Chapter 21: Importance

When did you become so important to me?

It’s a burning question - one that I ask myself quietly in the moments of epiphanies. Tiffany has been giving me a lot of those lately. Epiphanies, that is.

Her smile is dimmer than usual, cranked down a few hundred watts - my insides hurt knowing that it’s probably because of me.

“It’s nice to see that you’re here on time.” She says, leaning her head against the doorframe.

I grip tightly onto the damp paintbrushes in my hand. “Yeah…” I look down into the sink, clogged with dried oil paint and dirty, art-ridden sponges. “I’m in enough trouble as it is….”

“Well,” She stands up properly, unfolding her arms. “This is a good start. Has Mrs Chun told you what you’ve to do?”

I nod, glancing at her as she steps away from the door, out into the empty school corridor. “Okay. I’m just going to go have a chat with her. I won’t be long. Just finish what you need to do and then I’ll give you a ride home.”

Her footsteps echo further away and I fight the urge to run to the door, call out her name and tell her that I’m sorry.

I fight the urge because the truth is scary.

I dunk the paintbrushes into a basin of lukewarm water and washing up liquid, and watch as the solution clouds up, the smoke of mixed colours fanning out into the tainted water.

The Persistence of Memory, one of Dali’s most famous works. My heart twists and throat tightens at the thought of it. Dripping clock faces and the steady expanding pool of my mother’s blood…

It’s your fault. All of it is your fault.

I bite down on my lip, and look around the art base, quiet and still. If I strain my ears hard enough I can hear the distinct hum of Tiffany’s voice through the thick walls.

I close my eyes and breathe deep, trying to block out my own taunting thoughts that have been getting louder as years go by.

Dripping, draped clock faces that watched the three of us die.

I tighten my fist.

My mother had always valued paintbrushes the most out of all creative tools. I look down and see the one I’m holding broken, snapped at my own hand. How disappointed she would be.

* * *

Where are your parents? Dead.

Sooyoung? Ashamed and disappointed.

Jessica? Out chasing a dream that I’ll never be part of.

Tiffany? Well…

“And…” The car comes to a gentle stop outside the orphanage. The day is fading into night. “Here we are.” There’s a tired smile in her voice.

The car falls into a slumber. We sit quietly for a moment.

“What did Mrs Chun say?”

Tiffany’s hands drop from the steering wheel and into her lap. “Mrs Chun?”

I nod, deciding to look over at her. I find her gazing at me under the yellowish glow of the car’s overhead light with something gentle and soft in her eyes.

My heart stills.

“She said that you produce her favourite work. She’s never had a student like you before.” There is sincerity in her tone, like there always is. “You work very hard in her class, so she was surprised when you suddenly walked out.”

“I know.” I say, pulling away from her eyes, threading and unthreading my fingers. The car feels too small. “Uhm…” I put my hand on the door handle, not liking the silence. “Thanks for the ride-“

Tiffany stops me from leaving by saying my name, placing a secure hand on the crook of my elbow.

I look back at her.

“Just…wait a minute…I wanted to ask you something.”

As I settle back into my seat, she leans over and swipes her bag from by my feet. I watch quietly as she rummages for a moment before pulling out a folded up flyer. She unfolds it before placing it in my hand.

Octo-land.

“A theme park?” I ask her, looking at the octopus caricature winding its tentacles through the block white letters making up the park’s name.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind, so I thought it’d be nice to get away for a day or a half.” She seems to look at me cautiously before adding, “Plus it’s near the beach and I know you like beaches.” 

I stare at the images of laughing children and cartoon creatures, spinning and speeding on rollercoasters.

“Do you want me to be really honest?” She voices when I don’t respond.

I look at her.

“I’ve been stressed too lately. And, Taeyeon…you’re the only person who makes me feel truly calm.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

We seem to stare at each other. She gauges my reaction, and I look down at the flyer, considering all the smiling faces photoshopped into the background.

“I’ve never been to a theme park in a long time.” I tell her.

Tiffany is quiet, watching the side of my face. “Then lets go. Let me take you.”

Somehow those words affect me, in one way or another. Tiffany gives me strange feelings that I don’t know how to cope with, but for some reason, I’m very thankful for it all.

“Taeyeon…?”

I focus in again on her voice and look at her. “Uh, yeah?”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

She sighs when I stare at her blankly.

“I said I’d talk to Sooyoung about it for you.”

“Oh…sorry…I was just…-“

“It’s okay.” Her smile is small.

“Thanks.” I clear my throat.

Where are your parents? Dead.

Sooyoung? Ashamed and disappointed.

Jessica? Out chasing a dream that I’ll never be part of.

Tiffany...? Well…I don’t know.

* * *

TIFFANY’S POV

Taeyeon’s fingers slip through mine. I stare at the back of her head as she tugs me gently through the crowd, toward the steps leading down to the beach.

Her skin is foreign…comfortable against mine. I nearly drop the bottle of ice water in my hand when we emerge from the rivulets of people and she looks back at me.

Her eyes skim down to our hands. She makes effort to untangle her fingers from mine, wiping her palm down her t-shirt nervously.

“Sorry…I just…uhm…I just didn’t want to lose you.”

I smile, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” We descend down the stone steps to the considerably quiet beach. She follows me wordlessly as I decide on a patch of sand not t