US

i. Us;

1 of 3

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Have you ever felt like you’re sinking? Like there's a stupid big black hole inside you and it's absorbing you slowly. All of you.

 

 

 

 

Imagine dementors. Imagine them inside you in your very core you whole and raw inside out. Your happiness, your dreams, your hopes, your soul. It's worse than that, I was shrinking to the hollowness inside me the worst I can remember as I watch the dot of the white van disappear from the view. It's not even raining, no thunderstorms either, not even a breeze greets me and it seems unfair because I was a wreck and the night was still and bright as it normally was.
 

 

 

I was alone and barefooted in front of a store with blinking bright neon pink l.e.d lights. Juxtaposed to the grandeur and the lights and the fake exuberance exalted by the people around me. I just stood there, wet from all the tears and pale. Definitely pale, they probably didn't recognize me or they probably didn't care. I'm glad they didn't, I wish she does though.

 

 

 

With a hole in my chest, I dragged myself away from the streets, no use for catching unnecessary and unwanted attention. I was definitely staggering. Each step felt like I'm leaving crumbles of my soul in the pavement, on threshold, in front of the circular marble counter, on the suffocating elevator. I didn't even realize I was at my place, not until her scent teases my nostrils.

 

 

 

I sprinted for its source like a rabid chasing for food, tripping on my dirty feet, hitting my shin and toppling over because of the wool rag along the way. I kept on moving until I was standing in the threshold of my bedroom. It's everywhere, her smell, the remnants of her warmth, like a ghost haunting me of what has been and what could have been. Everything was blurry and I have to forcefully clear my view with my knuckles.

 

 

The first thing I notice was her favorite plushie lying face down in the corner. It looks abandoned like me. I reached for it, fingers trembling as my teeth chatters loudly. I was crying again, I didn't even know I was if not for the soft surface that was starting to get wet and the hiccup that escaped one after another.

 

 

 

 

 

It just won’t stop.

 

 

 

My head dropped low until it’s pressed hard on the bread stuff toy. Breathing all that was left of her in. Her sighs and tears on the same softness I was cradling. We stayed in the corner until it's time to start another day for Amber Liu, for shake that brass, for the servant who was freed but who doesn’t want freedom if it meant losing her. At least I'm not alone in the cold bedroom. Me and Mr. Bread remained unmoving ‘till it’s necessary.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

I remembered everything, every single detail, that shy crooked smile I grew to love so much (that I whined at her for a week when her dentist made it more attractive to the society's standards) her thin arms, the light on her eyes and the slight curve in her eyebrows whenever she hears me stuttering in my broken Korean before switching to a hurriedly uttered lost English.

 

 

 

Most of the people are kind, but not everyone really genuinely tried to make it less horrifying and scarring to be honest. For all the politeness and greatness of people in this foreign land, they can be harsh. Too harsh for a lost dreamy weird girl who only brought fake courage and all smiles, thankfully Krystal was there and it felt like everything will be alright.

 

 

 

Krystal thought I was boy when she saw me at the corridor, she said with a nervous laugh. It was the first conversation we had and I've committed it to memory the pitch of her voice and the fidgeting of her hands, and the curiosity on her face, how each syllable that left her lips gave out a sense of home, if that makes sense. I try shrug it off as normal that day, the implications and the awkwardness because I was taken aback by her beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

I've travelled a thousand miles to try to prove myself and follow my dreams but I didn't expect to meet Krystal. I've seen some of the most beautiful girls in the standards of this generation, but nothing compared, nothing will ever compare in my eyes.

 

 

 

It's not even the fact that she has a hook nose and cat shaped eyes. They say it was ordinary in this place and her cheek bones too. I won't argue with that, but it's her entirety that has captivated me. The way she stood, and the simple shirt she wore. The unique gracefulness in her movements. I was immediately mesmerized and I felt really stupid as I stood beside her nervously balancing on the balls of my right foot.

 

 

I was more often than not looking down that day, and I've noted her worn out converse shoes. I’ve always noted the kicks she wore since then and deducted that she loved sneakers, and I love her for loving sneakers even though I rarely wear one. I was just pathetically attracted to her since day one in other words.

 

 

 

We didn't become close instantly. I didn't expect us to be. She was quite popular even though her aura was really something. It can be intimidating but I’ve learn how to see through the nerve-wracking coldness, it was like submerging through a waterfall. She was definitely more enticing when you look closer and took something akin nose dive without emerging for air. It all came naturally when we broke the awkward barrier and looked pass the intimidating. We we’re on the same band after all.

 

 

 

 

We talked a lot about almost every trivial thing I can think of and I’ve never been happier since I step foot on the Korean soils. Everyday became less tedious because every day means knowing more about her, no matter how many neurons I kill just to have a little progress in my Hangul and no matter how homesick and lost I felt because I can’t understand what the people around me are saying most of the time. I survived, with her, because of her.

 

 

 

The first personal detail I found out about her is that she's a mommy's girl, she will try to deny it but we both know she is and I fell in love with her for the first time when I saw how much she loves her mother. It made me miss my mom more,
but it made me smile too.

 

 

 

They say she was a hard on, some toned it down to uptight or cold, I heard know it all from others but I can't know for sure, my Korean is not really improving that much and I was busy ogling at her as she pepper her mom with kisses when she gets home from school or training. It was adorable and sweet, not the cold or uptight or -y. I was petty when I was young I wanted to retaliate, hurt the ones who ever thought of those stupid things, but we were all still teenagers, naive and envious, oblivious to lots of things.

 

 

 

 

How I wish I was really that clueless of my quickening heartbeat and stupid whipped smile. It was horrifying to me, especially because my stupid whipped smile never faded when it came to her. She rarely stayed with us, but every minute she did made me feel like I was digging my own grave, because I know I was about to make the worst mistake I can ever possibly commit. She is the Krystal Jung for crying out loud.

 

 

 

 

uality was the least of my problems if I dared, but you don't dare in this kind of things I realized later. It's inevitable, and the first time became almost every week, then every day and every moment. I was growing too fond of the idea of being in love with her and it almost made me explode, although ironically she's the one that held me in one piece.

 

 

 

Krystal became my home, the familiar face in the crowd, the one who was patient in her own way to keep up with my ever failing Korean lessons. I’ve gained friends, fakes and reals but there was Soojung shouting at me and making me buy her things in turn taking care of me like the younger sister I never had and doing stupid things with me even though she thinks it’s absurd.

 

 

 

It was a trifling experience, a free fall that never ends and I was not just surviving anymore, finally the dreams were visible and I was enjoying trying to reach it.The best and the worst thing of all it was that she was aware of my attraction to girls and she’s cool with it. She even set me up with some of her friends. It was a nightmare because even her friends knew and I was out of excuses.

 

 

 

 

Maybe it was the way I look at her or the way I don't want her to get hurt or tired or upset. It became reflexes like my senses were suddenly reprogrammed to never let her feel uncomfortable as much as possible. It was rewarding and terrifying at the same time, because I woke up one day and I'm sure I love her and I'm in love her like how I know I wanted to pee when I needed too, or how I know I should be breathing without even consciously doing it, because I'd die if I won't.

 

 

 

 

How I wish it didn't became natural as breathing or peeing because when I was forced to get back to LA, it felt like everything came crashing down like a huge avalanched. Burying me in self-pity and helplessness. I was a terrible mess and it made me depressed even if it the nauseating homesick feel have finally stopped. I was home in LA but it’s the saddest I’ve ever been. I felt hollow.

 

 

 

 

 

It took time but somehow I knew I have to try surviving, that the next morning I’ll wake, I’ll be back even if I don’t know when that next morning will be. It was faith, maybe blind, but it is, I even inked it on my skin to never forget. It’s a no getting back part of my life.

 

 

 

 

A four way cross road. They say I’m still young, I can still get back to studying, or I can follow a different path, but I choose the path where she’ll be. I know it’s the foggiest and the most painful for me but I was eighteen and entitled to do foolish decisions, I was back as soon as I can.

 

 

 

Things have changed.

 

 

 

 

She was more beautiful than I have always dreamed of at night, and frailer. Her body just always seem to disagree with the amount of passion she exudes with the things she loves to do. It was almost unfair but it was irrelevant at that moment because before I was able to put down my stuff and examine her closer she leaped in my arms like a kid.

 

 

 

 

I remembered the feel of our reunion embrace so well. We we’re both skinnier and weary, but it felt familiar, soothing. On that moment all the sadness and emptiness I’ve kept left me as her scent enveloped us, the smell of the sun mixed with the dusty AC on her hair, and the sweat from the rigorous dance practice, even the soda that stained her shirt cling on to us and that unique scent that is definitely Krystal.

 

 

 

She was whining for food in my ears and for that sneakers I promised her before I left. I was shuddering from the feel of her warm breath that was fanning my skin. Her voice was shakier than usual and I could feel her trembling slightly. The syllables vibrating with the quick gush of English. She was almost stuttering but I let her drawl on and on silently indulging of having her close again.

 

 

 

Her arms were locked on my neck as she stepped heavily on my foot and it stung a little but I knew I choose the right path. It took Victoria unnie and Luna together to pry the kid Jung off of me and it was not the only time it happened. Something really has changed.

 

 

 

The jealousy hinted it I think, or perhaps it’s the clingy which amused even her sister. Suddenly we were going on circles and we were spinning too hard, I have to hold on to her to keep her from falling, although she did fall and I was the happiest weird girl in the busy streets of gangnam.

 

 

 

It happened in an influx, we we’re bantering about the color of the shoes I’ll wear in a performanc, because the cordi gave me the freedom to choose, which was a very rare occurrence. I consulted Krystal like I always do which resulted into a very long childish banter about the pros and cons of the color red. She loves red, I love her and red in turn but the red shoes were really not suitable to my taste, the style I mean so it went on.

 

 

 

We we’re both on comfty clothes and my snapbacks. I remembered her using the aegyo she hates so much to win the argument in the end and she looked like she’ll get sick any minute so we we’re laughing too hard for her standard of acceptable behavior in public but she was fine with it. Then we stopped laughing because I blurted out that she’s beautiful in broad daylight straight English in a place anyone can hear.

 

 

 

In all honesty she is in her makeup less face and puffy cheeks due to all the junk food we have consumed. It was not the first but it’s the first time she reacted differently. The auto-look down with the blush was not what happened, not even the embarrassed cover up laugh. Instead she pulled me in the nearest door which happened to be the Starbucks.

 

 

 

We we’re seated face to face in the dimmest corner and we just stared each other silently. Life dragged on within and outside of the coffee shop but we we’re left there in the moment. There was a risk of media exposure of course and crazy fans even strangers who’ll surely be quick to judge when they realize we were both girls, but it didn’t matter.

 

 

 

She held on to my fingers our palms we’re not touching. She looked so unsure of what she’s about to say but she has to say it. Her eyes said it all though, it reflects the fear, astonishment and fondness I never knew I’d see in someone else’s eyes when they look at me. She knew I was flawed and weak and lost but she looked at me like I’m worth something holding on to. It made my heart rise up in my throat pounding loudly, its quickening beats reverberate loudly in the back of my ears, with my pulse joining the unending race.

 

 

My senses went wild but I faked calm, silent. It took almost a few minutes before she was able to form the words. She stole a kiss on my knuckles before she did. It was feather light. It made me blush like a teenage girl. I was speechless, and she was speaking in her articulate endearing English drawl. She isn’t sure about this, she said with a hand gesture in the air, but she’s sure that it’ll get both of us into trouble though she don’t want it to end and she wanted to keep me the way I was, the way we we’re. We should be careful.

 

 

 

 

It was spelled in different words, but that was how I understood it and I just nod at her chewing my lower lip. The word “us” joining my heart and my pulse. I have to force calm and not attract attention. I stole my own kiss to stop the crescendo of thumping to be heard. Her forehead burned my lips but I tried to prolong it the longest that the stolen allowed.

 

 

 

 

I must be crazy when I nod in agreement, but the patterns of insanity and love sickness has been mostly the same. Besides she was smiling the toothy grin I love so much with the sparkle in her eyes, and her thumbs were drawing circles on top of my palm.

 

 

 

 

We didn’t even order anything there, we just walk out, nervous and excited of our newest jive. It was fun at first, we were naturally playful with each other and skinships we’re definitely no biggie because we do it almost every day but the fun eventually get tougher because fan service was required and we have to be very careful how much skinship to let on.

 

 

 

 

I even tend to try to turn my attention to some of my friends on stage to tone it down to what was required of fan service but it mostly resulted to a cold shoulder and/or a strong jab on the shoulder whichever her mood was for the day. The balance was tilting out of proportions and the emotions we kept between each other threatened to burst into a scandal.

 

 

 

 

 

It was not helping that her newest drama with that cute giant guy required a lot of nauseating things. My green eyed monster friend rarely ever make me sleep during those days, but we survived it. We were not together, TOGETHER after all, we were just friends who were terribly attracted to each other to the point that we were almost across the borders of platonic and romantic love.

 

 

 

 

 

It was probably romantic if we’ll just be honest or more appropriately braver like that drunken night in LA. It was out of control and it was almost foggy in my memory. All I can remember was that she kissed me and that tasted a mix of vodka and wine and that her breath reminded me of chocolate mints. It was a frenzy and it left us intoxicated for a few a days until it dawned to us that we were both crossing our drawn boundaries.

 

 

 

She seek her sister’s wise guidance, I ran to my friends, and Jackie even though she thousand miles away. I never knew if our decision to get other people involved helped, but at least someone else knew what’s making us both crazy. We were very careful who to let on the secret though, because it’s definitely complicated and it meant game over if someone as much as say it out loud when we’re not even dating, officially.

 

 

 

 

It remained hanging there. US, to whatever extent we were us, then eccentricities of life caught up on Krystal and I. Realities we can never run from. Our dreams were in line too.

 

 

 

 

We were parted again, this time in our own volition and probably in fate’s will as well. She became really busy, she was barely sleeping. I pretended to be busy, clubbing, partying, and helping my friends in whatever endeavor they have for the day, writing songs at night, and missing her terribly.

 

 

 

 

It was madness for me, it felt like I was a lost foreigner weird girl again. My friends never left me though, and I survived the madness. Barely. The long almost unending exchange of silly stories turns into short one word conversations. It’s not even a secret to fans since it probably became too obvious, and I was losing myself so I took a few more steps away from her but we stayed amiable in front of the camera, as amiable it could possibly be.

 

 

 

 

 

It was forced, it was rehearsed it was utterly painful for me but I have to. She was going through tough times too, I don’t wanna add to the burden, so I kept how we were as it is. Nice and steady as we both pretend to be. Then one day I woke up feeling all blind and hollow and depressed that I don’t wanna get up in bed and pretend anymore.

 

 

 

Suddenly I don’t wanna be stronger, I don’t wanna try harder and get busy or pretend that I don’t care, or that I don’t want to see her or talk to her or any other lies I’ve tried to live with every day in a hope that it’ll come true, so I flipped all the covers and took a bath in hurry.

 

 

 

The security almost didn’t let me pass but one of her friends saw me so they let me in. I looked like a mess and even my snapback was lopsided but I was smiling for real the first time in days because I was watching first-hand how breathtaking Yoon Se Na was.

 

 

 

My palms almost bruised when the scene wrapped up from clapping too hard. I guess my heart will never be as lucky as my palms.

 

 

 

 

They said it’s all in my head, but I felt it. It seeped through the bones, I feel bruised and scarred within, with each word she said to me that day. She acted different, though she was never unkind or unfriendly to me. The words we’re stern, foreign to the ears, she was too polite, too conscious of the word choice. It was almost too much and there was the huge invisible partition that we’ve cultivated for days.

 

 

 

It pained me a lot and made my stomach churn hard, a dark sense of foreboding but I stayed there, showing my support with blood shot eyes and a hand-made banner that means I’m sorry I’m not strong enough for both of us but I’ll always be here.

 

 

 

 

 

I think she understood but she didn’t gave me any reaction that will indicate that she felt the same. I avoided her like a plague after that, feeling all achy and rejected, though the I miss her so so so so … much lost some of it’s so, not that it made much of a difference. The play and pretend stick though, because we both loved f(x) too much, but we we’re never the same. Not the same share of words or laughter for the matter.

 

 

 

Krystal rarely ever laughs those days honestly, it was like a dark cloud kept her away from the world and I can’t break through it. It was frustrating and painful and I would have gave up if the breathing-peeing reality didn’t keep me grounded. Sometimes I wish I just did, because when she collapsed in front of me and the crowd I almost lost my mind.

 

 

 

 

 

It was a few minutes before two in the morning, I can barely keep my eyes open and it felt like my head was being drilled with a jack hammer but I needed to see her. My dad was a little skeptical but he helped me and I almost kissed his toes. She looked like the frail kid I embraced centuries ago, the one that smelt like sun and sweat and mountain dew.

 

 

 

 

I was almost mad at the people who were supposed to take care of her but I didn’t have the energy to get angry at them. I held onto her instead, brushing her sweat, applying balm on her chapped lips. Her eyelids were fluttering slowly before she called for me in a broken voice and I cried silently because it was my fault even if it isn’t.

 

 

 

 

I wonder how she knew it was me but I didn’t ask, I cradled her palm on my cheek instead. Her bed covers were getting wet and I felt pathetic like how I have always been because she was the one who’s sick and I’m the one she’s comforting.
 

 

 

 

Her voice sounded hoarse but she tried to calm me down. She can barely lift a finger but she tried reaching for the back of my head. Applying soft pressures just above my neck. Her fingers we’re always gentle, I could still feel it on the locks of my hair and it was like magic. I was breathing heavily but the tears has stopped flowing.

 

 

 

 

 

She was really pale and she was smiling her toothless smile. Neither of us speak, we just smiled stupidly at each other setting aside the teasing for next time. I sang her to sleep that day, no complaints from both of us. It almost made me laugh out loud because it felt too cheesy even to me, but that’s not how I feel at that moment.

 

 

 

It just felt like I’ll do anything for her and I did. I waited until she fell asleep before slipping back to the hotel with my dad utterly drained.

 

 

 

 

When we met again, the semblance of normal was there. We’re back to the playful clingy borderline not platonic anymore but supposedly platonic interactions. At least the walls we’ve made have slowly melted, and it was a great relief I was finally able to sleep dreamlessly again.

 

 

 

 

 

I even revisited her on the last day of her drama shoot and she was definitely warmer. We we’re finally back to the solid ground. She even opened up more about the whole Jessica and her other sister’s ordeal. It was a mess and it that she got dragged with it, but I refrain from steering our conversations to that most of the time.

 

 

 

 

It just made her sad, I hate it but I felt honored that she trust me that much to let me know those things. It was overwhelming, and beguiling. I was happy beyond question though our relationship remained unlabelled like how it has always been.

 

 

Then as if it was a calm before a storm, a freaking thunderstorm, the sense of ease shattered into little irreparable pieces, we failed to keep the communication open again and our unlabeled was hauled in a train wreck as a result. She was seen with the giant cute guy and was apparently hooking up with that oppa pretty boy (TOP).

 

 

 

 

Rumors like that have been a generally occurring thing in years, but the oppa pretty boy one didn’t really make it to the headlines, which made it suspicious. I was jealous and hurt and definitely petty. It was not intended to come out like how it did but the damage has been done when the other half caption became a buzz like a childish retort.

 

 

 

 

 

I should’ve known better, but I didn’t and for the first time in years I’ve seen her cry like something inside her was dying. It was loud, unapologetic angry tears. You broke my heart she said. You knew me she added. Then I was crying with her, but no matter how hard I cried, the bridge has been burned.

 

 

 

 

 

She flinched when I reached for her, I didn’t try again for the third time, because I’m stupid like that.

 

 

 

 

 

When I came to my senses, she was gone, no explanation made her understand reason which was almost close to impossible because we were miles apart again. How I wish we weren’t but we are and there’s barely anything else I can do except to call her and she answered the phone, at least she does, but she didn’t speak.
 

 

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