The first time they’d ever met was at a themed 60’s party of a mutual acquaintance. An eccentric marketing head who’d drawn inspiration from the Michael Bolton song Summer of ’69 and had named the party thusly.

It was hard not to notice her since her group of friends were the liveliest in the room easily drawing attention, and she was one of the few daring women who chose to bare midriff in one of the many styles spotted during that decade. Yellow shirt with bell shaped sleeves and ruffled at the collar buttoned all the way to the neck, only to reveal her entire belly as she had tied it neatly at her rib cage. Blue bell bottom jeans sitting low on her hips with a yellow scarf threaded through her belt hoops to act as a belt. A turquoise tie tied around one thigh and luxurious thick tresses falling straight down to her waist.

One of his friends had noticed his preoccupation with the group of nine women and had made an introduction.

“Summer, this is my good friend Yunho. Thought it was about time I made the introduction,” Donghae saved their introduction for last, having introduced the other eight first, probably to raise his anticipation.

Holding out her delicate hand, she greeted him with one of her signature bright smiles that taunted his lips to tug upward in a reciprocating smile.“It’s nice to meet you. Let me guess, The Beatles?” she suggested when he finally took her hand, referring to his ensemble. He kept his clothing choice pretty safe with a lightweight high neck sweater under a 60’s style brown tweed blazer with bell-bottom corduroy pants, adding a modern twist of Aviator sunglasses rather than the psychedelic round-framed glasses.

He laughed, “tie-and-dye and buckskin vests aren’t my thing,” referring to the odd choice made by the brains behind the party, Heechul. He got a gentle chuckle in response, which was more than he hoped for, “Do you dance?” the words came spilling out before he could stop them.

“Is that your roundabout way of asking me to dance?” she laughed with a raised eyebrow and head quirked to the side in amusement.

He would have blushed if he wasn’t so composed. “I suppose, I am,” offering a smile.

“Then I would love to,” she agreed, allowing him to pull her toward the dance floor with the hand that was still conspicuously holding on to his from their earlier handshake.

Over the years since he’d last seen her, he’d wished he’d never met her because if he hadn’t, then he wouldn’t have hurt the way he had after she’d left him. The continuous running of her story in the news picked at old wounds, he had thought had healed.

The second meeting had been coincidental at an award dinner where they’d finally exchanged numbers and had met severally after that night.

Summer was a free spirited person with a You-Only-Live-Once mentality that coaxed his own inner wild child to the surface. She had him jetting off to Jeju for dinner even though he had a 9 o’clock meeting with investors the following morning. He took abrupt, random 3-day holidays to Macau, Tokyo and Saipan when the fancy to travel caught her and she dragged him along with her –it was an honest miracle his work hadn’t suffered greatly enough to reach his father’s ears.

This time she’d tagged along to Phuket on one of his many business trips, convincing him to stay a few more days since he’d managed to close the deal.

It had been raining heavily, but she’d convinced him to go for a walk on the beach, hand in hand with soaked clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

“You’re the only girl I know, who’d go dancing in the rain at this age,” he confessed to her in a whisper, as the rain began subsiding into a lighter drizzle.

She chuckled, “You’re never too old to enjoy the simple things in life,” her tone held a contemplative note rather than a defensive one. “Besides, you’re way too serious for someone your age sometimes.”

“I’m here playing hooky with you, when I should be at the office preparing a report,” granted he’d emailed an outlined Power Point presentation and detailed report to his assistant, but taking a vacation with her again, clearly proved that he wasn’t as uptight as she was claiming.

“Yet you fret over reports in the middle of the night when you think I’m asleep?” She challenged, forcing him to pull them to a stop and turning to face her. “It isn’t an insult being straight-laced, you know. In fact it’s kind of admirable and cute,” she moved to assure him, adding a soft kiss to his pouting lips.

He looked into her eyes searching for mocking, but found only sincerity. However he still felt affronted by her words. “Then why do I feel insulted,” pulling her against him, and wrapping arms around her waist to steady her as she balance on her tippy toes.

“Because you feel the need to be otherwise to impress me,” he had to admit her words were true. It worried him a little that she would tire of him one day, so he feigned being a lot more random than he was used to. “Don’t change for anybody, Yun. You’re good just the way you are, leave the random behavior to the experts,” She added with a smirk that begged to be kissed off.

“Expert, huh?” he asked against her lips, feeling her melt against him. He could be random too when prompted.

•             •             •

It shouldn’t have happened because he respected her, just as much as he cared for her. A kiss was all he was going for, but then he’d gotten lost in her, things escalated and she hadn’t stopped him... That level of intimacy should have been left for marriage –it’s what his father had taught him. Yet his steel control had failed him, and now he was walking up alone in bed without her. With only a neatly jotted down note and bedded bracelet on her pillow for company.

[You were sleeping so peacefully that I couldn’t wake you. Something came up at the office, so I had to leave early. I booked you a ticket for the afternoon flight as well, knowing the workaholic you are, you’ll want to get back immediately ^^

P.S: Stop beating yourself up about last night like I know you are –you’re still karang material.

See you soon.

Summer XO]

Even with her words of dismissal, he felt bad about it. But, it was a consolation to know that it hadn’t driven her away. One thing was for sure though, he missed her and soon wasn’t soon enough.

To her, he’d given everything –heart, body and soul, but she’d left him anyway. Left him after she’d made him fall hard for her that he could tell which way was up.

Throwing the book in his hand across the room in a burst of anger, he tried to curb the tears. He rarely cried, everyone knew that but, the amount of tears he’d shed for her seemed to prove otherwise.

“Have you ever been to Europe?” Summer asked while they gazed at the star filled sky. They’d escaped the wedding reception of a mutual friend to grab a way-too-greasy meal of burgers and fries, before ending up on a bench by the Han River star gazing.

“I went to Paris once, but I can’t say I’ve truly been there since it was mere hours. You?” he asked, stealing a glance at her. She’d been looking tired, but was insistent on escaping with him and he had obliged.

“You should take some time off and go on a European tour. There’s so much to explore there,” tugging his coat tightly around her as she sighed.

He chuckled, “Is that a hint of where we should go next?” they hadn’t taken an overseas trip together since Phuket, settling on the random trip to Jeju and road trip expeditions to various cities and towns around their native home of South Korea –from Busan to his home town of Gwanju.

“You should really go, an entire summer should be enough.”

He should have picked up on her non-answer that night, but he was too rosy eyed to notice.

“Africa is another place you should go, especially Tanzania and Kenya. The landscape is absolutely beautiful, and the children always greet you with a smile despite their circumstances,” she suggested one morning, spotting his red button down shirt and bare feet as she padded round his apartment, taking in the pictures on display like a curious child.

He would say her conversations has taken a turn for the odd and random, as the days passed but nonetheless interesting. “Then another 3-month vacation should suffice? Just tell me the date and we’ll go,” he indulged her thoughts.

“I feel like having a full English breakfast now. We should go out and get some before they stop serving breakfast, I know a place,” she uttered even more randomly than her last outburst, turning her big brown eyes on him urging him to comply with her craving.

“Arasso, Summer-ssi, get dressed and I’ll treat you to breakfast,” he managed through a bout of laughter, watching her skip out of the room in happiness. Aish, he really loved that crazy woman.

He should have noticed her pulling away from him every time they met, refusing to commit to any of the suggestions she made to him, even as he planned out those very holidays with the two of them in mind.

While playing Need for Speed: Underground on PSPs on a lazy Sunday afternoon, came another one of her random questions which he’d come to associate as part of her unique charm. “What sort of house would you buy, when you’re ready to make the investment?” concentration fully on the game, even as she was losing.

“Something simple,” he wasn’t an elaborate or extravagant guy even though his family was what one would call ‘New Money’. Even his parents preferred their simple lifestyle; only splurging on charity trips they took out of the country to help the less fortunate, on entrepreneurs they found to be going places and on good health insurance. “I don’t like the cold emptiness of a large mansion. I would prefer something smaller, cozier and warm – a bungalow or small maisonette with a large backyard. I don’t know something to raise a family in.”

She crashed out, leaving him to take the lead comfortably. “How many children?” she hollered over her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen to probably get a snack. The woman was a bottom-less pit when it came to food.

“20 girls, 5 boys,” he voiced out his old expectation to her as a joke. As he’d grown older he knew that number was an impossible, but he still wanted as many children as his wife wanted as long as it wasn’t just one. Those 25 children would have to be children in an orphanage he dreamed of building.

“Yah, are you trying to kill someone?” she questioned, returning to her seat with a bag of chips. He kept a supply handy because he knew they were her favorite, he preferred fresh fruit as a snack. “You do realize you won’t be the one carrying the baby, right?”

Moving closer to her, he pulled her into his arms as she munched away at her chips. “Hey a guy can dream you know, besides the process is suppose to be fun,” he defended, getting an elbow to the side for his trouble.

“Crazy pabo,” she muttered.

He shouldn’t have listened to Donghae when he’d told him that the reasons she was asking those questions was because she wanted a proposal from him. She hadn’t wanted a future with him, he’d let his assumptions and hopes fool him to believe otherwise, and had ended up being the fool. At least he’d forwent the public proposal, therefore avoiding looking like an even bigger idiot.

“What are you doing?” she asked. It wasn’t the ‘yes’ he’d expected, the smile that had been tugging at her lips disappearing into nothing on her ashen face. His heart dropped. A ‘no’ would have been less painful, instead of the pure horror on her face. “You can’t do this,” adding a dagger to his already shattered heart, with the firmness of her voice as she uttered those words.

Getting on his feet, he approached her as she backed away from him almost hysterical. “Summer –” but she cut him off.

“It isn’t suppose to be like this,” holding out a hand to stop him from coming closer. He honestly didn’t understand what was happening. They’d spent close to a year together, together in every sense of the word, it was inevitable that they make it official. “We… we don’t get married.”

He was surprised he could still breathe when she was twisting the knife in his chest. “Mworago?” She looked stunned that he would even question her, like he was the crazy one in this. He’s spent a whole year of his life with her, falling in love with her and now all she could say was ‘We don’t get married’ like all that had happened between them was a trivial whim. “So I was the idiot that fell in love with you?”

“I didn’t mean for you to,” the steely calm of her voice, more frightening than anything. It was his worst nightmare come to life. “Love is for people who have the time for it, and I don’t… I’m sorry.”

Those stone cold words and that weak sorry was all she’d left him with, disappearing out of his life like she’d never been there to begin with. If he didn’t have Donghae and pictures to prove she existed he would have thought she’d been something he dreamt up.

Three full months he’d spent in a drunken stupor, trying to drink her memory away –it didn’t work.

Next remedy of choice was work. He threw everything he had into business, and achieving further success for the company. That didn’t work either.

He tried being around his friends rather than going to his apartment that was haunted by memories. Heck he’d even managed to escape thoughts of her for a couple hours, but he’d go back home and the memories flooded back –it didn’t work.

Finally, after holding strong for more than half a year, he broke down and cried. Letting his hurt and anger take over for a weekend.

It worked.

He finally dealt with the issue and finally began the process of acceptance.

He never saw her again after that day, and he honestly never wanted to set eyes on her again. Eventually he’d moved on, started dating again with someone much more grounded than flighty, marrying her a year after and starting a family.

He’d thought he was over her, that he’d buried her memory and his feelings along with her abandonment. But now he had to face it all over again. He had to face losing her all over again.

“It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of best-selling author Choi Sooyoung, who penned many best-selling books and rating grabbing scripts under the pen name C.S.Y. Summer was another penname used when she wrote for fashion magazines, no-one ever connecting the vibrant young writer as the celebrated author C.S.Y…”

“Did you know?” Yunho asked, marching into his friend’s coffee shop not hiding his anger.

Donghae didn’t even have the decency to pretend like he wasn’t expecting him, calmingly excusing himself from his cashier to approach him. “Yun –”

“Did you know she was sick?” he gritted through clenched teeth, not wanting to cause a scene but barely holding onto control. He didn’t want lies. It felt like everything he’d know about her, loved about her had been a lie and he was still the fool even now.

The shorter man sighed, his face tired. “I didn’t know. No one did, Yunho-ah. You were the last person she saw, before leaving.” He wanted to call Donghae a liar, but he could see the man was dealing with the news himself.

He left.

“… the young woman died after a long battle with cancer. She will be remembered for her witty words to fashion readers here and across Asia. As well as her riveting and warm novels that were turned into award winning movies and dramas that captured imaginations across all generations…”

The Summer he knew and had fallen in love with didn’t seem to have ever existed, and he honestly didn’t know Choi Sooyoung, so he didn’t know what to feel. Because staring back at him from the TV screen was Summer, same bright eyes and smile yet it wasn’t her. His mind was all over the place, not even sure what to feel.

“…As she had no living relatives, her estate has been divided among different charities and homes she supported across Asia and Africa, with rights to her books, scripts and royalties entrusted to her loyal friend and manager Song Qian with other miscellaneous property given to her close group of friends…”

He was sure that his wife suspected his ties to the writer, having dropped a mug at the news, but had chosen to remain silent. And if she hadn’t known before, Song Qian’s visit certainly affirmed his ties to the woman.

“The one thing she wanted me to deliver personally was this,” Qian began, placing the shoe box sized ornate antique wooden box on the table, as all he could do was stare into space still unsure that any of this was real. It was easy to think her gone, but alive somewhere living her life than it was to know she was dead, no longer in this world. “And this as well,” placing a hard copy book on top of the box.

That stirred him out of his stupor enough to read the title, Sarang: Affairs of a Woman’s Heart. “What is this,” fear gripping him as everything he’d forced himself to believe was falling apart in front of him. It was comfortable to think she hadn’t loved him and left him because he was just a game to her, but now…

“It’s the last book she ever wrote,” Qian answered. “She wanted me to tell you that ‘the book explains everything’.” The otherwise composed woman showed a crack of emotion as she recounted the words of her employer and friend. “After the first round of publication, all rights will belong to you. So, if someone should want to make a movie or screenplay, translate it or if you want to pull the book altogether, then it will be your decision.”

At first he’d wanted to throw it all away, or better yet burn it all –anger getting the better of him. But in the end he couldn’t bring himself to do any harm to the only things she’d left him. He hadn’t been able to read the book, not yet but the contents of the box weren’t any better.

They were mementos of the places they’d been, boarding passes, receipts, dried flowers and various dated notes on things she wanted to remember.

The shock came when he dug deeper into the box.

Pictures of him she’d taken when he’d not been looking, more than he could ever imagine she had when he had to be content with only a strip of 5 they’d taken in a photo booth.

“…It has been confirmed that Choi Sooyoung’s last literary work will hit shelves post mortem on the 23^rd of next month. It’s said to be quite different from her other work, and will perhaps give an insight on one of the greatest Korean writers of our time. Details are few and far between, but the current working title seems to be Sarang: Affairs of a Woman’s Heart…”

He’d finally read it, which had brought him there –still reeling in hurt, confusion and anger because there was so much she hadn’t trusted him with. There were so many choices she’d stolen from him because she’d chosen to protect him.

She’d been at his wedding and had watched him marry someone else –he’d never known.

She’d watched him play with little Jiyool at a near-by park with a smile –he’d never known.

She’d bought a house that she left in his name and had been staying there since she’d returned to Korea –he’d never known.

The reason she’d left Phuket early, wasn’t because of work but because she’d suspected a relapse despite being in remission –he’d never known.

She’d cried for a week after refusing his proposal –he’d never known.

She’d loved him too, and now he knew but, it was too late to do anything about it.

“Love is for people who have time for it, I don’t…” She’d known she was dying and had rejected his proposal.

[Exert from Sarang: Affairs of a Woman’s Heart] In my dreams, he and I lived happily ever after –Touring Europe and Africa, living in that small cozy house with a large backyard lined with sakura trees, with 3 children because I talked him down from his crazy number of 25 and happy. In our happy ever after, we’d argue but we’d manage to make up, we’d compromise, we’d be together and that is more than enough.

“I hate you,” he didn’t mean it, not really but, he thought if he said it out loud it would become reality. But, looking at the ceramic blue urn holding what was left of her and the large black and white portrait of her smiling brightly down at him, he knew he never would. “I hate…I hate that you took away my chance to be by your side and to say goodbye.” Truth was he still loved her deeply, it was the only way it would hurt to lose her all over again. It didn’t make him love his wife any less, nor regret their life together because it gave them Jiyool.

But, some loves never faded and it seemed like Summer’s and his love was one of those.

[I don’t expect your understanding or forgiveness for what I did, I know I hurt you and took from you the ability to choose. But, I didn’t want you to watch me fade away –as selfish as it may sound. Live happily with Ara and Jiyool, I only wish you love and happiness.

Goodbye~~

Summer XO]

--~*+*~-:-The End-:-~*+*~--

Authors note: Another angst-filled one shot, with character death and everything. I couldn’t put the character death in the warnings because it would give away the plot. The Summer of ’69 party is where they met, and there love was a whirlwind of randomness that was just like the real 1969 summer with zero inhibition.

[Notice] Cancer isn’t something to take lightly and I hope this story didn’t paint it as such –Some survive, some have to battle it more than once, others don’t survive. Reactions to the disease also vary, and I think some can be positive and embrace life despite their diagnosis which I hope you got.

Inspiration: the outfit I envisioned for Sooyoung at the party is #14 on this page. My Sassy Girl inspired the story a little bit.

Please take the time to comment, subscribe or up vote if you like the story. It is after all for a competition. Thank you for giving it a read.