Chapter Twenty-Six: The Engagement Party
He stared at himself in the mirror and adjusted his jacket for about the fifth time. He knew it looked fine, he knew he should head downstairs, that it was past seven and that, as the younger brother of the to-be bride, he should be beside her kissing his aunts on the cheek. They would wonder where he was, he was sure of it. He imagined them freezing up, hands grasping the air instead of his upper arms, their lips wondering where to land if not for his cheeks, their blinking eyes feigning confusion. It would be cruel to put them in such a position, but his feet seemed glued to this very spot, in front of the mirror, and again he adjusted his jacket, his tie, his hair and his father's necklace. He then shrugged, snapping out of it and, before exiting the safety of his bedroom, grabbed his camera from his bedside table.
He already felt worn out for today, what with all the hectic preparations that had been going on since the crack of dawn; people running around, cooking, baking, picking up the flowers, cleaning the house from top to bottom, setting everything up, all the glasses and the plates, making sure there was enough seating and that everything was in its place. As Jeongguk looked down from the top of the stairs, he allowed himself to feel proud of the foyer, as there he had spent the majority of his day. Not a single piece of fluff was to be seen that wasn't supposed to be there and the shrine he had put up with photographs of Jeongyeon and Namjoon among with a guest book looked positively splendid.
Looking at it, he had to take a deep breath in, to prepare himself. The house was packed. The home, which usually was occupied with three people only (although often more than that, due to his mother's love for guests), now swarmed with people; some he knew, such as Jeongyeon's family and friends, but others, those who were apart of Namjoon's social circle, he didn't. The closet had been emptied so that the guests could hang up their overcoats and jackets – not that anyone in their right mind would dress that way in the pounding heat outside as summer bid its hello – nevertheless it was full (of mostly shawls and bags).
As he walked down the stairs, trying his best to take pictures, although it was challenging, the smell of grilled meat and baked goods surrounded him and he realised, as his stomach growled, that he was hungry. He had not eaten anything today. His mouth watered at the thought of the breadbaskets, the dumplings, the cakes and mochi that were just waiting to be eaten.
With his eye through the viewfinder, he focused on the middle of the room, where white flowers stood tall in a clear vase: roses and another type of flower that resembled pompoms. Scattered around were gifts of various sizes, despite the fact the couple had insisted none were necessary. He looked at the picture and tutted, it was too hectic. There were so many people it was hard to find symmetry, something steady for the eye to look at.
He walked down a few steps and stopped. On the other side of the room, near the entrance, stood Jeongyeon and Namjoon, welcoming in the guests. Jeongyeon was wearing a clean-cut, off the shoulder, black dress. She had on a silver necklace. Namjoon was wearing a beige sweater and tailored pants – and he looked perfectly scholarly. Jeongguk, without them noticing, snapped a picture of them, making sure to zoom in enough so that only them and the person, a friend of theirs from university, was visible. It achieved the desired effect. The photograph looked more intimate, the ambience between the three friends was warm, almost glowing.
He kept going, as he descended the stairs, trying to capture small moments in time, feeling as if he were a collector of memories. The best ones were of those who didn't notice him. Often, he managed to be sneaky, but sometimes, someone noticed him, usually a child, and then, the bright smile, the refined touch of their appearance, which in turn removed the authenticity of the photo. Sometimes it worked and made it seem as though the subject was having a direct conversation with the audience, but that didn't happen very often, especially not when taking photos of normal people, relatives. People who weren't used to the heavy gaze of a lens.
It didn't take long for him to get noticed when he finally made it down to the bottom of the stairs. A flock of relatives turned his way, asking him the various questions he had grown used to over the years, about school, whether he still danced, about university, or future plans. This time, however, a lot of them looked at the camera and, if they were relatives from his father's side, said something about his father, how he had never been seen without a camera, and how well it suited him, how much he looked like his father, really the resemblance was remarkable.
After finally managing to break free of the questions, he was about to head towards his sister, when he saw a small girl of about six run up to him at full force, his niece Ara.
"Gukkie!" she screamed and clasped her hands around his waist, jumping excitedly. She looked up at him and Jeongguk reached down, put his hands under her arms and picked her up.
"Hi cutie," he said. "You're so big!"
"I know," she said. "I've grown."
"You have," he said, adjusting her in his arms. She was the littlest relative in the family, the daughter of the daughter of his father's sister. It was odd to think that his cousin, who was just a bit older than Jeongyeon, already had such a big girl. That meant that she'd been just a little older than he was now when she had her.
Suddenly, she started bouncing in his arms and Jeongguk put her down. As soon as her feet hit the floor she stretched her arms out, reaching with greedy hands towards Jeongguk's camera.
"Hey be careful," Jeongguk said gently and pulled the camera up over his head and placed it on her neck. "Here, try it. But you gotta give it back, mkay?"
His niece nodded and turned around. She held the camera up to her eye and directed it straight in the direction of – Jeongguk froze – Taehyung.
There goes my plan of ignoring him.
Taehyung, who had probably been watching him without his knowing, was now caught off guard to have a lens fixated so steadily on him, even if the person behind the lens was as threatening as a flower. But – ever the natural in front of a camera – he adjusted, and gave the little girl his best smile.
"You are very pretty," Ara said after she took the photo.
Taehyung smiled. "Thank you. So are you. Only prettier."
Ara blushed, seemingly shy and started fiddling with the hem of Jeongguk's jacket. Taehyung shifted his weight on to his toes and bit his lip, about to say something, and Jeongguk looked down at his niece and pointed to the camera, kindly.
"Alright Ara," he said. "You have to give it back now."
"Aww." She pouted.
He stroked her head. "Mmm, if I don't keep taking photos, Jeongyeon won't have any to show to her children later on."
Ara nodded gravely. Clearly, she understood the importance of his job.
"Alright, off you go."
She turned and ran away. As she was half-way across the room, she suddenly stopped, as if reminded of something, and turned around on the spot and waved at him. Then she continued all the way up into her mother's lap.
"Hey."
He was still standing there, with expectant eyes.
"Hi," Jeongguk said.
And walked away.
***
The next hours passed in a blur, people ate, drank, danced, laughed and Jeongguk took photos of them. He was thankful for the camera, it made him feel like he played an outer role in the party. He didn't necessarily need to be in it, not in the same way as all the guests. He could get out of conversations with the excuse that he needed to take photos. Essentially, it was a shield, and he was grateful for it.
He was sitting on one of the couches, a half-eaten plate of food on the table next to him, alternating between taking some photos and taking a bite. Almost everyone who had been on the guest-list had made it. Except for Seokjin, of course, which was a little ironic. All their efforts of trying to get him there, for nothing. Or perhaps not nothing – technically their plan had managed to mend an old friendship, but that was irrelevant. He had to be in Busan right now, because of something to do with work.
Taehyung's parents were there. The both of them. They stood at opposite ends of the room, talking to entirely different groups of people. Mr Kim was surrounded by men wearing tuxedos, some of the uncles of the family, while Taehyung's mother had her own little fan-club of fashionable women, presumably discussing, well, fashion. Taehyung was in the latter group, sitting silently with a glass of iced tea.
Taehyung didn't talk about his parents much. He knew Taehyung liked his mother better but had a hard time forgiving her for abandoning him when she left him with his father to go back to Daegu, although he never showed it. His father was so career-driven, he paid little attention to Taehyung and Namjoon, so they could do pretty much whatever they wanted. His mother had been the one to raise them, back in Daegu. That didn't mean she had been a very giving mother, that she had given them all the attention they had needed. She too had a great career, that craved much attention.
Jeongguk couldn't help but wonder how he was feeling. How it was, having them both there. He could imagine a lot of old hurt gnawing its way to the surface.
Just like what was happening to him. Because of Taehyung. Because of what he had done, or better yet because of what he hadn't done. Why was he concerning himself with his feelings? He was meant to be angry with him. He was angry with him.
He shook his head as if trying to shake out his thoughts.
"Parties not your thing?"
He looked to his right. Namjoon was sitting down next to him, holding a glass of champagne, with his legs crossed, giving him an observant look.
"Sure," Jeongguk said. "Just not these kinds."
"Engagements?"
"Relatives."
"I see."
A moment of silence, while Namjoon took a sip of his champagne.
"Well ... you have a very nice family Jeongguk. You should consider yourself lucky."
"I guess." Jeongguk shrugged. "I just get bored sometimes of talking about my future."
Namjoon smiled. "Ah right. The age-old question everybody asks young people."
Jeongguk hummed and grabbed a grape from his plate and popped it into his mouth. "But you're right," he then said. "I like my family."
On the other side of the room, he saw his mother and sister, as they stood by the buffet-table, deep in conversation about something very important – probably something related to the party, perhaps they were missing a plate, or people liked a certain kind of food a little more than they were anticipating, and so there wasn't quite enough. A trivial matter, really, but important to them. He put his camera to his eye and took a photo of them, smiling to himself. The passion, the look of slight worry in their eyes, combined with the general happiness of the day, and the perfection of their outfits and the background, produced a comical effect. Jeongyeon trying to drive home her point that there was something wrong, his mother trying to console her, telling her no, they had quite enough, in fact, there was more food in the kitchen, or she could very easily get a plate from one of the cupboards. Then a smile, as Jeongyeon realised, her mother was probably right.
Jeongyeon turned, as a young man walked into frame, in a black suit jacket, over a white shirt, that wasn't buttoned all the way up, a gold ring on one of his fingers, and an air of confidence so strong Jeongguk could see before his very eyes how it affected the would-be photograph, that he refused to take. His dashing smile, luscious hair, soft lips. Jeongguk put his camera down and turned to Namjoon. "I am also glad that you are joining the family."
Namjoon, who had been watching him, smiled knowingly, without knowing. "And Taehyung?"
Jeongguk forced a smile. "Yeah."
In the silence that ensued, Jeongguk happened to look upon the room again, happened to see Taehyung, as he stood next to his sister looking at him intently, happened to notice him walk forward, towards him.
Jeongguk stood up. "I'm thirsty," he said. "I'm going to grab a lemonade from the kitchen."
"Okay," Namjoon said. "See ya," he then added, in English.
"Good-bye," Jeongguk replied, also in English.
***
When he walked back out of the kitchen, a flask of pink in his hand, in the foyer he was met with a boy of his height and his age, in other words, his good friend Taehyung.
"Jeongguk," he said.
Nowhere to escape. Taehyung was standing between him and the front door. When he tried to head in the direction of the stairs, he moved in front of him. When he tried turning around, thinking he could go back through the kitchen and into the garden, Taehyung spoke again.
"Jeongguk."
Jeongguk placed his lemonade on a nearby table and turned back around. He said nothing.
"So that's it? We're not even going to speak to each other?"
Jeongguk crossed his arms. "I have nothing to say to you."
"Are you not even going to give me a chance to explain?"
"Not this time."
He always got an explanation. Every single time, he got an explanation. And every time he forgave him. He wasn't going to forgive him this time.
"Jeongguk, you're being unfair. You don't even know what happened. You don't know Mina's side."
"I literally do not give a shit about Mina."
Taehyung froze, but only for a small moment. "Have you talked to Jimin?" he then said.
"What do you mean?"
"Today?"
He hadn't. With the show tomorrow, Jimin had no time for anything except for rehearsing and eating. He technically hadn't talked to him since their conversation yesterday. But that didn't matter. Jimin would have told him if there was anything important he needed to know.
"Jimin told me exactly what she did. I know she took the photo."
"Well that's not exactly–"
Taehyung silenced as Jeongguk suddenly walked forward, towards him, not stopping until he was right in front of him. They were close. He couldn't sense the same anger in Taehyung that he felt within himself, the wave of deep-rooted anger bubbling up in his chest and as he stared at him, his eyes burning through his body like a laser, his eyes cold, yet on fire at the same time, he saw that Taehyung, well, he seemed more sad than angry.
But somehow that just angered Jeongguk even more.
"Your friend got outed and you're still dating the person who was responsible for it. Instead of being there by his side when he really fucking needed it, you ... where were you? Huh? Were you trying to, what, give him space? Is that it? Is that your excuse? Real noble of you Taehyung. Real fucking noble."
"It's not like I didn't try." He stood still, seemingly unbothered by Jeongguk's presence. His closeness. "You wouldn't even let me go near him."
Jeongguk inhaled. He wanted to punch something. He was so frustrated, so angry, had too much energy and nowhere to put it. He backed away from Taehyung trying to contain himself, but only to return as if a magnetic force was pulling him back and he grabbed a hold of Taehyung's suit-jacket, looked him dead in the eyes as if trying to will bullets to shoot through his own and into Taehyung's.
"You chose her," he said. Then he pulled him closer, speaking to him in a low voice, their faces only inches apart. "So everything you try to say or do is irrelevant. I don't want to hear any more of your sad excuses. Just stay the fuck away from me."
Taehyung gulped. His eyes drifted down to Jeongguk's lips, then back to his eyes, then away from his eyes, because he couldn't meet them.
"What's going on?"
The two of them turned their heads towards the doorway, where Namjoon stood, not knowing quite what to do with himself.
"Nothing," Jeongguk said and let Taehyung go. He showed no resistance as he pushed past him and placed his camera on the middle-table withs the flowers. He then looked at Namjoon, who said nothing, taking in the scene.
"Someone else has to take the photos for a bit," he said. His voice was soar, even though he hadn't even been yelling.
"Where are you going?"
Behind him, a wanting voice. Taehyung.
"Out. I need some air."
He left Namjoon standing, dumbfounded, in the doorway, Taehyung, he didn't know how he left him, he didn't look. He simply opened the front door and stumbled into the open air, couldn't get away fast enough.
The sky was a stroke of colours, a darkened blue, mixed with purple and a soft pink, the last remnants of the waking sun. It was still warm out, but not unbearably so. Above him, hung a lamp-light, casting a soft glow out on the porch, a glimmer of day in the soft night.
Jeongguk liked the dark, liked its secrets.
He hurried from the house, down the path, plants lined up on either side, neat, orderly. Jeongguk always found it weird to see flowers in the dark. He always imagined them to be sleeping. He inhaled. His mind was a fog of anger that couldn't get out. He exhaled. He just needed to relax, needed to be alone for a moment, needed some time to calm down, gather himself.
"Jeongguk. Wait."
A hand on his shoulder, turning him around. Taehyung had followed him.
He had a firm but gentle grip on his upper arms as if he were afraid he would disintegrate into dust before his very eyes. It was now Jeongguk's turn to avoid his eyes, the ones that settled so steady on him, the ones that now sought to meet his.
"Please," he said, still holding him. "Don't do this."
Jeongguk was stiff under his touch, but he didn't move away. Somehow, it gathered too much effort to break loose. Instead, he finally looked at Taehyung.
He looked shattered. He resembled a vase, flowers lying on the ground in between water and broken porcelain. Fragile. No longer the elegant creature, with its soft alluring voice, but confused, desperate, sad.
"I told you to stay away from me," Jeongguk said, but his voice wasn't as sharp as it had been when inside. He was tired. He felt empty. The anger that had clouded his mind moments before, seemed to be washing away.
"Please, just let me explain."
Jeongguk broke away from his grasp and, reluctant, Taehyung let him go, his hands falling down to his sides.
"No," he said. "I am ... I am ..." The words drowned in his throat.
"You're what?" Taehyung pressed.
Jeongguk pursed his lips. He whispered because the words were too strong to say them louder than that, "I am sick of you."
It seemed to dawn on him then. His face fell, his eyes shifted and Jeongguk could almost hear the pounding of his heart as it started to break. Suddenly, the proximity was too much to bear, Taehyung's sadness, his lack of words, his sad eyes, just looking, thinking, so incredibly guilty, so seemingly desperate.
Taehyung was untouched by the world, always got his way. He was sick of it. He was sick of feeling used. Sick of this hurt that Taehyung was feeling right now, because what about his own hurt, what about his pain? Jeongguk wanted to walk away. But he couldn't. He had opened up a wound, and like blood, his words started to spill.
"For the past two years, you have treated me like shit. You have ignored me, you have pushed me away, prioritised other things, other people. I just ... I just thought that this time. You might have ..."
You might have picked me.
"You might have stood by your friend. Jimin was outed, Tae. And you did nothing.
You chose to stick with her. And you've always done that. You've always treated me like I was your second best ... you know what ... maybe fifth best, or I don't even know where I stand! But I am just done ... I am done being your doormat."
Taehyung was quiet and completely still. His eyes were heavy, and he blinked, parted his lips and – after a silence that felt like infinite seconds compressed together into a moment of eternity – he spoke, without a hint of sharpness to his voice, but smooth with fatigue and guilt. "So you've given up on me?"
Jeongguk stilled. It was like the heaviness in his chest completely evaporated, like the anger he had been holding onto disappeared, replaced with shock and hurt that was clawing its way into his heart again, banging through the locked doors, yelling, let us in, let us in, did you think we were gone? His eyes were too sad, too familiar, too soft. It hurt to look at them. The deep brown was like an enchantment, a siren trying to lure in innocent sailors with its soothing, celestial voice which echoed through the undersea. Happy memories of the times when he had felt on top of the world emerged, when he had a friend whom he was closer to than anyone else; he remembered the sleep-overs, forgotten homework and teary-eyed laughter. But with them came the dark memories, the confusion, the hurt and the self-doubt that took him by the shoulders and shook him, taunted him.
And all the words surfaced at once in his eyes and as he tried to hold them back he said, at last, battling through the pain. "I am done wasting my breath on you."
And without sparing him another glance, without even giving him a chance to speak, leaving him, dissatisfied, confused, he walked out of the conversation, away from the house, out of the gate and into the road. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to get away, far away. He felt his tears threaten to come, but he buried them.
He wasn't going to cry over Taehyung. He would never cry over Taehyung.
He walked down the street, feeling bluer than ever before. The street was empty, the cars were aligned in a perfect line, almost in a queue, in front of big houses filled with people. He wondered what it was like to live in them, to live a different life. Would he be happy then? Would he know who he was?
He walked on, drunk in his own thoughts. He was tired, so tired. Of everything. He didn't want to be angry anymore, he didn't want to feel the tense feeling he felt when Taehyung was around him. But he had a right to be upset. To be angry. Taehyung wasn't who he thought he was. He wasn't a friend, not a real one. He had never really cared about him.
Yes he had, the trees said, as they stirred. Of course he cared. He still cared.
But somehow that hurt even more.
He wanted to call Jimin. But he was at rehearsal. Besides, he shouldn't bother him. He had met Mina yesterday. He hadn't told him how it went. Perhaps he didn't want Jeongguk to tell him told you so. Not that he would have. But he still didn't understand why he would give her a chance to make up excuses. Perhaps he just needed some space.
He stopped in his step and looked up. Somehow, without even noticing he had walked all the way to the cemetery. He observed the front gate that pierced its way into the sky, seemingly taller in the dark. He walked inside.
The trees cast deep shadows over the graves, the plants surrounding them leaning towards them as if giving them a gentle good night's kiss. And although it looked quite dark and eerie, he didn't feel scared. It seemed quieter, in a sense, a place of slumber.
The grave was more difficult to find in the dark. At one point he thought he'd found the right one, but when he'd knelt down in front of it, he saw it was not his own name engraved in the stone, but that of a woman. Then finally, he recognised one of the big oak trees that stood near, and only moments later he was kneeling in front of a bed of flowers belonging to his father.
It was quite a small grave, but perhaps that was only because it looked small in such a large space. His mother had a reserved place next to him, and she had told him numerous times that she wanted a nice stone, for the two of them to share, along with a quotation behind it: Two birds, settled on the tree-branch, together again.
He had never asked why she wanted that particular one, but he knew, judging by the necklace his mother always carried, a silver pendant of two birds leaning towards the other, that it bore a deeper meaning than he could understand. That birds were something the two of them had shared, and he was content with letting them share it, just the two of them.
There were some candles on the grave, some plants that needed tending and some white flowers that looked fairly new. Perhaps a fan of his films had come by. Jeongguk always thought it weird, how strangers remembered his father. Not many, as his father had died right before he managed to quite enchant all of Korea, if not the world, or that's what everybody said. Jeongguk didn't know how true it was, or if it was just another one of those lies people told about the dead.
He hadn't been here for a while. It looked different in the dark. Almost, as if it were emptier, lonelier, forgotten. Jeongguk felt a pang of guilt. He should come here more often. It wasn't far at all. He was failing as a mourner.
He sat down in front of it. Said nothing. He knew some people talked to graves, but he had never seen the point of doing that. His father wasn't going to hear him any better if he said anything out loud. But lurking shadows had a bigger chance to eavesdrop. Better to sit in silence.
It seemed to him that at night, the insecurities crawled back into his head, all those thoughts he'd been burying down came back like Midwest tumbleweeds. And perhaps that was why people were afraid of the dark. Hidden in the dark were people's greatest fears, their darkest thoughts, embodied in monsters and ghouls. Perhaps he didn't much like the dark after all.
He wished he could light one of the candles, but he had no lighter. It wasn't cold, but he felt cold in the dark. Felt exposed to the night. He rubbed his upper arms and then squeezed tight, giving himself a hug. Then, almost without noticing it, he reached up and touched his neck, ran his fingers down the chain and held the pendant of his father's necklace between his fingers. It was cool. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. In one swoop, he clenched his jaw and took off the necklace. He looked down at it, hated the way it stared up at him, his own name, the name that was not his.
It was cursed. He had ruined it. Ruined it with his soft, gentle hands.
He stuffed it inside the pocket of his pants. He couldn't bear to look at it.
He put his head on his knees and hugged himself again. Breathed in, quietly, out, silently.
He was going to be spending the entire summer with him.
On an island. In the same house.
He didn't quite know how he was going to survive it.
***
I actually posted in less than two weeks? Who am I and what have I done with Sten?
I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I do. Sorry not so sorry about the angst.
This chapter is dedicated to babystays5. Thank you so much for your lovely comments and votes, it means a whole lot to me.
Love you all so much! Remember to vote <33
Love, Sten