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Chapter 3: You Leave Me Weeping – September 6, 2019

She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes.  This was the one time each day she stole a few minutes to herself.  Away from the mocking eyes of the boys as their gazes flicked over, first, her broken face and, second, her fleshy body.  What they didn’t know was that she’d gained the weight on purpose.  To keep them away.  Not that it always worked.

She thought of Jimin’s beautiful, roaming eyes.  And shuddered.  

She’d managed to avoid him for the past two days.  The problem was they had to evaluate each other’s progress before Monday.  But she’d been running late this morning.  And then her tutoring session had started exactly three minutes after their class.  Which had been running past time.  She’d had to fly.  Without so much as a word to him.  Which relieved her.  

Except for the project.

She pulled out her phone and glanced at it.  Three-fifty-nine.  She pulled up her contact list.  And stared at his name.  

Jimin.  

She sighed.  Perhaps she could borrow one of her friends’ phones and call him.  Then he wouldn’t have her number.

“Hey.”

She closed her phone as, startled, she jumped.  Her eyes found his.  How had Jimin known where she was hiding?  

Great. 

This was her refuge.  If he continued to seek her out here, she’d have to give it up.  She frowned at such a sacrifice.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he asked as she frowned at him.  For, like, the umpteenth time.

“I don’t hate you.”

But it wasn’t true.  She did.  She despised him.  For looking up her skirt.  For trying to lure her to his house.  And for having eyes that persisted in being so beautiful.

But they were lying eyes.  Hiding a monster.

“Whatever,” he blew out an annoyed breath before plopping his guitar case down next to her.  “Look.  I know you don’t want to work with me, but I need the easy A this class should be.  So I’ll just play my song for you, and you can fill out the review form.  Then if you want, I’ll come listen to your song.  Wherever.  Whenever.  And I’ll fill out your form.”

She nodded.  Dumbfounded.  

He seemed serious about his grade.

He opened his case and pulled out his guitar.  She stared at it.  It was the most beautiful guitar she’d ever seen.  It had a magnificent design carved into it.  Her eyes traced it lovingly.

“That’s a gorgeous guitar,” she breathed.  “Where did you get it?”

“It was my appa’s,” he murmured almost silently.

She had to strain to hear him.

He pulled it into his lap and began to strum the strings a few times.  Then he tuned it.

“Look,” she commented irritably, “I don’t have all day.”

He was already encroaching on her alone time.  And she resented it.  She did.

“Okay, okay.  I just wanted to make sure it was tuned so you don’t dock my grade for a bad sound.”

She grunted before leaning back and closing her eyes.

Then the most beautiful music she’d ever heard released from another human being flowed over her senses.  She was drowning in that melody.  Gasping for air.  It was stunning!  She found herself breathless.

She daren’t open her eyes lest he see how much his music was affecting her now.  Also, she wanted to block out all else but that mesmerizing sound.  She dove all in to that captivating music.  Immersed herself in its waters until she was overcome.  Who needed to breathe anyway?  Breathing was overrated.

Nervously, Jimin glanced up.  But he was transfixed by the look of rapture on her countenance.  His fingers continued to play the melody his heart knew, but his eyes roved over her beautiful face.  It seemed to him that her crooked nose just enhanced her beauty.  It drew attention to the perfection of her eyes and her lips.  He savored her beauty while he finished playing his song.

When he was done, he put his guitar away.  He reached inside his backpack and pulled out the review form.  He held it out to her, but she was still hiding behind her eyelids.

“Hey.  Did you fall asleep?” he asked brusquely.

She opened her eyes. 

Were those tears flooding her eyes?

“Can you just fill out this form right now?  Then I won’t bug you anymore.  At least, not until I have to.”

She reached for it.  Her fingers brushed his, and they both jumped back from each other, but her hand carried the paper with it.  She dug through her purse looking for a pen.

“Let me guess,” Jimin intoned dryly. “You need a pen.”

She didn’t even look at him.  “I’m sure I have one in here.”

She was always losing them!  Where did they go?

He held one out to her.  She grasped it and filled out the sheet.  Then she folded it in half and handed it, along with his pen, back to him.

Then she jumped up and swung her backpack over her shoulder.  “See you around.”

“Hey!”

She stopped; though, she didn’t look back.

“When do you want me to listen to you play the piano?”

She glanced down at him.  “Put your stuff away and follow me right now.”  

She didn’t want him to read her critique until she was long gone.  With a sigh, he shoved the paper and pen into his backpack before tossing it over his shoulder and picking up his guitar case.

“Where to?”

—

They entered the empty music room.  The baby grand sat off in the far corner.  She made a beeline for it.  Jimin found an empty chair and sat down in it.  He watched her intently as she dropped her backpack on the floor before seating herself before the impressive instrument.

A few moments later, Jimin’s mouth fell open as her fingers coaxed the most beautiful melody from the keys.  He sat, again transfixed, as he stared at her in stupefaction.  She couldn’t play the piano a little.  The girl was a…virtuoso!  Or was it virtuosa?

This freshman had mastered that enormous instrument!  She didn’t belong in Music Theory any more than he did.  He was struck dumb.  Had he ever heard anyone play that beautifully?  

Maybe one person.  Eunji’s brother, Yoongi.  The man was a master on the piano.  But so was this bitter girl.  

In fact, Jimin could almost like her when she was caressing the keys of a piano.  How strange.

––

She blocked him out.  It was the only way she could play.  She had learned to block them all out.  To simply concentrate on the keys.  And the sounds flowing from them.  Then she could open up her heart and let the melodies out.  

Her fingers chased each other up and down that keyboard.  Chords exploding from their tips.  And all the while, her eyes were closed.  Then she could pretend she was alone with the piano.  Just her and her first love.  Her only love.

But she wouldn’t think such sobering thoughts as she played.  She would think only of how much she loved the tinkling of the piano keys and the smooth, cool texture of them beneath her fingertips.  How many hot summers had she spent locked in an air-conditioned room while her fingers caressed those ivory and ebony keys?

Her one solace.  Her only true friend.  The piano had never betrayed her.  It consistently gave back all she put into it.  

Unlike the people around her.  

Her only fulfilling relationship was this one right here.  With a keyboard.  And some strings.

She sighed as she played the closing bars.  Then her fingers stilled on the keys.  And she steeled herself for his inevitable reaction.

She had only ever played for one other boy.  Him.  But she had blotted him out.  Of her heart.  Out of her memory.  At least, she had tried.  But memories were more difficult to let loose of than feelings.

Here it comes.  Here is when he begins to ridicule every little thing.  He’ll pick at this and poke at that until he’s unraveled my entire song.  And robbed the joy from it.

She reached into her bag and yanked the review form from her binder.  She ran over to him and tossed it into his lap.  She wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to destroy her joy in this song.

“Fill it out.  I’ll be back.  I need to go to the bathroom.  You can just leave it on the seat.  You don’t need to wait for me to return.”

Then, she was gone.  She stayed away until she saw him open the door and peek around before walking down the hallway.  He’d waited fifteen minutes for her to return before giving up.

—

She’d never returned.  He felt oddly disappointed.  Why did he want to tell her how amazing she was?  

That snobby, little know-it-all.  That snooty freshman.  

Yet.

He’d wanted to tell her that she had a rare gift that made him want to weep with joy.  He’d actually written that in the comments section of the review form.  He grimaced now as he thought of it.  Would she think he was kidding?  Or would she believe him?

As he headed for his car, he suddenly remembered that she had also filled out a paper for him.  He reached in and pulled it out of his backpack.  And was astounded at what she had written.  She’d given him all top marks.  In every single category.  The comments section had only three words.

“I love it.”

Her words washed over him with a pleasing warmth.  Unexpected.  All the sweeter for the shock with which they provided him.  Jumi, the snobby girl who hated him, loved his music.  

Why did he feel like crying?  He had never really shared his music with anyone.  Except Tae.  Who was always urging him to share it with others.  But he’d just figured Tae was being kind.  But, maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been.

Jumi loved his music.

Jimin found himself sporting a grin that nothing would erase for the remainder of that day.

Did her words mean even more to him because he knew she hated him?  She wasn’t biased in his favor, but rather against it.  But, despite her prejudice, she had still loved the melody flowing from his fingers into his guitar strings.

Yep.  He was happy.

—

She picked up the paper off the chair he’d occupied and sat down in it herself.  She sighed as her eyes fearfully glanced at the review form.  His handwriting was pleasing.  A very neat penmanship that was completely legible.  He’d given her the highest marks in every category.  Save one.  Volume.  He’d remarked that he would like it to be a bit louder.

She grimaced.  Of course, he would!  He listened to K-pop not classical music!

But it was his comment at the bottom that blew her away and made her burst into tears.  She’d been steeling herself against his criticism.  But she had done nothing to prepare herself for his appreciation.

“I have no words.  You are a…”

What?  She couldn’t bring herself to read it for a few moments.  She’d closed her eyes to block it – and all the other criticism she’d received over many years – out of her mind.  But she finally forced herself to read the next word.  After all, her teacher was going to see it.  She might as well find out how bad it was before she turned it in.

“…virtuoso.  You left me breathless.  You have a rare gift.  It makes me want to weep with joy.”

Those tender words did strange things to her heart.  At first, she stared at them in shock.  Disbelieving.  The instant she’d finally absorbed them, she burst into tears.