Chapter 8 #3
Lia’s feet scampered on the ground next to him as she slowed herself down, and he could almost see the lecture on her lips, even in the terrible lighting of the park.
He could see her in general shapes—her scrunched nose, her glasses, her eyes and her pouted lip—but Cal felt like there was nothing else clearer to him than knowing she was going to tell him how wrong he was.
How he deserved to love things, how it wasn’t so breakable.
But she could use those lessons, too. What a pair they made.
“When Bomseok asked me to move to Canada with him, I almost said yes,” he said, and that he was sure he’d never told anyone. “It was so tempting. I’d just come out of the military, then the pandemic.”
“I remember.”
“And here was the man I loved asking me to run away with him to a place where it was okay for me to be myself.”
“Why didn’t you?” Lia asked. She’d stopped swinging now, her nose still buried in his scarf. “I would have. Bomseok is very sexy.”
That made him laugh. She had no idea. “Let me guess. He was your ex—”
“—bias wrecker, correct.” She nodded. “It was the hands!”
“I have nice hands,” he argued, holding them up in the dim light.
“And pretty eyes.”
“So do I.” He was deliberately blinking rapidly at Lia now, and they both laughed at how stupid they were both being.
“I always felt like it meant more to you, though,” she told him. “You wanted so many things for CoBOLT, even when we were younger.”
“I did.” He wanted things that had yet come to pass, things that felt even more out of reach now than before. He could make a list of them right now and talk in depth about how impossible any of it seemed. “I still do. It’s delusional.”
“Delusion can get you pretty far.” Lia pointed out. Touché.
“But when he left, and we were on hiatus, I tried. I tried to make music the way I always used to, and it just didn’t feel right.
It tanked, and rightfully so. It felt like I’d lost the magic that I had when I was younger.
And I was just doing things because I wanted to feel something.
Or feel like I was still working for a dream.
I thought I needed him to do this. That I’m bad at this. ”
“You are not bad at this.” Lia scoffed, shaking her head. “I refuse to let you believe that.”
“And I refuse to let you believe that you were meant for rejection,” he said back as quickly as she had. “That letting people in wouldn’t make you happy.”
“Cal, I…” she hesitated. “Do you know how hard it is to ask things from people, and still feel like it’s not enough?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened in surprise like she’d completely forgotten what he did for a living. But yes, he understood perfectly well—to be loved but still want more. To keep things to yourself, but want someone else to understand. He knew it better than most.
“That being said,” he continued, clearing his throat, because he was locked in. “I wanted to tell you about the mini album.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me. I don’t want spoilers!” Lia exclaimed, pressing her hands (which she’d tucked into the sleeves of her jacket like paws) against her ears and shaking her head. “Lalala.”
Cal grinned and tugged at the chain of her swing, pulling her close enough that he could use his free hand to pull her hand down.
“Baby, they aren’t spoilers when we’re living together.” He grinned, knowing what that sounded like, knowing why she’d gasped and why her eyes widened in shock. “Now listen.”
Oh. She liked that. Even with the darkness that surrounded them, it was hard to miss the flash of heat in her eyes. “I’m…listening.”
“The new mini album’s theme,” he said, and why was he breathless? “Is ‘come back to me.’”
“I…I see,” she said, blinking rapidly. “Come back to who?”
“You,” he said. The words were easier to say now, mostly because there was nothing to hide from her now.
“I wanted to write an album that would make you come back to me, and the band. I was thinking about you, the way Echo made you feel. The way you never know how many layers to wear, the way you like your coffee with milk.”
“My stomach gets acidic otherwise,” she pointed out, albeit weakly.
“When you called me your ex, I wanted to do the thing I wasn’t willing to do when Bomseok left. I wanted to fight for what we had—or, what you had with me, and me with you.”
“I’ll lose.” She frowned. “If it’s a fight, I’ll lose. I’ve seen your muscles.”
“Not literally, silly,” he told her, although it did make him laugh.
“I wanted the band to fight our way back to the fans we’ve missed.
To make good on our promise to always be there for you.
It’s new, but it’s still us. We’ve changed, but we like the band we’ve become and we want to share that with you again.
One that’s ready to fight. I want us to fight to win you over. ”
“That’s…” Lia blinked, and the truth seemed to sink in for her, finally. “I’m worth fighting for?”
“Yes.” Because it was that easy.
“You know I…” She seemed to have a hard time finding her words. She took her glasses off, and Cal wasn’t sure why until the tears in her eyes caught the light. She wiped them away with the pads of her fingers, and Cal resisted the urge to wipe them away for her.
“I quit liking the band because I thought I needed to outgrow it. I kept trying to live up to this expectation of who I should be, what I deserved, what kind of life, or friends I should have. And if I take anything away from this trip—” not including the skincare, the perfume, stationery bits and maybe a CoBOLT hoodie?
—“it’s that I’m just a girl who is trying to live her life.
Figure out what that’s going to look like. I can make it what I want to be.”
He said nothing and waited.
“I don’t need much,” she continued. “I don’t ask for much either. But I deserve more than what Megan gave me. You make me feel like I deserve more. That an idol who doesn’t know me, doesn’t know anything about me, cared enough to write songs for me is…very parasocial.”
“True.”
“But makes me feel seen, in a weird way.”
Her hair was blowing gently in her face, and out of consideration for her already cold fingers, Cal held a hand up until she nodded, letting him tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ears.
“You know whatever happens with this,” she said. “This is good. Making a choice is good.”
“Whatever happens,” he agreed. “I want to know that I did everything I could to earn your love.”
“You say that to all your exes?”
“And I mean it, with all my heart,” he said, pulling back and opening his arm to her, because he wanted to hold her, to let her know that he’d heard her, that what she said mattered to him.
And she hugged him, burying her face in his chest. He could hear her sniffle, and he wished he didn’t have to hold on to her swing to pull her in, because just one arm wasn’t enough to hold her as close as he wanted.
“Can I say something?” she asked, looking up at him. Cal would have listened to her recite the entire contents of the Korean, English and Tagalog dictionaries. He nodded instead. “I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to tell me this. You didn’t have to let me in, or listen.”
“Yes, I—”
“You, Ahn Yeonjin, who does everything for the people he wants to like. Getting to know you, getting to talk to you and be in your space,” she continued. “It’s been a great source of joy for me. I love being around you, Cal. I love spending time with you.”
“I have to remember to thank your friend one day,” he told her.
And this was another thing he didn’t plan for.
He didn’t even know what this was, but tonight was going to be one full of truths, and he wanted it to be all out for her.
“Because you came all the way here to stop thinking of her. And now I can’t stop thinking of you. ”
Lia loosened her hold on him, and there were stars in her eyes as she looked up at him. Cal wiped away the stray tear that was still on her cheek.
“This part,” he said, because he knew she was maybe thinking of it. “This is just for you.”
Then he kissed her, and it was as if all the headspace he’d dedicated to thoughts of Lia Mertola were all leading to this exact point—his lips on hers, her arms around his, in the darkness of an autumn night in Seoul.
He felt a rush of warmth then (a bolt of blue, maybe?) more so when Lia deepened the kiss, when she leaned in, when her jacket paw clutched at his thigh.
“For the record,” she told him when she pulled away, both of them breathless with flushed cheeks. “That was still a spoiler.”
“If I kiss you again,” Cal said. “Would you forgive me?”
And while they did kiss again, Lia wouldn’t forgive him. Well. Maybe. Maybe she needed to kiss him a little more first.
posted by @Siwan (verified), posted one hour ago
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