It had barely been a month since officially beginning my course with the London College of Arts – LCA – and while it really was a ton of paperwork, the way it had ignited something in me… I could hardly describe it, even to myself. It felt like a beginning. Like something could happen, like I could be something.
“I’m excited,” I repeated quietly, more to myself.
Becka smiled at me softly, her eyes glistening.
“Babes,” she said, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“I’m proud of me too,” I said softly.
The contradiction made me uneasy; to be so happy about one thing and so sad about another.
Chapter 23
October 29th
Ibit my thumbnail as I watched the loading circle going round and round. With my other hand I fiddled with the hem of my dress. I kept making micro-adjustments to how I was sitting, watching my image in the corner of the laptop screen.
Finally, Jihoon answered, he was smiling, and instantly I felt my shoulders relax.
“Saengil chukha hae!” I said, blushing slightly, my tongue still feeling too clumsy for the language I was trying my damnedest to learn.
His eyes crinkled at the sides, making my heart feel light.
“You’re so cute.”
“Happy birthday, Joon.”
He’d spent his day doing birthday related activities with the other members, and he’d just finished a live. I’d watched briefly with Mum and Dad as we ate lunch. Dad had been endlessly amused by the antics of five grown adults falling over each other, wearing funny hats, whereas Mum had commented that it was ill-advised to point confetti canons at each other’s faces. Hard to argue that point.
“Have you had a good day?” I asked.
“It is better now.”
He smiled at me, and the lightness of the moment was a weight lifted from my shoulders. Too regularly our conversations had been strained. If they happened at all.
I opened my mouth to say something, but just then, Jihoon’s head whipped around to watch something out of view of the camera. He leaned back in his chair and groaned, but the grin on his face told me this was mischief, not inconvenience.
Though, as the subject of the groan came into view, I considered it might be both.
Sungmin came towards Jihoon’s desk holding a little cake dotted with candles. He was singing him happy birthday – in Korean – and Jihoon gamely allowed him to finish, all the while looking mildly aggrieved at the interruption.
Sungmin spotted me on the monitors and offered an enthusiastic wave.
“Annyeong, Kaiya!” He called.
“Annyeong,” I replied, grinning as I waved back.
Jihoon tried to push him away, but Sungmin would not be moved, indicating at the candles and even though I didn’t understand everything, the meaning was clear enough.
Jihoon sighed, but took the little cake, and, holding it so I could see, blew the candles out.
Sungmin clapped and cheered while Jihoon rolled his eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling.
I cheered aswell. Seeing this carefree scene of, well, not domestic bliss but something in the ballpark, was wonderful.
Perhaps things would get better.
“What did you wish for?” I asked once Sungmin had been kicked out.
