Frail wings- chapter 2
Frail wings;
The further I fly, the farther away I am from you.
frail wings : chapter 01
:::
Chapter 02
“Good morning celebrity kid.” Kangin hisses at my face. Crap. I should find another way to class at this rate. Shindong is enjoying this too much, his laughter echoes too loud it annoys the hell out of me.
Donghae, the nicer one, raises his eyebrows, like he has no other option but to follow his friends, or monkeys, whatever, I don't care.
“You brat” says Kangin.
Picking up a fight is not something that I can manage but this is too much. I just want to go to school. These seniors too, have classes to attend in less than fifteen minutes.
“You’re the brat.” I reply and what a chaos that simple line caused, I’m regretting it now. Kangin takes out something familiar from his pocket. My knife. “ Did you forget this?”
“Come on. People can see us here.” Shindong pulls me to a direction, somewhere beside a dumping bin, away from anyone’s sight.
I’m screwed.
I cannot do anything reckless. Damn, I hate myself.
“This time, I’m pretty sure that you’re going to cry.” Sensing my lack of rebellion, Kangin provokes.
“You ought to toughen up.” Says Donghae who is a size, no two sizes smaller than me.
This is no good.
“Oi.”
It was him. The Porcelain Guy.
“ You forgot this.” He hands out an object. My handkerchief. I waste no time in contemplating. I snatch the thing and stay right there beside him.
The safe side.
“ Bastard.” Shindong spats.
That Porcelain Guy scorns, inching towards those rascals. “Bastard who? Your dad?”
Shindong’s face went red at that but Donghae is quicker, pulling his buddy back.
“You’re still alive?” Kangin sways my knife in the air.
“Should we buy some soju to celebrate?” The Porcelain Guy barks. He knows these guys. Maybe, they’re his classmates or something.
“Do you really want to die?” Donghae drags the time.
“ Kangin here won’t let me die, don’t you Kangin?”
The Porcelain Guy laughs dryly. Kangin’s face glooms that instant. Just what is going on here?
“ Leave, guys. Now.” Kangin’s order gets the three out of my sight fast.
The Porcelain Guy takes out a cigarette, lighting one end. He walks away, not bothering to say Hi.
“Hey.”
He’s ignoring me.
“Were you - were you waiting for me?”
He stops. No response.
“Thanks, for today.”
No answer.
“ Hey. Your name?” I should at least know that.
Has he gone mute? Why didn’t he say something?
“How’s the injury?”
A dead silence. End of conversation, if there’s any.
He turns around.
“The name is Jaejoong.”
:::
Lunch break is over and I’m already in front of Jaewook’s studio. Mine is still locked; even I did report it to the art department, twice.
The third floor is too quiet. Not many people are here for sculpture studying, I should know. Everyone is going for the world of modern paintings, nude pictures and whatnots.
For me, sculptures are the greatest.
I don’t know when I fell asleep sitting by the door but I did.
“Did you wait long?” Jaewook is already squatting by my side. “Come on, in.”
I feel stupid. My sleeping face must’ve looked too awful; Jaewook is smiling so wide, it must’ve hurt his face to do just that.
He starts to work while I am busy admiring him work.
He talks about how he was once a model. He decided to quit just a year or two ago. That’s a waste. The world had not yet seen enough of his beauty.
I didn’t ask why he quit. He might want to keep them to himself.
I talk about my how one of my English’s lecturer keeps calling me by a wrong name - Uknow? ; about how salty the kimchi jiggae that I had for lunch and practically everything unrelated to his life
“You talk a lot.” He laughs, beautiful tones rolling out his thin lips. “ … once you’re used to someone.”
I like his laughter so much; I can talk all day if he wants me to.
“Are you a Jung?”
I nod.
“So you’re that kid that everyone talks about.”
“Eh?”
He offers another smile. “The same Midas touch, everything turns to gold by the strokes of your hands.” Knowingly, he comments. “You’ll inherit his talent”
I wish I could.
“My father and I, we’re not biologically related.”
The connection I have with my father is something that I don’t talk much; in fact, I never talk about it. I find myself searching for what to say next. Somehow, Jaewook sees my desperation.
“Come over.” He speaks.
I leave my seat.
“Do you want to try?”
I thought that he’d never ask.
:::
The pottery wheel spins and spins, leaving me in a daze, trying to keep the clay in shape. Jaewook is sitting right behind me, monitoring the activity.
“Feels great, isn’t it?”
His hands are on mine, directing the ways.
His chin is on my back, comforting. His breath is warm and I can’t keep my cool.
Sitting in his lap like this, I feel odd. I lean forward, making him realize that I’m not okay with him breathing down my neck like that. My temperature is rising. My lower body constricts; an agonizing pain.
He insists on the contact, following my moves, resting his face to my neck.
Once upon a time, Icarus provoked King Minos. Icarus and his father, Daedalus were locked in a tower by the King.
His fingers get wild, rubbing mine in circles, ruining the perfect sync, destroying the artwork that we’re working on.
He stops the wheel. The deformed piece of work is ugly.
Daedalus, a sculptor, Athenian’s best, fabricated a huge pair of wings, securing feathers with wax for him and his son.
“Are you okay? Let’s do this again.”
I know what he wants. I just, I just can’t do this. I like this guy. I seriously do but...
Icarus put on the wing and set off into the sky.
A flick of his tongue hits the back of my ear. I hear myself gasping for air.
However, Icarus ignored his father’s advice.
“You like this?”
Yes is a sinful answer.
I have sinned by telling the truth.
He soared into the sky.
I’m enjoying this a little too much.
His fingers trail my forearm and elbow before they return to where they were. His touch is gentle, dots of pleasure hitting my dermis.
Soon the heat of the Sun melted the wax.
I am already sweating. Is this studio always this hot?
Icarus lost his wings.
He jerks his hips forward, I feel his hardening flesh.
He plunged into the sea.
He reaches for my lips, grazing onto whatever possible from his angle.
I close my eyes, taking each sensation in. He tastes bittersweet, like the coffee that he always drinks.
… and drowned.
Then it stops.
I open my eyes, grasping the situation. Jaewook had stand up, parting his body from mine.
His voice is shaky. “Jaejoong”
A distance away, a familiar face stares.
These two know each other?
Are they friends?
The tension in the air tells me that they’re not.
Perhaps, something deeper than that.
:::
“Sorry for interrupting.”
Ignoring Jaewook’s stupefied face and mine; Jaejoong nears the working table, grabbing the wing sculpture that I adore most.
“Wait.. wa-it.” My voice got stuck, panic. “Just what do you intend to do with that sculpture?”
He looks mad. He is mad. “It’s none of your business.”
Jaewook is still not talking. Why?
Jaejoong brings the sculpture high in the air. Wait, is he planning to smash it?
“ No,don’t. ”
I, Jung Yunho, is a complete dumb when it comes to impulses. I grab him by the waist. Stop. Don’t. Not that wing.
He can smash anything else he wants from the table but no; not that wing.
From the corner of my eyes, I see Jaewook heads for his resting area, behind the layer of a see-through curtain.
I can’t ignore him.
I let Jaejoong go, only to tail Jaewook.
“ Oi.” With gritted teeth, Jaejoong calls out for my attention.
I need to choose.
“If you like it, you can have it.” Jaejoong then spats, throwing the figure to me. Lucky the figure landed safe on my hands.
What did he mean by that? This wing is Jaewook’s. Right?
“Wait, just a sec..” I want to let him have this figurine back.
Haven’t I learned it before?
Running with something so fragile in hands is stupid.
My feet skid and I find myself on the floor.
A disaster, the wing is broken.
:::
I am so useless I can try and kill myself. I have to beg. I did ruin something special.
“ I will fix the wing.” He keeps on walking, making me feel like I’m talking to myself. “Please.”
“ It’s nothing.” He drops. Why it is always no big deal and nothing with him? Can’t he see that I’m truly sorry for what I did?
“ I have offered it to you. You’re free to do anything with it.” His line stabs me deep. If he’s that mad at me, he could’ve screamed it all out. Show it. Do anything.
Stop. Just stop walking, will you? I run a bit, blocking his way with my body.
“ No, I will fix it.” I sound like I’m about to cry.
He looks like he’s about to cry. What was wrong? He said it was nothing and now, he has sadness in his eyes?
An arrogant man will never shed a single tear, wouldn’t he?
His black irises are questioning me.
“If that’s the case, go out with me. This Sunday.” My lips are tightly sealed. What the hell?
“At the riverbank, 1 pm.”
Wait, I did not say yes to anything.
“Turn up without fail.”
With that, he left.
:::
When I return to the studio, Jaewook is still picking up the remaining of what used to be a delicate figure, my favorite figure.
His eyes meet mine. “Why?”
“Um, nothing.” I try not to be obvious, grabbing the broken bits and piling them up on one palm.
“You seem to be concerned of Jaejoong.”
“ Really? It’s nothing.” My answer is half-sincere, it shows. “You seem to be concerned of him too.”
That earns a laugh from Jaewook. “Concerned? That’s just how he is...attention seeker.” Jaewook breathes, returning to the working table.
“Yunho.” The way my name rolls out from Jaewook’s tongue, it should be illegal.
“Yes?”
“Are you free this Sunday?”
“ Um, I..”
“ A date with me should be interesting than studying, right?”
The invitation is something I never thought of having. I do it out of reflex, smiling so wide, my jaws ache. He chuckles at my silly face. “Shopping? What about that?”
This is too good to be true.
“Are you dating anyone else?”
I shook my head fast. I am not dating anyone. I couldn’t be dating anyone else.
“No, not at all. It’s okay.”
“See you then.”
Jaewook has the ability to melt anyone with his smile.
Today, he melts me.
The further I fly, the farther away I am from you.
frail wings : chapter 01
:::
Chapter 02
“Good morning celebrity kid.” Kangin hisses at my face. Crap. I should find another way to class at this rate. Shindong is enjoying this too much, his laughter echoes too loud it annoys the hell out of me.
Donghae, the nicer one, raises his eyebrows, like he has no other option but to follow his friends, or monkeys, whatever, I don't care.
“You brat” says Kangin.
Picking up a fight is not something that I can manage but this is too much. I just want to go to school. These seniors too, have classes to attend in less than fifteen minutes.
“You’re the brat.” I reply and what a chaos that simple line caused, I’m regretting it now. Kangin takes out something familiar from his pocket. My knife. “ Did you forget this?”
“Come on. People can see us here.” Shindong pulls me to a direction, somewhere beside a dumping bin, away from anyone’s sight.
I’m screwed.
I cannot do anything reckless. Damn, I hate myself.
“This time, I’m pretty sure that you’re going to cry.” Sensing my lack of rebellion, Kangin provokes.
“You ought to toughen up.” Says Donghae who is a size, no two sizes smaller than me.
This is no good.
“Oi.”
It was him. The Porcelain Guy.
“ You forgot this.” He hands out an object. My handkerchief. I waste no time in contemplating. I snatch the thing and stay right there beside him.
The safe side.
“ Bastard.” Shindong spats.
That Porcelain Guy scorns, inching towards those rascals. “Bastard who? Your dad?”
Shindong’s face went red at that but Donghae is quicker, pulling his buddy back.
“You’re still alive?” Kangin sways my knife in the air.
“Should we buy some soju to celebrate?” The Porcelain Guy barks. He knows these guys. Maybe, they’re his classmates or something.
“Do you really want to die?” Donghae drags the time.
“ Kangin here won’t let me die, don’t you Kangin?”
The Porcelain Guy laughs dryly. Kangin’s face glooms that instant. Just what is going on here?
“ Leave, guys. Now.” Kangin’s order gets the three out of my sight fast.
The Porcelain Guy takes out a cigarette, lighting one end. He walks away, not bothering to say Hi.
“Hey.”
He’s ignoring me.
“Were you - were you waiting for me?”
He stops. No response.
“Thanks, for today.”
No answer.
“ Hey. Your name?” I should at least know that.
Has he gone mute? Why didn’t he say something?
“How’s the injury?”
A dead silence. End of conversation, if there’s any.
He turns around.
“The name is Jaejoong.”
:::
Lunch break is over and I’m already in front of Jaewook’s studio. Mine is still locked; even I did report it to the art department, twice.
The third floor is too quiet. Not many people are here for sculpture studying, I should know. Everyone is going for the world of modern paintings, nude pictures and whatnots.
For me, sculptures are the greatest.
I don’t know when I fell asleep sitting by the door but I did.
“Did you wait long?” Jaewook is already squatting by my side. “Come on, in.”
I feel stupid. My sleeping face must’ve looked too awful; Jaewook is smiling so wide, it must’ve hurt his face to do just that.
He starts to work while I am busy admiring him work.
He talks about how he was once a model. He decided to quit just a year or two ago. That’s a waste. The world had not yet seen enough of his beauty.
I didn’t ask why he quit. He might want to keep them to himself.
I talk about my how one of my English’s lecturer keeps calling me by a wrong name - Uknow? ; about how salty the kimchi jiggae that I had for lunch and practically everything unrelated to his life
“You talk a lot.” He laughs, beautiful tones rolling out his thin lips. “ … once you’re used to someone.”
I like his laughter so much; I can talk all day if he wants me to.
“Are you a Jung?”
I nod.
“So you’re that kid that everyone talks about.”
“Eh?”
He offers another smile. “The same Midas touch, everything turns to gold by the strokes of your hands.” Knowingly, he comments. “You’ll inherit his talent”
I wish I could.
“My father and I, we’re not biologically related.”
The connection I have with my father is something that I don’t talk much; in fact, I never talk about it. I find myself searching for what to say next. Somehow, Jaewook sees my desperation.
“Come over.” He speaks.
I leave my seat.
“Do you want to try?”
I thought that he’d never ask.
:::
The pottery wheel spins and spins, leaving me in a daze, trying to keep the clay in shape. Jaewook is sitting right behind me, monitoring the activity.
“Feels great, isn’t it?”
His hands are on mine, directing the ways.
His chin is on my back, comforting. His breath is warm and I can’t keep my cool.
Sitting in his lap like this, I feel odd. I lean forward, making him realize that I’m not okay with him breathing down my neck like that. My temperature is rising. My lower body constricts; an agonizing pain.
He insists on the contact, following my moves, resting his face to my neck.
Once upon a time, Icarus provoked King Minos. Icarus and his father, Daedalus were locked in a tower by the King.
His fingers get wild, rubbing mine in circles, ruining the perfect sync, destroying the artwork that we’re working on.
He stops the wheel. The deformed piece of work is ugly.
Daedalus, a sculptor, Athenian’s best, fabricated a huge pair of wings, securing feathers with wax for him and his son.
“Are you okay? Let’s do this again.”
I know what he wants. I just, I just can’t do this. I like this guy. I seriously do but...
Icarus put on the wing and set off into the sky.
A flick of his tongue hits the back of my ear. I hear myself gasping for air.
However, Icarus ignored his father’s advice.
“You like this?”
Yes is a sinful answer.
I have sinned by telling the truth.
He soared into the sky.
I’m enjoying this a little too much.
His fingers trail my forearm and elbow before they return to where they were. His touch is gentle, dots of pleasure hitting my dermis.
Soon the heat of the Sun melted the wax.
I am already sweating. Is this studio always this hot?
Icarus lost his wings.
He jerks his hips forward, I feel his hardening flesh.
He plunged into the sea.
He reaches for my lips, grazing onto whatever possible from his angle.
I close my eyes, taking each sensation in. He tastes bittersweet, like the coffee that he always drinks.
… and drowned.
Then it stops.
I open my eyes, grasping the situation. Jaewook had stand up, parting his body from mine.
His voice is shaky. “Jaejoong”
A distance away, a familiar face stares.
These two know each other?
Are they friends?
The tension in the air tells me that they’re not.
Perhaps, something deeper than that.
:::
“Sorry for interrupting.”
Ignoring Jaewook’s stupefied face and mine; Jaejoong nears the working table, grabbing the wing sculpture that I adore most.
“Wait.. wa-it.” My voice got stuck, panic. “Just what do you intend to do with that sculpture?”
He looks mad. He is mad. “It’s none of your business.”
Jaewook is still not talking. Why?
Jaejoong brings the sculpture high in the air. Wait, is he planning to smash it?
“ No,don’t. ”
I, Jung Yunho, is a complete dumb when it comes to impulses. I grab him by the waist. Stop. Don’t. Not that wing.
He can smash anything else he wants from the table but no; not that wing.
From the corner of my eyes, I see Jaewook heads for his resting area, behind the layer of a see-through curtain.
I can’t ignore him.
I let Jaejoong go, only to tail Jaewook.
“ Oi.” With gritted teeth, Jaejoong calls out for my attention.
I need to choose.
“If you like it, you can have it.” Jaejoong then spats, throwing the figure to me. Lucky the figure landed safe on my hands.
What did he mean by that? This wing is Jaewook’s. Right?
“Wait, just a sec..” I want to let him have this figurine back.
Haven’t I learned it before?
Running with something so fragile in hands is stupid.
My feet skid and I find myself on the floor.
A disaster, the wing is broken.
:::
I am so useless I can try and kill myself. I have to beg. I did ruin something special.
“ I will fix the wing.” He keeps on walking, making me feel like I’m talking to myself. “Please.”
“ It’s nothing.” He drops. Why it is always no big deal and nothing with him? Can’t he see that I’m truly sorry for what I did?
“ I have offered it to you. You’re free to do anything with it.” His line stabs me deep. If he’s that mad at me, he could’ve screamed it all out. Show it. Do anything.
Stop. Just stop walking, will you? I run a bit, blocking his way with my body.
“ No, I will fix it.” I sound like I’m about to cry.
He looks like he’s about to cry. What was wrong? He said it was nothing and now, he has sadness in his eyes?
An arrogant man will never shed a single tear, wouldn’t he?
His black irises are questioning me.
“If that’s the case, go out with me. This Sunday.” My lips are tightly sealed. What the hell?
“At the riverbank, 1 pm.”
Wait, I did not say yes to anything.
“Turn up without fail.”
With that, he left.
:::
When I return to the studio, Jaewook is still picking up the remaining of what used to be a delicate figure, my favorite figure.
His eyes meet mine. “Why?”
“Um, nothing.” I try not to be obvious, grabbing the broken bits and piling them up on one palm.
“You seem to be concerned of Jaejoong.”
“ Really? It’s nothing.” My answer is half-sincere, it shows. “You seem to be concerned of him too.”
That earns a laugh from Jaewook. “Concerned? That’s just how he is...attention seeker.” Jaewook breathes, returning to the working table.
“Yunho.” The way my name rolls out from Jaewook’s tongue, it should be illegal.
“Yes?”
“Are you free this Sunday?”
“ Um, I..”
“ A date with me should be interesting than studying, right?”
The invitation is something I never thought of having. I do it out of reflex, smiling so wide, my jaws ache. He chuckles at my silly face. “Shopping? What about that?”
This is too good to be true.
“Are you dating anyone else?”
I shook my head fast. I am not dating anyone. I couldn’t be dating anyone else.
“No, not at all. It’s okay.”
“See you then.”
Jaewook has the ability to melt anyone with his smile.
Today, he melts me.