Attempt 3: The Chase

And you’d think he’d walk a bit slower just because we’re heading in the same direction, but no, the man is a lone wolf. He is a ninja, I tell myself over and over again. Okay, it doesn’t really help that I tried to play it cool and packed up faster than him. To be honest, he was packing up way slower than before. Was he even waiting for me? I don’t know, but in the end, he surpasses me, leaving me either to look pathetic and sprint after him or to look very normal but secretly upset that we’re not walking together.

 Let’s put it this way. Either way, I am very, very idiotic. Who in the world doesn’t know a guy’s name? Huh? After chatting for at least five minutes, I still did not ask for his name. I didn’t even say goodbye or say see you because I thought I’d be mysterious for once. Jesus, that article is totally wrong. Why guys like bitches? Because they’re mysterious? Because they don’t give themselves away? Because they make the guy get the thrill of the chase?  

I want to sob aloud, and I’m sure I do because this girl is staring at me with a petrified look. She kind of makes me want to bark at her for the sake of making her run away from me. Instead, I hand her a what-are-you-looking-at stare. Exactly. Piss off. Run. Yes, go run to your next class and never see me again. Go, go ahead.

Oh shoot! 

He’s completely out of sight! I’m ahead of him now, but that’s only because I’m sure he made a detour. He made a detour, but to where? 

Okay, okay, since I have decided to be a cool cat, I’m going to walk this path alone. Yes, forever alone . . .

Now, I am very happy that the traffic lights are not turning green because then, he might show up out of nowhere, or so I think. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I think I see someone familiar. I’m exactly right. It’s none other than Choi Jihwan.

Choi Jihwan is someone I’d call that’s either very feminine or gay. I’m just not sure what, and I don’t really want to guess. I know it’s rude to ask too. Trust me, I have several gay friends and am totally open to their relationships. I just wonder if he’s gay or straight every time I see him. Either he’s very popular with the ladies, meaning that he’s a pimp or he’s one of the ladies . . . Mind boggling. Very. And when he opens his mouth to speak, it’s even more . . .

“Oh hi Haera!” he greets me with a meager smile and in a high-pitched, squeaky tone. “How was your winter break?”

“Oh it was good,” I tell him. “How was yours?”

“Good.”

“Yeah, so about our volunteer committee,” I begin to inform him of his recent concern, “I think we should contact Heechul soon.” 

Jihwan recently texted me to complain about how our group wasn’t doing anything, and I agree with him there that ti’s frustrating. After all that interviewing to get a spot on this committee, we end up doing nothing that lets us put this experience on a resume. I know Jihwan is the sort that will want, as he calls it, “shit done”.

“Yeah, like I totally agree,” he voices. “It’s just so like frustrating that nothing has been happening. You know, we have to get shit done, if you know what I mean.” 

He’s eyeing me like a mischievous lady would when she wants a glass of wine or maybe pudding. I can’t help but let that thought whizz by in my mind: he’s gay. He’s gay!

See? There’s this curse that I think I have. Whoever I think is a good guy usually turns out to be gay. I almost got seduced by a charming gay guy once. He was called Noe Inhyuk. I thought he was metrosexual, and to be honest, he was pretty cute, reminded me of those ulzaangs who are extremely skinny yet masculine at the same time. Yup, he sure did know his fashion. He even told me that I’d never get Dior or Chanel. That . . . made me . . . mad, sad, upset and shocked. What was worse was that this was the first time I had found a guy attractive in such a long time, and he just happened to have to be gay. I’m pretty sure he told me he was gay because he knew I’d blush or feel nervous around him. Great.

Good thing Jihwan has a moustache. Moustaches turn me off. Good thing Mr. Ninja exists or else I might just meet another gay guy to crush on. But wait . . . could Mr. Ninja be gay?
No! No! No! He can’t be. His voice is so sexily nerdy. Then again, that’s not . . . a good reason to think that he’s not gay. My brain is not working. My brain is being politically incorrect in all ways. Please . . . just . . . forgive me . . .

“Ugh, Haera,” Jihwan mutters.

“What?” I snap at him for interrupting my thoughts.

“You’re going off the sidewalk and onto grass.”

Melt me. Seriously, someone just melt me like how that witch died in the Wizard of Oz. How much more do I have to embarrass myself? Still, I take in a deep breath, straighten my back and walk coolly beside Jihwan as we cross the street together. 

“Anyways, I thinking of emailing him to tell him that we’re willing to step up to help promote what we do,” I suggest. “I mean students would want to discuss their problems with others about stress and grades right?”

 “I know, right?”

“Yes, so I’m thinking that I’ll shoot him an email and propose that we also create a website for this,” I carry on explaining.

“Sounds good.”

Can you believe it? We’re already at the door, and there’s a lady who still can’t get her key to open the front door. Really, you are unprepared woman. You should know better, I think. You get out your key before you open that first door. Then, you plug your key into that hole. So simple . . . yet I completely forget about it myself and there goes Jihwan unlocking the door for all of us.

Shucks, I’m getting old. Can’t even multitask properly.

“Thank you,” I utter. “Yeah, so I’m thinking that I’ll be done this week, and I’ll send you a message beforehand. You can approve of it and add whatever that’s necessary and then . . .”
There’s Mr. Ninja! He’s speeding by with a large bottle of coke and what seems like a McDonald’s paper bag in his hand. So, he went to get dinner. He eats early like me! Oh my god we have more in common than I think! But wait! He didn’t even hear me or see me! What is this? Why? Why oh why? Oh wait, he turns right, meaning that he lives on that side of the hall. Oh goodness gracious, why am I such a stalker? Huh?

“Haera?”

“Yeah, you can give me an email back, and I’ll send it off to Heechul,” I finish my thought.
“Awesome! Thanks!” Jihwan utters. “And I’ll text you if I need anything!”

Oh yes, even I have Mr. Possibly Gay’s number, and from what I remember, I think I asked for it first! If I can ask for his number, then why can’t I even ask for Mr. Ninja’s details? Huh? Huh? If I could survey those people without worrying much, then why does Mr. Ninja get my heart racing? 

Let me get this straight. I don’t even know his name. How is it even possible for me to be falling for him? Impossible. Just crazily impossible . . .

I hear that familiar ring tone of mine and see that it’s my little sister, Yura. Without thinking much, I put her on speaker phone and answer, “Yeah, what’s up?”

I press the button to the elevators and the doors open to my right. Then, Yura shouts as I enter, “So have you gotten laid yet?”

“What?” I scream and realize that there’s an exchange student, either from India or from Britain, chuckling at me. She’s trying her best not to laugh some more, but I know that it’s no use. This is funny . . . to her.
 
“Okay fine,” Yura goes on asking, “have you gotten kissed yet?”

I gulp down whatever saliva I have left, and look ahead. Don’t look to your neighbour. It’s already humiliating enough and to make my luck worse, this lady lives on the eighth floor, the highest one there is for this building. Great.

“Why of course I have had a kiss,” I tell her and quickly cancel her off of the speaker phone.

“Don’t lie to me sis! I know your dating record and it’s zero to none!” Yura shrieks too loudly that I have to hold the phone away from my ear.

Still, I play it cool. “Stop it Yura, you know how many guys I’ve dated,” I inform her. “And please, we did more than just kiss. This guy was fucking hot!”

“I think you’re crazy sis. I think you’re being delusional. You’re probably so sexually unsatisfied or suppressed that you’re imagining things.”

“What?” I blurt out. “I am not sexually unsatisfied nor am I sexually suppressed! Okay? I get enough sex like an average college girl should!”

I accidentally glance to my right and this time, the lady is in complete disbelief. I don’t blame her, okay? It’s not every day that you get to hear someone’s sexual life in the elevator. Good thing she doesn’t live on my floor. Thank the heavens there.

Yura now interrupts my thoughts and asks, “Fine, maybe you don’t tell me about your escapades, but how’s it going with Mr. Nina? Did you get into his pants then?”

Luckily for me, the elevator doors open for my floor and out I casually walk. Once the doors close, I’m running like Mr. Ninja would until I reach my apartment. Then, I unlock the door and bolt to my own room only to realize that that’s locked too. God damn it.

“I just talked to him once!” I scream into the phone. “Of course I did not get into his pants! And you’re too young to be saying that, Yura! You’re still a high school student for heaven’s sake!”

“I’m a junior and Kimbum and I will be having sex on Valentine’s Day.”

“What?” I almost drop my backpack onto the ground. Yup, I just did. “What are you talking about? That’s so young!”

“That is not young. That’s completely normal, and we’ve been dating for a year now.”

“Did he force you into this?”

“No, I told him I wanted it.”

“What?” I snap at her. “Why are you so perverted?”

“Hey!” Yura argues. “I am not perverted. This is perfectly normal. You’re just the one that’s never turned on. Sometimes I wonder if you’re asexual.”

“You’re using the term wrong there, Yura,” I scold her. “Asexual means that you sexually reproduce by yourself, and you see with humans, you cannot—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Yura cuts me off. “I know, but seriously if you could reproduce by yourself, I’m sure you would.”

“That is not true! I just haven’t found the right guy yet.”

“Well I think Mr. Ninja is the one,” she proclaims rather certainly.

“But that’s what you say with every guy that I meet!”

Yura admits, “Yeah, but you have to give each one an equal chance, right?”

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “I think I’m going to hang up.”

“Wait! Wait!”

Finally, someone uses that phrase on me. Mph, should I wait for her to speak? Fine, blood relations surpasses all. “All right, state your case,” I settle on saying.

Yura clears her throat before questioning, “So did you, at least, get his number?”
 
“No!”

“What’s his name anyways?”

“I don’t know his name!”

“What? How the fuck do you not know his name?” she started to giggle like a hyena telling a leopard to go away. “This is so hilarious! I’m going to tell Mom about this! Wait till she laughs her head off with me!”

“Well, I’m going to tell Mom that you’re going to screw with Kimbum on Valentine’s Day!”

“Too bad, she already knows,” Yura taunts. “She even said she’d give me condoms and suggests that I should go on the pill if I’m going to be sexually active.”

Then, I just hang up.

. . .

Really. I don’t know what to say except to insert ellipses. I don’t know what’s wrong with my sister or my mother. How can my mom encourage my baby sister to have sex at such a young age? I’m close to twenty, I still haven’t gone on a date. I haven’t had a kiss yet. I haven’t held a guy’s hand besides from dancing in physical education class. That’s different! The only hand that I’ve ever held of the opposite sex was my dog’s paw. This is crazy.  

It’s not like I look ugly. Seriously, I hear a few guys complimenting on my appearance when I walk by the hallway. I have my earphones on so they think they can’t hear me, but little do they know that I can hear everything. I love using this trick to eavesdrop. Very educational. Very fun.

So, if I’m not ugly, then . . . it’s my personality? But I’m not a bitch! Maybe that’s the issue. I have to be bitchy, but I tried a bit of it today, and it didn’t really work out. Maybe I have to be really gentle, meek and feminine. That’ll work . . . no, the thought of being like that forever gives me goosebumps. 

I think, I think I just have to try again. I’ll learn his name first, and if I like his name, then we’ll see. If his name is sexy too, like Viktor, Luc, or Alexander, then I’ll hunt him down for sure. Oh, in case you’re wondering why he has an English name, well let’s just say that he’s pale, very pale and has brown hair. He also has greenish hazelnut eyes. Oh, I’m sure you can name his ethnicity.

Not Asian . . . which really makes me wonder why I’m attracted to him in the first place?
I really go for Asian guys. I don’t mind other ethnicities, but I’m not attracted to them. Bodily hair is one of them. Asian guys have less hair or barely any hair on their chest. Chest hair scares me, so why is Mr. Ninja appealing to me?

I’m pretty sure I checked out his arms before. Not much hair. Not much beard hair either.
Oh, and did I mention that he just so happens to look like a model? 

Yeah, I think that’s why he’s becoming my muse.
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