Chapter Text
The first thing Im Nayeon does when she gets home is not to scour her fridge for a left-over meal she can pre-heat, nor to lie down in the couch and close her eyes to enter a world where her current reality becomes the part of her subconscious instead of the very dream she’s in. Not even to open her laptop to rewatch “The Perks of Being A Wallflower”, which is something she often does when she feels like consuming audio-visual content but doesn’t have the mental capacity or even interest to absorb storylines that she has never encountered before. It is her comfort movie, although not in the sense that she watches it during her bad days and suddenly she feels like all is right in the world, but in the sense that whenever she watches it, she feels at home, and soothed, and, well, comforted.
The first thing Im Nayeon does today when she gets home is to look around her place. These are the same walls, so white they’re almost the color cream. She also has the same appliances around, with some additions — a vintage radio, frames of photos that don’t include her, and a pair of yellow fuzzy slippers are among them. She sees the windows which are the same height as the walls, draped by these beige-colored curtains that are so tidy and clean that it is just obvious she was not the one who has put it up there, simply because she is not the type to.
She looks around some more, because something has changed. This is the same place, but something has changed, and no, it’s not that there are things now that she didn’t have before. Things that do not belong to her even. That’s not the change she has been overthinking, because that change feels comforting somehow, even though it is something her stubborn heart would never admit to itself.
The door of the comfort room opens, and Sana emerges, wearing only her robe to keep her otherwise naked body from getting exposed. Up on her head she had a towel huge enough to wrap around her hair to help it dry. The click of the door when it closes pulls Nayeon out from the trance she has unconsciously put herself in. She sees Sana. Sees how the pair of yellow slippers are now finally worn. Sana’s lips communicated a smile, but when Nayeon looks at her eyes, and sees that they don’t hold the same sentiment as her mouth, Nayeon knows that the smile is produced out of niceness, out of decorum, of mere habit. Then it clicks to Nayeon, in her head, the change she is looking for–
This is what changed: even though everything is in the same place, the division of it all is still quite apparent. Like how Sana’s lips and eyes are in the same face, but can’t communicate the same sentiments. Ironically, it’s the presence of everything that also makes all of them look so out of place. Nayeon knows this is something she has to address. She can’t go on another day feeling so out of place in her own home, in the presence of her own best friend, who also happens to be her wife.
“Hey. You’re home,” Sana says. Here it is again. The feeling that she did it, greeting her, just to be nice. Nayeon hates forcing Sana to be nice. She has told her about this before, and she would even go so far as to say that for a time, Sana actually learned to just say or do what she meant regardless of whether it was nice or not.
“I am.”
“I hope you haven’t been standing there for too long.”
“Yeah, no. I came home just a while ago.”
“Oh, I see.” Then Sana squints. “Would all hell break loose if you put your everything down and take off that padded jacket?” She says jokingly. Still, it does make Nayeon conscious of her current physical state, looking exactly like that standing emoji in front of Sana, only with a heavy bag that she has been struggling to carry all day; a camera hanging around her neck; and a tripod bag in one hand. Conscious once again of the heftiness of it all, Nayeon’s shoulders begin aching again. Maybe they never stopped. Maybe the aching was only ignored for some time, like when noises get drowned out in the background when you begin to focus on something else.
Nayeon then puts her bag down and takes her jacket off. Basically just doing what Sana is expecting her to do. Had it been someone else, she wouldn’t do this. Let everything unfold as it may, as long as she avoids meeting the expectations of others. But this is Sana, and it has long ago been established between them that she makes Nayeon feel safe. Enough to release a little amount of her stubbornness around her.
Nayeon keeps Sana in her sight even as the latter begins to shuffle around the living room. In the end, she stands in front of the altar they have arranged for Jaebeom, Nayeon’s late brother. It is adorned with flowers, violet and white, as well as candles of the same colors. Every week, these colors change, and they also try their best to see to it that the altar is maintained no matter how busy their days get.
Sana is about to light the candles, and it has become so quiet that the low noise of the match screeching against its case sounds abnormally loud for Nayeon, and everything in this space lacked life that the sulfuric smell reaches Nayeon’s nose within a second with nothing else to take up her other senses. After lighting the candles, Sana flaps the lit match in the air, her eyes fixated on Jaebeom’s photograph. Ephemeral , the word pops up on Nayeon’s head as she watches the flame of the match die down. It means short-lived, or whatever. Nayeon forgot. It is a word she encountered not long ago in the last prose she read, the title of which she can’t recall either.
“How did the filming go?”
This is usually Sana’s question whenever she arrives home. Nayeon works as a freelance camera woman and an assistant director for indie short films. Each project lasts for about 3 to 5 weeks.
“It was fine. Got postponed a bit because of some technical issues,” Nayeon answers. “Were the kids tough on you today?” Nayeon asks. She rests her right elbow on the headrest of the couch, and lets her head gently recline against her cupped hand.
Sana makes a little hum. It takes her a long time to really say anything, but in the end, she says, “A little. But it’s like this on most days, so it’s no big deal. And besides, it’s unfair to expect kindergartens to already behave in the way that adults would have them do.”
Sana has been a primary school teacher for around five years now. This is her first ever job after college, and Nayeon has verbally expressed before her fear of Sana staying in this job until she retires, like the teachers she had in elementary who are still there teaching even today. When Nayeon first brought it up, Sana laughed at that remark, but did not say anything to prolong that conversation. That confirmed to Nayeon’s that Sana did not like talking about her job like that, like it was simply something she did for money and not for the purpose of it. Like Sana was doomed because of it. Since then, Nayeon had only ever expressed support for it.
“You’re really kind. Maybe even too kind.”
Sana’s back is still turned to Nayeon, because the altar is placed diagonally from where Nayeon sat, but she hears the younger woman giggle, which sounds so empty it pinches Nayeon’s heart instead of making her feel relieved. Sana delicately unties the towel from her hair and proceeds to manually tousle her hair with it.
“I’m not too kind, but I do try my best to be kind to everyone. You’re just used to being surrounded by the wrong people.”
That was supposed to be a joke. Nayeon knows it was. They both do. But they are also both aware that it is not really the perfect time for it, only Sana realizes this a little too late. That is, right after the words left her mouth. Silence is deafening again. And Nayeon is about to mediate this discomfort by shifting to another subject, but Sana beats her to it by saying, “Sorry. That was a horrible thing to say. Especially after I said I try my best to be kind to everyone.”
“Hey, I know,” says Nayeon gently, and when Sana finally faces her, she smiles to reassure her. “Don’t worry about it.”
She wants to say something else. Something more. A word, or a sentence that would spark up another discussion, hopefully one that’s laid back. But then she realizes that the subjects they have brought up lately are laid-back, and they are the tense ones.
“Thank you, Nayeon.”
Quietly, Sana enters her room, and all Nayeon could do then is huff, then she messes her hair, pouring a little of her frustration out on it. She stays in the living room for another 5 minutes. This time, she endeavors to nap, but there is this throbbing in her chest that takes up every bit of her attention, and so even with an exhausted body, Nayeon finds it impossible to rest.
And that’s when she barges into Sana’s room, where she finds the woman curled up in her bed, sobbing, but trying to keep her noises down. By the way she clutches her blanket, Nayeon could tell she has a lot within she has yet to let out.
Not long after, Nayeon does realize she seems to have interrupted a moment that’s very personal to Sana. She knows exactly what she’s crying about, because she herself cries for the very same reason at night. Still, she knows they are seeing this thing very differently — Nayeon is mourning her brother, and Sana is mourning the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
Immediately, Sana rises from her melancholy, and tries to wipe her tears as quickly as she can.
“You know, you’re the one who taught me to knock on your door before going in, regardless of whether or not it’s locked,” Sana says in a manner so cold and aloof, it leaves a sharp sting in the air.
Sana had never talked to Nayeon this way before, at least not when they are not engaged in playful banter.
“I’m sorry. I just- I was wondering if we could talk…about all this…?” Sana doesn’t respond, and Nayeon takes it as her cue to go on. “It’s just, we’ve been married for about a month now, and I doubt it has sunk in on both of us. Hell, we’ve barely even done mourning my brother. So really, I understand why it’s difficult. But… I just think that maybe… talking about it can make things a little better. Right now, it feels like we’re together but we don’t really have each other. It's a really horrible feeling, because before we were forced to get married, we were each other’s best friends… and it sucks because sometimes I think about how we would have approached this loss in an alternate reality where we remained as just best friends, and I am nearly certain that we would have done better in there…
“Just, don’t you think it sucks that we lost him, and now we’re on the verge of losing each other, too?”
Nayeon inhales deeply, processing in her head that she has just said all that. It all came out on the spot, and so Nayeon now feels the need to go on about it again. More clearly and more organized this time.
“What I’m really trying to say-”
“I’m not really in the headspace right now,” Sana cuts her off, but the sarcasm has gone away. “I’ll keep in mind everything you said, but I need time to process all of it. In my heart, I understand what you’re saying, but…” Sana looks at her, puffy eyes meeting her own teary pair. “I need time by myself for now. I’m sorry, Nayeon.”
“That’s alright. I understand. Take all the time you need.” Nayeon says, and she means it, and then she gently closes the door. She stays there, though, forehead pressed against the door, as if her feet have been nailed where she stands.
If she came in again–this time, she would knock first–and offered to just take Sana in her arms, and promised that she wouldn’t talk at all so Sana could pretend she wasn’t even there while she took her time, would it help? Because if there’s one thing Nayeon has learned from being friends with Sana for almost 2 years, it’s that even the worst days can become tolerable if they face them together.
In the end, Nayeon just goes to her room, too, and ends up watching “The Perks Of Being A Wallflower” anyway — the novel of which she has also read for about 10 times now — for no other reason than that she has been feeling like Charlie these past days, like she used to before there was herself, Jaebeom, and Sana. Charlie, in the beginning of the novel, had expressed his feeling of being an outsider. And before there was herself, Jaebeom, and Sana, despite her best efforts to get along well with people, she never really felt like she belonged with anyone. No circle of friends, only workmates that lasted throughout a project or two. And when she moved out of the Im family’s residence, she couldn’t quite figure out whether this feeling had changed for the better or for the worse — she was no longer the subject to her parents’ critical standards and constant nagging (at least not in personal), but at the same time, she also no longer met her brother, the one person who saw her for who she was and loved her anyway, as frequently as she used to. It could be a mix of both, but it seemed so complicated to be grateful and despondent at the same time.
When the movie begins playing, her mind also begins to wander, and ultimately goes to the thoughts of her brother. How he had always been Patrick to her Charlie, and how she missed him terribly and the only way to feel better was to let her heart and all her guts burst. And she just spends the rest of the night crying until she falls asleep, the noise of the movie in the background remains.
-
Nayeon’s walk was all she could have hoped for - it was nice outside, the breeze was cool against her face, and she felt how it revitalized her within. She stopped for a bite of street food somewhere, and her mouth still tasted sweet and spicy from the rice cake she had. It would have been one of Nayeon’s favorite nights, if the sky didn’t decide it was a good time to release big drops of rain, and if it hadn’t been for the reason she’s outside in the first place - she was told to grab dinner at her parents’ house, and her mother refused to take “no” for an answer. Well, not like it bothered Nayeon if her absence sent her mother to a coma, but her brother also insisted it was important. Her brother, who never really asked her for anything (it was quite the other way around), so who was she to deny this, his once in a blue moon request? Besides, she liked to give him what he asked for, because it made him happy. She liked making him happy. He was unlike their parents. He was patient with her, and he took time to understand where she always came from, especially when she would get into a fight with their parents. There was one night, it was so bad, and Jaebeom decided he would accompany her in her unit despite their parents’ strong disapproval. This meant a lot, because he was the favorite child for a reason - he was obedient, and he liked to please them. But when it came to Nayeon, his younger sister, he never hesitated to put himself in between, even if it meant risking losing their high regard for him bit by bit.
She tried to wait for a couple of seconds, hoping the rain would stop eventually. After all, it was not really progressing either. But when the rain continued, she knew she had to put the hood of her jacket to some use now. She grunted - she should have just brought her motorcycle instead of walking. Her gut was practically screaming at her to do so, but she wanted to be annoying by making her parents wait. Oh, how hell-bent was she to show them she was only coming partly for her brother, and partly because she was forced.
Eventually, she arrived at the Ims’ residence. It was a huge one, equivalent to the size of manors in the past. It was never a comfortable thing for her to come back here. Apart from her parents, she also hated the way she actually loved it here before, and whenever she came here she got reminded of something so luxurious and comfortable that she had to let go of because her parents were terrible. This was why she never really entered her room again - whenever she went here it’s often for some family dinner whenever her mother was in the mood to pretend that they were a happy family, but even those invites were not always granted. If Nayeon had to count, perhaps it was only 3 to 5 times that she came back here after deciding to live on her own.
The maid opened the door for her, and she brushed her hood off as she entered. She paced to the dining area, but they weren’t there. She squinted. Bit her bottom lip. She knew exactly where they could be, but dinners were only held there when they were trying to impress people.
What the heck are they on about this time?
The sliding door just to the left of the dining area led to the patio, which then led to the outdoor pool. That’s where she’s headed.
The moment she’s out there, her hands went uneasy in the pockets of her jacket. Once again, she’s faced by something that she loved but had to leave behind for independence and freedom.
The rectangular pool was bordered by a lawn area big enough for 5 steps or so. The lighting system was on, highlighting the light blue of the water. Aside from the pool itself, there were also lounge chairs, and in the opposite corner, there was a space for the residents to just have coffee and talk, surrounded by lush greenery to keep it refreshing and safe from the heat of the sun. Everything was neatly presented and ultimately still the same - her parents were never really fond of changes.
Somebody she had never seen before - a man in his 50s, probably - was grilling by the lawn, while the others, including her parents, were busy preparing the dining table they had in the very patio she’s standing in. She nearly scoffed watching them - how pretentious. They didn’t know shit about setting up a table.
Her mother was laughing with a woman whose back was to Nayeon, so she couldn’t really see her face, but by the way she dressed, and the way her hair was styled, she assumed she was the same age as her mother. When her mother turned to this woman, talking to her, she saw Nayeon past the woman’s shoulder, and immediately, the emotions in her eyes changed, and Nayeon watched as the muscles in her face tensed. She probably was not happy to see her in her homey look, dressed exactly just like the daughter they didn’t want. She did not even try to at least look presentable for whatever the commotion was tonight.
“That’s our daughter, our youngest,” Mrs. Im nodded to where she stood, and the other woman immediately turned to see her.
“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Nayeon.” She bowed respectfully, and the woman went to her, held her hand, and bowed back subtly.
“Nayeon. I’m Mrs. Minatozaki.”
Minatozaki? That’s a foreign surname.
Despite the confusion, Nayeon smiled. The woman’s hands were gentle with her. Very unlike her own mother’s. “Nice to meet you.”
Mrs. Minatozaki nodded, and said it back, and then followed it by, “Was it raining outside?”
Nayeon was surprised, then scanned herself just a little to see what must have given it away, then she saw the drops of water all over her hoodie. Nayeon just let out an awkward giggle. “Yeah, it was. A little.”
“Your head was not soaked, was it?” She carefully patted Nayeon’s head to feel for a sign of wetness up there.
This gesture. So simple. And yet it sparked warmth within Nayeon, like an enormous flower in her chest, glowing yellow, opening up.
“Not at all.”
“That’s good. Otherwise, you’d get sick,” Mrs. Minatozaki reminded her kindly. “Well, I have to go back to my task, so we can eat soon.”
Nayeon wanted to say that she had no idea why her parents were letting the visitors set up the table, and that she’s sorry her parents were insane like that, but she held her tongue, because this woman did not deserve to have her night ruined by knowing that her relationship with her parents was not really ideal, as well as the impression she had of Mr. and Mrs. Im; she looked like the kind of person who would easily feel bad about something like that.
“Sure,” was all she said.
Mrs. Im was waiting for her turn to talk to her daughter, and the moment Mrs. Minatozaki made her exit, she came closer to her own daughter. The warmth in Nayeon’s chest, it turned out, was not meant to last very long. The moment she saw her mother, it felt as though the glowing flower shrunk in on itself again.
Mrs. Im was not very tall nor big - in fact, she was a rather small woman, and people always said that Nayeon took after her in this aspect - but her perfect posture, and consciousness of her own power, made it feel like she was towering over you whenever she’s near.
“Did I or did I not make it very clear that this was a formal dinner?” Mrs. Im asked, and her voice was hushed to not call attention, but she’s using that tone again. The one that held authority, but the kind of authority that had just been challenged or disobeyed. The kind that was angry.
“Really? You're telling me that while you're busy letting these people in fancy suits and dresses do all the work setting up your table? Cute definition of a formal dinner.” Nayeon bit back. She would always bite back.
“Go up to your room. And change.”
“I have zero clothes left here.” That’s a lie. Nayeon had a lot of clothes still left there, because sometimes, when she knew her parents weren’t home, she liked to have an excuse to come here, and so she never really fetched all of her clothes in one go even though she definitely was capable of it.
“Do it at least for your brother,” said her mom a little more firmly.
Nayeon reciprocated her mother’s authoritative gaze. “Me going at all is for my brother. The way I dress? That is for me.”
Jaebeom showed, and Nayeon breathed a sigh of relief.
"Mom,” he called, approaching. “She just arrived and you're already going for her neck.” He was now standing between them.
"This is why she's constantly acting out, because you're letting her get away with it," Mrs. Im just rolled her eyes and went back to the table.
Jaebeom and Nayeon were left there, and they took a slow stroll around the pool, away from their parents, and the parents of someone whose surname was Minatozaki.
“She’s never gonna stop bullying me.”
“She’s not bullying you.”
“She is.”
“She cares about you. That’s how she shows it.”
“Oh, please. She cares about herself, and our name. She's always trying to make me feel like I don't belong here unless I play by her rules. Besides, she cares about you, too, but she’s a completely different person to you.”
“Well… you know, mothers can be naturally more fond of sons than daughters.”
“And that’s supposed to make it okay?” Jaebeom seemed to see her point now, and he just nodded. She continued, “and it’s not just mom, you know that. Dad, too. They’re both fond of you because they were expecting a baby boy, and it turned out you were a boy. Then they expected a boy again, but came yours truly, a girl. Equipped wiith a vagina and not a damn penis. I’ve been a disappointment to them before I was even born.” Nayeon kicked the grass. “Where were you anyway?”
"I had to grab the wine from the car. Totally forgot it there, I was just so excited."
“What’s this all about anyway?” Nayeon looked back and pointed to the dining table.
“I’m getting engaged.”
Nayeon stopped walking and just looked at Jaebeom with a skeptical look. She wanted to laugh, but he hadn't dropped the, “I’m kidding, that was a joke” line, so she really couldn’t laugh yet, and so her lips quivered from holding back.
Jaebeom, noticing that he was now three steps ahead of her, turned around, and said, “that’s not a joke, by the way.” Nayeon’s facial expression changed. “I really am getting engaged.”
This time, Nayeon’s jaw dropped. First, at the news. Second, at the way he just casually dropped that news.
“You know, Jaebeom, it’s a good prank but drop it right now.” She insisted, obviously in the denial stage. She then walked beside him again so she can shove him slightly. But when Jaebeom only chuckled, and draped his arm around his sister and caressed her shoulder as if to help her process the news gently but surely, Nayeon knew then it was actually true. Still, she refused to accept this. “You don’t even have a girlfriend!”
“I do now,” he said.
Their stroll had become slower now. Jaebeom understood Nayeon’s need to slow down. He understood that her mind was already running at such a speed that her physical body might not be able to catch up.
Eventually, Nayeon spoke again, "How the hell even?"
"Well, it was pure business at first. You know mom and dad. I guess they just found the business partners for life that they've been looking for in her parents, and they wanna secure the partnership as tightly and as soon as possible."
Nayeon made a face in disbelief. “ Of course it’s their doing! Be honest with me, they’ve been setting you up with other girls before this, haven’t they?”
“Yeah. Never explicitly. Like sometimes they would tell me they got a friend to visit, and coincidentally this friend had a successful business, and also a daughter who’s in my age range. But I knew what they were doing.”
"And this thing with the girl you’re marrying… since when was this?"
"Around 3 weeks ago, I think?"
Nayeon punched her brother’s stomach lightly, causing him to jerk back. "And nothing was mentioned to me?!"
Jaebeom was laughing, the little crescents in the corners of his eyes showing. "I wanted to surprise you."
Nayeon was even more confused now, because why was he talking as if her one ultimate dream for her brother was for him to get married when in fact, if it had been her decision, she would never allow her brother to marry. He was all she ever really had, and it might be selfish, but the thought of someone else taking up Jaebeom’s time made her want to shoot herself.
“Yeah, I am surprised, all right.”
"Hey, come on. I really like her. And that's why I wanna take it slow.”
“This is slow to you? 3 weeks of knowing each other and you two are getting engaged!” Nayeon really was bewildered by the sheer absurdness of it all.
“Yeah, this is slow to me. Mom and dad would have had us marry today if it were their decision. But we've decided we want to spend more time being boyfriend and girlfriend before jumping into it."
"And our parents let you?"
"Yeah. I said that's the only thing I want in exchange."
"What's her name?"
"Sana."
"Sana?" The way it rolled off her tongue was foreign.
"Yeah. Japanese."
There was silence. Nayeon noticed they had just circled around the pool area, and were now slowly getting closer to the dining area again, only on the opposite side of where they came from.
"Well, I wonder what the hell you'd have done if you didn't like her," she said. "Would you still marry her then?"
Jaebeom only hummed and nodded. This sent Nayeon's eyes rolling in pure disbelief. Her brother already knows what that eye roll and the absolute frown on her face were saying. She had always been vocal about how she didn't understand why her brother did everything for his parents. The only time he would do something for himself was if their parents had wanted it, too.
Despite all these words of protest swarming Nayeon’s head, she said nothing but, "Well, thank Heavens you like her then,” not wanting her brother to feel unsupported. Besides, she could tell he really was happy, and that was all that mattered.
They were back at the table in a few moments more. Everything was already set up and everyone was already seated, but the dinner could not commence because Sana was still nowhere to be seen. Being impatient and unable to sit still for a long while, Nayeon’s leg became restless. She waited a few seconds more, before she broke and said, “I gotta go to the restroom.”
“Nayeon,” her mother said. It was quiet but also hostile. Next to her mother sat her father, who didn’t need words to communicate to Nayeon that she was getting on his nerves again.
“What? Am I supposed to hold my bladder like a champ?”
Her parents could not really do anything about it, and Nayeon knew it was because they could not afford making a scene in front of the Minatozakis. On the hallway to the restroom, away from the eyes of the older ones, Nayeon let out a sigh of relief. The truth was, she’s not really feeling like peeing. It’s just whenever she’s around her parents, she feels like even her breathing has to be done in a certain way, a way that would please them, which is very gently and quietly, like she’s not really breathing at all, and as if putting a little more pressure on it would make them snap.
She still went to the restroom, though. The one they had on the first floor of their house. It was designed like a public restroom with three cubicles, and was mainly built for their visitors. Entering the restroom, she was surprised to see someone else. A woman who’s more or less her age. Nayeon’s head jolted back in reflex, and the other woman, shocked, got down from the sink to the ground. She caressed her skirt to soften the creases it got from sitting down.
The girl cleared her throat the same time Nayeon closes the door.
"I'm guessing you're Sana?"
The girl did not answer, really, but she nodded. Nayeon knew then that she was nervous, and that she felt fragile in Nayeon's presence, like Nayeon's big personality was going to suck her in and she would just let it happen. So Nayeon made an effort to be aware of her facial features, and soften them as she faced Minatozaki Sana. "I'm Nayeon, Jaebeom's sister."
Finally, Sana smiled, too, albeit nervously. Her fingers fiddled with each other.
"I can't seem to get out of here. I'm so nervous."
Nayeon was, by then, washing her hand on the sink. "What if you get out of here with me, would that help?" Nayeon could only hope it came out more in a friendly rather than a superior tone. But seeing as Sana only scratched the back of her head and was still unable to make eye contact, she figured the latter was probably what happened. "It's our parents, isn't it?"
Sana’s silence confirmed it for Nayeon, but the former was quick to defend herself. "Sorry. Don't get me wrong. I think they're nice, and all. After all, Beomie is a real gentleman and I doubt he'd grow up to be that person if his parents weren't great. But just... I'm not used to this. I feel like I'm gonna get grilled with questions, and like I'm supposed to impress them.."
Nayeon wanted to say that it was okay, and that Sana could tell her that her parents reminded her of the devil and she would passionately agree, but she felt like it wouldn't really help. "That's alright. My parents do give that impression on most people, but for sure you'll do good. They already like you, especially because my brother does, too,” she tried to assure her instead. “Believe me, they might even be the ones to go all out just to impress you and make you forget that backing out is an option." Nayeon joked, and this earned a giggle from Sana. Then, the latter lets out a deep exhale.
“Alright, guess we’ll see how it goes. Hopefully I do well.” She straightened her skirt again.
"Yep, that’s more like it! Let's go?"
Sana took a little more time composing herself before they came out of the restroom together.
When they returned to the table, Jaebeom welcomed them warmly, and he even got up from his seat to greet Sana, who took the empty chair reserved for her next to Jaebeom. "Well, I suppose I don't need to introduce you to each other anymore," he said, referring to his girlfriend and his sister. The delight in his words was evident, then he turned to Sana. “Hey, you okay?” He asked in a whisper, but Nayeon, sitting on the other side of Jaebeom, managed to hear it. Nayeon never knew Sana’s answer to that question.
Soon enough, the dinner began. There was first a talk about how Sana and Jaebeom looked good together, and then Sana’s mother asked Nayeon if she had anyone special for herself, and she only smiled and shook her head no politely. Then, eventually, the parents just began to flatter one another, and then talked about their ideas for the anticipated wedding. And Sana and Jaebeom had withdrawn into a conversation of their own. And then the steak was suddenly not as appetizing for Nayeon as it was just a few moments ago.
As the dinner concluded, the subject of business and “merging” was everything they could talk about, and that’s when Nayeon stopped listening altogether. Jaebeom called the maid to clean up the table, while their parents were now seated on the other side at the coffee area near the pool, conversing probably still about business and “merging”.
“Nayeon, how’s your short film going?” Jaebeom asked. The three of them sat on the lawn now, each of them had a canned beer in hand.
This caught Sana’s attention, but because Jaebeom sat between the two of them, she had to lean forward to be able to see Nayeon.
“You make films?”
Nayeon had just taken a sip of her beer, then she held up a finger, as if she was about to say something very important — “it’s not my short film. I’m only the camera woman. And to answer the testosterone’s question, it’s going well.”
“How’s the pay?” Sana asked.
“So-so. I’m really just in it for the fun of it.” Nayeon once again lifted her beer to her lips for a sip.
“Did you study film in college?”
“Not really. I had Social Sciences in college.” Then Nayeon smiled at Sana for a reason she couldn’t point out then, but whenever she looks back at it now, she realizes she smiled at Sana because she was touched by the genuine interest she had in Nayeon.
“But,” Jaebeom said, “She’s always been passionate about films. Hell, she would force me to be her actor when we were kids!”
Sana laughed, and her face compressed beautifully, and there were these delightful creases that formed above her nose and they pulled the inner corners of her doe eyes slightly downward. And Jaebeom was smiling ear-to-ear looking at her, and Nayeon was watching the two and she was suddenly very aware of the attraction that her brother and this woman felt for each other.
“He couldn’t even say no. He was older than me and he couldn’t say no to me.” Nayeon added, and the laughter was doubled.
“Only because you’re impossible to say no to! You’ve had a princess attitude since birth.”
Sana was genuinely listening, and seeing this, Nayeon felt naturally inclined to tell more. “What’s funnier is how he was really the only actor I had, so he had to play all the roles in the film.”
“And she had, like, 8 characters minimum in each freaking film. Imagine how exhausting it was for me!”
“Well,” Sana managed between her giggles, “I would love to watch those films.”
“And you will one day. I still have their copies!”
Jaebeom was quick to protest. “No way!”
Nayeon, all smug and playful, shrugged and said, “I’m sorry, brother. I’m afraid your girlfriend is bound to see little you in your undies while pretend-fishing.”
Later on, when their beers were done, Jaebeom told them he was going to join their parents’ conversations. But you don’t have to , Nayeon said. I want to. It’s only polite. Plus, I have to show my baby’s parents that I have initiative and a sense of responsibility , he said. And Nayeon was the one to push him away hearing the last bit of it.
Nayeon joked about her brother being a cringey boyfriend and feeling bad for Sana for having to be the one to bear all that, then the conversation flowed from one subject to another again, and they just went with it. Then they talked about where they lived, and Sana said she envied Nayeon because she had a good view of the city in her unit.
“I wish I had that, too. Or at least had the view of the stars. But this really tall establishment is right next to my complex, and that’s my only view.”
Nayeon pouted. “Sounds depressing.”
“It is.”
Then Nayeon had an idea, and she said, “I know a place where you can see the stars. Come.”
Nayeon was first to get up from the couch and walk up the stairs, and Sana was just right behind her.
“Wow. Fancy,” Sana said, looking around the room. “Is this your father’s office?”
“Not really, but this is where he entertains
really
important people, like potential business partners and all that. He calls it the ‘drawing’ room. He’s very traditional.”
As quietly as possible, Nayeon closes the door, and her being discreet was immediately picked up on by Sana.
“We’re not supposed to be here, are we?”
Nayeon smiled. “Nope. But we’re not going to be here for a long time.” She started towards the tall curtains situated at the opposite side of the room, and when she cleared them away, a double door beneath was revealed. She opened both doors, and when the wind washes over her face, she took a deep breath, and she felt how it still carried the cold of the rain that poured earlier. “ This is our destination.” Nayeon then turned to look at Sana, who remained frozen where she had left her, then she motioned her head towards the huge space where the opened doors led to. “Come. The stars are majestic from here.”
Sana finally moved from where she stood, and as she ushered closer and closer to the balcony, and felt the same wind that Nayeon was feeling against her skin, she also smiled wider. Sana was first to step out onto the balcony, and Nayeon followed and closed the door. For a while they just stood there, Nayeon just basking in the ambience, and Sana not knowing where to look first — at the beautiful, calming city lights below, or at the stars twinkling above?
Then a song began playing, and Sana traced the music down to Nayeon’s phone that was now sitting atop the balustrade. The volume was just loud enough to be heard, and mellow enough to not disturb the mood. The melodies of the song from the very beginning were so ethereal, and Sana felt as though her heart sank endlessly in a way so pleasant that she knew she would always remember this night and this song.
“Does the music bother you?”
“Not at all. It’s a beautiful song,” Sana commented.
“Yeah? It’s ‘Holocene’. By Bon Iver,” said Nayeon, and she sounded proud of introducing the song to Sana. “I like to listen to his songs at night.”
Sana only smiled, then began to sway her head slowly, going with the rhythm of the song they were listening to. At one point, she closed her eyes, until Nayeon spoke again.
“Ugh, this would have been so perfect if we still had our beers,” said Nayeon. “Which reminds me…”
Sana averted her eyes from the stars and towards Nayeon, intrigued once again by whatever idea that was dancing in her head.
“Hold on, I’ll be back in a second.”
Back in the drawing room, her father had a mini fridge where he stored the most expensive drinks he had, all reserved for his most important guests, and as she took a bottle of Schorschbräu Schorschbock 57 (only one, because it had high alcohol content, and the goal was only to further romanticize the ambience and the view, anyway), she could imagine her father hyperventilating from anger if he ever found out. On top of the fridge was her father’s silver bottle opener, which she put to use as quickly as she picked it up.
When she returned to the balcony, Sana was still looking out at the view, only this time, she was leaning forward towards the balustrade, trusting the stone material with her weight. By the time Nayeon reached the spot next to Sana, she had drunk from the bottle.
“Hope you're not too uptight about sharing drinks with others,” Nayeon said, handing the beer to Sana. Instead of answering, Sana just took the bottle and guzzled down three satisfying swigs. Nayeon raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. “Alright. Point taken.”
Sana handed the drink back to Nayeon, and Bon Iver’s song played for the second time. “I’m guessing we’re not supposed to be drinking that either?”
“Correct.”
Shoving Nayeon playfully as she chuckled, Sana said, “you’re quite the rebel. Such an opposite to your brother.”
“Also correct.” Nayeon pursed her lips in an attempt to conceal her suddenly quivering self-assurance — she was getting along so well with Sana so far and she felt like she was actually making a new friend, so it would be disheartening if she ended up ruining it because she had this constant and insufferable urge to piss her parents off. “Do you not associate yourself with nonconformists?” She tried to give this question a touch of mischief, tried to make it sound as casual as possible.
“Not really. But then again, I don’t associate with people all that much in general. On a personal level, I mean.” Sana cleared her throat. “When did this start?”
“What?”
“This whole nonconforming thing?”
“Since I became a teen. But there was a time when I wanted my parents’ approval, too, you know. That’s when I was a kid.”
“Hm… kids do love approval.”
“Mhm. But eventually, their approval just didn’t feel as worth it as the feeling of calling myself my own , and really mean it.” There was silence, and Nayeon hesitated if she should go on, and she drank again.
“Yeah, I get it.”
“You don’t seem to have a problem with your parents, though. I mean, you never made a remark about them being insufferable.”
Sana giggled, “well, they’re not insufferable. Actually, they’re very giving and permissive to me. I guess it’s because I’m an only child.”
“Sounds nice. I mean, not being an only child — I really love my brother — but having parents like yours.”
Not knowing really how to respond to this, Sana offered her a smile and just said, “Thanks.”
“Do you think, then, that behaving the way I do is a turn off?”
Sana almost scoffed — “What? No, no. Not at all!” She was waving her hand and shaking her head no at once. In that instant, Nayeon first saw Sana’s fear of being misunderstood, which she would realize, weeks later, stemmed from her fear of getting into trouble with anyone. “In fact, I think it’s pretty courageous.”
Nayeon’s eyes flickered just as her ears perked up. That was an answer she did not expect, and the genuine delivery of it was another thing she could not believe she just received.
“Because my parents had always given me everything I needed and wanted, I can’t even imagine myself going against their wishes. Not that they asked for anything so big and so horrible… but…” Sana cleared her throat and blinked rapidly, which Nayeon now knows as Sana’s way of collecting herself. “How do I explain this — it’s like, I just know they have this certain idea of me, and I just grew up identifying with that…?”
“Yeah, I get it, don’t worry,” said Nayeon, and a reassuring smile adorned her face.
The conversation flowed again, and they just went with it again. And Nayeon discovered that Sana was a kindergarten teacher, but not the answer to her silent question of whether or not Sana truly enjoyed what she did, or if she was only doing it because it was the idea that her parents had of her.
Before the night ended, Nayeon had gotten back to her unit, but she was not the same person who left earlier at 6 o’clock in the evening. The Nayeon that came back had warmth swelling in her chest, and this warmth expanded whenever her phone buzzed with notifications from the group chat that consisted of herself, Jaebeom, and her newfound friend, Sana. And even though it was probably just her brother sending silly pictures and videos he randomly saw on the internet, and Sana laughing at them, Nayeon felt like she really was part of something again, and not only for a filming project, or for anything impersonal. She was a part of a promising friendship, and she felt like Charlie again, when he was walking between Sam and Patrick, and he felt for the first time that he belonged somewhere. And that was all she could feel, like how Bon Iver’s music was all she listened to, for the following days.
-
Nayeon wakes up lying face down. Her laptop is open. Its tiny orange indicator light blinking, signaling that it is in sleep mode. Before doing anything else, she shuts down her laptop, sits up, and stretches her arms. As she opens the door of her room, she immediately smells eggs and bacon and coffee. And Nayeon knows it's Sana in the kitchen because she can also smell the freshly made bread, warm, scrumptious, and inviting.
Approaching Sana with a smile on her face, Nayeon remarks, "That smells so good. Might start devouring everything while you're still cooking."
Sana, who is now stirring a pot of tomato soup, laughs and replies, "I know that's a joke, but I can totally imagine you doing that. That is something you would do."
"You practically called me a glutton, but alright, I'll let it pass," Nayeon teases.
Sana's laughter grows louder, and Nayeon sits on the counter, just watching Sana in her element after what felt like a decade. And everything feels right, and it reminds her of when she listens to violin covers of her favorite songs and the musician captures even the subtlest melodies, leaving no empty, unsatisfying gaps. She has missed this, because she felt as though after Jaebeom’s passing away, Sana just stopped being happy to the point where she even stopped doing things that brought her joy as though she was purposely keeping herself from feeling happiness again. One of these things was cooking, so they had resorted to ordering separate meals for some time. Sana had chosen to be in despair, and while Nayeon understood why, and still does, it was also challenging for her to adjust, especially because it was the first time she dealt with that Sana — it felt like navigating her own home, but with eyes blindfolded for the very first time. But now, seeing her this way again, none of that seems to matter. What matters is this moment when everything feels warm and good, and like it's the beginning of better days ahead.
After preparing their breakfast, Nayeon helps Sana set the table, and a sense of harmony fills the air, as if they have rediscovered the rhythm that once defined their friendship. Occupying her usual seat at the table, a surge of serenity washes over Nayeon, enveloping her in a comforting embrace of familiarity. They have shared countless meals at this very spot. Before their marriage, this unit was a haven where they spent hours together. But since their marriage, and since her brother’s passing on, this is the first time they eat together, and actually want it.
"I think I made the bread a little too salty," Sana admits.
Nayeon takes a small bite of the bread, its mild sweetness melts in her tongue, and for a while all she can think of is how she has actually memorized the taste of the bread that Sana’s hands make because its taste epitomizes almost perfectly her mellow disposition. She says, "I think it's okay. Maybe you're just not used to the taste of food anymore."
Sana falls silent, as does Nayeon. Earlier by the kitchen counter, Nayeon saw the pile of energy drinks and coffee cans in the trash can, and since she did not consume them, it can only mean that Sana did.
"Sorry," Sana suddenly apologizes.
This catchest Nayeon off guard as she savors a spoonful of Sana's homemade tomato soup. The rich aroma fills her nostrils, mingling with the tangy flavor that dances on her taste buds. A moment of pure bliss washes over her, but quickly fades when she looks at Sana. The latter, while holding a spoonful of the same soup, can’t be bothered to actually bring it to her mouth for a taste.
Sana goes on, "I know I haven't been my best self lately, and it's such a struggle dealing with me." Sana continues eating, trying to appear casual and not create unnecessary tension.
"I think you've been behaving like a human being experiencing grief," Nayeon says, her appetite being sucked away slowly. "I understand." She puts a hand over Sana’s, squeezes it gently, and then… "Listen, I know this situation is far from ideal. My brother, who was your fiancé, is gone, and now you're married to me. And all of this happened within two months, and we're both just trying our best to cope with the changes in the best way we know...
"But we have to make this work. For him."
The truth is, Nayeon has a lot more to say. She wants to tell Sana that they have somehow grown apart, and that is another subtle loss she grieves every day. The words yearn to climb out of her throat, roll off her tongue, and just be put out into the air. But as she looks at Sana, she feels something holding her back, like an anchor for her emotions. She can't risk being overwhelming, especially now that Sana is making efforts to reconnect.
Before answering, Sana looks up from her plate to Nayeon. Her eyes are red and teary, and her lips are quivering slightly, and in the midst of all the heaviness she probably is feeling, she manages to take Nayeon’s comforting and generous hand in hers, and say, "We will. We'll make this work, and we'll be okay."
Nayeon nods with conviction, and her other hand reaches for Sana’s cheek, and she allows this hand to communicate the fondness she possesses for her. "Yeah. One day at a time."
"One day at a time," Sana repeats, a proof that she understands. An indirect assurance for Nayeon that, from this point on, she will strive harder to work with her through all of it. "You know, I try to visit him every day," Sana says, and Nayeon, albeit surprised with her attempt to open up, listens attentively and even seems to forget all about the food. "But there are days when it's just too painful, and that pain is too much to bear, so I choose to just go home. But then, when I open the door, the altar for him is the first thing I see, and it hurts all over again." Sana's tears begin to fall down, and she stops talking.
Nayeon rises from her seat and finds her way to Sana, and secures her in the comfort of her arms. This embrace is so liberating to Sana, and as she clings back on Nayeon’s waist, more tears begin to flood her cheek. Despite feeling a knot in her throat, Nayeon inhales deeply and remains quiet for a while, stroking Sana’s head and just making space for her and her emotions.
"Would you like to spend the following days at your place?" Nayeon eventually suggests. Her voice is still quiet, careful to not disturb Sana’s emotions any further. "We could use a little change of environment."
"It's okay,” Sana pulls away then wipes her eyes with the back of her finger. “Your parents won't approve anyway. You know they're really strict about me staying at your place instead of vice versa. Besides, in two weeks, our shared unit will be ready, and we'll move in."
"Who says my parents have to know?"
Sana looks up from her plate, and her eyes show interest in the suggestion of keeping it from Nayeon's parents. And when she sees Nayeon's smile, she remembers why she has always been comfortable with her rebellious nature from the very beginning — Nayeon often takes Sana along on the ride, adding excitement to her otherwise monotonous and stagnant life.
“I would love that, Nayeon. Honestly.”
“Then you have it, Sana.” Nayeon pats her cheek gently.
Nayeon goes back to her seat, and the chattering fills the air again. Sana's voice comes alive as she describes her students' nature-inspired art pieces — adorable creatures crafted from twigs, leaves, and colorful petals — which is a project she tasked them to accomplish. And Nayeon is just there, listening and letting out occasional giggles — more at the way Sana is telling her stories than the stories themselves — happy to rest her mind as she feels everything around them begin to fall back into place.