Chapter 12 #2
“What’s different?”
“I can be meaner,” she explained. “Less patient.”
“So can I.”
“I can want too much from you and not say it out loud. I never tell people what I want, and I get angry when they reject me.”
“And I try too hard to get people to like me.” They were just stating facts now. He already knew all of this about her, and the idea that any of this was a version of her made his chest hurt. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Giving up everything only to lose you,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing. “Cal. I’m not…I mean, my best friend couldn’t even—”
“Your best friend isn’t worthy of you.”
“I’m not worthy of you!”
“You really believe that?” Cal asked, surprised that this was still on the table. He was here. He was in this bed with her, stealing all the time he could, because he wanted to spend time with her over literally anyone else. But she didn’t know that, did she?
“Maybe.” Her voice was small, and he wanted more than anything to wrap her in his arms and shield her from all the terrible people who ever made her feel unworthy. “I’m not brave enough for this.”
Compliments. She liked compliments. “You are brave. You came here and did all of this because you wanted to be brave. You’re worthy because you want it. I can’t promise this will work out, Lia. But…don’t you want to give it a try?”
“I'm leaving soon,” she insisted.
“Do you only like me because I’m an idol?”
“No. No! How can you even ask me that!” She shook her head, and groaned, and he didn’t know if it was because she knew exactly what she wanted to say but was trying to recalculate it to seem less mean, or she didn’t really have anything else to say.
She looked miserable, and he felt miserable, but god, clearly they needed to talk about this.
“You’re my dream guy. In all the ways that matter to me.
I’m not interested in a world that doesn’t get to hear you sing. To hear your music.”
“So what are you saying, Lia?” He was getting frustrated, which he didn’t want to be. He wanted to be patient and understanding. He wanted to be the perfect boyfriend, if he was even allowed to have that privilege.
“I’m saying I feel the same way about you,” she said, and he couldn’t deny that.
There was a look on her face that made him feel like he was really seeing her for the first time, every emotion, every feeling was clear as day.
She touched his hand and it was like she was squeezing it around his heart.
“That a part of me would have wanted to ask you to fly home with me. I can see it, introducing you to my Ate. Bringing you to my favorite places. And it’s wonderful, and it literally makes my chest hurt just thinking about how much I can love you. ”
He felt that too. She’d given the ache a name, and it was there, and he didn’t know what to do to make it go away.
“But what would it really be like, if I stayed? You would always feel this pressure to make me feel better about myself, and I would constantly ask about your work, your career. If you came with me, you would give up all of your dreams here. And it won’t be the same for you, making music without Siwan keeping you focused, without Soobin making sure you still enjoyed it.
And sure, maybe we could work it out. Maybe we can go long distance, and maybe we make it. But what if we don’t?”
“You’re scared.”
“Yes! Aren’t you?”
“Yes. But aren’t you willing to take that risk with me?” He knew what it was like, to be left behind. To give someone everything only for them to want to take it back. He had that in him to bear it, still, maybe. But he didn’t know. Lia clearly had decided she couldn’t take that risk.
“I can’t imagine it would be fair to ask each other to give up their dreams,” Lia said. “I could never do that to you. Not for me.”
Cal couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to, if it meant that time would pass, if it meant this would end. He hadn’t planned on talking about this now—he hadn’t even planned on it at all—but they were here now, and he was already writing the music to it in his head.
“So…this is it?” Cal asked, and he hated how his voice trembled a bit.
He hated that he didn’t know what he was going to do with all the space he’d already carved out for her.
He hated that he’d been so sure when they asked him to write a note for the album, ‘to my ex. I hope I fought well.’ It would just be there forever, like his songs about Bomseok.
“We’re just going to pretend like this never happened? ”
Her breath came out in a shudder, and Cal wanted to say he wasn’t going to cry. But he could feel it in his chest, emotions threatening to burst, his heart ready to break.
“In three years,” she said, and her voice was strained.
She sat next to him on the bed and placed her hand over his.
She was looking at his hands, brushing her fingers over the calluses and blisters playing the guitar had created.
There was so much love in that gesture that Cal wanted to drink it all in, wanted to kiss away the words he’d said.
“When everyone recognizes you as South Korea’s gift to music.
When you have your arena shows and your daesangs, and everything you ever wanted. ”
“I want you to be there.” He wanted to say.
“I will still know you,” Lia told him, determination on her face as she looked at him.
There was that look again, that look that knew everything would work out, knew exactly what needed to be done.
“I will know everything you’ve done to make it happen.
Everything you did to fight for me, your fan.
I’ll still be in the front row of your shows. And I will always love you that way.”
He wanted to say something. Wanted to kiss her and try to convince her to see his way, because he was selfish and he wanted her, and he didn’t want to lose this.
But his phone began to ring, and Cal was never more disinterested in answering than he was at that moment.
Lia’s laptop began to demand her attention as well.
She had mentioned she had a call scheduled with Mon today.
“Fuck.” She jolted out of bed as Cal did too, suddenly needing to wear a shirt for this conversation. “I’ll take this call in the living room.”
Cal looked down at the name trying to claim his attention. Seo Minji. Why was Minji calling him? Now, of all times?
“No, I’ll take my call in my room—”
Lia flapped her hand at him, and he had no idea what that was supposed to mean. They both had on their house slippers, and Cal didn’t want her to leave the room. He didn’t want to leave the room either. But their lives outside were calling, and neither of them had any plans to ignore those calls.
He kissed Lia instead, stealing it when he could. God, she let him, melting under his touch, holding him tight. A small part of him didn’t want to let her go.
“I would have braved a traffic jam for you,” he said, finally. “Three traffic jams.”
“Just three?” she joked.
But he had to let her go.
He turned away and moved to his bedroom. “Yoboseyo?”