Kim Jongin, two words, three syllables, yet too much troubles. With jet black hair, chocolate tanned casing, sharp defined jaw line, bee swollen lips, hefty built, soaring height, gold spoon in his mouth and bank account to buy the government, he was every woman’s desire and every man’s envy. The epitome of perfection.

However, she hadn’t always liked him. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment where she loathed the young man but ever since she met him she knew he was trouble.

They were both university freshmen when they first encountered each other. She was the nerdy medical student while he was the blithe music major. They hadn’t even ounce of attention to each other on their first meeting. This was about to change.

Being a medical student drained Soojung; mentally and physically. She was practically killing herself trying to maintain her scholarship and not to mention doing too many part time jobs to pay her bills for her apartment she shared with a similar English literature student, Suzy. There was a reason why she fell asleep most of the time in class.

They first exchanged words in the wee hours of Monday morning at around about 3am. She had just come back from slaving away at the convenience store and grumbled her way into her study table to finish her assignment in the last minute.

As soon as she opened the first page of her book a loud noise drummed their way into her ears. She immediately amplified her sense of hearing to catch the culprit. After a few minutes of eye narrowing and major concentration she deduced that the noise came from her next door neighbor; Kim Jongin.

She really wasn’t in the mood to be angry but neither was she going to be disturbed throughout the morning with some Chinese fellow singing a horrendous song that she could not understand. She mustered up all the courage she could find and tiptoed to the culprit’s door.

It took another bunch of nerves to put her hand to the door and produce a knocking sound. Within seconds the music stopped and heavy footsteps walked towards the door.

He opened the door with disheveled hair and wore on a bored expression. She immediately averted her gaze as soon as she realized that he was not wearing any piece of upper clothing.

“It’s 3am,” he stated the obvious while roaring a yawn.

“So you are aware,” she confidently says but it comes out as a small half distinguishing peep.

“What?”

“Are you deaf or something?”

“Please get to the point,” he ingenuously said and tapped on the hem of him door impatiently, “What is the problem missy?”

Soojung was becoming more and more annoyed by the fact that he did not seem to realize that he was the problem. She folded her arms and faced the oblivious student and shouted, “Your music is too loud. You very well know its 3am so you should also very well know that people might be sleeping.”

“Ok. Fine,” he grunted and before she could even try to have the last word, the door was slammed straight into her face and left her dumbfounded at his rudeness. Nevertheless, she was content from her bravery and the silence that engulfed the morning air.

 She later found out that the majority of her friends had a never ending crush on the boorish neighbor of hers after pouring her heart the very next day.

“You live beside Kim Jongin?” Jieun plumed her arms around Soojung, “You lucky sod.”

Lucky? “Very,” she replied as she rolled her eyes and threw the arm off her shoulders. She couldn’t see what they saw. Yet.

The first few weeks after semester break are spent trying to juggle classes and work. She now often catches a glimpse of the tanned male on the way or coming back to class. She tries to call him to maybe kindly negotiate with him but he ignores her. Knocking the door in the early mornings to tell him to shut the music has already become a habit to her and she no longer averts her gaze when he throws his door open.

One morning, however, he did not switch off the music or lower it to a considerable amount. It was the uncountable time she knocked on the beast’s lair but to no avail.

“Kim Jongin,” she yelled over the music, “Please shut the music up while I’m nice.” The only response she was greeted with was a Japanese man singing another nonsensical song.

She couldn’t do anything but retreat to her bed and suffer the morning away. When the golden sunrays hit her eyes the next morning she knew she had overslept. She groaned and cursed him a million times while getting ready for the next class.

She met him the next day while picking up her clothes on the small veranda, though it was too small to be called a veranda. She gave a small cough to take his attention and said half shouting, “Your music has to stop. One morning I can hear Indian music and the next I’m hearing Thai.”

“Which one did you like the most?” he said giving her a stoic look while still hanging his clothes, “And please stop mumbling.”

A grunt left her lips and she threw all her clothes into the basket. She went in before she could release her anger and sat herself at the edge of the study table. The music was switched on once more and she wondered if he does it intentionally to annoy her.

Her next encounter wasn’t with the man himself but with another frail looking male dressed in a suit and freakishly Jongin-like while holding a small brown paper bag. She assumed it was his father and politely lowered her head. She was about to enter her apartment when the said male asked, “Do you know the person who lives here?”

“I’ve met him on several occasions,” she replied back while trying to balance the groceries and fumbling with the keys.

“Do you need help?” a smile arched upon his dry lips and his expression turned into one of a father.

“Yes please,” she giggled as the elder took the keys off her hands and popped them into the hole. With a single turn the door opened to reveal her small yet cozy apartment.

“Thank you,” she thanked him and offered, “Would you like to have something to drink while you wait for him? He’s probably at one of his classes right now.”

“That’s very kind of you but I might miss him when he gets back,” he politely rejected her.

“He always slams his door when he gets back so you wouldn’t miss him,” she gave her warmest smile to the weary looking elder, “Plus, I’ve got these to die for cookies. You’ll regret it.”

She knew she had won when the man fell into barks of laughter and stepped into her apartment. She gestured for the sofa while she prepared his drink.

“So,” she said while handing over a hot drink, “Are you by any chance his father?” She noticed that he was a fragile old man who probably over worked himself by the small dark bags under his eyes and desiccated lips.

“Yes I am,” he responded and blew gently into the brim of the cup, “He hasn’t been loud and difficult I hope.”

“He’s been an angel,” she forced the white lie through her parched throat and past her pearl whites.

Jongin’s father threw her an eye raising look before taking a sip into his drink, “That’s a change.”

Soojung almost wanted to agree with him for a second but held back when she heard keys tinkling that follow by a slam of the door, “He’s back.”

“Thank you for your cookies that are to die for,” he thanked her before exiting her apartment and knocked onto the next door. She closed her door before she could even take a glimpse of the fiend.

She took the groceries from earlier and began sorting the perishable ones into the fridge and the rest into the almost empty cupboard. As she did so, she began to hear some shouting over next door and wondered how a kind man like him could’ve been the father to Jongin. No wonder his eye bags went up to his cheeks.

The weeks after, he no longer answered the door. After screaming most mornings in front of the door she eventually gave up and the songs began a natural lullaby. Her housemate didn’t mind either but that was partially because once her head touched the soft pillows it would almost be impossible to wake her up.

It was the end of the first year and she hadn’t enough money to travel back to her hometown. She was left alone when she parted with Suzy but nevertheless work kept her busy. She never saw him come out of his apartment but the music never stopped. In the early hours, one morning, however, she could not hear the music. As she sat facing her books, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit hallow without the music.

Suddenly, she heard a tap in the wall.

Tap, tap, tap.

She glued her ear next to the wall that was presumably next to his room. She listened attentively to the tapping and it didn’t stop. She decided to try and respond to the tapping and began to gather all her nerves and tapped on the wall. It stopped abruptly. For a few minutes everything went silent. Then the tapping began once more but this time with a little more beat and sounded like he was trying to make his own music.

She leaned into the wall to try and hear if there was any more taps but was greeted with a soft but heartbreaking sobs. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows became akimbo as she tried to figure out what it was. The sobbing began louder and she began to hear glass shattering and inanimate things falling.

Her heart raced and she too raced towards his front door. Her hands trembled as she threw her fists into the door viciously and ordered, “Jongin, open up.”

 She was greeted with more heartbreaking sounds from inside the apartment and little by little she too became heartbroken. After the uncountable time of knocking she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. She took the baseball bat that was gifted to her by her father and went to his door. She began to gnash the door knob until it was broken and pushed her way into the dark and eerie apartment.

The lights began to flicker slowly and her eyes wandered around the apartment to find a timid boy sitting on the floor by the edge of his bed in a cradling manner with his hands tightly around his ears and eyes bloodshot red.

 He began rocking himself forwards and back and whispered slowly with a hint of fear in his voice, “I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you.” He was chanting with a chattering teeth and shaking body. She took a few steps and not long after she found herself sitting beside him and cradling him into her own hands. It suddenly hit her hard why he always seemed to ignore her when she yelled his name and why he had put the music on too loud.

The sunrays glimmered in her eyes and she sat up straight to see herself sleeping in a strange place and wrapped in a yellow and black comforter. She recalled the previous day of crying and the young boy’s petrified expression. She quickly stumbled to her feet and darted out the door into the living room.

The neighbor was standing at the kitchen counter looking very much like his usual self and tossing over the eggs failingly. She slowly took a step back but was caught when the wooden floors began to creak at her movement.

“You’re awake?” he asked as he prepped up some salad on two plates.

“That’s for me?” her eyes moved to the plate of American breakfast and a shy smile broke her sleepy face.

He opened up a tall chair for her to sit and settled himself in the seat opposite to hers. He lowered his head and began playing with his eggs, separating the yellows from the whites, “If it’s horrible you’re welcome to throw them out.”

“It’s very delicious,” she smiled as she took another bite into the breakfast.

He suddenly raised his head and a twinkle in his eyes met hers, “Please forget about yesterday. Do not in any circumstances tell anyone.”

She could sense the panic in his voice and asked, “Do you want to talk about it? You should at least go and see an audiologist for a hearing evaluation.”

“As you can see I’m perfectly fine,” he firmly replied but she once again noticed the hint of fright flickering in his hoarse voice.

“You’re in the early stages and that’s the reason why you can still hear me,” she dropped her spoon and folded her arms, “You should go before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late,” he whimpered and he too drops his spoon, “It’s too freaking late.”

“What do you mean?” she sighed and stood up.

“I can’t hear you,” he said like the chant from the previous morning as he buried his face into his hand, “I can only hear vibrations.”

“Jongin,” this time her voice shuddered and she knew he couldn’t hear when he didn’t raise his head from his arms, “Kim Jongin.” Both of them fell into a disheartening silence as he slowly sobbed and she slumped into the chair with nothing else to say.

Her housemate, Suzy, was more than surprised when she came back for the coming semester and saw Soojung coming out of the next door neighbor’s house with a merry looking Jongin. She quickly pulled the brunette into the apartment and threw her into the sofa.

“What are you doing?” her eyes questioning her with a very stern expression, “I thought he was your sworn enemy?”

“Hold your horses,” Soojung barked into laughter and patted the former’s head, “We were only having lunch.”

“Since when did you start having lunch with the foe?” Suzy pulled her back onto the sofa and crossed her arms, “And that was not lunch. That was more like a date. He was smiling. Kim Jongin doesn’t smile ok? Ever.”

“Stop being mean,” Soojung nudged her flaxen housemate, “He’s nice once you get to know him. And he cooks delicious spaghetti.”

Suzy raised her eyebrow quizzically, “You’ve fallen for him?” She clapped her hands in joy and began to lock Soojung under her arms before threateningly asking, “Do you like him?”

She lets out a small snort. She could not like him. He was still as annoying as ever and she could never like the demon in a million years. It was absolutely impossible. It was such an insane thought, she wanted to slap the sanity into Suzy but held back her hands and tore Suzy away from her, “Stop sprouting nonsense. He’s coming over to dinner today so you better be a good kitty and clean up your stuff.”

“Meow.”

Later that night, as promised, he appeared in front of the door with a simple white shirt and blue jeans holding a plate covered with silvery foil. She wondered how such a simple style could make him so good looking. Her thoughts wondered for a while before snapping back to reality when he signaled a small cough.

She lets him through and signaled for the living room where Suzy was looking not amused. Soojung eyed Suzy to greet him and with a heavy sigh, Suzy went over to shake his hands.

“It’s nice to finally meet the man who has been waking us up in the morning with his lovely international songs.”

Silence overcomes the room when he stares at her blankly and averts his gaze to Soojung. She, in turn, made some signals and explained.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin lowered his head and it took Suzy a nanosecond before understanding the situation.

Kim Jongin, two words, three syllables, yet too little understanding. With jet black hair, chocolate tanned casing, sharp defined jaw line, bee swollen lips, hefty built, soaring height, gold spoon in his mouth and bank account to buy the government, he was every woman’s desire and every man’s envy. The epitome of perfection.

And as Soojung saw Suzy’s astonishment and the way Jongin’s shoulders fall to a slight distress, she knew she had fallen for him. Maybe, he was far from perfection, but who wants to be perfect anyway?

_______________________________________

To be continued.