Then, There Was Aine ✅

Second Movement

Chopin. Norturne No. 2 in E Flat Major.

The melancholic tune wrapped around his consciousness, lilting then trilling. Jaejoon smiled at the familiar melody.

Music.

His chest ached as he welcomed his long lost muse.

Is this heaven?

He waited until the last notes faded away before he tried to open his eyes. As it turned out, the weights hanging onto his lids were too heavy so he only managed to open them for a few centimeters before they fell shut once more. After a while, he gave up trying and allowed the next melody to put him back adrift into the sea of unconsciousness.

The next time he regained his senses, a new sound was playing in the background. He searched his foggy memory until he recognized it as Debussy's 2 Arabesques. The lively tune helped clear his mind a little and gave him enough energy to attempt opening his eyes again.

Piercing, white light caused him to groan in pain. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw the profile of a woman sitting in front of a piano. It looked very similar to the one he had at his remote cabin in Jeju Island, where he had spent the last year in solitude. Yet the woman was completely foreign to him. He observed her a little more through the pounding in his head, noting her upright posture as she glided her fingers through the keys. Her movements flowed like water through a rocky stream. And the music that she played – it quenched his parched soul.

"Cheonsa," he heard himself say.

His voice, not yet fully awakened, came out low and scratchy.

At the sound of it, her hands froze on the keys. She turned towards him with a squeak, bringing her face to light.

The air that he didn't even know he still breathed – because dead people don't breathe, right? – got stuck in his throat. He had called her angel and the face before him definitely belonged to one.

Long black hair fell to her shoulders in natural waves. Her delicate features, a perfect mixture of Asian and Western, were the kind that actresses he used to date tried to achieve by spending millions of won on cosmetic surgery.

"You startled me," she said as she held a hand to her heart.

A frown of confusion marred his face.

"Mueoragoyo?" he responded.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I can't speak Korean," she replied as she walked towards him. "How are you feeling?"

He felt her cool hand brush against his forehead. He closed his eyes at the pleasure of it. Then, he tried to process her words.

Angels speak English? he thought to himself.

He cleared his throat and jogged his memory for the right words.

"You... angeleu?" he tried again.

Her laugh, husky and seductive, tickled his ears. He frowned. Was she the kind of angel that tempted mere mortals into sin?

"No, no, I'm not an angel," she said while waving her hands in front of her. "I'm sorry for coming into your house like this, but I got lost then the rain suddenly came pouring. Your house was the only one I saw so I came to check if I could stay. When no one answered, I went in because the door was unlocked. Good thing I did, though, because you nearly drowned yourself. Why were you drinking while taking a bath?"

The rush of unfamiliar words that came out of her mouth caused his head to hurt even more. He groaned louder and pressed his hands against his temples.

Heaven is starting to feel more like hell.

But what did he expect? The way he had lived his life these past few years didn't warrant him a place in paradise. He saw the angel leave his side. When she returned, she had a glass of water in one hand and a worried look on her face.

"Here," she said as she pushed the glass towards him, "drink this."

He was already lying on his side so he propped himself up on one hand as she pressed the glass to his lips. He gulped down as much of the water as he could, feeling it wash away the foul taste in his mouth before soothing his dry throat. Once he was done, he lay back down again noting the sound of rain and thunder. Come to think of it, it had also been pouring when he started drinking last night.

Wait, why is it raining in the afterlife?

Something didn't feel right. He took stock of his surroundings and realized that he really was in the living room of his cabin in Jeju. He was lying on his own couch, his body wrapped in a comforter. The piano that she was playing was indeed the one that he hadn't been able to bring himself to touch in the 365 days of his self-imprisonment.

He looked back at her with a frown on his face. If he wasn't dead and this wasn't the afterlife, then who the hell was she?