How did they get here? Twenty-four hours ago, Jimin and Eileen had not known each other. They had not even been aware the other existed – beyond a photograph Eileen had seen that summer on a billboard. Although, even then something about Jimin had fascinated her. She could not remember what any of the other band members had looked like on that sign. None of them had touched her consciousness the way Jimin had. Her brain had filed his face away for a later date. Yesterday.
Had it really only been yesterday that they had met? It felt like they’d walked through four months together. Not simply sixteen hours. Now they were walking slowly down the main street of the little village they’d slept outside of last night. They were not moving quickly despite the late hour because Eileen was worried about Jimin’s ankle. So he was taking it easy for her sake. But he was fine. He kept saying so.
A few minutes later they had walked the entire length of the street. No auto repair shop. Nothing was open. Except the little church at the other end of town. They ended up standing in front of its white doors a few minutes after they’d begun walking. They could hear the strains of an old hymn floating through the air around them.
Jimin looked at Eileen. She stared back at him. They would most likely not get any help until the church service was over. At a loss, Jimin had no idea what to do.
If they had a phone, they could call someone for help. Maybe there was a towing company in Paris that would drive out here and pick them up. But they had no phone.
“Come on,” she pulled on his hand. “Let’s walk back to our bench. We’ll wait till noon and see if anything opens up for lunch.”
As they walked towards the park once again, Jimin studied her lovely profile. The straight slope of her nose was really quite pretty. And there were those delicious lips of hers. They held no mysteries anymore, yet he found himself wanting to enjoy them again. He cleared his throat to ask her a question instead. But she beat him to it.
“Is it lonely?”
He looked at her. “What?”
“Being a pop idol. Is it lonely?”
His eyes grew sad. It was the thing he tried to avoid thinking about. “Very.”
“How old were you when you left home?”
“16.” He paused for a moment. “If I’m honest about it, I miss my little brother…a lot. He was my best friend growing up. We were very close. We would play games and watch movies together. I was so happy back then…We barely see each other anymore. I miss him so much.” He paused. “And I miss my parents.”
“Did your parents support your dreams?”
His head bounced up and down as he thought of his father, especially. “Appa paid for my dance lessons. He encouraged me to pursue my passions. And of course, Eomma has always been there for me. Our family was very close when I was growing up.” Another sigh. “I don’t think of them too much. It makes me sad. Then I really start to miss them. And I remember all these wonderful memories growing up which makes me feel even lonelier now.”
Eileen looked at him with a growing sadness in her eyes. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to give up so much for this life. Is it worth it?”
His eyes met hers, but he didn’t say anything. Then he stared out at the horizon for a few moments. “Yes. And no. But I had to pick a future now, didn’t I? I picked a very hard one. And a very wonderful one. When I think of my brother and my parents, I am very sad. Lonely. When I think of Tae and the other guys, I am happy. Or at least content. I have them. They’ve become my brothers, and I know they understand all my struggles. We’re a team. We’re a family. We take care of each other. Let me show you something. I keep this because it says it all.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a ticket from it and handed it to her. It was old and faded, the words nearly indiscernible. She could not read it anyway. It was in Korean.
“What is it?” she asked as her eyes met his again.
“It’s a ticket to an amusement park. Jungkook, Jin, Tae, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok – they were all there with me. It was the first time we all went out to play together during our training period. Playing together and eating together was my favorite part of our pre-debut days. We became friends then. We became family.”
“I can tell they mean a lot to you.” She handed the ticket back to him. She wouldn’t want to lose anything so precious to him.
He nodded as he put the ticket back into his wallet and stowed it safely in his pocket. “They got me through some very rough times. They still do.” His eyes got a faraway look in them as he stared off into the distance again. “I hope they’re not too worried about me right now. I should have called them again last night.”
“So overall, you’re happy with your life?”
“It’s not the existence most people have, but it is a good one. We make a lot of money. We’re loved by ARMYs all over the world now. We’re reaching people, loving them, making them feel better about themselves. But I do want more out of life.” He glanced over at her again.
I want you. And I want the promise of you. The implication that I won’t hurt anymore, that I won’t be lonely again.
But was it true? Would having her remove all the loneliness from his heart? No one else’s presence had ever solved that problem permanently. Did she have a power the others lacked? And if she didn’t, what was the solution?
“Like what?”
He stared at her. He’d been thinking so hard that he wasn’t sure what she was asking.
“What?”
“What else do you want out of life?”
You.
He looked at her unflinchingly. “A wife. Children.”
She smiled.
“Do you want those things?”
“A wife? Not so much,” she grinned. “But I do want children.”
He laughed at her answer as his mind conjured up a picture of their future kids: two beautiful, little boys, one with black hair and dark eyes and the other somehow miraculously inheriting her astonishing red hair and bright green eyes.
She was seeing a similar picture. But her daydream had three children in it, two boys and a girl, and all three of them were clearly Korean with Jimin’s stunning, chocolate eyes and dark hair. She knew his dark blond head was the result of a bottle of bleach.
“Would you teach them to paint?”
She nodded. “Would you teach them to dance?”
“Yes, but only if they liked it. They might be different from me. I’m different from my family.”
Ah, yes. The age-old isolation of not fitting into one’s own family.
“I suffer from that too,” she sighed.
“It makes you sad?”
She lifted her eyes to his beautiful face. “Let’s just say that my da wasn’t as supportive as yours.”
“Is that why you left Ireland?”
She peered over at him. The short answer? Or the long one? While she pondered whether she should share her darkest secret with this newfound friend, he noticed her hesitancy and was quick to reassure her.
“It’s ok. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. How about you answer this question instead. Why do you paint?”
She smiled. “Because it makes me happy. It sends me somewhere safe.”
“Safe? Safe from what?” He glanced sharply at her. Or was it: safe from whom?
She looked into his eyes and saw the questions sitting there. She took a deep breath. Jimin was safe. Hadn’t he proven it last night? He wasn’t her father. He was gentle. Sweet. Tender. She remembered his fingers tracing her cheek, and suddenly she craved his touch again. Not just clinging to her hand. It wasn’t enough. She needed more physical contact with a loving human being. Her insides were all in a jumble now as she’d recalled the horrors of her childhood. Jimin had sounded happy in his. Hers had held terror. Yet she’d never been able to give up her art. Not even to appease her furious father. It’s why at the tender age of eighteen, she’d fled Ireland for an art internship in Paris.
She stopped walking and turned towards him, releasing his hand.
He’d asked for too much. She wasn’t ready to share all her life with him. He felt his heart sinking toward his toes.
Then she surprised him by walking right up against his chest and putting her arms around his waist. She lay her cheek over his heart, tilting her head to turn her lips towards his ear. And she began to whisper as his arms came up around her, cradling her against him. Now his heart was turning over in his chest out of tenderness for her.
Haltingly, she began to speak, for the first time telling another human being what she had endured for nearly two decades. “My father used to beat me. Whenever I disappointed him. Which was often. I was always off in a field sketching pictures in my notebook or painting a sunrise or a flower. He wanted me to work the fields with him. But I would rather paint them. He didn’t get the son his heart craved. A strong farmhand. Instead, he got a silly, flighty girl. One who always had her red head in the clouds, even after he’d bruised it.”
Jimin felt something wet hit his neck. That’s when he realized he was crying. He’d heard the tears in her voice. Now they were materializing on her face. And on his. As he glanced down at that precious face buried against his chest, he reached up to wipe away a tear, his left arm still wrapped tightly around her.
Sobbing, she clung to him. As his fingers found her face, her own heart sighed with relief. Someone had finally come to comfort her in her moment of pain. She felt like Jimin not only commiserated with her, but he also understood her. He felt her silent agony and wanted to remove it from her heart. She felt immensely comforted.
Jimin could not have described the emotions swirling in his chest in that moment. Something sweet and undefinable rose out of his heart and wrapped itself around her. He also felt a burning anger rising within him. Its object was the brutal father who had beaten this beautiful girl. He might be her father, but he was no appa. Jimin knew it was a good thing that he wasn’t facing her father in that moment. He hated bullies. And a father who was a bully was the absolute worst kind of bully. The one who should have protected her and cherished her had abused her and terrified her instead. All Jimin’s passionate heart boiled with rage against that injustice. And it also mourned all she had lost in her childhood. He might have given up his family for fame, but at least he’d had a wonderful childhood in the safe bosom of his delightful family. And he could always go home to them, knowing he was still loved and wanted by both his appa and his eomma. This girl had never known that kind of love.
“What about your mama?” he whispered the question in her ear.
Her voice catching on a new sob, she cried against his heart, “She died giving birth to me.”
Ahhh. So her father hadn’t just been disappointed that she’d been born a girl. He had probably been brokenhearted by the death of his wife and possibly even blamed the tiny creature for her mother’s death.
“Do you look like your mama?”
She nodded. “I’m her spitting image.”
So every time he looked at you, he was reminded of what he had lost.
“Do you think your da loved your mama very much?”
She nodded. “I do. But he’s a hard man. And I think I’ve always reminded him of her, of what he lost. And he has always blamed me. If I hadn’t been born, she’d still be here.”
“No! Shhhh…” Jimin tried to calm her, but she was sobbing harder now. She’d never let any of this out before. She’d always been afraid that if it was spoken, she would shatter into a million pieces. And that’s exactly what it felt like right now.
She clung to him, like a drowning woman would grab for a lifesaver, hoping it would pull her to safety. But what could he say to comfort her heart?
“You’re precious. You were your mother’s parting gift to your da. You were the very best thing she could ever have given him. And given a choice, I know that she would have brought you into this world, even if it meant that she had to depart. You were her prized child, her precious daughter. She gave all of herself in birthing you. And she gave you her great beauty too. Your father is a fool if he doesn’t adore you.”
She was soaking his shirt with her tears. She’d wrapped herself so tightly around him that he felt like they were the same person right now. He could feel the pain in her heart that acutely too. Brutal emotions – agony, rage, loneliness, sadness, isolation – they all engulfed him as he held her, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could.
She was so precious. She was priceless. And her father had broken her. He’d taken that captivating child with her astounding gift, and he’d shattered her dear soul. But he hadn’t been able to steal her gift, thank God.
“He can’t have you. He can’t steal the gifts you’ve been given. He can’t rob you of your destiny. I’m so terribly sorry that he didn’t love you like you deserve. You should have been treasured. Adored.” He couldn’t fathom how her father could not love her. She was clearly adorable.
I’ve known you only a day and already…Je t’adore. He knew little French, but that much he remembered. I adore you.
Jimin was running his hand down her head, smoothing her gorgeous, auburn hair with his fingers. How could he ever let her go? He was suddenly thankful for the silence, for the stillness of the countryside. They were standing in the road, uninterrupted by car or bicycle or any other human being. He could simply stand here holding her safely in his tender embrace. He bent his head and buried his lips in her dark red tresses. He planted kisses in that enchanting hair while she continued to cling, crying, to him. Then he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
He was suddenly so thankful that he had been chased by a crazy crowd yesterday…and run into this lovely girl…and twisted his ankle…and been rescued by her…and had to go with her to her apartment. And fled without a single phone…and been forced to sleep under the stars…and endured a flat tire…and suffered an empty village. All those strange circumstances had brought them to this moment right now. And she needed him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been needed by anyone other than BTS. It felt good to help someone else work through their pain. He was so thankful that he’d been allowed to steal away some of her loneliness. She’d been all alone for far too long.
Suddenly, he felt selfish for hoping yesterday that she didn’t have a suitor. Now he felt bad that she lacked a boyfriend. She needed someone in her life. At the very least, she should have a close friend, someone whose shoulder she could lean on and cry on when she needed it. But right now, he was the one who was here with her. In this moment, it fell to him to speak life into her heart and situation.
“You are strong. No boy would have been for your father a stronger child than you are. You might not have bulging muscles, but you have the strongest heart I’ve ever seen. You’ve already overcome so much. And I believe you’ll continue to soar upward, free from the confines of your childhood. Keep running towards your goal. Your beautiful artwork reveals that amazing heart that beats within your chest. Your da couldn’t steal that from you. Continue to paint the world in your lovely colors.”
She had begun to calm herself. The tempest within her was dying down now. He could feel something within her coming to rest. Her breathing became more even. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest now. She sighed against his throat, her breath stirring him.
“Do you have anyone? Is there anyone in your life who is always there for you? Who you can count on when you’re in trouble or sad or lonely?”
She shook her head. “No. I am all alone here. In France. There. In Ireland. It’s all the same. No one knows my heart…I’ve never told anyone what I just shared with you.”
And it felt like she had just dropped the world from off her shoulders. She’d always been afraid to let that secret out, but now in the wake of all her tears and in the safety of Jimin’s strong arms, she felt better. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly. “Thank you, Jimin. For being here. For listening. For holding me.” She pressed a kiss against the base of his throat.
Which caused a new feeling to stir within him. He tamped down on it. This wasn’t the moment for that. He tightened his arms around her. He really didn’t want to let her go.
She sniffed and pulled away from him to wipe her nose on her sleeve. “Let’s keep going. We’re almost to our bench.”
He reached for her hand, not wanting to walk one more centimeter without touching her. He’d felt bereft when she’d pulled away from him. Like they had each suddenly become the other’s shield. He needed her close by. He shook his head. He’d have to get over that. They’d be parting soon enough.
