[ys] Write Me A Tragedy (4/7)
A/N: I hope everyone's been well, and I'm sorry for the long-er wait between chapters. I've been absolutely swarmed since coming back, plus I've been sick. Give me a while to catch up on things (like the writing of this fic), and I hope to have another update for everyone soon!
+++
A few days later, it is Joo-hyun who calls him first.
But it is Min-hyuk, who picks up, on account of him juggling all their personal effects as they trail back to their dressing room to get all their makeup off after their first concert in Dae-jeon. Yong-hwa is in the middle of tussling with Jung-shin, having ragged on the bassist for a wrong note right in the middle of Coffee Shop and Jung-shin has an arm around his neck in a chokehold, when he hears, “Hyungsoo-nim?”
Yong-hwa looks up, the fight forgotten.
True to form, Min-hyuk has his phone pressed to his ear. “Yes, yes… it’s been a long time. How have you been?”
“Yah!” Yong-hwa shouts, struggling now to get out of Jung-shin’s long arms, but the maknae, sensing an advantage to press here, forcibly holds him back. “Stop talking to my wife!”
The papers portray Min-hyuk as the sweet, guileless one of their group, which is a part of their branding. But because Yong-hwa has spent hours on the road with Min-hyuk, he knows the truth of it: Min-hyuk is just like his fellow maknae, Jung-shin - a shit-stirrer through and through.
And true to form, Min-hyuk actually has the gall to step a few steps away from them, talking blithely on as if nothing is wrong. Yong-hwa struggles more at the teasing glint in the drummer’s eye.
“The concert was great, hyungsoo-nim.” Min-hyuk says innocently. “I played great. You should have seen it; a complete drum solo right in the middle of - ”
Yong-hwa manages to break free, but Min-hyuk must see him coming, because he speaks rapidly into the phone, “Sorry, hyungsoo-nim, I think Jung-shin has something he wants to say to you, talktoyoumoresoonbye!”
Yong-hwa jumps too late for it; watching as his very expensive, company-sponsored phone goes flying over his head, smack into the nimble fingers of Jung-shin. At least it didn’t break, like his last few ones. No thanks for small miracles. But Min-hyuk is there, taking his turn at holding him down, even as Jung-shin grins maniacally into the phone. “Hyungsoo-nim, it’s me, Jung-shin.”
“You’re all so dead after this!”
Jung-shin’s grin only widens. “What’s that, hyungsoo-nim? I’m the best-looking one of out of everyone in the band? You shouldn’t, stop making me blush.”
He knows that Jung-shin is only winding him up; that of course, Joo-hyun is saying nothing of the sort, but still. This is the first phone call Joo-hyun has voluntarily made to him since he last saw her in Seoul. Normally, he’d play along with all this teasing, secure in the knowledge of his place in Joo-hyun’s heart, no matter what the boys say. But now, with the divorce that he hasn’t even told Jung-shin or Min-hyuk about either…
“Oh,” Jung-shin says suddenly, his voice losing his teasing edge. Jong-hyun has tapped him on the shoulder and is holding out his hand, waiting. “I think Jong-hyun hyung has something to say to you. I’ll see you soon, hyungsoo-nim!”
Yong-hwa takes this moment of distraction to wrestle himself out of Min-hyuk’s hold.
Jong-hyun puts the phone to his ear, shooting Jung-shin a semi-exasperated, semi-amused expression. “Hey, Seo-hyun. I’m sorry - I think the boys are high from after the concert… Yeah, it went well. How’s work?”
Yong-hwa comes to stand beside his best friend, even as the other two peel off towards the dressing room. Jong-hyun hums into the phone in reply. “Mm, yeah. That sounds tough. You hang in there, you hear? We’ll be back in Seoul in a week. Maybe we can go for tea.”
Great, Yong-hwa thinks wryly. Everyone in the world gets to talk to and hang out with my wife except me.
“Great, I’ll call you.” Jong-hyun says. His eyes flicker in amusement at the look on Yong-hwa’s face. “I think your husband wants me to get off the line now, so I’ll pass you over to him. Take care.”
Yong-hwa shakes his head, finally taking his phone back. “Hey,” He says, breathlessly. “I’m sorry about all that.”
But there is only soft laughter over the phone line, a sound that he hasn’t heard in a very long time, and Yong-hwa can’t help but smile on his end. “I miss the boys.” She says wistfully. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“They miss you too,” Yong-hwa says, looking down at the hallway, where Jung-shin and Min-hyuk are making kissy faces at him, mimicking him on the phone at long range. He gives them the middle finger for their trouble, glad that Joo-hyun sees none of this. “But they’re not the only ones who do.”
The words are out of his mouth, before he can even think about them and Yong-hwa freezes. Is this too much? How much is too much? He has no clue.
There is a pause, a beat between the pair of them, before Joo-hyun decides to not acknowledge what he said, and she goes on. “Anyway,” She continues, suddenly sounding a lot more uncertain than a few seconds ago. “I’m sorry to call like this, I know you must have be tired after the concert. But I had something to ask.”
Please don’t let it be about the divorce papers, Yong-hwa thinks with a jolt. The papers are still lying in a folder, tucked away in a personal rucksack that he’s been carrying on tour. He hasn’t even looked at them past that first day. He makes a mental note to get some legal advice on the papers. Even he is certain the other party can’t just ignore the papers forever, even though that’s what he would really love to do. “Yeah?”
Joo-hyun sighs. “It’s just that… Dad’s been asking about you.”
Yong-hwa’s insides seem to collapse in on themselves in relief. Okay, this I can handle. “Sure. I haven’t seen him in a while either.”
Even across the phone line, Joo-hyun’s hesitation is obvious. “His birthday’s coming up soon. Next week… and I was wondering… if you’d like to join us? I checked your schedule… and I think it was free. Next Tuesday?”
Yong-hwa has to forcibly tamp down the tidal wave of triumph that he feels swelling up in him. Is Joo-hyun actually voluntarily asking me to meet her? He bites down hard on his lip, but he’s pretty sure she can probably hear the blinding grin taking over his face now. Granted, his father-in-law will be there, but Mr Seo has always been supportive of him. Now that he thinks about it, it actually couldn’t hurt to have someone in his corner there when he meets Joo-hyun. “Of course,” He says breezily. “Do you want me to drive down to Seoul? I could pick you up and we could drive to Su-won together.”
But Joo-hyun’s answer is quick enough to quash his rising hope. “No, no. It’s fine… I’ll take the bus and meet you there direct. You know where it is right?”
Baby steps, Yong-hwa, he tells himself. This is a good enough start.
“Yup,” He says. “I know where it is. Should I bring anything?”
He means things like cake, tonics; a present for his father-in-law, but Joo-hyun’s answer stops him in his tracks.
“No.” He hears her swallow on her end of the line and if possible, her voice seems to get even softer. “Just you is fine.”
+++
The plan is a meal at a traditional dumpling restaurant his father-in-law loves, with cake-cutting back at the assisted-living facility that he stays at after. Despite what Joo-hyun had said, Yong-hwa brings along some essentials - cake, whiskey and a present that Jong-hyun had helped him brainstorm for. His father-in-law is not someone to be easily swayed by gifts, but at this point, he figures he needs all the brownie points he can get.
The bell jangles against the glass door as Yong-hwa pushes his way in; a sudden downpour had slowed down traffic leading into Su-won, even though he’d left Dae-jeon on time. Still, he’s only 15 minutes late, which is pretty good all things considered. He spots Joo-hyun and his father-in-law tucked into a corner of the restaurant; she catches his eye and waves him over. Thankfully, she doesn’t look upset.
“Hey,” He says, sliding into his seat. Before he sits down, he presses a kiss, lightning-quick, against the crown of Joo-hyun’s head. He takes care to avoid her eye, half-afraid of her reaction, even as he peels off his jacket. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Yong-hwa looks across the table, and the smile that splits his face is not polite, but genuine. Joo-hyun’s father, his father-in-law, Mr Seo beams at him happily and Yong-hwa can’t help it - he reaches a hand across the table to grasp his father-in-law’s hand. “Dad.”
“Yong-hwa,” The older man returns warmly. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
One of the things that Yong-hwa really, really loves about Joo-hyun is her father. When Joo-hyun had taken him home for the first time, Yong-hwa had worried endlessly about his prospective father-in-law. He expected someone fierce and unbending, a veritable Cerberus protecting his only daughter from any other men. Yong-hwa usually had no trouble winning over anyone, but this time, he was actually afraid - afraid that Joo-hyun’s father would see his charm for what it was - a hollow, empty thing; that he would see that Yong-hwa was a man not worthy of Joo-hyun in any way and somehow forbid them from ever seeing each other again.
Instead, the door to Joo-hyun’s apartment had opened, and there stood Mr Seo, smiling so earnestly at him that every last fear had melted absolutely away.
He hasn’t seen his father-in-law for a few months; the last time he’d visited was during a fan event in Jeon-ju, and he’d made a stop on the way back to Seoul. When they’d first gotten married, Joo-hyun had wanted her father to stay with them in Seoul, something that Yong-hwa had been more than happy to agree with. But Mr Seo had been the one to refuse. He’d insisted that as a married couple, they needed their own time and space, and that Seoul was really too crowded and busy for an old man like him. Instead, he opted to live in an assisted-living complex in Su-won, where he would be close to the other greatest love of his life: Korean history. Some of his friends were also living in the same complex, which had been reassuring to Joo-hyun that he wouldn’t be lonely there.
Between the both of them, they usually manage to see him at least once a month. Yong-hwa’s sure that Joo-hyun makes it down more regularly, although he isn’t sure how she manages it, factoring in her own crazy schedule. He makes a mental note to tell Sang-woo to set aside time in the schedule to visit his father-in-law more regularly.
He had wondered on the way down if Joo-hyun had told her father that she was filing for divorce. But judging by the way his father-in-law is gripping his hand over the table with obvious affection, he knows the answer to that question. Any relief he feels at that is short-lived however, because Yong-hwa is struck with another thought - how disappointed his father-in-law would be in him, if he knew how bad things have gotten between the pair of them.
Somehow, Yong-hwa thinks bearing his father-in-law’s disappointment is infinitely worse than being yelled at, or being beat up, like other fathers might threaten. His stomach tightens at the thought.
“Dad wanted to wait for you before we ordered,” Joo-hyun says gently, breaking into the dismal turn his thoughts have taken.
He shakes his head, tries for a smile. “I know what we’re getting. Dumplings and bibimnengmyeon, right, Dad?”
The older man chuckles, nodding in agreement. Yong-hwa takes this opportunity to stage-whisper across the table, “No alcohol here, but I’ve got something good to go with the cake later.”
Joo-hyun huffs, but Mr Seo winks at him across the table.
Dinner is the best Yong-hwa’s had in a long time. First of all, it’s good eating with company that isn’t the boys, Sang-woo or crew members who came on the tour with them after weeks on the road. The food is simple but hearty and homely, filling him from the inside out. And most of all, Yong-hwa’s heart is absurdly full, as he watches his father-in-law animatedly relate facts about the Hwaseong fortress from a talk he recently attended. Joo-hyun puts a dumpling into his bowl absently, and their knees bump together accidentally under the table a few times. In the middle of his father-in-law’s story, Yong-hwa gets brave; reaches under the table to take Joo-hyun’s hand in his.
She doesn’t pull away. When her fingers lace through his a few minutes later, Yong-hwa’s sure that his heart damn near explodes.
He’s pretty sure his father-in-law knows what’s going on too, judging by the twinkle in his eye.
It’s still raining when they finish up, but they manage to make it back to the complex without getting too drenched. Once they get into the room that belongs to Mr Seo, Joo-hyun busies herself - turning on the heater in the room, boiling water for hot tea. Yong-hwa helps his father-in-law with his wet jacket, and Mr Seo turns on the television, settling into a well-worn chair.
He converges with Joo-hyun in the tiny kitchenette, where she’s setting out three cups. “I’m making you chamomile, okay?” She doesn’t look him in the eye; all a flurry of opening cupboards and taking down jars of tea bags. “It’s good for your throat. I think Dad has honey here too.”
It’s too fucking much for Yong-hwa.
He tugs her towards him; he doesn’t even care if her father can see them from his spot in the living room, and he kisses her soundly, the way he’s been thinking about doing all night. His heart soars when he feels her melt against him, soft and pliant, her hands finding his hips, and he drags her closer. Even having her this close isn’t enough; nothing about this woman is goddamned enough.
But there is a loud intentional cough from the living room, loud enough to break Yong-hwa out of his Joo-hyun induced haze. He draws back, regretfully, but when he opens his eyes, Joo-hyun looks like how he feels inside - dazed, flushed, every emotion laid bare on her face.
He brushes another kiss, feather-light against her forehead, and then forces himself to step away before he gets distracted again. “Help me with the cake?” He proposes instead, setting the box he’d brought into the kitchen on the counter.
Together, they light the candles on the cake - a simple one with cream cheese frosting that he thinks his father-in-law will enjoy. Joo-hyun is the one to bring it out, but Yong-hwa watches as Mr Seo’s eyes glow in the light of the candles, a warm, contented smile seeping over his face. They applaud as Mr Seo makes a wish; settling down in chairs with slices of cake and mugs of warm tea. Yong-hwa breaks out the whiskey he brought, pouring a thin layer for Mr Seo, who clinks glasses with him in a birthday toast.
Yong-hwa feels warmed from the inside out, but he doesn’t think it’s from the tea or alcohol.
Joo-hyun is the first to set down her plate, clapping her hands. “Present time!”
She digs into a bag by her side, pulling out a bulky wrapped present that looks like some kind of clothing. They watch as Mr Seo tears back the paper carefully, and the older man holds up a mossy green knitted sweater, that looks warm and cosy.
“I made it,” Joo-hyun announces, but she reaches out a discerning hand, rubbing at something on the sweater. “There are some holes… it’s not completely perfect, but I think it still turned out better than I expected.”
But Mr Seo is already pulling it on, and when his head pops through the hole, the smile on his face is bright enough to light up the whole room. “I love it, sweetheart,” He tells Joo-hyun, tugging the sleeves into place, and it really is a perfect fit. In Yong-hwa’s mind’s eye, he sees it - Joo-hyun coming home after work to an empty apartment, papers spread out on their kitchen table, abandoned, frowning over her knitting needles. Where did she find the time to do all this? How did she even find the time, the energy?
But looking at Mr Seo, he thinks he knows why. He shouldn’t even try to estimate the kind of love Joo-hyun has for her father.
Mr Seo leans forward then, hugging Joo-hyun. Yong-hwa is in the midst of reaching for his own present when he hears it suddenly.
The television has been on during this time, white noise in the background of their conversation, and Yong-hwa isn’t sure when it actually cuts into his consciousness; but he freezes all the same, because that voice - he knows that voice.
Beside him, he’s sure he can feel Joo-hyun and Mr Seo freeze too.
The song plays on, its volume tinny and low, but the voice is powerful, melodious, distinguishing itself all the same.
Yong-hwa turns around, and there she is. Mrs Seo, now Kim Young-jin, dignified and stately in a hanbok, singing a popular trot song that Yong-hwa half knows from his childhood.
Mr Seo draws back, settling back in his chair now, eyes still fixed on the television. His eyes are not surprised, but fond and gentle. “Still so beautiful,” He murmurs to himself, but he looks at Joo-hyun now, his eyes glassy. “I’ve always said that you get your beauty from her, Joo-hyun.”
Joo-hyun is still, hunched over. She hasn’t turned around to look, but neither does she get up to turn it off. All the while, the song plays gaily in the background.
Mr Seo bites his lip, but his next words are gentle. “She wrote to me, Joo-hyun. She has a concert in Su-won coming up… and she’ll be coming by to see me.”
Yong-hwa looks at Joo-hyun, whose hair has fallen forward to screen her face. This stillness, this silence - it’s too unnatural for Joo-hyun. He doesn’t like it; doesn’t like what it forebodes.
Mr Seo’s throat bobs. “I… I was hoping you would come down, join us. It would be sometime next month,” He looks over at Yong-hwa, appealing. “If Yong-hwa could join us too, that would be -”
Joo-hyun stands so suddenly that Yong-hwa rocks back in his seat in surprise.
She is by the television in two steps, switching off the box with a violent click and the silence that fills the room in its aftermath is too loud, oppressive. Yong-hwa stands slowly, approaching Joo-hyun. Her back is turned to the pair of them, but he can see her shoulders heaving, a sure sign of her anger. Tread carefully. He puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hyun.”
She whirls around so quickly, dislodging his hand in the process but her eyes are fiery. “No,” She says, her voice shaking. “No, I will not join you, and Yong-hwa will not join you. She shouldn’t even be writing to you, let alone meeting you. What were you thinking?!”
Mr Seo opens his mouth, but it’s like he can’t find the words.
Joo-hyun inahles jerkily, and her lower lids are reddening with imminent tears. “Do you not remember?” She says and it’s barely a whisper, but it carries in the dead air of the room. “Do you not remember that she left us? That she walked out on us, without so much as a letter to tell us why?”
She sniffs, and he sees a tear break free but the ferocity on her face is no less diminished. “She’ll never see me again.” Joo-hyun pronounces with dead, awful finality. “She lost that right years ago. She made that choice.”
Joo-hyun presses her sleeve against her wet cheeks, and she stumbles out of the room into the kitchenette without another word.
Yong-hwa makes to follow her, but Mr Seo is the one who stops him in his tracks, grabbing hold of his wrist. “Yong-hwa.” The older man shakes his head, tries and fails for a smile. “Let’s give her a few minutes.”
In the kitchenette, he hears it; the faint sound of gulping, of breathless hiccups and he knows Joo-hyun is trying to hold it together, trying to pull herself together for both of them, but his heart still aches for her - aches for his wife, for the pain she’s carried since she was a child, for pain that he knows he will never be able to tear from her heart.
Mr Seo sighs then, sinking his face into his hands. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Yong-hwa touches his father-in-law’s shoulder. “No, Dad.” He sneaks a look back at the kitchenette. “I just... I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Mr Seo breathes. “Even when she left me, I always tried to tell Joo-hyun that this was not her fault. That her mother was just following her dreams, but… but I think I just never changed my daughter’s mind about her mother.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried so hard to get them to meet, to talk, but our Joo-hyun… our Joo-hyun.”
Mr Seo trails off hopelessly, but Yong-hwa knows what his father-in-law means. Some wounds go too deep. Joo-hyun will never forgive her mother.
“She gets the best parts of her from her mother,” Mr Seo says, brokenly. “I just wish she could see that.”
She does know that, Yong-hwa thinks. And she hates those parts of her. It’s why I never hear her sing. Because she knows where her voice came from, and she wants to forget that side of her ever existed.
But these are not things he can say to his obviously distraught father-in-law, and so Yong-hwa only settles for covering the older man’s hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, Dad.”
Mr Seo smiles at him then, but it’s heartbreaking for all the sadness in it. “You’re a good boy, Yong-hwa.” He looks back at the now-quiet kitchenette, a sign that Joo-hyun will soon emerge again. “Please take good care of our Joo-hyun.”
The words should mean so much to him, but they only serve as a bitter reminder that Yong-hwa too, has failed Joo-hyun. He swallows, fingers curling into the bed of his palm. “I promise.”
They sit like that in silence, until Joo-hyun bustles out of the kitchen again, her eyes decidedly dry and a pot of warm water in her hands. “Thought I’d top up the tea again,” She says in her usual manner, brisk and pleasant. But when she sets the pot down, she reaches over to hug her father, a silent apology for lashing out like that. Over her shoulder, Yong-hwa can see it: the relief in Mr Seo’s eyes, but also a deep sadness for the faultlines that run through their family, through his daughter.
“My turn now,” Yong-hwa says as cheerfully as he can, when Joo-hyun has resettled herself in the chair next to him. He pulls out his own wrapped package. “Here, Dad.”
Mr Seo looks intrigued, turning it over in his hands - a square shaped package, whose shape gives it away immediately. “I must say I’m surprised, Yong-hwa. This seems more like the type of present our Joo-hyun would give me.”
“Guess your daughter’s ways have been rubbing off on me,” Yong-hwa teases. He leans forward in his seat now, a little nervous. “Open it, Dad.”
Mr Seo unpeels the paper from the tape, and Yong-hwa is rewarded when his father-in-law’s eyes widen, and there is a gasp of pleased surprise. Even Joo-hyun gets up from her chair, comes around and sits on the arm of her father’s chair for a better look.
“It’s a book of poetry, Dad,” He explains anxiously. “A compilation of poetry from Su-won’s best poets, and poetry about the Korean War, how the city changed hands…” He trails off a little, since there are no comments forthcoming from either father or daughter. “I read online that it gives a better perspective into Su-won’s history. And… I got you a large sized print, so that it doesn’t strain your eyes too much.”
Joo-hyun is the first to look up, and the way she looks at him is something he can’t quite decipher. There’s surprise mingled in there, but mostly a thoughtfulness that he can’t read - almost as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
But Mr Seo chuckles, and he touches Joo-hyun’s knee gently. “I hate to say this, sweetheart, but I think Yong-hwa’s got you beat in the present department this year.”
Yong-hwa’s mouth drops open, because no way he can compare with a hand-knitted sweater; it’s just a book he got online - but he catches the teasing glint in his father-in-law’s eyes, the genuine happiness, the way his father-in-law has already has a finger within pages of the book to mark his place. Mr Seo extends his other hand to him, which Yong-hwa draws nearer to take. “It’s wonderful. Thank you, Yong-hwa.”
Yong-hwa squeezes his hand back in return, “I’m glad you like it, Dad.”
“Now,” Mr Seo says, already turning his attention back to the book. “Let’s take a look at this. Oh look, Joo-hyun, look at that rendering of the fortress. Beautiful!”
Yong-hwa catches Joo-hyun’s eye over the book, and in that split second where she smiles at him, it feels like just maybe, everything in his world is right again.
+++
A few days later, it is Joo-hyun who calls him first.
But it is Min-hyuk, who picks up, on account of him juggling all their personal effects as they trail back to their dressing room to get all their makeup off after their first concert in Dae-jeon. Yong-hwa is in the middle of tussling with Jung-shin, having ragged on the bassist for a wrong note right in the middle of Coffee Shop and Jung-shin has an arm around his neck in a chokehold, when he hears, “Hyungsoo-nim?”
Yong-hwa looks up, the fight forgotten.
True to form, Min-hyuk has his phone pressed to his ear. “Yes, yes… it’s been a long time. How have you been?”
“Yah!” Yong-hwa shouts, struggling now to get out of Jung-shin’s long arms, but the maknae, sensing an advantage to press here, forcibly holds him back. “Stop talking to my wife!”
The papers portray Min-hyuk as the sweet, guileless one of their group, which is a part of their branding. But because Yong-hwa has spent hours on the road with Min-hyuk, he knows the truth of it: Min-hyuk is just like his fellow maknae, Jung-shin - a shit-stirrer through and through.
And true to form, Min-hyuk actually has the gall to step a few steps away from them, talking blithely on as if nothing is wrong. Yong-hwa struggles more at the teasing glint in the drummer’s eye.
“The concert was great, hyungsoo-nim.” Min-hyuk says innocently. “I played great. You should have seen it; a complete drum solo right in the middle of - ”
Yong-hwa manages to break free, but Min-hyuk must see him coming, because he speaks rapidly into the phone, “Sorry, hyungsoo-nim, I think Jung-shin has something he wants to say to you, talktoyoumoresoonbye!”
Yong-hwa jumps too late for it; watching as his very expensive, company-sponsored phone goes flying over his head, smack into the nimble fingers of Jung-shin. At least it didn’t break, like his last few ones. No thanks for small miracles. But Min-hyuk is there, taking his turn at holding him down, even as Jung-shin grins maniacally into the phone. “Hyungsoo-nim, it’s me, Jung-shin.”
“You’re all so dead after this!”
Jung-shin’s grin only widens. “What’s that, hyungsoo-nim? I’m the best-looking one of out of everyone in the band? You shouldn’t, stop making me blush.”
He knows that Jung-shin is only winding him up; that of course, Joo-hyun is saying nothing of the sort, but still. This is the first phone call Joo-hyun has voluntarily made to him since he last saw her in Seoul. Normally, he’d play along with all this teasing, secure in the knowledge of his place in Joo-hyun’s heart, no matter what the boys say. But now, with the divorce that he hasn’t even told Jung-shin or Min-hyuk about either…
“Oh,” Jung-shin says suddenly, his voice losing his teasing edge. Jong-hyun has tapped him on the shoulder and is holding out his hand, waiting. “I think Jong-hyun hyung has something to say to you. I’ll see you soon, hyungsoo-nim!”
Yong-hwa takes this moment of distraction to wrestle himself out of Min-hyuk’s hold.
Jong-hyun puts the phone to his ear, shooting Jung-shin a semi-exasperated, semi-amused expression. “Hey, Seo-hyun. I’m sorry - I think the boys are high from after the concert… Yeah, it went well. How’s work?”
Yong-hwa comes to stand beside his best friend, even as the other two peel off towards the dressing room. Jong-hyun hums into the phone in reply. “Mm, yeah. That sounds tough. You hang in there, you hear? We’ll be back in Seoul in a week. Maybe we can go for tea.”
Great, Yong-hwa thinks wryly. Everyone in the world gets to talk to and hang out with my wife except me.
“Great, I’ll call you.” Jong-hyun says. His eyes flicker in amusement at the look on Yong-hwa’s face. “I think your husband wants me to get off the line now, so I’ll pass you over to him. Take care.”
Yong-hwa shakes his head, finally taking his phone back. “Hey,” He says, breathlessly. “I’m sorry about all that.”
But there is only soft laughter over the phone line, a sound that he hasn’t heard in a very long time, and Yong-hwa can’t help but smile on his end. “I miss the boys.” She says wistfully. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“They miss you too,” Yong-hwa says, looking down at the hallway, where Jung-shin and Min-hyuk are making kissy faces at him, mimicking him on the phone at long range. He gives them the middle finger for their trouble, glad that Joo-hyun sees none of this. “But they’re not the only ones who do.”
The words are out of his mouth, before he can even think about them and Yong-hwa freezes. Is this too much? How much is too much? He has no clue.
There is a pause, a beat between the pair of them, before Joo-hyun decides to not acknowledge what he said, and she goes on. “Anyway,” She continues, suddenly sounding a lot more uncertain than a few seconds ago. “I’m sorry to call like this, I know you must have be tired after the concert. But I had something to ask.”
Please don’t let it be about the divorce papers, Yong-hwa thinks with a jolt. The papers are still lying in a folder, tucked away in a personal rucksack that he’s been carrying on tour. He hasn’t even looked at them past that first day. He makes a mental note to get some legal advice on the papers. Even he is certain the other party can’t just ignore the papers forever, even though that’s what he would really love to do. “Yeah?”
Joo-hyun sighs. “It’s just that… Dad’s been asking about you.”
Yong-hwa’s insides seem to collapse in on themselves in relief. Okay, this I can handle. “Sure. I haven’t seen him in a while either.”
Even across the phone line, Joo-hyun’s hesitation is obvious. “His birthday’s coming up soon. Next week… and I was wondering… if you’d like to join us? I checked your schedule… and I think it was free. Next Tuesday?”
Yong-hwa has to forcibly tamp down the tidal wave of triumph that he feels swelling up in him. Is Joo-hyun actually voluntarily asking me to meet her? He bites down hard on his lip, but he’s pretty sure she can probably hear the blinding grin taking over his face now. Granted, his father-in-law will be there, but Mr Seo has always been supportive of him. Now that he thinks about it, it actually couldn’t hurt to have someone in his corner there when he meets Joo-hyun. “Of course,” He says breezily. “Do you want me to drive down to Seoul? I could pick you up and we could drive to Su-won together.”
But Joo-hyun’s answer is quick enough to quash his rising hope. “No, no. It’s fine… I’ll take the bus and meet you there direct. You know where it is right?”
Baby steps, Yong-hwa, he tells himself. This is a good enough start.
“Yup,” He says. “I know where it is. Should I bring anything?”
He means things like cake, tonics; a present for his father-in-law, but Joo-hyun’s answer stops him in his tracks.
“No.” He hears her swallow on her end of the line and if possible, her voice seems to get even softer. “Just you is fine.”
+++
The plan is a meal at a traditional dumpling restaurant his father-in-law loves, with cake-cutting back at the assisted-living facility that he stays at after. Despite what Joo-hyun had said, Yong-hwa brings along some essentials - cake, whiskey and a present that Jong-hyun had helped him brainstorm for. His father-in-law is not someone to be easily swayed by gifts, but at this point, he figures he needs all the brownie points he can get.
The bell jangles against the glass door as Yong-hwa pushes his way in; a sudden downpour had slowed down traffic leading into Su-won, even though he’d left Dae-jeon on time. Still, he’s only 15 minutes late, which is pretty good all things considered. He spots Joo-hyun and his father-in-law tucked into a corner of the restaurant; she catches his eye and waves him over. Thankfully, she doesn’t look upset.
“Hey,” He says, sliding into his seat. Before he sits down, he presses a kiss, lightning-quick, against the crown of Joo-hyun’s head. He takes care to avoid her eye, half-afraid of her reaction, even as he peels off his jacket. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Yong-hwa looks across the table, and the smile that splits his face is not polite, but genuine. Joo-hyun’s father, his father-in-law, Mr Seo beams at him happily and Yong-hwa can’t help it - he reaches a hand across the table to grasp his father-in-law’s hand. “Dad.”
“Yong-hwa,” The older man returns warmly. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
One of the things that Yong-hwa really, really loves about Joo-hyun is her father. When Joo-hyun had taken him home for the first time, Yong-hwa had worried endlessly about his prospective father-in-law. He expected someone fierce and unbending, a veritable Cerberus protecting his only daughter from any other men. Yong-hwa usually had no trouble winning over anyone, but this time, he was actually afraid - afraid that Joo-hyun’s father would see his charm for what it was - a hollow, empty thing; that he would see that Yong-hwa was a man not worthy of Joo-hyun in any way and somehow forbid them from ever seeing each other again.
Instead, the door to Joo-hyun’s apartment had opened, and there stood Mr Seo, smiling so earnestly at him that every last fear had melted absolutely away.
He hasn’t seen his father-in-law for a few months; the last time he’d visited was during a fan event in Jeon-ju, and he’d made a stop on the way back to Seoul. When they’d first gotten married, Joo-hyun had wanted her father to stay with them in Seoul, something that Yong-hwa had been more than happy to agree with. But Mr Seo had been the one to refuse. He’d insisted that as a married couple, they needed their own time and space, and that Seoul was really too crowded and busy for an old man like him. Instead, he opted to live in an assisted-living complex in Su-won, where he would be close to the other greatest love of his life: Korean history. Some of his friends were also living in the same complex, which had been reassuring to Joo-hyun that he wouldn’t be lonely there.
Between the both of them, they usually manage to see him at least once a month. Yong-hwa’s sure that Joo-hyun makes it down more regularly, although he isn’t sure how she manages it, factoring in her own crazy schedule. He makes a mental note to tell Sang-woo to set aside time in the schedule to visit his father-in-law more regularly.
He had wondered on the way down if Joo-hyun had told her father that she was filing for divorce. But judging by the way his father-in-law is gripping his hand over the table with obvious affection, he knows the answer to that question. Any relief he feels at that is short-lived however, because Yong-hwa is struck with another thought - how disappointed his father-in-law would be in him, if he knew how bad things have gotten between the pair of them.
Somehow, Yong-hwa thinks bearing his father-in-law’s disappointment is infinitely worse than being yelled at, or being beat up, like other fathers might threaten. His stomach tightens at the thought.
“Dad wanted to wait for you before we ordered,” Joo-hyun says gently, breaking into the dismal turn his thoughts have taken.
He shakes his head, tries for a smile. “I know what we’re getting. Dumplings and bibimnengmyeon, right, Dad?”
The older man chuckles, nodding in agreement. Yong-hwa takes this opportunity to stage-whisper across the table, “No alcohol here, but I’ve got something good to go with the cake later.”
Joo-hyun huffs, but Mr Seo winks at him across the table.
Dinner is the best Yong-hwa’s had in a long time. First of all, it’s good eating with company that isn’t the boys, Sang-woo or crew members who came on the tour with them after weeks on the road. The food is simple but hearty and homely, filling him from the inside out. And most of all, Yong-hwa’s heart is absurdly full, as he watches his father-in-law animatedly relate facts about the Hwaseong fortress from a talk he recently attended. Joo-hyun puts a dumpling into his bowl absently, and their knees bump together accidentally under the table a few times. In the middle of his father-in-law’s story, Yong-hwa gets brave; reaches under the table to take Joo-hyun’s hand in his.
She doesn’t pull away. When her fingers lace through his a few minutes later, Yong-hwa’s sure that his heart damn near explodes.
He’s pretty sure his father-in-law knows what’s going on too, judging by the twinkle in his eye.
It’s still raining when they finish up, but they manage to make it back to the complex without getting too drenched. Once they get into the room that belongs to Mr Seo, Joo-hyun busies herself - turning on the heater in the room, boiling water for hot tea. Yong-hwa helps his father-in-law with his wet jacket, and Mr Seo turns on the television, settling into a well-worn chair.
He converges with Joo-hyun in the tiny kitchenette, where she’s setting out three cups. “I’m making you chamomile, okay?” She doesn’t look him in the eye; all a flurry of opening cupboards and taking down jars of tea bags. “It’s good for your throat. I think Dad has honey here too.”
It’s too fucking much for Yong-hwa.
He tugs her towards him; he doesn’t even care if her father can see them from his spot in the living room, and he kisses her soundly, the way he’s been thinking about doing all night. His heart soars when he feels her melt against him, soft and pliant, her hands finding his hips, and he drags her closer. Even having her this close isn’t enough; nothing about this woman is goddamned enough.
But there is a loud intentional cough from the living room, loud enough to break Yong-hwa out of his Joo-hyun induced haze. He draws back, regretfully, but when he opens his eyes, Joo-hyun looks like how he feels inside - dazed, flushed, every emotion laid bare on her face.
He brushes another kiss, feather-light against her forehead, and then forces himself to step away before he gets distracted again. “Help me with the cake?” He proposes instead, setting the box he’d brought into the kitchen on the counter.
Together, they light the candles on the cake - a simple one with cream cheese frosting that he thinks his father-in-law will enjoy. Joo-hyun is the one to bring it out, but Yong-hwa watches as Mr Seo’s eyes glow in the light of the candles, a warm, contented smile seeping over his face. They applaud as Mr Seo makes a wish; settling down in chairs with slices of cake and mugs of warm tea. Yong-hwa breaks out the whiskey he brought, pouring a thin layer for Mr Seo, who clinks glasses with him in a birthday toast.
Yong-hwa feels warmed from the inside out, but he doesn’t think it’s from the tea or alcohol.
Joo-hyun is the first to set down her plate, clapping her hands. “Present time!”
She digs into a bag by her side, pulling out a bulky wrapped present that looks like some kind of clothing. They watch as Mr Seo tears back the paper carefully, and the older man holds up a mossy green knitted sweater, that looks warm and cosy.
“I made it,” Joo-hyun announces, but she reaches out a discerning hand, rubbing at something on the sweater. “There are some holes… it’s not completely perfect, but I think it still turned out better than I expected.”
But Mr Seo is already pulling it on, and when his head pops through the hole, the smile on his face is bright enough to light up the whole room. “I love it, sweetheart,” He tells Joo-hyun, tugging the sleeves into place, and it really is a perfect fit. In Yong-hwa’s mind’s eye, he sees it - Joo-hyun coming home after work to an empty apartment, papers spread out on their kitchen table, abandoned, frowning over her knitting needles. Where did she find the time to do all this? How did she even find the time, the energy?
But looking at Mr Seo, he thinks he knows why. He shouldn’t even try to estimate the kind of love Joo-hyun has for her father.
Mr Seo leans forward then, hugging Joo-hyun. Yong-hwa is in the midst of reaching for his own present when he hears it suddenly.
The television has been on during this time, white noise in the background of their conversation, and Yong-hwa isn’t sure when it actually cuts into his consciousness; but he freezes all the same, because that voice - he knows that voice.
Beside him, he’s sure he can feel Joo-hyun and Mr Seo freeze too.
The song plays on, its volume tinny and low, but the voice is powerful, melodious, distinguishing itself all the same.
Yong-hwa turns around, and there she is. Mrs Seo, now Kim Young-jin, dignified and stately in a hanbok, singing a popular trot song that Yong-hwa half knows from his childhood.
Mr Seo draws back, settling back in his chair now, eyes still fixed on the television. His eyes are not surprised, but fond and gentle. “Still so beautiful,” He murmurs to himself, but he looks at Joo-hyun now, his eyes glassy. “I’ve always said that you get your beauty from her, Joo-hyun.”
Joo-hyun is still, hunched over. She hasn’t turned around to look, but neither does she get up to turn it off. All the while, the song plays gaily in the background.
Mr Seo bites his lip, but his next words are gentle. “She wrote to me, Joo-hyun. She has a concert in Su-won coming up… and she’ll be coming by to see me.”
Yong-hwa looks at Joo-hyun, whose hair has fallen forward to screen her face. This stillness, this silence - it’s too unnatural for Joo-hyun. He doesn’t like it; doesn’t like what it forebodes.
Mr Seo’s throat bobs. “I… I was hoping you would come down, join us. It would be sometime next month,” He looks over at Yong-hwa, appealing. “If Yong-hwa could join us too, that would be -”
Joo-hyun stands so suddenly that Yong-hwa rocks back in his seat in surprise.
She is by the television in two steps, switching off the box with a violent click and the silence that fills the room in its aftermath is too loud, oppressive. Yong-hwa stands slowly, approaching Joo-hyun. Her back is turned to the pair of them, but he can see her shoulders heaving, a sure sign of her anger. Tread carefully. He puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hyun.”
She whirls around so quickly, dislodging his hand in the process but her eyes are fiery. “No,” She says, her voice shaking. “No, I will not join you, and Yong-hwa will not join you. She shouldn’t even be writing to you, let alone meeting you. What were you thinking?!”
Mr Seo opens his mouth, but it’s like he can’t find the words.
Joo-hyun inahles jerkily, and her lower lids are reddening with imminent tears. “Do you not remember?” She says and it’s barely a whisper, but it carries in the dead air of the room. “Do you not remember that she left us? That she walked out on us, without so much as a letter to tell us why?”
She sniffs, and he sees a tear break free but the ferocity on her face is no less diminished. “She’ll never see me again.” Joo-hyun pronounces with dead, awful finality. “She lost that right years ago. She made that choice.”
Joo-hyun presses her sleeve against her wet cheeks, and she stumbles out of the room into the kitchenette without another word.
Yong-hwa makes to follow her, but Mr Seo is the one who stops him in his tracks, grabbing hold of his wrist. “Yong-hwa.” The older man shakes his head, tries and fails for a smile. “Let’s give her a few minutes.”
In the kitchenette, he hears it; the faint sound of gulping, of breathless hiccups and he knows Joo-hyun is trying to hold it together, trying to pull herself together for both of them, but his heart still aches for her - aches for his wife, for the pain she’s carried since she was a child, for pain that he knows he will never be able to tear from her heart.
Mr Seo sighs then, sinking his face into his hands. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Yong-hwa touches his father-in-law’s shoulder. “No, Dad.” He sneaks a look back at the kitchenette. “I just... I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Mr Seo breathes. “Even when she left me, I always tried to tell Joo-hyun that this was not her fault. That her mother was just following her dreams, but… but I think I just never changed my daughter’s mind about her mother.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried so hard to get them to meet, to talk, but our Joo-hyun… our Joo-hyun.”
Mr Seo trails off hopelessly, but Yong-hwa knows what his father-in-law means. Some wounds go too deep. Joo-hyun will never forgive her mother.
“She gets the best parts of her from her mother,” Mr Seo says, brokenly. “I just wish she could see that.”
She does know that, Yong-hwa thinks. And she hates those parts of her. It’s why I never hear her sing. Because she knows where her voice came from, and she wants to forget that side of her ever existed.
But these are not things he can say to his obviously distraught father-in-law, and so Yong-hwa only settles for covering the older man’s hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, Dad.”
Mr Seo smiles at him then, but it’s heartbreaking for all the sadness in it. “You’re a good boy, Yong-hwa.” He looks back at the now-quiet kitchenette, a sign that Joo-hyun will soon emerge again. “Please take good care of our Joo-hyun.”
The words should mean so much to him, but they only serve as a bitter reminder that Yong-hwa too, has failed Joo-hyun. He swallows, fingers curling into the bed of his palm. “I promise.”
They sit like that in silence, until Joo-hyun bustles out of the kitchen again, her eyes decidedly dry and a pot of warm water in her hands. “Thought I’d top up the tea again,” She says in her usual manner, brisk and pleasant. But when she sets the pot down, she reaches over to hug her father, a silent apology for lashing out like that. Over her shoulder, Yong-hwa can see it: the relief in Mr Seo’s eyes, but also a deep sadness for the faultlines that run through their family, through his daughter.
“My turn now,” Yong-hwa says as cheerfully as he can, when Joo-hyun has resettled herself in the chair next to him. He pulls out his own wrapped package. “Here, Dad.”
Mr Seo looks intrigued, turning it over in his hands - a square shaped package, whose shape gives it away immediately. “I must say I’m surprised, Yong-hwa. This seems more like the type of present our Joo-hyun would give me.”
“Guess your daughter’s ways have been rubbing off on me,” Yong-hwa teases. He leans forward in his seat now, a little nervous. “Open it, Dad.”
Mr Seo unpeels the paper from the tape, and Yong-hwa is rewarded when his father-in-law’s eyes widen, and there is a gasp of pleased surprise. Even Joo-hyun gets up from her chair, comes around and sits on the arm of her father’s chair for a better look.
“It’s a book of poetry, Dad,” He explains anxiously. “A compilation of poetry from Su-won’s best poets, and poetry about the Korean War, how the city changed hands…” He trails off a little, since there are no comments forthcoming from either father or daughter. “I read online that it gives a better perspective into Su-won’s history. And… I got you a large sized print, so that it doesn’t strain your eyes too much.”
Joo-hyun is the first to look up, and the way she looks at him is something he can’t quite decipher. There’s surprise mingled in there, but mostly a thoughtfulness that he can’t read - almost as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
But Mr Seo chuckles, and he touches Joo-hyun’s knee gently. “I hate to say this, sweetheart, but I think Yong-hwa’s got you beat in the present department this year.”
Yong-hwa’s mouth drops open, because no way he can compare with a hand-knitted sweater; it’s just a book he got online - but he catches the teasing glint in his father-in-law’s eyes, the genuine happiness, the way his father-in-law has already has a finger within pages of the book to mark his place. Mr Seo extends his other hand to him, which Yong-hwa draws nearer to take. “It’s wonderful. Thank you, Yong-hwa.”
Yong-hwa squeezes his hand back in return, “I’m glad you like it, Dad.”
“Now,” Mr Seo says, already turning his attention back to the book. “Let’s take a look at this. Oh look, Joo-hyun, look at that rendering of the fortress. Beautiful!”
Yong-hwa catches Joo-hyun’s eye over the book, and in that split second where she smiles at him, it feels like just maybe, everything in his world is right again.