Cry Out
That Summer
(LJS)
An unfamiliar room,
with an unfamiliar bed
in an unfamiliar city.
The dull orange lights on the streets below flood the city with gloom, yet cocoon, like a mother's womb. Insomnia... it glares brighter than the street lights, only a lot less colourful. Tonight, how many in this city, are staring into the darkness through their tireless, unsealed lids?
Jarring noises... from the scattered traffic below, get shut out by the window; entrancing the room in a strange surreal.
Quietly, and quietly... dread looms.
Like the slow approach of a hooded figure with a rusty scythe.
The cigarette on my lips burns its short existence; the low volume of the tv dully mimics the white noises in life. A can of stale beer sits untouched for hours - its fizz gone, its taste limp... A worn-out script lies on the brown table top; dog-eared, from too much reading.
Life, is normal.
Breakfast in room, accompanied by the tv that speaks a language which cannot be comprehended. Going to work with a crew at home with that tongue.
Life-saver... the translator.
The director is Korean, so is the make-up artist, the stylist, and the manager. I can't say I'm alone.
The make-up artist spent a long time doing her job. No thanks to my dark circles. I smiled at her sweetly. You're lucky, I said, none of the others got this challenge, not even when I juggled a drama and a movie at the same time, while learning to swim past midnight. She gave me a helpless look. I understand. She had to account to the director. I told her to pile on the make-up, to cover what was unwanted.
The crew, they looked at me, partly in awe, secretly in frustration. It is not their fault that they have to work with a lead who doesn't speak the same. I gave them a smile - there's one thing I can do, and that is to smile.
The director took me to dinner. A posh place, unfamiliar food. The wide-eyed co-star kept putting some kinds of exquisite dishes on my plate. I flirted with her. And him. But I didn't tell them, I just wanted some simple food. Like seaweed soup. And fried chicken. And kimchi. Together with soju that's awfully bitter. That's the best thing I've ever had.
The lobby in the hotel was filled with fans. I gave them my happiest grins. Within minutes, they would put up the pictures of my smiling face. The whole world will see it, that person will see it. All, is well. Everything is fine. I am happy to be here. It is a wise step for my career. Why else would I be here... where else would I rather be... there are some questions I shouldn't think, there are answers not for me to seek.
Back in the boxed room. I shower. I smoke. I read tomorrow's script. I walk to the window and I think of a city two hours away. Two months, not enough to forget home. Not enough to forget the bitter taste of soju on my lips.
A jingle goes off behind me. I look at the phone beside the bed but the sound came from the tv. The programs here are different from home, but the ringtone in their drama is the same as my phone. High and plasticky, it cuts the silent atmosphere and strangles the senses. Like noises they play host in the mind, like a painful glitter they taunt at the edge of sorrow.
I drag out another puff. The willowy white smoke floats before me, refusing to part. The toxic sticks... they give comfort, just like candies. You don't necessarily like the taste but they may remind you of the times you treasure. Cigarettes remind me of a friend. Just like soju.
The same jingle sounded. I glance again at the phone. Of course, it's from the tv again. It wouldn't be from the phone - I've switched off the sound since many nights ago.
The drama ended and is followed by the snippet of a magic show. The heavily made-up assistant goes into a small box. Everyone knows this old trick. But what if she doesn't come out? What if she prefers the quietness inside the box than the world with the audience? Or what if she wants to get out but is locked within? Scream... scream... just scream. And maybe, the inaudible cry will break those walls.
I switch the channel and stop at one without a program. Sweet, white noise. The silence that soon becomes too loud. Like in the magic box one can't escape from.
I move to the bedside, the clock panel confirms it is an unearthly hour. There's nothing else on the table, except the phone with no sound, and a photograph with no frame. My fingers hover over the phone, eventually moving to the clock panel to press a random button. It plunges the whole room in eerie darkness. Pitch black... it amplifies the unwanted. It plunges the wavering soul into a deeper realm of despair. It pronounces the helplessness in the absence of light. I search for the button and quickly turn it on again. The artificial light dresses the room with embroidered bravery. It is my blanket as I go to sleep every night.
Lingering over the table, my eyes resist to stray to the silver rectangular object beckoning me with its silent stillness. My fingers go back to the panel and I play with the buttons like a kid who is too bored. But in time, they lack will power and admit defeat. The useless fingers move to the aloof soundless object and I open the message I received last night.
"Come back" he wrote.
Missing you is like a bottomless ocean
I keep emptying you out
But I miss you, miss you and miss you
I still miss you, miss you and miss you
Missing you is like the passing time
No matter how hard I try to block it
I'm missing you, missing you, missing you
I can't stop missing you, missing you, missing you
- Too much
Sandeul, Gongchan
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(Because there's no English lyrics in the link...)
I let my shoulders down and let go of you each day
Because my heart is broken
I tried to smile as hard as I can
Because it seemed my tears were going to fall
Yes, I'm a fool
A fool who only sees you
And I can't prevent you from leaving
But I can't forget about you
I love you, I love you
For me there is only one person
I miss you, miss you and miss you
I miss you, miss you and miss you
Since I gave my everything
I don't have regrets but
I can't give you more
So I'm just beating my chest
I love you, I love you
I won't be longer by your side
It hurts, it hurts and it hurts
It hurts, it hurts and I'm hurt
I miss you, miss you and miss you
- Miss, Miss and Miss
Sunyoul, Kwon Min Jae
Thanks for all comments. My time's been taken up with BFF's broken heart. All because of a sh%tcase, nutjob. I would rather she go back to crush on our Math teacher. Don't chase for next chapter - it's barely written. Still got to be a full-time shoulder for someone who deserves much better.
(tbc...)
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