White Blood

Now Playing

"I'm ready to hope, swing me out of the low,

Wide awake in the glow, can't do it alone,

I'm ready to fly, uncover the light,

Impossible heights."

She thought about it all day on Sunday. She did not know why she thought about it, only that she did. And in great detail. Sat by the window of her apartment with a notepad in front of her and pencil in one hand, the rubber end chewed down to a nub. A strange and frankly disgusting habit of hers. The day outside swam with pale light and it was cold and she could see the wind in the way it threw about the trash and the leaves. The people two floors down looked like matchstick people. On the page of her notepad were scribbles and doodles and occasional sentences of mild poetry that came to her but nothing substantial. Only thoughts of Wendy.

First and perhaps embarrassingly it was the instinctual part of her brain. The one that reminded her how good she looked in that blue cardigan and with her blonde hair and how very right she looked with that guitar neatly in her lap strumming away at her songs. Then it was her voice. The jazz on cold autumn nights. Coffee house blues. Everything good and warm and right. It was a voice that felt like home. Then and unceremoniously it was whatever had occurred last night. She thought on this for a long time.

Did something happen to her? Did something happen backstage? Was she even going to perform or was she just lying to me? Did I get the address wrong? Did she stand me up? Could she have stood me up? Was it even anything like that at all? Was she just being nice? Was she trying to get me to go away?

The questions came and did not stop. Sat there with a thermos of coffee simmering mutely on the old wood table under the lone window of her apartment. Nothing made any sound save her clock. Scribbling out poor rhymes in odd metres and crossing them out and going over them again and attempting to erase it with whatever part of it she had not previously chewed and failing. Thinking: Wendy Wendy Wendy. What have you done to me?

After a while she called Yeri. The first time there was no answer. On the second ring she picked up and said, ‘Hey.’

‘Just wondered if you were doing anything today.’

‘No. I told you that yesterday. Why?’

‘No reason,’ Joohyun said. ‘I thought maybe we could meet. I’m bored.’

‘Nice to know I’m the person you turn to when you wanna amuse yourself for a bit. But I’m bored, too. So, yeah. How did last night go?’

‘What?’

‘Your date.’

‘It wasn’t a—’

‘Well?’

A long silence. In truth she didn’t quite know what to say that would sound both appropriate and honest. So she said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean you don’t know? Did you talk to her?’

‘She wasn’t there. She never performed.’

‘Well.’

‘Yeah. Well.’

‘Well that’s pretty , isn’t it?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Sorry,’ Yeri said. ‘I mean, yeah. Why would she ask you to go along and then just not show up? Was she lying to you? I mean, was she there in person, but just didn’t sing? Or what?’

‘I never saw her. She said she was going to be performing at seven thirty and I stayed until nearly nine. And she never showed up. So.’

‘Damn. for you. I mean it, really.’

‘It is what it is,’ Joohyun said, as if trying to convince herself. She doodled something idly and crossed a line through it and set the pencil down and rubbed her eyes with a sigh. ‘I need to get out of the house,’ she said.

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘You fancy a drink or something?’

‘Sure. Can do. Where?’

‘Anywhere. I don’t mind. Just nowhere with loud music. You know I hate loud music.’

‘Because you’re old and boring,’ Yeri said.

‘Yeah. Something like that. Thanks.’

‘Any time. I was on my way shopping. I could come and grab you on the way back and we could go get drinks or something?’

‘Yeah, sure. Whatever.’

‘Alright. See you soon.’

‘Yeah,’ Joohyun said. She let the phone go dead. Still the incessant ticking of the clock like a heartbeat, or a countdown. Still Wendy in her head. She picked up her pencil and wrote whatever came to her and crossed it out and wrote it again on the next page. A book full of miscellanea. Many more like it in her desk drawers. The truth was there wasn’t much she hadn’t already written. Half her books were in English and half in Korean, dating all the way back to her days at university, yellowed and fraying at the edges. She didn’t know why she kept them. The truth was that in some painful and masochistic way they reminded her of all the times she had been rejected, all the failures of her life. Told that she wasn’t quite good enough. Three years of university and thousands of hours and for what? For “Better luck next time.” For “Please allow three months before you apply again.”

She had a little cork noticeboard hanging on the wall just past the end of her bed and pinned to this noticeboard was a comprehensive collection of all those rejection letters. And there had been many. So many that she had long given up on the idea of becoming a writer at all. Novels, short stories, poetry, journalism – it was all the same, because she wasn’t good enough for any of it.

She folded shut the notepad and checked the time with a sigh. When she showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes half an hour later she was still thinking about Wendy.

It wasn’t until she was already in the bathroom did she think about what she was doing said about the state her life was in. But rational thought was not something that came all that often to Wendy anymore. Working up the courage to even leave her apartment had taken all day Sunday and a good half-dozen messages of support from Seulgi and a long look in the mirror. At what remained there. What it showed.

She set her Starbucks cup down beside the sink and trained herself to catch her breath and stop her hands from shaking. Outside the day had already dimmed away. It was almost five in the evening. There was nobody else in the bathroom. Nothing to see her. So after a moment of bitter reflection she took out a small glass bottle of vodka from her cardigan pocket and peeled off the lid of the coffee, still half full, and topped it up with vodka. Until the vodka bottle was empty. Then she pushed the lid back on and tossed the empty vodka bottle in the trash and swished the cup about and drank with a wince.

It tasted about as vile as she had expected. Maybe it would be enough to get her drunk and make a fool of herself but maybe not. The truth was her anxiety was never as bad when drunk, and perhaps that was partly why nobody ever seemed to believe her outside of Seulgi and her immediate family. Because most of her social interactions consisted of people seeing her drunk at parties and get-togethers, swaying and laughing. Being the clown of the group. It was her self-imposed duty to make them laugh. To give the happiness to others that she could only very rarely find within herself. Usually reserved for when she was singing.

A second sip and a third tasted no better. Her right hand was trembling so much she could barely hold the cup straight. In the mirror she looked fine. That in and of itself was a problem, because it only served to remind her that what was wrong with her was not surface level or even close. It existed far below and out of sight. She thought briefly about ringing Seulgi and asking her for advice. Instead she took another sip of the drink and fought back the urge to vomit in the sink and went on out across Noon Square toward Coffee King.

She saw Joohyun serving from behind the counter before Joohyun saw her. Part of her thought it best to turn and walk away and go home. Nobody was watching her but she looked about anyway. The enormity of the mall atrium felt painfully small around her, the walls constricting, the evening darker in shade. She held a hand over and smelt her breath and put on a pleasant smile and went on through to queue. When Joohyun saw her she stopped. She looked as if she had been not expecting to ever see Wendy again.

‘Hey,’ Wendy said, waving awkwardly.

‘Hi.’ Joohyun just stood there. There existed between them a tension neither could properly classify. She said softly, ‘Sorry. Did you want something to drink?’

Wendy held up the Starbucks cup. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Got one on the way.’

‘Right.’

‘Are you free at all?’

Joohyun glanced about. Save for a handful of people she’d already served it was mostly quiet. She looked as if she wanted to do something she wasn’t allowed to do. ‘Give me five minutes,’ she said.

Wendy sat on the right of the room. So that nobody outside could see her. She sipped her drink and burnt in a bitter and awful blend of black coffee and vodka. Her hands were shaking again. It was a habit of hers to ball her fists with her thumbs inward whenever she felt as if the world were slipping away from her and this was no different. Clenching and unclenching, steadying her breathing. The room was spinning. Five minutes later Joohyun came out and pulled her apron off over her head and smiled gently at her.

‘Hey,’ she said.

‘Hi.’

‘Nice to see you buying from our competitors.’

Wendy laughed softly. Her hands moved to the cup and away again. Clenching, unclenching. Balled fists. She said, ‘I’m really sorry about Saturday night. Really sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Joohyun said.

‘I should have been there. I was planning on performing there. I wasn’t, like, lying to you or anything. It’s just…’

Joohyun studied her silently across the table.

‘Sorry,’ Wendy murmured.

‘It’s okay. Really.’

‘How long did you wait?’

‘About an hour and a half.’

‘. I’m so sorry. I should’ve just said something. Like I said, I really was going to perform.’

‘It’s fine, honestly. I understand.’

Wendy glanced down at her cup. The silence was enormous in her ears and it hurt to sit there unsure of what to do with herself. She picked up the cup and drank a good mouthful of it and said, ‘Can I make it up to you sometime? I feel like I owe you a drink or something, for not being there on Saturday. For wasting your time.’

‘Sure,’ Joohyun said.

‘You look like you don’t want to say yes. Like you just want me to go away.’

‘I don’t mean that at all. I’m just hungover, honestly.’

Wendy had to fight back a laugh. ‘Hungover?’ she said. ‘You went out on a Sunday night?’

‘Blame Yeri for that.’

‘Who’s Yeri?’

‘Oh. She’s the one behind the counter there.’

Wendy looked at her in amusement and looked back at Joohyun. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Fun night?’

‘Not really. I’m too old for this.’

‘I know the feeling. Once I hit twenty-four, I was like, no thanks.’

Joohyun giggled. It was a strange sort of laugh that Wendy enjoyed a great deal, very much at odds with the way she talked. When she spoke it was a soft and placid sort of lilt, almost a reserved a coldness to her, but her laugh was sudden and goofy and full of teeth and it changed the shape of her whole face. Wendy nudged her cup aside. She never realised her hands had stopped jittering altogether. ‘Are you free tomorrow night?’ she asked.

The answer was achingly long in coming. Joohyun seemed to toy with the idea of this. Then she shifted in her chair a slight and said, ‘Yeah I am. I finish work around seven.’

‘Okay, cool. Did you want to, like, grab a meal or something? Or anything. I don’t mind.’

‘Sure. We can do that. Where?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t think that far ahead.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘In Chungjeong,’ said Wendy.

‘Oh, cool.’

‘What about you?’

‘Literally, like, ten minutes from her. It’s just around the corner.’

Wendy nodded at nothing. Whatever was correct to say next eluded her.

‘We could find somewhere that does takeout or something,’ Joohyun said. ‘If that’s what you wanted.’

‘Sure. Sorry. I’m not good at organising things.’

‘Me neither. Well, not often at least.’

‘I don’t really get out of my apartment all that much.’

‘I know the feeling. How about we just meet here after I’ve finished work or something? And then we can grab the bus.’

‘Sure,’ Wendy said with a smile. ‘That’d be cool.’

It was almost six PM on Tuesday when she decided to read her emails. She didn’t know why. Standing across the street from Noon Square in the low shade watching the glimmer on the glass and reading her phone and rereading it. Two of the emails were from bars she’d sent out her CV and a demo recording to. Both informed her they would like to hire her for a night and laid out their prices and options and times and dates. One on Saturday, one the following Friday.

Wendy spent a long time reading them through. Her fingers felt bitterly cold and her heart was racing and it was a long time until it would calm again. When she stuffed her phone away after replying it was almost half past six. She crossed and went on in through the atrium lobby and toward Coffee King with her hands stuffed into her pockets and her face down. Joohyun saw her from behind the counter and smiled.

‘Hey,’ Wendy said. She took a moment to look about at the rest of the store. ‘Is it usually this quiet?’

‘At this time, yeah. Most people go to the Starbucks around the corner at rush hour. It’s only really super busy on a morning. Which is good, I suppose. Less work.’

Wendy nodded to herself.

‘I won’t be long,’ Joohyun said, smiling again. It was a smile Wendy wished she could see all the time. Warmth and momentary joy, sand in an hourglass. Brushing a stray fallen strand of hair out of her face and picking up a pallet of cups and disappearing into the back. Wendy sat alone in the corner of the room tapping on the table. She had no idea what to do with her hands, or with anything. Setting them in her lap and clenching her fists – thumbs inward – and unclenching them and chewing on her bottom lip. Thinking: Come on, Seungwan. Don’t be like this. Don’t do this now.

But as Joohyun came out it all seemed to seep away. She was dressed in a smart navy buttondown polo and black jeans and her hair was still tied back and she smiled at Wendy and Wendy’s feet were still and her hands unclenched and her breath as it should be. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said.

‘It’s okay,’ said Wendy.

‘Shall we go?’

‘Sure. Where are we going?’

‘I don’t know. Figured we could just walk around and find somewhere later. Sorry. I’m not organised either.’

‘It’s okay,’ Wendy said. ‘I don’t mind.’

The day lay cold and bare. Leaves turned in the thin and receding red light. They walked up along the avenue in quiet and through Myeongdong both ways, walking in circles, passing restaurants of all kinds. For the first time in as long as Wendy could remember all seemed somewhat at peace. As if her universe had at last collapsed in on itself so utterly that truly nothing else did exist, only her and Joohyun and their shared, momentary continuum. She walked with her hands in her pockets and her face down to the ground and it was a long time before she worked up the courage to say, in a voice barely her own, ‘I’m sorry about Saturday night. Really sorry.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘It’s just…I don’t know how to say it. It wasn’t a family emergency or anything like that. Don’t get that idea. I don’t know how to say it. I don’t like saying it.’

‘You don’t have to say anything.’

Wendy glanced at her as they walked. The urge to say everything was great but greater still the urge to remain silent, to partition it all away, fold into her own private world where nothing could touch her or harm her. That’s how it had always been. They stopped under a bus shelter ten minutes up the road and Joohyun turned and nodded to a takeaway joint across the street and said with a smile, ‘You fancy getting pizza or something? Or do you want to go for a proper meal?’

‘No, pizza’s fine.’

They ordered two pizzas and garlic bread and mayo dip and sat on a bench down the end of the avenue with the pizzas beside them like vagrants having recently discovered a bounty of meals. Streetlamps pooled in pale light. Cars passed. Wendy paid none of it any attention. Locked there in her own miniscule universe she had to struggle to fit inside of. Joohyun there with her. They looked at each other and Joohyun looked down at the pizza boxes and the box of garlic bread and laughed, all teeth and glowing eyes. ‘Oh my god,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘This looks so…what’s the word?’

‘Cheap?’

‘Yeah, I guess. But I’m not complaining.’

‘Neither am I. Nothing wrong with it. Sometimes you just need pizza.’

‘Exactly,’ said Joohyun. She took a slice and bit into it with a sort of strangely dainty grace about her. As if afraid the food would disappear did she not treat it with reverence and respect. Wendy had to stifle a laugh. They sat and ate in silence. Four slices later Wendy looked down at the boxes and said, ‘I feel like we should’ve ordered only one. I’m not going to eat a whole pizza. And garlic bread.’

‘Amateur.’

‘Oh, what, so you are?’

‘I’ll eat both,’ Joohyun said through a mouthful of food. ‘And extra.’

‘Sure.’

And as if to prove this she picked up another slice and bit into it and chewed. Wendy watched her. The world seemed quiet and small and lonely. They sat there talking about nothing and the pizza went cold and Joohyun only had another two slices. She wiped with a napkin and said, ‘Do you want to take this home with you? Or can I? Because this is pretty good pizza. Surprising, really.’

‘You can take it. I don’t mind.’

‘Okay, cool.’

The silence again. A weighing of options on both sides. Joohyun shifted a slight on the bank and brushed the hair out of her face and said, ‘So, what do you do?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Like, where do you work? Or anything like that. Or are you a student?’

‘Done with all that,’ Wendy said. She thought about it for a minute. About how to truly answer in a way that didn’t make her feel small and insignificant. And yet there was something about how open and warm and understanding Joohyun seemed even from a distance that made her feel welcomed and accepted. She said, ‘I’m kind of unemployed at the moment. Kind of.’

‘Kind of?’

‘Well, I’ve got these gigs on the side that I’ve been applying for recently. Just singing gigs. I worked at a cyber security firm for about two years before quitting last month. It was good pay. Decent hours. I kind of lucked out into getting in the first place since I knew pretty much nothing about computers beyond the basics, but it turns out cyber security wasn’t anything like I expected it to be.’

‘What did you expect it to be?’

‘I don’t know. Like, counter terrorism stuff? Wait, no. I can’t explain it, but like they do in the movies, you know? But it wasn’t. It was just filling in Excel spreadsheets and printing out data forms to pass around. And lots of time at the watercooler.’

‘Why did you quit?’

Wendy shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, and it was the truth. ‘I never really liked it. I just did it for the money. And like I said, it was good. I saved up a bunch and then one day I decided to cut my losses before it dragged me down any further and I jumped ship. Well, jumped ship to the sea, I suppose. Abandoned ship, more like. And now here I am, hustling for side gigs. And then I get one, and…yeah.’

Joohyun smiled softly at her, hands in her lap. It was a smile that told Wendy she only had to share if she wanted to. That nothing would be forced or coerced and everything was sacred.

‘What about you?’ Wendy said.

‘I’ve been working at Coffee King for about two years, too. It’s not bad. Could be a lot worse, and I’m pretty grateful for that. But yeah. Not really where I expected to be after university.’

‘What did you want to be? Or still want to be?’

‘A writer,’ Joohyun said with a shy shrug. ‘I’ve always wanted to go into writing, of any kind. I did writing at university for that.’

‘Books?’

‘Anything. Mostly poetry. But I’ve never been good enough for it.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘Well,’ Joohyun said. She shrugged again. It was a simple gesture that told Wendy she’d rather remain in her own world of self-doubt and delusion. A world Wendy was already herself accustomed to. Joohyun glanced about and back at her and tilted her head a slight and said, in a rather curious voice, ‘Your name is Wendy.’

‘Uh, yeah.’

‘That’s a pretty out-there name,’ she said in English, without a hint of an accent. Wendy just looked at her. ‘I mean, not that I’m saying anything about it, of course. It’s a pretty name.’

‘You speak English?’

‘Yeah. I wrote your name on that cup in English the other day, remember?’

‘I mean, yeah, but everyone knows the alphabet.’

‘I’ve studied it since I was a kid. Never had, like, formal lessons until I got to college and then university. But I’ve always been huge into reading and writing and my parents had a box of old English classics – Wordsworth, Dickens, Joyce, Steinbeck – that I really wanted to read once I started devouring books. So I basically taught myself, with help from the internet and some study guides my dad bought me and stuff. And then, yeah.’

‘That’s so cool. Your English is amazing. Not to sound patronising or anything.’

‘I don’t mind. It’s still my second language. But I write all my poetry in English. I don’t know why. I just do. Maybe it’s because I grew up reading English poetry and so it stuck with me easier? But I always speak Korean. Weird. What about you?’

Wendy shrugged. ‘I went to school in Canada,’ she said. ‘Learnt it there.’

‘Right. Hence—’

‘The name. Yeah. What about you? Ever decided on an English name?’

‘I’ve never given it much thought. I like Joohyun.’

‘Me too,’ Wendy said.

‘Thanks.’

For a long time they were quiet. A silent shared existence. The pizza long since cold. It was Wendy first to speak. Her hands were trembling again. ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘do you want to come see me perform? I mean it this time. Like, for real. No monkey business.’

‘Sure. When?’

‘This Saturday. Seven PM. It’s at a bar around the corner from my apartment pretty much. Again. But I’ll be there. I promise.’

‘Okay, cool. I’d love to.’

‘Great. Can I…you know.’

‘What?’

‘Get your phone number or something? So I can text you the address? I’ll be honest, I don’t know it myself. Only that’s it near where I live. I applied for it through an online search.’

Joohyun giggled. She waited for Wendy to take out her phone and repeated her phone number twice and said, ‘This Saturday, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I look forward to it.’

‘Me too,’ Wendy said with a smile, not knowing if it was the truth at all.