Action Steps...To Who?

Night falls again. 

The sky splits open in a hellish storm and Hyun shivers by her window. Her eyes are open and she’s conscious, but her mind is stuck in her nightmare; the feminine silhouette appeared in her backyard as it usually did. Hyun ran to catch her and she disappeared again. 

Her back is slick in a fine layer of cold sweat.

Chanyeol materializes by her side. The daze that follows her terrors must block out her own screaming.

Nevertheless, all that matters is Hyun clings to him desperately. The heed of the previous night dissolves. Chanyeol doesn’t ask permission. He simply gathers Hyun in his arms and she lies on his chest, reveling in the concrete warmth his body engulfs her in. When the haze passes, Hyun is hyper-aware of the stony muscle pressing gently into her cheek. Their legs are tangled and Hyun is in Chanyeol’s lap. Her chest grows hot at the thought. Their positions are even more intimate than the night before. Hyun can’t bring herself to pull away. She doesn’t want to. After some time of sitting in the darkness, Chanyeol’s breath hitches like he wants to say something. Hyun feels the hiccup rattle his chest, stutter his pulse, and she waits patiently for him to continue.

“I hope I’m not being rude. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to," he says.

“Shoot,” Hyun mumbles.

“Why are so attached to this window?” he asks.

Hyun stirs at this. 

tightens more and more the longer the question sits in the air. That is something she hasn’t even told Mina. Yes, she knows that Hyun’s mom is out of the picture. She just doesn’t know the extent of Hyun’s nightmares or the sort of deterioration they’ve caused. Mind you, it isn’t for a lack of her friend’s trying. There are things Mina tries to wheedle out of her. This has never been one of them. Hyun loves Mina like a sister. Still, there are things Hyun keeps to herself. Not because she doesn’t trust Mina, but because she’s afraid of how they’ll sound after they spill out of . She’s afraid of the ridicule behind Mina’s hooded eyes disguised by a smile and nod. 

Irrational, yes, but there. 

Of course, Hyun doesn’t answer.

“I...can’t. I...just-” she stumbles through her words.

“That’s alright.”

The window seems like a portal. The sheet of rain pouring from the indigo sky muddles the reality before her eyes. She jumps when thunder cracks after brilliant lightning paralyzes her senses. Chanyeol anchors his hand more securely on Hyun’s side. 

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks. Same as the night before.

Hyun doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

She falls asleep again because Chanyeol is eternally warm and her own shaking has tired her out, apparently.

Waking up the next day, Hyun finds that Chanyeol is gone, not snuggled up in her window nook. He's not downstairs whipping up his magic eggs. And he's not in the house at all. She lets herself idly wonder where he could be. If she had his phone number she could ask. And if she had his phone number she probably wouldn’t because how desperate can she get?

Hyun spends her day doing nothing important at all. She paints. She has a snack. She takes a nap. Her day couldn't get any mundane if she tried. 

Mina blows up her phone in the afternoon.

“Lend me something,” her panicked voice shrills.

“What?” asks Hyun, confused.

“Lend me a painting.” Mina nearly begs. “I have less than an hour to scan my art project and email it to my teacher. Then I have to take it to school on Monday. Can you bring me one?”

“Why don’t you come get one?”

“I have other homework to turn in,“ Mina whines. “Please, Lala. I’m gonna be screwed if I don’t finish everything.”

"You have a whole weekend," Hyun says.

"Me and Monica are supposed to be visiting family this weekend," Mina says. "And I kind of, maybe, by a complete accident gave her the slightest impression that I don't have any homework."

“Fine.” Hyun begrudgingly agrees.

“Sweet. See you in a bit then.” The line goes dead.

Hyun picks out a painting that she doesn’t mind losing. It’s old and nothing too extravagant. She spent a few hours working on it after she taught herself about shadowing. It’s a pastel watercolor of a girl in a cafe. Decent, she concludes, and somewhat believable considering Mina’s actual skillset. She bundles up, switching her sweats for some jeans and lacing boots up midway to her knee. She trudges out of the house with her keys in one pocket, phone in the other, and both of her gloved hands shoved deeply into her coat pockets, sheathed painting tucked in her armpit snugly. 

The street is comfortably deserted.

 That’s where her comforts end.

Hyun squints against the splinters of unadulterated sunshine that pry beneath her hood and nearly chokes on the gelid air as it slides down , preventing oxygen from squeezing through without the sharp stab of cold pairing along with it. The deeper she sinks into her coat the warmer she becomes, but that doesn’t dull the drear of her journey as she trudges on toward Mina’s house; which, in reality, is only a ten-minute walk. Though, it feels much longer with the wintry air clogging her nostrils.

Winter is the reason people invited going on vacation.

She finally arrives at the red-brick house and takes one long stride over the couplet steps, knocking on the door. After a minute of shivering at the front door, it opens, and Hyun falls inside gratefully. 

“Hyun, buddy ole’ pal.” Mina wheedles the painting and cover from Hyun before she has a chance to take off her boots. She slides out the painting and smiles. 

“You’ve outdone yourself.” Mina pats her back once. “Confucius said when it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached, don't adjust the goals, adjust the action steps.”

“I’m your action step?”

“Correct, my friend,” Mina nods. “Now let us take action steps to raise my C- in Art.”

"I can't believe you're almost failing Art." Hyun scoffs. "All you have to do is show up and participate. No tests. No pop quizzes. No real work besides completing your assignments and handing them in on time."

"Yeah." Mina shrugs. "I have a slight problem with the showing up part. And the participating part. And, now that I think about it, the turning things in on time really-"

"Ok, ok." Hyun cuts her off. "We get it. Bare minimum can be such a chore."

Mina scans "her" art project and emails it to her teacher. After that, they hole themselves in Mina’s room with snacks and video games. Nostalgia sweeps over her as she leans back into the Pocahontas beanbag chair that used to engulf her small body. Now she can relax in the aged softness without having to tuck her legs underneath her to keep from being swallowed up. Mina’s room isn’t a mess like Hyun’s is so she can roll over the floor when she makes a string of kills using codes Mina has been begging for since they were eleven. Judging by the neatness of her room no one would be able to tell that she only keeps this space clean while her life is actually a huge mess, one that Hyun is consistently cleaning for her. They have been friends too long for Hyun to complain. 

“You haven’t sent me a panicked text to cry about anything Casanova has done,” Mina says with a casual urgency, trying to hold some sort of conversation as she’s in the middle of a battle. “What happened? Is he dead?”

“His name is Chanyeol,” Hyun says, tossing a ball in the air and following its rotation with her eyes.

“Casanova, Chanyeol. Same difference. No text. What’s that about?” Her eyes are still on the screen. Locks of brown hair are hanging around her face as she inches a little off the bed, pressing buttons on the controller with passion. 

“Nothing,” Hyun lies. She tries not to feel guilty. It isn’t working out well though. “He came into my room last night.”

Mina pauses the game immediately, setting the controller beside her on the bed, and looking at Hyun with that face that means ‘keep explaining’. “Did you get the gun?”

Hyun shakes her head with a strained smile. “It wasn’t like that. He just consoled me when I had a nightmare. That’s all.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Mina doesn’t make it any easier on Hyun by sounding so hurt. 

“It wasn’t serious.” Man, she hates lying.

“Serious enough for him to hear and come to your rescue,” she accuses. “You could’ve called me at least. Or texted.”

“Next time I will. Promise.” Hyun fails to tell her that it would be hard. Sometimes, she can’t even remember her name. She’s too busy shuddering, and crying, occasionally, to do something as simple as pick up her phone. Everything else that seems as trivial as that is a challenge when the same barren face is clogging up her thoughts and making her regret something that’s not her fault.

By the time Hyun is done whooping Mina in Zombie Slayer III, the sun has already set and the street is pitch black. Hyun folds into herself as she walks home, basking in the orange streetlights that cast filmy shadows on the sidewalk until she plunges into darkness again. She rushes to the next streetlight, slowing her steps considerably to shiver in the dusty glimmer.

Wind whistles past her ears. Shadows duck in and out of her peripheral vision. She tries to convince herself that it’s night and dark and that nothing is coming after her. She tells herself that no one is lying in wait to drag her off to an alley and bottle her organs. She tells herself that she can make it to the next block without harm.

She approaches a bus stop with a body huddled beside the sign, bundled up from head to toe, and almost stops walking out of surprise. Alarms are going off in her head to switch sides of the street. She doesn’t like feeling delusional, but she also likes living. An intense, short-lived battle wages in her head until she is almost at the bus stop and the body shrinks, true form appearing. He’s hunched and shaking from the cold.

Hyun eases up, even smiles a little. The shape shifts and an old man appears out of her previous fears. She’s upset that she even had the gall to give the sweet, wrinkled man the stink eye. He probably has six kids and ten grandchildren. His name is Willy Frank, but his friends just call him Will. He plays chess every Sunday and goes to church. He’s not apart of some senior citizen gang that preys on teenage girls.

She needs to stop. 

Hyun smiles and speaks to the man as she passes him.

“Evening, sweetheart.” He smiles, dark freckles lighting up a canvas of wrinkly cheeks.

Hyun makes it home after twenty minutes of paranoia piling up in her mind and reducing her thoughts to a scattered mess of nerves, all buzzing and on edge. Light spills from underneath the closed bedroom door of Ben's room. Hyun doesn’t give it a second thought as she goes straight to her own room, closes the door, and pulls up a chair to her easel. 

She immediately puts the shadows on paper. 

The anxiety doesn’t melt away. It never works that way. But she forces her brain to concentrate on something else until she can think straight. Hyun finds a bitter solace in the dark lines that bleed onto the white paper, marring its temporary purity. She works in planes when the urge arises. The sidewalks converge at a point and the shadows are streaks of charcoal and grey. Later, almost as an afterthought, she blotches a trembling dot in the center of the space, and finishes by signing her name at the bottom. It’s really not worth enough for her to feel the need to mark it, but she does anyway, out of habit.  

ᴅ ᴇ ғ ᴇ ᴄ ᴛ  ʀ ᴇ ᴊ ᴇ ᴄ ᴛ s

Each day passes with exaggerated slowness. When Chanyeol is home, Hyun makes a conscious effort to show her face. She takes Mina up on more offers to hang out at her house. Monica is there sometimes, which makes it harder for her to leave because Mina thinks she’s being slick when she coaxes Hyun into staying longer. She says it’s because she misses her best friend and Chanyeol is doing a great job at luring the hermit out of her lair. Hyun sees right through it.

Mina is ashamed of Monica. Hyun sees it in the way that she is never willing to go downstairs when the tv is blaring Desperate Housewives.

Out of all the homes Mina’s been to, Hyun likes Monica’s the best. She’s been around for five years already, a record. Of course, there is no perfect household. They’ve both been around multiple times when Monica stumbled home from some club, slurring and giggling like a schoolgirl. Or from somewhere else, spacey and lethargic. Fortunately for everyone, regardless of whatever is leaking through her system, she never gets violent. She’s more like a pet than anything. A heavy one that the two of them sometimes have to drag to her bed.

It’s been five years already and Mina is still ashamed. Hyun always has wanted to tell her that something is always better than nothing. She’s seen worse. They’re both lucky CPS pulled her out of some of the situations she’s been in. Monica is a walk in the park compared to what she’s already had to deal with. She cares.

Unlike some people.

Aside from chilling with Mina, Hyun paints, does independent study, listens intently when Chanyeol gives lessons, and sleeps as much as she can. Her night terrors have subsided for the past week and she doesn’t look so hollow anymore. Chanyeol’s meals help fill the gap between her thighs and the spaces in her ribs. Her complex returns; she’s thin with chubby cheeks and a round, babyface. She doesn’t mind as much though.

Chanyeol isn’t really like other people. Not in the anxiety-inducing, nerve agitating sense.

When Hyun’s dad calls to tell her he’ll be away for at least another week or so she surprises the old man by taking it pretty well. Hyun can handle herself fine. She is going entire days without the need to howl at her window like a lost wolf pup. 

Victory. 

Another day passes like it usually does. 

Hyun tells herself that she’ll get eight hours of sleep. That she’ll turn Chanyeol down even if he tries to help her because she’s only being a nuisance. She will sleep through the entire night, wake up in the morning, and do something productive the next day.

Shae hates lying, especially to herself.

The black sky bends in a horrific way that casts a monstrous shadow on the flooding snow. Hyun stares wide-eyed, the tip of her nose grazing the cold glass as she slips out of herself. Her mind is full of stark nothingness, body paralyzed with fear. She doesn’t realize she’s shivering until she stops.

“You don’t have to do this,” Hyun says once she’s settled in between Chanyeol’s legs, head nuzzled in the juncture between his jaw and collarbone with a gall that dissipates once the sun rises. “You can just ignore me.”

“Would you be able to sleep when someone was and crying?” There's no malice in his voice.

Hyun winces. She didn’t know she was that bad. How does her dad put up with it? Has he gotten used to it? Or, does he sleep so heavily he can just...block it out?

“I told you, I’ve been here before,” Chanyeol says with empathy in his voice. “It’s not fun. I don’t mind, really.” 

Hyun feels relaxed when Chanyeol her arm, warm fingers kneading into her cold, fear-stricken skin. It’s always worth it. She never forgets how weird this is, she can’t. But as the days go on she is able to care less. Chanyeol has deep, brown eyes that spell comfort and home. He wraps his arms around Hyun like she’ll try to get away. 

She won’t.

“Tonight?” Chanyeol asks, breath tickling Hyun’s neck and causing her to shiver a bit. She’s wound up already as it is. As grateful as she is for him being here like he is, her lips won’t move. She isn’t completely sure if she wants them to either.

“I’m sorry,” Hyun whispers back.

“Don’t be.”

And that’s it. He doesn’t push. 

Hyun is too warm, too calm. She definitely falls asleep. That’s not a mystery. The only question she has when she wakes, snuggled up in her bed, and feeling well-rested for the first time in the last few days, is if the entire thing was a dream. She wonders while gazing sleepily at the bright rays of winter sun slicing through the gaps in her blinds if everything was a dream. Maybe Chanyeol hadn’t helped her sleep last night. Maybe Chanyeol doesn’t really feel like a superhero come to save her from herself. 

She goes downstairs in her pajamas. Chanyeol is up and watching television. He turns around on the couch when Hyun walks a little closer. His fringe is unstyled and settled on his forehead, grazing his eyebrows. He’s wearing a hoodie and some basketball shorts. Cute. 

“You’re up?” He grins.

“Yeah.”

“Are you hungry?”

Hyun waves her hands urgently when Chanyeol makes a move to get up.

“I’ll do it,” she says. “Are you hungry?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “Already ate. It’s almost eleven.”

“Eleven?” She’s more than surprised. It’s been a while since she slept that much. Of course, she can’t really pinpoint how long she was up and do precise calculations, but she feels better. It’s been a while. 

“You slept well last night.” There’s something more to his genuine smile. Hyun can’t help but grow fond of it. Chanyeol makes her stomach dip and quiver. She nods and disappears into the kitchen to draw up a plan to dig her way to China. She won’t survive if he’s going to keep looking at her like that. 

ᴅ ᴇ ғ ᴇ ᴄ ᴛ  ʀ ᴇ ᴊ ᴇ ᴄ ᴛ s

Later on in the day, at around five, Mina comes barging into her house, unannounced but welcome. By this time Hyun has showered and put on some lounging clothes. Her hair even smells nice since she washed it earlier and left it to dry in two french braids, massaged with coconut oil. Her skin is cocoa butter soft. Nothing can ruin this sweet feeling. Nothing.

“Is that Casanova?” Mina blurts as soon as she has her shoes off and her coat in the closet. Chanyeol is just in the kitchen and it's not like they have sound proof walls or anything. 

“Big mouth,” Hyun hisses and nudges her friend to the stairs. Mina pokes her bottom lip out but complies nonetheless. They get to Hyun’s room and close the door. 

“Oh Lord, he’s handsome.” Mina plops herself on the bed. “That's your tutor?”

Hyun nods as she’s dragging her easel from the corner and setting up shop in the middle of the room.

“Could I borrow him sometime? I’d be interested in learning a little anatomy myself.” Mina leans back on the pillows, kicking one leg over to prop it up on her other knee, smug.

Hyun makes a gagging sound. “Poor him.”

“How old is he, 18?” Mina asks, completely ignoring Hyun’s insult. 

“Yeah," she replies, indifferently.

“Really now...” 

Hyun shakes her head slowly and shoots her friend a look of confusion. “Not quite sure where this is going but I’m scared to find out.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Mina blurts out again.

Hyun’s wrist freezes just as she is about to mix the blue with white to make turquoise, or something close enough. Mina poses her a grin somewhere between smug and elated at Hyun’s reaction. Hyun doesn’t mean to. She’s just so taken back by the question. It's been rumbling around in her head for the past week now. She can't escape it. 

“I don’t know.“ Hyun sighs once she’s recovered from her belated surprise. "Maybe."

“Okay, this is the cutest thing ever.” Mina looks like she is enjoying herself way too much, and at Hyun’s expense. “Well, you have been engaging in nightly escapades. Really, it was only a matter of time.”

“Nightly escapades?" Hyun blanches. "You’re erted.”

“And you’re in love with your tutor.” Mina teases.

“The door. Feel free to use it.” Hyung grumbles.

“I’m only messing with you.” Mina groans and twists around on Hyun’s bed, feet swinging childishly in the air. “Come on, be honest with me and with yourself. It's more than what you're trying to convince me it is.”

“I don't know, okay?” Hyun says, firm. Her head says that she can’t be that weak, that vulnerable for her to succumb to the first guy that breathes in her direction.  

“Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance.” 

Hyun pulls a face. “What does that mean?”

Mina makes a grand show of closing her eyes and holding out both hands before she places one over her chest and points one finger at Hyun, eyes opening abruptly with a playfully sinister squint. “It means you're in love with him.”

“I knew it,” Hyun curses, shaking her head and grumbling to herself afterward. “I knew you were gonna say that. I walked right into it.”

Someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Hyun says from her easel. The paper is just as blank now as it was ten minutes ago. She hopes sitting here for a little longer will cause something to sprout in her brain. 

“Hey.” Chanyeol pops his head in.

“Hey.” Hyun feigns business. She mixes some more colors in an attempt to seem preoccupied. She doesn’t bother to wonder why she cares if Chanyeol thinks she’s being productive. 

“I'm gonna head over to my friend's house. Probably will be back in a couple of hours,” Chanyeol says. "If you're awake, we could have a little late-night snack. If not, good night."

“Okay, cool.” Hyun shrugs with a slight grin. "If I'm not, good night."

“Cool, cool.” Chanyeol turns to Mina. “You must be Mina. I'm Chanyeol.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” Mina waves. Chanyeol ducks out of the room. After a few minutes of Hyun scratching dumb ideas into her pad, she finally gives up. Mina jumps up soon after Hyun has accepted that nothing is coming. She walks over to the door.

"I gotta get back before Monica starts blowing up my phone," Mina says. "Final exams are next week. And Monica has been on my about studying."

“You’re going to study?” Hyun asks in mock disbelief.

“I’m going to make arrangements,” Mina corrects her poshly.

Hyun snorts. “So, you’re gonna find a way to cheat.”

“Make. Arrangements,” Mina says exasperatedly. “Listen, Lala. When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached…-”

“I know, know.” Hyun cuts in with a snicker. "Adjust your cheating steps."

“Oh, hardy-har-har.” Mina rolls her eyes. “I’ll remember to tell Chanyeol that. You know, Chanyeol, your lover?”

Hyun gets up so fast that her brushes and the tin they are in go flying off the ledge of her easel. Mina’s mocking kissy-face morphs into an expression of elation at the reaction she’s managed to weasel out of her friend. Hyun chases her down the stairs. Mina is barely able to grab her coat and shove her feet into her boots before Hyun slams the door behind her.