Chapter 2

July 2012

I lived quite an ordinary life. Almost boring, even. My day was either productive or not. And in between, there were those days when everything just stopped making sense.

Things like the fact that it was July yet the weather forced me to put on my hideous sweater which I initially thought wouldn’t make an appearance until at least October. Or the fact that it was the one week mark of me ditching classes, even though I was the one who insisted to my parents that I must take this major. Or things like how I just couldn’t get his hair right no matter how many times I redid it; the repeated erasing formed an ugly grey smudge on the otherwise white paper.

With a heavy sigh, I closed my sketchbook roughly and shoved my pencil in my bag. I leaned my body backwards until my back hit the prickly grass, squinting my eyes at the clear, vast landscape of the sky. Look at how wide it was. There seemed to be no dead-ends. It just went on and on... boundless. Underneath this very sky, lived billions of people. And yet...

“Just where the hell are you?” I mumbled to myself.

“I’m right here,” A familiar voice suddenly said, as a pair of hands snatched the sketchbook lying on my stomach.

“Damn it!” I sat up straight, turning my head around. “Kang Minhyuk, you bastard!”

Minhyuk hovered above me, casting protective shadow against the sun rays. “Sorry, you just seemed so out of it.” He opened my sketchbook to the last page. I made a frantic move to snatch it back, but, always having better reflex than me, he had already raised the book above his head, way out of my reach.

Well, whatever, then. 

Upon seeing what was on the page, Minhyuk shook his head, making a tutting sound. “You’ve really got it bad, huh.”

I groaned in mortification, taking my skecthbook back. “I know. Shut up.”

Minhyuk wordlessly lied down beside me on the grass, putting his arms behind his head as a make-shift pillow. “Well, that’s a good drawing.”

I closed my eyes. The sun was blinding me. “It’s not. The hair is all messed up.”

“It looks fine to me, though.”

“You’re my number one fan, of course whatever I draw would look just fine to you.”

I could imagine him rolling his eyes.

We didn’t say anything for several moments, basking in the warmth that the sun provided, until Minhyuk glanced sideways at me and asked, “Shinhye, don’t you have class?”

“I do. I’m just not in the mood.”

Minhyuk sighed. “Why do you come to the campus, then?”

I opened my eyes. The sun assaulted my retinas right away. “My mom would ask questions if I stayed at home,” I said, sitting up again to avoid the direct sunlight.

“I see.” Minhyuk sat up, too. “So... are you just going to stay here and finish that drawing?”

I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on both knees. Suddenly feeling drained, I stared morosely at my sketchbook lying innocently on the grass. “Pathetic, right?”

“No. I told you, it’s a fantastic drawing. He’d love it.”

I smiled appreciatively. “You’re being too kind.”

“I’m kind, not a liar. Just show it to him when it’s done. He’d pay you.”

“Are you kidding? I’d never show it to him.”

“Why not?”

I stared at Minhyuk as if he’d grown another head. “Besides the fact that he has found his soulmate?”

“Yeah.”

“Because it’s creepy as .” I huffed in frustration. “He’d be wondering why I bother to spend hours drawing his face, with detailed shadings at that, when it’s not even a class project. I’m not in the Arts major, remember?”

Minhyuk nodded solemnly. “A fact that I still have a hard time making sense of. Why the hell are you not taking Arts?”

“Minhyuk...” I started warningly.

“No, seriously.” Minhyuk picked up my sketchbook, flipped it randomly and stopped at a page containing a rough sketch of a street musician I happened to see the other day on my way back home. “Just look at this. This one looked as if you did it with your eyes blindfolded and it’s still amazing.”

“You’re only saying that because we’ve been friends since we were toddler.”

“Even the more reason that you should trust me more than anyone else.” Minhyuk massaged his temples. “We are so over the stage where basic courtesy matters between us.”

I didn’t say anything, because he’d got some point there. “Come on,” He said, “Will you at least tell me why? You had enrolled to study Arts but then in the last minute you changed it to Journalism. I’d never even heard you express the slightest interest in it before!”

My shoulders slumped. This kind of talk always depressed me. The kind of talk where I didn’t know what to say. “You know I always love writing,” I argued weakly.

“But you don’t care about the news.”

“I don’t,” I agreed with voice so small.

Within my peripheral vision, I saw Minhyuk open his mouth only to close it again. He aggresively ran a hand through his hair. “Shinhye, I know you, okay? I know the thing you do best is being such a pain.” We both laughed at that. He continued, “but I also know that you can be so, so many things. Look at yourself; you draw, you play guitar, and your singing voice is not that bad, contrary to what you believe. And...” Minhyuk suddenly fidgeted. “I’ve... read some of your poetry, you know, back in high school.” I widened my eyes, feeling betrayed. “Well, sorry! You left your notebook open that one time. It wasn’t my fault! Anyway, it was damn good. I didn’t understand what it was truly about, but you have a wicked way with words, you know? And you can dance. You’re, like, professional-level-kind-of-dancer. You’re also fluent in Japanese. I can go on and on with the list. Seriously, what can’t you do?”

“You’re exaggerating,” I said, thumbing the calloused tip of my left index finger. “Maybe I can do those things you mentioned, but it doesn’t mean I’m good at them, you know?”

Minhyuk looked at me agape for several moments, before he groaned as if in pain, palming his face. “I am so done with you. Do whatever you want.” He uncovered his face, and then linked an arm around my shoulder. “You’re an idiot. But I still love you.”

I leaned into his chest. “I love you, too.”

Minhyuk was one of those lucky people who found his soulmate early. Soojung and him met years ago when they were sixteen. Surprisingly, it didn’t change anything between the two of us. We still got to spend time together and visit each others’ homes, even saying ‘I love you’s to one another like this. Again, maybe that was one of the many perks of having soulmates: all that special unbreakable bond that left no room for doubts and insecurity. I sounded jealous, but no. I was too glad and relieved to be jealous. At least I still had my best friend.

Minhyuk nudged my ribs. “So, any update on him?”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I answered, “Jung Yonghwa?”

Minhyuk nodded.

“Nothing much. Still busy, still handsome, still happily with Seohyun.”

“Busy?”

I was thankful that he didn’t tackle the Seohyun part. In my current mood, I had no strength to talk about her and further push my self-esteem to even lower point. “Yup, he’s always busy. Running the club, attending classes and I don’t know what else.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Moreover, September is coming. We’ve been preparing to perform on New Student Orientation day.”

“Will you perform, too?”

“No way, it’s still too early for me. I’m in charge of the decoration.” I packed the skecthbook into my sling bag. “Well, at least it’s a valid reason for me to go to campus.”

When I stepped in the club’s headquarter, the first thing I noticed was Yonghwa, playing his acoustic guitar and singing on the wooden round stage that was always there in front of the room. He seemed to be rehearsing for the Orientation day.

Without a mic, his voice sounded even more raw and unhibited. Unfiltered. The rest of the members there didn’t even pay him full attention, being occupied with their own duties. It suited me just fine. I could keep watching him as openly as I wanted to.

He didn’t even have real audience at the moment, but he seemed lost in his own music, smiling in pure bliss as he dredged out note by note from his lung. I stood there at the doorway, staring at him with a fixed gaze, slack-jawed.

When I first told Minhyuk about my ridiculous crush on Yonghwa, he’d tried his best to put things into perspective for my sake. He said I was just projecting my obsession. He pointed to the four walls that made up my bedroom, to the posters and my own paintings of my favorite men; each of them either had a mic in front of their mouth, or a guitar on their lap, or both. Some were alive, some were long dead. Minhyuk said I had a thing for music men. I didn’t quite know what he truly meant, but I was too depressed to let him venture into deep psychoanalysis about me. He was a Psychology major. Everything he said might have some merit in it, so I just wanted to be careful and not let the curiosity kill me, just in case I didn’t like to hear the truth.

Maybe Minhyuk was right all along. I didn’t like Yonghwa, after all, but I fell for the musician in him. It was enough of a reassurance for me to make a resolve to snap out of it and do my duty.

About two hours later, I was so focused painting the tent that would be our booth this year, the brush delicately on the tent canvas, that I didn’t notice Yonghwa had done practicing for quite some time and was doing his rounds checking on the members.

“Whoa, that’s really good.”

I urgently halted my brush a few milimeters above the canvas. Thank God I made it in time.

“, sorry, did I startle you?”

“A bit, yeah,” I said, trying to ignore my clammy hands and continue painting.

Yonghwa apologized again, and turned his attention to the unfinished painting. “That’s an impressive EVH Wolfgang Black,” he observed. “You like that guitar?”

I sighed dreamily. “Yes. But that’s not why I paint it. I mean, yes, partly because I love it, but it’s also the easiest one to paint.”

Glancing sideways, I saw Yonghwa smirking at me. “I’ll just let you know that I have that guitar at home.”

“No!” I almost whined, putting the brush down. “Why? God, I’m so jealous!”

He had the gall to laugh at me. “Tough world.”

I continued painting with him sitting beside me. I tried not to let his presence affect me so much. I wouldn’t let him distract me from my painting, but instead, I’d use painting as a distraction from him.

“So, Shinhye,” Yonghwa said after several moments of silence.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

I dropped my brush into a glass of water to wash it. And also to stall the time. That kind of question always unsettled me. “Why do you ask?”

“Well...” Yonghwa darted his eyes away. “Seohyun might have mentioned that you haven’t been attending Politics classes, and she wondered why.” I looked at him in confusion. Why didn’t she ask me herself?

As if reading my mind, he quickly added, “You see, she doesn’t have your number and since we’re in the same club she was asking whether I knew what happened to you...”

It was rather cute that the ever-confident Yonghwa was reduced to a rambling mess just to justify his sweetheart’s action. Please note the sarcasm. I nodded stiffly. “There you go, she’s right. Not just Politics, though. More like... all of them.”

To my immense relief, Yonghwa didn’t ask me to elaborate. I wouldn’t know how to answer if he did. Instead, he opted to make himself more comfortable on the tiled floor, watching as I made further progress on the painting.

“Hey,” He said later, as my brush did the finishing touch. “Do you want to get lost? You can tell me all about it.”

I looked around the wide room. It was bustling with the noises of everyone packing up, having done with their work for the day and ready to go. I didn’t want to go home just yet. I had nothing productive to do in there, and it would only call for destructive thoughts. Getting lost at that moment seemed to be the perfect thing to do. I nodded weakly, letting Yonghwa lead me to I didn’t know where.

We took the familiar route to the wide yard in the back of the campus’ main building. In the very middle of it, stood a lit up stage, about 30 meters long and 1 meter high. The outlines were already done. It seemed to me that it only needed to be covered with polished boards.

“Hey, Joon! How’s it going?” Yonghwa said as we reached the stage’s stairs.

“Yonghwa!” A man on the stage approached us. I didn’t even notice him until now. Seemed like he was the only person here before we came. “What are you doing here? Checking out the venue?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Yonghwa touched my shoulder briefly. “Meet my friend, Shinhye. Shinhye, this is Lee Joon, he’s in my year. Different major.”

“Hello, sunbae.” I bowed my head.

“Hi, there. No need to be so formal. Nice to meet you,” Joon said, grinning. He seemed to be the kind of person who'd look like smiling even though he wasn’t.

“Why are you the only one here?” Yonghwa checked his watch. “It’s 9 PM already.”

“I’m just checking the lighting before I head home. You guys wanna hangout here?”

“Yeah, if we’re allowed.”

Joon left us alone after he made Yonghwa promise that he'd plug out the power source before we had to go. Yonghwa climbed the short stairs, and lied down on the stage with his arms behind his head. He looked sideways at me, silently suggesting that I should follow his example. And I did. Except, the lighting sort of hurt my eyes, so I sat up instead.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know...” I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt. Inwardly, I wrecked my brain trying to come up with theories as to why Yongwha was doing this; being nice to me. I wondered whether I should just ask him. Wondering if the moment would be ruined if I did. But were we even having a moment here? Maybe he was always nice to everyone. I didn’t even know him that well. “I have no idea where to start, honestly.”

“How about you tell me why you’ve been ditching all your classes?”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Why do you want to know?”

Yonghwa wordlessly sat up. “Because I care about you, obviously.” Before I could entertain the thought that maybe I had hope, he squashed it by saying his next words. “I might not look like it, but I take care of people. I take care of my members. And besides...” He crossed his legs, looking up to the bright lamps. “If you get three E’s by the end of the semester, you’d have to halt any extracurricular activity. You won’t be able to join us anymore. I don’t want that to happen.”

Ah. An imaginative bulb lit up in my head. So he was just naturally nice to everyone. “Well... the short version is... I find the classes pointless.”

Yonghwa nodded, humming thoughtfully. “How about the long version?”

“I just...” I shook my head, feeling helpless. “I don’t even know. Have you ever felt like your whole life is thrown off of balance one day? Like, you’ve always been sure of one thing but this other thing happened and suddenly you were not so sure anymore?”

“Not really...” Yonghwa trailed off. “You might have to elaborate a little bit before I can decide.”

“All my life, I’ve been told, and believed it myself, that I’m good at many things. I could be many things. Life was supposed to be easy for me. But then I grew up, and the list of things that I could be got shorter as my world got bigger. Like, there are apparently many people who can do better than me. They’re so damn good that I stand no chance against them. Not even in a million years. But I like doing those things I’m supposedly good at, you know? So much that I’m terrified to face the truth. What if I’m actually bad? What if I’m bad, and end up hating everything I once loved? I would have nothing left in the end.”

I was rambling. I knew I made little sense. But Yonghwa didn’t even move. His expression was open, almost serene, patiently waiting for me to continue. So I did. “I decided to take Journalism as my major without knowing why. The whole time I’m in class, I can’t help thinking that I should be somewhere else, doing something else that I love. But I also know that I’m not brave enough to do so. I feel very conflicted. I guess that’s why I ditch class altogether. I just want some peace, even for a little while.”

I took a deep breath. It surprised me how the words just flew out of my mouth. I never even said that out loud before. I guess Minhyuk was right again. He had been telling me that expressing how I felt would help a lot, either talking it out to someone or writing it down. According to him, the webs of your trouble would untangle themselves in the process.

Yonghwa his chin, seeming in deep thought. He then leaned forward, as if he was about to tell me a dirty secret. “Shinhye, do you know what major I am?”

I subconsciously leaned backwards. “Music?”

“Yeah, you would think that, right?” Yonghwa took out his wallet from his jeans’ pocket. He pulled out a card, and gave it to me.

I took it from his hand cautiously, still not sure what this was all about. I looked the card over. It was his Student ID. Trying my best not to stare too long at his face on the left corner of the card, I shifted my gaze to his student information.

J U N G  Y O N G H W A

Major: Business Management

8 4 9 3 0 8 1 5 6 3 9 3

I widened my eyes in genuine surprise. “You’re taking Business?”

Gently taking his ID back, Yonghwa laughed, as if it was an old joke that he still found funny. “I am. The thing is, I’ve always wanted to pursue music all my life. I still can’t forget my parents’ faces when I told them I wasn’t going to study Music in university. It was priceless.” He pointed his finger to himself. “Just look at me, do I look like someone cut for a businessman?”

I took a cursory glance over him. I just realized that I’ve never really taken a good look at his face. I simply never had the chance to look at him for more than five seconds, tops, and either when he was safely within at least five meters away, or when he was in nearer distance but too busy to notice my creepy stare. The other instances when we were talking face to face, I insisted to focus my gaze on his eyes, trying hard not to wander somewhere else and end up giving away too much.

Now he practically just presented me the opportunity to ogle his face and body. So I shamelessly did.

Illuminated by the lowlight of the half-finished stage, Yonghwa looked even more handsome. Beautiful, even. I noticed that his black studded earrings were not black at all. They were grey. His hair looked lighter, softer. I wanted to run my fingers through it, if only I was allowed to. His eyelashes were longer, and I could see that he’d put on contact lenses.

I lowered my gaze and took in the rest of his body. He wore that frayed denim jacket again (did he ever wash it?) with a plain black t-shirt underneath, a pair of black jeans and worn out blue Converse sneakers. His wrists were adorned with a row of cheap bracelets made of recycled fabrics.

He was just... breathtaking; he gave the same vibe as those dead rockers I watched almost each night on DVDs; those who wore their passions on their sleeves, who lived in the moment, who stepped under the spotlight like a man heading to his own execution.

Since the first time I laid my eyes on this man, on Jung Yonghwa, I knew I was like being tranced. This is it, he’s the one, wasn’t that what I thought? He was a man who was so comfortable in his own skin, who carried himself with sincere simplicity. A man whom everyone followed, inevitably attracted to his free spirited nature; an underlying reassurance that he could set everyone free of any binding pressure and burden of life.

Subconsciously, I must have known that a guy like Yonghwa was all I needed: somebody fearless enough to chase away my fears.

For the third time that night, I guess Minhyuk was right. I was just obsessed with music men; those idealist and utopian rockers whose faces were framed and neatly hung on my walls. I was just desperate for a savior to come and save me from myself.

Realizing that I’d dozed off for too long, I remember that Yonghwa was asking me a question. I blinked a few times to clear my mind. “You look...” My brain scrambled to compose a decent sentence. “You look like you could be anything you want, actually,” I said with a teasing smirk, opting for a flirty answer to cover my true feelings.

Yonghwa gaped at me with a horrified look. “Just you wait, your man will hear about this.”

Wow, what a way to plummet my mood to the deepest layer of Earth.

“If I had one, that is,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

The pitying look Yonghwa gave me was heartbreaking. I lowered my gaze immediately. This sudden mention of soulmates bull only reminded me of the fact that Yonghwa already had Seohyun. And Seohyun had him. She was allowed to do the one thing I’d always longed to do the most: loving Yonghwa, and being loved in return.

Yonghwa must have noticed my sudden sour mood, for he changed the subject immediately. “Anyway, I’m just saying that you don’t have to feel all weirded out if you decided not to formally study the thing you seem to be good at,” Yonghwa said with the gentlest tone I’d ever heard coming from him. “Because you’re not the only one. I don’t even care about Business, I never did.”

I looked up as Yonghwa went on, “As for me, I don’t like to be told the right ways to do the thing I love the most. I do music by instinct, you know? It’s an outlet, my safe haven. If some people start to lecture me about how I am supposed to do it, it wouldn’t be fun anymore. And once I realized it, I would’ve already hated music and things would never be the same.” He scrunched his face as if disgusted by the mere thought. “So I guess I can relate with you on that part. Anyway, I decided to take a major I care the least, but one that I believe I’d manage just fine. So, Business, that is. My dad has his own business and my big brother also graduated from Business, so I have them to help me when I’m stuck, you know?”

I nodded slowly, my throat felt choked.

“Well, I’m not saying that’s the ideal option,” Yonghwa continued, seeming clueless of my current state of emotion. “My point is that there are many ways to do things and everyone is different. You don’t have to beat yourself up over this. Journalism is pointless to you, well, that’s perfect. Attend your classes, be bored, grit your teeth and do your assignments. Then come to the headquarter and release your stress. Who cares that there are people who can do better? You love doing it, so you do it. We are young, we have plenty of room to grow and improve. Nowadays, we can learn from anywhere, right? It doesn’t have to be in college. Now you’re already deep in the water, anyway. Just swim and enjoy the waves, instead of letting the current drown you and bring you down.”

When I was still not looking up, Yonghwa said again, this time with a nervous tinge in his voice. “Are you listening? Do I talk too much? Sorry, I—”

I opened my mouth, meaning to give him some kind of a response, but what came out was a broken, hitched sob instead.

I felt a pair of strong hands gripping my arms immediately, and the realization that it was Yonghwa, added by the fact that we were at the place where I first saw him a year ago, only made me sob harder. I didn’t even remember the last time I cried so openly like this. It was like the walls of self-defense mechanism I’d built for years, sticking brick by brick made of profanities and easy going persona, just crumbled down without a fight, easily surrendering to this man who was currently saying string of words of reassurance and apologies I couldn’t even comprehend.

“I’m just so exhausted,” I croaked out, bowing my head even lower to hide my face from Yonghwa’s view. “I’m tired of trying to make sense of everything and justify all the things I did and felt.” I wasn’t only talking about my college crisis, but also my forbidden, not-going-anywhere feelings for him.

“I know, ssh...” Yonghwa released his grip on my arms, and proceeded to my back up and down; the gesture my mother used to do in the past whenever I was about to throw up.

I could feel the warmth exuding from his palm seep through my shirt and into my skin, settling in my chest. This was so unfair. It only took a few sentences from Yonghwa and suddenly all my troubles were answered. I was too much of a thinker. Eighty per cent of my day was spent by thinking, that my brain got too clustered. And here was Yonghwa, whose mindset was broad yet simple, putting things into perspective. He did it too easily that it scared me. He terrified me.

“Ssh... it’s okay,” Yonghwa continued to say, with a voice slightly above a whisper, over and over again, like a mantra that I held on with all my might.  “You’ll be fine, Shinhye. You’ll be fine.”

Many, many times, I pettily complained to Minhyuk that the Stars did a terrible mistake of pairing Seohyun and Yonghwa together. I believed they had little mutual interests, and their personalities differed so much. But I was proven wrong. Despite the differences, the way they lived their lives were exactly the same. They knew what they wanted, and how to get it. Seohyun was in Journalism because that was what she wanted, and Yonghwa was in Business because he knew he wanted to do music.

Unlike me, Yonghwa didn’t formally study what he loved not because he wasn’t sure of himself, but merely because he was very sure of his passion and capability, that he decided he didn’t need a college diploma or any professor’s aknowledgement of his skills.

With a renewed determination, I sat up straight, hastily wiping my tears with my sleeves. Yonghwa dropped his hand to his lap and cautiosly peered at my face still half-hidden by my wild strands of hair.

Once I believed that I was as presentable as I could manage to be, I looked at him, trying to convey my gratitude with my gaze. I still didn’t trust my voice. Because, what if I said the three words that screamed at me from the very core of my being, struggling to be set free, clawing madly at my throat...

Yonghwa gave me a broken smile, his face was half-silhouetted by the lightings of the stage, creating a radiant halo around his head. And once again, I was tranced.

Well, it. I loved this man. I loved Jung Yonghwa, and it wasn’t just because he did music. Sorry Minhyuk, for once, you were wrong.

And it wasn’t wrong for me to love him, either.

You’re already deep in the water, Park Shinhye. Just swim and enjoy the waves. Don’t let the current drown you and bring you down.

to be continued

Notes: Phew, finanlly Shinhye had stopped fighting her feelings for Yonghwa. I hope that’s some kind of a progress for our Yongshin, albeit very slight and slow lol.

And I hope you guys are happy with BFF!Minhyuk-Shinhye, and a lot of Yongshin scenes in this chapter teehee.

I’ll just have you know that the next chapter will be the last of Yonghwa/Seohyun couple, so stay tuned ^__^ I’m actually a bit excited, because I finally can fully concentrate on Yongshin ^^;;

OH, anyway, Yonghwa in real life does own EVH Wolfgang Black (one y beast of an instrument goddamnit!). Here’s a video of him with that guitar if the name doesn’t ring any bell for you: http://youtu.be/wTmI2gaYV5A

So yeah, I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading, subscribing, upvoting, and giving feedbacks :)