9. 아홉 ‘ahob’
With everything that happened last night, Daldust’s letter completely slipped my mind. I stare at it on my desk as I shake the thought of the empty house I encountered when Elisa and I returned from the roof. They didn’t even have the decency to say a proper goodbye.
I grab the envelope opener I bought just for this occasion—I called it a necessary unnecessary item to purchase—and put it to work.
“Yeah, I figured your name was Delilah haha. Daldust is fine by now.
What makes you think I have an agenda? I just want to get to know you.
Is this your first time pen palling or have you tried it before? If so, why did you decide to do it?
If you ask me, I think it’s a great way to get to know people on a deeper level. No social media, no googling their name, judging them by their appearance. Call me an old soul, but I love the feeling of writing on paper.
Dear Delilah, tell me something about you that brings you joy.
Daldust”
I smile at the letter, and for a moment, all my worries vanish. Maybe Daldust can become my comfort person.
I’m glad I opened the letter today. Since it’s Saturday, I closed the shop earlier and I am now at home with literally nothing to do, so I can actually take my time writing them back, still with the feeling he left me present .
“Yes, it’s my first time and I’m doing it to meet new people—in this case you—and to open up more to someone since I have a hard time doing it face to face.
To be honest, not even this conversation I would have with a stranger, but I feel like since you don’t know who I am, it’s easier to be myself.
And your answer made me smile. Maybe you are a decent person haha.
Something I like about me? My passion.
I love profoundly, something I’m not sure I like since it doesn’t always—rarely—benefit me. But the fact that I put my everything in the things I enjoy doing and I give my all to make them perfect is one of the few things I appreciate in myself.
What about you? What is something you like and dislike about yourself?
Delilah”
I meant what I said. They inspire trust in me, as if I can talk to them about anything. If they give decent advice, I think Ms Julie might be in danger of losing a client. I laugh at the thought.
Yesterday, because of my parents, I didn’t go to therapy. They don’t know about that side of my life. If they did, I’m sure they would criticise me. They are the type to bottle up everything and either explode at one point, or like my mum does, turn to everyone around you so you don’t look at yourself.
To me, that’s toxic, and I want to have a rapport with my feelings and thoughts. They have dragged me to a dark place in life and I want to understand and face them so I can get out of it.
So, next week I’m having extra time on my session, but until I get there, Daldust will have to be my therapy. Hopefully I will receive a new letter before Friday, if I send mine on Monday.
Elisa is also introducing me to yoga tonight. She said it’s perfect to let go of all your worries and focus on the present moment; that sold it to me. I’m just waiting for her to get home.
I want to check up on the guys, apologise for how my mum treated them, but then I remember what I overheard Elijah say, and I get jitters at the thought of seeing him. Maybe he just said that to get to my mother…
All this time I’ve had a crush on him, but the more I get to know him—even though I’m still very attracted physically—the more I see our differences and the more confused I get. I know people say opposites attract, but too much opposite isn’t good.
Most of my feelings for him came from a fantasy in my head, so I’m still wrapping my thoughts around reality.
Elisa’s voice sounds in my head, saying woman up as she once did before. When I asked if it wasn’t man up, she answered: Women suffer a lot more than men, in all aspects of life, and have to put up with society on top of our own struggles, so we have a higher pain tolerance and have to be brave all the time. But once more they had to create a phrase to be more of a man—as if they are the better species—so no, it shouldn’t be man up, it should be woman up, because we are bloody bosses who, if given the chance, would rule this universe.
That stuck with me, and I never said the words man up again.
So I do that. I endure my fears and put on my brave face, stepping out of my room and up to their front door.
I knock and listen to the sound of footsteps become louder on the other side.
‘Good afternoon, Lilah.’ The tall, Korean man with dark doe eyes greets me.
‘Good afternoon, Moonie.’ The corners of my lips lift as I peek inside to see if Elijah’s home.
I can already pronounce his name correctly, but Moonie stayed with me and I believe he likes it.
‘He’s not home,’ he says, and I pretend to be confused to whom he’s speaking about. ‘I saw you in the back of the room when Elijah said that to your mum. You heard it, right?’
‘Is it true? Or was he just trying to mess with my mum?’ I ask, avoiding his eyes.
‘Honestly, I don’t know. It was a surprise for both me and Elisa, but he has been talking more about you.’
‘Oh…’
‘I thought you’d be happier.’ He chuckles.
‘Why?’ I try to hide the panic those words left me with.
‘I’ve seen how you look at him, so I thought that knowing your feelings were mutual, you’d be happier.’ Before I have a chance to speak, he adds, ‘Do you want to come in? I have something in the oven.’
I nod and walk inside. Their flat is wider than ours and way less decorated. Neutral colours are the theme.
While ours opens to the hall—my room and the loo to the right, living room and kitchen to the left, Elisa’s room at the end of the hall—theirs has an open space with a living room and dining area in the back.
I follow him to the left side of the open space where the entrance for the kitchen stands, and I stay by the wall as he takes the roasted vegetables out of the oven and puts them into a pan on the stove. I glance behind me to where another entrance like this stands, assuming the rooms and loo are through there.
He adds cooked rice and a bit of soy sauce. He’s making fried rice, or how Koreans say it: bokkeumbap .
‘You cook the vegetables in the oven first?’ I ask. I’ve seen no one do that.
‘Yeah, it’s the way my mum does. It makes them extra crunchy.’
I’ll have to try that.
‘I’m still figuring out my feelings,’ I say, going back to our conversation. ‘Does he know how I feel?’
‘I don’t think so,’ he says. ‘Want to try?’ Moon Hee holds a spoonful of fried rice in front of me.
I walk next to him and open my mouth for him to feed me.
‘Careful, it’s hot.’ He blows on the spoon before giving it to me.
‘Mmh, mashisso (delicious).’ I beam with a full mouth, and his eyes smile. ‘I always thought he liked Elisa…’
‘I think he did at some point, but he likes their friendship more. He has grown to like yours too,’ he says, and I nod in understanding.
Moon Hee grabs an extra plate and serves me a meal. We sit at their dining table and eat.
‘Thank you for the meal.’
This was so random, but I’m glad I’m so at ease with Moonie.
I remember how he talked about his mum, and it brings back what I came here to do.
‘I’m sorry for what my mum said,’ I say.
‘It’s okay, you defended us pretty well.’ He gives me a small smile, his eyes a world that pulls me in with every glance.
‘Do you see your mum a lot?’ I ask, trying to make small talk.
‘Yes, I visit her at least three times a week.’
‘Wow, you’re a really good son.’
‘We’re the only ones of our family here, so I try to be.’
My whole family lives here, but I wish I had the connection with at least one family member like Moon Hee has with his mum. I had that once, but she’s no longer here, and I miss her every day.
‘How long have you lived here?’ I’m trying to not be nosy, but he sparks curiosity in me.
‘Five years,’ the man sitting across the table from me answers. ‘You don’t get along with your parents?’ he asks. I see…It’s his turn now.
‘It’s complicated,’ I say, getting up and taking our empty plates into the kitchen.
‘You don’t need to do that.’ He watches me get the kitchen gloves on to wash the dishes.
‘It’s the least I can do, after you cooked so well.’ I smile.
‘That means something, coming from a professional chef.’ He stands up and walks to me, coming closer to help me roll up my sleeves, which kept falling.
I look at him for a second while his eyes are on my arms and get a strange sensation, not an apprehensive one…a familiar one.
We hear the door close, and he steps back. I turn to continue washing the dishes.
‘Lilah?’ Elijah asks, entering the kitchen.
Yeah, this must look strange to him. It even looks strange to me.
‘Hi,’ I say, putting the dishes aside to dry and taking off the gloves.
‘What am I missing here?’ He looks confused, and Moon Hee and I laugh.
‘I came to talk to you guys and Moonie was cooking, so I came in.’
‘Oh…’ he says. ‘Moonie?’
‘It’s the nickname she created for me,’ The guy standing by my side explains.
‘Ah, I didn’t know you two were so close,’ Elijah says, his jaw tensing.
‘Oh, no, we aren’t! Not like that.’ I shake my hand at him.
‘Cool…’ The man dressed in a tight black shirt and jeans leaves the room.
Moon Hee stays silent, staring at me. If I had a coin for every time he does that, I’ll easily become rich.
‘I wanted to apologise for what my mum said,’ I say, walking after Elijah to the living room.
‘It’s fine.’ He pats the top of my head.
They always say it’s fine, even when it’s not. It shouldn’t be fine, but who am I to tell that to anyone, if I do the same?
‘Either way, I’m sorry.’ I glance up at him.
‘We know.’ The corner of his mouth lifts, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip.
I leave their flat and go to mine. Maybe Elisa is home already. I call for her, but receive no answer, so I move to my bedroom and grab a book to read.
A few minutes later, I hear the front door and Elisa calls for me.
‘In my room!’
‘Sorry, the lunch took a lot longer than it was supposed to.’ She enters my bedroom. Elisa has lunch with some girls she grew up with every once in a while just so they can catch up. ‘I’m just going to change and then we can leave for the gym. The yoga class starts in half an hour.’
We get ready and leave with fifteen minutes to spare. To our advantage, the gym is near our block of flats.
***
From the name alone—Hot Yoga — you could tell I was drenched in sweat by the end. It’s more challenging than it appears and gets your present awareness heightened, otherwise you might just fall flat on your face.
I enjoyed it, and it actually didn’t bother me that there were more people present. It felt more like a community doing something together, refreshing to my loner self.
When I get home, I walk straight to the shower—I won at rock-paper-scissors with Elisa—and it never felt better. My muscles will feel sore tomorrow, but I feel more relaxed. The movements also unlocked some knots I had in my back; a massage without the masseuse .
When I get to my room, I grab my phone to document my first time doing yoga on social media, and as I do, I receive a text from Elijah.
When did we exchange numbers? Flashbacks of drunk me dialling his number on my phone come back to me.
I open the text and read: *Can we talk?*
Talk? What can he possibly want to talk to me about?
A thousand thoughts run through my mind, endless possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. So, I tell myself: Woman up, Delilah.
*Sure* I send.
A few seconds later he responds. *Meet me on the roof in thirty* .