stardust | park seonghwa - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

THIS time round, I'm determined to make everything right with everyone. When I got home with Seonghwa earlier this morning just as the sun was about to rise, he noticed the canvas that was lodged behind the door. It was the one I took note of right before leaving the house, him mentioning about me reminded me of what I was intending to do with it.
"Have you told San and Yeosang about it?" he had asked after pointing at it lazily with a wave of his index finger.
"Yeosang kind of has an idea but I can't be sure," I said, joining him in observing the unfinished work.
"So... that's your mark?" Seonghwa asked, chin jutting at the canvas. "So you're thinking about handing this in too?" I nod in affirmation.
"It's not finished yet but I reckon I can do the rest and submit it to the showcase on time if I work on it for a bit," I told him.
"I think you should; it's pretty."
My eyes trace over the elements painted on the canvas; there are several blank spaces where the splashes of turquoise and purple would clash, the white star missing its details and I remember vaguely trying to recreate the gentle swirls of colours I saw in my eyes the first time I'd taken a look at my own mark through the mirror. It was meant to be a work purely out of boredom but the longer I stare at it, the more I want it to be art. I want the observer the feel my emotions through the painting alone; my confusion, my determination, the bursts of happiness I've experienced along with my mark.
I'd shown Seonghwa the real mark on my shoulder afterwards and just like he views everything else, he looked at it like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. He said that I should go for it, express myself because he knows I was itching to do so and add it to my formerly believed-to-be "finished" collection.
"Why are you so keen on me finishing it anyway?" I asked him on my way out of my apartment, "it's not like it's yours. I was expecting you to be... uh..?"
Seonghwa smirked at me. "Were you expecting me to be jealous?"
"Good bye!" I turned on my heels and marched out the door. Why did I even ask, I know the answer to that anyways.
And that is why I'm working against time to complete this work. It takes me a few hours to finally complete the colouring in and I risk the quality of the end result by quickly drying it with the dryer. Sometime in the middle of me working on it, I decide that this piece will become centerpiece and I find myself mixing a tub of glittery varnish before pouring it over my completed work. Seeing the end result boosts up my satisfaction and maybe Seonghwa's right, even though I can't get it to look exactly the same way as the one on my shoulder does, it's still a beautiful piece.
As I'm making use of the last few hours before the deadline by leaving my final piece to dry and fill out my showcase details, the doors swing open and Yeosang strides into the studio. Least to say, he startled me. There's urgency in the way he's walking and just as I'm about to ask him what's wrong, Yeosang surprises me with a tight hug.
"Yeosang what―"
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.
Huh?
"Didn't tell you what?"
Yeosang places his hands on my shoulders as he pulls away from me slightly. "Tell me about this?" he taps my left shoulder. At that, I feel colour drain from my face and I feel numb all over.
"How did you...?"
He sighs, does the little eye-roll thing he does when he finds something so obvious I should know. "Park Seonghwa texted me," Yeosang starts and I take a sharp inhale.
"He said you know! You found your star mate? Cool! There was nothing to be afraid of, you could've just told me!"
"But―"
"―If this is about me not finding mine yet and you feel bad, Shin, it's fine! It's been years anyways. Now, tell me... who is it?"
Yeosang just looks so happy and excited and glad, I don't know what his reaction will be when I tell him what actually happened―when I tell him the full picture of the small window he's been given. His eyes are searching, enthusiastically gripping my arms with little hops to his stand.
"Look, Sang, I know you want me to tell," I say, picking his hands off my shoulders, "but even I honestly don't know how you'll react."
Yeosang rolls his eyes. "So when will you tell me?"
"I will eventually," I tell him, turning back to see the forms for the showcase halfway filled out, "after I finish this... all this." I gesture to all the paperwork on the table. "I promise you. There's a reason why I didn't react as well as I should and when I do tell you, I want it to be when everything's clear out of my head. To be fair, I'm still trying to make sense of it."
My best friend nods. "Okay, if that's what you think," he narrows his brows, "but why do I feel like there's something more to it?"
"I didn't expect it to be this way too, 'kay? I want to but..." I eye the pile of paper on the table.
He's expectant of what I will say next, so I halt my thoughts a little. My eyes take a glance at the last piece I have drying. I'm reminded of the real mark on my shoulder. It tingles a bit. I remember how I felt during the months I tried looking for the other owner of my star. I may have not felt any messages on the space across the back of my shoulder but now that I look back on it, all the times I've felt something that I shouldn't have must have been a way to connect me to San. If I hadn't been so dead set on trying to know if Seonghwa is part of my star, then I would have known and I would have resolved this quickly and I might not have gotten myself into a deeper hole and Yeosang...
I take a deep breath. "Okay," I give in, letting out a sigh, "it's unfair if I don't tell you. It's probably for unfair to you than it is to me."
"What do you mean?"
"Just..."
"I'm not forcing you, Shin! If you want to wait, then I'll respect it," he adds quickly.
"If I don't say it now then honestly, I don't even know if later is ever going to come," I tell him honestly, "I think this is more important to you."
"Huh... interesting..." Yeosang mutters, slowly lowering himself on the stool next to mine, "wh-how is this...?"
"Well..." as I'm talking, I avoid taking a look at him. I rest my arms on the table, leaning on my elbows and let my eyes trail the support beams on the high ceilings. Then I let out a long groan, dragging my hands down my face. "This is so hard."
"'Aight, I'll ask later," the boy next to me states and is about to take one of my paperwork to have a look at but I'm faster at grabbing his forearm, preventing him to do so.
"No!" I cry, "no! I'll say it, I'll say it! Just... one sec."
I swear if it weren't for my rib cage, my heart would have run away already. I can feel it thumping against my chest, so hard that's all I can hear in my head. So I take some deep breaths, structuring the sentences in my head as I do so. Now or never, really, I don't know when else Yeosang will kind of corner me like this or when I'd grow into my big kids' shoes and tell him.
"Mystarmateisn'tSeonghwa," I say in one breath before completely facing him.
"Wow didn't know you're Stray Child's newest rapper," Yeosang snorts, the corners of his lips tugging up in an amused smile, "slowly, I only hear 'my dog stepped on sauce', Hyeshin you don't have a dog. Unless you got one without me knowing. But that's impossible 'cause Kyung would've told me. I'm not going anywhere, y'know?"
"My star mate isn't Seonghwa," I repeat myself, seeing Yeosang's eyes grow wide in realisation.
"San!?"
"Yeah," I nod my head, pursing my lips and twirl my pen in my fingers, accidentally flicking it across the table.
Yeosang tilts his head. "Ah... that's pretty understandable. What about him? Has he gotten his yet? If he has, then does he know?"
"Well, that's the thing, Yeo," I tell him quietly, "his star mate... it's you."
Next to me, my best friend chokes on air. I let out a small gasp, quickly patting his back as he coughs it away. Well... I expected that but I didn't expect it either. Actually no, never mind, this is the most 'Yeosang' reaction I could get.
Once he's recovered a little, he sits back up a little straighter, cheeks a little pink from the blood rush and eyes a little watered. It glows a little green, like a small spark in his irises and I have to ball my fists at that. The mark is reacting to the news.
"Oh," is what he first breathes out, "oh."
"Yeah, oh," I say back.
Yeosang shifts a little in his seat, letting out an awkward hum as he readjusts his sitting position. I notice him picking his fingers, cracking his knuckles when they don't need to be cracked at all and his gaze wandering aimlessly around the room. It makes sense that he's reacting this way because for all I know, it could've gone a lot worse. No, maybe this is the best result. I can't imagine what it would be like if there any better reactions than this. If there are then... I really won't know how to feel.
I try to read his expression. We both don't speak, the silence was a bit too suffocating but maybe it's better that way? After all, Yeosang can take this time to organise his thoughts meanwhile I can try to prepare with whatever he'll say.
The clock tells me that it had only been several minutes since we started the conversation. It kind of bums me out; I can't use the excuse of "I need to hurry up because the deadline is in a few minutes and I have to get this done, good bye, have a great day" to distract myself. So I'm left with the sea of my own thoughts, my fingers peeling off old dried acrylic on the surface of the table.
"How―" he finally breaks the silence, "how are you two going to go from here?"
"To be honest, I don't know," I tell him, "I mean, technically you're supposed to be with Hwa and I'm supposed to be with San. But we're not."
"Have you told San?" Yeosang asks.
I shake my head no.
He hums disapprovingly. "You have to tell him soon. It's not fair on him too."
"I know," I mumble. Before I get lost into more useless thoughts, I shake my head to clear them and continue on filling in my form. "I will. And you need to talk with Hwa too. You guys have been without each other for years, it's only right that you do."
"Your scale of priority to reconnect is higher than mine with Hwa's," there's a slight shake in my voice but I hope Yeosang didn't hear that. "And I guess, with me and San. You guys were from the same star, I can't change that. And I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For keeping you guys apart? If I didn't try to open Hwa's bandage then who knows when we'd know. You, Sang, can easily say that you don't care any more but I can see it, okay, that you still do. Even if it's just a tiny bit. I mean," I force a small laugh, "you were always so excited when Hwa wrote you something. You can't say that you don't give a shit."
Yeosang hugs me. "Thanks for telling me," he pats my back, "you can cry, I'm not looking. I understand, Hwa and I will talk but you should too. With San."
I blow a raspberry. "I'm not going to cry, did that too much," I say, despite the water-blurred vision I'm seeing.
"I don't know if you've noticed, 'Shin," he says when we pull away, reaching out for a tissue across the table before handing it to me. "Seonghwa? He looks at you like you're his world and I besides, don't see him that way. At least, not in this life, no. Not for now anyways and that will be for a long, long time."
"You two act like you're the ones with the same marks, not me or San," he continues, "do I feel better now that I know it's Hwa? Yeah, pretty glad, actually. At least I know that some time in the next life or maybe the previous life, one of us was responsible."
I laugh at that. Okay, that's true.
"So what I'm saying is, I know now. It's great, fills the curiosity hole I've left untouched in the back of my mind for so long. Now all you need to do is tell San about it, don't worry about Seonghwa and I."
I find myself nodding at what he said. I really should talk with San soon.
"I thought you were going to react worse than this, you know?" I say as I get to the last page of the form, getting ready to fill in the details of my last art piece―my mark.
"Eh, if you think about it, it could've gone a lot worse. I'm just shocked, I think. Didn't expect it to be someone so close. Give me a few hours to let it sink in and I'll get over it," Yeosang grins, "but it's only natural that I feel kinda jealous right? Even though I don't like him that way?"
I roll my eyes, "'course. It's a star thing, don't worry, I get it. At least I know why I've always felt kind of uneasy whenever Wooyoung comes round to hang out with San and I."
Yeosang goes on a talking rant, something along the lines of his coursework and the shitty professor who gave him five pages of questions to answer by tomorrow morning. I, on the other hand, am staring down at the sheet of paper in front of me.
Title of piece (please write in capital).
I glance at the last canvas on the drying rack. Considering everything that has happened the past few days, my mind works to find the perfect title for this centerpiece. There are so many words I can name it with; I could have gone with the name of stars like the other pieces, or other space objects to keep it in theme with the universe. However, no matter how good the name I come up with at the top of my head, only one is seemingly fit even though it doesn't.
My hand scribbles 'MOUNTAIN' underneath the instruction.