Chapter 18: Who Knows

The buzzing sound of cars passing by, footsteps against the pavement, and exchanged conversations meet my ears as I stepped out from my apartment’s doors. You’d think I’d get used to the mundane life after being an idol since I was a teen but you’d be wrong. It’s been years but still couldn’t grasp the reality that I can finally go out and not having to worry about cameras by the media hiding somewhere, waiting for me to do something that would be in tabloids first thing in the morning or evening. I admit, it’s a very wonderful breathe of new fresh air and every day I am grateful for this lifestyle. Not that I’m ungrateful of my days as a celebrity but there’s two things that my celebrity life couldn’t give me—freedom and privacy. I didn’t expect much freedom and privacy after the disbandment because people were still all over us. We were on the news and despite the non-celeb life, cameras and people still treat us as if we’re still part of that industry. It took years to finally calm the wave of questions and intrigued eyes that look at me as if I have something to share. However, there are still some people who eye me as if they know—or knew—who I was but it’s just a matter of seconds before they pull away their gaze and focus their attention back to whatever business they have going on. No one bothers me now, that, I’m thankful for.

I look up at the sky and squint as the tiniest bit of sunlight meets my eyes before dark clouds fully cover it. I wonder if it’ll rain. The weather news forecast last night said there’s a possibility of rain showers but not a heavy one. I always have an umbrella with me anyway—one in my bag and the other one in my car. And judging from the sky today, I’m probably going to be using either of them.

I head for the parking lot and got in my car. Since it’s a Saturday and no little student asking me if he or she coloured the drawing right, I still got stuff to do like art commissions. I love my job as an art teacher to little kids and their enthusiasm of the subject always gives me a warm feeling. But I also decided to run my own website and post my art stuff online and with people requesting here and there, saying they’ll buy my work, it turned into a hobby slash business. Sometimes I don’t know if they buy because they’re interested in my work or they only did it because it’s me—the once-was-an-idol-and-leader-of-the-top-girl-group. Doesn’t really bother me anyway because I’m happy and this is something I enjoy and love doing. It also gives me some extra cash to pay for my everyday life’s expenses. Art’s been my one of the things I love so much and there was no denying it to the world. Singing, on the other hand, has been the one I love most but I don’t perform on stage anymore nor go on radio stations and let my voice be heard without having a face to show. Still, I sing to my students and they would sometimes sing along or listen intently then clap once the song is over. Both give me the sense of happiness and satisfaction that even if I’m not singing to the world, I have a bunch of kids who always appreciate my voice.

Singing doesn’t stop there for me though. Sometimes the girls, former members but still are my sisters slash close friends, hang out to wherever we could find some quality time together. I remember them asking me to sing while we were at some local bar and it was open mic night and I remember the feeling again of performing on stage. It wasn’t that big of an audience but it was still a delight to find them being into the song I was singing and then the cheers and claps after. That happened two years ago. We still go there and if it’s an open mic night, we’d take turns going up on stage.

I pull away from the parking lot and drive my way my usual to-go coffee house. It’s near the school I’m teaching and almost every after work, I find myself going to this coffee house ordering some coffee or whatever pastries they got. It’s not far from my apartment so it’s also kind of convenient in the least to save me from traffic.

I arrive less than thirty minutes and park my car in the coffee house’s tiny lot. Sometimes the place gets packed during weekends but I guess right now, it’s not filled with too many customers and the dark grey sky might be the cause of it.

The barista give me smile and ask, “The usual?”

I planned on ordering something that isn’t my usual today but since my mood of drinking other than cappuccino deflated the moment I entered, I give him a nod and I went my usual seat. They’re familiar of who I am already. Not because of my former status but because I became their regular customer. I even know their names already and had some nice friendly chat with them at some point. The girls know about my stops here and tease me about cute coffee house guy—as to what they call him—also known as the current barista making my order right now. I sigh. I admit, he’s cute and that smile makes me smile too. But he doesn’t make my heart pound and I just got out of a relationship a four month ago. Some of the girls are now engaged while some are dating and I don’t get the other people constantly wondering why I’m still not fully committed so someone when I tell them I’m not dating anyone or when they look at my left hand and found no ring. I rub my forehead. Clearly, this kind of topic tends to mess with my head and to save myself from a headache, I’m going to put this behind. It’s not like the world’s going to end if I don’t find The One. My supposed The One is an old story. Not going to lie, but a part of me misses him. I guess my heart still hasn’t opened up to others even if I keep telling myself that I’ve moved on. It was a mutual break-up and I know I didn’t want it, he knows too. The moment we parted ways, his eyes filled with sadness matching his forced smile still haunt me these days. It’s been years but I hope he’s doing well. Lost all contact with him but sometimes I still get updated from his former members who are good friends of mine and our mutual friends as well. I sigh again and thank the barista for bringing me my coffee.

A good hour and fifteen minutes passed and I’m already too engrossed with the book I’m reading. Ditched my art commission for a bit and shut my laptop off. It’s raining outside but it’s warm in the coffee house. Add in the music too.

Another fifteen minutes passed and I hear the door open making me realize just how heavy the rain is outside. I didn’t bother craning my neck to see who the customer was because the moment I heard his voice, I feel my heart jump and my body freezing in place.

I recognize that voice.

That voice has spoken to me so many times; the voice that sang me songs to put a smile on my face or bring tears to my eyes depending on what’s the message behind it; the voice that my ears have grown accustomed to all these years and still not drifted away.

I slowly turn my head back and there he was, standing by the counter, talking to the barista who just took my order an hour ago. He still looks the same except that his hair is back to black now. I remember how much his hair changed colours and I would tell him that it worries me because there were times when the bleaching somehow damaged his silky strands. He’d just laugh it off and shakes his hair at my face like a puppy that just got out of bath. God, I miss those times.

I quickly turn my head back front and sigh deeply. So what if he’s here? He’s probably just grabbing some coffee or finding some shelter since it’s pouring down so hard outside. No one is even walking with an umbrella. Guess people are settling somewhere where they can’t get wet. I want to say hi but… would it be awkward? I shrug it off. But—

“Taeyeon?”

Oh.

I slowly lift my head and my eyes meet his. The familiar face that I can never seem to forget is now in front of me. He’s not a hallucination. He’s real. And he’s smiling at me with a mug of coffee in his hand. I also notice that he didn’t use any honorific as if we’re still—I shake my head and offer him a smile in return.

“Hi, Baekhyun