Define 1: ‘The Kai’

            ‘He was always special. He was always adored. Always.

           He was bestowed with good looks and such appeal that wherever he was standing or whatever he was doing, one was not able not to look at him and marvel at his amazing face and built. His hair, his soft-looking regularly dyed hair that had different shades of colors every once a while but no matter what, it always surprised everyone of how every color matched him like the dye was specifically made for him alone. He had perfect nose and strong jaws that it made one wonder if it was sculpted by a very skillful sculptor, full and pink kissable lips that when it stretched out to a smile and showcased his pearly white teeth made every girl swoon in their fantasies, face that had a perfect shape and eyes—­ those pair of deep orbs that seemed so translucent that one could almost see the very pit of his mysterious soul. And of course, his build: long slender arms that was perfect for his arm and hand movements, pair of legs that was not long nor short but were a great combination for when he tapped his feet on the floor and body that was not big nor small for it had the muscles in the right places. And who could ever forget about his fair bronze complexion? Yes, indeed no one for the trait was the one that gave him the steaming hot and y vibe.

           But, that did not end there for when he stood on that dance floor, he was already beyond perfection. He was a dancer— a very talented one in his field. He was fluid on that stage. It was as if his main purpose in this mundane world was to give his audience the pleasure of being entertained by his mind boggling steps, movements and emotions in his dance. There was no coherent description of the way he moved- one could merely gape and gasp on his show. His dancing— was just plain perfect. Truly, he could be named as the epitome of dancing.

           People looked at him as if he was a Greek deity; a divine entity of some sort because he carried himself as one. His confidence and air of superiority made him elite from the people around him. Everyone bowed to him. Heck! Everyone kissed the ground he walked on!

           He was famous, no doubt that. He had many names: star student of Seoul School of Performing Arts, subject of the female student body population’s fantasies, favorite student of the professors, the next big thing, Mr. Perfect. Honestly, he was named many stereotypes and what not’s. It was hard to keep track. One moment he was the iest man alive and the next, well, he was the “iest-man-alive-to-ever-listen-to-Beethoven’s-works”. But one name or another all had the same mind to call him the only name he ever introduced himself as— Kai.

           Kai without a last name. Just…Kai

           And Kai was who he was. Born from two things, he is. A boombox and a star: born from a boombox because he was born to the beat of the music, he was the visual of the pounding rhythm that shook everyone’s heartstrings; and born from a star because he was born to shine above all, born to be unreachable. That was his legacy.

           Thus, those were the exact reasons why he was so out—‘

           “…out of my league.” Aya Han muttered to herself. Sighing, she closed the journal and capped the pen before putting on the spiral loops of her dark blue journal. She rested her forehead on the old, ratty wooden desk and closed her eyes, feeling the silence of the abandoned classroom creep her ears. She enjoyed the solitary she had to herself. No one ever cared to go here anyway. It is, for a fact, an abandoned classroom with mess decorating the floors and walls. Even the ceiling fan seemed to creak a haunting sound because of how unfurnished it is.

           She lifted her head up and roamed her black orbs around the classroom. The wallpapers on the wall were torn apart. The furniture was nothing but debris except for one desk seat she took residence on. Dusts, papers, trashes were everywhere. She looked at the view outside the open window just beside the desk seat she sat on whilst the sunlight tickling her face and the breeze of the wind wish-washing her raven-black crap of a hair, the view overlooked the grounds of the school. On grounds was where students chattered among themselves, goofed around and flirted at. The school ground was a place of news and events. It was a place wherein new couples were formed only for the whole school to see it and support them about it, a place for all tardy students to rush at, a place for all to dance around freely, a place where queenkas and kingkas clashed, a place of bullying, and a place of discoveries.

           This was the only classroom which gave that kind of whole view.

           This abandoned classroom reminded Aya Han of how twisted and cruel the world was, how messed up it was but when one looked at the right direction, one would be able to see the whole point of view one had failed to witness before and realize how much he had missed from all these years.  

           Looking at the view on the grounds, it seemed like a normal day. It was free period so students decided to hang it out on the grounds. Aya Han spotted a group of third years jamming with one of them playing the guitar; another group of girls were flirting to a group of boys (‘typical’, Aya thought with a snort). She spotted a couple being all cheesy and disgusting under a shade of a tree. She grimaced when they kissed. Save it for somewhere I’m not able to see lovebirds, she thought.

           But honest, the only reason that Aya Han was looking around was that to search the familiar face she was writing about earlier. Kai, known as what stereotypes name him as, whichever you name, it would be always him. Well, that is if ever he skips from his usual plan of not revealing himself to the public during free periods. But just like today, he was out of the picture. He never really did like entertaining the public when he was not dancing. The beat of the music knows wherever he is right now. He could be drinking the day out in a bar he was totally not legal to go to together with his awesome and famous friends. Everyone believed him to be a bad boy anyway so he’ll probably have the guts to do such.

           Not like she cared…

           Oh you care as much as the ghost next to you cares about him, her inner self smiled smugly at her. Aya crossed her arms, her eyes averting from the view outside the window to the dark blue journal in front of her. Indeed, as much as she hates admitting it, she grew rather fond of the superstar named as Kai. She did not, as much as her inner self says, care for Kai. No, she did not. Care was such a strong and affectionate word, she barely knew the boy outside from the stereotypes she usually heard.

           The journal contained words that exemplified how fond Aya was for the star. There written a billion theories about Kai. Coherent and incoherent observations, doodles and random things she wrote for when she was bored. She was not in any way romantically attracted to the boy. She was not keeping a journal about him because she liked him. Aya saw her alter inner ego ‘Evil-Aya’ smirk at that. The girl pushed the thought away. Yes, the boy was undeniably attractive and appealing but looks and love were two different things. The reason that she was keeping the journal because of what she saw a few months ago.

            If Aya closed her eyes and thought about really well, she could still vaguely remember the memory. She would still be able to remember the time she forgot her book for Music Composition and decided to go back to the lockers an hour after almost everyone already went home. She could still remember the way her eyes caught a moving figure inside Dance Room 4B by a small open of the door. She could still remember how she scooted closer to see who it was. She could still remember how she’d seen a , moving towards a harmony of a music she could not hear. She could still remember how she did not seem so taken aback with the bare sight of a male’s torso, how she seemed to be more moved and enthralled by the fluid movement and passion she felt of how the male dancer danced. How his feet and body contorted to something so stunningly synchronized. How spontaneous yet fixed it looked even without she heard the music accompanying him. That was when she realized how familiar the bronze complexion looked. How her realization made her look at the large mirror in front, reflecting the front view of the dancer. It was him but this time he looked so different. Yes, he was dancing but not in a way he danced on the public stage. Out there he was dancing in a modern beat, in here, he was dancing contemporarily.

           He was dancing with his soul.

           She remembered how fascinated she was at his emotions. How his eyes closed in focus and how his face scrunched in a mask she could not decipher what. It was his feelings that put Aya Han into a spell because she had never seen this on him before. Usually, judging from his public performances in the past, he was not as passionate as this. This one…this one was so different, so perfect, and so…heartbreaking. She remembered how his dance surged the deepest stir of emotion in her heart. How foreign it was. It was an inexplicable hollowness.

           Yes, she could remember all of those because it was too perfect to forget. It was a performance, conveying something that she could not further understand what. The passion in the dance— the gracefulness of the movements…every beat, every step so... agonizing. That was when Aya Han realized how mysterious Kai was, how he was more than what everyone ought him to be and that…it made her want to know him in the way other people had not known him before. Therefore, the journal was born.

           No, she was not the kind of fangirl like those of the girls from her year that keeps on day dreaming that they’ll be one day marrying Kai or was she the type of fangirl that would take pictures of him . She just wanted to know his enigma.

          She wanted to know who Kai really was. What was his real name, his dreams and such? But, she did it in a subtle way. In her own silent and deducing way. Now, that was way cooler.

           You are such a dork, Evil-Aya said scrunching her nose in distaste. Aya could only chuckle at her alter self, flipping her mess of a hair on her shoulders and failing miserably.

            “…and of course, because we’re on this Renaissance Period on Music next week, I want everyone to pass a four-page essay about this. You’re on library research, class.”

            Everyone protested. Aya having the seat at the farthest of the back of the classroom had the pleasure of watching everyone suffer from their personal brand of torture known as their songsaenim for History of Music. It seemed that it was only her that was unaffected by this. Of course, she had years of mastering the Renaissance Period. It wouldn’t be that hard on her part.

            Joonmyeon-songsaenim was about to say something more but the bell already rang. The rest of the class except for Aya celebrated at this by cheering. The students stood up and bid their professor farewell before he dismissed them.

            Aya was about to exit the classroom when the professor called out her name.

            “Aya-ssi,” the professor called out. Aya turned around and bowed politely at the professor, “Neh, songsaenim?” she asked, giving him a polite look.

            The professor smiled at her, “How are you adjusting, Aya-ssi? Gwenchanayo?”

            “Neh, songsaenim.” Aya nodded, slowly. “It’s a bit hard at first but it’s been months. So, it’s not as difficult unlike previously.”

            “That’s good.”

            There was a momentary silence after that. The Professor was sorting out through papers she was not able to fully see which was which whilst Aya awkwardly stood there waiting for her professor to dismiss her leaving herself wondering why her professor summoned her attention. This was one of those times she missed the western life wherein she could just run away without waiting for her teacher’s approval to do so. Well, it was different now.

            After seemed like awhile, the professor started talking again. “Aya-ssi, is it okay if I ask you a favor?” he asked, holding a dark blue folder on his right hand, a small smile on his lips.

            Aya like the self-proclaimed good student she was, nodded slowly. “Neh, songsaenim. What is it?”

            “We’re having a Renaissance Period lesson starting next week, neh?” he said. “I was hoping that you could do a small report about it. Since you know, you’ve been out of Korea for awhile. I do believe that you have heap of knowledge for American Music History, am I not right?”

            She stood there torn to say yes or no. Yes, she was fairly knowledgeable at the subject matter but everyone knew that she was not the public talker type. That was one of the reason that she seemed to invisible most of the time. She hated no…loathed speaking to many people. It made her jittery and anxious.

            “I…I—”

            “I’m sure you could do it, Aya-ssi.” The professor seemed to reassure her with his gentle voice. But, it still wasn’t enough to convince Aya. “You’re one of students with the best grade in my class and it’s time for you to show up too.”

            “B-But..” she tried to argue, her words trailing.

            “I believe in you, Aya-ssi.”

            Aya took a deep breath. This was not the thing she ever wanted in her life. She did not want to ever talk to public. Honestly, she wanted to spend her last year in school as an invisible girl and go back to what country she came from. But, who was she to protest anyway? Plus, judging from the glint on her professor’s eyes, he already planned this thing ahead of time. Like, I have a choice, she thought sulkily.

            She hesitantly nodded. Joonmyeon-songsaenim broke into wide grin. He walked towards Aya from where he stood up near his table and handed her the folder. She accepted it and looked at her professor, “Is it not rude to open it, songsaenim?”

            The professor gently chuckled, “It is not. You may open it, Aya-ssi.”

            Inside the folder was a blank paper. Nothing was written on it. Nada. Just a clean piece of nothingness. After he’s been through sorting gazillion of paper, she thought incredulously. She looked at her professor questionably, “What is it, songsaenim?”

            “I want you to write your realizations of the subject matter, Aya-ssi.” He answered. Ah, like a draft for a report or something? “You may not be able to trust your verbal skills so you could write your draft report here and read it during your report next week.”

            “Songsaenim, I could have provided my own paper.”

            “Neh,” he nodded, as always, being all smiley-like. “But it’s the least I can do for giving you such task, my student. And before I forget, you won’t be alone for this report. I gave you a companion so it will be easier.”

            Aya mentally shrunk. Yes, her professor was giving her a hard time. Not only was she going to do a report but he was giving her also a shot of her anti-social ability. This is supposed to be child abuse. She was not in any chance going to get along with whoever companion her professor fancied her to work with.

            “I-I’m not—“

            “I’m sure you know him, Aya-ssi.” He said nonchalantly. “Everyone knows him. And also, it’s Monday today so you only have roughly eight days to complete the report. You should start today if I were you.”

            “Who will be my companion, songsaenim?”

            “Kai.”

            What?

            “He wasn’t here today but he already knows,” Joonmyeon-songsaenim added with a smile. “I arranged that you and he should meet at the library today after class. You must start discussing. Besides, you only have eight days, right?”

            Oh my.

            She was not having a good time.

            Not only was only she due to make and have a report but she was also going to meet her companion today which was unfortunately (or fortunately depending if you side on Evil-Aya’s side or hers), Kai. The Kai. The same Kai that she’s been trying to decode for months now. The same Kai that she’s written on her journal all along. The same Kai that Evil-Aya keeps on insisting as the ‘love of her life’. That phrase alone is disgusting. This was not she wanted her day to turn out to be.

            She didn’t and wouldn’t know what to do. Aya was only cool with herself and Evil-Aya but other people; it did not just go well. Especially that the person she would be meeting was not a person but a stereotype-declared Greek divinity. She should be happy that she was going to meet him and hopefully finally interpret him but instead, she felt dread.

            Not in a way that she felt dread because she was meeting a boy and a very handsome, that one but she felt dread because she only realized now how bad she ought to be for probing inside his own mysterious and y life. Ha! so you now admit that he is y, Evil-Aya smirked. Aya shot her mental image a deathly glare. It was only cut off when she felt how heavy the dark blue journal inside her knapsack weighs.

            Aya made a mental note to burn it later. Depending if she ever survives this predicament she is in.

            It was already thirty minutes since period ended. There were only little students left in the ever quiet and dusty library. Only few students went here regularly, Aya was not one. She spent most of the time in her abandoned classroom not the library. In fact, for many months, she’s been only here thrice. Grand books filled the shelves, arranged all to the wisdom the students sought. It was everywhere, encircling the perimeter. Silence seemed to be a permanent unit lounging inside the room.

            Aya had already gotten the liberty to pick up the books they’ll be using. She was nearer to the place of Renaissance (not quite likely but still…) so, she assumed that she’ll be given the authority to be the judge of the research. On the other side of the note, she just want to end this fast.

            Yes, her anxiety would be taking a toll on her so she might as well just get over with whatever this is.

            She watched the grandfather clock at the corner tick, its pendulum swinging heavily. Joonmyeon-songsaenim did not say a specific time for their meet, reason why Aya half expected that he was going to turn up late. It would be his choice even if he turned out two hours later.

            Honestly, it would be better if he didn’t turn up at all. She could still do this report without his help.

            Aya watched as slowly the students inside the library filed out. She watched as the hands of the clock changed gradually. She listened to every tic and toc. She remained on her seat, tracing the outlines of the hardbound cover of the first out of three books she picked. Fifty-six minutes after the period, the only resident in the library was her and the librarian.

            She had almost given up on waiting.

            She was about to gather the books on her arms to return it to it shelves when the sound doors of the library opened up. The doors were on the other way of the table she chose to seat on, for such, it was to impossible to see who had came in because of the book shelves. Aya desperately wished it was not him. She just wanted to go home and drink a cup of coffee and watch some lame Cartoons on the television she could barely understand.

            But well, that plan was already thrown outside the window when she saw who had entered the aisle she was in. It was well, who he was. He was dressed casually with his uniform sleeves folded carelessly up to his elbows, his tie coming undone, his pants wrinkling everywhere, his school vest nowhere to be found and his hair…well, his awesomely chocolate brown hair tousled all around. His face was an expression of boredom and something…unreadable. She seemed awed at how he walked as if he was on a runway but not exerting any effort on doing it. He was confident.

            Something that Aya cleary did not have. Well except for snapping at Evil-Aya that is. It was more of sass than confidence anyway.

            Aya was almost taken aback when he sat infront of her, leaning back on his chair. In this close view, Aya was able to marvel at his magnified façade. He was as perfect as the way she wrote him on her journal. Indeed, he was beauty out of this world. But what she was fascinated more was his deep eyes; it was so pitch something that she was not able to tell what color it was. They were glassy, so…transparent. But, the transparency did not show something. The transparency showed her reflection instead of his soul. Point that she was wrong to write about.

            Then she finally realized that he was certainly sitting in front of her. They were about two foot apart. It was currently the closest proximity she ever had with him. They were sitting at the same table. Her companion was Kai. The Kai.

            She did not know what to say at all.

            She must’ve looked stupid because she saw the faintest smirk appear on his lips before it was gone like dust. He looked at her all bored and stoic, “Quit staring.”

            His voice sliced through the silence like a butcher knife. The comment came hurling towards her like a hurricane. She was staring. She did not…never stare. She did not just…

            Oh my gosh.

            She did not just sound and looked like some kind of ‘hey-I’m-you’re-number-one-fangirl-now-please-notice-me-oppar’ fangirl. Aya looked down in embarrassment, her face reddening to the tips of her ears. She could almost hear Evil-Aya laughing maniacally at her idiocy. Yep, she just, made herself a loser in front of the school’s superstar.

            That was so not cool.

            “Renaissance Period, huh?”

            Aya snapped her head up to look at him. He was skimming through the second book she picked, Music of the World. His eyes ran through the pages quickly, one elbow propped on the table while the hand turned the pages and the other hand holding the book. He didn’t seem to read anything written on the book. Just…looking at it.  

            “Uh…”

            Before Aya could say anything, the handsome man had already stood up. He gave the book one last look before closing it. He leaned down to Aya’s level, making his face dangerously closer to her. Aya tried to measure, just about two inches and their lips were going to touch. She could feel heat coming to her cheeks again. Aya tried not to think about the distance so, she blanked out her mind from it and from Evil-Aya’s mocking remarks. His transparent and deep eyes seeped through his black orbs, like it were finding her deepest darkest secret. She looked at those deep eyes once again, they were glinting something so unknown. She wanted to know what it was.

            Momentarily, the heat on her cheeks had gone out and her mind was only replaced by curiosity. She returned the probing orbs he gave her. Deep and black seeing, clashing, searching each other. It could’ve been seconds, minutes; heck...it could’ve been hours since they’ve been reading each other’s pits like that, nobody moving, nobody saying a word, nobody backing down.

            Still, none had succeeded in that area.

            Kai broke it. “I’m sure you could do it your own.” He said icily before leaning back and standing on his bored and y stance. He put his hands inside his pockets. Aya wanted to shiver at the intensity of the coldness of his voice. Only, the stone eyes she had looked up at had stopped her. His eyes were cold, lifeless, and soulless.

            Then, he turned his back.

            Aya was frozen there not because he left her neither was it because he wanted her to do all the work. No, she was frozen because she knew exactly what his inhumane voice and eyes told her.

off.

***

From the Author:

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