Play A Song For Me
Title: Play A Song For Me
Pairing(s): KangTeuk
Genre(s): Romance
Length: 3409 words
Rating: PG-13, warning!sappy
Summary: A sap-filled story about a timid librarian and a weary street musician and their love for Bob Dylan.
Inspiration(s): Downtown Seattle. Enough said.
Soundtrack | Bob Dylan
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Forever Young
Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
Every Grain of Sand
Desolation Row
The Times Are A-Changin’
Like A Rolling Stone
Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door
Mr. Tambourine Man
```
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
Leeteuk loved music. No, scratch that, he loved Kangin’s music. There was something authentic in the street musician’s voice that enthralled the librarian. It was sweet, nostalgic, and full of life all at the same time. The fact that he was also a remarkably talented guitarist did not hurt, either, with deft fingers and a natural skill at chord improvisation. And the best part was, Leeteuk got to listen to the singer every weekday on his way to work.
Every morning, Kangin would set up his chair and his instrument at exactly eight o’clock in front of the flower shop beside the city library and he would start singing exactly ten minutes later. Leeteuk was never late, and for the next twenty minutes or so, he would lean against the brick wall around the corner, out of sight. (Leeteuk was unmistakably shy, and was the type of person who preferred to admire from afar. Even when other regulars started showing up and stopping in their tracks to listen to a song or two, Leeteuk was oddly embarrassed at the mere thought of coming out of his hiding place and instead remained out of the musician’s peripheral vision until it was time for work.)
Despite his reticence, however, Leeteuk never failed to throw in a coin or two into the open guitar case, all the while trying to act natural and not as tense as he felt while a pair of kind eyes watched him pass.
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
Leeteuk was found out on a sunny Tuesday.
He was at his usual place, arms wrapped around his torso as he leaned against the side of the flower shop and squinted for any sign of a busker from behind his glasses, unaware that said busker was presently approaching him from behind. The friendly hey there made him jump, losing his glasses in the process. Leeteuk spun around and dropped to his knees, half-blind as he felt around for the thick black frames that he owned since his sophomore year of high school. Then he felt a large hand on his shoulder and he backed away, breath quickening.
“Whoa, relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” a deep voice assured, and Leeteuk squinted as he got handed back his glasses. “Sorry if I scared you, though.”
Once he was able to see again, his heart almost stopped at the sight of a familiar-looking man in front of him with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.
“I-It’s okay,” Leeteuk stuttered, blushing at how fragile he sounded. “I was just r-r-resting.”
Kangin quirked an eyebrow. “I see.”
Leeteuk twiddled his thumbs and stared at his shoes-sandals and socks-for an agonizingly awkward moment. “Well, I b-better be going,” he chirped, heat spreading from his cheeks to his ears. “Can’t be late for work, now, can I? My boss is huge on punctuality. That means I have to go, since I have to be on time, well you know that since I just told you, sorry for bothering you, it was a pleasure meeting you, and, yah, bye.”
The librarian made it two steps before Kangin spoke up again, stopping him in his tracks. “Do you like Bob Dylan?”
Turning around just slightly, Leeteuk nodded. “Yah, he’s great. I love him.”
“I do, too. I’m into the oldies in general, but Bob Dylan is way up on my Top Five list.”
The blond cracked a smile and nervously adjusted his glasses.
“I’m Kangin, by the way,” the street musician held out a hand.
Leeteuk accepted the handshake and felt Kangin’s calloused palm against his own smooth fingers. The man was wearing a dark flannel shirt and comfortably loose jeans, and suddenly the librarian felt self-conscious in his button-up collared chemise and tie. “I’m Leeteuk.”
“It’s always nice to put a name with a face.” Kangin inhaled deeply and stepped into the streets. Leeteuk stared at the busker unblinkingly. “I’ll see you around then?”
“Yah,” Leeteuk nodded, awestruck.
“Oh, and by the way, if you were playing a game of hide-and-seek, you’d be the first one to be found,” Kangin smiled teasingly, pointing to the ground. “Make sure to take your shadow into account next time around.”
Leeteuk blushed so hard it was painful, and spent the rest of his day at work banging his head against the bookshelves. The next morning, he made a point of backing up just so that his shadow was out of sight, and huffed in annoyance when he heard the smug I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing! from around the corner.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears
Leeteuk loved being a librarian. It was a quiet job, which was nice, and it required a good grasp on the Dewey Decimal System, which he had. Plus it gave him premium access to the books and CDs and other resources there, and as an inherent library rat he used this privilege to the fullest and always kept updated with the newest releases. In general, though, he had always had trouble dealing with people, but that could not be helped considering the fact that usually libraries had people coming and going throughout the day. On top of that, he never could have prepared for the appearance of a certain gorgeous Bob-Dylan-loving-guitarist-slash-singer at the checkout.
Unfortunately, he had been ordering books at the top shelf when the deep ahem, excuse me sounded. Yelping, Leeteuk lost his footing and he fell to the ground along with the books he was holding, and in an instant he was on his hands and knees, apologizing profusely while trying to gather the fallen books and feel around for his glasses at the same time.
“Hey, relax,” the voice whispered, making Leeteuk freeze in mid-scramble. “Let me help.”
His glasses were handed back, and he blinked several times to get used to the prescription before gasping silently. “K-Kangin?”
“What’s up?” the guitarist greeted huskily in his loose Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
The sight almost made Leeteuk unfasten the top button of his chemise. “Uh.” Then he realized that he was still on the ground and clumsily pushed himself upwards. “Oh, uh, what are you doing here? Wait, you’re probably here to find books or something.” Stupid, stupid, stupid! “D-do you need help finding anything, sir?” he recited his librarian line nervously, eyes averted.
Kangin laughed merrily. “Don’t call me ‘sir’, it makes me sound like my father. And I was just stopping by, really. I wanted to check out the CDs.”
“The CDs are in the back,” Leeteuk instructed, and motioned his customer to follow as he fretfully walked down the aisles of nonfiction books to the many shelves of compact disks and records galore. “Any particular genre, sir?” The librarian clamped his hand over his mouth at his mistake. “Oh, sorry, you don’t like being called sir. Sorry, um. Sorry.”
Kangin chuckled. “Have any Beatles in stock, perhaps?”
“Yah, actually, they’re all here,” Leeteuk pointed to the rack farthest to the right. “Albums are organized by year and release date.”
“Sweet,” Kangin rubbed his hands together in a let’s get this show on the road! kind of way. “Got to learn some more music to prepare for tomorrow. People are starting to request and I don’t like being outdone by those with good taste.”
“So no more Bob Dylan?” Leeteuk tried not to look too disappointed.
“Oh no, there will still be plenty of Bob Dylan. Hell will freeze over before I stop singing his songs.”
“That’s good.” Leeteuk smiled involuntarily and blushed when Kangin smiled back. “Really good.”
“Have a personal favorite?”
Leeteuk took a minute to think before concisely answering. “Mr. Tambourine Man,” he decided. “It’s simple and lighthearted. And lovely.” At Kangin’s blank expression, he faltered. “Is that okay?”
“It’s great,” Kangin winked.
“Thank you.” Leeteuk exhaled.
“Come around tomorrow morning,” the street musician asked. “Can you do that?”
The librarian nodded.
“But do me a favor and don’t hide anymore.” A soft smile graced Kangin’s lips. “I perform better when I can see your shadow from the corner of my eyes.”
The next morning, Leeteuk did as he promised and didn’t go to the trouble to hide his shadow. And at ten past eight, as the strums of a guitar filled the streets, he smiled tenderly at the lyrics that told the beautiful story of a folk song Orpheus who enraptured all music-lovers with the magical strumming of his tambourine.
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other time it’s only me
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand
Leeteuk grew up in a happy family with two loving parents and a doting sister. He lived a routine life in a sheltered environment: he was driven to school every day, he was almost always under parental supervision, and he followed more than he initiated-just as every overprotected child was raised.
His parents kept him totally oblivious to the “bad things in life”, and always treated him like a porcelain doll, easily broken and infinitely fragile. Leeteuk did not know anything about sex, drugs, or booze until he was nineteen. He believed that things just happened automatically. Bills were paid without him even lifting a finger, food was placed on the table the second he came home. Probably the only things he ever worked hard towards were his marks (and it was only recently he found out that his parents had set up an appointment with all of his teachers, telling them to treat their child with the utmost care).
Which was why, when he turned twenty, the year he was expected to stand up on his own feet and make a name of himself, he fell over facedown, and did not know how to get up.
And along with it went every inch of his self-esteem.
Kangin grew up alone. He never knew his parents, and he never had any siblings (at least, none that he knew about). Thus far, he had only located his step-uncle twice removed who turned out to be the hugest dick in Kangin’s long list of Hugest Dicks, which killed any other hope of finding anything remotely affiliated to the typical definition of an immediate family.
Before he was twelve years old, he was transferred from foster home to foster home, which did not bode well. The families were always too distant, and the parents always worked too hard to make him fit in. After he turned twelve he decided to escape the system and create his own life. He learned tricks and tips off the street, and expanded his repertoire for survival. Sometimes he met people with morals, but more often than not this was not the case, and as a result he constantly got hurt and betrayed and cheated. However, he pushed himself upright each and every time despite the bruises on his face and on his heart.
It is said that whatever does not kill you makes you stronger, but by the time Kangin turned twenty, he could not help but feel like he got weaker as the amount of hardships continued to crash onto him, each time taking away more and more of him until he feared that he would vanish into thin air.
Right now I can’t read too good
Don’t send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
Kangin visited Leeteuk started visiting his biggest fan at the library on a daily basis. Kangin seemed to do it voluntarily, always friendly and at times even wolfish with his charming grin and handsomeness. Leeteuk, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about this matter.
For one, it was a chance to see Kangin other than those times he was singing out on the streets. This was good since: A. He was head over heels in love with him; and B. He was head over heels in love with him. And did he even mention how he was most ardently head over heels in love with him? The librarian genuinely looked forward to the mid-afternoons of his shifts and always smiled at the prospect of talking to the street musician about Bob Dylan, astronomy, and favorite Sunday morning cartoons.
Nevertheless, it was also a chance to make an utter fool of himself and that was always great for his deflated self-esteem. Despite anticipating Kangin’s arrival for hours prior, Leeteuk always managed to trip, sneeze, stumble, drop a pile of books, bump his head, knock over a shelf, get his lanyard stuck in a doorknob, or (most recently) set off the fire alarm. This sparked a wave of suspicion that accumulated until one day, when Jungsu fell headfirst into a pile of defected computer mice, he suddenly blurted out to his helping hand: “Kangin, do you only visit me to laugh at my cerebellum failures?”
Kangin froze in mid-assistance and raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“Just, why do you see me every day?” Leeteuk buried his face in his hands, ears reddening when he realized just how pathetic he looked. “I’m clumsy, I’m ugly, I’m helpless-if you are only coming to take pity on me, please don’t come here anymore.”
After a few moments of stunned silence, Kangin bent to his knees and pulled the shuddering man into an embrace, soothing him by running his hand over blond hair. “Hey, don’t overthink things,” he chastised gently. “I don’t visit people because I pity them; I’m not that nice of a person. I come see you because you’re adorable.”
“I am?”
“And good-looking, while we’re on the subject.”
“So wait a minute,” Leeteuk pushed him away sharply, “You only come to see me because you think I’m good-looking, not because I’m nice?”
This made Kangin laugh and laugh, and before Leeteuk knew it they were going out for dinner Saturday night.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’
When Leeteuk was twenty, he received his first rejection letter in his life. When Kangin was twenty, he found his parents-buried three feet underground in the farthest corner of a pauper’s graveyard.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Leeteuk was an extremely bright young man, and it did not take Kangin long to figure that out. He grew up in an erudite family and inherited his parents’ thirst for knowledge. He solved advanced-level calculus problems in his head, and could read off of page four-hundred-sixty-three of any published history textbook by memory. It would not have surprised Kangin if Leeteuk had said that he memorized every word in the library he worked at. The guy had ideas spinning around his brain, well-developed arguments on worldly topics. But he never seemed to have enough confidence to voice them.
“Why do you think that?” Kangin asked over a glass of white wine, genuine curiosity on his face as Leeteuk described the fascinating ways of looking at a simple circle.
The librarian blushed and his gaze flickered in between panic and anxiety. “Well, it’s only an observation of mine, I mean, I know it’s not very interesting, you’d probably laugh at it if I told you, I’m so sorry for rambling like a freakish geek-” And so on and so forth.
“No, continue,” Kangin urged, trying not to scare him. “I won’t laugh, I promise.”
“Forget it,” Leeteuk cut off abruptly, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.”
“No you didn’t. I can see it spiraling in your head. Tell me, I’m curious.”
“Kangin, really, it’s not a big deal-”
“Hell it is,” Kangin deadpanned. “You always leave me hanging at the end of conversations once we get to the good part. Any particular reason why?”
“I’m embarrassed,” Leeteuk answered truthfully.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed in front of me,” the musician soothed, eyes softening. “Just tell me exactly why you think circles are fascinating.”
Leeteuk took a deep breath. “Well, circles are the epitome of infinity. It’s a never-ending shape with no start and no end. One can think of it as a mathematical shape with infinite sides or as an artistic figure with no sides. It has infinite symmetrical lines and infinite tangent points. So all in all, the circle is infinity so to speak.”
“Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?” Kangin teased, grinning widely.
“I sounded like a geek,” Leeteuk whined, burying his face in his hands in mortification.
“Yes, but most geeks are not adorable,” he winked, laughing when he saw red creep up to the tips of his date’s ears.
Kangin was a strong man in the both the physical and literal sense. Leeteuk relished the feel of his confidence, marveling in awe as his confidant spoke with conviction and deliberation. He gave out the impression that he had a direction, he had goals, he had raw ambition. He had the guts to keep going in life to face the adversities head on with no guarantee of success. There was nothing he was too afraid of doing. It only depended on how much he could take before breaking.
“Tell me about your family,” Leeteuk asked timidly.
“I’d rather not.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Reasons,” Kangin responded tersely, face hardening.
“Oh.” The librarian’s face fell. “Okay. Sorry”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Kangin took one more look at the blond’s face and he sighed, relenting. “I grew up myself. On the streets, if you will. Never knew my family.”
And instead of the pity that Kangin expected to receive, Leeteuk only nodded and absorbed the information. “I see.”
“I was placed in foster homes for most of my childhood. In one of them, my foster father beat me with his belt every night.” Kangin grimaced, thinking about the scars on his back, memories of what should have never been. “I left and tried to find my parents, but found my step-uncle instead.”
Leeteuk’s face brightened. “That’s good!”
“It would have been,” Kangin agreed, “If not for the fact that he was a rich bastard who reveled in the fact that poor people were poor. Including his family.”
“Why would you say that?”
“My parents were bystanders of a gang fight. Both were shot in the chaos though they had nothing to do with it. My asshole uncle refused to help pay the hospital bills despite being the only person in the goddamn family with any sort of income.”
Leeteuk nodded. “And now? Are you okay?”
“Yah.” The weariness on his chest floated off as Kangin smiled and looked Leeteuk in the eyes. “I think I’m okay.”
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Leeteuk has only been in love once in his life, and they had ultimately split (amiably) because she had to move to China to pursue her dreams of becoming a top-notch lawyer. That did not mean that Leeteuk had forgotten what it was like to be in love. It was hardly the case. He remembered it clearly, the feeling of pure bliss and happiness.
He remembered that elation he felt every time he caught a glimpse of his then-girlfriend. It was as if his heart was on the brink of exploding into a whole spectacle of colorful fireworks, and he was just so exultant he could hardly breathe! It was the kind of happy that made him lightheaded, the Jesus Christ, it should have been goddamn illegal to be this happy! kind of happy.
And listening to Kangin’s Bob Dylan covers and knowing that he was singing for him made Leeteuk feel just like that, a million times over.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you
Pairing(s): KangTeuk
Genre(s): Romance
Length: 3409 words
Rating: PG-13, warning!sappy
Summary: A sap-filled story about a timid librarian and a weary street musician and their love for Bob Dylan.
Inspiration(s): Downtown Seattle. Enough said.
Soundtrack | Bob Dylan
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Forever Young
Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
Every Grain of Sand
Desolation Row
The Times Are A-Changin’
Like A Rolling Stone
Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door
Mr. Tambourine Man
```
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
Leeteuk loved music. No, scratch that, he loved Kangin’s music. There was something authentic in the street musician’s voice that enthralled the librarian. It was sweet, nostalgic, and full of life all at the same time. The fact that he was also a remarkably talented guitarist did not hurt, either, with deft fingers and a natural skill at chord improvisation. And the best part was, Leeteuk got to listen to the singer every weekday on his way to work.
Every morning, Kangin would set up his chair and his instrument at exactly eight o’clock in front of the flower shop beside the city library and he would start singing exactly ten minutes later. Leeteuk was never late, and for the next twenty minutes or so, he would lean against the brick wall around the corner, out of sight. (Leeteuk was unmistakably shy, and was the type of person who preferred to admire from afar. Even when other regulars started showing up and stopping in their tracks to listen to a song or two, Leeteuk was oddly embarrassed at the mere thought of coming out of his hiding place and instead remained out of the musician’s peripheral vision until it was time for work.)
Despite his reticence, however, Leeteuk never failed to throw in a coin or two into the open guitar case, all the while trying to act natural and not as tense as he felt while a pair of kind eyes watched him pass.
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
Leeteuk was found out on a sunny Tuesday.
He was at his usual place, arms wrapped around his torso as he leaned against the side of the flower shop and squinted for any sign of a busker from behind his glasses, unaware that said busker was presently approaching him from behind. The friendly hey there made him jump, losing his glasses in the process. Leeteuk spun around and dropped to his knees, half-blind as he felt around for the thick black frames that he owned since his sophomore year of high school. Then he felt a large hand on his shoulder and he backed away, breath quickening.
“Whoa, relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” a deep voice assured, and Leeteuk squinted as he got handed back his glasses. “Sorry if I scared you, though.”
Once he was able to see again, his heart almost stopped at the sight of a familiar-looking man in front of him with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.
“I-It’s okay,” Leeteuk stuttered, blushing at how fragile he sounded. “I was just r-r-resting.”
Kangin quirked an eyebrow. “I see.”
Leeteuk twiddled his thumbs and stared at his shoes-sandals and socks-for an agonizingly awkward moment. “Well, I b-better be going,” he chirped, heat spreading from his cheeks to his ears. “Can’t be late for work, now, can I? My boss is huge on punctuality. That means I have to go, since I have to be on time, well you know that since I just told you, sorry for bothering you, it was a pleasure meeting you, and, yah, bye.”
The librarian made it two steps before Kangin spoke up again, stopping him in his tracks. “Do you like Bob Dylan?”
Turning around just slightly, Leeteuk nodded. “Yah, he’s great. I love him.”
“I do, too. I’m into the oldies in general, but Bob Dylan is way up on my Top Five list.”
The blond cracked a smile and nervously adjusted his glasses.
“I’m Kangin, by the way,” the street musician held out a hand.
Leeteuk accepted the handshake and felt Kangin’s calloused palm against his own smooth fingers. The man was wearing a dark flannel shirt and comfortably loose jeans, and suddenly the librarian felt self-conscious in his button-up collared chemise and tie. “I’m Leeteuk.”
“It’s always nice to put a name with a face.” Kangin inhaled deeply and stepped into the streets. Leeteuk stared at the busker unblinkingly. “I’ll see you around then?”
“Yah,” Leeteuk nodded, awestruck.
“Oh, and by the way, if you were playing a game of hide-and-seek, you’d be the first one to be found,” Kangin smiled teasingly, pointing to the ground. “Make sure to take your shadow into account next time around.”
Leeteuk blushed so hard it was painful, and spent the rest of his day at work banging his head against the bookshelves. The next morning, he made a point of backing up just so that his shadow was out of sight, and huffed in annoyance when he heard the smug I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing! from around the corner.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears
Leeteuk loved being a librarian. It was a quiet job, which was nice, and it required a good grasp on the Dewey Decimal System, which he had. Plus it gave him premium access to the books and CDs and other resources there, and as an inherent library rat he used this privilege to the fullest and always kept updated with the newest releases. In general, though, he had always had trouble dealing with people, but that could not be helped considering the fact that usually libraries had people coming and going throughout the day. On top of that, he never could have prepared for the appearance of a certain gorgeous Bob-Dylan-loving-guitarist-slash-singer at the checkout.
Unfortunately, he had been ordering books at the top shelf when the deep ahem, excuse me sounded. Yelping, Leeteuk lost his footing and he fell to the ground along with the books he was holding, and in an instant he was on his hands and knees, apologizing profusely while trying to gather the fallen books and feel around for his glasses at the same time.
“Hey, relax,” the voice whispered, making Leeteuk freeze in mid-scramble. “Let me help.”
His glasses were handed back, and he blinked several times to get used to the prescription before gasping silently. “K-Kangin?”
“What’s up?” the guitarist greeted huskily in his loose Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
The sight almost made Leeteuk unfasten the top button of his chemise. “Uh.” Then he realized that he was still on the ground and clumsily pushed himself upwards. “Oh, uh, what are you doing here? Wait, you’re probably here to find books or something.” Stupid, stupid, stupid! “D-do you need help finding anything, sir?” he recited his librarian line nervously, eyes averted.
Kangin laughed merrily. “Don’t call me ‘sir’, it makes me sound like my father. And I was just stopping by, really. I wanted to check out the CDs.”
“The CDs are in the back,” Leeteuk instructed, and motioned his customer to follow as he fretfully walked down the aisles of nonfiction books to the many shelves of compact disks and records galore. “Any particular genre, sir?” The librarian clamped his hand over his mouth at his mistake. “Oh, sorry, you don’t like being called sir. Sorry, um. Sorry.”
Kangin chuckled. “Have any Beatles in stock, perhaps?”
“Yah, actually, they’re all here,” Leeteuk pointed to the rack farthest to the right. “Albums are organized by year and release date.”
“Sweet,” Kangin rubbed his hands together in a let’s get this show on the road! kind of way. “Got to learn some more music to prepare for tomorrow. People are starting to request and I don’t like being outdone by those with good taste.”
“So no more Bob Dylan?” Leeteuk tried not to look too disappointed.
“Oh no, there will still be plenty of Bob Dylan. Hell will freeze over before I stop singing his songs.”
“That’s good.” Leeteuk smiled involuntarily and blushed when Kangin smiled back. “Really good.”
“Have a personal favorite?”
Leeteuk took a minute to think before concisely answering. “Mr. Tambourine Man,” he decided. “It’s simple and lighthearted. And lovely.” At Kangin’s blank expression, he faltered. “Is that okay?”
“It’s great,” Kangin winked.
“Thank you.” Leeteuk exhaled.
“Come around tomorrow morning,” the street musician asked. “Can you do that?”
The librarian nodded.
“But do me a favor and don’t hide anymore.” A soft smile graced Kangin’s lips. “I perform better when I can see your shadow from the corner of my eyes.”
The next morning, Leeteuk did as he promised and didn’t go to the trouble to hide his shadow. And at ten past eight, as the strums of a guitar filled the streets, he smiled tenderly at the lyrics that told the beautiful story of a folk song Orpheus who enraptured all music-lovers with the magical strumming of his tambourine.
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other time it’s only me
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand
Leeteuk grew up in a happy family with two loving parents and a doting sister. He lived a routine life in a sheltered environment: he was driven to school every day, he was almost always under parental supervision, and he followed more than he initiated-just as every overprotected child was raised.
His parents kept him totally oblivious to the “bad things in life”, and always treated him like a porcelain doll, easily broken and infinitely fragile. Leeteuk did not know anything about sex, drugs, or booze until he was nineteen. He believed that things just happened automatically. Bills were paid without him even lifting a finger, food was placed on the table the second he came home. Probably the only things he ever worked hard towards were his marks (and it was only recently he found out that his parents had set up an appointment with all of his teachers, telling them to treat their child with the utmost care).
Which was why, when he turned twenty, the year he was expected to stand up on his own feet and make a name of himself, he fell over facedown, and did not know how to get up.
And along with it went every inch of his self-esteem.
Kangin grew up alone. He never knew his parents, and he never had any siblings (at least, none that he knew about). Thus far, he had only located his step-uncle twice removed who turned out to be the hugest dick in Kangin’s long list of Hugest Dicks, which killed any other hope of finding anything remotely affiliated to the typical definition of an immediate family.
Before he was twelve years old, he was transferred from foster home to foster home, which did not bode well. The families were always too distant, and the parents always worked too hard to make him fit in. After he turned twelve he decided to escape the system and create his own life. He learned tricks and tips off the street, and expanded his repertoire for survival. Sometimes he met people with morals, but more often than not this was not the case, and as a result he constantly got hurt and betrayed and cheated. However, he pushed himself upright each and every time despite the bruises on his face and on his heart.
It is said that whatever does not kill you makes you stronger, but by the time Kangin turned twenty, he could not help but feel like he got weaker as the amount of hardships continued to crash onto him, each time taking away more and more of him until he feared that he would vanish into thin air.
Right now I can’t read too good
Don’t send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
Kangin visited Leeteuk started visiting his biggest fan at the library on a daily basis. Kangin seemed to do it voluntarily, always friendly and at times even wolfish with his charming grin and handsomeness. Leeteuk, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about this matter.
For one, it was a chance to see Kangin other than those times he was singing out on the streets. This was good since: A. He was head over heels in love with him; and B. He was head over heels in love with him. And did he even mention how he was most ardently head over heels in love with him? The librarian genuinely looked forward to the mid-afternoons of his shifts and always smiled at the prospect of talking to the street musician about Bob Dylan, astronomy, and favorite Sunday morning cartoons.
Nevertheless, it was also a chance to make an utter fool of himself and that was always great for his deflated self-esteem. Despite anticipating Kangin’s arrival for hours prior, Leeteuk always managed to trip, sneeze, stumble, drop a pile of books, bump his head, knock over a shelf, get his lanyard stuck in a doorknob, or (most recently) set off the fire alarm. This sparked a wave of suspicion that accumulated until one day, when Jungsu fell headfirst into a pile of defected computer mice, he suddenly blurted out to his helping hand: “Kangin, do you only visit me to laugh at my cerebellum failures?”
Kangin froze in mid-assistance and raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“Just, why do you see me every day?” Leeteuk buried his face in his hands, ears reddening when he realized just how pathetic he looked. “I’m clumsy, I’m ugly, I’m helpless-if you are only coming to take pity on me, please don’t come here anymore.”
After a few moments of stunned silence, Kangin bent to his knees and pulled the shuddering man into an embrace, soothing him by running his hand over blond hair. “Hey, don’t overthink things,” he chastised gently. “I don’t visit people because I pity them; I’m not that nice of a person. I come see you because you’re adorable.”
“I am?”
“And good-looking, while we’re on the subject.”
“So wait a minute,” Leeteuk pushed him away sharply, “You only come to see me because you think I’m good-looking, not because I’m nice?”
This made Kangin laugh and laugh, and before Leeteuk knew it they were going out for dinner Saturday night.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’
When Leeteuk was twenty, he received his first rejection letter in his life. When Kangin was twenty, he found his parents-buried three feet underground in the farthest corner of a pauper’s graveyard.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Leeteuk was an extremely bright young man, and it did not take Kangin long to figure that out. He grew up in an erudite family and inherited his parents’ thirst for knowledge. He solved advanced-level calculus problems in his head, and could read off of page four-hundred-sixty-three of any published history textbook by memory. It would not have surprised Kangin if Leeteuk had said that he memorized every word in the library he worked at. The guy had ideas spinning around his brain, well-developed arguments on worldly topics. But he never seemed to have enough confidence to voice them.
“Why do you think that?” Kangin asked over a glass of white wine, genuine curiosity on his face as Leeteuk described the fascinating ways of looking at a simple circle.
The librarian blushed and his gaze flickered in between panic and anxiety. “Well, it’s only an observation of mine, I mean, I know it’s not very interesting, you’d probably laugh at it if I told you, I’m so sorry for rambling like a freakish geek-” And so on and so forth.
“No, continue,” Kangin urged, trying not to scare him. “I won’t laugh, I promise.”
“Forget it,” Leeteuk cut off abruptly, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.”
“No you didn’t. I can see it spiraling in your head. Tell me, I’m curious.”
“Kangin, really, it’s not a big deal-”
“Hell it is,” Kangin deadpanned. “You always leave me hanging at the end of conversations once we get to the good part. Any particular reason why?”
“I’m embarrassed,” Leeteuk answered truthfully.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed in front of me,” the musician soothed, eyes softening. “Just tell me exactly why you think circles are fascinating.”
Leeteuk took a deep breath. “Well, circles are the epitome of infinity. It’s a never-ending shape with no start and no end. One can think of it as a mathematical shape with infinite sides or as an artistic figure with no sides. It has infinite symmetrical lines and infinite tangent points. So all in all, the circle is infinity so to speak.”
“Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?” Kangin teased, grinning widely.
“I sounded like a geek,” Leeteuk whined, burying his face in his hands in mortification.
“Yes, but most geeks are not adorable,” he winked, laughing when he saw red creep up to the tips of his date’s ears.
Kangin was a strong man in the both the physical and literal sense. Leeteuk relished the feel of his confidence, marveling in awe as his confidant spoke with conviction and deliberation. He gave out the impression that he had a direction, he had goals, he had raw ambition. He had the guts to keep going in life to face the adversities head on with no guarantee of success. There was nothing he was too afraid of doing. It only depended on how much he could take before breaking.
“Tell me about your family,” Leeteuk asked timidly.
“I’d rather not.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Reasons,” Kangin responded tersely, face hardening.
“Oh.” The librarian’s face fell. “Okay. Sorry”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Kangin took one more look at the blond’s face and he sighed, relenting. “I grew up myself. On the streets, if you will. Never knew my family.”
And instead of the pity that Kangin expected to receive, Leeteuk only nodded and absorbed the information. “I see.”
“I was placed in foster homes for most of my childhood. In one of them, my foster father beat me with his belt every night.” Kangin grimaced, thinking about the scars on his back, memories of what should have never been. “I left and tried to find my parents, but found my step-uncle instead.”
Leeteuk’s face brightened. “That’s good!”
“It would have been,” Kangin agreed, “If not for the fact that he was a rich bastard who reveled in the fact that poor people were poor. Including his family.”
“Why would you say that?”
“My parents were bystanders of a gang fight. Both were shot in the chaos though they had nothing to do with it. My asshole uncle refused to help pay the hospital bills despite being the only person in the goddamn family with any sort of income.”
Leeteuk nodded. “And now? Are you okay?”
“Yah.” The weariness on his chest floated off as Kangin smiled and looked Leeteuk in the eyes. “I think I’m okay.”
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door
Leeteuk has only been in love once in his life, and they had ultimately split (amiably) because she had to move to China to pursue her dreams of becoming a top-notch lawyer. That did not mean that Leeteuk had forgotten what it was like to be in love. It was hardly the case. He remembered it clearly, the feeling of pure bliss and happiness.
He remembered that elation he felt every time he caught a glimpse of his then-girlfriend. It was as if his heart was on the brink of exploding into a whole spectacle of colorful fireworks, and he was just so exultant he could hardly breathe! It was the kind of happy that made him lightheaded, the Jesus Christ, it should have been goddamn illegal to be this happy! kind of happy.
And listening to Kangin’s Bob Dylan covers and knowing that he was singing for him made Leeteuk feel just like that, a million times over.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you