I closed the gate carefully trying not to make any noise. I don’t want to wake up the old man. I don’t want to see the pathetic look in his eyes every time I came home after a couple of days staying with my friends. His silence always irritates me. I’d rather be scolded but, he would just stare at me with his pitiful eyes.

I tiptoed to the house like a criminal about to rob someone’s home. I already felt sleepy. I just wanted to get in my room and crash on my bed. I hardly had enough sleep partying until morning.

I made it to the porch but, I almost lost my balance when someone appeared out of nowhere. My could have hit the ground if not for the strong hand gripping my wrist.

“Where have you been all this time?” The stranger hissed at me. His minty breath blowing on my face confusing my sleepy mind.

“W-who are you?” I stammered. My chest was about to explode. I couldn’t feel my wrist anymore.

“Let go of me.”

I pulled my arms from his grip but, he didn’t let go.

“You’re hurting me.”

He slowly released my arm. I backed away from him.

“Who are you?” I asked once again. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I live here.”

“WHAT?!”

My voice echoed in the courtyard. This man must be kidding me.

I scanned his whole appearance through the dark. He’s just wearing a white top over a Bermuda short that just reached the middle of his thigh. The muscles on his arms and legs were flexing as he stares at me. A burning cigarette on his left hand.

We both turned our heads when light flooded the whole porch. The old man stood by the doorway.

“Nabi, you’re home.” He gently said.

“Who is this man?” I asked instead.

With the lights on, I had a clearer view of the stranger. The first thing I noticed was the tattoos on his arms.

“He’s my new friend.”

“When did you start hanging out with thugs like him?”

“Nabi!” The old man’s voice vibrated in my ears.

Before I realized it, the words were already out of my mouth. I couldn’t take it back. I dared not look at the stranger in front f me. Nor the tightening in his jaws. Nor his hands clenching into tight fists. I lifted my chin higher and marched to my room slamming the door behind me as hard as I could. The old man’s voice was still ringing in my ears.

It was the first time he raised his voice at me since I moved with him last summer. Staying with him under one roof is suffocating the hell out of me.

He always treats me nicely. Not scolding me. Not preaching whenever I did rude and impolite things at him. He would always give those pathetically apologizing eyes. It pisses me off when he looks at me with those eyes.

Tonight was a first. And I’m not a bit resentful of what I did back there. I was rather relieved. Finally, the old man is treating me normally. Finally, I felt I still existed.

 

 

---

 

 

I woke up with a bad hangover.  I had too much to drink last night. My head is throbbing like its being hammered. I kept still for a moment until the dizziness disappeared.

I cringed when I saw myself at the mirror. I still had my clothes on since the other day. My face was a complete mess.

I tried removing the smudges from my face with a wet tissue. I could hardly recognize myself under the heavy makeup.

I sighed heavily.

I came out from my room with a towel on my shoulder. The bathroom was inside the main house. One of the disadvantages living in an old house.

I heard voices coming from the porch. My forehead creased wondering who could be coming to see the old man this early.

My stepped faltered when I saw the stranger. He was facing my direction.

A blurry encounter with the stranger slowly replayed in my mind. My eyes turned into slits as I remember what happened. My blood started boiling.

He lifted his gaze and saw standing just a few feet away from them. His eyes lingered on me longer than I expected. Then, he smiled lopsidedly and returned his attention to the old man.

Did he just mock me?

If looks could kill, he could be dead at this very moment. How dare he insult me like that? 

 I stomped my feet willing myself to ignore the two persons in the porch. Bu, the old man called my name. I stopped but, didn’t look back.

“Nabi, come eat with us.” The old man said.

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” I answered and continued marching to the main house.

The old man just installed a new bath tub. I kept nagging him about it ever since I stepped my feet in his house. A bath tub is a prerequisite to my bathing ritual.

My hangover lessened after bathing. My body was free from all the slime and smell of the previous night. My face was void of any cosmetic.

I stared at my body on the bathroom mirror. Scars were visible on my chest. They were tiny scars scattered on my torso. I traced one dominant scar on my left chest. It was deep and ugly.

My jaw tightened upon remembering how I acquired those scars. No matter how hard I tried to forget, those scars constantly remind me. Every time I see myself in the mirror, that particular memory automatically pops in my head. There was no escaping it. I am forever bound to that memory.

I grabbed the bath robe hanging on the wall. Wrapping myself with it. I towel dried my hair and stepped out of the bathroom.

The old man and the intruder were already gone when I reached the porch. They left the food on the table.

I can’t ignore my stomach anymore. The smell of food made my stomach growl. I squatted on the floor and started uncovering the dishes. I started eating to my heart’s content.

I don’t usually eat heavy breakfast. A coffee and toast is enough but, I couldn’t stop eating everything on the table. I didn’t know the old man can cook such delicious dishes.

I was so focused on my meal.  I didn’t notice the intruder’s presence until he announced himself.

My eyes widened when I met his gaze. I choke on the soup I was drinking when I noticed his appearance. He was wearing an orange apron with the chicken house name on it.

 I bit my lip not to burst out laughing. He looks ridiculous with his outfit. His tattooed forearms were screaming at me.

He was carrying a tray of sliced fruits.

My brows knotted at the way he was staring at me.

Do I have something on my face? I asked myself.

“Mrs. Jung sent this.”  He finally spoke. He placed the tray on the table without saying another word. He immediately left disappearing at the wooden gate leading to the chicken house.

Hmm… That was weird.

 

---

 

I am so full; I thought my stomach is going to burst.

I laid myself on the porch floor savoring the morning sun on my skin. I could see the peaks of the buildings outside. The brick walls surrounding the house were like a barrier from another world.

It was so peaceful and quiet inside these walls. The exact opposite of the chaos at the other side.

The silence was broken by the sound of my phone ringing.

It was Bom. A friend I recently met at a party.

“YAH!” She yelled from the other line. I thought my eardrums cracked.

“Good morning to you, too.” I replied sarcastically.

“Where are you? You’re supposed to be here an hour ago.” Bom continued yelling on the phone.

“What are you talking about?” I don’t recall meeting her today.

“What the hell, Dara? We’re supposed to hand in our application today. Did you really forget about the competition?”

“What competition?” I am still lost of what she’s talking about.

“THE FASHION AND PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST WHERE YOU’RE SUPPOSE TO BE THE MODEL!”

Bom emphasized each word. Her voice was like thunder to my ears. I could imagine her wanting to kill me at that moment.

“I said I will think about it, Bom-“

“You already agreed on it.  You can’t get away anymore.”

“I don’t remember saying I’ll do it.”

“Sure you don’t.  You were so drunk when you lost the bet.”

“What bet?” 

Was I really that drunk? I couldn’t even remember a single thing.

“For Christ’s sakes, Dara. Get your over here right now.  Our final grade depends on you.”

 

---

 

“Bom, I don’t think I should-“

“I’m giving you an hour.”

The line was cut off. I just stared at my phone.  I tried to recall the previous conversations I had with Bom.  Everything was blurry inside my head.

Bom is a fashion design student on her final year at the university.  I met her at an after-party of a fashion show. I was one of the part time models.  I did the catwalk thingy for the money.  I don’t want to ask the old man for his money.  I can do any bizarre job if I wanted to.  Ramp modeling happened to be one I was good at. The only setback of this job is getting wasted after every show.  But, I was enjoying it.

I have been doing it since I arrived last summer.  Without the knowledge of the old man. He doesn’t have to know and I don’t have an obligation to tell him.

I was forced to live with him anyway.

I was hanging out with Bom a lot since we became friends. Her boyfriend, Tabi, was complaining a lot lately.  He’s saying Bom doesn’t have time for him anymore since she met me.  So, we ended up a trio wherever we go.

Bom was waiting for me at the university entrance.  Her hands on her waist ready to murder me. Her eyes were shooting daggers at me.

“Sandara Park!”

She shouted my name for everyone to hear.  I hate it when people call me with my full name.

“Shut up, Bom.  You should be grateful I still decided to come.”

I nodded at Tabi who is sitting impatiently on the pavement.  He stuck out his tongue at me.

Tabi is photography major also on his final year.

The competition is a three-man collaboration. Fashion designing, photography and of course the most significant part, the visual. ME.

I didn’t know how I ended up joining the two.  We’re a complete contrast from each other.

Bom is an aegyo person. Her clothes are always cute and yet y.

Tabi is a passive person yet when he throws a joke we end up rolling on the floor.  He was not trying to be funny. He just has those moments when we’d just died laughing at him. He was even clueless.

I am the wild one in the group. I always wear gothic fashion clothes.  I hardly wear normal clothes. 

I want people to stay away from me. People have this misconception of gothic appearance.  I used it to my advantage.

But, Bom easily saw through my pretense.  She hooked onto me like a fan girl ever since.

 

 

“You’re not qualified to enter the competition.” The girl at the registration desk handed back our application.

“Are you kidding me?” Bom was freaking out already.

“She needs to be a student here to be able to qualify.” The girl pointed at me. She was looking at me repulsively.

“I didn’t know that rule exists.” Bom remarked.  The girl pointed at the poster beside the table.

EXCLUSIVE TO SEUNGRI UNIVERSITY STUDENTS ONLY.

Bom grabbed my hand and dragged me away.  Tabi just followed silently.

“Where are we going?”  I asked as I tried to keep up with her pace. 

“To the registrar’s office.  You’re going to be an official Seungri University student.”

“What?!  Are you crazy?  I don’t want to be a student here.  I don’t want to study.”

I tried freeing myself from Bom but, she was determined to do what she wants.

“Don’t be a kid.  You don’t need to study.  We just need that effing enrollment proof.”

“Tabi-“

I was hoping Tabi would intervene but, he just shrugged his shoulders.

I am starting to regret getting involved with this couple.