Eight

"I swam across,
I jumped across for you,
Oh, what a thing to do..."
-Yellow, Coldplay

Orbeat is more than just an eating and drinking joint. It’s also a sight to behold. Picture a large dim room scattered with gleaming LED lights on the ceiling that served as stars; the tables and chairs were formed to look like meteors and asteroids; and the waiting staff wear green masks with antennas that make them appear like they’re aliens. Literally, the place gives off an out-of-this-world feel.

The surroundings were enough to create entertainment to their customers, especially to outer space enthusiasts, but there was one more thing. Orbeat is also home to karaoke lovers.

“This is your idea of fun?”

The statement uttered in pure blandness shattered the exuberant smile on my face. I rolled my eyes. “I bet you haven’t been here.”

“Maybe because I wouldn’t dare get caught being in here.”

Such a party-pooper. “This place is fun, you know. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be this packed this early.”

It was barely dark outside and Orbeat was already b of customers. Good thing, there’s still a spot left for me and Mr. Kwon. A good one at that because it’s located near the stage, where karaoke singers perform. Speaking of, at that moment, a Caucasian woman was belting lyrics to a Beyonce song and she sounded amazing.

“Why don’t you go over the menu while I find a song to sing,” I suggested, even rubbing my palms together as though inciting heat to elicit from my pores.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Whatever.” Then I browsed through the thick binder that contained the songs. Each table has a copy of it.  

There’s a song or two that I usually sing in karaoke bars but today, I opted for a different one. Wannabe – Spice Girls.

As I memorized the corresponding number series in my head, Mr. Kwon tried to snatch the binder away from me. But I was swift enough to hold on to it as if it was my last breath, glowering indignantly at him at the same time. “Hey, I know my voice . But this is about throwing yourself out there and having fun, okay?” I eventually handed the binder to him, gently. “Here. Why don’t you choose your own?”

He crossed his arms to express his disinterested response, averting his gaze elsewhere.

Well, I refuse to allow his sordid mood to squash my own cheery disposition. So I placed the binder back onto the table instead and gleefully bounced over to a booth near the platform. There was a small line so it didn’t take me long to submit my name and the number series to the karaoke jockey.

When I returned to our table, a waitress was taking orders from Mr. Kwon. And this may be assuming on my part but before he stated what his drink was, which I was pretty sure was going to be ‘beer’ of the Budweiser or Heineken kind, I took the liberty of barging in.

“Iced tea for him! And me, too!” I added my own order, and once the waitress was gone, I went ahead and explained myself. I just knew Mr. Kwon was going to berate me for what I did. “You can’t have beer. Remember, you are attending AA meetings.”

“It’s not like they’ll find out.”

“You don’t know that. I heard they do hidden investigations, to catch you in the moment. And when they do, they’ll have you bathing in cow dung.”

“Bull.”

I shrugged my shoulders casually. “Suit yourself. But it’s better to be safe, right?” I smiled cheekily, which Mr. Kwon only exchanged with his now-becoming-a-trademark mope-y face.

The Caucasian woman’s performance was done and she had received no doubt a loud round of applause. If I haven’t mentioned it before, she was amazing. Truly.

A couple more of performances passed and it was finally my turn. Strangely, at that exact point, Mr. Kwon hid half of his face with his red beanie.

“I doubt anybody will recognize you in here,” I said to him, assuming that’s the reason why. Aside from Orbeat being relatively a dark place, we’ve been here for roughly 30 minutes and none so far had been able to identify him. Isn’t hiding a bit too late already?

“I’m covering from shame,” he enlightened dully. “I can’t let everybody know I know you when you’re finally up there.”

Oh.

I rose to my feet and proceeded to the stage. Nope. He’s not going to ruin my vibes.

“Hello, everyone!” I chirped through the mic. “I hope you’re having fun!”

Then the music was launched and I started to sing. “Yo! I tell you what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what you want, what you really, really want. I wanna ha, I wanna ha, I wanna ha, I wanna ha, I wanna reallyreallyreally, wanna zig-a-zig, ahhh…”

Somewhere in my performance I saw Mr. Kwon on the verge of standing up from his chair, imaginably to leave. In my attempt to stop him, I quickly climbed down the platform and rushed to him, thereafter pressing my free hand on his shoulder. I made sure to look like it was part of my performance though, doubling over to bring my head near to his face, beaming and singing away. “If you want my future, forget my past. If you wanna get with me, better make it last. Now don’t go wasting my precious time. Get your act together we could be just fine.”

Whereas he seemed to be red beet in embarrassment that if he could just heave his beanie further down, let’s say, to his feet, I was positively enjoying this. Especially that unlike my karaoke experiences in the past, I think I sounded exceptionally nice tonight.

Okay, you know what, scratch that. I sounded just about perfect. I mean otherwise, why would the people bother whistling, hooting, and cheering for me?

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. Making last forever, friendship never ends. If you wanna be my lover…”

There’s something enjoyable about being on stage and singing. I wonder why I didn’t choose this as a career. Oh yeah, because my voice .

After my performance, I couldn’t have been any more delirious that I practically somersaulted on my way back to my seat.

“Oh my, God!” I squealed. “This is the first time I’ve never been boo-ed! Or laughed at! It’s official, Spice Girls’ Wannabe is my song now!”

“Yay,” Mr. Kwon responded dryly.

He was obviously mocking me. But I didn’t let that burst my bubble. I held my chin up, taking my iced tea that must have arrived in the middle of my performance. “Well, if you think I , why don’t you show me what real performing is all about?”

He snorted sardonically at my dare, popping a piece of calamari into his mouth.

I inhaled deeply and then breathed out, mock despair shrouding my expression. “I understand. I mean I should have known that you couldn’t. Isn’t that why,” I pensively gazed at a distance, pretending like I was trying to remember someone, “who is that guy… Im Jaeyoung, aka Blaze? Yeah, he beat you a couple of times in Inkigayo, right? I guess he’s just more adept on stage than anybody else.”

Outrage crossed Mr. Kwon’s features at once. “What are you talking about? We haven’t even met head-to-head in Inkigayo.”

That’s right, Lea. Keep it going. Keep on pushing him.

“Oh, right,” I nodded. “I bet YG doesn’t allow your singles to clash with his. To save you from humiliation. Because everybody knows you can’t beat him, right?”

As Mr. Kwon squinted his eyes and clenched his jaw, I handed the binder to him like it was nothing. He unceremoniously grabbed it from me, thereafter opening the thing up and silently selecting a song to sing.

Needless to say, a huge smile plastered itself on my lips, feeling like I won a Grammy award or something. But the sweet taste of victory didn’t flourish magnificently until Mr. Kwon marched to the karaoke jockey’s booth to present his name and number sequence.

Perfect.

As soon as he came back, I curiously asked what he was going to perform. He only gave off a close-lipped smile, as if to intrigue me more. Which he did so successfully because I ended up getting all squirmy on my meteorite seat. I was getting impatient, wishing that time would fast forward and then go back to its normal pace only when it’s Mr. Kwon’s turn at the platform already.

Ah, but fate truly tested my perseverance because about four more had performed. And while they all sounded awesome, I couldn’t find the time to appreciate them.

“Let’s give it up for our next singer,” the karaoke jockey shouted, “Rampage!”

“That’s me,” Mr. Kwon said, tucking a few wisps of his hair under his beanie.

I almost choked from the calamari I shoved into my mouth. “Rampage?”

“What, it sounds badass.” Then off he dashed to the stage and grabbed the mic from the mic stand. “Someone told me I’d have fun here in Orbeat. And you know what I think? I think the fun is just about to begin.”

His music finally started, and no more than two seconds had passed, he lilted the lyrics. “Get your cray-on. Get your cray-on…”

Is he singing his own song?

Indeed, he was.

As he thrashed the words up, showing off his swagger moves at the same time, the crowd cheered and grooved along with him.

Yeah, the fun had just begun.

I only joined in on it seconds later though, letting myself whirl in shock first. Probably because I never thought Mr. Kwon would still have it in him. He may have sustained an appalling reputation now, but give him a microphone, and he will not fail you. He was the still same G-Dragon that everyone enjoyed to see up on stage, under the resplendent glow of the spotlight. Not that this crowd knows that the very one who’s giving them a MAMA-worth of performance was none other than G-Dragon himself.

As soon as he was finished, he climbed down the platform and got back to his seat.

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated, doing a little victory dance.

I simply smiled my resignation. Mr. Kwon was having fun and I couldn’t have been any happier. More than just about proving him wrong, I think I just made him go back to the one thing he hasn’t done ever since his break-up with his ex-girlfriend. Performing.

“I bet you miss it,” I said once we were back inside my car, on the drive to bring him home.

“Miss what?”

“Performing.”

“Yeah…maybe…” He replied coolly, his eyes trained to the whizzing view outside. I noted his mood had changed again. But I ignored it at that time, all because his answer piqued my interest more.

I mean, didn’t he live for entertaining? He arduously trained for years and then spent more to finally show the nation, not to mention the world, what he’s made of. Singing, performing, writing songs, and to be extensively recognized for those—those were his dreams, right?

“Of course you miss it,” I insisted. “Have you ever tried getting in touch with Mr. Yang again? You know, for a comeback?”

Expression stoic, Mr. Kwon’s vision remained outside. “No. I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“What are you saying? I think you are. What you did back there at Orbeat was amazing. I’m sure you saw how everyone enjoyed your performance there.”

He only shrugged.

Running out of things to incite him to go back to the entertainment industry, I just opted to change the topic.  “So I’m planning to hold an event for Roof-A-Dog two weeks from now. I need you to be there.”

“Sure.”

“Haven’t exactly mapped out the event yet, but it’s definitely not going to be fancy.”

“Uh-huh.”

 “You are going to put the blue shirt on I made you wear from the photo shoot days ago.”

“Mm-m.”

That’s when I frowned. I can’t say I’m used to Mr. Kwon in this character—cold but not totally silent; accommodating yet uncaring. But I can’t also say that I like the one where he’s being a complete jerk. Because I don’t.

So I guess I’ll just take this version. This is good enough for me.

My thoughts shifted to a rather excited one when I saw droplets of water hitting the glass window of my car.

“Oh, my God!” I screamed zealously, pulling over to the side. Which I swore I tried to do carefully but excitement got the best of me so I might have done a repeat of what happened this afternoon.

“What the hell?!” Mr. Kwon shouted incredulously.

“Oh, you’ll live!” I told him, before getting busy with opening the dashboard compartment and hauling out a candle and a lighter. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?”

“It’s raining,” he said monotonously.

“Yeah. In the summer.” I lit the candle up. “Do you have any idea know what that means?”

“What?” He asked. But realizing quickly the nuance of curiosity in his tone, he tried to take his words back. “Oh, you know what? I don’t give a fu--”

“It means,” I interrupted, “that if this lighted candle keeps its flame under the rain with no umbrella or anything to protect it for the whole 15 minutes, the gods are gifting me with the love of my life!” Before I could hear Mr. Kwon’s retort, or whatever to imply my craziness, I was out of my car.

Timer starts now. 15 minutes.

“You’re stupid!” Mr. Kwon yelled through the windows no less than three seconds had passed.

I ignored him, concentrating instead in keeping the flame alive by putting my other hand on top.

He went on. “You’re crazy. You’re demented. You’re dumb. You’re—”

I finally turned my head to him and rolled my eyes. “Stop acting like a diva, Mr. Kwon. Why don’t you join me? There’s an extra candle in the compartment.”

“I’m not harebrained enough to fall for a stupid ritual.”

“It’s not stupid, okay? I’ll explain everything when you get out.”

“No.”

“Afraid of the rain, Mr. Kwon?”

Half-a-minute later, he got out of the car, an opened yellow umbrella on top of his head. It was my umbrella.

He ambled to my direction, stopping when he reached my right side. “Whatever the story is behind that ritual, I’m not buying it.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter for you, anyway.” I began to jolt and shiver from the cold rainwater that was seeping into my clothes and grazing my skin. “I mean you are good-looking, rich, talented. You will definitely have no problems meeting the love of your life.”

“And you do?”

I sighed, careful not to let the air that came out of my mouth kill the already frantic flame on my candle. “I know 24 for an age is probably still a low number, Mr. Kwon,” I rolled my eyelids down, giving my pupils a brief moment of rest from the stabbing raindrops, before I furled them up once again and went on, “but believe it or not, I’ve never dated a guy in my life.”

He cocked a brow, slowly running his vision at me from head to toe, sort of like gauging my body. Whatever his verdict was, he didn’t announce it.  “And what makes this whole keeping the light on under the summer rain will help you settle one?”

“It’s a proven rite,” I replied, drawing the candle closer to my body, as if the scanty heat it was eliciting would give me warmth enough to make it through the next ten more minutes. “My aunt did this when she was 33. She met her husband about a week after. They bumped into each other at the grocery store and sparks flew.”

Mr. Kwon snorted acerbically, deflecting his gaze to a dark distance. “Sparks flew, my . like that never really happens.”

“Never with your ex-girlfriend, too, Mr. Kwon?” I induced.

He instantly casted his eyes at me, gape as dark as the night sky. “Just get back inside when you’re done.” Then he went his way to the other side of the car.

“Mr. Kwon!”

He turned to my direction, annoyed eyes sweeping over me. “What?”

“I know I’ve never had a boyfriend, but… but I don’t need one to figure out that when he leaves me and breaks my heart, there’s no other choice but to move on.”

I braced myself for a retort. I was expecting one, to be honest. But none arrived, not even just a simple response that would convey his disagreement. He just silently stared at me for a few seconds, before folding the umbrella and got in the car.

Minutes later, I followed suit. I was happy that I was able to complete the ritual but on the other hand, I was also somewhat disheartened. Probably because I originally intended for Mr. Kwon to have fun…which I know he did back at the Orbeat. Then again, I just had to ruin it with me and my big mouth, didn’t I?

~*~

(8/16) Holler!

Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts.

I hope the summer rain ritual didn't sound too--and may I borrow Mr. Kwon's word, for the lack of a better description--stupid.

But Lea is Lea, and she'll believe in whatever she wants to believe if it means improving her love life. 

Anyway, the next chapter is one of my favorites.=)  Until then!

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Oh, by the way, I made a little change in the previous chapter about putting up Roof-A-Dog as a realization to JunMi's dream, not Lea's.