Naeun

I will never believe what they say. There is a strength in enduring. - CHVRCHES, "Dead Air"

It was already Monday and we still hadn’t spoken 

I wanted to talk to him, I’d dare say through my delusion that I was craving it, but life had a way of stepping all over my enjoyment. 

I felt my head fall slightly, and my eyes go heavy while we listened to Hayoung and Chorong, our 1st and 2nd year chairs, lobby for who deserved to use the surplus funds once all the expenses were subtracted from this year’s activity budget. I was barely starting to focus on them when they finished speaking. I looked up, rubbing my eyes to clear my vision, letting me see that everyone was staring at me, expecting me to make a decision. I cleared my throat, darting my eyes everywhere, looking or some sign of what was going on. 

“Forget it, she’s gonna choose the senior class anyway.” Hayoung complained from her lectern. Chorong elbowed her, begging her to keep her disrespect to a minimum. “What? She always chooses them over us.” 

“Enough.” Eunji answered for me. “If Madame President thinks the 3rd year class deserves the funds, then they do.” Her firm tone was a real blessing sometimes. Despite being a blessing, it wasn’t enough to stop Hayoung from whining. 

“That’s not fair! There’s no senior chair, how can she favor someone that did’t even make an argument?!” Chorong nodded meekly, and everyone seemed to join her. 

“She’s right.” I mumbled, looking to all five of my fellow student council members. I sighed at how empty these 0 period Monday meetings, and basically all of our meetings, were. There were supposed to be 12 classroom representatives, one more class chair, and tons of other miscellaneous positions, but our members could almost be counted on one hand. “We need more members before we settle matters of this nature.” I hit my gavel twice, signaling the end of our meeting, and commanded everyone to get to work for the remainder of the home room period. I stood up to leave, frustration evident in my eyes. 

“Where are you going?” Eunji called out at me.

“To get representatives.” 

I walked down the horrid cream colored halls, which thanks to years without renovation, were now going on grey. I stood in front of the first class I would be talking to, 3-D, fixing my hair and blazer before I walked in. Their teacher had not arrived, which meant it would just be that much harder to get their attention and respect. No one seemed to notice me when I entered the classroom, but at least a couple of people stopped their conversations when I stood at the front of the room. No amount of throat clearing would make anyone else listen. I put on my most authoritative voice and face, ready to speak. 

“Excuse me, class.” My authoritative voice seemed to reduce to a squeak. I took a deep breath, waiting to catch the attention of a few more people before continuing. “I am your student council president, Son Naeun.” I hoped my introduction would’ve inspired a few to take interest, but I was only met with blank gazes and annoyed glances. Some people weren’t even facing me. A group of six boys sat in a cluster in the back of the room, and only one of them was in a position to directly look at me, but he was in his own little world, completely immersed in whatever he was listening to through his headphones. I tried my best not to show my obvious distaste on my face, and plastered on the same smile I had while we handed out forms in the cafeteria; the smile that said trustworthy, but completely miserable. 

“You might have seen me and other members of the student council handing out applications in the cafeteria. I’m here to personally invite you all to join us at the student council. We’re discussing matters that seriously need the opinion and backing of the senior class, so we hope that you will all stop by and apply for a position. We’re located-“ 

“Why?” Someone shouted from the back of the room. My smile slowly fell from my face, as I was taken aback from the rude interruption. 

“Why?” I repeated, trying to determine whether I had imagined the rude outburst, or if it had actually slipped from some ’s lips. 

“Yeah, why should we join your cult?” The same voice called out, followed by snickering from his section. I looked to identify the speaker, and recognized it to be the infamous , Byun Baekhyun. The snickers seemed to be coming from the boy sitting next to him, the equally infamous and equally distasteful Park Chanyeol. 

“It’s not a cult.” I replied, defensively, addressing only him. I took a second to remember that my credibility and sociability was at stake, so I softened my tone, and shifted to address the rest of the class. “And because it’s a great way to get involved in the school and make the changes you need to make. It can also get you letters of recommendation, which look great for college, which I know we’re all applying to soon. It’s fun, and interactive, and you get to skip homeroom if you become a member.” I added a genuine smile after my last persuasive point, knowing that it was always a selling point for many. Some heads did perk up, to my satisfaction, but it was all ruined. 

“I’d rather sit through homeroom than go through that boring .” Park Chanyeol spoke up this time, earning many laughs, and making those who seemed genuinely interested detract. Of course, the ridicule of the top of the food chain could sway people from benefit. It pissed me off, and I’d like to say that I’m rational and rarely lose my temper. 

Keep your cool, Naeun. Don’t let it get to you. 

I chanted it over and over again in the split second it took to ignore his comment. 

“So if any of you would like to benefit your community and do good, or want a place to make helpful, constructive arguments, our door is always open. We’re located next to the teacher’s lounge, and our applications have no deadlines. I hope to see you there.” I ended my speech with a smile, looking at the idiots in the corner one last time. They were trying their best to hold in their laughter over something. It took every ounce of professionalism I had to not roll my eyes into the sun. I’d like to see some more than others, I thought, looking at the overgrown toddlers exchanging glances. And then there was the who had not looked up even once, who in my book, was just as bad as the rest of them. 

Just as I was stepping towards the classroom door, their homeroom teacher walked in, recognizing me and greeting me. 

“Just a reminder, Mr. Kang, we need you to send us a classroom representative. I’m afraid that if you don’t pick someone to send, we’ll have to randomly select someone.” I said loudly, for everyone to hear. It wasn’t true, but hopefully it would inspire someone to let the fate of their school get as far away from the hands of the six idiots as possible. 

I looked at my watch, angrily, tapping my foot. It was getting colder by the minute, and my eyes were watering because the wind was hitting them directly. Still, I would smile at all of the students leaving the middle school. Some recognized me as Seeun’s sister, greeting me excitedly.

“Where is that brat?” I muttered through my gritted teeth. I was a pro at giving off a fake smile by now, but it was harder to do when it was freezing. 

I saw her walking out of the building, taking her sweet time. She saw me waiting for her, and seemed to slow down her pace. 

“Are you kidding me?” I let the fake smile slide off of my face, and replaced it with a look of clear frustration. Still, she didn’t care at all, and continued walking without a care. I was fuming by the time she reached me. 

“Hey.” She greeted me, without looking at me. She reached in her pocket to put on her headphones, but I grabbed her wrist before she could. “What the hell is your problem?” She hissed at me. 

“What the hell is your problem?” I spat back at her. Maybe I was just irritated that school was another day of disappointment and I was taking it out on her, but still, she was at fault for pissing me off. We shared a room together, we knew each other’s mannerisms and moods, and she should have definitely seen the look in my eyes that was a sign not to mess with me. 

“My problem is that I don’t need a baby sitter hauling my from school and back.” She rolled her eyes, quickening her pace to walk in front of me. 

“Well you wouldn’t need me to walk you home from school if you hadn’t ditched like an idiot.” I retorted, making her remember why she had to be dropped off and picked up at the front gate in the first place. 

“I wouldn’t have gotten in trouble for something as minor as ditching if little miss perfect had done it when she was in middle school, too.” She turned around to glare at me. It was my turn to roll my eyes at her immaturity. No matter how we danced around the subject, the blame always landed on me. While she may consider me ‘little miss perfect’, it didn’t stop her from being a complete princess, that was raised by coddling. She was never “perfect” by our parents’ standards, but they did teach her that even though she was hardly perfect, she was always right. There was no way something could ever be her fault, because that idea wasn’t placed anywhere near her head as a child. Like the assumptions say, the baby of the family is indeed spoiled rotten. And boy, was Seeun rotten. 

“Look,” I began, seeing that arguments were out of the question with someone whose defining personality trait was stubbornness, “I don’t want the burden of dropping you off at the gates, or picking you up, and you most certainly don’t want to get here at 6:30 again. I have compromises I can’t miss after school, and I’m sure you have other plans that don’t involve me being your babysitter. So why don't you just apologize to mom and dad?” I rolled my eyes again at the look on her face, the look that suggested that she would rather plunge a sword through her chest than apologize to anyone, even our parents. “I know ‘sorry’ isn’t exactly in your vocabulary, but they’ll be so shocked and proud that you’ll probably get let off the hook in a moment’s notice.” 

She seemed to ponder the idea, but would never admit that she liked it, or any of my ideas. It’s like we were always competing, even though I was far from interested in proving anything to her. She was still a child who felt the need to show me up, but I was past that, and hated the mere idea of having to compete at school, moreover at home. 

When we got home, our mother was already placing plates down to set the table. Seeun ran upstairs without even greeting our mom, seeing as she saw no purpose in her grand apology if only one parent was there to hear it. I stepped in the kitchen, helping my mother carry out the rest of the dishes. 

“That girl is getting so rude.” She shook her head while placing down glasses. I merely nodded, placing silverware near the glasses. “Shouldn’t you be helping her with that?” 

“She won’t listen to me.” I mumbled. 

“Maybe she’s getting it from you. Speak up, there’s no use mumbling if you’re almost 18.” I nodded my head, agreeing with her while simultaneously ignoring her. My mom wasn’t exactly mean, her temper had just decreased significantly over time. I didn’t blame her; I’d be sour too if I had to pay a bill, only to worry about when the next bill was going to come. I never complained about her less than amiable treatment, I just knew that it would be better to stay quiet, and not create more unnecessary stress. This concept had not yet crossed Seeun’s mind. 

I much preferred my father. He was a modest business man who also had nothing but worry clouding his mind, but he didn’t let it strip him of his personality completely like my mother had. Although it was clear that he preferred Seeun, they both did, I still knew that he was proud of me, and sometimes, I swore that I saw admiration and love when he looked at me, while I just saw concern when he looked at Seeun. 

When we were almost done setting the food out on the table, the front door opened, closing with a tired slam. I looked up with a smile, greeting my father as he took off his jacket. 

“Welcome home.” I said when he got to the small table. 

Seeun heard the door slam, and ran down knowing that my father and mother would be together. She cleared when she got to the bottom stair. 

“Mom, dad, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being irresponsible and ditching school. I fell into peer pressure, and I should’ve known better. It’ll never happen again.” She was quite the actress, pouting with the most sincerity she could show. She had probably zipped upstairs to practice the look of innocence in the mirror. 

It definitely worked, because they looked absolutely ecstatic. Seeun happily skipped to the kitchen to help my mother retrieve her final dishes. 

“She definitely didn’t get that from you. I’ve never seen you apologize a day in your life.” My mother said before going in to help my sister with the remaining food. 

“Because I never do anything wrong.” I muttered, pouring myself water from the pitcher on the table. My father, who was sitting in front of me, shot me a warning glance, reminding me not to talk back to my already stressed out mother. I raised my eyebrows at him, silently asking him if I was wrong. His soft smile in response assured me that he agreed with me, but would not let the other two women in the family hear it. 

Dinner always made me unnecessarily exhausted. My mother and father never failed to ask about scholarships, or how my schoolwork was doing, or whether I had made up my mind as to what I wanted to major in. I was screaming internally at all their intruding questions, while Seeun got off the hook talking about ordinary things. Ordinary things that would be shunned off as distractions if I were to bring them up. 

Seeun was dancing around the room with her headphones on, knocking things over and breaking my concentration in the process. 

There’s no way I’m going to get these status reports done tonight, so I figured I should stop exerting energy on them, and do something that I had been itching to do all weekend. 

Holding my breath, I went to the website that had somehow made its way into my bookmarks. All of me was pleading for him to be online, but only a part of me realized how irrational I was sounding. 

I didn’t even have time to check his status before I was thrown into an instant message with him. 

Look who decided to show up. He said, making me bite my lip to keep myself from smiling, and more important, raise any suspicion in my sister. 

I had some time. I answered cheekily. This time, I couldn’t help smiling, but my sister was so preoccupied with her pseudo-performance, she didn’t see anything but herself lip syncing in the mirror. 

Well thank you for fitting me into your busy schedule. 

I was all smiles, and didn’t even understand how I could be so affected by a faceless name. 

How are you? He asked, breaking my mood. 

I wasn’t the type to lie and answer “fine” when someone asked how I was doing. I wouldn’t exactly give my life story either, but I would give a concise, one word recap of my mood to them. Right now, I could answer “horrid” truthfully, but I didn’t want any pity. 

Stressed, and you? I responded, hoping he wouldn’t ask me to elaborate. 

I could say the same. Should I ask why? 

I was grateful that he included that question, because I needed anything but a therapist right now. Much less a therapist I wasn’t looking at face to face. 

No, please do anything but that. 

Should I distract you, then? He asked, making me crinkle my nose in skepticism. I didn’t know him well enough to know what his definition of “distracting” was. 

How? I asked with hesitation. 

A game of 21 questions, to get to know each other better. 

His response made me roll my eyes, since I knew where this game usually ended up. 

I rolled my eyes, just to let you know. 

Why? It’ll be an innocent game, I promise Natalie. 

I was close to ignoring him, but seeing him call me Natalie made my stomach drop slightly. To be honest, it made me feel special, like I was something to someone other than myself. It weakened me into agreeing. 

You ask first. I commanded. 

Alright, we’ll start off easy. Which celebrity is closest to your ideal type? 

I chuckled in response to his question, not knowing it was going to get to that subject so quickly. 

Innocent game? 

What? That’s an innocent question! 

Fine. I like SHINee’s Lee Taemin. I answered, even though I was definitely a fan of early Marlon Brando. But I felt like it was some sort of insult to James Dean, to say that I preferred Brando to him. 

You know, some people say I look like him. Only better. 

Nothing stopped me from laughing out loud at this claim. I quickly looked up to see if Seeun was observing me, but she was still entranced in her appearance in the mirror. 

Of course you do. You’re probably a better dancer, too. 

I totally am! 

Even though we didn’t know each other, I swore I could feel him smiling through those messages. 

My turn. I said, changing the subject. Who is your favorite author?

Without any hesitation, he replied J. D. Salinger. 

Salinger, huh? You like Rebel Without a Cause, and your favorite author is Salinger? You must be a giant ball of angst. 

That’s actually my nickname among my peers, yeah. He replied, and once again, I swore I felt a chuckle in his response. I didn’t want to ruin how this was making me feel by thinking about it logically. 

New rule, I typed, we’re allowed to ask for elaboration on questions we asked without it counting as a turn. 

Deal. 

Alright, then why is Salinger your favorite? I was b with curiosity. It’s not like Salinger wasn’t a popular author that people encountered, but people rarely liked him. People rarely understood him, and few I knew would list him as their favorite. 

I feel like he understands me. Especially with Catcher. I feel lost and disillusioned so often, like I’m Holden surrounded by all those phonies. I can relate, and I want to look for a deeper meaning. I want to find out where the ducks go during the winter. 

I was going to ask him to elaborate more, because I wanted to know how much of him was an alienated, cynical boy, but he cut me off before I could. 

So, if you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? 

I thought about it for as long as I could before he got impatient with me. 

Hong Kong. I answered, simply. Without him having to ask, I proceeded to elaborate. 

Not only am I in love with its visuals, but I like the extreme blending of old and new. We have that here, but I feel like I’ve been here so long, I don’t appreciate it enough like I would in a culture foreign to me. Plus, it’s so large and fast paced, so rapidly growing, I feel like it would be harder to feel lonely there. 

I don’t know why I added the last part. My loneliness was never something I wanted to admit. I had barely come to understand it myself, I didn’t think I’d blurt it out so quickly to a stranger. 

You’ve obviously never seen a Wong Kar Wai film, Nat. It’s easy to be lonely in Hong Kong. It’s easy to be lonely anywhere. 

But if I occupied myself enough, learning a language and a culture, I wouldn’t be able to focus on the loneliness. I’d be too busy to, until I got comfortable. Then I’d simply look for something new. 

My confession surprised even me. I looked up from my screen upon hearing a loud crash, and glass shattering. I found Seeun with a surprised look on her face, mid dance move. On the floor was a picture frame I cherished. I felt my face go pale, looking at it. 

“Don’t worry, I got it!” Seeun said upon seeing my face. She reached for it foolishly, without any precaution before I had time to stop her. As expected the glass broke her skin, and now she was bleeding all over the picture. 

“Crap, Seeun!” I shouted. 

I’m sorry, I have to go. I typed, not waiting for him to reply to my previous sentiment. 

What, we haven’t even asked a third of the questions yet! He protested. 

I’m sorry, something urgent came up, I have to go. We’ll continue this later. 

I closed the laptop and flung it to the side, rushing to push Seeun out of the way, handing her tissues to press against her wound in the process. My hands trembled as I tried to get the blood off of the exposed picture before it stained. Luckily, no stains were present, but the damage was already done internally. 

“I’m so sorry, Kaeun.” I whispered, clutching the photograph, cleaning up the glass in the process. 

So I've decided that I'm updating this weekly on Fridays, starting today. 

I hope you guys enjoy, I would appreciate it if you'd shoot me a comment letting me know what you think so far! Thanks so much for reading, and if any of you are suffering college students like me, good luck on your finals! 

J