangwoo retrieves it for me. “Thank you,” I mumble.
“If I said anything that wasn’t right, I’m sorry.” Sangwoo watches my every move. “I’m an idiot when I drink. Of course you already know this.”
I flush at the thought of how we met. I hold the cold soda in my hands as I try to smile naturally at him. “It’s ok. You’re going through a lot. Besides, I forgot most of the stuff you said anyway,” I lie to him.
“Really? Well, I hope you didn’t forget what I said about liking you,” Sangwoo replies, leaning closer. “Because I remember clearly saying that.”
I can only stare at Choi Sangwoo. No boy has ever outwardly confessed to me. It is the strangest sensation ever. And it scares me half-to-death. “You really mean that?”
Sangwoo smiles. He enjoys the drained look on my face. “What are you surprised for?”
Because you’re obsessed with Misun and you want me to replace her, my intuition snaps. I attempt to play it off with a laugh. We both know the true reason why he’s attracted to me, but we are playing this constant game of guesses. “Are you sure you got all that alcohol out of your system?” I attempt to ease my passive-aggressiveness with him.
“I have.” He gives me an intense look. Sangwoo shifts on his own two feet and composes himself. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
I glance back at Mula. My search for Lina is useless. My cousin is lost in the sea of people.
“Spend some time with my cousin,” I tell Sangwoo.
“I thought you spent some time with her yesterday already.” Sangwoo’s gang leader complex is evident in his tone. “Can I borrow you for the afternoon?”
What world did he come from? Who says things like that? “Sangwoo,” I begin to articulate myself. How do I tell him I need some time and distance from his intense concentration on me? I don’t want to spend more time with him. How do I tell him I know the truth? One look into Sangwoo’s intense stare and I know I can’t yet. I need one final confirmation.
I must look like a lost puppy because Sangwoo stares at me with apprehension. I hope it’s not another funeral crashing moment. I want to ask him if it is, but I am well aware of the fact that I don’t know Sangwoo’s personality the way I should.
“I can spare a couple of hours.” It feels like I am admitting defeat. I don’t know how else to communicate with this gang leader. No! You need to get away from him! my intuition snarls. He’s trying to salvage this non-existent relationship and garner your pity! This is his last ditch effort!
“I’ll only take a few hours of your time.” Sangwoo reaches down for my hand.
The simple impact of his palm against mine causes me to gasp. His name, his face, and his actions transport me to my memories. All over again, I hear the voice, “His name is Choi Sangwoo! I’m in love.” I launch into a vortex of memories, spinning until I am dizzy.
I open my eyes to see Choi Sangwoo’s eyes peering inquisitively into mine. “May?”
“Sorry?” I stare up at him.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yes.”
“Ok. Let’s go.” Sangwoo motions toward the door. Sangwoo has a complex look on his face as if he is deciding what to do with me. Making up his mind, Sangwoo places an arm around me, drawing me closer to him. His touch makes me forget my senses. “We’re going to have a good day today. Trust me.”
I trust you like I would trust playing Russian Roulette. My intuition is bitter. I’ve betrayed her.
There is an internal war going on in me. Maybe it is because I am convinced that no matter what kind of fairytale day Sangwoo has up his sleeve I will not fall for it. Maybe it is because I want to see who Choi Sangwoo is. Maybe it is because of an unspoken reason that draws me to him . . . .
I stop by the front entrance to tell Lina I have to go. She is speechless when she sees who is in my company. Her gaze lingers on Sangwoo, guarded and suspicious. “Are you sure?” My cousin asks me in a whisper.
I nod my head. From our distance, I glance back to see Sangwoo staring at us with an impenetrable gaze. I promise to call Lina later. My cousin holds onto my arm a little
too long before she finally relents. She makes me promise again before she finally lets me go. Lina disapproves, I know.
I follow Sangwoo out of Mula to the awaiting car–yet another black-on-black Mercedes E-class. What are you doing May? My intuition is not happy when I get into the car. Sangwoo starts the engine and an energetic trance beat invades the quiet space. The dark windows are up, but a gentle mist paces the car.
“Where are we going?” I hold my breath at his answer.
“A place for you to get to know me,” is Sangwoo’s short reply.
I stiffen in my seat at his unexpected response. I wonder where this place could be. I have to remind myself that I am not sitting in this car as Sangwoo’s girlfriend. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a real boyfriend, so maybe I’m all wrong for thinking his intentions are romantic. Sangwoo’s mentioned before that he wants me by his side, but he never said anything about a girlfriend. Now, I am all discombobulated.
Maybe I don’t know what to do when someone is showing interest in me. Sure, you can count Jun in the fourth grade when he knocked that dodge ball into my head to ask me out. Then, there was Bon in the fifth grade who cut a lock of my hair as a courtship ritual followed by the men in his household. But none of them have wanted me, pursued me, and chased me the way Choi Sangwoo does.
“WE’RE HERE,” SANGWOO ANNOUNCES AFTER the half-an-hour drive. The car slows down in the parking lot of Bae Scenic Park, a private park with its own-gated entrance. Sangwoo turns off the engine of the car. We sit in the car for a moment, staring at the scenery. Bae is Seoul’s most popular park because it’s reminiscent of a portrait. Deep brown mountains surround the area along with a lively lake–mild slopes drop into massive areas of green grass.
“We’re having a picnic here?” I ask as Sangwoo when we get out of the car.
April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions Page 37