Mark and Wendy—like everyone else in this world—have dreams. But just like everyone else, their parents’ have their own dreams for them… and it just so happened that those dreams are different from their own.

We all know that dreams are supposed to be our own and not some else’s. It was supposed to be what keeps us awake… it was supposed to be what we were thinking at 3AM when we can’t sleep. Dreams are supposed to be what you hear when the world is screaming different things or something that will talk to you or you talk to when you run out of friends to speak to.

Wendy just finished performing. Kind of. Her cousin invited her over for a New Year’s Eve party and there are only over 25 people. Everyone seems to know everyone. Except her, of course. They are all from Arcadia but she’s from Long Beach. Everyone’s friendly but she still feels out of place so when she noticed the guy that Jackson—the guy who greeted her with warmest smile and talked to her like they’ve been friends for years—had been hanging out with is sitting alone in the couch, she approached him.

She sat beside him and handed him a red cup, “Why don’t you drink this instead of that boring soda?” she pointed at the can of coke he was holding.

He gave her the smallest smile, “I’m good with this.” He reasoned out. The truth is that he’s not a good drinker. He’d been in the best parties during his high school years but he only got really drunk once and it didn’t turn out well. He’s not friends with alcohol that much but he’s not going to tell her that.

“Come on,” she insisted, “Unless that coke is spiked with vodka or something…”      

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” she grinned and then he accepted the cup.

She gulped down the remaining content of her cup and threw the cup away, “I’m Wendy,” she introduced herself, “And I’m the only stranger in this room.” She was supposed to say we instead of I but decided against it.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You people seems to know each other like you have been all doing this for years.”

He took a sip in his cup. He fell silent. He don’t know what to say. “So are you like me?” Wendy asked again, “Why are you not hanging out with anyone?”

“Because I’m hanging out with you right now?”

Her lips curled up, “Smartass. I don’t have a witty comeback to that.” She acted cool but she’s already freaking out. Is he flirting with her?

“I know everyone here…” he glanced around and after that, he stared in her eyes, “Except you.”

“I already introduced myself,” she crinkled her nose and stood up. She grabbed two red cups again with god-knows-what are in there, “I’m Wendy.”

“Alright Wendy,” he gulped the content of his cup and let out a gagging sound but Wendy ignored it, “tell me about yourself.” He is definitely flirting with her.

“Here,” she handed him (again) a red cup, “I’m majoring at Human Bio & Soc in UCLA and I’ll be graduating this spring.”

“That’s really interesting, Wendy,” he shook his head and she’s not sure whether he’s being sarcastic or honest but it’s probably the former, “Are you planning to be a researcher or is it a premed?”

“I don’t know.” She’s not even a good drinker herself but right now, all she wants to do is drown herself with alcohol so when she emptied her cup, she feels like she’s in a roller coaster, “My parents dream for me is to become a doctor but,” But? He guessed that she doesn’t want it. This night isn’t as bad as he imagined it. “I want music. You know… I want to live with music and not with anatomical terms… I want to teach children about the melodies and rhythm and… I don’t know.”

“You should pursue it if you really want it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know…”

“That’s my answer, too,” the music stopped and the TV is already on, “I don’t know,”

The countdown has begun.

…7

 She leaned closer to him and he’s literally inhaling her breath.

…6

“I feel like I’m on the downside, tell me your name,” she pinched his cheek, “What’s your name, pretty boy?” oh how he hated being called a pretty boy. Pretty boy, to him, is synonymous to petty boy.

…3

“My name’s Mark,”

“Interesting.” She distanced herself away from him, “I like it. I like your name.”

“Happy New Year!”

Everyone’s making noise, throwing cups, kissing… “You like it? It’s very common.”

“Who cares?” she tilted her head so she can catch his eyes, “I want to kiss you right now.”

“Do it,” he said with a low voice, “You still have time.”

And so she did. The kiss lasted for five seconds. Their lips didn’t even move. They didn’t get to taste the liquor in each other’s mouth. Lame. “Not enough time.” She giggled because she remembered her first kiss. It was just as lame.

“Not enough time.” He repeated.

“Tell me about yourself, Mark.”

“I’m also about to graduate this spring.”

“And?”

“Chemical engineering. My dad wants me to follow his footsteps.”

“Ah, I think we have the same problem here. Let me guess, it’s not what you want?”

“I want to be a Psychiatrist.” He admitted.

“That’s cool…” there’s a faraway look in her eyes, she looks like she’s planning something.

“I thought you don’t like medicine.” He pointed out.

“As long as it’s not me, it’s cool.”

“If you say so.”

“Mark?”

He blew air through his lips, the smell of liquor filled Wendy’s nose “What are you thinking?” he asked. He emptied his cup and this time, he’s the one who stood up and instead of just getting a cup or two, he brought the whole tray with him, “Here,” he handed her a cup as he settle down the tray on the coffee table.

“You’re planning to get wasted?”

“There are only seven cups left in this tray,” maybe enough to make two people brave, “Let’s not waste the money they wasted for alcohol.”

They talked about random things. Mostly about their dreams. She talked about her parents who introduced her to the world of music but won’t allow her to pursue it. He talked about Donnie Darko and Perception and a lot of movies and tv series’ about mental disorders that made him want to pursue psychiatry. They talked about being wrapped around their parents’ fingers. They talked about having no choice over something. They talked and talked and talked until they ran out of things to talk to. They’re both drunk, that’s for sure.

They are laughing uncontrollably and Jackson, Mark’s friend and the person who welcomed Wendy with the warmest smile, noticed them. So he tried joining the two. He saw how red Mark’s body is. He saw how happy he looked. He saw how she’s holding on to his hands so tightly. “Guys,” they looked at him, “Just get married.” He joked and then leave them by their own.

“You know what,” she let go of his hands and kneeled in front of him, it doesn’t help that he can’t think straight so he’s hundred times confused about what she’s doing. Is she going to give him a ? ? Uh, uh. He’s wrong, of course. “Let’s get married.”

His eyes were half closed but they snapped open when she said those words. He didn’t say anything but her words keep on ringing in his ears. Let’s get married. Let’s get married. Let’s get married. “Seriously?” somehow all his drunkenness disappeared, not totally but still. “Come again?”

“I said,” she stood up and put near his ear, “let’s get married!” she screamed. He pushed her. Is she serious? “I mean,” she shook her head like she’s trying to get the alcohol away from her system, “I may be drunk but,” she pointed at herself, “I’m serious.”

“Aren’t all drunk people serious?”

“Not everyone.”

A week later, they’re married.

They obtained marriage license, got married in a small room with Jackson and her cousin as the witnesses, signed marriage certificate and they’re Mr. & Mrs. Tuan.

Their parents aren’t furious—maybe a little disappointed that they didn’t invite them—but they will be if they know the real reason why they got married. They married each other to escape. They married each other so they can go somewhere far and pursue what they really want. They are each other’s escapes. Runaways. Kind of. Because being married to someone means being in charge of yourself. And the supposed family.

They moved to a small apartment somewhere near to both UCLA and USC. Just… somewhere in the middle.

They have separate rooms, they barely see each other, they only text each other or give a call when needed like when they have to pay for their bills or if someone wants pizza.

They lived like that for months and for both of them, nothing really changed. Except for Wendy who had her last name changed. They never kissed after that night at the party, never really touched each other, never had . It was just like living with a roommate.

They waited until for their graduation before executing their plan.

“So, where’s Mark?” Wendy looked at her friend, “Your husband, duh.”

“In his own graduation ceremony.” She rolled her eyes. They should stop asking about Mark. She really can’t say anything about the guy. She barely even know him. Maybe not barely but she doesn’t know anything real about him. Except his dreams.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her friend’s expression is filled with sympathy so she brushed her away.

“I’m fine, okay? This is just a ceremony.”

She’s fine. Of course. But it would’ve been better if Mark is there to celebrate with her.

They arrived almost at the same time in their apartment, “So,” Wendy scanned Mark’s face, “Do you want to eat out?” They never ate out after their wedding. “I mean, to celebrate. You know, greater things are just about to happen and—”

“You babble a lot, Wendy.” Mark said but there’s something with the way he said it. Like he’s fond of it or something.

She just stood there, not knowing what to say. “Uh, so, shall we?”

“Sure.”

Since Wendy sold her car just few weeks ago, she’s going to ride with Mark now. For the very first time. San Francisco Conservatory of Music already accepted her months ago and she’s ready for the upcoming semester. Mark received his acceptance letter from UCSF—Med school a few days ago so everything’s set. They’re off to SF in few days. To pursue their dreams and live the life they’ve been meaning to.

They have contacted the landlady of the apartment they’re going to live in. They are so ready to move. So a two weeks later, they’re resting in their respective rooms in their apartment. In San Francisco.

Mark was hired by his father’s friend in a petroleum company. He’s working part time there and the pay’s not that bad but since the semester has yet to start, he’s working full time at the moment. He also has his trust fund with him and he was able to snatch a spot for scholarship in med school. He didn’t expect that but they were impressed with his academic records. Science and math are his favorites so no wonder. Wendy found jobs in coffee shops and restaurants around the streets of San Francisco. It was tiring but she loves what she’s doing. She also got a scholarship which is good. And her trust fund plus the money from her car that she sold.

Everything is new to them. Even the weather and all things not-so-LA-ish.

They’ve been living the way they used to in LA. But a little different this time. Or maybe a whole lot different. They have to earn their own money, pay their rents with their money, and they get to live their dream.

Christmas Eve came and Wendy prepared chocolate cake and bunch of cookies she baked herself. Mark ordered pizza and Buffalo wings for them to share. The case here is that Wendy is really good at baking but she can’t cook. And Mark can’t either. “But I can make fries,” he bragged. She rolled her eyes.

“Go make it. Make sure I’m going to like it, okay?”

“You’re going to love it.”

He sliced potatoes and deep fried them.

Mark’s fries are not considered a masterpiece. It was so simple that even Wendy can make it. He just added salt, pepper and basil leaves. It’s nothing special, actually. But he made it so she loved it. She really did.

At exactly 1AM, they decided to munch off the cake that Wendy baked. He hated chocolate cake. He used to. To him, it was plain and common and can be made by anyone. Like his fries. But something about Wendy’s chocolate cake made him addicted to the taste of sweetness of melted chocolate in his mouth. He loved it. And he will always will.

“Mark…”

“Yeah?”

“Are we going to divorce each other?” they never talked about this because they are both trying to avoid the topic… it’s their way of keeping their secret. And probably, their way to avoid problems.

“Do you want to?” he sounds nervous. Something that Wendy never heard from his voice before.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“All I need is your honesty, Wendy.”

“Fine,” she put her face centimeters away from his face. “I kind of want us to be real. I mean,” how is she going to say the things she’s about to say? She opened their fridge to get water but she found a bottle of soju, “Can I finish this first?” he chuckled first before giving her nod. He’s confused and nervous and he doesn’t know what to feel.

He waited for her to finish her soju. “I want us to be real.”

“You said that already.”

“No, I mean—” she sighed exasperatedly, “I want us to be like a real married couple.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“But… do we love each other, Wendy?”

His question made the world around them disappear. Do they love each other? Or they’re just sticking to each other because of the plan? The dreams? “We… we are each other’s escape.”

He tried catching her gaze but she’s really good at avoiding his. “That’s not my question.”

“But that’s my answer.”

New Year’s Eve. The electricity is out for whatever reason. And Wendy is hiding in her duvet. She hates the dark and her phone ran out of battery so she has nothing she can use as a source of light. Mark’s out with his friends so she’s spending the New Year alone. It doesn’t matter, though. She can live. But she’ll feel better if there’s an actual source of light.

She sighed and lied flat on her stomach. She has no one—wait—she has Mark. But she can’t ask him to spend the night with her just because she’s scared of the dark.

Minutes later, surprisingly, she heard the door open. The electricity is still out so it big time. Mark entered the apartment and silence welcomed him. He used his phone’s flashlight because maybe, Wendy is just around their little dining table eating pecan pie and drinking eggnog in the dark. But she’s nowhere to be found so he checked in her room. And there she is, hiding herself from the darkness.

“Hey,” she almost jumped, “Are you okay?” she can feel relief running through her veins when he saw Mark with all his glory, bringing light with him as he walk. Literally and figuratively.

“I, uh, yeah.” It was awkward. They kind of stopped talking after the Christmas Eve incident. “I’m okay now.”

“How about a while ago?” He sat on the edge of her bed and she wants to reach out her hand so he can hold it. So she can hold her. “Are you scared of the dark?”

“I…” she looked away, “I have nyctalopia. I can’t see properly in dim lights… especially in darkness.”

“You should’ve told me that before.”

She studied his face, “How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me too.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

He lied down beside her. “Can I stay here?”

“Why?” she replied. Almost a whisper. Since Christmas Eve, Mark seems to be the air in her lungs.

“I just want to.” Then Mark’s phone died. Wendy froze so Mark held her hand. “Is it okay?”

She gave him a nod but when she realized that she can’t see him, she said yes. “Can you not let go of it?”

He squeezed it. “I promise.” And she feels better.

Years have passed and they are both back in Los Angeles. Although it kind of feels weird being with each other again, it was also kind of beautiful. And melancholic. It’s like hearing a nursery rhyme… a song you used to sing when you were in primary song, the first piece you’ve ever played in your piano, and the first few words you say to a friend.

Mark removed his sweater and in a sliver of moment, Wendy was looking again at the person she tried to love. And the person who tried to love her. “Where’s Brian?” he asked.

“He’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” his eyebrows raised, “He’s going to make us wait?”

“I made sure to invite you an hour early so we can talk.”

“Talk about what?” he asked innocently.

“What we should be talking about.”

They tried to make their “marriage” work. He went to all her recitals, she supported her in everything. But everything that they did for each other is something that a friend can do. So when Mark was officially Dr. Mark Tuan, M.D., they moved to LA again. Filed a divorce and separated ways.

She went to Seoul and there she met her new husband. Also a great musician like her. They just clicked. The moment that they met, she just knew. It was different with Mark. Although they kissed for few times, kisses with Brian are different. Way too different from all the boys who touched her lips.

“You know if you think you can play with my little head, you are so wrong.” She said as she the hair of her child.

“I’m not playing head games, though.” He grinned and she respond with a bigger grin.

“Uncle Mark do you have a girlfriend?” Mark shot Wendy a look when Dria spoke.

“I’m too busy to have one, Dri.”

“But are you busy enough to not babysit me?” smart kid, Mark thought.

“Are you sure she’s not my child?” he joked. Wendy rolled her eyes, “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to stay in my place again?”

“I’d love to!” the child is now beaming at him.

“This kid can’t stop talking about you.”

“I will marry Uncle Mark, Mommy.” The kid announced. “If he doesn’t have a girlfriend, I will be. And then we’re going to get married.”

“You can’t marry Uncle Mark, sweetie.”

“Why not?”

“Just because.”

“Okay so what is it that you want to talk about?”

She took a sip on her coffee and allowed her child to play with other kids on the corner. “So… it didn’t work out with Therese McKinon, Agatha Love, and that Japanese girl Sana. We’re so close to getting old and you’re still single.”

“Does it matter, though?”

“Yeah. You need someone, Mark.”

“Maybe I’m fine being alone.”

“Maybe not.” She countered. “I’m just worried about you, okay?”

“Well you don’t have to be.” He assured her. “When I found her, you’re going to be the first person who will know.”

“Okay. And I’ll help you propose to her.”

“Such a romantic.”

“Who cares?”

Platonic love. That’s all they have with each other. Well, at least that’s what Wendy thought.

It didn’t work out with Therese McKinon, Agatha Love and Japanese girl Sana because all these years, he had only been so in love with one girl. And no matter what he does (or will do), she will never love him the way he loves her.

He loved her like she was the sun. She was, still is, the oxygen in his carbon dioxide filled lungs. She was the rain that comforted him when he’s down. She was the pillow, the hand, the hankie, the phone, the stethoscope, and the nurse. She was—still is—his everything. His Thunder just like that Boys Like Girls song. But he will never tell her that. Not because he’s a coward but because he’s not selfish. He wants her for himself but among everything else, he wants her happiness.

They said you should follow your dreams and believe in it. They did. But life doesn’t work out the way they want it. Life has its ups and downs and curves and bumps. It’s as unpredictable as the weather, as crazy and wild and beautiful and scary as drunk people in the best parties. But most of all, life is not constant. It’s not like the pi or the formula for acceleration or the loyalty of a dog.

That’s why Mark and Wendy’s love story never really ended. Sure, it started into something… beautiful. But their love story will never have an end to it. Because life is never constant. And if everyone will look at the world this way, no story, not a single one, in the history of histories had the ending it deserved. And if the story didn’t deserve the ending it was entitled to have, it has no ending because unsatisfied people will always make up their own endings. Different endings for different people. And that’s the beauty of it.

"this isn't the end. this isn't even the beginning of the end.
however, this is the end of the beginning."
Winston Churchill

***

Uhm, maybe I just can't stop writing. And I'm way too inspired by Rainbow Rowell's Midnights. Read it if you feel like it. You won't regret. I Promise.
AND thank you. :) I don't usually do this but do tell me what you think of this?