“Do you want to hear a joke I heard from a student?” Uncle Seunghyun asks, a glass of wine in one hand while he makes gestures with the other. He wears a fuzzy sweater and his curls stick out wildly, which is only odd because I usually see him in a suit with his hair neatly parted and slicked back. Today he is Uncle Seunghyun but on those other days he is the other Professor Choi, doctorate of experimental psychology.

“Do we have a choice?” Hanbin asks warily beside me and I hide a giggle with my hand.

Uncle Seunghyun smiles. No, we don’t.

“So, two friends are out in the woods and an angry bear wanders into their campsite. One camper starts to tie up his running shoes. His friend asks him, ‘what are you doing? You can’t outrun a bear!’” He begins, the wine sloshing in his glass like a lava lamp. “The first camper replies, ‘I know. I don’t have to outrun the bear.’”

I stare at him wordlessly, the others at the table letting out awkward laughs. Uncle Seunghyun smirks as he proceeds with his meal while his older sisters starts to laugh at the head of the table.

“Hanbin, Hayi, you two take that lesson to heart.” Professor Choi tells us with a pleased smile. “That should be your philosophy. In order to be in the top ten you just have to be better than number eleven.”

“Mom.” Hanbin complains with a groan and I pick at my lunch absently.

I give him a small smile when he looks at me to back him up. For some reason, I can’t look him in the eye. Between the two of us, I know I’m the one with my running shoes on.

-&-

I shift around on the loveseat, its cushion worn down by decades of use. Last time I sat here I was much smaller. The office had appeared much larger back then. In reality, the office is almost too cramped, with shelves of books on every wall that seem as they’re closing in. I felt like Alice, rapidly expanding and growing until my arm popped out the window and leg pushed through the door. My heart to thump uncomfortably. For a therapist who only works with children, that probably was never an issue.

“How have you been doing lately, Hayi?” Professor Choi asks, sitting leisurely in her leather chair. She sits with her hands folding in her lap. She watches me with a practiced smile. No notebook. No pen.

“Good.” I answer shortly, my legs crossed at the ankle.

“Good?” She raises a brow, which makes her look more like Hanbin. I never noticed how much he resembled his mother. “Can you expound more on that?”

“Just…” I try to think of the right word. “I’ve been at a base line. Not that low, not that high. Just good.”

She nods as if making a mental note. She asked me earlier if I wanted to sit down with her, not as a client but just to check in with me. She said it wouldn’t be like a regular appointment. But how can a therapist not be a therapist?

“Are you still writing?” She asks with a smile and I shake my head. “Why not?”

“I’m too busy with school, I feel bad if I take time to write.” I shrug. “Plus, there isn’t really a point to it.”

“How is school?” She changes the subject and I sigh in relief.

“School is good. My grades are good, I’m in the top percent of the department.” My legs uncross and swing slightly against the edge of the loveseat. “I like school because as long as I work hard and put in the effort, I’ll be rewarded for it.”

“Have you made many friends?”

“Hanbin and I are close.” I smile as I look up at her and she laughs. “Other than him, I get along with my roommate. And there are some girls I can talk to in the department. I did meet someone that I like but I don’t think anything will happen.”

“That’s new.” She hums supportively. “Liking someone can be exciting. Why don’t you think anything will happen?”

“It’s probably just one sided.” I give her a tiny smile but regret bringing it up. “I almost feel like I’m not allowed to like anyone.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, if I like him, but if he doesn’t like me, it’ll just hurt. I don’t know how to keep myself from getting hurt.” I cross my legs back together, my fingers tightly laced together in my lap. “Whenever I want something, whenever I like something, it goes away. So, I’m fine just quietly having a crush.”

She watches me for a while without speaking. I can feel the sympathy in her gaze. I both need and hate her pity.

“Hayi, do you have anyone you can talk to? Do you talk to your roommate very much?” She asks, her tone softened.

I shake my head. “We don’t talk about anything serious.”

“Is there a reason why you stopped seeing your therapist?” She asks softly and I swallow.

“He just… made me feel bad.” I answer, wringing out my hands. “Because I study psychology, he made me feel like I was making everything up. I felt like I couldn’t be honest without him judging me.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Hayi.” She apologizes and feels more motherly than like a woman who used to be my therapist. “I have a former student who has opened up a practice in Seoul. Would you be open to meeting her? I really want you to have someone to talk to so you don’t have to hide this much of yourself.”

I nod slowly.

“I’ll think about it.” I promise her quietly as she hands me a card. I hold the card in my hand gingerly, as if it'll lose value if I let it get bent or torn. The edges are sharp and the ink still has a strong scent as if it were recently printed.

-&-

“Were you singing in the shower?” Hanbin asks from outside the door and I can hear the smirk on his face.

“Are you starting a fight?” I swing the door open to stare him down, my hair twirled into a towel on top of my head. I probably don’t look intimidating in my oversized pink shirt and fuzzy socks. But Hanbin knows better.

“No.” He backtracks, looking away from me while ruffling his own damp hair. He looks back at me slowly as I put toothpaste on my toothbrush. “It was good, you should be proud.”

“Shut up.” I groan at him through a mouth full of toothpaste. I spit into the sink and glare at him as he laughs and runs out of the bathroom.

He sneaks back in as I wash my face, rinsing off the cleanser with a towel. He stands in the doorway without saying anything, quietly watching as I go through my skincare routine.

“What is that?” He asks, pointing to a bottle on the counter.

“Toner.”

“And that?”

“Serum.”

“What’s that?”

“Moisturizer.” I answer through gritted teeth, gently placing dots of the moisturizer on my face before rubbing it in. He nods quietly, realizing he had started to annoy me. I glance over at him, my face tingling with the cool lotion. “Do you want to try some? It’ll make your skin feel soft.”

He steps into the bathroom cautiously, as if afraid I’ll do something to him. I think about it.

“It’s cold.” He murmurs with closed eyes as I pat some of the moisturizer on his cheeks and forehead. His eyes open slowly and he looks at himself in the mirror. “Now what?”

“You have to rub it in.” I sigh at his confused expression. I smooth the lotion into his skin as he squirms and pulls away.

“I got it.” He grumbles, gracelessly blending in the rest of the lotion. “There, done.”

“Hanbinnie, you missed a spot.” I coo, reaching toward his face and placing my hands on other side of his face. He blinks as he watches me. I smirk as he closes his again and squish his face with my palms.

“Hey!” He yells with red cheeks, stepping back from me as he laughs.   

“What did you think I was going to do?” I murmur with a satisfied snicker, putting my skincare products back into my bag. I pull out a small pink case and look over at Hanbin. “It was your fault for trusting me.”

He looks at the case in my hand before disappearing from the bathroom. I open it and shake its contents out into my palm, a little rainbow of pills against my skin. Red, blue, pink, green.

Damn. I forgot to get water.

Hanbin’s back before I realize it and wordlessly hands me a cup. I thank him quietly before taking a gulp of water before throwing the pills back into my mouth. I drink the rest and give him back the cup. He holds onto my wrist as I try to hand it back and I look at him in silent surprise. He turns over my hand, looking at the pattern of colors on my palm. His grip loosens and I slowly take my hand away.

I look down, not watching as he turns around back into the bedroom. I close the lid on the pill case before putting it back into my bag and zipping it up. I hold my hand up, looking at the stain on my palm. The colors melt together like a watercolor. Somehow, it looks pretty.

I flex my fingers, glancing up at my reflection in the mirror.

The skin is still warm where his fingers had touched.

---

Your day was so difficult that it was hard for you to let out even a small sigh. Don't think about anything else. Breathe in deeply and exhale just as you are.