"Next!" Bom called.

 

Ugh. It's not going well. At all. And after having heard just eight violinists, I've heard enough. The last player had been just painful to endure: the screeching, the pitch problems, the bowing problems, the…there were just too many problems. It just highlights how Jae's abilities superseded theirs. He's in a different league, a substantially better player. Why did he have to break his hand?

 

All the other previous players had been mediocre. They weren't particularly bad, but the disparity in the level of playing we require is just too great.

 

When nobody else entered the room, I slumped in my seat and let out a heavy sigh. We're doomed.

 

Jae sat to the left of me, with Seunghyun on my other side. I felt squished and slightly claustrophobic huddled together like this, around the table. Whenever I move, my arms inadvertently bump theirs. Bom and Daesung didn't have to contend with this problem, both having situated themselves on the opposite side of the table where two people can sit comfortably.

 

"We need someone who's at diploma level," Bom began, "and a decent sight reader. Do we know anyone?"

 

"What about your sister?" Jae asked, directing the question at me. "You said she played the violin, right?"

 

"Yeah," I began, "but she's not up to the standard we need."

 

Daesung rested his forearms on the table, repeatedly banging his head on the backs of his arms, crying, "We're doomed, we're doomed, we're so doomed, we're…" Bom nudged him hard with her elbow, cutting him off in mid flow as his head smacks against the table, his head having missed the backs of his arms. Ouch.

 

"Careful, Bom," Seunghyun lightly reprimanded, "don't make it so we have to replace a cellist as well."

 

"Yeah, Bom," Daesung childishly chides, rubbing his forehead.

 

I glanced at my watch. Classes will be starting soon.

 

"I'm gonna have to head off, guys," I said. "Can't be late for class, or else Mr. Yang will grill me. Literally."

 

Jae sharply turned his head to me, disappointment clearly written across his face. "Now?"

 

I nodded, giving him a small smile. "Uhm, maybe we could meet up later? I wanted to ask you about some music stuff," Jae said, eyes fixed firmly on the cast encasing his broken hand.

 

I can hear Bom stifling laughter, covering it up with a poorly conceived cough. Daesung was also suppressing a smile, and Seunghyun…he just glared at Jae, who seemed totally impervious to the look. A blush crept its way onto Jae's cheeks as his eyes flit to mine.

 

"I was just gonna go home straight after class, but if it's really important…" I trailed off, waiting for his response.

 

"Yeah, it kind of is." He nodded enthusiastically. "I'll wait for you outside class."

 

"Ok. See you guys tomorrow," I said.

 

As I passed through the doors, I heard Daesung whisper, "Are you really going to ask her?"

 

Ask me what?

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Class dismissed," Mr. Yang declared.

 

I let out a deep breath, relieved. The last hour had just been an agonizing taunt: the BHW had been making goo goo eyes at Jiyong, practically sitting on his lap (no exaggeration), which he'd allowed her to do. He'd even made conversation with her! Jiyong, the non-converser, spoke willingly. When Mr. Yang had issued a few glares at their not so inconspicuous whisperings, they'd resorted to writing on a sheet of paper, and since I was conveniently sitting right behind them, on the next tier of seats, I'd been able to mostly discern their written conversation.

 

It had transpired as this:

 

BHW: I like you a lot. Do you like me?

 

Jiyong: I don't really know you

 

BHW: We could get to know each other

 

Jiyong: I'm sort of busy these days. Work and college, so not a lot of time

 

BHW: We could make time. I'm very accommodating

 

I hadn't been able to decipher the rest, as Mr. Yang had cast them a suspicious glance, preventing Jiyong from responding. My straining in my seat to read the written conversation may have also had something to do with it, in which Mr. Yang had asked whether I was still paying attention. Jiyong had turned around sharply, his eyebrows raised as he noticed my hunched forward position, my neck craning to see what was written on the paper. It had clicked as well, what I had been trying to do, it being clearly evident when a grin had alighted on his face. Jerk.

 

I gathered up my stuff quickly as everyone filed out the room, furtively glancing behind me to see the Black Headed Wonder lingering behind with Jiyong. My jaw clenched and I'm fuming inside.

 

Jae' s there, waiting for me outside, his lithe form leaning against the wall. His face lit up and he smiledwhen he spotted me. I smiled back.

 

"Hey, so what…" I said with Jae in unison asking, "do you want to go out with me tonight?"

 

"What?" I asked, wondering whether I'd heard correct.

 

He took a deep breath, his cheeks a flaming red. "Uhm, I was wondering…if you, maybe, wanted to go out with me to dinner? With me? Tonight? Although another night would be fine too if you were busy or something."

 

I don't know what to say (and that's saying something). I like Jae. A lot. But the thought of him and me together has never really entered my mind. He's kind-caring Jae who holds doors open for me, greets me with warm smiles and makes me laugh. I've only ever considered him as a friend, but…looking at him, right now, in a new light, makes me question as to whether my feelings for him are not solely restricted to friendship. He's cute, no doubt, with hair that curls at the tops of his ears and at the nape of his neck. His eyes are a hazel color: warm and welcoming, but, right now, looking anywhere but  me.

 

"Uhm, I…"

 

I cut off, the high-pitched laughter of the Black Headed Wonder reverberating across the near-empty hall. I turned round, instantly noting how close Jiyong and her are. My eyes locked with hers and she grinned at me. She slipped a piece of paper into his hands and said, "Don't forget to call me," giving him a flirtatious smile before she strutted off, grinning triumphantly at me as she walked by.

 

My jaw clenched and my hands curled into fists. My blood boiled.

 

Jiyong's eyes snapped to mine, his face impassive.

 

I know what I'm going to say to Jae then, not hesitating once as I turned to him, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, I'd love to go out with you tonight."

 

His eyes lit up and he graced me with a broad smile, teeth and all. "Great! I'll pick you up at 6?"

 

I nodded. "You'll need my address," I said, ripping a scrap of paper from my notebook, scribbling a barely legible address down. I handed him the paper and we walked out, with me not once glancing back at Jiyong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm home," I called.

 

I can smell chocolate chip cookies, but the sumptuous aroma does not suffice enough to settle my escalating nerves. I know nothing about dating…zip…nada. So why had I agreed? What if I make a fool of myself? What if he tries to kiss me?

 

I entered the kitchen and forced a smile onto my lips, trying to quell my mounting anxiety.

 

"We've got your favorite tonight, Dara," Mom reported, hunched over the cooker, stirring a pot.

 

Durami's diligently chopping carrots, and issued a short, "Hey."

 

"Actually," I began, deciding I might as well just be forward and tell them about the date, "I'm going out tonight."

 

"Oh," Mom said, her attention still occupied with the pot, "with friends?"

 

"He's a friend," I agreed.

 

Both Durami and Mom's head snapped towards me. "Wait," Durami started, "when you say he, do you mean you actually have a date?"

 

I nodded.

 

"That'll be fun. But be careful," Mom said. I rolled my eyes, and she fixed me with a hard look.

 

"I'm just being a little protective," she continued, "I've never met him before. Does he have any tattoos? Piercings? He's not picking you up on a motorcycle, is he? Because I prohibit you to ever ride on one of those death traps."

 

I laughed, surprisingly relieved. "No, he has no tattoos or piercings. He has a car and will be picking me up at 6 o'clock. It's Jaejoong, the boy I was telling you about from the string group."

 

This seemed to ease her concern and she nodded approvingly.

 

"I'm getting you ready," Durami informed me. "Give me five minutes to finish these vegetables, and we'll get started."

 

WHAT?

 

"Durami, you really don't have to," I said.

 

She went back to chopping and retorts, "Five minutes, Dara. Meet me in my room, I need to de-minger-fy you."

 

I sighed dramatically. "Thanks Durami."

 

"You're welcome. What are sisters for, eh?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's five to six. Jae will be arriving any minute.

 

I tucked a curled strand of hair behind my ear. Durami has once again transformed me into someone who I can barely recognize as myself. The girl in the mirror wears a light blue dress that reaches just above her knees. It's neither too formal nor too casual: perfect for a dinner date. Makeup lightly touches her eyelids in the form of a pale blue color, her eyes further accentuated by mascara and eyeliner. Her lips are coated in a thin sheen of lip-gloss, also.

 

Durami stood to the side of me, hands on hips, a triumphant smile on her lips. "I did a good job, didn't I?"

 

"Not bad," I agreed. "I look really nice."

 

Durami rolled her eyes, her outstretched hand indicating my reflection. "You look beautiful," she corrected.

 

I smiled, my nerves returning with avengeance when I heard the knock at the door, hear my mom cheerfully greeted with, "You must be Jae. Come in."

 

I took a deep breath, hoping I didn't suddenly puke.

 

"Have fun," Durami said, practically shoving me out the door.

 

 

 

We're in an Italian restaurant, situated in a far off corner. Exotic paintings hung in thick gold frames, depicting geographical wonders that stretch across the globe: waterfalls, forests, mountains. Couples are dotted around, here and there, holding hands across the tables, making goo goo eyes at each other. We don't look like that, do we?

 

Candles are situated on every table, creating a romantic ambience. The tablecloth is white and I vaguely worry about whether I'll get sauce on it: I'm a messy eater, and somehow always manage to inflict stains wherever I go.

 

Jae's face is hidden behind the menu, while mine is placed closed in front of me, having already decided what to order. We've made only stilted conversation so far, Jae seemingly quiet and perhaps a little uneasy since we arrived here. Occasionally, after casting a sweeping glance round the room, my eyes would return to his and he quickly looked away, blushing. He's commented a couple of times already how beautiful he thinks I look, with me equally commending his appearance, his attire consisting of dark trousers and a blue shirt.

 

He placed the menu on the table and gave me a small smile. "Ready to order?"

 

"Yep."

 

He tried to catch the eye of one of the waiters, all of who are huddled in the corner beside the stage. I know they sometimes have acts performing here, although tonight, I'm not sure whether there'll be any music. I'm really hungry and didn't want to be kept waiting, so I waved at them, trying to grab their attention.

 

One of them spotted me, a female, and she came over.

 

"Do you guys want to order?" she asked, her pen poised on her pad.

 

"Yeah," Jae began, "I'll have the tagliatelle and a coke."

 

"I'll have the spaghetti bolognaise and a water," I said.

 

She repeated our orders and left to get us our drinks.

 

Neither of us spoke for several minutes, so I listened to the murmured conversations of the couples around me. Nerves still plague me, our silences growing longer and more protracted. Say something, Dara.

 

"This is nice," I said.

 

He nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I'd actually been meaning to ask you out for some time."

 

"Oh?"

 

"It'd just taken me awhile to work up the courage to ask you."

 

He's completely sincere, his cheeks lightly flushing at the admission. My hands are resting clasped on the table and he reached across with his good hand, holding his hand in mine. I noticed for the first time just how long and slender his fingers are: they're violinist hands.

 

"I'm glad you asked me here tonight," I said, and I am. Yes, I'm nervous and totally out of my depth and am plagued with silly worries like: Are my hands too clammy? Am I gripping his hand too tightly? But, irrelevant of all those worries, I'm happy for having been asked out by such a nice guy.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," a deep voice callED on stage. The man is middle aged and thick around the middle. His hair is receding and he's clad in a dark suit. "Allow me to introduce this evening’s entertainment, Kwon Jiyong."

 

I didn't join in with the clapping, stunned into disbelief.

 

"Dara?" Jae tried to get my attention, but I didn't supply a response.

 

My eyes remained solely focused on the stage, watching as Jiyong stepped onto the stage with a violin in hand. He plucked his opening notes and, when he's satisfied with the tuning, he securely placed the violin under his chin and lifted up his bow and began to play. I recognized the piece instantly as Chanson de Matin, having heard Durami play it sometime last year. I loved the piece, and what's more, I love Jiyong's interpretation of it. He's a truly captivating performer, his upper body swaying gently with the music, his bow moving fluidly, his hand moving from position to position with such precision and accuracy. His tone is rich and his performance held contrasting sections of loud and quiet, building momentum and volume as the piece reaches its .

 

When he finished, I clapped along with everyone else, all save Jae, who sat frowning, jaw clenched. "He made some mistakes," Jae declared, "and his bowing needs work. I've heard better."

 

"Have we?" I asked. "He's ten times better than those we saw earlier today. We need another player, and he's the best we've seen. We have three weeks until our first performance and we need someone quick." I'm mildly surprised at my own eagerness to have Jiyong as our new player, but then remembered that we need someone, and soon, even if that person happens to be the devil incarnate.

 

Jiyong played a few more pieces: a contrast of concertos, jigs, and film music. As he left the stage, I scraped my chair back, forgetting my half eaten meal to corner him.

 

"Jiyong?" I called. His head snapped around instantly, his eyes widening infinitesimally, the Jiyong equivalent of utter shock.

 

"Dara? What are you doing here?"

 

"I'm on a date," I stated, "with Jae."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Jae the wiener?" He shook his head, disproving. "You could do a lot better. Let me take you out instead."

 

I gave a short laugh. "He is better. He's a great guy and I'm having a wonderful time."

 

"Then why are you here talking to me, Dara? Shouldn't you be with lover boy?"

 

I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my calm, but man, did he rile me to no end. Perhaps spending more time together would be a bad idea. "I didn't realize you played violin," I began, trying to keep my anger in check. "We could have used you in the school orchestra last year."

 

"Couldn't get enough of me?"

 

I rolled my eyes, regretting ever thinking I could have him playing with us. It would mean even more time with him, and class on its own is more than enough.

 

"You look beautiful, by the way," he said. He appeared sincere, his eyes boring into mine with such intensity. I can feel my lips involuntarily tugging upwards, until I remember that this is Jiyong and he's most likely pulling my leg.

 

"What did you think?" he asked, looking expectantly, referring to his playing. He's grinning, but it appears forced and he seems suddenly tense and apprehensive.

 

"I think," I paused, vaguely wondering whether I'm going to regret this, "that you're good. Very good."

 

The grin became a smile and my heart gave a small squeeze.

 

"Which is why," I continued, "I'm going to invite you to play in our quintet. We need a temporary player, just for the next two months. We've got a few gigs lined up, and we need someone to play first violin." I paused, then added, "You'll get paid."

 

"You don't need to sell it to me anymore, Tokki," he said, "spending more time with you will be reward enough."

 

I cringed. "On second thought, Fang, I retract that offer."

 

He held up his hand in peace, his violin and bow in the other. "Even if I promise to behave?"

 

"You'll have to perform in front of the others, and they'll have to give you the thumbs up. But you're the best we've seen so far, and our first performance is in three weeks."

 

"Little last minute, don't you think?"

 

"Jae broke his hand last week," I explained.

 

"I noticed before. How'd he do that?"

 

"Shut his hand in a cello case."

 

Jiyong began to chuckle and I frowned, intent on defending Jae. "It wasn't his fault," I continued, "it was an accident."

 

"Well, yes," he said between bursts of laughter, "people don't normally shut their hands in cello cases on purpose. He's such a wiener."

 

"Hey," I said, smacking his arm.

 

Ouch, he mouthed.

 

"Wimp."

 

 

 

---

 

You guys are awesome!! Though it's pretty obvious... but still! Haha SO yeah, Jiyong is the new violinist. I wonder what will happen now... Hmmmmmm... ;)

Anyway, comments!!! I love 'em!! And to those who just subscribed, thank you!!! I love you guys!! <3

(I'M DOING WELL WITH THE REGULAR UPADTES RIGHT?? *PATS SELF ON THE BACK*)