stardust | park seonghwa - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

SAN told me he'd be willing to take my B-TEEZ ticket. I told him as soon as I got home that night. Apparently he had a feeling that Seonghwa would get two and the exact reason why he didn't say anything to me wasn't very clear but nonetheless, San has been trying to watch as much of their music as he can.
So this morning, San accompanies me with getting some art supplies I need for the project. We enter the shop as San blabbers his comments about the music video he watched last night — 'Question', their latest comeback. It's apparently the first ever song he's heard from them (well, that he knows of anyway). He tells me he's sure Seonghwa's showed him something else once but that was a long time ago.
My hand cradles a couple of canvases I decide to work on as I talk with the English student. "So, what are your other thoughts except for Hajoong's rap?" I ask him, picking out another canvas.
San seems to be deep in thought. "The way Xan starts the song is nice," he proceeds to imitate the way Xan's hand trembles while pouring an imaginary wine glass in the video, "it gives it the powerful 'oomph', you know?"
"Oh yeah, that bit was sooo cool!" I gush, picking up a flat brush and poking the soft tip at San's dimpled cheek, "stop trying to copy him."
The blonde pouts, "I bet I can do it as cool as him."
"Doubt that, nobody can compare to Xan."
"Who's your favourite again?" San asks. He takes a couple of the brushes I chose and trails after me as we walk over to the paint section.
"Jung Juyoung," I grin. Halting my steps, I twirl around to face San, causing him to stop suddenly. "I can't believe I'm seeing him!"
San just laughs. "It's so weird, Seonghwa hyung was just talking about how he can't wait to see Park Seonghoon — he's the  falsetto guy, right? — and I felt myself almost puking seeing him go on about it but seeing you fawning over this Juyoung dude is highly entertaining."
I pinch his sides, causing him to yelp. "Was that meant to be an insult?"
"No," San's grin is so wide, his dimples show on both of his cheeks, "it was an almost compliment, you're cute."
"Oh shush," feeling my cheeks tingle with warmth makes me push San away lightly, causing him to giggle.
When we get to the painting studio, San goes back to watching B-TEEZ music videos on the easel next to mine, Yerim's easel, his face scrunching up in concentration as he presses on 'Neverland'. Occasionally, I hear San's random comments about how this one dude's hair is so long it's covering his own face (Seonghoon) and how the guy with the floral set is handsome (that was Xan).
I set one of the canvases I bought on the easel, with my sketchbook on top of the table next to it. My eyes scan the rough pencil scratches on the paper, trying to decide which one I want to paint first. So far, I have 5 sketches done and four of them had gotten the approval tick of the assistant professor.
The day has been cooperating with my mood thus far. Mid-morning sunlight breaks through the glass windows, the perfect natural light to set me in the mood. Of course, even if the weather had been slightly less great, it wont stop me from coming here and starting something. But they say, once you're in the zone, you'll be able to create better.
My hands tie the strings of the painting apron from the back, flicking through my sketchbook from time to time with a pensive look. Designs swirl in my eyes and they may just look like a random cluster of stars — but they were Yeosang's stars. And my mum's stars, and my aunt Taehee's stars... and one that of a random Instagrammer's that I found online.
And yes, yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. But my mind has been occupied with star marks, slightly obsessed I dare say. I can't help think that they're all beautiful, pretty and definitely meaningful. Of course, the paintings that I designed are stretched into a little exaggeration but there is aesthetic as much as there is significance that I just can't let my hands do nothing.
Deciding I'll start with Yeosang's, I quickly tie my hair into a low ponytail and pick up a freshly sharpened grey lead.
"I'm bored," comes San's voice, making me pause just as I am about to press the tip on to the canvas. It makes me press my lips tightly.
"It's barely been half an hour."
"Still," San whines.
I turn my head to see him scrolling through his phone in boredom, resting it on the easel as he places his chin on his palm. He leans forward on the arm that rested on his thigh, blowing a raspberry.
"What's so hard about drawing something?" he asks, "why can't you just splat the paint on and we'll be out of here soon enough."
"Can't," I tell him, "art students don't just 'paint it', Sani. We need to pay attention to all these other artistic elements like the colours, the shades, texture. Principles like balance, proportions..."
My voice trails into barely audible mumbles as I start on my work.
"How many videos have you watched?" I ask.
"Uh..." San pauses to count on his fingers (I can see it from this angle), "four?"
"And you're tired of watching music videos?"
"Very, I'll watch more tomorrow but I kinda need something else."
I set my pencil down. My hand gestures for his phone and after San places it in my palm, I quickly type something to the search bar.
"Documentary about penguins?" comes San's question, confused.
I grin, "might as well learn something new, right? I watch documentaries when I have nothing else to watch. Who knows, maybe you'll like it too."
"You're so much like Seonghwa hyung," he mumbles, pressing on the first video that came up.
My heart cheers a somewhat pleasant flutter but I mask it with a smack to his knee. "Am not."
"Yes you are," he half-mumbles, tapping the screen rapidly so the 'skip ad' button would come faster (like that would work anyhow), "were you guys born in like, the 1800s or something? Who even watches documentaries nowadays?"
I almost, almost, chuck a paint brush to his face. "Okay, first of all, you and I were born in the same year."
"I don't know if you know but I'm pretty sure, if anything, that makes Seonghwa the ancient one. Second of all, documentaries are interesting, okay? I bet you didn't know squirrels can't vomit, Nat-Geo told me."
"Who's Nat and Geo?"
"I swear to God..."
San breaks out into a fit of laughter, "just kidding, I know what Nat-Geo is."
"And I bet you didn't know I can kick your ass to Japan."
When San doesn't say anything in reply, I tear my eyes away from my rough sketch and find that he's already engrossed in the topic of macaroni penguins. I snort and go back to my canvas, shaking my head.
"WhO eVeN wAtcHes DocUmEnTarRies, he says," I mimic him as I outline the edges of Yeosang's star very gently with the tip of my pencil.
From then on, at least, San was drowned in his own world, leaving me with the right atmosphere to draw. Some of his random comments make me laugh; "oh my God, ma'am she's trying to steal your man!" or "YES! Slap the hell out of that bitch!" (he imitates the penguin's flippers with his own arm, nearly falls out of his chair) or even "go! Go! Chickie run!" when a young one was chased by other penguins.
He catches me laughing and immediately pauses the video.
"What?"
"Nothing," but I am amused.
San squints at me and presses continue on the screen.
Snickering, I return to my sketching.
I let my mind wander as my fingers bring the pencil down to the curve of the nebula. It's an understatement to say that my mind is loud as drifts from one thought to another; from Yeosang having a mental breakdown when one of the wheels of his penny board fell off this morning, to the one take-away ramen Seonghwa had insisted me to bring.
He thinks he's so slick. He knows I'd take it any day.
I remember what happened the previous night. Seonghwa brought me home in his car and I obviously didn't notice the plastic bag on the backseats. When we'd arrived at my apartment complex, Seonghwa had rounded the car and when I exited from my seat, the warm bundle was suddenly in my hands.
"What's this?" I asked him, putting on the best questioning eyes I can muster.
Seonghwa only grinned in response, hands clasped behind him. "I know you'll get hungry again tonight when you're doing your assignment," he reasoned, "what better late-night food than some good old noodles?"
"Very tempting," I said teasingly and after a small round of a staring competition, I sighed. "You do know I can't say no to you."
"And noodles."
"And noodles," I repeated. "But you can't keep buying things for me, Hwa."
He rolled his eyes, "I'm doing this because I want to."
"Anyways, can't keep Picasso away from her work, now can we?" Seonghwa remarked, closing the car door on my side shut.
I almost dropped my heart out of my rib cage when Seonghwa leaned down, pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth. In that cold night, my ears felt extremely hot. The brunette pulled back with a satisfied grin and after mumbling a whispered: "take care" in my ear, he went back inside his car. I watched his car rolling away into the distance, finally almost being able to breathe.
As I am about to repeat the memory, though, San's voice breaks the image of Seonghwa's face.
"What is it again?" I scowl at San, wincing at the accidental stroke of pencil on my canvas.
The boy mimics my scowl mockingly before nodding at the direction of the door.
What I find there shocks me, catching me off-guard.
"Hey," Yeji says. She stands by the door, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.
San, what the heck? I say with my eyes, alarmed.
San's brows lift, as if to say I don't know.
"Can I talk to Hyeshin for a sec?"
I let my pencil down, eyes meeting with San's again.
What do I do?
San looks as equally confused. Do you want to talk to her?
No!
There's a sigh coming from the direction where Yejin stands at. "Please?"
I inhale sharply. "San, can we..?" I gesture between me and her to which San nods at.
The blonde stands from his stool. He shakes the phone in his hand. If anything happens, he mouths.
I nod.
The girl cautiously steps in the room after San heads out. He made sure to squint his eyes at her for longer than he needed to but with her chin held high, Yeji makes her way to the stool San sat on.
"Hi."
"Hey," I reply under my breath.
From here, I can smell her perfume — it changed than the one she used to wear. Yeji shifts under my gaze, letting her piercing eyes lose its sharpness a little. She's wearing her favourite grey zippy-up jumper, the one she always wears for workouts but she plays with the hood strings nervously.
Yeji takes a deep breath. "First of all, I'm sorry for what happened at the, you know... I shouldn't have approached you. I had too much in my system but I know that's no excuse."
"It's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," I tell her, almost sounding like I'm trying to convince myself. But I brush it off quickly. "Yeah," I say it, more surely this time.
Yeji seems to mumble something under her breath but I can't tell what it is. But she finally loses her hard demeanor, now actually looking a little nervous.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "There's actually another reason why I'm here."
"Oh?" My head tilts in curiosity, "what is it?"
"Just don't tell anyone about this yet."
"Okay... what is this about?"