new beginnings
“Yoo Jeongyeon,” the lecturer called out.
Dragging her feet, Jeongyeon made her way through the rows upon rows of occupied tables and down to the lecturer’s table. Her steps were heavy, knowing she completely butchered the test a week ago. Sure enough, as if to confirm her thoughts, Mr. Han passed the folded test paper to her, not even making a second of eye contact. She knew what it meant. The folded test paper’s basically an international gesture used by teachers all around the world suggesting not-so-great results. Thankfully, she wasn’t in middle school so there wasn’t a single person in the theatre who laughed or made so much as a snicker about her failing her test. After all, everyone’s just trying to survive through the hellhole known as college.
Much like herself.
Jeongyeon was not someone people would call an academically excelling student. Sure, she’s had her fair share of awards and 100-percents during her time, but those were all either strokes of luck, or just some divine forces in play. Her passion and talent instead laid in the performing arts. Acting. Performing. Singing. She even dabbled in dancing a few years ago and was praised about how good she was. In spite of all the talent she held in all of those, she still enjoyed studying and learning something new. Her thirst for knowledge was never quenched, and so she chose a science based course rather than an art based one such as drama.
Jeongyeon brushed the test score off and shoved it somewhere in her bag where it would probably never see the light of day ever again. The lecturer dismissed the class and Jeongyeon exited the class in low spirits. Getting a paper with a horrifyingly large amount of crosses on it wasn’t how she expected her morning to go, but she definitely knew where she was going next could make her day better. The Drama and Theatre clubroom.
Her safe haven. Just because she liked learning, didn’t mean she was impervious to the effects of the course she took. With the stress of studies and exams, Jeongyeon would always find comfort there. She could sing as loud as she could, shout Shakespeare as dramatic as the act allowed, and perform as much as her heart desires. With the amount of time she spent in the room along with the multiples of performances she was in, it wasn’t a surprise when she was selected for the year-end play. Jeongyeon knew herself that the role was going to be offered to her sooner or later, so she definitely had the mental fortitude to accept the offer straight away without a hint of hesitation.
“Sup.” Jeongyeon greeted as she opened the door.
Instead of the usual greetings, she was greeted back with a chaotic scene. Her friends scrambled about with large costumes back and forth in the room, the supervising teacher in-charge screaming ear-deafening instructions, and overall it was just a busier atmosphere than what she’s used to.
“What’s going on?” Jeongyeon asked, unknown to whom she directed the question to.
Luckily, it was loud enough for the supervising teacher, Ms. Jo, to hear. “Ah, there she is! Finally!”
“Hey, what’s up with everyone?”
Jeongyeon could see a glimpse of doubt and guilt behind Ms. Jo’s eyes, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it was.
“Jeong, uh, let me talk to you in private for a sec,” Ms. Jo grabbed Jeongyeon by the shoulder and walked to one of the corners in the room less populated with frantic students. “So uh, I have bad news. For both of us.”
“What’s wrong? Is it about the play?”
“Something like that. So, uh, I’m sorry to say but Gahyeon’s gonna be taking the lead role over you,” the teacher broke the news.
“Wait what?”
“I’m sorry, Jeong. You’re great at acting— heck, I think that you’re the only one who can play the role flawlessly— but it’s just that…”
“It’s just that…?” Jeongyeon pressed further.
Ms. Jo was hesitant, but she spoke out either way. “It’s the rules. Any student who wishes to participate in extracurricular activity has to maintain a credit in all of their units. You’re still in the green zone for the majority of your course units, but you’re failing in Biochemistry. Sorry Jeong but I have no power in this,” Ms. Jo said, giving Jeongyeon a pat on the shoulder before leaving to handle the sudden change in roles.
Jeongyeon’s world broke down. Her only form of escape from reality, shattered, by reality itself. She had forgotten just how cruel the world actually was. Just when she thought that life was rolling for her, this happened. She finally found a place where she could balance her passion for the fine arts and her love for learning. She just didn’t expect that one of the two sides broke the balance. Desperate, Jeongyeon called out.
“Ms. Jo, wait!” Jeongyeon shouted out, her words coming out of her mouth without her consent. “What if I get top of the class on the next exam? It’s in about 3 months’ time and the play’s in 5 so I’ll definitely get my grades before the play,”
Jeongyeon realised the position she’s putting herself in wasn’t an ideal one, but she didn’t mind. Going from the lower positions of the class to the top didn’t really seem like a realistic situation she’d be able to pull off but Jeongyeon felt that she wouldn’t back down without a fight.
“Then that means you’ll only have 2 months to practice your lines. It’s too much of a risk, Jeong, and I don’t think you can—”
“I can do it. I have to. I’ll continue to practice the lines while I’m studying, so if I get top of the class next 3 months, would you please let me play the lead?” Jeongyeon interrupted, her eyes and tone of voice bleeding with desperation she never thought could come out of herself.
Ms. Jo contemplated for a bit, but her heart screamed to accept Jeongyeon’s proposal. She saw how badly Jeongyeon wanted the role, and how hard she practiced for it. Furthermore, Jeongyeon had done so much for the Drama and Theatre community in the school. Turning her back on Jeongyeon was not an option. “Fine. Only if you get top of the class.”
Jeongyeon’s expression lit up at the thought of there being a slight glimpse of hope. A slight one was enough for her though. “Thank you! Thank you so much! You won’t regret this, I guarantee you!” Jeongyeon thanked, overjoyed.
Ms. Jo watched as Jeongyeon left the room with a bit of bounce in her steps. She was worried, but there was no way she could have ignored the young girl’s tenacity. If Jeongyeon says she can do it, she will do it.
~
“Holy shit, I don’t think I can do it,” Jeongyeon said, burying her face into her hands. “And Nayeon, can you please just shut up already? It’s been 10 minutes.”
“B-but—“, Nayeon took a gasp of air before continuing her parade of laughter, “—you got a 26%! On a subject you like!”
Jeongyeon reddened in embarrassment. Nayeon had always teased her a lot, and by a lot, she means a lot. Jeongyeon didn’t hate it though. Sure, it gets annoying from time to time, but she knew Nayeon would take a bullet for her no matter the circumstances. And she’d do the same for her. Plus, it wasn’t like it was a one-sided teasing. Jeongyeon enjoyed teasing Nayeon just as much as Nayeon enjoys teasing her.
“You think you’re so smart, huh? Like you could do any better in your course, asshole.” Jeongyeon retorted.
Nayeon stopped laughing and a serious countenance glooming over her face. She grabbed her bag from the side of the cafeteria table they were at and took out a piece of paper.
“Fuck.”
There, cladded in bold and unnecessarily large, read;
FUNDAMENTALS OF BIOCHEMISTRY (BIOL10586): 93%
Nayeon laughed harder than she did just seconds ago, her laugh echoing against the walls of the campus’ cafeteria. A couple of people turned their heads to her direction, to which Jeongyeon just shamefully lowered her head.
“It’s not even the same paper, shut up,” Jeongyeon said, pouting.
“iT’s nOt eVEn tHe sAmE pAPEr— please, it’s like 95% similar.”
“Babe, stop teasing her,” Dahyun said, slapping Nayeon’s thighs. “You can get better before the next one, don’t worry too much about it Jeong,” Dahyun comforted.
“Thanks, Dahyun, you’re the best.” Jeongyeon said, appreciating the gesture.
Jeongyeon noticed she had thanked Dahyun quite a lot over the years. Well, it wasn’t like it was her fault or anything, Dahyun was just kind. The brunette had her way of doing such kind things in the most subtle way possible, and Jeongyeon respected her for that. Being humble wasn’t one of the things ingrained in her DNA cause after all, she is a performer. Humility has its places and the stage isn’t one of them.
Of course, it also meant that she had a hard time digesting the facts when Nayeon announced she and Dahyun were going out with each other. They were polar opposites. Dahyun carried herself well, and is very well spoken, albeit she kept to herself quite a lot. And Nayeon… well, she’s Nayeon. Loud, slightly obnoxious, a tad bit annoying, sometimes a bitc— but enough of that. Maybe it was the other side of Nayeon that caught Dahyun’s eye. The side where she’s quiet, soft spoken, caring, and the Nayeon who has her own little world she’d lock herself in before deciding it was time to be the energetic Nayeon again. They have their similarities, but not more than their differences. Who knows, maybe opposites attract. It’s not like she didn’t date people completely different from herself in the past, so Jeongyeon had no grounds to judge the two lovebirds.
“Who got the hyena laughing this time?” a voice emerged.
“Hey! Hyena’s a bit much isn’t it?” Nayeon rebutted, slapping the owner of the remark in the upper arm.
“Ayyy, look who decided to join the show,” Jeongyeon cheered upon the arrival of the rest of her friend group, Sana and Tzuyu.
Sana was another close friend of the three but Tzuyu was a newer addition to the group. She was a bit cold at first, but it didn’t take long for the group to warm up to her when she revealed all she wanted to do was look for new friends. Coming to a foreign country with no one else was definitely scary, but Sana could relate well to the Taiwanese girl. Sana didn’t come here from Japan alone, unlike Tzuyu, however. She came with a friend of hers, the name, Jeongyeon couldn’t for the life of her remember. Ever since that, it was always the five of them together. Lunch, occasionally dinner. Sometimes even sleepovers. Jeongyeon remembered the time her small bedroom apartment seemed smaller than usual when the four of them used to come, forgetting the 172cm behemoth was a part of their group now.
“So. Who incited the weeping angel over there?” Tzuyu asked.
“Okay, being called a hyena paled in comparison to that, what do you mean weepi—”
“I got a low mark on the test so Nayeon’s having the time of her life teasing me,” Jeongyeon interrupted.
“Aw damn, that sucks. It’s cool, you can just get the next one,” Sana said.
“See. That’s how you should react when I tell you my score, Nayeon.”
“My bad, my bad. It was just that funny to me. So, what’s up with the ‘Holy shit, I don’t think I can do it.’ thing just now?” Nayeon asked.
“Oh wow, you actually heard that? I thought you were busy laughing your ass off.”
“Multitasking.”
Jeongyeon rolled her eyes at Nayeon’s quip, wondering why she became friends with her in the first place. “You’re a different type of unbearable, oh god,” Jeongyeon complained. “It’s something to do with the play I was supposed to have a role in.”
“What do you mean ‘supposed to’? Did someone take it from you?” Tzuyu asked, curious.
“It’s a long story. Well, maybe not,” she replied, “but I don’t think it’s worth the time to tell, I guess,”
“Well, we have time. And I’m sure most of us have nothing better to do,” Dahyun said.
“Speak for yourself babe, I have—”
“Well, if you insist.” Jeongyeon sighed. She wasn’t actually planning to tell her story but she found a reason to annoy Nayeon so she took it.
“—class. O Lord, please give me the patience to not slap this blonde right across her face at this very moment in time.”
“So, uh. Y’all know I’m supposed to play the lead role in the year-end play right? Well apparently participating in the play counts as extracurricular activity and students are only given the opportunity to participate in extracurricular activity given that the student maintains a credit in all the units of his, her, or their course. I’m gucci in my other units but I’m failing in Biochemistry. So, the role’s just hanging now and apparently some chick named Gahyeon’s gonna take it. Not that I’m opposed to that, but it’s just that I want the role,” Jeongyeon explained. “Maybe I was a bit desperate. I told the supervising teacher in-charge of the play to let me play the role if I top the class in the next exams. She accepted it.”
“Sheesh. You could’ve just said you’ll pass the next exam but you really had to go out and talk about topping the class, huh,” Sana commented.
“Had to go all out, you know.”
“Fair enough. What’s up with that lead role or something? Why do you want it so bad?”
Jeongyeon pondered if she should share what she felt, and realised she didn’t have much to lose telling it to her closest friends. “Balance. I like where I am right now. I get to learn about new things that interest me, and I get to explore my passion and talent in performing on stage. It helps me not get too stressed in either of the things I like. If I’m stressed about studying and exams, I sing or act my heart out. If I get too stressed about remembering my lines, I open up a book and start learning new things. Plus, it’ll definitely look good when I try to apply as an entertainer one day. I heard a second-year got recruited by a big-shot company a few years back and is now one of the top actresses in the industry, so I’m taking my chances.”
Jeongyeon doesn’t open up often. It’s not that she didn’t have anyone to open up to, it was just that she hated it. Talking about her problems and stuff like that. She didn’t want to burden anyone with her personal problems. Yeah, people say stuff like “Oh it’s fine to open up to me” or “I don’t mind” but it never sat well with her. She didn’t mind if people opened up to her though. In fact, she loves comforting people and making people feel better about themselves or about their situation. She didn’t know if she was being toxic on herself or if it was normal, but it’s not like it matters anyway.
“Ew, you relieve stress by learning something new? What’s wrong with you?” Nayeon grimaced in utmost disgust.
“That’s the main takeaway you got from that? Of all the things you could’ve gotten from me opening up like that, you got that ?”
“So what are you planning to do?” Tzuyu butted in before Nayeon could give an answer.
“I honestly don’t know. Believe it or not, I actually studied quite a lot for the test and all I got was,” Jeongyeon said, a tint of defeat painting her voice as she held her test paper in her hand, “this trash,”
Silence grew in the air. The girls saw just how much the whole ordeal affected Jeongyeon, and they knew they had to do something.
“How about getting a tutor?” Tzuyu suggested, breaking the silence.
“And have some old dude who smells like 50-day-old lasagna constantly berate me for every mistake I make? I’ll pass.”
“That was… oddly specific. There’s a story behind that but I’m not sure if I wanna know or not,” Tzuyu continued, a bit taken aback with Jeongyeon’s response. “But nah, it’s not someone like that. It’s a student tutor. I know this person who helped me out a lot past semester and I think she’s an excellent teacher.”
“I don’t know. I doubt a student, of all people, could explain better than someone who got a PhD for it.”
“She’s pretty too!” Tzuyu added.
“I don’t understand how that’s relevant to this situation but damn, okay. And this is coming from you? She must be a real hot one then. But that’s a red flag for me. Someone who’s insanely pretty and really smart? This is college, sweetie. No one like that exists.”
“Hi. I’m Im Nayeon. I apparently don’t exist.” Nayeon snuck her way in the conversation perfectly.
The table groaned in unison, creating a harmonious tone that screamed “Shut the hell up, Nayeon”. Dahyun who just nodded in agreement, fully supportive of her girlfriend, and Jeongyeon wonders how the brunette could endure being Nayeon’s significant other. And by the looks of Sana and Tzuyu who were glaring at Dahyun for nodding and not groaning in disgust with them, she was sure she wasn’t the only one who questioned it. Jeongyeon sighed and stood up, grabbing her bag and pile of books and crumpled papers from the table.
“Woah, where are you going? It wasn’t that bad, come on,” Nayeon asked.
“Haha, very funny. If I were to leave every time you made a bad joke, I’d already be in a different country,” Jeongyeon retorted and continued, “I’m heading off to the library. If I’m gonna get that role I should be ready to work my butt off. Bye!”
“Don’t push yourself too hard, loser! Give yourself a break from time to time and don’t be scared to ask help if it gets tough!” the group shouted from afar, sounding distant.
Jeongyeon just chuckled and waved, relieved that even if her world fell apart, she’d still have her friends.
~
The large campus library was as desolate as usual. People don’t usually stay around in the late afternoon, except for a few good apples who spend their entire free time in the library, revising through material. The place usually gets packing around a month before the big exams start, usually with students cramping in an entire semester’s worth of knowledge in just a few nights.
Jeongyeon came to like the library. It was clean, and the comfortable silence appealed to her just as much as the smell of vintage books that scented the humongous three-story building. It was a paradise for book lovers and introverts alike. She settled down in her usual spot, a small and cozy 4-person table under a small window. She’d occasionally stare out the window and into the sky when she starts to get a bit tired of studying. Helps her eyes to rest too. She took out her test paper and started reviewing it.
“Role of ATP in the Calvin cycle…? Thought I had it, why didn’t I get the mark?” Jeongyeon talked to herself, brows furrowed together in confusion. She flipped through her textbooks, trying to find the answer, but to no avail. “Wait. I swear it’s in one of these…” she trailed off, going through the books once more, this time taking a bit more time to look carefully at each page.
“It’s gonna take forever if you’re trying to find the answer in those books,” someone interrupted Jeongyeon in her search.
Jeongyeon looked up and saw a girl in front of her, fit out in a bright summer dress which would’ve been a bit too revealing if not for the school’s varsity jacket on top. The girl’s hair was dark, reminding Jeongyeon of a starry night sky, which was a huge contrast to her own blonde hair. However, much like hers but just a tad bit longer, the girl’s hair fell just short of her broad shoulders. Her silky, pale skin seemed flawless and untouched, which made her a bit too unreal. She was hiding behind her file and pile of books which seemed comically large compared to her adorably tiny stature. She was gorgeous, ethereal even, and Jeongyeon definitely realised it.
Jeongyeon realised she stared for a bit too long, and blurted out the only thing that was on her mind.
“Woa— I mean, huh?”
Great. She knows she’s not gonna sleep over that tonight.
“The answer isn't in any of those books. Here,” the girl fumbled with her pile, which Jeongyeon realised was stacked with books familiar to her. She took out a green book, and passed it to Jeongyeon. “That’s the one with the answer. Page 328. You should really try and make tiny notes on like post-its or something, Yoo. It helps a lot.”
“Sure, I’ll keep that in m— wait, you know my name?”
“Am I not supposed to?”
“No, no that’s not what I meant. I’m just surprised you know my name, that’s all.”
“Duh. We’re in the same class, of course I know your name. Yoo Jeongyeon, right? I’m sure you know mine.”
Jeongyeon froze. There was no way she wouldn’t remember someone like her if she was in one of her classes. Heck, it was the middle of the second semester in her first year here and she thought she knew everyone in her classes so there was no way she wouldn’t know her. In her head, Jeongyeon listed out all ten of her mandatory classes and tried to cross out the least likely classes they’d share judging from the books the girl was carrying. In the end, she narrowed it down.
To nine.
Needless to say, Jeongyeon had no clue who she was.
“No way we’re in the same class,” Jeongyeon said, hoping that the girl was just messing around.
“Are you serious? This is the second semester, Yoo.” the girl deadpanned.
Jeongyeon felt guilty, but still wasn’t sure if the girl was serious or not. And even if the girl was acting, damn is she good at it. Maintaining her stance, she pressed further. “Oh yeah? Name three other people in the same class as us.” Jeongyeon smirked, feeling as if she broke down the girl’s act.
“Hitomi, Jooheon, Wooyoung.”
Fuck.
She knew all of those names and what was worse is that all three names were people taking the same course as her so she couldn’t narrow anything down further.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongyeon apologised, embarrassed.
“Wow, you can’t be serious. I sit in the same row as you!”
“No way! You really think I don’t remember someone as pretty as—” Jeongyeon stopped in her tracks. “—you?” she continued after processing what she said.
The girl’s cheeks grew a pink hue, and a smile was slowly forming on the girl’s lips. Jeongyeon managed to take a peek at the girl’s gummy smile before she hid behind her file, and Jeongyeon felt something tug in her heart.
“W-well, uh, that’s something for you to figure out yourself I guess. I gotta, uh, gotta go.” the girl stuttered, fumbling over her words.
“Wait, what about your book?” Jeongyeon called out to the girl that was… running? No. Walking…? away. It was a mixture of the two and Jeongyeon didn’t know what it was. What Jeongyeon knew was that it’s oddly adorable and she couldn’t help but smile when she saw it.
“Give it back to me tomorrow in class or once you remember my name!” the girl said, not looking back once.
Jeongyeon chuckled and went back to review her test. She turned straight to the page the girl told her to and, lo and behold, there it was. She didn’t know whether to be amazed that the girl perfectly remembered which page the answer was on in a 700-page textbook, or frustrated that she lost the mark just because she forgot a couple of words. Regardless, the girl definitely helped shave a ton of time that would’ve gone towards scouring each and every book in existence for the answer. She would’ve opted for the all-mighty Google if not for the fact that the answers won’t exactly match with the one for the test.
Just as she flipped through the pages to find the answer for the next question she made a mistake on, a small, pink post-it fell out, landing conveniently close to her feet. She reached down to take it, a grin growing as she read the contents of the post-it.
They were small summary notes on what Jeongyeon assumed to be respiration, a topic her Biochemistry class covered before. And there it read, on the far bottom right of the piece of paper, a name she promised herself to never forget.
In her bag, Jeongyeon’s phone buzzed.
Tzuyu: Jeong
Tzuyu: I know you said you don’t need a tutor
Tzuyu: But might as well give you her contact jic you change your mind
...and TP is either regenerated into oxaloacetate, or be used to form a hexose sugar.
Myoui Mina
Tzuyu: [ Contact ]
Myoui Mina