Don't try to deny the fact you enjoyed our kisses! Baekwoon's words replayed in her mind. Jiyeon bit her lower lip slightly, her face contorted, thinking over his words. Did he talk about the kisses they shared in her dreams? Through her dreams Baekwoon, the man whose voice she'd been hearing, interacted physically with her? Her first kiss was with a ghost? She shook her head vigorously as a shiver ran through her body, trying to rid herself of such thoughts.

"Dreams are not reality," she told herself out loud.

"Who says they are reality!"     "Our dream is real when we are asleep physically and awake in the dream world!"               

Startled by sudden shouts, Jiyeon jumped backwards. She couldn't distinguish their voices. They sounded the same to her. "Byun Baekhyun, Byun Baekwoon! I wasn't talking to you guys; I was talking to myself!" she screamed, frustration clear in her tone.

Baekhyun, who was still holding his stomach, gave her a sympathetic look, and his voice was soft as he spoke: "Jiyeon, I think you need to seek professional help before it is too late. I know a good therapist. I can take you there if you—"  

"I'm not stupid enough to fall for a therapy scam. People with psych degrees need clients in order to sustain their careers. Diagnoses are needed for return visits, but even more important, diagnoses are needed to get paid by insurance companies. If you don't have money, then you won't be looked after, correct?" Jiyeon snapped through clenched teeth, her jaw muscles clenched in anger.

Baekhyun looked startled, his eyes blinking rapidly. "N-no, you're wrong—"   

"So-called "experts" believe they can read people's minds and tell people how to behave. They delude themselves into believing such nonsense"—Jiyeon let out an angry breath through her nose—"only we can allow what changes us and what doesn't. Only we can see within ourselves, no one else. Only we—"      

"Functional MRI can tell what a person is think—"

"That's bull! Neuroimaging cannot show us what is going on in the mind of the person! It shows us what parts of the brain "light up" in bright reds, oranges, yellows and blues. Statistical software is the thing that's actually interpreting the data from the fMRI scans—by looking at brain data, scientists can make guesses about what a person is doing," Jiyeon interrupted him fiercely. "Every time the amygdala "lights up", does it mean you are experiencing fear? Of course not! The amygdala doesn't just "light up" in response to fearful stimuli. It "lights up" in response to all sorts of emotional stimuli, negative and positive. The amygdala is not the "fear center" of the brain! So-called the "hate circuit" of the brain the putamen and insula also "light up" when you are being faced with something you love. A brain scan doesn't really end up telling you anything useful; fMRI is nothing more than high-tech phrenology—it does not directly measure electrical activity of the neurons: it monitors blood flow."  

Baekhyun let out an audible sigh, but she could not read his expression to know what it meant. "No one can deny the fact that fMRI produces an indirect measure of brain activity, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. Not only do you hate psychology and psychiatry, but you are skeptical of brain scans. What are you? A scientist?"

With a sigh leaving her lips, Jiyeon ran her fingers through her hair before stepping closer to him. Baekhyun took a step backwards, saying: "A-are you going to punch me again?"

He seemed to be afraid of her. For each step that she took closer to him, Baekhyun took a step backwards. Pedestrians swerved to avoid bumping into him. Jiyeon stopped in her tracks, seeing him bump into a lamp-post.

Baekhyun turned around and kicked the iron pole with his foot, saying: "Damn, you deserve a kick." Then he spun back around to face her. "The lamp-post has hit me." His voice rose as his face reddened. "Don't punch me again, okay?"

"That's such a ridiculous statement! You were accusing the lamp-post, a senseless, inanimate object, of hitting you when in fact you were the one who bumped into it and kicked it. Are you nuts?" Jiyeon retorted, raising her voice.

Baekhyun ruffled his hair, narrowing his eyes at her like an angry cat. Jiyeon didn't flinch—didn't even blink. Her rising anger made her stomach churn. She took a deep breath, trying not to let her anger get the best of her.

She dropped her voice down a bit as she continued: "Who says I'm going to punch you. I'm going to answer your question. Where would we be without critical thinking? It is who we are. It is a tool for survival. As a mathematician, I absolutely don't believe in fMRI studies. The notion that brain scans can 'read minds' is nuts. Like I said before, fMRI is nothing more than high-tech phrenology. I admit that the images of glowing brains are so cool. Those brightly colored brain images are not real-time pictures of actual brain activity; they are statistical compilations of a number of individual brains in a study. The relationship between the stimulus used and the blood flow response is correlational; correlation as a statistic isn't able to explain why or how the relationship between two variables, x and y, exists—" she paused, gulping air before she added, "Let me tell you something. The sample sizes in fMRI studies are laughably small; fMRI results are notoriously inconsistent from one study to the next. Functional MRI will never be a mind reader. It's impossible to analyze individual neurons in living humans. Scientists actually study computer models of data, not actual brains; they know very, very, very little about the human brain. It's mainly a matter of guessing, hoping and a lot of fantasy. And your field of study, psychology is a pseudoscience. Psychology studies the mind. The mind is not a thing; it's a philosophical abstraction with no physical existence—it cannot be objectively quantified and studied, a basic requirement for science. Mental phenomena cannot be measured! Psychology is all opinion and labeling. Simply using scientific tools does not make science! Got it, Mr. Playboy?" Jiyeon shot him one last glare before turning on her heel. She briskly walked along the sidewalk, gritting her teeth.               

"Hey, thank you for lecturing me! Where are you going? Don't you want to visit my brother's grave? I've made a promise to my aunt that I'll take you there!"

Jiyeon heard Baekhyun shout. However, she didn't break stride, didn't bother to look back. Anger was still hot in her heart.

How dare he tell me I need a therapist! Yes, I do hear a voice and have a fear of balloons, but that doesn't mean I'm sick and need help. The psychiatric profession is filled with quacks who make a living off other people's gullibility. No one knows enough about how the brain works to make the claim that neurotransmitters in the brain are the cause of people's problems. Mental illness doesn't exist. It is a reification. The mind, an abstract concept, cannot be ill. All the so-called "diagnoses" in the DSM were invented for drug profits and social control, not discovered under a microscope. The diagnosis of 'sluggish schizophrenia' has been used to incarcerate and silence political dissidents. It is no secret that psychiatry and medicine were weapons used against political opposition in the twentieth century.   

Emotions such as depression, anxiety, anger, et cetera are not diseases. Depression is a perfectly rational reaction of a sane person living in an insane and cruel world. Anxiety is simply telling us we're alive. Anger is a normal response to something which pisses us off. Whether mental, emotional or physical, pain is a natural part of our existence and is there to teach us a certain lesson. It is absolutely wrong to call behaviors diseases. The very idea of having a mental illness assumes we cannot change things at will: we cannot do anything about our feelings and behaviors without psychiatry's "magic pills" and/or "psychotherapy". The fact is we can change. We do have a lot of power over our well-being and health. It all starts with loving ourselves…  

Baekwoon's soft voice crooned in her ear, interrupting her thoughts: "Love is the best healer. All your emotions, if you handle it with love—it will just empower you." 

"You're right." Jiyeon slowed her steps to a stroll and took a deep breath. She blew it out slowly between pursed lips. "Sorry, I can't visit your grave today. Your twin brother has ruined my mood, and I'm so tired. I need to get some sleep." She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, remembering that she had not yet cleaned her mattress. She stopped by a park with a small fountain in the middle surrounded by benches. Looking around, she saw no one else there.

"It's relaxing to spend a few moments here." Jiyeon smiled as she threw her bag in the grass before she lay down under a fig tree. The afternoon sun filtering through the leaves was warm and pleasant.   

His voice sounded worried when it whispered in her right ear: "My girl, go home and take rest in your room. Don't sleep here—" 

"Just let me sleep, okay, I'm so tired." Jiyeon closed her eyes. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind soothed her and gently carried her off into a dreamless sleep.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open when she heard music as if caught on the wind, the light strumming of a guitar and the melodic sound of a man's voice—soft yet strong voice. Jiyeon hauled herself into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes with a yawn. Her face broke into a smile, seeing her student sit on a wooden bench, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun a couple of meters away from her. Jaehyun had his eyes closed while his fingers strummed the strings of the brown acoustic guitar fluidly.

A small crowd gathered around him. Some people listened for a few seconds, and then moved on. Others walked by, as if he weren't even there. How could they? Leaping to her feet, Jiyeon grabbed her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and sauntered towards him. She stood before him, watching him.

It seemed very obvious that he was enjoying himself. He rhythmically swayed his head, like a metronome, eyes still closed as he belted out: "I hear a voice whisper in my ear. Heartfelt words only I can hear. Calming yet eerie. She speaks to me like I'm her boy; in darkness, she shows me the light. I feel confused: 'Who are you stranger?' Don't know who or where she comes from, I wish I could see her face, as clearly as I could hear her voice. Sometimes, I wonder if it could be a hallucination, a trick of the mind."

The mixture of his mesmerizing voice and rhythmic guitar playing was the perfect combination of music and magic. Jiyeon was completely enthralled.

"My girl, don't fall for him. He's your student," Baekwoon's angry voice rang in her ear. "I can play guitar and sing too."

"Would you please stop reminding me of who he is?" Jiyeon muttered quietly, watching Jaehyun's left hand intently—the way his fingers seemed to dance over the strings; she was amazed at how smoothly they changed chords. He didn't even need to look down.

"Don't fall for him! You're too old for him! You're mine, all mine! Do you understand?" Baekwoon's deep voice boomed so loudly that Jiyeon covered her ears with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut.

"What you're claiming doesn't make sense. I never even met you," Jiyeon countered aloud.

She felt a light tap over her right shoulder. Jiyeon opened her eyes to see Jaehyun stand right in front of her, holding the guitar in his left hand. Jaehyun bent down a little to match her height. "Teacher Park, are you alright?" he asked, giving her a concerned smile.

Did Jaehyun hear what she just said? Well, she didn't care. She had already told the whole class that she was a schizophrenic. Smiling broadly, Jiyeon nodded. "I'm fine. That song you just sang—did you write it? I've never heard it before. The lyrics remind me of my voice hearing experience. Are you a voice-hearer too?"   

"So you watched me sing." Jaehyun scratched his forehead awkwardly. "I was exploring and playing notes when those words floated through my mind. I simply sang whatever words came into my mind. Teacher Park, I'm still curious about your experience as a voice-hearer. I wonder how it feels like to be in your shoes."

"We can never know what it's like to be another person. Every individual is unique and reacts differently even on the same issue," Jiyeon responded in a gentle voice. "Jaehyun, your guitar skills are amazing, and your voice sounds great. I'll be your number one fan if you become a singer."  

A small smile appeared on his face. "Thank you; that's a lovely thing to say. My dream isn't to become a singer. I love playing guitar because no matter how I feel, it can always make it more. If I feel sad, and I play something sad, it gives me an even deeper sadness. It's more satisfying. It's like every note I play can express something that words simply cannot." Jaehyun sat back down on the bench and nestled the guitar on his lap. He plucked a string idly, producing a low note.

"I see." Jiyeon took a seat beside him. "What's your dream?"

Jaehyun tilted his head to the side and met her eyes. "I want to be a professional chef. I would like to own my own restaurant and to be my own boss," he replied, enthusiasm lacing his voice.

"It's nice to hear you have a dream you want to pursue. In order to make great things happen in your life, you need to have a dream of what it is you want. Your dreams will come true as long as you believe in them and yourself," Jiyeon said as she patted his back encouragingly.

"Thank you," Jaehyun said, "believing in ourselves sounds like very wise advice." His eyes crinkled as his smile deepened, the dimples winking in his cheeks.

Perhaps it was the dimples that appeared in his cheeks. Perhaps it was the way his brown eyes crinkled when he smiled. Whatever the reason, the smile warmed her and made her heart beat faster.

"Let me repeat again so that you do not forget: he's your student! You're too old, too old for him! You're mine, all mine!" Baekwoon's voice boomed in her ears louder than before, which made her heart beat even faster she thought it might actually explode from her chest.

Closing her eyes, Jiyeon inhaled deeply through her nose. She held her breath for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled through pursed lips. She inhaled again and repeated the process until she felt her heart rate down a notch.

Baekwoon's low and tender voice whispered in her right ear, "My girl, go home now, don't make your mother worry where you are."

She opened her eyes to find Jaehyun's gaze still fixed on her. His intense gaze made her feel nervous. Jiyeon swallowed hard, trying to allay her nervousness. "I very much enjoy your playing and singing," she managed to say in a calm tone. "I think I'll go home now." She rose to her feet.

Jaehyun tenderly grabbed her hand and looked up. "Uh-huh, if you don't mind, let me take you home," he said in a low voice. Jiyeon looked down at his hold on her hand, and he quickly released it.

The voice echoed in her left ear: "My girl, don't accept his offer."

God, she didn't like being ordered around. She was sure what she was going to say would upset the voice. "Oh, I don't mind if it gives you any pleasure," Jiyeon responded, smiling lightly. Jaehyun nodded, beaming. She immediately clapped her hands over her ears, anticipating the voice's response.

"My silly girl," the voice thundered louder with every word, "why didn't you listen to your own heart's voice!"

Exactly the response she had expected. "Baekwoon, let me tell you: you're not my heart's voice but a ghost," Jiyeon mumbled, watching Jaehyun as he reached under the bench. He grabbed a black gig bag and put the guitar into it.

"I'm not a ghost; I'm the voice of your heart!" the voice boomed so loudly in her ear. Simultaneously, Jaehyun stood up, slinging his gig bag over one shoulder, saying: "Let's go."

"Stop shouting. You're hurting my ears," Jiyeon snapped.

Jaehyun's forehead creased, and he genuinely looked confused. "Teacher Park, I didn't shout."

She rubbed her face with one hand, letting out a long sigh. "I'm sorry," Jiyeon said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn't talking to you; I was—"

"Talking to the voice?"

Jiyeon gave him a curt nod. "I'm crazy—talking to an "imaginary" voice," she said, her tone flat. She was tired of telling everyone she was sane, normal; no one seemed to believe her, even her own mother, the woman who brought her into this world, wanted her to see a psychiatrist, as if there was something wrong with her, and that she needed to be fixed. She knew hearing voices and talking to oneself had been viewed as 'abnormal' and a symptom of 'mental' illness.

When you tell people you hear voices, they will most likely assume that you are crazy, and the worst thing is some people do believe you are a danger! Why? Mainstream media and movies love portraying 'mentally' ill people as dangerous and terrible human beings. The fact is: 'mentally' ill people who committed mass murder have something in common: they were taking psychiatric drugs. So-called mental health professionals keep denying the fact that psychiatric drugs have an important role in homicide and suicide; they continue blaming people's 'broken' brains. Schizophrenia is not found at autopsy anyway; instead postmortem studies have confirmed that drugs cause brain abnormalities! 

Jaehyun moved to stand before her and looked directly into her eyes. "Teacher Park, you're not crazy; you're just human. I believe that hearing voices is a natural part of the human experience. Have you found any ways to reduce its volume, or noticed any patterns to when it starts or gets louder?" he spoke so tenderly, so caring that tears sprang to her eyes.

His heartfelt words touched her soul. Jiyeon ducked her head, blinking tears away. She really wished her mother was the one who said those words. In spite of her best efforts to stop them, hot tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. The suppressed sobs shook her shoulders and made her chest heave: she could not utter a single word.

"I'm sorry." Jaehyun wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a loose embrace. "Go ahead. Cry if you want to. It will do you good."

"My girl, don't cry in his arms! He's your student! You'd better go home now!" the voice boomed in her ear.

Instead of obeying the voice's words, Jiyeon allowed her head to rest against his shoulder, breaking into sobs. It took a while but eventually the sobbing subsided. She quickly pulled away from his embrace. Her face flushed. She used her sleeve to wipe her tears away. She felt so much better.

Jaehyun flashed her a smile. "How do you feel now?"

"Very much better," Jiyeon mouthed, then looked up into the sky and saw the evening star sparkling through the fading light of day. She smiled, admiring its beauty. She turned her gaze back to him. "Thank you, Jaehyun, your words mean a lot to me," she said in a low, hoarse voice. "Let's go. It's getting dark."

He gave her a little nod, but still didn't move. Instead, he stared deeply into her eyes. She stared back into his eyes blankly at first, then a smile crossed her lips. Jaehyun muttered, "How very beautiful."

Jiyeon wrinkled her forehead. "What are you talking about?"

"The evening star is very beautiful, isn't it?" Jaehyun pointed his index finger to the sky, his eyes still fixated on her face.

Jiyeon let out a short inaudible laugh. "Your eyes tell me you're not talking about the evening star," she said, a joking tone lacing her voice, "I know I'm beautiful, no need to stare."

"You have a very beautiful smile." Jaehyun scratched his head, looking sheepish.

She nodded her head, amused at his reaction. "Thank you for your compliment."

Taking her hand, he led her to the curb where a flashy black and blue motorcycle with a silver helmet hanging on the left handlebar was parked. He reached into the pockets of his leather jacket and pulled out a pair of black leather motorcycle gloves.

"You cannot give me a lift; you only have one helmet," Jiyeon said as she watched him put the gloves on.

"I will lend you mine," Jaehyun offered as he unhooked the helmet from the handlebar and handed it to her.

Jiyeon shook her head. "It is against the law, and you know it, right?"

"Teacher Park, I'm willing to risk the helmet law—"

"Thank you for your offer, Jaehyun. I appreciate your kindness," she cut him off firmly, making a quick decision in her head, "I'll get a cab home."

"Good, my girl," the voice rang so softly in her right ear.

Jaehyun nodded, the disappointment flitting across his face. "Okay. Let me help you hail one, at least."

Jiyeon gave him a small smile. In silence, they stood on the curb, waiting for a cab to pass.

"Here is one." Jaehyun stepped into the street and waved. The cab dashed right on by. He sighed and gave her a serious look. "Teacher Park, what do you think about s in relationships?"