Sungjin shows up for class a week later to mediate instruction in Professor Park’s absence (he’s away filming for some talent show or other). As soon as Sungjin enters the room, the first thing I notice is the gorgeous Martin acoustic across his shoulders. The next thing I notice is that I’m oddly jittery. More than usual anyway. Sungjin looks up at the class, and his big, dark eyes crinkle in the corners when he grins.

“So, it’s me. I’m Sungjin in case some of you don’t remember. And this,” he lifts his guitar, “this is Atom. We’ll be going over today’s topic for the first half of the session, then after that I’ll be giving you back your graded songs from the first exercise.”

When he glances in my direction, I quickly avert my gaze, hoping he’s just looking past me as I pretend to look busy with my notes.

After something like a million years, Sungjin begins his lecture. He half-sits on the teacher’s desk up front and poises his hand against his guitar’s fingerboard. The action is so smooth, so natural, something only people who’ve been playing guitar for at least half their lives would ever look like. I remain still, transfixed as I take him in. His mouth is moving, his hands are moving, and he still keeps pushing his hair back and I’m staring right at him as he explains using more of his hands than with his words, but I couldn’t hear a word he’s saying. All I could think about is how incandescent he looks. How…happy he seems.

I didn’t notice it then, but in the context of twenty other students, it became clear to me that it wasn’t just me who was spellbound by whatever magic Sungjin has about him. I thought it was the alcohol in me that made me feel fuzzy enough to let him walk me home, but I can see now that the class had relaxed as if there’s something intrinsically calming about Sungjin’s presence. The whole atmosphere felt…lighter. Easier on the senses.

A soft strum from his guitar jars me out of my ponderings. Jarring, because it’s out of tune.

An embarrassed Sungjin laughs at himself, juts his tongue out as he apologises, and twists the pegs until he’s got it right. He plays a few chords, and then smiles softly to himself. He loves his guitar, that much I can tell. Not just with the way he cradles it against his chest, or how his fingers fit on the frets, it’s also just a feeling. Like if he were to hold someone against him, it would feel safe and warm.

Oh my god, what am I thinking?

“So,” he continues. “As I was saying. Prosody. It’s like a balance in a song. It’s stability. It’s the dynamics in a song that makes it a whole. It’s really building on a theme, on a message. Like you really have to mean what you’re singing about. Like…for example…”

He strums another chord, and my heart stops when he sings. It’s just one line, the first two line from the chorus of Professor Park’s song You’re the One. It’s a warm, smooth melody that spills from his lips. It feels like a mist, filling in the empty spaces of the room, and inside me, light and flowing but still in control. Two lines, and I’m at the edge of my seat desperate to hear more.

“There’s that…but it doesn’t feel right, doesn’t it? There has to be more. It feels like it’s not enough, right? Like something else has to happen. That’s what I mean when I say you’re teasing or creating a build. Naturally, you anticipate what happens next. You’re the only one I can see. You’re the only I can hear. There has to be more.

“Already in the first verse, we’re saying things like…When I’m looking into your eyes, looking at me. Happy, but restless. Restless, but happy. I know that you worry about me. Everything surrounding me will someday take me apart. Fancy living, beautiful girls around me. I’m trying to assure you that you’re the only for me. And then he says this killer line, if you look really close, you’ll see that the only one I see is you…so…”

He sings the the chorus again, this time all the way to the end. I can’t help but lean forward and close my eyes. Sungjin’s voice makes me want to listen to him forever. It makes me wonder just how much he can do with those vocals, how high and how deep can he go? As he sings, a throaty rasp rises above his controlled timbre, above his strumming and plucking, and it makes his voice darker and huskier, so much better. Not once does he stumble through the notes, and his voice goes effortless through the changes in pitch and in the dynamics of the song. It’s so different from when he talks. When he talks, it’s sharp and pointed, or, like now when he’s keeping his tongue straight he stumbles and stutters. When he sings it feels like melted brown sugar.

“So that’s four lines, right? Do you ever wonder why we do this unconsciously? That’s the idea that we’re going at. It’s balanced. It’s satisfying. That’s what we’re looking for when writing a song.”

The rest of his lecture goes over my head. I’ve begun wondering what else he does with that voice. If he took formal training—he must have, with that vocal control. If he plans to do anything with his singing, or if he already is. If so, where else should I go to hear him sing? I’ve never seen him in campus before, not in university fairs or showcases. A voice like that would not have gone unnoticed. Does that mean he went to university somewhere else? I begin to wonder how he even realized he could really sing, how he came about his guitar, and if he played every other instrument in the book. He must be composing now, too. Is that why he’s working for Park Jinyoung?

I dally behind after class is dismissed. I still have his hoodie. The sooner I return it, the sooner I’ll be absolved of the anxiety it brought along. I couldn’t explain it to my roommates, and I most definitely do not want Sungjin to think that I’m holding on to it on purpose. Or that I’m a hoodie thief. Or something.

Nayeon approaches him before she leaves, laughing at something Sungjin hasn’t even said yet. And then she laughs at something Sungjin says. I feel a shot of annoyance, but only because I want to get out of here as soon as possible. But Nayeon is telling him something about this song and this band and I’m running out of things to pretend I’m still doing just to stay behind. One more minute, I tell myself. If another minutes goes by without any change in my situation, I’m leaving. But just as I think that, Nayeon realizes she’ll be late for her next class and leaves. Finally.

I feel Sungjin’s eyes on me as I walk towards him. “Here.” I hold out his hoodie, folded neatly into a square. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome. Next time bring a heavier jacket, maybe? It’s still really cold at night.”

I’m not really sure how to take that so I just say “Okay.”

A beat.

“I was really nervous today. Was it obvious? I think it was pretty obvious. My heart was beating so fast. I thought if I brought Atom along I wouldn’t be so nervous. That wasn’t weird was it? I didn’t want to play on the piano, it’s not really my forte.”

“You did good,” I tell him. I guess, that’s what he wanted to hear? Everyone wants validation, one way or another.

“Really? You think so?”

I nod. I half-turn to the door, intent on making an escape before it gets even more awkward than already. “I should…”

“No, yeah you sho