xiv. emergence
[ richard strauss - also sprach zarathustra ]
LISA.
"So tell me why are we going to NYU again?" My brother, V, asked as he puffed off smoke from his four hundred dollar tobacco pipe, with a purging conviction. As if it justifies his beatnik fashion fad as we parade the sidewalks of Greenwich Village. Styling on his black turtleneck tanked below with his matte leather pants, topped with a beige beret on his head and golden specs which was meant to cover his drowsy eyes where he got from cold coffees and sleepless nights because he needed to catch up with the output deadlines for this month's issue. The post-graduate success he's been experiencing, ironically, had him stressed in all days. But still he remains more than abashed, besides he's doing what he loves.
Gladly, amidst of his pandemonium state, he still agreed to participate on my personal endeavor. "To meet my girlfriend." I pursued, "Hmm. You've been blabbering about this lady of yours lately. I warn you, I have great expectations." He implied. "She'll go beyond whatever you have thought." I presented a chic and confident tone. I mean, Jennie KIm has never disappointed anyone — and shall never. "Whoever she is, just make sure this relationship of yours will never go to the front page. Publishing a controversy about you is an irony I can't handle." His voice was deterrent and I was reminded why I should be cautious. I could only nod.
"Remind you, we're also here for publicity. The NYU Opening Festivities could make it to the front page. That's if they can give the merriment that I need." An austere tone clanged from his deep voice. It was business as usual.
I heard that the music festival was the main event of the School Year Opening. Because for the first time ever, a lady will do a solo act in front of NYU's school crowd. Which has never been done before. But this hasn't been confirmed, it was just a factual-like rumor spreading across the university. Nonetheless, it still helped the marketing team achieve their quota. The event was sold out. As what Jen have told me.
As we enter the gates of NYU, as one of the media marketers for the event, a pool of popping colored teens with slicked hairs in on-season hats welcomed us, walking from every corner of every hall. My hand automatically raised my newly purchased 35mm Exakta Varex IIb camera. Shining on it's black and silvery template, I quickly took a snap around the area. Click. My Father thought that it would be a nice surprise to give me after his long business endeavors in Germany. A new baby for my collection.
The event was on a another quadrangle, bigger than the first one we've entered. So we advanced to the venue slowly as the clicking of my camera was dominating my senses. Click. click. click. Seeing all these glimmering subjects to be viewed are all splendid and overwhelming. I couldn't miss it for a heartbeat.
Then few moments later, I have spotted the grand stage for the concert, the place was half a hectare of land canopied with newly mowed turf grass with small booths on the sidelines selling books, merchandises, or whatever things charitable. And beaming under the rays of the sun stood the stage. It was at the center of the field, two meters high above the ground. The backdrop were sketched letters saying NYU Music: The 1965 Emergence modelling with colors of red, blue and purple. The lights and the instruments were already set on stage like it's ready to be torn by the passion drive of the performing artists. All ready to be wrecked for the sake of musicality. Click.
In the corner of my eye, I found V surrounded by plated-wearing skirt girls ranging from blonde to brunette firing love looks over the conventional looking heartthrob. Mind you, this is the usual scenario whenever my brother strolls around in public flashing his astounding features. He considers this as a courteous gesture. Click. Well, charity is his preferred word.
The show starts in an hour but I needed to find Jen before it begins so I rushed myself to the backstage tent, hoping to finally tear away all the parts of my body that misses her. But as I opened the drapes. I witnessed a woman, instead. A different woman. She was like an embodiment of an hour glass, with an overflowing chestnut hair branching out from her shoulders. A sweet scent of bloomed orchids ventilated the whole room, "Roseanne?" Her name clapped through my head as I recognized the fragrance. With my call, she turned her body in full degree and I was able to grasp who she was. And I wasn't wrong. Her luminescent eyes struck me right away, like a garden in spring, her smile flowed as if it gives life to this dark orbited room. And yet it does, everything was a shade lighter. "Hey, Lisa. What brings you here?" She wondered. I thought she was relaxed yet as a minute went by I noticed her absurd agitation, perhaps she's trying to fabricate her way through this conversation. But why? When did I make her uncomfortable? Ever since I've known Chanyeol, I have known her also. We've learned to be friends, well associates at least. "I'm here to fi— " I paused as both of my iris patched something peculiar, "Wait— " My foot took one step closer as my neck clinched down, I felt her flinch, "— — — You've got lipstick on your face." I said as I pointed a finger to her upper lip. I knew that lip color, it's portrait peach. It's popular nowadays, every magazine features it. Took her half a second to catch up before she startled to find a tissue and fix herself up. "Oh, how embarrassing." Her tone eluded me, "It's fine. It didn't made you any less stunning." I complimented her hoping to give refinement to this awkward of a scene, and I want to believe I've succeeded, as a slight amused smile appeared in between her lips. Click. The flickering of her eyes came along with the shuttering of my camera. "I love candids, gives you the most raw forms of emotion." I implied. I looked at her with a smile, "I'll get this articled."
"Oh, I don't think a portrait of a woman can get your articles selling." Her doubt was agonizing. I chuckled, "I don't think they'll deny themselves the pleasure of beauty. That is something you have, and that's already a good market deal, I tell you." She huffed like all I said was to make her laugh, "You've gotten clever, Manoban." Roseanne stayed unimpressed. "This is not cleverness. This is the truth." I battled out. She was still amused as she took a few steps forward to reach my shoulder. "Well, thank you for trying to make me feel beautiful. I need the boost." Her smile emanated again as I felt her thankfulness with a gentle tap by the shoulders.
"I've heard you're performing?" I entered another topic, "Oh, yes — well— Jen talked me into it." I heard my heart clamored which was absurd. I shouldn't be gnashing as if it was worthy of jealousy. Yet I demand courtesy regardless of all the insecurities I have of her and the role she plays on Jen's future and now. Regardless of it consuming me. Regardless of it hurting me. Roseanne doesn't deserve it. "Good luck anyways. Prove to people that you deserve to be heard." I plastered a smile. Roseanne was about to respond when a movement began to appear beneath the drapes, our gazes redirected, "Oh Lalisa, you came!" A shot of his enthusiasm awaken the atmosphere, it was Chanyeol. The love of her life, as what I've been told. and I think I saw Roseanne breathe. He gave her relief.
"Hey! I was meant to find Jen but I stumbled upon your fiancé instead." I gestured a safe distance as Chanyeol planted a soft kiss on Roseanne's forehead, like a greeting. He wrapped her arms around the lady as she slightly leaned on to his broad chest. "Well, Jen's at the back if you wish to find her." He quickly gave a heads up.
"Thanks. I'll go ahead and find that girl." I said, "But first, smile for me." I reached for my camera and Click. I took away a snap of them both before disappearing over the drapes. I headed outside. And at the back of the tent there stood mine. Click. The love of my life. Jen's head swiveled at my direction as she heard the shutter, our eyes met. I found home. "I've been searching for you."
"Guess you've found me." Her smile didn't reach her eyes, which they don't normally do. My mind ran skeptic. What has occurred to have her be like this? "What have you been doing?" I asked in concern. "Preparations and a lot of panicking." She managed to answer. "Just don't forget to breathe" I teased a reminder. She playfully rolled her eyes."Pssh. Whatever, Manoban"
I did a little scan in the area and after assuring that we were alone, I railed my fingers down hers. Shivers electrocuted my skin and I never felt more alive. This being of mine misses Jen. My hands were now embracing hers. Locking it, sealing it with the safety she deserves to feel. "Hey, listen." I caught her attention. "You're greater than every doubt you've planted in your head."
Then the smile that I've been waiting for, appeared. Her smile that shines brighter than million-year-old diamonds. An indefinite treasure. "How is it that you always find your way through me?" Her voice was curious as I only began to think of it. "I don't know. Maybe I was just made to do it." I injected as I felt her fingers fumbling over my skin. Playing it with lightness. "That could be. Because you've never failed once." Her eyes carried me into a new galaxy as her words flew me into space.
Right out of nowhere, she gave me an embrace. I flinched but I was in the moment. Her warmth daunted my being to full surrender. "Let us stay like this for awhile." She mumbled the sweetest words. Her hug was tight, our hearts wrapped in matrimony with our bodies intertwining together.
...
JENNIE.
Haunting. That's what I've been feeling ever since what happened a day ago. No one dared to speak. It was all about little glances and subtle actions in a distance after that. I couldn't blame her. That was fucked up.
It's the morning of NYU School Opening which means the music festival would be in the afternoon already. After all the hectic fumes I had endured for a week, now is the day where I run my last errands. And all I could do was agitate all day. I double-checked, tripled-checked and quadrupled-check everything. Since there's no internet nor online shopping in this era, so basically I had to do my researches in the library, do walk-in bookings, ask recommendations from experts, buy in distant shops and bring around a stacking book of phone numbers to dial. Sigh. I miss civilization.
It was the end of my errands when I spotted Roseanne at the corner of my eye, exiting from her Volkswagen ride. I was suppose to pretend invisible but my eyes betrayed me. I was stuck with those conceiving orbs. She was too luminating, all to glorious not to look. Then shivers wildered my being when she caught me looking. What have we done? Both of our eyes were saying the same words. We cannot defy the feeling but so is the absurdity of it. Let me pretend to not miss her, let me pretend that she never passes my mind everyday, let me pretend that I do not think of her skin setting me on fire, let me pretend that Roseanne is not my Park Chaeyoung. Let me pretend — and if ever this is over, let me breathe again.
Timely, we entered together with a half but seem like the farthest meter I've ever felt barricading between us. I could only look ahead for I couldn't bear the awkwardness, and with all the teenage attention the students are giving us, our walking paces were quick. We both knew this was uncomfortable. The only goal was to escape from this heavy atmosphere and be on the backstage tent. Where I can proceed to my final amendments.
...
It hasn't still occurred to me that I am stuck in the same room with Roseanne again. Just after that noble day. I can sense her fear. Or her uncertainty, perhaps. To better things at this moment I've decided to leave. I cannot give Roseanne the discomfort she doesn't need. "I'll just drop off my things here and run off." I said in a permissive tone as I put my Versace by the near table. Roseanne was silent, facing at the bulb mirror, still and stagnant as if she was on a trance, like she didn't hear what I said.
I couldn't care less so I did not wait for her approval. The drapery was almost on my reach when her voice spilled my name. It called me inside, my soul was dragging itself to her. Was I desperately waiting for this moment?
"I don't know what's the appropriate time to say this but I'm gonna say it anyways." She didn't catch her breath, as if it was something heavy that she poured out, "I apologize. For such an immature act that I did." She lamented like she committed a grave sin and I don't know what to feel about it. "We were caught in the moment." Roseanne continued. A crunch on the forehead was my reaction, "By we you mean you? Because I knew what I did. It was my choice." I disapproved her statement. I won't deny how I felt at that moment and how it lead me onto kissing her. I left her in silence, almost a jaw drop. "I wasn't sure why I did that." She conveyed. Her words despised her eyes, Then why do I feel like you meant it? I wanted to ask and give transparency but she's not open to such arrangements. Base on the atmosphere she's releasing.
"Roseanne..." I was dragged by my feet, I found myself drawing closer to her. I wasn't even sure if this was me or her effect. I put on a gaze. A challenge of such. Now I can smell the intoxicating orchid blooms splurged around her body, and all I want was to drown with them. "One question." I intended a whisper, "Are you scared of me?"
A queer silence blew her lips, I was waiting. "No." She rose up to the occasion and gave me the same intensity of eyes."I-I'm just scared of the fact that I don't hate what you did." Now her walls were wearing off. Her silvery, shaken-off tone spoke like truth was honey. "Then why can't you admit it?" The air was futile, a dangerous consolation. I felt her body suspend in tension, a gulp was released before she spoke, " Because I might do it again, and I don't know if I can handle everything after that." Her lips finally confessed the truth that was hidden beneath her orbs.
Roseanne's words manipulated me and left me in wonder, "You might?" I questioned. She's not rejecting me wholly. But why?
"I don't want to think about it." Her breath lingered dangerously over my lips. A taunting act. I murmured a breath of spice, "What are you thinking now?" My eyes were all on her delicatessen lips, as if looking at it will ease my sanity. Her lipstick smelled like peach, tasty and endearing. She slowly shook her head as if she's trying to fight what her mind was telling her but I can feel her body coming closer. She's looking below me, perhaps at my lips. "I'm thinking of..." She said underneath her voice, "doing it again." Then I was caught off guard when her hand traveled through my jaw, caressing my burning skin. Slowly enclosing my personal space.
She breathed fire as I felt the magnet that's pulling me into her skin again. I'm lured in, but the other side of my mind was telling me to let go. This is absurd but all I can hear was Lisa's voice running through. I can feel Lisa's touch, hands, and scent. Her vital being pulling me out. Guilt was stinging my throat. I have hurt her enough, how could I afford doing it again?
"Jen..." Roseanne's voice was suddenly deafening yet I couldn't move nor stop her lips from plunging into mine. Before I knew it, our lips have crashed. Yet the guilt was painful, her lips were suddenly rusty. All was vulgar. I could only think of Lisa and all the crippling mistakes I've done to her. Stop it, Jen. I felt toxicity in my veins, the dreadful guilt consuming me.
That's it. Enough. I snapped. I pushed her in mediate. This wasn't right. "I'm sorry." I apologized as I catch my breath. "I-I need to go." My mind went overdrive as I went out of the tent. I felt despicable, entitled, doomed.
Everything after that was all a blur not until Lisa surfaced over the drapes and found me. Now I'm embracing her, I had to say sorry yet no words were pouring out of me. Well maybe I was scared of the truth. The truth of hurting her again. I was scared that my mistake will make her falter this time. I don't want that. She's my girlfriend after all. The embrace was settling for now and maybe I could figure things out after this festival.
"Jen?" Her echoing mellow voice was so ever pleasant, I hummed in response. "I love you." With her little voice she spoke a confession. My hands grew stiff, my veins were rigid. It was biting me again. I felt the weight of my doings, banging and beating me up. I tightened my hug. "I'm sorry." I mumbled in soft nothings after shedding a tear behind her. I can feel my grip tighten.
As much as I want to break down and crash into Lisa. Now is not the time. So I gathered my shit together, sucking it all up. I buried my feelings into the abyss of my soul as I let go of our embrace. "I should go now." I said. She altered a smile, my eyes were on her lips it looked better than my go-to coffee on Sundays. Of course, Lalisa never fails to taste good. "I'll see you later."
"Make me proud, miss Kim." were her last words engraved on my mind as I waved her goodbye and went to make my final technical checks before the concert.
...
ROSEANNE.
"You can do it, okay?" Chanyeol's words didn't actually went through me. I somehow feel distorted, unsure, confused. Like im in a bubble, I was barricaded to the world and I'm not even sure if I wanted to be there.
I'm sorry. I had a hard time deciphering those words, and what it should mean to me. Was it a withdrawal? A rejection? Her hostile revenge? I felt left alone, betrayed, and mad. She left me hanging. I was clueless. Not posh at all.
I looked into the eyes of the man of my life. The prince of everyone. The musketeer of every damsel. He's all I ever knew, not until this girl made out of broken diadems and cursed jewels showed me another throne. Asking me to rule with her or not. Whilst this, can i even afford losing my prince?
Staring at him right now feels like something is missing, which I couldn't pinpoint what. Nothing on my insides were brewing, instead all I could feel was pangs of guilt. This man didn't deserve my dishonesty yet what could I do if I already decided to keep my mouth sealed? I don't know what feelings should I consider anymore and I still have a performance to belt later, I'm three acts away from showing myself for the first time into the limelight and everyone's attention would be on me. I hope the universe will help me manage.
...
When I heard my name echoing through the speakers calling me out on stage, the world revolved around me differently. I was suddenly seeing certain details, either relevant or not. Everything, I took notice. The reddening of my flesh as my nervousness boiled down my body, the greenness of the turfs as I felt the heartbeat of the earth, the azure skies that only offered peace and the crowd's chants traveling at every air molecule. All has come to this. It was the time for me to come forward, every step was brittle as I exhale the tension living underneath my veins. Let go, Roseanne. I mumbled to the wind — let go.
The grand piano was centered, I can already see it in a distance. I didn't waste time and sat next to the only art I knew in my life. It was my life. An extension of my jubilation. I was seated at the edge of the bench as I took a second look over the people under me, they had eyes that spoke different languages but all were curious if they could understand mine. My skin has touched the keys, I shut my eyes. Graving myself into the serenity of this instance, feeling the sensitivity of my own and of everyone's understanding that every moment formed by the universe has led me into this stage. I couldn't fail this for the stars and for the oblivion. Let go.
As time paused beneath my fingers, I started playing. One of the grand masterpiece of Liszt's Grand Paganini Études, the Wagner's music of the future, a 114-year-old insane creation — The La campanella. I have bled my fingers over this for years, I shed every tear just to have this opportunity, to hear me play.
At every jump of the piece's octave blood was rushing through my veins, I can only hear its notes and melody. Craving for every curve to perpetuate my fingers. I closed my eyes again, then what I felt next was the oblivious thing I've ever imagined.
It's like my soul has been touched, traveling on its deepest forms, impressions, identities, and memories. I saw a vision, in a distant future. And oddly enough, I saw me. Wearing an elegant dress with a confidence I didn't knew I can achieve. I was playing the same piece but this crowd was larger and more important. They were in suits and dangling dresses, designs that were ahead of its time. They were seated in red bunk seats, with dimmed exorbitant lighting. I can feel their smiles, their clap, their judgement of my performance. Frankly, it was more of an occasion to celebrate. Behind me was a sound of an orchestra, a man stood beside conducting them to harmonize with mine. Everything was magic I was at the top of my momentum.
My fingers were coherent with the grand piano. It was flightless, juvenile - the rarest form of freedom. I don't even know where I am anymore, or if I am transported to another time frame where I felt invincible. Then a flash of familiar faces or perhaps, faces I should know began to transition into my vision.
With lovely feline eyes and an enigmatic smile, no doubt, it was the one I knew the most. Why was she here? Why is she watching me with proud eyes like she have known my suffering for so long? And the guy beside her, with pristine small eyes and hands that played well as mine, I can feel his blood as if we share the same origin. At this rate, I don't even know if I'm still playing at the festival or not for all I could see is this other soul's eyes.
I feel warm embraces of gratitude, smiles of pride and a kiss from a beloved. And as I felt the vagueness of my vision, sign that this will come to an end, I saw the same person with dominant feline eyes speaking the words that I didn't know, will leave me in great torment for awhile, "Park Chaeyoung."
Was I her? Will I be her? Am I Park Chaeyoung?
...
a/n: I admire your patience. Thank you. lovelots.