Amber (Part 2): Roommates
Paris: The City of My Heart
2J’ai mangé: I have eaten.
4 T’es charmantée!: You’re charming (literally); Miss Charming / Lady (colloquially).
5 Ça te dirais une bonne baise?: Do you wanna go for a quick ?
6 Le Rêve: the dream.
“What?” I looked at him as if he was crazy. “You’re joking right? We don’t even know each other.”
“Well," he said, "We could get to know each other as I live here being your flatmate.”
This is insane, I thought.
“Why?” I stayed as calm as I possibly could in the situation since I have always believed that being hot headed would not solve any situation.
“Because now that my dad found out where I’ve been staying, I need to find a new place and I can’t do that so soon, so I need a temporary place to stay,” he explained casually, as if it was something I should know by then.
“There’s only one bed in here.”
He shrugged. “I can sleep on the couch. Unless you want me to sleep with you.” He grinned mischievously.
I ignored his second comment and rolled my eyes at him. “You’re crazy,” I decided, giving him a pointed look.
“I’ll share the rent fee with you!” he offered. “I’ll pay you in addition to the rent fee we’re sharing!”
I pondered around that offer. On one side, I needed to earn money as I lived in Paris, but I knew it was difficult for international students to find a part-time job because the French prioritise their people in this area. On the other side, I didn’t want to take advantage of him, a stranger.
“Are you a rich boy on an escape?!" I narrowed my eyes at him as I asked.
He laughed at my hypothesis and crossed his arms in front of his chest, a sign I interpreted as that he didn’t want to answer that question straight away.
I sighed and planted my hand on my hip, giving him a look. “I don’t know you. How would I know you’re not a smuggler, criminal, gangster, mafia, thief, or even ?! Moreover, you don’t know if I’m any of them either.”
“From my observation, you’re an exchange student at Université Paris Descartes and have only arrived a few days ago.” My eyes widened at his statement. His French accent was perfect, but his accurate guess startled me. “Your luggage is next to your bed on the carpet floor, there is a French dictionary and a Université Paris Descartes magazine on your desk,” he explained before I accused him of being a stalker. I looked around at the places he spoke of and turned back to him. He hadn’t finished. He raised his palm up as if taking an oath in front of God. “I swear I won’t lay a hand on you, otherwise you can kick me out and leave me to die on the street.”
Don’t say it like that!
“Unless you want me to,” he added with a impish smile.
Okay, forget my pity for him.
“How much would you pay me?" I queried, not taking my eyes off him.
He stated an amount that was even bigger than the rent fee itself. He must be a spoiled rich boy! It was tempting to accept him, but I felt conceited if I did. He stared at me with pleading eyes and I looked away sighing as I massaged my forehead, something I usually do when thinking hard.
He was still waiting for my answer. Finally, I looked up and gave it to him. “No,” I said firmly and his face felt into utter disappointment. My heart softened at the sight, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know him. “I’m sorry.”
He then left without a word. As soon as I closed my door, guilt overtook me. I felt really bad now that he had to wander around the street looking for a place to sleep. What's so bad about giving a beggar a temporary place to stay as long as we stay out of each other's way?
You are such a , Amber!
Suddenly, the sound of thunder roared outside the window and rain started to pour heavily. I stood there looking out my window in a daze, then without another thought, I grabbed my umbrella and keys and ran out. I found him standing by the entrance door looking up at the pouring rain. He looked dejected as he sighed heavily. He was about to step onto the pavement when I pulled him back in. His eyes widened when he saw me.
“Come upstairs,” I said nonchalantly, as if the earlier incident was nothing. Afraid he might refuse out of pride, I grabbed his arm and pulled him in.
“I can walk, you know,” he told me, triumph colouring his voice. I let go of him as we ascended the stairs in silence.
~*~*~
That night, I dug through my luggage for an old oversized T-shirt Jjong passed down to me for the guy to borrow and my grey tracksuit pants, which I knew was going to be short for him. But it was better than nothing right?
I turned my laptop on as he took a shower in the bathroom. Skype automatically logged in as soon as my homepage loaded. A picture of me and Jjong was there as my background photo. We looked like twins, as people usually said, with the five years gap. As soon as Skype was signed in, an incoming call demanded to be answered. I smiled knowing it was him.
“Hello, Dear Sister,” his voice came from my speaker as the video slowly loaded to reveal him in his red hooded-jumper, a pair of Micky Mouse ears on the top of the hood.
“Hi, Dino,” I teased, couldn’t hide the grin as I saw his funny attire.
“How's second night in Paris?”
I thought over it and decided with, “Fine.”
“I watched Midnight in Paris today with Serena.”
“Oh yup, I read about it on Wiki.”
“You cheater!” he rebuked and I chuckled. “I hope you don’t go on train carriages and visiting the past.”
I scoffed at his remarks, “You’re such a movie-victim. Wait! Who’s Serena?” I stared wide-eyed at him as he laughed at my slow reaction.
“Geez, you’re so slow, sis.” It was then that my new flatmate came out from his shower towel drying his hair. The smell of my shampoo filled the air. “Serena’s my girlfriend.”
I let out a groan, folding my legs on the chair. “Remind me, what number is she again?”
Jjong feigned a thinking expression and replied, “Three hundred—“
“Shut up!” I yelled at him. “You never had that much.”
Jjong laughed out loud. “At least I’m not forever-single like you.”
“I’m fine the way I am,” I retorted. “I don’t need any man around.” I felt my new flatmate's curious look on me. My eyes caught him briefly before going back to my laptop screen.
“Are you a lesbian?”
“I’m not a lesbian!” I snapped at Jjong. “Just because I never had a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian!”
Jjong laughed again. “Just chill, sis! I’m just saying if you keep being so standoffish, you’ll end up a forty-year-old !”
I cussed at Jjong for saying that at this point of time. My new flatmate obviously heard that as I saw him stifling his laughter from the corner of my eyes. I shot him a look and he looked away innocently to his iPhone.
“Oi! Where are you looking at?” Jjong called me back.
An idea came to me and I smiled devilishly. “Actually, bro, there’s something I should tell you.”
“What? You met a hot Parisian and now you’re living with him?” he guessed randomly, with a tone full of sarcasm.
My new flatmate situated his eyes on me as I gave him a mischievous smile. He raised an eyebrow with what-the-hell-have-you-got-under-your-sleeve look. I turned my laptop to face him in the living room area.
“See that, bro? That’s my roommate! So,” I added slowly to increase the tension, “I gotta go off now coz we have some business to do.”
“What the , Amber?! You took a Parisian in to live with you?! Are you out of your mind?!”
“Bye,” I sang after I rotated the laptop back to me to wave my hand at him.
“No! Amber! Don’t hang up! I’ll tell Mum and Dad!!!” he threatened in panic.
I smirked smugly. “I’d like to see if they’d believe you.” Jjong was always the troublemaker, while I was the sensible one. Our parents had put a lot of trust in me and I was sure Jjong could not win that over.
“Amber! No! Don’t—”
Before he could finish, the line was cut off.
“What was that?” the guy sitting on my couch queried.
I turned to face him and replied calmly, “Well, since you’re living at my place, I just used you for a bit there to get back at my brother.”
He chortled at my explanation. When he stopped, he asked, “So, your name’s Amber?”
I groaned mentally and cursed at Jjong for calling out my name, but sooner or later this bloke was going to find out anyway considering we would be flatmates for a period of time.
Instead of justifying his question with an answer, I asked, “Are you going to tell me your name?”
He feigned a thinking expression and hummed teasingly. “Should I? Or should we go on a we-don’t-tell-names approach?”
I shot him a look of disbelief. “You know my name already.”
He stared into my eyes and I felt the atmosphere suddenly became serious. I waited patiently for him to answer and a while later, I was granted with, “Myung Soo.”
~*~*~
Fate probably existed.
After leaving Myung Soo with a note regarding breakfast of cereal and milk, I made my way to Université Paris Descartes. I saw him in my Pharmacology class, sitting at the back, waving his hands at me excitedly when he noticed my arrival. I stared at him in horror. The other students probably thought I was crazy. Embarrassed, I collected myself and made my way to the seat next to him.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered the question, confused and curious.
He replied me with his typical boyish smile. I should dislike it, but I found myself liking it. It was his signature. “I’m a student too.”
Mrs Dupont, our lecturer, walked in and called out a name I didn't hear. Myung Soo stood up to approach her and I saw her giving him a piece of paper before they had a brief conversation. It was all that had to happen to make me believe that he was not stalking me, but was indeed my classmate in this particular subject.
“So, you’re going to be a pharmacist?” I assumed when we rested on the grass lawn during the break.
“I study Medicinal Chemistry,” he replied and my lips formed an ‘o’. “What about you?”
“Medicine.”
“Whoa… nerd!”
I shot him a look. He grinned innocently in response, aware that I didn’t want to joke around.
“So, when are you going to look for a place?” I asked.
“You want me to leave that bad huh,” he stated with his grin still intact. “Don’t you want the money? You need money right.”
“Yea I do, but I’m not going to bribe you,” I retorted.
“Well, first, I’m going back to my place today without getting caught, then move as much as I could to your place before I embark on my journey to find a new sanctuary.”
“How are you going to do that?" I wondered, though I should have known better that it was none of my business. "I assume those guys will be loitering around your place like flies.”
He turned to give me an eye-smile. “You really do catch on things really quickly aye!" he made a remark, imitating the Australian accent. "Don’t you worry, I can look after myself.”
I shrugged in response, not that it was any of my business. I just didn't want those guys to come to my place, thinking I was hiding the one they were after. Myung Soo then stood up and brushed the grass off his because it was time for me to go back to class. He had nothing, so I assumed he was going to undertake his to-do list for the day.
~*~*~
Je suis or j'ai?
I rested my chin on my palm as I looked at the question again. Unlike my classmates, listening comprehension had always been my forté, but forming my own French sentences, especially in the in the past tense, was my weakness. How ironic, considering I was in Extension 1 French1. It was the auxiliary verb, either 'être' or 'avoir', before the past participle of the main verb. Voir, to see, would have avoir to become "J'ai vu" – this is easy because "je suis vu" just doesn’t sound right. Naître, to be born, would have être to become “Je suis née” – I heard this a lot from movies and readings, so this is easy too. Trouver, to find, would have av- wait... Je suis trouvée or j'ai trouvé?
Je suis mangée or J'ai mangé? J'ai mangé2!
Je suis arrivée? J'ai arrivé? I had been saying them in my head for the past five minutes, but I still couldn't decide. I thought je suis arrivée sounds better because two vowels don’t come after each other. But with the verb aimer, to love, it’s "j'ai aimé". We learned a mneumonic device for those verbs using the être verb; it’s called DR & MRS VANDERTRAMP3, but it involves derivatives, meaning if you forget the verb, you'd have trouble working out which verb is supposed to be on the list.
My flatmate walked out from the kitchen with a small Pharmacology book in one hand and a hot chocolate mug in the other. He had been drinking that almost every day. I wondered whether he drank it for the weather or simply loving the drink since he consumed it a few times a day. In the past few days, he hadn’t disturbed me in any way. In fact, he was quite respectful and considerate. We stayed out of each other’s way and actually behaved like friends.
I parted my lips to ask a question, but the words died before I could even form them. What was I going to ask him? Would he laugh if I ask about these French conjugations?
I shifted my eyes back to the worksheet before me. I took a glance at him again, who was already sitting on the couch and serenely reading. I shook the idea off my head and decided to consult the examples for help. I didn't want to check earlier because that would be cheating, but I was stuck.
Right, it was j'ai trouvé and je suis arrivée...
I'll remember that, I thought, for the n millionth time.
~*~*~
It was almost six o’clock when I reached the apartment building. A drunken French man outside kept eyeing me as I walked closer. I avoided any eye contact and strode past him.
“Hey, Mademoiselle... T'es charmantée!4 Ça te dirais une bonne baise?5” he slurred and laughed like a maniac.
I ignored him without giving him a second look. He yanked my jacket roughly and turned me to face him. He yelled at me for being rude to him. I exhaled a sigh. He was drunk, so I understood he didn’t know what he was doing. I asked him politely to let go, but he wouldn’t. Without warning, not that he deserved it, I grabbed his hand with one hand and used my thumb from the other hand to twist his wrist downwards. In an instant, he knelt on the ground groaning in pain. I rolled my eyes, let him go, and left him there. But before I could, he seized my wrist with his other hand and slammed me onto the wall. I glared at him and was about to tell him to back off when a hand pulled him away from me and punched him on the face.
It was Myung Soo. He told the man to... basically get the f off in a slightly polite way and threatened to call the police. With that, he took me in with him into the building and asked whether I was alright. I nodded and thanked him for coming at the right time.
“That was a nice move by the way,” he made a remark as we ascended the stairs.
“What?”
“That wristlock.” He grinned at the idea.
I smiled. “It has always been my favourite move.”
He chuckled. “That man's wife left him this morning,” he said all of a sudden.
“That long-haired woman with the luggage this morning?” I saw her when I left for my jog.
Myung Soo nodded. “They had been fighting every night because he keeps drinking and not trying to find a job. She had had enough and said she is leaving him and she did.”
“Really? I didn’t hear anything at all,” I replied as I took out my key and slid it into the keyhole.
He scoffed, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” I chortled at his remark. I agree I could be out of it sometimes. “What would you do if there’s a burglar?”
I opened the door for the two of us and retorted niftily, “You’ll be around. You can be sacrificed.”
“So, not only am I your roommate, I’m also your personal security guard now?” he inquired wryly, giving me a playful look in the process. I simpered without justifying the rhetorical question with a verbal answer. The way he said ‘roommate’ wasn’t in a meaningless manner, but he was referring to that phone call I had with Jjong, where I was trying to make Jjong think he was more than a simple roommate. He caught me and continued, “Does your brother know I’m living with you?”
“Nope,” I simply replied. “If he does, he would drop everything and step on the plane as soon as he can and take me back home.”
~*~*~
“Myung Soo...”
I decided to swallow my pride and ask. I had checked the dictionary, but this Microbiology textbook had a sentence that didn't make sense to me and I needed it to answer the question in the workbook. Myung Soo hummed in response and looked up from his own work. Sheepishly, I shifted on my seat to face him.
“Can I ask you a question? The textbook isn't making sense, you see. I've checked the dictionary, but I still don't get it.”
“Show me,” he beckoned.
I grabbed the book and sauntered over to the living room to sit down next to him on the carpet floor. He had been doing his work on the coffee table. I pointed to the sentence so he could read it and a few seconds later, he looked up, “Have you learned Microbiology in Sydney?” I nodded. “What have you done?”
“The basics with pharmacokinetics, therapeutic window, microorganisms and cell structure, bacterial and fungal infections... basically everything,” I supposed.
“Good,” he nodded and scrutinised his eyes in the process of asking, “Do you know about drug bioavailability?” I nodded. “Tell me what it is.”
“It’s the fraction of administered drug that is completely absorbed by the body.”
He nodded. “That’s it.”
“Then how do I answer the question in the booklet in French?” I chewed my bottom lip as I looked at him worriedly. I quickly added, “I’m not asking for the answer, I just mean I couldn’t form the sentence academically in French.”
He chuckled at my awkwardness. “It’s fine.” He proceeded to tell me word-by-word the French translation of the main words required. I listened attentively and jotted everything down. After I thanked him, I returned to my seat and thought, Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it, Amber?
~*~*~
I got off my bed keeping one of my eyes closed and made my way to the bathroom. I hate nature call when I’m in deep sleep. I stepped onto the blue tiled floor and my heart almost jumped out of my chest when my feet slipped instantly.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, falling on my .
“Oh my God, Amber!” Myung Soo, who was in the shower cubicle rinsing the floor, slid the door open and squatted down to my level. I looked up to find him in his white V-neck shirt and grey tracksuit, holding the shower rail. He looked worried and guilt-stricken. “Are you alright?”
I clenched my fist and snarled at him, “Myung Soo, I'm going to kill you!”
His breath hitched and he pursed his lips apologetically. “I'm sorry...”
“I always get an accident when you're around!” I snapped. After groaning at the pain on my , I shot him the question, “What the hell are you doing in the bathroom?” I looked on the soapy floor and realised that he had been scrubbing.
“Um... I'm cleaning.” He looked down on the floor like a child being caught red-handed for stealing his friend's candy.
“You're cleaning?” I blinked a few times before giving him a look of bewilderment.
“Well, we decided to share the chores right?” he reasoned. “And I assumed the bathroom hasn't been cleaned this week.”
Isn't he a spoiled rich boy?
“You know how to clean the bathroom?” I gave him a sceptical look. He raised an eyebrow as if saying, “Why not?”. I suddenly felt self-conscious considering I always hate cleaning the bathroom. Mum used to force me, but since Jjong became a lawyer and earned money on his own, he began to call people in to clean our units for us. “Don't you have maids to do this for you?”
He shook his head with an amused smile. “I’ve been living on my own ever since high school became a history, woman.”
Fair enough.
I rolled to my side and tried to get up with his help. My hurt. I rubbed them to ease the pain and I noticed him stifling a laugh. I glared at him and he avoided my gaze immediately. I grumbled, “It really is not funny! It hurts!”
He rubbed the back of his neck in unease. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you were going to come in.”
I saw the remorse in his eyes and decided to just let it go. “Are you done? I need to do number one.”
“Oh right, I’ll just rinse it.”
I stepped out of the bathroom as he did whatever he needed to do. After he was done, I held on to the railings and whatever was on the wall to make my way in after closing the door.
“Be careful,” he said.
I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to have breakfast. As he made the bathroom spotless, I sent a random message on Blackberry Messenger to Tori saying, “Does Khun clean the bathroom?”
Nichkhun Horvejkul. A Financial Advisor and the man Tori had recently developed a relationship with. To be honest, I was worried about their relationship. If I had ever met anyone who was broken from previous relationships, it would be Victoria Song. They just weren’t very pretty. Her first boyfriend, Zhou Mi, cheated on her; he had a one night stand with a guest who stayed at his family hotel in Orange. Her second boyfriend, Han Geng, who her family, his family, and I had been convinced would be the one she was going to marry, drifted away from her before they knew it. They had a relationship for almost three years, but when she noticed his diminishing feeling for her, she decided to put an end to it. It was a very heartbreaking separation. She drowned herself in alcohol and my heart ached seeing her broken. I kept hoping it would work with Khun; she had had enough heartbreak to go on. However, the problem this time lied in Tori, who was attending Australian Defense Force Academy. This mean she would be away most of the times, while Khun would be the one staying around. But all we could do was to wait and see.
I waited for her reply as I had my bowl of cereal. Myung Soo came around and took out a can of hot chocolate, which he had bought himself, from the kitchen cupboard to make himself a cup.
“What are you doing today?“ he asked.
“Homework, then I might walk around Paris for a bit and try to find a part-time job.“
He seated himself in front of me with a crease on his brow. “But you're a foreigner, isn’t it hard to find a part-time job?“
I suddenly felt stupid for sharing it with him. It was obvious and yet I still wanted to try. “Yea, but I need money. I'm just afraid my saving isn’t enough.” Which wasn't completely true. I did have money saved from my part-time job back in Sydney, but I wanted to make sure if I spent some, I'd be able to earn it back. I could ask Dad, I supposed, but my pride won’t let me.
Myung Soo nodded in understanding and took a sip from his mug. “Well, good luck.”
“How about you? What are you doing today?”
“Working at the pharmacy,” he told me, looking up at the clock on the wall, “starting at ten.” I turned to look at the time to discover 08:50. “I finish at five, but I'll be back by around six because I asked my friend to help me find a place, so I'm going to see him and see what he found."
I nodded in response. “Well, good luck.”
Good. I want him out asap.
As soon as the thought surfaced, guilty conscience followed.
God, I sound like a lately.
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” His question took me out of my reverie.
I raised an eyebrow and gave him what-the-hell-have-you-got-under-your-sleeves look. It was Saturday and his inquiry raised my guard. “You're not asking me on a date, are you?" I demanded shortly. When I realised my tone sounded nasty, I let out a playful smile to ease the situation.
He gave a short laugh. “Conceited much?”
I shrugged, keeping the smile intact. “Just making sure.”
“I meant rent a movie and watch together,” he explained.
I chuckled. “Sounds good. What do you want to watch?”
He shrugged. “What do you want to watch?”
“I watch any type of movies.”
“Get whatever you want as long as it's not a ridiculous comedy or full-on romance.”
I nodded as a ping sound came from my phone. I unlocked it to read Tori’s reply. Myung Soo stared at me as I was crazy when I laughed my head off.
Tori said, “Every decent man on earth should be able to.”
~*~*~
“So, is it only you and your brother in the family?” he asked, just as I turned my laptop on to watch the DVD. I had decided to get The Darkest Hour; an action, horror, and sci-fi movie.
“No. There’s Mum and there’s Dad. How about you?”
“I’m an only child.”
“I see.”
“What do your parents do?” he inquired immediately, seeing I wasn’t going to say anything else.
“My mum’s a lawyer and my dad’s a surgeon,” I told him, inserting the DVD into my laptop and waited for it to load.
“Oh wow. So you’re like your dad, I’m guessing?”
I smiled and nodded. “My brother’s more like my mum. He’s a lawyer, a successful one too.”
“That’s nice,” he said, his tone turning slightly melancholic. “You have a very nice family there.”
“Why do you think so?” I wondered curiously. From my perspective, my family is far from nice, like any other broken ones.
“Well, your parents have a son and a daughter who complement them perfectly. It’s a nice little family too, just the four of you.”
“My parents were divorced since I was seven,” I told him with indifference, turning my attention to my laptop as the DVD already loaded up and the box asked whether I wanted to play them on the Corel WinDVD program software. I expected him to dismiss the subject and move on; it wasn’t like anyone would be interested with my life. “My parents don’t really talk to each other, except about us.”
He went quiet for a moment.
“I’m sorry.”
I turned to see a warm stillness in his eyes. I shook my head and chuckled. “Don’t apologise, it’s not something for you to be sorry for.” I clicked on the instructions as I carried on, “Anyway, what about your parents?”
“My mum passed away when I was in junior high school,” he said, just as I made myself comfortable under the blanket we were sharing. It was getting colder at night and my blanket was warmer, so I decided to share; the good human being that I am.
He wasn’t my first friend who had lost a mother or father, but there wasn’t anything I could do other than expressing my genuine condolences.
And yes, he had become a friend, an acquaintance to be precise.
When I thought it would get awkward, he moved on. “So, after your parents’ divorce, did you go with your mum or your dad?”
I was fine with the fact that he didn’t want to talk about his mother’s demise; I could understand. But his question struck me. People I had spoken to about the divorce usually change the topic to make it less awkward, even those I had known for years, because they thought it was something taboo to talk about around me. Tori was the first to show any interest in my family life.
Naturally, I thought he was probing around my privacy by asking without even actually caring, but when I saw the earnest look in his eyes, it wasn’t that manner of intrusion or simply asking the question. It reminded me of Tori. I felt like he wanted to get to know me as a friend.
I hummed softly and replied, ”Mum. I was the youngest. And Dad took Jjong, my brother.”
“How much older is he?”
“Five years older.” He nodded contemplatively. The movie menu came up and I announced, “Movie starting.”
That was the end of our conversation. I sneaked a glance at him. Although his eyes were on the movie, the pensive look was still there. Although it had not been a week yet, I felt that he was a person with decent character. He didn’t seem to have any other motive than living here temporarily and he was always cooperative. Moreover, he told me that he had asked his friend’s help to find a place and earlier, he informed me that his friend had not found any suitable ones, price-wise, and he would have to stay for a few more days. I didn’t mind, as long as we stay out of each other’s way.
But the more I got to know him, my conscience kept telling me maybe I should give him a chance. I sighed.
He could be a friend, I decided.
~*~*~
Days turned to weeks, weeks soon became a month.
Winter came. Paris was really cold, colder than Sydney, so I resorted to stay inside the warmth of my apartment most of the time. I wanted to go out and see more of Paris, but I couldn't be bothered because I had to have at least five layers on if I did. And my washing was piling up and begging to be attended to.
Myung Soo was still living at mine. I ended up sharing the rent fee with him instead of getting him to pay me an addition. We spent twenty-four hours of the day and seven days of the week together. We spent the weekends watching movies, walking around the park, and talking. We learned more about each other, including the fact that his mum passed away when he was thirteen and he had been living with his dad until he left home after high school, he had this amusing addiction with hot chocolate that he had to visit every café to try the ones they made, and that he hated spicy food. He learned about my parents’ separation, my playboy brother Jjong, my best friend Tori, as well as the fact that I love ice cream. We also learned about each other’s habits, ones that we were aware and unaware of. He even got me a part-time job at his friend’s café called Le Rêve6, near Université Paris Descartes. I worked there three days a week in the evening. It was always busy and although the boss, Woo Hyun, was really nice, he could get really stress out when the café was full and people were waiting at the waiting area near the door.
To my surprise, I actually enjoyed Myung Soo's company and didn’t consider kicking him out. In fact, I had this tiny feeling that wanted him to stay. I indisputably felt his absence whenever I was home alone. Not that I became dependent on him, I was becoming attached to him in a way that I could not explain.
I had to admit there was something about Myung Soo that I couldn’t quite describe. Something that made my heart race, something that made me anticipate my days with him, and something that made me care more about him. I’d want to know how he spent his days when we weren’t together and I began to observe him, not in a stalking way but in the way I wanted to know more about him. There was just this force that drew me to him. I’d feel somewhat uncomfortable, but the odd thing was I kind of liked how he affected me.
Was it because I had been living with him? I had never been that close to any male other than my brother. In psychology, there are four main reasons of attraction between two people: physical attractiveness, proximity, familiarity, and similarity. I’d leave the first and fourth aside because if I was attracted to him physically, I would have changed since the first day; on the other hand, I didn’t really find much similarity between the two of us. The second one, proximity, refers to the living distance between two people and the closer it is, the more likely for them to develop feelings for each other; and the third reason, familiarity, suggests that the more two persons interact, the more the attraction builds.
These could be the reason why. But does it matter?
Whatever it was, I understood it wasn’t a mere friendly type of feeling, yet I kept denying it. Because it was something I had avoided all my life. Moreover, I was fully aware we were impossible because we lived in two different worlds, literally. Sooner or later, I would have to return to Australia and Myung Soo, who was born and grew up in Paris, would never want to leave the city. I knew that he loves Paris.
There was no way he would consider being with a foreigner, nor would I even attempt that kind of relationship with one.
~*~*~
1 In Australia, subjects such as Mathematics and languages have four levels (from lowest to highest): Standard/General, Advanced, Extension 1, and Extension 2. In regards to languages other than English, the levels are classified into Beginners, Continuers, Extension 1, and Extension 2 (background speakers).
3 Devenir, Revenir & Monter, Rester, Sortir Venir, Aller, Naitre, Descendre, Entrer, Rentrer, Tomber, Retourner, Arriver, Mourir, Partir.
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