CHAPTER TWELVE

The next day something strange happens: a gay-bashing incident occurs in Seoul. An older guy (whom Kyuhyun didn’t know) was leaving Bear’s Bar late at night when he was pushed down onto his face and kicked in the ribs by a gang of drunken teenagers from D-Goong, only two of whom were caught and ID’d. The attack gets some moderate media coverage, but more than that, it makes me wobble a little. Weren’t we moving forward? Why would that still be happening? And what did it mean for me?

I do everything I can to not dwell on it or obsess over it, and surprisingly I mostly succeed. That afternoon I find a free hour between classes and head to a fancy café on Starbucks for some alone time. I want to message the girl from the chat room; pick her brain and ask her about her story. So I send her a short overview, and she responds within barely five minutes.

Sure. I’d love to chat. What’s going on?

I bite my lip. Thanks! So the thing is, before I get any deeper with him, I want to…understand it, and make sure I’m doing everything right.

Okay, she says soon. I understand. One thing that killed me in the beginning was the indecision. First it would be good to think about whether you’ve perhaps always been gay, and if you were just suppressing it because of fear or self-loathing or inner homophobia.

I chew on the insides of my cheeks. Honestly, I liked girls, and that was it. I would’ve had no reason to hide it…my family is very liberal and open. I don’t think that’s it.

Hmm. Maybe you really did just suddenly change, then.

Have you heard of that? I ask.

Hello! I was a straight girl who fell for a lesbian!

Oh. Yeah. Sorry.

So where’s the hesitation then? What’s the problem?

There’s no problem. I’m just overwhelmed.

Well look at it this way. If a guy who usually liked redheads suddenly fell for a brunette, would he drive himself crazy with angst and regret over it?

No, I say.

Well, hair color is a detail about someone, just like gender. What matters is the soul inside. So if one detail doesn’t matter, why would another detail matter?

I stare at the screen, dumbfounded.

Do you love the kid? she asks before I can respond.

What?

Do you love him?

Just the question makes me smile. I don’t know, I answer. I think I might? It’s so soon.

Okay well, the reality is that it’s a big step. Your life will change in a lot of ways. I lost friends and cousins. I would make sure you have real feelings for him before you make that leap.

I do, I say without hesitation. He’s making my whole life happier.

Then get to know him, and his world. Start learning about the LGBTQ community. Show him you care about his life. Lock it down, bro!

I laugh to myself. Okay. I’ll work on it. Thanks for your input.

Good luck. I hope this story has a happy ending, she says.

Me too. You have no idea how badly, actually.

Look, she says. Things happen all the time. Cats fall in love with dogs and women fall in love with women. Only the heart knows why. So stop using your brain to try to understand mysteries that can’t be understood.

oOo

Class that day is boring and unremarkable. That night I go over to his house for the first time, since his roommate is out of town at a wedding. I can’t sleep over, since anyone might bust in, but I try to enjoy the time I do have. I don’t know what I was expecting, but in the end his apartment turns out to be old, shabby, and impeccably decorated. But his bedroom is a bit darker.

I stop at his dresser and marvel over his box of watches and trinkets, star-struck. I can’t believe these are his things…this is where he lives. This is his private world.

“What happened with your dad? - I ask as we migrate to his bed, and he holds me in the darkness - I saw that family picture. You look just like him.”

“I don’t know - he exhales - We never had a meltdown or an explosion or anything, we just never really had a relationship to begin with. He never liked me, and then he found me watching gay in high school.”

“No!”

“Yes. Most mortifying moment of my life. But we never discussed it…not even once. That was the point where we completely drifted apart.”

“I thought you’ve always been open...”

“I was, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. But after he walked in on me, he couldn’t ignore it. Recently he reached out and said he loves me as his son, and doesn’t support what I am, but wants to pursue a relationship anyway. I hung up the phone.”

“Why?”

“Because things like acceptance and love aren’t conditional. You either accept someone or you don’t. Would you be okay if your mom told you, ‘Hey Siwon, I hate everything about you, but I want to take you out to lunch?’”

“Um, no.”

“Exactly. ‘Loving the sinner and hating the sin’ is a crock of , because you can’t insult someone and then tell them you support them only partially. That’s like telling someone, ‘Hey, I notice your house is on fire, and since I’m a supportive friend, I’m going to toss one cup of water on the flames and then walk away.’ Love me or don’t love me, but don’t give me half of either. So I closed the door on my dad until he accepts me. At this point we talk probably twice a year…Christmas and my birthday.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ll learn that people with bad energy are better out of your life than in it. It’s corrosive and depressing to constantly have to think about the fact that someone only quasi-supports you. I’m so much freer without him looking over my shoulder all the time, reminding me that he doesn’t really approve of me. I had to let go of him, and of what I wanted from him, too. And now I have my new, gay, artsy family I found at school!”

I still don’t like this, though…I can’t just brush it off. There was a father out there who had disowned a kid because of something he couldn’t control or change about himself, even if he wanted to. Life was too short for that. But then again, what kind of authority was I? I’d never had a loved one tell me I wasn’t good enough to receive their love.

Eventually we start making out, and his mouth…it feels good, and y, and soon the kissing turns into more than kissing. When he’s going down on me, he asks if I’ve taken a shower.

“An hour ago. Why?”

He reaches for a container of liquid I realize is lube.

“Because you’re about to get again. But for real this time.”

I open my legs a little, sit back, and watch him. It starts the same: it burns at first, but then he does a motion like he’s calling me forward, and it sends me perilously close to . Soon it starts to stretch me and hit me in spots I didn’t even know existed. I start making those sounds again, those weird foreign moans I never even knew I could make. If this is what being with him feels like, I need it every day. Every hour.

He starts moving in and out faster and faster, and sure enough, I come in a few minutes, rocking and twitching and sighing. He is unlike anything I have ever experienced before.

“Sorry - I say, wiping my chest - That didn’t last very long. And why are you staring at me?”

“Because that was the hottest thing of my life, and you’re crazy to be sorry.”

I toss aside the towel and sit up.

“Okay, well sit back now, because it’s my turn.”

October proves warmer than usual, but one weekend another, stronger cold front blows through, jump-starting the transformation of the leaves. Within a few days every tree that can change is starting to put on a fire show, and Kyuhyun and I walk through the squares two