“Hyun?” 

Upon hearing the old nickname one person always called me, I dropped my sandals to the shallow seawater.

“Crap,” I automatically cursed, a habit of mine developed since I moved to America, as I crouched down to pick my sandals up before the waves took them further from shore.

I stood up again, a pair of wet sandals on hand. I squinted my eyes to look at his face, to confirm my guess of this person's identity. 

My shoulders went up as I brought my free hand to my mouth and gasped, eyes widen by the sight in front of me. The same pair of eyes, the same nose, the same pair of lips, and even the cheekbones… dear God, it’s him! How can I not recognize him earlier?

It’s really him. The fact that the person I probably want to see the most was right in front of me made me feel overwhelmed. It felt like the feelings from six years back and now was mixed into one.

“Always the slow snail,” he said jokingly, “After six years, you can only stare at me like a fish? Really? Don’t you think you should at least say ‘hi’?” he teasingly suggested with that trademark grin of his.

“Hi, Yo-,”

My words were cut by the sudden downpour. Seriously, rain, seriously?! What’s with the weather these days? Go home, rain, you're drunk…

In a flash, one of his hands held my wrist, forcing me to run with him to the nearest shelter, while his other was uselessly put on the crown of his head. At first I hesitated and wanted to question of why couldn’t we just stay under the vinyl covers, but then I looked back to see a bunch of staffs running to a hoard of vans nearby, at least holding an equipment in their hands.

I was reminded of our past while he practically dragged me along with him. To think about it, it always rained every time something big happened to our relationship. Our first meeting, our first date, our first kiss and even our first major fight… I mean, how? If fate was a person, it must be a crazy lonely cat lady who happened to like soap operas.

I no longer felt water pouring against me. I looked up to see a big, yellow umbrella protecting our bodies from the cold rain. Then my eyes turned to look at my right wrist, which was wrapped around with warmth.

Noticing me staring at our hands, he pulled his hand away, exclaiming an ‘Oops!’ while touching the back of his neck with his free hand sheepishly. I then sat down at the long beach chair and he followed me suit.

“So… a fan huh?” I jokingly asked, trying to start a conversation.

He looked flustered, embarrassed and surprised, stuttering and saying out incoherent words as he did these hand gestures, trying his best to explain.

“U-uh, I didn’t, uh… I thought y-you, oh… so what brings you here?” he finally asked.

“Eyy~ stop changing the subject,” I unconsciously leaned a bit more over him and elbowed him lightly, giving him a teasing smile. But I answered his question, nevertheless, “The reunion, duh.”

He looked slightly embarrassed upon the obvious answer, “Oh. Right.”

“So…,” my voice trailed off as I paused for a brief moment, “since when the class prez is a rock star?”

“Uh, you don’t want to know about it,” he answered, avoiding the subject.

“Why?” I asked. “You do know this makes me more curious,” I stated the truth. I usually became more curious of something when people involved in the matter avoid to talk about it. Don’t you?

“Actually,” he paused, hesitating on whether to answer or not. “You triggered all of this to happen.”

I was stunned and puzzled, staying still at his answer.

Looking at my surprised state, his eyes soften and lips quirked up a bit, forming a slight smile before he talked again.

“After that call, I was in great shock. For a moment I actually convinced myself that I hate you, though it changed a few moments afterwards. I can’t bear myself to dislike you, let alone hate,” he explained with a bitter smile as I felt like my heart was stabbed with a knife. So he never hated me…

“After I... cried,” he mumbled that part in purpose, but I caught his words, “I decided I should go out and get some air. While I was walking, I stumbled upon Jonghyun, in the messiest state I’ve ever been into.

He called Jungshin and Minhyuk and brought me to the nearest karaoke bar. We met the two there and they listened to me. Minhyuk kept on consoling me with words that, I’m sure, came from his mother’s magazines and Jungshin kept on pouring me soju while saying that girls were all the same. He even shoved the whole bottle to my face.

I was very drunk, and that was when I grabbed the mic and tambourine, went up to the sofa and sang trot songs. How did I remember? That brat Jonghyun recorded everything on his phone and he still has it to blackmail me.

Despite that, the three kind of liked my voice and asked me if I wanted to join their band and go audition to Seoul or not. I didn’t want to be a boring businessman and I wasn’t thinking clearly, so I agreed.”

He then told me things after his career, how he and his bandmates faced a lot of hardships and had to eat spicy rice cakes for dinner for a two whole months, how nervous they were when they had their very first stage, how amazing it was to strum your guitar and belt out those lyrics in front of fans, standing in front of the stage just expressing yourself. He also told me about the disadvantages of working a profession of his, one being over-crazed fans. He explained that, even though he’d go harsh on them just like how he treated me earlier when he mistook me for a fan, they’d still follow him around nevertheless. Not to mention a lot more things to list.

Listening to his story made me feel speechless, dumbstruck, in awe. I didn’t even know that he sings well. I stifled a laugh at first at s’ failed attempts of consoling him, but as his story went by I didn’t even know what to say or do.

Probably because of my silence, he continued, “Even though it hurt me, I’m thankful that you somehow help me find my true passion. I wanted to part ways with you peacefully, wish you luck and remain a good friendship, but I couldn’t wake up the next day because of the awful hangover. Damn Jungshin,” he stopped for a moment to chuckle, “I hope you didn’t misunderstand.”

Despite being relieved and glad by the fact that he just proved my assumptions at the train wrong, the harsh feeling of guilt still rushed over my mind. I felt that I was too low for someone like him, for someone as forgiving and positive-minded as him. That was when I broke down in front of him, tears coming out from my eyes and my eyebrows furrowed, my lips pressed in a thin line.

His facial expression was of shock and worry, and suddenly, he hugged me; pulling me to him as he encircled his arms around me, with his hands on my back. He put his head beside mine, with his chin dangerously close to the crook of my neck. I can feel him closing his eyes, saying out comforting words while patting my back, giving me comfort.

“Don’t cry. You know I don’t know what to do if I see a girl cry,” he said in a hushed tone.

Listening to his words, I felt more tears flow from my eyes, to my cheeks and finally wetting the shoulder part of his shirt as I rested my head on top of his shoulder. My arms began to wrap themselves around him, with my hand on his back, slightly holding on his shirt.

I didn’t sob, nor did I wail or whimper; it was just silent tears, us two under the yellow umbrella with only the voices of rainfall and the waves audible enough to hear.

“Are you okay now?” he asked awkwardly. I timidly nodded as a reply and he pulled off the hug slowly. He looked at my puffy and red eyes, then he wiped the moist tears away from my cheeks with his thumb.

Awkward silence followed in as we sat side by side on the long beach chair, not uttering a single word. Maybe occupied with our respective minds.

This is it, Seohyun. He told you his story, you have to tell him yours. And you have