Please read author's note.

“Please come through here”, one of the girls clad in a smart suit instructed pleasantly, and she ushered me along the narrow steps down the audience, the red carpet soft beneath my feet. The entire hall was filled with so many faces; known and unknown. Most of them were students, whom I barely recognised but still knew by the names, and some were invitees; close friends and family as well as fellow staff and academics. Just about everyone that had any connection whatsoever to Sung Gyu’s career were there to witness the occasion. The girl led me right to the front, which was completely unsurprising; to the seat right before the podium where I could see every inch of him as he’d always done before. It had been years since the last time. But of course, nothing had changed.

“Here you go, ma’am” the girl in the suit offered me a brochure which I accepted with a smile. The card was slick and cold against my fingers, and as my eye fell upon it, a massive tinge of pride ignited inside me. Here I was, looking at the love of my life, finally achieving what could be one of the biggest dreams in his life. I ran a hand down the shiny brochure and smiled at the figure of him standing proudly in the card. His smile said nothing about just how nervous and excited he must have been. After all, he’d wanted this for the longest time in his life.

It took days, months and years of sacrifices for him to come to this day, and words couldn’t describe just how and happy I felt. It wasn’t easy for him; just too many things happened to him at once, and only god knew how he’d pulled through it all as impeccably as he had. I looked over at the massive two closed curtains and sighed. In a matter of minutes, he would have his dreams coming true; and I was indescribably proud to be here, witnessing it all with him.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” A familiar voice called, and I looked up to see Sung Gyu’s TA, a young man called Sung Jong standing beside me, a bright smile donning his lips. He held out a folded lavender card, which he offered to me with both his hands. “Professor Kim wanted me to personally deliver this to you”

I smiled at him, although there was a persistent wave of excitement coursing through me. It’s been so long, but not a lot of things have changed. This had to be just one of them. “Thank you, Sung Jong Ssi” I politely took it from his hand. “How is he doing over there?”

Sung Jong had known me for quite a while, having been Sung Gyu’s TA for a long time. He was a nice kid, quite understanding and never took it personally when he had to act the messenger between us this whole time.

“Quite nervous, in fact” He replied sincerely. “But I suppose he knew you’d worry so he wanted me to tell you that he was alright”

I beamed at him, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, once again. You’ve been a great help”

“Glad to be” He told me, and I watched after him as he disappeared down the doors and let out a sigh. I knew that I sometimes worried unreasonably about him. He would be fine. He had done greater and much harder things to come up to this point, so I needn’t worry at all. But then I’d remember his face, the lines of tension and exhaustion around his eyes, and my heart would clench a little. I loved him so much. That much I could tell. And I could never be prouder.

Once Sung Jong was gone, I took a deep breath and finally looked down at the card in my hands. It had been a running inside joke between us ever since that first time. He would find the same type of paper and write to me a note whenever he would please. Coming from the man who despised the love poems in my wallet, it was pleasantly surprising. But I knew that this was different. For one, I hated those poems very much myself, whereas Sung Gyu’s little love notes, I couldn’t wait for the next and I had them all collected in a shoe box back at home.

I opened my card, and his familiar messy writing greeted me, and warmth filled my heart.

‘Tonight, you’d definitely steal the show

Meet me later for some cake?

I love you’

~SG~

“Dummy” I muttered before I could stop myself, my thumb rubbing along his letters as my heart inflated with love. I didn’t think it was even possible to love a person this so much, to fall for him again and again; but here I was.

The show tonight was all for him. He’d worked so hard, and finally its all paying off. But indeed, it was so like Sung Gyu. He would never take the credit on his own. Now I was waiting patiently, happy and excited for what he had planned to deliver. To be honest; I knew what it was going to be like. But he hadn’t revealed to me anything in detail. He said he’d like to keep it a secret, and I respected his wishes.

My phone pinged with a message as the lights of the hall slowly dimmed, drowning us all in the darkness. To my right, both mine and Sung Gyu’s fathers were seated, drowned in their own conversations. Our mothers, of course, had to stay outside. I pulled out my phone to see that my mother had sent a photo of them, and my heart just about burst open. Perfect. Everything was just so perfect.

The room fell in darkness and quietness ensued. I knew what this meant. It was starting.

The soft intro of the piano filled the quietness of the hall, taking my breath away. I knew that sound by heart; I’ve heard it being played thousand million times. The curtains lifted, and a collective sound of breath intakes followed. The entire hall was lightened up by the brilliance of the stage; and there they were, Sung Gyu’s very own Choral Orchestra. Once the entire stage lightened up, so many faces gazing across the audience from the stage, Sung Gyu finally entered and climbed up on the podium.

I could swear to god, I fell in love with him, just like I always did, the moment that he stood on the stage before me. I had seen him like this before. It was I who iron his shirt and pressed his suit, fixed his hair and did the bow tie on his neck before he kissed me. Although I had seen it all, I still fell harder in love with him. I had never seen anyone so confident, so beautiful. I wished I could tell the world that he was mine, that he was the love of my life.

He turned to the audience then, and my hands unconsciously gripped onto the card in my hand. He would do so well tonight. He’d worked so hard for this. I felt so very proud of him. Mine, I told myself as he bowed to the audience, a gloved hand pressed on his chest. He straightened up then, and he was looking directly down at me, smiling in this disarming way. I held my breath. To my distance, I could see the stars in his eyes. It was then that I saw it, he was forming a tiny love heart on his fingers. I looked to his face to see him mouthing at me; ‘I love you’ before he turned away. I was in awe. My heart, perhaps, had stopped beating.

The orchestra itself was so much of hard work; to bring together all the players from the university as well as from outside, training and setting them together so that they played out for their passion as one. It took him ages to make them perfect, practicing and changing and replacing hundred million times. But it had always been his dream to conduct an orchestra of his own; it took almost four years to have his dreams coming true.

The addition of a choir came about being inspired by something that I said. I, of course, had absolutely no idea about how all of these things worked. I was a licensed translator; I could tell apart what people said in different languages, not tell apart what a choir and an orchestra did. So, one day as we both sat together in the sofa watching some of Sung Gyu’s most favourite orchestras on the TV, I just so happened to ask him what happened if we put in a bunch of singers inside. I had imagined that Sung Gyu could perhaps sing with them apart from conducting an orchestra or have a choir as a second option in case the orchestra couldn’t pull through. What he ended up perceiving from my humble little question was that it was the best thing ever that I’d come up with. He made love to me that night just because I had inspired him and I went along with it, although a little perplexed. Who was I to say no to that? Two weeks later he came in and announced that he’d managed to get Kyunghee’s very own choir to join in with him with the orchestra. And so, the ‘Kyunghee Philharmonic Orchestra’ was born.

And tonight, it was their first performance as well as Sung Gyu’s first as a conductor. He required years of training and practice to come to that position, which he had to tackle with work and life, which wasn’t an easy task itself. Adding to that putting together the orchestra and the choir in a way that they’d be in complete harmony, it was all too difficult for him. During that time, he showed me just how strong and persevering he was to achieve whatever he loved. That’s how he’d been in chasing after his dreams. That’s how he’d been, finally finding me.

Although I didn’t know much about classical music, I knew it for a fact that it was so complex, conducting the orchestra and the choir both together. I’d seen them practicing million times. I’d seen Sung Gyu losing his patience and getting frustrated over simple mistakes that nobody in the audience could tell. Something so subtle, something that only he can gather with his sharp expertise. Once when I’d asked him about it, how he could find even the slightest mishaps, what he’d told me was ‘Listen’. According to him, while the orchestra had different timings and tempos, some high, some low, the strings different from bases and so on, the choir had to always be on beat. They were perfectly timed and specific while the orchestra could be different from one another. Then I had asked how the hell did he conduct them together at once? I was mystified, I had to say. For that moment Sung Gyu seemed to me a super hero, someone doing something that was humanely impossible in my mind. Then he laughed at me and pressed a finger to my temple. “You listen, Saera. That’s what you do. The conductor couldn’t possibly bring the two together; its them who do so by listening to each other, and all I have to do is make sure that they listen”

I realised then, what had gotten him so worked up every time something seemingly went wrong in practices was that the players were not listening to the singers. On hindsight, I guess, that had to make one hell of a good relationship advice; to make your love work, you’d listen to each other until your thoughts align with each other, just like them Choral Orchestras did.

And perhaps, that was the mechanism that he used on our everlasting relationship as well.

The orchestra played a set of well selected numbers. Some were classics, some were modern songs covered in an orchestral version which really took a lot of hard work. I had been there when he selected what pieces went in the concert and what didn’t. He was asking for my opinion too, although I was nil in it. I, of course, appreciated how hard he tried to get me involved in it. But I did contribute by suggesting that maybe he could try covering one of our songs in the concert. It was foolish, I know. But then he actually tried it and it worked.

When they played that song tonight, I felt tears in my eyes. All I could see from where I sat was his back, the constant movements of his arms, the way his shoulders flexed, head lowered and sometimes threw back, completely engrossed, like he was in a trance. I had often seen him going into this; I didn’t know what they called it, but a sort of mental state where the artist focused on nothing but the task in hand. When he was doing this, nothing could break his stance, nothing should disturb him. And I’d tried my best to support this, although at some point it just became too difficult to not to. Somehow, I just watched him from his back, this person, the man who held my heart. I couldn’t help but notice just how small he appeared to be, His dark hair had slight brownish ripples, the cufflinks as always, glimmered under the lights. Underneath his sleeves, I could see the graceful movements of his hands. How was it possible? I’d often wondered as I watched him. How did he know these things? How did he control an entire world just with a flicker of his hands? He was incredible, really. Nothing could ever compare to that.

Towards the end, I realised that I had been in some sort of a trance the entire time. Two hours had almost come to an end, all of his pieces performed impeccably well, the entire Hall of Peace in an absolute standstill. It was quiet inside, save for waves of claps at the end of each piece. And now, they were playing the last number; Pachelbel’s Canon in D. After that, it will all be over, his dream keeping its first milestone forth with one successfully completed masterpiece.

Pachelbel’s Canon in D was quite a long piece, which couldn’t be done with the choir lest it would be too complex. Therefore, at the end of the piece when the choir lined up in front of the orchestra again, a buzz of voices erupted behind me. It was not possible. This was the last piece. I looked at the agenda in my hands, and I was right. There were no more choral numbers mentioned underneath.

As the buzz of the audience heightened, a mild sense of panic settled in the pit of my stomach. Our fathers were glancing at me in question as to what was suddenly taking place before me, and I gazed up at Sung Gyu who appeared completely unperturbed, standing still, his back to the audience. Once the choir settled in, however, Sung Gyu stepped down from the podium, and I held my breath.

What on earth was going on here?

From the side of the stage, another one of the most senior conductors walked onto the stage. He was one of Sung Gyu’s mentors, perhaps the one that he was the closest to. He and Sung Gyu politely bowed to each other, and in a strangely complacent movement, Sung Gyu handed over his baton to him. Unconsciously, my hand covered my mouth, my heart beating in my throat. Sung Gyu had worked ever so hard to bring up his orchestra. Then why was he up there, handing it over to his mentor?

But then, something even stranger happened. A mic stand was brought up onto the stage and was placed somewhere in front of the podium and Sung Gyu stood behind it; his hands rested beautifully around the mic, and his eyes, somehow were gazing straight down at me. He tapped onto the mic and soon the buzz of the audience died down. There was an expectant beat of silence as he smiled at everyone apologetically. I was still perplexed. A little sad and angry as well. Was he really going to give his orchestra away, or-?

“I’m extremely sorry for this encore happening under such short notice” He addressed the audience, his voice dripping with confidence, not a single sign of someone who was giving his hard-earned pride away. “It had to happen this way as this final performance is, in fact, a very special surprise for a very special person in my life”

Sung Gyu, as he said this, gazed straight down at me. He raised a hand then and gestured at where I was sitting; I could feel all the eyes on me; curious and surprised. I, on the other hand...well...I didn’t think I had words to describe. A special performance.

For me.

For me.

The entire time, I almost died thinking that he was giving up on everything that he worked for but all this time he had planned a special encore performance for me?

What did I do to deserve someone who loved me so dearly like him?

I was crying. I didn’t realise that I was until I felt the tears descending down my cheeks. He hadn’t just planned a special performance for me. That wasn’t all. He was going to sing for me. The surprise didn’t at all end there.

He had written, composed and arranged his own song, all for me.

As Sung Gyu started singing, just like it always did, everything else in the world blurred around me. All I could see at that moment was him. I traced the sight of him, this love of my life; I created an eternal image of this moment in my mind to keep with until the end of my time. Just like he always did, his hands rested on the mic stand, his eyes, almost always closed, would open to only and only look at me. It was if, for that one moment, I was all that he could see and wanted to see. I held his gaze whenever he did that, and he would smile at me. All through this, not a word or a note that he sang was amiss as he serenaded along to a tune that he himself had created. A song, that I realised, sang about a love so pure and beautiful, a love that one had had for a best friend.

A love like ours, like his love had always been, for me.

That moment, I guess, was the peak of our relationship together. We’ve been together for five years now, and we’ve had so many ups and downs as well. So many peak moments, so many changes taking place within a shortest span of time. After all of that, however, it was our love that had never changed. And the reason for that, I knew was because we started out as best friends of twenty years. We knew each other so well, and we loved and accepted each other despite everything. With each and every day, we’ve just grown closer, become stronger; and the peak of it all had to be this moment, when he’d composed a song for me, singing out his love for me on his first ever concert to the entire congregation. There was the whole orchestra playing the music for him as the choir harmonised in the background. Throughout it all, Sung Gyu’s deep, stable voice stood out the most. I already knew just how talented he was, with all the capabilities that he had, just how well he could shine amongst anyone. But his talents didn’t seem to have a limit, and he never failed to surprise me with what more he could give. And tonight, for the first time in my life, I was seeing the ultimatum of all his strengths put together, a surprising combination, an unexpected reveal of the truth.

As the song ended, I had cried so hard that my face was damp and my father had to hand over his handkerchief to me, tutting under his breath. He must have thought this was ridiculous, but he still understood how Sung Gyu and I were. At the end of the performance, the entire crowd cheered so loud that it went beyond the simple clap-and-move-on routine that they had before. Sung Gyu was beaming as he looked around, and the conductor, the entire orchestra, the backing choir for him, all of them clapped together. To where I was, I could see the tears in his eyes. Sung Gyu was crying himself. As the cheers died down and as my tears dried up, Sung Gyu tapped on the mic once more, beckoning everyone’s utmost attention.

“This, tonight, can’t possibly end here” He announced, earning yet another round or perplexed gasps. I stared at him, astounded. What on earth did he have up his sleeve? I didn’t suppose that anybody who came here for the concert tonight had expected this turn of events.

“Saera” He called all of a sudden, taking me by surprise. I came to a standstill; so, did the entire audience. Then he took the mic off the stand with such an intensity, his face grave and giving nothing away. As the entire audience remained absolutely quiet, curious of what more the sudden turn of even could have, Sung Gyu took the small steps down the stage towards me. The entire audience gasped, and the world had started to spin around me. I could see him approaching as I remained frozen to my seat, and behind me, I could hear a girl gasp in excitement; “I think he’s going to propose!”

Time stilled for a moment, and Sung Gyu crouched down before me, taking my hands in his. Then with the mic held to his mouth with one hand, with his eyes never moving away from mine, he worded it out to me, stark and clear;

“Yoon Saera. Although I’d taken so long, it would never be too late for this”

A pause as we all held our breath.

“Will you marry me?”

A few months after Sung Gyu and I started going out, we decided to move in together. Our parents wanted us to get married first; they wanted us to have that discussion, make possible arrangements and then consider moving in, but both our jobs and lack of time didn’t allow that time and luxury. Sung Gyu soon had to go abroad for his training for his Orchestral conducting, and with my change of jobs from the embassy to the foreign ministry, things just got a bit too complex. I had to move in only because my lease on the flat ran out and moving in with my parents was not an option for me. As Sung Gyu went to Scotland for his training, we had to postpone a possible marriage even further. He returned a year and a half later, trained and prepared, the dream of starting his own orchestra in hand. What with the difficulty of putting it together, the possible marriage plans had to be pushed back even further. It never really affected us; we still loved dearly, we still lived together as well as any married couple would. I loved him no matter what reason came between our marriage. We both had it in mind, but never the time or the possibility to put it forth between us. Two years into it, then, something even more unexpected happened to come about which made a possible wedding even more difficult to go about under the circumstances. The times were getting difficult, the familial and social pressure even more. We had our marriage registered as we had unavoidable circumstances. Legally married but no wedding celebration, we pulled forwards over what could have been a couple of most difficult hurdles of our lives. At the back of our minds, a wedding ceremony still remained. Sung Gyu knew that I was unhappy that I missed my chance of a beautiful wedding. He knew that I wanted it although I’d never brought it up to him. Not that I particularly loved weddings, but because, for all the right reasons, weddings held a special significance for the both of us.

And that was the reason why, although we were married, he had asked me to marry him, yet again, in front of everyone. And that was also the reason why, although we were married, I had to tell him in front of everyone, yet again-,

“Yes, yes I will” I threw my arms around him and held him close. As his hands rested tightly around my waist, I had the chance to whisper into his ear; “We’re already married, dummy”

He chuckled and gently caressed my back in response. “I knew you would love it”

I wouldn’t admit it to him in words, no. but he was right. I truly did.

“How did it go?” My mother exclaimed as we approached her outside the hall, her voice echoing throughout and bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe we missed it” Sung Gyu’s mother added, mock accusingly although she had a proud smile across her lips.

“You’ve heard enough of me already, Omma” Sung Gyu replied as he extricated himself from me, approaching his mother in quick steps. I knew what he was especially so excited about, the excitement was mutual, and the exhilarated little sounds echoed throughout the vast hall.

“Ah Sung Jae-ah!” Sung Gyu exclaimed in this adorable way that he always did, his arms held out, and Sung Gyu’s mother passed our baby son into his arms. Sung Jae was equally excited to see his daddy, and he was blabbering loudly and unstoppably about something that he’d seen, his doe eyes widened, hand clutching onto Sung Gyu’s shirt. Sung Gyu held him close and kissed him on his dark tuft of hair “You know what, sweetheart? Mummy and daddy are finally getting married!” He told him, although I knew that it was our mothers that he was talking to but was too embarrassed to address them himself. Somethings about Sung Gyu never seemed to change.

“Omona!” My mother clutched onto my hand. “Again?”

Sung Gyu’s mother chuckled as Sung Gyu held our baby against his waist. Sung Jae was the absolute mirror image of his father. The same almond eyes, the same fluffy cheeks and even his first two front teeth were the same, bucked in the middle like two opening doors; a beautifully haunting resemblance. Sung Gyu’s mother even said that he was the exact same as baby Sung Gyu so many years ago. And I had to say that the Sung Gyu now would sometimes show the tendencies himself.

“Finally, we’re getting the long-awaited wedding then” Said Sung Gyu’s mother as she gently fixed Sung Jae’s hair. Sung jae seemed to understand her, her affection and the sense of her words. He responded to her, blabbering something loudly in his baby words, and when everyone started laughing, he just got embarrassed, put his little arms around his father’s neck and buried his face against him.

“Aw, my baby...” Sung Gyu cooed, kissing him on his head, his eyes so brilliant, a smile perpetually on his lips. There were so many things that Sung Gyu was so happy about. There was his job, his family and me. But what made him the happiest in his life was nothing else but his little baby boy.

When we first found out that I was pregnant, Sung Gyu was in the middle of his preparations for the orchestra. Everyone’s idea was that we had the wedding first and left the orchestra aside, focusing on the family first; but I had seen how hard Sung Gyu worked for this, day and night without a breath or a sleep. He’d be devastated would we put it aside; and the worst thing was that he’d never tell me that, he’d never let it on and suffer quietly on his own. I knew it was going to be difficult for me, that I had to perhaps put my own dreams aside. I’d told him that evening, after all the excitement of a pregnancy flittered away and reality settled in, that a wedding can wait, that it wasn’t important, but for the baby’s sake, we had to register. And that’s what we did. A wedding was not important, although we thought we’d get around to it before the baby arrived. But I had a few complications during the pregnancy that it never came about as well. When little Sung Jae was first born, we both couldn’t be happier. We had so many hopes and dreams for him, we both still do; and in the warm little nestle of our love, of our home, baby Sung Jae grew and nurtured, and so did Sung Gyu’s dreams, then mine. It was just like how the choir and orchestra worked together, how the elements connected and played together in perfect harmony. Its how we built our lives together. And now, it was time for the final performance.

“When would it be?” asked my mother, already getting into the mood of planning things.

“I haven’t thought of it yet” Sung Gyu replied, one of his fingers being wrapped around by Sung Jae’s stubby little hand. Sung Jae was trying to put it in his mouth, which Sung Gyu was not allowing him to, with a gentle tug. Sung Jae was almost two years old now. He was growing up fast, and as he was teething, the best of his interest as of now was putting anything and everything that caught his eyes, in his mouth, which, of course, was not in the best of our interest.

“Well, its almost spring, the cherry blossom season is around the corner” reminded his mother, raising her brows at me. It didn’t take long for me it to occur to me. Yes, oh god, it made perfect sense!

Sung Gyu looked over at me, looking a little perplexed. He was so ridiculously clueless. He literally didn’t get what his mother was actually hinting at, and that had me laughing.

Sung Gyu narrowed his eyes. “Am I missing something here?”

I approached him, held out my hands towards him and he naturally passed the baby into my arms. “You, Kim Sung Gyu are absolutely clueless” I told him.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed here” He pouted, and I laughed, so did Sung Jae as if he understood anything we said. Then I pressed a hand onto his cheek.

“How do you marry a girl on your birthday without her stealing the show?”

It took a long time for the truth to dawn upon him, and then he made that cute sound of surprise. Sung Jae did that too, and we were all indescribably contented. Our story was coming to a new chapter in our lives, just like that. And to celebrate this new turn, this new change, we all went out together and had all the cake we wanted. After all, its’s what which had brought us together. Sung Gyu placed a slice of cake on the table before me as Sung Jae sat in my lap that evening, and then, much to my surprise, a folded lavender card, and my breath hitched in my throat.

“Hm? What?” I glanced up at him, my hand reaching for his resting on my shoulder.

But before even I could respond to him, he’d surreptitiously kissed me on my neck, his lips lingering warmly on my skin and soon was gone on his way. I looked down at our son, the exact miniature version of him in my arms with a lump of frosting in his hand and felt an intense wave of contentment within me. It was strange really. A slice of cake and a message had taken us such a long way. With a smile, then, I reached for this last message that he’d left for me with a cake, just the way we started.

* * *

Author's note.

Hello, if you were a reader. I didn't expect anyone to read this, i didn't expect anyone to come to this point; but if you have, Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I was losing confidence in my writing as I was losing my readers, one by one; I kept asking myself, was i doing something wrong? How was I going to make things right again? how am I going to make people love my writing again? These were the questions that held me down for a long time. I wrote this story within a wek in between work on my office computer, trying not to be seen by my boss. So there were a few mistakes that i couldn't catch even with my extensive proof reading. But then I thought, that was fine. There would be only a few readers, or even, nobody at all. I feel sad in a way, but then again; we're all growing up, and somewhere between crying over our idols and stepping into the reality of life, we have all grown out of what we used to be. I don't blame anyone, and I would like to humbly accept this change in my life, and I would move on. But that doesn't stop me from writing fan fiction. Sung Gyu had been my inspiration for seven years, and he would be for even longer. There would be so many things I would move on from, but Sung Gyu won't be one of them. That doens't mean everyone should do the same.

On the other hand, as a Sri Lankan, this is a very difficult time for me. For days, we've been sleepless, fearing for our lives, for an uncertain future ahead. Nobody knows what's happening, who to trust and what to believe in; we're walking on eggshells, daily the pain of losing so many of our people burning in our hearts. We're people of affection; we've always been. Its painful to see Sri Lanka and my people through the western eyes as cruel and hostile towards different religions and ethnicities. We aren't. Truly. We understand how it feels like to be a minority, as we are one against the whole world. We understand how it feels like to be in war. We want peace again. We want our happiness back. We've welcomed you, time and time again. And we still would, with the blessing of our gods and loved ones that we'd lost. We forgive you.

It is with this pain that I've simply given the remaining two chapters at once. I apologise if they are not good enough. I am sorry if I disappoint you. I tried.

Until/If I see you again,

Love,
Achini.