stardust | park seonghwa - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

MORNING greets me and my consciousness by a weight being thrown on my body. My eyes spring open with a heavy heave off my stomach and Yeosang is there; by the looks of it he belly-flopped his way on to my bed and lay across my belly.
"Good morning!" he cries out, bacon pyjamas all wrinkled and a button undone.
"There's no 'good' in this morning," I groan, shoving a pillow to my face and try to let myself drift back into a longer sleep. Exhaustion tries to lull me back into slumber, disconnecting myself with the real world and on the edge of drifting off.
I know that I'm usually a morning person but even a girl like me couldn't wake up early when my schedule is all over the place, stressing out over revisions of sketches and getting caught up with my project. Overall, it has been an draining week and maybe letting myself snooze for a little while longer wouldn't hurt.
Well, it looks like Yeosang is deciding against that.
The blonde whines. "I want breakfast! You owe me one, remember?"
"Make one, I have cereal or whatever," I mumble sleepily into my pillow, flicking my wrist.
"But I want you to spend money on me!" Yeosang shakes my legs, "get up! I will kick you off your bed if you don't."
"Hate to break it to you but I'm immune to you kicking me."
"For fuck's sake, Hyeshin, please feed me," my best friend fake cries, hugging my torso dramatically.
I whack my pillow at his head. "You've been annoying since last night, go away."
"Come on! It's the weekend; the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the leaves are getting old but that's okay because they're pretty," Yeosang then pauses, "yo, did it ever occur to you that when we rake up dry leaves, we're just collecting dead body parts of a plant and that makes the tree a half zombie."
"Exactly, it's Saturday!" I turn in my bed and lie on my stomach, pressing my face into the covers. "And please don't taint me with your zombie plants thought."
"You have to go to the studio later today anyways," he mentions.
"Still, that's later in the day."
Sighing, Yeosang bounces off my bed. He stands by the side for a moment and I feel his eyes on me. When I take a peek by tilting my head slightly, I see his calculated look scanning my room. He then spots my bag and shrugs.
"I'm giving you like, five minutes to put your shoes on or whatever," he says as he walks to my chair where my bag is placed. He sticks a hand into it and pulls out my wallet.
"If not, don't be surprised when I'll be dining five star and driving a brand new Lambo."
"First of all, in your dreams," I say, watching Yeosang stride out of my room. He doesn't forget to wiggle his ass (I scoff inwardly; lack thereof) at the door, sticking it tongue out mockingly.
"Second of all... I'm BROKE!"
seonghoon enthusiast♡
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me
oh? the one for ur
uncle's?
seonghoon enthusiast♡
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oH AND
you might need to start looking for dresses
ur my date owo
Yeosang did mean five minutes.
I hear the front door closing at 8:10. It made me scramble off my bed. I stop by the bathroom to splash some water on to my face and brush my teeth before running out the door wearing these pair of sandals with the name of a bird on the straps my mum got from a holiday somewhere (out of fear that Yeosang will spend the rest of my so-called 'wealth' or a fear of not getting my share of breakfast, which of the two I don't really know).
In the time span I did all that, Yeosang didn't walk too far. For once, and this once only I thank God for making him a pretty slow walker.
"You're out," he points out.
"Couldn't take any chances," I shrug, "but please don't waste all my money, I still need to buy myself some varnish for the paintings."
"Doesn't the studio have some?"
I sigh, "irresponsible kids left them to dry. The ones they have there are pretty shitty anyways, might as well get myself one."
This morning is cold despite the sun being bright. Spring is coming which, unfortunately for me, means sucky sneezing and hayfever and tissues stuck up my nostrils and sinus headaches. It's not here yet, obviously, since it's only mid-February but I can feel it coming. Yeosang notices.
"Why are you sniffling already, it's not even spring yet," he tugs my hand and we walk faster to the roastery.
"I don't know," I answer, sniffling once again.
"You're so weird, you don't even have colds in the winter," he goes on to say.
"My body, my choice."
"The roastery's gonna be alright though," I say, "so I'll be fine."
You know the amazing feeling where you can feel the warmth of a room from a distance away? That's the roastery right here. I swear, I can almost feel the heat seeping from the store that's now only a block away. It's nice and comforting.
"You're getting sleepy again," Yeosang chuckles, kicking the back of my ankle to wake me up.
I laugh sheepishly. "Sorry, I was imagining the roastery. And coffee."
"Ew, coffee," Yeosang grimaces.
"Come on, it's not that bad," I say, amused at his face that grimaces a little more, "it's like, the more cooler counterpart of tea. You like tea."
"Caffeine is a stimulant drug."
"Tea has caffeine."
"It has less."
"You like tea," I sing-song.
"Yeah but it's like drinking cider compared to like... wine or something."
"That's exaggerated," I roll my eyes teasingly.
We get to the place, pushing the door open and let the heat from the overhead heaters wash over us. I sigh, shuddering to adjust myself to the temperature and feel my mood lift higher at the familiar scent of coffee and baked bread.
Yunho, as usual, is at the counter and greeting his customers with his signature puppy smile. I glance at Yeosang who gives me a 'what?' look. I snort to myself― he probably still has a small crush on the barista no matter how many times he says he's over it. It's underlying, probably almost gone but it's still there.
I can tell by the way Yeosang's eyes light up when it's our turn to order.
"Caffeine is a stimulant, right?" is the first thing Yeosang blurts out even before Yunho can say anything.
I snicker at Yunho's confused expression.
But he recovers quickly, "oh yeah, I've heard. Why?"
"You can get addicted to it, yeah?"
"My dad can't live without it, so I guess so," Yunho then brightly grins. Yeosang gives me the 'I-told-you-so-but-you-didn't-listen' look, to which I raise my hands up in defence.
"What can I get you today?"
Yeosang shoos me off to find a place to sit while he orders so with a grumble, I walk further into the shop. ("Yes, yes, hot cappuccino with marshmellows and croissants. I know. Now go find a table!")
It's still early, meaning there's not many people. There are some of the usual faces that I'd see occasionally when I come here in the mornings, some notice me and give me a small smile. So far, it's been a great start to the day with the golden rays of the morning sunshine breaking through the front window. A small breeze blows into the room when a person exits the shop, I walk to the back of the shop to the spot I usually sit.
Except, I halt my steps and turn around on my heels.
What?
I don't move for a few moments, hoping he didn't see me and I could swiftly dodge him and go outside with Yeosang once our orders are finished. With a clench of my fists, I walk back towards Yeosang and intend to ask him to hurry up.
That is, until my name is called.
I grit my teeth, turning back slowly to face him with a slightly forced smile.
"Hyeshin, hey," Wooyoung smiles, a little crooked with awkwardness but it's still Wooyoung's smile and it's still bright.
"Hi," I say.
My hands on my back play with my fingers nervously. Meeting Wooyoung in the roastery with Yeosang just a few metres away on a somewhat okay morning was definitely not on my agenda today. Least to say, I wasn't prepared mentally and I can tell Wooyoung has a few things to say. He opens his mouth but when nothing comes out, he closes it again.
"I'll be going, bye," I backtrack away from the (now purple haired? When did he change his silver hair?) Wooyoung and slowly turn around.
"No, Hyeshin, I... can you..? Can I?" when I glance back, Wooyoung gestures to the seat across from him.
That's how I find myself twiddling my thumbs awkwardly in front of Wooyoung. I really want to say something to break the ice, Wooyoung too. He's busy bouncing his leg up and down (something he does when he's nervous) and playing with the hem of his sleeve (something that he also does when he's nervous).
"So, are you guys just gonna stare at the table for the next century or are you gonna talk?" comes Yeosang's voice after he sets down my drink as well as my three croissants. I hear him sip from his.
Another slurp.
"Because if you're gonna take a little while I can wait outside?"
I take a quick glance at Wooyoung before tapping the seat next to mine. "It's okay, you can stay."
"I won't butt in," Yeosang says in the most solemn tone I've ever heard from him.
Wooyoung takes a deep breath after what seems like seconds upon minutes of us just silently staring back and forth.
"Sorry... about what I said. I know that's a sensitive topic but my mind was all over the place," the purple haired apologises.
"I know. It's a pretty shitty move though but I think I know where you're coming from."
Yeosang snickers from next to me, mumbling "yeah sure" under his breath but I stomp on his toes to keep him quiet..
"You said you're not going to butt in?" I mutter with the corner of my mouth, sending him warning glares.
'What?' his eyes says, making me roll mine.
"It's not going to happen again, I swear. It just slipped out and if I were you, I'd feel the same too. I will completely get if you... we get awkward and stuff, what I said was pretty offensive. I was ungrateful and got carried away with it... I'm sorry. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to apologise. It was an easy thing to do, to say sorry, but I just get a bit... you know..."
Hearing the sincerity in his voice, I know Wooyoung is a hundred percent sorry and that he fully regrets it (even though it's not really that big of a deal ― I know he could've done it ages ago but I also know he needed some time to clear his head so it's better not to push it). So, I offer him a smile.
"I've forgiven you already," with that, Wooyoung grins, so so bright and it makes me happy just seeing it. People are not lying when they say his smile is infectious, even Yeosang seems to have the corner of his lips tugged up slightly.
"Thank you, Hyeshin," he says, "I won't let you down anymore! And I'll still help you, don't worry!"
"Anyways!" he chirps in a much brighter voice, "I have something else to tell you."
I hum.
"Well... I've been thinking about it. What you said and everything. Do you think Yeji will still want to talk? I think I've had my head cleared for a while and thought about it ― she messaged me a couple of times but I haven't replied to any. I feel kind of bad, you know? But I don't know how or what to say. And especially since that I can kind of tell she's getting a bit... uh... sick?"
"Will Yeji still want to talk ― of course she will!" I assure him, "she looked genuine when she came to me."
"Yeosang, what do you think?" Wooyoung turns to my best friend to ask for his opinion.
Yeosang takes one long sip of his tea contemplatively. He then leans back on his chair and shrugs after a moment of thinking with furrowed brows.
"I don't know, never been in the same situation," he starts. Wooyoung's expression falls a little.
"However, I do think you guys can talk. Whether or not you guys are going to get together in the end, it's completely your choice."
"At least you wont be dying for being on bad terms anymore."
I smack Yeosang with a napkin. "Sang!"
He only responds with a sheepish smile and I'm glad Wooyoung doesn't take it to heart. Instead he laughs ― like, as in, Wooyoung laughs laugh. It feels so nice to hear it again; watching Wooyoung find amusement (although in something a little dark) after a while of not seeing him.
Hours later, Wooyoung and I are walking to the uni. The lilac haired (I'm still not used to seeing them purple. He kind of reminds me of that one Teletubtub but louder and bouncier) is busy occupying his mouth by rambling about how he's going to do this.
The two star mates decide to meet after Yeji's dance classes end (which was still two hours from now and Wooyoung wanted a little bit more mental support). So he will be coming with me to the studio ― he insisted. Said something about how I'm going to be bored and he'll keep me company for the time being.
I'm sure I'll end up with a fallen ear than be entertained by how fast he's speaking right now.
When we arrive at the studio, it's fifteen past one. I know there's a primary school painting program here later at four so I need to pack in as much as I can for today. There's nobody inside and Wooyoung makes himself comfortable by sitting on Mingi's seat and continues his talking, occasionally stopping to stare at paintings and other works hung up on the walls.
I set my easel up, taking out the painting of aunt Taehee's star mark from the drying rack and gather all my brushes, knives and palette from my locker in the corner of the room. Once I have all my equipment and the tubes of paint, I place them on a rolling tray and push it by the easel to get on with it.
I take back what I said earlier.
Wooyoung's not too bad of a company. He doesn't shut up.
Once he runs out of things to worry about, he gets up from his stool and strolls around the room. The snarky and witty comments coming out from his mouth is entertaining ("Ew!! Why is this person's nose green? Why is the whole face green!?" "It might be an expression, Woo." "Still! And oh God, why is this dude half naked!?").
See? Entertaining.
So entertaining that I didn't really find the need to rest and amuse myself with my phone in little breaks. Almost two hours fly by, listening to Wooyoung's thoughts that are on speaker mode and my hands don't rest. I get a little carried away, maybe that was a wrong move.
With my left hand holding my palette and my right holding up a brush, I feel the blood in my arm rush down fast from my fingers down to my shoulder. I ignore it for a split second―pins and needles, no biggie. It was something I was used to.
But when a stinging pain on my top arm suddenly jolts me into another dimension, I drop my brush and hiss, cursing under my breath.
"You good?" Wooyoung calls out from the other side of the studio.
I groan at the throbbing feeling on my shoulder. "Cramps!"
The lilac haired snorts. "I told you to take breaks."
"Yeah, but ―" I cry when another shot of pain shoots up in between my joints when I try to move it.
By Lord I will throw my canvas at Wooyoung if he doesn't stop wheezing. For real. Just imagine it, the rectangular object hurdling through the air like a makeshift Frisbee and knocks him into his senses on the forehead. He's lucky my good hand is my right or he'll sure have a bruise by now.
Wooyoung takes another long wheeze. "I shouldn't be laughing," he says in between his... whatever he's doing. "You're growing old."
"Watch your mouth, Jung Wooyoung. You're as old as me."
"At least I refer to myself as 'twenty-years-young'. In fact, the word 'young' is part of my name."
"I will throw this canvas at you."
"Well... too bad, you're going to lose your work on it if you did. Let me remind you, the showcase is not too far away and you still need to get it listed on the catalogue and what not."
"You're this close to getting kicked out of here and entertain me no more."
Wooyoung replies with a nonchalant hum. "It's okay, it's nearly been two hours anyway. Gotta go!"
I roll my eyes, watching the boy skip out of the room and kicks his heels together at the doorway. He turns me around with one last grin and then hurries out of the room. Letting myself sigh, I massage my shoulder with a pout.
Maybe this is enough for today.