Café Bisco Epilogue [END]
- Epilogue -
"You must live in the present,
Launch yourself on every wave,
Find your eternity in each moment."
- Henry David Thoreau
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October: a month of transitions and a month that marked the true beginning of autumn.
Trees bent and gnarled at the roots bowed down to the capricious winds of change, once green leaves turning bright orange, yellow, and red. Now that the weather had taken a turn for the decidedly cooler, the denizens of Seoul bundled up on the streets and indoors, where failing heating systems and overactive air conditioners made it difficult for one to adjust to the crisp and breezy fall season they were having this year.
Change was of the essence as much as time was for a group of people living in this vast city.
Jangrin, Jihye, and Minyoung were now three very happy permanent part-timers - “The Three Musketeers,” as Jihye aptly dubbed them - at Café Bisco, the only female employees Manager Lee had to speak of. According to Minyoung, it wasn’t anyone’s fault in particular; they were just better workers than any of the other girls that had been interviewed by their manager and, therefore, he decided to keep them around.
Even with school and a part-time job, Jihye still found time to attend dance school twice a week. Apparently, she had gotten the leading role in a musical the academy planned on performing at a national arts’ show in December. “I can’t wait to blow their socks off,” the vivacious girl couldn’t help but boast, “with my ‘Dance of The Sugarplums’!”
Minyoung was fully supportive of Jihye’s continuing endeavors in dance - but she had actually quit, much to her now returned parents’ chagrin. “I just don’t feel as passionate about it as Jihye does,” Minyoung told them. “Besides, you guys like my cakes too, right? I’ll work toward being a pastry chef or something.” Minyoung smiled, scrubbing at her red cheeks. “If anything’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right and with passion.” Everyone was sure Minyoung would find her way in life just like anyone else.
Speaking of passion, Jangrin apparently caught the eye of a local record company representative when she performed at the Seoul Arts’ Festival last month and had gotten a call from one of their agents seeking fresh young faces. As expected, Jangrin was taking vocal strengthening lessons and seemed to slowly be coming out of her shell. “I guess I’m still not too confident about my singing,” she admitted to Junsu one day after their shift was finished, “but…I really love the idea of being able to sing whenever I want to.” Tugging at strands of long curled hair. “I think in the end, that’s all that really matters.”
Junho apparently had patched up relations with his parents and was helping out at Misarang’s in their absence.
Even doing menial tasks like preparing the pizza fresh and hot for dine-in customers and stacking boxes of supplies in the back rooms, he seemed rather happy last week when Junsu came by to visit. “I’m startin’ to think of life as a second chance now,” he mused to his younger fraternal twin, “so I’m gonna treat every second like it counts. I mean…the ‘rents have been real supportive ‘n all and they’re saying s’long as I stay clean for the rest of this year, I’ll start getting paid.” Beaming. “I’m gonna buy us an apartment where we can both play as much video games as you want, okay, Junsu?”
Junsu couldn’t have been happier.
Unfailingly enthusiastic in waiting tables and offering constant service with a smile, the boy was more agreeable than ever these days. Manager Lee still hadn’t quite shaken his soft spot for the sunshine teen and frequently let his mistakes off with a “next time it’ll be different” excuse. Every time, Junsu would just laugh his high-pitched laugh and bow to him in genuine apology, running off to attack Changmin with his cleaning rag or something similarly playful.
Their “crazy dolphin” gave himself to anyone’s company when asked, often arranging group meetings for the weekends as an attempt to keep them in touch and have them bond together even more. Because he genuinely loved all of them: Jaejoong, who loved music almost as much as Junsu and agreed with him on so many points of interests; Yunho, who seemed to be naturally inclined to spoiling Junsu with brotherly affection and small treats every time he had a day off; Changmin, who never failed to make the most awkward moment hilarious with his well-timed remarks on just about everything Junsu did; and Yoochun, the most faithful and reassuring presence in Junsu’s life whenever he needed someone to keep him company.
He still hadn’t told Yoochun that he might “kindasorta” like him back, but that was alright.
He preferred to keep things the way they were.
Yoochun didn’t really need the money per se with the amount of inheritance he had stored away in his bank account, but he felt too attached to the friends he worked with to leave them.
After all, who else would give Changmin a hard time and keep an eye on clumsy Junsu? Tease Yunho about the nature of his not-quite platonic relationship with Jaejoong and find effortless companionship in the like-minded latter man? Besides, since his parents still weren’t relenting on the Im Yoona thing, he was beginning to think he’d have to cherish these remaining days he had to spend with the other four.
Friends he could count on to hear him out when he needed a sounding board (Jaejoong). Friends that he could relate to for their artistic inclinations and could attend local art house film showings with (Yunho). Friends that he could chastise and know that his well-meaning admonishment would be shot right back at him with snark and vigor (Changmin). Friends he could spend every waking hour with and never be bored with (Junsu).
Living his life the way he wanted for as long as he possibly could - that was his only selfish wish at the moment.
Maybe, with any luck, things would work themselves out.
If Jaejoong could face anything with such a buoyant attitude, then so could he.
Jaejoong had bounced back as free-spirited as ever since the month of his retrial, as though the very realization of his potential sentence being lifted gave him new wings.
He spent just as much time serving customers with an impeccable memory for returning patronage (often slipping them coupons and receiving tips that weighed heavy in his apron as a result) as he did hours on the weekend with the other four, who he “loved so much” it was impossible to imagine life without them.
Staying up all night with Yoochun starting out with their weekly psychology session and ending up chatting away about models and the fate of the universe.
Taking Junsu on a tour through the hidden enclaves of the city and ending the day in front of the hot crepes stand in the local park, falling into easy conversation with him about the H.O.T. glory days - and then visiting Changmin’s college campus to meet him after his evening classes, spending the rest of the night tutoring their magnae’s underclassmen in psychology, Changmin’s major of choice, and play-wrestling each other over Minho and Taemin’s dormitory couches. Spending the evening at Yunho’s apartment with groceries and burned discs in tow, laughing and talking for the next five hours after an always well-received supper and eventually falling asleep curled in each other’s arms on Yunho’s living room floor.
Well, last week they actually made it to bed.
-Not like that, of course. But still…
Yunho claimed he had never wanted to become a lawyer like his father. Feeling as though it wouldn’t change the past and crimes like murder - like his mother - would still never stop, he began studying law of a different kind: criminal law.
Between balancing trays at Café Bisco and devoting his Sundays to home visits and quality time with the other four, Yunho applied for and was easily accepted into Seoul University, taking night classes like Changmin three days a week. With any luck, Yunho hoped he could help more people in need as a private investigator. Like Boa.
His daily routine never failed to be unpredictable, however, with friends like Junsu and Changmin begging him to take them out to the diner to eat again and conversationalists like Yoochun sharing a cup of coffee on Sunday morning at Starbucks over a tête-à-tête on art house films and sharing the products of their creative impulses. Without fail, though - even on his days off - Jaejoong would call him at least once a day for an evening out on the town or a quiet moment or two spent at one another’s respective apartment to wind down for a night’s stay over.
He really had to admit that he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.
Maybe finding a state of nirvana in this lifetime wasn’t impossible after all.
Changmin knew it would be fairly easy to put the past behind him, but he never anticipated just how effortless the transition to normalcy would be.
His parents apparently were more than back on the financial track now (Yoochun was a generous soul, sending them the money without Changmin’s foreknowledge while he was in the hospital) and his grades were so high this semester he was certain to be given grant money this year for sure.
He was looking forward to it, but not nearly as much as he did vocal practice sessions with Junsu every Thursday. The pupil outshone his teacher easily, though; once Junsu learned the bare basics of scales, that warm and husky tenor held its own even when attempting to keep his vibrato in the highest register. Still, Changmin would anticipate whenever he and Junsu could enjoy a few hours singing their hearts out at a local park - and sometimes at the nearest noraebang whenever Junsu felt the urge to karaoke some Fly To The Sky with him.
Secretly, Changmin really wanted to take the rest of his hyung-deul.
Junsu told him Jaejoong had quite a voice and he really hoped to one day hear it.
Speaking of music, Jaejoong apparently convinced Hyunjoong to give his potential career in singing another shot.
Not expecting much, he looked into a couple of independent labels and by chance reunited with Jaejoong’s old friend Tablo, who offered Hyunjoong a place at his small-time record company, MapTheSoul. Currently, Hyunjoong is quite content with some new fellow musician friends he’s made and, in the past weeks, has been penning lyrics for the pending group’s stage debut at a small music venue downtown. “It’s something,” Hyunjoong told his flatmate with an appreciative smile, “and it’s a start. We’ll go with that and see how far SS501 gets.”
As for Seunghyun, the group had gone to see him last week to discover the young man was already seeing the world in a different light.
To pass the time in his first month in jail, Seunghyun had taken to writing freestyle poetry to relieving himself of all the negative energy he kept pent up inside. He properly apologized to Jaejoong for his reckless decision-making, not wanting forgiveness from Jaejoong but for the person he had always admired to be happy. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not leavin’ here until I’m clean of all the shit I’ve put you people through - and everyone else I’ve wronged, too.” The path to redemption would be a bumpy ride, but Seunghyun intended to find his own way in the process. “Just do your thing, sunbae, and…don’t forget about me, okay?”
“It’ll be hard to with this scar looking me in the face every time I look in the mirror,” Changmin quipped while he stood behind the rest, half-joking but almost serious.
Seunghyun’s eyes widened. “Look, I said I was sorry…!” Then, rueful, “You said your shoulder wasn’t bugging you anymore, though…right?”
“I lied,” Changmin deadpanned, gauging the anxious Seunghyun’s quite genuine reaction of concern and then shock. “-Honestly, what kind of criminal are you, getting all upset over one bullet to another guy’s shoulder?”
“I said I was sorry!” Seunghyun skulked back to his chair in the holding cell, much like a petulant child. “Jeez. Some people’ve got all the nerve…!”
Apparently, this exchange gave him enough to think about to finish a full poem.
He performed for a group of ten other cellmates and spent the following weeks priming it up.
Boa established herself on Seoul’s downtown streets recently as a flower saleswoman, taking to gardening outside Sooman’s house in the suburbs and earning herself a faithful following of bohemian flower children and curious businessmen alike. As the days passed, everyone began calling her cell phone (word got around fast, it seemed, among the staff at Café Bisco) to check in and check up on their ever-complacent itinerant prophet.
She assured them, however, that she had no intentions of leaving Seoul.
“I’m rather fond of the aura of this city,” Boa told them when asked, indulgent smile always in place. “For all of its shortcomings, it’s home to so many…that has to mean something. Besides, I’d like to be close by my charge,” they all knew she was referring to Jaejoong, of course, “since he seems to have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”
Certainly, the free rent at Sooman’s must have been too tempting to resist, too.
In exchange for cooking and cleaning for him, Boa was free to stay as long as she pleased.
Life as this group of people knew it in Seoul was something precious, something to be cherished with each second’s passing. And, perhaps, that was the best way to live.
Never forget the past.
Put all your energy into the present.
And always anticipate the faraway future.
It was the only way these men and women knew how to live their lives.
[CAFÉ BISCO I // END]