Chapter 42
The silence was discomforting. Jennie was still not talking and Lisa on her seat was starting to get edgy. She could not remember the time when Jennie was not excited to talk to her. Or talk to her, period. She couldn't even make out what was going on inside Jennie's head because the expression on the latter's face was hard to read.
Jennie was looking straight ahead, the headlights beaming in and out on her face, and never once payed Lisa a sideglance. Or a sigh. Or anything that would at least indicate that she was acknowledging Lisa's presence beside her. Not even once. Her eyes weren't as glaring as when they left W Seoul-Walkerhill, but it definitely wasn't the same affectionate and excited as when Jennie would look at her every time. And it disheartened Lisa.
She had stopped trying to start a conversation. For now, at least. She had tried twice--or was it thrice, four times, already? But Jennie had only either gave her a non-committal shrug or a lackadaisical response. Both were discouraging and highly unmotivational.
One time, Lisa was watching the riverbank of the Han river outside her window. She thought it was lovely how the city lights had blurred past its distorted reflection on the water. Jennie would have found it beautiful, the glittering distorted lights dancing in the water surface. But when Lisa told Jennie about it, the latter had only mumbled a non-engaging 'hmm', as if she was lost on her own train of thoughts and she didn't want Lisa to pull her out from her own reverie.
Lisa wanted to ask--she was so close to blurting it out to Jennie, but stopped herself on time because she didn't want to provoke the petite beauty--what the problem was. Why Jennie was giving her the cold, silent treatment now when she was all ears and was so willing to discuss patiently what was going on two nights ago with her. Was it that bad, whatever she did tonight? Lisa asked herself.
And after a long moment of total silence, Lisa wanted to try again. What was the point of her being reckless and impulsive if she would stop trying to engage Jennie in a conversation, however flimsy it would become?
"Jennie?" Lisa called out tentatively. She was back to testing the waters.
"Hmm?" Jennie hummed as an answer.
"Are you mad at me?" asked Lisa.
It took a while before Jennie mumbled an almost inaudible "No."
"Then why aren't you talking to me?" Lisa ploughed on.
"What's there to talk about, Lisa?" Jennie replied without looking at Lisa, with a tone that somewhat indicated that she was tired. It was dragging.
"I don't know. What are you thinking?" Lisa asked.
Jennie ignored it. She completely went quiet and turned her full attention back to the road ahead and Lisa knew there was no point pushing it when Jennie was obviously not up to talk whatever was inside her head.
"Can I, at least, turn the music on?" Lisa asked, her patience was now starting to wear thin.
It was her car, anyway. Lisa thought begrudgingly. She could at least do whatever she wanted to do while being inside it, right? Or even outside it? Or whatever?
Jennie gave her the shrug--again!, that it pushed Lisa to roll her eyes in the dark--as an answer. She randomly picked up from the backseat the mixtape that Chaeng gave her as a welcome home present when she arrived back from her month-long travel. Intro to Dashboard Confessional's Heart Beat Here started filling the air and Chris Carrabba's voice was soon slicing through the silence between them.
Come on home and let yourself heal
You can sleep for a thousand years
It had been a while.
Lisa did not expect nor planned to stay in the country this long. She had never stayed in one country longer than a month after she decided to pursie ger passion. Except when she had to set up the studio and settle in her apartment. She did some paperworks back then, went back and forth between Korea and Thailand (her mother was adamant that she should talk to some important people regarding her decision to settle in Korea, thus the debate about whether it would just be for the time being or not and why she shouldn't) and squeezed in a little travel photography as she did so. Her life back then was pretty fast and blurry, she had forgotten how to anchor--where to anchor herself. The Chipmunk would asked her to stay just a little bit longer but she wouldn't budge. Lisa would have always had reasons to fly away, to see the world. She had always been restless and curious. She did not expect to stay just a little bit longer than she usually would because of, well, someone.
