☆ Eighteenth Star

_________________________________

A week after the Instagram incident, Woohyun came over to meet my parents. He was wearing a grey shirt underneath his dark blazer and black pants because I happened to tell him that my mom liked plain fashion on men sometime ago. A rosy colour tinted his cheeks when I opened the door. He looked at me, leaned closer, but then stopped himself. A small yet sincere smile grazed his lips.

I let him enter and called out to my mother that Woohyun had arrived. We went to the kitchen to join her, and he immediately bowed and introduced himself as my boyfriend. It sounded almost foreign in his mouth. The word boyfriend. It had a different ring to it. As if reality hadn't been in sight before but was now dawning upon us.

“You kids sit in the living room, I’ll be preparing the food,” said my mom. Turning to me, she added, “Your dad won’t be back for lunch.”

And there was not a single hint of disappointment in her voice.

☆

We had a quick lunch because the phone rang in the middle of Woohyun’s story about his childhood, one I hadn’t known before, and it was a call from my grandmother. My mom quickly left the table to pick up the phone. When she disappeared from the dining room, Woohyun sighed out in relief.

“You okay?” I asked, amused.

He shook his head, his shoulders visibly relaxing now. “I’m scared of messing up.”

“You don’t need to,” I told him. “Even if my mother ends up not liking you at all, it won’t change anything between us.”

It brought a smile upon his face.

“Just be your usual self. Because your awkwardness makes me feel awkward, too.”

My mother came back after ten minutes or so, and told me that my grandmother had forgotten where her deaf aid was, so she had to call someone, literally just anyone, to assist her in ways that only my grandmother understood. I finished my food as Woohyun continued his story in all nervousness. He stumbled over a few words, but it only added to his amiability. 

Later that day Woohyun and I went to my room. We sat on the floor, our backs leaning against the bed frame, and he had his head placed onto my shoulder. From his phone, he let ‘Skinny Love’ by Bon Iver play in the background. I hummed along to the tune, my mind wandering around unreachable spaces. A yawn escaped my lips, and before I could put a hand over my mouth, Woohyun pointed at me and laughed.

“Look, you are contagious to my yawning.”

“Yawning is always contagious. It’s not like I’m only contagious to your yawning.”

He clicked his tongue, but said nothing more. Then: “Your mom's pretty cool about us being alone in your room with the doors closed.”

“Why, is there anything here not to be cool about?”

“You don’t think something could happen?” he asked, sitting up to look at me. “Between us. You don’t think I could do something to you?”

“What could you do to me?”

“It’s a just a hypothetical question.”

“I know,” I said, eyes fixed on the floor. “But I also know you wouldn’t do anything I don’t like.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t.”

“But that makes me wonder whether you really know what I like.”

From my periphery, I saw Woohyun turning his body towards me. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, for example,” I began, trying to wrap my head around the things that had been bothering me for a while, “do you really tell me everything? Or do you keep stuff to yourself because you think I wouldn’t like it?”

“What kind of things?”

“I mean, that’s understandable. I don’t tell you everything either. So it’s okay.”

“Wait a second, Anjell,” he said, grabbing my shoulders to make me face him, “did I do something to make you upset?”

I lifted my eyes to his. “No, you didn’t. I’m not upset. I mean, I don’t know.” He let go of my arms. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

“What happened?” An English song I didn’t know was now playing between us. Woohyun took his phone and lowered the volume. Then he looked back at me, concern written across his eyes. “We can be honest with each other. Only then can this relationship work. You need to tell me when something about me bothers you.”

“Iㅡ“ The words were stuck in my throat. A hard lump I could neither swallow nor spit out.

“I won’t get angry, I can take it. Just be honest.”

I sighed. Photos of Woohyun on that Instagram account emerged from the several other memories of mine, pushing their way up to the top, and so I decided to be honest. To him. To myself.

“I just wonder sometimes whether you trust me enough. Because I wouldn’t trust myself either, and I don’t think I fully trust you either. I mean, I like you. And I would love to completely trust someone, to unbuckle the seatbelt at 99 miles per hour or to put an apple on my head and blindfold my eyes, trusting you to not hit my forehead with the arrow. I would love to do that. But I can’t even completely trust my parents, so I don’t think there is something wrong with you. It’s me. There’s something wrong with me.” I took a deep breath. “I just wonder sometimes. Whether others trust their loved ones completely or whether they are just like me, unable to fully be committed.”

Only after I looked back at Woohyun, did I realise how close he was to me. His body was almost hovering over mine, the golden specks in his iris standing out under his dark fringe. He just stared at me.

“I don’t think trust has anything to do with commitment. At least not in my definition.” He turned off the music. “If being committed means you trust completely, then I’m probably only committed to myself. And that’s not true. I’m certain I’m committed to you. This is not a game for me or some entertainment to pass my time. I’m serious with you, Anjell. But just like you said, I don’t trust you completely.” Woohyun grabbed my hand gently. “I believe there are certain degrees to trusting someone. Of course I trust you to not willingly hurt me or break my heart. I trust you to be a good and genuine person. And I trust you to not go off and flirt with some other guy.”

“Of course I wouldn’t do that,” I said, amused.

“The thing is, you have to keep some of the trust to yourself. If you trust someone completely, you’re going to live a more carefree life, for sure, but with that comes a great risk of breaking. A great deal of pain when your trust is broken. I can’t trust anyone completely. I can’t trust you to love me forever. I can’t trust you to only think about me. That’s just me being realistic here. I’m sure that’s how you feel too, right?”

I said nothing.

“So tell me, Anjell, what have I not told you that someone else had tell you about?” he asked. “Behind my back, that is.”

“I just saw photos of you on Instagram.”

“Was it Sunggyu?” asked Woohyun. Then, as if my words had finally registered in him, he repeated, “Instagram?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t even have that.”

“One of your classmates.”

“Mir?”

“No, a girl.”

“A girl?”

I nodded, avoiding his eyes. “She posted pictures of you taking a nap in class. And I kind of wondered why you never told me how tired you were because of uni.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Stupid!” I playfully slapped his cheek. He only leaned closer.

“I have nothing to hide from my girlfriend. Whoever posted those pictures of me must be secretly crushing on me, but everyone in my class, no, in my uni, knows I am happily taken by this person here.” He pointed at me. “And I’m sure those weren’t pictures of me kissing anyone or hugging someone intimately. So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Stupid idiot.”

He smirked then, and I knew immediately something weird was going to escape his lips. “I appreciate your jealousy though.”

There it was. The weird thing.

☆

At uni I met a girl who was really into make-up and beauty. Her name was Mijoo and the first thing you noticed about her was her wide and pretty smile. Without doubts, she was one of the brightest and prettiest girl I had ever seen. There was this certain vibe around her, a certain kind of amiability, the kind of vibe that makes you like someone immediately, so when you first met her, you would take an instant liking to her. She would have this effect on you (not on me). Neither was she necessarily nice nor outrageously kind. She liked complimenting people with insults, joking around without feeling ashamed or bad, but you still liked her because she never meant harm. She would say things without meaning them, and you would always know she didn’t do those things to hurt you. It was her way to connect with people. And everyone silently agreed that her behaviour was acceptable.

We started hitting off with some efforts when she came late to class one day and sat down next to my seat. She apologised to the teacher with a cheeky smile, as if she didn’t wholeheartedly mean it, and asked me whether she could sit next to me. I didn’t know how to respond with a no, so I said yes. She shamelessly borrowed my books for the rest of the class, even wrote notes onto them with a pencil, and at the end of the lesson I had enough of that pretty girl with that pretty but cheeky smile. I couldn’t handle that type of a person, so I stood up as soon as the class finished and walked out the room. Later I noticed she scribbled her number onto one of the pages and asked me whether she could be my friend. I didn’t know how to handle that either, so I did nothing about it.

A few days later she sat next to me again, but brought her own books. After class she (literally) poked my arm and asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

It was odd for a stranger to ask me this after having drawn onto my text books, but I found myself answering her anyways. “Yeah.”

“Oh, . What a pity.” She pursed her orange lips. “My friend saw you on campus and blackmailed me to ask you for your number.”

“Uh, okay.”

“He’s not handsome anyways. My friend. He is actually on the uglier side. With glasses and small eyes.” She squinted her own eyes to support her point. “And he is obsessed with girl groups. A weirdo.”

“Uh-huh.”

“My name is Mijoo. And I suppose you don’t want to know my friend’s name.”

I chuckled at that. “Nope, I don’t.”

“His name is actually ugly, too, if you think about it.”

“You shouldn’t say that behind his back.”

She waved me away nonchalantly. “I always tell him to the face. He doesn’t care.”

“I’m Anjell,” I said, thinking it was appropriate to introduce myself.

“Wow, that’s a cool name. I wished my parents had given me a cool name.”

“I like your name,” I told her honestly. “It suits you.”

“My friend’s name is Hobak and it suits him too.”

At that point I couldn’t stop laughing anymore.

☆

One day I told Mijoo that I needed a part-time job, partly to earn myself some money and mostly because Woohyun himself became so busy with his work and studies that I needed to do something else besides staying home. Mijoo suggested me her mother’s beauty shop that needed student workers at the weekend. She told me that my job would be to sell goods, assist the customers and know the products well. I went there for an interview and was hired that same day. Luck was on my side. That weekend I had my first day at work.

“You’ll be fine. I know you’ll amaze everyone with your natural talent,” said Woohyun over the phone.

“You’ll be fine because I’ll be there, too,” said Mijoo with her cheeky grin.

Amazingly Mijoo’s encouragement dismissed my worries more than Woohyun’s did.

The beauty shop was situated in the Metro Centre, right next to the escalator on the second floor. The sign was lit in a bright lavender colour, forming the letters: LIEBLING. From Mijoo I learned that it was the German word for darling or baby. Upon entering there were different sizes of shelves put side by side, each one of them with a theme. On the far left, for example, it was all about the scent of strawberry. There were strawberry-scented lotion, shampoo, face masks, hand creams, body sprays and soaps. Next to it was the shelf for young women. Colourful packagings with bubbly fonts. Bright lipsticks (the typical orange one on Mijoo’s lips was from that aisle, she told me) and eccentric eyeshadows. Everything a female student desired.

“If you love me, you’ll definitely love Jieun, too.”

I followed Mijoo to the staff room where two women were changing. One of them was kind of short and had full bangs. The mole under her lower lip caught my attention, and she smiled at me when she saw a new face, introducing herself as Baby Soul. I didn’t ask further.

The other woman was not particularly pretty, unlike the Baby Soul girl, but she had something charming about her. Something that was hard to pinpoint. Almost like invisible make-up. Instead of for your face, it was make-up for your personality. Something that enhanced the overall likability.

“Hi, I’m Jieun, and I don’t like shaking hands,” she said just as I was reaching out my hand to her. I slowly lowered it, feeling awkward, but she then grab it, and smiled. “I was just joking, Liebling.”

Later I found out three things. First, Jieun was actually the manager of the beauty store. She took care of most things. When problems arose, we would immediately go to her. Mijoo’s mother might have been the owner, but Jieun was the one managing everything happening in the actual store. Second, Baby Soul never told anyone her real name. I’m sure Jieun or Mijoo’s mother knew it when she first applied for the job, but no one once bothered inviting me to their circle of knowing Baby Soul’s real name. Maybe she didn’t like her real name, or maybe she just preferred being called Baby Soul. Or maybe she was on the run, hiding from people who were following her. So she took on a new identity. Everything was possible. Lastly, Jieun was Kim Sunggyu’s older sister.

I happened to find out about it when Mijoo asked Jieun, “What’s your brother doing now after he got rejected by his dream university?”

I turned to my manager, and asked, “You have a brother?”

“Yeah, Sunggyu.” Then, to Mijoo, she said, “He’s currently being a miserable , money out of me like a blowfish.”

“So your brother’s name is Sunggyu?” I repeated, thinking about that one particular classmate of mine.

“A blowfish,” repeated Mijoo, chuckling. “Such a typical lazy .”

“Well, jokes aside, he’s trying to find a job right now. I suggested him to come and help out here at weekends, but he refused. I wonder why.” 

“Your family name is Kim, right?" I was getting excited. "Can I see a photo of him?”

“Hey, you said you have a boyfriend. Don’t look at other guys when you’re already dating someone,” said Mijoo. “Besides you never showed me a picture of that boyfriend of yours, who ruined all chances of Hobak having a go with you.”

Jieun looked at Mijoo, then back at me. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Show us a picture of your boyfriend, and I’ll show you a picture of my brother in return.”

“I don’t think there will be any need to show you once you’ve showed me a picture of Kim Sunggyu.”

“You make it sound like you know him,” Mijoo pointed out.

“Maybe I do.”

So they showed me the picture and of course it was that Kim Sunggyu and it got me all excited because now I had a reason to finally go ahead and get in contact with him without sounding stupid or desperate. Now I had a reason to go back and fix friendships I couldn’t fix in the past. Now was the time in which the opportunity of getting a piece of my high school back into my life presented itself. Now was the time to live for myself.

☆

After that day at work, I didn’t try getting in touch with Sunggyu. Not that I didn’t want to or that I was scared of looking stupid in front of him. The opportunity just didn’t show itself again. More urgent things sneakingly crawled their way onto the top of my priority list. I could do nothing about them.

For instance, Woohyun and I hadn’t seen each other for weeks and without us realising, it was the end of April already. Spring was blooming. The sun and the clouds developed a healthy relationship with each other, neither one trying to block the other. And I missed him.

I missed Woohyun, and I found myself thinking about him a lot. During work. At uni. In bed. Mijoo told me that I should just go to his house and, I’m quoting here, ‘kiss the hell out of him’, but I couldn’t do it. Not when I knew he was always tired and sleepy. I couldn’t bring myself to steal the hours he could use for sleep just so I could be with him.

Mijoo said I had a messed up (I changed the word to the more appropriate version) way of thinking.

I told her to shut up.

The other thing was, I hadn’t seen my father for ages. He had been working overtime lately, and I didn’t get the chance to even greet him in the morning. Most of the time we would miss each other. When he was home, I would be at work or in my class. When he came back from the company, I would be in my bed, sleeping. We constantly passed each other without grasping how long it had been since I had last talked to my father.

Now in my room, I tried reading text books for my essay, but it was hard to concentrate when other things were swirling in my head, like annoying flies in summer. Occasionally Mijoo would text me, asking about homework. I would tap my pencil against the notepad. The rhythmic sound keeping me sane. But concentration was still not on my side. Lingering too far to reach. Then my phone rang. It was Woohyun.

“Hey, what are you doing right now?” he asked.

“Nothing much. Tapping my pencil. You?”

“Missing my girlfriend.”

“Stupid,” I remarked, smiling.

“So you’re home right now?”

“Yeah.”

“In your room?”

“Where else?”

“And your mom?”

“Not home.”

“Let me in then.”

“Sure.”

Woohyun chuckled. “No, really, Anjell. Let me in. I know the sun is out right now and we should be going to a park or something.” He made a small pause. “But right now I just wanna be with my girlfriend, take her into my arms and be a good boyfriend.”

I silently walked to my parents’ bedroom from which you could see the door to the house. “And you can’t do all of that at a park?”

“Not when I intend to do the stuff I am determined to do.”

There he was. Standing outside with the phone pressed against his ear. One hand shoved into the pockets of his jeans. A few strands of hair catching the rays of the sun.

There he was.

Woohyun.

The guy I like.

I hung up and ran to the door, opening it with one swing. He looked at me with a smile. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him down to me. His lips found mine as if they had been waiting to do this for so long. We kissed a little before he pulled back and asked, “Your mom’s surely not home?”

“I wouldn’t have done that if she were.”

“, I see.”

I lowered my arms from his neck. “Stupid. So why are you here?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I never said that.”

He laughed. “I just love teasing you so much.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I grabbed the first opportunity to see you.”

Chuckling, I said, “Fair enough.”

Now it was my time to kiss him.

☆

We cuddled for the rest of the afternoon, talking about irrelevant things, issues that didn’t matter, about Mir, about Mijoo, about Boohyun and Nurungie, his grandparents, about my parents, my mom, about uni. We talked about my job. We talked about his group project. We pretty much had a chill afternoon untilㅡ

Until my phone vibrated, and Woohyun happened to see the message from Sungjong: Weird thing happened today. Hyomin came to me and asked whether I’m still in touch with you.

And I was so taken aback that I was unable to keep my calm and disguise my tremor when Woohyun finally asked me about her.