Chapter 8 : When His World Crashed.

It’s been five sweet months of their love life. They went to dates when they felt like, they shared secret kisses at school, they held hands under the desks during lessons, every chance they got they would at least brush their fingers together if they can’t hold hands. Woo Bin sometimes climbed through the window at night when everyone had fallen asleep, and of course they almost got caught one when Jong Suk’s mother came to check on him, but luckily the door was locked and she went away after talking to him. They had a sweet time with each other, until one Monday evening in early July.

Jong Suk had just gotten home from school to find Woo Bin’s parent at his house. He walked over to the living room and greeted them.

“Jong Suk-ah…” Woo Bin’s mother smiled pleasantly. “I haven’t seen you in a awhile,” she said waving him to come sit next to her. Jong Suk dumped his bag on the floor and sat next to her. She caught him into a hug.

“How nice it would be if I could have a beautiful son like him,” she said kissing his cheek. His heart leapt to his throat for a second there.

“Then why not marry him off with our Yoo Jin-ah,” Woo Bin’s father, Mr Kim said, chuckling with Jong-Suk father.

“He wouldn’t survive a day,” she said shaking her head in disappointment. “She’d strangle the boy to death if they get into a fight.” Everyone laughed and Jong Suk also chuckled thinking how miserable his life would be if he were to become her husband. Glad he wasn’t going to.

“But they will become in-laws soon,” Mr Kim said, still chucking at the comment his had made earlier. Jong Suk gave a questionable look at Mrs Kim, but before he could ask anything or she could say anything, Jin-Ah walked in with a tray full of fruits. She placed it on the coffee table.

“Omo…our Jin-Ah-ya,” Mrs Kim said, releasing Jong Suk from her hug and pulling Jin-Ah into her embrace now.

“Unni,” Mrs Kim said looking at Jong Suk’s mother who was bringing their coffee. “Do you know how thankful I am to have such a sweet daughter-in-law,” she giggled as she Jin-Ah’s head.

Daughter-in-law? Jong Suk repeated the word in his head. How would she become her daughter-in-law?

“You must be happy,” Mrs Kim said poking Jong Suk out of his thoughts. “Soon you’ll become brother-in-laws with your best friend,” she chuckled. Jong Suk felt his world crash right in front of his eyes. His heart stopped beating for a moment, his eyes widened in disbelief. Is this a joke? Or is this a dream? He stared at the people chuckling happily when they have just crashed and stomped on his world until it had shattered into million pieces. He turned to Jin-Ah; this is just a joke, right…? There is no way Jin-Ah would want to marry Woo Bin, right? But all he saw was a very shy smile spreading across her face, like a bride on her wedding day. A pang pierced through Jong Suk’s heart. Their voices started to buzz, he could still hear what they were saying, but none of that mattered to him.

“We should decide on an engagement date,” Mrs Kim was saying now. “Our Woo Bin’s going to turn 19 at the end of this month, and our Jin-Ah is already 18. So should we do their engagement on his birthday?” her merry voice seemed to envelop Jong Suk. It threatened to overwhelm him.

“That’s a great idea,” Jong Suk’s mother was saying. “We should arrange things quickly then.”

Jong Suk wanted to run away, he wanted to crack the floor open and disappear into a world where no one will ever find him, where he will never hear these conversations.

“Shouldn’t we ask for Woo Bin’s opinion on this?” Jong Suk’s father said, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Oppa, he has no reason to disagree to this,” Mrs Kim replied. “They have been together since they were kids and he clearly adores her. So why would he even say no? Isn’t that right Jong Suk-ah?” she turned back to Jong Suk.

He tried to smile, but it came out sort of funny. More like a grimace. He avoided her haze and stared at his shoe instead.

“Excuse me,” Jong Suk said and scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t sit there with them anymore. “I have to…” To what? He couldn’t think of anything to say. But it didn’t really matter. No one seemed to care whether he stayed there or not.

Jong Suk moved as fast as he could out of the living room. He backed out of the door and it swung shut behind him as he got out of that suffocating house. Jong Suk looked up and down the road, which was blessedly empty.

He started walking. He didn’t know where he was headed, he was not even sure where this particular road would lead to, he just knew that he had to move or he’ll break.

He was moving faster and faster, his legs hurt. He realised suddenly that he is running, hurtling down the foot path running through the park. His ribs ached, both from the laboured breaths that he just managed to draw and the words that he had heard a while ago weighing down on his heart.

He focused on the painful breaths; the pain didn’t matter because it distracted him from that conversation replaying in his head.

Unfortunately Jong Suk only had so much stamina and the road circled back to where he started. He was furious when he reached back to where he started, just in front of his house. If it weren’t for the people hovering on the roads, he’d start pounding the tree trunks with his fists.

Instead he collapsed against the tree, his lungs screaming, even if he himself was silent and tried to focus on how badly his ribs hurt.

A tear tickled down his face and dripped on his shirt.

***

Jong Suk walked back to his house; it was late night now. He walked past the kitchen and no one even noticed him. His mother was frying something and his sister was giggling next to her. They didn’t even seem to care that Jong Suk had just gotten home. No one except Jong Suk’s father.

He walked toward Jong Suk and held his hand. Jong Suk jolted at the sudden interaction. He looked at his father’s worried eyes examine him closely.

“Are you alright Sukie?” he asked.

Jong Suk managed to form a smile but it vanished in a second. “I’m just tired,” he said and walked into his bedroom.

He flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Though he desperately wished that this was some kind of a dream, he was conscious enough to know that it wasn’t.

***