Mia
The cool night air felt great on my skin as I walked down the sidewalk to the karaoke bar known as Tone Deaf. I’d always found the name of this particular karaoke bar weird; it’s almost like they were taking a jab at some of their patrons. Before this, I had completely different plans. It was my much-anticipated weekend, and the last thing on my mind was to go to a karaoke bar. As I sat in my front room, completely ready to partake in a half-pint of butter pecan ice cream and watch mindless TV, Lana, my ever-zealous friend who also came with me to Korea to teach English, knocked on my door and ruined said plans.
She waltzed into my apartment at eight thirty-two that night, acting (in my personal opinion) like a fairy godmother about to dress up a future princess who wanted nothing to do with the prince or a ball, and I happened to be that person.
“Mia,” she said in a sing-song voice, “it’s time to get out of your top bun and have some fun,” she continued in her sing-song voice and finished up with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
“That’s going to have to be a big negative, Lana. I want to stay at home and watch TV, look,” I say, pointing to myself, “I even have on my fluffy pajamas.”
Lana gave me a once-over before speaking again, “Yeah, well, that can be changed,” she said, grabbing my hand, ignoring all my complaints while she dragged me to my room. Clothes flew to and fro as Lana inspected my closet. “No, no, hell no, not in this century, ah, what is this?” She held up a white crop top and a black leather jacket.
She shuffled around my closet once more until she found a pair of black jeans to go with the outfit.
“This is perfect!” She exclaimed, pulling me to my feet. “Here, change into this,” she said, handing me the clothes she picked out.
“Lana,” I began, she turned around and hummed in response, “you know as much as I love you, I’m not going out. I want to stay home; I’m tired, it’s been a long week.” I put the clothes on the bed and looked at her, hopeful, as she turned around to face me.
Now, what I wanted her to do and say was totally different than what actually came out of her mouth.
“Mia, love, you know I love you, right?”
I nodded.
“So, with that love, I have to be completely honest with you.”
“Okay, go on,” I say, removing a random sock from my lap.
Clearing her throat, she continued, “You need to sing or belt something out; you’ve been bitching non-stop this week, I feel like you have been bottling up your emotions since we left the US five years ago.”
I was a fish. Well, not literally, but as I opened and closed my mouth (like one might, I add), I could do nothing to fight her on that statement. Who was she to tell me that?
I could just…I could just-
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I have been obnoxiously cranky this week. Constantly seeing him just ugh-
No, no, Mia, we are not thinking about him.
I sigh, “Fine,” I gather the clothes she picked out. Just before I entered the bathroom, I turned to face her, “If I hate this night, you’ll hear about it in the morning.”
“Yeah, well, you can take it up with my lawyers,” she jokes, sticking her tongue out at me. We both laugh as she shoos me away while she puts up all the clothes that she’d tossed around back into my closet.
“I look like a try-hard,” I complain, stepping out of the bathroom.
“No, you don’t, you look drop-dead gorgeous,” she said as she guided me to the vanity. “Who knows, you might meet someone new after, well, you know.”
“Oh my gosh, Lana, don’t even mention him,” I pout, crossing my arms.
I could see Lana rolling her eyes in the mirror, “Mia, you can’t beat yourself up about this forever,” she says as she starts curling my hair.
“I’m not beating myself up about this at all.” I defend, “I promise.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope, not at all.”
One of her arched eyebrows raises, “So, you’re telling me that you didn’t Insta-stalk him today? No likes on photos, no comments, no accidental DM’s, nothing.”
Nope
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, right,” she mumbled under her breath. “You know,” she starts, “I bet I can tell you which photo you liked.”
“Lana, I didn’t like-”
“It was the gym photo he just posted.”
“No,” I say, my voice rising at the end.
“Mia Delphine Dallenworth, you little liar, you did like one of his photos, you little Insta-stalker you,” she teased, moving away just as I reached out to poke her side.
“Shut-up, okay. Stop calling me an Insta-stalker; besides, I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Oh, so you just happened to be on Instagram and you just happened to “accidentally” tap your thumb over the heart button on his photo. Yeah, I’ll believe that when pigs fly.”
“Well, it didn’t happen like that. I was scrolling along and my thumb accidentally grazed it, but I quickly un-liked it,” I say with a shrug.
“Yeah, right,” Lana says, setting the curling iron down on the vanity, “There, you’re done. Now you just need some gloss.”
I open up one of the drawers on the vanity and pull out a tinted lip gloss, the dark red color making my lips look shiny and kissable. With a smack of my lips and the right type of shoes, we head out of the condo, ready to sing the night away.
“Hurry up, slow-poke, this place doesn’t stay open all night,” Lana says, walking backwards down the sidewalk.
“Watch where you’re going,” I chide her, as I step around a pile of puke on the ground; gross. “Besides, it’s like nine at night, the karaoke bar doesn’t close until two in the morning. We have time.” I say, pulling the jacket closer.
After stepping into the chic-looking building, we paid for an hour session and ordered our favorite drinks for Lana, something light, a simple beer; I chose two shots of Jack. I was never into beer; the smell always reminded me of pee, and the one time that I tasted it, well…you know. Lana searched through the catalog; her first choice was a karaoke classic, ‘I Will Survive’ By Gloria Gaynor.
After what seemed like hours, Lana finally finished three songs: ‘Fireflies’ by Owl City, ‘Mr. Brightside’ by The Killers and her drunken version of 2NE1′s ‘I Don’t Care,’ and now it was my turn. I skimmed through the list of songs; the first one I chose was ‘Wannabe’ by The Spice Girls. I knew Lana couldn’t resist, and soon enough, she was also singing along with me.
I must have been going crazy because as I looked to my left, I could swear that the room’s door was slightly cracked.
Was there someone staring at me?
As I picked my next song, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at me.
Jinyo- no, no, it can’t be.
Once again, I shook the feeling off and settled on something easy and familiar, ‘Lies’ by BigBang.
My eyes cut to the left. Is the door open?
As I sang, my eyes kept instinctively going to the door. There is definitely someone watching me. Right?
It’s just Lana. Just as the chorus comes up again, I wave off the feeling and chalk it up to lack of sleep, which I would get once I made it back home. But as I looked to the left again, I could clearly see the door closing abruptly and his voice, Jiyo. He was here, in the flesh.
“You’re right, let’s go. The last thing I want to do is scare her off.” His voice sounded muffled as if he were walking down the hall.
Great. Just great. I came here to not only relieve myself of stress but also to limit interactions with his stupid, handsome face. It doesn’t help that he’s here in the same building.
I skimmed through the songs again; this time, I would fully take Lana’s advice and belt something out, for that, with passion in my lungs, I sang ‘Since You’ve Been Gone’ by Kelly Clarkson.
Lana finished six beers by the time we’d left the karaoke bar. I was currently holding her heavy, unstable body up as we waited for the cab to arrive.
“Damn it, who told you to drink over your limit?” I said, adjusting her on my shoulder, “You complained about me bitching this whole week. Just look at you, you’re going to tell me all about this when you sober up.” I complained, adjusting her once more.
Lana’s drunken voice suddenly bellowed out a verse from “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls, on the busy sidewalk, then, as if she were possessed, she giggled like a schoolgirl. Her drunken outburst had a whole crowd of people on the sidewalk staring at us as if we were aliens from another planet.
How embarrassing.
“Be quiet!” I snapped as she broke out in another fit of giggles. Sweet relief washed over me as I saw the cab slowly starting to drive up. “Come on, Lana, let’s get you into the car.” I hoist her up more as I struggle to open the cab’s door.
Lana’s drunken habits, when she goes over her limit, haven’t changed since high school. Back then, when we used to sneak her parents’ liquor, she’d puke, sober up a little, eat something, shower, and then get in bed and go to sleep. I helped her out of the cab and led her to her condo’s lobby door. She haphazardly punched in some numbers and gave me a salute, before walking her happily drunken ass into her building. “This girl.” I chuckled as I watched her get on the elevator.
Slowly, I turned around and started to walk away. Tonight was a beautiful night. Five more stars shone brightly in the light-polluted Seoul skyline. It was 10:15 at night, and I figured I’d take a stroll; maybe now would be a good time to catch a movie. I hadn’t been to one in a while, and there were a couple I wanted to see. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to enjoy a movie because of the fear of a sudden flash or almost getting run over by a crowd of screaming fans. This was nice.
I chose a romantic comedy, one that I’d seen trailers for lately. I ordered a Sprite and a medium tub of caramel popcorn before making my way into the theater room. Just as I get settled, having shoved two handfuls of caramel popcorn in my mouth, I spot a figure with a white t-shirt and jeans looking around before his eyes settle on me.
My attempts at willing him away do nothing as he smiles and continues his stride towards me. As he nears, I give him a look that says: ”So you’ve decided to stop staring at me at the karaoke bar to look at me personally in the movies,” a weak attempt to get him to leave that failed in the end.
