Chapter 7

fragments

«If that condition of mind and soul which we call inspiration lasted long without intermission, no artist could survive it. The strings would break and the instrument be shattered into fragments.»

— Tchaikovsky

♫♩ ♫♩ ♫♩ ♫♩ 

After the sun has set and a cool breeze slips through the open window, Dahyun lies awake, staring up at the ceiling filled with posters of idols she admires. Dahyun thinks too much, too much about everything. She frets too much about her future; which university she’s going to attend, or if she’s going into the military first. She wonders, quietly, alone in her room, who she’s going to be —who she’ll become.

(But the thing about waiting is, if you wait too long, time will slip through your fingers like sand, memories will fade into dust and you will be left alone on the shore. The ocean waves will collect your future and drag it out to sea, and you can only stand on the seashore and watch it leave.)

The future’s a scary thing, and Dahyun feels unprepared. She’s a bit lost, unsure of herself. But for her own sake, Dahyun pretends to know, to stay in control.

Dahyun hopes she won’t change too much, because the thought of change scares her. And Dahyun doesn’t like surprises, doesn’t like loosing control, and she especially doesn’t like it when her feelings commandeer her. 

Then there’s Sana, just the thought of her makes Dahyun sigh out loud, she rolls onto her stomach, burying her face in a pillow. It’s more than a crush, because Dahyun’s had crushes before, she knows what if feels like to have a crush.

But then Dahyun had stupidly confessed to Nayeon, the choir girl, that she had a crush on one of her friends. And now Nayeon’s constantly asking Dahyun about it, wanting to know more. Nayeon doesn’t let go of the subject, Dahyun doesn’t give in, so the question sits in the space between them, filling the void.

At the moment, the only thing Dahyun knows with certainty is that Sana’s different.

Dahyun’s entire body is set aflame when she thinks about Sana; heat crawls up her arms, over her shoulder blades and down her spine. It makes Dahyun shiver. But that’s only one of the many things she feels when she thinks about Sana. Some days, when Dahyun thinks about Sana, her chest flutters, as if a bird inside her wants to break free. Other days, thinking about Sana makes Dahyun feel like she’s sitting in the rain: Her clothes cling uncomfortably to her body, suddenly she’s cold and shaking, and her skin starts to tingle.

Luckily the thoughts don’t last very long, if they did, Dahyun might go mad, shatter and break. Then Dahyun would have to put herself back together again, and Dahyun doesn’t want that. Figuring out feelings is difficult, and Dahyun reckons life’s never meant to be easy. Still, it doesn’t make the situation any less frustrating. There’s too much on Dahyun’s plate right now, her mind’s scattered, her thoughts a storm, and Dahyun’s just trying to keep her head above the waterline.

Dahyun huffs, closes her eyes and accidentally thinks about Sana’s pale and pretty neck, and her slender fingers. Dahyun sighs again.

Sana’s beautiful.

But it’s the small things that make her so. Sure, Sana’s got a pretty face and a perfect smile that makes Dahyun’s heart beat staccato. But it’s the small things, really.

Sana’s kind, too kind, and she always puts someone else’s needs before her own. Dahyun usually notices this when Sana volunteers to stay behind after orchestra rehearsal to put the chairs and music stands away. Dahyun also knows that Sana goes out of her way to help her friends: Nayeon constantly talks about Sana when they’re supposed to be practicing, she says Sana takes on too many projects, that she has a difficult time saying no to people. Dahyun thinks, sadly, Sana might be a bit of a pushover.

Even though Sana might come off as a bit eccentric to some, and maybe some’ll think it’s all an act, Sana’s actually quite calm, easygoing. Sometimes a bit shy. Especially around Dahyun, but Dahyun reckons that’s because she herself is quiet, and Sana adjusts to Dahyun. Though, the silence between them is always nice. And Dahyun admires how Sana can read others like they were a book. Dahyun wishes she could do the same, especially with Sana, but Sana’s an enigma Dahyun can’t crack.

And then there’s all of those other little things Sana does: Sana bites her bottom lip when she’s unsure about something. When she’s cold, she pouts, wrapping her arms around her chest, and Dahyun thinks she looks cute. When it’s warm and the sun is shining, Sana’ll close her eyes while looking up at the sky. She’ll smile, as if all her troubles have melted into the sunlight.

Yeah, Sana’s beautiful.

Dahyun used to think she wanted to be Sana, to be worry-free, to be kind and selfless. But no. It’s different, definitely different. Dahyun just wants to hold Sana’s hand, to be around her. Sana makes Dahyun weak. Sana makes Dahyun brave.

It’s all very confusing. Overwhelming as well. Dahyun doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to act around Sana. She thinks her friends might know something’s wrong. Chaeyoung’s been bugging her about it, Tzuyu keeps giving her these worried looks. And Nayeon (who isn’t really Dahyun’s friend) constantly pesters Dahyun about who her crush is.

Amidst it all, Dahyun pretends that everything’s all right, but inside she’s falling apart: Her bones are breaking, her heart jumps, runs dry, it’s like she’s drowning and floating at the same time. Dahyun’s fragmented, pieces of herself are scattered all around her, and Dahyun’s too tired to gather up the bits. She takes a deep sigh, then exhales. It’s a physical sensation, liking someone so much without having the courage to do anything about it, it’s like a string is slowly being pulled from her chest.

Dahyun reaches for her earphones, presses play on her phone, rolls onto her back, shuts her eyes, and waits for the night to pass.