Through Muddy Water

Chapter 12: Slipping

Never before had the F4 gathered as one group in the studio and despite the open floor plan, four heirs plus GaEul made it seem uncomfortably crowded. Uneasy, YiJung anxiously paced the floor and supervised rather than joining his comrades at the large tables.

At the first, JiHoo sat quietly focused. His long fingers gently caressed the clay he’d been given. The violinist was living proof that music and art often went hand in hand. Just across the table however, it was an entirely different story. The intense ball of frustration known as JunPyo was also busy, fighting with his lopsided lump of materials. Every so often there came a pause followed by restrained huffs of discontent. “Aish! Even GaEul’s better at this,” he whined, pounding anything he’d begun flat in a fury.

“Ya JiHoo-ah, why didn’t you ever take up pottery?” WooBin called from the second table where he and GaEul both were seated.

The musician gave a small smile, refusing to be distracted by the others as he continued to work his clay into a recognizable shape. “This never matched the feeling that music gave me. Plus, it was already taken by someone. Perhaps GaEul should have though.”

 “Oh?” GaEul looked up at the mention of her name and scrutinizing the competition. “To be fair, I had a few classes.”

YiJung swallowed a laugh, knowing none of his friends looked even near ready to be bragging about their progress. If he had to choose based on the misshapen blobs in front of his friends, from what he could distinguish, JiHoo was probably doing the best of the four with GaEul close behind. The smell, sight, and feel of the clay made his fingers thirst for a chance to spin but he would never be able to in front of them all. Almost all of his pieces that meant anything had been created in the quiet of a late night or early morning when he was able to set free the emotions locked beneath his surface.

He lingered behind GaEul because she couldn’t see him grinning like an idiot from behind her head and also because from there he could watch her hands and smell her hair. She sighed, pursing her lips and blowing a strand of hair out of her way with exasperation. Seizing the opportunity, he reached around her and took her hands gently in his with a soft laugh. “You still put too much pressure on your wrist here.”

She ever so subtly leaned against him. He held her wrist steady and breathed in her scent. It had been a long time since he let someone get this close to capturing his heart and surprisingly he was enjoying every second of it.

 WooBin cleared his throat, eying them across the table with an amused look. YiJung let go, slightly embarrassed at his sudden lack of control in front of them all. He could only imagine how red GaEul’s face must have turned. Nonchalantly, he tried to make his way to the other table.

“Ya JunPyo, you have to be more gentle with it. Firm, but still gentle.”

Absorbed in his mess, JunPyo continued to manhandle his project with a steady stream of exclamations flowing from his mouth. “Aish… chincha?... Anyo- AISH!”

YiJung laughed, knowing his words were falling upon deaf ears. He decided that moving onward would be more productive than trying to teach the leader.

“You’re a bit timid JiHoo-ah. Care and finesse will make it pretty, but it also needs to be strong.” The musician nodded, tilting his head to view his work and contemplate the instructions he was given.

“This must be what it’s like for GaEul in the classroom. YiJung’s teacher, JiHoo’s the quiet focused one, GaEul’s the cute good girl and JunPyo’s the bratty student.” WooBin piped up.

 “Yah, am not.” JunPyo whined, giving up on making the pinch pot. “If I’m the brat then YiJung’s the handsome young teacher stealing the heart of his student.”

YiJung saw WooBin instantly lean back and dig his elbow into JunPyo’s side. Four years ago it might have pissed him off but not today. It had been a long time since his Casanova days and even his father’s words had faded as he worked abroad in Sweden. Even so, WooBin quickly collected the conversation, sending it in a different direction.

 “Remember when we were in kindergarten when we used to play with clay? YiJung was always the best even then and it made me jealous sometimes.” YiJung knew the words ran deeper than the friends realized. WooBin had always been jealous of their talents; jealous and painfully embarrassed of his own family’s background. He flashed a smile at his friend and received one back almost instantly in return.

“JunPyo used to hog all of the clay.” JiHoo broke his silence and murmured, just loud enough for his counterpart to hear.

“At least he didn’t try to eat it,” was the counter reply.

“Chincha?” GaEul piped up incredulously. “Who eats clay?”

“Yeah, who eats clay?” The three men asked simultaneously, zeroing their gaze on WooBin.

“Ya,” he laughed apologetically. “I was an adventurous child. I only wanted to try it once.” He sheepishly looked up with his hands spread.

“Just once…? Or twice.”

“Or maybe until the teacher put you in the corner.”

They all laughed heartily at the thought of prince song being sentenced to the corner by the kindergarten teacher.

“Well… I have a student who always wants to eat the paste during arts class.” GaEul offered in WooBin’s defense. Everyone chuckled merrily once more at this.

“See, not the only one.” WooBin stated matter of factly, bending back over his work.

There was a faint audible buzzing noise and JunPyo threw his hands up in frustration. “Aish!” He held his dirtied hands up like a doctor and stared at his pocket until WooBin had the sense to throw a towel at him. Slipping out the back door, he excused himself to take the call.

YiJung barely noticed him go, because he was once again entirely focused on GaEul and her pretty eyes.

***

He didn’t think anyone saw him slip out of the room, nobody usual caught on when he left anyways. JiHoo liked to think it was because it was a frequent occurance.

JunPyo was by the gate, looking out at the street.

“Business call?”

He spun on his heel and pocketed the phone quietly. “Ne.”

JiHoo studied his face, knowing that his friend was lying about the call. That much was obvious, but the reason why was not. “Everything alright?”

“Ne. Secretary Jung will take care of it.”

“Good.” They stood there in silence surveying the stars. It was always outside under the night sky that they were able to open their hearts to each other. “JunPyo, you can’t fool me. What’s bothering you?”

He sighed, leaning against the cool metal. “The wedding.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“Anyo, JanDi… I love her and I want this- I just… I’m not enjoying the planning.”

“Well you do have a lot of other things to take care of.”

“It’s not stressful really it’s more- uninteresting? Anyo, that’s not it either. It’s just…” He clenched his jaw in frustration, fists also locked tightly. “I don’t know what it is.”

“Ya,” JiHoo breathed, leaning against the gate as well. “If it doesn’t feel right then maybe you should wait.”

The surprise on the president’s face was clearly evident in the moonlight. “But this is what she’s looked forward to,” he whispered.

JiHoo realized how inconsiderate he suddenly seemed towards JanDi’s feelings. “Is there something going on with you two?”

There was a heavy sigh. “Not really. We’ve been communicating a lot better now. I’ve really been trying to connect with her. I don’t think it’s an issue with us so much as…”

He trailed off before he said it. JiHoo looked down.

“JanDi’s so optimistic but I’m just having a really hard time. It doesn’t seem right- to have such a celebration in the middle of this. I’m not comfortable with the idea.”

“JunPyo. I know you want to make her happy but it will only hurt your relationship if you’re not a hundred percent sure you want to go through with this. If she loves you as much as I know she does then she needs to hear this from you.”

“Ne, I know.” JunPyo scuffed the edge of his toe against the pavement uneasily. “That’s the easy part, knowing. It’s the unknown that follows that’s scary.”

***

The atmosphere was considerably quieter with just three bodies. YiJung looked up at the clock, already feeling tired despite sleeping so late.

WooBin spread his arms in a lazy stretch. “What are those guys up to?”

“Not sure.”

“Araso, I’ll go find out.”

With just himself and Gaeul left, YiJung was able to settle down, his hands expertly kneading out clay.

“You don’t usually like us to watch.” She said quietly.

“I know.” He answered with a short sentence, hoping she wouldn’t push the issue. No such luck.

She leaned over the table to peer into his eyes. “Gwaenchana?”

He looked up at her shining eyes with a half smile. “I guess I just… want to share this with you guys. Something that’s important to me so you can understand.”

She looked away and he felt his heart suddenly sink lower than her gaze.

“Wae?”

“Nothing,” was the reply. YiJung knew better than to take that at face value. One of the many rules of women, he knew quite well was never to underestimate the simple answer ‘nothing’.

He lowered his voice to her level, trying to find her eyes again. “GaEul, what did I do?”

“Nothing.” There it was again, God he hated that word.

“Anyo, it’s something. Wae? Why are you suddenly upset?” It was the second time today someone had suddenly become cold with him. Was he really being that insensitive?

She put her hands down, leaving clay palmprints on her jeans. For a moment she stayed still like that, staring at the wall before her. Then, she finally spoke. “I don’t like hearing you talk like that. When you say things like that it frightens me, so please just- don’t. Araso?” It was matter-of-fact, blunt, but riddled with emotion.

If it had been any other girl he would have stormed out. Nitpicky females were not his taste, but the way her voice wavered tugged at his heart.

“Mianhe,” he whispered, putting his hand gently on hers.

She didn’t shrug him off, but she didn’t warm up to him either. “I’ll be fine,” was the response as she continued to harshly form her bowl, her movements clumsy and rigid as she pinched the clay too tightly.

“Mianhe… mianhe… mianhe.” He apologized over and over until she took his hand in hers.

“Hajima. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

***

He could feel his phone ring in his pocket and he prayed nobody else could hear the vibration. WooBin covered the phone with his hand, cupping it close to his body. Anyone calling for casual reasons knew to hang up after one ring with the promise that the call would be returned in due time.

It rang again and is father was looking at him now, brow slightly furrowed. Stepping from the room as politely as he could manage he checked the screen, answering and whispering quickly into the phone.

“YiJung-ah gwaencanayo?”

“Ne, gwenchana.”

He sighed in relief, looking up at the ceiling. “You should be sleeping.”

“I tried.”

“GaEul?” He guessed, looking over his shoulder slightly. The meeting was still going on but he knew all the men would be wondering where he’d gone.

“Ne,” he heard the potter admit shyly.

“So call her.” He didn’t mean to be rushing the potter, but it was imperative that he not miss the get-together.

“Anyo, she needs to be up early.”

“Araso.” He wasn’t sure exactly what his friend was looking for in this call. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was becoming rather annoying to talk about nothing.

“WooBin-ah?”

“Ne?”

“I’m slipping.” There it was. Their old code word, created that night in the bridge as a means of accountability between the two. He quietly sighed, worried about both his friend and his father’s reaction. “Do you need me to come over?” He would do it of course, there would be some lie he could come up with to back out of the manor.

“Anyo, I threw it all out.”

“Chincha?”

“I promise. I poured it all down the drain.”

It sounded like the truth so he didn’t ask again. “Araso.”

“WooBin-ah?”

“Ne.”

“Are you… okay?”

Of course he wasn’t and they’d made a promise to be truthful but sometimes the truth could do more damage than good. So he lied. “Ne, I’m alright. You’re alright.” It didn’t sound very convincing and he paused before continuing. “We’ll both be fine, araso? It’s just because of tomorrow you’re feeling like this.”

“Ne,” came the quiet reply. “WooBin-ah…”

“Oh?”

“Kahmsahmnidah.”

He didn’t deserve thanking, but YiJung was always giving it to him. “Go to sleep. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

He hung up the phone before there was a reply and prepared himself to go back to the council. He wasn’t okay, and he certainly was not ready to about to get involved in another of his father’s messes but he had no choice but to grin and bear it.

***

Sorry to SPAM my subscribers with new chapters haha... I'm almost caught up in uploading then it will be me writing new chapters and posting when their done.

In another note, I HATE cancer with a passion. We just found out a classmate passed away this weekend after a 3 year fight. I really want this fiction to be a story of love and friendship and memorium for everyone who has, is, and will battle this disease.