There are recurring proverbs in cultures around the world that indicate a certain universal nature to specific parts of the human experience.
It never rains but it pours.
Bad things never walk alone.
Poor luck comes in threes.
All roundabout ways of saying when life sucks, it sucks hard.
A few months ago, if you had asked me to write a personal profile, it would have said I’m a lawyer with a strong work ethic and not much else. It wouldn’t have touched on the fact that I am also apparently appalling at self-reflection—although looking back, the terseness of that mock profile makes it abundantly clear—and ghastly when it comes to handling a breakup with finesse.
Apparently I’m also a masochist. Instead of trying to climb out of this funk, I lie on the couch with my greasy bangs hanging limp on my forehead and watch all StarLune’s videos, eyes glued to Jihoon. Then, for fun, I torture myself with their latest online chats. Kit and Daehyun eat some gimbap, and Xin shows about half a million people a loophole in some video game. It’s all very normal guy stuff played out in front of a huge audience with long pauses to stare at the screen and respond to fan comments.I sit through all of them in the hopes of seeing Jihoon. Or hearing his name.
Tragic, but at least there are no witnesses to my shame.
A new video was posted last night, and it’s subtitled, so I debate between heating up a box of frozen simulated chick’n nuggets, which is all the cooking I can handle, or watching it. My laptop takes the decision out of my hands through the miracle of auto-play. Looks like the nuggets will have to wait twenty-eight minutes and seven seconds.
It’s Sangjun, whom I never met properly but is now as familiar to me as my own family from the amount I’ve seen him through various media. He looks drained, dark eyes peeking over a white face mask he eventually tugs under his chin. I sip from the can of warm, flat Diet Coke balanced on my chest beside my laptop and listen to a man I don’t know speak in a language I don’t understand.
When the door opens behind him, he seems honestly shocked to see Jihoon. I am, too, so much so that I jolt upright and topple the can on my lap. Ignoring the pop soaking my sweatpants, I bring the screen closer as my heart beats hard enough to drown out what they’re saying. Like Sangjun, Jihoon’s eyes are a bit puffy and ringed with purple. He’s bundled in an oversize blue jacket with the hood pulled up so far, it almost comes down to his eyebrows, and his hands are tucked in the front pockets.
The chat to the left goes even faster than before with little star and moon emojis andmiss you oppa!My eyes toggle between the subtitles, the chat, and watching Jihoon before I give up and admit I’m going to watch the damn thing at least three times to focus on each one.
At least there’s not a lot to parse out because it’s banal. Jihoon says he was in the Newlight building doing some work and wanted to say hi to Starrys. The two men stare at the screen, frowning occasionally at the comments and briefly triggering my regret that Jihoon’s band members have been pulled into our mess. Then Jihoon’s mouth gives a sad twist, quick enough to miss had I not been staring unblinkingly. He gives a littlewave and says he’s off to the studio. Having mastered the subtitles and feasted my eyes on what little of Jihoon I can see, I replay for the comments.
I should not have done this. Most of them are about how much they love StarLune in a variety of languages, but occasionally someone will write in English.
Is that woman still bothering you, oppa? You deserve better.
She should be in jail.
Love us first, Jihoon.
I’m glad you’re okay, Min. She was a bad person.
Then I see the comment that made Jihoon react.Min oppa, you look sad. Don’t be sad. You deserve happiness.
I go back to the video and notice something I missed because I was looking at his face. Jihoon makes the tiniest gesture with his hand before he goes, touching his thumb and his pinkie together. It’s the same one we decided on, the silentI’m thinking about you.
I slam down the cover of my laptop. That’s enough for today.
After two more days, trial and error shows me the exact formula for responding with the least amount of effort to keep the people in my life off my case. This gives me plenty of time to lie on the couch and think big thoughts, which include but are not limited to:
My career, which is in tatters and I should attend to posthaste.
My reputation, now trashed by Newlight. At least the gossip is dying down, helped by the firm Alex hired that specializes in restoring online reputations.
New apartments I should be viewing and don’t want to.
Jihoon, who hung me out to dry.
Climate change, an enormous problem I contribute to by existing.
My online shopping, which I should chill on because no one needs seven pairs of sweatpants and consumerism leads directly to the point above. Also I don’t have a job to pay for it.
Dad, who is after me daily about Yesterly and Havings and has offered to intercede with Richard.
Phoebe, because I don’t want to fight with her.
