Traces and Storms

xvii

   My curiosity was killing me, but I was also afraid of knowing more things. I wanted to convince myself that I was ready to accept the blow and get on with life, but when I imagined myself entering the café, and joining them, I felt uncomfortable. I wasn't ready yet.

Before Myungsoo could even call, I set my phone in airplane mode, and despite the frigid wind, I walked on anyway. The sky was getting dark, and people walked at a faster pace than me, eager to escape the cold.

I stepped on something, and that caused me to pause, only to look down on the concrete ground. It was a black moleskin notebook. I retracted my foot, and carefully picked it up, hoping I didn't damage the surface. Thankfully, everything still remained intact. I didn't leave a dent. A name was stamped on the bottom right corner of the front cover: Kim Woobin.

"Excuse me!" I craned my neck, only to see a man approach me. He was tall, with long legs, and unkempt, black hair. His voice was deep—a complete contrast to Myungsoo's airy one. He had a navy blue scarf wrapped around his neck, with some of its fuzz already clinging to his black coat. "That's my notebook you're holding. I'm Woobin."

"Oh, then, here," I handed him the item quickly. His features weren't sharp, but he looked intimidating because of his thick eyebrows. I figured his image would heavily depend on his facial expression. If he'd smile, he'd be the boy-next-door type. But if he kept a neutral face, then people would have a difficult time talking to him. "I'm sorry I stepped on it."

He gratefully took the notebook with a smile, before shaking his head. "It's my fault for dropping it in such a place. I'm glad I found it quickly, though—the words in here are my lifeline."

"Do you write for a living?"

Woobin shrugged. "It's not a stable way of earning money, but I do enjoy it."

From the tone of his voice, I could tell he wasn't lying. Out of courtesy, I told him my name, as well, and to get out of the cold, we decided to enter a café nearby. It was sly of me, but I wanted to escape from reality, and I somehow used Woobin's company as an alibi. Having coffee with a complete stranger wasn't my forte, but so does confronting the things I don't want to face just yet.

The conversation flowed easily between us, and I learned that he was older than me by five years. He apparently graduated with a degree in Information Technology, and though he never did like it, he was still able to have a secure job because of it. He said working at home was convenient, as well. When I told him I was taking Photography as a major, his eyes sparkled, and he proceeded to ask, "Do you collaborate with others?"

Woobin set his empty mug aside, and leaned forward, arms crossed on the table, stare not wavering. "I mean," he carried on. "Do you know that author, pleasefindthis?"

The name sounded familiar, and I realized Myungsoo mentioned him to me once, saying the format of his blog entries was inspired by that person.

I nodded.

"I'd like to publish a book in that kind of concept, but I suck at taking pictures. If the opportunity ever comes up, may I call you?"

"You have to look through my portfolio first," I said. "To be sure you'd like my style."

Woobin grinned. "That would be really helpful. Would I be able to look through it now?"

I was taken aback by his eagerness, but at the same time, I couldn't help but be amazed, as well. He was straightforward, despite the fact that we only met recently.

"Actually, yes," I rummaged my bag, and took out the paperback I bought from the charity shop in our neighborhood first, before pulling my tablet out. "I actually keep mine online."