Chapter 23
Ibit my thumbnail as I watched the loading circle going round and round. With my other hand I fiddled with the hem of my dress. I kept making micro-adjustments to how I was sitting, watching my image in the corner of the laptop screen.
Finally, Jihoon answered, he was smiling, and instantly I felt my shoulders relax.
“Saengil chukha hae!” I said, blushing slightly, my tongue still feeling too clumsy for the language I was trying my damnedest to learn.
His eyes crinkled at the sides, making my heart feel light.
“You’re so cute.”
“Happy birthday, Joon.”
He’d spent his day doing birthday related activities with the other members, and he’d just finished a live.
I’d watched briefly with Mum and Dad as we ate lunch.
Dad had been endlessly amused by the antics of five grown adults falling over each other, wearing funny hats, whereas Mum had commented that it was ill-advised to point confetti canons at each other’s faces. Hard to argue that point.
“Have you had a good day?” I asked.
“It is better now.”
He smiled at me, and the lightness of the moment was a weight lifted from my shoulders. Too regularly our conversations had been strained. If they happened at all.
I opened my mouth to say something, but just then, Jihoon’s head whipped around to watch something out of view of the camera. He leaned back in his chair and groaned, but the grin on his face told me this was mischief, not inconvenience.
Though, as the subject of the groan came into view, I considered it might be both.
Sungmin came towards Jihoon’s desk holding a little cake dotted with candles. He was singing him happy birthday – in Korean – and Jihoon gamely allowed him to finish, all the while looking mildly aggrieved at the interruption.
Sungmin spotted me on the monitors and offered an enthusiastic wave.
“Annyeong, Kaiya!” He called.
“Annyeong,” I replied, grinning as I waved back.
Jihoon tried to push him away, but Sungmin would not be moved, indicating at the candles and even though I didn’t understand everything, the meaning was clear enough.
Jihoon sighed, but took the little cake, and, holding it so I could see, blew the candles out.
Sungmin clapped and cheered while Jihoon rolled his eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling.
I cheered aswell. Seeing this carefree scene of, well, not domestic bliss but something in the ballpark, was wonderful.
Perhaps things would get better.
“What did you wish for?” I asked once Sungmin had been kicked out.
“There’s only one thing I want, jagiya,” he said, shaking his head ruefully.
“Ah, don’t tell me!” I held a hand up to the camera, as if I could somehow push it through the plastic device to slap over his mouth.
“It’s supposed to be a secret, or it won’t come true!”
He rolled his eyes but obliged.
“Anyway,” I said, pushing down my nerves and standing up, “would it look a little something like this?”
I saw his eyebrows draw together as he watched me, and then his face transformed into something a little less confused as I pulled off my dress to reveal a lace-edged, matching set of lingerie.
I’d bought it on impulse, not really knowing when I’d bother wearing it – it was absolutely not the kind of underwear I’d wear on a casual day.
But for right now, on my boyfriend’s birthday… I’d wear it.
His jaw fell slack.
“Cheonsa,” he groaned, eyes glued to the screen, and I giggled.
I still felt awkward, but his reaction helped. I gave a little twirl, showing him the cute little heart-shaped cutout on the back. He groaned again.
When–
“Hyung,” said a voice, followed by a stream of Korean so fast I couldn’t catch a word before Sungmin came into view.
What followed would have qualified as a comedy sketch had it happened to anyone else.
Sungmin, obviously catching sight of me, semi-nude, on Jihoon’s frankly massive computer monitors, screeched to a stop, halting in his tracks so violently it was like watching him crash into an invisible wall.
He seemed to bounce off thin air, tripping backwards.
He fell on his arse with a gasp so audible it seemed to echo around my bedroom, even as a strangled cry escaped me.
I tried to duck out of sight, but with my computer set up opposite my bed, there was no where to go. So, I did the only thing I could think of in my panicked state.
I launched myself across the bed like a marine throwing themselves onto a live grenade, sliding across the cotton sheets and tumbling down onto the other side of the bed in a muddle of arms and legs.
I popped my head up, crouching behind the bed like a groundhog checking for Spring. I could just about make out the scenes of absolute chaos on my laptop. Jihoon seemed to be beating Sungmin with a pillow, while Sungmin seemed to be trying to claw himself out of Jihoon’s room.
I watched in growing detachment, listening to the tinny sounds of their fight and the unmistakable sound of Sungmin laughing, and apologising repeatedly, growing higher and higher in pitch until – eventually, and out of frame – I heard the door slam.
Something in me snapped; the line between mortification and amusement blurred, and I laughed until I was nearly sick, doubled up over the side of the bed.
It was several minutes before I was able to emerge, reclaim my dress off the floor – not my dignity, never again my dignity – and cover myself.
Jihoon was still out of shot, loud shouts in the distance telling me the commotion had moved into the main living area, and by the sounds of it, now included other members of GVibes. Probably wondering why Joon was beating Sungmin senseless.
By the time he came back, I was sitting on my bed with my laptop on my legs.
Jihoon slumped into his chair, looking dishevelled, and more than a little flushed.
“Ky, I am so sorry,” he started, “I should have locked the door. If I had known–”
“That I was going to strip for you?” I raised one eyebrow, smirking.
Jihoon groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
“I’m going to go beat Sungmin again.” He got up from his chair, and I burst out laughing.
“Stop, stop!” I cried, giggles spilling over my words.
He sat down. “He stole my birthday present,” Joon grumbled. “I will not forgive him.”
“Your present is still here,” I said coyly at the same time as I pulled the strap of my dress down, revealing one side of my lacy, and wholly unpractical, bra.
His gaze zeroed in with hungry precision, and for a moment I wondered if this brief glimpse was worse than having nothing at all. I pushed the thought away. This wasn’t forever. In fact, maybe it wouldn’t even be for much longer.
Mum had finished her radiotherapy, now we just got on with it – as she kept saying. Much of the country was back to an approximation of normal.
Perhaps by Christmas…
Jihoon’s voice brought me back from where my mind had wandered to.
“You are the only thing I have ever wanted so much,” he said in a voice thick with some unknown emotion. I watched his eyes slide closed, and I pulled my straps back up, slightly self-conscious. Perhaps I’d been right to speculate the tease made the absence worse.
The silence expanded for a few moments, until it grew unbearable.
Needing to fill the void, I feigned a cheerful voice as I said, “Did you get the actual gift I sent? Please tell me you did, I sent it weeks ago, but you never know with international mail at the moment…” I forced myself to stop, biting my lip to keep from flinging words around.
Jihoon inhaled deeply, and it was like watching his soul refill his body. He sat up straighter and opened his eyes. He took a second, but when he looked at me again, it was with the softness I’d come to associate with assurance.
I pushed aside the lingering anxiety, telling myself I didn’t feel the twist in my belly.
“Yes, Ky, your mysterious box arrived this morning. I am so curious to see what’s inside. Is it supposed to rattle?” He made a shaking motion with his hands.
“Rattle?” I said in alarm. “No! Oh my God, where is it–”
Jihoon started laughing, waving his hands in front of his face and halting my spiral of concern for the package I’d spent a not-insignificant amount of time carefully preparing.
“I’m joking, jagiya, just a joke. It is not rattling.” He pursed his lips in a way that said he was trying not to laugh.
I furrowed my brows and poked my tongue out. “Tease,” I accused.
“No, jagiya, that was you.” Jihoon winked, and I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.
“Let me get it.” He stood up from the chair and walked out of frame, but came back seconds later holding a very well-packaged box that was probably more tape than actual cardboard. He held it carefully, looking down at it in bemusement.
Besides chaos, and a thirty-second peep show, I’d gotten Joon something far more normal for his birthday.
“Open it,” I urged.
He smiled at me indulgently, and for the next couple of minutes, I watched with glee as he tore through the layers upon layers of tape.
“Kaiya, were you expecting this box to travel under water?” He grumbled, resorting to ripping a particularly stubborn bit with his teeth.
Eventually though, he broke through the protective layers and was able to open the box. I watched him carefully as he took in the contents. A myriad of emotions crossed his face, morphing through expressions too quickly for me to catalogue.
I’d sent him a box full of memories.
I watched as he pulled out a ring-bound scrap book. It wasn’t large, about the size of a greeting card. Jihoon’s eyebrows furrowed as he flipped it open, and I watched with fascination as his face shifted with every page turned.
“You kept all this?” He asked, thickly.
“Of course I did,” I said, smiling softly.
The book was filled with little bits and pieces of the life we’d had before – well, before.