November 2008

            It was the night before Jong In was due to move out. He had already packed his belongings in cardboard boxes and moving out was the only thing left to do on the list. We still made no effort to initiate a conversation, only exchanging “discreet” glances. But I finally had enough with this childish act – it was his last night here, and I couldn’t let it pass away in silence.

            “Meet me at the rooftop, Jong In,” I said earlier in the day. He made no comment, but I was absolutely certain he had caught my words. Because here we were, sitting on the infamous wooden bench which was known to have splinters almost everywhere. But Jong In and I…we were daring like that.

            We sat beside each other, each with a can of beer in our hand. The atmosphere was silent at first, but as the night drew on, we grew tipsier. Laughter pealed through the air as we shared our personal stories. Pretty soon, Jong In and I were drunk to the point that we couldn’t see clearly. However, it wasn’t to the point where we were dead out cold.

            “Jong In,” I said after he finished telling his story when he ripped his pants in front of the entire class, “I have to tell you something.” Jong In took another sip of his beer, allowing for me to continue.

            “I’m sorry for saying the things I did last week. I was just really –“ I couldn’t finish my sentence afterwards. Something warm and soft was against my lips, precluding me from speaking any further. It took me a moment of realization to figure what was occurring. Unknowingly, I closed my eyes, soaking in the moment.

            The warmth disappeared a second later. Jong In spoke softly, “My goodbye gift from you. I’ll promise to cherish it.” And then he descended down the stairs.

* * * *

            I had an extremely terrible headache the next day – ugh, stupid hangovers. I made myself a cup of coffee and a slice of toast before settling down on my couch. Although my blood was very much poisoned from alcohol, I could still clearly remember what had happened. Recalling last night’s event, my heart began thudding quickly.  

            The ringing of my apartment’s doorbell pulled me out of my thoughts.

            I got up from the couch, still with the cup of coffee in tow and unlocked the door, not even bothering to check who was at the door. Nobody this early in the morning would ring my doorbell aside from one certain person. To confirm my suspicions, it was Jong In who stood at my door.

            “I just wanted to say bye to you,” Jong In said. He was dressed up in a sweatshirt and faded out jeans. “I’ll call you, Hana. I promise you. Just don’t do anything funny now that I don’t live across from you anymore.” I set aside my coffee mug on the bookshelf before pulling Jong In to a hug.

            This was the first time I ever openly showed affection for Jong In.

            “Don’t move,” I whispered softly as we were still wrapped in a tight embrace, “move in with me.”

* * * *

December 2008

            “I hate owing people debts,” Mr. Oh Chin Ho said to his secretary, “Especially owing debts to strangers. It’s an ugly feeling having to owe someone something. I want to get rid of it – tell me how.”

            “President,” answered his secretary, “you don’t owe them anything. We’ve already sealed the hospital’s mouth – they can’t possibly leak any information on Young Master. Plus, Golden Flame has donated $100K to the hospital to fund its rehab center and the cancer testing labs.”

            “I wasn’t talking about the hospital,” Mr. Oh shook his head, “I was speaking about the person that saved Sehun. I want you to give me a background on her and the man who accompanied her to the mountain. I want the facts by tomorrow.”

            “As you wish, President,” his secretary nodded his head before leaving the office.

* * * *