I hugged myself as I sat on the far right side of the sofa. I kept my head low and feet flat on the carpeted floor. I stole a quick glance at the person on the opposite side of the couch: Jaejoong. He held an ice pack on his forehead and winced in pain whenever he moved it. He showed no sign of feeling awkward or scared; I know I was.

“Ah. What am I gonna do with you, Sunmi?” Yoochun said for the n-th time. “Mianhae, oppa.” I apologized, not even bothering to look up at him. “Yoochun, stop babying her. She’s grown up. She knows what’s right from wrong.” Jaejoong spoke followed by a painful cringe. I wanted to say I agreed with him but The Code of Big Brother-Little Sister Law clearly states that I can’t. “I can’t believe it. You know how I feel about you ‘getting involved’ with my best friends.” Yoochun ignored Jaejoong.

“Look at what happened, Sunmi. Jaejoong hyung’s lucky to have just a bump on the head and a scratch on the leg after freefalling from your window when he tried to escape. Your idea, I bet. If it weren’t for Halmuni’s bush, he’d be dead by now.” I’m confused. He was so concerned of me just a minute ago then… he says it’s my fault that Jaejoong’s injured? It wasn’t my idea… it was Jaejoong’s. My window was ten feet away from his window… it was the only way out: basic logic. Then physics suddenly butts in. For his information I’m injured too; my pride is badly hurt.

“Yoochun ah.” Jaejoong called. “Seriously, Sunmi? Jaejoong hyung? I know you’ve had a crush on him ever since you started talking but… why him??” Yoochun ignored Jaejoong again. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jaejoong demanded, setting his ice pack on the couch. Yoochun ignored him yet again. “Answer me, Sunmi. Why Jaejoong hyung?? Look at him. I know he’s attractive and quite literally radiates iness but, doesn’t he look like a ert? Or in this very special case… a e.” He glared at Jaejoong who went back to aiding his injury.

I sighed. Honestly… I don’t know what to answer. Do I need a reason? I really had no idea how to answer my brother. I can’t tell if what I feel for Jaejoong is genuine. Maybe it’s just remnant hormones from long ago…

“Don’t strain yourself, Yoochun. It was my fault.” Jaejoong spoke. I shot my gaze at him. I silently pleaded for him to stop talking. “I got drunk, I went to her room and it happened. I guess alcohol really gives me that extra push.” He smiled softly at me then at Yoochun.

“Stop talking or we’ll both get killed.” I whispered in hopes that he’ll hear it. “It was great by the way. American-raised kids sure know how to kiss!”

There goes my head, Jaejoong. Very bold move. I’ll start praying the rosary now… I’ll be dead soon.

Yoochun’s jaw dropped. “That was completely unnecessary, hyung! I didn’t have to know that!” He stumbled for words. “We only made out, by the way. I was going to take it further but I didn’t have protection with me. The last thing I want is to get Sunmi-sshi pregnant. That’s just wrong. So, I was going to check of you had any but--” He was cut short by Yoochun’s deafening scream. He stormed out of the living room, waving his arms as if to cleanse his soiled aura. He dragged his feet up the stairs then followed by the slam of a door.

The room fell silent and an awkward feeling took over me. “That got rid of him.” Jaejoong inched closer towards me. I froze in my place. “How do you handle his ing?” He asked. “Patience, I guess. And a lot of nerve.” I stood to leave the place (and the situation). He pulled on my wrist and I fell smack dab on his lap with my arms around shoulders. He smiled a lustful smile.

“You think I’ll let you get away just like that?”

~*~*~

Alone together.

See the irony? Alone and together aren’t meant to be said one after the other but, it makes sense. Somehow it does… it’s funny, really.

Alone together.

It’s strange… almost poetic. The perfect phrase to describe this moment. I was alone together with Kim Jaejoong. It’s a damn miracle. Yoochun agreed to let me ride in Jaejoong’s car even after the incident this morning. We were on our way to meet Jooeun and Yunho at that café I first met Ms. Perfect. That would ruin my day if I weren’t so happy. The world was making sense in the most complicated of ways. It’s clearly blurred. It’s cleanly messed up. I can hear ‘Don’t Stop ‘Till You Get Enough’ in my head. I can see myself walking into the sunset, dancing like a maniac. If you think all this is lovey-dovey, happy-giggly bull that means you’re one of those annoying pessimistic people. Word of advice: Life doesn’t always work the way you want it to… that’s why God invented The Bright Side… all you have to do is look at it, stupid.

So I’m not in love with this man. But nothing’s stopping me from doing just that, right? I’ve been falling for him since before I could remember… I haven’t exactly fallen. There’s a big difference. Because if I have fallen, that meant being caught, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work?

I’ve had guys come and go in my love life. I’ve had my fair share of broken hearts and noodle-legged-ness. And trust me, it’s like a rollercoaster. Each and every relationship is like a rollercoaster ride. Once it begins, it just takes over you: body, mind and soul. And once it ends, it leaves you: body mind and soul, but not entirely. Every lover you’ve had will always be a part of you… whether you like it or not, it’s true. Each and every single rollercoaster ride. You may not love him still, but a part of you grew with him… you can never take that away.

Seeing Jaejoong next to me, driving ever so slowly, made me think about all that. If I fall… will he catch me? If I’m falling, is he waiting for me? Is he going to catch me?

The future is a dangerous place. Looking straight at it is overwhelming… that’s why I do my best to avoid it. I’m living in the present and that’s all I’m supposed to care about. And the present is this: I’m in Jaejoong’s car… staring at his inexplicably gorgeous face… that’s it. No future. No past. Just this… and only this.

‘Keep on with the force, don’t stop… Don’t stop ‘till you get enough’

I love this song… It’s twisted and I loved it.

“Sunmi?” he broke the silence. “You’ve been really quiet since we left. Is there something wrong?” I smiled at him. “Nothing. I was just… thinking.” I said. He smiled back, his face brightening a bit. “Well, don’t think too much. You’ll go crazy.” He gazed back at the road, still smiling.

He was right. I will go crazy. I looked at the side mirror. Changmin’s gray Mazda followed behind us. I could see Changmin on the driver’s seat and Yoochun was on shotgun. He was talking… well, more like shouting. Changmin just sat there nodding his head. Yoochun’s probably venting out his emotions about this morning. I could read his lips saying: “I can’t believe it!”. Changmin smiled as if he found it amusing. I leaned back on my seat. I forced myself not to think anymore.

This isn’t a problem. Yoochun’s just going through the Little Sister Is Getting A New Boyfriend depression stage. It’s happened before and it’s happening right now. It’s normal.

Only this time his little sister’s new boyfriend is his life long best friend…

No. Jaejoong is NOT my boyfriend… at least not yet.

He must be going crazy right now. He’s always been paranoid about me and ‘boys’. When a guy looks at me or even tries to hit on me while he’s around, he’d whisk me away before anything ‘bad’ happens. I appreciate the care and concern but… it’s getting a little out of hand.

“Yoochun doesn’t like me, does he?” Jaejoong said.

I stammered for a while, stumbling for the right words. “He’s just… being an oppa to his dongsaeng.” I replied. “Have you ever had a boyfriend whom he liked or didn’t kill?” he joked. I laughed in reply. Maybe it was just a rhetorical question.

“Seriously. Have you?” he insisted. So it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “He’s stricter than our dad, I’d give you that. He never fully ‘liked’ any guy I brought home and introduced to our family. He’d always find something wrong with him. But I never agree with him. That’s one part of my life he can’t mess with: my love life.” I answered with a smile. That’s right, Sunmi. Grin and bear it.

We stopped in front of the café. I could already see Jooeun in her beige blouse and black slacks, sitting across Yunho. There they are: The Lying Photographer and His Fine- Partner. The two laughed in unison. It was inaudible but I wished Jooeun had an evil, ugly, witch laugh.

Honestly… who can look hot in those clothes? That girl is too perfect for her own good. I tried to picture her . She must have liposuction scars on her sides and belly… her s must be fake… she must wearing one of those body sculpting underwear things. Then again… I think I might be developing a girl crush on her. Like Yoochun’s man crush on David Craig.

When the going gets rough, the tough gets going. Adaptation. Survival.

If I am to survive in that café having to sit next to that woman I’m gonna have to blend in perfectly. Be perfect. Or at least try. Everyone can see that I’m the horse and Kwon Jooeun is the unicorn. I’d wear a fake horn if I had to.

Here we are… breathing the very same air Jooeun and Yunho are breathing. For some reason, I sat beside Jooeun with Yoochun right in front of me. Then Jaejoong slipped into the cushioned seat next to me while Changmin managed to squeeze next to Yoochun.

Three people on each bench… seat… chair… whatever. (It isn’t a chair nor is it a bench. It feels like a couch but it isn’t a couch. Whatever you call it… it’s a damn seat.) It felt crowded. Why do we have to sit here? Why can’t we sit on individual chairs like the rest of the sane people? This was probably Yunho’s idea. I know because he thinks of the dumbest things. Don’t you need math in photography? Calculate it, genius. What made you think we’d fit in here?

Jaejoong faked a yawn and stretched his arms above him. One landed on my shoulder and the other landed on his side. He slid a little lower into his seat.

All eyes were on us. I glanced at Jaejoong beside me. He was wearing a big, proud smile and was looking dead straight at…

Yunho.

“That was really lame, hyung.” Changmin sighed. Jaejoong smiled wider making his eyes disappear. Honestly… I don’t find this cute, adorable, sweet or comfortable. To prevent further damage he has to remove his arm… right… now. Yoochun was glaring at me. Or was he glaring at Jaejoong’s arm? He looks like he’s trying to use telekinetic powers to remove Jaejoong’s arm from my shoulder.

I am one tiny ant under a magnifying glass… slowly burning… turning to dust…

Is it possible to die under intense pressure? I wish I had some sort of internal hemorrhage so I’d bleed to death. I wish someone installed a bomb in my body and that the detonator had just been pressed. I closed my eyes for a second in high hopes of waking up in my bed, sleeping soundly next to Jaejoong.

But hell no.

Yunho and Yoochun were still staring deep in my soul. If they stared deeper, they’d see that I really don’t like what’s happening right now. Jaejoong’s wide smile turned into a taunting smirk either directed to Yoochun or Yunho.

Awkward silence.

The air is completely dead.

Nothing…

“Cofee?” Jooeun spoke.

Finally!

“Iced caramel macchiato. Double the shot.” I blurted.

With poison, please.

“Wow. Are you sure?” Jooeun looked at me. “Sure as hell. Where’s the waiter?” I was speed-talking now. A definite sign of nervousness, extreme anxiety and caffeine deficiency. WHERE’S THE DAMN COFFEE??

~*~*~

2 and a half bittersweet drinks later, I regained my cool and sanity. Throughout our talks in the café, no one mentioned anything about The Incident. I managed to ignore Yoochun and Yunho’s death glares and the presence of Jooeun beside me.

We were off to Yunho’s gallery. Though it wasn’t really his we all called it ‘his’ gallery. After all, his works were the next 5 months’ display.

The gallery was much simpler than how I imagined it to be. It wasn’t like a museum. It was just walls… and walls… and more walls. Pictures… and pictures… and more pictures. Yunho and Jooeun went to “the office” and allowed us roam around. I decided to venture off where everybody else wasn’t. I wanted to be alone.

I found myself on the second floor. This part of the ‘collection’ was called Life. In English… wow, I didn’t know Yunho understood English.

And so I passed by one photo after another. Life size ones, 8x11 framed ones, black and white ones, sepia ones; all of people I don’t know. People of different nationalities, races, occupations, genders and ages. There was one photo of Junsu probably taken during one of his modeling gigs. He was wearing an all-black suit, his gaze fixed on the floor and his angled in such a way to reveal his jaw line. In that photo was his professional self… his I’m-a-model-and-I’m-hot self… that side of him you can never sense when you’re actually face-to-face and having the most random conversation about keyboards. That’s what I love about him. His head’s up in the clouds because he’s looking for something… not because he just has a big head.

Of course Jooeun was in a photo too. (She revealed that she was a model as well just a few minutes ago in the café. That’s how she met Yunho.) It occupied the rest of the wall where Junsu’s photo was. Hers was a three times bigger. In that photo, she was lying on crumpled white sheets, wearing a men’s button-down black shirt and heels and her hair in complete disarray. Her red lipstick was smudged, her face stained with wet eyeliner and mascara. Her face so forlorn… depressed… suicidal. Despite it all… she was breathtakingly beautiful.

It took me a long while to avert my gaze from Jooeun’s larger than life photo. I took a few steps towards nowhere. I was sure I was lost but I didn’t mind. I can find the way out of anywhere.

I went to the other side of Junsu and Jooeun’s wall.

“Oh my god.”

I covered my mouth. My eyes blurring, my knees weakening, my heart jumping.

The entire wall was fixed with a close-up photo of much younger me.

I couldn’t see the photo clearly anymore. For some odd reason, I was crying.

“Do you like it?” a voice asked from behind me.

It was Yunho. He went towards the picture and touched it… tracing my face.

“I hope you don’t mind. It was ages ago. One of your last days in Korea before your family migrated.” He said. “You’re so beautiful, Sunmi. I hope you smile like this more often. This photo was one of the main reasons why I became so interested in photography. Knowing that with a camera… any given moment in time can be frozen.” He turned to look at me and smiled.

“Why are you crying?” I was speechless. “Sunmi…” he approached me. I took a step back. He sighed.

“Do you remember when I took this?” he asked.

Of course I did. I was playing in the swings at the playground. He asked me if he could take a picture of me with his brand new camera. It had been his birthday a few days ago. I agreed. After pushing me, he ran in front of me and took a photo. “Swing harder!” he said. I laughed and did as I was told. He took another one. “Don’t kick the camera!” he said as he took the third photo.

“I kept that photo as soon as it was developed. It turned out pretty good, didn’t it? Considering the fact that it was taken by a fourteen-year-old.” He said.

I dropped the hand that was covering my mouth. I blinked the remaining tears from my eyes. Yunho reached forward and wiped them away with his thumb. He cupped my chin and leaned closer…

And closer…