we're a bit infinite
we’re a bit infinite
Chanyeol- Jiyeon (tiny AJ-Jiyeon, Chanyeol-Suzy) ~5,233 w
Romance, PG-13
With the right person, you don’t have to try so hard just to be happy.
→ For valerietastic and I don’t know what happened here so meh, I know it’s the most cliché thing in the world.
Jiyeon unplugs her earphones because the shouting within the room just won’t cease, all the curses, the lies, even over pre-ordered food set at the table. Annoyed, she gets up without looking back, ignoring her dad at once yelling ‘you come back here young lady!’ (through gritted teeth, she can imagine); she remains unnerved, steps hastily fading into the dim-lighted living room until it disappears completely right before she closes the front door and the house is then quiet.
Rolling up her sleeves (it’s a bad habit that won’t help especially in winter) while he rolls down the window of his dad’s old blue Mustang, she bends down to look at him, as he cracks a smile of his own. Eventually she opens the shotgun seat, settles herself in and waits. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press the accelerator either when he sees she hasn’t adjusted her seatbelt yet. Much like a father to a daughter, he does it for her himself, neatly tucking Jiyeon back as they finally leave the residence area, still without a word, still like always.
It is when they pass the signage of leaving Incheon that she sighs and leans against the glass, smelling the dryness of autumn, crisp and fine against the window.
“They’ll ground you.”
“Been through worse, you know.”
“I know.” And she smiles because it’s true. “Where to, captain?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jiyeon replies, lying back restlessly. “My whole world is going to end anyway, parents getting divorced, me failing school. I won’t even get into a good college. Nothing’s going right, Chanyeol. Nothing. Take me anywhere I wouldn’t care.”
Chanyeol extends his free hand to get hold of hers, squeezes it very tightly before release. “It’ll get better.”
“Wanna bet?”
“I bet you’ll get into Seoul National,” Chanyeol says, before adding in a whisper, “We’ll both get in.”
“I bet…” she pauses, then smiling. “I’ll get picked up from a gay bar two months after graduation but it’s okay ‘cause it’s not like my parents care. All dad cares about is his stupid job and mom just wants to replace us with her secret boyfriend.”
He turns at a curve towards another lane, less traffic, less people; the streetlights aren’t blinding his headlights and twilight feels softer than velvet. “I’ll be at that gay bar all the time, if that’s the case.”
She slaps his shoulder, laughing. “You seriously need help.” Both of them start to snicker it off imagining, for nothing, for whatever it is that hurts, for whatever is that may still live on hurting.
“Part of my job description,” he says as though reading her mind.
She looks outside now, still smiling. “The what?”
“Make Jiyeon laugh, duh.”
The girl’s head spins towards him, and she feels at once the blood mercilessly clouding her cheeks crimson, praying at the same time he doesn’t see it because he sure will take advantage of such petty romances. Cheesy. She can’t remember the last time he wasn’t. Chanyeol is just that, the one with the widest smile in her senior class, the one who deliberately forgets to bring jogging pants to gym and the one who brings more food enough to feed a whole army. Even around him, Jiyeon feels messed up and imperfect, but what else isn’t?
“Thanks.”
“Part of my job,” Chanyeol leans closer as she starts to step out. They’ve drove for ages, watched a movie and ate at their favorite restaurant just at the outskirts of Hongdae. Not really a date when both hardly talked (and no one feels obliged to do so, they think). It’s already midnight, the moon high, and the streets dully colder than they are in mornings.
“Driver needs to get paid.”
A foot already on the pavement, Jiyeon hurriedly plants a kiss on his cheek then leaves without saying goodbye yet it doesn’t scare either of them because they’ve got tomorrow and forever for that stuff. He beats the horn with two pumps (Jiyeon hates that because it’ll wake her parents up) before his car disappears at the bend and Jiyeon’s eyes simply follow her savior before reality dawns again.
She bets on him a lot.
-o0o-
“Chanyeol.” A knock; one, two times before he feels himself (and his tummy) grumble at the voice.
“Five more minutes, please.”
“Five minutes can’t wait,” his mother’s voice streams through his bedroom so he sits up in frustration, looks at the window and read it as daybreak: too early, he thinks. He stares at the torn calendar in front of his closet door and read Saturday of the 26th: too crazy, he thinks. “It’s the weekend, mom. Can’t I stay in bed?”
Not a response. It makes him shout, “Mom, seriously, what the hell can’t wait for -“
The door creaks a little, footsteps and whispers exchange, and someone as white as a ghost slips in, without saying anything, without even greeting him a good morning - she’s still in her pajamas too, hair un-kept, eyes as heavy as the world. As silent as daybreak, as wearisome as that Saturday of the 26th. Chanyeol stares in panic, raising his sheets up to cover his bare top, she biting her fingers in agitation. He then yells (because is there anything that he doesn’t like yelling about), “The fuck, kid, what are you doing here?”
She is quiet, and so is he. She rubs her eyes and the hidden tears emerge. Reading off each other’s mind, Chanyeol, flustered, calls her over, patting his tough mattress (the springs need loosening, he just forgets to do it) and knowing exactly about her greatest fears coming alive. Jiyeon climbs in, cries on his shoulder until there is nothing left to cry until seven that morning, and they lay there, his arms keeping her warm and safe, trying not to let the hurt get to them (to Chanyeol) any further.
“Your dad?” He speaks, lips pressed against the side of her head.
“Left.”
“Mom?”
“Said she won’t be coming back.”
“I’m here, okay,” Chanyeol says, wiping her eyes with his hand. “I’ll ask mom to make us some coffee.” He gets up now after noticing she isn’t anymore crying, pulls up a random shirt from the floor and slips into it while she just stares into the blankness, trying not to feel, trying not to be upset, and trying to ignore her heart going through so much seizure.
“Hey.”
His voice itself is instant caffeine, waking her up. “Yeah?” Jiyeon says.
He isn’t particularly sure she’ll like this line but he pulls it anyway, winking by the doorway, “You’ll stay with me instead, okay?”
“Grease,” she flashes a smile, one after a storm. She goes to him immediately, with Chanyeol firmly holding on to her as if she is as fragile as paper, the two going down the stairs. “You always make up the weirdest bullshit to make me feel better and don’t reason out this time just because it’s your job. Being my boyfriend is not an occupation, okay? I never asked you to be there for me so you don’t really have to do this if it’s just out of pity, really. Okay?” They head for the kitchen where his mother expectantly makes two more pancakes with maple syrup, and Jiyeon sits across him, her usual spot, and dives in on the food without further arguing.
“Good morning to you too, Jiyeon.”
That morning becomes the start of their lives.
-o0o-
“I’ve got some good news and bad news,” Chanyeol starts over lunch, handing Jiyeon his dessert and carton of half-finished milk. “Which one do you want to hear first?”
She separates her chopsticks to pick up the rolled rice his mother made them both, and without looking, she answers, “Bad news so I can troll you.”
Chanyeol sighs. “I got into detention today for laughing at the library after three warnings. It’s pathetic, really. Baekhyun’s fault.”
Jiyeon grins. “That doesn’t sound like bad news.”
“But the good news, no wait -the best news you’ll ever hear is…“ he trails off to grab her attention. It works. He falls silent to add momentum, Jiyeon looks up to him avidly, foreign eyes pleading him to spill.
“Yah!” She puts down her chopsticks harshly when he keeps quiet. “Spit it out already!”
“- we both got into Seoul National University!” He says and doesn’t realize he’s already standing up in excitement, Jiyeon as well, their eyes staring at each other, Jiyeon first in shock but later in delight that she ends up jumping up and down with him.
(“Is that Jiyeon?”
“Chanyeol’s ruining her, to be honest.”
“They’re the perfect pair of idiots I’ve seen.”
“Can they be weird somewhere else, not in the cafeteria?”)
“Seriously? I mean, how’d you know?”
“I checked online this morning,” Chanyeol says. “Checked the site, saw our names so close together like we were meant to be. We just need to wait for the confirmation letters.”
“Majors? What programs did we qualify for?” Jiyeon curiously asks him, gripped. “Are you sure it was me?”
“I’m positive, because I checked the birthdays and home addresses. You passed Engineering while I made it in to the social sciences,” he admits, looking away. “Now I know it sounds heavy and impossible for us to actually be classmates then, at least we’d be going to the same school, right?”
To start it with, Luna happens to be the one interested in Engineering and all the hell Jiyeon knows is this particular best friend forged a countersign, changed Jiyeon’s choice, and wrote this on her application form instead (so they can be ‘together’, Luna just won’t stop at nothing for this). Besides, she can’t even get through Calculus yet entirely, those fucking derivatives that she is sure to appear if ever she takes on Engineering. Chanyeol looks too happy to understand so instead of spoiling on the idea that she may back out, she just hugs him again, congratulating.
“You know what, let’s celebrate,” Jiyeon adds. “Let’s go out tonight for some ice cream, after class and it’s on me.”
Chanyeol gulped, sitting down slowly. “I… I can’t.”
“Why? What’s more important than this?”
“Detention.”
-o0o-
Jiyeon goes back to her dad after two weeks, the custody case still unfinished in court about how Jiyeon’s presence and time will be divided for both parties. And she honestly doesn’t care that much anymore because Chanyeol’s mom always favors having her over, and Chanyeol’s dad always tells her about she should just be his daughter, and Chanyeol just dies in suffocation with her bugging him when he’s playing Starcraft. Sometimes she thinks this is the right Park family she should have been raised in, except Chanyeol wouldn’t be her brother. His occupation is so much better.
On weekdays, her father is away for work, leaving the house all to herself. Classes are lenient now because summer is fast approaching, and soon enough in a blink of an eye university life will meet her with open arms.
“Eh, Jiyeon?” Luna calls as she enters through the door, tons of mails in her hands that Jiyeon has completely forgotten to pick up. A perfect Friday afternoon, the weekend already starts with the sleepover.
“Yup?” she answers with eyes on the TV, Jieun beside her but with an ear on the phone.
“You never told us you got into Kyunghee University,” Luna reads off from one, Jiyeon jumping off from the sofa and running towards her. “And even Dongguk Women’s University, are you kidding me?”
“I got into Dongguk?” she shouts, snapping the letter from her hands and tears up the envelope, flips down the panels and reads in excitement.
“Park Jiyeon, you have qualified to study in the most prestigious women’s university in the country. Under the degree program Industrial Design, we suggest you further contact our registrar for inquiries regarding your admission to the university… blah,” Jiyeon scrambles to the last part. “We are hoping to hear from you soon. Oh shit, Jieun I got into Dongguk!”
Her other friend goes to her with knitted brows, grabbing another letter. “But Kyunghee’s better. You passed Pharmacy, and you said you wanted to be a doctor. Baekhyun and I are going there, too.”
“Seoul National, because it’s a national university,” Luna chirps in, flicking a finger. “You’re going to Seoul National University under Engineering! With me, remember?”
“I don’t even like math, Luna stop it. I told you I’m going to refuse Seoul National,” she takes all the letters, carrying them towards the center table, as her friends plop next to her. “Look guys, I really wanted to go to Dongguk and I didn’t expect to actually make it to any college in the first place, okay? Look, I want this and trust me we’ll still hang out after class, during the weekends, even if we go to different schools.”
Jieun shrugs, looking away. “And Chanyeol?”
“What about Chanyeol?” Jiyeon asks afterwards, getting the bad churn of the tummy.
“Well, he still thinks you’re going to SNU with him,” Jieun answers, trying her hardest not maintain eye contact because Jiyeon will glare, she will snort, and she will sigh as much as she wants at this idea.
“I’m going to tell him, of course,” she simply replies, hearing herself lie.
Luna clears her throat, laughing. “Right, I remember that line.”
Jieun takes Jiyeon’s hands, and keeping a business-like tone, she adds, “You have to.”
“Are you suggesting that I’m going to keep this as a secret? You guys call yourselves my friends?”
“Well, when he gave you that hamster for your sixteenth birthday, and it died because you really didn’t like it so you didn’t feed it at all, and you just told him it escaped, then yes, we know you’ll keep this from him,” Luna starts on, receiving glares from both girls.
Jiyeon feels a little weak, lips tightened to twist. “I am going to tell him. He’ll understand. We’ll still see each other even if we don’t go to the same college.”
“But that’ll be hard. You’ll both be awfully busy then. You know how long distance relationships don’t last.”
“You know what else doesn’t last? Marriage, friendship, life, shit. So don’t tell me how hard it’ll be,” and then Jiyeon smiles mockingly, exiting now upstairs after driving away the few people who loved her so dearly, and regrets it a second later when she hears the TV being turned off, Luna yelling from below that they’re leaving, and hearing the door slam shut (must be Jieun being emotional). Unexplainable feeling, that loneliness once more, it starts from her toes and climbs up until she is embracing her pillow in fear or anxiety, or both, a phantom of self-hate. She takes out her phone, types ‘Sorry Jieun, I didn’t mean to shout’, and stays in bed until twilight and until she hears her father’s car now returning to the garage.
“It’s okay,” came as Jieun’s reply, and for that moment, Jiyeon breathes again.
No, it won’t be okay.
Not with Chanyeol either, she predicts.
-o0o-
It’s almost prom.
A month earlier, she and Jieun exchange cold glares and unwanted get-togethers, keeping Luna stuck and bridging. Prom committee head Jieun just leaves her extra prom tickets in her locker, and a letter about how Jiyeon should just admit to Chanyeol the truth. Afterwards a thank you and I’m-sorry-let’s-be-friends-again is signed right before sincerely, IU. Jiyeon thinks it’s about time (that they become friends, and that Chanyeol finds out).
“Dad rented an apartment for us near Seoul National,” Chanyeol says as they walk down the hallway. “He doesn’t trust the dormitory all too well. I hear it has a nice view of the city. Riding the bus back and forth will be exhausting for us, so you know. My parents just do too much, it’s annoying -”
Jiyeon keeps silent, pulling the other strap of her backpack. She bravely begins, fingers crossed that he understands. “Chanyeol, I have something to say.”
“-I know it’s too much, but mom also picked out your prom dress and it’ll look good paired up with my tux. And the Mustang’s all the ride we got, if you don’t mind. We can pick up Baekhyun and Jieun along the way-“
“Chanyeol, I -“
“Seoul National University will be exciting, and I know this because you’ll be there, with me and we’ll have fun, you know?” He turns to her, slipping his hand while she tries not to look too annoyed. She pulls it away, glaring because this war inside her has been waiting to come out.
“Chanyeol you dumbass, I’m trying to talk and all you can think about is yourself and what kind of cheap relationship do you want this to be, huh?” Her voice rose higher than usual, and it spells trouble in Chanyeol’s (everyone’s) ears.
“No need to be so… obsessed about it, sheesh,” Chanyeol cowers, but swings his bag a bit aggressively.
“No, you listen to me,” she stops, and he does, but they don’t even look at each other (they are never a couple, Jieun observes, that actually likes looking into each other’s eyes just for the sake of being in love). “You listen when I talk. You have to listen when I’m trying to tell you something, when I think you’re being too over the top with the pickup lines and the sweet things because you know exactly how I am not that kind of person but you still do it for some shitty reason. I hate how you never try to tell me about other things that obviously needs my decision -”
“Let’s get to the good part so I can get to class,” he mutters, knowing a lot of people are actually eyeing the two of them fight like a married couple.
Jiyeon huffs. “I’m not going to SNU with you, you hear me? I’ve been trying to tell you this, drop it off casually so that you’ll understand it but you won’t let me ‘cause all you talk about is this and that, about yourself and college shit. I want to go to Dongguk.”
“Why didn’t you tell me soon, though?” He is calmer, stoic even.
“Because I know you won’t let me,” she says almost in a whisper.
“Why won’t I let you?”
“Because… because you want me at Seoul National with you, and as much as I want that too it’s just that -“
The bell rings for fifth period, so Chanyeol nods at her, salutes briefly and lazily without saying goodbye, just like how they presently do so. But Jiyeon’s heart drops, and she feels (knows) that this can be it: a goodbye, an unfixable broken piece, broken heart which she never has felt before since Chanyeol is all she has, all she is. She follows him in time even in the crowd, holds his hand once more but he doesn’t turn his back.
“Chanyeol.”
“See you at prom, okay?” He says while taking his hand from her and he enters the classroom, unperturbed anymore.
-o0o-
She can’t accept the dress his mother sends over, no matter how gorgeously sparkly and perfect it is for her, fit for a princess in which she knows she is not. Not anymore. Chanyeol doesn’t like the term princess either, much prefers calling Jiyeon a witch (used to). She misses it suddenly, because Chanyeol won’t talk to her, won’t answer her text messages and calls for the past three days since the lobby incident; he even avoids taking the routes he knows she’s going to take to get to class.
He doesn’t take her to prom; neither one goes. She just hears Jieun complaining about Baekhyun as Prom King and Luna his queen, that backstabber and some other curses just because Jieun’s in the committee; why Baekhyun only smiles in Luna’s direction that night, drunk or sober, he needs a good kickboxing. Chanyeol doesn’t see her after graduation. He misses her but it’s not like he’ll tell her that. He wonders at night, if ever Jiyeon actually feels the same -he shakes his head. It’s over. Done. Past.
Jiyeon is right for the first time. Nothing lasts.
-o0o-
She shivers in the taxicab, even though his arms are around her. Snow is bound to brush over Incheon tonight (it’s not even December yet, this damn twisted climate change); this is her home where she left every piece of heartache behind for Dongguk. She hasn’t been here since six years ago, even occasional visits with her mom and dad on weekdays are situated in Seoul.
“They’re almost like my parents, really. And they asked me to come,” she responds. “I’m not leaving Seoul without you, that’s why.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind.” He never minds, which is kind of assuring for Jiyeon, not clingy or cheesy - just enough for her to believe she has fallen in love after a hiatus.
The house sits uptown, fenced with little white pickets, just like she remembers it, kind of western-looking even but that’s Mr. Park for you, mowed the lawn himself because his son just can’t lift a finger, did the paint renovation because his son is always out.
He pays for the ride while Jiyeon let herself reminisce and let the memories play inside her head, like how they are supposed to. A smile is then by her face, knowing exactly why she’s here in the first place, Chuseok after all is always important.
The door opens, Mrs. Park with her curly white hair stands, still with the most beautiful smile in the world. “Jiyeon-ah! I’m glad you could come! Come on in.”
Holding his hand, they walk towards the porch, discussing some important matters once they step into their territory: no offers of drinking, no bragging, no excuses, always bow your head to show manners; and he agrees to all of them with a mere smile, no sign of nervousness whatsoever. The interior decoration the moment they are in also awes her; the bright red curtains and lovely indoor lanterns. Mrs. Park is still Mrs. Park, her husband still the good old daddy -Jiyeon wonders if Park Chanyeol hasn’t changed either.
By the dining table Jiyeon sees him, feasting and sharing a meal with another girl, though it makes her excited and infuriated at the same time, she tightens her grip with her boyfriend before his dad and mom stood abreast them. They haven’t talked to each other for a million years.
“Ah, this is Jaeseop,” Jiyeon introduces. “My boyfriend of four years.”
Chanyeol hears. She makes sure he does. “I remember when she was still very young and going out with our Chanyeol over here.”
“Ex-boyfriend Chanyeol,” he extends his hand over the table, Jiyeon rolling her eyes at how it’s the first time since forever, and that is all he ends up greeting with. Haven’t changed one bit.
Jaeseop shakes hands with everyone, remembering his manners to bow at complete 90 degrees, until they are asked to sit and have dinner with the rest.
“Sorry about coming in late,” Jiyeon then says. There is a competitive air between the two, not said, not announced, but she feels it, and she drowns thinking she has been replaced by the girl across her. She sure is damn prettier than Jiyeon, the way her eyes fold up and down, the way her smile is too innocent against her devilish one. A competition it sure is and she senses Chanyeol is thinking of the same exact thing.
“Jiyeon it’s been a long time.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” She smirks, slicing her meat in displeasure.
“Oh by the way Suzy, this is Jiyeon,” he tells the girl. She even has a prettier name, Jiyeon thinks. No wonder. “Family friend. Like a sister. Ex-girlfriend.”
Suzy grins. “I should be jealous then, seeing as though you two were each other’s first love.”
“Nah, it wasn’t like that. Friends turned to dependency thing, sort of relationship.”
“Frenemies,” Jiyeon corrects, and Jaeseop chokes a little at the term.
The other visitor clears her throat, tucks a hair behind her ear. “As long as it’s over, we have nothing to worry about anymore, do we?”
She should be worried, and it’s evident, Jiyeon thinks. And Jaeseop as well, which Chanyeol suspects he kind of is.
“This shrimp is very delicious, Mrs. Park,” Jaeseop comments, hearing it crunch, at an attempt to break the awkward ice the conversation seemed to crash in. He picks up one with his chopsticks, tries to feed Jiyeon with it after seeing she doesn’t have one in her plate, as she appreciatively declines with a smile. “Ah, come on! Try some.”
Chanyeol clicks tongue. “That’ll be the death of her.”
“Pardon?” Jaeseop looks at him.
The boy glances back, a little shaken now with the confrontation. “What I mean is… you should skin it first. Jiyeon has poor digestion and that crispy part of the shrimp’s going to cause her a night by the toilet.”
Jaeseop, stunned, gives Jiyeon a questioning look, Suzy almost doing the exact same thing to Chanyeol. “No, of course not! Don’t believe him,” Jiyeon tries to prove it wrong, taking in the food and chewing it. “I can handle it.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’m twenty-four, my digestion’s better now.”
“Liar.”
“Moron.”
“Name-calling isn’t allowed in this table,” refereed his mother, raising her hand while giggling. “Why can’t you two eat in peace? It’s been what, five or six years since you have seen each other. Let’s all eat a little quietly now. Our visitors won’t like it.”
The dinner is something all four surely remembers until their graves.
-o0o-
Sync. Minds at sync, bodies at sync, they both know that very well.
Their second meeting turns out to be more passionate, in Seoul, in her apartment; she and Jaeseop don’t seem to click profoundly as they have for the last weeks (“It’s because of me,” Chanyeol says while drawing circles on her back). She calls Chanyeol over, to have some tea, or watch the DVD she rented out or just sleep with her, that’s a bit of the worse that can happen.
“It took you two years to move on?” Chanyeol says out of nowhere, staring at the ceiling fan above, at a quarter to four in the morning, his one arm over his head, the other one pulling her closer.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jiyeon crawls next to him, with closed eyes, tired and spent.
“You said you’ve been dating this Jaeseop for four years, and we stopped dating in senior year,” he says, doing the math. “That makes you 20. Is he better at this than I am?”
She rolls her eyes, rolls away even, turning her back on him. “Grow up, Chanyeol. We’re doing something illegal, by all means I never asked about how Suzy does it.”
“Oh she’s awful.”
Jiyeon starts chuckling at his instant reply. “That’s nice that you two aren’t breaking up yet because of it.”
“I might,” Chanyeol encourages, and Jiyeon freezes, stoned that she wants to pull out the hands of time or pull out her hair in one go; because this is wrong, and it doesn’t take a genius, an interior designer like herself or a law student like Chanyeol, to catch on what they’re doing.
“If you don’t shut up, I swear I will throw you out with your clothes and everything, at this very hour. Enough with this bullshit, we’re over and this happened because -”
“Because I love you Jiyeon?”
“Not the words, Chanyeol,” she shakes her head. “You don’t need to say that if all you want is for us to get back together.”
Chanyeol inhales. “I’ll break up with her, if you break up with him, and let’s start all over.”
Not anymore surprised, Jiyeon closes her eyes without answering, let the drowsiness take her to dreamland, to forget, but Chanyeol knows she’s agreeing to it, a tough bargain, but he knows he won. He wins her back.
He wins with little to spare, that’s for sure.
-o0o-
Jiyeon unplugs her earphones because she thinks life has cheated on her more than a million times in the past. Like how her parents can’t even utter each other’s names anymore, or the fact that Jieun forgets her birthday on purpose, or even the latest one where Chanyeol promises to break up with his unexciting girlfriend for her, if she does the same but ends up getting dished out. She visits his place, sees him busy cooking some kind of cookies with her (please it’s so obvious that she’s too good for him), and that evens out the hatred.
She tries not to be bothered: she’s used to this. Nothing lasts. Nothing should hurt.
An unfamiliar silver Porsche stops in front of her, with a rather familiar driver. Jiyeon doesn’t want to even look at him but her heart forces her to. The bus stop is free of buses, and it’s Christmas, she needs to catch a bus back to Incheon to see her mom, or meet up with her father, or both if that miracle ever comes.
Rolling up her sleeves (it’s a bad habit especially now that it’s winter) while he rolls down the window of his car, she bends down to look at him, as he cracks a smile of his own. Eventually she opens the shotgun seat, settles herself in and waits. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press the accelerator either when he sees she hasn’t adjusted her seatbelt yet. Just like before, he tucks he, without saying a word. It doesn’t bother either of them.
It is when they pass the signage of leaving Seoul that she feels dejavu.
“I broke up with Suzy that day.”
She snorts. “So?”
“So I can be with you, silly.”
“What for?”
“Applying as a boyfriend?” Chanyeol answers, driving slowly now against traffic. “I’ll work hard to get promoted to something higher.”
Jiyeon smiles, arms crossed, head leaning against the glass. “And if I say you aren’t getting the job?”
He grimaces. “As if someone else is applying for that job! I’m the only person who can tolerate you, you bipolar bitch, how dare you reject me.”
“We’re over, Chanyeol. I don’t just recycle my employees.”
“It’s not recycling,” Chanyeol defends back, turning at a curve. “It’s called missing someone because you loved them after all these years.”
“It’s not real, Yeollie,” she sadly tells him.
Chanyeol extends his free hand to get hold of hers, squeezes it very tightly. “Wanna bet?”
Jiyeon sometimes gets jealous of Jieun having all the luck with getting married early and finding her one true love, a son of a millionaire as if she herself isn’t living a life of a princess already. Sometimes it’s unfair that she gets stuck with Chanyeol over here, and never even tasting the sweet cup of luck and bright lights, and the smell of money or fame, or what Paris looks like or how the sun is prickly in the summer because she’s too busy earning a living under it.
Then Jiyeon realizes she’s been looking at all the wrong things in this world, all the finite ones that can be easily replaced.
“Where to, captain?” He asks, still not letting go of her hand.
“Home, Chanyeol,” she answers a little brightly now, pressing his hand in response. “Let’s go home.”
Chanyeol- Jiyeon (tiny AJ-Jiyeon, Chanyeol-Suzy) ~5,233 w
Romance, PG-13
With the right person, you don’t have to try so hard just to be happy.
→ For valerietastic and I don’t know what happened here so meh, I know it’s the most cliché thing in the world.
Jiyeon unplugs her earphones because the shouting within the room just won’t cease, all the curses, the lies, even over pre-ordered food set at the table. Annoyed, she gets up without looking back, ignoring her dad at once yelling ‘you come back here young lady!’ (through gritted teeth, she can imagine); she remains unnerved, steps hastily fading into the dim-lighted living room until it disappears completely right before she closes the front door and the house is then quiet.
Rolling up her sleeves (it’s a bad habit that won’t help especially in winter) while he rolls down the window of his dad’s old blue Mustang, she bends down to look at him, as he cracks a smile of his own. Eventually she opens the shotgun seat, settles herself in and waits. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press the accelerator either when he sees she hasn’t adjusted her seatbelt yet. Much like a father to a daughter, he does it for her himself, neatly tucking Jiyeon back as they finally leave the residence area, still without a word, still like always.
It is when they pass the signage of leaving Incheon that she sighs and leans against the glass, smelling the dryness of autumn, crisp and fine against the window.
“They’ll ground you.”
“Been through worse, you know.”
“I know.” And she smiles because it’s true. “Where to, captain?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jiyeon replies, lying back restlessly. “My whole world is going to end anyway, parents getting divorced, me failing school. I won’t even get into a good college. Nothing’s going right, Chanyeol. Nothing. Take me anywhere I wouldn’t care.”
Chanyeol extends his free hand to get hold of hers, squeezes it very tightly before release. “It’ll get better.”
“Wanna bet?”
“I bet you’ll get into Seoul National,” Chanyeol says, before adding in a whisper, “We’ll both get in.”
“I bet…” she pauses, then smiling. “I’ll get picked up from a gay bar two months after graduation but it’s okay ‘cause it’s not like my parents care. All dad cares about is his stupid job and mom just wants to replace us with her secret boyfriend.”
He turns at a curve towards another lane, less traffic, less people; the streetlights aren’t blinding his headlights and twilight feels softer than velvet. “I’ll be at that gay bar all the time, if that’s the case.”
She slaps his shoulder, laughing. “You seriously need help.” Both of them start to snicker it off imagining, for nothing, for whatever it is that hurts, for whatever is that may still live on hurting.
“Part of my job description,” he says as though reading her mind.
She looks outside now, still smiling. “The what?”
“Make Jiyeon laugh, duh.”
The girl’s head spins towards him, and she feels at once the blood mercilessly clouding her cheeks crimson, praying at the same time he doesn’t see it because he sure will take advantage of such petty romances. Cheesy. She can’t remember the last time he wasn’t. Chanyeol is just that, the one with the widest smile in her senior class, the one who deliberately forgets to bring jogging pants to gym and the one who brings more food enough to feed a whole army. Even around him, Jiyeon feels messed up and imperfect, but what else isn’t?
“Thanks.”
“Part of my job,” Chanyeol leans closer as she starts to step out. They’ve drove for ages, watched a movie and ate at their favorite restaurant just at the outskirts of Hongdae. Not really a date when both hardly talked (and no one feels obliged to do so, they think). It’s already midnight, the moon high, and the streets dully colder than they are in mornings.
“Driver needs to get paid.”
A foot already on the pavement, Jiyeon hurriedly plants a kiss on his cheek then leaves without saying goodbye yet it doesn’t scare either of them because they’ve got tomorrow and forever for that stuff. He beats the horn with two pumps (Jiyeon hates that because it’ll wake her parents up) before his car disappears at the bend and Jiyeon’s eyes simply follow her savior before reality dawns again.
She bets on him a lot.
-o0o-
“Chanyeol.” A knock; one, two times before he feels himself (and his tummy) grumble at the voice.
“Five more minutes, please.”
“Five minutes can’t wait,” his mother’s voice streams through his bedroom so he sits up in frustration, looks at the window and read it as daybreak: too early, he thinks. He stares at the torn calendar in front of his closet door and read Saturday of the 26th: too crazy, he thinks. “It’s the weekend, mom. Can’t I stay in bed?”
Not a response. It makes him shout, “Mom, seriously, what the hell can’t wait for -“
The door creaks a little, footsteps and whispers exchange, and someone as white as a ghost slips in, without saying anything, without even greeting him a good morning - she’s still in her pajamas too, hair un-kept, eyes as heavy as the world. As silent as daybreak, as wearisome as that Saturday of the 26th. Chanyeol stares in panic, raising his sheets up to cover his bare top, she biting her fingers in agitation. He then yells (because is there anything that he doesn’t like yelling about), “The fuck, kid, what are you doing here?”
She is quiet, and so is he. She rubs her eyes and the hidden tears emerge. Reading off each other’s mind, Chanyeol, flustered, calls her over, patting his tough mattress (the springs need loosening, he just forgets to do it) and knowing exactly about her greatest fears coming alive. Jiyeon climbs in, cries on his shoulder until there is nothing left to cry until seven that morning, and they lay there, his arms keeping her warm and safe, trying not to let the hurt get to them (to Chanyeol) any further.
“Your dad?” He speaks, lips pressed against the side of her head.
“Left.”
“Mom?”
“Said she won’t be coming back.”
“I’m here, okay,” Chanyeol says, wiping her eyes with his hand. “I’ll ask mom to make us some coffee.” He gets up now after noticing she isn’t anymore crying, pulls up a random shirt from the floor and slips into it while she just stares into the blankness, trying not to feel, trying not to be upset, and trying to ignore her heart going through so much seizure.
“Hey.”
His voice itself is instant caffeine, waking her up. “Yeah?” Jiyeon says.
He isn’t particularly sure she’ll like this line but he pulls it anyway, winking by the doorway, “You’ll stay with me instead, okay?”
“Grease,” she flashes a smile, one after a storm. She goes to him immediately, with Chanyeol firmly holding on to her as if she is as fragile as paper, the two going down the stairs. “You always make up the weirdest bullshit to make me feel better and don’t reason out this time just because it’s your job. Being my boyfriend is not an occupation, okay? I never asked you to be there for me so you don’t really have to do this if it’s just out of pity, really. Okay?” They head for the kitchen where his mother expectantly makes two more pancakes with maple syrup, and Jiyeon sits across him, her usual spot, and dives in on the food without further arguing.
“Good morning to you too, Jiyeon.”
That morning becomes the start of their lives.
-o0o-
“I’ve got some good news and bad news,” Chanyeol starts over lunch, handing Jiyeon his dessert and carton of half-finished milk. “Which one do you want to hear first?”
She separates her chopsticks to pick up the rolled rice his mother made them both, and without looking, she answers, “Bad news so I can troll you.”
Chanyeol sighs. “I got into detention today for laughing at the library after three warnings. It’s pathetic, really. Baekhyun’s fault.”
Jiyeon grins. “That doesn’t sound like bad news.”
“But the good news, no wait -the best news you’ll ever hear is…“ he trails off to grab her attention. It works. He falls silent to add momentum, Jiyeon looks up to him avidly, foreign eyes pleading him to spill.
“Yah!” She puts down her chopsticks harshly when he keeps quiet. “Spit it out already!”
“- we both got into Seoul National University!” He says and doesn’t realize he’s already standing up in excitement, Jiyeon as well, their eyes staring at each other, Jiyeon first in shock but later in delight that she ends up jumping up and down with him.
(“Is that Jiyeon?”
“Chanyeol’s ruining her, to be honest.”
“They’re the perfect pair of idiots I’ve seen.”
“Can they be weird somewhere else, not in the cafeteria?”)
“Seriously? I mean, how’d you know?”
“I checked online this morning,” Chanyeol says. “Checked the site, saw our names so close together like we were meant to be. We just need to wait for the confirmation letters.”
“Majors? What programs did we qualify for?” Jiyeon curiously asks him, gripped. “Are you sure it was me?”
“I’m positive, because I checked the birthdays and home addresses. You passed Engineering while I made it in to the social sciences,” he admits, looking away. “Now I know it sounds heavy and impossible for us to actually be classmates then, at least we’d be going to the same school, right?”
To start it with, Luna happens to be the one interested in Engineering and all the hell Jiyeon knows is this particular best friend forged a countersign, changed Jiyeon’s choice, and wrote this on her application form instead (so they can be ‘together’, Luna just won’t stop at nothing for this). Besides, she can’t even get through Calculus yet entirely, those fucking derivatives that she is sure to appear if ever she takes on Engineering. Chanyeol looks too happy to understand so instead of spoiling on the idea that she may back out, she just hugs him again, congratulating.
“You know what, let’s celebrate,” Jiyeon adds. “Let’s go out tonight for some ice cream, after class and it’s on me.”
Chanyeol gulped, sitting down slowly. “I… I can’t.”
“Why? What’s more important than this?”
“Detention.”
-o0o-
Jiyeon goes back to her dad after two weeks, the custody case still unfinished in court about how Jiyeon’s presence and time will be divided for both parties. And she honestly doesn’t care that much anymore because Chanyeol’s mom always favors having her over, and Chanyeol’s dad always tells her about she should just be his daughter, and Chanyeol just dies in suffocation with her bugging him when he’s playing Starcraft. Sometimes she thinks this is the right Park family she should have been raised in, except Chanyeol wouldn’t be her brother. His occupation is so much better.
On weekdays, her father is away for work, leaving the house all to herself. Classes are lenient now because summer is fast approaching, and soon enough in a blink of an eye university life will meet her with open arms.
“Eh, Jiyeon?” Luna calls as she enters through the door, tons of mails in her hands that Jiyeon has completely forgotten to pick up. A perfect Friday afternoon, the weekend already starts with the sleepover.
“Yup?” she answers with eyes on the TV, Jieun beside her but with an ear on the phone.
“You never told us you got into Kyunghee University,” Luna reads off from one, Jiyeon jumping off from the sofa and running towards her. “And even Dongguk Women’s University, are you kidding me?”
“I got into Dongguk?” she shouts, snapping the letter from her hands and tears up the envelope, flips down the panels and reads in excitement.
“Park Jiyeon, you have qualified to study in the most prestigious women’s university in the country. Under the degree program Industrial Design, we suggest you further contact our registrar for inquiries regarding your admission to the university… blah,” Jiyeon scrambles to the last part. “We are hoping to hear from you soon. Oh shit, Jieun I got into Dongguk!”
Her other friend goes to her with knitted brows, grabbing another letter. “But Kyunghee’s better. You passed Pharmacy, and you said you wanted to be a doctor. Baekhyun and I are going there, too.”
“Seoul National, because it’s a national university,” Luna chirps in, flicking a finger. “You’re going to Seoul National University under Engineering! With me, remember?”
“I don’t even like math, Luna stop it. I told you I’m going to refuse Seoul National,” she takes all the letters, carrying them towards the center table, as her friends plop next to her. “Look guys, I really wanted to go to Dongguk and I didn’t expect to actually make it to any college in the first place, okay? Look, I want this and trust me we’ll still hang out after class, during the weekends, even if we go to different schools.”
Jieun shrugs, looking away. “And Chanyeol?”
“What about Chanyeol?” Jiyeon asks afterwards, getting the bad churn of the tummy.
“Well, he still thinks you’re going to SNU with him,” Jieun answers, trying her hardest not maintain eye contact because Jiyeon will glare, she will snort, and she will sigh as much as she wants at this idea.
“I’m going to tell him, of course,” she simply replies, hearing herself lie.
Luna clears her throat, laughing. “Right, I remember that line.”
Jieun takes Jiyeon’s hands, and keeping a business-like tone, she adds, “You have to.”
“Are you suggesting that I’m going to keep this as a secret? You guys call yourselves my friends?”
“Well, when he gave you that hamster for your sixteenth birthday, and it died because you really didn’t like it so you didn’t feed it at all, and you just told him it escaped, then yes, we know you’ll keep this from him,” Luna starts on, receiving glares from both girls.
Jiyeon feels a little weak, lips tightened to twist. “I am going to tell him. He’ll understand. We’ll still see each other even if we don’t go to the same college.”
“But that’ll be hard. You’ll both be awfully busy then. You know how long distance relationships don’t last.”
“You know what else doesn’t last? Marriage, friendship, life, shit. So don’t tell me how hard it’ll be,” and then Jiyeon smiles mockingly, exiting now upstairs after driving away the few people who loved her so dearly, and regrets it a second later when she hears the TV being turned off, Luna yelling from below that they’re leaving, and hearing the door slam shut (must be Jieun being emotional). Unexplainable feeling, that loneliness once more, it starts from her toes and climbs up until she is embracing her pillow in fear or anxiety, or both, a phantom of self-hate. She takes out her phone, types ‘Sorry Jieun, I didn’t mean to shout’, and stays in bed until twilight and until she hears her father’s car now returning to the garage.
“It’s okay,” came as Jieun’s reply, and for that moment, Jiyeon breathes again.
No, it won’t be okay.
Not with Chanyeol either, she predicts.
-o0o-
It’s almost prom.
A month earlier, she and Jieun exchange cold glares and unwanted get-togethers, keeping Luna stuck and bridging. Prom committee head Jieun just leaves her extra prom tickets in her locker, and a letter about how Jiyeon should just admit to Chanyeol the truth. Afterwards a thank you and I’m-sorry-let’s-be-friends-again is signed right before sincerely, IU. Jiyeon thinks it’s about time (that they become friends, and that Chanyeol finds out).
“Dad rented an apartment for us near Seoul National,” Chanyeol says as they walk down the hallway. “He doesn’t trust the dormitory all too well. I hear it has a nice view of the city. Riding the bus back and forth will be exhausting for us, so you know. My parents just do too much, it’s annoying -”
Jiyeon keeps silent, pulling the other strap of her backpack. She bravely begins, fingers crossed that he understands. “Chanyeol, I have something to say.”
“-I know it’s too much, but mom also picked out your prom dress and it’ll look good paired up with my tux. And the Mustang’s all the ride we got, if you don’t mind. We can pick up Baekhyun and Jieun along the way-“
“Chanyeol, I -“
“Seoul National University will be exciting, and I know this because you’ll be there, with me and we’ll have fun, you know?” He turns to her, slipping his hand while she tries not to look too annoyed. She pulls it away, glaring because this war inside her has been waiting to come out.
“Chanyeol you dumbass, I’m trying to talk and all you can think about is yourself and what kind of cheap relationship do you want this to be, huh?” Her voice rose higher than usual, and it spells trouble in Chanyeol’s (everyone’s) ears.
“No need to be so… obsessed about it, sheesh,” Chanyeol cowers, but swings his bag a bit aggressively.
“No, you listen to me,” she stops, and he does, but they don’t even look at each other (they are never a couple, Jieun observes, that actually likes looking into each other’s eyes just for the sake of being in love). “You listen when I talk. You have to listen when I’m trying to tell you something, when I think you’re being too over the top with the pickup lines and the sweet things because you know exactly how I am not that kind of person but you still do it for some shitty reason. I hate how you never try to tell me about other things that obviously needs my decision -”
“Let’s get to the good part so I can get to class,” he mutters, knowing a lot of people are actually eyeing the two of them fight like a married couple.
Jiyeon huffs. “I’m not going to SNU with you, you hear me? I’ve been trying to tell you this, drop it off casually so that you’ll understand it but you won’t let me ‘cause all you talk about is this and that, about yourself and college shit. I want to go to Dongguk.”
“Why didn’t you tell me soon, though?” He is calmer, stoic even.
“Because I know you won’t let me,” she says almost in a whisper.
“Why won’t I let you?”
“Because… because you want me at Seoul National with you, and as much as I want that too it’s just that -“
The bell rings for fifth period, so Chanyeol nods at her, salutes briefly and lazily without saying goodbye, just like how they presently do so. But Jiyeon’s heart drops, and she feels (knows) that this can be it: a goodbye, an unfixable broken piece, broken heart which she never has felt before since Chanyeol is all she has, all she is. She follows him in time even in the crowd, holds his hand once more but he doesn’t turn his back.
“Chanyeol.”
“See you at prom, okay?” He says while taking his hand from her and he enters the classroom, unperturbed anymore.
-o0o-
She can’t accept the dress his mother sends over, no matter how gorgeously sparkly and perfect it is for her, fit for a princess in which she knows she is not. Not anymore. Chanyeol doesn’t like the term princess either, much prefers calling Jiyeon a witch (used to). She misses it suddenly, because Chanyeol won’t talk to her, won’t answer her text messages and calls for the past three days since the lobby incident; he even avoids taking the routes he knows she’s going to take to get to class.
He doesn’t take her to prom; neither one goes. She just hears Jieun complaining about Baekhyun as Prom King and Luna his queen, that backstabber and some other curses just because Jieun’s in the committee; why Baekhyun only smiles in Luna’s direction that night, drunk or sober, he needs a good kickboxing. Chanyeol doesn’t see her after graduation. He misses her but it’s not like he’ll tell her that. He wonders at night, if ever Jiyeon actually feels the same -he shakes his head. It’s over. Done. Past.
Jiyeon is right for the first time. Nothing lasts.
-o0o-
She shivers in the taxicab, even though his arms are around her. Snow is bound to brush over Incheon tonight (it’s not even December yet, this damn twisted climate change); this is her home where she left every piece of heartache behind for Dongguk. She hasn’t been here since six years ago, even occasional visits with her mom and dad on weekdays are situated in Seoul.
“They’re almost like my parents, really. And they asked me to come,” she responds. “I’m not leaving Seoul without you, that’s why.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind.” He never minds, which is kind of assuring for Jiyeon, not clingy or cheesy - just enough for her to believe she has fallen in love after a hiatus.
The house sits uptown, fenced with little white pickets, just like she remembers it, kind of western-looking even but that’s Mr. Park for you, mowed the lawn himself because his son just can’t lift a finger, did the paint renovation because his son is always out.
He pays for the ride while Jiyeon let herself reminisce and let the memories play inside her head, like how they are supposed to. A smile is then by her face, knowing exactly why she’s here in the first place, Chuseok after all is always important.
The door opens, Mrs. Park with her curly white hair stands, still with the most beautiful smile in the world. “Jiyeon-ah! I’m glad you could come! Come on in.”
Holding his hand, they walk towards the porch, discussing some important matters once they step into their territory: no offers of drinking, no bragging, no excuses, always bow your head to show manners; and he agrees to all of them with a mere smile, no sign of nervousness whatsoever. The interior decoration the moment they are in also awes her; the bright red curtains and lovely indoor lanterns. Mrs. Park is still Mrs. Park, her husband still the good old daddy -Jiyeon wonders if Park Chanyeol hasn’t changed either.
By the dining table Jiyeon sees him, feasting and sharing a meal with another girl, though it makes her excited and infuriated at the same time, she tightens her grip with her boyfriend before his dad and mom stood abreast them. They haven’t talked to each other for a million years.
“Ah, this is Jaeseop,” Jiyeon introduces. “My boyfriend of four years.”
Chanyeol hears. She makes sure he does. “I remember when she was still very young and going out with our Chanyeol over here.”
“Ex-boyfriend Chanyeol,” he extends his hand over the table, Jiyeon rolling her eyes at how it’s the first time since forever, and that is all he ends up greeting with. Haven’t changed one bit.
Jaeseop shakes hands with everyone, remembering his manners to bow at complete 90 degrees, until they are asked to sit and have dinner with the rest.
“Sorry about coming in late,” Jiyeon then says. There is a competitive air between the two, not said, not announced, but she feels it, and she drowns thinking she has been replaced by the girl across her. She sure is damn prettier than Jiyeon, the way her eyes fold up and down, the way her smile is too innocent against her devilish one. A competition it sure is and she senses Chanyeol is thinking of the same exact thing.
“Jiyeon it’s been a long time.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” She smirks, slicing her meat in displeasure.
“Oh by the way Suzy, this is Jiyeon,” he tells the girl. She even has a prettier name, Jiyeon thinks. No wonder. “Family friend. Like a sister. Ex-girlfriend.”
Suzy grins. “I should be jealous then, seeing as though you two were each other’s first love.”
“Nah, it wasn’t like that. Friends turned to dependency thing, sort of relationship.”
“Frenemies,” Jiyeon corrects, and Jaeseop chokes a little at the term.
The other visitor clears her throat, tucks a hair behind her ear. “As long as it’s over, we have nothing to worry about anymore, do we?”
She should be worried, and it’s evident, Jiyeon thinks. And Jaeseop as well, which Chanyeol suspects he kind of is.
“This shrimp is very delicious, Mrs. Park,” Jaeseop comments, hearing it crunch, at an attempt to break the awkward ice the conversation seemed to crash in. He picks up one with his chopsticks, tries to feed Jiyeon with it after seeing she doesn’t have one in her plate, as she appreciatively declines with a smile. “Ah, come on! Try some.”
Chanyeol clicks tongue. “That’ll be the death of her.”
“Pardon?” Jaeseop looks at him.
The boy glances back, a little shaken now with the confrontation. “What I mean is… you should skin it first. Jiyeon has poor digestion and that crispy part of the shrimp’s going to cause her a night by the toilet.”
Jaeseop, stunned, gives Jiyeon a questioning look, Suzy almost doing the exact same thing to Chanyeol. “No, of course not! Don’t believe him,” Jiyeon tries to prove it wrong, taking in the food and chewing it. “I can handle it.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’m twenty-four, my digestion’s better now.”
“Liar.”
“Moron.”
“Name-calling isn’t allowed in this table,” refereed his mother, raising her hand while giggling. “Why can’t you two eat in peace? It’s been what, five or six years since you have seen each other. Let’s all eat a little quietly now. Our visitors won’t like it.”
The dinner is something all four surely remembers until their graves.
-o0o-
Sync. Minds at sync, bodies at sync, they both know that very well.
Their second meeting turns out to be more passionate, in Seoul, in her apartment; she and Jaeseop don’t seem to click profoundly as they have for the last weeks (“It’s because of me,” Chanyeol says while drawing circles on her back). She calls Chanyeol over, to have some tea, or watch the DVD she rented out or just sleep with her, that’s a bit of the worse that can happen.
“It took you two years to move on?” Chanyeol says out of nowhere, staring at the ceiling fan above, at a quarter to four in the morning, his one arm over his head, the other one pulling her closer.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jiyeon crawls next to him, with closed eyes, tired and spent.
“You said you’ve been dating this Jaeseop for four years, and we stopped dating in senior year,” he says, doing the math. “That makes you 20. Is he better at this than I am?”
She rolls her eyes, rolls away even, turning her back on him. “Grow up, Chanyeol. We’re doing something illegal, by all means I never asked about how Suzy does it.”
“Oh she’s awful.”
Jiyeon starts chuckling at his instant reply. “That’s nice that you two aren’t breaking up yet because of it.”
“I might,” Chanyeol encourages, and Jiyeon freezes, stoned that she wants to pull out the hands of time or pull out her hair in one go; because this is wrong, and it doesn’t take a genius, an interior designer like herself or a law student like Chanyeol, to catch on what they’re doing.
“If you don’t shut up, I swear I will throw you out with your clothes and everything, at this very hour. Enough with this bullshit, we’re over and this happened because -”
“Because I love you Jiyeon?”
“Not the words, Chanyeol,” she shakes her head. “You don’t need to say that if all you want is for us to get back together.”
Chanyeol inhales. “I’ll break up with her, if you break up with him, and let’s start all over.”
Not anymore surprised, Jiyeon closes her eyes without answering, let the drowsiness take her to dreamland, to forget, but Chanyeol knows she’s agreeing to it, a tough bargain, but he knows he won. He wins her back.
He wins with little to spare, that’s for sure.
-o0o-
Jiyeon unplugs her earphones because she thinks life has cheated on her more than a million times in the past. Like how her parents can’t even utter each other’s names anymore, or the fact that Jieun forgets her birthday on purpose, or even the latest one where Chanyeol promises to break up with his unexciting girlfriend for her, if she does the same but ends up getting dished out. She visits his place, sees him busy cooking some kind of cookies with her (please it’s so obvious that she’s too good for him), and that evens out the hatred.
She tries not to be bothered: she’s used to this. Nothing lasts. Nothing should hurt.
An unfamiliar silver Porsche stops in front of her, with a rather familiar driver. Jiyeon doesn’t want to even look at him but her heart forces her to. The bus stop is free of buses, and it’s Christmas, she needs to catch a bus back to Incheon to see her mom, or meet up with her father, or both if that miracle ever comes.
Rolling up her sleeves (it’s a bad habit especially now that it’s winter) while he rolls down the window of his car, she bends down to look at him, as he cracks a smile of his own. Eventually she opens the shotgun seat, settles herself in and waits. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press the accelerator either when he sees she hasn’t adjusted her seatbelt yet. Just like before, he tucks he, without saying a word. It doesn’t bother either of them.
It is when they pass the signage of leaving Seoul that she feels dejavu.
“I broke up with Suzy that day.”
She snorts. “So?”
“So I can be with you, silly.”
“What for?”
“Applying as a boyfriend?” Chanyeol answers, driving slowly now against traffic. “I’ll work hard to get promoted to something higher.”
Jiyeon smiles, arms crossed, head leaning against the glass. “And if I say you aren’t getting the job?”
He grimaces. “As if someone else is applying for that job! I’m the only person who can tolerate you, you bipolar bitch, how dare you reject me.”
“We’re over, Chanyeol. I don’t just recycle my employees.”
“It’s not recycling,” Chanyeol defends back, turning at a curve. “It’s called missing someone because you loved them after all these years.”
“It’s not real, Yeollie,” she sadly tells him.
Chanyeol extends his free hand to get hold of hers, squeezes it very tightly. “Wanna bet?”
Jiyeon sometimes gets jealous of Jieun having all the luck with getting married early and finding her one true love, a son of a millionaire as if she herself isn’t living a life of a princess already. Sometimes it’s unfair that she gets stuck with Chanyeol over here, and never even tasting the sweet cup of luck and bright lights, and the smell of money or fame, or what Paris looks like or how the sun is prickly in the summer because she’s too busy earning a living under it.
Then Jiyeon realizes she’s been looking at all the wrong things in this world, all the finite ones that can be easily replaced.
“Where to, captain?” He asks, still not letting go of her hand.
“Home, Chanyeol,” she answers a little brightly now, pressing his hand in response. “Let’s go home.”