It was sometime after 2 p.m. in the afternoon when Soojung arrived in Jongin's house. The weather was warm and the sun shone brightly through the curtains. She checked her appearance on a Victorian mirror hung near the entrance, feeling happy that she had chosen to wear loose leather shorts and cropped white tee that day. Her varsity jacket hung loosely on her shoulder as she walked through the hallway on her favorite Isabel Marant’s wedge sneakers.

A man in black uniform welcomed her as she reached the foyer. She smiled, recognizing the man as the head butler of the household from his appearance.

Butler Yoon's eyes widened in surprise as he greeted her. Years had passed since the last time he saw Soojung visited the house with her family members. Never had he thought she would visit Jongin alone without any specific occasion.

“Are you going to stay until dinner?” Butler Yoon asked as he escorted Soojung to the second floor.

“I am afraid not. I have another appointment with my family,” Soojung smiled politely.

“Ah, that’s too bad. Mr. Kim will be having dinner at home tonight. He would be delighted if you could join them.”

“Perhaps I should not bother them. It’s their father-and-son moment, don’t you think?”

Butler Yoon only curled up his lips in response. He directly led her to a door at the end of the east wing of the second floor. He asked whether she wanted him to announce his arrival to Jongin, but she said she would do it herself. The butler left after telling her that he would come back with supper.

Soojung knocked the door several times, but there was no response, not even the slightest sound. She noticed that the door was unlocked and decided to enter anyway.

No one was in the room. Only the sound of the TV playing an American action movie and a plate of unfinished sandwich on the coffee table greeted her inside. She stood near the door as her eyes scanned the room, looking at everything but nothing. At least the aroma of shampoo evaporated from the bathroom and the unmade bed with crumpled blanket confirmed that Jongin was at home today.

Her eyes wandered until she spotted another door near the balcony.

She stepped inside to what apparently was Jongin’s study room, with tall bookshelf full of books and clutters, a desk with the newest iMac near the window, and a set of Bang and Olufsen speaker in the corner. On the wall opposite the window stood a display cabinet of Jongin's camera collections, ranging from 1937’s Minolta Autocord to the antique Voigtlander Bessa 667 III.

Soojung did not know that Jongin was a camera collector. She stepped closer to the cabinet, admiring the tidiness that was shown through the way he neatly placed the cameras.

But what came next as a surprise for her was not the 24-carat gold-plated Leica M6 on top of his collection, but the photo collages that Jongin arranged on the empty wall near the door. Photos of golden-like fallen leaves, Sakura bloomed in pinks, city lights at midnight, and sunrise behind the clouds were among those glued on the wall. They were arranged in simple lines but turned out so beautiful, since the photos appeared to speak for themselves.

It was another side of Jongin that Soojung never expected before.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Soojung was startled by the voice. She turned her head and found Jongin standing near her with his usual nonchalant expression. He sipped from his mug as he put his left hand into his trouser's pocket and leaned his body slightly to his desk.

“Hey,” Soojung waved her hand awkwardly, “I was looking for you.”

“I was at the pantry, making coffee. Who took you into my room?"

“Butler Yoon did.”

“Maybe he thought I was here,” Jongin nodded, assuming.

“Sorry for sneaking into your room like this. Would you mind if I…” Soojung's voice trailed off as she pointed at the photos on the wall.

“No, of course. It’s fine,” he replied, smirking at his own words.

Soojung simply smiled at him. She went on to stare at the photos with her eyebrows furrowed, as if she was examining each of them. Jongin put his mug on the desk and stood behind her, his eyes following her move.

“I don’t know that you like photography,” Soojung uttered without looking at him.

“It’s just a hobby, more or less,” Jongin replied.

“Said someone who collects cameras worth more than my matte crocodile birkin bag,” Soojung gestured her head towards the cabinet.

Jongin followed Soojung’s eyesight, chuckling a bit. “Not all of them are mine. Some belonged to my late Grandfather. They are given to me.”

“So it’s genetic, huh? Liking photography and collecting cameras?”

Jongin hummed as he bit his lower lip. “I don’t think so. My father is rather bad with cameras. He prefers my grandfather’s business better.”

Soojung tilted her head. “My father likes reading. I always thought that I inherited his interests in literature, but I guess I was wrong.”

“I don’t think you’re wrong. Our cases are just different,” Jongin said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Soojung nodded along with his words. Her eyes were captivated by the photos, she didn’t even notice that Jongin was observing her reaction thoroughly. She took a step behind, as if examining the photos from bigger perspective.

“I’m curious. What objects do you like to capture?” Soojung crossed her hands, “Nature? Architecture?"

“Hmm... I like everything but artificial things. That sums all of it.”

“You don’t like capturing people, do you?” Soojung assumed, “I don’t see any photo of your friends or family.”

Jongin eyed her, amused by her sense. “You’re right. I don’t like taking photos of people.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re artificial,” Jongin said. He pointed at the photos on the wall. “You see, I like capturing these things because they are real. They are what they are.”

Soojung furrowed her brows. “So, you’re saying that people are fake?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Jongin quickly corrected her, “I think people tend to be ‘aware’ when there is a camera pointing at them. They start to make better expression, smiling or anything. See my point?”

“But there’s this thing called ‘candid photos’, right?”

‘Yeah, but nowadays they are not that candid after all. People just act indifferently, but somehow they will try to manage their gesture,” Jongin shrugged, “I don’t know—maybe people around me are too photogenic, after all.”

Soojung chuckled, completely understood what he meant. She slowly turned her eyes back to the photos on the wall.

Jongin's lips unknowingly moved upward, looking at her. Soojung was the second person who appeared to really take an interest at his photos, seeing them like they were a collection of artifacts. The first one was his Mother, who used to tell him that he had talents for photography.

But Jongin couldn’t even remember the last time his Mother visited his study room.

“What is this?” Soojung pointed at one particular photo at the end of the second row.

Jongin stepped closer, taking a close look at the photo, “I think it’s a reflection of the woods and the sky on a lake. You can see that it’s slightly distorted.”

“So you took a picture of the water?”

“Yes. It was in Salzburg, years ago,” Jongin eyed her, “Why? Is the photo peculiar for you?”

Soojung shook her head. “I like how you capture things. You have different yet strong character. It’s great.”

“Well, thank you,” Jongin replied sincerely.

Just like what would always happen after a warm conversation, silence took over them. They just stood side by side, doing nothing but staring at the rows of pictures. Soojung seemed immersed in her own thoughts while Jongin wondered what was going through her mind. He could only catch her eyes looking back at one particular photo even though they had wandered to the farthest part of the rows.

“It’s settled. I really, really like this one,” Soojung pointed her finger at the photo of reflection on the lake.

“Why?” Jongin felt confused. There were other better pictures for him than that one.

“I just like it. No reasons,” Soojung paused and looked at him in the eyes, “Not everything needs reasons, right?”

Jongin felt a tickle in his stomach as their eyes met. He could only blink in bewilderment as she let out a light laugh, with her eyes gleaming in reflection of the afternoon sun. Those light brown eyes.

He cracked a smile as he stared at the carpet with meaningful look, but Soojung failed to notice it as she had turned to look at the mug on the desk.

“What is it? Cappuccino?” she asked.

“Americano,” Jongin took the mug and sipped his coffee, “But I don’t add sugar in it.”

“Is it bitter? I don’t like bitter taste.”

“It’s bitter at first, but it gives you a slight sweet aftertaste. Want to try?”

Soojung stepped closer to smell the aroma. She scowled. “Ew, the smell tells it all.”

“It’s the smell of real coffee, not the ones you find in some coffee shops, "Jongin’s voice was filled in skepticism, "I heard they also spray the air with the scent of roasted coffee to attract more customers."

“They do?” Soojung eyes’ widened.

“Well, good smell attracts people, so they do it as their marketing strategy."

“That’s rather mind-blowing,” she snatched the mug from Jongin’s hand and hold it near , smiling knowingly. “So you’re a skeptical young lad who criticizes the world a lot. Haven’t seen that coming from you.”

“Didn’t I say I am rather blunt?” Jongin replied as he eyed the way Soojung drank from his mug carefully.

Soojung grimaced as she handed the mug back to Jongin. “God, put some sugar in it, won’t you?”

“Does it taste like a poison for you?” Jongin remarked mischievously.

“Oh, you don’t know how much I resist spitting it,” Soojung moved her tongue inside , “Hey, there’s a slight sweet aftertaste.”

Jongin smiled rather too widely, as if he was winning a battle of the year. “Want to try a cup for yourself?”

“Someday, just not today,” Soojung pursed her lips, “Can I just ask for tea? Earl Grey, it is.”

“Alright.”

Jongin walked out of the study room and approached an intercom near his bed. Soojung followed behind him after taking a quick glance at the photo collage. She threw herself on the couch and put her Bottega Veneta tote bag next to her. Soojung could hear Jongin talking to someone in the kitchen, asking for a cup of Earl Grey and some biscuits.

She eyed him when he took a seat across from her. “Is Sehun coming late?”

“Oh, my—," Jongin suddenly straightened his back, his eyes reflecting concerns, "Sorry, Soojung, I was supposed to tell you this, but... I forgot to ask Sehun your phone number earlier."

Soojung frowned with inquiring eyes. Jongin sighed. "Sehun texted me before you came and said he couldn’t come. He mentioned something about a party downtown.”

“A party?” she repeated in disbelief, “Really?”

“Well, it’s Saturday night, so...” Jongin shrugged, throwing Soojung a knowing look.

“But, he was the one who planned this thing. How could he just bail like that,” Soojung scoffed.

Jongin smiled faintly. “I am sorry.”

“What for? It’s not your fault.”

“I should’ve told you,” he said sincerely, “I mean, you don’t need to come here in the first place. We can just meet up at the cafe, the school, or any place you’re comfortable with.”

The corners of Soojung’s lips lifted slightly. “Do you think I am not comfortable being with you?”

“Honestly?” seeing her nodded in reply, Jongin continued, “Yeah, I do think so.”

“Why?”

“Because... we’re rather awkward before—I mean," Jongin crossed his legs, leaning his body forward, "We know each other, but we’re not that close. We rarely talk. So... you get what I mean, right?”

Soojung only laughed at his rhetorical question and leaned her back against the couch.

Jongin his lip. “Look, I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because Sehun is not here. It won't be pretty to have awkward conversation about our lives when we need to talk about Shakespeare.”

“Oh, you and your weird sense of humor,” Soojung said in between her laugh, “But, don't worry. It's nice, talking to you.”

“Good," he replied, a smile tugging on his lips, "I also like talking to you."

Jongin could see her cheeks flushed when she asked back. “Why?”

“You really ask a lot of ‘why’, you know that?” he paused to look at her in the eye. "Well, just because. Not everything needs reasons, right? Just like you said.”

As Jongin looked away to grab the TV remote, Soojung couldn’t help but wonder: how could his tousled hair, glinted eyes, and mischievous smirk serve him so well, more than anyone else she knew?

She suddenly recalled—again—her conversation with Sehun. She bit her lip, giving a thought over the matter for a while before taking out her phone from the bag. She handed it to Jongin, who gave her a questioning stare.

"I think I could use your number," she said.

Jongin took the phone and laughed, thinking that Soojung was rather cute for someone so sophisticated like her.

 

[][][][]

 

A gray Bentley Flying Spur came through the yard an hour after Soojung had left the house. Jongin peeked from behind the window in the drawing room and he instantly recognized the vehicle. A man in his late 40s wearing Canali suits stepped out of the car in front of the main door. He brought a leather briefcase on his hand, refusing Butler Yoon who offered to carry it.

Jongin continued reading the book on his lap, waiting for the proper timing to greet his father, who just returned home after a week of business trip in Japan. A sense of uneasiness suddenly built up inside him. Having lived only with his father for years apparently could not wash away that awkward feeling every time he saw the old man home after days of not seeing him.

“Please bring some Silver Needle white tea for two and prepare the dinner. I fancy a Western menu tonight, preferably fish. I ate too much meat at lunch already—and, is Jongin home?”

Jongin could hear his father's voice clearly from the drawing room. He closed his book and tidied up his clothes before he walked towards the sitting room, where his father sat on a couch.

“Father,” Jongin slightly bowed at him.

Mr. Kim immediately looked up, his hand was still holding his smartphone. He smiled warmly. “Hey, I wonder why your timing is always perfect. I was just going to ask Butler Yoon to call you.”

Jongin just smiled knowingly.

“Come sit with me. I've asked them to prepare tea for the two of us.”

Jongin took a seat across from his father, sinking his back deep into the couch. Mr. Kim continued using his phone before he finally put it on the table. He loosened his tie and ed the first button of his oxford shirt.

“What did you do today?” Mr. Kim asked.

“Making assignment,” Jongin raised the book on his hand for his father to see, “It’s English Literature this time.”

“I heard that CEO Jung's youngest daughter came to our house this afternoon?” It was rather a statement than a question.

“Yes, her name is Jung Soojung."

“Ah, yes… I think I met her in the last Globaltronic Gala; she accompanied her father,” Mr. Kim paused and looked at Jongin, “Unlike someone’s son who always dodges his father’s invitation.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “Father, you know that I would accompany you if I can."

“Well then, you need to go with me to…” Mr. Kim immediately checked the calendar on his phone, “The Prime Minister’s daughter wedding in October. I have told you months before the date so, please, write it down, okay?”

“I’ll keep it mind,” Jongin said, chuckling a bit.

The housekeeper came with a trolley. She carefully put down two porcelain tea cups and a three-tier cake stand on the coffee table. Jongin immediately snatched a mini strawberry pie and put it into his mouth.

“Remind me again the date of your equestrian competition,” Mr. Kim’s request rather sounded like an order.

“Thirteenth of next month. Why?”

“That’s too bad. I might still be on my business trip to Europe."

“Really? When will you go?” Jongin asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Sometime near the end of this month. I need to finalize a huge business deal; a rare opportunity, I might say,” Mr. Kim paused and coughed, making an obvious cracking sound, “Let’s see what I can do about it.”

“Are you really going, Father? Your throat has not recovered yet,” Jongin sounded concerns, knowing his father's pharyngitis problem, “Just take a rest. Why do you have to be so busy making money?”

“Yah, this is for your life too. Don’t you know that your yearly tuition alone costs nearly 70,000 USD? It’s almost the same amount as that of a boarding school in Switzerland,” Mr. Kim scoffed.

“Well, why don’t you just make a motion to lower the tuition, then? You’re one of the major shareholders,” Jongin replied rather hastily.

“Do you think I own the world? In this business, no one owns the world. We are busy fighting to even just lay our hands on it,” Mr. Kim paused and sighed, “Just study well. Don’t waste the money I’ve spent for you. There’s still a long way to go for you to inherit our business.”

“I know. I will,” Jongin lowered his eyes and his tone of voice simultaneously. He bit his lower lip and looked up again, “But, Father, please take care of yourself. You can’t be unhealthy when you need to go to a war.”

“I will, don’t worry,” Mr. Kim gave him an assuring look, “I am just so forgetful sometimes. I forget my meal and medicine so often. Do you think I should ask my secretary to remind me every day?”

Jongin eyed his father with great concerns.

Like any other sons and daughters of his elite circle, Jongin only saw his father three to four times a week, sometimes even once or twice in a month when he had business trips and engagements. Every time they met, Jongin noticed a slight change on his father's face. Mr. Kim's dark circle appeared to have deepened, he got more wrinkles on his forehead, and his cheeks became thinner. He got older and there wasn’t anyone beside his secretary to take care of him when he was busy.

“Father,” Jongin swallowed his saliva, which rather felt like a lump in his throat, “Have you ever thought about getting married again?”

Mr. Kim stopped slicing a strawberry shortcake on his plate and cautiously stared at Jongin.

“It's been more than five years since Mother died," Jongin pursed his lips and took a long pause. "I think it’s time to find someone to take care of you."

Mr. Kim leaned his body forward. He blinked several times while staring at his son, who already turned his attention to the Wedgwood tea cup on his hand.

“You want me to get remarried?” Mr. Kim repeated Jongin's words.

"Well, if you want to... I don't mind at all."

Mr. Kim fell silent. Jongin eyed him cautiously and sipped his tea, knowing that his father might be taken aback by his statement.

Jongin lost his mother on a car accident when he was still in middle school. He remembered how tough it was for him, but as years went by, he realized that his father suffered a lot more pain upon losing his wife.

It was still vivid in his mind how his father cried at night for months after the funeral. Even until today, his father insisted that his mother's painting studio stayed the same as the day she had left it. Jongin's parents had been together since their college days in the US and they had never separated for more than thirty years. Having looked at his father's face on the day of the funeral, Jongin knew at that time that his father could not let go of her so easily. He was right.

That was the reason why Jongin almost jumped from his seat when his father finally broke the silence.

“Jongin,” Mr. Kim cleared his throat, “I start seeing someone.”

 

 

 

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