Jiyong's POV

Do you ever feel this kind of sensation when every single part of your body is belonging to, like,  some certain things? Even though you’re completely conscious, a sort of unexplainable energy forces you to do what you know you don’t have to do, or what you shouldn’t do, related to that certain thing. Okay, I’m not good at describing a phenomenon, but it happened to me when I heard ‘the song’ again.

I remembered every part of the melody. It floated between the crowds and the breeze out of nowhere and my feet couldn’t stop walking. Every step I took was leading me towards a place that I knew as a place where she probably hide—the old music room.

As I looked up the building, I could hear the song finished. I stepped inside and it made a creaking sound over the rotten wood. Also, the beginning of Mozart’s song could be heard from the music room. And my guessing was right; she was there.

“Uhm,”

Dara paused the play after I cleared my throat, and I walked approaching her. “There you are, skipping classes again. By the way, nice playing.”

“Thanks,” she responded with her awkward smile.

“So... you still don’t wanna tell me the title?”

“What? The song? It’s Sonata no. 16. Don’t tell me you can’t recognize it.”

I sighed, “Aish, of course I know it! I mean, the song that was... gah, you know what? Just forget it.”

“Why are you looking so upset?” she giggled and stood up from the seat, “By the way, where are we going?”

“Follow me,” I said, as I turned back to the door, “you’ll find out later.”

“I hate secrets.”

“But you have a secret, too. So why can’t I have one?”

I pulled the brake and the motorcycle stopped in the middle part of Seoul. After parking it, I brought Dara to a smaller street where there were a lot of various kinds of food stand. It was a hectic hour and pretty crowded, so I grabbed Dara’s arm. Her face flashed a bewilderment for a second, but I assured her that I did so to prevent her from getting lost in the sea of people. We kept walking until we reached a traditional small shop.

 “This place is my favorite, I usually come here with Dad,” and after that, the ahjumma, who is the owner of the shop, smiled and greeted me warmly. I chosed a seat that was on the corner, so we can see the crowds on the streets clearly. At the beginning, I was worried if Dara felt uneasy with it, but then I heard her comment:

“This is a good place to observe anything.”

After sitting down, Dara’s eyes was like scanning the shop, the streets, and she continued to look around the place with a bright face like a 5-years-old kid.

“Hey, what do you want to order?” I asked.

She simply shrugged, “Up to you.”

“Ahjumma, two bulgeogi, please!” I called over, then I faced back at her that was still spaced out with the surrounding.

“I bet you never come here,” I declared a statement, not a question.

“This place has changed a lot since the last time I came here.”

“Really? When did you come here last time?”

“I can’t remember it well...” she took her chopsticks and started eating. “It was a loooong time ago.”

I don’t know why, but the way she expressed that long term is simply cute.

“So, you often come here with you dad?”

Before I continue, let me tell you guys that finally, for the first time in forever, Sandara Park is the one who starts the conversation. Hooray!

“Yup,” I nodded, trying to hold my hysterical reaction.

“And sometimes with your mom?”

Before answering, I paused to swallow the food in my mouth. “No, Mom passed away when I was 8.”

 “Sorry, I was just...” her expression seemed guilty. “I am really sorry, Jiyong.”

“No prob,” I put a half-smile, “Life goes on, you know? I still have Dad and from what I’ve been observing, my dad is the strongest man I’ve ever seen. I never saw a guy who can be that multi-talented, like, he is the busiest work-a-holic that supports all my needs, but sometimes he can be your best friend, and in the other time, he is a wise parent you can rely on and talk to, about anything.”

“Your dad must be a very awesome person and you’re very proud of him.”

“Sure. Sometimes if he has a free time, he’ll take me to go to many places. This shop is one of his favorite place in Seoul. We always ate here when we had time to visit Korea.”

“Visiting Korea from where?” she tilted her head at me, seeming confused.

“From the previous countries I’ve been staying at.” I paused and blinked, “I thought you know that I frequently moved from one country to another...in my entire life.”

She gave me a blank stare, and then she just chuckled, “Of course I don’t. We’ve just met for about 3 or 4 days and I don’t know much about you, right?”

Seeing her clueless face made me raise my eyebrows, then I asked another question that everyone should know the answer, “Don’t you know who my father is?”

 “No, how could I?”

Again, I got that for-the-first-time-in-forever moment. For the first time, I met someone who doesn’t give a damn about who I am and who my father is. I mean, you can see the face of Yang Hyun Suk everywhere—in newspapers and TVs. Talking about the main object a.k.a. my father, media mass must not miss his private life, for example; his wife and children a.k.a. ME. I’m not trying to show off, but, the reality said so.

From Dara’s answer, I began to be sure that she lived in a place where newspapers and TVs don’t exist.

“You are much more interesting that I thought, you know,”

“And...what does that mean?” she furrowed her brows.

“That means we have to talk about another topic,” I said, “Tell me, do you have brothers or sisters? How many members in your family?”

“Why do you sound like interrogating me?”

“Oh, come on. It’s better than having nothing to talk about.”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled and rolled her eyes, “I have a little brother, but he went abroad to study. Now I only live with my mom.”

Our conversation flew normally after that. The awkwardness was replaced by the warm atmosphere between the two of us. Weird yet incredible, though. I mean, I was never being in a circumstance like this one—talking and chatting with a friend that you only met for a few days and the two of you can literally know each other only within one good evening in a small shop.

Dara talked about her mother who never considered her hobby and her nature talent—music—as an acceptable thing. Going against her mother’s disagreement, she studied hard by herself, so she finally got the scholarship to enter Seoul Arts High School.

“Truthfully, I don’t get it when there are some people who dislike music. Life is such a mistake without music. You know, I got this awesome quotes from someone...uh, well, I can’t recall who he is, but he said, ‘when words fail, music speaks’. It’s like...music can touch our emotions deep inside with its magic while words alone can’t. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Magnificent,” I said in awe, “Your elaboration, I mean. It’s just...I never thought music has such a deep meaning like what you’ve stated.”

“Being alone in my room can make me think about a lot of things, sometimes.”

“You don’t go outside that often?”

“Not really. I just love spending times with pile of books and piano, that’s all. For your information, I’m not a sociable kid, but I’m also not that type of bookworm girl who reads in the corner of classroom, starring at my friends while they’re laughing their at me. Kidding, I’m not a bully victim.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I can see that. You love reading? What kind of books you like to read?”

“Umm, a lot? I read almost everything.”

I stared at her figure who continued chewing rice hungrily. I held my sight for a second, then I smiled.

“What is it? Is there something wrong with my face?” Dara asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong with it.” I said, “I see that you talk more today.”

“I’m the one who had to say that. At first, I thought you were a cold, cocky, and anti-social person. But I think I was wrong.”

“What do you mean by anti-social? It’s you who is anti-social!”

“It’s you who is anti-social!” she imitated me with a heavy voice that sounded silly.

“Yah, don’t copy my words.”

Dara chuckled in amusement, “By the way, I love this bulgeogi.”

“That’s good. Eating bulgeogi is highly recommended if you come to this shop.”

“Can we go here again one day?”

“Sure. You know what? I think we need to do something with your super tiny body. Come on, you’re like you haven’t eaten anything since 100 years ago,” I added, “You know what? Culinary experiments are also as good as music. You can’t live without music...and food. Let’s try another delicious places like this in another time.”

She laughed softly, “That’s not a bad idea.”

Orange-bursts—with some red tinge—covered up the blue sky, embellishing the color of sunset. After having a satisfying early dinner, I brought Dara to see the sun sets near Han River.

“This is beautiful, right?” I commented, as I handed her a vanilla ice cream that was bought two minutes ago.

“Yeah,” she responded.

“Are you having a good time?”

"Sure, I...WHOA! This is so good, I mean, REALLY GOOD! This thing is really something!” Dara shouted exaggeratingly after the ice cream.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “It seems like you never ate it in your life.”

“Honestly, yes,” she continued the ice cream wholeheartedly, “I never taste such a great flavour in my life.”

 “You can have one more if you want.”

“Can we go here eating this everyday?”

I arched my brows, “Eating ice cream everyday, seriously? Do you want to get diabetes?”

^_^