Angel (Celebrity Kdrama FF)

15

Angela|Si-hyeon

Fear is kind of a strong, awful thing. Isn't it? Not right now, though. It usually overwhelms me, feelings of anxiety. I think it's gotten so bad now that I'm just numb, now.
Sorry. Weird way to start a conversation. Isn't it? You shouldn't have made me feel so comfortable with you. It's on your head, not mine.

Angel...

I love it when you call me that.

I know. What happened?

I went on date one. Some guy. Handsome. Smiles a lot. Nice skin. I suppose he's the kind of person women may dream of when they reach underneath the sheets for the place where their thighs meet. I suppose I can't blame them. I might be gay but he was attractive. My eyes work just as well as they did when I thought there was only one way to be.

Oh. You found him nice to look at, then?

Mm. Like a painting. Like a pretty book cover. I did a lot during that date. In my head, I mean. Had to suppress my panic quite a lot which means I broke down a bit the moment I had a moment of respite in the restroom and again the moment it was over once I was finally alone in my bedroom. I imagined that he was some angel or god... Thing. Here to take me away from this bullshit. Because when death comes, none of it matters quite as much anymore. And the anxiety drifts away like a gently pulled string with every other type of emotion. So I believe. So I dream.

I don't want you to think too much about that sort of thing, Angela... People like you and I go too deep into dangerous fantasies.

But isn't that what life is? Fantasy? We get so caught up in who we are supposed to be. Create a persona so our parents don't hit or hate us. Create a persona so the world doesn't see the bits of us we learnt are wrong. Create all these different people to put up a puppet show for them all until we become strangers to ourselves...
Oh. Wait.
Sorry. I'm monologuing again. How dramatic of me.

I don't think you're dramatic. Well, no, you are but I like you that way. Please keep talking to me, I love learning things about you.

Well... I imagined myself with him. Bola. That's another name I hear a lot. I imagined we were married. And I thought to myself, I could do that. I could. I have the choice to make that many people like me have had to. And I could just as easily force myself to get through some dates, tell my parents it was love at first sight, wait some time... A year or hopefully two before marriage. He'd propose, maybe, if I was good enough. He seems nice enough. Polite enough. Not that I know the guy. He wouldn't hate me as long as I hid myself from him, denying him the chance at a proper romantic relationship with his wife. Forcing him to go to bed with a liar. Would I be able to make up the sounds? Pretend? Would it feel like something was clawing so hard at my throat that I'd give in and have a breakdown in front of him before he touched me? Would he find out? Would he be disgusted by me or tell me he's another gay who just had to do what he had to do? Divorce? Children? I kept asking myself what I did to deserve this... These alternate versions of reality that my mind cooked up. These personas to hold up to the sky, keep in the light while the other sides of me stayed shadows. I kept asking myself why... You have no idea the number of times I've cried today.

"Angel."

"...you called me."

"I did."

"...why? I'm... I don't want to say icky, ha. Or fucked up. Disgusting. Wrong. Alone forever, destined to either force myself to marry a man and make my parents their precious grandchildren to fill the earth with more tired, unwilling humans without the baby's consent or have the truth seep out through guesses and rumours when I stay untethered. The Nigerian girl who doesn't want to marry. The Nigerian girl that is a lesbian. A shame and disgrace to her family. Disappointment to her parents and relatives. Not enough. Never enough. No matter how hard I try. I'm suffocating, Si-hyeon. I'm constantly suffocating. And sometimes I forget. I've gotten so used to being underwater that it feels second nature now - to drown. And yet. Yet. Once in a while, the truth in my soul - whatever it may be - remembers that this place I am in is thinly veiled danger under the guise of necessary safety. And my lungs are flooded with the dark all over again. Do you... Do you understand that...?"