23: MISSED OPPORTUNITY
//
??? // ??? - ??? - 2017 // Seoul, Korea
Featuring Junseo
//
Jun could feel his mom’s camera on his back.
“One, two, three four! Two, two three four! Swirl your leg, count the steps. Four, pull, down and in. Backstep, backstep, swoop and click! And, stop!”
He immediately halted, his posture fell and he began panting quietly, sweat running down his forehead. They were almost at the two hour mark, and dance practice would be ending soon.
“Lee Jinsoo, start from pulling, I need to rewatch you.” Ms. Minji seemed particularly energetic today with the parents recording her every move. “On the four. Ready? Four, pull, down and in—ah! Caught it. When you go in, it’s gotta have more mmph! Turn your head, face forward, Lee Jinsoo. And chin up, chin up, winner’s arrogance! This is contemporary dance, not classical, not romantic. Put some expression in your face, but stick to the strict movements of the body. Say ‘heard, Ms. Minji’ if you understand me.”
“Heard, Ms. Minji,” Jun soullessly repeated after her along with the small chorus of other kids.
Ms. Minji paced over to the other side of the mat. The wall mirror in the back reflected the light from a camera snapping a photo into my eyes, momentarily blinding me. Everyone’s hair was so boringly black. “Kim So-yun, make those arm movements proud and strong! And give me some hips, side, side, nss, nss! Same goes for you, Oh Hannah. And don’t forget, on the swoop, really take up 100% of your personal space bubble. Got it?” The two nodded their heads in affirmation, ghosting her instructed movement for a moment.
She then turned to Jun. “Park Jun-seo, head up. Smile! Your smile will make everything so much better. And when you click, twist. It’s really important for that extra flair.”
“Yes, Ms. Minji.”
“Good, I like that attitude,” she grinned, and then raised her hand into the air. “Everyone, silent on three; one, two, three, snap! All good? Great. Let’s start dancin from the chorus. Ready?” Each kid snapped to attention, their hands by their side in a flash, feet together, ready to move to the first phase. “Go! One, two three, four! Two, two, three, four!”
Like a satisfying wave each kid pulled back on the first measure, flipping around to face the audience of parents who were intently watching their kids dance. Jun put his hands together in a wide clapping stance, and then swung his right arm out to his back and brought his body along, swooping around and rotating a flawless half-circle.
“Step, step! Now pose!”
Jun pushed his arm out on his next stomp in place and again on two short beats, and then posed with his hands out in front of him in the L-shaped camera pose with a smile of his in the center frame.
And fall! Down and back, backstep, backstep—”
His stance fell down, but pushed up with his right leg on a pivoting turn, and bent down again but with his left leg. Arrogance and flair. Jun caught his facial expression melting off into unenthusiasm and quickly fixed it with a smile.
“Swoop and click!”
His arms followed each other in an outwards wave motion to the right, the swoop, and then he snapped his fingers, twisting at the exact same time and moving his body and head in the same smooth movement.
“And that’s it for today, everyone!” Ms. Minji clapped twice, and everyone stood at attention. Jun heard someone’s stomach growl for food. They were all tired and breathing heavily, even though the last part had been extremely short. Dancing was indeed difficult.
…
“You did so great, son! Oh, the footage I got was so wonderful!” Jun’s mother squealed with delight, happily leading him down the sidewalk.
The night was growing closer, and the public was still well awake, bustling with the vibrant and colorful energy of the city. Music burned a hole through Jun’s ears from the ad vans clotted in traffic, boy bands, girl bands, all the same music. Nothing he liked at all. It was rather annoying to listen to.
“Thanks, Mom.”
There wasn’t anything to talk about, so the two walked the relative silence that they found acceptable in each other. As the mother and son paced the streets slowly, a growing noise soon filled the whole streets from somewhere not too far away, and Jun had an inkling about where. It was probably the cheering of a crowd in the giant stadium two streets down.
A frown sprouted on Jun’s lips.
He knew his mother well enough.
“Jun, do you hear that?” His mother’s voice was sparkling with excitement. “The noise is coming from the Awakening Debut Pavillion! Let’s go, it’s free entry there. Hurry now!”
It seemed he had no option, as his mother’s hand guided and dragged him forward in the direction of the annoying music.
“Good thing I have a camera on me. I could get a few fancams in.” Jun rolled his eyes. As if someone would care about photos taken from some random woman whose name was hardly even known at work. “They might sell pretty well if we get there fast! C’mon, Jun, move faster.”
His legs were tired already as he started at a speed-walking pace, with his mother leading his hand forward.
Two minutes later, they found themselves in front of two large security guards at the head of the line into the Pavillion standing in front of the large glass door entrance. Their menacing black visors pointed straight ahead as if Jun and his mom weren’t even there.
“Admission for two, please,” Mom said, her eyes looking in anticipation straight past them. They both gave her attention. The guard to the left put a finger to his temple. A cold feeling swept all over my body, and Jun shivered, the guard to the right was pointing a scanner-looking thing at him and his mom. And then the left figure nodded.
“You may enter.”
Jun replied quietly as they pushed open the doors. “Have a good day.”
They paid him no notice.
The cheering of the crowd was getting louder by the second, and more people were entering through the doors behind them. The line didn’t seem to be getting any shorter.
“Hurry, Jun, we need to find a good spot at the front!”
Jun had no energy to question his mother, and obediently allowed her to pull him still closer to the growing noise. Up the stairs they went, following the groups of people in front, and Jun gripped his other hand onto the railing to steady himself as they ascended.
The deafening noise pierced through his ears as the two finally pushed through the door into the main area. Thousands of people, from the homeless to the rich, made way for each other, the empty stage in the center their main focus. Class and wealth mattered not when there were pretty boys and girls soon coming to grace their eyes and bruise their wallets.
His mom’s excitement far exceeded his own, his heart beating only from the collective dopamine and adrenaline pouring out from the crowds into himself. In no time the two were descending more flights of stairs down to the bottom layer, for what his mom called the “best” seats were the ones where the people were so dense and tightly packed together that they shared the same air. The whooping and screaming of fans for whosoever and whatever was a constant in each layer that they walked down.
“KIM JAE-RIM! KIM JAE-RIM!”
“YOU’RE MY ONLY BIAS, LEE HANEUL!!”
“SI-WOO, I LOVE YOUUUU!”
“FOXEYE! YOU GUYS ARE THE ONLY ONES FOR ME!”
“I WANNA SEE SONG SOO-HYUN!”
“FOXEYE! FOXEYE FOREVER!”
They finally made it to the lowest level, just below the slightly risen stage. Jun could hardly see over anyone’s shoulder, but it didn’t really matter to him, as the screaming was just enough to tell him that nothing was happening. It was already a miracle that the crowd was stagnant and he wasn’t being trampled. If they did start moving, he would probably be in great danger, though not of losing his mom who wore a bright pink shirt and held onto his hand tightly.
Suddenly, all of the lights began to dim all around, each strobe turning off one by one around the stadium in quick succession. Smartly, Jun pushed his ear against his mom’s back, and then his other free hand into his other ear. It was relatively muffled and quiet now, until all the noise in the world decided to crash and explode into his face; the cheering was really going to be the death of him, especially his own mother’s. Foxeye had obviously walked onto the stage, or some screen of them was being displayed. He looked straight up as best as he could with his ear against his mom. There were indeed moving screens.
At last, all but one light was turned off, the singular light pointing onto the stage. Jun still couldn’t see what was going on to make the crowd go so crazy.
Then, without warning, the music started playing.
It began with a midtone synth-esque cowbell syncopated beat, one with groove and style that immediately spurred the crowd’s excitement, hushed to more of a murmur so they could hear the music. It seemed like they knew this song already.
Then the first singer began, his high voice was calm and vibey. “Why aren’t you in my room tonight—I want to hear, you scream and cry… oh!” The loud transitive ‘Oh!’ popped Jun’s ears. His mother had already brought out the camera and was busy filming.
Another singer came in, with a more melodic but slightly deeper voice that forced into a pseudo-falsetto for a strong and clear vocal stunt. “Just shut the door and come in close, I’ll make you happy, and scream, and cry… oh!”
The music took a slight shift, a pulsating synth base that tickled Jun’s ears and made everything vibrate all around. Loud.
“Joyous day, take a backseat, for this steamy sight!” Who he assumed to be the main vocalist belted out.
“Everyday I counted on my fingers, I said—c’mon!”
The synth cut off, and a rapper cut in.
“Let me come over there, wanna show you the deal—see, where you walk is the line, that holds in my desire.” The rap embodied a more talk-over-melody, quick paced and lines easing in after a short delay to each one before. “Desire for what? Wouldn’t you like to know. C’mon, c’mon here and I’ll—”
He cut off as the music took another reversal into an oddly sci-fi type synth base that strung the beats together that worked harmoniously with the main vocalist.
“Baby come to my place! Stand next to that vase, right there—smile for the pic (smile)! Pose with your body (doll)! See your own face, you see why… I want you?!”
The crowd was eating it up, if there was any dancing Jun couldn’t tell over the seas of shoulders, necks, and heads. He wondered how his mother was able to film anything over the noise and crowdedness.
“Baby sit in this chair! I’ll hold you right there! Don’t you move an inch (don’t move)! And don’t you close your eyes (your eyes)! You’ll see with my eyes… I want you!”
Jun frankly wasn’t liking the song. To him it was any other generic song about desire, the lyrics were trashy and uninspired, almost abusive and oddly disgusting that it made Jun want to kick someone. The music was subpar at best, and Jun couldn’t even imagine anyone dancing to such an atrocious song.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
He was bored.
While his mom’s attention was still turned away to the show, the dancing, the singing, Jun lightly pulled her phone out from her back pocket. He opened it, password 260407 for his birthday, and then the phone started ringing.
It was his dad.
A banner notification fell down.
[Yoon-ha. Pick up.]
Jun promptly texted back.
[I can’t
Mom and I are in a concert right now]
His dad replied.
[Son? Junseo?]
Tell your mom this. Now that you’re competing geumdo at the National level, Arc Korea and America have extended their hand to you.
Choose where you want to go]
And suddenly, the music stopped.
Jun had no clue that he was staring at the phone for so long.
Was… this a dream?
“Jun? How was it? So good, eh? Mommy liked it a lot—Junseo, what are you doing with my phone?!”
He snapped back too late, and his mom wrenched the phone away before he could reply. She gasped, “What is this?!” Her fingers went into a flurry.
“Mom, no! No!”
Jun frantically tried grabbing for the phone, but his mom stuffed it back into her pocket. “If I see another text message, and I didn’t send it myself,” she threatened, her face glowering down at her son. Her voice was hard and strained, and Jun could barely hear her over the crowd, “Things are going to get very difficult for you, Jun. Don’t test me.”
//
5:12 P.M. // 10 - 25 - 2023 // Arc - Hospital
Starring Avil Daniase
Featuring Cedrance Manamune, Dean Harvest and Junseo Park
//
—beep
—beep
The cold water didn’t quench my thirst.
“So I guess she isn’t coming,” Ced murmured under his breath, and took back the glass of water from my hands. I laid there, my throat dry, feeling the numbed and swollen part on my fractured cheekbone. Or, at least what was considered permanent damage if those girls hadn’t healed me earlier.
“It’s fine,” I said.
I didn’t think it was fine. There was a little sadness in my chest, an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. I didn’t like it much.
My gaze slid over to Cedrance. His visage and body looked like he was pulled straight from an anime, the strong and handsome protagonist, the hero of the story. But here, there was no good story to tell but two people in a room who didn’t have much to say.
—beep
—beep
“I saw the poster you hung up today,” Ced broke the silence, but I frowned. The poster?
“Why—”
“I didn’t hang it up, though?”
He shook his head. “It’s pretty high on the bulletin board as well. Someone must have done it for you.”
—beep
I sunk back into the bed. “That’s good.”
“Why do you want to go to Maine?”
The walls in front of me were bare and unfriendly, the white stone that served as the foundation for the whole school. Hardly anything around the ward pleased my eyes except the potted plant that sat at the edge of the curtain. Even the plant inside was hardly alive.
—beep
Was this the monotony that all those people at the Saint Hospital felt and saw every day?
“Avil?”
“Yeah?”
He repeated himself.
“Oh.” I regurgitated the lie I told to Gwen. “It’s cuz this guy in my ward wants something from there, and this was just a convenient excuse for me to get out of the school for a bit. Didn’t I already tell you?”
Ced shook his head solemnly. “You know, we’ve been talking less and less ever since you joined the Awakening Program. And you always train with Gwen as well, so I don't get to see you often. You know, you can always…”
His lips formed the next words he was too embarrassed to say.
—beep
—beep
I could always rely on Ced.
“I see,” I said, forcing myself to an apologetic tone, “then I’ll text you more often. It’s kinda hard to juggle homework, sleep, training, and clubs like I’m doing, but I bet you have even more than me. How can you help? Even if you could, there’s nothing you can really do for me, man.”
“No,” he responded quickly, “I mean, I can help you train, study, anything. I can make time in my day.”
Blinking slowly, I yawned. Did he feel some sense of responsibility to me? And anyway, Gwen already did that for me.
“Sure, man. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible—”
The door to the ward opened, and I fell silent. Ced peeked around the corner, and then back to me. “Not anyone you need to care about.”
But my eyes stayed focused on the approaching silhouette behind the curtains. It—he spoke. “E-excuse me, is the person that got p-punched earlier here?”
—beep
—beep
I hesitated to say something. “Who are you?” That was the first question that came to mind. Was he one of the mobbing students in that crowd? Or maybe one of the nice kids that helped me?
“I… was the person that hung up the poster after… t-the small…” The guy stuttered, and I was on the verge of instinctively rolling my eyes. But if he was the person that had the good will to hang up the poster for me… “the b-oy—I mean… the person got punched.”
Not sure of what to say, I grunted.
“Umm…”
He didn’t say anything after, and I realized the level of embarrassment he must have been experiencing at this point.
“S-sorry, I’ll go then—”
“Yes, I’m him,” I responded. He must have had business with me. “What do you want?”
—beep
—beep
I noticed how harsh my words came out, and cleared my throat. “Yeah, sorry, can I help you?”
The silence that trailed after annoyed me a little.
“Uhh,” Another realization came to me, “there’s other people in this room. If you want some privacy, I can get up and—”
“Avil, no.” Ced gave me a look that told me I wasn’t really in the best condition to do that.
I shook my head, tired of this awkward conversation. “Alright, if you have something to say, come close and tell me if you don’t want anyone to hear.”
“... okay.” The silhouette behind the curtains finally showed signs of life and walked towards me. When he came into my view I was immediately struck by a sense of recognition, surprise, awe, and dread.
He was tall, not as tall as Ced was but definitely tall, he had a uniquely old-fashioned haircut, and uninteresting, nervous eyes. The dude was sort-of handsome, and if I had to put a comparison to it it would be the look of a shy boy wearing clothes his mother bought for him the day earlier for a date.
But the last puzzle piece for me was the pale green hair. I mean, at Arc most people had odd arrays of colors, from my purple hair, Ced’s blue, Zen’s white-dipped hair, most of it wasn’t all that special. But combining all of these features; colored hair, shy personality, kinda tall, a mom-bought stiff button-up, and handsome beneath, he even helped me put up the poster after I was punched down, that’s a formula.
A formula for a wholesome character. If anime has ever taught me anything, it’s that the way someone dresses inside the way someone is, the cartoon version of ‘you are what you eat’. My thoughts strayed for a moment, clearly I didn’t think it through when I insulted Aythe so much at the start of the year. But it would be different this time.
—beep
—beep
“Ah, so,” he started, and I tried to stop ogling at him, and resolutely understood how this guy should be treated. I lifted myself up into a sitting position. “Umm…”
“By the way, I’m Avil.” I changed my tone to be pleasant. “What’s your name?”
He seemed to debate as to whether or not he should answer me before saying, “… it’s Dean.”
“So, what do you have to tell me, Dean? You can whisper it to me if you don’t want Ced to hear.” The smile on my face was as forced as the persona, one which was reserved for only children.
—beep
Ced’s silent grimace indicated also seemed aware of my change in behavior, but he played along and said nothing.
Dean, still standing at the edge of the bed, glanced around, his guard up, though the expression on his face wasn’t weary and instead more conflicted. It was about if and how he was going to tell me something.
“It’s okay. I don’t think I need to whisper this.”
A tick in my right eye, my smile faltered. Then what was the point of making him come closer? “Oh, that’s fine. What is it?”
“So…” his face morphed a little bit, on the edge of fear and anger and pity. “The guy that hit you, you remember him?”
—beep
—beep
I nodded, subconsciously touching my jaw. The impact of the punch had spread all over my face, my nose was the most broken and my jaw hurt the most. “Right, that’s Ben.”
Dean continued, gradually warming up to me. “And Ben’s f-friend, the guy saying those… things to you? You know, like—”
“Yeah, I know. None of us want to hear his nasty voice again.” I scoffed, my reservoir of anger still yet to be drained. “That’s Aythe.”
“Okay, Aythe. When he was leaving, after Ben punched you in the face, he said…” Dean looked to the side, almost like into the distance, even though the only distance there was between him and the curtain was 5 inches.
Dean’s voice suddenly changed, darker and more intimidating, “I’ll be paying your girlfriend a visit tomorrow. She ****ed up, almost as much as you did.”
—beep
—beep
—beep
A shiver went down my neck. It felt like he was reading a script, because to me that sounded a lot like what Aythe would say. It probably wasn’t an empty threat. More likely, it was something dangerous, something I definitely wasn’t okay with.
“Girlfriend?” Ced sighed, but I corrected him as calmly as I could, still thinking.
“Bro. Gwen is not my girlfriend.” His face told me he didn’t believe me.
I should probably warn Gwen. I had until tomorrow.
“Thanks for telling me that, Dean.” I didn’t smile this time, scared it would appear shaky.
—beep
Acutely aware of the heart rate monitor machine speeding up, I asked Ced, “Hey, can you call Gwen for me?”
Glad for something to do, Ced agreed.
I waited for a second, and the buzzing sound of the call repeated a couple of times until I was worried. Gwen wasn’t picking up.
He shook his head, an odd look on his face, and tried again.
The second time, she still didn’t pick up.
“Well—”
“Yeah I get it,” my teeth were clenched, slightly noticing that Dean hadn’t left yet. “Call the Saint Hospital front desk.”
Ced nodded and wordlessly scrolled through his contact list. The people at the front had given us instructions to text or call them if we knew in advance that we were going to miss a day, so we had the number.
—beep
—beep
After just a few seconds, someone picked up.
“Hello, this is Andy Coleman from Saint Hospital, how can I help you?”
“Hello, Mr. Coleman,” Ced spoke, but his eyes signaled for me to say something.
“Cedrance Manamune? Ah, hello. Do you need something?”
“Yes,” I said with a little strength in my voice for the watch to pick up the noise, “It’s about Gwen Olynn. Did she volunteer today?”
“Oh. Yes, she came today.”
Then why the hell wasn’t she picking up? I was certain she was able to spare us some time. Was it because Ced was calling and I wasn’t? Knowing Gwen, that shouldn’t have been the problem. She would be well aware that Ced would be with me, and that patients had their watch taken so they could rest.
“Is she still there?”
“Gwen left about an hour ago. She looked fine, just a little more pale and tired than usual, so she might not be feeling well.”
Gwen left because she was sick? Usually there’s no way to tell when Gwen was under the weather. But if she was extra pale and extra tired than normal, that was the sign that she was going through hell. ‘Might not be feeling well’ was a huge understatement.
And also, Arc cars only picked us volunteers up at set and specific times. There was absolutely no way Gwen scheduled for only 1 hour after school, her minimum was 2 a day.
Ced also understood my thought process as he saw the color draining from my face. “Excuse me, did you see the car? What did it look like?”
My fingers clenched the blankets in anticipation. I held my breath.
“I think it was a limousine? It looked expensive. There was an insignia on it that I couldn’t make out. How come?”
Ced’s answer was immediate, his face intense. “Thank you. Have a nice day.”
The call cut off.
Thoughts and emotions raged inside of me.
Blinding rage. Blinding fear.
S***.
God f****** dammit.
Aythe already caught her.