under the surface ch02
CHAPTER 2
“Ten bucks,” Chansung said, jumping onto the roof. The girl whipped around, teetering dangerously on the edge.
“I-wha-?” She managed before wilting. Her legs gave way from beneath her and although she was falling away from the edge, Chansung still rushed to catch her before she could hit the concrete.
He found himself staring into the deepest, darkest brown eyes he had ever seen, a soft river of hair cascading over his arm. She looked bewildered, but also something else that Chansung couldn’t really place.
“Ten bucks,” he repeated.
“For what?” She asked, wiping a thumb over the corner of her eye. Chansung wondered whether it was tears, or maybe sweat, or maybe she just didn’t believe that she was seeing him clearly.
“For using our roof,” he replied, grinning. She stood up hastily, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She obviously did not have any money. He laughed. “I was just kidding you know. It’s free, for today anyway.” He brushed off his jeans and stood also. “So what were you doing up here anyway? You could’ve killed yourself.”
The girl glanced quickly down at the ground over the side of the building, a calculation, and Chansung knew. The atmosphere suddenly became uncomfortable.
For the first time, Chansung saw the unbearable sadness in her eyes, the weariness in the way she carried herself, as if she held an invisible load upon her shoulders. It was what she wanted, to kill herself. Without thinking, his eyes jumped to her wrist, and somehow he was not surprised to find thin red lines there, hidden under a jade bracelet.
The girl spoke, almost inaudible, a whisper. “But I can never bring myself to cut deep enough.”
Chansung shivered. She had read his mind, and he didn’t know what to do now. But he knew he wanted to help. So he held out a hand to her tentatively, and she took it. Like a lost child, he led her gently to the hatch in the roof and brought her down inside.
---&---
Yeeun was sitting on an old leather couch, a soft woolen blanket wrapped around her for comfort. Her hands curled around a glass of warm bubble tea. She didn’t know weather it was the steam or herself that made a tear roll down her cheek and drop into the cup.
She’d failed. Again.
Her eyes roamed over the room once more. Photos, drawings, and pieces of handkerchiefs or napkins were tacked up randomly all over the drab gray walls, contrasting color with monotone black and white. Yeeun could have sworn she had seen a gum wrapper somewhere but she’d forgotten where it was by now, even though she’d counted the items on the wall at least three times since she got here. There were exactly two hundred. It looked as if someone had tried to cover up the once ugly room with better things. But you could still see the ugly through the pretty. Not much unlike herself, Yeeun thought. She was just able to cover it up better, jam up the nooks and crannies with whatever she had.
In the next room over, Yeeun could hear the boy who had found her having a conversation with his boss or leader or whoever.
“You always get into everyone else’s business, Chansung.”
“Well what was I supposed to do? Let her jump?”
A pause. “No, but bringing her here? Here? This is our home and you know it.”
Yeeun could imagine both of them, exasperated. She poked her head around the corner toward them. It looked as if they were having an intense stare-off. So she shrank back into the couch just in case the aura that was floating around in the room was contagious.
“I know, but I couldn’t just let her go. What if she decided to jump again?”
“Well you can’t let other people see her around with you. Just imagine…”
“You know what Jay? It’s not always about our reputation.” He was close to shouting now. “She’s a human being, no matter what she’s feeling inside, or what she’s trying to do. She needs care same as we do. Maybe you just work too hard, Jay. It’s not always about that. And besides, it’s not like back then.” Another pause, longer than the first. “Oh…I’m sorry…”
“No you’re right. I’m sorry too. I’m not thinking clearly.” He sighed. “I’m really not used to it yet, am I?” He let out a sound, halfway between a laugh and a sigh. Then there was a click of the door, and Chansung came shuffling into the room, wiping his face with a hand.
“Hey Chansung?” Yeeun said softly.
Chansung looked at her. “How do you know my name?” Then he groaned as he figured it out. “Aww man, you were listening to all that?”
Yeeun reddened, an apology to something she couldn’t have avoided, and he waved a hand. “No, don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” He sat down on the couch next to her and Yeeun could feel the old leather sink down below her. “So you were saying?”
“Sorry, but where am I?”
“Oh,” Chansung said, embarrassed. “You’re at 10 Out of 10. You know, the haircut place?”
Something clicked in her head and Yeeun paled. “Um, would there by any chance be a Wooyoung here?”
Chansung nodded. “Yeah, you want me to get him for you or something?”
Yeeun paled even more, biting her lip. “Oh, no, it’s all right. It’s nothing.” As she finished her sentence, her cellphone vibrated in her pocket, a jingle that was much too happy for the current mood. She sighed, reaching to answer it. She looked at the screen to see a picture of her Sunye, smiling, her photo ID. Whatever color had flowed into Yeeun’s cheeks drained back out and she wondered if she ought to pick it up. At last, she hit the “Accept” button with a shaky thumb, because she knew that if she didn’t, she would always live with that guilt. After all, wasn’t that why she didn’t jump?
“Sun-Sunye?” She said.
She knew Sunye could hear the insecurity in her voice. “Yeeun, are you all right? Where are you? I thought you were coming home, but after I got home from my voice lesson you weren’t there…” She trailed off.
“It’s okay. I’m at 10 Out of 10. It’s like ten or something blocks down from school.”
Yeeun heard Sunye moving around in the house, probably getting the keys for her bike or maybe a snack. “I know where it is. I’m coming to get you, just stay there okay?”
Yeeun sighed. “No, I’ll come home by myself. I’m fine.”
The door slammed on the other end of the phone. “No,” Sunye said, her voice firm. “I’m coming right now. See you in a bit.” And she hung up, a click signaling the disconnection before Yeeun could argue with her.
Yeeun dropped her hands into her lap, her phone tumbling to the floor, but she was too exhausted to move her torso the extra foot and go pick it up. So when Chansung reached down, took her phone and handed it back to her, she was surprised. She’d forgotten he was there.
Yeeun knew Chansung was about to cross into a touchy subject because he dropped his eyes down. “Did anyone know?”
Yeeun knew he was asking about her on the roof. She didn’t know if anyone did. She suspected maybe Sunye knew and a scarce few of her other friends were probably catching on. But they wouldn’t voice their thoughts, for the fear of it coming true.
She shook her head. “I dunno, but even if they don’t…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “I wouldn’t have jumped anyway.” It was the truth. She was too scared to do anything right. She looked up to see a mixture of emotions on Chansung’s face. Relief. Confusion. Maybe disappointment? “Oh wait,” she said hurriedly. “I mean, still, thank you for being there. You know.”
Chansung nodded. “Well that’s good.” He paused, fumbling with the words. “I think it’s better to know you wouldn’t have jumped than to know you would have jumped and I stopped you from doing it.” He stood up and the springs in the couch creaked as he did so. “Well, it’s almost six. You wanna go get something to eat?”
Yeeun was about to open her mouth and say yes; after all, who could say no to food? But then she remembered that Sunye was coming to pick her up. “I can’t. My friend’s coming.”
Chansung gestured to his right. “The restaurant is just next door. We can eat outside and keep an eye out for her.” When Yeeun hesitated, he took her hand and pulled her toward the door. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”
And when he smiled, Yeeun found herself at a loss for words, left with only the ability to follow his lead.
---&---
As Yeeun and Chansung trailed down the stairs into the room where all seven boys who were working glanced up at them, Yeeun heard the faint sound of bells jingling. A familiar sound. She ignored the stares of the boys that lingered on her as she walked to the glass windows front and peered through. Sure enough, Sunye was climbing off her bike in front of the store.
Yeeun froze for a second before rushing toward the door, but it was too late. Sunye stepped in, taking a step toward Yeeun, but suddenly, her attention wasn’t on Yeeun anymore. She was staring at one of the boys who stood in the back corner of the room. And he was staring right back at her.
“Wooyoung.”
“Sunye.”
Sunye pressed her lips together tightly at the sight of her ex-boyfriend while Yeeun wondered if that wound inside her had opened again. She stared at nothing at all, because she knew she had failed again.