you go out of tune sometimes

The mind will remember what the heart can never forget.

i. Polaroids

The long, bizarre dream is lost as Dani wakes up to a new day. The room is still the same; cream walls, close curtains, smell of strong black coffee and a consistent, stable breathing. She sits up, wondering what day it is, and spots a messy pile of blankets beside her. She extends her fingers, touching the cold sheets, and lifts it up. The breathing she hears becomes louder. Dani smiles as she brings her light fingers over the sleeping figure, watching his chest rise and fall. She traces his beautiful cheekbones with her forefinger, admiring the bone structure. Her eyes fall on his lips, thin yet curvy. Her smile widens when she sees his eyes open very slowly.

Jongdae eyes her slowly, afraid that he is a second too late. Time is crucial, and he is dumb to waste it by closing his eyes. He watches her smile, and he thinks it’s of recognition, so he smiles back. “Good morning.”

She giggles, “Good morning, Jongdae.” She notices him sigh, in relief, she guesses.

Jongdae runs a hand through his hair. “I love listening to your voice.”

Somehow, somewhere in the midst of the blooming love, she had gotten used to the compliments.

“One thing,” Jongdae purses his lips, “Flowers.”

Dani smiles, leaning to him and pecks on his cheeks, “Forget-me-nots. Tiny, plain, elegant; for fidelity and remembrance.”

The man nods his head in approval, and eyes her again. He feels like he’s never getting enough of her, and today, the world is simply a beautiful piece of life they get to share with each other.

“Do you remember where you want to go today?” He asks her, and smiles when she nods. “To babysit Luhan’s baby brother.”

She stands up, and pulls a piece of Jongdae’s clothing from the floor—remembering how hastily she took it off from him the night before, and puts it over her head. “Are you still singing for Baekhyun’s birthday this tuesday?”

Jongdae frowns, “I forgot about that.” She laughs, and moves to open the closet. She scrunches her nose to the smell of mothballs, and pulls a white dress out of the closet. “Does this look alright?”

“You look like a bride.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she stops halfway out of the room, “I love you, Jongdae.”

He grins, “You don’t have to tell me every day.”

“I do,” she insists, “I would tell you a million times in case—“

“It’ a beautiful day, Dani,” he cuts her off, and she obliges, noticing, “Go bathe while I make you breakfast.”

“Pancakes!” She calls from outside the room.

“I know, baby,” he smiles, “I know.”

-

Jongdae sneaks at her eating pancakes before he rushes to the bathroom. Today is another day, and he will not waste a second away from her. The sun is up, the heat is comforting, but she can’t last a day without coffee. Damn, he forgot to make her coffee.

“Jongdae,” she links her arm with his, “You forgot—“

“Coffee,” he sighs, “We’ll pass by Minseok’s coffee shop on our way to Luhan’s.”

Dani nods. They get in the car, and drive smoothly across the city of Seoul. Often times, Jongdae would glance at Dani, amused at her expressions as she sees the buildings—but now, he is anxious. His hands are firm on the steering wheel, but his eyes diverts from the streets to Dani’s face. He takes in every feature of her face like he would instantly forget about it when he looks away. But he cannot just forget about her face. It’s the same as singing the words to the songs you once loved so badly—you just know it.

“Don’t be afraid, Jongdae,” Dani says, noticing how frequently Jongdae eyes her when he should be focusing on driving them safely to Minseok’s, “I know this place quite well.”

“I know, I know that,” Jongdae gulps, upset, “But I’m just—“

“Scared, I know,” Dani answers.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are,” Dani insists, “You’re scared that any moment now, I’ll snap. But I won’t, not today.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Dani smiles at him, and he notes the sincerity and reassurance in her smile.

So he nods, deciding to change the topic, “Since when did you last see Sehun?”

“Since, well, they visited me two months ago.” She seems to notice how Jongdae changed the topic, and she is happy. Luhan is Jongdae’s cousin, a college student who survives by working as an assistant at their university’s library. He gets up with the sun, leaves a cup of milk by his brother’s table, a kiss, and a promise to meet him by the end of the day. He comes home to find his brother sprawled on the living room, a messy pile of coloring books surrounding him. Throughout the day, five-year old Sehun is with Kyungsoo, or sometimes Joonmyeon, but today, Dani and Jongdae is keeping watch of the young baby.

Jongdae stops the car in front of the café. The glass windows are misty, and they spot Minseok wiping the condensation off of his windows. The couple look at each other, and exit the car. Jongdae hurries to Dani’s side, sliding his arm on her waist. The bell rings, and Zitao and Yixing, the baristas, look to the door. They smile when they see their favourite costumers coming over for a hot cup of coffee. “Good morning,” Zitao chirps, but instantly freezes and eyes Dani. Yixing and Minseok are silent, holding their breaths.

Dani smiles at them, “Good morning guys. Nice to see you again.”

They chuckle in relief as Minseok jumps in front of Dani and Jongdae, shaking their hands, “Good morning. Where are you off to?”

“We’re babysitting Sehun today,” Jongdae answers, and leads Dani to the counter, where Zitao hastily prepares the couple’s usual orders, “The weather’s good today, isn’t it?”

“Beautiful,” Minseok agrees, “I bet the boy misses you right now, Dani.”

 “I know he does,” Dani laughs, “It’s been—how long since I’ve been here?”

“Three weeks,” Yixing shouts across the room, “Your pictures are still here, in case you’re wondering.”

Dani’s eyes brighten, and she hurries to where Yixing is. She sees several Polaroid pictures, all taken at the café. Minseok lets them celebrate birthdays, supports the mopes of broken hearts and endures stress. That corner of the café is where all the pictures are pasted together, to be immortalized and be remembered. Leaning over, she picks one and reads the caption.

Jongin’s birthday, January 14, 2010.

She smiles, running her fingers at the edges of the Polaroid. She is happy she remembers everything.

“I got what we ordered,” Jongdae calls. She turns from the pictures and sigh. Yixing smiles at her, “You keep that.”

She stares at him, “Really?”

Yixing nods. “You’re a good friend, Dani. A good part of everyone’s life—I know I’m saying this in behalf of everyone else, we’ll be very happy if you’d look at that picture often.” Dani smiles at him, and pulls him into a hug. She thanks him, Minseok and Zitao, and catches Jongdae’s hand as they exit the café.

“Now,” she says, “Let’s visit Sehun.”

-

Dani is never the patient one, but five-year old Sehun is the exception. Sehun runs to her and tackles her with a hug, knocking them both to the ground. Dani carries Sehun into the house, Jongdae following behind them, trying to wipe off the dust on Dani’s dress. Sehun spills coffee on Dani’s dress, staining the pearly white dress with bits of brown and black. Jongdae holds his patience, but Dani is happy. She jokes Sehun, saying she’s mad at him and will not visit him again. Sehun is close to tears, and Dani laughs, pinching the boy’s cheeks. Jongdae looks at them, smiling.

Sehun nestles in between Jongdae and Dani. Dani rests an arm under her head, her other hand tracing Sehun’s features, grinning all the while. Jongdae rests his head on his hand, eyeing both the baby and Dani.

“He remembers me,” Dani comments, eyes not leaving Sehun’s face.

“You remember him,” Jongdae replies. Both are silent for a long time, Dani’s eyes on Sehun, Jongdae’s on Dani’s. “Do you remember where we are planning to go tomorrow?”

Dani nods, “Hospital.”

“You hate the hospital,” Jongdae adds. He does, too. He hates how it brings joy and sorrow at the same time.

“It makes me feel weak,” Dani says, “It reminds me that I have a time limit. It tells me that I’m surviving, not living. There’s a difference,” she eyes Jongdae.

“You are living every day. Every day you see the people that mean something to you and it will work.”

“I’m a bomb waiting to explode,” she whimpers, “All I need is a trigger to get the nerves to malfunction. All I need is some physiological or psychological stress, then, my life’s gone.”

Jongdae looks down. Today is supposed to be about keeping her happy, not upset.

“Imagine the difference, Jongdae, between a dead person and a ghost. The dead is just there—solitary. The ghost gets to do everything it wants, but nothing at the same time. It has no purpose.”

Jongdae grits his teeth, “I’d rather have you here than lose you.”

“Then, when it happens, I won’t have any purpose anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Jongdae eyes her sadly, conveying to her the message he wanted her to know, “I’d rather have you, bruised and recovering, but alive. I’d have you.”

Dani smiles, the tears in her eyes not of pain, but joy. She is happy because everything is fine. Jongdae makes everything better.

“I love you, Jongdae.”

“I love you,”Jongdae kisses her and pulls away, “That is the only thing you should not forget.”

“I will never forget that,” she eyes him, “Sing for me.”

“I don’t sing,” Jongdae looks down and Dani purses her lips.

Years in highschool stuck with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, both having potential singing careers, Jongdae was happy and hopeful. The band they formed was going somewhere, near the foot of the mountain of fame, when Jongdae made a mistake. Wrong strings of chords escaped from his singing mouth, and the song was damaged. He was out of tune for two seconds, and the band was gone. Kyungsoo pursued college, Baekhyun auditioned as an idol and passed; Jongdae found a job and swore to never sing again.

“You do. You still do. I hear you vocalize every morning when you take a bath.”

“You’re eavesdropping!” Jongdae accuses, though he is not surprised.

“I listen to you with every chance I get,” she smiles shamelessly, “I feel as though I could never get enough of your voice. So please, sing for me. Just this once.”

So Jongdae sings. He sings for the girl eyeing him. He sings for the memories they share. He watches her close her eyes, her lips curves into a smile as she listens to the lyrics. She loves hearing his voice so round, so full. In that moment, Jongdae sees his future wife, their unborn child and the future that is yet to happen. It makes him happy.

Jongdae sings for love.