All We Do

Now Playing

"I've been upside down,

I don't wanna be the right way round,

Can't find paradise on the ground."

The first time that week she saw anybody that wasn’t a sound engineer at the studio down the road from her apartment was when she showed up to the restaurant on Thursday evening to find Seulgi already there. She was sat under the window checking her phone and it wasn’t until Wendy had already sat down did she notice her and look up and smile and say, ‘Hey.’

‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘I’m used to it.’

‘Had a bunch of stuff to do at the studio. I was basically working overtime. Can’t believe I’m actually saying that.’

‘How did it go?’

‘Went well,’ Wendy said. ‘Went really well. I’ve finished the last of the mastering for the seven songs I’ve got. Now it’s just about actually putting it out there. Basically the marketing side of it. And I’ve heard that’s the hardest part when you’re a start-up artist, you know?’

Seulgi nodded with a proud smile. ‘I can’t believe you do it all on your own,’ she said. ‘Singing, writing, producing, mixing, mastering. And it still sounds so good.’

‘Can you imagine me working with anyone else? How would that end up? I’d just freak out all the time. I’d never get anything done. I think even the studio manager’s realised now, because whenever I turn up he’s not there. I don’t know how he would’ve realised it, but yeah. He just lets me do my own thing, as long as I keep it tidy. Which helps, I suppose. Are we ordering?’

‘Sure,’ Seulgi said. They ordered food and a bottle of soju and while they sat waiting for it Wendy said with a solemn sigh, ‘I should’ve had this done months ago. Should’ve finished it before last Christmas. It’s taken me this long to work up the courage to write him an email asking for more studio time. How pathetic does that sound? And I only emailed him because I couldn’t work up the courage to just ring him and ask him over the phone. I just started getting really sweaty and worked up and I hated it.’

‘I know. You’ve told me.’

‘I just wish I’d done it before.’

‘Don’t start regretting things now. I’ve said this before.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘And why does it matter anyway? You’re not in a rush, are you?’

‘No,’ Wendy said. ‘But, I mean, I’ve just turned twenty-six. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time already.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Am I, though? Being stupid.’

‘Yeah. Duh. We’re the same age. You’re gonna make me feel old.’

‘But—’

‘We’re in our twenties, Seungwan. We’ve got so much time ahead of us. Sometimes I think this is a big problem with people – they’re always so impatient. So concerned with the here and now that they don’t stop to think about the bigger picture, about the long term. Sometimes – actually, most of the time – it’s better to take it slow and steady.’

‘You really think?’

‘You know I do.’

Wendy nodded and was quiet. The evening had run a distant pastel and the last of the light seeped away like watercolour at the thin edges of the world. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said after a while. ‘Suppose all I can do now is look ahead of me.’

‘That’s the spirit.’

‘What about you? How’s work?’

‘Work’s fine, as always.’

‘Dancing too?’

‘Haven’t led a class since the last one,’ Seulgi said. ‘But that went well. So, yeah. I guess so.’

Wendy just looked at her. A sort of placid and calm acceptance at her place in the world and that what spelt out for her and what it did not. It was not envy or jealousy that Wendy felt but it was certainly similar. She shifted in her seat and ran a hand through her hair and said, ‘I’ve got a performance tomorrow.’

‘I know. You said.’

‘Still working late at the office?’

‘Sadly,’ Seulgi said. ‘That’s the worst part about this journalism thing – sometimes you’re home by five as normal, sometimes they want you to work an extra five hours to help get things proofread and published on time. But hey, I get double pay for overtime, so I’m not complaining. Well, not too much. But I wish I could come.’

‘Me too. I’m performing next week as well.’

‘Seriously? How many more have you got lined up?’

‘Just the three.’

‘Oh my god,’ Seulgi said with a smile. ‘What time?’

‘Wednesday evening. They said be there for six. It’s a bar in Dangju. Never been before. I just applied to a bunch online and it was one of the first ones I came across. They said they liked my demo and I could do a fifty-minute set. And yes, I’m getting paid for it. I’m getting paid for all of them.’

‘I can do Wednesday,’ Seulgi said. ‘I’ll call it early at work and just get a cab if you give me the address.’

‘Cool,’ said Wendy with a smile. She said no more. In truth there was little more she wanted to say, or knew how to, even with Seulgi. Lingering thoughts of Joohyun, but her reality remained mired and confusing. Almost like an acquaintance in a dream. Their food was brought out fifteen minutes later and as she sat grilling strips of pork and sipping her soup she watched the night outside with a sort of curious introspection. As if might reveal for her some starker truth about herself. But it did not. When they had finished she wiped with a napkin and said, ‘Are you sure you can come along on Wednesday?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘I don’t want you leaving important work or anything just to hear me sing. I don’t think you should do that.’

‘I finish at five anyway,’ Seulgi said dismissively. ‘And it won’t take me an hour to get to Dangju, even in traffic. It’ll be fine. Besides, I haven’t seen you perform properly in, what? Like, half a year. And never in front of other people. Well, not since university.’

‘It won’t be any different. You don’t have to.’

‘I want to.’

‘Okay,’ Wendy said. She smiled again. It was another of her rare and genuine smiles that it seemed only Seulgi and Joohyun could draw out of her, and the immediacy with which she realised this was startling. She had known Seulgi ten years. Joohyun, three weeks.

‘Good luck for tomorrow, by the way.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Wish I could be there.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Wendy said, and said no more.

Perhaps there was something in the way she thought about Wendy all week long. If she sat down for a moment and took the time to collect herself she knew there would certainly be something in it. The way in which Wendy’s gentle encouragement weighed so heavily on her. All it had taken was a small helping of niceties, rare as they had become in her life. When was the last time someone had told her she’d done well, other than Yeri, or outside of work? Occasionally it was Not Good Enough. More often it had been a wretched silence and a forced smile or ignoring her altogether. And it had gone far beyond poetry and writing. It had run through ever facet of her life.

And yet when Wendy showed up just after midday on Friday all she was thinking about, again, was Wendy. She wore a peachcoloured cardigan and her short hair was tied back in the smallest of ponytails at the nape of her neck and she smiled at Joohyun before she even entered the store. Joohyun set the pot to boil as she came in and took a hand out of her pocket to wave awkwardly and say, ‘Hi.’

‘Hey. Wait, let me guess – black coffee, medium?’

‘Sure,’ Wendy said with a giggle.

Joohyun poured out a cup to go and passed it to her and leant against the counter. The store was empty save two guys in the far corner and Wendy just in front of her. It smelt of the richness of the coffeebeans and vaguely of soap.

‘I just came by because I was in the area,’ Wendy said. ‘Just finished up a couple things I had to do and figured I’d say hi.’

‘What things?’

‘Just some final studio session time for my EP.’

‘Your what? You’ve got an EP?’

‘Well, I do now.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Wendy shrugged. Her hands were curiously still. ‘You never asked,’ she said. ‘And I didn’t know if I’d ever get it finished. It’s only seven songs but I’ve been working on it for about a year now, on and off. And I guess this week I finally plucked up the courage and the resolve to go and mix and master it and finish everything up. Now it’s just about, you know…getting it out there to the world.’

‘Apparently that’s the hardest part.’

‘Yeah, that’s what everyone says.’

‘That’s so cool,’ Joohyun said. ‘Seriously. Congratulations.’

‘Thanks.’ A pause. Then, in a soft and hesitant voice, ‘Are you still coming tonight?’

‘Yeah. Of course. What time again?’

‘I’m on stage at seven. So, as long as you get there just before that.’

‘Okay. Cool. It’s literally just up the road from here anyway. Should be fine. I finish at six, so yeah.’

Wendy nodded at nothing. There existed still a sort of untouchable tension between them and Joohyun could sense it as well. Something they were hesitant to approach at any more than a cautionary arm’s length. ‘Do you still fancy going for a meal tonight?’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ said Wendy with a smile. Her fingers fiddled around the cup in her hand as if fighting for purchase.

‘We could go somewhere nice.’

‘You mean, not just get pizza takeout again?’

‘Well, I don’t mind either way.’

‘Okay. Sure.’

‘There’s this place near me that does traditional Chinese food. It’s really good. We could go there.’

‘Whatever,’ said Wendy. She was still smiling. ‘I don’t mind. I should go. Now, I mean. I mean I should go and warm up. Or, like, do something. And stop distracting you. Sorry.’

‘It’s okay. I’d love to talk but I’ve already used up my break.’

‘Already?’

Joohyun nodded meekly. ‘Been here since six this morning,’ she said.

‘Jesus. You serious?’

‘Yeah. I opened up. And then next week I’m working until close every day until Thursday. So that’s until about half past ten.’

‘God, I hate retail.’

‘Yeah, you and me both.’

‘Are you working late on Wednesday?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

Wendy shrugged shyly. ‘No reason,’ she said. ‘I should go. See you tonight.’

‘Yeah,’ said Joohyun. She broke into a grin that was hard to subdue. ‘I look forward to it.’

She showed up just after half past six.

The first thing she did was buy herself a drink at the bar and sit right at the back of the room under the shade of the window and sip at it slowly while she waited. The bar was a good deal nicer than she one she’d sat in a week before listening to Wendy perform. It smelt of oranges and burning candles and the lights were a soft and warm amber and the tables made a sort of dimly lit hall with a stage at the front and a single spotlight. The place was very busy. Joohyun sat and sipped her Martini and waited. There were three empty tables out of perhaps sixteen or twenty. At ten minutes to seven she got up and nudged past the sitting crowd and to the empty table closest to the front and sat with her legs folded waiting again.

There was a sort of nervousness in her heart she had not expected to feel nor could properly explain. Wendy had not seen her watching before. Arrayed in shadow at the back of a bar smokier than this, less light to it. She waited. Nobody seemed to really be paying attention to the empty stage at all. At two minutes past seven Wendy stepped out from behind the back curtain with her guitar in hand and stood and adjusted the microphone. She cleared and tuned something on the neck of the guitar. The room had fallen very quiet. Even the bartenders seemed to have stopped.

Joohyun held her breath. There existed for a moment and only a moment a tranquillity she had not felt in a long time. A calmness at the world and all the things contained within it. Wendy took one glance around the room and saw her and there did her eyes linger for a second too long. She was smiling softly. Then without a word she closed her eyes and began to strum at the guitar and sing in a voice to put the night itself at pause.

She sang three songs in Korean. The last one Joohyun recognised. It was a song her parents enjoyed and the room broke out into a rhythmic clap of encouragement as she strummed and sang with a confidence Joohyun had not seen before. It was strange and intoxicating. Eyes closed, in a world of her own design. Where nothing else could get to her. She looked so at home, Joohyun thought. Born for the stage and yet cursed to be fearful of it. The fourth song was a haunting English blues ballad. She sang:

I woke up to find the earth was round one day,

And all around the world now, things began to change

Never had I ever seen the sun,

Rise that way above the day to greet the dawn

Nothing else in the room made a sound. She tapped on the wooden stage with one foot hard enough to make a staccato drumbeat and with every lyric her face twisted and contorted as if caught in a rictus of pain at the rawness of the words she had chosen to sing. Joohyun held her breath the entire time. She hummed along the chorus and began the second verse and the greater world was utterly silent as she sang:

Yeah, and it’s there you’ll learn what I know,

That all of this world will fade

You gotta learn to let it all go,

Oh, and flow like the river

Flow, flow, flow.

She was finished by eight PM. Joohyun watched with a burning fondness in her eyes like she had never watched anything before. The Martini on the table had not been touched since she’d sat down and only now did she allow herself to breathe and she was clapping before anyone else, leading off the room in applause like a concert composer. Wendy opened her eyes and bowed with a smile. Her lips were quivering. When she looked up at Joohyun she smiled again and took a deep breath and bowed a second time and waved to the crowd and disappeared through the curtain.

For a long time Joohyun just sat there unable to say anything. She thought perhaps she had been a little overzealous. The first thing she said when Wendy came out half an hour later with her guitar case in hand was, ‘Sorry.’

‘For what?’ Wendy said, standing by the table.

‘For embarrassing you with my clapping.’

‘You didn’t embarrass me. Not at all.’

‘That was amazing. But I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.’

‘Thanks,’ Wendy said with a wistful smile. ‘You wanna go grab something to eat?’

Joohyun said that she did. They walked cold and quiet under the eye of a pale moon like wanderers in a vision. There was nothing that needed to be said. Knowing in their heart of hearts that moments like this came rare to both of them and rarer still would they come without interruption. The restaurant they selected was the one Joohyun had mentioned. Wendy hefted her guitar case in and lay it on the bench beside her while they ordered and waited and talk very little. Savouring the quiet. Their food arrived fifteen minutes later. By the time they started eating the world was dark and the stars numerous and all held a soft glow to it that felt uniquely alive.

‘Thanks for coming tonight,’ Wendy said.

‘I told you I would.’

‘Still. It means a lot.’

‘You were even better tonight,’ said Joohyun. ‘No lie. Your voice is just a gift. You need to get it out there to the world.’

‘Yeah, that’s the next step. Hopefully, at least. Now all I need to do is print a bunch of copies of my CD and find a way to get people listening to it. And on streaming services, I guess. And then hope I get obscenely lucky in the process.’

‘You will. You’re too talented not to.’

Wendy only smiled.

‘What sort of music is it? Your EP, I mean.’

‘Mostly indie stuff. A little RnB synthpop mixed in as well. I could play it for you sometime, if you want.’

‘Yeah. Please do.’

‘I’m kinda hesitant when it comes to talking about it, to be honest.’

‘Why?’

‘I like it,’ Wendy said, ‘but I’ve always wanted to make dance music. Like, pop and RnB stuff. And I don’t like saying that because sometimes I think people would think I’m lying. That I’m being a sellout if I don’t automatically enjoy making little indie folk-rock tunes on an acoustic guitar. I do that with my covers and my performances because it’s what promoters want to hear and what they hire. But I don’t think I want that with my solo music.’

‘Why is your album indie stuff, then?’

Wendy glanced down at her plate. ‘It’s not all indie stuff. I was exaggerating. I guess it just sounds indie because it’s low budget. It’s mainly synthpop stuff, which is what I want to do, along with dance music. But I don’t have the confidence to do dance music. I couldn’t ever get on stage and do choreography, or even just be there on stage and look comfortable. Not with my anxiety. It’d eat me alive. So instead I’m stuck doing slower RnB songs that don’t require me to have any energy or move around much. Maybe even just stuck to doing ballads, like I do with my covers.’

Joohyun nodded solemnly.

‘I wish I could. I just can’t bring myself to do it. I know I can’t, as much as I try. I’ve tried a lot. I can barely go on stage at all. I had a drink tonight.’

‘What?’

‘Before I went on,’ Wendy said. ‘I had a bottle of soju before I went on stage. Just like last week. I know I shouldn’t, but if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to go out there and perform. So I had to.’

Again Joohyun was quiet. Whatever answer or response that came to her head felt poorly timed and inappropriate. They ate the rest of their food in silence. When they had finished Joohyun said, ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’

‘Where?’

‘You could walk me back to mine. It’s not that far from here.’

‘Sure,’ Wendy said.

It was a bitter night and there was no moon to guide them. As they walked they talked about themselves. Joohyun said that she had tried her hand at submitting poetry before and nothing good had ever come of it. She said it was even harder as an English writer, because what magazines would take English submissions in Korea? And sending them abroad, even by email, was a long shot. She had given up long ago. Had tried to settle down and be normal.

‘I tried that,’ Wendy said. ‘A long time ago. Tried being normal, I mean. And it was a long time before I came to grips with the fact that I’m not normal and I don’t think I ever will be. And yet sometimes I think there’s nothing wrong with that at all. It’s okay. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t have all the answers. Hell, I know I don’t. But I like to think that one day I’ll get there. One day.’

Joohyun smiled softly. ‘Well,’ she said.

‘Well.’

‘Here we are.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Thanks for tonight. For the meal, for the singing. For all of it. Felt good to do something different.’

‘Thanks for coming along again,’ said Wendy, hands stuffed into her pockets, breath diffusing in the cold. There was a calmness about her that calmed Joohyun as well, a centrepoint matrix around which all rational and good thought seemed to coalesce. That dreamy wanderlust somewhere within her. She said quietly, ‘Are you definitely working late on Wednesday?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘I’m performing at a bar in Dangju called Ladders. Seven PM. I thought maybe you’d like to come along.’

‘Sorry. I can’t. I wish I could.’

‘It’s okay. Some other time?’

‘Yeah,’ Joohyun said with a smile. She was still smiling when they parted ways.