In Constant Stars
06 -- c a f f e i n e

“You do realise that instead of staring intensely at me all this while, you could have also just said hi?”

I had wanted to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. I wanted to play things cool, but then again, being caught staring wasn’t something one could easily brush off as a mere fluke. It wasn’t easy to make me flush in embarrassment, but when he looked down at me in amusement, I couldn’t help the rush of blood to my cheeks.

“Can I sit here?” the boy asked me. I estimated him to be at least two years older than I was. Heeyoung probably knew him, but she wasn’t around for me to ask her.

The spot he was referring to was actually where Heeyoung’s mother had sat just before she rushed off to greet an important business partner. A part of me thought it would be rude of me to give her seat away. A bigger part of me wanted to talk to him.

“No matter my response I have this feeling you will sit here anyway.”

He showed me a crooked grin and sat down as I hoped he would. “Is there any particular reason why you kept your gaze on me so intently just before?”

“I realised I’ve never seen you around before, which would mean that you’re new here.”

“Or perhaps you’ve never noticed me before?”

“Oh no,” I answered, taking a sip from my tea. “I would have. I’ve been around long enough to know who’s who.”

“You still seem fairly young to me to understand the relationships going on here though. Are you very sure?” he asked me cockily.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I thought he was hardly an adult himself. What made him believe that he could degrade me based on my age?

The boy burst out in good-natured laughter as he held out his hands in surrender. Right that moment, everything about him drew me in; his straight, white teeth, the way his eyes took on the shape of moons, his friendly behaviour despite the cold shoulder I’d given him. “Alright, alright, so the age card wasn’t very nice of me. But I couldn’t help it, since you’re trying to test me here too.”

I was silent in surprise. He had realised that my cold, direct demeanour had originated from my wish to see what kind of person he was. He called it testing. I supposed it was a kind of test.

“So, am I right? You are new here, aren’t you?”

He took a moment to look at me and ask himself if he actually knew me, his smile never really leaving him. “I suppose I am. I try not to come to this kind of meetings too often. They used to nauseate me constantly.”

“And what, exactly, would make this party any different from the ones that you seem to dislike so much?”

Before he got the chance to answer, Kang Miyoung returned. Pleased with seeing me interact with someone other than Heeyoung at one of her parties, she gushed on and on until I could finally understand what she said: “Oh Minhyuk, this is Choi Nana. I’ve told you about her before, haven’t I? She’s Heeyoung’s best friend. I think it would be accurate to say that she’s probably the reason why my daughter isn’t in jail yet. Nana, this is Lee Minhyuk. He is Lee Minsik’s son and also happens to be well acquainted with Heeyoung.”

Ah. So this was Minhyuk. Apparently this was the guy who Heeyoung would call whenever I got the chance not to attend another luncheon she wanted to drag me along to. She would demand him in a fashion that was very much like her to keep her entertained. It was her mannerisms on such moments that had earned her the nickname of ‘Princess’ from friends, contrary to popular belief stating that she was called so because of the way her parents liked to spoil her.

I imagined that his eyes had mirrored mine, as they twinkled in delight upon the realisation of each other’s identity. For the first time that evening, I smiled. Heeyoung’s mother went on telling me about Minhyuk in a way that made me suspect that she was trying to set us up. I had no clue why she would do that, but I sure as hell didn’t mind.

“Well, that was something else entirely,” Minhyuk muttered as Miyoung turned her back to us to talk to other guests of hers. “Though I must say I prefer getting to know others directly, instead of having a guide speak for them.”

“She means well,” I said sternly.

For some reason that only caused for his smile to broaden. He scooted over a little closer, until our legs were almost touching. I found that I didn’t want to do anything to regain our original distance.

“I understand. And in any other situation I wouldn’t have minded some friendly chattering. It’s just that she interrupted our conversation and I actually want to resume that. But the thing is that you’ll probably think I thought up a very corny line in the meanwhile, even though it’s something I've wanted to tell you from the beginning.”

I cocked up an eyebrow in confusion. What was he talking about?

“You see, Choi Nana. You asked me why this party was any different from the usual parties I don’t like to attend. Bluntly put, the reason is actually because I had the privilege of meeting you.”

That was really all it needed for me to hold my breath without me realising so. Who was this guy? Was this something I had expected the moment he’d caught my eye? Was it common for attractive boys such as Minhyuk to be so direct?

“I, uh… It really does sound like a line.”

He chuckled. His laugh sounded very nice. Despite the background noise of rich people babbling the night away just like Heeyoung’s mother had done with us just a moment ago, I felt like his voice was the only thing I could listen to that evening. Minhyuk looked back to me, reached out a hand to tuck a strand of my hair behind my left ear. The gesture felt so familiar that it didn’t even register what he’d done until he retracted his hand.

“But that’s the thing. It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

At a certain point in their life, everyone meets that one person who changes them entirely. For me, that was Minhyuk. Minhyuk to me was the enigma he didn’t want to be. It was obvious from the moment we’d first met that we were completely different from each other. We weren’t meant to work out, yet we still tried.

Lee Minhyuk was another one of the rich kids Heeyoung had associated herself with (just like Youngjae and Himchan), simply for the reason that they had that one thing in common: they were forced to comply with the pretentiousness of society and they hated it. Minhyuk moved out of his parental house the very first day after his 18^th birthday and he could legally take care of himself. However, unlike Heeyoung, he never rebelled against his father, who was a famous architect in Seoul. 

Despite hating his position as an elite family’s child, he loved being at the receiving end of attention, which was the sole reason he could cope with attending fancy dinner parties and business meetings such as the one where we met once again.

The moment I’d first laid eyes on him, the initial thought that went through my mind was that he seemed like the kind of person you could easily fall in love with. The second was that that was exactly the kind of person I needed in my life. Perhaps that first bit of contact between him and me had already been the moment where it went wrong. Maybe, in retrospect, the fact that I’d already decided for myself that Minhyuk would be the one I would fall in love with was a sign that we were bound to strand along the way.

Sometimes I would wonder what exactly it had been that had attracted me to him the most of all things I could think of. Every time, I would conclude that his eyes were the ones that always been the most important to me, despite the fact that I also admired the way he held himself with his posture, his confidence and carefree attitude to life that I couldn’t copy. It had always been his eyes that were the most outspoken part about him; the part that had told me from the very beginning that I was welcome.

Our differences were so big that it challenged me to bring out the parts of myself that I didn’t even know existed. His will to make others around him happier so badly had made me appreciate my surroundings more. His hardworking and motivated nature had brought out my inspiration for living well. I had been convinced for long that he was exactly what I needed to be happy. There was even a point that I thought Minhyuk was all I would ever need for anything.

It was when we started seeing each other less and less that the addiction slowly faded into a weak adoration of our memories rather than of himself. Minhyuk had a wish and I was the one who kept him from fulfilling it all the while. I’d been aware that he had a knack for entertainment and a passion for music that rivalled Heeyoung’s. It was potential waiting to burst. He wanted to showcase his talents and I was the one who held him back.

Until I let go.

It was unreal to see him make friends with Himchan and Youngjae in front of my eyes so easily, when the last time we’d seen each other was back in June, during Heeyoung’s mother’s birthday dinner party. Even then, we didn’t say much to each other. Kang Miyoung, in turn, was crestfallen to see for her own eyes that the pairing she was so convinced she’d put together had really broken up.

“— turned out pretty good. Nana always tells me that too, right Nana?”

I was pulled back to reality again as I felt a hand lightly touch the small of my back, the signature move Minhyuk would pull to get me engaged in a conversation every time he realised I was dazing off in my thoughts. Even that side of his hadn’t changed, despite everything.

I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about so I just nodded with a hesitant ‘Hm-hm’, which Himchan and Youngjae didn’t read too much into, thankfully. It was only when Heeyoung couldn’t stand the building tension and subtly pulled both away along with her, that Minhyuk said smugly: “You do realise that you just agreed that the cocktails I make are good?”

I cringed immediately. “God, no, your cocktails are traumatising.”

“Are you sure? I believe you did think my piña coladas were okay.”

“Yeah, I did. Until you told me that they weren’t technically yours but just cheap bottled ones from the supermarket, you cheat.”

He sat on the bar stool next to mine, a happy smile on his lips.

“So like, what? Did you offer to make them cocktails or something? Because if you did, I’m pretty sure I have to warn them beforehand for any unintentional or intentional poisoning.”

“No, that was just me making friendly talk with your friends.”

“They’re not really my friends though,” I said, shrugging and downing the last bit of my iced tea. “We’re more like… acquaintances?”

“Well, that Himchan guy sure seemed like he wanted to be more than just acquaintances and friends,” his almost immediate response sounded. I looked at him in slight shock. He almost sounded jealous, but why would he be?

“That’s just how he is to a lot of people…” Cue nervous laugh. “I actually hardly know him.”

“I see.”

I realised that he hadn’t wanted for me to hear him mutter the bit about Himchan, which was why he was now looking at anything but me, his pose strikingly similar to that of an awkward school boy’s. It was an image of him that I’d never seen before and I was yet again reminded how much five months could change a person.

I bit my bottom lip. Congrats, Nana, you can keep up a normal conversation for about two minutes before it turns into another epitome of pure awkward again. That’s got to be a record.

Minhyuk was looking over my shoulders and I turned back to follow his line of vision. A woman looking like she was in her fifties was waving him over in a friendly way. “Another adult about to tell me off for not going to college to study architecture. ‘What a shame that you’re not following in your father’s footsteps, yada yada.’ Got to go, Nana. It was nice seeing you again.”

I nodded but I couldn’t quite manage saying anything.

He was about to turn away when he seemed to remember something. He reached out with his hand. For a moment I thought that he was going to touch my cheeks, but instead he patted me over my head. It made me recall how he had always taken good care of me because he thought he had to do so just because he was older by three years. For the first time that evening, I was really able to look him in the eye without flinching away in embarrassment.

“Hey, I’d like to catch up with you sometime soon. Properly. Grab a coffee together or something. Would that be okay?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

I got home half an hour before midnight. The sound of sharp whistles and men chanting in the background told me that Zelo was on the couch watching soccer. I couldn’t help but smirk at how typical that was, but I was too tired to make a smartass comment about it.

"Hey," I heard as I entered the living room.

I was still in my way too revealing dress. My brother eyed my outfit with one eyebrow raised, but he dropped it when I muttered: "Heeyoung's idea."

He muted the TV volume as I plopped down on the couch next to him. Offering me some of his candy, he asked: "How was it?"

"Too much perfume. It stank of rich everywhere. Also, ty dress. Himchan was terribly irritating, even more than normally. The drinks and snacks were very nice though. The usual." I took a handful of jelly beans. “Where’s Mum?”

“In her office, working. She managed sitting here with me for about ten minutes before she started stressing over some project and went back upstairs to make furious phone calls and blah blah. Haven’t seen her ever since.”

“Hmmm.” I popped a yellow jelly bean into my mouth as I watched the soccer game on the screen in front of us, not at all surprised by my mother’s inability to take a moment of pause for herself. “Ooh, Bayern’s doing well.”

“Yeah, surprisingly so. I didn’t think I’d ever see them beating Barcelona.”

“Still fourteen minutes left in the game though. Anything could happen.”

And anything almost happened. In the final five minutes, Barcelona was close to scoring the game-tying goal, but the referees called it offside. Great frustration was emitted from the Spanish team, resulting in a yellow card to one of their midfielders, which led to even more anger from the team, the coach and all the fans we saw on our screen.

“That’s it, they’re done for,” I said, getting up. “I’m going to change and make myself a coffee. You want?”

Zelo looked at me disbelievingly, asking: “You want to drink coffee? Now? It’s midnight!”

I shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. Coffee is coffee, meaning it’s always good, whether early in the morning or late at night.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

After changing into my pyjamas and a comfy sweatshirt, I returned with two freshly brewed espressos. I set mine on the table and handed one to Zelo, who took it without complaint, albeit slightly hesitantly. In the kitchen I poured a third one and took it upstairs.

My mother only responded after I’d knocked on the door to her office twice. “Come in.” Judging by her drowsy-sounding voice as she did so, I suspected that she’d accidentally fallen asleep while working.

“Hey. Auntie Miyoung said hi,” I said, entering her office. I used one of her old notebooks as a coaster for the hot cup.

She eyed it groggily, just before asking me in Japanese (which she only used whenever she felt too tired, angry or irritated to use Korean): “Are you serious?”

"I had a mentally draining evening. I needed caffeine in my system. I figured you would probably like some too,” I shrugged, not at all surprised by the fact that my little brother and my mother had reacted identically to my choice of drinks at this hour. “Hey, being addicted to coffee is better than me doing drugs or alcohol, isn’t it?”

She sighed.

“Is that my cue to leave?”

My mother just tiredly motioned for me to go away while nodding. Despite the fact that her current state worried me, I still felt relieved when I caught the slightest glimpse of a smile before I closed her door.

The TV was off when I came back downstairs. Zelo was still taking cautious sips from his espresso. He could have just poured it down the drain or left it for me to drink, but there he was. He groaned as I smirked down at him smugly before taking my own cup.

“I’m only listening to you because I was curious why for God’s sakes you would want this stuff in your body at this time.”

“Apart from the fact that I find it heart-warming to know that you are so invested in my interests, I would also like to remind you that you drinking your energy drinks or cola around this same hour would be just as bad, if not worse, little brother.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You just rolled your eyes.”

“Yeah. So?”

I frowned. “That’s such a sassy thing to do.”

Zelo frowned back. “Did you just call me sassy?”

“Sure did.”

I didn’t particularly care about whether rolling one’s eyes was really a sassy thing to do. I think Himchan rubbed off on me that night, because I felt like annoying others around me. And by the looks of it, I was quite good at that.

Instead of taking my old seat next to him, I plopped down on our love seat, slinging my legs over one of the armrests and leaning my back to the other. I enjoyed the warmth of the coffee slipping down my throat, causing a comfortable heat in my body.

I looked at my little brother, who had by then almost finished his cup while still munching on jelly beans. His eye-catching, blond dyed hair was in a state of uncombed messiness. He, too, was in his comfortable clothes, though he was still wearing a black snapback that I knew was once a gift from Heeyoung.

Zelo. Choi Junhong, actually. Almost 17 years old. A bit of a rebel, but not quite. Clever, but street smart rather than book smart. Open, spontaneous, yet also closed off once in a while. Surprisingly responsible considering his trickster actions at times. Passionate about the things he loved. He was everything I often wished I was; only I knew he was better at being him than I could ever be.

“This is nice,” escaped from my lips before I could stop myself.

“I know what you mean. Nights like this make things easier,” Zelo said to me, eye to eye. Before we could let that sudden topic switch settle in, he shifted gears again: “But seriously, this coffee is strong!”

And here’s the truth. He might have still been uncomfortable with the way things were. For what it mattered, I was too. The fact that I could be happy by irritating my family that night didn’t mean for sure that I would wake up the next morning all peachy with our screwed up situation. Perhaps tomorrow morning both Junhong and I would be so grouchy that we’d spontaneously go back to not communicating with each other at all again.

But believe me when I say that, when Zelo downed the last bit of his coffee and then muttered that he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore, I felt ecstatic that I could talk to him properly, even if it was just for a bit. And when we spent the night talking until three o’clock, idly chit-chatting and bickering like the siblings we used to be, I couldn’t think of a single word to describe how happy I was that, for just a moment, things seemed like they were kind of okay again.