Chapter eight: A birthday cake

Everyday has been so tiring, trying on new wedding dresses, looking at how things will be organised and decorated, going to see new houses and everything.It’s nearly been a week since I made that final decision. What’s that joong going to do? He thinks he’s so dangerous when truthfully, I have no fear inside me.

‘Eh, bought the wedding rings .’ He sings, tossing the set onto my bed. I open it up to see a pair of rings with heart shapes engraved on the silver, with sprinkles of diamonds attached. I remember those rings! It’s the ones I really liked when I went shopping alone…

‘Why did you pick this pair?’ I ask. He scratches his head, ‘I don’t know, seemed kinda pretty and thought you’d probably like it.’

‘Awh, so you thought about me.' I fakely smile. ‘No, I didn’t. Stop thinking I care about you and love you heaps, you’re just some random chick in this game ya’ know. Oh and, since these rings don’t have much of a meaning to me, I thought that when this ends, you can still have a decent looking thing on your finger, it’s pretty expensive.’

‘Thanks anyway.’ I immediately cover my mouth with my hand. I just used manners? I just used my manners on him?!

‘HAHAHHAHHHAHHAHAHH, see I told you that you love me.’

‘Eeeew, go away!’

‘I can’t go anywhere, I have to visit you more often since you’re my fiancé. When we get married, let’s make lots of babies.’

‘What are you trying to imply?’

‘Or maybe we can avoid babies, but still make babies, if you get what I mean.’

‘erted bastard.’ I think in this guy's head, it's like ten percent normal things that aren't erted and then like ninety percent about .‘A ha ha.’ He fake laughs.I get up from my bed and decide to walk into the kitchen, I’m so hungry. joong follows me as well. On our way, I bump into Mr Kim.

‘Annyeong Mr Kim.’

‘AYE! All the manners now? I’m going to be your father in law!’ He smiles, looking like the great white shark.‘Heh..heh..’ I awkwardly reply. joong puts his arm around my shoulder, ‘Appa, I can’t wait till the day we marry!’

‘Jaejoong, you have to wait! Oh and you’re turning twenty three today.’

‘Mhm.’

‘Ka Eun, did you know that?’

‘What?’ I ask.‘It’s Jaejoong’s birthday today!’

‘Yeah Ka Eun, I’m the birthday boy today, treat me with something pleasuring.’ He dangerously whispers in my ear.‘You two should go out for dinner together or somehow celebrate. Laters, young ones.’ Mr Kim says, walking back into the meeting room.

‘So…’ I start, clutching onto my purse tightly, ‘how do you want to celebrate?’

‘I’m going out with my friends, not intending to invite you to my birthday though.’

‘I was thinking that you’d have those huge formal parties, considering you’re the richest Kim family…’

‘Nah, that was last year, I’m sick of that. Well I’m probably going to go clubbing or somewhere fun. Laters.’ With that, he walks out of my house, heading to his party destination. Fine, I see how it is, I’m your fiancé and you don’t invite me to your birthday.I walk back to my bedroom, just sitting there on my bed. My parents bought me an iPhone 4s yesterday. I scroll down my contact list.

0 contacts.

What can you expect from a girl like me anyway? I don’t even have joong’s number… and I can’t contact Yoochun either!

Even though he’s not inviting me to party with him, I guess I can still buy him a cake? Or I can make a cake for him. I came from a cupcake and cookie shop, I’m guessing a cake is just a bigger version of cupcakes, right? I feel like visiting Jae Eun again.

I step inside the shop, its mysterious presence just never leaves, never fades, it’s just there. I wonder how Jaejoon is doing, I wonder if he’s ever going to turn back here for me to flick icing on his face… I slide my fingers across the kitchen bench, the stove and the plates. I haven’t been in here for merely two weeks, and I guess I should clean it a bit. I roll up my sleeves to start the job. I remember when Jaejoon and I used to fight over who should clean the dishes. No one liked that job, washing off the cake mixture would take a long while, and then stick onto the sink, which means more wiping.

We used to play rock, paper, scissors to determine who had to wash the dishes.

‘Men always choose rock.’ He used to say, which resulted in me using paper. He was that stupid! I don’t miss him, I don’t love him, I don’t