"We totally rocked last Friday!" Daesung cried. He's literally jumping up and down, playing an air cello. Oh Daesung, what are we going to do with you?

 

I noted Jae tucked away in the corner looking dejected. I know it's hard for him seeing us so ecstatic about a performance he himself had arranged and had been so looking forward to doing. The violin was a substantial part of his daily schedule, and now, all he can do is wait for his hand to heal. He realized I'm staring at him, concern evident in my features, and stood up, coming over towards me.

 

"Hey," he said. I'd called him the day after the performance to let him know that everything had went well and that I'll have to unfortunately cancel our plans for Sunday. Jiyong and I are limited as to when we can work on our project, both feeling we'll struggle to finish it in the time set anyway, so could we please reschedule for another time? He'd agreed, but the despondency had been all too evident in his voice. I'd felt bad and still do, but college came first, right?

 

"How was your weekend?" I asked.

 

He shrugged. "Okay, I suppose. I missed you."

 

I can hear Jiyong fake gagging from across the room where he's unpacking his violin. I shoot him a look and he met my eyes, mouthing ‘wiener’. I rolled my eyes. "Oh," I said, suddenly remembering Jiyong's idea from last week, "Jiyong has an idea to run by you all in regards to what we're play at the schools."

 

"We'd already decided that," Jae said reproachfully.

 

"We're not going to engage 14 year-olds with Mozart," Jiyong stated, "We'll put them to sleep."

 

"Then what would you suggest, Mr. I-know-everything?"

 

"We do quintet versions of songs from bands like Nickelback, Paramore, Linkin Park…stuff like that. We play what they listen to, and hopefully, we'll encourage them to take up an orchestral instrument."

 

In unison Jae cried, "That's stupid," while Bom exclaimed, "That's brilliant!"

 

"I'm up for it," Daesung said, carefully placing his cello on the floor before going over to Jiyong, giving him a high five. "Don't get me wrong, I like Bach like the last Baroque fanatic, but you'd be combining two brilliant things here: string instruments and rock music. We're gonna be epic, man."

 

We all turned to Seunghyun then. He's the only one not to have voiced his opinions yet, all save me. "I think," Seunghyun began, pausing for dramatic effect, "that we should do it. It'd be fun."

 

"And who's going to write these arrangements then?" Jae demanded, still not totally convinced. Come on, Jae.

 

"I will," Jiyong stated.

 

"Jae," I said, waiting for him to look at me, "we could at least give it a go. I think it's a really good idea and if we do pull it off, the kids will really enjoy it. Jiyong's right, they'll switch off if we start playing the music we love."

 

"We can still play some Bach and Vivaldi," Jiyong added, "but we've got to mix it up a bit."

 

Jae's outnumbered five to one. We're doing this whether he agreed or not. But fortunately, he nodded, albeit grudgingly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After practice, Jiyong and I drove back to his house after picking up the kids, intent on continuing with our project. I'm really not looking forward to speaking in front of our class, a compulsory element of our project, but knew, due to past experiences with debates and alikes at school, that once I begin, I'll get into my stride and have no problem. I know Jiyong will be fine. Yes, he appears mute to most, but he can be quite charismatic when he wants to be.

 

"Here you go, noona," Deukkie said, handing me a glass of orange juice.

 

I smiled. He's such a sweet kid. Can't I trade Durami for him or Dami? "Thanks a lot, Deukkie. At least some people treat their guests nicely," I said, directing my last comment at Jiyong.

 

Jiyong frowned and leaned in closer from the seat he'd taken next to me. For God's sake Dara, whatever you do, don't blush!

 

"What exactly are you insinuating?" he asked.

 

"Just that your hospitality could use a bit of work."

 

Dami came and plopped herself in the seat opposite me then, pushing some of our many research sheets forward to make room for a plate of cookies. "She's got a point, oppa. You should always ask a guest whether they want a drink."

 

Jiyong frowned, his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly. He's amused at this turn of events. "Is this pick on Jiyong day?"

 

"Yes," I replied, "just like every day is."

 

Dami giggled while Deukkie smirked mischievously. I thought I'd smelt something odious before. Eeew, Deukkie. Jiyong slumped forward, resting his head in his hands, giving an exaggerated sigh.

 

"My party's next week," Dami said, "will you come unnie?"

 

Jiyong perked up at this, hope glinting in his eyes. "Could you?" he asked, "I'll be on my own and there'll be about twelve screaming girls. Originally, Mom was going to be here to help, but I don't think she'll be able to now, and I don't think I could manage on my own."

 

They all looked at me hopefully, Jiyong's eyes pleading. "Sure," I said. "Just let me know the date and time."

 

Jiyong smiled, relieved, and mouthed ‘Thank you’.

 

"Yay!" Dami cried. "It's gonna be great. Oppa's hired a magician and there's gonna be a pink cake and…"

 

 

 

 

 

"Ugh," I groaned as I rested my head on the backs of my hand, lying half across the table. My brain is fried…literally. We'd been working for how long? I looked up, glancing at the clock that hangs above the fireplace. It reads 6:30. Okay, so perhaps we'd only been researching for the last three hours, but the Canterbury tales is really hard to decipher. It's interesting, don't get me wrong, but the amount of brainpower required…I just don't have it in me at the moment.

 

I looked to Jiyong, who regarded me with a small smirk, his eyes conveying his amusement. As with most things Jiyong tackled, he does so with ease and a deftness that had easily earned him the title of Valedictorian at school. Smarty-pants.

 

He's about to comment when the door suddenly swung open, smacking against the wall.

 

"Seungri?" Jiyong called, bolting out of his chair and into the hall. I followed him.

 

The lanky figure of Seungri stomped up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Jiyong charged after him, banging on his door, demanding that he open it right this second. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching as he tried the door handle. No luck, it's locked.

 

"Will you let me in," Jiyong demanded. "What's wrong? Will you just talk to me for once…just open the…Seungri, will you just open the door…for God's sake just…" He stopped mid-plea, giving up, and leaned his head against the door in despair. "We'll talk later, Seungri," he promised.

 

I shrank back into the living room, waiting for him to come back down. What's going on?

 

Jiyong walked straight past me and sat at the table, sifting through our work, looking anywhere but at me. "What's going on? Is he okay?" I asked.

 

He refused to look at me, pretending to be reading something on a sheet. "How am I supposed to know? He won't talk to me, he hardly speaks to anyone anymore. Or if he does, all he does is shout or make some snarky remark." He'd practically shouted his response at me, eyes focused on the papers in his hand as he'd done so. I didn't reprimand him for speaking to me like that. I didn't say anything. He's worried about his brother and he doesn't know what to do. I'll give him a break. "As if I don't have enough problems," he said softly. I almost didn't catch the quiet utterance, but I did, although I'm fairly sure I wasn't supposed to.

 

He rubbed a hand across his face, and when he removed it, I can see how weary he is, worry congealing in his dark eyes. I'm not used to all this sappy emotion stuff, but I didn't like seeing him so crestfallen and frustrated and lost.

 

I moved my seat closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. And when he didn't shrug it off, I moved my arm around his shoulders, giving them a small squeeze, trying to reassure him.

 

"Is everything ok, Jiyong?" I asked. "I mean, not just with Seungri, 'cause Dami mentioned the other day that you argue with your mom a lot recently."

 

He shrugged my arm off and stood up, fumbling with the papers once again. "We're fine."

 

I stood up also, barely keeping a tenuous grasp on my patience. "A lot's happened to your family recently, so it wouldn't be surprising…"

 

"Families argue, Dara. Fact. You telling me you never argue with your mom? Seungri's a teenager, he's just being moody. He'll perk up in the next few days. You don't need to worry."

 

I frowned because I know he's concealing the truth. He's being too defensive for there not to be something wrong. He’s keeping something from me, but what?

 

"I was only trying to help…"

 

"Thanks for your concern, but we don't need any help," he interrupted.

 

"Fine," I said curtly, "I'll see you tomorrow then." I gathered up my stuff quickly, literally shoving my papers inside my bag. He didn't see me to the door like he usually does, he just pretended he's reading through some papers.

 

We'll do it his way…for now. But I'll find out what's wrong in the end.

 

 

 

 

An extract from Chapter 13 of Ambiguity

 

Naomi rushed into work again, this time, just five minutes late for her afternoon shift. She casts a swift glance round the room: no Bob. She's in the clear.

 

She takes a moment to catch her breath, having ran all the way to the bar from the bus stop. She hadn't had to deal with a drunken mother returning late this morning, as she hadn't yet returned by the time Naomi had left for work. Naomi's worried, yes, but the growing resentment she feels towards her mother since her excessive drinking is gradually eroding her sympathy. She believes her mother needs to harden up because bad things happen (her father's Alzheimer's) and she isn't the only one suffering. Perhaps it's a crude assessment, but she's had enough.

 

She notes Ace in one of the booths, finding his empty glass very interesting, turning it this way and that. She suspects he'd seen her enter, but didn't want to catch her eye. Usually he'd greet her warmly before making some witty remark, in which she'd easily fire back with one of her own retorts. Today isn't going to be one of those days, however. Tension still hangs thickly between them from yesterday's argument. She doesn't like it, so she's resolved to fix it.

 

"Hey," Naomi says, sliding into the seat opposite Ace.

 

His eyes flit to hers briefly before locking back on the glass. "Hey."

 

"About yesterday…"

 

"Yes," he prompts, Naomi having now captured his attention completely. He puts down the glass, his dark eyes locking with hers.

 

"I'm sorry," she says, "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I know you were only trying to help."

 

"No, you shouldn't have," he agrees, "especially since I'm such a nice and kind person." His face remains passive, unreadable. She's surprised at how desperate she is for him to forgive her: she doesn't want him angry with her, or thinking any less of her.

 

And then he gives her a lopsided smile and she knows everything is going to be okay between them. He says: "I suppose I can forgive you…but on one condition."

 

She groans, inwardly thrilled that he's forgiven her so easily, especially since she didn't think she deserved it, but is rather apprehensive at this 'but'.

 

"What's the deal?" she asks wearily.

 

He smiles, eyes shining with amusement. "You go on a date with me."

 

She rolls her eyes. He'd already asked her out…several times, and she'd said no to each and every one of his requests. So why would she amend her answer now?

 

"You owe me," he says. Oh yeah, that. But still?

 

"Ace," she groans.

 

"Naomi," he says, imitating her tone.

 

She frowns, and he mirrors her facial expression. Rolling her eyes once more at his childish actions, she gets up and heads to the bar. She'd kept an eye out while sitting at the booth for customers lingering there, but there had been none.

 

"I thought we'd be able to talk," he says, casually leaning against the bar.

 

"We talk all the time," she says. "In fact, you," she points at him, "talk too much."

 

He fixes her with a look of mock hurt, his hand over his heart.

 

"About what?" she asks reproachfully, suddenly serious.

 

"Me, of course."

 

He grins at her and she can't help but smile in response. He has an odd ability of being both charming and utterly annoying at the same time: a paradoxical combination, but the essence of Ace nonetheless.

 

"You said yesterday we don't know each other very well, and you're right, so I want to fix that, " he continues. When she doesn't respond he adds, "I'm not beneath using blackmail, either, so…"

 

She holds up her hands in surrender. She can't believe she's going to say this, but…

 

"Okay," she agrees, holding up one finger, "one date. But that's it."

 

"Great!" He's smiling broadly and she finds it difficult to suppress her own smile.

 

 

 

 

When I saw Jiyong the next day in class, neither one of us mentioned the tense conversation from the day before. There was nothing to say until he's ready to divulge what's wrong.

 

We walked to the music department in silence. He seemed distracted, but I decided I'm not going to pry… just yet.

 

"I've done a couple of Nickelback arrangements," Jiyong said, as he unpacked his violin. "I thought maybe we could give them a look over. See if they're okay. If they don't work, be honest. This composition thing is a little new to me."

 

He handed round the music sheets, while Jae sat brooding in the corner. I looked at my part: it seems simple enough, and it would be interesting to see how the other string parts would interact with each other."Can we try Gotta Be Somebody first?" Jiyong asked.

 

Both Bom and Jiyong began with long flowing bows on the violin, accompanied by Daesung with shorter, snappier movements on the cello. The piece reached its stride when Seunghyun also entered, his bowing movements much like Daesung's in a staccato-like fashion. My part is mostly chords that are found more throughout the verses. Each string part complimented the other, producing a harmonious piece that sounds just awesome. Damn, Jiyong had done a good job. I don't think I'd ever be able to produce something like this: there are just too many elements; too many instruments to think about when composing such a piece. Why does he have to be good at everything?

 

Daesung beamed at Jiyong when we finished the first run-through. "Dude," he exclaimed, "you're a genius. We're so playing this at the schools. What's next?"

 

 

 

 

An extract from Chapter 14 of Ambiguity

 

Naomi remains in high spirits throughout the day. It will be good to get out the house, she decides, even if it is just for an hour or two to go out with Ace for dinner. He'd offered to come and pick her up at her house if she wanted to get changed after work, but she'd said she wouldn't mind just going out straight after her shift. Her younger brother, Jake, will be at a sleepover tonight, so she won't have to rush back home like she usually does.

 

She wipes over the bar with a newly found vigor, eyes flicking towards the clock every now and then. Today is going so slow, she thinks. She wonders where Ace will take her, because even after her persistent requests, he'd refused to give anything away, wanting to keep it a 'surprise'.

 

The front doors are flung open suddenly, slamming against the wall. Naomi jumps, as do all the customers. Then there are the slurred words of a drunk and Bob's at the door instantly, encouraging the drunkard to leave the premises immediately. Naomi's frozen in place because she knows the voice and she prays the drunk will just leave. But they don't, of course, instead cursing and swearing and crying, "Let me go! I'm here to see my daughter, she'll let me in."

 

Naomi can hear the scuffling; she can hear the less-than-patient requests from Bob for her to leave before the police are called. But what she doesn't hear is the quiet tread of Ace as he comes up behind her. He says, "Great, just another drunk making a complete fool of themselves. I can't believe the scum we get in here sometimes."

 

She doesn't reply, because her drunken mother's next words prevent her. "Naomi! Naomi, are you there? It's your mom. Tell this brute to get their hands off me."

 

 

 

 

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Hello guys!!! I'm back!!! ^___^ My exams are done, I only have some projects and a few reports left but they won't keep me occupied that much. Meaning, more updates! Weeee!!!! And also..... TOTL update! SOON! <3

THANK YOU FOR NOT GIVING UP ON THIS FIC. NOTHING MUCH HAS HAPPENED SO FAR, BUT THANK YOU FOR STILL READING! LOVE YOU GUYS!!!