You are a university graduate student studying pharmaceutics, about 26~29 years old. Your name is Kim Seoyoung (김 서영). You can't cook to save your life. You were engaged to your highschool sweet heart, Lee Seungmin (이 승민) (not to be confused with성민 (SJ's Sungmin) ), but not anymore. Kangin is your highschool senior (sunbae) and member of the South Korean idol group, Super Junior. He's looking for you all of a sudden after being discharged from the military for some reason . . . And dear Lordy, it's another 2nd person perspective . . . What did Jaedelle get herself into when I decided to try to write 15 short-stories featuring the reader~ =________= As an extra bit of information, in this story, Leeteuk, Yesung, and Heechul are still in the military, so they will not have any lines.

 

A Timeless Heart

 

"Hey," the voice on the phone says.

"Who is this?" you wedge the phone between your shoulder and ear, eyes narrowed as you take off your latex gloves and goggles. You head to the sink when the voice suddenly drops a cuss. "Excuse me?"

"Ya, how can you not remember the sunbae that helped you with homework?" He sounds like he's in a hurry.

"You mean Jihoo-sunbae? But this isn't his number," you switched shoulders and turned the taps.

"Youngwoon! Kim Youngwoon-oppa! Remember me?"

"Ah," you say. "Ah . . ." But then the name doesn't ring a bell. "Who are you?" Then it hits you. "Oh, dear mother of drugville . . . you're not Super Junior's Kangin for real are you?" The voice sounded about right, he did sound kind of rough like the famous bad boy. But why would a celebrity have your number . . . ?

"So you do remember me! Seoyoung-ah," he sounded happy, and like he was running down some kind of hallway. "Yeah, Eunhyukkie, I'll be there in a sec-"

"Oh f--" you swear as your phone falls into the sink. And quickly, you recover it just to hear Kangin say,

"Seoyoung-ah, sorry, I'll call you back later!"

"Wait--" And the line went dead.

"Ah, really?" You set your phone aside and finish washing your hands, untying your hair and shaking it out. Your scalp definately did not appreciate it when you pinned the daylights out of your long, wavy hair right after having it dyed a caramel color. And wearing it up all day in the lab didn't make your scalp any happier with you. You sigh and look at the mirror, mentally telling yourself, no pain, no game. You loved chemistry since junior high, so it was a natural choice to go into a science-oriented highschool, and later, to major in and pursue a higher degree in pharmaceuticals in college. If you were good and lucky, you could make a good living off of it. And some day, you might even be able to improve a medicine to save someone. You lightly touch the locket that you always wore, flipping it open to look at the smiling faces. You smile back at the young man in the picture and quickly snap the locket shut before the tears come.

You thank all your colleagues and bow to your professor before leaving the lab and going back to your small studio apartment.

 

Once home, you kick off your shoes and open a bottle of red wine. You pour yourself a glass and sip at it while lounging on the couch while picking at a frozen macaroni and cheese dinner. You sigh again. Better than instant ramen, but maybe I should learn how to cook . . . You turn on the television, flipping channels until settling on SBS to watch a re-run of Strong Heart. It's not like you really gave a hoot about most of their stories, but you loved it when the air blowers exploded in the guests' faces. And you wanted to roll our eyes as you saw who the special guest was that day; Super Junior. You reach for the remote, but the camera focuses on Kangin as you grasp the device. You your head to one side, thinking about the strange caller from earlier. Kim Youngwoon? You tilt your head to the other side, and your shoulder pops. It couldn't be . . .  You stretch, popping more joints before rising to pluck your highschool year book off a shelf. You flip through the book, looking at all the faces and memories before reaching your class' picture, and your eyes widen. You look at the boy in the back row, then look at the man on the screen and feel a yelp escape from your lips.

"Holy mother of drugville--" And your phone rings.

"Hey," Kangin says.

"You--" you find yourself saying. "You're the sunbae that was always causing trouble!"

"What? Me?"

"Yeah, you! And you never helped me with homework, it was always me trying to teach you how to do your own!"

"Damn, caught," he laughed. "It's been awhile though, right? 

"Nn, what do you want this time? And how did you get my number?" You sat down and crossed your legs on the floor.

"What do you mean how? I should be asking why you still use the same phone as all those years ago!"

"It's a good phone, why waste it?" You shot back. "So you still had my number, eh?"

". . . So . . . How have you been?" he changes the subject.

"In grad-school now, you?"

He laughed. "Work."

And the line goes awkwardly silent for a bit before he speaks again.

"So, um . . . how is Seungmin?" He just had to bring up his former best buddy and your late fiance.

You clutch the locket around your neck. "You didn't even call him all these years to ask if he was around."

"Hey, I'm trying to say sorry for being a jerk when you two said you were getting married--"

"He's dead." Angry now, you hung up on Kangin, feeling the tears roll down as you throw your phone to the couch. You open the locket and look again at the smiling faces. Seungmin was sick, and he took medicine that was supposed to help him get over it, but . . . well, it got recalled shortly after he passed away. Your phone buzzes and you flick an annoyed glance at it before storming off to your bathroom to shower the day off. Then you call it a night and go to sleep, ignoring your phone until the next morning.

 

You wake up as your alarm clock rings, the bell-like sound making your ears wih they were bleeding. Grumpily, you sit up in bed and scratch your head, stretching and yawning. You look at the calendar and curse; you set the alarm on a Saturday. No lab or class today, and you were awake. Moron . . . You get up and go to the living room, picking up your phone:

Two unread texts, a missed call, and one new voicemail.

Habitually, you check your voicemail first.

"Hey, it's Kangin again. I don't know if you got my text, but I'll call you sometime later. Let's meet up for old times' sake someday--Yah, Ryeowookie, what are you laughing about now? Is it that weird for hyung to--" Beep. And the message suddenly cut off.

You scroll through the messages he left.

are you serious?

And one sent after the voicemail:

hey, I'm sorry.

You scratch your head and sigh. It's not like it was his fault, if anything--you look at the picture in your locket-- maybe it was your fault for taking his best friend away from him . . .

You dial his number, and just as you're about to hang up because he's not picking up . . .

"You. Do you know what time it is?" he growled.

"Sorry, Youngwoon-sunbae. I'll call back later," quickly you hang up, placing a hand over your hammering heart. Why are you scared of him all of a sudden? And your phone rings.

"Seoyoung-ah, sorry, I didn't realize you were the one that called me," he yawns. You must have woken him up. "But you got my messages?"

"Nn . . ."

"But Seungmin . . . I . . ."

"Yeah, it's been about three years now . . ."

"Um . . . but, how did he . . . I mean, he was always so strong and, you know? I didn't know he was sick until after he told me he was gonna marry you . . . how did he . . . ?"

"The medicine he took wasn't safe . . ." You want to change the subject before you begin to cry. "Hey, you said you wanted to meet up sometime?"

"Oh, uh, yeah . . . I just got back from the military, so I wanted to hang out with the two of you . . . you know, find some lost time?"

"Nn," you say, switching ears. "When's good for you?"

"Later today, maybe around 10pm?"

"Why so late?"

"Work."

"You don't get Saturday off?"

"This is the real world, and as 'Kangin,' I get zero days off because it's a lifestyle," he chuckles, somewhat bitterly.

"Where?"

"Can't you ask in longer phrases?"

"No."

He sighs. "Do you think you can to the back door of the SM building without being noticed?"

"Probably, but it'd make me feel better if this wasn't a covert mission."

"Hm . . . I'll send someone who's good at this to help you out--"

You hear a higher voice calling Kangin:

"Hyung, you're already up? Breakfast is ready."

"Be there in a sec, Ryeowookie. See you then?"

"Nn." And the line goes dead.

 

And that evening, you notice a flock of paparazzi flooding around a tall man in dark shades and a short, thin woman who was also wearing shades.

"Mr. Kyuhyun, are you dating that girl?" You hear them ask the tall man, who cleared his throat. "What's her name? Miss, what's your relationship with Mr. Kyuhyun?"

The little lady smiles brightly, shaking her head and not uttering a word. Gosh, her teeth are so white . . . Her long, wavy black hair bounces as she shakes her small head, and she leans it on the tall man's arm, looking around without losing that forced smile for even a beat.

"We can't just be friends?" he seems to stammer a little, giving them a slightly forced smile. They are so obviously more than friends . . . You thought, seeing that they were holding hands. Then your eyes meet the girl's, and you she points at the building behind her, mouthing, go. And as you continue to stand and stare, she pulls down her shades a bit and you see her eyebrows, realizing she wasn't even a 'she.' He was Ryeowook, and helping Kyuhyun draw the media's attention. You mouth a quick thank you and duck into the building.

 

Once inside, someone takes your wrist and begins to lead you up a set of stairs.

"Wait--" you begin, but the tall figure doesn't stop. So you hooked your foot infront of his and tripped him, sending his fake glasses flying.

"Ah, what was that for?" he says, sitting on the floor and dusting himself off before putting his glasses back on. His Korean sounded a little funny to you, so you asked,

"Where are you from?"

"Wuhan," he replies shortly. "I need to get you up there before security and whatnots asks who I've brought into the building, so let's go." He gently pulls up by the wrist and leads you to a room on the next floor. "Now I got to go back to recording room, sorry I can't help more." The tall fellow bows and rushes back down the stairs, leaving you in the room with two strangers. One had wide shoulders and a hand over his mouth, and the other was very lanky and leaning on a costume rack. 

"Ah, you're here," says the broad-shouldered one, starting to rustle through the clothing on the rack. "Eunhyuk-ah, will any of these fit her?"

"Donghae, don't think about what fits, just find something that won't fall down," The thinner man joins Donghae in flipping through the articles rack. "We just need to disguise you as a man, ma'am." He says to you, holding out various outfits, tsking, and then selecting more clothes.

"Eunhyuk, don't think about what looks good," Donghae says, mimicking Eunhyuk's tone from earlier. Eunhyuk throws his accomplice a dirty look before handing you a spikey hoody and a pair of black, ripped up jeans. "Wear that." 

"Wait--" you say again as Donghae sweeps you off your feet and begins to carry you off to another room.

 

And Donghae literally dropped you off at the next room, leaving you to rub your rear as he bows.

"Sorry, got to hurry back to Hyukkie to practice for our Japanese single," he apologies quickly, rushing out of the room.

You look around this room; it looks like a makeup room. You half expect to see another person to ferry you off to the next destination, but no one is there. You change into the clothes provided by Eunhyuk and Donghae and wrinkle your nose. It smells like these were on stage not too long ago . . .

Knock. Knock.

You jump as there's a knock on the door, and a man with broken Korean pokes his head in.

"Excuse me, miss?" he says meekly.

"Let me guess, Wuhan?"

"Mudanjiang, Wuhan is Zhou Mi," he replied. "Kangin . . . downstairs lobby." He offers you his hand and you take it, grateful that he wasn't going to drag you like Zhou Mi did or lift you like Donghae did.

Nearing the lobby, he turns around to look at you and says, "Ah . . . Eunhyukkie forgot to give you hat . . ." He takes off his cap and carefully helps you tuck your hair under it. You look up after the cap is secure and see Kangin leaning against a wall while talking to an older man. Seeing you, he wraps up his conversation and strides towards the two of you.

"Thanks, Hankyung-hyung," he thanks the man that led you to the lobby. The Chinese man just smiles gently and waves as the two of you walk away.

And you run into Kyuhyun and Ryeowook on your way out.

"Hyung, never again," Kyuhyun whips off his sunglasses and glowers at Kangin. "And Ryeowook, you went way too far!"

"They noticed Seoyoung-noona, what else could I do? You're doing dishes for two months at least," Ryeowook huffed, covering half his face with his wig. "You owe me more than a week of dish duty."

"Ok, ok, Hyung understands," Kangin in says, "Let's go! I won't have much free time after this! Go, let's go!" He pushes you out the door as you begin thanking the two for their troubles.

 

The two of you sit at a cafe, he was stirring his caramel latte and you were sipping at a strawberry smoothie.

"So . . ." he says.

"So," you reply, looking at the pink stuff in your cup.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Being an ."

"Oh . . ."

And awkwardly, you both look at your drinks, thinking about Seungmin.

"Remember that time when you caught us watching ?"

You choke on your smoothie. "Yeah, but why now?"

"That was my fault."

"Shocker."

He sighs. "What I mean to say is that he was a good friend, really." He scratched his head. "Sorry that I ruined some of your memories of him."

You looked away, turning your gaze to the cars outside. "I'm the one that should be sorry, I took your best friend away. If we weren't engaged, you probably would still be in contact with him. You could have spent more time with him, but I stole all your time." Your eyes water as you habitually touch your locket.

"Is that what you think?" Kangin is suddenly behind you. And he hugs you tightly. "Seungmin-ah, I'm sorry." And you feel tears splash onto the top of your head. You start to turn, but he stops you. "Seoyoung-ah, I wished you chose me instead. I was jealous all these years, and that's why--"

"Why you were an ?" And the tears roll down your cheeks, too. 

". . . yeah."

"Seungmin tried to call you--" your voice trembled. "But you changed your number. He always defended you whenever I called you a 'dolt' . . ."

"Seoyoung-ah . . ."

"I really hate you for doing this to us, but," You push his hands off and grab some napkins from the table, turning around and wiping his tears. "Seungmin wouldn't want me to be angry."

"Seoyoung . . . Can we visit his resting place sometime?"

 

Six years later . . .

While holding your daughter's hand with your husband standing solemnly behind you, you kneel and place flowers before a grave.

"Seungmin-ah," you call out softly. "It's been awhile."

"Thanks for giving us your blessings four years ago," You feel Youngwoon's hand on your shoulder as he kneels beside you. He looks at that picture of his best buddy and and smiles gently. "That you that never changes, eh, timeless buddy?"

 

END

 

20130731 -- stinky creek -.- Very choppy and typo mania for Kangin's installment . . . Boys Before Flowers reference~~ ^-^~

And dear God, why does the M filter keep switching on whenever I edit stuff?