It Ends with Us • Kim Mingyu

[twenty-three]

We spend the better half of the night watching YouTube videos and dyeing Minseo's underlayer hair wine red. Right before 12, when her parents were supposed to come to wish her, she hides all the supplies under the bed and sits with her notebook open on her lap. When they walk in with the cake, the candle lights illuminating their quiet, excited faces, she acts surprised and stands up to clap for herself. We sing, watch Minseo blow out the candles, cut the cake, feed it to us, and the brand new oil color set and a hair straightener her parents gift her. Mrs. Kim cups her cheeks and kisses her forehead. Minseo giggles and hugs her. Mr. Kim stands far, watching them like they were long columns of newspaper articles, before quietly walking out of the room. 

Before Mrs. Kim follows him, Minseo tells her she will do her English homework in the guest room with me. Mrs. Kim frowns and tells her to leave me out of it as the journey has been exhausting, but Minseo holds my hand and tells her that I have agreed to help her (I can't remember. Did I ever?) With her googly, restless pupils pleading to mine for a save, I'm conditioned to give in and say I'm just going to lie down and check her work when she's done — it's not much work. 

Mrs. Kim isn't much convinced, but before she can say anything, Minseo walks her out of the room. She grabs all the hair supply and her school bag and leads us outside the room and into the kitchen. She grabs two soda cans and gestures me the way to the guest room. Being right beside the balcony, I took it for a store room when I first saw it, but inside, it's as big as Mingyu's room, with a bed, cupboard, book shelf, and a desk. With neat walls and floors giving off a homely warmth, it looks like someone stayed here not too long ago.

"Grandma stays sometimes when she visits," Minseo says, locking the door behind her. "I'm thinking of shifting here next month. I use slime head's room mostly when he's not around, but it smells like grass cologne and wet sweaty towels sometimes. Not the kind of thing for me, but privacy is an issue with my mom and dad. Living right next to them wasn't much of a big deal when I was little. But now, it gets a bit suffocating. Mom said if I ever wanted to move out, I could use this room." 

Minseo sticks her hands to the side of her hips and gazes around the walls, as though she's searching for a missing spot in one of her paintings. Shaking her head, she says with the corner of her mouth drooping down, "I don't really like the view here. Sunlight is scant, and the next door neighbors are always hanging clothes and underwear on their window bars or the balcony. It's a disgusting view when I'm trying to think of something beautiful to draw. Then again, the definition of beautiful is very subjective. My classmates are so weird you'd think they'd find the sight of water dripping from a wet underwear beautiful. Anyway unnie, I think we should sit on the floor. We can't spill anywhere, especially on the bed. Dad will scold us."

I try to breathe out a laughter, but somehow, it ends in a yawn. "Wow, is he scary?"

"When he's pissed. Then again, who isn't?" Minseo says while unzipping her bag. She shakes out all the supplies on the ground and methodically tidies them up. She works and talks fast for a girl who somehow appears both soft and intimidating. A perfect blend of both parents. I guess it's her ticklish baby face against her enormous height and husky voice. I don't know how all that harmonizes in one person. 

"Do you sing, Minseo?" I ask. 

Without looking at me, she says, "Why do you ask?" 

"Well, I think you got a good voice." 

"People in my class used to tell me I sound like Adele if she was made out of plastic, was terribly off-key, and was miserably unsuccessful. That's just how bad my voice was. I don't know about now. Hey, am I supposed to mix this tube with the color, or is it a conditioner?"