Probably the only interesting class I ever attended was the one on the life and works of the great composer Ludwig van Beethoven. Although I had studied about him many years before attending the music school, just the mention of Beethoven could still make me beam in zealous admiration. It was hard for me to believe that a musician could keep composing such great music as well as keep performing in public without the most important utensil of music itself: the ability to perceive sound [A/N: For all those who don’t know, Beethoven became deaf during his later years]. Then again, in addition to his beautiful music, Beethoven was known for his appalling temper, so I guess that it all evens out at the end.

That’s another thing: equilibrium. I learned that everything is a balance. Life itself is a fragile balance between good and bad, pure and evil, happiness and sadness, and so on. As one end tips, karma will create enough weight on the other side to balance it out once again, and vice versa. Eventually, everything must be in equilibrium in order for survival and security. Ultimately, to live life happily, balance is a must.

Initially, conservatory life proved to be a simple balanced routine for me. I woke up at seven o’clock every morning and would be ready to go five minutes later. I would head off to the practice rooms and then practice until lunchtime.

Changmin kept his promise of still talking to me, which was extremely courageous on his part, I must admit. He was true to his word when he said that he still wanted to be my friend; he wanted to be friends with everybody. We would eat lunch in the practice room everyday (yah, yah, it was against the rules to be eating in practice rooms; so sue us) and talk about random things. It was always Changmin who did most of the talking, though. He was good at creating small conversations, unlike me who had a constant stuttering problem. Changmin would then leave at exactly two o’clock, and I would be left to practice for another couple hours before heading off to the library.

I always chose the same corner to read in, partly due to routine and partly due to this hope embedded in me that Yunho would just suddenly pop up again. Everyday, I hid myself behind books, once in a while peeking out through the cracks of the shelves in hopes of catching a glimpse of his dark brown hair.

Sometimes I would run into Junsu on the way. Although we never talked too much save for those polite greetings you would say to practically anybody, I felt no harsh feelings against him, and hoped that he had none against me. Of course, it was mostly because of pity on my part; I mean, wouldn’t you feel terrible for somebody who had to put up with an abusive boyfriend for four years? I never told him that I knew about it but, in the end, I had a feeling that Junsu figured out that I knew all about his morose relationship with Yoochun. His eyes told the whole story. His eyes told everything.

Unfortunately, running into Junsu meant running into Yoochun. No matter how many times I tried to talk myself into believing that he was a good guy, I just could not erase the picture of him standing above me while I was cringing from him on the floor of ‘his’ practice room. He looked like Satan himself. I always caught myself holding my breath as he passed by as he seemed to bore a hole of hatred right into me; sometimes it took several minutes for me to remember how to breathe again. I knew it was weak to be afraid of such a corrupt psycho, but standing up for myself is much harder than it is depicted in books, I’m afraid. Reality is no fairytale.

At exactly six o’clock, I would force myself to go to the cafeteria, and would get myself something to eat, usually just a bowl of half-cooked noodles. I always sat in the far right corner near a wide window, and frequently imagined a certain tall brown-haired man in a spiffy suit (cough-cough Yunho cough) passing through and grinning complacently at me.

I would always be back in my dormitory by eight o’clock, occasionally having Changmin as a visitor. Nothing too drastic happened during these times. He would mostly be using my computer and showing me websites that he found interesting, while I sat beside him quietly, pretending to be absorbing every word he said.

When Changmin was not with me, however, I would be writing daily emails to my family, mostly assuring them that everything was just fine and that everything was under control. Lies, basically.

“Hi Mom,

I received the mittens that you mailed out to me. They are absolutely adorable and I can’t wait to wear them during the winter when the wind becomes unbearable.

Everything is going great here; you should not be worrying about anything. The teachers are nice to me, the students are polite, the food is great, and the pianos are amazing. I finally found a job as an online tutor for middle school students where I can work at home; this is really great considering my lack of transportation money. It pays eight dollars an hour (not bad for somebody like me) and at the moment I have three students who are doing quite well.

Another thing! Professor Jung suggested that I try out for the Queen Elizabeth International Competition in Belgium! Isn’t that exciting?! He also indicated that if I am accepted, he would be willing to play the role as my ‘temporary legal guardian’ while we are there. If you do not object, I will be mailing out a recording to the competition headquarters for pre-competition screening.

I love you and miss you lots!

xoxo Jaejoong xoxo”

All of my emails were full of piteous lies, I knew that quite well, but I wanted my family to believe that I was still happy and enjoying my time. They were already worried enough about me as it was. “Stop worrying, start working” was always my motto.

During these times of solitude, I would predominantly be thinking about Yunho. He left me an email right before he left Korea, and I found myself reading it over and over again every night before going to bed. It was practically the only thing that kept me sane during these times of secluded loneliness:

“My dear Jaejoongie,

I am at the Seoul Airport now, a mere ten minutes before I have to board the plane to Japan. When the opportunity arises, you could visit the Japanese conservatory that I work in, and experience yet another facet of conservatory life. As you are aware, Japanese students are generally the most meticulous and accurate, and you can always depend on them to be the most detailed of all. You should listen to some of them play. It is really quite remarkable how amazingly conscientious they are.

Once you have sent in the recording (that is, if you have attained parental permission) I wish you best of luck with the pre-competition screening of the Queen Elizabeth Competition, but remember that this is the easier part. During the competition weeks, you will find that everything will spin out of control; I should know as I have firsthand experience of it. My advice is just to work hard and do your best; that’s practically the only thing a competitor could possibly do.

I will be back in a month once I manage to patch things up in Japan. Practice hard and try not to miss me too much.

With love,

Yunho”

Oh, how I missed being called “Jaejoongie” and how I missed his little acts of affection! I did not doubt that they meant nothing to him but everything to me: a financially stable middle-aged man like him would not—should not—even glance at a mere teenager who was still in school with hardly a penny to spend.

I missed him nonetheless. I couldn’t help it.

My life was satisfactorily stable, as I hoped it would be. I had a steady routine, a healthy lifestyle, and an agreeable though clandestine friendship with Changmin. On the other hand, my life was inevitably boring with hardly any change in schedule, and the hair at the back of my neck still stood up pin-needle straight whenever I caught a glimpse of Yoochun.

Yet I knew that it was all alright. After all, that was why my life was so balanced: it was not meant to be perfect.

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This is part one of Jaejoong's time without Yunho.

I have gotten emails on how this fanfic could possibly be based on a true story, and have decided that once it is completed, I will summarize the true story of it as an author's note. You readers will decide whether or not it matches up =)