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I was walking into a restaurant when I was about to see through someone’s eyes and finally feel hopeful for the first time in my life. I was alone and wet. I was busy escaping that I did not have the time to grab the umbrella. As I entered the restaurant, I was afraid someone would stop me from entering the restaurant but no one actually did. It was raining heavily and I had nowhere to go.

Beside the restaurant was the barber shop. It would be wrong if I entered the barber shop without the intention to cut my hair. The other side was the cyber cafe. It would be the last place that I wanted to go because I feel uncomfortable around boys trying to beat each other in pixelated games and the opposite was the shopping mall. Restaurant would be the right place for sitting and staring which I always do most of the time.

The restaurant’s door chimes rang as if welcoming me when I entered. It was the holiday season with families eating lunch together and they seemed to be comfortable around their family members which was the opposite for me. The wall inside the restaurant was painted with light emerald green and it brought serenity to the atmosphere which must have felt like home to most people. So, I sat on one of the tables that was supposed to be for couples. I sat and stared at the neatly folded napkin placed on the plate. I wondered how people can fold napkin so neatly. They must have grown in a perfect, comfortable family. If I were to fold a napkin, it would look just like my horrible family. A waiter came to me and placed a menu on the table.

“Welcome,” greeted the waiter. I turned my head and looked at the waiter. He wore a smile, a warm smile that was rare for me to see. Our eyes met and there they were, the eyes that sent me hope. I stared at him but he gave me a worried look.

“Miss, are you okay? Do you need to go to the washroom? You can dry yourself before ordering,” he suggested.

Why was he being nice to me? I continued staring at him. I imagined, him and I together. Is he capable of loving me? Can he love me without abusing me? To be honest, I lost trust in men especially my father.

“Excuse me, miss? I don’t think you will be able to eat in this condition. Would you like to get changed, if you don’t mind wearing my clothes?” he asked.

I snapped back to reality where he was the waiter and I was just a customer. I thought about his intention towards me but I was cold from my soaked clothes and the air conditioning was making it worse so I nodded.

I followed him into the staff room and half the people peered at me. The waiter ignored them and went to his locker behind the kitchen. He took out his sweatshirt and a pair of tracksuit bottom.

“Sorry. There are no female workers in here and this is the only clothes I have,” he said. I looked at him and took the clothes.

He showed me the way to the washroom and he asked before I entered, “You’re not going to take off your jacket first? It will be easier to change. You can give it to me and I’ll dry it for you so you can wear it again when you head back home,” he said, pointing at my jacket. I shook my head. If it wasn’t for the bruises, I would have taken it off the moment I entered the restaurant and trust me, I never want to go back home. Ever.

It was a relief that he did not ask for the second time. I went to the washroom and locked the door. I took off my jacket slowly and then my shirt and pants even slower. I was careful not to grunt. He might hear me. I took a look at my bruises. I wanted to cry and shout my lungs out but I restrained myself. My father, he did this to me. I will never forgive him.

While putting on the clothes, I realized that his clothes smelled nice and clean. I unlocked the door and threw my shirt and pants inside the rubbish bin because I was disgusted by the clothes my father bought me. The jacket was the only piece I brought out of the washroom and I saw the waiter leaning on the wall, kicking air under his feet. I stood in front of him and handed him my jacket.

“You want me to dry them?” he asked and not even noticing that I threw my clothes away. I nodded. I had to dry my jacket before going out of the restaurant. I was not entirely sure if I was going to sleep under a roof. I might be sleeping under a tunnel but there was no guarantee.

He grinned and took them. I saw him taking a hair dryer out of his locker and he plugged it into a socket next to the rows of lockers. He sat and the hair dryer and started drying my jacket. I started staring at his face again. There was something about him that soothed me. After drying the left sleeve of my jacket, he looked at me and smiled. I tried to return the smile but I ended up placing my head down. He finished drying the jacket and gave it back to me.

“Thank you,” I finally spoke.

“So you do speak?” he teased. “Sure, no problem,” he smiled yet again. I was determined to respond to his hospitality and finally I felt myself smiling. It has been ages since my lips lifted itself to form a smile and express joy.

“Do you want to dry your hair?” he handed me the hair dryer but I declined. “It’s fine. I’ll let it dry by itself,” I told him.

“So, are you ordering anything? The head chief is asking for me,” he said. At the beginning, I didn’t come to the restaurant to order food, not exactly but he was such a nice person and I was about to nod when I d for money in my pocket and realised that I was wearing a different pants. Damn it.

I shook my head.

“Sorry,” I apologised.

“No, it’s okay. You can exit through the back door so the head chief won’t see you,” he shrugged.

I walked to the back door and turned the knob. I turned my head to the waiter and gave a bow. I went outside and wore my jacket over the sweatshirt. I saw a bus stop across the restaurant and decided to sit there for awhile. Fortunately, the rain stopped. I walked to the bus stop and sat. After awhile, I heard a girl yelling.

“I did not cheat on you!” shouted the girl to a boy–the waiter.

“I saw you kissing another guy. A few times. So don’t you dare lie to me!” he raised his voice. All the warm things about him disappeared. I could tell that he was really mad. The girl sobbed and slapped him across the face which made me gasped. The waiter held his left cheek and glared at the girl but he didn’t make any move. His hands stayed in place until the girl walked away and swung his arms out of frustrations. The fact that he didn’t hit the girl back surprised me. Perhaps, my perceptions about men was wrong because there was people who wasn’t like my father. Everyone in the restaurant saw the girl slapping the waiter and out of the blue it made me wondered, have my mom slapped my father before she died? Did she had a chance before my father started hitting her?

The waiter stood outside the restaurant and pondered whether to go back inside. I was hoping that he did not see me but apparently he did. He saw me. He came and decided to ignore his co-workers that were calling him from behind and sat beside me. I could see that he was still infuriated.

“You’re taking the bus?” he asked, trying to smile. I shook my head.

“Then?”

“Just sitting,” I said.

“You saw the girl and I fight, didn’t you?” I nodded and he sighed. The grey bench that both of us were sitting on was quite lengthy but the waiter sat just a quarter metre away from me but I shifted a little bit to the side. We just sat and stared at the passing vehicles. For a second, I regretted shifting away from him because I felt secure by his side. All the pain from my bruises disappeared. I hate to believe this but it felt like magic.

Few minutes later, it started raining again. He lent out his hand to feel the rain.

“You try it too,” he turned to me.

I was hesitant about it at first but I lent out my hand anyway. Somehow, the two layers of clothes’ sleeves I was wearing weren’t long enough to hide the bruises  that covered my right forearm.

“What’s that on your wrist?” I quickly pulled my sleeve down as if he was going to forget about it.

“Nothing,” I denied.

“There’s nothing to hide. My mom used to have them too and I know exactly what it is,” he said. “You know, I could have saved her from my dad but I was a coward. I should be the one who is dead by now instead of her,” he held his tears and turned away. 

I never expected that we had the same story, the same past. It was the way he smiled at me that shielded all the pain. It was impossible to see any pain behind those smiles.

“After my mom died, I ran from home and never came back. Here I am, supporting myself with the little money I have,” he said.

“You’re lucky,” I replied. He was perplexed.

“Why?”

“Because you ran away from home. I was stupid enough to stay with my father after my mother’s death. I thought he would change after she died but I was wrong. I was her replacement‚” I told him. 

Funny that the first person to know about me was the person who had the same story. It went silent for quite awhile. Probably because we were busy thinking about our own painful memories. Then, he stood up when the rain stopped.

“I’m going to get changed. Wait for me,” he said. He started walking and he turned around after a few steps.

“What’s your name?”

“Mireo,” I responded.

“Daehyun,” he pointed to himself and smiled. The Sun was up again after raining for 10 minutes but the warmth in him that made me believe the weather was sunny again.

He continued walking and I waited.

He came back riding an underbone motorcycle. I recalled what he had said, “Supporting myself with little money I have.” He must have worked hard to buy the motorcycle.

“Hop on,” he offered.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“The clinic. You’re not going to let your hands rot, are you?” he joked. I smiled.

I put on the helmet and got on the motorcycle. I used to walk to school. No car, not even a bicycle. I hugged him tightly, scared that I might fall.

After going to the clinic, we headed to his house which was a small apartment. When I entered, it smelled nice and clean like his clothes and it was really neat too. I realized then, you do not have to be in a perfect, comfortable family to live a normal life. It’s your decision to choose the way you live.

I timidly sat on the couch in his tiny living room that was connected to his kitchen and he sat next to me with the cream that the doctor prescribed.

“Let me do it,” he said. I just nodded. He slowly pulled my sleeves up and my bruises appeared one by one.

“Imagine what will happen if I didn’t tell you about my mom. Your hands will start to rot by now,” he joked again.

I stared at him yet again and this time I felt like he could be mine. My heart beats fast but it gave me comfort. I told him about not wanting to go back home ever again and he said that I can live with him. He said he would do anything to support me. 

That night, after sharing stories and conversations, we kissed. I had a feeling of pleasure and happiness that I missed out on all this while.

After living with him, my bruises started vanishing. It may be the doctor’s cream but I think it was the charm from Daehyun which made me hope for a better future and live my life the way my mother would have wanted; a life filled with happiness.