October 2008

            “I’m moving,” Jong In said one Sunday morning as we dined together for breakfast, “I can no longer afford my rent.” My heart dropped; I put down my eating utensil. I no longer felt the need to eat. An empty, hollow feeling consumed my stomach.

            “Hello?” Jong In saved his hand in front of my face. “Hana Park, you still there?”

            “…yeah,” I managed to mutter before blindly reaching for my glass cup. I drank a sip of water as a futile attempt to ease my nerves. “…when are you moving?” I finally said.

            “Next Sunday,” Jong In suddenly smiled, “but we can still keep in contact, Hana Park! I will still bring you from and to work.” Even when he said this, it did not comfort me. The fact that I would no longer see Kim Jong In as often as I would like left me feeling nauseous.

            “It’s so…sudden,” I uttered, “you should have told me earlier.” Vexation is laced within my voice.

            “I would have, but you wouldn’t enjoy every –“

            “It isn’t like that, Jong In!” My voice’s volume rose drastically. “You don’t understand. You should have told me earlier! How are we going to keep in contact when you don’t have a job, let alone affording a phone?!” Bitter words tumbled out of my mouth. The shock on Jong In’s face was evident.

            “You’re unbelievable, Kim Jong In!” I said, frustrated. Then I stormed out of his apartment.

* * * *

            I came to work later that day, clearly distressed from earlier. Woohyun had noted the change of my behavior almost immediately. He confronted me during our fifteen-minute break. “I’m not even going to beat around the bush this time, Hana Park. What’s wrong?” I didn’t speak – I was too immersed in my emotions. “Don’t lie either, I know Jong In didn’t come with you today.”

            “Jong In’s moving,” I softly spoke, finally succumbing into Woohyun’s words.

            “…there’s nothing you can do about it, huh?” Woohyun swung his legs back and forth.

            “Nope, and worse of all, he’s moving a week from now.” I sighed. “He didn’t even warn me about moving. It just popped out of his mouth today.”

            “Maybe he cares too much for you,” Woohyun depended on his arms to prop him up. His hands were placed near his back as he stared up at the azure sky. “Jong In is a practical person. He has his reasons, Hana.”

            “What do you know?” I asked. “You barely know Jong In.”

            “But judging by his actions, I can only assume he cares for you,” Woohyun looked at me in the eyes, “it’s called indirect characterization. Have you ever paid attention in class?”

            I pondered over Woohyun’s words. What he said made sense. “…do you truly think he cares for me?” I said, somewhat resembling a naïve child.

            “Of course, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be walking you back and forth.”

            Another sigh escaped my lips. “…but I did something bad today,” I confessed. Woohyun gazed at me, waiting for me to continue. “He promised he would keep in touch with me, but I got so worked up about it. I was upset that he didn’t tell me he was moving until much later. So I insulted him. I said that since he didn’t have a job, he would be unable to contact me. I was angry that I would not be able to see him as often.”

            Then the next thing Woohyun did was unbelievable. He smiled. “That can only mean one thing, Hana Park. You like Kim Jong In.”

* * * *

December 2008

            I got released from the hospital the next day. Jong In, being the gentleman he was, assisted with carrying my belongings to the car. He claimed that I needed as much rest as possible – that I should not exert myself at all.

            “Jong In, don’t baby me,” I finally said after Jong In helped me with the seat belt strap. Though I wasn’t one to complain about the position I found myself in, I still wanted to be an independent person as well.