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The gallery buzzed with vivacity; eclectic artists, collectors, and casual enjoyers making their rounds joyously. The exhibition was the first of its kind, exclusively featuring artists who self-identify as outcasts. The work ranged from sculpture, to portrait, to performance art – a woman inviting onlookers to kiss her, reminiscent of Abramović. One corner held a collection of deformed penises, speaking to the imperfection of mankind. Another boasted pop-art-vaginas, practically jumping off the walls at the visitors.
Seohyun didn’t know what to expect when she received the invite weeks ago. She respected the owner of this gallery too much to reject, so she choked back her minor discomfort, put on an outfit that she deemed risqué enough for the trendy crowd, and drove herself to avoid appearing elitist. What Seohyun failed to realize tonight – and every other night – was that no one was judging her or trying to place her. She was freer externally than she ever let herself be internally, and for that, she suffered.
As the woman saw a young couple decked out in full leather straps and chains, she felt the urge to shrink into the corner in her leather skinny jeans and low-cut halter top. Everywhere she turned, somebody looked cooler than her, more comfortable in their own skin. Seohyun felt a twinge of panic settle in her stomach, clutching her purse with desperate force. She tried to stifle the disease by studying the art and making mental notes to contact a variety of artists.
A gust of pink fabric turning the corner suddenly caught Seohyun’s eye. The delicate softness contrasted the harsh synth music blaring through the speakers, the colour a thunder bolt lighting up the darkest night sky. The elusive material beckoned for Seohyun to follow, pulling her focus from the portrait in front of her. When she turned around to track the mysterious shock of pink, she was met with hordes of blacks and golds, metal and silver. Did she hallucinate it? No one in the crowd donned anything brighter than grey – who would show up to a progressive punk art exhibition in pink tulle?
Seohyun shook her head in disappointment, turning to find the exit. And then she saw it again – a flash of pink pushing past a rocker chick in a leather catsuit. This time, Seohyun snapped into action, for some reason transfixed by the material. She ducked her head around a chattering group of friends, pausing briefly to greet an old collaborator, all the while keeping her eyes locked on the tulle.
Seohyun continued her unprecedented quest, perhaps just looking for an excuse to leave the exhibition. She found herself at a dead-end in a dark corridor, no doors on either side. How did I lose it? Seohyun leans her hand on the wall, feeling disoriented and out of her comfort zone.
A gentle voice called her name from behind just as Seohyun was about to pursue the flickering EXIT sign. When she turned around, it was as if she’d seen a ghost. Her hand rose to her chest, her eyes blinking back confusion.
Though the figure was shrouded in shadows, the voice and silhouette were unmistakeable to Seohyun. A woman stood before her; her petite frame accentuated by a fluffy pink tulle dress – the pink tulle dress. The very fabric that had lured Seohyun away from the crowd, a siren’s call. Now she understood why the material had hypnotized her. It wasn’t the dress at all. Rather, it was the soul of the woman who wore it that had charmed her.
“Suzy?” Seohyun whispered, like her name was forbidden, their illicit romance still burning a hole in her heart.
Suzy Choi took a few steps forward, now standing directly under the only light fixture in the corridor. “Is that really you?”
The artist looked like an angel. Her skin glowed and her eyes twinkled as they always had. Her light brown hair had been pulled into a low ponytail, the ends fluffy and curled softly. Seohyun yearned to run her fingers through that hair once more, shoving her hands into her pockets to resist the urge. Suzy’s dress suited her perfectly, timeless and classy, eternally feminine and ethereal. Only she could wear such a dress to this occasion and pull it off.
Seohyun nods hesitantly, taken aback by the beauty that she had fallen for so long ago. Suzy’s youthfulness was still very much intact, and Seohyun wished she could go back to their carefree days together. Before she learned to fear the world.
“How long has it been?” Suzy said with a small smile, stepping closer to her old lover, drawn still to her stoic frame. The artist’s heart was pounding in her chest, smitten all over again by Seohyun’s effortless edge. “You look so cool.” Suzy couldn’t contain herself, and she knew she sounded like a kindergartener talking to their playground crush. And maybe that’s exactly how she felt – excited and hopeful, nervous and timid.
“I do?” Seohyun’s eyes flicked up to Suzy’s, the woman always knowing what to say and when. “This crowd is… Not my scene.” She admits as if she’s talking to a stranger.
“Mine neither.” Suzy agrees, unwittingly placing her hand on Seohyun’s forearm to echo the sentiment.
Both women freeze in place, their gazes dropping to the sudden skin-to-skin contact. Suzy’s hand feels warm on Seohyun’s arm, like it belongs there. It lingers there for a little while, unmoving but powerful. Seohyun holds her breath, praying that this moment will never end.
Until it does. Suzy pulls back, shuffling backwards slightly. She knows well how uncomfortable Seohyun is with public displays of affection, and although the touch was inconspicuous and friendly at best, her old lover’s mind works differently from her own.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Suzy stumbles on her words, the weight of her longing sitting heavily on her chest. She had dreamed up this very reunion in her head, imagining all the different ways she would win Seohyun back. She was an accomplished artist, she travelled all over the world, she had nothing tied to her and she could drop everything for Seohyun. But all of Suzy’s reasons now seemed futile and childish. She wouldn’t stand here and beg for Seohyun to love her again, to forget about the outside world and listen to her own heart. She couldn’t go through the agony of adoring a woman more than she could even tolerate herself.
Seohyun shakes her head, inhaling unsteadily, “You’re okay. I just… I didn’t expect…”
“To see me again?” Suzy says somewhat bitterly. “We’re both in the art world. It was bound to happen someday.”
Seohyun’s eyes widen at the artist’s tone, worrying that she had done something to hurt her again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wanted…”
Suzy scoffs suddenly, years full of anger and one-sided conversations flashing through her mind. “Please don’t lie.” She tries in vain to keep her tears at bay. “You never wanted to see me again. This is your worst nightmare.”
Seohyun gasps at the woman’s crude tirade. “That’s not true, Suzy.” She feels her sanity begin to slip, unprepared to reconcile decades worth of heartache. “I dreamed of you, of this. My sweetest dreams were the ones with you.”
Suzy can’t conceal her emotions anymore, so she lets her pent-up tears fall. “You’re the one to blame. How can you dream of someone that you let go?”
It’s Seohyun’s turn to cry. She brings a shaky hand to her mouth, her eyes pooling with tears. “I know. You’re right. It was my fault.”
Suzy jabs a finger at Seohyun’s chest, her passion longstanding and fervent. “Taking responsibility is the least you can do. You owe us so much more than that.”
Seohyun has no response. All she can do is weep for the things she destroyed. The purest thing in her life stands before her full of vitriol and rage that she caused. Seohyun can’t forgive herself for the way her absence affected Suzy, clearly torturing the sensitive soul. She herself had been tormented by the dissolution of their relationship, but it was her call. She had no right to cry about it.
Upon noticing Seohyun’s shaking shoulders, Suzy’s anger temporarily abated. Why did she want to comfort the woman who broke her heart? Who treated their love like a crime? Who made her fall in love, only to disappear? Though Suzy always seemed to be the emotional one in the relationship, it was truly Seohyun who held the sensitive heart. Suzy was honest about her emotions, accepting them, honouring them, and letting them go. The same could not be said for Seohyun. She cornered her vulnerability into a cage to appear impenetrable. By ignoring her natural softness, Seohyun allowed a wounded beast to rule her heart. It craved the nurture and love it was routinely denied. Suzy was often tasked with coaxing Seohyun out of depressive spells, allowing her to acknowledge her weaknesses and make peace with them. But Seohyun’s sexual repression was a responsibility that Suzy could not undertake. It was a journey that Seohyun had to conquer on her own. The artist shudders to think how much deeper Seohyun’s resentment has grown during their time apart.
“I’m sorry I can’t be as strong as you are, Suzy.” Seohyun says, tears running down her cheeks. “I wish I could have absorbed some of your braveness –”
“You still don’t get it.” Suzy cuts her off suddenly. “This has nothing to do with me. You are brave. You’ve trained yourself into believing that you’re cowardly and weak so that you never have to accept yourself.”
Seohyun wipes her face, hesitant to meet Suzy’s eyes. The artist was always better at handling the immensity of her emotions than she herself was. “If I were anything like you, I would’ve been okay with who I am years ago. We’d still be together.”
Suzy shakes her head in frustration. She grabs Seohyun by the shoulders and pulls them close to each other, an inch separating the pair. Suzy’s grip is firm around Seohyun’s arms, relishing in the extra centimetres her stilettos afford her. “The reason I love you is because we’re not alike, Seohyun. Our strength is the one thing that makes us similar. Do you think a coward could’ve conquered the Hyowon group?”
Seohyun’s eyes lock onto Suzy’s, alerted to the fact that the artist had been keeping tabs on her. The reason I love you… Present tense. Seohyun was mistaken. The woman didn’t hate her – she hated herself for still loving her.
“You deserve someone better than me.” Seohyun says quietly.
“You are the best the world has to offer. No matter how hard I tried…” Suzy gulps back the rest of her sentence and takes a step away from Seohyun, dropping her arms and her gaze.
“What?” Seohyun asks, keen on the woman.
“I could never get over you.” A glossy sheen looms over Suzy’s eyes, yearning painted earnestly in her expression. “I really tried, Seohyun. I didn’t want to be a leach that kept coming back to you. But I just found myself looking for you in other women.”
Seohyun smiles sadly, implicitly empathizing with Suzy’s statement. “And I try to find traces of you in my husband.” Seohyun admits, cringing at the word husband. “Just to pretend like I’m married to you instead.” Though she’s stopped crying. Seohyun’s heart feels ripped to pieces, gaping inside of her chest. The problem-solving woman doesn’t have the right answer, and it pains her.
Suzy looks up at her with a similar show of anguish in her eyes, silently pleading for Seohyun to give into herself, to her needs and desires. “I miss you so much.” A tear slides down her cheek, and Seohyun reaches out to catch it, her palm resting on Suzy’s face. “I miss this touch.” Suzy places her hand over Seohyun’s, relishing in the woman’s warmth.
“I do too.” Seohyun bites her lip, watching Suzy like she hung the stars in the sky. “But I don’t want to miss you anymore.” She says quickly, a decades-long decision suddenly rearing its head in a dimly lit gallery back corridor.
Suzy’s eyes snap open and she pulls Seohyun’s hand down to her chest, holding it with all her strength. “Please don’t say things like that.” The glimmer of hope in her eyes betrays the suspicion in her words.
“I mean it. I can’t take another day without you now that I know how it feels to hold you again.” Seohyun says firmly. She slides her arm around Suzy’s pink-tulle-waist and pulls her in for a tender kiss.