ã€ŠSeeing Myself In Youã€‹


 Chapter 1: Meeting Ernest

    I sit there in class, looking out the window at the heavy rain falling. The sound of the raindrops hitting the windowpane is a familiar comfort to me, it reminds me of home. I am lost in my own thoughts, wondering what the future holds for me and my studies. I know that I need to focus on the task at hand, but the rain outside is a constant distraction.

    I hear my name being called out by the professor, "Ye-ye, uh--" And I quickly correct her with my name, "Ye-jun." It is a bit embarrassing, as the professor apologizes for her mistake. The professor then starts scanning the room, "Ernest? Ernest? Ah, there you are. You''ll be pairing up with Ye-jun."

    I see Ernest looking up, he seems to be searching for me, and I notice that he immediately looks back down at his papers, not wanting to appear as though he is staring at me. I can''t help but feel a little bit self-conscious about my appearance. I know that I have an intimidating look, but I don''t want that to be the first impression that people have of me.

    After the professor finishes her lecture, she decides to let us sit next to our partners. I see Ernest looking over at me and before I can get up and move over to him, I notice that he is frantically moving all his stuff, trying to make space on his desk. I approach him and sit down next to him. I politely introduce myself and we start discussing the project we will be working on.

    "So, it looks like I''ll be helping you with the stage design for a music performance, is that right?" Ernest says with a shy smile on his face.

    "Yes, that''s correct," I reply, with my gaze locked on his. "I''m really excited to work with you on this project."

    "Oh?" He responds, surprised.

    "I''ve seen some of your work before and I think you''re really talented," I say, remembering how the art piece I saw that was done by him made me feel some sort of connection with his artwork.

    This seems to have taken him by surprise, which makes sense because he probably didn''t expect me to know about his artwork.

    "Where have you seen my work before? If you don''t mind me asking," Ernest says quietly.

    I smile and reply, "I saw your artwork at the student art exhibition last semester. I was really impressed by it, and I''ve been wanting to work with you ever since."

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    As he speaks, I can''t help but notice his features. He has piercings in multiple places, including a bullring and rings in both sides of his nostrils. He also has a lot of ear piercings. He has brown eyes and skin that matches, and medium-length, black, curly hair that slightly falls in front of his eyes. He has a shy and kind of awkward personality, but as soon as he begins talking about his art, his expression softens, and he almost looks like a little boy, beaming with excitement.

    Ernest and I continue talking about art and the project well into the end of class. Suddenly, Ernest grabs his phone out of his backpack and looks at it. "Oh, I need to get going!" I apologize for taking up his time, but he reassures me that it''s okay and that he just has somewhere he needs to be. As he starts packing up his things, I ask him for his contact information so we can plan the project. He gives me his number and I give him mine. "Okay, well, I-I have to get going, so we''ll meet up soon," he says before quickly leaving the lecture hall.

    I sat in the lecture hall thinking, "What an odd kid." I mumbled under my breath. I don''t understand why some people can be so quiet, especially in college. It''s important to present oneself as confident, even if one doesn''t feel confident. Insecurities should not be made visible to others. That''s how you can get hurt.

    I don''t know why I am thinking about this so much. I grab my laptop and slide it into my messenger bag. I take a look outside and see that it is already dark, which means walking back to my apartment will be stressful. Hopefully, the rain has calmed down. I am walking out of class when I feel my phone vibrating, I take a look down and see that my friend Don is calling.

    "Hello?"

    "Dude! Why haven''t you texted me back?" Don shouted into the phone.

    "Bro, calm down! I was in class," I chuckled.

    "Didn''t class end like hours ago?"

    "You''re being dramatic! What do you want?"

    "What are you doing tonight?"

    "Going home. Why?"

    "Want to go out?"

    "Not really..."

    "It''ll be fun!"

    "How is this going to be different from any other night?"

    "I don''t know, maybe we''ll do something new or different. Come on, it''ll be a change of pace from just sitting at home," Don says.

    "I don''t know, I''m pretty tired," I replied.

    "Come on, it''ll be good for you to get out of the house. Plus, I need a wingman," Don says.

    "Wingman for what?" I asked.

    "I met this girl at the library earlier and I want to ask her out. I need you to come with me for moral support," Don says. I don''t need to see him to know that he has a big grin on his face. I met Don after playing a gig at a local bar. He came up to me, super drunk and told me how great I was at playing the guitar, and that was enough for me. I''ve always found Don to be very outgoing, and even though he''s on the shorter side, I have to give him credit for at least attempting to hit on any girl he''s interested in.

    "Alright, fine. But we''re not staying out too late," I agreed.

    "Thank you! I''ll pick you up at 8," Don says excitedly before hanging up.

    Another night of getting drunk and waking up feeling terrible. I hope this girl is worth it, Don.

 Chapter 2: Unexpected Connections

    I wish it was Saturday and that I didn''t go out last night. The girl didn''t even show up, which of course led Don and I to drink more. Now I am feeling the consequences of my actions. My head is pounding, my mouth feels dry, and I''m feeling pretty awful. I lay in bed, not wanting to get up, but I have class today and if I start skipping now, my parents would be upset. Even at the age of 22, I still feel like I''m constantly being lectured by them, and they don''t even live in this country.

    I drag myself out of bed and head to the bathroom. I take off my alcohol and cigarette smelling clothes and jump into the shower to get rid of the regrets from last night. Why do I do this to myself? I thought coming to America would make me a different person, but instead, I''m still doing the same shit. I mean, I get my homework and studies done, but I just want to play music. If I could play music and not go to school, that would be ideal.

    As I hop out of the shower and start drying off, I hear my phone message tone go off. I check my phone to see who the message might be from, and it''s from a random number. The message reads:

    "Hi Ye-Jun, please let me know your schedule so we can plan the stage design. Thanks, Ernest."

    Oh, it''s the shy kid from the scenic design class. I chortle to myself thinking that he probably doesn''t text people often.

    "Hey I can," I stop midway thinking about what my schedule is like for the rest of this week. I know I have a show to play at a bar Friday night and then Saturday Don and a few of our other friends are going out to a club. Shit, I really don''t want to do any work on Sunday, but that might be the only time I have available. I look back down at my phone and finish texting Ernest, "Hey I can meet up on Sunday, but prefer after 11."

    After I send the text, I reluctantly finish getting ready for the day. I have two classes today, and the thought of having to sit through them fills me with dread. I grab my bag and trudge out the door, checking my schedule one last time before leaving with a heavy sigh. On the way to school, I listen to music to try and numb my mind and block out the world. It doesn''t always help, the music only serves to remind me of my own misery and the problems that I can''t seem to escape. When I play my guitar, that helps with escaping, but lately I¡¯m just not feeling it. The weight of my responsibilities and the monotony of my daily routine feels suffocating. I don¡¯t have anyone to talk to about these thoughts I have, or at least I don¡¯t feel it¡¯s necessary to open up to others. Sure, I have friends, however, I don''t think they want to hear about my problems.

    As I walk on campus, I think to myself, "At least this is my last year here." I manage to make it close enough to class without running into anyone I know. I''m not saying I''m popular, but after attending as many events as I have, you''d probably know a lot of people too. However, I feel like I never really fit in. Some people may have been intimidated by my physical appearance, such as my height and deep voice, but I can''t help that. I am looking forward to leaving this place and the negative memories behind. It has been a draining experience and I am ready to move on and start fresh.

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    As I walk to my first class, I notice Ernest walking quickly down the hallway with his head down, not paying attention to where he is going. I think to myself that I should say hi, as he still hasn''t texted me back.

    "Hey, Ernest!" I probably say it a bit too loudly, but I want to make sure he notices me. I see him quickly turning his head, looking in every direction except mine. I wave my arm to catch his attention. Finally, he makes eye contact with me and slightly raises his hand in acknowledgement. I walk over to him, so we can talk as we continue on our way to class.

    "Hey! I''m glad I saw you!" I try to sound upbeat, despite feeling a headache from the night before.

    "Oh, really?" Ernest sounds confused.

    "Yeah, I mean you didn''t text me back."

    "Oh, uh, right! I-I''m sorry. I don''t really check my phone once I''m on campus." Ernest seems a bit awkward.

    "No problem. So, does Sunday work for you for getting together?"

    "Yes, that works for me. Do you have any ideas for the stage design?"

    "You''re the creative one, so I''ll leave it up to you. I''ll take care of typing up the paper."

    "Oh, uh, are you sure?" Ernest seems happy that I trust him to handle the creative aspect.

    "Of course, man!" After saying this, I see Ernest form an almost bashful smile, which makes me almost mimic his expression. I shake off the feeling of happiness that I felt seeing his reaction, "Well, anyways I better get going to class. If I don''t see you before, I''ll see you on Sunday."

    "Oh, right! I''ll see you Sunday, Ye-jun!"

    "Sounds good, see you then." I say to Ernest as we part ways and head to our respective classes. I can''t help but feel good about the interaction, even though he seems a bit weird, I really didn¡¯t mind talking with him.

    The day goes by slowly, there''s nothing new with any of my classes. I find it more challenging to interact with people now that my time at college is coming to an end. I try to think of any memorable moments that may have happened, but nothing comes to mind. I''ve made a few acquaintances, but would I really call them my friends? The only person I think I would still keep in touch with is Don. He''s a unique character and always makes things more interesting. I feel as though I am slowly being engulfed by an emptiness, and I won''t be able to escape until it consumes me entirely.

    At the start of college, I was more lively. I was involved in clubs and played music more frequently, and I met many people. But at some point, all of that seemed to have faded away. I can''t remember when I started feeling this way. Now, I struggle to find motivation to do anything. Everything feels pointless and I can''t shake off this overwhelming sense of hopelessness. I try to force myself to participate in activities and socialize but it feels like I''m just going through the motions. I wish I could go back to the way things were before, but I can''t seem to find my way back to that person I used to be. I just feel lost and alone.

    As I continue walking back to my apartment, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I check to see who''s calling, and it''s Don. I don''t feel like going out, but what else am I going to do when I get back to my place? Just sleep? I guess I should answer his call, "Hello?"

    "Dude! Where are you?"

    "Walking home."

    "Do you have plans?" I knew this was coming.

    "Umm, no."

    "There''s a bar that just opened not too far from where I live. LET''S GO!" Don is practically shouting through the phone. I don''t want to go, but I can''t say no.

    "Umm, okay. I''ll be there in 20."

    Here''s to another night of drinking and a rough morning. Why can''t I just say no?

 Chapter 3: Meeting Ye-Jun

    I sit here, looking out the window at the heavy rain falling. ¡°Okay, I''ll choose partners for everyone, so be ready,¡± the professor says. I groan inwardly. That means I''ll have to interact with others in this class. I was hoping for some alone time to work on my own. I enrolled in this class with the expectation of doing some individual assignments, but it seems like that won''t be the case.

    Suddenly I hear my name being called out, "Ernest? Ernest?"

    I shot my hand up, not wanting the professor to know I wasn''t paying attention.

    "Ah, there you are. You''ll be pairing up with Ye-ye, uh¡ª"

    A deep, husky voice interrupted, "Ye-jun."

    "My apologies," The professor said, shamefully.

    My eyes dart to where the deep voice is coming from. There, I see a rather intimidating-looking Asian guy who slowly looks over my way. I immediately look back down at my papers, not wanting to appear as though I''m staring at him.

    So he''s supposed to be my partner for this entire semester?

    After the professor finishes her lecture, she decides to let us sit next to our partners. Before I can get up and move over, I notice Ye-jun is already heading my way. I frantically start moving all my stuff, so I don''t seem rude to have it all over the desks.

    As Ye-jun approaches, I try to compose myself and put on a friendly face. He politely introduces himself and sits down next to me. I introduce myself back and we start discussing the project we''ll be working on.

    "So, it looks like I''ll help you with the stage design for a music performance, is that right?" I say with a shy smile on my face, my heart racing as I look into Ye-jun''s eyes.

    "Yes, that''s correct," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze locked onto mine. "I''m really excited to work with you on this project."

    "Oh?" I respond, surprised and flattered by his compliment.

    "I''ve seen some of your work before and I think you''re really talented," he says, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

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    This takes me by surprise because I didn''t take him as the sort of person who would be into art, let alone even know who I am.

    "Where have you seen my work before? If you don''t mind me asking¡­"

    He smiles and replies, "I saw your artwork at the student art exhibition last semester. I was really impressed by your work, and I''ve been wanting to work with you ever since."

    I feel my cheeks getting hot, I don''t think it''s out of embarrassment, but I feel something else. My heart is pounding. The way he looks at me and talks about my work makes me feel special and appreciated.

    While Ye-jun is talking about my art work, I can''t help but notice his striking features. His hair is a chestnut brown color, styled in a short messy cut. He has sharp, chiseled features and a strong jawline, with striking almond-shaped eyes that are dark brown. His skin is smooth and has a nice complexion. I notice that when he isn''t talking, he has a very stoic and mysterious expression, but as soon as he begins speaking, his facial features ease up and he appears not as standoffish.

    I''m not sure how long we were talking for, but suddenly I noticed the lecture hall was empty. As Ye-jun was still talking, I grab my phone and check the time. "Oh, I need to get going!" I say. Ye-jun apologizes for keeping me, but I assure him it''s no problem. I start packing up my belongings and Ye-jun asks for my contact information so we can plan the project. I feel a bit nervous giving him my phone number, but I try not to overthink it and give it to him anyway. He gives me his number in return. "Okay, well, I have to get going, so we''ll meet up soon," I say, feeling a little flustered.

    At this moment, I am hastily leaving the lecture hall. I feel guilty for abruptly leaving Ye-jun, but I am eager to check out an art exhibit that has just opened. I consider inviting Ye-jun to join me, but as it is our first meeting, I think it might seem strange. I manage to catch the E line in time, as the exhibit is only open during the week and closes at 4 PM, giving me enough time to view some of the displayed artwork. I am filled with excitement to see the pieces that have been curated for this exhibit. Since I could remember, I¡¯ve always really been into painting and it has been a while since I last attended an exhibit. The sound of the train rattles and the bustling of the city fade away as I mentally prepare to immerse myself in the world of color, form, and creativity.

    As I hurry down the street, I can see the museum in the distance. The sun is hiding behind the buildings and the cool air brushes my face. I quicken my pace, eager to arrive before the exhibit closes. Art is my passion, and I find joy in immersing myself in its world. Some might view it as a solitary interest, but I am content with it. Loving something deeply and focusing on it can bring fulfillment and satisfaction. Although I may not have many friends, I am okay with that and feel content with my passion for art.

    Finally, I reach the museum''s entrance and take a deep breath. I pull out my ticket and walk inside, ready to be transported to another world. As I wander through the galleries, I feel as though I am being surrounded by beauty, creativity, and inspiration. For a moment, the world around me fades away and I am completely absorbed in the art in front of me. This is my happy place, where I can escape and find joy in the things I love.

 Chapter 4: The Trust of a Partner

    I wake up to the sound of my alarm, feeling content due to my visit to the art exhibit yesterday. I stretch and sit up in bed, replaying the vivid memories of the beautiful artwork in my mind. The colors, shapes, and emotions captured in each piece have left a lasting impact on me, inspiring thoughts about my stage design project. I realize I should text Ye-jun to set up a meeting time.

    I reach for my phone and search for his contact. With a limited number of contacts, it doesn''t take long to find his name. As I hover my thumb over the phone screen, I feel nervous. I''m unsure why I am experiencing this anxiety, as I have texted people before. Perhaps it''s because I have never collaborated with someone one-on-one, only in group settings.

    I began texting Ye-jun:

    ¡°Hey Ye-jun! It¡¯s me Erne¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ye-jun! Hi it¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s me Erne¡ª¡±

    I pause, feeling flustered. Why am I having trouble with this? I take a deep breath and remind myself, "Relax, Ernest. Just send the text.

    ¡°Hi Ye-Jun, please let me know your schedule so we can plan the stage design. Thanks, Ernest.¡±

    Okay, that''s good enough. I need to send this message or I''ll be late for class. I hit the send button and put my phone down, getting ready to head out the door.

    I head to campus, leaving my apartment shared with a few classmates. As I walk to class, I reflect on my college experience so far, in my third year. I''ve had many opportunities to showcase my artwork, which some professors describe as emotionalism. I never thought to categorize my art before, but now I''m learning and growing.

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    Lost in thought, I hear my name being called. I scan the crowd but don''t see anyone I know. Then, I spot a hand waving above the heads. It''s Ye-jun! I wave back, trying to remain inconspicuous. Ye-jun rushes over to me, and I feel awkward as I stand still.

    "Hey! I''m glad I saw you!" Ye-jun greets me with enthusiasm, he seems like he¡¯s always in a good mood.

    "Oh, really?"

    "Yeah, I mean you didn''t text me back."

    "Oh, uh, right! I-I''m sorry. I don''t really check my phone once I''m on campus." I realize how stupid this probably sounds to Ye-jun.

    "No problem. So, does Sunday work for you for getting together?"

    "Yes, that works for me. Do you have any ideas for the stage design?"

    "You''re the creative one, so I''ll leave it up to you. I''ll take care of typing up the paper." I can''t help but smile, feeling both surprised and pleased that he''s entrusting me with the drawings. "Oh, uh, are you sure?" I ask, still trying to wrap my head around the idea.

    "Of course, man!" Ye-jun responds, cool and confident.

    "Well, anyways I better get going to class. If I don''t see you before, I''ll see you on Sunday."

    "Oh, right! I''ll see you Sunday, Ye-jun!"

    "Sounds good, see you then."

    After parting ways with Ye-jun, I can''t help but feel elated and wear a smile for the rest of the day. As I continue with my school day, I start jotting down ideas and sketching different stage designs that I think Ye-jun might like. Ye-jun must be used to people admiring him, as he holds himself with such cool confidence. While I know I could never match that level of poise, just from my two interactions with him, I feel more self-assured and confident. While I still feel a bit nervous, I appreciate that he is giving me complete control over the main part of the project. This level of trust only adds to my excitement for what is sure to be a memorable project this semester

 Chapter 5: A Late Start

    Why are the curtains open? I probably forgot to close them last night while drunk and now, with a pounding headache, I regret it. I need to stop doing this to myself. I''ve gone out drinking every night this week, but I''ve lost track of the days.

    I refuse to move my body for fear that the nauseating feeling will return and I''ll end up running to the bathroom. As I reach for my phone on the nightstand without making any sudden movements, I feel the slight sensation of vomit creeping up my throat. I try to hold it back, but I catch myself getting up, not caring how I feel, and run to the bathroom.

    After finishing my dry heaving activities, I finally check my phone. Looking down, I see a text from Ernest, "No rush, I''ll be waiting at Think Coffee on Mercer Street." Shit! It''s almost 1:30 PM! I was supposed to meet Ernest at 12:30 PM!

    As quickly as I can, I jump into the shower and wash myself off, brush my teeth, and put on as comfortable clothes as I can since I still feel like shit. I can''t believe I overslept so much! God, I hope he''s still there.

    I rush out the door, grab my backpack, and walk as fast as I can to the coffee shop. I feel so terrible. He probably thinks I''m an asshole who just thinks they can show up whenever, or worse, that I stood him up.

    The walk to the coffee shop is approximately 10 minutes from my apartment, but I manage to arrive in just 6 minutes. Before entering the building, I take a moment to compose myself, not wanting Ernest or anyone else to know that I rushed here. I open the door and scan the room for Ernest, but I don''t see him. I start to feel nervous, wondering if he has left. I wouldn''t blame him if he has, given that I was the one who was late.

    The coffee shop is a bit crowded, but there are still a few open tables available. I make my way to the back of the room, hoping to find Ernest. Just as I begin to feel defeated, I spot someone with a hoodie and a gray backpack at a table. Not wanting to startle the person if it isn''t Ernest, I casually walk past the table to get a better look.

    "Ernest?" The person under the hoodie shyly looks up, and I breathe a sigh of relief to see that it is indeed Ernest.

    "Oh, Ye-jun! Hi!" Ernest''s serious expression transforms into a happy one as soon as our eyes meet.

    "I''m so sorry!" I say, pulling up a chair and sitting down. I start to explain my lateness to Ernest, "I went out last night and probably had too much to drink. It was a stupid mistake and I shouldn''t have done it."

    "No, it''s okay. You have a life outside of school and I understand. Sorry, I probably should have picked a different day to meet."

    "Don''t apologize for my mistakes," I reply. "I just have a problem with saying no. I''m really sorry."

    "It''s really okay, Ye-jun. You don''t have to apologize," Ernest says with a compassionate smile. I think to myself, "He''s really understanding. Most people would have left or told me off."

    Ernest continues, "So, I jotted down a few ideas for the stage design. I hope you don''t mind. I wasn''t sure what our theme would be, so I came up with a few different options." Ernest reaches over and takes out a tube case, pulling out large canvas papers.

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    I am so absorbed in Ernest''s paintings that I can''t help but interrupt him. "How long did this take you?" I ask in amazement, still trying to process the beauty of the images.

    "Oh, umm, let me think... I think it was Thursday when you gave me creative control," Ernest says modestly. I, on the other hand, am shocked, "You drew all of these in less than three days?"

    Ernest chuckles, "Yeah, I guess so..."

    "Ernest," I say, flipping through each painting and staring at them in awe, "You have a talent! Not only did you paint these quickly, but they are also amazing!"

    "Do you really think so?" Ernest asks, a hint of excitement in his voice.

    "Definitely!" I exclaim, still looking at the paintings in amazement. "We''re going to ace this project, and we might even finish it before the deadline." Ernest''s enthusiasm is contagious, and I can''t help but feel drawn to it. My ears start to feel warm, and I try to hide it by putting my hand over one of them. I shake the strange feeling off, wondering if it''s just admiration for Ernest''s talent. I push the thoughts away and focus on the task at hand. "So, what do you think the theme should be? We have so many great options to choose from."

    "Hmmm," Ernest begins, examining his work again. "It really depends on the type of music that will be played. I listen to music, but I don''t have a clear idea of what to choose from. What do you think?¡±

    "Well, since these are only paintings and special effects and animations will be mostly used, we have to pick a theme that resonates with the lyrics and the group. If we''re going for an upbeat, pop music vibe, then I would choose brighter colors. However, if we want something darker, it would probably be better suited for an indie or alternative concert." As I explain this, I notice Ernest looking at me with interest. "Are you okay?"

    "Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking that you must have a lot of experience with this. I''ve never been to a concert, so I don''t really know what to expect."

    I am surprised, "You''ve never been to a concert?"

    "Uh, no. It''s kind of embarrassing. I went to my little sister''s talent show in 5th grade, but I don''t think that counts," Ernest says with a chuckle.

    I can''t help but laugh, "Jesus, Ernest! You''re too funny! Are you serious?"

    Ernest awkwardly laughs, "Uh, yeah..."

    "Okay, since I know we''ll be able to finish this project efficiently, we can''t pick a theme until you''ve attended a concert. That''s our task for this week."

    "What do you mean?" Ernest asks, sounding puzzled and worried.

    "I mean, you and I are going to go to a concert. Either today or this week. It can be any type of music. You need to gain a better understanding of the concert experience before we make any decisions about the stage design."

    "Whoa, hold on, what?"

    "Ernest, if you''ve never been to a concert, how are we supposed to choose a theme for the stage design?"

    With a hint of nervousness in his voice, Ernest asks, "Can''t I just watch concerts online?"

    "Yes, you can, but it''s not the same experience."

    I can tell Ernest isn''t fond of this idea, but I believe he needs to step out of his comfort zone. So, I calmly tell him, ¡°I¡¯ll be there with you, and it¡¯ll just be the two of us. I won¡¯t leave you behind or be late.¡± I give him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his discomfort.

    After a minute or so, Ernest finally speaks up, ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll go.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I try to keep my excitement in check.

    ¡°Yes, but with one condition,¡± Ernest replies.

    ¡°And what might that be?¡± I ask.

    ¡°I get to choose the concert,¡± Ernest says firmly.

 Chapter 6: Unexpected Feelings

    It''s Friday night and for once I''m not going out with Don. The week has felt like it''s dragging on forever, but maybe that''s because I''ve been looking forward to tonight. Last Sunday, Ernest agreed to go to a concert with me and I''ve been so excited ever since. I haven''t been to a concert in a while, and besides playing my own music, I''ve kind of lost my motivation for playing. So, maybe after tonight''s show, I might find some inspiration, and hopefully, Ernest will too for the stage design.

    I was a bit worried when Ernest wanted to pick the concert, thinking he might choose some weird psychedelic music, but surprisingly, he chose a folk-indie group called Airship Street. I''ve never heard of them, but I listened to some of their music earlier this week and they seem okay. I''m sure the show will be a good time.

    Once I''m done getting ready, I grab my phone and call Ernest, probably easier than texting him.

    "Hey Ernest! I just finished getting ready."

    "Oh, cool, uh, yeah I think I''m ready." I can tell even over the phone that he''s nervous.

    "You okay?"

    "Uh, yeah, I''m fine. I''ll meet you there at the venue?"

    "Yeah, it''ll take me about 20 minutes to get there so I''ll see you then."

    "Okay, uh, see you then." I think to myself that he really needs to get out more.

    While on the subway, I suddenly feel my phone vibrating. It''s Don calling. Damn it. He''s probably just going to want to go out and drink a bunch. I hesitate answering the phone, but wait long enough to let it go to voicemail. I don''t know why I feel bad, I shouldn''t. I usually answer his calls, but tonight I just want to relax and have a good time with Ernest.

    I get off at the stop I need to and walk for another 4 minutes to arrive at the venue. There are a few people hanging outside, but I don''t see Ernest. I wait with my hands in my jacket pockets, trying to stay warm.

    It''s been 5 minutes. Where is he? I start to feel anxious. What if he chickens out? I try to reassure myself, but it doesn''t help. I pace back and forth, getting more nervous, when suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I quickly turn around and see Ernest standing there. ¡°Jesus Ernest, you scared me!¡±

    He looks different, maybe it''s his hair? Or his outfit? He''s wearing a black puffer jacket with a gray hoodie, black cuffed jeans, and black slip-on vans. He looks really good.

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    ¡°Sorry, I didn''t mean to. You looked busy, so I didn''t want to interrupt,¡± he says.

    I chuckle. ¡°I was just waiting for you, man. Come on, let''s go in. I''m freezing out here!¡±

    We make our way into the venue smoothly. I''m tempted to head to the bar, but I resist the urge. I want to actually remember tonight, so I resist getting drunk. Since we have general admission tickets, I ask Ernest if he wants to stand at the balcony or near the stage. When he doesn''t answer, I turn to look at him and find him absorbed in the beauty of the place. I can''t help but smile at how he looks like a little kid again.

    I nudge him gently to get his attention.

    "Oh, yeah?" Ernest responds.

    "I don''t want to disturb you," I tease him playfully, "But do you want to be in the balcony or closer to the stage?"

    "Oh, sorry!" Ernest laughs, realizing why I''m teasing him. "This place is so pretty! But, uh, maybe the balcony for now, if that''s okay?"

    "Of course, it''s totally fine," I say. "We can still have a good view of the stage from there."

    We take our seats on the balcony, and I let Ernest sit closer to the stage since he''s the one who really wants to take it all in. I''m just here for the music. We get comfortable and wait for the show to start. The atmosphere between us is calm and content. I observe Ernest as he takes in all the sights and sounds, and I simply enjoy watching him.

    Finally, Ernest turns to me, "Have you been to this venue before?"

    "No, I don''t think so," I reply. "I''ve been to a few places in this area, but not this one."

    "Do you like it?" he asks.

    "Yeah, it''s pretty cool," I say, "And the crowd seems relaxed, which is nice."

    "Mmm, yeah," Ernest agrees.

    We fall into a comfortable silence again, waiting for the show to start. Even though there''s silence between Ernest and I, I can''t help but wonder about what he might be thinking. He''s very reserved and doesn''t open up much about himself. I guess I could say the same about myself, but maybe it''s just because I''m used to being around self-centered people. He''s intriguing and captures my attention.

    Suddenly, the lights dim and the crowd erupts in cheers as they all stand up from their seats. I follow suit and stand up, with Ernest doing the same. The music starts with a light beat of drums, accompanied by a folksy guitar and a female voice singing along to the rhythm.

    I listen to the music, noticing that Ernest is swaying to the rhythm. I can tell he''s really into it, and the sight brings a smile to my face. But then, strange thoughts start creeping into my mind. I have an urge to hold him and protect him. I try to shake these thoughts away, but every time I look at Ernest, my heart starts racing. I haven''t had anything to drink, so why am I feeling like this? Maybe it''s just the excitement of the concert. Suddenly, Ernest turns to me and leans in, shouting over the music, "I HAVEN¡¯T HAD THIS MUCH FUN IN A LONG TIME!" I tilt my head to look at his face and see him mouthing "Thank you."

    I nod, trying to play it cool, but I feel my ears getting warm and my heart rate increasing. What''s going on with me?

 Chapter 7: The Concert Challenge

    I grab my phone to check the time while I still lie in bed, ah, waking up before my alarm goes off and not feeling tired is a nice feeling. I slowly drag myself out of bed as the room is freezing. My roommate keeps turning off the heater because he wants to save energy, but it''s 40 degrees outside!

    I walk into the living room and turn on the heater. I don''t think he''s home, so I''ll just have to remember to turn it off later. I make myself some cereal and scroll through my phone as I eat it. After I finish, I jump into the shower and start getting ready for the day. I get excited thinking about what Ye-Jun and I might talk about and how the stage design project will go.

    As I finish getting ready, I check the time. It''s close to 12 PM now, so I should probably head out soon. As I grab my paintings and backpack, I realize that Ye-Jun and I never decided on a meeting spot. I start thinking about a good place to meet that doesn''t have too many people. Hmm, oh wait, there''s that coffee shop on Mercer Street. It''s nice and spacious and even though it can get a little crowded, there are always tables available. I decide to text Ye-Jun, "No rush, I''ll be waiting at Think Coffee on Mercer Street." I send the message before I start overthinking and end up changing it a thousand times. I put my phone away, turn off the heater, and head off.

    It takes me about 15 minutes to get to the coffee shop from my place. I order myself some tea and head towards the back where there doesn''t seem to be too many people seated. I don''t see Ye-Jun, so I start working on some other homework while I wait for him.

    As more people come and go, I begin to wonder where he might be. I check my phone and it''s almost 1 PM. Should I call him? No, I don''t want to bother him if he''s busy with something else. Maybe he did come in and I didn''t see him? These thoughts run through my mind and I start to get worried. Oh god, what if he got mugged? No, no. That wouldn''t happen. Ye-Jun is scary looking, so I''m sure no one would do that to him.

    I start getting anxious. Maybe he stood me up? I guess it wouldn''t be the first time someone has done that to me. But I don''t know, I don''t see Ye-Jun being the type to do that to someone. He seems really nice, so that would be strange. I check my phone again and it''s almost 1:30 now. I put on my hood, which I usually only do when I start to feel insecure. I don''t know why, it''s just a nervous tick I have.

    It''s been an hour, so maybe I should pack my things and head back to my place. As I start grabbing my stuff, I see a taller figure walk slightly past my table, but I don''t make eye contact. As I have my head down, I suddenly hear, "Ernest?" I slightly look up, and there''s Ye-jun looking really out of it.

    "Oh, Ye-jun! Hi!" He made it! Wow, and here I thought he wasn''t going to show up, which brings a smile to my face.

    Ye-jun pulls up a chair and starts apologizing and explaining why he was late. I don''t mind, as long as he showed up, that''s what matters to me.

    "No, it''s okay. You have a life outside of school and I understand. Sorry, I probably should have picked a different day to meet." I want him to know that he doesn''t need to apologize and that it''s fine.

    "Don''t apologize for my mistakes," Ye-jun says. "I just have a problem with saying no. I''m really sorry."

    "It''s really okay, Ye-jun. You don''t have to apologize." I don''t want him to feel bad as he seems to be really hard on himself over this.

    So I change the subject since I don''t want to take up too much of his time, and I grab my tube case and start pulling out the paintings. "So, I jotted down a few ideas for the stage design. I hope you don''t mind. I wasn''t sure what our theme would be, so I came up with a few different options." I start handing the pictures over to Ye-jun and I see him skimming through each one intently. Hopefully, he likes them.

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    While I watch him go through the pictures, I start explaining each one to him when suddenly he interrupts me, ''How long did this take you?''

    "Oh, umm, let me think... I think it was Thursday when you gave me creative control," I answer.

    ¡°You drew all of these in less than three days?¡± Ye-jun asks, seemingly surprised.

    This makes me chuckle a little, ¡°Yeah, I guess so¡­¡±

    ¡°Ernest, you have a talent! Not only did you paint these quickly, but they are also amazing!¡± Ye-jun exclaims.

    I''m surprised and ask, ¡°Do you really think so?¡±

    Ye-jun says with excitement in his voice, ¡°Definitely! We''re going to ace this project, and we might even finish it before the deadline.¡± I can''t help but feel even more excited to be working with Ye-jun. He has such conviction in making people feel good about themselves, and I can''t help but smile.

    In a more serious tone, Ye-jun continues, ¡°So, what do you think the theme should be? We have so many great options to choose from.¡±

    I think for a moment, ¡°It really depends on the type of music that will be played. I listen to music, but I don''t have a clear idea of what to choose from. What do you think?¡± I admit that I¡¯m not knowledgeable about concerts or performances, and I only like paintings because they don''t talk.

    Ye-jun nods understandingly, ¡°Well, since these are only paintings and special effects and animations will be mostly used, we have to pick a theme that resonates with the lyrics and the group. If we¡ª¡± As Ye-jun speaks, I can''t help but stare at him in awe. He''s so cool and knowledgeable about this stuff. I would be lost without him as my partner in this project. Suddenly, Ye-jun interrupts my train of thought, ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    "Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking that you must have a lot of experience with this. I''ve never been to a concert, so I don''t really know what to expect."

    "You''ve never been to a concert?" Ye-jun asks with a tone of surprise.

    "Uh, no. It''s kind of embarrassing," I reply, feeling my cheeks warm. "I went to my little sister''s talent show in 5th grade, but I don''t think that counts."

    "Jesus, Ernest," Ye-jun starts laughing out loud. "You''re too funny! Are you serious?"

    "Uh, yeah," I reply, feeling a bit self-conscious.

    "Okay, since I know we''ll be able to finish this project efficiently, we can''t pick a theme until you''ve attended a concert," Ye-jun declares. "That''s our task for this week."

    ¡°What do you mean?" I ask, feeling confused.

    "I mean, you and I are going to a concert. Either today or this week," Ye-jun explains. "It can be any type of music. You need to gain a better understanding of the concert experience before we make any decisions about the stage design."

    "Whoa, hold on, what?" I reply, feeling my palms getting shaky. I can''t go to a concert. There are too many people and the noise... Oh god, it sounds awful.

    "Ernest, if you''ve never been to a concert, how are we supposed to choose a theme for the stage design?"

    "Can''t I just watch concerts online?"

    "Yes, you can, but it''s not the same experience."

    I lower my head, considering all the potential challenges this situation presents. Being surrounded by so many people makes me uncomfortable. I don''t want to feel out of my comfort zone.

    Suddenly, Ye-jun speaks up in a calming voice, ¡°I¡¯ll be there with you, and it¡¯ll just be the two of us. I won¡¯t leave you behind or be late.¡±

    Ye-jun has a worried yet reassuring smile on his face, which somehow manages to calm me down. Since Ye-jun thinks it''s necessary, I agree to go to the concert, but only if I get to choose.

    "Okay, I''ll go," I reply.

    "Really?" Ye-jun says with excitement in his voice.

    "Yes, but with one condition," I add.

    "And what might that be?" Ye-jun asks.

    "I get to choose the concert," I say.

 Chapter 8: Fields of Gold

    I take a long look at myself in the mirror and say, "Come on, you got this. Don''t stress. Ye-jun said he''ll be there and make sure nothing happens." I try to reassure myself, but the anxiety is getting to me. I''ve always struggled with being in large crowds of people, and tonight is one of those times. I agreed to go, but I''m still nervous.

    I ended up finding a group called Airship Street that sounds good and calming, hoping that the people there won''t get too drunk or rough. Ye-jun is right, the only way I can get a better understanding of this project is to go to a concert and experience it all in person.

    I put on my hoodie and puffer jacket, and while I''m doing that, my phone suddenly starts ringing. It''s Ye-jun calling, "Hey Ernest! I just finished getting ready."

    "Oh, cool, uh, yeah I think I''m ready," I say, trying not to sound nervous.

    "You okay?" Ye-jun asks, and I realize he can hear it in my tone of voice.

    "Uh, yeah, I''m fine. I''ll meet you there at the venue?"

    "Yeah, it''ll take me about 20 minutes to get there so I''ll see you then."

    "Okay, uh, see you then."

    After getting off the phone with Ye-jun, I grab my wallet and check that I have everything. I turn off the lights, lock the front door, and head out. I walk to the nearest bus stop and as I approach, I see the bus take off. Damn it, now I have to wait for the next one. I loiter around the bus stop, pacing and trying to keep myself calm. I don''t even care about the freezing weather. I wish now I hadn''t taken this stage design class.

    I wait for another 7 minutes or so until the next bus arrives. I hop on and end up standing the entire time as the bus is so full. I wonder if all these people are going to the concert? No, they couldn''t be... at least I hope not.

    I finally arrive at my stop and step off the bus. To my surprise, only two other people got off with me. I guess I''m overthinking this. The venue is only about four minutes away, but I take my time, even though I feel guilty for making Ye-jun wait. I''m sure he''s already wondering where I am.

    I approach the venue and don''t see many people outside of it. Just a few people are waiting around or smoking cigarettes. A bit past the small crowds, I spot Ye-jun. From afar, he looks like a model. He''s walking back and forth slowly, staring down at his feet. Trying not to scare him, I approach him slowly and tap him on the shoulder. He quickly turns his head in defense mode, ¡°Jesus Ernest, you scared me!¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I didn''t mean to. You looked busy, so I didn''t want to interrupt,¡± I try to explain to Ye-jun.

    He laughs and says, ¡°I was just waiting for you, man. Come on, let''s go in. I''m freezing out here!¡±

    We go through the metal detector and get our tickets scanned to enter the venue. As soon as we walk in, I am amazed at the architecture of the building, and the walls have an old-fashioned yet modern touch to them. I am not even paying attention to where I am walking when Ye-jun nudges me, and I snap out of my daze.

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    "Oh, yeah?" I respond.

    Ye-jun has an amusing look on his face, "I don''t want to disturb you, but do you want to be in the balcony or closer to the stage?"

    "Oh, sorry! This place is so beautiful! But, uh, maybe the balcony for now, if that''s okay?"

    "Of course, it''s totally fine," Ye-jun says. "We can still have a good view of the stage from there."

    We make our way up the stairs and head towards the front of the balcony where we see two empty seats open and not too close to other people. Ye-jun lets me sit in the seat that''s closer to the stage. As I take a look around, I notice the place isn''t too crowded but there''s still a decent amount of people here. I look over at Ye-jun and ask, "Have you been to this venue before?"

    "No, I don''t think so. I''ve been to a few places in this area, but not this one."

    "Do you like it?"

    "Yeah, it''s pretty cool, and the crowd seems relaxed, which is nice."

    "Mmm, yeah," I agree with Ye-jun. The place isn''t too crazy and so far I''m enjoying my time here. I hope Ye-jun is really having a good time. I''m sure he''s fine, but I still wish I could have let him pick the concert. Maybe if there''s a next time I''ll let him pick the concert.

    Suddenly, the place goes dark and everyone starts shouting. I start hearing what sounds like drums, followed by a guitar. Everything was happening so quickly as I was trying to make out what song might be playing. Then I heard a female singing:

    "I''m feeling alive, on this sunny day

    With the wind in my hair, and the world at play

    I''m walking down the street, with a smile so wide..."

    Ah, I think this was one of their more upbeat songs. I prefer the slower ones, but this is a good song to start the show. Everyone is singing along, and I can''t help but smile at the energy I feel in the room right now.

    The concert continues and the female singer has an amazing voice. There''s a hint of sadness, but she still has a smile on her face as she sings along with the fans. I look over at Ye-jun, who''s bobbing his head and looking at the stage. He makes eye contact with me, and a strobe light flashes across his face at that moment. Wow, I feel a bit weird for thinking this, but he looks so angelic.

    Not wanting him to think I''m being a weirdo and just staring at him, I lean in and shout in his ear, "I HAVEN¡¯T HAD THIS MUCH FUN IN A LONG TIME!" He leans back a bit and looks at my face, and I mouth the words "thank you" to him. In response, he does a quick head nod and smiles.

    The song is over and I look back at the stage. The female singer starts thanking everyone and her band and announces they''ll be playing their last song for the night. The crowd groans, including me. The guitar starts playing, and I instantly recognize it -- only because it''s the one song that stuck out to me the most. She begins to sing:

    "In the fields of gold, where the sun sets slow

    I met a boy, with eyes that shone like the snow

    He smiled at me, with a heart full of grace

    And I knew then, he was the one I wanted to chase¡­"

    I''m not sure why, but when listening to this song, Ye-jun pops into my head. It feels weird, and if I told him this, he would probably freak out, so I keep quiet and focus on the music until the end of the show.

 Chapter 9: Late Night Confessions

    Is it terrible that I''ve been avoiding Ernest since Friday night and it''s now Wednesday, and I haven''t responded to his texts about when we should plan our next meeting? I realize this is probably very immature on my part, but after the concert, I''ve just been feeling weird about being around him. It''s not him, it''s me. When the show was over, I made the excuse to Ernest that I had to wake up early the next day, which was a lie, of course. I couldn''t sleep that night and ended up staying in bed until late in the afternoon.

    I''ve been going out to the bar with Don every day this week, and I''m at the bar right now. As I think about Ernest and how I''ll eventually have to talk to him, I feel Don put his arm around my shoulder. Smelling the alcohol on his breath, he starts shouting slightly in my ear, "What''s wrong with you lately?"

    "Nothing," I respond.

    "That''s bullshit," Don says.

    "You''ve been moping around and it''s a real buzzkill," he adds.

    "I just have a lot on my mind," I reply.

    "Oh? Could it be a girl?" Don asks.

    "What?" I say, surprised.

    "Wait! Am I right?" Don persists.

    "Do you have a girl in your life?" he asks.

    I turn my back away from Don. "Ugh, why would it be a girl?" I think to myself. I don''t have the time for any kind of relationship, and I don''t even want one. All the girls at this university are uptight, and I''m sure I''m not appealing to them.

    Don turns the barstool around so that I face him. "If you have girl problems, I can help you," he says.

    "I told you, I don''t have girl problems," I respond, jokingly pushing his face away from mine.

    "Let me help you, Jun! You always act like you have everything together, but I know you''ve got some problems under that cold shell," Don says.

    I look up at Don, trying not to get mad at him because I know he''s drunk. I finish my drink and say, "I''m going home."

    "Wait, what? I was just kidding!" Don responds.

    "I have to wake up early tomorrow, so just text me when you get home," I say.

    "Jesus, fine, fine, Mom," Don says with a slight annoyance in his voice.

    I grab my coat and head outside, trying to shake off the chill from the cold night air. I reach for my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and check the time. Hmm, it''s only 9 PM. I wonder if Ernest is awake. Should I call him? But what if he thinks it''s weird? I really need to talk to him, but I don''t know how to act around him. I''m not even sure what''s going on with me.

    I stand outside the bar for a few minutes, staring at Ernest''s contact information, weighing the pros and cons of calling him. With hesitation, I press the call button and hold the phone to my ear, listening to it ring. I''m about to hang up before it goes to voicemail when suddenly, I hear a voice on the other end. It''s Ernest.

    "Hello?"

    "Oh, hey, Ernest!" I say, trying to sound casual.

    "Hi, Ye-jun," Ernest replies, sounding a little unsure.

    "Sorry for calling so late," I say, feeling like an idiot.

    "It''s okay. Are you okay?" Ernest asks, sounding concerned.

    "Yeah, I''m fine. Just wanted to check in, I guess," I reply, trying to think of a better reason for my call.

    "So, what are you up to right now?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

    "Just at home," Ernest says, still sounding a little hesitant.

    "Do you want to hang out?" I blurt out before I can think better of it.

    "Uh, right now?" Ernest asks, sounding surprised.

    "Yeah, I was thinking we could grab something to eat if you''re hungry," I suggest, hoping he''ll say yes.

    "Okay, I guess we can do that," Ernest agrees, and my heart leaps with excitement.

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    "Really? Great! Do you know the Waverly Diner? They''re open 24/7," I say, trying to sound cool and collected.

    "I''m not sure, but I can meet you there," Ernest says.

    "Perfect. I''m already out, so I''ll be there in about 6 minutes. I''ll grab us a table," I say, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

    "Okay, I''ll probably be there in 15 minutes," Ernest says, sounding a little more confident.

    "Cool, I''ll see you soon," I say, ending the call and feeling a rush of adrenaline.

    I head to the restaurant ahead of Ernest to secure us a table. When I arrive, the restaurant is not crowded, and only a few other people are scattered around talking amongst themselves. I tell the waiter I need a table for two and she seats me at a booth near the middle of the restaurant by a window.

    I sit and try to gather my thoughts, but I''m not even hungry. I know I should eat something since I''ve been drinking, but I don''t want Ernest to think that I was drunk when I called him. This is a strange thought as I don''t think I''ve ever drunk dialed anyone before.

    After a few more minutes, I hear the bell from the front door ring and I look up to see Ernest standing there awkwardly. I smile to myself and wave him over.

    Ernest makes his way over to the booth and slides into the seat across from me. I smile at him and he returns it, though it seems a little forced. We both look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say.

    Finally, I break the silence. "So, uh, have you been here before?" I ask, trying to make small talk.

    "No, this is my first time," Ernest replies, looking around the restaurant. "It''s nice, not too crowded."

    The waiter comes over and takes our orders, and as she leaves, I try to think of something else to talk about. "So, how''s your day been?"

    "Oh, uh, it''s been fine. Just school and then I went home."

    "Oh, that''s cool. Do you live close by? I mean, close to the school?" My attempt at making small talk is terrible.

    "Hmmm, yeah, it''s about a 10-minute walk. Uh, what about you?" Ernest asks with some nervousness in his voice.

    "Yeah, I live at the Heritage Apartments."

    "Oh, wow, those places are pretty nice, right?"

    "I guess so. My parents picked them out when I moved here."

    "Where are you originally from?"

    "Korea."

    "Oh! Really? Sorry, I don''t mean to sound so surprised, but your English is very good."

    I chuckle at this, "No, it''s okay. My parents paid a lot of money for me to get a good education, so here we are."

    "Hmm, it sounds like you didn''t like the education."

    "Well, I mean, I appreciate the education and opportunities it has given me, but it was definitely not my choice. My parents had a very specific plan for my life and I just had to go along with it."

    "I see, that doesn''t seem fair to you," Ernest says.

    "Well, if you had Korean parents, then perhaps that would be the case for you," I try not to sound irritable.

    "I''m sorry. You''re right, I wouldn''t understand," Ernest says, lowering his head. Dammit, I didn''t mean to sound like an asshole to him.

    "No, sorry. I wasn''t trying to be defensive. I guess I just don''t talk about this kind of stuff with others often..." I trail off, feeling a bit insecure that I might have made him feel uncomfortable.

    I''m looking down at my hands, fiddling with them, unsure of what to say to Ernest. Suddenly, he reaches out and places his hand on mine. "It''s okay, I''m here if you need to talk about this kind of thing," he says. I look up, surprised by the physical contact. Ernest has a warm smile and his hands are soft with a few paint colors on his skin. I chuckle, thinking he''s a typical artist. Ernest notices and looks confused.

    "Sorry, Ernest, I''m not laughing at you. I just noticed the paint on your hands."

    Ernest takes his hand away, looking bashful. "I tried washing it off, but it''s a new paint set I bought."

    "You''re a true artist, aren''t you?" I give him a wide smile.

    Ernest mimics my smile, and we both burst into laughter. It''s the first time I''ve heard him laugh, and his unrestrained laughter is infectious.

    "Your laugh is adorable!" I exclaim.

    "Stop! You''re going to make me laugh more," says Ernest, his eyes watering.

    "What? I think it''s adorable, and your laugh is making me laugh more!"

    "We probably look like maniacs right now!"

    "And I''m totally okay with that," I reply, laughing.

    After calming down a bit from my laughing rage, I take a deep breath, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders. It''s been a long time since I''ve been able to open up to someone like this, and Ernest''s kind and understanding demeanor makes it easy.

    "Thank you for listening, Ernest. I really appreciate it," I say.

    "Of course, anytime," he replies, giving me a soft smile.

    We sit in silence for a few moments, both lost in our own thoughts. It''s a comfortable silence, and I find myself feeling grateful for Ernest''s presence.

    "Hey, I was thinking...would you maybe want to come to an art exhibit with me next week?" Ernest asks, breaking the silence.

    "An art exhibit?" I repeat, surprised. "I''m not much of an art person, but I''d be down to go."

    Ernest''s face lights up. "Great! I think you''ll really enjoy it. There''s this one piece I''ve been dying to show someone. It''s really incredible."

    "Well, if you say it''s that amazing, then I definitely need to see this painting," I say.

    "I''m sure you''ll appreciate it," Ernest says in an innocent tone.

    We spend the rest of the late night dinner talking and laughing, and I feel my spirits lifted by Ernest''s company. I can''t help but feel excited for our upcoming art exhibit adventure, and start wondering what I should wear for our next meeting.

 Chapter 10: Snowfall and Heartbeats

    As soon as class is over, I start putting all my stuff away in my backpack and rush out of class as quickly as I can. I don''t want to be stopped by anyone or anything holding me back because today is the day Ernest and I are hanging out. His class ended earlier than mine, so he told me he would just meet me at the gallery. Luckily, it''s not too far from the university, and I can just walk there without having to get on the bus or subway.

    I start heading off-campus when I hear my name being called. Shit, it''s Don. I can''t ignore him. I turn around and see him jogging over to me. I try not to look impatient, but I''m in a rush.

    "Ye-jun! Where are you running off to, bro?"

    "Just going home," I say, not knowing why I feel the need to lie to him.

    "Well, do you have plans for tonight?" Don says, hinting at us hanging out.

    "Umm, no, but I think I was just going to stay in tonight."

    "What?" Don says, surprised.

    "What?" I respond to him with a slight annoyance in my tone.

    Don looks at me with confusion. "But it''s Friday night! Why are you staying in? Let''s do something!"

    I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to ruin my plans with Ernest. "I don''t know, Don. I was just planning on having a quiet night."

    Don gives me a pleading look. "Come on, man. We haven''t hung out in a while. Let''s grab some drinks."

    I feel torn between my loyalty to Ernest and my friendship with Don. "I don''t know if I can tonight, Don. I already made plans with someone else."

    Don raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Who?"

    I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I want to tell him. But then I decide it''s better to be honest. "Ernest. We''re going to an art exhibit tonight."

    Don looks surprised. "Ernest? You mean the quiet guy you''re partnered with?"

    I nod. "Yeah, we''ve been hanging out more lately.¡±

    Don looks at me, almost as if he''s trying to read my mind, and responds, "I see. I didn''t think you guys were that close."

    "Well, we have to work on a project together, so yeah, we kind of have to spend some time together," I explain.

    "Well, I guess I won''t keep you, but if you guys are so close, then maybe the three of us should hang out," Don says in a way that sounds like he''s trying to push for something.

    "I mean, yeah, I guess I could plan something," I say with some hesitation in my voice.

    "Well, I won''t keep you then," Don says, sounding a bit defeated, but I know he''ll get over it.

    With that, we say our goodbyes and I continue on my way to meet Ernest at the art exhibit. I feel relieved that Don didn''t push the issue further and happy that I can still make it to the art exhibit on time. I quicken my pace and soon find myself outside the gallery. As I enter, I spot Ernest looking at a painting with rapt attention. As he stares at the painting, he almost looks like a different person. He''s so engrossed in the painting, and seeing him like this makes my heart beat faster. He looks up and sees me, a smile spreading across his face.

    "Hey, Ye-jun! You made it!" Ernest says, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

    "Yeah, sorry I''m a bit late. I ran into someone on my way here," I explain.

    Ernest nods understandingly. "No worries. I''m just glad you''re here now. Come on, let me show you my favorite piece in the exhibit." Ernest takes hold of my wrist, walking me as though he was a little kid, trying to show their parents some crazy thing they built. I don''t even try to wiggle my way out of his hold. If anything, I don''t even feel embarrassed, and I don''t think Ernest notices he''s holding onto me. I feel my ears getting hot, but I want him to keep holding onto me.

    We go in and out of narrow white hallways, passing by all sorts of colorful pieces. Then, with a sudden halt, we stop in front of a large painting of a woman.

    "I love this piece," Ernest says, his eyes glued to the painting. I stare at the painting, trying to understand why he loves it. All I see is a woman staring at something or maybe someone, with a floral backdrop. She doesn''t look sad or mad, and no emotion is really shown on her face.

    "Why is this your favorite painting here?" I ask, curious about what he sees in it.

    Ernest turns to me, a smile on his face. "I just think it''s so beautiful. The way the colors all blend together, and the way the woman is looking off into the distance, it''s like she''s contemplating something. Plus, I just love how the flowers in the background give the painting a really dreamy, ethereal feel."

    "Hmmm, that''s actually a very simple response," I say, somewhat surprised.

    Ernest looks at me with an inquisitive look. "What do you mean?"

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    "I mean, I was expecting some crazy abstract answer from you, kind of like how they portray artists in the movies," I say, hoping that my response doesn''t offend him.

    Ernest laughs quietly. "Oh, yeah, I don''t have any crazy theories about this painting. Maybe some of them, but I just like this one a lot."

    I take another look at the painting. It''s very nice, and I can see why Ernest likes it so much. I wish I had the same emotional response to anything like Ernest does with paintings. Suddenly, Ernest shakes my wrist a bit. I didn''t even notice he was still holding onto it.

    "Are you okay, Ye-jun?" Ernest asks, his brow furrowed with concern.

    "Uh, yeah, sorry," I reply.

    "You don''t seem okay; your face says otherwise.¡± I must have been making a face when I was thinking about having an emotional response.

    "Uh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about you... Oh, sorry, I didn''t mean it like that. I was just thinking about how cool it is that you have such a passion for this," I continue, realizing that I was stumbling over my words.

    Ernest''s cheeks turned red instantly. "Oh!" he exclaimed, looking down for a second. "Sorry, I didn''t mean to react like that," Ernest awkwardly laughs.

    "It''s okay," I reply, smiling. "I was just lost in thought for a moment, that''s all."

    "Well, I''m sure there''s something you have a passion for, or at least something you did have a passion for," Ernest says, giving me a reassuring smile. I start thinking about music and how much I used to love playing the guitar.

    "I used to like playing the guitar," I say shyly.

    "Really?" Ernest''s eyes widen with excitement.

    Ernest''s eyes light up as he says, "That''s so cool! What kind of music did you like to play?"

    I feel a spark of excitement as we start talking about music, my shyness melting away as I share my favorite artists and songs. Ernest listens intently, nodding and asking questions as we walk through the gallery.

    As we continue walking around, discussing our hobbies and admiring more paintings, a security guard suddenly stops us: "I''m sorry, but the gallery is closing in about 10 minutes." We look at each other in surprise, realizing that time has flown by. We apologize to the guard and make our way outside.

    Standing there, we don''t say much to each other. I glance up at Ernest and notice his hair blowing in the wind, and his nose turning a beet red from the sudden drop in temperature.

    "Hey," I murmur, catching his attention. Ernest looks at me with his big, doe-like eyes. "Yeah?" he responds softly.

    "Would you like to take a walk for a little while?"

    "Sure."

    We start walking, our feet crunching on the pavement as we make our way down the empty street. It''s late and the city is alive with the sounds of cars passing by, distant chatter from bars and restaurants, and the soft glow of the street lights reflecting off the buildings.

    As we walk, I steal a glance at Ernest. I can''t help but notice how his eyes sparkle in the city lights, and how the tall skyscrapers tower above us, making us feel small yet important in this bustling metropolis. My heart flutters as I realize how much I''m enjoying our time together at this moment.

    We chat about everything and nothing, our conversation ranging from the iconic architecture to the lively nightlife. Ernest tells me about his family and how he''s not very close with them, but how he adores his little sister and would do just about anything for her. I can''t help but smile, seeing how much he cares for her. He asks me if I have any siblings and I tell him how I have a little brother who''s in high school back in Korea.

    "Are you close with your little brother?" Ernest asks.

    "Hmm, I used to be, but I think we''ve grown apart. Besides, my parents adore him," I trail off, thinking about how my brother must think I''m some sort of loser.

    "I''m sure your brother probably misses you," Ernest says in a kind tone. He probably noticed my sudden mood change when talking about my own family.

    I don''t respond, and we just continue to walk in silence. I begin thinking a lot about Ernest, wondering what he must have been like in high school, what kind of friends he has, what his family is like, and even about his first kiss. These thoughts race through my mind when I suddenly feel the brush of Ernest''s hand against mine. I don''t move my hand, and instead let it linger there. Why am I doing this? And did Ernest mean to do that? He doesn''t jolt his hand away. I can''t help but wonder if he''s feeling the same thing I am.

    We find ourselves in a small park, surrounded by towering buildings and the soft hum of the city at night. We sit down on a bench, not saying much to one another.

    "So, what are you thinking about?" I ask, hesitantly.

    "Umm, not much I guess, just thinking about stuff..." Ernest says timidly.

    "Did you have a good time today?" I speak up eagerly.

    Ernest turns on the bench to face me directly. "Oh, Ye-jun, I had a great time! I''m so happy you agreed to come out and show you some of the amazing paintings we saw!" Ernest''s smile is so wide that I can hardly tell if his eyes are open or not.

    I chuckle. "Well, I''m glad I came along. It was different, but I like hanging out with you." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret saying them. I curse myself internally, turning my face so he doesn''t notice my sudden change in expression.

    Ernest doesn''t seem to notice and speaks up in the same tone of voice as before. "That''s great, Ye-jun!"

    We sit there in silence for a while, taking in our surroundings. My heart is pounding like crazy and I feel anxious. I don''t know how to talk with Ernest, and I don''t know why. Suddenly, I look down at the ground and see a white speck, then another, and another.

    Ernest shouts, "It''s snowing!" He sits up from the bench and tries to catch the snowflakes in his mouth like a little kid.

    I can''t help but smile at the sight of him enjoying the snow. It''s a beautiful moment, and I feel a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence. The snow continues to fall, covering the ground in a blanket of white.

    We sit on the bench for a while longer, talking and laughing, enjoying the peacefulness of the snowfall. As we start to get cold, we stand up, and head through the snow-covered park. We walk in silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of the snow beneath our feet.

    As we reach the end of the park, Ernest turns to me and smiles. "Thanks for tonight, Ye-jun. It was really great."

    I smile back. "Yeah, it was. Thanks for showing me a good time."

    Ernest leans in and gives me a hug, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I jump a little, but then I return the hug, embracing his warmth and not wanting to let go. I feel his heart beating, and it''s calm, while I know mine is racing. As we part ways, I can''t help but feel a sense of longing for him. Maybe, just maybe, there''s something more here than just friendship.

 Chapter 11: The Art of Connection

    It''s been almost a week since I last saw Ye-jun, and he hasn''t responded to any of my texts. I don''t know what I did wrong, but I can''t help but feel like he''s been avoiding me. We had such a great time at the concert, and I was looking forward to our next hangout.

    I''ve been trying not to think about it too much and have been keeping busy with my artwork, but every time I look at my phone, I feel a sense of disappointment. I don''t want to seem clingy or needy, but I miss Ye-jun''s company.

    I go through the rest of my day, trying to shake off the feeling of disappointment that has been lingering since earlier. As I walk home, my mind wanders and wonders if Ye-jun still wants to be partners in our project. The cold doesn''t even register as I''m lost in thought.

    Upon entering my apartment, I see my roommate sitting on the couch eating what appears to be top ramen. He greets me with a simple "Hey," but doesn''t seem to register my presence as he''s still engrossed in whatever he''s watching on TV.

    I quickly pass by him, not in the mood for small talk, and head to my room. Lying down on my bed, I can''t help but feel uneasy. I hate feeling like this. It''s times like these that make me question why I even bother having friends. Being alone seems like a much simpler and less painful option.

    Not wanting to lie in bed and risk falling asleep, I decide to get up and start painting. Grabbing an empty canvas, I begin to paint without a clear destination in mind. Only using dark colors, reflecting my current feelings of loneliness.

    I lose track of time, and suddenly realize there is no more canvas left to paint on. I stand up from my stool and step back to observe the finished product. A painting of a desolate path with dimly lit street lamps and a heavy rainfall. It''s as if there''s no end in sight, mirroring my current state of mind.

    Taking a deep breath, I head to the bathroom to wash off the paint off my hands. "Damn, this is really hard to get off," I mutter to myself as I scrub my hands. Despite my efforts, the paint refuses to budge. I eventually give up and head back to my room, hearing a phone ringing in the hallway.

    As I approach, I realize that it''s my phone ringing. I rush to my bedroom and see that it''s Ye-jun calling. Without a second thought, I answer, "Hello?"

    "Oh, hey, Ernest!" Ye-jun sounds surprised on the other end.

    "Hi, Ye-jun.¡±

    "Sorry for calling so late," Ye-jun says.

    "It''s okay. Are you okay?" I ask.

    "Yeah, I''m fine. Just wanted to check in, I guess," Ye-jun replies and continues with, "So, what are you up to right now?"

    "Just at home," I reply.

    "Do you want to hang out?" Ye-jun asks, surprising me.

    "Uh, right now?" I ask, a little unsure.

    "Yeah, I was thinking we could grab something to eat if you''re hungry," Ye-jun suggests.

    "Okay, I guess we can do that," I agree, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.

    "Really? Great! Do you know the Waverly Diner? They''re open 24/7," Ye-jun says.

    "I''m not sure, but I can meet you there," I reply.

    "Perfect. I''m already out, so I''ll be there in about 6 minutes. I''ll grab us a table," Ye-jun says, sounding enthusiastic.

    "Okay, I''ll probably be there in 15 minutes," I say, feeling a sense of anticipation.

    "Cool, I''ll see you soon," Ye-jun says, and we hang up.

    I hang up the phone, feeling both nervous and excited. What just happened? I need to get ready quickly! Should I take a shower? No, I won¡¯t have time for that. I quickly change out of my lazy clothes and throw on a pair of jeans and a beige hoodie that I hardly ever wear. I rush into the bathroom and brush my teeth. My curls look frizzy, so I try spraying some leave-in conditioner in hopes that it will help maintain the curls. I take out some basic body spray and try not to spray too much. I take one last look in the mirror, "This is as good as it''s going to get," I tell myself with a sigh.

    I quickly head out of the apartment and make my way to the Waverly Diner. As I walk, I can''t help but feel apprehensive and eager at the same time. What does Ye-jun want to talk about? Did he have a change of heart about our project? Or maybe he just wants to hang out and catch up?

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    I arrive at the diner and spot Ye-jun sitting at a booth near the window. He''s dressed in a black hoodie and a black peacoat, appearing casual but still looking impeccably stylish. I see Ye-jun waving me over and approach the booth where he''s seated.

    Ye-jun''s smile puts me at ease and I return it, trying to appear calm. Despite my attempts to avoid eye contact, I can feel his gaze fixed on me, and I struggle to think of something to say.

    Finally, Ye-jun speaks up. "So, uh, have you been here before?"

    "No, this is my first time," I reply, looking around the restaurant. "It''s nice, not too crowded."

    The waiter comes over and takes our order. I''m not even that hungry, so I pick the first thing I see on the menu, which is cheese fries. After the waitress leaves, Ye-jun asks, "So, how''s your day been?"

    "Oh, uh, it''s been fine. Just school and then I went home."

    "Oh, that''s cool. Do you live close by? I mean, close to the school?" Ye-jun asks. We haven''t talked about this kind of stuff before.

    "Hmmm, yeah, it''s about a 10-minute walk. Uh, what about you?" I don''t want him to know where I live since it''s not the nicest place.

    "Yeah, I live at the Heritage Apartments." He lives in those apartments as a college student? He must be rich!

    "Oh, wow, those places are pretty nice, right?"

    "I guess so. My parents picked them out when I moved here." Ye-jun sounds kind of annoyed saying this.

    "Where are you originally from?" I know his name isn''t a typical English name, and he doesn''t normally talk about himself.

    "Korea."

    "Oh! Really? Sorry, I don''t mean to sound so surprised, but your English is very good."

    Ye-jun chuckles at this. "No, it''s okay. My parents paid a lot of money for me to get a good education, so here we are." Ye-jun looks out the window, looking disgruntled talking about this.

    "Hmm, it sounds like you didn''t like the education."

    "Well, I mean, I appreciate the education and opportunities it has given me, but it was definitely not my choice. My parents had a very specific plan for my life, and I just had to go along with it."

    "I see. That doesn''t seem fair to you," That''s kind of sad. I mean, I''m not very close with my parents, but they still allowed me to pick my major, so I can''t imagine how Ye-jun feels.

    "Well, if you had Korean parents, then perhaps that would be the case for you," Ye-jun is still looking out the window, and I can see a vein slightly forming on his neck. I should probably drop this. I don''t want him hating me.

    "I''m sorry. You''re right. I wouldn''t understand." I''ve never been put in that kind of situation, and I can tell this seems to upset Ye-jun.

    Ye-jun quickly looks over at me. "No, sorry. I wasn''t trying to be defensive. I guess I just don''t talk about this kind of stuff with others often..."

    Ye-jun is hanging his head, staring at his hands. I can tell he genuinely feels bad, which in turn makes me feel sympathetic for him. It''s not so much pity, but it makes me think that even popular and attractive people have their problems too. Without much thought, I reach out and place my hand on top of his. "It''s okay, I''m here if you need to talk about this kind of thing," I offer. Ye-jun looks up at me with surprise in his wide-open eyes. His hands are cold, slender, and feel nice. I try not to dwell on it, but touching his hands makes my stomach flutter.

    Ye-jun looks down again at his hands and starts chuckling. What''s so funny? I''m trying to be nice, I think to myself.

    "Sorry, Ernest, I''m not laughing at you. I just noticed the paint on your hands."

    I take my hand away from him quickly, feeling self-conscious about the paint I couldn''t get off my hands. "I tried washing it off, but it''s from a new paint set I bought."

    With a wide smile, Ye-jun replies, "You''re a true artist, aren''t you?"

    I can''t help but laugh at this. One moment we were having such a serious conversation, and now I can''t hold back my laughter because of some dumb paint on my hands. I keep laughing, really trying to hold it back, but now my eyes are watering and Ye-jun is laughing along with me.

    "Your laugh is adorable!" Ye-jun shouts with laughter.

    "Stop! You''re going to make me laugh more!" I exclaim.

    "What? I think it''s adorable, and your laugh is making me laugh more!"

    "We probably look like maniacs right now!"

    "And I''m totally okay with that," Ye-jun replies, laughing.

    After calming down a bit from our laughter, I begin to get my composure back when suddenly Ye-jun speaks up in a more serious tone, "Thank you for listening, Ernest. I really appreciate it."

    I''m a bit thrown off by this, but in a good way because seeing Ye-jun smile makes me smile, "Of course, anytime."

    There''s a moment of silence between us. I don''t mind the silence, though, because just being in Ye-jun''s presence and seeing him happy is worth it. As we sit there for a moment, I start thinking about the next time we can hang out... "Hey, I was thinking...would you maybe want to come to an art exhibit with me next week?" I''m hoping Ye-jun says yes to this. I know a lot of people might find going to an art gallery boring, but it''s something that I enjoy and I want to share that experience with Ye-jun.

    "An art exhibit? I''m not much of an art person, but I''d be down to go," Ye-jun responds.

    "Great! I think you''ll really enjoy it. There''s this one piece I''ve been dying to show someone. It''s really incredible." I can''t believe he really wants to go!

    "Well, if you say it''s that amazing, then I definitely need to see this painting," Ye-jun says.

    "I''m sure you''ll appreciate it," I say to Ye-jun.

    We continue the rest of the night talking about school and art. Ye-jun genuinely seems interested in what I have to say, and he''s always laughing and smiling. I can''t help but feel myself opening up more to him than I have with anyone before.

 Chapter 12: The Embrace

    The day is dragging on and I''m just watching the clock tick until I can leave this room. I am trying my best to pay attention to what the professor is going on about, but I''m too excited to even notice as I''m seeing Ye-jun today.

    I was surprised the last time we hung out that he agreed to going to an art gallery with me. I know he says he likes looking at paintings, but I didn''t think he would actually agree to go. This makes me nervous too because what if he hates it? Maybe he won''t hate it, but perhaps he won''t find some kind of appreciation for art.

    I might be overthinking this because I don''t see Ye-jun being the type of person to hate something. He''s so nice to me, probably the nicest person I''ve met while being in college, or even in this state. I''ve grown to really like Ye-jun. I know we haven''t known each other for that long, but he''s a really good friend, and I hope he feels the same way about me.

    Suddenly, I notice all the students packing up, and the professor is talking about some readings we need to do before next week. I start throwing my stuff into my backpack and head out of the class before anyone else does. Ye-jun says he won''t be out of class until 3 today, which is okay with me because I can stop by my apartment to drop my stuff off and eat something before meeting up with him.

    As I make my way to my apartment, I can''t help but feel a flutter in my stomach. Ye-jun has been on my mind all week, and I''m eager to see him again. I want to make sure everything is perfect, from the outfit I wear to the gallery we visit. I take a deep breath and remind myself to relax. It''s just a casual outing with a friend, right? But as I reach my apartment and start getting ready, I can''t help but feel a little nervous excitement building up inside of me. I hope Ye-jun enjoys the art gallery.

    I pace back and forth in my apartment, waiting for 3 o''clock to come. My roommate enters the apartment, and I barely notice his presence until he speaks up, "Are you going on a date?"

    "Huh?"

    "Are you going on a date?" He says this in the same monotone voice as before.

    "Uh, no, just meeting a friend." A date? Why would he think it''s a date?

    "Oh, ok. You seem nervous, so I just assumed." He puts his head back in the fridge, looking for more of my food to eat. I don''t mind if he eats my food. He says he''s going to move out by the end of this semester anyway.

    I start to process what he said more. A date? Ye-jun and I are just friends, and I don''t think he''s gay. Not that his sexuality matters to me, gay or not, I think Ye-jun is a cool person, so I wouldn''t care how he identifies himself.

    I try to push these thoughts out of my mind as I finish getting ready. I make sure my hair is styled just right and that I''m wearing something that makes me feel confident. I check the time on my phone and realize that it''s almost 3 o''clock. I grab my bag and head out the door, my heart beating a little faster with anticipation.

    I make it to the gallery and don''t see Ye-jun, but that''s okay. I wanted to get here before him anyway. I enter the building and quickly greet the security guard with a head nod before starting to walk around. I''ve been to this place before, but I like the paintings here a lot. They are simple, and not much thought needs to go into looking at them, unlike some other paintings.

    I stare at each painting, taking in all the little details, from the brush strokes to the blended colors. I can''t help but be amazed at the talent some of these artists have. I really hope that one day my painting can be in a gallery. I get nervous thinking about taking that leap, but for now, I''ll stick with putting my paintings up throughout my room.

    At that moment, I see out of the corner of my eye a figure outside of the glass windows. Its Ye-jun! I can¡¯t help, but smile and wave him on over! He waves back and walks inside.

    "Hey, Ye-jun! You made it!" I eagerly say.

    "Yeah, sorry I''m a bit late. I ran into someone on my way here," Ye-jun says, sounding a bit put off by this person. Hopefully, it was nothing bad, I think to myself.

    "No worries. I''m just glad you''re here now. Come on, let me show you my favorite piece in the exhibit." Without so much as a second thought, I grab Ye-jun''s wrist and start walking him towards the back. I know I should let go because I know he''s not a little kid who needs a parent holding his wrist, but I get too excited. Now that I have a friend to show these paintings to, it makes me happy.

    Finally, I stop and stare at the painting. "I love this piece," I say to myself, admiring the way the woman is painted and the flowers that surround her. The woman is already beautiful herself, but with the flowers and the texture of the colors, it just makes her stand out even more.

    "Why is this your favorite painting here?" Ye-jun asks, breaking me out of my trance.

    I turn to look at Ye-jun. "I just think it''s so beautiful. The way the colors all blend together, and the way the woman is looking off into the distance, it''s like she''s contemplating something. Plus, I just love how the flowers in the background give the painting a really dreamy, ethereal feel." I explain, hoping that Ye-jun can see what I see in this painting. It''s always interesting to hear someone else''s perspective on art, and I''m curious to hear what Ye-jun thinks.

    "Hmmm, that''s actually a very simple response," Ye-jun says.

    "What do you mean?" I ask, looking at him with a quizzical expression.

    "I mean, I was expecting some crazy abstract answer from you, kind of like how they portray artists in the movies," Ye-jun explains.

    I chuckle softly. "Oh, yeah, I don''t have any crazy theories about this painting. Maybe some of them, but I just like this one a lot."

    I watch Ye-jun as he takes another look at the painting, and I can see his expression changing. He seems to look a bit sad. Oh god, I didn''t want him to get sad looking at this painting!

    "Are you okay, Ye-jun?" I ask, hoping he''s not feeling down.

    "Uh, yeah, sorry," Ye-jun mumbles. Damn it, I think I made him upset or this painting did.

    "You don''t seem okay; your face says otherwise," I observe, noticing the sadness in his eyes. I don''t want to pry, but he looks so down right now. I hope he feels as though he can talk to me if he needs to. As his friend, I want to support him in any way I can.

    "Uh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about you¡­¡± Ye-jun says, and I can''t help but feel thrown off by this. But then, Ye-jun continues his sentence, "Oh, sorry, I didn''t mean it like that. I was just thinking about how cool it is that you have such a passion for this," and I feel my face getting hot. Jesus, why did I react like that for a second. I''m glad he clarified what he meant, though.

    "Oh!" I exclaim, putting my head down, feeling a bit embarrassed by my reaction. "Sorry, I didn''t mean to react like that," I say, trying to laugh it off, but I''m not very good in these kinds of situations. I hope Ye-jun doesn''t think I''m weird or anything.

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    "It''s okay. I was just lost in thought for a moment, that''s all," Ye-jun says, smiling warmly at me, and I feel a bit better now about how I reacted.

    Trying to lift Ye-jun''s spirits, I start thinking that maybe he has something that he likes. So, I decide to ask him, "Well, I''m sure there''s something you have a passion for, or at least something you did have a passion for."

    Ye-jun looks up for a second, as though he''s recalling a memory. "I used to like playing the guitar," he says.

    Ye-jun plays the guitar? This guy is awesome!

    "Really?" I exclaim, probably saying it a bit too loud, but I can''t contain my excitement. I''ve always admired people who can play musical instruments.

    In a lower voice, I ask Ye-jun, "That''s so cool! What kind of music did you like to play?"

    I can tell that Ye-jun becomes more relaxed and almost excited-looking once I ask him this. It''s great to see him talking about his passion, and I''m eager to learn more about what he likes to play on the guitar.

    As Ye-jun talks about his guitar playing days, we walk around the gallery. He mentions that when he was 12 or 13 years old, he couldn''t recall exactly, his aunt gifted him a guitar for Christmas. He was enthusiastic about learning to play and ended up teaching himself through online video tutorials. I am impressed by Ye-jun''s self-teaching abilities, but I don''t want to interrupt his train of thought, so I keep listening and nod eagerly as he talks passionately about music.

    Ye-jun and I are engrossed in conversation, time seems to stand still. However, we are abruptly interrupted by the security guard, who approaches us and says, "I''m sorry, but the gallery will be closing in about 10 minutes." I turn to Ye-jun, who appears just as surprised as I am by how quickly time has passed. We apologize to the security guard and head outside.

    Stepping outside, I''m greeted by a blast of cold air that makes my hair flutter in the wind. Ye-jun stands beside me, surveying his surroundings. I wonder if he''s considering leaving, and the thought of parting ways with him makes me feel a little sad. Before I can dwell on it, Ye-jun speaks up. "Hey," he murmurs.

    I turn to him. "Yeah?"

    "Would you like to take a walk for a little while?" Ye-jun asks, still scanning the area as though he''s speaking to someone else.

    "Sure," I reply eagerly, not wanting the night to end just yet.

    We begin walking down the street, the wind whistling past us. I pull my coat tighter around me and look over at Ye-jun, who seems unfazed by the cold.

    We start walking, our footsteps echoing against the pavement as we make our way down the empty street. The city is alive with the sounds of cars whizzing past, the distant chatter from bars and restaurants, and the warm glow of the street lights reflecting off the towering skyscrapers.

    As we continue walking, our conversation ranges from the iconic architecture to the lively nightlife. I open up to Ye-jun, telling him about my family''s lack of support for my painting career, but how I remain close with my little sister. He nods in agreement and shares that his family has similar expectations of him, being the oldest sibling. To my surprise, I learn that Ye-jun also has a younger sibling like me!

    "Are you close with your little brother?" I ask Ye-jun.

    "Hmm, I used to be, but I think we''ve grown apart. Besides, my parents adore him," Ye-jun replies, his tone tinged with sadness. I notice that whenever he talks about his family, it''s usually not in a positive light. It makes me feel a bit sympathetic towards him, as everyone needs a good support system.

    Trying to uplift the mood, I say, "I''m sure your brother probably misses you."

    Ye-jun doesn''t respond, and I take the hint that he may not want to talk about it further.

    We continue our walk, and I''m not sure if Ye-jun has a destination in mind, or if he''s simply enjoying the moment. It doesn''t matter to me. Just being with him like this brings me immense joy. As we walk in comfortable silence, my mind begins to wander. I try to think of a friend I''ve felt this way about before, but no one comes to mind.

    Well, there was this girl I was friends with when I was around 10 years old. We were really close, or so I thought. However, once we entered middle school, she suddenly stopped talking to me. I remember feeling upset and not wanting to go to school anymore because of it. But I was forced to attend, and I never talked to that girl again.

    As I think back on it now, it seems like a small and insignificant memory. But at the time, it was a significant event that made me question the nature of friendship. Walking with Ye-jun, I realize that I don''t have to question anything about our friendship. It''s simple, easy, and enjoyable.

    We find ourselves at a small park, surrounded by a few benches. Without a word, we sit down, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. The park is quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city.

    I glance over at Ye-jun, and I can''t help but feel a sense of calmness wash over me. His presence is reassuring, and I feel fortunate for the unexpected connection we''ve formed.

    As we sit in comfortable silence, I take in the small details around us - the way the leaves flutter in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the way Ye-jun''s eyes sparkle in the soft light. I feel content in this moment, not wanting it to end.

    Ye-jun interrupts my train of thought, asking, "So, what are you thinking about?"

    Feeling a bit embarrassed, I don''t want to reveal my innermost thoughts. I stutter, "Umm, not much I guess, just thinking about stuff."

    Ye-jun doesn''t press further, and instead asks, "Did you have a good time today?"

    I turn to face him, a smile spreading across my face, "Oh, Ye-jun, I had a great time! I''m so happy you agreed to come out and show you some of the amazing paintings we saw!"

    Ye-jun chuckles, "Well, I''m glad I came along. It was different, but I like hanging out with you."

    Hearing that he enjoyed spending time with me sends a wave of joy through me. "That''s great, Ye-jun!" I reply, feeling content.

    I can''t believe Ye-jun just said he enjoys hanging out with me! I feel myself internally freaking out over this. Ye-jun is such a cool guy, and for someone like me, it''s hard to believe I''ve made an impression on him. I can''t help but feel almost giddy at the thought. I''m not sure how to handle these feelings.

    As we sit there, trying to remain calm, I start to notice small white specks falling to the ground.

    "It''s snowing!" I exclaim, standing up from the bench. I start to run around, trying to catch the snowflakes in my mouth. I love the snow! It reminds me of the times my little sister and I used to play in it, and she would always insist on me helping her build a snowman.

    Turning to look at Ye-jun, I see that he''s still sitting on the bench, watching me play with the snow in the air, laughing.

    His laughter is contagious, and I can''t help but feel happy in this moment. I continue to play in the snow, feeling carefree and alive.

    After my playful time in the snow, I return to the bench and sit down next to Ye-jun. We resume our conversation, chatting about random things and laughing about silly jokes. But as the snow continues to fall and the temperature drops, we both start to feel the chill.

    We stand up from the bench, and begin to make our way through the snow-covered park. We walk in silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of the snow beneath our feet. The snow has turned everything into a winter wonderland.

    As we reach the park entrance, we both turn to face each other. Our breaths are visible in the cold air, "Thanks for tonight, Ye-jun. It was really great."

    Ye-jun smiles, "Yeah, it was. Thanks for showing me a good time."

    Without thinking, I lean in and wrap my arms around Ye-jun, hugging him tightly. I feel his body jolt for a second, but then quickly relaxes into the embrace.

    As we hold each other, I can feel my heart beating steadily in my chest. I don''t know why I felt the sudden urge to hug him, but in this moment, I just wanted to hold him, even if it was just for a brief moment.

    As we say our goodbyes and part ways, I can''t get Ye-jun out of my mind. I enjoyed spending time with him today, but I can''t help but wonder if he feels the same way. Maybe he''s just being friendly, and I''m reading too much into things.

    I try to shake off the thought and focus on other things, but Ye-jun keeps creeping back into my mind. I wonder if we''ll hang out again soon, or if today was just a one-time thing.

    As I finally reach my apartment, I let out a sigh and try to push the thoughts aside. Maybe it''s better to just enjoy our friendship and not worry about anything else. Maybe Ye-jun is just being a good friend, and I''m overthinking things.

 Chapter 13: Tangled Expectations, Hidden Desires

    The snow continued to fall softly as I made my way back to my apartment. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of Ernest and the hug we shared. I couldn''t help but wonder if there was more to our relationship than just friendship. As I entered my apartment, I could feel my heart beating faster. I grabbed my phone and started typing out a message to Ernest, asking if he wanted to hang out again soon. But then I paused. Was I reading too much into our relationship? Did he feel the same way as I did? I deleted the message and decided to wait, to see if he would initiate something. As I got ready for bed, I couldn''t shake the feeling of wanting more with Ernest.

    As I lay in bed, I couldn''t shake off the feeling of wanting something more with Ernest. But the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Why was I feeling this way towards him? Was I attracted to him? The thought of being gay hadn''t crossed my mind before, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I might be.

    I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. I had always thought of myself as straight, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had never really been interested in anyone before. It was always just a passing crush or a fleeting feeling, but this was different. I couldn''t get Ernest out of my head, and the thought of being with him felt right.

    But the idea of being gay was terrifying. What would my friends and family think? How would they react? Would they still accept me? Is Ernest even gay? These thoughts kept swirling around in my head, and I couldn''t seem to shake them off.

    As I drifted off to sleep, I knew that I had a lot to think about. Maybe it was time for me to start exploring my feelings and figuring out who I really was, but the fear of the unknown was holding me back.

    <hr>

    I woke up the next morning still feeling tired. The night had been restless and I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about Ernest. Did I really have feelings for him that went beyond friendship? I didn''t want to ignore him again because the thought of hurting him made me feel terrible, especially since we were working on a project together.

    But was telling him how I felt the right thing to do? Would it push him away? I couldn''t keep feeling this way. I knew I wouldn''t be able to focus on anything else, and the longer I kept it inside, the more I felt like I was going to lose it.

    I couldn''t help but think back to all the moments we shared, the way he looked at me, the way his touch sent shivers down my spine. Maybe it was all in my head, but what if it wasn''t? What if he felt the same way too? The thought both excited and terrified me.

    I knew I had to do something, but I didn''t know what. I couldn''t keep avoiding the situation, but at the same time, I couldn''t risk ruining our friendship or making things awkward between us. I needed to figure out a way to express my feelings without making things too complicated.

    As I got ready for the day, I kept going back and forth in my mind, weighing the pros and cons of telling Ernest how I felt. Part of me wanted to take the risk and see where things could go, while the other part of me was scared of the consequences.

    But one thing was for sure - I couldn''t keep living in this constant state of uncertainty. I needed to make a decision and soon.

    I leave my apartment and walk along the streets. It''s Saturday, so there are lots of people out, even though the temperature is almost below freezing. But the city wants to see the white covered streets. I don¡¯t have a destination in mind. I just need to clear my head. I walk and walk, passing lots of people along the way, wondering what each of these people is thinking. Are they maybe going through the same thing as me? What are their fears and desires?

    I continue walking when suddenly I feel my phone vibrating in the back pocket of my pants. I pull it out and see that it''s my mom calling. I hesitate for a moment, but I know she''ll just keep calling if I don''t answer.

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    "Annyeong, eomma" I say hesitantly.

    "Annyeong adeul mwohae?" Mom asks in a stern tone.

    "Amugeosdo an hae. Jogeum swigo iss-eoyo," I respond, trying to sound nonchalant.

    "Geurae, geureonde gongbuneun eotteohge doego isseo?" she asks in a cold tone of voice.

    "Jeoneun jal jinaego issgo gongbudo jal hago iss-eoyo," I say, feeling annoyed that she always reminds me to focus on my studies.

    ¡°Geulaedo hagjeom jal bad-eulyeomyeon yeolsimhi haeyaji. Chingudeul-ilang nolgo issneun sigan-e gongbuleul hae,¡± she continues her lecture.

    ¡°Algess-eoyo,¡± I mumble, trying to end the phone call as quickly as possible.

    ¡°Geureonde, myeochil jeone sul masyeosseo? Hakyep-e jijang-i doejianh-dolog joshimhaeya dwae,¡± she says.

    ¡°Aniyo, eomma. Deo isang sul an masil geoyeyo,¡± I reply.

    ¡°Joh-a. Geuleom jal jinaego iss-eo? she asks.

    ¡°Ne, jal jinaego iss-eoyo,¡± I reply.

    ¡°Geulae, geuleom najung-e tto jeonhwahalge. Geongang josimhae,¡± she says before hanging up.

    I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of my frustration and resentment towards my mom crushing me. It''s like she can never just let me be and trust that I know what I''m doing. Every time she calls to nag me about school, it''s like she''s implying that I''m not doing enough, not good enough. And maybe I''m not, but it''s not like I''m not trying. I pour hours of my life into studying, sacrificing sleep and socializing just to keep up with my classes. And yet, it seems like no matter what I do, it''s never enough to meet her expectations.

    It''s like she doesn''t care about how much pressure she puts on me, or how her constant criticisms and reminders only make me feel more stressed and discouraged. Does she even realize that I have my own dreams and aspirations, beyond just pleasing her? I want to make something of myself, to be successful and happy in my own way, but it''s hard to believe in myself when my own mother doesn''t seem to believe in me.

    And even if I do manage to graduate college, what then? Will she still be calling me every day, bugging me about work and money and whether I''m living up to her standards? I just want to scream and tell her to leave me alone, to let me figure things out for myself. But I can''t, because even though her constant nagging drives me insane, I still love her and want her to be proud of me.

    As I walk through the city streets, the thought of Ernest pops into my head, and I can''t help but feel a wave of angst and confusion. I don''t know what to do about him, or how I feel about him. All I know is that I''m so tired of feeling like I have to please everyone else, to live up to their expectations and not my own. Maybe I should just take a chance and tell Ernest how I feel, but what if I ruin our friendship? What if he doesn''t feel the same way? The uncertainty is driving me crazy, but at least it''s something that I can control, something that''s mine and not someone else''s expectations.

    As I continue to wrestle with my conflicting emotions and responsibilities, I can''t help but wonder if this constant struggle is just a part of growing up. Maybe everyone goes through this, feeling like they''re stuck between pleasing others and following their own path. Or maybe it''s just me, and I''ll never be able to reconcile my desires with the expectations of those around me. Either way, I know that I have a long way to go before I can find the answers I''m looking for, and I can only hope that I have the strength to keep going, even when the path ahead seems unclear.

 Chapter 14: Falling for Ernest

    The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of emotions. I couldn''t stop thinking about Ernest, and every time I saw him, my heart raced and my palms grew sweaty. We spent a lot of time together, working on the project, hanging out, and just talking, and I found myself growing more and more comfortable around him.

    But even as our friendship deepened, I couldn''t shake off the nagging feeling that there was something more between us. Every time we hugged, every time he touched my arm or looked into my eyes, I felt a surge of electricity coursing through my veins.

    I had dated people before, but I had never felt this way about anyone. Was it because society still frowned upon same-sex relationships, making this kind of feeling almost feel forbidden? I didn''t want to believe that was the case. I truly wanted to believe that maybe I did have feelings for him.

    I sit alone in my dimly lit apartment, my thoughts racing, when suddenly I''m interrupted by the vibration of my phone on the coffee table. It''s Ernest calling me! Without hesitation, I pick up his call and say, "Hey Ernest!"

    "Oh, hi, Ye-jun!"

    "Hey," I feel a bit awkward, not sure what to say next.

    "Uh, what are you doing right now?" Ernest asks.

    "I''m just at home watching TV. Why?" I reply.

    "Well, if you''re busy, I can just call back another time," Ernest says.

    "No! I''m not busy. Did you want to hang out?" I interrupt.

    "Sure, yeah, actually I do," Ernest chuckles.

    "Do you want to maybe come over?" I ask.

    "Really? Ummm, yeah, that would be great," Ernest replies.

    "Awesome! I''ll text you my address then," I say.

    "Okay, thanks Ye-jun. I''ll text you when I leave my place," Ernest says.

    "Okay, cool. See you soon!" I say before ending the call.

    Shit! Did I just invite him over to my place? I think to myself as I hang up the phone. Frantically, I run off the couch and start cleaning up the place. It looks like a filth lives here, and with how much time I''ve been hanging out with Ernest, I hardly ever have time to clean up. I start picking up empty food containers and putting them in the trash can. I also fold the clothes that were piled up on the couch and place them in the closet. Finally, after a few minutes of cleaning, I look around and feel content with the result. I sit back down on the couch and take a deep breath. I reach for my phone and see a text from Ernest: ¡°Leaving now! I¡¯ll be there in 10 minutes!¡±

    Perfect timing, but as I start to get comfortable, I realize I haven''t prepared any food. I shoot up from the couch and check the fridge. "Oh my god, I have no god damn food!" I check the cabinets and see that I have a shit ton of ramen. "Okay, this will have to do!" I grab four bags of Samyang Buldak and start boiling water.

    As I wait for the water to boil, I grab two cups from the cabinet and start thinking about what Ernest would like to drink. "Hmmm, does he want beer or soda, or maybe just water?" I can feel myself panicking as time is passing with Ernest almost here. I grab all three and set them up on the coffee table in front of the TV.

    After neatly placing the drinks, I go to check the water. "Damn it! It''s barely getting warm!" I start opening up the ramen bags and say, "Fuck it," and just throw them in the pot.

    Then my phone vibrates in my pocket. I don''t even need to check who it is before picking up the phone. "Hey, Ernest!" I say, trying to sound like I''m not out of breath.

    "Hey, Ye-jun. I think I''m here, but it looks like you have to buzz me in," Ernest says.

    "Oh, right, of course!" I walk over to the front door and click the buzzer. "Okay, come on up, and I''ll meet you at the front door."

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    "Okay, thanks!" We end the call, and I wait near the door, pacing back and forth.

    It feels like an eternity as I hear a knock at the door. I try to wait at least a minute without wanting Ernest to think I am waiting for him like a creep, but I can''t wait any longer, and I rush over to open the door. There stands Ernest, quickly bolting his head up and making eye contact.

    "Hey Ye-jun," Ernest says shyly.

    "Hey, I''m glad you came!" I curse myself, thinking I am probably coming off too strong, "Come inside, please," I move over while still holding the door open for Ernest. He walks in at a fast pace, and I can see the back of his head starting to look around my apartment.

    I chuckle awkwardly, "Sorry if the place seems messy. I, uh, don''t usually have people over."

    "Oh, sorry!" Ernest swivels and stares at me with his hands moving around as though he were trying to defend himself, "I was just thinking your place is very nice and clean. I like the space you have." I notice Ernest''s cheeks looking a bit flushed, which causes my ears to burn. We both look away from each other, staring at anything else in the room besides each other.

    "Ummm, Ye-jun?" Ernest speaks up.

    I quickly respond, staring at him, "Yes?"

    "Are you making something right now?"

    "Shit!" I run over to the stove and notice the water boiling over. I completely forgot about the ramen. I turn down the heat on the stove and grab a nearby towel and start cleaning up the water that spilled over.

    I hear Ernest from close behind me, "Do you need help?"

    I briefly turn around to look at him and turn back to the stove, "Uh, shit, uh, no, I''m good. Sorry, go ahead and sit down on the couch. There are drinks, and I hope you''re hungry."

    I can hear the smile in Ernest''s voice, "I am hungry, actually, but okay, well, let me know if you need any help. I don''t want to be useless."

    I laugh aloud, "Trust me, Ernest, you being here is useful enough for me." I continue cleaning up the mess and finish making the ramen. The noodles are softer than I would like them to be, but it''ll have to do.

    I grab two bowls and start grabbing chopsticks when I realize that Ernest probably doesn''t use chopsticks. I instead grab us both forks and carry the pot of ramen over to the coffee table.

    As I am setting down the food, I ask Ernest, "Do you like ramen?"

    "Uh, yes, I do actually. I mean, I''ve never been to a ramen restaurant, but I eat the packaged ones."

    I can''t help but blurt out, "You''ve never been to a ramen restaurant?"

    Ernest puts his head down bashfully, "No, I guess it''s because I''ve never been with anyone."

    I flop down onto the couch and start dishing us both up, "Well, I know what we''re doing on our next outing."

    "Really?" Ernest says excitedly.

    "Yes! I am going to take you to a ramen restaurant."

    Ernest''s eyes widen, "That sounds amazing! When should we go?"

    I smile, "How about next weekend? I know a great place that serves really authentic ramen."

    Ernest nods eagerly, "Yes, that sounds perfect. Thank you, Ye-jun."

    I wave it off, "No problem at all. I''m always happy to introduce people to good food."

    We settle onto the couch and start eating our ramen, chatting about our favorite foods and places to eat. Sometimes when I talk to Ernest, it feels as though I have known him my whole life. The conversations that we have always flow so easily between us, and I try to imagine if I have ever had this sort of connection with anyone. But when I think really hard and try to remember, no one comes to mind.

    After we finish eating, I turn the TV on and start going through the different apps, "Is there anything you want to watch?" I ask Ernest.

    Ernest thinks for a moment before answering, "How about a comedy? I could use a good laugh."

    I nod in agreement, "Sure, let me see what''s available." I scroll through the options and find a popular comedy show. "What about this one?"

    Ernest looks at the screen, "Yeah, that looks good. I haven''t seen it yet."

    I hit play and we both get quiet as we start focusing on the show. Ernest seems focused while my mind races. I keep glancing over at Ernest and wonder what he''s thinking right now. Even though we¡¯ve hung out a few times, I still find him difficult to read. I never know what he''s thinking unless we''re focused on the project, then I know it''s just about art. The thought of this makes me smile a bit.

    <hr>

    I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times as I try to adjust to the light. It takes me a moment to realize that I have fallen asleep while watching TV. I sit up, rubbing my eyes and looking around in confusion. I glance at the clock and it reads 3 AM. I turn over and see that Ernest has fallen asleep too. He''s curled up in a ball on the other side of the couch. He looks so peaceful, and I can''t help myself but inch forward closer to him.

    I quietly move closer to Ernest, trying to get a better look at his face. His curly hair is sprawled out, and his mouth is slightly open. His face looks very clean and shiny. As I continue examining his features, I notice that his lips are a bit wet, and I never realized before how nicely shaped they are. I move in closer to his lips, and I can''t help myself, but in the next moment, our lips touch.