Sleepless in Seoul ✓

10.

Park Jimin.

I can't believe I forgot him.

It's been years and we weren't really that close either but still. I remember the slight hurt in his voice when I kept on insisting that I didn't know anyone named Park Jimin and this makes a fresh wave of guilt wash over me.

Speaking of, my phone starts rings, the caller ID showing me that it's the guy that has somehow become a fixature inside my mind for the past few days, especially after last night's dream.

"Are you okay now?" is what he asks the moment I pick up the call, worry lacing his tone.

"You've become patient. I was surprised that you didn't flood my phone with texts and missed calls after last night. It's not like you to give me 24 hours before you succumb to your curiosity."

"I take it you're okay then if you're in the mood to jest? This is the most you've talked to me." I hear a relived chuckle.

"I am not okay, but I will be. Besides, my eighth day in Seoul wasn't that bad like the past few weeks."

Because of you and your lullaby, but I don't tell him that.

"Really? That's progress, I suppose?"

"Yes, I suppose." I sigh. My pathetic excuse for a father has been calling me since a few days ago but

I don't want to pick it up. It's too late to make amends, if he even wants to. Knowing him, I highly doubt that's the case. I am sure he just wants to get in touch because he needs me to do something for him.

"By the way, I am going to visit this art gallery which is displaying your work. I'll be going with two of my friends tomorrow, the ones who like your paintings. One of them was in our school too. Kim Taehyung."

"Oh, I see."

I don't know how else to reply, because internally, my heart isn't slowing down. It keeps defying me and doing this little dance.

"Yeah." I can hear he is a bit disappointed with my lack of response, so his voice deflates a little.

"Text me the address, I'll swing by that gallery in the evening. We can meet up." I add. My heart has gone crazy now, it's beats are not ready to return to their normal pace.

"Really?" He doesn't hide the excitement in his voice. It's evident as clear as day, with the way his voice shoots up a few pitches, making me smile.

He hasn't changed, he is still endearing but he has shed his shyness. In the past, he couldn't talk to me without stuttering or blushing. But maybe it's because we're talking over the phone.

Or maybe it's because he doesn't like you that way anymore. It was just a schoolboy crush, of course he doesn't. I shut up the irritating internal voice inside my mind which reminds me the quite plausible reason.

"You might recognize me if you see me again." He says hopefully.

"I have internet too you know. I looked you up when you say you're an idol. Well, I will get to see for myself if you are who you claim you are tomorrow." I say as a matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I see."

I can't bear that deflated tone any longer and while I was thinking I'll tell him later; I find myself revealing the fact that I remember him.

"By the way, I really liked those glasses of yours, although contacts are cool too. You aren't skipping meals like before, right?"

I hear him suck in an astonished breath. He's silent for a few long seconds, obviously taken aback and processing what I just threw at him.

"You...remember me?"

"I'm sorry I didn't at first. I don't really reminisce old memories, especially that time of my life."

"And I don't hold that against you. But Byeol, you really remember me?" I can imagine the giddy grin which spreads over his face.

"It's Lyra, not Byeol." I remind him.

"But I like calling you Byeol." He insists. I imagine a high school senior Park Jimin, with those black glass pouting at me as he says that, making me giggle.

"But I like being called Lyra."

It's a lie. I was convinced I hated the name Im Byeol, but strangely, when he calls my name, it doesn't sound that bad.

"I will still call you Byeol."

"You've changed Park Jimin. Before you couldn't even look in my eyes and now, you're arguing with me?"

"It's because your eyes are very pretty. They shine just like stars. It's too blinding to look directly into them."

He cheekily replies, making me roll my eyes but on the inside my heart flutters like a hummingbird's wings at his words.

"It's getting late, you should go sleep." I change the topic.

"You're sleepy?" He's surprised.

"No, I always find it difficult to sleep before sunrise although thank you for yesterday. It was the most peaceful sleep I've had in years."

"Do you want me to sing again?" He asks. My heart is officially in overdrive mode.

"Yes." I reply, and once again his sweet voice lulls me to sleep.