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This was the moment Jiwan was dreading. Taking the last few steps up to her parents’ house. She paused in front of the peeling blue door and inhaled a shaky breath.
You’ll be alright. They love you no matter what.
Jiwan smiled, letting Sol’s words sink comfortably into her heart. Of course, she didn’t believe them. Not entirely. Coming home to tell your parents you’re dropping out of art school doesn’t exactly warrant love or support. Not to mention…
You don’t have to tell them about us.
The warmth in her chest started to burn, and hear breaths became short, panicked, and she had half-rotated her body, about to turn away, when the door swung open.
“Jiwan-ah!”
Her mother jerked open the screen door and swept Jiwan up in a hug before she could run. “Jiwan-ah,” she cooed, peppering her forehead with kisses. Jiwan felt her skin warm to the touch. Despite all the shame and embarrassment she was carrying with her, she still couldn’t help but melt into her mother’s embrace.
“I missed you,” she mumbled, inhaling the familiar scent of her mother’s skin. She heard her dad stumbling around in another room, coming out to check on the commotion.
When he saw her, tucked into her mother’s neck as usual, he gave a warm smile.
“There you are,” he said, as if he was expecting her.
(Jiwan felt a pang in her heart. Maybe they expected her to finish her degree by now. Or at least… have a couple job prospects lined up. Instead…)
“Dad~” She walked over to give him a hug. She kept it short, knowing he was still awkward around affection, which drove affectionate people like Jiwan and her mother insane. Still he indulged a strong pat on her back, telling her he missed her, and that she was getting more beautiful by the minute.
(Again, a pang. Would he still think that if he knew? If he realized that beauty was never going to earn him a son?)
Before she could answer any questions, or ask questions of her own, her mother herded them all into the small kitchen. Jiwan washed her hands thoroughly, and tried to help setting the table but her mother kept slapping her hands away.
“Let me take care of you,” she said, “after all… there are only so many more opportunities I’ll have to do this.”
(No, no, no. Take care of me forever. Don’t ever abandon me, please.)
She knelt down beside her father, letting him lean his body against hers as he tried to crouch comfortably on his aging joints.
“Where’s Ji-ah?”
“She’s still at school.” Her mother turned away from the stove. “Actually… why aren’t you at school right now?”
Heat rushed over her neck. “Oh, I, uh…”
“Ah nevermind. You can tell me later. Right now lets eat!”
Her mother served her rice before she could reach for it herself, and again and again and again Jiwan felt that acute stabbing sensation, threatening to cut her heart into so many tiny pieces it wouldn’t be possible to glue them all back together. Her father poured water into their cups, and passed the first one to Jiwan. She picked it up shakily, and took a long sip. She wanted to show them she could still be good. As she thanked her mother for the meal, and gave an overzealous reaction to the simple kimchi stew, she hoped they realized she was grateful for everything. Even though she was a failure, she still loved them. (Even though there was one person she loved just a little bit more).
After lunch her parents insisted she rest. Even though this was the time her father would watch baseball games on the TV, he opted to go out for a walk so it would be quiet in the house. Save for the sound of her mother’s dishwashing, there was an almost pin-drop silence. She rolled over on the mat, hugging the nearest pillow tight to her chest.
It was stupid to come here, she thought. Tears leaked onto the pillow, and she did her best to hide her sniffling. It was stupid to come here, and fall in love with home and her family, all over again, just to break the terrible news. She was failing art school. She was dropping out to work a crappy part time job. She was dating a girl.
Jiwan rolled back over on her other side, facing the window instead of the door to the living room. Almost immediately she could make out the shape of Sol’s face in the clouds. Her big round cheeks. Her moody eyes. Her soft, cushiony lips. Jiwan searched the sky for the rest of her; her broad shoulders, her long arms. She wished those arms were wrapped around her right at that moment. Even though dropping out was the best thing to do, leaving Seoul might’ve been the worst decision she ever made. Leaving Sol would always be the worst decision she could ever make (she vowed to never even let herself entertain the idea again).
Sol believed her parents would understand. She believed they could help, in fact, that they would help, even after Jiwan wasted years of money and support for her art career only to tell them she’s dropping out.
She felt hollow as she watched the sun set; empty. None of this was supposed to happen, at least, not this way. She’d never regret dating Sol; nothing could make her regret it. But she should have figured out her feelings earlier. Spared Sol less pain. And maybe, figured out a better way for them to be together, than attempting a career she had zero prospects in. She stared at her own hands feeling hatred for them. Stupid, messy, inaccurate. They never truly captured Sol’s essence. Not in the hundreds of portraits she drew. Not in the sculptures she made, late at night, that she didn’t show anyone, because even though art was supposed to be about emotion, Jiwan was never actually good at showing hers. Not the important ones, at least.
She drifted off to that thought. Realizing that so many things she’d had locked in her heart were spilling out now, and she was unprepared for the danger she’d be in. She never learned to protect her feelings, she’d only been hiding them, and now it was finally coming out.
Jiwan woke up to the smell of tea. She was never a big tea drinker but the familiar scent made her feel warm and happy. She yawned and stretched and came to slowly, reveling in the comfort of her bed until she remembered where she was, and why she came.
Guilt started to gnaw at her lungs again. She counted her breaths as she stood up and walked around, preparing herself for what would inevitably be the beginning of the end.
Her parents were in the living room, drinking tea. Her mother was flipping through a catalogue and her father was napping with his eyes open.
“Mom. Dad,” she began timidly, “can we -um- talk?”
“Oh-ho, why do you sound so serious,” her mother teased, “is it something bad?”
Jiwan swallowed thickly.
“Um… no- well… I guess… it depends…”
Her mother put down her magazine. Jiwan could see her face had become more wrinkled, and a little more sunburnt. But that loving expression was still there in her eyes. For the first time in her life Jiwan hated seeing it directed at her.
“What’s wrong Jiwan-ie?”
Jiwan’s lip trembled, and she really didn’t want to do it like this. Her father didn’t turn to look at her, though she saw the volume on the TV go down. Feeling unbelievably small and trapped, Jiwan’s fight or flight instincts kicked in.
She shifted her weight back and forth between her legs.
“Well, what I- I mean… I’m… you know the semester isn’t over yet, but… I- well I haven’t… been… doing so well.” This was harder than Jiwan thought it would be. She could barely talk over the lump in her throat. And the announcers on the TV were starting to get on her nerves.
“That’s not a foul ball, its out,” she muttered, catching the referee making a shit call. She glanced down at her father, expecting a nod of approval, but instead she saw his glassy eyes, waiting, dejectedly, for the other shoe to fall. At this Jiwan couldn’t help herself. She choked out a sob.
“I’m s-so s-sorry,” she wailed. She covered her face with her hands, and forced the words out. “I couldn’t do it. I know I begged you to let me go but I couldn’t do it. I s-suck at art. And I couldn’t keep making you pay for a major I’m bad at, so I dropped out. There! I said it!” She sobbed a few more times, resisting the urge to just collapse on the floor and let it swallow her. “I dropped out of school.”
Her mother rushed over, sweeping her up into her arms, and just like when she was little, after her mother had been the one scolding her, she’d still run into her arms expecting a hug. She figured this was the calm before the storm. She let her mother stroke her hair and whisper soothing words into her ear, one last time, before she let go of her forever.
“Oh Jiwan… I’m not mad at you, just tell me what happened.”
Jiwan wrapped her arms around her mother’s back and squeezed tight. “I’m bad that’s what happened! I was never good at it, I just followed Sol to art school because I-“
Jiwan froze. Realizing what she had done she tore herself away, and backed up until she was standing ten feet away in the kitchen.
“Yoon Sol.” Even just saying her name eased some of Jiwan’s nerves. “Her exhibition just happened and she was… wonderful.” Jiwan thought back to that night, the way Sol sniffed her flower bouquet for the umpteenth time, and how she held Jiwan’s hand tighter, tighter, tighter, as they walked home together.
“Her program is finally over so…” Jiwan sucked in a breath, gritted her teeth, and then “I don’t need to be there anymore.” She looked into her parents’ eyes defiantly. Scared shitless… but she wouldn’t say this part with any hesitation; any shame. “I followed Sol to art school because I love her, and now that she’s done, I think… I think I have to drop out. I was never good at it, and if Sol isn’t going to be there, there just isn’t any point anymore.” She bowed deeply, a perfect 90-degree angle. “I’m sorry for wasting your money. I promise I’ll work to pay you back.”
Her parents were quiet for a long time. Jiwan felt her heart trying to hammer out of her chest but she also couldn’t move. It felt like any change in the atmosphere would shatter reality completely. Everything was so fragile. So breakable. She even breathed slowly and quietly, just so as not to disturb the peace.
(Maybe the last peace they’d ever have as a family.)
“Jiwan-ah…” Her mother closed the distance between them and patted her head, and Jiwan waited anxiously for the knife to twist, “its okay.”
(What?)
“What?”
Her mother sighed and hugged Jiwan tighter. “If you were so upset then it wasn’t worth doing anymore. Your happiness is the most important thing to us, you know that.”
Jiwan checked to see her father’s reaction and he was slowly nodding along. So far so good, but really they didn’t have her convinced. The tears kept welling up in her eyes.
“But… but I wasted so much time! And the money-“
“Hush! You don’t need to worry about the money. What’s the pointing of having money, after all, if you’re not going to spend it?”
Jiwan groaned. “Mom, you know that’s not-“
“-I’m not finished!” She tugged on Jiwan’s hair for good measure and Jiwan shrunk back into herself, sad and reproachful.
Her mother slid her hands to her face and forced them to look each other in the eye. The hairs on the back of Jiwan’s neck stood up. As affectionate as they were she never made eye contact with her mother for this long. It was unnerving.
“Seo Jiwan.”
Her heartrate picked up. “Yes?”
“Do you think you wasted your time learning art?”
“I-I…” Jiwan struggled for words, considering and reconsidering all that happened. Her classes were difficult. She never had the natural aptitude her peers had for the subject. But she also had so many of them with Sol, and Sol would always explain the difficult concepts to her. Sol would stay late with her to finish her projects. Sol would praise her, even when it was obvious her pieces were rudimentary at best. Sol. She was the whole reason she was there. And for that… Jiwan couldn’t regret it.
“I, um… I tried really hard but… I don’t have the talent,” she finished lamely.
Her mother clicked her tongue. “That’s not what I asked.” Even though she was still gripping Jiwan’s face, she couldn’t make eye contact with her, instead staring down chest, the jade pendant she always wore, and the bits of her browning skin.
Jiwan sighed. “I didn’t want to be an artist. Not really, I mean… but I tried really hard,” she said again, and squeezing her fingers into fists, forced herself to get out the rest, “I tried for Sol. I wanted to always be with her so I followed her. I would still follow her, anywhere, even if it was hard.” She sighed, feeling heavier and lighter at the same time for admitting it. “I’m sorry for wasting your-“
“-then it wasn’t a waste,” her mother said. Jiwan’s head snapped up to look at her, and there was nothing but love and acceptance in her eyes. “You went to art school for a reason. Maybe it wasn’t to become an actual artist, but you still had a reason.”
“Mom…”
Her eyes twinkled, and she pinched one of Jiwan’s cheeks. “Did you succeed?”
“Mom!” Her cheeks flushed, and she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. (It was that conversation, right?) “I…” she took her mother’s hands off her face and held them tightly. She inhaled.
“Sol and I are dating. We’re a couple now.”
Her mother’s smile didn’t waver. She only sighed contentedly, like she’d just finished a very nice cup of tea. “Then it wasn’t a waste.”
“Mom?” Jiwan kept squeezing her hands, afraid to let go, but more afraid, that her mother might chase after her. This wasn’t at all how she expected things to go; she expected-
“-Yah! Chan-wook-ah! Come here and give your daughter a hug!”
Jiwan felt her father’s arms come up around her shoulder and then she was being pressed between the two of them, just like when she was little and shaking from the sound of the thunder.
“Are you sure?” Her voice was pinched, a little raspy, from disbelief.
“I always knew Sol was the one for you.”
Jiwan gasped.
“Don’t be so surprised, I might be old, but I’m not blind.” She pulled Jiwan’s head into her chest and kissed the crown of her head. “It wasn’t easy, I’ll admit. I didn’t know what to think about it at first.” Jiwan sucked in a breath. “But Yoon Sol is a very nice girl. She always has been. And she always looked a little lonely to me.” Her father hummed in agreement and Jiwan couldn’t believe what was happening.
“I didn’t want her to take you away,” her mother admitted. “Every parent both anticipate and fears the day their child will take to someone else, and leave the house forever. I just didn’t expect it to happen so young. It was overwhelming for me, you have to understand, Jiwan-ah.”
Jiwan sniffled, feeling tired, and happy, and embarrassed all at once. “It was overwhelming for me too.”
Her mother kissed her head once more.
“So I’m sorry if I made it seem like I wouldn’t accept you earlier. I was still dealing with my own prejudice. But Yoon Sol is a very nice girl. She was always so helpful, and kind, and respectful.” Jiwan’s face warmed again, thinking about Sol, and especially hearing her own parents compliment her. Her mother cleared her throat to continue. “And when she’d wait for you at the front door, I would see her usual sullen look, fall away completely and turn into joy the moment she saw you.” Her mother laughed. “And you always took off running towards her, as if she was going anywhere without you.”
“She almost did,” Jiwan confessed, and regretted it as soon as she did. Her mother pulled her head up by her hands.
“What happened?”
Jiwan looked down at her feet. “Well… there was this exchange program. She almost left, and -she wasn’t even going to tell me about it!- but, um, she didn’t go in the end…” Her mother used her thumb to stroke the apple of her cheek. “And why is that?”
Jiwan blushed now, and looked anywhere but at her mother. “I wasn’t sure at first, but later on… after… she told me she stayed because of me.” The thought made her both happy and sad. Jiwan knew there were still a lot of things to be worked out with Yoon Sol, but a part of her heart was at peace knowing with absolute certainty that Yoon Sol would always be around to work through those things together.
Suddenly there was a loud rumbling sound, and Jiwan looked over her shoulder at her father.
He cleared his throat, and pulled away, walking over to the kitchen. “I think its time for dinner.”
Jiwan laughed, despite herself, and her mother joined in laughing as well.
“You’re always the same,” she accused, “life isn’t only about eating!”
Just then Jiwan’s stomach grumbled too and her mother groaned. “I forgot what family I was in,” she moaned, and Jiwan and her father both passed each other knowing grins.
At the playground of her old middle school Jiwan was kicking around some pebbles. The sky above her was wide and clear, all the stars easier to spot outside of the big city. She inhaled that familiar country smell.
“Sol-ah.”
Sol picked up after just one ring.
“Jiwan-ah. How did it go? Are your parents well? What are you doing right now?”
Jiwan giggled, hearing Sol fire off a list of questions in a manner so unlike her. She found her favorite swing and sat down on it, gripping the chain tightly.
“It went well. My parents are healthy. I’m talking to you right now.”
She could hear Sol sigh through the phone.
“That’s a relief.” Then a pause. “I told you it would work out.”
Jiwan smirked. “You were worried just then! Admit it! You thought there was a chance it would go terribly wrong didn’t you.”
“Of course I was worried. I believed it would go well but I was still worried.”
“Hmm?”
“I always worry about you.”
Jiwan laughed, full and bright, and pushed herself off the pavement so she would start swinging.
“I worry about you too,” she replied easily. This was the best part of their new relationship. Jiwan had a hard enough time as was, limiting their hugging and hand-holding to just barely socially acceptable levels when with friends. Now that they were a couple, however, she may have gone a bit overboard. She heard from Sehun the other day that even in his mind he couldn’t unstick the two of them; always glued together like chopsticks.
She heard some shuffling around on Sol’s end. Jiwan wondered if she was sculpting, or cooking -maybe- even though she’d already had dinner, they always ate later in Seoul. She wanted to see Sol in her over-sized t-shirt, navigating her apartment with ease. Her hand gripped the swingset tighter, desire washing over her tenfold.
“I miss you,” she murmured, and the shuffling stopped.
“I miss you too.”
“I miss you more,” Jiwan insisted, and she could hear Sol scoff.
“That’s literally impossible.”
“Mmm I don’t think it is. I always miss you more. I miss you, even when you’re standing right in front of me.”
She held her breath after that, feeling there was something more weighty about that confession. She stopped swinging and waited.
Not two seconds later Sol responded, sounding equally affected. “Me too, Jiwan. I miss you even you’re right in front of me too.”
They both sighed, and Jiwan pressed her cheek close to her phone, as if it would bring her closer to Sol.
After another short silence Sol spoke up again. “So it really went well?”
“It did.”
“And they… know about us?”
Jiwan chuckled softly. “It sounds like they knew about us from a long time ago.” Then, “my mother said it was obvious you had a crush on me. You were always looking at me with lovey eyes.” She grinned, waiting for Sol’s rebuttal, but it never came. Instead she replied, “well of course… I’ve been in love with you since 9th grade.”
“Sol-aaaah,” she whined, “stop saying romantic things when I’m trying to tease you!”
Sol laughed. “But its true though! It was… embarrassing when Nabi pointed it out. But I realized, well, I’d rather not be embarrassed of loving you. Even if its obvious for everyone else to see.”
“Me too,” Jiwan added quickly, “I’m not embarrassed of loving you either. In fact, I want to tell everyone. You should come back home with me soon. We should go see our old teachers, and that kimbap lady that always gave us free fried snacks.”
“I will,” Sol promised.
Even though they were only taking turns expressing love, the air felt different. Tighter… with something Jiwan was afraid to touch.
(This was how she always was. Anxious by nature. Worried, even after all of Sol’s consolations, that something would inevitably go wrong.)
“You will come back to Seoul though, right?”
Jiwan let out a short laugh. “Of course. I said I would. You know this visit is supposed to be short.”
“Good, okay. Well… Summer vacation is -well, just summer, I guess, is coming up, and I want to spend it all with you.”
“Yoon Sol…” She couldn’t keep the sweetness off her tongue. The affection that always seemed to roll off her in waves around Sol; just for Sol. “But you know,” she dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt, “gallery season is coming up. And our professor is still waiting for your responses to some of the offers you got.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sol said quickly, “we can decide those things later.”
“We?”
“Seo Jiwan, I’m not doing anything without you.”
“Yoon Sol-“
“-please… just come home.” She sounded a little desperate, and Jiwan sighed. She knew she had worried Sol, when she showed up teary-eyed one day and told her she’d be leaving the program. And after everything was already going so well. They were together now. Her presentation had been a major success.
Jiwan brought her hand up to her chest, and it laid it over her heart. She wanted more than just to date Sol. To call her girlfriend. She wanted a whole life with Sol, and following her around blindly wasn’t going to cut it. The realization hit hard. She was crying the whole time she submitted her withdrawal papers. Their TA’s each pat her consolingly on the back. But she was doing this for Sol. Just like how she had followed her to art school to be with her, now, she was leaving it to be with her. Because this happiness they found couldn’t just be temporary. Even her parents knew, apparently had known for a very long time, that Sol was meant to be Jiwan’s forever.
“I’ll be home soon,” she said, not caring that she said that while she was currently staying at her parents’ house. Home had become another person a long long time ago. “And I promise we’ll figure this all out together.”
Sol was silent for a moment, but then Jiwan could hear her faint breath of relief. “Okay,” she mumbled. Her voice sounded closer to the speaker. She must have been lying down.
Jiwan turned her face into her phone, again, trying to imagine it was Sol. Her soft, perfect, skin, pressed against her ear.
“I love you.”
Sol sighed again.
“I love you too.”
There was some shuffling, and Jiwan knew she was really falling asleep, so she stayed on the phone the entire time until she could hear her faint snoring. She walked back to the sound of it, each breath reminding her of a future she was excited to build. One where the two of them, even diametrically opposed at so many points, could make a life together. Sol would do her art. And Jiwan would do… whatever… she could find her passion, or just get a regular job, but either way, all of it sounded promising with Sol. As long as Sol was there, she knew she could do it. She followed the stars up the path to her parent’s house.
Sol made everything in her life, alright.