Chapter Seven

Jennie •••

Jisoo was disappointed in me to say the least. At first, she was upset, ready to shut me down and tear apart the unwritten rules I had made for her, Rosie and Irene. Before she could, I asked, "Can it wait until after tomorrow?". The dread for what was to come in the morning was already dawning on me.

The other side of the phone went quiet. After a moment she spoke, "Never mind.".

Jisoo has always shown her frustrations when it comes to our unwritten rules. The cap and mask is something she could withstand, but serving as a bystander in my personal problems with others is difficult for her to follow. In any altercation, Jisoo is first to defend me. She's willing to throw the first punch at anyone who just might hurt me. Knowing this, I made it clear to my three idol friends to not meddle with those I have issues with beyond our circle. To not come in contact with them or even let their faces be recognizable on my side of the party. That is the rule.

Because if one of them throws the first punch, their face will be splattered all across social media. It's not easy for Jisoo to follow this rule, but it's not easy for me to accept the consequences that come with breaking it. And I swore to myself that Kai, of all the trouble I've gotten myself into and may get into, will not be the reason.

"I'll see you on Monday." I said and wished her goodnight. She told me to call her if I needed anything. I said I would.

As I got ready for bed, I texted Lisa back and forth which delayed my night routine by an hour. I didn't mind, though. I won with my stand in Team Edward. My exhaustion crept when I tucked myself in bed, but I didn't want to say goodnight just yet. In fact, I never get the chance to say goodnight because her capability to soothe me into a deep slumber with her words in a bubble is inevitable.

My heart didn't feel so heavy yet when I woke up this morning. Lisa's last message last night was asking if I still like vanilla and I said, "Vanilla is superior and nothing will change my mind.". I didn't tend to my phone until around eight o'clock when I knew she would be awake. She replied with, "Duly noted.". I told her to have fun with Chaeyoung at their dance practice and she said the same for my day at the café.

"I think she wanted to see me today, but I told her I'd be busy after work. I didn't say I'd be here with you, though- I hope I didn't hurt your feelings." I say as I wipe down my mother's niche with baby wipes. She loves the smell of these. The columbarium is empty this Sunday afternoon. The sky is clear today, but the snow still freezes through the rows and pathways of the other columbarium niches. "It's pretty cold today, huh?" I replace the withered flowers in the flower holder with some fresh tulips I grew over the month. She also loves the smell of these.

I take a seat on the bench that faces her name. My body shivers at the cold metal despite the layers of clothing. I cross my arms over my closed coat and fix Lisa's scarf around my neck.

Lisa never met my mother. Even in our trainee days, my mom could never visit the company because she was too sick to leave the hospital. Lisa could never accompany me to the hospital either because my free time overlapped with her Korean classes. Rosie and/or Jisoo would come with me instead. I spoke a lot of my mother to Lisa back then, all good things. And I told her of the stories of her passing when I hadn't told anyone else.

"I wish you got to meet her at least once. Even if it had to be when she had apple hair." I crack a laugh at the memory. I imagine mom to be laughing too. "God, I miss you." I close my eyes to keep the tears in. These particular tears always come back on this day every year. I've gotten better at controlling them, but the pain remains the same no matter how hard I try.

It's hard to describe. First, my mind seems to clear up. I'm empty headed and I know an overwhelming wave of aching memories will evade soon. Like a hundred thousand pounds of water roaring on its way to crash into me. Then, I think my heart sinks down to my lungs because it becomes hard to breathe. I get a little angry next because I remember the phone call and I get angrier because I remember everything else that comes after. My mind reminds me again and again that my mother is dead, like I didn't hear it the ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-ninth time. That's when the tears come. And they don't stop until I've cried all the waves out of me.

I don't expect anyone to understand. It was my mother who died. I don't think anyone could relate to the amount of grief I endure without her.

I wish for a lot of things that can't come true. I guess you could say I set myself up for a lot of the hurt I feel. I wish I got to teach her pottery like uncle taught me. I wish she got to see my café. I wish she got to try my lemon cold brew Irene loves. I wish she got to hear Jisoo's latest comeback. I wish she got to see Rosie perform in her first sold out dome. I wish she got to hear Lisa's adventurous stories in Thailand.

It would be easier to list down what I don't wish for because there's just one.

I don't wish for her to come back.

I'm not worth the suffering she went through everyday of her sickness. The radiation, muscle pain, loss of appetite, breathing problems, the fucking breast cancer- I'm not worth going through that just to come back to me.

I wish she is in a place where pain doesn't exist. In place a where everything goes her way. Where she can plant her own garden and bake in the kitchen all day without feeling tired at all. In a place where she can live the life she didn't complete.

Because I know I'll be able to see her again soon. I'll just have to accept the wait.

•••

I ended up crying for three hours at the columbarium. It was a little past six in the evening when I said goodbye to mom and took the train back to Hongdae. It was quiet on the streets as I walked to Coffee Pages. When I arrived, the sign was flipped to 'closed', as I told Wendy to do early today like every year. It was heartwarming to find the bookworm flattening out translucent tarps around my pottery wheel in the corner of the café.

"Wendy, you didn't have to." I hug my friend in gratitude.

"It's the least I could do." she smiles softly as we pull away. "I'll let you do your thing." she hugs me one more time before gathering her belongings and leaving the store.

Eager to get down to business, I take my coat off, put on my handy clay stained apron and sit on my stool. I already have the design in mind, so I don't wait another second to get my hands dirty. Pottery has become second nature to me, first would be brewing coffee, so I am able to mold the clay into the plate I want it to be.

My mom loved the birthday presents uncle and I had made for her. In fact, they still sit on the shelf on the wall for customers to see. My uncle made a mug, which he carved in tree-like designs into. I made her a plate. It was a little lopsided and the house I painted on it was a little clumpy, but she said she liked it more than uncle's. She may have been biased, but I was happy to hear it nonetheless.

Along with the mug and disfigured plate on the shelf are three others I molded and designed each year since her passing. They aren't perfectly shaped either, but show points of improvement. One is painted baby blue with clouds of white surrounding the center where a yellow sun shines. The other is white with ocean waves painted on the rims of the plate. The last one I had made has a rustic tone, with a clover leaf filling the middle of the plate.

As the days came closer to today, I thought long and hard about what I would be designing next, but it only felt right to honor her love for tulips. I decided on lavender for the flower because it was her favorite color and I want everyone to see this lavender tulip my mother would have adored when they sit and have a cup of coffee or slice of dessert. I make a mental note to buy the paint at the crafts store tomorrow morning. 

The clay follows the curves to my hands and soon enough I have mom's plate of the year molded. It would take overnight for it to dry, so I leave it be on the pottery wheel and push the instrument to the corner of the café for now. I'm about to pick up the dirty tarps when I hear the bells chime.

"Psst..."

I don't move an inch, both confused and a bit scared at the same time.

"Wendy!" someone whisper shouts. I hear the door shut and light footsteps crossing the bookstore.

Unsure of what to do, I frantically grab my stool and carry it firmly as a shield.

"Wendy."

Choosing to be brave, I brace myself, and with all the power vested in me to protect my cozy bookstore café, I jump forward in a loud shout with the stool as my trusty weapon!

"Holy sh- Jennie?!"

I force my tightly shut eyes open and let out an exasperated breath when I realize the store is not in risk of any harm. "Lisa, you scared me!"

"I-I thought- Wendy said- Hi!" she slaps her hand over her eyes. I put the stool down and stare at her as I'm dumbfounded. She's in an over-stuffed puffy white coat with a white beanie which makes her resemble a snowball. She carries what looks like a cake box with her other hand. She's still covering her eyes. "W-Wendy told me to be here on or before five o'clock because you wouldn't be around yet. Not that I'm avoiding you or anything! I- uhm- I got on the wrong train from where I was and didn't make it on time, I guess." she chuckles awkwardly. "You said you were busy, so I wanted to drop this off for you in time before you got back to the store like Wendy said you would." she holds out the box to me.

"Why are you covering your eyes?"

"Oh." she shifts on her feet, but doesn't lower her hand. "I-I figured you didn't want me to come see you today." she mumbles and a light shade of pink flushes on her cheeks.

I'm smiling widely at the girl in front of me and the need to pinch those cheeks is hard to ignore. So is the need to wrap her in my arms and the pull in my chest telling me to do it.

My feet shuffle forward. My hands are covered in clay, so I use the tips of my fingers to move her hand away from her doe orbs. "Open your eyes, Lili." I giggle at her furrowed brows as she keeps her lids down.

She peaks through one eye first like she's testing the waters. I tilt my head to the side with a smile and she finally looks at me clearly. "I'm really sorry I bothered you when I knew you'd be busy."

"But you didn't know I'd be here. What's this?" I point to the box.

"Oh, you remember that bakery in Gangnam that we used to visit all the time right?" she places the box on one of the tables and unfolds the creased locks.

"Mhm."

"Well..." my mouth waters once she reveals the vanilla cream cake I used to order every time we went and this time, it's not just a slice.

"I haven't had this in ages!" I bend over to inhale the sweet scent that comes with sweet nostalgia.

"Yeah?"

"You went all the way to Gangnam to get this for me?"

"I-I wanted to thank you for helping me with my apartment and inviting me to your sleepover." she adjusts her beanie with a shy smile. If it weren't for the mess I've made on myself, I would hug her so tight that she'd be imprinted on me.

"Thank you so much, Lisa." I place a kiss on her cheek instead and the heat tingles on my lips when I pull away. I go over the counter to clean my hands before I kiss her again. The heat from my lips travels to my face and I'm a little embarrassed to go back with a blush on.

And I'm a little confused.

Because I wish I didn't aim for the side.

She's into girls. That's good! But am I into girls? 

She can love whoever she wants to love. Except, maybe Minnie. She sounded like a pain in the ass in Lisa's stories. The thought of them together annoys me. I don't like it.

But I shouldn't not like it. Who gave me the right to judge the truthful receiver of Lisa's love and affection? And who is giving me the idea that it should be me?

It's getting hot in here.

"Nini?"

I dry my clean hands, take off the dirty apron, and round back to Lisa. She's bent down to look at the plate I had made with interest. "I just finished making that before you came in." I state, coming closer to her and the pottery.

"Right!" she jolts up to a straight posture which surprises me, and she clears her throat. "I should get going," Going? "and let you finish your business." she steps off the tarps.

"Wait." I stop her by the wrist. "Do you wanna stay? Tell me about your day?"

Coffee Pages is closed to the dear friends of owner, Jennie Kim, on the 22nd of December every year. Wendy is an exception to this unwritten rule. I've been loyal to this rule myself, but this snowball is letting my guard down. I don't want to be alone this time. I don't want to be alone if it means missing a chance to be with Lisa. 

She glances back and forth at the clay and me, then her pursed lips form a genuine smile. She removes her coat and beanie.

Lisa tells me all about dance practice with Chaeyoung as we clean up the café of the cluttered pottery instruments. She even shows me a few moves to the song.

The song may be my new morning-starter and I'll tell Rosie when I see her. Lisa's dancing on the other hand, should I tell her to do it again?

"The music video shoot is on the 26th. Pretty demanding of Mr. Yang, but as long as Chipmunk is up for it, then I'm all in." she says as she stacks the last chair up on the table. 

"Has Rosie allowed you to call her Chipmunk after all this time?" 

"Nope, but that doesn't stop me from annoying her." Her eyes gaze around the café in case we missed anything, then land on the shelves of my pottery. "Are you putting that plate up there?"

"Y-yeah, I add one every year." She walks up to the shelf and touches the clumpy paint of the house I first designed. "I made that one for my mom's birthday. It was my first time, don't judge." 

She laughs at my defense. "I love it!" 

I tell her about the others and what it took to make them every year. She says she likes the clover especially and she agrees with my lavender tulip idea as the next design. While she continues to study the pottery, I take a seat on the floor and lean against the wall. She notices and sits down next to me. 

We look at each other for a moment. I'm about to laugh at the way we're staring, but she asks, "Have you been crying?". I nod my head because it would be pointless to say I haven't. I can see the puff of my eyes whenever I look down. 

There's a frown on her face and she turns away to look at her phone. I watch her scroll through her music, then get up to connect the device to the speakers. Her legs look much longer in her black thermals and the knit sweater shows off her long arms, too. Even with the thick clothing, she's noticeably fit. 

To be frank, I want her to remove her clothes so I can see how sexy really is. 

God, did I just say that?

She's coming this way. My heart is skipping its beats. 

There's a strum of guitar strings in the speakers. 

She extends her hands to me and I'm lifted off the ground by those long arms. She brings us to the middle of the room and wiggles her eyebrows at me. 

It's an acoustic version of my favorite song. "You're just too good to be true." 

"May I have this dance, Jennie Kim?" she exaggerates a bow with her hand waiting for mine. 

"Can't take my eyes off of you." 

"I'd be honored, Lalisa." 

We sway ourselves into a slow dance. It's an unusual pastime, especially for a pair of good friends like us, but it's nice. I like her hands by my waist and mine around her neck. I like the way she looks at me. I could get lost in her gaze. It's so cheesy, but like everything else cheesy, it's true. 

I don't feel the hundred thousand pounds of water crushing me. No frustration, anger, sadness, or that of the sort. I don't feel the need to do any wishful thinking. I don't feel anything at all, but her. 

I've never experienced such a strong pull towards someone like I have with her. 

I'm not sure what you call it. 

Is falling a bit too cliché? 

I'm not sure. 

But it's so endearing. So alluring. So Lisa.