When I Met Him (1/1)

I’ve seen him on one or two dramas. It was the first time that I had a crush on a Korean. I thought that I wouldn’t – since most of males in that are considered handsome wears too much make up – however, he was different. He is handsome, and definitely a good actor. I haven’t had much exposure to Korean dramas, but I knew that he doesn’t use only his face for acting. His eyes were fierce, his lips were luscious, and even his posture was just right; everything about him was simple, but stunning, and not false. I haven’t been to South Korea, yet I know a thing or two about their country since I was formerly an ESL Instructor for Koreans. It’s common in our country to find a lot of Koreans; it’s only an hour or so trip from their country to ours and the tourism in our country provides a lot of choices for foreigners to enjoy their stay; they can even study here. In other words, they have a lot of reasons to come to the Philippines. It has been a year since I stopped teaching as I started my novels. I’m not that famous of a writer, but I’ve been writing for a long time and eventually, a company decided to publish my works. It is just a small company, but I have decided to comply and now, most of my short stories were published and children from different ages have unfaltering faith in them. It has been a wonderful year, I suppose. It was around June earlier the following year when we met each other in a café. Summer has come to those countries that have four seasons, and one of the famous places for a vacation around that time was the Philippines. Though Manila’s crowded, you would still catch backpackers and tourists from different nations in the capital city. Since I grew up in the city, I didn’t find it uncommon; in fact, if it lacked foreigners, then that would be really new to my eyes. Summer that time was scorching hot, and I had to finish my manuscript by the end of the week. Wanting a change of atmosphere, given that I write my stories at home, I settled on going to the nearest coffee shop from my apartment. Bringing along my notebook laptop, and some hand written notes in my bag, I took a short walk, around 1PM, to the most calming café in the area. It was located between an Italian restaurant and a bank which I find convenient for a diversity of people. The café was packed with people, and thankfully, I got there in time to get seated as the last customer, and the others were in queue to wait for the other customers to finish their meal that would take them a century to get their turn. In the Philippines, especially in Manila, summer is a battlefield; you would have to fight your way to cool yourself from the blazing heat of the sun. I settled my things on the oval-like table, and I was about to order when the waitress suddenly interrupted me: “Miss,” the waitress started, “is it possible to share your table with another one? As you can see, we’re full and it’s really difficult to get seats for other customers.” I noticed that her eyes were pleading, sort of the thing that dogs do whenever they want to get what they want. I sighed dismissively and replied, “If it’s only one person, then that would be fine.” I smiled to her; a smile that I use whenever I’m disappointed, but couldn’t do anything. “Thank you, Miss!” And with that, she left without getting my order. I was used to this since it has happened to me several times already. Customer service was getting slack, but I understand because they get panicky when there are a lot of customers. It took a couple of minutes before the waitress came back with a man wearing a curious-looking scarf in the middle of summer heat, and a tinted pair of sunglasses. From his looks, I knew that he was a foreigner, but because of his attire, I couldn’t guess what nationality he was. His hair was parted half-way to the side, and he was wearing a plain black fitted shirt and grey shorts – so much for his scarf. He bowed down to show his gratitude before sitting down. The waitress eventually took my order, and the man’s. I ordered a frappe since I was thirsty for an iced cold drink, and a chicken turnover. After giving my order to the waitress, it took time for the man to have his; he stared at the menu like it was a scary monster that was going to eat him. It seemed like he was having troubles in what to order. I ended up helping him. “Do you need help?” I asked him in the most polite way I could muster. He faced me with his scarf and sunglasses covering his expression. He stared at me for a second or two before speaking, “What is good?” His voice was a little low and the scarf even muffled it. “Pardon me?” “What is good?” He asked again; this time it was a little clearer, though his English had a strange accent to it which seemed familiar. I showed him my menu and told the ones that I recommend, pointing to each picture for him to know which is which. After sometime, he was able to order – brewed coffee and a clubhouse sandwich. He thanked me again, for my help this time, by bowing once more. That time, I got curious. There are only a few countries that bow whenever they show gratitude or demise. The ones that came to my mind were Japan and Korea. Japan came first to mind since I’m a fanatic when it comes to anime, jpop, and their dramas, and also because I studied a little Japanese. Korea was a bit familiar to me since I’ve worked for Korean companies before, I have a lot of friends that enjoy the Korean culture, and I like some of their dishes, too. I wanted to know what his nationality was so I took out my cell and called a friend that speaks Japanese, too. I talked to her about random things; spazzing and freaking out about our favorite artists, and when the call has ended, I waited for his reaction. Sadly, I learned that he wasn’t Japanese since he didn’t even react a tiny bit. By that time, I have forgotten that I had to finish my manuscript, and that it was the reason why I was there in the first place. Curiosity had gotten the best of me. I looked at him, and he was already engrossed in his cell. I guess he’s using some social media site to entertain himself. Our order was still on its way – fifteen minutes had already passed, but by the looks of it, it seemed like it would take a few more minutes before the waitress comes back – so I took the opportunity to know my seat mate. I breathed heavily a couple of times, and then cleared my throat. “Excuse me,” I started, “is it your first time in visiting the country?” He looked at me behind his sunglasses, and took time to answer. I guess he was weighing things before he spoke. “No. Last year.” He was a man of few English words then, I thought. I couldn’t really find the right words to ask him more about his nationality. For me, asking someone’s nationality at the start of a conversation with someone is rude, but I just couldn’t hide my curiosity. I simply stated, “You’re Korean.” He pulled his eye glasses half-way, just for me to his eyes. They twinkled with interest that I almost choked. “Yes. Why?” I didn’t want him to think that I don’t like foreigners, but at the same time, there’s something dampening my thoughts about him. He looked like someone that I have seen on TV before, but I have a hard time recalling Korean names since I’m not good at the language; I’m not even familiar with most Korean dramas and the actors, and actresses. I’m ashamed, but I didn’t say this except my cheeks blushed – which he noticed. “I just thought I could ask. Sorry about that.” I replied shyly. “Ara*,” he acknowledged in his language, “I’m not good in English,” he said it miserably. His accent was noticeable and his intonation was horrible, but I’m used to it that I almost corrected him, but I pulled myself together and told myself that I wasn’t an instructor anymore. “It’s alright,” I smiled, “I’m June, and you are?” “Soo Hyun,” he said quietly. It was as if he didn’t want other people to catch our conversation. Before I could react, the waitress came with our order. She handed mine first before turning to put Soo Hyun’s in front of him. When the waitress left, I noticed that he sipped his drink before continuing, “It’s secret. My name.” I cocked my head to one side as I tried to comprehend his fragments of a sentence. “You mean to say, I have to keep your name a secret?” He nodded twice to make it clear. He went back on sipping his drink, but I still have a lot of questions to ask him. “Are you an-,” I held my breath. Damn, how am I supposed to ask it? Made up my mind, I continued bluntly, “actor?” He stared at me blankly. I caught his ruse, I realized, as he leaned back and heaved a grave sigh. I tried to think about his name. I actually know his name; nevertheless I was glad that I didn’t freak out like a normal fan girl would. I waited for him to speak, but he didn’t, so I took that opportunity to tell him that I know him – calmly as I could. “Kim Soo Hyun?” I made sure that I spoke his name correctly and only loud enough for both of us to hear. Underneath his scarf, I saw him bite his lower lip. I shivered at his action because it was the first time that I saw him bite his lip; not even in the dramas that I have seen him once he did that, and I was trying my best to control my fan girl instinct. I wanted to scream, ask his autograph, take a picture with him, and to hug him, but the author in me calmed me down – only for a bit; my legs were shaking, and I swear that I wanted to throw up right then. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” I assured him. He nodded once as an acknowledgement. I stopped pestering him, and decided to dig into my food which was getting colder by the minute. I kept my eyes down, not wanting to embarrass his lack of deception any longer. My chicken turnover was still warm, thank goodness, as I bit into it. I could smell the different kinds of food in the café and it made me feel cozy inside. I love food as much I love reading, and it’s almost like a hobby of mine to eat. I dug into my food, trying to be oblivious of the actor, but I couldn’t. He still wasn’t eating his sandwich and it bothered me. “Aren’t you going to eat your sandwich?” I eventually got the guts to ask. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed before answering, “I don’t like mayonnaise.” Turns out, he hated the texture of mayonnaise, and I had to call the waitress to ask her if she could make another one for him – without the mayonnaise. “Apparently, he didn’t know that there was mayonnaise in it, and hates mayonnaise.” I explained to her. She raised her eyebrows to me as if saying, ‘That’s stupid’, but I just smiled at her and she said, “Alright, but that would cost extra.” “Wait, I’ll ask him,” then I turned to Soo Hyun, “Is it alright if you pay two times the amount of the sandwich?” He cocked his head to his right. He didn’t understand; I assumed that this has never happened to him before. The lack of tourist guide or chaperone must be tough for him to handle. Nonetheless, I explained it to him by numbers, using the menu and multiplication; he finally understood what I was saying to him. He nodded and said, “Araso*.” I confirmed the order to the waitress and she left with wonder. My chicken turnover was finished, and my frappe was half empty by the time the waitress got back with Soo Hyun’s order. Finally, he was able to eat his heart out, without having to think about the mayonnaise. I checked the time and realized that I was behind schedule in finishing my manuscript before its deadline. Since I’m a fan of his, I knew that he would be a reason for me to get a writer’s block, or worse make a fan fiction out of us. I was already packing my things when he spoke to me once more, “June?” My laptop notebook was halfway in my bag when I glanced at him. “Y-yes?” Damn. Why did I stutter when he spoke my name? “Busy?” he inquired in that one word sentence. Again, I had to suppress my inner teacher in correcting him. I had to repeatedly remind myself that I wasn’t supposed to correct his sentences. “A little busy. Why do you ask?” Silence fell upon us. He was still fishing for the right words to say, I guessed. It took a minute before he answered, “What is your number?” A few more curses almost slipped from my tongue. Kim Soo Hyun was asking for my number! I wanted to jump up and down in glee. “Why?” His lack of manners showed in his English. Of course, in our country – or maybe in anyone else’s – we should know more about the person before asking our number. “Friend?” I just had to laugh. So he thought that we’re friends already after sharing a table together? Alright, I had to give him my number, partly because of the fact that he’s one of my crushes, and because it was an opportunity to get to know him even more. After exchanging numbers, I packed my things and asked the waitress for my bill – along with Soo Hyun’s. I was about to take out my cash when Soo Hyun stopped me and insisted on paying my expenses by waving his wallet, filled with Philippine peso and some Korean Won, and pointing to himself. I smiled and said, “Thank you.” He didn’t finish his sandwich, but gulped the rest of his coffee as I stood up. “I will come with you.” He said with persistence. “Sorry, but I’m going home.” I said dismissively as I stood up. I didn’t want him to come to my house since I was not the neat-freak like my sister and my mom. He stood up after me, and I almost barked at him to sit again. I’m not tall, and with my petite figure, he looked like a basketball player against me. I resented my height, but not my slimness; for someone who eats three cups of rice once every meal, I don’t get fat at all! My friends say it’s because of my metabolism, but I seldom brag about it because I tend to hurt my younger sister’s feelings. “I will-,” then he stopped in mid sentence. “Aish*!” I looked around to where he was gazing at, and I saw some girls with their cameras at the ready. I assumed that they already found out where he was. I wanted to ditch him already, but at the same time, it would be really disastrous if he got caught in a fan girl riot. I flung my bag on my shoulder and grabbed his wrist. We wound our way past the crowd, and I hailed a taxi, though my apartment was just three kilometers away from the café. “Manong, sa Espana Street po*,” I told the driver. I turned back to Soo Hyun and said, “My apartment’s just near here, but if you’re avoiding the fans, we’ll take a long trip.” He bowed his thanks and said, “Okay. Sorry.” “Gwaenchanha*.” I told him in my worst Korean accent. He laughed at me; a deep rumbling chuckle came from his throat. “Araso.” With his laugh, his twinkling smile suddenly flashed before him. It didn’t matter to me that he was wearing a scarf; I have watched his dramas enough for me to recall his smile. He’s also an endorser for a beauty shop which was filled with his posters. I let my imagination run wild with him beside me until the driver announced that we have arrived to our destination. NOTES:Ara = short for Araso; I know or I understand or I get itAraso = I know or I understand or I get itAish = Korean interjection that can be used to express frustration or angerManong, sa Espana Street po* = Filipino (Tagalog) for, 'Sir, please go to (take us to) Espana Street.'Gwaenchanha = It's okay