liii. Circles II

“You look beautiful.”

Hongbin chanted to you, lips smiling. Helping you put on the Wolfsbane necklace without another word, it was the first time you’d heard him stay silent for so long. He’d always seem to be laughing, even this morning at breakfast: a meal himself and Ravi attended. A spread Hakyeon’s own parents weren’t there to enjoy. 

Ravi blamed it on business. Hakyeon didn’t seem to let it bother him. Hongbin was just smiling.

“But white?” 

You questioned the choice of dress Hakyeon’d had a seamstress fit to you yesterday afternoon. Blue or red seemed more fitting. Black, even. Gray, even better. None of these apparently as thin, white, delicate lace hung from your shoulders, threatening to tear at the tiniest of tugs. At the slightest of touches, Hongbin’s hand landing firmly on your shoulder.

“Hakyeon’s got a thing for symbols.” 

And his lips were smiling, while his eyes were doing anything but.

The Chas have a Family Reunion every year during the summer. Not a single family member is to ignore the three-night-long event. Doing so is a show of disloyalty and discourages the effort to strengthen familial bonds. There’s no punishment for it, should you consider complete and utter social isolation a minor challenge to overcome — as Ravi explained dishearteningly.

The affair itself is large, taking place at the home of rotating members of the family. The decorations are extravagant. Formal attire is the dress code. Suits and elegant gowns would be abound, as common as trees in a forest. This year, the gala was being held at Hakyeon’s cousin’s home: Hyuk, as he fondly informed you. 

Reminiscing upon the Mayor’s past celebrations, you couldn’t help the unenthusiastic expression you sported as you walked by Hakyeon’s side, arm hooked through his. The whispers were obvious, as well as the many pairs of eyes that stopped to watch as you entered the living room. Ages ranged from near the end of life to the very beginning, children rushing past you in an eager game of tag as their parents yelled at them from afar. Wrist jingling as you grasped down onto his forearm, you succeeded in getting his attention. 

“The last thing you should be is nervous.” Hakyeon assured you, usual head of feathers coiffed upwards by a glossy variety of hair products. Black tie perfectly straight, his smile proved crooked, “These people have been waiting for you.”

“You didn’t tell them I was your girlfriend or something, did you?” You used sarcasm to dispel your unease in such a familiarly unfamiliar situation — though your question itself was serious.

“I may have.” Was his reply, yet he avoided yet another punch with a witty, “But a man can dream, can’t he?”

“Hakyeon!” What sounded like an older woman’s voice called out to him. He dragged you towards the origin of the noise, answering the call quickly. He even greeted the stranger, who you then learned to be his aunt. And it was, even though minuscule, quite the site to witness: Hakyeon being both punctual and respectful.

“Aunty, I’d like you to meet the ever elusive Song Hyunjoo.”

The woman, graying hair a short bob that framed her round face, laughed heartily, “Though it seems she’s not as difficult to catch as we all originally assumed. A pity your parents aren’t here to congratulate you, Hakyeon.”

The word “caught” and its connotations aside, you managed a response of, “I would say its nice to meet you as well, though I’m not sure whether I should be happy about all this recognition I’m getting quite yet.” 

She nodded, seeming to understand, perhaps misconstruing the situation completely, “You’ll get used to it in due time. After all, we’re all family here.”

You wanted to ask what she meant. To interrogate her for her confusing insinuations. To at the very least stick around a bit longer before you were dragged onto the next relative. Hakyeon’s aunt’s in-laws, apparently.

They were stricter and straighter than sticks judging from the way they constantly complained about how the their daughter-in-law’s children were running around. They’re the type of couple who subvert their frustration towards one another through constantly judging everyone else, even their own grandchildren, according to Hakyeon. 

Then, there was his Uncle, unmarried and apparently more than happy to be. Widowed in his early thirties, two twins with identical smiles talked to themselves at the feet of where he sat on the front porch. He’s a lonely man with devil-like children, Hakyeon spitefully whispered as we reentered the house, throwing glares at the twins for crimes you couldn’t even begin to wonder upon.

He even had a same-age cousin on his father’s side with long, flowing black hair and a pair of stunning blue eyes. Greeting you half-heartedly, her eyes didn't stay on yours for more than a second. She looked both bored and depressed at the same time. She was snatched away by the children who insisted she play with them, no one else approaching her the entire night. A man-chaser with a bad habit of caring too much, Hakyeon shrugged as though he could care less.

And the one thing you couldn’t stop thinking about, through all the introductions and greetings, was the fact that this wasn’t just Hakyeon’s family.

It was Myungsoo’s, too.

Myungsoo’s cheerful aunt who mothered three energetic little boys. Myungsoo’s cynical, forever unsatisfied grandparents-in-law: a term you pondered while you munched down on an oatmeal cookie right out of the oven. Myungsoo’s lonely uncle too broken to mind much after his own children’s activities. Myungsoo’s cousin with a weakness to children and the word “love.” 

Yet, Myungsoo wasn’t here.

Wondering why would be a fruitless struggle, so you gave it up for the time being.

Able to obtain a moment’s respite from all the countless relatives in the foyer, Hakyeon suddenly stiffened in your grasp. Following his frozen eyes, you caught sight of what he did instantly. A single boy, older in looks than both he and you, near the entrance to the large home. 

“Name and title?” You jested, attempting to rouse him from whatever mood he’d shifted into at the sight of the taller boy.

“Ken.” He answered, not gracing you with his gaze, “He was my closest friend until about a year ago.” 

“You don’t say?” You looked to the now named stranger once more, finding him to be looking right back, “He’s looking over here like he’d gratefully indulge in the pleasure of ripping out your still beating heart from your chest.”

“You’ve got quite the morbid mind, don’t you?” Hakyeon’s shoulders finally relaxed, a single laugh bubbling from his throat, “I’m not saying I don’t like it though.” You scoffed as he continued, not expecting his next words so much you choked on it, “But, yes, he would. His rage is all understandable though. His fiancé wanted to break off their wedding under the claim that she was madly in love with me.”

Hakyeon shrugged again, his cares lying in a place you couldn’t name.

“Again, all understandable.” Unable to tell if he was joking, you opened your mouth to cast doubt on his unbelievable story, only to have him professing, practically spilling out, like a water hydrant with its top loose, “My title makes women fall for me within mere seconds of learning my last name. She was a pretty little thing though. The princess type.” 

Remembering how Minah used to be almost an entire year ago, you made a face. 

A face that pulled another laugh from him, “My sentiments exactly. She wasn’t my type anyway. I told him this but, of course, he didn’t take her rejection all too well. He blamed me for the birthright I didn’t ask for and he’s been at my throat ever since. Suffice it to say he doesn’t consider me his ‘best friend’ anymore.” 

Shrugging for the third time, he turned away from the boy named Ken.

“And I don’t see a reason to hold on to someone who doesn’t cling back.”

You frowned, “To want them to ‘cling’ to you is a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“No.” Shaking his head, he said, “Not at all.”

Shaking off his own blatant naivety regarding human relationships, you decided to see exactly how much water he’d stored up for the past year, “You say she ‘was’ pretty. Did something happen to her?”

“After she used my name as an excuse to brush off the marriage she was intended to have upon birth, by her own birthright, she ran away with an impure lover.” Rolling his eyes, he exaggeratedly gestured, saying, “Naturally, her parents panicked to fix their relationship with Ken’s family and my own. Ken, on the other hand, chased after her. And while I don’t know the details, I did see the aftermath. Judging from the scars on her face, a man scorned is not one to be reckoned with either.”

You stayed quiet, saying nothing in return, as you watched him mime claws tearing the left side of his face with his free hand. Even he seemed lost in the action, distaste coloring him unimpressed. Upon noticing your horror, he clarified himself in an instant. 

“Whether he did it, whether her lover did it, whether it was on purpose or an accident, I don’t know. Whether or not he really will rip my throat out in the future for being what he calls an ‘arrogant bastard with no regard for the lives of others,’ I can say without doubt that he will.”

You managed to find your voice upon clearing away the lump of guilt in your throat — as though, for whatever reason, you felt the need to take responsibility for Hakyeon’s past actions.

“You say that like you’re looking forward to it.”

“Am I looking forward to the moment in which my best friend is the one who deals the final blow, the killing strike, against me? Of course I am. I welcome it, as I’d rather die by a familiar hand than by an unfamiliar’s act of vengeance.” 

Shrugging yourself, you sighed, “That’s one way of looking at it.”

“You’re learning.” He smiled. “That’s good.”

“Though have you tried telling all of this to Ken himself?”

“You’re still holding onto hope.” He frowned. “That’s bad.”

“What’s wrong with hope?”

“It’s petty and cheap. It fails ninety percent of the time. It doesn’t care for the context or the situation. It’s ignorant and naive.”

“Yet another way of looking at things.” 

“Why don’t you just hurry up and admit I’m right?” He pleaded, tugging on your arm playfully.

“Because ninety percent of the time, you’re wrong.”

“Our banter never fails to entertain me. Thank you for that.” 

After being used to people either agreeing or giving into him for the past eighteen years of his life, you figured it was about time someone like yourself was here to knock some sense into his senselessly sense-filled head.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, only to frown.

Only to remain hung up on the statement made to you by Hakyeon’s uncle moments later, the encounter itself a blur but for those two harmless lines — your thoughts committing endless circles .

“Your father was a good mate of mine, Hyunjoo. Shame he couldn’t be here for the reunion.”

Last time you checked, Cha Hakyeon was a werewolf.