What woke me up wasn’t the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks anymore, accompanied by the cool breeze which carried the salty smell of the sea. It would be dogs barking, or sirens wailing from a distance. Whenever I drew my curtains apart and stare at the infinite stretch of glimmering buildings ahead of me, my origin seemed like a distant dream.

   I wish it were a dream—something I could easily dissociate from—so when others would ask about my past, I could say my life began in the city, and not by the sea, where I shared my illusory childhood with six other boys. That way, it wouldn’t hurt as much. I wouldn’t feel as much.

   It was a weekend, and I had no plans of going out. Still dazed, I went to the kitchen and put the kettle on before reaching out for my mug. I scooped a spoonful of coffee and transferred it to the French press. I turned my Bluetooth speaker on, and streamed a random playlist created by a user I follow. Just to drown the muffled silence, or my subconscious longing for the sea.

   Halfway through my breakfast, someone knocked on my door. There was nobody there when I opened it, but a succulent with a sticky note on the tiny pot rested on the mat beneath my feet. It read: Thank you, Namjoon. My books are now happy. -Dahyun

   I glanced at the stairwell, smiled a little, and closed the door behind me. Kim Dahyun moved in three days ago, and perhaps her gratitude pertained to me helping her attach the hanging shelf on her living room wall. She also had a dachshund, to which she lovingly named Sundae. Judging from her belongings, and the way she had prepared, her independence felt more like a vacation than a necessity. Of course, I didn’t ask anything about her, so she wouldn’t have any reason to ask things about me.

   I had that inkling, simply because she brought a hanging shelf with her, but never thought of buying an electric drill, or any other tools that would make assembling things easier. I ended up having to rummage in my storeroom and lend her a hand. There was no specific reason for it, either. I would usually mind my own business, but I simply wound up being there when she needed help, all because Sundae managed to sneak into my place.

   I placed the succulent on the windowsill, and secured the note on the fridge with a magnet that was a souvenir from Japan, which I received from a colleague.

-::-

   Had I not met Dahyun, I wouldn’t have unraveled. That was the gist of it. She was younger than me. She still had that naïve streak in her, and at times, I wondered how she could even fend for herself while looking after a dog. It felt like she could be devoured by the hustlers in the city at any moment, because of the aura she exuded. She was well-sheltered, and came from a good family. Perhaps, every person she’d meet would seem like a charity project to her, and that was why she always let her guard down. She may have seen me as one.

   The shortest way to my workplace was walking through the local park in our neighborhood. I would wear my earphones to drown the noise of the morning traffic, but I bumped into Dahyun one day, and she said something, which I didn’t catch. Sundae was wagging its tail while sniffing the bushes which paved the path. I removed the buds from my ears, and said, “Pardon?”

   “I said you look good in that suit,” she smiled, and said a brief goodbye before finally walking past me. She was wearing a white, oversized hoodie, a pair of denim shorts, and black Roshe Runs. She looked back, and called out, “Please look after Tree!”

   “Who?”

   “Tree. The succulent I gave you. That’s its name.”

   She didn’t wait for a response, and I didn’t want to respond.

-::-

   Having an office job meant completing repetitive tasks. But it paid the bills, so I wasn’t one to complain. I managed to get into an editorial outsourcing company, and perhaps, I should thank Friends for that. My TOEIC score must have pulled my CV up by a notch. All I had to do was sub any available articles from the database, and keep myself updated for any e-mails. If a colleague was struggling with foreign clients, I would be their go-to person. Should I have aimed higher? Perhaps. But being choosy wouldn’t feed me. Start from the bottom until you reach the top. But the unsaid, universal truth is millions of people would be dead before they even reach the top. Unless they have a leverage of some sort—money and connections, for instance.

   “With a brain like yours,” one of my seniors said. “You shouldn’t be rotting away in a place like this.”

   “It does the job,” I replied.

   “You’re still young. You shouldn’t confine your dreams.”

   “I have responsibilities now.”

   “Ah, so you do have dreams.”

   I simply smiled at his comment.

   “On behalf of my generation, I apologize for placing that kind of pressure on you.”

   His sentence never really changed anything, but I thanked him anyway.

   “Your parents must be very proud for having an intelligent and well-rounded son like you.”

   I humbly accepted the compliment, despite not having the slightest idea of what my parents thought of me. And he must have noticed the difference in my silence, for he added, “I know for sure I’d be proud of you, if you were my son.”

   Unmerited kindness always made me doubt. He could have been sincere, but the thought of him pitying me seemed more plausible. Perhaps, it was because of the way I showed kindness, as well. It was usually out of pity.

   I felt sorry for Dahyun, so I helped her out. It was as simple—and as pathetic—as that.

-::-

   It was already dusk when I arrived at our apartment complex, carrying a small bag of groceries. Dahyun was sitting on the stairs, idly drawing away on the notebook-sized sketchpad resting on her lap. I looked around me, and managed to spot Sundae, tail wagging as it stared at the stray cat across the road.

   “Don’t even think about it,” Dahyun tutted without looking at the dog. Sundae’s tail froze, and it resorted to snuggle close to her, instead. That was when she finally lifted her head, only to nod at me. I nodded back at her.

   “It’s getting late,” I said. “Are you okay staying out here?”

   “Yes,” she lifted her sketchpad slightly. “I’m just relaxing.”

   “By drawing a stray cat?”

   She smiled, and finally showed me her sketch. It was indeed the cat across us, with its distinct spots and crooked tail. Nonetheless, instead of a concrete wall behind it, there was a man luring it with a cat teaser. They seemed to be in a yard.

   “Creative,” I remarked.

   “I just figured,” she began. “Maybe it’s something the cat yearns for.”

   “An owner?”

   “A home.”

   “Cats are independent creatures.”

   Dahyun paused at my response, looked up briefly, and shook her head. “They’re proud. Huge difference.”

   Her blind optimism, I figured, was a trait that may make it difficult for me to get along with her. For some odd reason, however, I shook my bag slightly, and asked if she wanted to join me for dinner. She said yes, with no hesitation whatsoever.

   “Dahyun.”

   “Yes?”

   “If somebody offered you candy right now, would you accept it?”

   “Depends. What’s the flavor?”

   “You know…” my voice trailed off. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

   Dahyun vanished for a few minutes, only to show up again at my door, carrying her own tote bag. “Ramen and sticky rice cakes. You could never go wrong with that.”

   She looked around my living room, while Sundae already settled on the carpet at the center of the room, playing with a bone-shaped chew toy. My place was bare. I never saw the purpose of buying decorations. Necessities were much more important than aesthetics.

   “Do you want to watch TV while you wait?”

   “If it’s okay,” she said. “May I help you, instead? I may look like this, but I do know how to work.”

   “Well, all right.”

   She was the one who soaked the rice; she minced and sliced the ingredients I laid out on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t required from either of us, but she ended up talking about herself. Sundae was adopted. She was from the rich district of the city, and was taught by her maid to do the basic household chores to cure her boredom. She moved away because she wanted to, and her parents agreed, under the condition she would visit every now and then.

   “It’s like playing house,” I said.

   “How so?”

   “Once you move away, you don’t really go back.”

   “I just moved houses, not homes.”

   “Independence and pride. Houses and homes. You love playing with words, don’t you?”

   “You could say that,” she said. “What about you? Do you have any interests?”

   “Surviving.”

   There was a short pause, and finally, she replied, “Ever thought of living?”

   “In this part of the world, it’s a privilege, not a right.”

   “It’s a matter of believing.”

   “Well,” I sighed. “That’s very meaningful. It suddenly cured all degrees of depression.”

   “For all I know, it cured mine.”

   I looked at her, and she had a smile on her face as she returned my gaze. “But we all can’t be euthymic now, can we?”

-::-

   Dahyun was an open book. Oddly enough, that lack of enigma in her part was the very thing which made me wonder about her.

   “You’re not a very mysterious person, are you?” I began. We were, once again, in my place. Somehow, after having dinner together, that set-up shortly became the norm. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t. Sundae behaved well, and Dahyun’s presence splashed a bit of warmth and color in my dreary space. She seemed to always have interesting things to say, as well. That could have been an overgeneralization in my part, considering my fascination would usually originate from whatever a person said which didn’t quite match up with my set of beliefs and values.

   She cocked her head. “What made you say that?”

   “Your face,” I said. “It’s a perfect reflection of your current emotions.”

   “Is it bad?”

   “Not necessarily.”

   “Well, you’re quite mysterious,” she admitted. “You don’t speak much.”

   “There’s just not much to say.”

   “You simply choose to be quiet. You don’t like sharing,” she pointed out. “You should try it sometime.”

   “Is being mysterious bad?”

   Dahyun shrugged. “I do think mysterious people don’t really know themselves, though.”

   “Why?”

   “I wonder.”

   I hated to admit it, but Dahyun was on to something there. She hit right where it hurt.