"dude you're like pressing the wrong keys! that is not how you play the piano, stupid"
"𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶."
in which music major mark lee gets involved with baddie rina the ballerina...
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"mark, are you awake?" rina delicately places the simmering bowl of porridge she had prepared for him on the table.
"mmh", mark replied, rising from his bed and stretching his sore limbs.
"uhmm, thank you for the meal, and for being here instead of being in school. thanks a lot rina, i really appreciate it", mark looked at her, flashing a genuine smile.
"do you want me to feed you, or..." rina asked rather shyly, addressing the sick boy in front of her.
"n-nah uh, it's okay", mark stuttered.
"oh, y-yeah", rina lowered her head in embarrassment and pretended to smooth out the hem of her denim skirt.
mark found her flustered state adorable, though.
"here's the spoon, and i also prepared a boiled egg with a runny yolk, just the way you like it!" rina handed him the spoon.
mark said a quick prayer and eagerly dug in. "hahhhhh!" he exclaimed, his palate scalded by the searing heat of the food.
"are you alright? do you need some water?" rina offered assistance to mark.
"thanks", mark hastily gulped down the water. "i allowed my hunger to overpower me, quite comical, really", he awkwardly coughed.
"allow it to cool before consuming", rina suggested.
mark agreed and went to get his violin that was leaning beside his guitar.
"i'll probably play a piece or two while waiting", mark mumbles.
rina climbed into mark's bed with her feet barely touching the floor, accentuating or perhaps only underscoring the height of his bed with her little stature.
her legs dangled as she observed mark applying rosin–the gum-like substance–to the bow, generating friction between the bow and the strings. he intends to play in my presence within his room? she pondered
with eight deliberate strokes, mark completed the rosin application, employing a fluid back-and-forth motion.
the young man passionately wields his violin, its strings resonating with exquisite melodies, tickling rina's ears.
mark was consumed by his playing; sweat formed delicate beads upon his face. he was otherworldly when in his element, gently swaying to the music he wove, displaying a masterful command over his instrument.
his back remained turned to rina, performing for the walls.
rina gazed upon him with an intense fascination, for he could still manifest the violin's enchantment. it seemed that he retained mastery over everything but their shared memories. was she that forgettable?
the doctor had informed them that recollection of events preceding the accident was nearly impossible for mark. rina remembered the day she wept so hard, witnessing mark all tubed up in the confines of the hospital bed, his head swathed in thick, blood-stained bandages. he was just fifteen, and she was fourteen. she relentlessly blamed herself, while her mother's panicked cries reverberated through her mind. she buried herself in mrs. lee's arms, feeling undeserving of her son and her benevolence. "it was an accident, dear. none of this is your fault", mrs. lee's consoling voice hushed her, yet the inner voices persisted.
she shouldn't have played with him that day. he could've been practicing in his house instead– unharmed.
rina became emotional, and one tear dared to escape her eyes just as mark ended the foreign piece.
"czardas, v. monti–" mark turns around.
"oh sheet– wait are you crying? am i thaaat good?" mark said with a smug tone.
"don't flatter yourself", rina carefully wipes the tear drop from her face, ruining her eyeliner in the process.
"your eye thingy is smudged", mark tells her.
"my what?"
"your eye lining?" he says unsure, "you look like a panda right now", mark continues as he refrains himself from laughing.
"ahhh" "and it's eyeliner, you fool!"
"whatever, i'll eat now, the porridge is probably warm now", mark puts his mint green violin back into its casing, zipping it up securely.
♬
mark got out off the shower, feeling significantly better than before.
it was lunchtime, and rina had ordered takeout from the nearby chicken shop.
mark was already seated at the dining table, and rina placed the bag of chicken wings in front of them.
the table setup was as follows:
chair - mark - chair chair - water - rice - chicken - chair chair - rina - chair dandruff
mark handed rina her plate and served rice for her.
"thanks", rina replied, avoiding direct eye contact with mark.
"dandruff-ssi, where are your manners mister?" rina squints her eyes at the cat who invited himself on the table.
"no climbing tables okay?" rina pets the cat and puts him down on the floor.
"did you get spicy buffalo wings?" mark unwrapped the foil from the chicken. "yayyYy! you did!" his already prominent cheekbones seemed to rise even higher as he smiled from ear to ear.
"i swear, nothing beats spicy buffalo wings for lunch when you're not feeling well–" mark stated matter-of-factly, "especially when you get your chickens from the kang's", mark gives dandruff a half wing.
"you sure must like your chicken a lot," rina chuckled at the boy.
chicken heals our heart. and that's on freaking facts joshua!
♬
after lunch, mark returned to his room to rest even more.
"what to do now?" rina asks herself.
she thought.. she wanted to relieve their memories, so at least one of them does.
she went and knocked on mark's door.
"mark? i'll get something back at home, would it be alright if i leave you alone for a while?"
