dreamglow

4

Cindy

I lied. I lied like my life depended on it, left and right. And I hope it was worth it.

The apartment is my neighbor's and I did have to clean it, but I need to pay $400 rent monthly for it. But Jungkook doesn't have to know. I earn more than I need anyways, and I asked my aunt for an extra hour daily in the store. She will rest more and I will earn more. She doesn't need to know where my money goes anyways.

But the biggest lie I pulled off must be what I told my parents whom I called for the first time in six years. I dug the Internet, old documents at my aunt's house, and some at my apartment, just to find a possible number. I talked to my parents for the first time in six years just to lie to them that I am going to do music and I need some equipment.

They called every few months after they left. Then they stopped, only sent cards and letters. Me and my aunt never called, I refused to. I never told her how I really feel, but I made it obvious that I would rather live on the street than talk to my parents. But I called them on Tuesday. Yeah, I'm going to try music. On Thursday UPS man was already knocking on my door, carrying boxes with equipment I couldn't then name. They sounded overjoyed that their daughter is finally following in their footsteps, finally has a fireworks worthy dream. They don't have to know the truth.

Jungkook is shocked, but I expected it. His reactions range from almost crying, to screaming and hugging me, and I'm not sure whether or not he likes it. But if I have the connections, and I know how to use them, I might as well try. In the worst case scenario, he will tell me to get lost.

When he lets go of me, I jiggle the keys in the air and smile. He lets out a chuckle and takes them from me.

"You can look around. I'm not sure if everything is set up properly," I say. Jungkook turns left and right, unsure where to go first. He starts from the keyboard, which I struggled with the most to be honest, and looks at everything one by one. And I calm down when his eyes twinkle and his smile grows with each step. He touches everything like it's a newborn baby and even giggles when his fingers wrap around the microphone. He's in his own world.

He is beautiful when he does that.

And it makes me want to step further. Unless he stops me, I will keep walking and dragging him behind. He definitely hides something, but the way he loses himself in singing cannot lie. Neither can the bright smile and eye wrinkles when he's surrounded by music.

Unless he tells straight to my face "I don't want to sing", I'm not going to turn around.

"We should... celebrate it," he says, mentally back in the room. His eyes lock with mine and his smile widens in a tempting way.

"Celebrate? Like in a party?" I ask. From the beginning I imagined him to be everything but a party guy.

"Are you a party person?" he asks.
I shake my head. "Not at all."

He looks glad. "That makes two of us, then."

So we party. In our own way. In a way that bonds an introvert who likes cooking and eating with an introvert who likes only the latter like nothing else.

In my apartment, three floors higher, we are stuffed together on the biggest piece of furniture I own - my peachy couch. It fits two and a half chunky people, but we sit like it has one spot. I don't know why, but I don't mind it.

Now the room smells like flowers, not so much like failure anymore, and homemade pizza.

I want to ask something about him, something that will make us even closer, but his high-pitched whine startles me before I can open my mouth. As I bite into my own slice of pizza, Jungkook is halfway through his already, eyebrows furrowed like he wants to punch someone.