She stood outside the store- more like 20 feet away from it, in case that girl was manning the cashier and she saw her through the display window. At least this time she had her glasses with her, and more than 75 won so she told herself, that, whatever happened, it couldn’t be worse than yesterday. Actually  few things could be worse than yesterday.

Besides, she needed the bag. It wasn’t like when she ‘needed’ food back in the store, as she pondered whether to sleep or eat, it wasn’t like how she ‘needed’ to get back home or how she ‘needed’ her glasses. Those weren’t real needs. Food, she could have gone without for a couple days, home she could gone homeless for the night and glasses, well people had managed without glasses hundreds of years ago. But she needed the bag, or rather what was inside it, as much as she needed breathing.

She inhaled deeply and hoped that this time there’d be another person in charge.

The bell rang.

She had decided  not to look at the counter, not even a sneaky glance. She had even purposefully worn a skirt today which garnered a few laughs back at the music studio along with the angry stares, exasperated sighs and various forms of silent treatment she had received when she admitted that the she didn’t have her stuff with her. Maybe, even if the girl was there, she wouldn’t be able to recognize her.

She walked briskly to the aisles, picked up a random magazine and walked back to the counter, eyes fixated on the floor. That wonderful floor that she had spent a long time inspecting yesterday, although the blood marks were now gone.

She placed the magazine in front of the counter. And prayed.

‘Anything else?’ a deep voice asked.

She looked up and let out a sigh of relief. In front of her stood a greying old man, wearing a checkered shirt of dubious taste and brown thick-rimmed glasses. He was also missing a few teeth.

‘Oh, erm well’ she started ‘you see, last night my friend was here and she left a backpa-‘

‘Wait!’ the old man stopped her. Her hands began to tremble. Was she about to get told off again? Or worse, would he call the police?

‘I’ve got it!’ he pulled out her red backpack from underneath.

‘It was a bit wet so we put it to dry. Also, I hope you don’t mind, the staff member who found it had a look inside to see if they could find a number to contact or something. Well, they saw some of your stuff was slightly wet so they put them to dry but I’m sorry to say to your friend that, erm, the sheets of music, the ink sort of run so they’re a bit hard to read at some parts. Hopefully it’ll be okay?’

‘I..erm, hope so’ her voice began to waver.

‘Are you okay, miss? I’m really sorry about the sheets but the bag was wet when we found it, probably from being outside’

‘No, that’s fine, th-thanks’ she stammered. She picked up the bag and ran outside.

‘Hey, hey, your magazine!’

But Taeyeon was no longer listening. She pushed the door open and ran out into the street.

***

She leaned against the brick wall. Her hands were pressed hard against her eyes, as if pressure alone would stop the tears spilling. The bag laid at her feet discarded, partly ped. Funnily enough, the weather had undergone a 180 degree change, from yesterday’s storms to a pleasant warmth, with a slight breeze of wind that felt like caresses against her skin. She thought it was nature’s way of mocking her. It was a day to be spent at the park, forgetting all the drama from a few hours ago, pen in hand and reclining against a bench underneath a leafy tree, writing the missing notes that would fix her melody, that would turn it from something good to something great.

Now, all she had were three stiffened sheets of paper and where before there were notes, carefully written on the octave bars, there were only blotches of blue ink.

the world. it hard.

Everybody else around her, they always seemed to have it easy. They would try and do something- succeed the first time. Hey, want to get into the police force? Sit the exam once. Want to find somewhere nice to live? First advert on the papers, landlord will even bake you cookies. Want to find your purpose in life? What for, you’ve known forever!

Have a dream? Bam, granted.

But for her, it was more like, hey, want to be singer? Rejected from every single casting. Want to study music in college? Miss the entrance requirement by the minimum. Want a part time job while you try and sort your life out? Spend five years of your life cleaning tables at a family restaurant.

It had seemed, fleetingly, momentarily, that her life was about to change for the better. Little signs, green shoots that indicated that at last in her life, and for the first time, she was going to get what she wanted.

The restaurant had closed down and in its place, one of those cafés that were springing about just about everywhere, had replaced it. The owner was one of those people obsessed with ethical stuff and ethical coffee and ethical whipped cream from ethical cows that he only thought it ethical to rehire the old staff. In an effort to be unique and trendy yet still homely- basically in an effort to stand out by being exactly like every other café out there, he had also let her strum her guitar and keep any tips customers might drop on a washed out tin, for an hour, Wednesdays to Fridays.

And then Jessica had walked in one day into the shop, into her life, and asked if she wanted to jam with her as she attempted to put together a band, that her voice was nice, her guitar was okay and that her face urgently needed some properly drawn eyebrows. And then somehow, Jessica’s friend, Hyoyeon, who studied modern dance at one of the suburban colleges, agreed to take over the drums only if Jessica would buy her a sandwich every time they got together and for some reason, she had seemed really adamant about the sandwich been bought and not made, ranting on about something like using sour cream instead of mayo.  And then some strange girl named Yuri answered the ad for a bass player, and at first they hesitated because she walked right into the glass door of the practice room and the only reason why there weren’t made to pay was because the owner had planned on changing the glass to double-panning anyways, but then when they saw how many times she apologized and how flustered she had become, they felt too uncomfortable rejecting her for being a potential financial black hole of clumsiness and allowed her to join. And in the space of two weeks, Taeyeon found herself doing what she loved the most, albeit still with some difficulties.

And then, then this had to happen. Then it rained and it washed away any dreams she ever had of making it big.