6. 여섯 ‘yeoseot’
‘Not me,’ they say in sync.
‘That’s not fair!’ I object.
‘You were the last one,’ Elisa says.
‘I didn’t even know it had started. Shouldn’t you count to three or something?’
‘Were you confused, guys?’ she asks, and they both shake their heads.
‘Fine.’ I pout and stand up.
Damn the time I suggested for one of us to ask the neighbours for lemons. It’s two in the morning. I don’t think anyone will answer the door.
I observe all the doors on my floor, trying to hear any sound from the inside—any slight chance someone is awake. As I approach one door to listen closer, it opens.
I jump backwards and look down, catching my breath.
‘Oh, fuck!’ I feel my heartbeat through my chest with my hand. ‘You scared me.’
‘Sorry, I’m taking the rubbish outside,’ the woman says.
I remember that I’m standing in front of her door, preventing her passage, and move to the side. ‘Right, I’m sorry.’
She’s near the end of the corridor when I’m reminded of the sole reason I was spying on her door.
‘Excuse me,’ I say, trying to keep my voice low for the neighbours but loud enough for her to listen.
She turns around, and I take that as my cue to keep going. ‘Do you, for any chance, have any lemons?’
She chuckles and nods. ‘Help me take out the rubbish and I’ll give you lemons.’
I smile and run up to her. We stand in front of the elevator for a few seconds, waiting for it to arrive at our floor, and I watch my reflection through drunken eyes.
Did I just run up to a stranger as if I’d known her all my life? And am I really going into a dark alley with her?
Inside the elevator, I have the urge to ask, ‘Why are you taking the rubbish at this hour?’
‘Why do you need lemons at this hour?’ she asks.
‘Because I want to drink tequila,’ I respond, unlike her, and she laughs.
‘I can see that you are a bit tipsy.’ The corner of her mouth lifts. ‘I like to take out the rubbish when it’s calm outside.’
When we arrive at her flat, I stay by the door and she goes in.
‘Here,’ she says, holding two lemons. ‘Is it enough?’
‘It’s more than enough, thank you.’ I lift the edges of my lips, closing my tired eyes. I grab the lemons and before she closes the door, I ask, ‘Do you want a shot?’
She smiles back. ‘Next time.’
Inside my flat, music flows through the atmosphere and a few laughs come from the living room.
‘Did you go buy them?’ Elijah asks as I walk into the room.
‘No, a neighbour gave me some,’ I say, placing the lemons on the table next to the closed bottle of tequila.
‘I went to check in on you and didn’t see you,’ he says.
‘Aww, little Elijah was worried about me.’ I am definitely drunk, sober me could never.
His cheeks turn red, and he looks down, so I put the focus back on me. ‘I helped her take the rubbish out in exchange for the lemons.’
‘You should have told us. Something could have happened to you. Do you even know who she is?’ Moonie stands up, another person who talks a lot more when drunk.
I chuckle, lifting my eyebrows. ‘What? Do you think she’s a serial killer?’
‘You never know.’ He stares into my eyes and I know he’s not joking. His dark moons stay on mine until my features relax.
I know she’s not a serial killer. That would be crazy.
‘Can you just shut up and drink? The game is called Truth or Shot, not Truth or Chit-Chat,’ Elisa says. I look at the table and notice she has already prepared the glasses, cut the lemon, and opened the salt. She really wants a tequila shot.
‘Moon Hee.’ My flatmate points at him. ‘Truth or shot?’
‘Truth,’ he says, and Elisa doesn’t look amused.
‘You are so not funny.’ She scowls, preparing to ask her question, but he interrupts any line of thought.
‘Not true.’ Moon Hee smiles and drinks a shot without hesitation, making her laugh.
‘Now, that’s what I’m talking about!’ My very drunk flatmate beams. ‘Now Lilah-’
‘Elijah, truth or shot?’ I ask before she can get me into the spotlight.
‘Truth,’ he says, which is not what I was expecting.
‘Is it true that you have a crush on Elisa?’ I ask. I’ve seen how he looks at her. It’s the way I look at him.
He chuckles. ‘Who doesn’t?’ he asks and looks at her.
‘Good point.’ I nod. ‘I guess it’s my turn to drink.’
‘I don’t,’ Moonie says, making me gaze at him.
His eyes—dark as the night—shine with millions of stars. They’re the type of eyes that draw you towards them, the type that makes you question if the popular belief of light eyes being prettier is indeed true.
I take my shot with a small smile and watch the corner of his mouth lift. Elijah is the bad-boy type of hot, but Moon Hee is the mysterious type, and between the two, I’ve always had a hard time choosing a favourite.
‘You don’t count; you never have a crush,’ Elijah says to Moon Hee. ‘Are you sure you are not aromantic?’
‘What if I am? My sexuality is not for you to have an opinion on. But no, I’m not. I have crushes,’ he says calmly with a straight face.
Mysterious. He is bloody mysterious.
‘You have a crush?’ the guy sitting next to Elisa blurts.
‘That’s not what I said,’ Moonie mutters.
‘He said he has crushes, as in general, not a specific one right now,’ my flatmate says, slapping Elijah’s arm.
‘Fine, fine.’ He rubs his arm with his hand. It doesn’t show much, but Elisa is strong. She has skinny arms that are all muscle underneath.
‘Who’s next?’ Elisa asks, drinking a shot without even playing.
‘My turn,’ Elijah says. ‘Lilah!’
My heart stops when he says my name and I glance at him, not sure how to react.
‘Truth or shot?’ he asks, tilting his head.
I want to swallow, but it’s a desert inside my throat. I grab a shot and drink it, making him frown.
‘Truth,’ I answer.
‘You know, the shot is supposed to be after…’ he says.
‘I was thirsty,’ I explain, and he huffs out a chuckle.
‘Okay. Do you have a crush on me?’
Huh?
I cough in surprise.
Of course, he knows I have a crush on him. But do I want to admit it?
I decide to take a page from his book and answer, ‘Who doesn’t?’ and he smirks, nodding.
‘I’m tired,’ Moon Hee says, getting up.
‘Me too.’ I admit.
‘No!’ Elisa drags. It’s definitely time for bed.
‘Yes, you need to sleep. And so do I,’ I tell her, and she pouts.
‘We’re leaving then,’ Elijah says, moving next to his friend.
We walk them to the door and stay as they walk away. To my surprise, they don’t take many steps. They get to the flat in front of ours and open its door.
‘Wait! You live there?’ I raise my eyebrows.
‘How do you think I met them?’ Elisa mutters to me.
‘Well, goodnight ladies,’ Elijah says, making a sign-off gesture with his hand. Moonie looks at us and does a little bow, ending with a gorgeous smile, and enters.
I’m still wrapping my head around them being our next-door neighbours inside our home.
‘How long have they been living here?’ I ask my flatmate. How have I never seen them?
‘Elijah has been here for the past year, but Moon Hee only moved in a month ago. He was living with his mum before. She is also here in London from what I’ve heard, but he wanted a bit more freedom, and it’s closer to their shop.’
How did I miss Elijah in the building for an entire year ?
As if reading my thoughts, Elisa speaks. ‘You probably never noticed because every time you saw them in the building you thought they were coming to meet me and you never saw them leave the flat before tonight.’
‘Probably,’ I say to myself, walking towards my room.
What a night.
I haven’t had a social night like this in years. It felt good.
First the letters and now this. I already have so much to talk about in my Friday session.
But now, I need to sleep because I’m working in the morning and my body doesn’t react to alcohol like it did ten years ago.
***
‘Ah.’ I groan, turning off my alarm for the third time.
I hate being responsible. I don’t actually hate it—I think that is a wonderful quality, but I hate it right now. My head is pounding so much.
I make the effort and get up.
I grab the first thing I see in my wardrobe and put it on. It’s in these moments I’m glad to have such a neutral wardrobe. It’s all black for today. Black as my soul feels at this moment.
I get ready and grab my pen pal letter to send. I skip breakfast, since I can eat at the bakery. The moment I close my front door, I’m stopped by an early rising Moon Hee.
‘Oh, hi,’ I say as he stares at me.
He’s wearing black trackies and an oversized black T-shirt. The hallway light shines on his hair, and I catch on to some sweat droplets on his forehead.
‘Good morning. I was going to bring you this.’ He lifts the corners of his mouth and raises the bottle he has in his hand.
I look at the bottle, intrigued.
‘It’s a hangover cure, my mum’s recipe.’ His chest rises and drops in strong movements.
‘Really? Oh, thank you so much. I really need it.’
‘Yeah, I figured. It does wonders. Elijah always asks for it.’
‘Did you run here?’ I ask.
‘Hmm…not exactly.’ He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I went on my morning run before I came here. I saw the drink I made when I woke up as I got to the flat and thought you might need some. You were pretty buzzed last night.’
‘Yes…I was.’ I bite my lower lip and tilt my head down.
Moon Hee brings the cure into my line of vision and I grab it before looking up at him with a smile. It’s funny how with him the conversations are so simple, yet enough. Words are unnecessary between us; we communicate through silent glances. That’s something I’ve never had and I can’t stop wondering why or how it happens.
I spent all morning thinking about how much my life seems to have changed from the moment I decided to take ahold of it.
From the outside, it might not seem like it has changed much. I’m still me, still baking and running a business, still shy, an introvert, but to me it has changed. It has been slowly changing since I entered therapy, figuring out my traumas and having someone I can talk to, with no judgement. Someone who I know is there to help me even when I break down while speaking. But the moment I got tired of my shit was the moment I let go, let go of my fear of change. I never knew how liberating change could feel.
I know I still have a long way to go—a lot of things are still triggering, and I still have panic attacks—but I can see a brighter future.
I just closed the bakery for lunch, and now I’m walking over to the post office to send my letter. From my first impression, Daldust seems like a cool person. I hope they like me too.
After sending the letter, I go over to Greener’s. I haven’t been there since what happened with Jeremiah, and I wonder how he’s doing.
Becca is at the counter when I walk in. No sign of Jeremiah for now.
She greets me and points to the table near the window, my table—not that I bought it, but she knows it’s the one I choose every time I can.
‘So, when are you free to prepare the collaboration?’ the redheaded woman asks.
‘I’m free tomorrow after I close the shop. Can you meet then?’
‘I can. I’ll ask Jer if he’s available.’
‘Speaking of Jer…how is he? Does he look better?’ I’m trying to be subtle. I’m not sure he has told her what happened.
‘He seems better, yes. He’s in the kitchen if you want to see him while you wait for your food.’ She nods her head to the back of the restaurant.
‘You know what? I’ll take my order to him. That customer is calling for you,’ I say, getting up and walking towards the kitchen.
I knock on the open door, and the chef looks behind in my direction .
‘Lilah,’ he says, eyes wide open.
‘Hey Jer. How are you?’
‘Good, working…’ He glances at the food on the stove. I know he’s busy, but I still have a gut feeling that he’s rushing me out. He used to spend all the time I was here talking to me unless a customer called.
‘Add my usual to your to-do’s.’
‘Of course,’ the man with freckles says and turns again to mix the food.
I walk back to my seat, uneasy. It hasn’t passed. I’m sure he remembers, and now I have to face him.
I don’t want to, but I have to.
Ahh! I scream inside my head.
I spend my entire meal thinking about how to approach him, and after rounds and rounds of thought, I opt for the simplest, but hardest way: to be direct.
After paying, I go back to the kitchen.
I knock again on the door, and he looks at me. ‘Are you leaving?’
‘Yes…Can you meet me in my bakery when you have a break? I need to talk to you.’
Jeremiah doesn’t ask why or about what; he simply nods and keeps slicing vegetables. He definitely knows what it’s about.