Miley Cyrus - Slide Away

Lifehouse - Everything

Lady Antebellum - Ocean

I was seventeen when I first met Choi Minho. I can still remember his tanned skin glistening with sweat in the hot summer sun. His body was a flawless work of unbounded grace.

With eyes as deep and dark as the sea itself, he gazed into the distance when I read to him. And just like the sea itself, he could be gentle and comforting, but also raging and effervescent.

His thick, black eyebrows were pinched in a deep frown. He always had such a thoughtful face. As if he wanted to fathom every word and every sentence. Why had the author chosen this particular word? Why had he chosen this sentence to describe a feeling?

His broad stature showed that he knew how to handle machines and the unruly waves of the sea. His large hands adorned with slender, long fingers were dominant and shy in equal measure. I will never forget his smile, which held sadness and confidence within it.  

He was only a year older than me, so how could he seem so withdrawn? His gloomy eyes told me that he had already seen a lot in his still young life. Only years later I understood all his words with all their meaning. Too late I realised what was hidden behind the sparkling pupils of hope.

Choi Minho was...captivating.

Every now and then his whole persona seems like a dream to me. His body, his smile, his eyes.

The warm rays of summer bathed me with their deceptive intimacy and enveloped me in a wonderful dream. A dream that I was allowed to dream every summer until the clouds of reality gathered over me and the first drops of autumn shook me awake in the cruellest way.

I just came out of my world, as I call the little hidden place. Behind the hotel my father ran, there was a small avenue. It was adorned with tall trees and was just perfect for a walk. In summer, it offered cool shade from the summer sun. In winter it was pleasant to walk along it without being covered by high snow masses. What nobody knew was that in the bushes that run behind the trees there was a very narrow path that led to my world. My world was not big, but it offered enough space to dream. Surrounded by tall, dense greenery, I could be there 2000 miles under the sea, plotting the next prank with Tom Sawyer or flying over the Zāgros Mountains on the magic carpet.

Guests from all over the world came to us for a holiday, a rest or a short break from their world trip. 'Working where others go on holiday - isn't that nice?' I was often asked. But that's exactly what made me want to explore the world. When I helped my dad out as a waiter in the restaurant or for other tasks, I got to hear a thing or two. The guests loved to tell me about their adventures from all over the world, what they had experienced, and I loved to listen to their stories. I wanted to see the never-extinguishing flames on Burning Mountain in New South Wales. I wanted to walk through the water in St Mark's Square in Venice and admire the hidden waterfalls in the Seychelles. But when you work in a resort there is no such thing as a holiday. New guests arrived daily. Some spent three weeks there and enjoyed the relaxing areas like the pool, sauna or massage. Some, however, only stayed for one night to continue their journey the next day.

Our hotel complex was not far from the local harbour. When you sat down to eat outside, you had an excellent view of the glittering surface of the sea. As I walked along the avenue, I could already see the small boat. You could see that the years had worn away what might have once been a bright white of the boat to a mixture of different shades of grey. The wind blew a pleasant cool breeze through my face as I stepped out of the shade of the trees. Slowly I stopped and watched the boat find its footing on the harbour. 

I remember everything so clearly because it was the first time I felt hunger. Never before and never after could a man captivate me like that. He couldn't have been much older than me, his face was still too smooth for that, his eyes too shining with hope, but already slightly clouded by the reality of this dark world. His black hair, which was slightly wavy, blew in the wind as if he himself were part of the sea. A fisherman or a sailor, I thought at the time. I couldn't explain the muscular build of his broad stature any other way. He must have worked hard all his life. Nothing but hard physical work makes the defined muscles of such a young man a purposeful and at the same time controlled mechanism. It was only when my father called my name behind me that I realised how heavily I had been breathing when my eyes first fell on him. I had to remind myself to be aware of where I was, even though my heart was beating fast. "I'm on my way!" I called to my father who nodded happily and went back to work. One last time, however, I directed my gaze in the direction of the newcomers, but immediately looked away when his piercing gaze met my curious one.

My father had often talked with Minho's father. Sometimes I sat down with him and listened to the sea-tossing stories that the two of them had experienced on the high seas. Especially in the evenings, when Yunkyeom and my father had a drink together, he didn't mince his words. I often had to laugh when he used swear words, only to apologise immediately and use an even worse word in his next sentence.

The first time I heard Minho speak I got goose bumps all over my body. It weren't many words or particularly ingenious ones, but the sound of his voice would always knew how to mesmerise me again. "I'll be outside if you're looking for me." He said in his dark baritone to his father one evening when my father and I had once again listened to the old sailor's stories. His voice was firm as it could only be firm when you knew what authority you radiated. Before he left he turned his gaze on me and again I could not withstand it. I was glad we were sitting in the darkness of our hotel's bar and no one could see my glowing cheeks.

Everything about Minho was confident and attractive. His walk, which was both purposeful and calm, told me that he didn't care what others thought of him. I could see hope in his gaze. At the time, however, I did not know what he was hoping for. His aura was intimidating and yet engaging. He seemed dangerous, but never found words of condemnation towards anyone. He quickly became interesting to many, especially the opposite . The girls giggled and gathered around him. I would be lying if I said it didn't bother me. He smiled politely at them, but it never seemed to me that he enjoyed their company.

He liked to play football with the other boys in the big square between the harbour and our hotel. Most of the time without a shirt. His body was like a sculpture come true like the ones you can admire in museums today. With a lot of dedication and time, every muscle was clearly defined and his skin smoothed.

The team that had him in their squad had a clear advantage in him. It felt like he never needed a break and never got out of breath. Something inside him was crying out to exercise, to use his body. I often wondered what he did in his quiet hours, if he had any.

So the first days they spent at our facility passed.

On the eighth day after their arrival we talked for the first time.

I was sitting on the lush green and trying to concentrate on the novel between my fingers when I became aware of noise outside my world. My gaze went towards the ruckus on the green wall that had separated me from the real world all these years. A worn football rolled into my world. Nothing from outside had ever intruded here before. It tore me out. The real world could still wait until it could swallow me down again. For a long time I could visit this place to find peace, to experience everything that would never be mine. I could already hear the rustling of the leaves. I quickly took the ball, hoping to roll it far enough away so that my world would remain undiscovered by the real one...but I only froze.

Minho looked around the small area until his eyes fell on the ball in my hands. He smiled gently at me. "May I have it back?" he asked in his dark voice. Once again I felt little flashes ignite across my body. I nodded gingerly and tossed him the ball. He nodded his thanks. Before he disappeared again, he turned around. "What are you reading?" he wanted to know. I was not prepared for this. It was as if he clearly perceived my insecurity. "Norwegian Wood by Haruki Muramaki." I answered quietly. He smiled at me and disappeared back into reality.

Loneliness filled me as he left.

That night I could not sleep. Firstly, because I was afraid that my world was now freely accessible to everyone. That Minho had revealed that there, behind the many bushes, was a little place of dreams.

On the other hand, I couldn't sleep because Minho had spoken to me. He had even smiled at me. I was confused. Until now, I had seen him playing football with a serious face, concentrated and careful of every step he took. I had seen him faking a smile at the girls when they approached him. But this, this was a sincere smile he had given me. His stern features dissolved the moment the corners of his mouth went up and his eyebrows did the same. The smile made him look younger than before. And I couldn't help but wonder how a single person managed to combine so many opposites and still managed to live them out in such an authentic way.

My fear that my secret place had been betrayed did not leave me when I walked through the avenue again the next day. I was reassured, however, when I realised that nothing was different from usual as I walked under the trees. It was no louder or quieter than usual. Couples were walking hand in hand under the treetops and other guests were sitting on the benches enjoying the cool shade.

Maybe Minho hadn't told his football mates about it.

Maybe I should have asked him to.

"Oh." came out of me quietly in surprise and embarrassment as I entered my world. Minho quickly straightened up when he caught sight of me. "Hey." He smiled at me, and I felt as if his smile was also coated with uncertainty. "Hey." I said after swallowing. I snuggled Norwegian Wood tightly against my chest, my heart beating so fast he should have seen it if I hadn't hidden it. Firmly, my fingers gripped the binding for support.

"Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit?" I wasn't prepared for such a question. After all, I was always alone here and thought that's how it would stay forever. I only managed to nod my head slightly and took a deep breath before sitting down. Minho did the same.

I tried to concentrate on the words in my hand but I only turned the page after what I thought was a reasonable amount of time to finish reading a double page spread. I could feel Minho's gaze clearly on me and longed for a cool breeze to blow the red from my cheeks, but to no avail.  I took a deep breath before closing the book and facing his gaze.

I was . I felt as if he could see through me. His eyes penetrated me so deeply that the heat spread inside me like a sea of flames. No one would ever be able to extinguish this fire or make it flare up less.

"Would you like to read it to me?" he asked gently. I understood the words, but not their meaning. How did he manage to put such a piercing heat in his gaze while his voice glided me safely around in calm waters?

I did not answer but took the book in my hand again and began to read.

Not a day went by that summer that we didn't see each other in our world.

"Who do you think he will choose in the end?" Minho wanted to know when I had read out more lines from Norwegian Wood. I thought about his words for a while.

"Since he can tell the story and he's on a plane at the beginning, I think he'll choose Midori." I said with a slight nod of my head.

"But his love for Naoko is real and so...powerful." My counterpart contradicted me, looking at me with interest.

"I believe that behind Naoko and Midori is grief and life." I began to explain my thoughts.

"Naoko and him are close because they experienced something traumatic together. Naoko is what he knows, and sometimes it's easier to stay in what you know, no matter how much it hurts. But I'm sure if he had chosen Naoko, it wouldn't have ended well for him. But Midori, she is hope, as her name suggests, and she is so full of life and shows him that life can still be beautiful despite grief and loss." I explained my perspective to him.

"So he is between life and death all the time?" Minho looked past me thoughtfully.

"Maybe. I think everyone interprets it a little differently." I said to him. Minho sighed and smiled a little bitterly.

"I'm a real idiot huh?"

I was allowed to get to know Minho in a way no one else was. There was a sense of insecurity in this big, strong man. The authority he exuded was a strong shield around him as I quickly discovered. It was then that I first noticed that we really were the same age.

"You're not an idiot." I said vehemently and also truthfully.

"You were just focused on something else." I said firmly.

"What do you mean?" He looked at me without understanding. Even after the days we had spent together, his stares could still throw me off balance.

"Everyone goes through different phases in their lives. Accordingly, we are all constantly searching for something and looking out for other things." I said a little sheepishly, taken in by his glance.

Minho looked at me gloomily.

"Do you want to die?" My uncertainty vanished all at once. Laughing out loud, I held my hand in front of my mouth.

"Of course not!" I said hastily to take away his fear.

"Although I must say that my prospects are very close to living death." I said, immediately regretting my words.

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