Stars in our Hearts

Eighteen

C

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i promised you tomorrow and all i gave you was yesterday.
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"I have a daughter," the old man was putting together flowers. They were all different kinds, none of them going well together but somehow he made it fit. "She's around your age, I believe."

A lot of people are sixteen nowadays, is what I thought. Nothing special.

"Does she like flowers too?"

He smiled at me, "She loves them." He raises his hand to show me his little mix and match, "This is for her. It's her birthday today." I slowly nodded. His grey hair was getting to him, and his monolid eyes were sucked in by the dark circles. He didn't seem American at all, considering he had an accent. "Are you from Asia?" I asked, politely.

"Asia consists of a lot of countries, want to ask again?" I could see him sucking in his cheeks, preventing himself from laughing.

Thankfully, Dad was gone to pick up tea from a nearby shop so he didn't have to witness this embarrassing moment.

"Are you from South Korea?" I asked, again.

He nodded, "You got it."

"I watch K-Dramas."

He bursted out laughing, "Do you know how to say anything in Korean?"

I thought about it, was there? "I think I'm gonna butcher the pronunciation."

"That's alright, I'm sure mine's not so good either." He joked. I found myself relaxing around the man. "Annyeonghaseyo," I said. But it sounded more like An-nie-yong-ha-sayo. Sayo like mayo.

He didn't laugh, simply smiled proudly. "If only my daughter could learn from you."

He was joking, again. "I'm sure her Korean's way better than mine."

"Hm, hopefully it gets better. You father and I are great friends, you know? We go way back."

That was surprising to me. Father had mentioned a friend of his who lived in Aspen, Colorado. He never took me here until recently. "How did you meet him?"

"I was a new immigrant here and your Dad gave me work. He was supposed to be my boss but he ended up becoming a friend, my best friend."

"That's pretty cool."

I picked up a pink flower, smelling it.

It smelled like a warm summer day, the wind brushing your hair back and overwhelming you. So you close your eyes. It feels like that.

"That's a tulip, do you know what pink ones mean?" He asked, laying the flowers down. I shook my head, I didn't think flowers had meanings. "It means happiness or confidence. It's my favourite flower." I handed it to him, "From me, then."

"Thank you," he placed the single tulip in a small vase behind him. "It's your own flower," I pointed out, laughing.

"I know, but you gave it to me."

I was confused, but I didn't say anything else.

"How's it going here?" Dad came out with a bag in his hand. He was smiling at me and the old man. "Jong Suk-si, you look good."

"I should say that about you. Do you ever age?"

"I am younger than you. Let me know your secret, though." He turned to look at me and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders. "This is my son, Crius." He ruffled my hair, "But it seems like you've already met.