The Fourth Picture

                Youngbae thought that the date had gone pretty well judging from the fact that he finally got her number after they parted ways. He had stared at the new number in his phone during the entire bus ride home, almost draining his entire battery. He waited until the next morning before texting her and was pleasantly surprised when she replied only two minutes later.

                For the next few days, he almost constantly had his phone in his hands; it had gotten to the point where even his mother had to comment on it. “Who are you texting? Obviously not Jiyong. So who is the girl? It is a girl, isn’t it?”

                “Her name is Moon Chohee,” he said a bit nervously as he put the phone back into his pocket. He let it buzz and didn’t answer this time as he stared at his mom in order to see her reaction.

                “Moon Chohee?” she asked, her lips pursing into a thin line, “Don’t let her distract you from your studies. You may like her now but you probably won’t in a few years. Besides, once you take over your father’s positions, there will be a lot more eligible women more suited to you.”

                “You haven’t even met her,” he accidentally let slip out. He immediately shut his mouth and stared at his mother wide-eyed. She let out a laugh in pure disbelief before her face reset into a frown. He fidgeted with his bag’s strap before attempting to make a quick mistake. He was stopped.

                “I don’t need to meet her,” she stated, “No one is going to interfere with your future. As your mother, especially now since your father has passed, it is my responsibility to make sure of that. Do you understand?”

                “I understand,” he nodded before backing towards the door. He walked out quickly before fishing his phone out of his pocket and replying to the previous text. He then added on to that, requesting Chohee’s presence after his next class.

                He let out a sigh of relief when she agreed. Whatever their relationship was, he would inevitably have to keep it hidden from his mom. He didn’t want her to worry, which is what that episode had been he hoped. He also didn’t want her to say something hurtful to Chohee in a similar manner she had to him. However, he also didn’t want to lie to his mother. He really wasn’t sure which sin was worse.

                He really wasn’t sure.

                Youngbae didn’t have too long to fret about his choices once he arrived on campus. He somehow managed to pay attention with only mild breaks from the stream of consciousness required to wade through a college professor’s lecture. His notes actually made sense that day with only a few doodles in the corners.

               His foot began to tap nervously as the clock began to wind down. He didn’t pack up early like some of his neighbors. He stayed put with his pen still in his hand, writing, until the professor finally ended the lecture with one rather large sigh. After that sigh, his pen dropped into one of the smaller pockets of his bag before he shoved his notebook in after it.

                Somehow, he was one of the first people to rush out of the room. His competitors probably had other classes to go to but he had something that he, currently, regarded as more important. His mother may have been right to worry about that part but he wasn’t going to admit to that.

                Chohee was waiting for him, as promised, about four meters from where she had specified. Luckily, he was already getting used to having to find her when they were on campus. Her Polaroid camera was cradled in her arms while she flipped through a few of the photographs the machine had invariably spit out at her.  

                “Thanks for agreeing to meet up,” Youngbae said as he approached her.

                “No problem,” she replied, “But what happened?” She stood and put the photos into her bag before looking up at him. Unlike his mother whose eyes bored in to him, her warm, brown eyes stared at him curiously. He had a feeling that if he told her he didn’t want to talk about it, she would let it go.

                “Today, my mother reminded me what my purpose is.” He somehow managed to combine a sigh and a laugh into one breath. He shrugged and looked down in order to escape her eyes for a moment. He finally looked back up and offered her a small smile. “So I guess we can’t text as often anymore.”

                “How is your purpose related to us texting?” Her brow furrowed and her lips turned down into a frown as her fingers drummed against the camera. Her thinking face was truly adorable.

                “Apparently you distract me.”

                “If it doesn’t bother you,” she laughed, “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.” Her thinking face disappeared as her smile lit up her whole face. He couldn’t help but grin back at her, happy that she felt that way. “Though, I guess I’ll understand now if you don’t invite me back to meet your mother.”

                “I’m happy you understand,” he admitted.

                “I don’t understand,” she shook her head, “not really. I don’t even know my own purpose so I’m pretty sure my parents don’t either.”

                “I’m her only son,” he mumbled, “it’s my job to make her happy.”

                “What about you? Whose job is it to make you happy?” she inquired, her head cocking to the side. He opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. Chohee remained quiet as she waited, allowing him to think.

                “I’m not sure.”

                “Well, until you’re sure, I guess I’ll make it my responsibility.”

                “O-Okay,” he blushed, causing her to laugh again. She reached out and grabbed his hand, only adding more red to his cheeks, before leading him towards the café. He shifted his hand to intertwine their fingers and was pleasantly surprised when Chohee only stopped once to take a picture of one of the campus’s many resident birds.

                When they finally got inside the café, Chohee picked out two melon sodas and refused to let him pay for them. So he bought a red bean paste bun for the two of them to share instead. They sat down at the only table not occupied by other students or their laptops.

                Chohee wiped off a few stray crumbs from the table’s previous occupants before setting down her camera along with the two sodas. He gently tapped the top of his soda before popping the tab. She smiled at that action, unbeknownst to him, before doing the exact same thing.

                “Do you think you could play the piano for me again?” she asked suddenly.

                “If we can find one, sure,” he said, “I have one at home but-”

                “We can’t go there.”

                “Yeah,” he sighed before taking another sip of the very bubbly drink. Chohee ripped a piece of the bun for herself, exposing the yummy, chunky insides.

                “Maybe we can borrow one from the music building,” she mused.

                “In front of all of the professionals?” He didn’t mean to sound so incredulous but he hadn’t had a proper lesson in years. His father had been the one that had always encouraged him to play. Because of his memory, his mother had never gotten rid of the keyboard the old man had bought for Youngbae years ago. That being said, she never encouraged him to play and, when he did practice, she generally asked him what homework he was procrastinating on.

                “Don’t worry about what other people think. The more you try to fit in, the more your stomach will twist up in knots. Your tummy will feel a lot better when you stop caring.” Youngbae wasn’t exactly sure what his bowels had to do with anything but he didn’t exactly feel like arguing or asking for clarification. Besides, if he asked her to explain, she’d probably only confuse him more.

                “So you never have tummy troubles then?”

                “I get butterflies in there when I’m around you,” she stated. His cheeks turned bright pink as he looked away, covering his face with one of his hands. Why did she always have to say things like that?

                “We should hurry up if you want me to play for you.” He switched subjects in order to stay away from the danger zone. He nodded before finishing the last of the bun. He didn’t remember eating any of it himself but was fine with that.

                They held hands on the journey across campus to the music building. The closer they got, the more people carried different sized black cases or gripped sheets of music tightly. He felt more and more out of place until they reached the large glass doors.

                He opened them for her before getting directions to the practice rooms. Almost every single one of them had a piano inside, though most of the pianos were tiny. They passed several people practicing different instruments and even one or two people doing vocal exercises. He chose a room at the end of the hall and Chohee followed him inside, camera ready.

                Youngbae ran his fingers up and down the keys, happy that this piano was actually in tune. He straightened his back before asking if Chohee had any requests.

                “Play what you want. I’ll like whatever it is.”

                “Okay…” He turned back to the piano and did a few scales as he went over the many songs he had memorized while he had a real teacher. Finally, he decided on Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 19. Some parts were a little fuzzy to his brain but his hands appeared to remember everything perfectly.

                His eyes slid shut while his head bobbed with the beat. He wasn’t worried about Chohee’s camera or her eyes that remained fixated on him. She would occasionally bring her camera up to her face in an attempt to take a picture but then lowered the device. It felt wrong to have something even as lovely as the shutter’s sound interrupt him while he played.

                He was so wrapped up in the piece that he didn’t notice the door opening softly. A middle-aged man entered the tiny room before shutting the door just as quietly behind him. He smiled at Chohee who managed to break her eyes away from Youngbae long enough to give the man a questioning look. He offered her a good-natured wink before she lost interest and turned back to Youngbae who was reaching the end.

                Once the last note left the piano, he finally opened his eyes. His posture changed back to the typical college student slump before he was startled back into a more appropriate posture by the clapping of the man.

                “That was lovely,” the stranger praised, “A few mistakes here and there but wonderful for someone playing without any sheet music.”

                “I agree,” Chohee piped in with a serious expression.

                “Thanks but, um, who are you?” Youngbae asked, now feeling extremely self-conscious. He shouldn’t have done this. He definitely shouldn’t have played on campus; there were too many professionals here. That’s what this guy probably was.

                “I’m the music theory professor and the piano tutor, Yang Hyunsuk,” the man introduced himself, “and I don’t believe that I have seen you in any of my classes. You certainly aren’t one of my pupils.”

                “I’m business and econ,” Youngbae explained.

                “Ah, you’re one of those,” the man nodded, “Well, I suppose that’s your life choice but you clearly have some talent there. You should at least think about getting lessons in order to help your talent along even more.”

                “I agree,” Chohee interjected again, offering Youngbae a rather large smile.

                “So my office is another floor up, turn right and go all the way to the end of the hall. The door is the one on the left and is usually open unless another student is there. Feel free to stop by any time.” With that, he turned and walked back out of the door, leaving the couple along again.