Three Times A Day
Yeji is at her dance practice for the first time since her parents restricted her. As they said they had dropped her off outside the dance studio and said that they were going to be there when the class ends. To be honest Yeji is happy that they didn’t take her out of the class completely. That must mean they still love her, right?
Nonetheless, dancing has the same effect on her, taking her into her sacred zone where nothing from the outside world has any impact or meaning. It’s a total bliss and harmony. She is also glad to see Chaeryeong, the friend that doesn’t know her family, classmates or fate. With Chaeryeong she can be the part of herself which is not yet infected by any poison, and that too is an escape much needed right now. When they greet each other with a hug Yeji holds on a bit longer than usual. Chaeryeong only laughs about the extended hug and smiles heartfully. The cherish face of her friend helps to lighten up Yeji’s mood and makes room for her to breathe. If she only could spend the rest of her days like this, then nothing would be a burden anymore.
Time passes and the dance practice is declared as finished, a few minutes before it’s supposed ending time. As usual Chaeryeong stays behind a few more minutes to continue stretching. Yeji throws a glance at the clock on the wall. She still has five more minutes until she has to be outside and get into her parent’s car. Her parents, just the thought of them is enough for the lump of uneasiness to expand inside of her. She can feel the wrinkles spread over her forehead as the emotion drags her deeper down into the dark hole.
“Are you alright?” Chaeryeong suddenly says and looks up at Yeji from where she’s stretching on the floor.
“What?” Yeji is quickly drawn back up to the surface. “I’m fine, just a bit tired.”
Chaeryeong looks at her without saying anything. Then she gets up and smiles softly. “Okay then, shall we leave?”
Yeji nods and they leave the studio to go get their bags in the locker room. They walk side by side in silence. Chaeryeong opens the door into the dark evening and Yeji properly thanks her. Yeji’s parents’ car is parked in one of the parking lots. Yeji can see both her parents sitting inside of it. When just a few meters away from them Yeji stops. Chaeryeong walks a few more steps before stopping as well. She turns around and raises her eyebrows as to ask what’s going on.
“My parents are picking me up today.” Yeji smiles weakly and makes a gesture towards the car.
“Oh, okay. Well see you next time.” Chaeryeong moves closer and leans in for a hug. This time however, Yeji does not hug her as tight and makes the whole gesture pass quickly. Her body is tense not only by the evening cold but also because her parents’ eyes are directed at her. Is this how her future is going to look like? Being monitored by her parents like she is some kind of criminal in jail? She must do something about this.
Yeji waves of Chaeryeong and takes a seat in the back of the car. Her parents immediately turn around to face her. With a firm looking face her father opens his mouth.
“Who was that girl?”
Yeji puts on the seat belt and a clicking sound is heard. “It was Chaeryeong. The girl who aspires to become a professional dancer. I think I’ve told you about her before. She’s so sweet and caring, and such a hard worker. You should know how many hours she spends on dancing every week.” Yeji babbles like there is no tomorrow, she can’t stand the tension, has to find a way to loosen up, make them loosen up.
“Don’t ever touch her again.” Donjun stares at his daughter. “Do you understand me? You are not allowed to touch any girl under any circumstances.”
Yeji feels the tension being replaced by a flood of tears. Her father really means what he’s saying, the tone of his voice and his determined eyes tells her so. He has never scolded her like this before, she’s not used to it. Every scolding word is like a strike in her facade, which can’t hold up forever. Especially not if it doesn’t get any time to restore itself.
She lets her gaze fall. “Yes, father.”
“We have booked a therapy session for you.” Her mother continues in a much softer and more careful tone, almost as if she can feel Yeji’s pain. Yeji looks up at her mother, hoping to meet compassion in her eyes, but of course she doesn’t. Instead her mother looks scared, as if Yeji is some kind of monster that any time could jump her and cause injuries. In one way she has already done that, by identifying as a queer person. Or does she really? Or is it like her father claims, a mind game played on her by Ryujin? Is she really bewitched and if so, can she be cured? Nonetheless Yeji can’t deny the pain that walks with her and does its very best to break her down. It wasn’t there before she met Ryujin, before she started liking girls. Perhaps her parents are right? Perhaps it’s actually a disease? And if that’s so, Yeji would gladly accept any kind of help to relief the agony.
When Yeji comes back home she goes straight into the shower. She lets the hot water burn over her body. It redirects her focus to the boiling pain on her skin instead of the one in her heart. When exiting she stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. Barefaced, just like Ryujin always is. No, now the thoughts are wondering there again. She has to stop it. If she wants the pain the disappear she must focus on something else. It doesn’t matter what, her studies, cleaning or even her brother’s newfound friends. Anything to distract her from what makes her feel so much.
As she goes back into her bedroom, she notices the screen on her phone lighting up. Without thinking she picks it up to check the notification. Instantly her body freezes yet manages to make her heart race. It’s Ryujin, she has called and left several text messages, again. She has tried do come in contact with Yeji every day since the birthday party, but Yeji hasn’t answered a single time. During the weekend she was heavily guarded by her parents and yesterday she had enough problem with surviving the school day. But what about now? Should she answer? Yeji hesitates, hovering with her finger over the lit-up screen. No, what is she doing? Of course she shouldn’t answer. Didn’t she just a minute ago tell herself that Ryujin is no good for her? Dear fate, she really needs that therapy. Or anything else that can help her go back to normal, go back to when she didn’t feel this much.