The lights in their house were all on, and as our family car pulled into the driveway, I could see through the window that someone was already waiting for us. We barely got out of the car before he walked over to us, exchanging polite words with my father and giving us a welcoming smile. He was an ahjusshi whom I didn’t recognize, so I merely bowed and greeted him formally. Next to me, my sister did the same.

We entered the house, and I noticed that there were several other ahjussis and ahjummas loitering around. Slightly uncomfortable with all the attention we were getting upon our arrival, I was semi-relieved when her mother suddenly pulled me in.

“Kyuhyun-gun, you’re here,” she said, in a happy voice that felt strangely tinged with something darker. Next to her, her husband echoed his welcome. Calling her name, my friend’s mother pulled my arm and started dragging me towards the bedrooms. “Look who’s here to see you! It’s Kyuhyunnie-sshi!”

I glanced back at Ara-noona to make sure she was still following me.

“She’ll be really happy to see you,” her mother whispered to me at the top of the steps. “You, too, Ara-yang. She’s still in the bedroom.” We bowed our thanks and entered the open doors.

My first impression of the room was—it was very bright. They had changed the curtains since last time I came to visit; it was now a cheerful yellow with flower patterns.  The bare white walls somehow also added to the sparkle effect, and taking up a good part of the room stood the large queen-sized bed, in which sat my friend. She was propped up, leaning against the wall, and her feet were covered by a large blanket. She appeared to have been reading a book, though she put it down when we entered the room.

“Hey,” we greeted her, sitting on the couch that faced her bed.

She looked up at us, and the first thing I noticed was that she had gained a lot of weight. Inwardly, I guiltily squirmed at the realization; being an idol, I had to be careful not to eat too much for fear of ruining my public image, but the girl who sat in front of me was at least ten kilograms heavier than the friend I once knew.

I felt bad for noticing, for not being able to look at her in the eyes and tell her “You look well.”

“How have you been?” I ventured instead.

She was playing with her lip. Eyes now averted from us, she kept rubbing it, whether conscious or unconsciously, it was hard to tell.

“Have you been well?” my sister tried again.

She gave absolutely no response that she heard the question. I turned to my sister with a worried look, and her eyes met mine with both confusion and apprehension.

It was then I realized that though I had been warned by my father, no one had told Ara-noona what to expect.

“What college do you go to now?” she asked, trying to be friendly, and my eyebrows shot up in alarm.

She hadn’t realized the sensitive truth. I wanted to nudge her foot with mine, to tell her that this topic shouldn’t be discussed, but there was no way let her know without my friend noticing.

“Um… I’ve been well,” she finally murmured, and my sister and I glanced at each other in mutual relief. She had responded.

“That’s great,” I said encouragingly. There was another pause while I tried to ignore the heavy silence and come up with something to say—come on, I wasn’t an MC for nothing, I berated myself—but I really didn’t know how to react to this kind of suffocating atmosphere.

“Um, what book is that?” I asked, pointing to the discarded book that lay at her side. I squinted; it was in English. “You’re reading an American novel?”

She said nothing, still touching with her lip. I saw her eyes glance over to the book, but other than that, she gave no indication she heard my question.

“What are your hobbies?” Ara-noona asked shyly. “What do you like to do nowadays?”

The girl merely shifted her weight and said nothing, her hand still playing with her lower lip and chin.

I cast my eyes around the room for inspiration; aside from the random cosmetics that were haphazardly thrown about on her dresser, there was nothing of interest except for the piles of books that lay all over her table and floor.

“You—you still like to read?”

She opens , and rocks forth slightly. “Music,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“P-pardon?”

She was rocking back and forth a bit harder now.

“You like to listen to music?” I was getting slightly scared.

She nodded. At least, I thought she did.

I smiled encouragingly, and leaned forward a bit. But she still didn’t look up. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

Her answer was inaudible.

Slightly frustrated at the way the conversation was going, I turned again to Ara-noona, who gave me a small reassuring smile. But the look in her eyes was just as lost as mine.

“So—how’s vacation going for you?” I tried again. And then I mentally kicked myself—idiot, she wasn’t in school, how can she be on vacation—

She pulled the covers up to her chest, so only her head and shoulders were visible, and continued rocking back and forth.

I glanced around room wildly again, trying to find some way to keep the conversation alive. Because the only alternative was the oppressive silence that emanated from her bloated frame, and I wasn’t sure I could take much more.

Someone passed by the entrance of the room—one of the ahjummas. I’m sure relief must had  shown itself on my face, so happy was I to see someone else—please, someone, take us out of this awkward situation, I silently begged. I didn’t know what to do, I was so confused—

“Ah, little Kyuhyunnie has come to visit you,” she smiled at the girl. “Have fun talking to him, won’t you? And my, Ara-yang, you’ve grown to be so beautiful.”

Beside me, my sister flushed uncomfortably and mumbled her thanks.

“W-wait,” I whispered, but it was too late. The ahjumma had already left the room and walked away.

The three of us were left alone again.

“Read me a story,” my friend suddenly mumbled, and both of us leaned even closer.

“Sorry?”

She jerked her head slightly in the general direction of the pile of books that lay near my side. “Read me a story…”

“F-from here?” I pulled out a novel. Dickens’ Great Expectations. Another, I decided, and came up with a thicker book without a cover. I browsed through it—it was a collection of fairy tales of some sort, as well as a few great classics simplified into more contemporary language.

Too long, I thought dismally, as I experimentally flipped through one or two of the stories. Any one of these tales would take hours to finish reading out loud. “She doesn’t really expect me to do this, does she?” I whispered anxiously to Ara-noona.

“I—I’m not sure,” she replied in a hushed voice. “I—I don’t think so…”

With a silent mutual agreement, we both turned back towards the girl on the bed, who hadn’t lifted her head since we had first come in. Hand still on her face, she merely rocked back and forth—and were her shoulders trembling?—I thought with alarm.

“U-um, so, do you like to go outside?” I blurted out.

She finally raised her head to stare at my eyes.

As her dark, expressionless pupils pierced mine, I couldn’t bring myself to look away. It took all my effort to rearrange my features into another encouraging smile.

“Today’s weather was nice,” I said, gesturing uselessly at the window. It was long after dinnertime; there was nothing to look at outside.

She abruptly dropped her gaze.

“You have a pond in your backyard,” I pressed, as she started her comforter. “Have you visited it recently?” Suddenly, I was reminded of a summer long past—her family had held a barbeque party in the middle of July, and they had gathered a large group of people to eat and socialize. It was before I had debuted; back then, all of us younger kids had played sports together in her spacious backyard, or had pretended to catch the fish that swam in her pond. She had been a really good tennis player, while my own skills weren’t quite so spectacular.

And then we all had returned to the house for ice-cream; afterwards, when the others came out for more rounds of tennis, I had sat at the piano, singing and playing.

Even before high school, I had dreamed of being a singer someday. From that young age, I had hopes, sure plans for my future…

“No,” she whispered.

And then she fell silent once more.