Didn't Have To
Didn’t have to
Seungho/Soyeon
Romance; PG
People change, and they can’t simply without a reason.
A/N: I honestly don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry. I recently went aboard this ship. They’re just too impossible not to ship, I guess. So pardon for this, it’s my first time writing for the couple, with inspirations from hypothermal and firequakes and also the rest of the shippers. I will forever bow down to their amazing writing. Also, a lot of thanks to aoza for the margins on this.
“Some people are meant to fall in love with each other, but not meant to be together.”
-500 Days of Summer
i.
She held on too tightly to her mother’s fingers as they drove past the silent highway to a different town. She was seven, young and bewildered all the more that they had to move back to her father’s old village. This decision wasn’t that hard to cope with, for a seven year old, that is and she didn’t have too many friends back there anyway. But she held on to her mother, curling by her side as the seatbelt flattened them together like pieces of sardines. She was growing big, her mother even commented and she wasn’t anymore their baby girl like the last time. This made her cringe everytime, though.
They both assured her that she would like the new place, quiet suburbs area, with tall fences dividing you from your neighbors. Houses of different kinds were prompted from left to right, different colors of rooftops too, and it seemed pretty quiet until she went out of their porshe shyly (her parents were both busy pulling large boxes from the rear and had instructed her to go inside the house with them but she refused for it seemed so tiring), and before she knew it, her soft bum was on the gray pavement, head swirling slightly.
She could hear her mother clicking her tongue, and her father’s strong hands stayed on her shoulders. The light from the sun gleamed as she opened her eyes, squinting and fairly seeing now the silhoutte of another foreign person, a boy with such prominent dark circles under his seemingly delicate eyes. He was staring at her, in total wonder, apologetic to her parents of course. He took off his helment and picked up his skateboard.
“I’m sorry,” he said to her and she stood up now, dusting off her skirt and running straight to their home, shutting the door behind her so loudly, her father sighed and her mother giggled. She peeked from the window, on her toes, as the boy continued four or five times having his body arched to a 90 degree bow.
She disliked how her mother seemed to pat the child with a very cheeky smile, and her father disheveling the boy’s hair, because this made her think that they wanted him for a son instead and not her for a daughter. That scared the likes of her, but of course they wouldn’t want that stranger who just had her knocked down to be part of the family. Then again, she knew her parents always lived out of her expectations and made their own stories.
So Soyeon always disliked Seungho.
ii.
She wasn’t jealous of Yang Seungho, though. That sad excuse of a boy had too many flaws and shortcomings to be worth her fussing time. He lived next door, and almost every other Sunday, her parents would invite his family over, and they would have lunch (or supper) together, sometimes the other way around too for it would be his family’s turn to have them over, and it seemed quite ordinary and fine, except they usually brought up the subject of her ‘accidental-coincidental meeting’ with Seungho. And that topic made Soyeon absolutely annoyed.
His father was an engineer, an old drinking buddy of her dad back in college, and their mothers clicked at once about embroidery and gardening. She liked neither of those things though for a girl, and she particularly threw away dolls and broke their legs, not out of sheer jealousy that she could not be that perfect, but maybe because these things scared her at night, and only Seungho was aware, out of overhearing from their mothers
“You’re afraid of dolls?” He asked her, nearly snickering as he tugged on one of her pigtails. It was her birthday already, eighth and Seungho was still behind by a few days being seven. She pouted, punching his shoulder angrily before Seungho thought it would be nice they take a dip by a pool of mud, pushing the girl as they squirmed there like two little pigs, the girl teary but still laughing, before she was on top of Seungho and she gave him a smug grin.
“I win,” she darkly said, her pink dress that her mother just bought the other day completely wrecked, and Seungho, underneath her was cowering.
Their parents let them play like this, because other than the fact that it might have appeared cute, it was inevitably, the solution to Soyeon’s isolation and blues, and Seungho’s fear of the opposite sex. That they were comfortable playing like this, teasing, running around the backyard that might have been to the two their whole world.
Nonetheless, being beaten by a girl made Seungho hate Soyeon to an extent that he could not forgive her. But he still did.
iii.
They were twelve and entering middle school, together as usual and inseparable some think, because of the qualities that they both had, it was harder to earn friends as easy as they both had in the good old days. And among others they weren’t the popular ones either.
“Homework at my place, then,” Soyeon told one of the few friends she earned. They exited the main building and into the field, where buses waited for them. “I’ll just tell me mom you can stay over for dinner, Boram.”
The bus, its stomach of an inside filled to the brim of mostly students (already throwing paper airplanes into the air and jumping around from one seat to another) had been waiting for the two of them. Soyeon noticed that the moment they stepped in, the driver plunged his keys and started for ignition. It was just the first two weeks, and her papa would be so proud about Soyeon being socially able nowadays. Hmm, that showed Seungho and his cocky parents.
“Midget, over here!” His voice was a sting of a bee, among the other croaks, and because of this, Soyeon rolled her eyes and approached him. Midget, since when did that nickname surface?
It wasn’t long before she lost Boram in the sea of craze, and then the bus just richocheted forward, so if it wasn’t for Seungho’s unpredictable reflexes, Soyeon’s butt would have also kissed the gum-spread floor. His grip on her arm was stiff and strong, and he pulled her to his side now.
She stuck her tongue out as Seungho moved to the window side. She punched his shoulder as a greeting or a thank you or even both, Seungho didn’t mind at all, and he glared back, Soyeon, unamazed, tired, bored, placing her backpack by her lap.
“Do you have chips there or something,” he stole her bag, unzipped it and searched its insides like a pro.
“Yah, you should buy your own before leaving the house or leaving school,” Soyeon retorted. “Stop asking for me to feed you, you little...you little...” Her mind was going blank at what insult to get back, and because she felt like she would be wasting her breath trying to mortify him, she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back with a frown.
Seungho poked her cheek after the momentous silence. “You look like you were harrassed. Don’t you girls have brushes for broom-like hair or make up or something?”
“Very mature,” she answered, annoyed. “For someone getting caught cutting class.”
“I wasn’t cutting class!” He swayed his hand in disregard of the idea, although it was the truth. “You’re not going to---”
“Of course I’ll tell your mom,” Soyeon snapped back, crossing her arms in victory.
He leaned back now, squinting at the little girl. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would and no bribery of yours will ever---”
“I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, plus extra treats.”
“For a month!” Soyeon considered, eyes widening.
He groaned in defiance. “A week!”
“Deal,” she beamed at him brightly, the wheels of the bus screeching now at the end of a corner. Both of them, singly overpowering the other with more blackmails, started getting off, the doors on cue opened for them as they stepped out. Soyeon, unmindful now as she talked to Seungho nonstop about how she would like some strawberry milkshake too, didn’t realize Boram was behind her, so when Seungho got to their fence first, he was quiet, nodding at the other girl.
“You two...weren’t busy for some reason, right?” she asked, Soyeon and Seungho eyeing each other in amusement.
Soyeon smiled lightly and took Boram’s hands, as the boy entered his home with a nagging mother in the kitchen. And because she was silent, the other girl’s mouth ran laps in like motor, shocked questions (not really questions, Soyeon noted), like since when were they neighbors, how did she end up being friends with that boy, did Seungho even have friends at school, things like that that never bothered a single nerve in Soyeon’s system. She didn’t feel responding to them either.
They entered her house, with only her mother in the living room watching some afternoon soap opera, and she introduced Boram with the simplicest of words before they excused themselves to her room.
“When are you going to date him? He looks so into you.”
That particular comment from her very curious friend had Soyeon stopping, literally stopped at the staircase, hand by the wooden banister, eyes on the second floor landing. She turned to Boram with very austere eyes. The following day, until the following year, Soyeon and Boram stopped talking to each other.
Soyeon disliked the idea of being paired with Seungho, because her parents always did often over dinner at the Yang’s.
iv.
High school flew in just as quickly, and perhaps it was the stupid stereotypical view about girl-boy friendship thing that had them growing further away. Maybe others could have handled it more properly, more naturally, but it actually did bother them both. They weren’t like the others though, because everyone else was expectant, so assuming, so forever attached to them in a fatal love story. When in truth they weren’t, and never had in Seungho’s perspective, a simple kind of romance flicker for each other.
They hardly spent time together at school, despite having almost every class together. Soyeon would be with her new friends, the glee club and some others, not anyone quite permanent except that Hyomin girl though, and Seungho didn’t mind at all. Now that she crossed to the popular side, you would practically know what Seungho felt. Lonesome? Not so much, he reflected one time. Anyway, he had Byunghee and Sanghyun with him, and they were a nice bunch too, skateboards, computer games, and some band music. It was all different in high school, Seungho thought and he knew this of course, expected Soyeon to be driven with the current.
The traditional dinner on Sundays didn’t fade though, and so both were in some way thankful that it didn’t. They would talk and sit beside each other, playing, teasing, the usual menu their parents would always be happy to see. But it wasn’t the full-blown ones, the total gags or late night talks, because of the total awkward high school wall. They played along, for their parents sake not to notice anything wrong with the two of them.
But they did, and so Seungho was bombarded with questions the following night, until he was forced by his parents to go over her place that very minute, that fucking 10:30 pm of a Thursday night, and he had no choice. When he told them that he would do it, his parents still wouldn’t leave the room until he did.
He sighed, putting down his pencil and out of his desk. Trigonometry had to wait then. While his parents watched, he slid his window upward, the night wind blowing his cheek. Just up front was Soyeon’s balcony, the lights off, curtains by the glass door down.
Seungho glared at his parents. If he hadn’t known it better that his father’s contructions skills along with Mr. Park’s own were used for these kind of purposes, maybe they really had planned him and Soyeon going out. The gap was minimal really, even a baby could cross. At his cockiness, he nearly slipped, but held on to the terrace and leaped. Soyeon was an early bird, indeed, quite too early.
He could see through the blinds that she turned. He felt himself gulp, out of worry, and he didn’t know why. He had done this several times in the past, so many times; but it could be because his parents were looking. So nervous he knocked on the glass pane, and he could see even in the dark how she shifted to her right, to switch the bed light on, and sluggishly she approached him.
“Hmm?” she said through closed eyes.
He really had no idea what to do now, with his parents watching him like it was romance movie. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling so exhausted all of a sudden. “They’re watching me, Injung,” he whispered to her. Now opening her eyes, she looked passed Seungho and noticed them indeed.
“What are we going to do? What do they want?” Soyeon asked softly.
“I think they want to hear me apologize or something or show that we’re still pretty good friends,” Seungho answered.
“But are we not?” she said nonchalantly, and he could hear his stomach fly for cover. Seeing his expression so pained and sorry and frightened, Soyeon began giggling, patting his shoulder for some strong encouragement.
“Ah, then we shall see each other tomorrow at school, ne? I bet I can finish more milk than you did the last time, Seungho-sshi!” she said ever so loudly, it could’ve waken the neighborhood. Seungho, frowning, continued to act along, faking a snort-laugh when he could.
“Dream on, woman,” and she chuckled brightly, realistic, patting him so happily before his parents disappeared. “I remember the time when...”
A strong sigh escaped, both of them breathing normal again. Annoyed, she poked his shoulder. “You jerk, at least text me that you code parents-are-suspicious was on. I could have prepared more!”
He laughed more heartily now, turning his back on her. “Thanks again for that, Soyeon you midget.”
“You owe me for this, Yang!” she huffed away, closing the blinds and heading for her bed.
And Seungho’s heart still pumped harder, stiff and rough, although it must be the aftershock of having his parents watch him do that. Confrontations with the petite girl maybe one of the most frigthening experiences he had to face. He still continued to reason that it would be his parents, his stressful parents, and not because of what they think, her parents think, and what everybody in school would think. Because he didn’t like that idea at all, about him growing some sort of romantic attachment.
Yet somehow after this, after hearing her laugh, Seungho didn’t want to hate Soyeon after all, if ever he had grown to hate on her.
v.
Until senior year came, and it could have been one of the saddest moments all teenagers had to get over with. Really, even Sanghyun thought it to be overrated. It had to end one way or another, and you would still see each other eventually when you stepped into college, in some parts of the world maybe, so what was everyone so afraid of? Growing up? Growing old? Growing apart? Or growing lost?
Words of wisdom for someone who used to be a baby, Seungho decided but he carried them in his heart like a good hyung. Sanghyun probably didn’t feel much of yet too much because he was one year behind.
That was during one Sunday that he realized somehow the answers to these questions.
“I’m going out with someone,” Soyeon, eyes stuck on the boy in front of her, stated over the table, everyone falling more silent. “We’re going to college together.”
“What?” her father asked again, though she smiled at him in assurance.
“He’s nice, don’t worry,” she said with a wink, Seungho mocking her at this. She tapped her chopsticks on his bowl to show her irritation, glaring.
“Who, sweetie?” Her mother wondered, although her face showed little interest.
She shrugged. “Oh... the captain of the football club. We’ll be going to the dance together this Saturday. He’s so dreamy, I swear.”
“You’ve been dating for a week. Could you please define dreamy for me?” Seungho spatted, the more infuriated than shocked he was inside.
“Not a week, you dumbass,” she retaliated. “We’re going on for six months now.”
“Wait...Seungho doesn’t know about this?” His mother cut in, and Seungho shrugged, drinking his water.
“He must be really something that he’s putting up with you,” he continued and Soyeon grinned.
“Oh like how you put up with me on normal days? Really Yang Seungho, I am not that hard to love,” She teased, their parents rejoicing at the sudden shift of mood.
He nodded, wiping his mouth. “Not that hard says the person who’s dating her first boyfriend.”
Insulted she grumbled some few curse words before adding, “At least I already have a first. Cold-hearted Seungho can’t get a girlfriend because he is too occupied with the elections, his math and maybe a bit of his drawings.”
“Oh? But I already have a girlfriend,” Seungho then revealed, all of them gasping in surprise.
“Omo, really Seungho-ah?” His mother’s interest never really faltered.
Seungho bowed at them as he left the table with unanswered questions and some more mumbles. Soyeon did not like being ignore, especially by her best friend, so she stood herself and followed him, in dire need to know more. He refused to answer any of them.
Because they were so apart, she reasoned. Soyeon stopped disliking Seungho after realizing that he was dating Im Jinah, the hot blonde cheerleader, for almost a year.
vi.
The dance was at eight, and his mother suggested that Seungho drove Soyeon there. Except he wasn’t sure if this was all right with Nana (really, the pet name started from him and it just spread like wild fire) considering that the girl was not going with him though, saying she liked to be fashionably late and pretty.
From the window, her silhoutte reflected against his, and maybe it was wrong to do so, Seungho gazed at her direction wondering how she felt last Sunday. They hadn’t seen each other, talked to each other though, but he knew her so well, he could read every pattern or change of body language. Her eyes were a total giveaway too; they always glittered when she was excited, happy, positive, while they would go dark, out of light, dull in an instant the moment something disappoints her. He reached for his tied and had it losely around his neck, planning to go for a detour visit.
He stood at her balcony door, waiting until she was ready. It didn’t take a genius to notice he was there, nor an ignorant disappointed Soyeon either, so she flipped the blinds and saw him in that dashing suit. She was in a dress too, formal actually. Her hair was tied to a bun, fringes around her hair that twirled. With Soyeon’s shoulders exposed, Seungho swallowed before asking his purpose.
“Your boyfriend going to pick you up?”
She smiled, head lowered sadly. “We...broke up.”
His mouth formed the letter o, then slowly rubbing the back of his neck out of habit, adding ‘I’m sorry’ and shyly looking away. “Then, would you like to take a ride? Although the blue mustang’s kinda rusty and the breaks are pathetic, but I think I can handle it. Of course, I don’t know about you handling it.”
“Seungho, aren’t you going to that dance?!” Her mother was, in many ways, quite a woman.
“Your driving is a disappointment,” she giggled. “Give me a minute and meet me at the front door. I can’t particularly take your window.”
He shrugged at the joke and rather pleased that she agreed. Of course, Jinah would be okay with this idea; she knew so much about Soyeon anyway, their friendship and closeness. She seemed forever so fine with it, not threatened at the idea of having a girl for a best friend.
But still. Seungho wanted Soyeon to know how special she was for it, so special that he wanted to tell her he liked her. Differently. In a good way.
vii.
So like prom night, like good students, they danced to all sorts of music, to all sorts from rock to jazz to anything the band could think of. The rhythm changed now to a slow dance, partners gathering at the center, some handpicked by the guys (but there were those girls too), and they began to move with the ballads. Mellow music filled her ears, serenity, calmness--- only thing she needed right now. Her boyfriend, former that is, didn’t come so she sat quietly on one of the benches, flipping her phone up and down, entertaining herself with the blinking light.
Then she saw Seungho with Nana in the middle. Her hair was so gorgeous: her porcelain face, her passion-filled eyes, her white dress--- calling her a goddess would be the understatement of the century. Jinah was beautiful, so much for being like her, Soyeon thought. Here she started comparisons; the range just made her qualmish and uneasy. She had the height too, which could have been why Seungho liked her so much. Could they have talked about her somewhere in between their conversations? Could they have involved her, could Seungho discuss her openly to Nana? Would that even matter?
Lazily, out of the corner of her eye, she lost them in the crowd, and she felt no importance to go looking for them. Focused on her cell phone, Soyeon wanted to go home already. But Seungho was her only ride. Her dearest papa was asleep by now so why bother, so should she go looking for Seungho then? But he could be gone now, to some motel across town, had Nana to himself finally...
“Oi, stop sulking,” his voice became the opening light, Soyeon again vibrant as earlier.
“I’m not sulking,” she got back, punching his stomach lightly. “And where’s Jinah? You shouldn’t leave her alone in this---”
“She isn’t as frail as you think so it’s all right,” Seungho stopped her, holding his hand out for her to take. “May I have this dance?”
She agreed, only because she was very bored. The music still continued to play, and as awkward as they were, they couldn’t get too close among the rest of the couples. Seungho, a little guilty, placed his hand by her waist, pulling her bit by bit closer to him in some way. She kept her gaze away, kept it far from him as much as possible.
“So deep in thought,” Seungho commented and she smiled. “What’s ticking in that brain of yours? Food, perhaps?”
Her hand fell on his shoulder, as they swayed slowly. She gulped before planning to just honestly admit it to herself.
“Weren’t we meant to be though, Seungho-sshi?” Soyeon asked, hugging him closer.
She felt his chest tighten, his stance a little bit hesitant now. “Meant to be, right. Like how they always say.”
“Like they always say it,” Soyeon said so. “You and me, we could have been the most beautiful pair in the world, like how mother would say it.”
He coughed, out of cold really not out of her words, but Soyeon could have understood the latter better. “They’re crazy, all of them really. They won’t leave us alone.”
“So if it were just you...” her head now lay on his shoulder. “If it were you alone, would you have fallen in love with me?”
Seungho didn’t like breaking hearts, but that moment, seeing Nana from her usual spot, watching his every movement in yearning and concern, he couldn’t help himself. She was his best friend, maybe she could understand.
“Some are meant to fall in love,” he said to her. “But they are never meant to be together.”
“Then maybe everyone was right,” Soyeon sadly added, tears for some reason began now. “Maybe we were supposed to fall in love.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but we didn’t have to listen to them.”
“Nana and college aren’t that far, considering you’re the student body president,” she bragged, trying to feel ever so proud for him. “You’re going to do great, Seungho-sshi.”
“I’m really sorry, Injung.”
With those words, and hearing her slightly hiccup, he knew best to drive her back home and give her a good night rest. Seungho carried her to her room behind his back, even though she didn’t ask him to do it, even though he didnt ask himself what was this all for. He tucked her, still in her dress, planting a kiss on her forehead just like that. He knew her parents would do it to her too, that lovely girl.
“Good night, midget,” Seungho said, sitting by her bed side.
“I miss you,” she said when he started getting up. “I missed you. I’m missing you. I’ll be missing you.”
He shook his head bitterly, holding her hand now and getting up. “I’ll have to get back, though.”
“Come by tomorrow, okay? And the next day too,” Soyeon began, at the brink of her tears, pleading him in some sort of way. “Seungho-sshi, okay?”
But he didn’t, and even if he loved her, even if she loved him, he didn’t come back for her. The Sunday meals of a tradition were no longer that complete, because if Seungho went, Soyeon would leave out, and if she decided to eat together with them, he would refuse to even eat. It was a rather abnormal thing, and their parents knowingly, knew they had nothing else to do but wait for a better miracle.
viii.
She held on too tightly to her mother’s fingers as they drove past the silent highway back now for summer. She graduated from law, young and still forever bewildered all the more that she would be back home again. College was exhausting no doubt; but she made through, and everything would be all right now. But still, like how she used to, she held on to her mother, curling by her side as the seatbelt flattened them together like pieces of sardines. She now big enough to drive her own car, her mother even commented and she wasn’t anymore their baby girl like the last time. This time it made her laugh.
She went out of the car first, noticing that nothing had changed since the past. The same scent of freshly cut grass and some other things like the neighborhood pranksters, or the dogs that chased off the postman. And then of course there was Yang Seungho, playing his guitar at their doorstep.
He looked up as she strutted towards him; their faces were bright as that fine day.
Seungho/Soyeon
Romance; PG
People change, and they can’t simply without a reason.
A/N: I honestly don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry. I recently went aboard this ship. They’re just too impossible not to ship, I guess. So pardon for this, it’s my first time writing for the couple, with inspirations from hypothermal and firequakes and also the rest of the shippers. I will forever bow down to their amazing writing. Also, a lot of thanks to aoza for the margins on this.
“Some people are meant to fall in love with each other, but not meant to be together.”
-500 Days of Summer
i.
She held on too tightly to her mother’s fingers as they drove past the silent highway to a different town. She was seven, young and bewildered all the more that they had to move back to her father’s old village. This decision wasn’t that hard to cope with, for a seven year old, that is and she didn’t have too many friends back there anyway. But she held on to her mother, curling by her side as the seatbelt flattened them together like pieces of sardines. She was growing big, her mother even commented and she wasn’t anymore their baby girl like the last time. This made her cringe everytime, though.
They both assured her that she would like the new place, quiet suburbs area, with tall fences dividing you from your neighbors. Houses of different kinds were prompted from left to right, different colors of rooftops too, and it seemed pretty quiet until she went out of their porshe shyly (her parents were both busy pulling large boxes from the rear and had instructed her to go inside the house with them but she refused for it seemed so tiring), and before she knew it, her soft bum was on the gray pavement, head swirling slightly.
She could hear her mother clicking her tongue, and her father’s strong hands stayed on her shoulders. The light from the sun gleamed as she opened her eyes, squinting and fairly seeing now the silhoutte of another foreign person, a boy with such prominent dark circles under his seemingly delicate eyes. He was staring at her, in total wonder, apologetic to her parents of course. He took off his helment and picked up his skateboard.
“I’m sorry,” he said to her and she stood up now, dusting off her skirt and running straight to their home, shutting the door behind her so loudly, her father sighed and her mother giggled. She peeked from the window, on her toes, as the boy continued four or five times having his body arched to a 90 degree bow.
She disliked how her mother seemed to pat the child with a very cheeky smile, and her father disheveling the boy’s hair, because this made her think that they wanted him for a son instead and not her for a daughter. That scared the likes of her, but of course they wouldn’t want that stranger who just had her knocked down to be part of the family. Then again, she knew her parents always lived out of her expectations and made their own stories.
So Soyeon always disliked Seungho.
ii.
She wasn’t jealous of Yang Seungho, though. That sad excuse of a boy had too many flaws and shortcomings to be worth her fussing time. He lived next door, and almost every other Sunday, her parents would invite his family over, and they would have lunch (or supper) together, sometimes the other way around too for it would be his family’s turn to have them over, and it seemed quite ordinary and fine, except they usually brought up the subject of her ‘accidental-coincidental meeting’ with Seungho. And that topic made Soyeon absolutely annoyed.
His father was an engineer, an old drinking buddy of her dad back in college, and their mothers clicked at once about embroidery and gardening. She liked neither of those things though for a girl, and she particularly threw away dolls and broke their legs, not out of sheer jealousy that she could not be that perfect, but maybe because these things scared her at night, and only Seungho was aware, out of overhearing from their mothers
“You’re afraid of dolls?” He asked her, nearly snickering as he tugged on one of her pigtails. It was her birthday already, eighth and Seungho was still behind by a few days being seven. She pouted, punching his shoulder angrily before Seungho thought it would be nice they take a dip by a pool of mud, pushing the girl as they squirmed there like two little pigs, the girl teary but still laughing, before she was on top of Seungho and she gave him a smug grin.
“I win,” she darkly said, her pink dress that her mother just bought the other day completely wrecked, and Seungho, underneath her was cowering.
Their parents let them play like this, because other than the fact that it might have appeared cute, it was inevitably, the solution to Soyeon’s isolation and blues, and Seungho’s fear of the opposite sex. That they were comfortable playing like this, teasing, running around the backyard that might have been to the two their whole world.
Nonetheless, being beaten by a girl made Seungho hate Soyeon to an extent that he could not forgive her. But he still did.
iii.
They were twelve and entering middle school, together as usual and inseparable some think, because of the qualities that they both had, it was harder to earn friends as easy as they both had in the good old days. And among others they weren’t the popular ones either.
“Homework at my place, then,” Soyeon told one of the few friends she earned. They exited the main building and into the field, where buses waited for them. “I’ll just tell me mom you can stay over for dinner, Boram.”
The bus, its stomach of an inside filled to the brim of mostly students (already throwing paper airplanes into the air and jumping around from one seat to another) had been waiting for the two of them. Soyeon noticed that the moment they stepped in, the driver plunged his keys and started for ignition. It was just the first two weeks, and her papa would be so proud about Soyeon being socially able nowadays. Hmm, that showed Seungho and his cocky parents.
“Midget, over here!” His voice was a sting of a bee, among the other croaks, and because of this, Soyeon rolled her eyes and approached him. Midget, since when did that nickname surface?
It wasn’t long before she lost Boram in the sea of craze, and then the bus just richocheted forward, so if it wasn’t for Seungho’s unpredictable reflexes, Soyeon’s butt would have also kissed the gum-spread floor. His grip on her arm was stiff and strong, and he pulled her to his side now.
She stuck her tongue out as Seungho moved to the window side. She punched his shoulder as a greeting or a thank you or even both, Seungho didn’t mind at all, and he glared back, Soyeon, unamazed, tired, bored, placing her backpack by her lap.
“Do you have chips there or something,” he stole her bag, unzipped it and searched its insides like a pro.
“Yah, you should buy your own before leaving the house or leaving school,” Soyeon retorted. “Stop asking for me to feed you, you little...you little...” Her mind was going blank at what insult to get back, and because she felt like she would be wasting her breath trying to mortify him, she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back with a frown.
Seungho poked her cheek after the momentous silence. “You look like you were harrassed. Don’t you girls have brushes for broom-like hair or make up or something?”
“Very mature,” she answered, annoyed. “For someone getting caught cutting class.”
“I wasn’t cutting class!” He swayed his hand in disregard of the idea, although it was the truth. “You’re not going to---”
“Of course I’ll tell your mom,” Soyeon snapped back, crossing her arms in victory.
He leaned back now, squinting at the little girl. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would and no bribery of yours will ever---”
“I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, plus extra treats.”
“For a month!” Soyeon considered, eyes widening.
He groaned in defiance. “A week!”
“Deal,” she beamed at him brightly, the wheels of the bus screeching now at the end of a corner. Both of them, singly overpowering the other with more blackmails, started getting off, the doors on cue opened for them as they stepped out. Soyeon, unmindful now as she talked to Seungho nonstop about how she would like some strawberry milkshake too, didn’t realize Boram was behind her, so when Seungho got to their fence first, he was quiet, nodding at the other girl.
“You two...weren’t busy for some reason, right?” she asked, Soyeon and Seungho eyeing each other in amusement.
Soyeon smiled lightly and took Boram’s hands, as the boy entered his home with a nagging mother in the kitchen. And because she was silent, the other girl’s mouth ran laps in like motor, shocked questions (not really questions, Soyeon noted), like since when were they neighbors, how did she end up being friends with that boy, did Seungho even have friends at school, things like that that never bothered a single nerve in Soyeon’s system. She didn’t feel responding to them either.
They entered her house, with only her mother in the living room watching some afternoon soap opera, and she introduced Boram with the simplicest of words before they excused themselves to her room.
“When are you going to date him? He looks so into you.”
That particular comment from her very curious friend had Soyeon stopping, literally stopped at the staircase, hand by the wooden banister, eyes on the second floor landing. She turned to Boram with very austere eyes. The following day, until the following year, Soyeon and Boram stopped talking to each other.
Soyeon disliked the idea of being paired with Seungho, because her parents always did often over dinner at the Yang’s.
iv.
High school flew in just as quickly, and perhaps it was the stupid stereotypical view about girl-boy friendship thing that had them growing further away. Maybe others could have handled it more properly, more naturally, but it actually did bother them both. They weren’t like the others though, because everyone else was expectant, so assuming, so forever attached to them in a fatal love story. When in truth they weren’t, and never had in Seungho’s perspective, a simple kind of romance flicker for each other.
They hardly spent time together at school, despite having almost every class together. Soyeon would be with her new friends, the glee club and some others, not anyone quite permanent except that Hyomin girl though, and Seungho didn’t mind at all. Now that she crossed to the popular side, you would practically know what Seungho felt. Lonesome? Not so much, he reflected one time. Anyway, he had Byunghee and Sanghyun with him, and they were a nice bunch too, skateboards, computer games, and some band music. It was all different in high school, Seungho thought and he knew this of course, expected Soyeon to be driven with the current.
The traditional dinner on Sundays didn’t fade though, and so both were in some way thankful that it didn’t. They would talk and sit beside each other, playing, teasing, the usual menu their parents would always be happy to see. But it wasn’t the full-blown ones, the total gags or late night talks, because of the total awkward high school wall. They played along, for their parents sake not to notice anything wrong with the two of them.
But they did, and so Seungho was bombarded with questions the following night, until he was forced by his parents to go over her place that very minute, that fucking 10:30 pm of a Thursday night, and he had no choice. When he told them that he would do it, his parents still wouldn’t leave the room until he did.
He sighed, putting down his pencil and out of his desk. Trigonometry had to wait then. While his parents watched, he slid his window upward, the night wind blowing his cheek. Just up front was Soyeon’s balcony, the lights off, curtains by the glass door down.
Seungho glared at his parents. If he hadn’t known it better that his father’s contructions skills along with Mr. Park’s own were used for these kind of purposes, maybe they really had planned him and Soyeon going out. The gap was minimal really, even a baby could cross. At his cockiness, he nearly slipped, but held on to the terrace and leaped. Soyeon was an early bird, indeed, quite too early.
He could see through the blinds that she turned. He felt himself gulp, out of worry, and he didn’t know why. He had done this several times in the past, so many times; but it could be because his parents were looking. So nervous he knocked on the glass pane, and he could see even in the dark how she shifted to her right, to switch the bed light on, and sluggishly she approached him.
“Hmm?” she said through closed eyes.
He really had no idea what to do now, with his parents watching him like it was romance movie. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling so exhausted all of a sudden. “They’re watching me, Injung,” he whispered to her. Now opening her eyes, she looked passed Seungho and noticed them indeed.
“What are we going to do? What do they want?” Soyeon asked softly.
“I think they want to hear me apologize or something or show that we’re still pretty good friends,” Seungho answered.
“But are we not?” she said nonchalantly, and he could hear his stomach fly for cover. Seeing his expression so pained and sorry and frightened, Soyeon began giggling, patting his shoulder for some strong encouragement.
“Ah, then we shall see each other tomorrow at school, ne? I bet I can finish more milk than you did the last time, Seungho-sshi!” she said ever so loudly, it could’ve waken the neighborhood. Seungho, frowning, continued to act along, faking a snort-laugh when he could.
“Dream on, woman,” and she chuckled brightly, realistic, patting him so happily before his parents disappeared. “I remember the time when...”
A strong sigh escaped, both of them breathing normal again. Annoyed, she poked his shoulder. “You jerk, at least text me that you code parents-are-suspicious was on. I could have prepared more!”
He laughed more heartily now, turning his back on her. “Thanks again for that, Soyeon you midget.”
“You owe me for this, Yang!” she huffed away, closing the blinds and heading for her bed.
And Seungho’s heart still pumped harder, stiff and rough, although it must be the aftershock of having his parents watch him do that. Confrontations with the petite girl maybe one of the most frigthening experiences he had to face. He still continued to reason that it would be his parents, his stressful parents, and not because of what they think, her parents think, and what everybody in school would think. Because he didn’t like that idea at all, about him growing some sort of romantic attachment.
Yet somehow after this, after hearing her laugh, Seungho didn’t want to hate Soyeon after all, if ever he had grown to hate on her.
v.
Until senior year came, and it could have been one of the saddest moments all teenagers had to get over with. Really, even Sanghyun thought it to be overrated. It had to end one way or another, and you would still see each other eventually when you stepped into college, in some parts of the world maybe, so what was everyone so afraid of? Growing up? Growing old? Growing apart? Or growing lost?
Words of wisdom for someone who used to be a baby, Seungho decided but he carried them in his heart like a good hyung. Sanghyun probably didn’t feel much of yet too much because he was one year behind.
That was during one Sunday that he realized somehow the answers to these questions.
“I’m going out with someone,” Soyeon, eyes stuck on the boy in front of her, stated over the table, everyone falling more silent. “We’re going to college together.”
“What?” her father asked again, though she smiled at him in assurance.
“He’s nice, don’t worry,” she said with a wink, Seungho mocking her at this. She tapped her chopsticks on his bowl to show her irritation, glaring.
“Who, sweetie?” Her mother wondered, although her face showed little interest.
She shrugged. “Oh... the captain of the football club. We’ll be going to the dance together this Saturday. He’s so dreamy, I swear.”
“You’ve been dating for a week. Could you please define dreamy for me?” Seungho spatted, the more infuriated than shocked he was inside.
“Not a week, you dumbass,” she retaliated. “We’re going on for six months now.”
“Wait...Seungho doesn’t know about this?” His mother cut in, and Seungho shrugged, drinking his water.
“He must be really something that he’s putting up with you,” he continued and Soyeon grinned.
“Oh like how you put up with me on normal days? Really Yang Seungho, I am not that hard to love,” She teased, their parents rejoicing at the sudden shift of mood.
He nodded, wiping his mouth. “Not that hard says the person who’s dating her first boyfriend.”
Insulted she grumbled some few curse words before adding, “At least I already have a first. Cold-hearted Seungho can’t get a girlfriend because he is too occupied with the elections, his math and maybe a bit of his drawings.”
“Oh? But I already have a girlfriend,” Seungho then revealed, all of them gasping in surprise.
“Omo, really Seungho-ah?” His mother’s interest never really faltered.
Seungho bowed at them as he left the table with unanswered questions and some more mumbles. Soyeon did not like being ignore, especially by her best friend, so she stood herself and followed him, in dire need to know more. He refused to answer any of them.
Because they were so apart, she reasoned. Soyeon stopped disliking Seungho after realizing that he was dating Im Jinah, the hot blonde cheerleader, for almost a year.
vi.
The dance was at eight, and his mother suggested that Seungho drove Soyeon there. Except he wasn’t sure if this was all right with Nana (really, the pet name started from him and it just spread like wild fire) considering that the girl was not going with him though, saying she liked to be fashionably late and pretty.
From the window, her silhoutte reflected against his, and maybe it was wrong to do so, Seungho gazed at her direction wondering how she felt last Sunday. They hadn’t seen each other, talked to each other though, but he knew her so well, he could read every pattern or change of body language. Her eyes were a total giveaway too; they always glittered when she was excited, happy, positive, while they would go dark, out of light, dull in an instant the moment something disappoints her. He reached for his tied and had it losely around his neck, planning to go for a detour visit.
He stood at her balcony door, waiting until she was ready. It didn’t take a genius to notice he was there, nor an ignorant disappointed Soyeon either, so she flipped the blinds and saw him in that dashing suit. She was in a dress too, formal actually. Her hair was tied to a bun, fringes around her hair that twirled. With Soyeon’s shoulders exposed, Seungho swallowed before asking his purpose.
“Your boyfriend going to pick you up?”
She smiled, head lowered sadly. “We...broke up.”
His mouth formed the letter o, then slowly rubbing the back of his neck out of habit, adding ‘I’m sorry’ and shyly looking away. “Then, would you like to take a ride? Although the blue mustang’s kinda rusty and the breaks are pathetic, but I think I can handle it. Of course, I don’t know about you handling it.”
“Seungho, aren’t you going to that dance?!” Her mother was, in many ways, quite a woman.
“Your driving is a disappointment,” she giggled. “Give me a minute and meet me at the front door. I can’t particularly take your window.”
He shrugged at the joke and rather pleased that she agreed. Of course, Jinah would be okay with this idea; she knew so much about Soyeon anyway, their friendship and closeness. She seemed forever so fine with it, not threatened at the idea of having a girl for a best friend.
But still. Seungho wanted Soyeon to know how special she was for it, so special that he wanted to tell her he liked her. Differently. In a good way.
vii.
So like prom night, like good students, they danced to all sorts of music, to all sorts from rock to jazz to anything the band could think of. The rhythm changed now to a slow dance, partners gathering at the center, some handpicked by the guys (but there were those girls too), and they began to move with the ballads. Mellow music filled her ears, serenity, calmness--- only thing she needed right now. Her boyfriend, former that is, didn’t come so she sat quietly on one of the benches, flipping her phone up and down, entertaining herself with the blinking light.
Then she saw Seungho with Nana in the middle. Her hair was so gorgeous: her porcelain face, her passion-filled eyes, her white dress--- calling her a goddess would be the understatement of the century. Jinah was beautiful, so much for being like her, Soyeon thought. Here she started comparisons; the range just made her qualmish and uneasy. She had the height too, which could have been why Seungho liked her so much. Could they have talked about her somewhere in between their conversations? Could they have involved her, could Seungho discuss her openly to Nana? Would that even matter?
Lazily, out of the corner of her eye, she lost them in the crowd, and she felt no importance to go looking for them. Focused on her cell phone, Soyeon wanted to go home already. But Seungho was her only ride. Her dearest papa was asleep by now so why bother, so should she go looking for Seungho then? But he could be gone now, to some motel across town, had Nana to himself finally...
“Oi, stop sulking,” his voice became the opening light, Soyeon again vibrant as earlier.
“I’m not sulking,” she got back, punching his stomach lightly. “And where’s Jinah? You shouldn’t leave her alone in this---”
“She isn’t as frail as you think so it’s all right,” Seungho stopped her, holding his hand out for her to take. “May I have this dance?”
She agreed, only because she was very bored. The music still continued to play, and as awkward as they were, they couldn’t get too close among the rest of the couples. Seungho, a little guilty, placed his hand by her waist, pulling her bit by bit closer to him in some way. She kept her gaze away, kept it far from him as much as possible.
“So deep in thought,” Seungho commented and she smiled. “What’s ticking in that brain of yours? Food, perhaps?”
Her hand fell on his shoulder, as they swayed slowly. She gulped before planning to just honestly admit it to herself.
“Weren’t we meant to be though, Seungho-sshi?” Soyeon asked, hugging him closer.
She felt his chest tighten, his stance a little bit hesitant now. “Meant to be, right. Like how they always say.”
“Like they always say it,” Soyeon said so. “You and me, we could have been the most beautiful pair in the world, like how mother would say it.”
He coughed, out of cold really not out of her words, but Soyeon could have understood the latter better. “They’re crazy, all of them really. They won’t leave us alone.”
“So if it were just you...” her head now lay on his shoulder. “If it were you alone, would you have fallen in love with me?”
Seungho didn’t like breaking hearts, but that moment, seeing Nana from her usual spot, watching his every movement in yearning and concern, he couldn’t help himself. She was his best friend, maybe she could understand.
“Some are meant to fall in love,” he said to her. “But they are never meant to be together.”
“Then maybe everyone was right,” Soyeon sadly added, tears for some reason began now. “Maybe we were supposed to fall in love.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but we didn’t have to listen to them.”
“Nana and college aren’t that far, considering you’re the student body president,” she bragged, trying to feel ever so proud for him. “You’re going to do great, Seungho-sshi.”
“I’m really sorry, Injung.”
With those words, and hearing her slightly hiccup, he knew best to drive her back home and give her a good night rest. Seungho carried her to her room behind his back, even though she didn’t ask him to do it, even though he didnt ask himself what was this all for. He tucked her, still in her dress, planting a kiss on her forehead just like that. He knew her parents would do it to her too, that lovely girl.
“Good night, midget,” Seungho said, sitting by her bed side.
“I miss you,” she said when he started getting up. “I missed you. I’m missing you. I’ll be missing you.”
He shook his head bitterly, holding her hand now and getting up. “I’ll have to get back, though.”
“Come by tomorrow, okay? And the next day too,” Soyeon began, at the brink of her tears, pleading him in some sort of way. “Seungho-sshi, okay?”
But he didn’t, and even if he loved her, even if she loved him, he didn’t come back for her. The Sunday meals of a tradition were no longer that complete, because if Seungho went, Soyeon would leave out, and if she decided to eat together with them, he would refuse to even eat. It was a rather abnormal thing, and their parents knowingly, knew they had nothing else to do but wait for a better miracle.
viii.
She held on too tightly to her mother’s fingers as they drove past the silent highway back now for summer. She graduated from law, young and still forever bewildered all the more that she would be back home again. College was exhausting no doubt; but she made through, and everything would be all right now. But still, like how she used to, she held on to her mother, curling by her side as the seatbelt flattened them together like pieces of sardines. She now big enough to drive her own car, her mother even commented and she wasn’t anymore their baby girl like the last time. This time it made her laugh.
She went out of the car first, noticing that nothing had changed since the past. The same scent of freshly cut grass and some other things like the neighborhood pranksters, or the dogs that chased off the postman. And then of course there was Yang Seungho, playing his guitar at their doorstep.
He looked up as she strutted towards him; their faces were bright as that fine day.