Hyeong-Jun slid open the apartment’s security gate and unlocked the front door, only to freeze.
The lights were already on, suffusing the space with a warm yellow glow while the clink of dishes and silverware, touched the air.
On the day of the anniversary, it could only be one person.
“Halmeoni1?”
The clinking paused before someone peaked around the corner of the kitchen nook. His grandmother’s eyes curved with sadness as soon as she saw him, like she was seeing someone else in Hyeong-Jun’s place. Hyeong-Jun couldn’t help noticing the black clothes that were at odds with her typical dashes of colour. Her always neatly curled hair looked just a touch less coiffed than usual.
There was a strange comfort in seeing his parents absence still physically reflected in someone other than himself. He wasn’t the only one who missed them.
“Hyeong-Jun-ah, how are you, love?” She came over and held his face in her hands, as if it would help her judge his condition better.
“I’m fine,” he said even as his mind jumped back to the rejection, the call, the… Hyeong-Jun shook his head. “You said you’d only be coming by tomorrow,” he hurried to change the subject.
“I thought you might need some extra support today, love,” his grandmother said it easily. Even though it was impossible, it was almost as if she’d known about the audition, had known that Hyeong-Jun would be rejected and unable to stand the idea of staying alone tonight －going to his parents alone tonight.
Hyeong-Jun reached up, cupping the soft old hands still holding his face, and squeezing them lightly. He forced a thin smile.
His grandma returned it.
“Have you being managing with the moving? I know the lease is expiring soon. Do you need me to bring some food for you once you’ve settled in to a new place?”
Hyeong-Jun startled slightly.
Right.
WSM Entertainment was no longer the safety-net he’d thought it would be.
He needed to find a new place to stay. “No, I’ll be okay, halmeoni.” Hyeong-Jun hoped his expression didn’t given him away.
His grandmother watched him for a moment more, as if she hadn’t seen him in years. Then she patted his cheek.
“Now, hurry and go take a shower, I know its late but I made some lunch before we go.”
The stress of the day seemed to have eaten away his hunger. It was too early. Still, he nodded.
“I’ll take this, you go wash up.” His grandmother placed his bag on the couch and ushered him to his room.
The hot water went a long way in unknotting his shoulders and soothing tired muscles. The faint rustling from his grandmother bustling about the apartment, became white noise.
By the time he stepped back into the living room, he felt closer to being human, less disconnected. Still, a tinge of guilt sprung up in the space the haze had left behind.
“Hyeong-Jun-ah.” A chill ran across Hyeong-Jun’s skin. His grandmother’s voice sounded strange, a strain that he’d only heard in the first year after is parents’ death.
“Halmeoni? Is everything okay?” She was standing with her back to him, right next to his bag.
“Where did you get this?” Her voice was tight and breathless.
Hyeong-Jun hurried across the room to peer over her shoulder.
Clutched in her hand to the point of bending, was the card Choi SongHua had given him.
Hyeong-Jun paled.
She waited.
What could he say? Ghosts?
“I-I had an audition today.” He froze. The words had slipped out before he could think them through.
This wasn’t how she was supposed to find out. She’d drawn a line in the sand five years ago. No idol life. But he couldn’t not.
He’d kept it a secret for so long and now his grandmother had found out right after his rejection.
The reply was met with a dead silence that Hyeong-Jun couldn’t stand
“You know it’s always been my dream to be like abeoji2.”
“No.”
His grandmother turned around, steel in her eyes.
“I absolutely forbid it.”
“Why? It’s not like it’s dangerous. And I’m actually really good at it,” the words rang hollow with the rejection from earlier still looming over him. Not to mention the conversation he’d had with Choi SongHua afterwards.
He recoiled from the thought.
It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous.
“We’re not having this discussion,” she moved past him back to the stove.
“Why not? this is ridiculous. It’s not like I’ve been reckless. Besides the apartment, I’ve been paying for all my own living expenses and putting in the work.”
His grandmother whirled back around, anger deepening her brows.
“What do you know about this?” she waved the card around as if it had offended her, almost crumpling it in her grip.
“It’s an entertainment company that wants to recruit me.” Hyeong-Jun replied helplessly, raising his hands in front of him as if it would somehow help her calm down.
“What did they want from you?”
Hyeong-Jun could only stare, at a loss, but his grandmother’s gaze didn’t let up.
“Don’t worry halmeoni, it’s not a scam, the company’s really well-known.”
“Are you telling me they didn’t ask anything else of you?”
Hyeong-Jun could only stare as her words slowly sank in. But the threads refused to come together.
“Halmeoni, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well if that’s the case, find someplace else. I don’t care who, but you can’t join this company.”
She ripped the card in pieces and threw it in the trash.
Hyeong-Jun watched the papery puzzle pieces fall.
***
The trees rustled with a refreshing breeze as Hyeong-Jun and his grandmother made their way through the cemetery in the later afternoon.
Hyeong-Jun kept his pace slow. His left arm was hooked through the handle of a picnic basket that had flowers, incense sticks and some candles in it. His grandmother leaned her weight slightly on his right, a crutch as they navigated the uneven ground.
The usually soothing quiet of the cemetery set Hyeong-Jun’s nerves on edge. He found himself glancing over his shoulder multiple times as they went.
Still, the cemetery remained undisturbed.
His grandmother’s hand on his arm was cold stone instead of the usual warm comfort, her words from earlier weighing Hyeong-Jun down.
Finally they reached the shared headstone, his grandmother breathing a sigh of relief as she sat down on a bench nearby. Hyeong-Jun gladly distracted himself with unpacking the basket.
Once done, he helped his grandmother up again and she moved to stand with a hand on the gravestone. Hyeong-Jun knelt in front of it, hands fisted in his lap.
“Eomma3, appa4, I-I’m sorry. I wanted to have some good news to tell you. I didn’t make the audition. There was someone who offered me a position, but I don’t think I can take that either.” Hyeong-Jun glanced at his grandmother as he said this, but her aging ears didn’t seem to pick up on it. He refocused his attention on the headstone.
Still her words rang in his mind. For the first time in his life, there seemed to be an invisible barrier keeping him from reaching out to her.
“...not after what happened two nights ago,” the words slipped out, an impulse.
His grandmother jerked, eyes going wide as their gazes met.
So she had heard him.
“You know,” Hyeong-Jun accused. It was stupid. What could she know? How could she know?
His grandmother took a step back, as if a physical force had pushed her － though with what he knew now that could very well be the case.
“Hyeong-Jun-ah,” it was a warning and a plea.
“What’s wrong with that group? Why can’t I join them?” Hyeong-Jun pled right back.
She gripped the headstone as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. Guilt swelled in Hyeong-Jun’s chest. Should he stop?
But he couldn’t, it was one thing to give up the opportunity but why couldn’t he at least have the choice?
“You never had an issue when it was abeoji, why can’t I do it now?”
His grandmother shook her head as if trying to shake away his words.
“They wouldn’t want that.” Her expression was grim.
“Why?”
Silence.
“There has to be a reason,” Hyeong-Jun continued to press.
His grandmother straightened slightly, lips pursed.
He could almost see the walls rising.
“Does it have something to do with ghosts?” he threw out, desperate to stop them.
His grandmother became stone right next to his parents. Her eyes showed too much of the whites around her irises as she stared at him.
“You-you’ve seen them?” her voice was too thin, like it might be blown away by the wind. It was too different from what Hyeong-Jun had ever heard from her. Even with half of his heart expecting it, it still stunned him.
He took one step back. Another.
Then he was sitting on the ground.
His grandmother wouldn’t meet his gaze. She simply stared at his parents’ headstone as if in search of guidance.
The coldness of the grass had started to soak into Hyeong-Jun’s jeans and the silence had long become a physical weight before she spoke.
“How do you think they died in the first place?” the bitter words cut the air.
Footnote:
1. Halmeoni - grandmother
2. Abeoji - word used when referring to a father, or as a formal word for father.
3. Eomma - mom
4. Appa - dad
