Echo of Dusk - Prologue
[JAEJOONG]
I couldn’t remember when my lunch break became my favourite time of the day. Oh, that’s a lie. And here I was thinking that I was a terrible liar!
I do remember why twelve o’clock on the dot became so exciting for me - and it wasn’t for the tingling sensation my musical bones felt upon hearing the town’s clock tower rumbling the harmonious signal for midday…although I will admit it did give me a small thrill.
Before the sudden change in my daily routine those heavy, deep bells were merely pretty, but now…the sound of metal crashing upon metal was quite enchanting. I no longer heard the usual dong dong but instead became mesmerized daily by the low, vibrating voice urging me ‘look outside JaeJoong, he’ll be there soon. We are sending him to you.’
In a town as small as mine, it was hard to come by tall, handsome, successful men - they were all situated in the city. And you certainly never came across any tall, handsome, successful, gay men. Gay didn’t exist in this world. I remembered the last time a lad in the next town decided to ignorantly voice his observation about his unique taste in gentlemen. He was burnt to death alongside his family during the middle of the freezing cold winter’s night. Apparently the black, scarred remains of their home is still visible in that town, a haunting reminder of the consequences of those who astray from the conformity of society. Of course this tale was fervently used by parents to frighten their children into behaving accordingly, so no one dares to go near the place in fear that the devil would ensnare another victim into his fiery, thick hands.
Yes, I learnt rather quickly that men are forbidden to take a fancy to other men. That being said, I also learnt rather quickly that despite the haunting stories, I still felt attracted to broad shoulders and predominant jaw lines that I could trace with my fingers. But like I said, homosexuals are hardly a common sighting where I lived. Therefore, regardless of the intensity of my feelings for anyone, my face remained emotionless, expressionless and vacant.
The last time my breath almost left me had been half a year ago, when a tall, tanned man was crossing the street a few metres away from my humble self. I thought I was going to just ooze into a love-infatuated pile of wobbly jelly when he walked past me - the unclean cook’s assistant. I remembered being completely smitten with him for weeks whenever I’d randomly spy him in the distance. The only problem was that a few days after that, he was pinned roughly against the florist’s cold outside walls and arrested for murdering an old woman. Needless to say, I got over him pretty quickly. One, not surprisingly, loses appeal once their hands are bathed in warm blood.
As I stumbled back to my shabby home (filled with all eight sisters) in a stunned daze I had thought that maybe, just maybe, liking another guy really was sick. If that arrest hadn’t been a sign then I don’t know what was! After all, my luck hadn’t exactly been the best - in a town full of overweight, middle-aged men with mysterious dirt stains clinging shamelessly onto their too-small shirts (oh, how I hated unclean people!), one does not wish that remarkably rare, handsome men were murders. I needed someone who would love and respect my mother almost as much as I did - not kill her for cheap thrills. No, it simply would not have worked out for us…
But then months later, I had glanced out the kitchen window at 12:05pm on the dot and once again found myself unable to breathe. Who was that inhumanly handsome man outside my window? How beautiful those long, dark locks looked falling just above his deep brown eyes; the barely visible traces of facial hair leaving a subtle shadow on his chin despite being newly shaved. He had Seoul’s perfectly straight, pearly teeth; so rare in the rural areas I had grown up in. Even the long, thick-rimmed, rectangular glasses perched snugly above his nose seemed masculine. I guess it didn’t help when the steam let off from the boiling pans nearby the window left streams of mist floating around the edges of the window frame, blurring his figure enchantingly.
He was the complete opposite of my large-eyed, pale, feminine physique and scrawny excuse of a body. He was the wealthy, newly crowned lawyer from Seoul working in my plain, rural town; whilst I was the poor kitchen hand, begging for food scraps and extra pay to help support my large family. Immediately the fairytale daydreams kicked in and for one blissful moment in time, reality was non-existent and the two of us were in love and horribly happy with life. Me - the scrawny, poor boy, plus him - the handsome, tall, well-off man. And boy was he tall! I had thought no-one could have possibly been taller than the large, handsome, murderer!
Falling nastily back to reality, the lawyer disappeared from view, causing me to sloppily scramble onto the counter under the quickly fogging window to wipe it dry with my sleeve. To my relief he was still there, sipping his coffee and reaching out for a newspaper.
Ever since that day, after the town bells struck midday I would drop what I was doing and make my way hurriedly over to the window. And there he would be strolling peacefully over towards the newspaper stand outside the restaurant I worked in, with coffee warming up his hands; his thin, long fingers curled securely around the coffee mug.
My days were suddenly filled with excitement and purpose. I’d come to work, help the cooks prepare the food and then on my short lunch break I would stare longingly out the window and watch him day after day going to that small stand and buying a newspaper with coffee in hand.
It’s frustrating how us silly human beings always manage to yearn for the unattainable. Yearn to be noticed, if only for a short moment in time despite our status in society, race, religious beliefs or sexuality. The problem with yearning is that it makes you do crazy things - things you would scarcely believe were possible from yourself…like begging for an extended lunch break of merely five extra minutes in order to run outside and see him standing so near in the chilly air of winter.
After a week of foolish staring I indeed plucked up the courage to sneak over to the newspaper stand, pick one up and pretend to read it intensely as if I actually understood the dilemmas being proclaimed in nasty, thick black lettering - stories of communism and fast approaching conflicts with the North. I frowned in complete and utter confusion and then looked away from the small print to give my eyes a rest and a breath of fresh air. Of course my heart was pounding as I felt his presence so nearby me but couldn’t find that final courage to make eye contact with him. Just being close to him was enough for me…such rather a ridiculous confession from a stranger. However, in my peripheral vision I felt the odd, slightly creepy sensation that I was the one being watched.
I gulped self-consciously and slowly shifted my eyes until that perfect man was completely focused in my vision. To think after all that effort to run outside I still couldn’t look him in the eye, in the end. Maybe I was worried that if I actually looked at him properly I’d lose my breath again and seem like a fool. Or maybe…I was petrified that if I let him see into my eyes he’d read my soul, figure me out, and burn my house down with my precious family still inside.
But strangely, in the second I allowed myself to glance at his beautiful face, I found he was already staring at me with…was that amazement? In my sheltered naivety it never occurred to me that he could possibly have been amazed by my own beauty. That just simply wasn’t an option for me. Instead, I had lowered my head, feeling humiliated that he was mocking my poor status, assuming that someone as pitiful as me hadn’t the education to be able to read a newspaper, and was simply amazed that I had been able to.
Poor little kitchen hand, what are you doing here dirtying the street with your pathetic presence? Go back to the steamy kitchens where you belong, away from handsome, tall men in expensive suits.
I quickly folded the costly newspaper in my humiliated fingers and placed it back into the pile, finding comfort in my long, raven hair sliding forward like a curtain (it was used to my humiliation) to hide my face from the world - or more importantly, the tall, handsome lawyer.
I half ran back towards the safety of the kitchen’s back door, slamming gracelessly into it after half tripping over a loose tile in the pathway. I was hopeless at everything I did - even walking, and now that tall, handsome lawyer (if he was still there staring after me) would know that too! But one fleeting glance out the steamy window shocked me once again. It seemed he was trying curiously to peer through the window to find me, tipping his body to the right to see better through the steaming glass. And he had been smiling! That smile magically calmed me down in an instant, thawing all my turbulent worries effortlessly. But it wasn’t enough to fuel my courage with meeting him again outside. No, it would be back to staring out the window for me.
Time passed relatively slowly until dusk turned into daylight once more and the town bells groaned slowly. I quickly placed the wooden spoon onto the counter and moved towards the window. And there he was, right on time, strolling down to that newspaper stand thoughtfully. But he did not bend forward to pick up a newspaper. Instead, to my horror, he remained standing tall and looked through my window.
My eyes widened in pure panic and I tumbled downwards onto the kitchen floor, feeling the cool wood with my clammy fingers. I tried to assure myself that I had not been properly seen by him - aside from the distance being too great, the window’s fog would certainly have interfered with his sight. I had been saved by a line of heavily heating pans which I normally took for granted in my monotonous daily routine.
“Clumsy fool!” I heard one of the cooks grumble in disdain and I straightened back up, retying my rebellious black strands into a small ponytail at the back of my head.
It was another whole week before I felt secure enough to step outside again - when I was certain he had forgotten my sighting, that horribly embarrassing day. I figured I would make a better impression, be a completely different person - a person who could read newspapers and instantly understand the affairs that were being portrayed.
I had stolen my boss’ smart-looking, grey trench coat and matching hat. I felt so intelligent and wealthy - the rare feeling of self worth was almost worth the terrible beating I knew I’d receive if I was caught wearing it.
I tucked the inevitably loose, lengthy strands of my hair behind my ear to tidy up my appearance and casually walked over to the stand, once again avoiding his gaze. I slowly bent down to gaze intellectually at the pile of newspapers. I stared thoughtfully at the large image of a burning house and tutted loudly in disdain. “Terrible that. Absolutely terrible.”
“Yes…” his deep voice slowly responded. My breath hitched abruptly in my throat and I tried not to blush stupidly - his deep timbre had been even more spectacular than I had imagined!
“It really is terrible,” he continued, “that the woman single-handedly saved her whole family from that burning house.”
I paled considerably and stared aghast at the article, inspecting it more closely. “You er, misunderstand me,” I coughed out, deepening my voice. “I was referring to the tragedy of the burning house. Houses simply should not be set alight.”
“She’s not an arsonist, it was a faulty oven,” he explained calmly.
“I know that!” I huffed, acutely aware of how obvious that lie was.
“Okay,” was his short reply. He looked solemnly down at me but I didn’t miss the twinkle of amusement in those deep, brown eyes. I coughed as maturely as I could manage and dumped the darn newspaper back down onto its pile.
“Aren’t you going to buy that?” he asked curiously.
“No. Today I simply do not feel the need,” I replied smoothly, proud of my improvised line that surely a man of high status would have said.
The tall, handsome lawyer smiled and nodded politely at me before I lost his vision completely as I walked away and headed back down the road. As soon as he left the stand, I bolted back up the street and towards the kitchen door. I grimaced as I turned the door handle, anticipating the beating I was going to experience for both stealing my boss’s clothing and being tardy.
To my embarrassment, the very next time I dared to meet him again (after the bruises had faded to my satisfaction) he handed me an extra paper which he had already paid for, with a polite smile. I stared down at his offering with a concerned frown. So he hadn’t actually fallen for the smart, wealthy businessman guise?
Seeing my hesitation, the man hurriedly started conversation. “You seemed like you were in such a hurry last time, I was a little concerned. After all, newspapers are our government’s way of communicating efficiently with us - surely we should take the time to read them. My treat, of course. Although I do apologize if this humble act of generosity is being misinterpreted as cheek. I would not feel happy with myself at all if such a…wealthy…man such as yourself was insulted by my premature payment for this newspaper.”
As I listened to the gentle rumble of his voice I was faced with the dilemma of trying to figure out if he was making fun of me or not. In any case I didn’t care to stay and find out; grabbing the offered paper and marching away in fake annoyance. It was only when I arrived back at the kitchens that I realized he really had been mocking me - in my nervousness I had actually placed my boss’ hat on backwards this time. And as I once more stared helplessly my boss’ infuriated face I decided it was time to lay my failed alter ego to rest.
After days of more anxiousness I learnt that the tall, handsome lawyer-sshi had a name - Jung YunHo. I had found this out not as a smart, wealthy businessman, but as Kim JaeJoong - the kitchen hand. It seemed I’d finally figured out that that Yunho-sshi found it harder to tease me when I was dressed as myself. I also discovered with surprise that Yunho-sshi was the same age as me - 23 years-old. Although when he asked in return for my own age I couldn’t help but lie again. I felt less pathetic if a successful, established lawyer such as himself thought I was only 18 - after all, what was more pathetic than a 23 year-old kitchen slave who hadn’t stepped foot in a higher tertiary institution?
“Eighteen?” he questioned. “Okay.”
That twinkle was back in his eyes and I didn’t like it. “Well! Off to work with you then,” I insisted in a slight panic.
“My my, would you look at that. An 18 year-old telling someone five years superior what to do.”
…Why was it that he always seemed to see right through me? I never realized how dangerously perceptive lawyers were.
But no matter how bad I was feeling at that moment, it was nothing compared to how I felt barely a week later when I greeted Yunho-sshi again, only to discover his usual cheekiness had completely disappeared. He wouldn’t tell me what was bothering him though…not that I blamed him - we’d barely just become friends.
“I’m selfishly attached to having ‘lawyer’ written as my profession. I’m not quite ready to give it up,” was all he admitted after a sigh.
“Give it up for what?”
He didn’t answer or utter another syllable.
War. That’s what the unspoken reason had been. War. Horrible war against communism and the reunification of Korea. But I was a clumsy kitchen hand…how the heck was I supposed to do anything beneficial for the South Korean army? I almost cried when I received the conscription notice. I was too unprepared for this war. Too clumsy and inexperienced. And I made sure to tell Yunho-sshi exactly that.
“I’ll look after you,” was his only reply and I almost couldn’t believe how serious he had sounded. And oddly enough his vow of protection was the only thing that kept me sane when I left my job as a poor kitchen hand, to become a solider in a war where families were torn apart and people died horrifically.
///TO BE CONTINUED///
Aishhh such a long proglogue. I just couldn't stop writing eh!! But you love me for it, right?? RIGHT?!! hahaha.
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