Chapter Text
It’s something in his eyes. Jiwon’s eyes made butterflies grow in Junhoe’s stomach. They can make Junhoe’s legs tremble, his hands shake and his heart skip a few beats just to start beating like crazy a few seconds later. When Jiwon looks at Junhoe, it’s like he’s lighting up something inside the latter. A look from Jiwon is like going in a rollercoaster – up, down, fast. Junhoe is not sure he will ever be able to get used to the other’s eyes. Deep down he prays he will have enough time with Jiwon to do so, but something tells him that might not happen.
Junhoe is lost. Desperately, hopeless, lost. Over the years he prayed for meaning, for something that would make everything worth it and Jiwon was the answer for his prayers. And now Junhoe is lost, because the younger not only gave meaning but turned his life upside down. June doesn’t know the next steps anymore, he’s not sure about his own feelings because everything is a mess. Most of all, Junhoe is scared of Jiwon finding out about his deepest feelings; the professor is scared that the younger will feel pressured. Junhoe doesn’t want to be a burden.
To be honest, since the beginning there was this sentiment of connection. It wasn’t the attention Jiwon gave Junhoe during the classes; it wasn’t just the after-classes conversations about big theories: it was Jiwon’s eyes, Jiwon’s energy, the way he talks, not exactly what he was talking about. It was like the younger had this aura that screamed to Junhoe “hey, look this way”. Junhoe has been drawn to Jiwon ever since, he didn’t even stand a chance to escape – not that he would want to.
I.
Some months passed them by since Junhoe was Jiwon’s professor. Right after the period ended, Junhoe felt as if he could breathe again – the last months were an agony. Facing the fact he had feelings for a student was too much of a burden to carry. Although his mind is still confused, he doesn’t feel the guilty suffocating him.
Koo Junhoe thought over and over again if he should talk to the Kim about the way he felt, but he couldn’t even find the words. Moreover, as time went by and they created memories together, the Koo started realizing he wasn’t the only one with mixed feelings. The aura around them was different, there was sentiment. So, June decided there was no need to say anything.
On a beautiful evening, sitting on a bench with cans of beers on their hands, they kissed. None said anything about what happened. They went along knowing their feelings – whatever these might be – were mutual. That was the only thing they needed at that moment. The thing is, questions still were left unanswered and the confusion was present. However, for a while, they didn’t want to face it. They would kiss the problems away.
II.
Today, Koo Junhoe felt like he needed to ask Jiwon out. The younger has been quite distant lately, busy with college activities. He’s always too tired or too desperate, trying to be the best version of himself while dealing with all the pressure. Junhoe’s heart aches every time he sees the Kim give him a weak smile or a cold reply.
Jiwon hasn’t been the bright guy who Junhoe saw at his classes some months ago, but he still had his beautiful aura. Kim Jiwon shone in Junhoe’s eyes, startling him every time. The older wishes he could startle the other too, give the Kim feelings different from tiredness, make him smile brightly.
They met at a burger shop Jiwon liked and spent some time talking about some silly stuff until it was time to leave. As they walk down the road to the nearest subway station, Junhoe senses something out of place. The so-known loud Jiwon has given space to a thoughtful, distant one. It gives the older that feeling when you know something is bugging the other person, when you know the other has something to say.
Tired and worried, Junhoe starts calling the other but he’s suddenly stopped by the younger’s voice.
“Listen, Junhoe, we gotta talk. Well, actually, I gotta tell you something and I really need you to hear me until I finish or else I may not be able to say it all. Is that okay?”
Taken aback, Junhoe just nods and let the other proceed.
“It’s your eyes, you know. The way they look at me…” Jiwon pauses, taking a deep breath and looking into Junhoe’s eyes. For a slight moment, the older thought it all might be some sort of confession, but carefully facing Jiwon, Junhoe realizes it’s far from that. Jiwon’s eyes show fear, sadness, maybe even… despair?! Lost. That’s how Junhoe feels after looking into them.
“Your eyes, they… they show me need and… well, intensity. And that makes me fucking desperate, Junhoe. Anxious, nervous… I can’t take that, you know? I just can’t. I am trying to deal with so many things right now, it’s like there’s this burden in my chest, this weight on my shoulders, and I just can’t let you lean on me because right now I can barely stand by myself. After all I’m just a 24 years old fool who has too much on his plate. I can’t have a relationship. I’m sorry”.
There’s this sharp pain one feels sometimes, as if a knife is trespassing their skin and muscles. At those moments, one may feel drowsy, or maybe as if they are drowning. Junhoe felt like his lungs were full of water and he couldn’t breathe. He opened his mouth and no sound could be heard, the words all stuck in his throat. He suddenly felt like throwing up. It felt like forever, but only a minute or two passed by.
“Go, Jiwon. Yeah, it’s okay” Junhoe added the last sentence at the sight of the younger’s bugging eyes. “I get what you’re saying. I just, I need to process all that so please just go ahead. I-I will take my time walking”.
Jiwon seems worried but also… relieved, as if he finally managed to say everything. The tense aura Junhoe sensed earlier was slowly dissipating. It’s not like Jiwon is experiencing relief in Junhoe’s confusedness; he is relieved because he likes the older too much to go on hiding stuff.
Jiwon nods and does as he was told, he goes. He turns once as if to check on Junhoe, then just keeps walking. As for Junhoe, seeing the other’s back way ahead felt almost symbolic. Inside him someone blew out a flame, leaving the room dark. He felt empty and cold.
III.
Junhoe was used to feel empty and lost. That doesn’t mean he enjoyed it, he just got able to keep a functional life even though inside he was falling apart. Life went on and he couldn’t put it on pause. Junhoe kinda expected to take Jiwon’s absence as an endurable pain as he moved on with his life, but he wasn’t exactly surprised when he noticed he couldn’t focus anymore. Nothing would catch his attention, no TV show, no subject was able to.
His best friend Kim Jinhwan, a short guy with sweet smiles and small eyes, called him several times on the first three days after the “break up”, but he realized Junhoe wasn’t really able to speak so he stopped with the calls. He still sends some messages, though, and June will do his best to maintain a conversation, something to distract himself from his thoughts, but halfway he stops replying and finds himself rethinking his last dialogue with Jiwon.
Junhoe received a message from Jiwon asking if he was okay. They exchanged “I’m fine, thanks” before the younger asked for some time apart. He said something about they both needing time to think. A part of Junhoe wanted to selfishly deny the request, but obviously Jiwon was just politely announcing his decision, not asking for permission. Besides, it’s not like the older would have strength enough to go on talking with Jiwon as if his heart wasn’t a ball of painfulness.
So now Koo Junhoe is once again facing emptiness and the sense of being lost. In this state, he begins to wonder if he had really found himself while with Kim Jiwon; if once he was really fulfilled. Because if he were, would a break-up be reason enough to destroy it all? As Junhoe give in to these thoughts, he realizes Jiwon was correct in many ways, but more importantly in one: there was need. Admitting this is one of the hardest things the professor has ever been through, once that means to admit he was being a weight on the shoulders of someone he deeply cared about. That means Junhoe had stopped looking at himself and started going elsewhere in search for solutions. Admitting it made Junhoe’s heart sink.
Koo Junhoe is now with a heart full of regrets and a mind full of memories. He lies on his bed, facing the ceiling and give in to the episodes crossing his minds.
“You’re brilliant!” Junhoe says to a now shy Jiwon. It’s almost funny seeing the other’s ears getting red over a comment so simple. “I mean, the way you analyze music with authors you were not even familiar with until 2 months ago? Brilliant. Seriously, Jiwon, you should consider publishing your papers. The music community needs those kind of analysis”.
“Oh, Junhoe-ssi, how could I? I mean, I’m still a junior, who would give me any credit?”
“What are you talking about? Of course people would appreciate your efforts and value your contributions. You are a Cultural Production student who is also a musician – yes, you are, stop getting red over this – and you now have acquired knowledge on the field of Sociology of Art. You have a lot to say and people will be glad to read”.
Jiwon just nodded awkwardly and the professor thought it was best to not push him too much. Actually, the latter was starting to question himself if he was pressuring the former more than he should. Then, there was this kind of sparkleion the student’s eyes that made the professor change his mind. Jiwon, red all over, had a shy smile on his lips and a content expression, as if he was feeling… recognized. The no-teeth smile sent a warmness to Junhoe’s heart, which actually surprised him, but he assured himself every professor would feel the same in his position.
That was in the middle of the period and Junhoe’s feelings were still confused. Well, more confused. He was still able to pretend he saw Jiwon as a mere student, which made everything simple. Now, looking back, Junhoe misses the simplicity of their relationship. He misses being in the position of someone Jiwon could look up to, someone reliable. He misses the small talks and the deep discussions after-class; the way Jiwon’s eyes got surprised when he found out the absurd Adorno talked about popular music (“Wait, what? Was he insane?”). June thought everything was beautifully simple before he fucked it all up.
As the period was coming to an end, Jiwon seemed more and more uneasy. Junhoe couldn’t quite understand why, once his student had grades good enough. Worried, Koo Junhoe thought it would be nice to listen to his student. At this point they were already exchanging emails, so grabbing a cup of coffee on a Saturday wouldn’t be too out of place. Trying to be positive and pushing away certain thoughts, the professor sent the other an email asking if he had time on the weekend – to which Jiwon answered yes (with a lot of exclamations).
Junhoe suggested Sweet Dreams because he’s already a regular there and Jiwon accepted. It seemed a good idea once the place is big enough to people sit way apart from each other – and well, Junhoe is not that sociable, so. They decided on Saturday at 3 p.m. and that was it. Right on time both of them was extending handshakes and looking for a table.
The older started questioning if his suggestion was really okay the moment Jiwon asked the maitre if they had french fries – which they obviously didn’t – and then settled for only a soda. However, the younger showed no signs of dislike, so Junhoe stopped thinking too much. Most importantly, he wanted to focus on Jiwon’s recently uneasiness.
As they both started sipping on their respective drinks – Americano and soda – Junhoe started to talk. “Well… don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be nosey, but I can’t help noticing your behavior has changed recently. That would be understandable if you needed to do well on your finals, but that’s not your case, so…”
“So…?” Was all Jiwon managed to say, wearing an expression that didn’t show as much confusion as his monosyllabic answer would suggest at first.
“So… what’s up? Is there something wrong? Do you need to, I don’t know, talk?”
This time Jiwon smiled weakly and looked away. At that moment, the younger didn’t seem willing to talk. However, maybe because it was Junhoe asking – and he was being so nice and careful – Jiwon decided to say a few things.
“As we’ve talked before, there’s this pressure I just can’t get rid of; this feeling of always needing to do more, like I’m never good enough. However… right now, more than that, there’s also confusion. Mixed feelings I really don’t know how to deal with.” He finished his sentence looking at Junhoe and the professor saw something in the student’s eyes. He didn’t know what exactly, but it seemed like something he knew. There was this feeling of finding an answer. It lasted only a few seconds, though. The connection was broken when Jiwon suddenly looked away.
It’s almost funny to look back and see the moments when their feelings were so obvious and yet they couldn’t manage to talk about them properly. Confusion blind them, though it’s not that bad it happened. Back when they were student and professor, engaging in any other relationship would be kinda weird for both.
There were a series of episodes crossing Junhoe’s mind, beautiful and painful, and none as recurrent as his last memory with Jiwon.
He doesn’t quite know for how long he has stayed on bed thinking about the past, but at certain point he feels the tears falling and his wet face makes him get up abruptly. He starts feeling desperate, as if continuously falling in a divide, never meeting the ground. He feels like he could go crazy unless he does something. At this moment, face wet from tears, heart beating a little too fast, Junhoe makes a big decision: he will change. Doesn’t matter how long it takes.
IV.
Easier said than done, but Koo Junhoe wasn’t ready to give up on his decision. It was hard, though. The 30 years-old guy realized that, for a considerable amount of time, he got stuck, like he decided not to move away from that painful position. Junhoe not only got used to the pain and the emptiness, he also stopped trying to get over them. He can’t precise how much time has passed since he become like this, but it was enough to make changing a difficult task.
One of the things June thought he should do was reconnecting with people around him, so he started engaging in more small talks with his colleagues, grabbing coffee with them after work – which was received with warmness, surprise and fortunately no nosey questions. Being able to talk about hardships all teachers must face and silly stuff people at 30 joke about was kinda reinvigorating. At those times, Junhoe could almost forget about that loneliness eating him inside. He was so glad that more than once he caught himself with a face wet from tears on his way back home, all by himself. Belonging, even if for an hour, warmed his heart.
Now, being really honest, Koo Junhoe knew there was more to this crying on the way back home than just receiving the warmness from his co-workers. He felt quite bad for this, but he had to face the fact that every time he left his colleagues, he started thinking about all the times he had similar conversations with Kim Jiwon. Even though those people were incredible, funny and smart, sometimes he would catch himself thinking that all he truly wanted was a few moments with Jiwon. He would even consider exchanging it all for an hour with the younger. That was fucking messed up.
So, Koo Junhoe daily tried to engage in conversations with different people. He would call Kim Jinhwan at nights, discuss subjects with one or two students after class and even spend time talking about all sorts of stuff with the other professors. He avoided the place he knew Jiwon went to smoke, restraining himself from a certain area of the university. He thought God truly existed because it has been almost two months and he never bumped into Jiwon. He only saw the other from afar a few times, which was enough to make his heart skip a few beats but not bad enough to make him lose his composure in front of others.
Junhoe’s memory is not the greatest, sometimes he really has trouble remembering things. However, certain dates and events just won’t leave his mind and the day Jiwon broke up with him was one of these. Fortunately, Jinhwan has really great memory, especially when it comes to his friends. Therefore, wasn’t a big surprise when Junhoe got a call from the other asking if he was up to a couple of beers. In less than 30 minutes Junhoe was out on the street, heading to the nearest bus station. Not long after that he and Jinhwan met at a bar they both have been going to since college.
For a while, they drank beer in silence, fact that wasn’t uncommon for them. Jinan has been friends with June for 10 years or so, which means he knows the other pretty well. Junhoe has some ways of doing stuff; sometimes he’s way talkative, at other moments he prefers to be silent. At hard times, Jinhwan would rather wait for his friend to stark talking than pushing him to do so.
Junhoe was lost in all kinds of thoughts. He chose a sit near a window so he could distract himself looking at the live beings out there. There were so many types of people, but in the end they were all eaten by the big Seoul and its rapidness. Everyone would walk in a hurry, afraid of missing out. That’s one of the biggest problems of modernity – the anxiety. People can’t slow down: everyone needs to keep moving at all times, no matter what – and don’t forget to think about the future. One needs to plan every second ahead so that they won’t miss a thing. The saddest part is, they all lose lots of things; moments with precious ones, the beauty in the small acts and places; the time in solitude one should enjoy. Everybody was always losing too much.
When he was a college student, he used to plan a lot. He had his future written down on his bullet journals, notebooks and so on. Junhoe knew exactly what he would do a week, a month, even 5 years from then on. But eventually everything he built up would break down and he would painfully understand that people can’t control life – and that should be okay, according to Jinhwan. This one was completely different from June; Jinan would plan stuff but in a moderate way, allowing things to follow their courses. Actually, both of them were really different. While Junhoe was all or nothing, extreme, passionate about every little thing (which eventually led him to give up on stuff), Jinhwan was always looking for balance, being careful before jumping into things and so on. That’s exactly why they ended up being friends – their differences brought them up together. And since then Junhoe has been trying to learn from Jinhwan.
“You know, you’re some sort of role model to me. I wish I could be more like you; take things slowly, not let myself drown in emptiness…”
Jinhwan lips form a small smile, kinda nostalgic, like he’s listening to something he got used to and grown fond of. “I like your poetic side, June, even though it can be quite painful”.
Junhoe doesn’t reply direct to the other’s sentence, instead he seems to continue what he was saying before. “But right now, more than anything, I wish I could take care of my relationships like you do. And, being honest with myself, I wish I loved my work like you love yours”.
Jinhwan listens carefully, narrowing his eyebrows at the last sentence. He sips some beer and takes a few moments, like he’s chasing after the right words. When he opens his mouth, Junhoe cuts him and add something else.
“I just can’t see myself fitting into this position, being a professor, giving classes to people who don’t even appreciate my work or Sociology in general. I just, I don’t know until when I can keep up with this”.
“Say, you’re always talking about how you dislike giving classes but do you really? If you dislike it so much, how could your class pass so much passion, like I’ve heard from some of your students? How could your eyes shine when you talk about your studies? You see, ain’t you telling yourself a lie just to make your life miserable?”
Koo Junhoe is astonished. Passion? Jinhwan really meant that? For a long time Junhoe has been convinced that he’s almost a fraud as a professor, that it’s something obvious for everyone. His students don’t see that? Or is his friend right? More questions pop up to an already confused June and he realizes he needs time to face his problems. Right now, there’s little he can say to his friend.
“Thank you for always giving me more answers to pursue”.
They both laugh a little, drinking their beers right after. The conversation’s topic starts to change but Junhoe keeps in mind what he was told. They talk about old times, Jinhwan’s difficultness with his students (he’s an anthropologist and give classes to those majoring in Sociology and Anthropology), Seoul’s traffic, but never about Jiwon.
V.
Another Monday comes and Koo Junhoe welcomes it. Until last term he used to work on Monday mornings, but now he only needs to get to uni at 2p.m. In the past he would be grateful for the chance to sleep a little more, but for the last 3 months he has been waking up early on Mondays to practice jiu-Jitsu, his new passion. Junhoe could never thank Jinan enough for showing him this great martial art.
The professor was always a lazy guy who enjoyed spending time reading and sipping on his whiskey (of course it used to be beer back when he was a student). He wasn’t really into exercises but he would try to walk at least 3 times a week, listening to music and paying attention to his surroundings. However, for the last 2 years he wasn’t doing much for his health. He had no body conscience whatsoever, he didn’t care enough.
Truth be said, Junhoe had stopped caring for a lot of things regarding himself. He went on living not thinking too much about what was going on with him – that is, until he and Jiwon started talking and then seeing each other. This was extremely important for the professor for various reasons, but mainly because he realized how much he needed to change.
Jiu-jitsu came to Junhoe at the right time. He was ready to accept and respect its philosophy; he was aching for meaning and the martial art gave him that; he needed to use his body to express his feelings, to let them flow, and Jiu-jitsu allowed him to. Junhoe felt complete, he felt that he found something he could lean on to. So now he’s been training 4-5 times a week, every week, for 3 months. He’s proud and content. He belongs.
The training finishes and June is exhausted – in the best way possible. He’s drinking water when the sensei calls him to discuss some matters. The Koo is really nervous, afraid he has made something against the philosophy, some sort of mistake. His hands are almost shaking but he manages to suppress it. As he sits still in front of the sensei, ready to listen, he is surprised by the other’s sentence: “Please lie down, belly on the floor and no kimono”. He does exactly as he is told and is astonished when he feels the sensei’s hands massaging his muscles.
“Our movements tell a lot about our feelings”, the sensei begins. “Jiu-jitsu, as well as other martial arts, is a form of expression. Every move is unique, in the sense of being done by unique individuals. So, observing one’s body teaches us a lot about this person”.
He falls on silence as he continues to massages Junhoe’s body. The latter only takes his time absorbing the words, trying to learn from them.
“Your movements told me a few things about you, Junhoe-ssi, and your muscles confirm my speculations. Your shoulders need rest, so you may pay more attention to the weight your mind is putting onto them. Your heart needs peace, so you may want to resolve past problems and move on. None of it is easy and you can’t rush your process; take your time, but make sure you use it wisely”. Like this, the sensei finishes the massage and tells a taken aback Junhoe to get up.
VI.
Koo Junhoe isn’t the same after this morning training. He finished his classes for the day and decided to sit on a bench at the campus instead of heading home right after. He’s drinking an espresso that he can’t really taste because his mind is way too busy remembering the sensei’s monologue. It could mean a lot of things, however the more he thinks more he realizes he knows exactly what the sensei was referring to.
The weight on Junhoe’s shoulders exists ever since he felt forced to pick teaching as his work. He didn’t really want it but it was the best option available for him. Being a professor in a good university meant he would be financially stable and also able to publish articles about low-budget indie movies in magazines. Eventually, he got used to it all, but there was still this weight. For years he thought he was guilty for picking up teaching, guilty for not being the best professor… but his last conversation with Jinhwan made him doubt these thoughts.
In fact, as the sensei said, his mind was putting weight onto his shoulders and Junhoe was actually starting to believe it was unnecessary. Maybe Jinhwan was right and June was only making himself miserable, as if he got used to it. Looking honestly to his life, everything he acquired, the great people he met as a professor… was everything really that meaningless? The emptiness Junhoe felt, was that a reality or a sort of auto sabotage? Was Junhoe unhappy because he wasn’t where we wanted to be or because he couldn’t look at his surroundings carefully and realize he had all the things that once made him proud and joyful?
And when it comes to his heart, Junhoe also knew the problems that needed to be solved. The steps he needed to take. He had to –
“Hello. Sorry to disturb you. I mean, you seemed quite focused on your thoughts. I just, well, I just thought that, you know, would be nice to ask what’s up”.
Junhoe almost can’t believe his ears. Five months have passed by since their last contact. To be honest, the professor started to think they might not ever talk again, even though his heart desperately told him the contrary. Junhoe doesn’t know if considerable minutes passed while he faced surprise and confusion, but Jiwon’s anxious expression waked him to reality and made him speak.
“Oh, hi. Huh. Nothing much, actually. You?”
“Yeah… well, same. Oh, right, I’ve been reading Benjamin, you know. Thought his discussion about modernity needed more of my attention. I, I also published a paper in a magazine from the Cultural Production department. It’s nothing big but-“
“Wait, it is something big. Oh my god, Jiwon, I’m really happy for you”. Junhoe suddenly got up, smiling ear to ear. He got so excited about the news he almost forgot everything else. He almost gave the other a hug. He almost crossed a line.
Jiwon doesn’t seem to realize or get bothered by the sudden change in attitude. He smiles a proud yet shy smile, finishing what he was saying before being cut. “But I wanted to thank you anyway. Back then you really helped me, more than you can imagine, more than I told you”.
They fall silent, a heavy silence. The past can be a sensitive subject, especially when you don’t usually talk about it. Junhoe tries to break the ice a little, afraid he will have another sad memory with Jiwon.
“You’re about to graduate, right? It’s really amazing, to publish in a magazine as a junior. You should be proud”. Junhoe really means that. Jiwon, as the professor already told him, is a brilliant student and he needs to value his intelligence a little more.
Junhoe smiles fondly and happily to a grateful Jiwon. At that moment, their eyes met for a few seconds and Junhoe feels as if electricity spread through his veins. It’s always something in Jiwon’s eyes.
They nod their goodbyes and Koo Junhoe watches Kim Jiwon’s back once more. It feels symbolic as he thinks that his past student is now walking a new path, facing new obstacles as his graduation is getting closer. Junhoe smiles, glad for being part of Jiwon’s trajectory. As if by intuition, the younger turns and sees the sweet smile on June’s lips. Jiwon gives a big smile, showing his cute crooked teeth, before going on walking. Junhoe swears he could see the other shining.