☆ Ninth Star

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After that day, three out of five things went wrong in my life the following week. The first belonged to the other two, to the ones that actually went right, and it involved my test in Biology. My teacher had announced out of the blue that he was going to check our knowledge regarding how ATP works in cells, whether we had listened well, and I was able to ace the test because of Sunggyu who had been so nice to study with me during the gathering at Myungsoo’s place. I was somehow proud of myself for getting an A, for accomplishing something, and when I met Sunggyu during break that day, I told him how grateful I was for him, and he just smiled, being the charming guy he was.

I felt so good after the test result that I had almost forgotten about Woohyun and his cruel act of giving me the cold shoulder. We hadn’t spoken to each other since then, and he wouldn’t even look nor glance at me. We were basically like strangers. Only we weren’t, really. We knew each other well. I knew him, and he knew me, but he probably knew me better than I knew him. I wasn’t much of a puzzle to him, I think. Only he was this huge mystery I couldn’t solve.

Sometimes he would disappear off somewhere during break, and I would just follow him with my gaze until he was gone around the corner. For some reason, I always assumed that he would me meeting the girls from class 4, and saying - or thinking - that had some negative connotations I didn’t want to acknowledge. In one way or another, I told myself I would be fine without his presence in my life. Myungsoo and Sunggyu were there after all, talking to me whenever I felt lonely. But there was still something missing.

Once, during Mr. Jang’s class, I saw him talking with Bomi in my peripheral view, and they seemed to have sorted out all the misunderstandings and tension between each other, now engaging in lighthearted and casual conversations. They used to be lovers, but it seemed like this fact didn’t bother any of them. It actually looked like Bomi was replacing me, but I wouldn’t go as far as to declare such an assumption. Though, thinking that she might be stargazing with him at night, that he might call her whenever he had the urge to look at the stars, did make me feel even lonelier than I already was.

The two following events that happened the next day - it was a Saturday - belonged to the first kind, the ones that went wrong in my life. I was at home, cleaning my room because my father had directed his frustration with my mom towards me, which was itself already unfair. I had noticed it somehow, along the way, that my parents were fighting, but I was not aware of their reason. Married people, I realised, are always picking on flaws and getting annoyed at small things, finding pleasure in hurling hurtful remarks at one another. And married people who have kids try to act like nothing is wrong in front of their children, pretending to still be loving each other, although the latter always knows or has a gist of what is truly lying beneath the image of a perfect family.

My room wasn’t messy, to begin with. Granted, some clothes were draped over my chair and my study desk looked indeed hideous because of the preparation for the entrance exams, but it wasn’t too bad. Yet, my father even threatened me to throw everything that I cared about away if I didn’t start cleaning my room. So I did what I was told. Because I harboured attachment to some of my things.

I opened my closet, and properly hung my jackets on the rack, when a black cardigan nearby slipped from its coat hanger, and I had to bend down to pick it up. That was when I spotted a brown shoe box with my name scribbled onto it in the farthest corner. A pang of nostalgia hit me when I realised what it was and what it contained. It was a present from Howon.

We had reached our 100th day in our relationship back then, and although we both didn’t really like the whole idea of celebrating each others’ love on specific days, he still had prepared a gift for me. He wasn't romantic, nor had he always showered me with endless affection, but he was Howon, and he loved me in his own way, and that sometimes included making sure that I knew about his feelings. It sometimes meant he had to find an old shoe box and write my name onto it with a black marker.

I have an obsession with stars, even until this present day, and Howon knew about my passion, knew the little things that I enjoyed. So as a present he printed a picture of the starry universe and glued it onto the inside of the box, putting some photos of us and a necklace - which I couldn’t find anymore - into it. That was his present. Simple, but moving.

Howon was just like the present he had given me on our 100th day. From the outside, he looked simple, almost boring, the way that shoe box only had one colour, but if you opened his heart, if you just tried to get to know him better, you would realise how complex he was and how bright he could shine. He was kindhearted and considerate, and people misunderstood him. His parents misunderstood him. But he was Howon for me. There was always something new that I could learn about him; there was always something that would surprise me, sweep me off from my feet. Opening the box and looking at its content was like revisiting our past relationship; it was like looking at Howon.

Sitting there with the shoe box on my lap, letting the memories pool in from every side, I wondered just what he was doing right now, whether he was enjoying himself, whether he got along with the people from Busan. I wondered whether he was happy. When he left two years ago, we had promised each other not to keep in touch. We wanted to end the things between us on a happy note. We wanted to live separate lives, away from each others’ influences. We felt like it would be better for both of us. And yet, here I was, holding his present dear to my heart, being unable to throw it away.

And this really confused me.

The other bad thing had its preparation during grocery shopping. My mother had joined the bandwagon of directing the anger and frustration resulting from their fight on me, their daughter, and just randomly decided she needed frozen peas for tonight’s dinner. She called me downstairs, gave me money and a piece of note, in which “one package of frozen peas” was written on it, and sent me out to the supermarket a few blocks away. Not wanting to get on her bad side, I just did what I was told, pulling a hideous jacket over a plain grey T-shirt, not caring to wear a bra. After all, it wasn’t like I would actually meet someone I knew. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

When I entered the supermarket, and went to the frozen food aisle, grabbing a package of frozen peas and turning around in the direction of the check-out counter, I saw Hyomin sorting boxes of what seemed like cereals in one of the empty aisles. Her hair was short now, tied at the back of her neck. With her long and skinny arms, she reached up to place the box of cereal onto the shelve. She hadn’t changed much, was still the pretty girl with the cute smile. I hadn’t seen her since primary school, only on photos from my middle school classmates who had managed to get her year book. Like always, she was popular even among the guys in my class.

A tall male walked into the aisle, and asked her something. While she answered his inquiry, he only stared at her, taking in her proportional features. He pulled out his phone, and I think he was trying to get her number. I quickly left for the check-out counter, not wanting her to see me. It was nice to be able to make sure that she was fine, but I still couldn’t bring myself to talk to her. She was included in the memories I didn’t want to remember. And it was always better to avoid such things.

☆

The second good thing that happened to me was on a Monday afternoon at school. Mr. Jang, who was by far my favourite teacher, announced to us that he was going to marry his long-time girlfriend who came from the States next year. I liked him because he was funny and helpful. He was friendly to his students, and made the lessons interesting, turning boring subjects into exciting ones. And when he told us that he was going to become a husband, I was happy for him. I couldn’t imagine how much you have to love someone to make such a commitment, but I was happy. It was nice to know that for some people the world was still spinning the right away, in the right direction, that not everyone was living a pitiful life like me.

Because of his sudden announcement and him being the most chilled teacher I knew, we were allowed to spend the rest of his class on whatever we wanted. I, being the kind of obsessed girl I was, pulled out the book I had recently bought, which was about the mysteries of the galaxy. The cover showed the milky way, and I already got excited just by looking at it.

"As always,” said Sunggyu, who was sitting next to me, “you’d see Anjell reading  something about the stars." 

I nodded shamelessly, turning my head towards him. He looked amused, the way he shook his head. His friendly manners were showing because that was just Sunggyu being Sunggyu. He was always nice to me, to everyone, and I kind of admired him for that. He wasn’t the best-looking guy, but he was the most charming one. At least a third of the girls in my class must have once fallen for him over the period of being his classmate. It was just the kind of effect he had on people. Mesmerising everyone with his charms. 

I observed him a little more. He was looking in front, then suddenly turned back to whisper something into Myungsoo’s ear. They started laughing, and I kind of felt excluded from their insider joke. Sunggyu must have noticed that somehow because he motioned for me to come closer, and said, "I just told Myungsoo that Mr. Jang is currently texting his fiancee, which is why he is smiling like that.”

Curious, I glanced at my favourite teacher to confirm Sunggyu’s statement, and was surprised to find him grinning at something that he was hiding under his desk. It seemed logical to me as to why Sunggyu would assume that Mr. Jang was texting his soon-to-be wife because his whole attitude, and the vibe he was giving off, was telling us exactly that. I chuckled with them, turning my head to join their laughter, when I subconsciously spotted the two empty seats in the middle of the classroom, next to Sungyeol. 

Woohyun and Bomi weren’t there.

Eunji, who was sitting behind Sungyeol, raised her hand, and asked out of the blue, ”Mr. Jang, how did you propose to your girlfriend?"

He looked surprised by this sudden interview, and coughed slightly to hide his embarrassment. He looked at Eunji, and I could almost swear he was blushing a little. He said, "Well, I told our friend to invite her to dinner. And she was expecting that, a normal dinner, that is, until she found me sitting there at the table, a bouquet of her favourite flowers in my hand, a violin player behind me playing an instrumental version of her favourite song, and then I proposed.”

“Wow, that’s cheesy,” said Sungyeol, running his hands along his arms.

“No, that’s romantic,” Eunji chimed in. 

I hadn’t noticed it before, was too preoccupied with how Mr. Jang would answer Eunji’s question, but everyone was actually closely paying attention to the scene in front of them, stopping whatever they were doing to listen to the conversation. All my classmates had a grin on their lips, even if they found my favourite teacher’s proposal cringe-worthy. They seemed amused, maybe reserving some respect for his unoriginal idea, for actually performing it. And I just found it admirable to what extent Mr. Jang would go for his loved one. Even if it was embarrassing.

☆

A Thursday night, during a really tense and awkward dinner, my mom asked me why I wasn’t bringing friends over anymore. The last time Woohyun and the others had visited my place for studying or hanging out was a month ago. Not only did they stop going to my place, we also stopped meeting each other altogether. After the study session at Myungsoo’s house, it seemed like we were all too busy with our own lives, our own problems. And sometimes it almost seemed like they had noticed that Woohyun and I weren’t talking anymore, and they just didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Sometimes it seemed to me that they were purposely not mentioning a meet up because they knew we would be too wary of each others’ presence. I highly doubted that though.

"I miss that Myungsoo guy,” said my mother. “He was always so friendly.”

I nodded absentmindedly, looking at my dad. He hadn’t talked much today, only stabbing into the food with his fork, his gaze cast on the table. They were still fighting, I assumed, and it turned out to be right when my father pushed his plate away, and said, “I’m full. I’ll be upstairs.”

He stood up and disappeared from the dining room. My mother sighed and mumbled something about my father being incapable of doing things right. I wasn't so keen on listening to one of my parent complaining about the other, so I quickly finished my food and excused myself. 

Upstairs, when I entered my room, I saw the screen of my phone flashing bright.   I jumped onto my bed, reaching for the device on my night stand, when I saw the message, and my heart stopped. Hyomin had texted me. 

☆

I realised what kind of an effect Hyomin’s sudden message had on me when Sunggyu and Myungsoo pointed out at school that I looked dazed. They told me that I would look out the windows with a furrow between my eyebrows, staring at nothing in particular. They told me that I seemed like I was in deep thoughts, as if something were bothering me. And they were right. Something was indeed bothering me.

The thing was, why would Hyomin suddenly contact me after so many years and negative memories? It wasn’t like her text message was bad or hurtful. She was harmlessly asking me whether I still remembered her, telling me that she got my number from one of her school mates - something I am still pondering about even today - and she only wanted to know whether I had been fine in the recent years. Her text message didn’t hurt me, but it came so suddenly I just couldn’t think of anything to reply. So I didn’t.

We had been best friends in primary school, but that was such a long time ago. After so many years, I just didn’t know how to talk to her anymore, and it would only be awkward and weird to meet her. I was fine without having her explicitly be part of my life. Sungjong, as the representation of my past, was enough. In one way or another.

It was break time, and I was preoccupied with all those thoughts and Sunggyu and Myungsoo pretty much left me to my alone time, when Bomi suddenly approached me and told me to follow her with a small smile and a nod. It seemed unusual for her to want to talk to me in private, so all the possible explanations for such a phenomena raced through my mind as I trailed after her down the corridor to the staircase of our floor. We descended the stairs, and she walked ahead of me, leading the way, when I landed upon the thought that she might hate me for somehow stealing Woohyun away. Suddenly it seemed legit that she might have wanted to speak to me in order to tell me her piece of mind, to tell me that Woohyun didn’t need me anymore, that I could just as well rot in hell. I felt bad for possibly thinking of Bomi in that way, but in panic situations I couldn’t help my brain from generating such thoughts.

We were outside the school building when she turned around the corner, and I quickened my pace to not lose her in the midst of chaos in my head. I couldn’t allow myself to be dazed at such a serious situation. That was unfitting. I was just rounding the corner when she stopped and looked back at me, an apologetic expression on her face. I wondered why she would look apologetic to me, whether it was just my imagination, when a voice rang from my side.

"Thank you, Bomi."

I turned my head to the owner of the voice and saw Woohyun leaning against the wall behind him. He was looking at Bomi, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, and nodded at her. She just smiled a little, then walked away.

Now there was only Woohyun and me with the sound of the wind around us. He looked casual, had his gaze fixed on anything but my eyes. His lips were pressed together, and they stretched out into a thin line. I crossed my arms in front of me, not as a way to build a wall between us, but rather to shield myself from the cold wind. He shrugged a little, for no apparent reason.

“Hey,” said Woohyun, looking up at me.

For some reason, I felt annoyance welling up inside of me. I knew he was trying to make up, and I really shouldn’t mind that, but I still couldn't put my anger aside. At some point, I think, I had finally accepted the development of us going separate ways, of being only classmates with the same passion for stars. I had come in terms with it, but then he appeared and started confronting this issue, and that angered me a little. Looking at him reminded me of his accusing words regarding Sungjong, and it reminded me of the hurtful words I had hurled at him. That, in a way, angered me even more.

"You're hating this, right?” he asked, chuckling when my eyes widened at his accurate statement. He shook his head slightly. ”I'm sorry, Anjell, but you have to tolerate this now."

I sighed, finding myself giving in to his words. He wasn't just any guy after all. He was Woohyun. He was my stargazing partner, the closest friend I had besides Sungjong. No matter how much we hurt each other, hated each other, angered each other, I still couldn’t help but go back to him. He was the safe place I needed. Even if that place was sometimes scary and intimidating.

Woohyun looked at me carefully, then asked, ”Do you know why I ignored you these past few days?”

"Because I insulted you. Because we were fighting,” I answered matter-of-factly, although it struck me as painful to know that I might have hurt him. 

"Well, that too. But it was the truth. What you were saying, you know. About me being bad influence and all. I’m really not a good person. I know that. So it wasn't exactly because of that,” he said, folding his arms in front of his chest, as if mimicking my position. "You really don't know?"

I shook my head, somehow wondering whether I had been overreacting regarding the issue about Sungjong. It occurred to me that I might have been unfair to Woohyun for only caring about my primary school friend, not considering my stargazing partner’s feelings. In the end, both were my close friends. And I realised I was hurting one of them for the other.

Woohyun explained, ”I was avoiding you because you wouldn't understand what I was trying to tell you. You'd refuse to accept my opinion and all. But really I was only talking about Sungjong because I care about you."

"Can we not talk about Sungjong? You don't really know him.”

“Yes, that’s why I can judge him objectively. No matter how you might remember him, I highly doubt he is still the kid you knew from back then. People change."

I closed my eyes in frustration, exhaling to let the anger out. When I opened them again, I stared at Woohyun with a stern look. ”Why are you doing this? If you're gonna talk about Sungjong like that, then I could go ahead and say something about Soyou. She wasn't exactly perfect, was she?”

"Why are you bringing her up now?" he asked, looking angrily at me. It seemed as if the hole Soyou had left behind hadn't completely healed yet, and I was so cruel to pour salt into his wounds. Woohyun closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. When he glanced back at me, he looked kind of exhausted. "Look, I'm not doing this to anger you. I wouldn't. I'm just caring about you. I'm protecting you. Sungjong might be a good guy, but you shouldn't let him force you to go to those places.”

He was right. I couldn’t believe myself why I had agreed to join Sungjong to karaoke. It was unusual, out of character, but at the same time Woohyun didn't have the right to talk to me like that, accusing me of things, blaming my friend, because Woohyun himself wasn't perfect either. 

I said, ”Please stop this now. I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"Damn, Anjell, you don't get it. I'm not doing thisㅡ"

"I get it. I do get it. I know you are doing this for me. But if you're gonna be like this, then stop doing it for me.”

Woohyun hardened his expression, only moving his tongue around in his mouth, as if he were having an internal battle with himself. His eyes were searching mine, searching for something particular, but to no avail. His jaw was clenched, and he looked really scary for a moment. I could not recognise him.

”I can't believe you haven't noticed yet,” he said, scoffing, refusing to soften his gaze. He shook his head a few times, then looked at me the way I didn’t want to be looked at. "How couldn't you have noticed it all this time? How couldn't you have seen it?

I held my breath.

"Damn, Anjell, I've been crushing on you since puberty."

☆