What silences the voices in your heads?

Ms. Amihan's words stuck to me for the whole of the after school extracurricular activities we had. That one statement had changed my initial impression of her. She had seemed to be your typical teacher, nice, and friendly, and bubbly; now I know why she was a writer. She talked about why she was a writer, about the voices in your head that won't leave you alone. Plot bunnies, some would like to call them, the kinds that multiply exponentially and just keep on growing and growing in number until you can't control them anymore and you just go crazy if you leave them alone. Was that what it was like for me? Was that what makes me write? At the end of the period she gave the three of us an assignment to work on for the whole of the semester. On the very last day of class, all three of us were going to read out a piece on why we chose to write.

At first, I didn't understand why Ms. Amihan wanted it as a sem-end assignment when we could have written about it under the duration of the period, but now that I've thought about it more, she was right. Asking why you choose to write was not an easy topic to write about. Not if you were going to be really honest with yourself. I've never really considered that question before as I just assumed that the rest of the class only came to Creative Writing because they didn't want to sing, or dance, or whatever else course offering was offered that semester. It had been a last minute decision for me after all. It wasn't as if it were my childhood dream.

I was already out by the gate before I realized it, and it was already almost 6pm. A sleek black car stopped by me, and I smiled to myself as I got inside the passenger seat. Ian smiled softly at me and waited until I was all buckled in before hitting the pedal and driving home.

“So how was your first day?” We both asked at the same time.

We laughed, though his was a little more subdued than mine. “You go first.” he said, and I nodded at him.

“Well, there's really not much to say. I told you, I'll be in the same class as always in the same seating arrangement as we had been since first year. Only this time I get a seatmate.”

“I know, Jay Park, did he cause any more trouble?” he asked, turning his head towards me for a moment.

“No,” I answered him maybe too quickly, because he turned his head towards me again, and for a moment there I thought Ian would pull over. “Well, he's not actually that bad. I mean, I don't know. I invited him over to our table at lunch today.”

Ian seemed to consider this for a moment before speaking again, “Well, it's only the first day. We'll see how he does in the next few days. So what did you think of my first day?

I laughed again. “It wasn't bad. Just like the way you taught the after-school programs we were in when we were first years. You really like it that much, don't you?”

Ian grinned. “Yeah, my first day was a lot of fun. I didn't think you'd be in B again this year, I guess they really did become lazy and stuck the same students together.”

“Well, it's not so bad. Class B is pretty mellow compared to the riot that is Class C. How were they? Oh wait, did you get to meet them today?”

Ian shook his head, “I'm meeting them Wednesday, but I did meet a few of them in Prod today. I even recognized a few of them. Seungri and Jiyoung were in my class, they didn't look like they were up to any trouble though.”

“Well, Seunghyun is in my class, so I don't know. Maybe they don't do anything without the leader? Besides, the first week isn't over yet. It's not like tradition demands that first day assembly is d-day.”

Ian was silent for the rest of the ride. I guess him being a teacher- well, a college student taking his Practicals, made him see Big Bang a little differently. I should have realized he would be thinking about them when he mentioned Seungri and Jiyoung. Ian must be worried; Big Bang: Seunghyun, Jiyoung, Youngbae, Daesung, and Seungri, got their name by literally causing a bang the first day they got here. Some of them had been friends since middle school, maybe even before that, and they were known to cause trouble wherever they went. They had managed to set some fireworks off during the Opening Ceremonies when we were in first year, but they never really got into real trouble in the sense of expulsions and suspensions because Dong Youngbae, another heir, was with them. The most they got were the proverbial slaps on the wrist, and that obviously didn’t stop them from doing more.

I looked out the window and just watched various point of reference speed by us. We were taking a different exit from from the main city district of Seoul and there was pointedly less traffic here. After a few more minutes, Ian drove up a slight hill and straight into two large ornate gates with sentries posted at each side. We passed by a large guardhouse and after hearing the confirmation beep from the electronic pass transponder the gates opened and we rolled into this wide Plumeria lined road. The white blossoms lined the road, and the scent permeated the car giving an almost eerie feel. It was almost like a ghost town in this exclusive area in Seoul. We passed by houses that were literally blocks apart, with some houses being an actual block in size.

We drove around for a few more minutes before Ian turned another corner and I fished out the remote control from the glove compartment to open the large automated gates. The gates opened to reveal a large white rectilinear mansion. We stopped by the main door under a cantilever, and one of the staff came out to park the car.

After Ian gave him the keys the two of us walked into the house. It was one of those modern automated houses in a minimalist interior design. As soon as you walked in you could see a semi-spiral staircase that lead to the second floor where the bedrooms were. Over the right hand side a large wood panel separated the receiving area from...another receiving area. Seriously. This house had way too many rooms for the number of regular residents. We dropped our things on the floor, well I did, Ian carefully placed his laptop on top of one of the tables in the room, then we went straight to the dining room to the left wing of the house.

Dinner was already set for two, and Ian and I took our usual seats across each other. It was a silent dinner as it always was, there had always been something about the atmosphere inside this house that made you want to shut up permanently. Two uniformed maids were positioned on each side ready to wait on the both of us should we require it. Ian met my eye, and I just shrugged at him. Dinner, was never our favorite meal of the day.

Up inside my room I saw my bookbag already on my study desk. It was always like this, my things would magically reappear wherever, and whenever I needed them to be. Then again, maybe not magically. I pulled out my homework for today- the only one I hadn't managed to do during library hours.

What silences the voices in your heads?

Outside my window were more Plumerias, the yellow centers on the white blossoms were supposed to act as a homing device for pollinators, but it seemed like it worked to attract the human eye as well.

What silences the voices in your heads?

It was a haunting question. The fact that there were voices that needed to be silenced were disturbing enough. Ms. Amihan was right though. In a way, writing silenced the voices in my head, even for just a little while. It was calming.

I pulled out my laptop and opened the lid to find a document processor already waiting for me. I had attempted to start writing earlier today, but I gave up after a very intimate relationship with the backspace key.

Why did I write at all? It didn't seem like a very interesting topic, what really ignited my curiosity was why the other members of our writing class did. Since we have always had a small class our teachers would usually take one-on-one time with us concerning our course-work so reading each other's work didn't happen very often. Whatever we were able to see from each other were mostly generic topics that we flesh out on the spot just to humor our former teachers. Now that I really think about it, not one of the former teachers, there were two, ever asked us why we chose to write. I suppose they just assumed we there because of a lack of a choice? I wouldn't blame them for assuming that, after all, when you took a good look at the members of our class, you wouldn't really be too impressed either.

I heard a knock on my door and Ian's head popped in. “You busy?” he asked.

“Nope.”

He walked inside, already out of his work clothes and in a loose shirt and sweatpants. He had his beloved laptop- he was married to the thing, in his arms, and deposited himself on my bed in the center of the room.

“I need your help with something,” he said, crossing his legs and balancing his computer on top of them.

I joined him on my bed and looked at his screen- he was looking at our class records and seatplans. “What are you doing?” I asked, looking at him. “You do know I'm not supposed to see these records.”

He shrugged. “It's just basic information, names, birthdays, addresses, contact numbers, nothing restricted for you.”

“What did you need help with?” I was curious, to say the least. Ian had specifically came here to ask for help about 3B. What was our new homeroom teacher planning?

“You know your classmates pretty well, I won't be surprised if you know the whole year well. I guess I just want to know what I'll be expecting from them so I'll be prepared.”

“That's cheating.”

“It's called preemptive planning.”

He moved to the window with the 3B seatplan on it and highlighted the second row, Wooyoung's row. “Fate must smile a lot upon 3B to have these guys seated together, actually the whole seating arrangement is a little too perfect, don't you think?”

This was true. Most of the students got the seats they liked without even asking for it, well, most of them. While Ian thinks that friends were seated together, I think the opposite. It was more of these guys being friends because they've been seated together for too long. Being seatmates is a powerful thing, a lot more than people realize.

“More like they know each other too well from being seated all day long every single day for the last two years.”

Ian gave me a look and smiled. “Well you don't have a seatmate, how's that working out for you?”

I shrugged. “You'll see, you're the homeroom teacher now. Not that that's supposed to be significant.”

“Very enlightening.”

Ian and I spent the rest of the night talking about my classmates and how to deal with them individually and as a group. He had too many questions, and I had a lot to say as well. He also asked about the members of 3A and 3B, especially those in his Production class. He seemed worried though, definitely pressured, but more worried than anything and I couldn't help but wonder why. I really didn't want to ask him either even though the curiosity was killing me.

“You should get to sleep.” he said, closing the lid of his laptop. “I'll see you in class tomorrow?”

I nodded at him and moved back to pull the covers of my bed and snuggle under them, holding a pillow close to my chest. I watched as Ian switched off everything on my study desk, the lamp, my laptop, even packing my schoolbag for tomorrow. He picked up his computer again and walked towards the door.

“One last thing,” he said halfway out the door, his hand on the light switch. “Stay away from Jay Park will you? Give me some sense of peace at least.”

And with that he flicked the light switch down and slipped out of the door completely, leaving me in the absolute darkness of my room. Suddenly I wished I was thirteen again, because that way I could have asked him to stay. With Ian, there were no voices in my head.