Of Palettes and Surfboards - Part 1
A/N: I really wanted this as a oneshot because the last thing I wanted was to do another on-going. I'll try to do this as a 2-parter, or 3, the max. It won't be too long, so, bear with me!
Sooyoung squinted at the rather large, elongated object propped up ostentatiously in a corner of her artist friend's small, cluttered studio. Sidestepping a palette and other art paraphernalia left lying on the floor, she inched closer. She reached out a hand and was about to touch said object when her friend came in, wagging her finger.
" Ah-ah. Dooon't touch it! "
"Okaay... sheesh! " Sooyoung held up both hands as if in surrender. Her friend handed her a mug of steaming, hot coffee which she gladly accepted, inhaling its wonderful aroma in an exaggerated manner, "Mmm....aaahh...Gawd, how I've missed your coffee! "
" I sometimes think you visit me only for my coffee," her friend accused.
"That's so not true, " Sooyoung objected, before taking a slow, appreciative sip of the bittersweet brew. " You know I love you and I've missed you. Heck, you've been away, like, forever ! "
" It's only been six months, Sooyoung."
" To me, that's an eternity. See? That's how much I've missed you, and you think I'm only here for your stupid coffee."
" Oh joy! Oh bliss! I'm totally convinced... " Her friend flailed her arms about in mock exultance," ...not."
" You're hateful, you know that? " Then, changing the subject, and pointing to the object in the corner, Sooyoung asked, " So, how'd you manage to lug that - thing - all the way home?"
" The same way I lugged my other stuff home," the other girl replied, matter-of-factly." And I'm sure you know that it's a surfboard?"
"Yeah, that's right, insult me, why don't you? That's what you do best after all. But since when did lazy art geek transform into sporty surfer chick?" Sooyoung looked her friend over, suspiciously.
With just that hint of a smile on her face, the other girl smoothed her hand slowly, and deliberately, over the surface of the surfboard, all the while smiling secretly, seemingly deriving some kind of self-gratification from the act. There was something almost erotic about the manner in which her hand had glided across that surfboard. Akin to how one would touch one's lover's body with the same sensual, feather-light touches.
This is how I remember touching her.
" You're creeping me out, " Sooyoung said, with a shudder, as she watched her friend continue to molest the inanimate object. "You even have an idea how perverted you look, the way you're fondling that thing? Sort of like a byuntae running his sweaty hand over some sweet, young thing's thigh."
Do I come close to being a byuntae? Was my hand sweaty when I touched her?
Her friend merely shrugged, ignoring her caustic remark as she continued to smooth her hand over the fiberglass surface of the electric-blue and psychadelic-orange surfboard which had a small, crudely hand-painted, lime-green palm tree at the bottom right corner.
Sooyoung's sharp eyes caught something scribbled underneath that tree. A couple of small letters with a red heart in the middle.
Bending down for a better look, she read aloud, " K -Y - R heart J - J ." Then, straightening her lanky frame, began, " You know, this looks familiar. Okay, you're JJ, but who in almighty hell is K.....Y..." But her words trailed off as she looked quizzically at her friend, then asked, "She gave you her favourite surfboard? The two of you...really? Are you guys...?"
Jessica Jung only smiled, a faraway look in her eyes.
***
Alone in her studio later that evening, Jessica removed the canvas sheet covering some paintings that she had left standing on the floor next to that surfboard. They were the fruits of her labour for the past six months or so.
Jessica winced, thinking how Sooyoung, despite being eagle-eyed, had missed them, nosily focusing all her attention on that surfboard instead, questioning her endlessly about her relationship with its former owner.
Filtering through the art pieces contemplatively, she picked out one and set it gingerly on her easel. Perching herself on her high stool, and tilting her head at an angle as if that would give her a better view, she admired it, a sense of satisfaction engulfing her.
It was a watercolour painting of a young lady lying asleep in bed. The subject was lying on her side, with her back to the artist at the time it was painted.
She was nude.
Jessica drank in every single detail of the painting, unblinkingly, mesmerized by the curvaceous body frame of the subject - those well-defined shoulders, long, dark hair cascading about them; the gentle swell of a partially-visible breast; the undulating waist that dipped, then rose as it adjoined slender hips; the pair of dimples in the small of her back; the generous curves of twin lobes that constitute her derriere; the contours of her sinewy, long legs.
It wasn't her best but it was definitely her favourite. Of course, it hadn't been that long since she had captured the subject on canvas. The memory of that particularly warm, lazy afternoon was still freshly, and would perhaps always be permanently, etched in her mind.
Admittedly, she had always felt an odd stirring in her loins each time she had looked at the painting, at her, and undeniably, she was feeling it all too strongly now. She could almost sense that thick scent of sex wafting around her( if, indeed, sex even had a distinctive smell at all ), reminiscent of the activities that subject and artist had been engaged in prior to the painting of that picture.
Blame it on her artist's overly vivid sense of imagination, if you will.
She shook her head vigorously, as if that would help in ridding her mind of libidinous thoughts. It didn't, and she had to fight back the lascivious urge to stuff her hand down the front of her shorts.
Seriously? You were thinking of jilling off to a painting? Just change your name to Wanksica Jung already!
Ashamed, she likened herself to some pubescent teenaged boy looking at a dirty magazine. She tore her eyes away from the painting and averted her gaze, directing it instead towards that surfboard in the corner, focusing on the tiny letters at the bottom that had earlier caught Sooyoung's unwanted attention.
"KYR heart JJ."
She groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. She knew getting any sleep would be futile.
She reached for her sketchbook, retrieved the pencil conveniently tucked behind her ear, and started sketching away feverishly. It was only another one of many that she'd sketched since returning to Seoul a fortnight ago - all from memory, of course. The same subject - a tall, slim girl, sometimes in bikini top and board shorts, holding on to a surfboard, or wrapped in a batik sarong, but usually unclad, as in au naturale, wearing only the very skin she came to this world in.
***
Freshly-showered, she ventured outside, making her way to the verandah that ran the entire length of the side of the small, beach-front house, settling down comfortably on the rattan daybed. A light breeze blew in from the sea, caressing her hair, tousling it a tad, and she absent-mindedly brushed aside the few strands that had strayed across her face.
She drew her legs up, hugging them to her chest, as she listened to the sounds of the evening. Amidst the incessant roar of the waves crashing against the shore, there was the repetitious chorus of insects in their natural habitats - a tuneless, high-pitched chirping that she had grown accustomed to hearing, lulling her to sleep each night. A low drone drifted over from the house next door, and cackles of laughter could be heard; the neighbours were watching something funny on TV, perhaps?
Everything sounded familiar, but still, there was something missing. Someone's voice - clear, melodious, and somewhat childlike - bantering with her over the silliest issues, as they sat there most evenings after dinner.
She could almost envision that head of chestnut-brown hair lying on her lap, softly singing some non-descript song.
It hadn't been too long ago, and she remembered, wistfully, the countless times she had lowered her head to plant a kiss on that person's nose, right there on that daybed. It also hadn't been that long ago when she would wake up in the morning to the feel of a pair of soft, moist lips kissing her on her shoulder; a warm body pressed against her back. Or eating breakfast right there on that verandah, a bare foot playfully, and sensually, brushing up the length of her tanned leg, under the table.
Indeed, it really didn't take much for Kwon Yuri to realise just how much she had missed Jessica Jung.
***
She remembered how it all began - with a long distance phone call from a well-meaning friend.
"Are you out of your freakin' mind, Choi Sooyoung?" Kwon Yuri growled into the phone. " No way! Those friends of yours you sent last year - that Double T couple - drove me nuts! I hardly slept a wink the whole week they were staying at my place! And after that, the short, blonde one with the horrifying aegyo? Ugh...I had to practically fight her off me."
"Taeng and Tiff? Sunny?"
"I know I'm gay, but dammit, this isn't LezCentral, alright?"
"Gee, I'm sorry Double T kept you awake. They're so much in love they can't help makin' whoopee. Ahaha, Sunny... well, yeah... she's rather touchy-feely, but you'll like this one. Trust me."
"Trust you? But Sooyoung, half-a-effing-year? "
"Hey, it's not like she's freeloading off you or anything," Sooyoung reasoned. " She'll pay for board and lodging. Just what a poor, struggling surfing instructor like yourself need to help pay the rent, utilities, you know, the likes."
"She's an artist, did you say?" Somehow, the prospects of someone helping with the bills for six months was really rather appealing to Kwon Yuri, but - "I hate arty-farty types."
"Well, yeeaah, she can't help being arty-farty, but she's nice - really," Sooyoung coaxed, and as an afterthought, added, "And very pretty. Your type."
"And what exactly is my type?"
"You know - "
"No, I do not know. What are you? Some kind of pimp?"
Silence reigned for a bit over the line before Sooyoung breathed, cautiously, "Uh, this pimp hates to remind you, but it's been ages since you broke up with what's-her-name? Don't you think it's about time you let someone into your life again? You gotta move on, gurrrl!"
"I'm perfectly happy the way I am now." Yuri scowled into the phone.
"Then why are you still hiding over there? Aren't you ever coming home? Geez, that was more than two years ago that you dragged me off backpacking with you to help you get over things, and you ended up staying! " Sooyoung rattled on. "And wipe that stupid scowl off your face."
"Who says I'm hiding? I stayed because I really like it here." And feeling terribly indignant, " How the heck d'you even know I'm scowling?"
"Never mind how I know," and then again, cautiously, as if she was about to step on a landmine, Sooyoung asked, "Aren't you ever going to bury the hatchet with your father and let bygones be bygones? Yuri, you are aware that there's an entire business empire here waiting for you to help oversee, don't you?"
Sooyoung braced herself, expecting a string of abusive words, but instead, she heard bitter laughter emanating from the other end of the line.
"Does it look like I give a damn? Until my old man accepts the team I swing for, stops interfering with my love life, and understands that he'll never have a son-in-law, nothing doing," came her friend's surprisingly calm reply, with none of the angst Sooyoung had been anticipating.
"Hmm...yeah, I guess I understand why you gave up swanky apartment and flashy Benz for wooden hut and old boneshaker...." Then, remembering her mission, " So? "
"So? What d'you mean So? "
"So, as in SO, CAN I SEND HER OVER? C'mon, Yul, stop being an anti-social jerk. Jessica only needs somewhere to stay, paint, and do her stuff. Besides, you'll have some female company, which is good for you, since you've been hanging too much around surfer dude types."
Again silence over the line. Sooyoung knew her friend was pondering hard over the issue, weighing the pros and cons of allowing some arty-farty stranger the run of her place, intruding into her privacy, and for six months, too.
"Yul, you still there?"
Finally, "Yeah."
"Well?"
"You did say she's nice?"
"Very."
"She's not one of those weird artist types who goes around the house naked? Maybe in search of artistic inspiration...you know...that kind of crap?"
"Not that I know of but I'll ask if she's into exhibitionism. But, uhm, don't you have the weirdest habit yourself, now to come to think of it? Hellooo? Sleeping in the buff?"
"What I do in the privacy of my own room is none of your business. "
"Whatever! So, Jessica...?"
"Fiiine. I'll have her.... if only for pecuniary interests."
Unbeknownst to Kwon Yuri, everything turned out to be far more than just "pecuniary interests".
***
It had been a gruelling 12 hours since flying out of Incheon, inclusive of time spent in transit in Singapore, waiting for her connecting flight to Denpasar, but exhausted as she was, Jessica Jung was elated. She had finally arrived at her destination - the exotic and mystical Island of the Gods, Bali.
Exiting customs, lugging two bulging suitcases behind her, she stepped out hesitantly to Arrivals, on the lookout for a Korean-looking face, but instead, saw an elderly local holding up a placard with "MISS JESSICA JUNG" written across it in bold print.
She stopped before the old man, pointed at the placard and then at herself. "That's me."
An amiable, toothy smile graced his wrinkly, weather-beaten face, and he said in halting English, "Aaah! Good, good! Miss Yuri not come airport. She ask Pak Made - ", he pointed to himself, " come airport fetch Miss Jessica to house. "
"Kwon Yuri asked you to come fetch me?" Jessica wanted to be absolutely sure she had heard the old man correctly.
"Yes, yes, Kwon Yuri. " The old man reached for her luggage, and beckoned. "Come, come. We go now."
***
The old jeep turned into an unpaved driveway and pulled up in front of a smallish, single-storey wooden house, illuminated by the weak glow of a lamp left burning in the front porch.
Jessica followed Pak Made into the house, and was surprised at the old man's familiarity with the place, the way he knew exactly where all the light switches were, and such.
"Kitchen," Pak Made said, leading her into the kitchen, flicking on the light switch. He pointed first to the fridge, then at a fruit bowl and a loaf of bread on the table. " Makan?"
Jessica blinked, repeating after him, "Uh..makan?"
" Eat. You hungry - " the old man rubbed his pot belly to ensure that Jessica understood, " - make food, eat. Okay?"
"Ah, I see. Yes, thank you. I'll make myself some food if I'm hungry."
The old man beamed at her, glad that she had understood his limited English. He then led her to her room, switched on the light and dragged her luggage in.
"You sleep, here."
Jessica looked around the no-frills room. A queen-sized bed pushed against the wall on one side, a bedside table, a small writing desk and chair, a wicker couch, a closet, and there was a door that led to the verandah outside.
She then asked the all-important question, "Where is Kwon Yuri?"
***
She wondered when her host would return home? Should she wait up? From what she had gathered from Pak Made, Kwon Yuri had gone to fill in for a sick friend who worked in a restaurant at one of the resort hotels. The old man, who lived next door, had been full of praise for her, calling her a "good, good girl".
Bushed, she had simply grabbed a quick shower and gone to bed, after deciding not to wait up, as Pak Made had suggested.
However, some time in the middle of the night, she had woken up with a full bladder and had plodded her way to the bathroom, only to find the door ajar, sounds of splashing water emanating from within. Peering in, she saw, reflected on the mirror, the wet, tanned back of a girl standing under the shower. Feeling like a peeping tom, she had hastily made an about turn and returned to her own room, her ready-to-burst bladder condition temporarily forgotten.
Unofficially, that was Jessica Jung's first glimpse of Kwon Yuri, even if it had only been her bare back.
***
Sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed, casting its warmth upon her shoulders. Jessica Jung, who had been sleeping with her face buried in her pillow, lifted her head, opened her eyes, then groaned irritably when she felt the sunlight hitting directly in her eyes. She scrunched her nose, squeezing shut her eyes, and then dug her arms further beneath her pillow, kicking lazily at the sheets entangled around her ankles.
For someone who seldom got out of bed before noon, she told herself it wouldn't do to wake up too late. After all, it was her first morning in Bali. Besides, she had yet to meet her host - formally.
Shuffling to the kitchen, Jessica was surprised to find breakfast laid out on the table. Nothing fancy, just cereal and toast, with coffee brewing in the percolator on the counter.
Hungry as she was, she did think it would be rude to start breakfast without her host, who was still nowhere in sight. She had just let herself out of the kitchen to the back of the house when she saw a Korean-looking person, a young lady, climbing over the waist-high picket fence that divided the backyard from the neighbour's.
"HELLO!" she called out loudly, striding towards the person.
Kwon Yuri had just straddled one leg over the fence, one hand clutching a bunch of bananas, when Jessica Jung's loud, untimely greeting from behind caught her unawares, startling her, causing her to momentarily lose her balance.
"What the f - ", and before she knew it, she had gone hurtling to the ground.
Hence, that was Jessica's first official meeting with Kwon Yuri, as comical as it turned out to be, for her host was sprawled flat on her back, on the ground, cradling a bunch of bananas to her chest, a dumbfounded expression on her face.
So, this was the super-cool, surfer friend Sooyoung had told her about? Precious!
Stifling a giggle, Jessica attempted to keep a straight face as she stooped down, extending a hand towards her host, fixating her gaze at a very good-looking, tanned face framed by long, dark hair.
"Sorry for startling you. You okay? Need a hand?"
Unnerved at having some stranger staring into her face, albeit a very attractive one, an embarrassed Kwon Yuri sat up, brushing her hair out of her face for want of a bit of composure, handing the bananas to the guest she was meeting for the first time.
"You like bananas?" she asked sheepishly, picking herself up, dusting her bottom ceremoniously, while stealing sideway glances at her guest. She decided that Sooyoung wasn't having her on when she said that Jessica Jung was very pretty. I forgive you, Sooyoung.
"I do, actually."
"I got them from over there." Yuri jerked her head in the direction of her neighbour, Pak Made's house.
"You didn't steal them, did you?" Jessica asked, wide-eyed.
"Don't need to. We know each other well. They help themselves to my mangoes whenever they're in season, too." Yuri pointed to a tree laden with green, unripe fruits.
"That's neighbourliness for you, I guess."
"Totally un-cool, meeting a guest for the first time like this, but hey, welcome to Bali...uh... Jessica? I'm...uhm...Yuri." Remembering her manners, she extended her hand, and when the other girl took it, she marvelled at the softness and warmth of her guest's smaller hand. She held it a little longer than was necessary.
"First impressions go a long way. Thanks, Yuri." Jessica revelled a bit in the strength with which her host had grasped her hand, and was just a tad disappointed when it was finally released. She wouldn't have minded it being held a little longer.
"Something to tell Blabbermouth about back home? "
"Mm...maybe. I am a bit of a snitch." A bat of eyelashes.
"Can you pos-si-bly be bribed not to tell her?" A subtle smile, a lingering glance.
"I suddenly have a craving for scrambled eggs..." Jessica looked at her host squarely in the eye, an eyebrow raised, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.
"You're looking at the best scrambler of eggs this side of the world."
"Then I guess what Sooyoung doesn't know won't hurt her."
Yuri was beginning to warm up to her guest, as she flashed her the lopsided smile she sometimes reserved for a potential flame. "Breakfast?"
*** tbc
A/N:
I looked up the Internet for these -
* Pak - how you would address an elderly male person in Indonesia . Sort of means "father", I think.
** makan - "eat" in Indonesian
Sooyoung squinted at the rather large, elongated object propped up ostentatiously in a corner of her artist friend's small, cluttered studio. Sidestepping a palette and other art paraphernalia left lying on the floor, she inched closer. She reached out a hand and was about to touch said object when her friend came in, wagging her finger.
" Ah-ah. Dooon't touch it! "
"Okaay... sheesh! " Sooyoung held up both hands as if in surrender. Her friend handed her a mug of steaming, hot coffee which she gladly accepted, inhaling its wonderful aroma in an exaggerated manner, "Mmm....aaahh...Gawd, how I've missed your coffee! "
" I sometimes think you visit me only for my coffee," her friend accused.
"That's so not true, " Sooyoung objected, before taking a slow, appreciative sip of the bittersweet brew. " You know I love you and I've missed you. Heck, you've been away, like, forever ! "
" It's only been six months, Sooyoung."
" To me, that's an eternity. See? That's how much I've missed you, and you think I'm only here for your stupid coffee."
" Oh joy! Oh bliss! I'm totally convinced... " Her friend flailed her arms about in mock exultance," ...not."
" You're hateful, you know that? " Then, changing the subject, and pointing to the object in the corner, Sooyoung asked, " So, how'd you manage to lug that - thing - all the way home?"
" The same way I lugged my other stuff home," the other girl replied, matter-of-factly." And I'm sure you know that it's a surfboard?"
"Yeah, that's right, insult me, why don't you? That's what you do best after all. But since when did lazy art geek transform into sporty surfer chick?" Sooyoung looked her friend over, suspiciously.
With just that hint of a smile on her face, the other girl smoothed her hand slowly, and deliberately, over the surface of the surfboard, all the while smiling secretly, seemingly deriving some kind of self-gratification from the act. There was something almost erotic about the manner in which her hand had glided across that surfboard. Akin to how one would touch one's lover's body with the same sensual, feather-light touches.
This is how I remember touching her.
" You're creeping me out, " Sooyoung said, with a shudder, as she watched her friend continue to molest the inanimate object. "You even have an idea how perverted you look, the way you're fondling that thing? Sort of like a byuntae running his sweaty hand over some sweet, young thing's thigh."
Do I come close to being a byuntae? Was my hand sweaty when I touched her?
Her friend merely shrugged, ignoring her caustic remark as she continued to smooth her hand over the fiberglass surface of the electric-blue and psychadelic-orange surfboard which had a small, crudely hand-painted, lime-green palm tree at the bottom right corner.
Sooyoung's sharp eyes caught something scribbled underneath that tree. A couple of small letters with a red heart in the middle.
Bending down for a better look, she read aloud, " K -Y - R heart J - J ." Then, straightening her lanky frame, began, " You know, this looks familiar. Okay, you're JJ, but who in almighty hell is K.....Y..." But her words trailed off as she looked quizzically at her friend, then asked, "She gave you her favourite surfboard? The two of you...really? Are you guys...?"
Jessica Jung only smiled, a faraway look in her eyes.
***
Alone in her studio later that evening, Jessica removed the canvas sheet covering some paintings that she had left standing on the floor next to that surfboard. They were the fruits of her labour for the past six months or so.
Jessica winced, thinking how Sooyoung, despite being eagle-eyed, had missed them, nosily focusing all her attention on that surfboard instead, questioning her endlessly about her relationship with its former owner.
Filtering through the art pieces contemplatively, she picked out one and set it gingerly on her easel. Perching herself on her high stool, and tilting her head at an angle as if that would give her a better view, she admired it, a sense of satisfaction engulfing her.
It was a watercolour painting of a young lady lying asleep in bed. The subject was lying on her side, with her back to the artist at the time it was painted.
She was nude.
Jessica drank in every single detail of the painting, unblinkingly, mesmerized by the curvaceous body frame of the subject - those well-defined shoulders, long, dark hair cascading about them; the gentle swell of a partially-visible breast; the undulating waist that dipped, then rose as it adjoined slender hips; the pair of dimples in the small of her back; the generous curves of twin lobes that constitute her derriere; the contours of her sinewy, long legs.
It wasn't her best but it was definitely her favourite. Of course, it hadn't been that long since she had captured the subject on canvas. The memory of that particularly warm, lazy afternoon was still freshly, and would perhaps always be permanently, etched in her mind.
Admittedly, she had always felt an odd stirring in her loins each time she had looked at the painting, at her, and undeniably, she was feeling it all too strongly now. She could almost sense that thick scent of sex wafting around her( if, indeed, sex even had a distinctive smell at all ), reminiscent of the activities that subject and artist had been engaged in prior to the painting of that picture.
Blame it on her artist's overly vivid sense of imagination, if you will.
She shook her head vigorously, as if that would help in ridding her mind of libidinous thoughts. It didn't, and she had to fight back the lascivious urge to stuff her hand down the front of her shorts.
Seriously? You were thinking of jilling off to a painting? Just change your name to Wanksica Jung already!
Ashamed, she likened herself to some pubescent teenaged boy looking at a dirty magazine. She tore her eyes away from the painting and averted her gaze, directing it instead towards that surfboard in the corner, focusing on the tiny letters at the bottom that had earlier caught Sooyoung's unwanted attention.
"KYR heart JJ."
She groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. She knew getting any sleep would be futile.
She reached for her sketchbook, retrieved the pencil conveniently tucked behind her ear, and started sketching away feverishly. It was only another one of many that she'd sketched since returning to Seoul a fortnight ago - all from memory, of course. The same subject - a tall, slim girl, sometimes in bikini top and board shorts, holding on to a surfboard, or wrapped in a batik sarong, but usually unclad, as in au naturale, wearing only the very skin she came to this world in.
***
Freshly-showered, she ventured outside, making her way to the verandah that ran the entire length of the side of the small, beach-front house, settling down comfortably on the rattan daybed. A light breeze blew in from the sea, caressing her hair, tousling it a tad, and she absent-mindedly brushed aside the few strands that had strayed across her face.
She drew her legs up, hugging them to her chest, as she listened to the sounds of the evening. Amidst the incessant roar of the waves crashing against the shore, there was the repetitious chorus of insects in their natural habitats - a tuneless, high-pitched chirping that she had grown accustomed to hearing, lulling her to sleep each night. A low drone drifted over from the house next door, and cackles of laughter could be heard; the neighbours were watching something funny on TV, perhaps?
Everything sounded familiar, but still, there was something missing. Someone's voice - clear, melodious, and somewhat childlike - bantering with her over the silliest issues, as they sat there most evenings after dinner.
She could almost envision that head of chestnut-brown hair lying on her lap, softly singing some non-descript song.
It hadn't been too long ago, and she remembered, wistfully, the countless times she had lowered her head to plant a kiss on that person's nose, right there on that daybed. It also hadn't been that long ago when she would wake up in the morning to the feel of a pair of soft, moist lips kissing her on her shoulder; a warm body pressed against her back. Or eating breakfast right there on that verandah, a bare foot playfully, and sensually, brushing up the length of her tanned leg, under the table.
Indeed, it really didn't take much for Kwon Yuri to realise just how much she had missed Jessica Jung.
***
She remembered how it all began - with a long distance phone call from a well-meaning friend.
"Are you out of your freakin' mind, Choi Sooyoung?" Kwon Yuri growled into the phone. " No way! Those friends of yours you sent last year - that Double T couple - drove me nuts! I hardly slept a wink the whole week they were staying at my place! And after that, the short, blonde one with the horrifying aegyo? Ugh...I had to practically fight her off me."
"Taeng and Tiff? Sunny?"
"I know I'm gay, but dammit, this isn't LezCentral, alright?"
"Gee, I'm sorry Double T kept you awake. They're so much in love they can't help makin' whoopee. Ahaha, Sunny... well, yeah... she's rather touchy-feely, but you'll like this one. Trust me."
"Trust you? But Sooyoung, half-a-effing-year? "
"Hey, it's not like she's freeloading off you or anything," Sooyoung reasoned. " She'll pay for board and lodging. Just what a poor, struggling surfing instructor like yourself need to help pay the rent, utilities, you know, the likes."
"She's an artist, did you say?" Somehow, the prospects of someone helping with the bills for six months was really rather appealing to Kwon Yuri, but - "I hate arty-farty types."
"Well, yeeaah, she can't help being arty-farty, but she's nice - really," Sooyoung coaxed, and as an afterthought, added, "And very pretty. Your type."
"And what exactly is my type?"
"You know - "
"No, I do not know. What are you? Some kind of pimp?"
Silence reigned for a bit over the line before Sooyoung breathed, cautiously, "Uh, this pimp hates to remind you, but it's been ages since you broke up with what's-her-name? Don't you think it's about time you let someone into your life again? You gotta move on, gurrrl!"
"I'm perfectly happy the way I am now." Yuri scowled into the phone.
"Then why are you still hiding over there? Aren't you ever coming home? Geez, that was more than two years ago that you dragged me off backpacking with you to help you get over things, and you ended up staying! " Sooyoung rattled on. "And wipe that stupid scowl off your face."
"Who says I'm hiding? I stayed because I really like it here." And feeling terribly indignant, " How the heck d'you even know I'm scowling?"
"Never mind how I know," and then again, cautiously, as if she was about to step on a landmine, Sooyoung asked, "Aren't you ever going to bury the hatchet with your father and let bygones be bygones? Yuri, you are aware that there's an entire business empire here waiting for you to help oversee, don't you?"
Sooyoung braced herself, expecting a string of abusive words, but instead, she heard bitter laughter emanating from the other end of the line.
"Does it look like I give a damn? Until my old man accepts the team I swing for, stops interfering with my love life, and understands that he'll never have a son-in-law, nothing doing," came her friend's surprisingly calm reply, with none of the angst Sooyoung had been anticipating.
"Hmm...yeah, I guess I understand why you gave up swanky apartment and flashy Benz for wooden hut and old boneshaker...." Then, remembering her mission, " So? "
"So? What d'you mean So? "
"So, as in SO, CAN I SEND HER OVER? C'mon, Yul, stop being an anti-social jerk. Jessica only needs somewhere to stay, paint, and do her stuff. Besides, you'll have some female company, which is good for you, since you've been hanging too much around surfer dude types."
Again silence over the line. Sooyoung knew her friend was pondering hard over the issue, weighing the pros and cons of allowing some arty-farty stranger the run of her place, intruding into her privacy, and for six months, too.
"Yul, you still there?"
Finally, "Yeah."
"Well?"
"You did say she's nice?"
"Very."
"She's not one of those weird artist types who goes around the house naked? Maybe in search of artistic inspiration...you know...that kind of crap?"
"Not that I know of but I'll ask if she's into exhibitionism. But, uhm, don't you have the weirdest habit yourself, now to come to think of it? Hellooo? Sleeping in the buff?"
"What I do in the privacy of my own room is none of your business. "
"Whatever! So, Jessica...?"
"Fiiine. I'll have her.... if only for pecuniary interests."
Unbeknownst to Kwon Yuri, everything turned out to be far more than just "pecuniary interests".
***
It had been a gruelling 12 hours since flying out of Incheon, inclusive of time spent in transit in Singapore, waiting for her connecting flight to Denpasar, but exhausted as she was, Jessica Jung was elated. She had finally arrived at her destination - the exotic and mystical Island of the Gods, Bali.
Exiting customs, lugging two bulging suitcases behind her, she stepped out hesitantly to Arrivals, on the lookout for a Korean-looking face, but instead, saw an elderly local holding up a placard with "MISS JESSICA JUNG" written across it in bold print.
She stopped before the old man, pointed at the placard and then at herself. "That's me."
An amiable, toothy smile graced his wrinkly, weather-beaten face, and he said in halting English, "Aaah! Good, good! Miss Yuri not come airport. She ask Pak Made - ", he pointed to himself, " come airport fetch Miss Jessica to house. "
"Kwon Yuri asked you to come fetch me?" Jessica wanted to be absolutely sure she had heard the old man correctly.
"Yes, yes, Kwon Yuri. " The old man reached for her luggage, and beckoned. "Come, come. We go now."
***
The old jeep turned into an unpaved driveway and pulled up in front of a smallish, single-storey wooden house, illuminated by the weak glow of a lamp left burning in the front porch.
Jessica followed Pak Made into the house, and was surprised at the old man's familiarity with the place, the way he knew exactly where all the light switches were, and such.
"Kitchen," Pak Made said, leading her into the kitchen, flicking on the light switch. He pointed first to the fridge, then at a fruit bowl and a loaf of bread on the table. " Makan?"
Jessica blinked, repeating after him, "Uh..makan?"
" Eat. You hungry - " the old man rubbed his pot belly to ensure that Jessica understood, " - make food, eat. Okay?"
"Ah, I see. Yes, thank you. I'll make myself some food if I'm hungry."
The old man beamed at her, glad that she had understood his limited English. He then led her to her room, switched on the light and dragged her luggage in.
"You sleep, here."
Jessica looked around the no-frills room. A queen-sized bed pushed against the wall on one side, a bedside table, a small writing desk and chair, a wicker couch, a closet, and there was a door that led to the verandah outside.
She then asked the all-important question, "Where is Kwon Yuri?"
***
She wondered when her host would return home? Should she wait up? From what she had gathered from Pak Made, Kwon Yuri had gone to fill in for a sick friend who worked in a restaurant at one of the resort hotels. The old man, who lived next door, had been full of praise for her, calling her a "good, good girl".
Bushed, she had simply grabbed a quick shower and gone to bed, after deciding not to wait up, as Pak Made had suggested.
However, some time in the middle of the night, she had woken up with a full bladder and had plodded her way to the bathroom, only to find the door ajar, sounds of splashing water emanating from within. Peering in, she saw, reflected on the mirror, the wet, tanned back of a girl standing under the shower. Feeling like a peeping tom, she had hastily made an about turn and returned to her own room, her ready-to-burst bladder condition temporarily forgotten.
Unofficially, that was Jessica Jung's first glimpse of Kwon Yuri, even if it had only been her bare back.
***
Sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed, casting its warmth upon her shoulders. Jessica Jung, who had been sleeping with her face buried in her pillow, lifted her head, opened her eyes, then groaned irritably when she felt the sunlight hitting directly in her eyes. She scrunched her nose, squeezing shut her eyes, and then dug her arms further beneath her pillow, kicking lazily at the sheets entangled around her ankles.
For someone who seldom got out of bed before noon, she told herself it wouldn't do to wake up too late. After all, it was her first morning in Bali. Besides, she had yet to meet her host - formally.
Shuffling to the kitchen, Jessica was surprised to find breakfast laid out on the table. Nothing fancy, just cereal and toast, with coffee brewing in the percolator on the counter.
Hungry as she was, she did think it would be rude to start breakfast without her host, who was still nowhere in sight. She had just let herself out of the kitchen to the back of the house when she saw a Korean-looking person, a young lady, climbing over the waist-high picket fence that divided the backyard from the neighbour's.
"HELLO!" she called out loudly, striding towards the person.
Kwon Yuri had just straddled one leg over the fence, one hand clutching a bunch of bananas, when Jessica Jung's loud, untimely greeting from behind caught her unawares, startling her, causing her to momentarily lose her balance.
"What the f - ", and before she knew it, she had gone hurtling to the ground.
Hence, that was Jessica's first official meeting with Kwon Yuri, as comical as it turned out to be, for her host was sprawled flat on her back, on the ground, cradling a bunch of bananas to her chest, a dumbfounded expression on her face.
So, this was the super-cool, surfer friend Sooyoung had told her about? Precious!
Stifling a giggle, Jessica attempted to keep a straight face as she stooped down, extending a hand towards her host, fixating her gaze at a very good-looking, tanned face framed by long, dark hair.
"Sorry for startling you. You okay? Need a hand?"
Unnerved at having some stranger staring into her face, albeit a very attractive one, an embarrassed Kwon Yuri sat up, brushing her hair out of her face for want of a bit of composure, handing the bananas to the guest she was meeting for the first time.
"You like bananas?" she asked sheepishly, picking herself up, dusting her bottom ceremoniously, while stealing sideway glances at her guest. She decided that Sooyoung wasn't having her on when she said that Jessica Jung was very pretty. I forgive you, Sooyoung.
"I do, actually."
"I got them from over there." Yuri jerked her head in the direction of her neighbour, Pak Made's house.
"You didn't steal them, did you?" Jessica asked, wide-eyed.
"Don't need to. We know each other well. They help themselves to my mangoes whenever they're in season, too." Yuri pointed to a tree laden with green, unripe fruits.
"That's neighbourliness for you, I guess."
"Totally un-cool, meeting a guest for the first time like this, but hey, welcome to Bali...uh... Jessica? I'm...uhm...Yuri." Remembering her manners, she extended her hand, and when the other girl took it, she marvelled at the softness and warmth of her guest's smaller hand. She held it a little longer than was necessary.
"First impressions go a long way. Thanks, Yuri." Jessica revelled a bit in the strength with which her host had grasped her hand, and was just a tad disappointed when it was finally released. She wouldn't have minded it being held a little longer.
"Something to tell Blabbermouth about back home? "
"Mm...maybe. I am a bit of a snitch." A bat of eyelashes.
"Can you pos-si-bly be bribed not to tell her?" A subtle smile, a lingering glance.
"I suddenly have a craving for scrambled eggs..." Jessica looked at her host squarely in the eye, an eyebrow raised, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.
"You're looking at the best scrambler of eggs this side of the world."
"Then I guess what Sooyoung doesn't know won't hurt her."
Yuri was beginning to warm up to her guest, as she flashed her the lopsided smile she sometimes reserved for a potential flame. "Breakfast?"
*** tbc
A/N:
I looked up the Internet for these -
* Pak - how you would address an elderly male person in Indonesia . Sort of means "father", I think.
** makan - "eat" in Indonesian