Muse

The appointed meeting place was a neat coffee shop in a busy street of Itaewon. The shop was simple, dominated with warm wood and black furniture, big window glass at the sides of the café, and the most interesting fact is this: they serve high quality coffee—since the coffee shop roasted its own coffee beans: so even from afar, I could smell nice aroma of coffee.

Uh, oh.

Why did I come to fetch the last draft, instead of Junryeol-hyung?

You probably have so many theory about ‘why I come to Taeyeon-Junryeol-hyung’s-meeting’, but let me get the fact straight for you. I came because Junryeol-hyung had given me his permission to attend the meeting after long and difficult persuasion—because he understood my desperation and unsolved matters with Taeyeon.

Back to the long awaited day, I deliberately came 20 minutes late for a few simple reasons, but the most important one was to prevent her to run away when she see me come for her, instead of Junryeol-hyung.

Two years may have passed, but we didn’t know her heart condition, right? I might have apologized for numerous times through email, but what if she hasn’t forgiven me? What if she despise looking at me? Numerous what if questions popped continuously in my head, but I tried my best to erase those questions. I’ve changed for better, haven’t I? Meeting Taeyeon would become another change in the making, and I couldn’t waste the precious chance to change myself to become a better man—a better Kwon Jiyong.

I opened the coffee shop door and headed straight to the order station. After placing my order, waiting, and finally getting my glass of latte, I finally looked for ‘her’.

Her, the one who I really missed.

Her, the one who have filled my mind and heart for the past 2 years.

Her, the one whose latest work have been intriguing my mind.

Her, whose name is Kim Taeyeon.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked to a short blond haired woman seated next to the window seat. She looked fresh and lovely with pink button-up shirt, white shorts, and white sandals. She turned her head to face me slowly, and immediately smile when she look at me.

“No, mister,” she replied calmly. “I’ll be glad if you can take that seat.”

‘This is the exact same conversation as 2 years ago in Bali.’ I said to myself as I occupied the seat and settled myself. I put my latte on the table and hung my bag on the bag hanger under the table. The blond haired woman haven’t said anything to me, neither did I.

Surprise was evident in her face, but she tried to keep her cool in front of me. She took my appearance in a good light, I assumed.

“How are you?” I finally broke the silence after a long five minutes. For five minutes, we only looked at each other—absorbing each other’s presence and release longing silently—and sipped our respective coffees. “Are you doing well?”

Kim Taeyeon—the table’s occupant—smiled to my question. She nodded her head to my question. “I’m really fine and doing really well these days, Jiyong.”

“Glad to hear that.” I said my words carefully. Taeyeon didn’t show any resistence nor uneasiness with my presence, but I had to be careful. “Anyway, I come here to replace Junryeol-hyung.”

“Where is Junryeol-oppa?” Taeyeon asked with raised eyebrows. “He has been fussing about my whereabouts for the longest time, but he isn’t here to welcome me...”

“Don’t blame him,” I let out my boyish grin when saying this. “I was the one who ask him to let me come in his place.”

“So, you’re changing path into an editor now?”

“Nope.” I said with finality and confidence, because there is no way I’d choose a career as a very busy editor. “I’m still a writer, but his ‘daughter’s’ latest work is really interesting and intriguing.”

Taeyeon was certainly taken aback with my words. I just stated indirectly that I’ve read her latest work—something you couldn’t do unless you pull lots of strings and effort, even for someone from the publishing industry. “You’ve read my latest work?”

“I have.” I nodded. “If I haven’t, why I come to this place instead of him?”

“I don’t know what to say actually.” She laughed quietly. She seemed okay with me reading her latest work. “Anyway, many things can happen and... well, here it is.” Taeyeon took a big brown envelope from her bag and handed it to me. “This is the last chapter of my latest work.”

I received the big brown envelope from her with respectful manner. “Before I read it, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Have you read my latest work, Muse?” Taeyeon nodded at my question. She didn’t get surprised or taken aback though.

“Then, please read this.” I took out a similar big brown envelope from my bag and handed the envelope to her. “This is an additional chapter which hasn’t been published.”

We both opened the envelopes at the same time and pulled out the contents at the same time too. The conversation died down for a good hour due to our concentration to our latest works.

We read in silence—with distant sound of coffee brewing and other visitors chatter accompanying us and a few sips of coffee. We were both engrossed and captivated into every sentences, phrases, and words we wrote, because every sentences, phrases, and words were honest confession of us—and will somehow determine ‘our’ future.

I put down Taeyeon’s last chapter on the table. The moment I finished reading the chapter, I couldn’t lie but feel happy, relieved, and sad at the same time. The whole story—from the first chapter to the last chapter—is a really honest and full of emotion. Taeyeon did a great job to deliver the main character emotion to the readers.

When I put down Taeyeon’s draft, I saw her still reading my work. It couldn’t be helped though since I wrote a lot of things in that chapter. I wrote a lot of things I need to say to my muse in that additional chapter. It contains my honest emotion, confession, misery, longing, and desperation for my muse—that had been missing for 2 years.

Suddenly, tears brimmed at Taeyeon’s eyes. She was still reading my work—the last pages, I guessed—and tears finally escaped her expressive eyes at the very last page. I still didn’t say anything to her, only silently handed tissue to her direction—which, she accepted silently.

She had read to the last page, but she turned a few pages earlier again, as if she didn’t believe in the content of my work; as if she was a teacher who was looking for her student’s grammatical error. Minutes had passed when she finally put down my work and looked at me with teary eyes.

 “I...” She was lost for words. I knew, I already saw this coming. After going through a lot of hard things, she must have a lot of things to say.

“Sssh,” I shut by putting my finger on her lips—not letting her to speak. “Let me say a few things first.”

She looked reluctant, but nodded nonetheless. I fixed my seating position to get more comfortable—since this would be a very long talk—and began to speak.

“First of all, let me apologize to you for what happened in Bali. I know I was so selfish and not considerate towards you and your condition. I regret that we parted in bad terms, I regret I haven’t properly apologize to you, I regret that I chose to give up on you on that day. For those, I’m sorry...” I started slowly. Taeyeon wanted to cut my words, but hesitated when he saw my stern expression.

“Then, if you’ve been reading about me and my latest work—Muse—for the past months, I want to confirm a few things to you. It’s something I want to say in person.” I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. She unconsciously did so too.

“Yes, I base Muse on my own experience. As you’ve known, it’s a story of my journey to find my muse with the help of my angel—which is you, Kim Taeyeon.” I said her name in one breath. She didn’t looked surprised since I’ve said it a few times in Bali. “And because of that angel, I finally find my muse.”

“Who is your muse Ji?” Taeyeon asked in genuine curiosity. I didn’t know what she was thinking at that time, so I had to make wild guess about the reason of her reaction.

“My angel transformed,” I said slowly. “She transformed herself into a Goddess named Muse—to be exact, Calliope.”

Taeyeon was obviously shocked at my revelation. I indirectly said that she is my muse—my inspiration, the soul of my work, and the reason I write. She didn’t expect this coming, I assumed.

“You gotta be kidding me...” Taeyeon said in disbelief. “You must have made a mistake Jiyong. A woman like me couldn’t be an angel neither a goddess for a man like you. I’m mere travel writer with a broken so