TWENTY ONE| Explanations Need Energy | CHOI HANUEL

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"No, I can't understand what was so sensitive in joining up the two wires." I didn't mean to make him feel bad but my fingers curled around the device vehemently. "The yellow one was to be attached in the main panel and the red one, well──"

"Hanuel-ah, it's a lost cause trying to tame a clumsy guy," Uncle Mojo whiffed and smoothened Mario's hair that slept on his lap at peace. His lustrous brown hair was soft like cotton in between his fingers.

"Kim Namjoon, I had high expectations from you. But no problem, I guess that's how it was supposed to end. Ya, see you soon." After ending the call, my phone landed on the mattress.

"Why were you telling him off as if he was already engaged to Molan and was unsure about marrying her? No. I think we just bid on the wrong horse and the race is over eventually."

"We have to bring his fault in sharp focus, so next time when he chances upon us, he should know who has to avoid whose gaze."

Before I could get on my soapbox, I glanced over my shoulder and a small smile ticked my lips upwards as Somi entered through the door with a servant. The four-year-old would occasionally run toward Mario and play with him until her interest leaped to another thing, or would pat his head just like the girl who took immense care of her puppy in one of Somi's storybooks. But today, she looked sterile.

I squatted down and saw big tears brimming in her small eyes. Her face evoked a confused expression on our faces. Uncle Mojo disturbed Mario's sleep by placing him on the floor. He then watched the dog gyrate around Somi and lick her legs before springing out of the room.

"Somi, why are crying?" She melted in my arms and when I looked up at the servant, I was greeted by a large piece of paper.

She gave it in my hands solemnly. "Somi has made a drawing of herself with her Mum and . . . Dad." Suddenly that rectangular sheet outweighed the heap of the problems that I had been carrying on my shoulders so far.

Her round head thumped against my chest and I hugged her tightly. And for one moment as I flew with the spate of emotions, I found myself molding in her mother's frame. "Somi, crying is not good for your health. Let's go and get your face splashed with water."

I turned to look at Uncle Mojo whose silence gave an account of how shattered his heart must have been.

"Unnie, where is Appa? Whenever I ask Eomma about him she says he doesn't exist, and never talks about him." Her rumbles from the tiny stomach and pink nose from crying shot a shiver down my spine.

"Dad exists. It's just that he is having trouble finding his way home. You know due to so many pedestrians and cars on the streets, he is taking his time," I made up a scenario and rubbed her tears with my thumbs; she shivered.

"My art teacher asked me about him and when I shook my head, the entire class laughed at me," she blubbered out and that sound pierced our eardrums. At that backdrop, she began hitting her hands involuntarily, as if I was her enemy who didn't ponder about the problem from her perspective. But, who could make her understand that I too wanted to help the feeble girl so bad? She just wanted to see her Dad in person.

Uncle Mojo who couldn't bear with the throes of suffering immediately offered her his hand and coaxed, "So, do you want to come with me and Unni to the ice cream parlor? We will buy you your favorite strawberry ice cream."

She didn't say anything, but I refuted from going, "I can't come. I just can't come with you people. I'm in my room if you need any help please call me."

He stopped before the door and warned timidly, "Hanuel, don't do anything until I return."

I hummed and my eyes became dry. As I deserted on the floor I took a look at everything in Somi's barbie themed room. She had all types of toys in that toy box, but now she required a human figure toy, who would breathe, talk and dance with her.

I breezed through the door, making my way to my room with newfound energy. I didn't have to break a sweat searching for that black file as its length peeked in between the wean novels assembled on my desk in a straight line.

Just as I opened my laptop and then searched the other candidate's name on Facebook, a senile picture ( probably after using an app) of a young man was seen giving a flying kiss in his profile picture. His background was of an epic theater stage smeared with pink color. I zoomed in on the picture in hope of finding the name of the theater, and the half letters hanging on the top gave me a slight hint of it.

I clicked a picture of it and grabbed that file as I thought about picking Eric's brain on this.

I invited myself in; for an upside-down room, I wished God to shut my eye shutters for good fifteen seconds until I drag him out of here. Second, a thought came in my head to call Taehyung's destitute neighborhood in Eric's absence, to pick any item of their utility; from a variety of things including empty ramen bowls for planting seeds to underwear for free. But my developing frustration ordered me to stay there and seek his help. "Hello? Idiot Eric? Are you there?"

I tiptoed and slammed my hands on his bathroom door. "Eric, give me a sign that you aren't dead?"

"Wait, my fart is stuck in my intestines, it would take . . ."

I turned around and covered my nose as he jutted his hips out and grasped his knees. His cheeks were puffed like two airbags closely attached.

"Eric, you fart can wait. But we have to go." I hooked his arm and his back tilted backward seemingly in a diagonal as his feet scraped the surface all along.

We were in my car, with Eric in the driver's seat looking daggers at me for most of the time when he should have his eyes on the road. "Are you serious about this? Shouldn't we take an elder with us?"

"Why? Are we going to a parent-teaching-meeting that we need any guardian in tow?" I informed him about the roadmap by checking the address multiple times on my phone. "I think, it's a right turn from that red building."

"Yeah, and this is the third time you had asked me to take a right turn from the red building. Wow." He loomed forward in protest. "I can't understand what's wrong with this stupid urgency when you can wait for Uncle Mojo to helm this task."

"You won't understand because you are a man," I nonchalantly admitted the no-nonsense thing.

"And Uncle Mojo is not? Excellent. This discovery has made me blind, now can we please swap seats? I can't drive." He flinched.

Ignoring his over-voiced conduct, I translated my thoughts into words,
"Come hell or high water. I need to acquire a get-tough policy to stop tears from forming in the little one's eyes. God, please help me."

He snapped his fingers and the moving car halted at the backside of the red building. Baffled, I waited for him to explain. "I think this is the back door to the theater as there are crops kept in the surrounding."

Rarely, did Eric speak anything useful. I slapped his arm and his chest bulged with insalubrious vanity. "C'mon let's go, little Holmes."

After parking the car a little far from the main spot, we hopped inside along with the poorly dressed laborers who carried the long wooden palisades sluggishly. We were lucky enough that nobody questioned our identities. Suddenly, Eric elbowed me in my stomach and asked, "How did he look like?"

"He uploaded an old age photo of him."

"Weirdo, you mean to say."

A slew of artists filled the corridor, repeating their lines over dramatically and cracking inside jokes. "I wish I played the prince. So, that I could at least make her feel jealous."

The short guy uttered, "Soya was your ex, right?"

"Yeah. But I'm single once again." Then all of them burst into laughter, Eric was laughing too.

I mocked at him, "Do you know them?" He shrugged and smiled in a silly manner. "Then stop acting so friendly." I pinched his ear and lightly push his head toward the wall.

Nevertheless, I asked them about him by showing his picture from the black file. They all went silent for a minute and one girl amongst them told me to search him in the makeup room. I glanced at Eric unsurely. But his eyes had been caressing the girl's face for long.

I intertwined my fingers with his and mumbled through my teeth. "C'mon, dear brother. We have an important business here."

Despite our bodies that had fallen prey to stiffness, that in brevity we hadn't searched the theater that was filled with students thoroughly, had left the only chance of finding him in there. Eric pulled me back as I was about to take to the rostrum. "Hanuel, you are not going to announce a lost child, you know?"

I jerked his hand. "Exactly. I'm going to do the same thing."

He muttered something behind me but only if my heartbeats didn't ruin my hearing sense, I would answer him back. Looking ahead, I crushed the hem of my denim jacket just as I took each high step. I could see zoomed-out sizes of people in the seating area from the top, holding scripts in their hands and some were snoozing away. Just next to me, two men were upon the ladder as they attached the artificial branches of grapevines that came out of an age-old, artistic French window.
I stood before a mic and turned it on.

With every moment passing by, my nervousness was ebbing away. I drew a final breath and began, "Mic testing 1, 2, 3 . . . aye!"

Everyone, including the troupe of those noisy boys and girls I had a word with a while ago, stared at me deathly. I averted my vision from them to nothingness. Hardly I had opened my mouth when the spotlight like a sun-ball spattered its golden light on me and I felt relaxed for a bit because I couldn't see their faces in that obfuscated room. "So, yeah, my name is Choi Haneul. I'm one of the two granddaughters of Choi Radiance Resort's founder Mr. Choi Yung Ho. Yeah, that well-known oceanfront resort. I'm nineteen years old, a misfit for a normal school-going girl who still manages to get average marks in each subject. But that surely does make my parents proud. I've been brought up in California, the place where I thought I would find my true love. But accidentally fell for someone who belongs to a different world. And I want him so bad. My sister Molan has a four-year-old intelligent daughter, who cried engulfing my leg earlier today, asking about her father . . . my blood freezes when I see her in that condition. She needs love. She needs─ you." My voice cracked, my eyes stung and my knees crashed on the hardwood like a theater curtain.

One of the girls dressed in a heavy yellow ball gown waddled and stopped near me. "Are you done with your crocodile tears? We have our play next. This is our place to practice."

The retina-frazzling spotlight was gone, and Eric helped me get on my feet. I retained my tears from falling but a single drop tainted my left cheek first and then they moisturized my skin for a minute.

I conceded defeat and wheeled toward the dead-end of the stage from where I had come up. Suddenly a man with whitish, rough hair took long curved-leg strides onward. His paper-thin fingers made an L and he focussed on my face. "You nailed it. I'm impressed with your acting skills. Which drama school did you attend?"

"Acting? Do you think I was acting all this while? Does begging for help looks like drama to you?" I somehow curbed my anger.

"Well, a popcorn bucket, coke, and a tissue paper box were missing," the other boy who approached me from behind joked.

My red eyes expanded like saucers as I pointed at him.

"You are . . ." Eric mused and the taller guy completed the sentence.

"Worldwide handsome Jin, you know." He winked and his lips formed a pout.

A/n

Wooohooo how was the teaser of Kim Seokjin? I'm so in love with him. He has a friendly-funny nature, handsome face and he's damn so much talented.
Thanks for reading and commenting! I lysm.