10.16.2007

 

It’s Lunch time. I was too devastated in the morning because I forgot to ask Dara of her schedule, and Taeyang laughs at my predicament. He likes that I’m miserable and dating. But I have my ways and I just can’t let her slide.

All this time, before Lunch, I skipped my classes just to watch Dara all day. Taeyang went with me—to which I’m not delighted because he constantly comments how weird I am to watch my girlfriend study. But I want to know Dara more, how she acts at different time schedules and subjects, and not only stick my mind to the impression of my French classmate Dara, who always has her nose in the book and trying to keep up with the professor’s French rapping.

As soon as lunch comes, I’m sure I can get a hold of Dara without the necessity of just watching her from afar but actually getting a hold of her. Everyone mostly have the same lunch breaks. Unless Dara had decided to have a no-break schedule. That would have made me the lamest and worst boyfriend ever because then, I had spent my day just watching her study.

I’m walking around the campus grounds, screaming girls in our wake. Taeyang’s laughing, telling me that since Dara is special, I should announce we’re dating. “Bullsh*t.” I reply. “They should know that we are. And why would they care who I date?”

“Official should remain official.” He contradicts. “Remember she’s not like the past ones. They know they are not official. You didn’t even court them. You’re not playing anymore.”

“That sounds I’m this rowdy, unruly guy.” I scoff. “Whatever.”

“I’ll bet for another ten thousand.” He says. “Your manner of speaking and attitude will change within a month of dating.”

I shake my head. “Whatever.” I hate betting with him because I always lose against him.

“There are so many worlds you need to try.” Taeyang claps my back and then points at the distance. Dara is eating a sandwich alone, sitting on a street bench and I feel bad Taeyang was the first one to notice her. “And I’m glad she holds every one of them. Good luck!” He leaves me alone, staring at my girlfriend from a distance.

I know she’s different—no one would have to point it to me endlessly. And I liked it. Maybe I will be judged of being too addicted to her, if I tell them I love the way her nose crunches when she’s drawing drafts, or how she presses her lips during Math or how she tries to keep her sanity during History. How she listens well during the lectures of her professor who only talks about Daedalus, even if it’s the nth time he talked about the genius’ life. Dara’s turning me into someone I don’t know, and I strangely like it. Before, I would have pretenses with the sudden change. I hate it, absolutely, because it’s not what I came about. But as they say—or as my best friend Taeyang says—everyone changes in love. And he could attest with that with his incredible addiction with his first and current girlfriend—which I’m sure Dara would be friends with. They’re both weird.

I walk towards my girlfriend, trying to keep my posture cool and collected by placing both of my hands inside the pockets of my jeans. Dara’s unaware still of my presence, and I want to surprise her.

“Dara-yah.” I called her with added sweetness, rolling my tongue with affection. Dara was taken aback and she quickly looks up. Her features relaxes and she whispers, “Oh.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Just “Oh”?”

She looks around cautiously then looks back at me. “I think we should date secretly. You know, after what happened yesterday, everyone will start attacking you.”

“Aren’t you deciding that just by yourself?” I ask, appalled. “And why are you eating outside? We should eat inside the cafeteria.”

She holds out her sandwich and proudly announces, “You can never go wrong with Grilled Cheese Sandwich. Mom made it. So I have to finish it.”

I steal the sandwich from her hand and take a bite. “It’s delicious.” I comment as the expression on her face falls from proud to sadness. I grab her hand and pull her with me. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Yah, yah!” She harshly whispers. “Don’t hold my hand! Everyone’s looking at us.”

“Let them look. They mind everyone’s business anyways.” I answer, nonchalantly and intertwine our fingers. In my peripheral view, I see her look down as we walk, and I find it cute that her backpack is bigger than her. “Don’t look down. I feel bad if you do that.”

“But I feel bad for myself.” She murmurs, almost inaudible.

I tighten my hold onto her hand. “Is it that bad dating me?”

“It’s that bad dating me.” She explains. “Who am I anyway? I’m just this normal student with no extraordinary background or extraordinary life.”

So that was that. I can’t even reply. I’m not good at making people feel good. It’s a given that my mouth is big but it’s also given that it’s cheap. Every time I open them, nothing good comes out. Just pure greediness, pure selfishness, pure loathing. My ‘I love you’s even are for the purpose of satisfying my greediness. I can’t give to the person as much as they give me.

We reach the cafeteria and I sit at an empty table. Dara sits beside me, uncomfortable and fidgeting. “I-I-It’s—“

“What do you want to eat?” I ask, turning to her and smiling widely. “I’ll buy you something.”

“No need, Kwon Jiyong.”

We both turn our heads to the voice and see Bom hovering us, holding a tray full of food. She turns her attention to Dara and murmurs, “Thank you for the other day.”

“How’s your leg?” Dara asks, now turning into her normal worried nature.

Bom shrugs and hands over each of us a bowl of Jjambap and spoons. “It’s fine. The cast will be removed in a week and I can just have bandages. It’s a good thing, and I’m really grateful—really. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be black and blue, crippled and unable to go to school because of shame. Our group—my former friends, I mean, they’re just this more mean version of Mean Girls.”

She smiles at us and then says, “Let’s eat.”

“Thank you for the meal.” Dara and I whisper in unison and mix our Jjambaps.

“Oh yeah.” Bom starts as we mix our food. “Since we’re already friends—best of friends, I mean—we should plan a day out to go to the amusement park.”

“We always go to the amusement park.” I remind Bom, rolling my eyes and take a bite off from my food.

“But I miss Wolmido. It’s been six months since we went there.” Bom gushes. “So Dara, when are you free?”

Dara presses her lips. “Friends? I mean, best friends?”

Bom nods. “Yeah, best friends. Why? Is Jiyong your best friend too?”

“Of course I am.” I answer quickly. “Boyfriends are also best friends.”

“I don’t mind.” Dara replies, pressing her lips, trying her best to smile. “Sorry, I’m not as bubbly as I look. I’m just plainly weird.”

“You’ll change.” Bom assures her and then continues to eat. We eat in silence because the food is too good. Unless, of course, in the normal course of life, the villain comes to displease your eating.

“So, same birds of feather eat together?”

“I believe that’s not the real proverb, but go on.” I reply. Judging from the voice, I could tell it’s the girl who cheated on her boyfriend.

“Yah! How dare you? The three of you! You all just ruined my life!” She shouts, clearly flaring up in anger. “And how dare you eat Chinese food in front of me mindlessly!”

“You ruined your life by cheating, you know.” Bom replies, finishing her food and putting the bowl aside. I did the same. Dara’s still not finished. I could guess three more spoons, since her serving size is bigger.

“Hul! How incompetent of you. And you’re dating that normal, monotone girl? You’re embarrassing yourselves, aren’t you?”

Dara stands up and stutters, “We-We’re not—“

“We’re dating.” I quickly cut her off and stand up too, holding her hand. Then I look at the girl who dared to even embarrass Dara the slightest bit for her benefit. “We’re dating with marriage in mind.”

Everyone in the cafeteria gushes.

“What?!”

“Soobin!”

We all turn our heads to the voice and see her ex-boyfriend from afar. So, my sunbae just shouted from the other end of the room after seeing us. He has a good voice box and good eyesight. I applaud, mentally.

Soobin, now I can call her by her name, looks at us with rage. “I hate you!”

“Soobin.” My sunbae is already beside Soobin and I’m baffled. Dara grips my hand tightly.

Sunbae continues, “You’re embarrassing. I don’t know why I dated you in the first place. But maybe, it’s because our parents insisted. I can’t believe you’re ruining a relationship better than we would ever have.”

And just with that sentence, Soobin crumbles and falls to the floor. And I know something crumbled too…

…the hierarchy in love.

---

After her classes, since I have no class after lunch, I walked Dara home. It’s much more convenient than having a car. And likely, she says, we’re working out. I told her I work out during Saturdays and she just shrugs the thought. You can never have too much work out, according to her. Apparently, she takes good care of her body.

We’re holding hands as we walk, and she’s slightly fine with it. And Dara’s really straightforward to say that it makes her heart beat faster. I’m flustered, incredibly and I find it hard to retort. It’s hard now that we’re dating compared to when we’re just a pair for French class.

We reach her home and Dara refuses to let go of my hand. “Do you want to go inside and have some juice?”

I look at their little apartment building, which was between two expansive apartment buildings, and then back to her. “Sure.”

She fumbles with her keys, using her only free hand and then opens the door. I follow her from behind, and is welcomed by a nice, cozy home. “It’s smaller than your room, though.” Dara laughs. “Go sit on the couch. I’ll get you some yogurt drink.”

She momentarily lets my hand go, but I didn’t sit down. Instead I look around. “Or tea would be better?” She asks as she makes her way towards their normal kitchen. It’s not as extravagant as ours, but not as tiny as a studio’s. It’s a 65 square meter room with a second floor. Pretty much just any apartment available in South Korea with the same interior and rooms.

Dara walks over to me and as she hands over a yogurt drink, says, “I told you to sit down. You never listen.”

“But you know that I don’t like tea too much. You remember from Pierre.” I say, accepting the drink from her. “How many years have you lived here? It’s my first time. We never did the homework here.”

“Maybe when I was two. I was born somewhere else, which I don’t know where. Then when I was one we momentarily lived in Busan. After that, my mom opened up the flower shop and we moved here in Seoul. She got this apartment building on loan and had rented out the apartments above us. We pretty much own the place. But since we’re going bankrupt, everything’s going down.” Dara shrugs and takes a sip from her strawberry yogurt drink. “I might move back to Busan if my mom can’t find a job.”

“What about your father?” I ask. Dara presses her lips and then motions for me to take a seat on the sofa. I did, and she sits beside me.

Before she talks, she moves her head down and plays with the plastic container for a while. “I know this is too soon but I guess, you say this on the get-go of the relationship.” She sighs heavily. “My father left us before I was even born. My mother doesn’t know anything about him now, nor does she want to talk about it. But he continued visiting and my mother bore three children. Just like a convenience store, he treated my mom. All I know is that what we have now was money he left for her—“

“Yah!” I shout out of anger. “How can he do that? Is he even a man? No matter what was the reason he shouldn’t leave a pregnant woman alone! What was he thinking?—“

“Wait, calm down!” Dara holds my using her free hand. “It’s okay. No need to throw tantrums or curse. It’s already done.”

“Yah, don’t ever talk about him. My blood is curling just by the mention of his name.” I shout and then sigh. “If there’s something you’re lacking with, we could work that out. Except for…your chest.”

“Yah!” She shouts slapping me hard on the shoulder.

I look her into the eye. “But seriously, we’re serious. I know you’re thinking I’m the least person you could ever trust. But…as much as I hate it, I want to embrace this change.”

Dara gives me a soft smile and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you, Ji.”

And I was beyond happy. Because it sounded more sincere than the gratitude given to me for the past eighteen years.

---

“Oh, yong-yong. You’re home very late.”

I’m greeted by my father, who’s sitting by the sofa. He’s sitting comfortably in his undergarments, smoking a cigarette at twelve midnight. Looking at him, I know that fathers greatly influence their children. I got his smoking habits. But that’s the only bad thing I got. Dara was left alone. And she got was loneliness.

“Dad.” I greeted him, sighing. “Is the position for your executive secretary still open? How about public relations manager?”

He looks at me as if I was going crazy, since I never asked him about the company yet. And I guess, it’s giving him hope I’d continue even with my passion in writing music. “Yeah. Both of them, actually. But executive secretary has higher pay because she or he does almost all of my work. I make that clear to all the directors. Why?”

I press my lips and move closer to him. Subconsciously, I put my hand over my neck. “I know you heard from mom that I got a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, she told me to tell you to invite her over for New Year’s or Thanksgiving.” He breathes out the smoke and throws the bud on the ashtray. I know it’s a bad habit of ours, but my father reasons out his high stress levels. He couldn’t contain them and thus inhales nicotine instead to burn them out.

Shaking off the thoughts of our habit, I immediately say, “And when I went over to their house, I noticed that their flower shop’s closing down. If…her mother doesn’t get a job she might move back—“

“Okay. Tell your girlfriend I’ll schedule a meeting with her mother the day after tomorrow. It might be nice to work with her when you’re dating her daughter. Besides, it’s the early stages of the relationship.” I look up and see him standing up from the sofa. He walks over to me and claps my back. “Introduce her one time. You’re actually looking much clearer now. She’s a good influence.”

“Clear?” I ask, taken aback.

“Like you know what to do with your life now. I’m old. I know that stuff pretty well.” He gives me an assuring smile. “Don’t stay up too much. And give me her number. I’ll dine with her some other time.”

“I can’t even tell her that she’s better than how she thinks she is. I can’t even help her with her insecurities.” I murmur, sighing.

“But isn’t that a part of the road?” My father asks, chuckling and he walks back up to their room.

Thinking about Dara, I’m glad I have a father who waits for me to get home—who knows, I’m having problems of my own and he’s there to advice. How much more for Dara?

How much more can I give?