Work Text:
The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts. - Marcus Aurelius
“My father wrote a book” I hear him say. I’ve placed my phone next to my right ear so it is as if he was lying next to me. Call me a romantic but there’s something magical about the idea of someone you care for laying next to you in the vulnerability of the morning. I felt safe listening to him. I didn’t even know his real name. He didn’t know mine. We originally found each other on a forum for Cambridge prospective students from around the world. He was from Korea. Me, the UK. I thought I had it bad but turns out the Korean education system is absolutely brutal. He said the same thing about mine.
“What was the book about?”
“How to perceive colours before meeting a soulmate. I grew up with that book and listened to the songs he recommended. It’s pretty cool.”
“Well I’ve gotten so used to living without colour, it’s all a blur”
“Well, you do know the colours, right, Belle?”
Belle wasn’t my real name. But it was what I went by online. To fit in, to not be the immigrant girl who couldn’t fit into the perfect box the Brits wanted me to. Don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful that my parents moved our family here. The education was vastly better than where I was originally from, but the move put my culture in jeopardy. I didn’t fit in with my white classmates since I was too ethnic, didn't fit in when we visited my grandparents back home since I was too white, so tainted by the blandness of British culture, just because I wasn’t accustomed to the way their day was organised, or the fact when I attempted my mother tongue it came out, well, foreign. For a place that can’t see colour until they meet their other half, that’s kinda convoluted.
“C’mon Stephano, of course, I know the colours. I’m just not quite sure what to be expecting when I do see them.”
“When, huh?”
“I don’t like the phrase ‘what if?’” I say as I hear a hubbub. Stephano is probably on the bus home from school, it’s the only time that works out well for us to talk. I tossed it over on my bed. “Leaves too much uncertainty.”
He chuckled “Well, uncertainty is what our life is. Speaking of, I got an offer, I forgot to mention. It came through this morning”
I sat up “What, that’s incredible! Why did you keep it from me?”
“Sorry” he sounded sheepish. A screeching sound was heard far away “Hey, Belle, this is my stop. I’m going to have to go. Enjoy the rest of the day. Who knows you may get your email.”
“Home students don’t get their email for another week. But thanks, kiddo.”
“Hey! That was confidential information! And besides, I bet I’d tower over you, even if I'm younger.”
“Sure, sure, Stephie. Have a good day. Enjoy your mother’s food.”
“I will. Go get them, Belle”
****
I walked into the coffee shop where my brother’s best friend was flustering over drinks. He was older than me, in my brother’s year but we always sort of had a bond. We got closer since my brother went to university, leaving us both for our miserable town.
“Jackie”
Jackson’s eyes lit up. Jackson Wang. My brother’s best friend. Whom he ditched for studies. He is mine now. Well more like I was his since he insisted on being my makeshift brother.
“Well, hello there, you little shit.”
“Dude,” I said as I saw a few customers look his way at his remark. Not that that was the worst thing they probably heard.
“What do you want?”
“Your unconditional love. Also an Iced Mocha. Thank hun.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, fighting off a smile as he swiped his card, giving me his free drink for that hour and going to the ice machine.
I opened up my emails on my phone, a habit I had unfortunately grown, fearful of a devastating email. Or perhaps wishful for the best? Nothing had come through yet and I sighed, thinking about Stephano’s conversation. I was so proud of him. The day after Stephano’s interview, I called him when I was walking home from school when it was bedtime in Korea. We talked for hours, firstly about each of our interviews and how we felt like we messed up big time, then about the off-chance that we got let in. The conversation ran for a very long time and suddenly we were talking of the future and finding soulmates and settling down. The sun had set in the UK because of the short daylight hours so it almost felt like we were spending the night together. That night was sweet. I was talking about what I wish my day in life would be when I heard snoring on the other side. I checked my dual clock to find that it was 2:45 am in Korea. I smiled softly, thinking it was adorable that Stephano was sleepy but didn’t bother telling me. I told him goodnight even though he couldn’t hear me and then read a book until I was sleepy enough to fall asleep, many hours later. I heard a commotion as I was trying to fall asleep and a phrase in Korean that I didn’t know the meaning of.
“Did the hot Asian babes near your area finally find you then?”
“Huh?” I looked confused at the speaker but found it was Jackson, holding my drink. It seems I was so absorbed in looking for my emails that Jackson had already made my drink. I took a sip, tasting the vanilla syrup that I had forgotten to ask for.
“Thanks for the syrup”
“No problem, you little shit. Now bounce, the red bus will be here soon”
“Haha, very funny. The bus is blue, I asked my dad the other day.”
“And how do you know you can see blue?” Jackson ducked under the counter to walk me to the bus stop.
“I can’t. Funnily enough, Stephano was talking about a book his dad wrote about how to view colour in different ways and the phenomenon of synesthesia. Blue is like Clair de Lune.”
“Ok, just know there are different shades of blue and some are pretty insane.”
Jackson said his coloured vision came up about 2 years ago when he went solo travelling to Thailand. He said he was drunk the night before, woke up with colour and thought he’d accidentally taken an LSD pill or something. Then a few days later he figured out that he must’ve met his soulmate at that time. Since studying wasn’t for him and his parents were not going to fund another trip, he was working on saving for a ticket to fly to Thailand, in hopes of finding the lucky girl. He had a lot of hope, which is why he worked overtime at this forsaken coffee shop.
I walked to the bus station to the number that was labelled 2. I sat on the bus and checked my phone. Stephano had sent a picture of his food with a thumbs up and I smiled. We had never sent each other our faces. In all fairness, we had never mentioned it. I was kinda worried about what he would think I looked like and so I had never sent myself. It wasn’t exactly that I was insecure about my features. I looked fine. Speaking to Stephano I learnt of the harsh beauty standards that Koreans put themselves against and I already knew I didn’t fit them. I guess… I wanted him to like me for my personality? It was weird admitting that aloud.
I opened up my emails and let out a shriek. On my phone was my acceptance, in bright white letters. There was information discussing travel arrangements and accommodation but my brain didn’t take any of it in. It was fine, I’d probably have the email memorised because knowing me, I’d read the email over and over to make sure that it was real. I wasn’t even thinking and my phone was at my ear, a faint trill sounding repeatedly. Looked at the time and the call connected.
“Yeobosayo, nuguseyo (Hello, who is this?)?” My heart somersaulted. Stephano’s voice was gruff and raspy and hot.
“Hello?”
“Belle?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be stupid” His voice sounds brighter like he’s forcing himself to sound happy.”How can I help you”
“What time is it over there?”
“like 1?”
“No, it's fine, I’ll tell you later”
“Woman. You’ve woken me up now. Clearly something’s on your mind.”
“ I… I got in”
“Belle? What the hell, that’s amazing!” Stephano is shouting, clearly wide awake. I can hear creaks of the bed and shuffling “I’m so proud of you, I can’t wait to meet you!”
“Hyyyung (broo)” I hear another boy in the distance.
“Mian. (Sorry)” I hear Sephano in the distance then his voice is closer to the phone. “Sorry, my younger brother is trying to sleep.”
“Oh, sorry, go back to sleep,” I say with a quiver. I’ve got so much adrenaline in me.
“Yunho.”
“What?”
“My real name is Yunho. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while since I feel like I’ve known you like the back of my hand. But I wanted to wait till we both had offers. So we had something to look forward to”
“What does it mean?” I say softly. I look over and they are approaching my stop. I grab my bag and head off. “Give me a second.” I step off the platform, giving a small thanks to the driver. Then I press my phone onto my ear.
“Not 100% sure. My mother has mentioned it at some point but I cannot remember.”
“Ok.” there is a long pause. “Yunho?”
“Wow,” he mutters under his breath. Then he pipes up. “ Uh, yeah?”
“I’m Layla”
“Layla. That’s a pretty name, what does it mean?”
“ Apparently Dark Beauty but I don’t think that applies in 2 accounts. I’m like a honey colour and I’m not primadonna pretty”
Yunho is silent then speaks “Hey maybe you’re pretty like a Black Forest Cake. With a lot of complexity and a bit of cream.”
I laughed. “Go to sleep, you moron”
“Bye, Layla”
“Goodnight, Yunho” and I hear him exhale softly before gasping and abruptly cutting the call. Perhaps he had realised what time it was and how much sleep he was actually going to get.
****
It hoisted the plastic box full of my random stuff into the car. It was about a month after results day and I was finally moving into Cambridge university. The day was black and white, though Baba mentioned that the neighbours had clearly washed the car since rainbow suds were collecting under the car. Not that I would be able to tell. I had embraced this monochromatic view of life: when my soulmate came, they came. Jackson was standing with a suitcase. He asked my dad if he could come along to drop me off as he had done with my brother. Both times my dad said no. He sighed in defeat, knowing nothing would budge his view. Truth be told, old Raja Kapoor didn’t trust a man within fifty yards of his only daughter because she was pure and deserved to be protected. He loved me and I loved him: we had been there for each other through thick and thin.
“So you’re finally leaving this shithole?” Jackson chortled as he hurled the suitcase on top of my Ikea storage non-too-gently. I winced at the thought that the box would be broken before I set foot in my accommodation.
“Yep. And it is not a shithole. Give the poor city a bit more credit”
“Sure. you’ll say that cos you don’t know anyone at university and everyone you know is here. But wait till you have a few good friends and you’ll toss off like you idiot brother.”
“No, I won’t, you doofus. I go for 2 months and then I’m back for 5 weeks. Then you can piss me off to your heart's content.”
“I’m gonna hold you against that, you know” Jackson fought a grin. He moved towards me and he hugged me. I held him close, his presence feeling more brotherly than my actual biological brother at this moment.
We broke apart and I climbed into the car since Baba was ready. The car ride was pleasant: Baba had burned a CD, especially for the journey. We had a relatively old car and the music gave the car a good vibe. As I was humming along to Ajab Si, I stared out the window. Grey grass was all that I could see for miles on the motorway. When I was a child and the concept of colour was explained to me, I had a habit of asking my mother what colour everything was. I remember telling me that my eyes were not brown like hers and my dad’s but rather an olive green, deep and vibrant. I could tell they were light in the mirror but I wished for a day when I could see them for myself.
“Baba?”
“Ji (yes)”
“Are my eyes the same colour as the grass?”
“Not at all. They are like the colour of pistas (pistachios). But then again, sweetheart, I think you’ll see your eye colour soon enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, your mother and I found colour at university too. We once locked eyes when swapping in and out of a lecture hall. It was a dizzying experience. And then I met her again. We got talking and the rest was history. Just keep a level head if it does happen. It’s pretty shocking. And if you don’t then that’s ok.”
“Thank you, Baba”
“No worries. Just make sure you call me.”
“Every day”
****
“Hey! I’m Abbie, I'm from the room next door!”
“Layla, nice to meet you” I was not particularly happy since my door was propped open with a show and I was trying my hardest to unpack. I had found a message that Steph- Yunho was going to be at the start-of-term fireworks and that we should meet each other. I was nervous; I wanted to meet the guy I had fallen asleep to so badly. And I hope he’s ready to see me. I imagine he thinks of me as some absolutely stunning girl but hopefully, he sticks around for me.
“Your eyes are such a pretty colour!”
“What colour are they?” I said without thinking. Habit. Abbie scrunched her nose
“Haven’t found the man yet?”
“Unfortunately not. But I’m not worrying too much” I kicked the empty suitcase under my bed and carried the folded jumper into my cupboard.
Abbie picks up the jeans and follows me. “You’ll find them someday,” she smiles at me. “And they are like a mix of olive and pistachio. Like you take grass and grind it up and mix peanut butter. Something like that?
I was fascinated by her response “Are you an artist?”
“Yep. I found my soulmate at the age of 4 so I’ve seen my entire life in colour. He was my childhood friend. And then we became high school sweethearts but he’s back at home.”
“That’s pretty cool. I’ve gotten used to black and white but I do want to see colour.”
She patted me on the back “ You’ll see it soon enough. That’s the way we find love. And everyone’s got some.”
****
I changed into a soft-looking dress, probably the best thing I owned. I thought I looked slightly better than mediocre in it and I thought at least people I met would have a good impression of me. I paired it with some tights and boots since I knew how cold it would be. I texted Yunho telling him I’d be there and he sent me a smiling emoji. The butterflies entered my stomach and I took in a deep breath.
I stepped out. Cambridge was dark, the buildings hard to make out. I couldn’t quite figure out what colour they were. I walked a while, passing shops with memorabilia and outfits that glistened. I saw on a wall that someone had chalked on ‘To the River’. I followed it, nervous. The bridge was tall and a haughty library neighboured it. There were many people on the bridge already. I then took out the keychain from my backpack and hooked it to the zipper. It was a golden retriever, an animal that Yunho associated with himself. I bought it so that he could identify me. He said he bought a black rose so that I should be able to spot him. I wormed my way to the front of the bridge looking at the 2 men setting up the display.
Towards the start, I could see a burst of light, probably the spark that started the fireworks. There was an ascending high-pitched sound as I could see something that wasn’t quite white but more a light grey shooting like a star. Then there was an explosion and the grey expanded like an octopus, scattering little flecks of white into the night sky, bedazzling the sky. More followed of different shades of grey, exploding and scattering light just as the first had. Then there was a pause. The men were setting up as some boats with people floated past. I went to get my phone out of my bag, swinging it in front of me. I wanted to take a video of the fireworks so that I could recognise the colours at a later time. I checked but my phone was about to die. I shoved it back and hauled the backpack back on. Then I heard a yell.
“Layla!” It was a masculine voice, deep but energising. I looked straight in the direction of the voice. Only one person knew my name.
“Yunho!” I yelled out. And then I saw him.
His smile was wide and his eyes followed suit. I’m sure my eyes were widening too. It happened so suddenly. The boat was an oaky brown, The water a murky grey-blue. There were soft, light yellow hues from lamps. And Yunho. He was rosy from the cold, his teeth white and straight. His hair was a curly brown and he wore an adorable large black coat with a grey scarf. I slapped my hand on my mouth and ran towards the river. Yunho was asking the boat guy to drop him off and he did.
It felt like ages. The boat moored and Yunho leapt out. I ran towards him, tears in my eyes, blurring my vision.
“Wow.” He muttered in my ear, his breath hot. “ Did you know your eyes are the prettiest green?”
I laughed and felt him shiver “I’ve not seen them in full colour”
I pulled back and watched his eyes. They were thinking “You are stunning. You lied to me!” He looked hurt.
I smacked his arm “Excuse me, ‘kiddo’! You couldn’t mention that you were 6 foot 1? Jesus, it’s like my friend is a giant.”
Yunho grinned “I think you mean soulmate”
I smiled bashfully “Sure, but let’s not rush anything”
Yunho pulled me closer “Of course not. Your voice was the only thing that got me through the past few months. I’m glad we’re finally together.”
I pulled him closer, hearing fireworks being launched in the distance. “Me too.”
We held each other as the sky exploded in a riot of colour.