“Hey Jaejoong?”

“Yeah?”

I was sitting beside him on a bench, my fingers tightening around a warm cup of hot chocolate. The heat sent shivers up my fingers, which was a huge difference from the icy tingles of the ice cream.

“What’s going to happen when we’re back in Seoul?”

“I’ll probably be going back to become a trainee. Yunho too, I guess. Why?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

I stared around at the people, voicing my innermost fear. For the past couple of weeks, I hadn’t been doing anything except for moping over my scar, and I felt useless. Perhaps I hated how I looked, but it didn’t mean that I couldn’t do anything, either. I had tried to get a job, hoping that the modelling stint with Jonghyun would catch me a position in their company, but it didn’t really work out the way I’d wanted it to. Instead, I’d ended up meeting this trainee, vacationing in Vancouver, and blowing all my money away on mango ice cream.

“You’ll figure it out. You’re Jung _________.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that easy. How’s it like being a trainee?”

I tried to switch the conversation for once, because I’d never asked about his personal life. I was afraid that he would hush up and keep it a secret, but instead, he smiled, his eyes sparkling.

“It’s wonderful.”

I was surprised by how passionate his answer was.

“When you’re on stage, it feels like another world. I get to sing, I get to dance-I get to do everything I love, and people are watching me and paying me to do it. It’s the greatest job in the world-I get to be with my friends and make other people smile at the same time. To others, it’s a useless career, but to me, I think that it’s meaningful. When people are feeling upset or sad, I want them to listen to me. I want them to know that there’s always going to be someone who has gone through what they’ve gone, and that they’re not alone.

I want them to know that, because I never, ever, want them to be like me.”  His voice trailed as he ended his thoughts. We sat there, silent, reflecting on the words that had cut through the silence. I didn’t agree with him-I thought that he was just being too harsh on himself. Wanting to get the point across, I decided to have a serious conversation with him.

“Maybe you don’t think so, but I think you’re pretty amazing, Jaejoong.”

He looked at me, wide-eyed.

“I think you’re truly a good person. At first, I thought you were stuck up and awfully proud, but I realized that it’s just your way of getting across your feelings to someone. You’re not obscene or rude, it’s just that you don’t know how to express yourself to others. However, when you’re with me, you truly don’t care about the fact that I used to be bullied, that I was there when my parents died-you just like me because of who I am.”

The silence that followed was stifling.

“Gomowo.”

I looked at him, this time utterly serious, even going to the point where  I was thanking him. I felt slightly offended, though, when Jaejoong sniggered, his eyes crinkling and his lips parting into a wide grin. He reached for my hand, and when our fingers locked together, I didn’t pull away. We stayed like that for a while, until Jaejoong spoke up with another remark.

“Who said that I ever liked you?”

This time, instead of hitting him though, I laughed.

He’d understood.

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

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