JIN
I'm a liar. A pretender. I pretend to not be bothered. I pretend to not know or see or feel. I pretend I am okay. I pretend I am confident. Secure. When in fact, I am a mess.
This is all I ever did. I built this perfect mask and hid all my broken, rotten self behind it.
I made it so strong, so faultless, that sometimes I am not sure whether the mask became part of me. Like a second layer of skin. Maybe I am not the one wearing the mask, but the mask is wearing me. Patched me up, keeping me together.
I'm a fucking liar. And today I lied again. I went to the airport to see someone and tell her how I feel. That I am sad. Betrayed too, maybe. And that I will most certainly miss her. Instead, I said goodbye. I watched her go. And now I am back in my lonely world again.
I was in the practice room, going over the old choreographies one more time, when I found out. Namjoon called to announce to me that he's not gonna stop by the studio as we initially agreed, as he has to pick up Inna from Mirae's house first and take her home. That she was a bit of an emotional mess now that her best friend is gone. Obviously, Mirae's name immediately clung to my ears, and I found myself asking further questions. And this is how I found out she is moving out of the country.
Namjoon was shocked to find out I was not aware of this. Whatever he thought happened between me and Mirae, especially after that kiss a couple weeks ago, he was certain it was serious enough for me to know about her departure. Apparently, it wasn't as big as he expected because she never told me anything of that. She said nothing at all.
I don't know how I left the building and jumped into my car. I don't remember my trip there. Everything was a blur, it happened so fast, my thoughts rushing at full speed. I felt so betrayed at that moment, so left out. So hurt. And the funny thing is that I don't know why I was feeling everything with so much intensity. When I reached the airport, I literally flew out of the car. I only had time to grab my cap, a disposable face mask and her umbrella, which were all resting on the passenger seat.
When I walked in there, seeing so many people leaving and saying goodbye, I got weak, emotional. I was angry and hurt and the thought of not seeing her again for a very long time or maybe...never, clawed at my chest. I was full of emotions and I dropped that perfect disguise for a second and I was so sure I could do well without it. I wanted to question her, to ask her to explain why she's leaving and why she hid this from me. Why didn't she think I was important enough to know about this? Why did she make me look like a fool in front of my friends? And most importantly, I wanted to make her stay. I have no clue how I could do that, but...yes, fuck it! I wanted her to stay.
But the moment I spotted her and ran to her, the moment I called her name and she looked straight into my eyes, I felt so naked, so vulnerable. I couldn't bear it.
I couldn't admit to her that I knew beforehand that she was leaving. That I found out and I was pissed. At her for not telling me and for leaving like that. At my friends for not letting me know me sooner and keeping this from me, although Inna already warned me she won't get involved. At myself, for thinking I could beat time. For thinking that I have enough of it. So I built that wall again, brick by brick. That nonchalant, carefree mask...I wore it once more.
Because of my stupid pride, I didn't tell her I went there today to see her. One last time. I went there for her and she will never know the truth. I made it look like a stupid coincidence. I fed her a lie that she bought. Or at least I hope she did. Because the alternative would be her seeing right through me and pitying me for the pathetic man that I am.
Now she's gone and with her, all the things left unmade. All the words, left unspoken. All the feelings, unfelt. She is gone and all I have left of her is the memory of a kiss and an umbrella.
I stare at the small object, a folding umbrella with one of Van Gogh's famous paintings imprinted on it. I remember clutching it behind my back until my fingers hurt, as I was wishing her all the best in her new career. I kill the engine of my car and linger a second.
Back to her house, days ago, she was right. I never asked her things about herself. I don't know what her favorite food is or if she prefers wine, rather than beer. Although she looks like the kind to like both equally. I don't know what she listens to or if she has other passions besides painting. I have fucking no idea what scares her or makes her happy. Her dreams. Her aspirations. Her faults. I don't really know that much about her.
I knew her for how long? Three years? We didn't get to hang out too often but fuck, three years is a long time. I kept throwing flirtatious words at her everytime I had the chance and expected her to do what? Fall head over heels for me? I didn't even make an effort to get to know her. The real Park Mirae. The one who is not a journalist. The one who is not Inna's best friend or Jiwoo's sister.
And like the idiot I am, now I'll never have the chance to do all these things. I was such a fool. I thought I had all the time in the world to get to know her. But time is not my ally. It isn't working in my favour. Good things like that don't happen to me anymore. I used all my luck when I met my bandmates. Every drop of it. I can't hope for more now, even though I wish.
I shake my head and let these thoughts go. I climb out, closing the door of my car and slamming it harder than I intended. I walk lazily, carrying the umbrella in one hand, the keys of my car in the other. Did I lock it? Can't remember but who the fuck cares, anyway? No one besides celebrities comes to this place. I decided to crash at my apartment today, the one I bought after we made it big. When I could afford it. All seven of us own houses and we all started living separately even before joining the military. That's because most of my bandmates are in serious relationships and they were eager to be with their pairs all the time. Also, they needed privacy. So no one really stopped by the dorms anymore. Except for Hoseok and Jimin, the latter when he wasn't going out with random girls. At least he had the decency to take them to bed in his own apartment, and not in our shared space. These days we're trying to spend more time at the dorms to catch up after being apart for so long. But tonight I don't feel like being around people anymore. That's why I am now entering my own house. It's empty, deserted. Like myself.
I remove my shoes, letting them drop out of my feet in a mess, then head straight to the bedroom. It's dark and I don't bother turning on the lights. My bedroom is naturally illuminated by moonlight. Instead, I drop the umbrella somewhere on a cabinet, along with my car keys. With one last glance at it, I turn away and start undressing myself. I remove my t-shirt and let my pants and underwear drop on the floor. Naked, I walk lazily to the shower, starting the water in advance. As the steam rises in the room, I go to the sink and open a drawer underneath, fishing a clean towel. My plan tonight is to shower and drop dead in bed. It has been a long, shitty day and all I want is to sleep for a long time. As I move to close back the drawer, I spot my reflection and halt. I clean the mirror of steam and stare. This is also me. Weak and pathetic. Easily scared. Coward. Afraid of my own feelings. Lost. Not enough. Insecure. Bad at love. Bad at dancing. Bad at singing. Mediocre. I am only good at being rich and being fake. So I am gonna be fake some more. I look at the raw, real me and decide it's time to wear my mask again. I step inside the shower and let the hot water fall over me, burning my weaknesses.
When I'd emerge from it, I'd be the same cocky, funny, successful man. How the world sees me. How the world knows me. Everything I ever showed them.
It would be nice if someone saw behind this disguise and not be disgusted by the real me and my flaws. If they took this mask, grab it with both hands and pull it aside. If what would be revealed won't scare them away. I imagine someone who won't feel repulsion like they found an infected, untreated wound. I hoped that someone would have big brown eyes, fiery brown hair and sweet lips. But that someone is no longer a possibility.
"Suck it up, Seokjin. Stop thinking about foolish things. You just had a rough day." I say to myself, running a hand over my face to remove the excess of water falling down on me. The truth is, all days are rough. I'll just add it to my list of many and just go back to my usual stuff. Nothing I can't handle. I don't know how much time I spend in the shower, most of it spent thinking, not cleaning. But when I finally get out of it, I feel so tired, like my bones are made of jelly. I fall onto my bed naked and with water still clinging to my skin, and fall asleep faster than I can process it. I dream of a big city and a lovely girl I'll never have.
MIRAE
"Excuse me!" I say, trying to sneak through a group of people waiting in front of the arrival gates. "Hi, I'm sorry! Thank you!" My trolley is heavy and huge, two big suitcases, a smaller one and a shoulder bag. I am sweaty and tired from pushing it around the airport, and I spent way too much time at the security check than I would've liked. It's around mid-day here in the United States and the JFK airport is swarming with people. One of the biggest airports in the world. No joke in that! This place is huge and crowded as hell. I can already spot american brands and shops around, but somehow it still doesn't feel real. Foreign. Maybe because this is just the airport. All airports look the same to me. I'm looking around, trying to find the person who is supposed to come pick me up. Gina said it will be someone from the company staff, holding a sign with my name on it. She didn't mention whether it was a male or female so my eyes are wandering around, not knowing who I will find. Obviously, there are dozens of people holding signs and I am feeling like a lost puppy in the woods.
"Sarah", "Mr. Russel", "Welcome home, dad", ''Joanna". I read every sign, but I don't see my name. I start pushing my trolley, walking slowly and reading everything to not miss my sign. I thought being asian would make it easier for people to recognize me, but stupid me! There are as many Asians in this airport as there are westerners. Eventually, after five long minutes of searching, I see someone approaching me, with a sign saying "Mirae Park". I breathe in relief and hurry to the blonde woman who's waving at me.
"Hello and welcome to New York, Miss Park!" she says cheerfully. She is young, probably a good few years younger than me. She must be one of the fresh employees or an intern, judging by her age and that youthful excitement. I smile back at her and step aside from my huge luggage cart to shake her hand.
"Thank you! It's good to see you..." I say, not sure how to address her.
"Oh, my name is Mia Styles. I am working for the HR department and I'm here to pick you up." she replies, shaking back my hand. "Let me help you with that," she adds, taking one of my big suitcases and the smaller one, while the big one that's left and the shoulder bag remain with me. I get rid of the luggage cart and follow her out of the airport, towards her car. She tries to make small talk with me, but we're both pretty awkward around each other.
"How was your flight? For such a long distance, it must've been uncomfortable."
"Oh, you have no idea!" I answer, nothing far from the truth. My flight was 14 hours and I spent much longer in the plane than that, if you count the waiting rooms and the time before departure. But I couldn't close my eyes at all. I was restless, nervous, anxious and that also ruined my stomach. I think I spent more time in the bathroom than in my seat. I went so often to the point that I was afraid the staff might find it suspicious and ask to be arrested for terrorism or something. And the unplanned meeting I had with Seokjin at the airport didn't help my mental shape either. He managed to destroy my inner balance and I was a mess because of that during this flight. All I could see in my head was his disappointed eyes when he found out I was leaving. That led to more memories, like that time in the conservatory when he almost kissed me or even more back in the past when he tried again to kiss me and succeeded. It took me a lot of time and many movies to get rid of the thoughts of him in my head. And now I am thinking about him again. Great!
"I don't know how the seats are in Korean Air's planes, but the american ones aren't very comfortable. I used to hate to-" Mia says, but I can't follow her blabbering about her flying experiences. I am way too tired. The last two weeks passed in the blink of an eye and I had so many things to prepare for this move out, that in all honesty, I have no clue how I managed to pull it all together and be ready. It feels almost surreal that I am here now.
We walk for a while, sometimes stopping to rest our hands a bit, before we walk again. The bags are hard and although I said I don't want to pack much because I will buy anything I need from here, I ended up with these huge and heavy suitcases, nonetheless. Once we found her car, an older, red Ford, and disposed of our suitcases in the back, we climbed in and headed to the city. For a long while, I can't see much. It's only bridges and tunnels and night traffic, but forty minutes later the big metropol comes into view, with its breathtaking skyscrapers. It's a magnificent view, something I never had the chance to see in my home city or any city I lived in. Seoul has a few tall buildings, yes. London as well, but this...I am speechless. I let down my window and let wind ruffle my hair as I stare at the enormous buildings approaching. Now it feels real. Now it hit me. Where I arrived and how far from home I am. The skyscrapers look beautiful from afar, as if they could reach the sky, the stars. Some probably do. But the moment you enter the city and you are finding yourself at the base of them, surrounded by concrete and windows and billboards, they make you feel small. I am small. I am way too small and I wonder if I can make it. If everything I said and thought about me, of being strong and capable is real. If my determination and wits will be enough to survive here.
It takes twenty more minutes to get to West Midtown Manhattan, where my apartment is. By the time we arrive, it is already past midnight and although Mia suggested she should help me order something to eat, I refuse her politely. She doesn't insist on it and I am grateful. She helps me with the bags instead and gets me installed in my new place. It isn't much work to do as the studio I rented is almost empty anyway. Mia...I believe she is the one who met the landlord for me and picked up the key, so I won't have to waste more time with that tonight.
I leave all the suitcases at the entrance and say my goodbyes to Mia, after I assure her five times that I will be okay on my own and if I need anything, I will give her a call. As soon as she leaves, I lock the door and start exploring my new place a little bit. Aside from the kitchen which thankfully is fully equipped, thanks to the good will of the previous tenants, and the small couch in the middle of the main room, the space is empty. I will have to buy everything, from bedsheets and pillows to wardrobes and a bed. I really need a bed here. This couch is way too small to sleep comfortably. However, I am lucky enough to have put my hands on a double studio, which means there is a smaller area, separated from the living room by a wall where I could fit a bed. Thus, I can have a bedroom, and a living room as well, where I can keep the couch. With these plans in my mind, I walk to the windows. Big, tall, windows, starting from the ceiling and stopping on the floor. And the view from here is breathtaking. I'm on the 15th floor, thankfully I don't live in a skyscraper, but this building is pretty tall too. Tall enough to give me this amazing view. Millions of lights are sparkling in the city at my feet and it's so quiet up here. Yes, the city it's still alive, even in the dead of the night, but here, at this height, nothing but wind breaks through.
This is crazy. How my life turned out to be. How fast I changed a city for another, leaving everything I knew behind and starting over new. I wonder if this is how Inna felt when she first landed in Seoul. Was she scared? Was she impatient? Lost? Because I feel all these things at the moment. Following your dreams is never easy. You don't even have the certainty you'll accomplish them. You can only walk on the path you chose and hope for the best. I check my wristwatch. I am 13 hours behind Seoul. That means, here is the previous day. That means, somehow, I turned back time. Would I do things differently? Probably not. But I feel like I have a superpower of some sort. To mold time. I snort at that. This is foolish. Maybe my brain is fried from too much being awake. I decide to rest for a bit and then go outside, see what shopping I can do for the house when I wake up. Explore a little bit. The moment I sit on the couch, I pass out immediately, in the same clothes I have been wearing for almost 24 hours.
***
I wake up to the sound of a loud knock on the door. It takes me a while to process what is happening and where I am. New York. I'm in my small apartment in New York City.
I raise my head and look over the couch, in the direction of the door. My neck is stiff and the skin on my arms is ice cold. I slept without a blanket on and now I can feel the cold settle in my bones. The knocking never ceases so I struggle to get up, limping all the way to the door and cracking my neck to bring some feeling into it. I also slept without a pillow.
"Ughh," I groan as I reach the door, looking through the peephole. I see an older man, probably around my father's age, standing in front of my door, with his hands behind his back. He doesn't look dangerous, but he isn't pleased either. I don't know this man. I just moved here and someone already visits me? I'm feeling a bit creeped out and I jump out of my skin when he knocks again. Shit! What do I do?
"Who is it?" I ask through the closed door.
"The landlord." he says flatly, but then he realizes I might not trust him so he hurries to give me assurance. "Miss Park, I brought you the contract. Could you please open the door for a second?" I decided it can't be a killer. He knows my name and I don't remember having enemies, especially not in the US. I unlock the door and open it slowly, watching the man through the crack.
"Hello! I hope I didn't scare you. I have your papers here," the old landlord says, handing me a small document folder.
"Oh, no. It's alright. I was a bit confused as I was in deep sleep," I laugh, scratching my head. My hair is a mess, I can feel its tangles through my fingers. "One of my coworkers already picked up the key for me. Is there anything else left to do or sign?" I ask, closing one eye to see the man in front of me better. Too much light in the hallway. It must be noon already.
"I see. I only want to show you where the laundry room is and explain a bit how things are working in this building, then you can carry on with your...plans." he says, visibly uncomfortable. I mean, I can understand him. He is the owner of this building and with every new tenant, he has to give them a tour of the building and let them know about the rules, if there are some. But I feel like everything is moving too fast for me to keep up and the fact that I was pulled out of my sleep makes it even worse to handle.
"Okay. Uhmmm... Can you give me a minute to get ready? I need to get my shoes and-"
"Of course. I actually have to give a phone call anyway. I'll be at the elevators." he says and already walks away, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the agenda. He has a slight limp on his left leg, probably an older wound healed badly or just the age pains. But he seems to be a nice person. As nice as a landlord can be. I hurry back in the apartment and grab my sneakers, trying to find my phone. I find it fallen under the couch and...dead. I forgot to charge it last night and, honestly, I was too tired to even think about this anyway. Grabbing my shoulder bag, I start rummaging through it for the charger and I get frustrated when I don't find it on the first try. I take the bag and spill everything on the couch. In the sea of documents, make-up, half eaten cereal bars and empty wraps, I find the charger. The moment I connect my phone to it, I am assaulted by a hoard of noises as dozens of messages appear on the screen, one by one. Mostly, they are from my family and Inna. I have a few others from Mia, my boss Gina and random notifications from the phone service provider. And that's it. I don't know what I was expecting to see or why my hopes were so high up. Or maybe I already know, but I am too scared to admit it.
I decide to leave my phone in the room to charge and come back after it when my building tour is done. I need to remember to call my family and let them know I accomodated myself in the new apartment and I am alright. I rush out of the apartment, making sure my door is safely locked behind me before I head to the elevators where my old landlord awaits.
***
The good thing about this apartment is that the building has a huge laundry room in the basement, with enough washing machines and dryers to not lose a day in queues. It would have been more convenient to have a washing machine installed in the apartment, but...hey, at least I don't have to cross the city for a laundromat. The tenants, my landlord said, are of all ages. Most of them are in their thirties, working for the big companies in Manhattan. Just like me, they looked for a place as close as they could get to their work. But there are also families with kids and cranky old ladies, like everywhere. As long as I mind my own business, I shouldn't be bothered by them. But the most interesting thing that I saw today was the rooftop. The building actually has an amazing view, tall enough to see the whole city. The landlord specifically warned me that although we are allowed to go there for a breath of fresh air if we want to, he doesn't give access to his tenants to use the rooftop for other purposes like doing a barbeque or throwing parties. Which is fine by me. Considering I don't know anyone in this city, even if I wanted to, I couldn't throw a party. I know I will use that place a lot and take many breaths of fresh air there.
As soon as the owner listed all the rules regarding using this building, I was free to return to my apartment and finally start my day. I had so much to buy for the apartment and so many things to do before my first day of work, which is in two days, that I almost panicked. And instead of doing what I had to do, I spent two hours scrolling through social media and eating a pizza from the corner of the street. I believe I am a masochist, because it looks like I love pain. Otherwise I don't understand why I wasted my time reading the latest news about BTS, looking for someone in particular. Little did I know that this would become a bad habit of mine. To always look for him.
I tried to keep my mind occupied with other things, a success, I'd say, considering that I shopped for hours in search of everything I needed for the studio. I wanted to make it cozy. I wanted to make it mine, warm, welcoming. To not feel so alone in it. I picked my bedsheets and pillows, some things for the kitchen, and the furniture which I arranged to be delivered at the apartment. Which brings me to the present, where I am struggling to put together the bed I just bought. I never thought setting up furniture could be so...demanding. All my muscles hurt and I am sweating like a pig from carrying the mattress and fitting it on the bed frame. I'm far from being done. A wardrobe, a desk and a lamppost are patiently waiting for their turn.
I let out a long breath and sat on the new mattress, staring out the window. The night has fallen again over Manhattan and just like yesterday, it leaves me in awe at how beautiful the view is. The stars are right up there, above the city, but I can't see them shining. Too much artificial light. This leaves the impression that I'm already living among them.
Did I make the right decision by coming here? It's a question that has been creeping in my brain since the moment I stepped into that plane.
We make choices in life and sometimes, choices make us. I am praying that my choice will allow me to become. Anyone. Anything. That it will build me and grind me, and make me a better version of myself. I can't let fear take over me now. Fear will only hold me back. I don't have the luxury of that. I have made this choice not because I wanted fame or more money. These come second. Neither because I am too focused on my career and ignore my emotional side. No, I wanted to prove something. To society and to all those who doubted me. To myself. I am not doing this because I lack emotional focus, but rather, out of too much of it. I am in need of self-validation, in search of self-worth. It has been an unrelentable quest and my journey isn't over yet.
I have a will of steel and I'm overspilling with determination. These are good qualities in my eyes. I can't be a pussy now. I chose this. So I have to grit my teeth, dig my heels deep in the ground and jump to those stars.
With that in mind, I sit up from the mattress and go to pick up the next object I will install tonight. The wardrobe. It will take a while, it will make me tired, especially with the timezone difference that I still need to get used to, but it will be done. The night is still young and there isn't anything else I can do to kill my time. I'm on my own. And that should be enough.
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Aaaand, life goes on. Our dear characters are split, each one of them in a different city, different country. But for how long?
I can't promise you anything about the next chapter, although I will try to post it faster. I have a problem with my right hand and I can barely use it :( I'm keeping it wrapped and trying to not force it or use it much, until it starts getting better. Thank you all for reading this story and for your support. <3
Love you,
Inna