Dreams
That Summer
(LJS)
"Get out! You can go where you want and do what you want! I don't have a son like you!" The looming figure huffs with anger.
"Please, please dear, don't drive him out..."
"I'm not the one driving him out! Didn't you hear it with your own ears? He wants to go to Seoul... to become, to become, a... a model!" with that, the man looks around for something to hit the boy with. There is nothing but a chair.
"No! No! You will kill him! Please, I beg you!" the woman goes down on her knees, begging the man as tears flow from the terrified eyes.
"I might as well kill him! I let him learn Taekwondo, but he skipped the lessons to practice piano! And now what? 15 years old and he thinks he can leave school? And leave town? Is he trying to earn money by prancing around?!"
"Aboeji! I'm not leaving school! I will continue school in Seoul! Modeling is my chance to become an actor. I want to be an actor!"
"Shut up! If you step out of this house, you'll no longer be my son!"
The scene hazes out, and a man stands before me.
"Suk, we made it! The CFs are coming in! I just received three new scripts yesterday!"
and he hugs me tight, his strong arms circling my back and waist, squeezing the air from me. I can't breath. I look at him, he has grown stronger and more handsome with each passing day. His smile warms me, his voice assures me.
"Wait! Where are you going?" I ask, an uneasy feeling rising within me. He didn't turn around. His back faces me as he walks off with a woman.
I run, and run. Calling him. But there is no answer. There is only a long, empty corridor. Then I see an open door and there he is. I want to run to him but before I could move the door slams shut. I can't open it and within seconds the door melts into the wall. Like a madman I search frantically and found another door. Again he is there but the same thing happened. The door slams on me and vanishes right before my eyes. I stare helplessly at the long white corridor, so cold and clinical it scares me. I don't understand what's going on. Where is the woman? Where is he? The more I try to reach him, the more he disappears.
"Ya! What are you doing?! Stop this, stop! Stop! Stop!"
"Stop it!" I shouted and open my eyes, my heart still pounding. Another dream again, they are so frequent it's fast becoming an annoying old friend. So annoying I am having a headache. I look around, how did I end up in his apartment?
He is on the couch, talking softly on the phone.
"So, what time will you end today?..... that's late..... it's ok, just take care of yourself and catch plenty of rest........ Me too." He ends the call and looks up. "Ya, Saekki! Know what you did last night? You wet my bed!" And he raise his fist in the air as if to punch me, followed by an exaggerated series of 'tsk-tsk-tsk'.
My eyes turn big and round at what he said but I suddenly remember the rain yesterday. The rain... what have I done? I don't know how I turned up at his place.
I look down and realize I'm in his pajamas. My cheeks burned. Did he change for me?
"Ya!" I protested before becoming a beetroot. "That's not wetting your bed! You made it sound like I peed on it!" I can still feel the heat on my cheeks... and a bittersweet feeling gnawing at a corner of my heart... it's been so long since he called me 'Saekki'.
He laughs, in his usual deep voice. "Just wait till the world hears about their famous 26 year old actor wetting the bed."
I grab a picture frame from the side and send it his way.
We have coffee and simple toast for breakfast. We always have coffee for breakfast. It is one of the many things we share.
"So, how come you were caught in the rain?" he takes a sip and asks nonchalantly.
I shrugged, "Just went for groceries and got caught." Equally nonchalant.
Followed by a silence.
"... why were you drinking?" he questions, cool and collected, not even bothering to glance up.
"I didn't," I reply, taking interest in the cup of coffee in front of me.
"You did," he says plainly. "You stink of it last night."
I keep quiet. I have no answer for him. I get up and walk to the sink trying to find some dirty plates to wash, wishing he would stop drilling me. There are no dirty plates, so I pour a cup of water and pass it to him. Maybe that will keep him busy.
"Suk... are you happy?"
I look at him. I should have poured him a cup of salt instead.
"Of course I'm happy," I reply smoothly.
"You've been saying you want to be happy."
I look down at the toast.
"I want to be happy and I am happy."
"You are happy now because you are with her?"
The toast gets stuck in my throat.
"... I'm always happy," I mumbled. "Hey, what's this early in the morning?"
He looks up from the coffee and gazes at me. His eyes sincere and concerned. I have to break away from the gaze. It lands on the photo frame I had earlier thrown at him.
"The picture... didn't you change that?"
"What picture?... oh, that. Well... that was how we first tasted a little real success, isn't it? It's nostalgic to me."
'Nostalgic'? That was only a litttle more than two years. It is a picture of us in soccer uniforms - from our only drama together.
"I thought you would change to your girlfriend's," the girlfriend that you were quick to acknowledge to the world.
"Ya, aren't you happy I put your picture instead of her? Don't be an ungrateful idiot! When I'm not so lazy I'll change the picture and dump this in the bin."
Might as well. Some memories should be in the bin.
Maybe then, I'll be happy.
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