Jeongsun

Jeongsun woke up to another morning of haphazard beats playing into her sore ears. The warm morning sunlight of dawn that washed her room seemed almost surreal and too irritable at the moment, so she ripped off her earphones roughly without opening her eyes. It wasn't until the uncomfortable sensation of turning in her sleep hit her body that she reluctantly took a peep at her surroundings. 

The realisation that the floorboard was too near dawned on her a moment later, as she became cognisant of the fact that she had slept on the floor with her pile of laundry as pillow again. Her eyes darted around the bedroom - everyone had left, and the aftermath of the party from last night was obvious. She recognised Soyou's leather jacket that was currently strewn on her the headboard of her bed; Bora's nail polish lay remained uncapped on her working desk; the unfamiliar make up pouch next to it was surely Hyolyn's; and she was sure it was Da-som's stash of liquor that was currently stinking her room. 

It was going to be another day of cleaning after a party at her house. A party that she did not initiate. The sense of dread in doing morning chores added to her inertia of waking up. She was not ready to start off her Saturday morning cleaning up after the queens who invaded her space. 

She wished she could protest their actions. 

Despite having pulled off her earpieces, her music continued to blare clearly through her headphones against the restored morning calm after the party the previous night. Jeongsun vaguely recalled how loud her four schoolmates were, such that she had to turn up the volume of her music before she could get any sort of decent rest in her own room. She had finally gotten herself off the floor, and while standing at full height, she could still hear the drum beats and high hat playing from her earpieces lying limply on the floor. Somehow, dealing with the four of them often required drastic measures as such. 

Jeongsun went about setting her room straight again. Piling all the girls' belongings into a box (named: Lost and Found), the next thing she did was to tie up the garbage bag so as to contain the smell of the alcohol. Why the girls preferred to drink in her room was a complete mystery to her, but she was determined to not let it stink up her room. She made a mental note to change the sheets, recalling the image of Soyou and Hyolyn rolling in it with bottles in their hands. Then there were the crumbs on the floor from pizza last night. It was vegetarian, and she absolutely hated it. Bora's rationale had been that since pizza was unhealthy, the vegetable might balance it out. 

It her own words, "Oh my gosh, I wouldn't want to get fat. The annual school dance is just around the corner." 

While she was drinking alcohol and pizza in Jeongsun's room at midnight, with absolutely no care for the host's preferences in food. 

Jeongsun had wanted to jajjangmyeon, but again, she could only wished that she protested against their choice. 

Picking up the pile of laundry that was her makeshift pillow the night before, Jeongsun made her way down the stairs to enter the kitchen where the washing machine was. 

It wasn't surprising to find that she had narrowly missed her mother again. Inspecting the bowl that was drying on the kitchen rack currently, she realised that her mother must have just returned from her overnight shift at the convenience store. The bowl was still wet. Jeongsun supposed her mother had just finished breakfast and had gone for her next part-time job. As she dumped the laundry into the machine, she couldn't help but note that this was her third day in a row to not see her mother, despite living in the same house. She could almost feel an acute sense of disappointment in herself for not having woken early enough to catch her mother. Or maybe she would feel better blaming the four girls for exhausted every fibre of her being the night before with their craziness. 

She walked over to the fridge and checked for the notes on the door. 

Her mum had missed her note about soup in the fridge again. So much for cooking her favourite stew. 

Maybe it was terrible routine of having to wake up to clean up after a bunch of people, or maybe it was the deafening silence of the house that created this sudden tension within her, but Jeongsun felt like she needed a breath of fresh air. Washing up hastily, she left the washing machine to spin on its own on a forty-five-minute cycle and headed out for a short morning work, clad in simple jeans, a Coldplay t-shirt and hoodie jacket. She put her earpieces into her ears again, and with Melomance's Gift playing softly, she trudged down the streets. 

Of course, her notebook and pen was safely tugged away in the pocket of her jacket, although she hardly imagined she would need to use it in the early mornings of this particular neighbourhood. 

The Saturday morning streets of her neighbourhood were, as usual, free of anyone. The chilly morning air of brushed lightly against her cheeks as she strayed further away from her home, towards the path that she used to take on her weekend post-dinner strolls. 

Correction: weekend post-dinner strolls with her mother. 

The thought of her mother not having been able to talk to her brought a slight pang of guilt to her heart again, and the fist-size muscle on the left of her chest started pounding a bit harder again with a familiar turn on the corner of the street. She missed taking those silent walks with her mother. Even though she might have to reply with her notebook at times, at least her mother would initiate some conversation. 

Now that she thought about it, what she missed was communication. 

Which was ironic, because she just had a "party" with the four most popular girls in school the night before, something that would probably invite envy from the rest of her classmates. Surely she would sound like an ungrateful brat if she said what she missed, sorely, was communication. 

A genuine one, with no eyebrows raised and second-guessing what she meant. 

It was in the midst of falling into that distant dream of holding a heartfelt conversation with someone, that Jeongsun stumbled upon a sign on the wall that she had never seen before on that street. Granted, the last she passed by this part of the neighbourhood was a few months ago when her mother had yet to start on her third part-time, but the sign did look relatively new. 

It was a simple poster, something that looked more like a meme. There were two hands on the poster, with a few lines of captions that read

Place your left hand here (Person 1) 

Place your right hand here (Person 2) 

Now start talking. 

In the corner of the poster was a fineprint that was the logo of some form of social movement group, and immediately Jeongsun figured that this poster was meant to be some form of satire or at least effort to get people to slow down to talk. If only her mother had the luxury of time, she would drag her here and place her hand right there. Maybe then they could restart conversations in the household, and Jeongsun wouldn't have to wake up to a contrasting silence after a party again. <