PLAYLIST: “One For Me,” SHINee

DOHEE

For most of my day, I half-heartedly focused on my job. Half of my brain solely belonged to the stupid favor I asked my good friend. I mean … how do you teach someone to be more appealing and ier? Is that even a thing? What was my brain thinking, stretching this whole little Busan incident into a whole freaking program that I signed up for, delegating my favorite stylist as my coach? This is beyond him. This is about me and my troubles with finding the one, why did I have to involve him? He has nothing to do with this. It’s not because he’s so irresistible. It’s not because his kisses melt my whole body into liquid gold. It’s not because the way he touches feels like a fleecy blanket protecting me from this cold cold world. It’s not because his gaze makes me feel so important, like they always tell me, Dohee, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve laid my eyes on. It’s none of that! I just … feel safe with him because he’s my only friend.

Friend—just friend.

Friends do favors for each other, right? I’m desperate to find my Mr. Right and I can’t find him if I stay the way I am—which is inexperienced and boring. I want to feel wanted, like how Baekhyun made me feel when he taught me how to kiss. But … that’s still different. I want to experience all strings attached with my Mr. Right. Baekhyun doesn’t like me that way, he’s simply helping me. He must feel so bad for me already that he has come this far to help me. I’ve made myself so foolish in front of him all these years, cried out all my insecurities and self-doubts in the more recent events between us.

I don’t know if it’s ever possible for me to change. I feel like I’m only going to waste Baekhyun’s time. I will never be attractive enough, worthy enough of love. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just left it to that. Right? He hasn’t texted or called me yet so I assume, he didn’t want to do the favor for me anyway. It’s stupid to start with. So, I guess I don’t have to worry. Maybe he also thinks there’s no chance for me to ever be appealing to anyone, there’s no fixing me.

Maybe I’ll be single forever. I am meant to be alone and it’s all because of me. People aren’t cruel, I’m just … not worth loving. I brush off the negativity away from my head before I start crying again. I am done with my shift and I am going straight home. I check my phone one last time, still no response from him. I mean … not that I’m expecting anything—it’s just really embarrassing that I even said that. But knowing Baekhyun, I know he would never distance himself from me. He’s an angel, he appreciates me as his friend. He would never judge me. He’s the only person who never does. Even I judge myself, a lot.

I crumple my apron into a ball and throw it into my locker. I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten anything. It gets busy here on Sundays and so I didn’t have much time. I guess I deserve it, I had enough fun Friday and Saturday. For what seemed like the millionth time, I check my phone. Wow, still nothing. Again, I’m not expecting anything? Just … Baekhyun is really like this though, I should be used to it. He’s not a big texter, not a big caller, not a big talker in general. He doesn’t text unless it’s necessary. Well, since it’s all out now that he’s straight, I wonder if he’s also like that to his girlfriends? He’s so independent, he doesn’t need to seek attention—I wish I was like that. I’m too clingy for my own good.

I want my boyfriend to text me sweet nothings every day, with lots of emojis. Ask me how my day is going, if I have eaten yet. I want my boyfriend to childishly fight with me about who’s going to hang up first when we’re having the longest phone calls. I want to pretend to be asleep and hear him on the other line whisper that he loves me. I want him to shut me up with a kiss every time we are arguing about something stupid. I want him to throw his arm over my shoulders to protect me when I’m scared of the horror movie we are watching in the cinema. There’s more but I won’t be done until tomorrow … or even next week. Basically, just all those normal couple things I see in dramas and movies that are just soooo sweet and inspiring.

I wonder if I’ll ever experience those?

I step out of the staff room and big goodbye to my co-workers. “I’m done for the day, see you guys tomorrow, okay?” I wave my hand with a bright smile, making sure I look at each and every one of them. I uselessly hang my thumbs on my backpack strap like a little kid as I walk out of the café. As soon as I am out in the streets, I get welcomed by a familiar figure standing and leaning by his car on the side of the streets. He had sunglasses on but I could easily tell, from his physique, who he is. Oh, massive crap cakes. It’s Baekhyun. He takes off his glasses and I instantly meet his eyes. I nervously laugh as I approach him. “What’s up?” I ask, I manage to sound less petrified than I actually am. He’s in his usual forest green plain tee and white skinny jeans that just … fits him so well. His hair is up—oh my god, his hair is up like how it was at the party. Not again, Jesus! This is one of the reasons, aside from my intoxication that night, that I ended up helplessly giving in to his offer of a memorable kiss. What is he doing to me?

And why … is his shirt … tighter than normal around his arms?

Or is it just me?

Or has he been working out? Wait—we were together in Busan for two days; he didn’t work out. It’s only been a day; he couldn’t have gained those guns in one day. That’s not possible, right?! Or is it? Am I just dumb because I have never worked out in my entire life? Or is he actually wearing a shirt that’s much hugging than normal? Aside from his arms, I could slightly almost see the shape of his broad chest stretched against the smooth fabric of his shirt. The fabric looks so smooth that I want to touch it! I think? First, the muscle tee last week, and now this? I need to stop seeing him on his days off because he doesn’t look like my favorite hairstylist!

“We haven’t even started with the lesson and you’re already getting better.” He talks finally interrupting thoughts. Huh—what? I look up with wide eyes. “Wha—what do you mean?” I ask. One side of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “You’ve been staring at me from head to toe for the last minute and a half like you want to tear my shirt open, you know?” He clarifies casually which makes me take big a step back. “Yah—no! I just spaced out, my eyes just happened to land on you, that’s it.” I disagree, unknowingly slapping his chest with my palm. Ooh, that’s firm. A part of me just did that to please my curiosity.

He shrugs. “How’s your foot?” He lowers his head, peeking at my feet making me take another step back when I feel his hairbrush against my chest from the action. “I’m feeling better, I soaked it in warm water last night, then I tried to wrap it the way you did,” I answer reluctantly. “Anyway, good to bump into you, bye!” I might have laughed that off way too much but I manage to say goodbye right away. Before I could run, however, he blocks me. “First thing, you need to be able to look me in the eyes every time we talk.” He speaks gently, his hot breath hitting the bareness of my face.

I know I am still breathing right now but it doesn’t feel like I am. I struggle to supress myself from looking into his eyes like he tells me to. I ultimately fail. His eyes twinkle in curiosity as if he’s searching my soul. “Men like a woman who can entice them with their eyes alone. Have you heard of, excuse my language, eyes?” I hop away from the dangerous proximity and laugh again; except this time, I sound like a pig in labor. Holly Molly, he’s actually teaching me? What am I supposed to do? I’ve already given up on that thought. “I—I don’t—uhm—what are you—ahehe—you’re so silly.” I choke in my words as I try to find the right things to say. “I don’t … know what those are so … I probably can’t do it anyway—but that’s fine! Forget about it, you don’t have to teach me anything. I was joking.” I shake my head viciously.

He simply smiles before taking a step back, his hands hiding back into his pockets. “I wasn’t teaching you anything. I was saying you have them which is an advantage for you … and your potential suitor.” He chuckles, one hand climbing up to cover his mouth.

Eh? I have what? “I have what?” I ask, grimacing up to him. His brows elevate as he blows air into his cheeks. “Do you really want me to say them again or do you want to know what it means? It doesn’t sound too polite to say it in front of you.” He asks, brushing a tangled clump of my hair with his fingers before tucking them behind my ear. “Wha—what does it mean to … have them then? Whate—ever you were talking about.” I stammer, my fingers death-gripping the straps of my bag.

He huffs an air out and looks around as if checking if anybody is close enough to hear our conversation. He peers down at me again with a gentle smile. “By the term itself, it pretty much explains everything. Your eyes tell what you want to do to … whoever that person you’re looking at. You show them with your eyes, how much you want them; their lips, their body, their everything. You don’t need words to let them know.” I move my F-word eyes—apparently—away from this man’s lethal sight, to look somewhere else.

I clear my throat to prepare for an argument. I come up with nothing. Nada. I narrow my eyes at him. “Err, I was more leaning towards the—physical part of being appealing and stuff? Like, help me shop for new clothes or what makeup makes me look y?” I clarify only to receive yet another mischievous smile from him. “You’re very innocent. Do you really think clothes and make-up are what it takes to ? I me—mean as a man? They don’t matter as much as you think they do.” He tells me, faltering for a moment right there.

“Well, why not? Why would they not matter? It’s all that matters these days.” I fold my arms across my chest.

He suddenly leans close to my ear. “Think about it.” From my peripheral vision, I see the slightest of his small dimple appear as he smiles. One little movement from my head would make our lips touch. That is how close he is at the moment. “You’re gonna end up with no clothes and smudged-up makeup in the end, so they don’t matter all that much.” He whispered before stepping away like a gentleman again.

Oh god, my ears. My ears are burning! What did I just hear?! I cover my ears tightly as if not doing so will eventually make them bleed fire. I close my eyes tightly hoping it would be an extra help, it wasn’t. Nothing is working. His words echo in my head like a broken tape.

He clears his throat as he scans the cement ground. “So.” He looks up to me again, as if he didn’t just tell me something so—so …. So, I don’t know, but it’s so—it sounds illegal. “Would you like to have some tea with me?” He invites like a proper prince. I gulp down a giant lump in my throat as I smile fretfully. “Ah—here? I mean, we can, I’m off work.” I point to the café I just left. I could probably use a drink right now, more like a gallon of drink. Whatever drink will do, I’d chug a gallon of hot tea right now if that’s the only thing available. He goes back to his car and opens the door to the passenger’s seat. “My place.” He corrects.

Holy Mother—earth.