Chapter 2: SIGNING OUT, SJ
Why is it that getting ready in the morning is such a hassle?
While fixing the collar of my unbuttoned shirt, I pull my chair out from underneath my desk to take a seat in front of my freshly bought laptop. I excitedly open it and wait for it to turn on with bated breath. After opening my email and scrolling through the spam, I eventually see the one I was looking for and grin brightly.
Fingers ablaze, I hurriedly type a haste response to my pen pal with the words flowing from my mind to the screen in a rhythmic dance. I apologise to him for taking so long to respond to him and then inform him about the fact that my clumsy self managed to spill coffee all over my laptop, completely shorting it out.
Then I go on to address his fear about coming out to his family as bisexual because of their religion. Although I do not know what the Quran says about gay people, he has told me details about how loving his mother is and I cannot imagine her rejecting him just because of who he likes.
As long as you are certain that you are safe, ready and comfortable enough coming out to them, then you should go for it, mate. Good to hear from you though. Signing out, SJ <3
With a dramatic flourish, I click on the send button. Leaning back in my chair, I read over the message with a satisfied nod.
My gaze sweeps across my bedroom and I grimace painfully at the scolding I know I'm going to receive from my mum when I get back home from school. She is a clean freak of some sort, always worrying about the bacteria accumulating under all the clothes strewn around my bed and the papers I have scrunched up after getting frustrated from getting all my trig homework incorrect.
I don't even want to ask my brother for help. He was just as terrible at it when he was in school, maybe even worse. I cannot understand how it gets so messy in two days. I just tidied up during the weekend.
Also, where the hell is my watch?
As I'm bent down, searchingly looking for it underneath my bed, my door loudly opens. Curiously, I peek over at the agape doorway underneath my armpit and I catch the upside down frame of my youngest brother standing there. His hands come up and he signs something, a little too quickly for me to interpret.
"What?" I muse, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.
Dismissively, he waves me off and then jogs away from the doorway without even closing my door.
I irritably stretch my leg over to kick said door closed.
Eventually, I manage to find the wristwatch that my aunt bought for me when she visited during the summer holidays two years ago and I wing it around my wrist, only able to pin it to the first hole on the strap. I will admit that it is not the best gizmo for a senior, but my mum always insists on me wearing the Dora the Explorer item, because it was a gift from her sister and it's apparently disrespectful to not wear the gift that a person chose for you out of the goodness of their heart.
At first, I tried to pawn it off onto Chu Hua who retorted with, and I quote, I'm not your idiot, Seong Jin.
When I approached Yang Jin with it, he had less to say and more to do. Like rolling his eyes at me and throwing me out of his room.
Not even sweet, quiet Ji Ho wanted the watch.
So, I spent the tenth grade hiding it underneath my sleeve or just taking it off when I got to the grounds of Mossbourne Community Academy and placing it inside my bag. At the present day, I no longer care what anyone says so I flaunt it around with pride.
After sliding a blue jersey over my shirt, I pick up my orange bag from the bed and grab my phone out of its charger, shoving it down the back pocket of my faded denim. Before I forget, I also grab the headphones from my bedside table and hang them over my shoulders.
God knows I need to listen to music after school on the bus ride back home. I don't think I can stand the rowdy chatter that happens even during that short amount of time.
I remember this one time I made the mistake of leaving my headphones at home. Never have I been more miserable. Yang Jin graduating from high school three years ago, while I was still a tenth grader, really made travelling to and from school very difficult.
When I begged Taylor to come and pick me up every morning, she first gave me this audacious look, as if to silently ask me how dare I. Then after muttering her precepts underneath her breath, she firmly vowed to never give me rides, because she won't be, and I quote, someone's damn chauffeur. The whole of tenth grade I drove with Franklin.
Then at the beginning of the twelfth year, Edward offered to give me rides. Until he became my best friend's boyfriend. Now, he needs to leave earlier to go and pick her up. I'm not waking up earlier just so he can fetch his girlfriend who, by the way, already has her own car and is capable of driving so I take the bus.
On top of my study desk rests my camera soundly, held captive by my tripod. I quickly grab it, throwing the neck strap over my shoulder, and letting it rest on my waist soundly.
As I'm leaving the room, I wonder if I can still join the club to take images for the school's newspaper or maybe for the yearbook, just to keep myself busy for the entirety of my final, senior year.
We were supposed to sign up for clubs during the first week of school, but I obviously forgot to. I tried to pick a sports activity, so I can get back in shape and lose the few extra pounds I have accumulated over the years but the thought of exerting myself in any form of exercise traumatised me.
I pick up the pace after catching the time on my wristwatch. I barely have time for breakfast before the bus leaves.
If it does, I will have to either drive myself to school, hitch a ride from Franklin before he heads to the diner to open it, or Yang Jin has to take me, which is not likely to happen since he is too lazy to wake up at this impious hour and drive his brother to school when he's clearly in dire need of it.
He only ever does stuff for our sister now that I think about it. It's like she is his only sibling and I'm just this random guy who's an inconvenience in his life.
Hurrying down the stairs, I catch my mum in the living room area drinking her daily cup of what I'd only assume is coffee. She needs caffeine in her body before she passes out from exhaustion.
I remember waking up to the sound of the key rattling from downstairs, while the entire house was being swallowed into dreams and oblivion and catching the time on my phone. It was extremely late, an ungodly hour where even the witches retire back into the darkness of the forest.
Just like that, I decided to never become a physician if I do get accepted into the institutions I applied to.
I would rather pursue something like engineering or law where I can complain about my feet killing me at seven p.m. and not the following morning at two a.m. or even later.
Fashion design has been high on my list of careers I want to pursue, but Ji Ho tells me all the time that that is not the path I'm supposed to follow. Our mum agrees with him, but not because she has a sixth sense for these things. It's because she regards fashion design as a hobby.
When I picked a course for tertiary, I did not tick fashion design. I ticked biochemistry, chemical engineering and medicine. Except it's not bloody, hospital medicine. I would rather specialise in psychiatry.
I'm not even surprised to see that my mum is watching some medical series. I think it's called Grey's Anatomy.
She is way too obsessed with this show. Well, more so critiquing the medical validity in said show. She will even go as far as compromising a few minutes of sleep for it. No matter how tired she may be, she will never miss an opportunity to obsessively dismiss and infuriatingly point out how stupid it is that defibrillators are pulled out before doing chest compressions.
When I was younger I would stay up all night just to watch Courage the Cowardly Dog. I do remember the good old days when that cartoon was my Achilles heel. No matter how early I'd have to wake up the following day, I'd make sure to stay up just to catch that show.
Back then, Amma never really reprimanded us for certain things. She would always tiptoe around us and gave us the freedom we never asked for. That is until the tenth grade knocked on the door and Yang Jin started acting up, because of puberty.
When she averts her gaze from being widely fixated on the television, I ignore the dark circles underneath her eyes and the tired daze which is causing them to slightly droop. Her black hair is trimmed short, a few strands covering her forehead, but barely her hazel brown eyes.
I remember there being a time when her hair was longer, going past her shoulders.
Franklin's expression when he saw her for the very first time without all that hair made my siblings and I chortle for days. It's something I wish I could've captured on my camera.
It took him a while to get used to her without the hair again because, honestly, I think he loved her hair more than he did her. At times, I would walk in on them without knocking and Amma would be fast asleep after a graveyard shift at the hospital while Franklin would stroke her tangled strands back into their natural, untamed curls.
"Joh-eun achim-ieyo," I greet her in Korean, bowing respectfully.
This is sort of practice for whenever we go over to visit Halmeoni. She is very strict about speaking to her in the language she grew up in and the culture she was brought up in.
She just tugs the corners of her mouth up tiredly.
"Rough night?" I muse knowingly, leaning against the doorway with my arms crossed. Then an idea hits me and with an amused grin, I bring my camera up to record her. "Or should I say rough morning, because it is looking rough?"
Through the lens, she gives me a dry look. "I would love to talk to my uninterested son about my running up and down a hospital, saving lives and helping a patient come back from the dead," she yawns widely, blinking the tears away, "but I just don't have the energy for that right now."
"And you want me to go into medicine," I scoff, satirically, shaking my head in dread as I close the viewfinder screen and stop the recording. "I mean, just look at you. I have seen you hit rock bottom before and I mean no offence when I say this, but this—this is a new low."
"You don't have to be a physician. There are other options like being a regular GP or a nurse." She then pauses and ends her statement with a stabbing, "I mean, it's not like you could be a physician since you're not nearly as intelligent as I was at your age."
"Hey!" I narrow my eyes at her in insult.
"No offence," she quickly adds with an amused smile twisting onto her lips and her cup rises to them to cover her humour up.
"That doesn't make it less offensive," I reply with a pout.
"Exactly."
"Seong Jin," I hear a childlike squeal and I turn around to see my sister running up to me.
Her two, dark brown, somehow properly braided by Franklin pigtails bounce up and down and once she is close enough, she smiles up at me excitedly and then makes the conscious decision to embrace my leg.
For a split second, I recoil into my own skin until I force myself to relax. She might strangle me in my sleep for that sort of reaction. I am genuinely not used to Chu Hua smiling at me like she is sincerely happy to see me though. So I suspiciously look her up and down and conclude from her docile expression that she definitely wants something from me. The question is, what?
Is she secretly slipping a stupid slap-me note onto my back? I check, just in case.
She is dressed in her favourite black, rock band tee with the trousers that Franklin got for her when they took her and Ji Ho to Disneyland for their fifth birthday. To this day I still find it unfair that the youngest siblings get spoiled rotten. Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to fly over to Disneyland for any of my birthdays.
As softly as I can, I grin down at her. I'm still dubious of her intent, but at the same time, I'm glad to know that she can still hug me like this. With Yang Jin always whispering in her ear, I rarely ever get hugs from her.
I think he wants her to hate me. No, no, I don't think he wants her to hate me; I know he wants her to hate me. It's because he knows that Ji Ho loves me more than he does him. The kid has even admitted it to us.
"Seong Jin is my favourite sibling," he signed to us at the dinner table one day.
I was delighted to hear that. Surprised, but still delighted.
I would have assumed his twin was his favourite sibling since they spend so much time with each other. Although Chu Hua can be mean sometimes, so I understand why Ji Ho does not consider her his favourite. I accommodate his more sensitive side.
Yang Jin got pissed off and declared Chu Hua his favourite sibling even if technically he really loves Ji Ho. We all do. He's quiet, unlike our sister who has a big mouth.
"Why are you touching me?" I eventually ask her.
She's still smiling up at me innocently when she says, "Cause… you're the best brother ever, oppa."
Well, that's just not true. Not that I'm not the best brother ever. I definitely can be the best brother ever. I mean, Ji Ho can attest to that. I don't think she actually believes that. She must want something from me. Whoever taught her this manipulative behaviour needs to be doing a better job.
When our mother comments on how her babies are finally getting along, both Chu Hua and I sweetly grin over at her to convey that we are, in fact, finally getting along, but once our mum has glanced away, I narrow my eyes down at my only sister.
"Okay, Chu Hua," I mutter unimpressed, forcing her arms off me. "What do you want?"
"What?" she gasps dramatically, going back to hugging my leg. "Why would I want anything, oppa? I am just happy to see you, my kind, loving, selfless brother."
"Cut the act. It's not working."
The guileless look on her face vanishes within seconds and she pulls away from my leg. Haughtily, she crosses her arms over her tee and puckers her lips in cheek as she tilts her head to the side to look at me like I'm the most irksome person on planet Earth.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the usual look that I normally receive from her.
She always thinks that she's so much smarter than me even though she clearly isn't. How stupid does she think I am? Besides, she wasn't even doing a great job pretending to like me nor complimenting me.
I don't miss her trying to subtly glance at my camera before she's back to plastering an innocent smile on her face.
"Okay, fine. So, I have this scrapbooking project I need to complete by the end of the month, and I was wondering if you could be a kind, loving brother and lend me your—"
"No."
"Oh, come on. Please," she begs desperately. "I won't break it. I promise."
"If you think I'm gonna trust you with the last thing I got from Appa," I protectively grip the camera, "you must be crazy."
"Okay, fine." She sighs defeatedly. "But can you at least help me? I cannot fail Art. I'll be the laughingstock of the entire grade."
I give her a sideways stare. "Yeah, sure, I'll help you."
"Thank yo—"
"On one condition," I cut her off.
She merely frowns up at me, glaring angrily before musing, "What condition?"
With a smirk, I respond, "You have to clean my room for an entire week."
"What?" she exclaims, dread dawning on her face and I can already see the gears turning inside her head as she thinks of my room. "No. No way."
"Well then, guess who's gonna be the laughingstock of the entire grade, because she failed an Art project."
I pretend to be walking away from her which causes her to grab my arm in a panic, halting me. A satisfied smirk twitches onto my lips, but I manage to tame my expression before turning around to look at Chu Hua.
"Three days," she unwillingly negotiates.
"Four."
"Deal," she replies softly.
I bend down on one knee so that we're at eye level and then hold my hand out to her, an amused grin playing around the edge of my lips.
She rolls her eyes, her jaw clenching in anger, but she nevertheless shoves her hand in mine and we proceed to shake on it.
"You can start today. My room needs a little touch up here and there. Also, I didn't open the windows because I was worried it might get too cold, but now it's so stuffy in there so I would appreciate it if you opened them. I also forgot to water my hydrangea and my rose. Please do that too."
With a groan, Chu Hua turns around and starts dragging her feet upstairs to my room.
"Don't touch my private things," I yell at her retreating form and just as she's about to disappear from my sight, she glowers over at me over her shoulder, mouthing that she hates me. Again, I smile in hilarity.
"Seong Jin," Amma calls me and when I glance over at her curiously, she scowls at me disapprovingly.
"What?" I chuckle, widening my eyes as blamelessly as I can, but she clearly doesn't find humour in my actions when she shakes her head.
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