Hello hello ~ How's everyone September so far? Mine has been pretty awesome, just saw My Kingdom :) It's an amazing movie *o* 

I was suppose to have this up on Thursday but my beta slacked off till Friday =w= and I was too tired to edit and post it up last night XD So here it is ~

Someone's confuse about the crossing of the past and present, so here's a little hint ^^ When Hyunseung's mention, it's usually the present. When Hyunseung makes an appearance, it's most likely the past :) When Kikwang's mention or makes an appearance, it's definitely the present :D Doojoon doesn't really matter because he just screws everything up XD

Also, this is a chapter of the past :) 

“Mom, Dad, how does this look?” I hold up my distorted dumpling.

They laugh a little, and Doojoon interjects, “Mine looks better,” he holds up his, which, honestly, didn’t look any better.

“Both of yours are wonderful,” Mom takes them, and puts them on the tray.

“Dad, why are we making dumplings anyway?” Doojoon asks. “Can’t we just buy them? 

“They taste good, don’t they?” Dad responds. “They taste better when we make them ourselves.”

“Yeah, they do, but they take a long time to prepare.” We’ve been at it, for about an hour now, just folding, and shaping them. The efforts are good, the results are questionable.

“They mean union because it takes a long time to make dumplings. So, we need a lot of people to make them, a team and the team refers to a family.” Mom responds, holding Doojoon and I closely together.

“Then, that means we should make them every May for Family Day.” I laugh and look at the dumplings on the tray, they weren’t the prettiest, probably not the tastiest but they were filled with our efforts.

A ringing cut through; a head-ache inducing one. My hands search with difficulty for the phone. The ringtone told me that it was a long-distance phone call.

“How’s my favorite sister?” I roll my eyes; neither do I tell him I’m his only sister.

“I was sleeping pretty pleasantly until you called.” I sit up and yawn, stretching my arms out with the phone cradle between my cheek and shoulder.

“You’re going to be late if you continue to sulk in bed.”

“How are things over there?”

“Pretty good, I don’t think I can visit this summer,” he hesitates, “I want to take extra courses.”

“I understand.” I couldn’t hide the disappointment. I only see him, once a month, in the whole year. Emails, phone calls, video calls weren’t sufficient, not compared to seeing him, face-to-face. It’s been like this for the past two years, this year, marking the third year. Three years since I’ve actually seen him, three long years and there’s more to come.

“Air, quit your job.”

It wasn’t a surprise that he found out, though, I was surprise that he found out so late. “No.”

“Why? You don’t need money, so –”

“I’m not using your money.”

“My money is basically yours. Don’t make me contact your landlord—” he wasn’t serious, his voice was joking with me but I felt the need to make it clear to him. 

“Doojoon, don’t even think of paying my rent.” I tried to fabricate a teasing tone, I wonder if it worked.

“I’m a daring person.” 

“Don’t make me move houses and never contact you again.” I would never.

“Air, I wish you were younger, when you use to let me baby you.”

“Joonie, I’m growing up.”

“Too fast for my liking.” There was a scowl lined in between his words.

I hear some shuffling in the background, some footsteps and some papers flying in discord. “You should be going; it’s time for your presentation.”

“You remembered.” He smiled. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

That was enough, I just needed a brother, I just needed Doojoon. Giving me strength, that was far than enough.

“Hey, is there a new guy you’ve been seeing lately?” Nia asks. Translation for: Who are you dating?

I look at her, strangely. “I did meet a new friend but I’m not seeing him.”

“We were walking to your house, and your neighbor was talking about a guy staying over last week,” Kerin said, still engross in her book.

I scowl at the nosey neighbors, “He didn’t stay over.” I clarify. Kerin stuck her head out from her book, and Nia looked at me with questioning eyes. I ignored it and continued walking.

Then, I faintly hear a countdown and before it reaches 0, I dash down the streets. I needed to run before it happens. Sooner or later, they caught me and I was attacked, brutally with tickles. I tried to control the laughter, but it was riotous. With tears threatening to brim, I confessed. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.”

“If you told us earlier, it would have made our jobs easier,” Nia commented.

“There’s nothing going on between us, we’re just friends.”

“And he stays over,” Kerin adds.

“He didn’t stay over, we just talked. Nothing happened,” I retorted back.

“We didn’t say anything happened,” Nia giggles and she wriggles her brow at me, accusingly. I grimace, I’m falling into their trap.

“If it makes you feel better, Airhead—”

“Don’t call me Airhead.”

“Anyway, Airhead,” she sends me a sugar-coated smile, “That’s how Junhyung and I started. Late nights visits, and look where we are now, we’re living together.”

“You don’t have to tell us your love life, Kerinnie.” Kerin frowned.

“But seriously, those things lead to a relationship. You let them happen as well. At first, I denied it, but after Yoseob started visiting more often, I accepted the fact that I like him. You probably like him.”

“Thanks for sharing your story as well, Nia.” I frown, and they both shake their heads at me, laughing. It was another way for them to tell me that I was in denial. I wasn’t. 

“I seriously think of him as a friend,” I elucidate, and they frowned.

“We’re going to pig out at your house so we can meet him then,” Kerin says. “I want to be his friend too.”

I object, almost immediately, and to their liking. “No, you’re going to freak him out.”

“See, you do like him,” Nia pokes fun, “But, he has to get use to it. We have to go on triple dates!”

I shake my head in laughter; they weren’t going to get it. I don’t think they were trying to understand. They were too in love with the idea of triple dates.

Hyunseung had the permission that most people didn’t. He could come to my house, at odd hours, and stay there, until odder hours. We would talk, laugh, and sometimes, argue about the strangest things, but that’s basically our friendship. Sometimes, our talks are coalesced with some medium of solemnity, but that didn’t last long. I realize that Hyunseung and I were alike in some ways: stubborn, persistent, and secretive. I knew that we were both secretive, but we didn’t ponder, we didn’t go in deeper, we just let it happen.

Like the last time, he went through my yearbooks. I didn’t mind, I did tell him to make himself at home, he was only living up to it. I found myself asking him things I assume he usually wouldn’t talk about, but he surprise me. 

I value this friendship, just like my friendship with Nia, Kerin, Yoseob, Junhyung and Dongwoon. They’re the extension of my family; Hyunseung is a part of my family.

“You know Hyunseung,” he looks up, “Thank you.” I tap my pencil on the table, bored. 

“For what?”

I shrug, “I don’t know.”

“Then thank you as well.”

I smile, continuing the little game. “For what?”

“For being here,” he continues to stare at the book, but his red ears were giving him away. I feel special.

One day, when Hyunseung’s wallet falls out of his pocket, in front of me, I see his family picture. I pick it up, and Hyunseung quickly grabs it. “Your sister’s pretty,” I remark.

He smiles a bit, and I see some bits of Doojoon in him at the mentions of his sister. “She’s younger than me by two years but the two years seem so vast. It feels like we’re from two different families.”

I watch as he almost disappears in front of me. He seems distant; his memories spoke in the figment of words string together to form sentences.

“She’s smarter, a lot smarter than me. She likes business as well, and our parents were overjoyed to hear that, so they sent her to England to study when she was little. I stayed with my parents, under their guidance and inhumane expectations.”

England, such a foreign place, though, it didn’t sound like Hyunseung had the best time in Korea either. Today was another rarity. So, Hyunseung’s family lives here and he has a younger sister. “So, you stayed in Korea then?”

“Until high school, then I went to Japan for university.”

“I see.” It reminded me of Doojoon and I, except the distance for Hyunseung was bigger.

“I still call her every now and then, but the time zone difference makes it kind of difficult.”

“You know Japanese then?”

He nods and spits out a line of colorful similar syllables with some gestures added. “I’m good, right?”

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t know Japanese.” I laugh and I get up to get a glass of water. My leg brushes against the coffee table, knocking the photo album off the table. 

He bends down to pick it up. My heart race at the sight of the photo album – the one I forgot to put away.

My feet move on its own, my hands move on its own, the words aren’t mine anymore. My body feels like it’s possessed, like I’m just an outsider watching from the sideline as I watch what was once my body reacts on its own. I don’t recognize the swift movements, I don’t recognize the words and I start to wonder if I ever acted like this before. Hopefully not.

I see someone – myself, holding onto the book, I was trembling. Hyunseung freaked out, appalled at me, at my reaction. It was unlike me to just burst out, latch out even and just grab the book from him. I see my lips move, chanting something I couldn’t hear and couldn’t fathom. I see myself lose it—or lose something because I think I already lost myself. It was scary. I reach out and try to press my hand through the invisible barrier, trying to get myself back in my body, to tell him and myself that I was okay.

I hold onto the book tighter, hugging it closer. Hyunseung brings me closer, hugging me. His mouth is moving, I see it moving, but I can’t make out the words. It was frustrating, seeing all of this but like a bystander, I could only watch.

“Risu, is everything okay?” he whispers, but I could hear it this time. I see myself, shaking my head, my eyes close, shriveling, and my mouth still chanting the words. It was hard, seeing myself getting weaker and weaker. I don’t respond, and I see him, his fingers on the book, trying to pry the photo book out. He almost succeeds, but his fingers accidently hook on my arm warmers, pulling it off along with the book.

That’s when I suddenly feel something pulling me, pulling me back into my body. I feel – actually, feel –my hands going to pull my arm warmers up, covering my arms again. I feel my feet take small steps backwards, away from Hyunseung.

“I’m sorry abo –” He stares at me, and I could tell that he saw. I panicked, he saw, he already saw.

“What –” he reaches for my arm, and I inch back. No, he can’t see, I can’t let him see. I feel the scars and the marks grow warm, and the pain feels fresh, raw even. I hug myself, trying to stop everything.

“I –” I feel something screaming inside of my brain, assailing everything. Everything, my vision, my hearing, my sense of touch, everything becomes blurry. Then, I was running down a tunnel, at the end, there was light. The rays stretch out, and I could almost reach it. When I was so close to touching it, I was brought back to another place. My arms were shorter, my hair was shorter, and everything felt taller.

There was a sudden pain, on my arms, it hurts, and then it came again. I felt it, the abrasive skin of the belt, and I felt it, again and again. Soon, my arms feel numb, and I eventually see blood. I don’t know why it didn’t hurt, maybe I was getting used to it.

“Risu, Risu, come back,” I feel him bury his head on my shoulder, him pleading, desperation lacing it. “Come back, please.” His arms are around me, tightening his hold but I don’t suffocate, I don’t find myself breathless, I just feel myself breaking, hurting so much.

I don’t hear his voice; they’re faint whispers at the back of my mind. I try to make these whispers the center of my mind, but it doesn’t let me, the memories keep drowning me. It was suffocating me, and whenever I tried to breathe, there would be more memories, more pain.

My hands cover my ears, I try to kill off most of my senses as my mind tightens, the headache growing. I hear distant laughter, and I stand there while he spats out vitriolic words. I try not to let him get to me, I try to let the words pass through my ears, as if it doesn’t affect me, but it does, very much.

“Risu, Risu,” I feel Hyunseung’s breath on my ear, he’s close, so close, yet, he’s so far. He continues to breathe his words, like a song. He moves away, and I feel something, tugging at my arm warmers. I snap out of it. I was brought back to the present and I see Hyunseung. He looked scared, worried, and a mess. I bring my hands back to my side, and I stand there, lost.

“Thank goodness,” he whispers and pulls me back in, for another hug, a tender one, the bone-crushing one. “I was so scared. You were so distant and in so much pain, I felt so lost.”

I listen to him talk, and he sounds like he’s on the verge of breaking down. I suddenly feel like I need him, I need him here beside me. “I couldn’t do anything Risu, I—”

“What you’re doing is already enough, Hyunseung,” I whisper, and I hug him back, “It’s more than enough.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. We stay like this for a while. “I guess I have some explaining to do.”

He pulls away, and his head is lower so it meets my eyes. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

I wait, pensive for a while. “After that scene, I think I should.” I try to pass it as a joke, but he doesn’t laugh.

I sigh. I walk over to where he put the photo album and flip to the first picture. There was me, a new-born, with Mom, Dad and Doojoon. “I had a happy family. I have a mom, a dad, and a loving brother.” It doesn’t mean it should be a foundation for a happy family though, there were variation and happiness followed suit. 

I bite my bottom lip, and he helps me hold the photo album. “Mom married Doojoon’s dad first, then I don’t know what happened, I was kept in the dark. He died, I don’t know why, because of an accident or illness, I really don’t know.” I felt his hand on my shoulder; he gives it a little squeeze.

“Then, she met my dad. Doojoon was only one, so I don’t think he knew what was going on. He was happy whenever he saw Mom happy. Dad was a business man, a successful one and he created a company with his friend. He wanted to go overseas, thus he named me Airiss,” my vision started to blur. The hem of my arm warmer gently dab at my eye. Another purpose of it was to wipe my tears. 

“But I’m here, in Korea, after 22 years.”

“What –”

“Plans failed. A month after I was born, my father’s partner betrayed him. He framed him of taking the company’s money and was eventually kicked out of the board. Life changed after that, we moved to a smaller house but we managed.” I coughed, trying to suppress the lump in my throat. “Dad got hired in another company; he wasn’t the CEO though. He was okay at first, but then he started to getting flustered. He wasn’t that well, he started—” My fingers dig into the arm warmers.

“Abuse?” Hyunseung interjects and I smile through the tears.

“Yeah. Heavily on the physical aspect, and a little bit verbal.” He shakes his head with a pained expression.

“Doojoon started working. He had to lie about his age to get a job. His excuse was, ‘he needed money,’ but I think he just wanted to earn enough money so he could take us away from Dad. It was scary, being alone. At that time, I don’t think Mom was mentally well, but there was nothing we could do.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“There was no one to tell, Hyunseung. It was too risky, getting him angry and we would be in more pain. Doojoon tried to stay home but what could he do? He was only 14. We continued like that for two years, until one of the neighbors called the police because I screamed out in pain. I couldn’t take it. He tried to cover it up, but the police noticed the cuts and bruises. We were freed.” Or rather, we plunge deeper into the pits of despair, getting cut and bruise while we fall.

Hyunseung stayed quiet, I appreciated that. “That wasn’t the end of it though. The social service arranged therapists for us. Doojoon was fine, I had slight posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and my mom had major depressive disorder (MDD) and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).”

Hyunseung tilts his head, in question. “PTSD is severe anxiety disorder, and it’s triggered because of traumatic events, my father’s—” I close my eyes, unable to say abuse. Hyunseung puts a hand on mine, “You don’t have to continue.”

“It’s okay, I can handle it,” I smile. “I don’t know what Mom experienced, but for a while, I had flashbacks, nightmares, and sometimes, my heart starts pounding, and I start sweating out of nowhere. It was difficult to fall asleep, and sometimes, I would break down at the littlest reminders. Luckily, Doojoon was there – he tried to be. He blames himself for it, thinking he couldn’t be there. I don’t blame him, if it weren’t for him, I think I would have been—” I pause, “Dead.”

Hyunseung takes a quick intake of breath, it wasn’t noticeable but I felt it. “PTSD and MDD are both factors of suicidal ideation – people with suicidal thoughts – sometimes, I would have flashbacks, but with Doojoon’s support, I managed. Doojoon tried to be there for Mom as well, but Mom didn’t take it too well. When Dad was there, he would tell her she was useless, worthless of breathing, he said the same things to me but I guess, I didn’t understand the true cruelty of his words. Mom did, and she took it in much harder. Thus, her MDD was born. She stopped seeing her friends; she got frail and weaker. It hurts to see her like this. Both of us went to a therapist weekly.”

“After a while, I started to cope with it, better than before. Mom got somewhat better. I stopped going after half a year. The anxiety attacks were less frequent, and the nightmares almost disappeared. At the same time, Mom made new friends, and she started sleeping and eating more.” I smiled, happy at the thought.

“It didn’t last for long though,” I whispered, barely audibly. “Multiple times, she had thoughts of committing suicide and they soon turned into acts of suicide. I panicked when she tried for the first time, there was a knife involved. Doojoon came in time to stop her and she was saved. That wasn’t her last time...”

“The social service didn’t do anything to help her?”

“I guess we were in a pretty sketchy part of the city, so the social service wasn’t very good. It was all we could afford with the little money we had. So, another half year went by, and her suicidal act continues, and it hurts, Hyunseung, watching as she tries to end her life. It made me feel like I wasn’t worth it for her to continue living. Doojoon told me otherwise, but I didn’t believe him.” I sighed, “She did stop though, and afterwards, her suicidal acts stopped completely. The price was pretty big.” 

“I’m home,” I call out and the silence responds. I tried to smile. I was used to it. At least, I have a house, I tell myself. It was different, a different house from the one I grew up in. It was smaller, dirtier, and the area was scary in the day and night.

I run home every day when I get off the bus. I don’t want the smell of tobacco and drugs to cling to my clothes. I don’t want them staring at me with greasy looks, I don’t want to see their suggestive gestures.

It’s lonelier. Doojoon’s barely home now, but he tries to balance between school and work. I tried talking to him about work but he won’t listen to me. I know why, the only job that females in their late teens or early twenties, without education, could possibly consider is ion. I would never dream of it, but I think that if I tried hard enough, I could find another job, a better one. Even with this, Doojoon refused.

I hear the phone ring. “Hello?”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Voices scream back at me, I inch the phone away and look at the calendar. Today’s my birthday, I forgot.

“Thanks Kerin, Nia.” They knew about everything, from my birth to present. I didn’t think I’d actually tell anyone about this, but I did. They didn’t scorn me, but overlooked my past and accepted me. If it weren’t for them, I don’t think I would go to school.I never stayed after school for a long time, so they were my only friends. They were in my class, Nia talked first, and then I met Kerin along the way. We talked, we laughed. We sometimes had assignments, but I never brought them to this house, not here. Not this area.

“You left so fast, we were going to go out and play pool,” Kerin says.

“Sorry, I had to get home early.” If I got home a little later, the consequences were unimaginable, but I had a figment of what it could be. Most of the times, when we’re out late, Kerin's or Nia’s parents would drive me home. It was safer.

“Try to make the most of it, okay?” Nia asks, and I smile, a sad one.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Feeling uncomfortable, I ran away. “Look, I have to go. Thanks so much,” for everything. I wanted to add, but I didn’t.

“Alright, we’re going to celebrate at lunch or after school tomorrow to make up for it,” Nia says, and Kerin agrees.

“Okay, bye,” I hang up.

I abruptly hear movements in the kitchen. My hands go to my collar bone, trying to find the keys. Since my mom sometimes had suicidal thoughts, we had to lock up the knife, scissors, gasoline, and basically anything that could be used to suicide. I had the keys to most of the drawers; Doojoon had the copies to everything. I found the string but no keys.

I sprint to the kitchen at the realization and see her with a knife. I panicked; I should be used to this. I quickly go over to stop her, and I guess that day I was over-emotional because of my birthday, my forgotten birthday or I was tired of this life becoming a routine every day or the bottled up emotions of not being worthy of my mom trying to stay alive. There were a lot of reasons and all of them made sense.

“Mom, please, just—” I try to grab the handle from her.

“Airiss, please, save me,” her eyes pleaded through her tears, adding a little more force as she holds onto the handle. “Let me go.”

“Am I not enough?” I ask, and my cheeks feel wet. I was crying, and her grip loosens a bit. “Can’t you just try living, for Doojoon and I?” 

She looks miserable, her eyes are hallowed. She mutters a low, “I’m sorry.”

“I miss you mom, I want you back.” She stops; her hands still on the handle but they’re slightly shaking.

“Mom, it’s my birthday today, but you probably forgot.” I don’t know why I said that, I wanted to get it out. I wanted to let her know how much she was losing herself. I don’t even know if she remembers how old I'm turning. “I’m sixteen now, Mom do you know that?”

She shakes her head, and I didn’t bite back the tears, I didn’t stop them. “Come back Mom, please.” I beg, my hands holding hers, which was still holding the handle. The therapists taught me how to calm her down, to assuage her desire to suicide, but I didn’t think I would be like this, I didn’t think I would be spilling everything out.

I feel her hands, completely limb and I seize the opportunity to gently slide the handle out of her grasp. She notices this and reacts violently. She reaches for it, but I try to yank it away. Suddenly, there’s a burning pain on my side, tears sting my eyes, my legs feel numb and there’s blood, so much blood. 

On that day, Doojoon bought a cake. At least he remembered but none of us got the chance to eat it. I didn’t get to see Nia or Kerin the next day. I spend the rest of my birthday in the emergency room with my life hanging on a thin string.

*~*

I wake up one day after what happened, my sides still scorching at the slightest movement. I squint, trying to remember everything and I fall back on my bed, with a wince. I’m still alive. I heard the beeping of machines beside me, and I see Doojoon at my side. 

He wakes up too. The shadows under his eyes loom; they were getting bigger and more noticeable. “How are you feeling?” He smiles.

“Good,” I lied. 

I look around, “Where’s Mom?” His face drops, and he looks down at the bed sheet. I didn’t pursue the topic, and we stayed like that until people came in. They burst into the room more like, and they looked concern for me. I recognize them immediately.

They were my grandparents. I was surprise to see them. They were supposed to be in Singapore but apparently, after what happened with my father, they lost contact with us because we moved. They finally found Doojoon at a store, near our old house. We were supposed to eat together on my birthday, they were supposed to be my present but things happened.

“Are you okay?” Grandma asks, while she cups my face, worry running through her eyes. I smiled awkwardly, not used to such affections. It’s been around ten years since I’ve last seen them, so I don’t remember much.

“I’m fine, Grandma,” I say, but she continues to fuss over the littlest things. Doojoon shrugs behind me and mouths out: 'Get used to it.' In a long time, I felt myself laughing and smiling genuinely. It felt good to smile.

Over the course of a week, I felt myself getting better, the pain didn’t hurt as much and I could walk around comfortably without their supervision. I didn’t see my mom at all. My grandparents and Doojoon insisted that I stay in the hospital for a month. To heal and make checkups they said, but I felt like they didn’t want me to return to the house for some reason.

“Why can’t I go back to the house?” I ask. I never called that place my “home,” I didn’t have a home, only a house.

“Air,” Doojoon holds back and my grandparents nod, urging him to continue. “We sold the house.”

“What? Where—Why—?”

“Before your accident happened, I met Grandma and Grandpa a few months ago They didn’t know what happened, so they came here to look for us. They found me first.”

I nod. “Keep going.”

“They contacted Dad, but he didn’t tell them what was going on. When we moved, we lost contact with them, you know that. After I told them our lives within the years, they wanted us to go to Singapore with them.”

Singapore. I’ve never been there before, but I could guess that it was better than my current house. Anything’s better. “What about Mom? Where are you living right now?”

“We’re staying in the same hotel Grandma and Grandpa are currently living in. Mom’s going to go to Singapore. She went back to the therapist. After this incident, they said that her conditions got worst. A lot worst. Whenever she thinks of this accident, she gets anxiety attacks, so the therapist said to try not to trigger them.”

I feel my face drop, and I feel aghast. He was basically saying that she can’t see me or she gets anxiety attacks, I’m the biggest trigger. I’m making her more sick. She probably feels worthless and believes that Dad’s words are right. She was almost the cause of her daughter’s death. How do you live with that for your whole life? It was funny how I wanted to be her reason to live; now, I’m someone she shouldn’t even think about. “Are you going to Singapore too?”

“Yeah, I applied for a university there. I got the scholarship, Airiss.” He needed to go, our situation slightly got better now that our grandparents are here, but we still need to save money whenever we can.

“I need to think about it, can I rest for a bit?” I don’t wait for a response; I pull the covers over my head. I hear one of them sigh and they eventually leave. That’s when I let myself cry. The five years of overwhelming pain finally broke out, and like a waterfall, they don’t stop. I felt worthless, my sole purpose on Earth to wreak havoc. I wanted to be a filial child, but I wasn’t given the chance. I cause my mom to go deeper into her depression, my father’s business to go down. I managed to screw over both of my parents in the span of 16 years. Maybe if I died, it would have been better. There would be tears, but they won’t last for long. Time would heal everything, and they would be happy again. If I wasn’t born, then, things would have been great. Life would be great. I fell asleep that night, with my mind set.

“I’m not going to Singapore.” I told them the next day. Doojoon and my grandparents reacted, rather impulsively. They shoot questions, they try to persuade me but I stood my ground. 

“I can’t go. If I go, Mom won’t get better.”

“You have to come with us, we’re a family.” I wanted to laugh, a family. No matter how hard Doojoon tried to make us a family, to give me a family, my life hasn’t been all roses and sunshines for the past years. I haven’t heard that word in a while. 

“The priority is to get better,” I hold Doojoon’s hand, “You have to go as well because of your scholarship.”

“Airiss, you’re 16, you can’t possibly live here.” Grandpa objects.

“Grandpa, I can live with a friend, I can manage.” They don’t look the slightest convince. “Plus, if I go there, I have to learn English. I don’t know English that well, the chances of getting a scholarship there is almost impossible. So, I need to stay here, and if I don’t get a scholarship, then I’ll go to Singapore, immediately. I promise.” I reach out for Grandma's and Grandpa’s hands, patting the top of their hands. 

I wasn’t hard-working like Doojoon; my marks weren’t like Doojoon’s. He studies, his English is good, and his marks prove it. I didn’t struggle, but if I were to learn and study, while trying to understand a language, then I’d definitely struggle. A scholarship wasn’t likely to happen; someone wasn’t going to just give it to me. I need to work for it.

They were partially convinced because I was right. Mom couldn’t even visit me because she’ll have these uncontrollable anxiety attacks again, it might trigger her old ones as well. We needed the money, and I was aiming for a scholarship, so I needed to stay.

After another week of trying to find a suitable place, I finally found one. It was under my grandparent’s' name, but I called it my home. Nia and Kerin visited often, they slept over sometimes. I got the scholarship to the university I wanted, so I never went to Singapore. Nia and Kerin eventually decided to move in when we were all 18 because it was closer to the university. The house was under our names. It felt good to be able to call it legally mine. We grew closer, a lot closer, to the point of sisters, even.

Doojoon and my grandparents called, almost daily, to weekly, to monthly. Before, I would call them nags but now, I miss them, and wished they would call more often. It was a new pivotal point in my life, a new university where no one knew my past and I could start a new one. I needed one, but the past always had a funny way of showing up. I can’t erase my past, it’s always a part of me, it played a role in sculpting me. I had to accept it, even if I didn’t like it.

I didn’t know I was crying. Not when Hyunseung naturally embraced me, not when he my hair, not when he held on tight. It was when he started soothing me that I felt safe. “Don’t cry, Risu. It’s over now. Please.”

I found my arms, snaking around him, it was instinct. “Thank you Hyunseung, thank you so much.” I whispered. I realize that within these months, these brief months, I found myself not thinking, just feeling. I didn’t think of happiness, I felt happiness. I didn’t think I had to laugh because it’s appropriate, I laugh simply because it’s funny, because I wanted to. I’m like that with Nia, Kerin, Yoseob and Junhyung as well; I just never thought another person could have that effect as well.

I wanted to stop crying because the past is the past. But I don’t know why, they keep falling. Hyunseung continue to my hair, running his fingers through it, and humming a tune. It was nice, pleasant to the ears.

“Airiss?” he says. He was asking, not saying.

“Hmm?”

“Can I—” He pauses, worried. “I want to see your arms.” He looks into my eyes, and I feel myself, giving in. I’ll willingly let him trespass, pass the gates, pass the barrier and into the core of my heart. Where every secret is held, and I would let him see it, hear it, feel it. I’d give him everything.

I try to nod, but the waves come back, crashing against the harbor. If this continues, the walls will break, and the people would be harmed, even killed from the impact. I hold onto his arms, literally, as if I’m falling, and he’s my only support. His arms, tense, but he doesn’t let go, he wants to catch me.

I shake my head. I’m frail, I’m brittle, I can’t take the impact, I can’t. In a subtle but caring motion, his hands are on my arm warmers, slowly slipping them off. “Risu, I won’t hurt you.” He inches closer, “Trust me.” His breath lingers over my ear, and I nod. My eyes are still close, shut tight as I will the moment to go by. Maybe not as fast as an airplane or a car, but fast enough so the tears don’t come. I don’t want to cry anymore.

My arms felt expose to the cold air, it felt weird. After Dad left, I wore long-sleeves, arm warmers, anything to cover the marks, the scars. I didn’t care about other people’s subjectivity, the reminders that they serve were overwhelming. I couldn’t accept it, so I just hid it. After ten years, they saw the light of the world; they felt the brisk wind, the heaviness of the air.

I feel feather light touches ghosting over the scars, outlining the grotesque form. “You’re still beautiful,” he says. He presses little kisses on them, healing kisses. Each kiss etching promises of happiness, security, and hope. They suddenly ghost over my ear, and he whispers with the utmost secrecy, “I love you, Airiss.”

A dream, I convince myself that I’m dreaming.

“Airiss, open your eyes, its reality and you’re happy. It’s not a dream.”

The feathery kisses continue, they tickle my cheeks as he kisses away the wet trails. He daubs promises of happy-endings, wishing stars and fairytales.

I open my eyes and reality seems too bright for my eyes to grasp. With time, I could adjust. 

“Airiss, I can’t give you the smiles you deserve, but I’ll try, I’ll try my hardest.”

I believe him; I wanted to believe that happy-endings exist, that there would be a day where I’ll find mine.

I feel his breath, ethereally over my lips. The breath whispers dreams of awakening temptation, lust, and passion.

I tip-toe, and my lips meet his. Our kiss holds promises of sincerity, trust, and love.

I'm really satisfied with this chapter, event-wise. Like I thought it would be hair-pulling but it just came to me, like a river, flowing and flowing. Omg, I feel so embarrass writing the ending >~< Being someone who has no experience, I had to draw up all of my corny dramas to write it. LOL, and nearly died re-reading it. That's probably why it took 3 hours to edit it with my constant breaks. Anyway, comments are love ~

@Honaerie: I feel really really touch to know that you made an account just to ask about updates XD I should be feeling pressed sure ;~;  I'm going to try to make this fanfic a montly update because of my other stories ;A; Just a question, why do you have to wait for chapter 6 to read chapter 5 :O? I'm honestly so flatter to hear that you love this fanfic. /fist pump

I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for commenting ^^

@Janale6: Your comment's flattering me >~< It makes me happy knowing that I can make you happy depsite the miles ~ I'm glad you like Hyunseung :) I was scared of people being too bias towards Doojoon XDD I hope you like this chapter :3

@Halimalikesrice: Thanks for commenting ^^ I hope you enjoy this update~