In Constant Stars
11 -- i n t e n t i o n s

“Maybe I should just stop mentioning Daehyun to you at all. Why do you always have to sigh like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders whenever I ask you questions about him? You’re not Atlas, Nana.”

“I didn’t sigh.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did– Heeyoung, if you called me to argue like we’re back in kindergarten again, I’ll have to break it to you that I actually have better things to do.”

“Gee, don’t you sound like a busybody.  I originally wanted to call you to say that Himchan and I have made a deal with the venue’s janitor. He said that we could rent the sports hall on the 15^th, as long as we’re out by three o’clock at the latest after cleaning everything up. Since that’s an hour longer than we expected them to allow us, we just shook on that. But after we finished that, Himchan told me this interesting fact that he spotted you and Daehyun actually behaving – horrorshock – civilly to each other two days ago? You? And Daehyun?” Dramatic pause. “I just couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by to question your motives.”

I let out a long breath.

“Oh,” she said from the other side of the line, “there you go again, sighing.”

“Yeah, notice how I do that every time I have to deal with something tiring?”

“Nana dear, just as how you’re like my annoying conscience every time I want to do something quite possibly illegal, I feel that it is only justified if I prove my friendship to you in an equal way. You may find it irritating nagging right now, but you will be thankful to me for it later on. I mean, you stop me from ending up in jail and I make sure you confront yourself with things that make you sigh. So, ‘fess up. What’s the deal between you and Jung Daehyun?”

Long pause.

“Nana? Are you still with me?”

“Sadly yes.”

“Okay, great! So, answer me.”

“It’s actually kind of hard to explain. Daehyun and I kind of hated each other before, but now we actually talk to each other normally? Like, I still don’t say hi to him in the hallways and I definitely don’t expect him to do that to me either, but at least we… uh, tolerate each other?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it’s actually very confusing because I don’t know at all where we’re going with this. Are we even friends or not? Or does he want to be friends? He’s been acting all ice-and-fire with me the whole time, so right now I have no clue what to make of it. I mean, our relationship to each other right now is like a tangled mess, kind of like… I don’t know, a bale of wool or something?”

“… Right.”

“At least pretend you understand what I’m trying to convey to you.”

“I understand what you’re saying, more or less. It’s just your usual lack of poetic sense that once again underwhelms me. ‘A bale of wool’? Please just stay away from similes or metaphors in general. You at them.”

“Wow, thanks Heeyoung, I’ll keep your very useful advice in mind.”

“You’re welcome!” Silence in which she realises I was actually being sarcastic. “Fine. Be like that. I was about to make an intelligent observation but you just had to go and be ungrateful.”

“Your ways to get me curious are really cheap and childish.”

“Ooh, was that an unintentional alliteration? I am impressed, Nana.”

“Heeyoung.”

“Okay, so I’ve kind of noticed this about you lately and you’re not going to like it. Here goes: You talk an awful lot whenever I ask you about Daehyun. Don’t you find that an interesting fact? I know I do.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re doing that very unattractive, supposedly suggestive eyebrow wiggling right now.”

“I am indeed doing my, excuse you, attractive eyebrow wiggling because we both know that I’m very much right. You’ve got the hots for him, don’t you?”

“’Have the hots for him’? Who even uses that term nowadays?”

“I do and don’t act like you’re actually up to date with what’s trending right now. You practically live under a rock when it comes to the laws of communication.”

“Gee, thanks.”

"By the way, you also at steering our conversations away from topics you actually want to avoid."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"So you're not going to say anything about my observation at all?"

"Nope."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"You're such a grade-schooler."

Heeyoung giggled. "At heart you're no better. That’s why the two of us being friends works so well."

We both knew that that was the truth.

Jinae's hair was in one of those perfectly messy buns that made you wonder for ages how she'd reached that perfect balance of firm and messy when it came to tying her hair. Especially with her locks reaching down to her waist, I thought that the fact that she'd tied her hair up in a bun at all was very impressive.

Even as we were working on our assignment, I was distracted by her hair. I was having serious issues. Since when did I find others' hair styles interesting?

Then again, I was holding on to everything that could possibly distract me. I'd had this unsettling feeling in my stomach from the moment I entered her house to work on our project again. One of the first things we talked about was the fact that Daehyun and I had kind of made up, because I figured that would clear an awkward atmosphere if there would have been one. I found that it did help a lot, but then again in turn it was like someone had slammed me with my shoulders down to the ground and then stopped me from getting up. I figured labelling that person as either my 'conscience' or 'guilt' was pretty accurate. When I was fighting with Jung Daehyun, things were bad. When I was getting along with him, things were worse.

Jinae was happily writing her part of our final essay, whilst I was busy with figuring out the technique she'd used with her hairband to tie her hair up that way.

"You know," she suddenly murmured without looking up, causing for me to almost drop my pen in surprise. "I don't know why you and Dae fought, but it's a relief that you guys seem to get along again. I don't have many friends, you see, but I think you're really nice. I just want everyone I like to get along. Is that too selfish?"

Jinae thought that she was selfish. If only she knew. Daehyun didn't deserve her. I wasn’t worthy.

What I did next was something I always looked back to with many questions, all of them starting with the words What If. Even in that moment, I hadn’t been sure what exactly I was doing. All I knew was that I had many unanswered questions and that I was probably going to feel more satisfied if I knew at least a part of the truth. So, without thinking about the consequences – thinking about how knowing this could entirely change the way I looked at Daehyun forever – I asked: “Jinae, mind if I ask… how did you and Daehyun meet?”

She was surprised by my sudden question, but soon that look was replaced by one of utter happiness. With a fond smile, she said: “We go way back, actually. When I was eight years old, one morning I woke up to my mother telling me that we had new neighbours from Busan. And from then on, he was just there, you know? We became friends and we had each other’s backs. Dae was always there whenever I was in a pinch and I tried to help him the most I could too. Everyone around us used to say that we were like twins, because we were always together.”

I had the entire picture perfectly envisioned in my mind. Little Daehyun and Jinae playing at each other’s houses, walking home together from school or having innocent sleepovers because one of them got too scared from watching horror movies that their parents had strictly told them not to watch.

“People don’t always know this about Daehyun, but he’s actually very helpful by nature. He always helped out my mother with moving heavy things or setting the tables. I was too much of a brat to do the things that I was supposed to do, so he did them. I always thought that he wanted to be polite or make a good impression or something like that, but the truth was that he never had any other intention than to help her. And soon I realised he didn’t just do that with people close to him, but also with strangers.”

She told me the story of how Daehyun had once joined a street performer who was playing a guitar. Daehyun just sang and impressed all of the people on the street. Every single person who walked by stopped to take a listen. Naturally, the performer’s hat was filled with coins and bills of money at the end of the song. He offered Daehyun part of the money, but Daehyun had shrugged and said: “I just did it for fun and I happened to like the song. You should keep the money and treat your family to a nice dinner or something.” And then he left.

“You’re right,” I said. Both of my eyebrows were still raised in surprise. “I really didn’t know he was like that.”

But as soon as the words left my mouth, I realised that that wasn’t the truth. I’d known very well that Daehyun was a helpful person. Our first meeting had been a proof of that. The way he hadn’t hesitated to offer me a tissue even though he knew that the reason I was crying was incredibly juvenile had said enough. Apart from that, I’d also given him plenty of reason to ignore me and yet he’d insisted on introducing himself to me and making sure that I wasn’t crying anymore when he went back to join his friends.

“That’s why I love him so much. He keeps surprising me, but never to the point that it’ll make me uncomfortable.” Jinae gave me a gummy grin full of pride.

It wasn’t long before the smile slowly faded away and made place for a broken-hearted look that she tried to hide by averting her eyes to the ground. “Even when my parents died, he was the one who suddenly said that he’d bought train tickets for me and that we were going somewhere far away. Somewhere where no adults would ask me difficult questions like how I was coping with my parents’ death or where there were no teachers who pretended I was a perfect student because they knew that I was an orphan.

“Daehyun knew and he understood. And with all of the pocket money that he’d saved to buy a new bike, he bought us two train tickets to Busan. Because he remembered Busan as the prettiest place he’d ever seen. He promised me that he’d never leave my side. As pathetic as that sounds, that was the happiest I’d been since my parents died. And I knew… I realised that, if I didn’t have Dae, I probably wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

It was the way she sat there, both of her hands in clenched fists trembling on her legs, the way she didn’t want to look up at me until the moment that she was certain she wouldn’t let a single tear leave her eyes – that made me realise this: to Jinae, Daehyun was everything.

Everything clicked. Things made sense.

And that only fuelled my guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice uneven, her bangs still blocking my view of her face. “You only asked me one simple question and I got myself like this again, blabbering to you about things that probably make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

What happened after that was very similar to the situation back when Jinae had first told me about her parents. I hadn’t had a clue what to say to her. Saying sorry seemed half-hearted, yet at the same time it was the only sensible thing to do. Even now it was. Yet, as the awkward person I was, I opted for silence. Only because I thought maybe Jinae was the kind of person who would appreciate distance over a wavering apology.

I had frustratingly little understanding of her as a person. She’d told me a lot about herself, but it still felt more often than not like I still only knew a very small part of her. As terrible as this sounded, it was like back in grade school, when being friends entailed knowing others’ favourite colours and favourite animals. Knowing things, but simultaneously understanding so very little of a person. The only difference was that back then, it didn’t matter. Now it made me feel helpless.

This time she didn’t act too cheerful to pretend that everything was alright. By then she was already aware that I didn’t really buy that pretence and I was glad that she didn’t bother with it. I ended up doing most of the talking and even in my ears everything sounded too mechanical.

It was only when I left that I noticed that she hadn’t only dropped the cheerful act – she’d completely given up on keeping her mind focused on the situation at all. She barely budged when I wavered in my step because I was dizzy getting up too fast. Her final goodbye to me was very small and soft.

To say that I was worried would have been an understatement. Saying that I wasn’t feeling guilty would have been a lie.

Yoo Youngjae finally said what everyone had been thinking, but hadn’t voiced out loud for the past few days: “Nana, you really need to chill out, go home and rest.”

He’d kind of caught me dozing off at History, which was very unlike me. Time spent at school was something I saw as precious. Everything I learnt during those periods of time was all I would have handed to me on a silver platter and I was determined to make the most out of that. The fact that I had spent that time semi-sleeping instead of studying and paying attention as usual was a very surprising thing, even though I wasn’t ready to admit that just yet.

“What makes you think that?” I asked with feigned surprise. It sounded almost real.

Youngjae raised both of his eyebrows and stared at me for a few counts before remarking: “You’re really going to pretend that you’re fine.”

“There’s no pretending here,” I lied through my teeth.

“Just for your information, Heeyoung and I agree that you have been looking like an undead geisha and as fascinating as I find geishas, I still think I like you better looking like yourself. In fact, we agreed to send you home the moment you would show a sign of being overworked, so here we are.”

“What?” I stopped walking beside him to take one hard look at him.

He turned back, both of his hands nonchalantly placed in the pockets of his uniform pants, his expression as neutral as he could keep it.

“Overworked?”

Youngjae shrugged. “Yeah, overworked. Don’t tell me that you don’t think so. Your whole schedule is packed from the moment you wake up until the moment you go to bed.”

“That’s not true! I only work during the weekends and three afternoons during the week. It’s not that much.”

He sighed and, as he shook his head, he muttered something along the lines of: “This kid is unbelievable.” Then, he got out his fancy-looking phone from his right pocket and continued to ignore me for a few seconds as he furiously typed away on his phone. Then, when he was done, he held it up to me. Heeyoung’s name was written in big white letters at the top of the screen, with an exchange of texts underneath:

Youngjae: You were right, she’s denying it

Heeyoung: told ya. where are you rn? i’ll just get her to my place and babysit her until she’s finally had some rest.

Youngjae: Corridor with the lockers near the cafeteria

Heeyoung: kay. wait a sec, i’m coming.

“That’s it? You’re putting me on a house arrest?” I asked disbelievingly. I threw out my hands and almost hit a freshman and dropped my bag in the process. “Don’t you think I’m just a little too old for that?”

“The fact that you’re struggling so much with the idea of being told off for your health says enough, Nana.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, even as he took my bag like I was too young/frail/overworked/dangerous-to-freshmen to carry it myself. “Need I remind you again that you’re younger than I am?”

He rolled his eyes. “Only by five months. That hardly counts as ‘younger’, especially since you and I both know that you’d cringe to death if I ever called you noona.” Which was the truth.

Heeyoung joined us at that moment in her perky, energetic mode. She looked at me from all angles like I was a statue, only to conclude that ‘I looked terrible indeed’, to which I could of course only respond with a sarcastic thanks. She was too busy conspiring with the other traitor to notice that.

“Alright, you’re coming with me, Nana. No buts.”

“But –” I pointedly ignored her frown, “– I need to work. And we were supposed to plan Zelo’s birthday before my shift, remember that?”

She held out her hand as she muttered with a dangerously low volume: “Phone. Now.”

I recognised that voice. It was the one she always used when talking to her parents, which mostly meant during dialogues of endless whining or threats of another prank that her parents weren’t likely to care much about. To her family, that tone didn’t mean much anymore, but I knew better than to ignore the lingering danger in it. From the moment I handed her my phone, I knew she was going to get her way.

She typed in the code to my phone while Youngjae looked at the screen over her shoulder and then gazed at me with amusement. “Why am I not surprised that you used Zelo’s birthday as your unlock code?”

“Told you. Nana’s got a serious case of brother complex.”

“Bite me,” I growled, but Heeyoung was already calling Mrs Hwang to tell her that I wasn’t fit for working. Apparently my boss still hadn’t forgotten my incidents earlier that week, when she had to send me back home early, which would explain why she easily agreed to having me take that afternoon off. I bit the insides of my cheek to hide my frustration. I wasn’t likely to keep my job at Corner if things kept going this way, even though I really liked working there.

As I’d expected, everything went smoothly for Heeyoung from that point on. She successfully managed to sneak us out of the building after saying goodbye to Youngjae. It was by lunchtime and it was actually pretty amazing how she’d succeeded at slipping us by the watchful eyes from teachers on the lookout for students who wanted to skip classes (like us).

When we arrived at the Kang mansion, she immediately ordered for me to go to the usual guestroom that I stayed in and I did without a word of protest. By then I’d realised as well that I did need that rest. For the past few days, perhaps weeks, I’d been experiencing the same high stress levels combined with a constant fatigue haunting me. I looked into the mirror of the guest bathroom and saw that my skin was a ghostly pale shade, at the same time wondering how I had reached this point without realising anything myself.

This is the thing about the word ‘help’, whether it’s helping others or helping yourself. There’s never a definite start or finish line. It’s hard to tell when you need to be helped just like how it can be hard to know when you need to help someone else. Sometimes people are so good at hiding their true feelings, that it’s difficult to tell when they’re getting into a spiral that they don’t know how to get out of by themselves. Others are so eager to receive aid that people stop looking back to them.

Everyone is different and everyone receives and gives help in their own way. Jinae, for example, didn’t quite know to what extent she could trust anyone. She wanted to, but she was having second thoughts. Daehyun was too eager to help, but his intentions weren’t always received in the same friendly way that he actually deserved. As for Heeyoung… well, she was forceful, as she wasn’t one to lose her goal out of sight, but in the end she still managed to do whatever it was she wanted to do for others.

And as for me, I wasn’t very sure what kind of person I was. I was stubborn, but at the same time also conforming. I wasn’t an easy person to give help to, because I quite obviously had no clue what I needed. At the same time I wasn’t a very sympathising person and therefore I had minimal understanding of other people’s feelings and needs. I wasn’t much of a giver, nor a receiver. I was kind of a no-good.

For a long while I thought that that was something I was probably just born with. But, as I lay in the bed in the ridiculously big guest room in Heeyoung’s house, with her sitting by my side and mockingly singing me a lullaby like I was four years old again, I realised this. Being a no-good , but it also meant that there was a lot of space for me to improve. Develop, so to say. And it just started with little things like accepting help, like the way I had done – though arguably – that day. And also with things like saying thank you and doing something small in return.

And so, even though I thought her methods were stupid, I still turned my head to face Heeyoung halfway through her song to thank her. She stopped singing and playing her ukulele to look at me with big eyes in surprise. Whether it was because she had expected me to still be angry or because of the gesture alone, I didn’t know. But oh well, as I fell asleep I couldn’t help thinking that her smile in response still made everything worth it.