The Stupid People

 “Kyungsoo?”

The auto-doorframe is colored black. He told his dad that it would look better—and more professional—that way. Now that he’s thinking of it, why does a door frame need to look professional anyway? He knew his dad wanted it white but he objected, knowing his dad was not someone who would reject his son’s requests or suggestions. He always got what he wanted. He used to really like that door frame because he felt proud that he was the one who designed the way it is right now. But now he hates it. He hates how it’s colored black. He hates why he used to always dictate things to his dad who he knew would not reject his ideas.

It’s only the soft ding sound that it makes when a customer arrives that he likes about the entrance of their—his store. Plus, it was his best friend who put it up. He used to really hate how it was there. He thought it was childish how someone would be so old-fashioned to have something like that installed in their store. He used to think it was annoying. The sound it makes is nothing but noise to him. He doesn’t know why he was like that. Why he was so engrossed with acting formal—or professionally—just because of his job. He doesn’t understand why he was so engrossed with being just like everyone else. It was stupid. And it drew him far from the people he loves. He regretted it.

He regretted his past self. He hated his past self. He hated everything. For a long time, he did not hear that annoying sound of the store opening for a customer again.

It was six months after his loss that he began to hear that sound again. It was just one small ‘ding’ but for once in his life, it sounded like a melody to him. Not a noise, but a melody. It sounded beautiful to him. He looked up to see his very first customer, and he was very glad he did.

“Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes are distant as he stares at the store entrance, as if yearning for someone to enter any time now.

It takes a moment before the sound of someone calling him is recognized by his ears. It sounds like someone from a distance is calling him. But then again, he isn’t really paying attention to anything right now to know if that person is actually right next to him or a mile away from him or if he’s imagining it in the first place. The voice sounds soft, and sweet and…elderly—it’s then that he snaps out of his stupor, his vision fixating onto an elderly lady looking at him with concern written all over her face.

“Ha-halmeoni. I’m so sorry halmeoni. Have you been talking to me?” he asks, bowing a few times.

“Yes, Kyungsoo. I noticed you weren’t here the past two days and someone else was looking after the store... I thought something wrong happened to you. I was worried.”

Kyungsoo watches as she slowly places the items from her basket onto the counter. Her movements are slow and he thinks maybe he’s imagining the extra slowness of the halmeoni, because of his impatience to see the wounded man he took care of for two days and two nights.

“I…I had to take care of a friend so I stayed by his side until I was sure he’s fine.”

He smiles at her apologetically; she smiles the warm smile she always shows him and it tugs at one of Kyungsoo’s heartstrings.  He feels guilty for making her worry. She is one of those people who try to understand him without interrogating him about everything that has happened. She is just there—being the kind neighbor whom he has started to think of as his real grandmother.

“Oh, is that friend okay now?”

The question makes Kyungsoo’s smile vanish, his eyes looking at a distant space again, and she knows she has lost him again.

His eyes are now fixated towards the store entrance. It’s already past dawn and yet the automatic door still has not made that melodious sound it makes when a customer arrives.

When that person arrives.

Everything seemed to have happened too fast and Kyungsoo wanted time to slow down so he could take care of the wounded man even longer, and perhaps see more of the beauty that the wounded man emits. He took care of that man for two days and two nights and it still feels like a dream to him. Somehow, believing the fact that the same man he has been wanting to talk to had actually laid and slept on his bed for more than a minute sends butterflies into his stomach and he has to will his heart the entire time to calm down. It was unbelievable and it ended so soon. After the night he changed the man’s bandages, he left the man to feel comfortable and rest for the night. The man needed to relax more to gain his strength. Although he wanted to stay more, take care of the man more, or even just witness the man’s beauty, Kyungsoo left the room. He knows the man would not like having him around. It’s not like the man knows him. He’s just some store owner that he has never looked at. He wonders if the man even remembers his name. Tuesday morning came and when Kyungsoo went back to his room to check on the man, he wasn’t there anymore. All that was left on the bed was the button up shirt he made the man wear, which was neatly folded and placed on the already made bed. He was sad. Although he wasn’t expecting anything much, maybe if he wasn’t such an idiot he would have at least introduced himself to the man, right? He could have at least done that.

Why did time have to fly fast when he wants it to be slow and be slow when he wants it to fly fast? Maybe it's just because the odds are against him, he thinks.

Kyungsoo hates waiting. He does not like the feeling of anxiety eating him up. He does not like the feeling of anticipating too much but still, he has to wait. He has to wait for four more days to see the man. He’s not even sure if the man would actually come to the store like he usually does every Sunday. He’s been telling himself that it’s fine because he made sure the man is fully okay, although not completely healed, but at least not bleeding anymore. He has already sewn closed the wound, thanks to his surgical knowledge.

That’s another thing that bothers him; the fact that the man was wounded by something sharp—like a knife. He doesn’t even know what the man did to get stabbed by a knife in the abdomen. And that’s when sadness, anxiety, and even desperation to see the man again hit Kyungsoo altogether. He realizes he doesn’t really know anything about that man, aside from his name. And his likings towards the sunrise, and Shin ramen, and how he comes from work every Sunday, and—Kyungsoo suddenly wants to slam his head on the counter table—there’s nothing else he knows about that man aside from those.

Why are you so stupid, Kyungsoo? Why?

At least his best friend, who has only recently taken an interest in another man has already found out a lot about that man he likes and he—he liked Kim Jongin for two years and yet he doesn’t even know things except for that.

And now he has to wait for the man to visit the store to make sure the man is fine, because he doesn't even know where the man works or where he lives, which he's sure he isn't supposed to know, but the man isn’t arriving and it makes Kyungsoo feel very uncomfortable—like something is gnawing at the pit of his stomach. A series of unwanted thoughts comes flooding into Kyungsoo’s brain and in that exact moment that he is lost in his worry, he does not notice the door opening, nor hear the sound he’s been wanting to hear for that particular person’s entrance to the store.

It is when his halmeoni clears that he gets pulled back from his own thoughts.

“How much is it, Kyungsoo?” Kyungsoo looks at her with his usual wide eyes as if trying to decipher what she just asked him, blinking his eyes a few times. It takes a little over three seconds before he tears his eyes away from her and stupidly looks at the screen indicating how much she should pay.

He looks back at her although his gaze isn’t really concentrated, “It’s 30,000 won halmeoni.”

The old lady smiles at him as she hands him the bill, “You have a new customer, Kyungsoo.”

It’s then that Kyungsoo looks up past her. And he sees him.

It’s like those scenes Kyungsoo sees in dramas where the actor sees the person he loves walking towards him, but in slow motion. A cliché, Kyungsoo thinks. But it’s what he’s seeing right now. The beautiful scene of seeing the man he loves walking towards him—just like in the movies. The only difference is that the man isn’t looking at him, nor is he walking towards him. And even more, the man doesn't know him.

Absentmindedly staring at the man while his hands maneuver on their own, wrapping up the purchases for the old lady, Kyungsoo stares at the man walking in the aisle while looking at the usual ramen aisle he goes straight to every time. The man does not even take a glance towards his way, even when he takes the long route towards the aisle. Somehow, he wishes the man would look at him again, like he did that night Kyungsoo was changing the man’s bandage on his stomach—even though it made him feel uncomfortable in the stomach and his heart was pounding too much to the point that it already felt painful. Kyungsoo isn’t really expecting anything. He shouldn’t.  He was just the unknown store owner who was taking responsibility over his customer and nursing him. He knows that people don’t usually do that for their customers, but Kyungsoo does not dwell on that thought. He volunteered to do that. Kim Jongin did not ask him to. So he shouldn’t be expecting a response from the man.

He absentmindedly hands the paper bag to the old lady.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo. I’ll be leaving now.” Kyungsoo bows his head as she takes her leave, his eyes still focused on the man in the ramen aisle. He notices how the man takes a little longer to get the items he usually buys. Usually the man would grab the spicy Shin ramen and a cup of coffee and pay straightaway, but now it seems like he wants to buy something else.

Kyungsoo watches him in anticipation. He waits for the man to come and pay for his purchases. He waits for all the possibilities—maybe a smile, or a thank you, or a glance, or anything—anything at all. As long as Kim Jongin shows that he finally knows that someone named Kyungsoo exists. Kyungsoo blushes at the thought of having a conversation with him, or even introducing himself to him. But what if the man is indifferent about it? Kyungsoo shakes his head. He should not be thinking like this right now. The possibilities and impossibility of it all happening sends shiver to Kyungsoo.

Then he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Only to disappoint himself. Kyungsoo lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he has been holding for so long. The man has left. Like he always does. Without a word. Without a single glance. Nothing. It’s as if nothing has happened. It’s as if what happened last time has not happened in the first place. Once again, Kyungsoo feels like slamming his head on the counter table.

What were you expecting Kyungsoo?

How could he be so stupid? What was he actually expecting? For that man to suddenly be friendly towards him? Or talk to him? Or look at him? Or even bother to notice his existence?

Pathetic. He knows that was a pathetic expectation. It was stupid. He knows it is. But he still stupidly hoped for something he knows won’t happen. He knew it was not possible. Not now. Not even later.

A loud slam is heard. Next is the sound of Kyungsoo groaning in pain as he rubs his forehead. Kyungsoo curses at himself for doing something stupid. He knows the counter table would be hard and it could crack his head into two, but he still did it.

He doesn’t even know your name, you stupid.

Kyungsoo sighs, a permanent frown on his face.

+ + +

A loud slamming of a door sends the walls of an apartment vibrating from its intensity. Next is the cursing of a young man as he stomps his way towards his room, immediately getting rid of his clothes in a trail, leaving only his under pants.

Stupid. Coward. Stupid. Idiot. Bastard. Failure. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Those words fill Kim Jongin’s head as he curses all the cuss words he knows. Somehow, it took him less than five minutes to arrive at his apartment from the convenience store. He doesn’t know why he was in such a hurry. He doesn’t understand why he zoomed out of the convenience store as if it’s the scariest place on earth. He isn’t even scared of any place.

Maybe. He thinks maybe it’s the weird feelings in his stomach, or the sudden cold breeze, or the air filling his head and making him feel nauseated like he had been in a rollercoaster zooming on 50km per hour, or even maybe the racing of his pulse—he doesn’t know.  He doesn’t even understand why he felt all of that at the same time. Then again, maybe because it was his first time trying to talk someone he doesn’t know—which makes it stranger. Because he always deals with strangers, has with strangers, entertains strangers. This is the first time he felt really uncomfortable talking to a stranger. Maybe because he was not a customer? Kai groans in frustration as he plops onto his bed.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his face buried into his pillow. Kai buries his head even more as if trying to choke himself.

A simple thank you would have sufficed but no, he was a coward. He was a stupid coward. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at the man, or smile, or bow his head. He did nothing. He even ignored the expecting look he knew he was receiving from the man.

Kai suddenly sits up in absolute frustration.

Jongin, you stupid coward.

He grunts and angrily ruffles his hair in frustration while gritting his teeth. He had been practicing what he wanted to say—for two days. He even ignored the questions asked by his boss and said he was fine and just had to rest for a few days as an excuse for his absence. The day after he left the store and the day after that, for two days, he argued with himself about the matter. It sends him conflicting emotions why he should go back and thank the man who saved him and why he would actually even think of thanking the man. He is very sure he would usually ignore anyone that would help him. Because he did not ask for help. That man helped him on his own free will. And besides, isn’t he the person who does not care about anything people around him do? So why should all this matter? But then the third day came and he suddenly wanted to go to the store and see that man again. The person who nursed him back to life, even when he did not ask him to. That person who stayed up just to make sure he was fine. That person with a trembling voice—that sometimes even cracks. That person with huge orbs that looked up at him with his permanently crimson cheeks.

That Kyungsoo person.

He arrived earlier than the usual, but he stayed out of the store and hid behind a lamp post. He ignored the coldness of the morning and practiced everything he wanted to say. He even tried to look—not angry. He could have smiled but smiling is something he doesn’t do. He doesn’t smile. Smirk, he does smirk though. But smirking isn’t something you should show to someone who showed mercy upon you. So smiling was off the list, he does not know how to knowingly smile. He was to say ‘thank you for the last time and I’m sorry I left without a word,’ but all that was forgotten once he stepped inside. He was, for the first five seconds after he entered the store, confident he could say all that he practiced. He should be because he already felt so embarrassed of himself doing all these unusual things. But then all that confidence ran out of the store when he looked up in the cashier’s direction. He was expecting the man to be looking his way or smiling or greeting his new customer in his trembling voice like he always does. But he did not. He was looking somewhere else and he had a lady customer. Kai very slowly made his way towards the counter, but hesitated the moment the man behind the counter looked up. He tried again, but it felt like there was a tornado inside his chest and his feet went on autopilot and went somewhere else—specifically to the ramen aisle. Everything he practiced had vanished. He could not remember any of it. So he cursed himself a thousand times in his head as he did what he usually does: take a ramen, put hot water in it, get a cup of coffee, pay for it at the counter without saying a word, walk to his usual spot at the corner, and leave after he’s done. Only this time he finished his ramen within a minute. And then he zoomed out of the store, mentally cursing at himself.

Kai grabs one of his pillows and hurls it across the room with a low growl.

Coward.

Stupid.

Kai drops back down onto his bed with a huff. A few seconds later, he finds himself staring up at his ceiling. His ceiling doesn’t have those weird-looking star- and meteorite- shaped things. Strangely, he thinks he wants to see those weird things on that person’s ceiling again.

He closes his eyes, a permanent scowl on his face.