Twelve Days Before          

                       I’ve never really been the biggest fan of weddings. The vows, the dancing, the long trained dresses and pearled bodieses which would likely suffocate you for the best part of the day. I didn’t like the idea of spending one’s earning of a lifetime to feed people whom they probably didn’t even acquaint much, or listening to them giving speech after speech despite not having shared even a sandwich over the odd summer holidays. I wasn’t a fan of weddings whatsoever, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t particularly fond of attending them. Attending wedding receptions was fun, attending wedding receptions had its own perks. And as for me, the reason why I was here, precisely at this moment, sitting in the audience witnessing my best friend’s sister tying the knot, I had to say, was the cake.

A popular belief, wasn’t it? That sad old singletons attended people’s weddings just so that they could have at least the supreme indulgence of culinary delights? ‘I’ll be there for the cake’ would say a girl who’d had a recent heartbreak or who inherently despised the idea of marriage. It's not in the books per se; no great philosophers had it preserved in ink and parchment. But it's there; out in the open, in the champagne and lavender infused air, in every threadbare of satin ties and silk dresses like a beckoning. The belief that some were there for weddings for the cake whereas their truest intentions was to bystand in an occasion they were almost too certain that they’d never experience in the time of their life.

I wasn’t there for the cake. I already knew what the cake was going to be like. Almond and Rose`, I’ve been there at the cake tasting as my best friend wanted me to be there. I knew what the design was going to be, I knew how many canapes were ordered, I knew what brand of champagne the waiters would be carrying around on chrome trays. I wasn’t there for the cake, no. The reason I was there (other than being invited with a pearly linen invitation card embossed with golden cursive) was my ex boyfriend, the man who left me for my other best friend, for her tinkle of a laughter and girly charms, making me feel less of me than I already did.

To be honest, I wasn’t too happy with the idea of being here. We didn’t have the best relationship; our love wasn’t all rainbows and flowers, and it was hardly anything to cry over. We fought, we cried, we stood at the edge of reason and watched as our hopes and dreams crumbled apart. When we went on seperate ways, I already knew that we hadn’t a chance of making things better again. We simply was not on a bad patch. We weren’t standing on grounds of a relationship at all. What actually did hurt me, however, was not that we never worked out. It was that he still found solace in the next first opportunity that came about (My other best friend) while I was left to rot; old, haggard and exhausted, as his life danced around in spontaneous dates, chilled wine and nights out wrapped in cashmere scarves. He could simply move on from one boat to the other as I remained stranded in an island which seemed to suffer in an eternal drought.

And i was there to witness him, see him being brilliant and happy, wrapped around in the hands of my other best friend, stars in his eyes and grace in his smile like he’d won the world, then sit in a corner and think about all the what ifs and could have beens that I’d miss out.

“Cake?” a voice echoed to the side of me, and I looked up to see Sung Gyu, my best friend who’s sister got hitched tonight, standing beside me with a ceramic plate in his hand; it was laden with a massive slice of almond and Rose` cake, balanced on it was a tall glass of bubbling champagne.

“If you spill that on my head, I swear to god-,” I begin tiredly as he placed the glass on the table before me. I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t first hand experience on it. But god, I did. The first time was a can of paint when we were in twelfth grade and he had me slaving for him, holding the ladder by its legs as he painted the roof of his mother’s store green. It wasn’t a nice experience, really. It was either that I live with sticky green mess of a hair for the next few decades, or go bald. Everyone agreed that I went with the second.

Sung Gyu laughed and pulled out the chair beside me. I hadn’t seen him for the entire day; he was sort of like the main organizer for the whole wedding, which his sister couldn’t be involved with, tackling a high-demanding job and her first month of pregnancy. He’d been all over the place, looking into what could have possibly gone amiss. But still he didn’t forget to make it a point to come and remind me not to creepily stare at woohyun, my ex. He said he could see me right across the hall and that i looked a bit creepy. His observation didn’t help me much, to be honest. Now I had to stare and make it not too obvious, which wasn’t an easy task in itself.

“So, how you feeling?” he asked, placing both his hands on the table before him. His expensive cufflinks glimmered incessantly under the chandelier lights.

“Very single” I sighed, playing with my serviette. It’s been long since i had last been single. Woohyun and I had dated for good three years, and as uneventful as that time had been, I was still occupied, I had something going on and my focus was diverted. At least I wasn’t sitting in a corner, watching the time of my life flying into the nether.

“That’s not even a feeling” Sung Gyu groaned, throwing at me the accusing look that he’d been giving me for the last few weeks. It's been nearly a month since we actually split, and for that entire month I’d been brooding and Sung Gyu’d tried to be supportive, but well...he tried. I couldn’t say he’d been exactly helpful.

“It is a feeling when you are emotionally hurting and raw“ I returned defensively, pouting my lips.

“Come on, it’s not like everything’s over” He said and met my eyes, raising his brows that it nearly reached his hairline. “Who knows, there could be someone better around the corner”

“Who?” I challenged, and gazed across the hall where Woohyun was sitting surrounded by my other friends whom I couldn’t associate with since we were over. “Nobody’s going to be as good as Nam Woohyun”

And that was the truth. When I first met Nam Woohyun, we were both running for the same bus. He was a writer, a poet; one of those people who preferred to live like they were very well below the poverty line although in reality, had a very good lump in their multiple bank accounts. He wasn't stingy. He just saved. And the he used that money for charity and invested on funding a cat rescue program. He used public transport, observed people and situations being a quiet bystander. He smiled at people, offered seats to elderly and helped children off the steps before the bus took off. I met him in one such situation when I couldn’t reach the bus on time. He stood by the door, not allowing it to shut close and his hand held out for me to grasp. As I did, I literally felt the sparks flying, my world spinning around and finally falling into place. When I first met his eyes and saw him smile, I thought that this was going to be the man I would be marrying and spend the eternity with.

A month later, now broken apart, I still couldn’t get around the fact that it never turned out to be that way.

“Eh, don’t be that dramatic he’d not that great” Sung Gyu replied dismissively, and had a mouthful of the cake that he brought for me. He had a bit of frosting on the corner of his lips, which he seemed to be completely oblivious of, and almost instinctively, i picked up the serviette that I’ve been playing with and wiped it off. “You learn how to eat properly”

He just shrugged noncommittally and continued to eat the cake. And he was still talking; he was counting off on his fingers, all the reasons why Woohyun made a terrible boyfriend. “First off, he’s stingy. What does he spend on anyway except for his stupid cats? And then he’s short, I can literally fold him and put him in my pocket. Third off, can you even tolerate his silly little poems in your wallet every single ing day?”

I angrily balled the tissue with frosting on it in my fist. “He’s not stingy, he’s saving unlike you who spend on Video Games!” i poked on his arm for emphasis. “And what’s the matter in being short? You’re tall and lanky but you don’t look as good as he does. Then lastly, I liked his silly little poems”

Sung Gyu pouted as he looked at me, appearing hurt and offended which I knew for a fact he wasn’t. Sung Gyu was chilled like that. There was nothing that offended him except for bad drivers and law breakers and people who didn’t use honorifics on him. But that was only because he was teaching in a school or the other (Okay, he was a lecturer. He taught music, so what?) and he liked to live his like he never broke a single law but i’d seen him enough times running red lights and shrugging it off when I brought it up. And to be honest, he wasn’t that so shabby looking; he looked great when he put in an effort, liked he did today (Hair pushed up, nicely pressed dark suit and all that) only except that he hardly ever put an effort. But that didn’t mean he could compare himself to the epitome of perfection that Nam Woohyun was.

Not that he did so anyway.

I didn’t realise that I was once again staring at Woohyun across the room, thinking back to everything that I used to be and how much I despised my other best friend despite what truly happened, and it was only when Sung Gyu touched the chilled glass of Champagne to my cheek that I returned from my train of thoughts.

“Quit it, you are ruining my make up” I slowly pushed his hand away.

“Nah you look good” he pressed his sleeve onto my cheek, the soft fabric grazing over my skin. “Either Way, you got to stop that staring business. He wasn’t worth it anyway”

I rolled my eyes and folded my hands on my chest. “Is that what you’re here to tell me?”

He hummed, his head tilted to a side and shook his head. “No”

“You didn’t even let me have my cake” I went on, poking at what's left of what could have been the luscious almond and Rose delight. “I am here for Woohyun. And if you don’t let me have that, at least let me have the cake”

“There’s plenty” He shrugged, pushing the last of what's left of the cake towards me. A waiter with a chrome tray laiden of champagne passed by and Sung Gyu reached over to grasp one for me. He placed it in front of me, quietly folded a paper napkin and placed it on a side. Then he looked at me and smiled.

Sung Gyu had a disarming smile, so much so that i couldn’t even begin to hate him. If i felt even slightly annoyed by what he’d been doing, it all simply washed away. He made me feel warm; Sung Gyu did. He made me feel content and comfortable that it was hard to imagine a life without him.

There was a fine line between a best friend and a lover. There was a reason why Woohyun was a lover and Sung Gyu was my best friend. There were more than one thing that made them two different but two important people in my life. Perhaps, I could live without Woohyun. I wouldn’t say it was possible; but I could manage, yes, I could try. But Sung Gyu, well, I was too attached to him in a way that he was literally a part of me. And a life without him? I couldn’t even imagine myself existing, as if him being there was all I needed to go on living. I had wondered enough times if that fine line had ever blurred; when I had first broken up and cried into his shoulder, when I got into college and he was the one who drove me there, when I was thirteen and got my first period and he was there to cover my stained behind with his jacket. But then, something stopped me, something held us apart and I couldn’t let the lines blur and let myself crossover lest we lost everything that we were. I was scared, that’s all there was to it. I couldn’t bear losing him. We always lost lovers; they faded away like the last sheans of snow in the spring. But best friends like Sung Gyu; they were there to remain as long as life lasted, and that’s all I had always wanted from him, nothing more.

“You can’t bribe me with extra champagne” I told him as I picked it up and took a sip. Sung Gyu raised his brows, perhaps at my contradictory actions and explanations and he drank from his own.

“Don’t you think you’re forgetting something?” He asked afterwards, his brows still raised high up, and then slowly he lifted his sleeve and tapped on his wrist watch. It took me a moment for the truth to dawn upon me, and when it did, I placed a hand on my forehead.

The weirdest thing was this. The only day that Sung Gyu could get the wedding venue booked was the day that he cherished the most. Despite his age, he really acted like a silly hormonal teen sometimes; and after having booked the hall for his favourite day of the year, he had called me somewhere in the middle of that night and complained; “She’s going to have her wedding on MY day and steal the show” he told me as if he wasn’t even the one to book the hall for her. I had imagined how his lips pouted and eyes widened, like an idiot of a child. Since then whenever he brought it up, I’d literally hit myself with a snap.

“God, you’re ridiculous” I said and reached out for my clutch. I made sure it looked embarrassing, so I had put everything in a small lavender envelop. In front of it was a little cartoon drawing of ‘We Bear Bears’ and it smelled of my favourite perfume. He breathed in the air wafting around it for a moment, making a face. But still he returned to smile like a child as he stared at the envelop in my hand.

“Come here” I told him, and when he obliged, I moved closer and put my hands around his neck. “Happy birthday, you old man”

That’s right. Kim Sung Gyu, my best friend will be turning thirty two on this one fine day. Despite his age, he was still sulking over that his sister got to cut the cake and enjoy all the wedding related shenanigans on his birthday. For months, I was continuously hearing the same old, same old thing. She’s taking all of my attention, this is MY chance of attention, this is MY time for presents. Sometimes I wished I could remind him that god, he was a grown man. But then, I noticed it that there was nobody else in the world that he would behave this way with; except me. Not his sister, not his parents. That made me feel a little special, somehow, although it was mostly an actual pain in the neck. It was quite adorable in a way as well, if it didn’t climb up my nerves sometimes.

“Thank you! you’re too nice” He said, and I could almost feel his grin against my shoulder.

“Quit it, I know what you wanted” I replied, pushing the envelope into his hands. He grasped it with a little squeak, like a chipmunk, and held it to his chest as if he’d just gotten the best gift in the world. I couldn’t help but smile fondly at his response. True, Woohyun was evidently cuter, but I swear to god Sung Gyu sometimes literally took my breath away with all the adorable things he could do. He ripped it open carefully, and the stack of vouchers that I bought for him slipped into is hands. It's all to buy his favorite gaming CDs. That’s what I got for him every birthday; that, or an expensive meal. He prefered his games the most, to be honest. I could swear I had spent more than half my income trying to purchase every single game that he needed.

“God, this is everything I wanted” He said, looking through the vouchers like they meant anything more than what they actually were. The nicest thing about Sung Gyu was that he was genuinely appreciative; be it birthday gifts or a nice meal or christmas presents that I’d give him; it could be vouchers for his games or dinner at his favourite restaurant, he’d still show his appreciation, contentment and genuine enthusiasm in a way so real that you couldn’t begin to hate him for what trouble you had to go through for him. He could afford his games, of course, he had enough money for all the expensive dinners that he desired. But for some reason, he’d rather have them coming from me; and for some reason, I’d rather be the one delivering for his happiness as well.

For the next few minutes, I sat and listened to all the games that hoped to buy with the vouchers, how it was probably the best thing he’d gotten on his birthday and how his mother forgot it in the morning and he had to literally remind her. I listened to him, laughed at him when I should, nodded and responded with my wittiest remarks. For that moment, like it always did whenever I spent time with Sung Gyu, all my qualms and worries faded away. For that moment, everything just felt better; I felt wanted, I felt loved. I felt my worth as someone important in his life, and the fact that my ex had chosen someone better over me didn’t even matter. For twenty years, Sung Gyu and I had never changed; I’d always been his best friend, and so had he been mine. That remained like a constant, our friendship; as if I needn’t even fear of losing each other.

At some point, we both were laughing so hard that I spilled my glass all over the table and down on my dress. It dripped down my silk skirt and onto the tiled floor as both of us stared at the bubbly liquid, stifling a laughter.

“Clumsy idiot” He said, making a face, and I couldn’t burst out laughing. He really had this funny way of speaking, Sung Gyu did. He always had me laughing at any point of the day to the point that I couldn’t even catch my breath; another one of the many things that had never changed between us.

“I can literally feel it in my clothes” I complained as he dabbed the cold liquid off my clothes. He was laughing, and I could only see the top of his head and the way his shoulders shook. His hair smelled nice, really, a bit like lavender. I took a deep breath of his scent and poked my fingers into his hair.

“Do you need a change of clothes or-?” He asked, finally lifting his head, and I climbed up on my feet. “Better have a trip to the loo, can’t have my underwear soaking”

“Too much information” He rolled his eyes and shoved me ahead. “Go off, I’ll get this cleaned up”

Ignore the strange chapter breaking as its one story split apart! :)