Thanks to Kayla, I got to eat tasty berry pies for free today.
“Make sure to add that blueberry pie! That’s my favorite among all the berry pies you made today. Alright, I’ll hang up now,” I told Kayla on the other line.
“Misty, you told me that so many times now,” she said.
“I know. I’m just so excited for you. Your customers will love your berry pies!”
“Okay, okay. The next time you visit my cafe, you’ll see the berry pies on the menu already. You’re going to have to pay next time!”
“Hey, I’m always paying you.” I laughed, knowing that Kayla was only kidding.
“Anyway, Misty. Got to go now, my boyfriend is here.”
Kayla hung up the call.
I arrived back at my unit at almost 9:00 pm. After all the tastings earlier, Kayla finally agreed with me to add all the berry pies she worked on because she wanted something new to her menu. She informed me she’d be working on making other smoothies, milkshakes, and coffee flavors on her menu next. If her customers like her new menu, Kayla will probably work on adding fresh pastries as well, especially improving the flavors of her macaroons. I requested that she add white chocolate, pistachio, salted caramel, peanut butter, and red velvet-flavored macaroons.
Eventually, Kayla’s Cafe needed a little bit of refreshing new pastries to make her place brighter. Her cafe has been in operation for around five years now, and it is still getting better and better. After trials and errors in balancing the flavors, Kayla finally perfected making berry pies today. Kayla is a kind of a perfectionist when it comes to baking. And I could never be as great as her when it comes to that profession.
“Ah! The blueberry pie was so delicious! I like it better than the raspberry one,” I exclaimed and stretched my arms up. “I feel so stuffed. I feel like I won’t be able to eat another bite! What a day of”—I suddenly remembered the man from earlier— “embarrassment.”
I slapped my forehead, jumped on the sofa, and covered my face with a pillow.
“It was so embarrassing. What did I even tell him that he was rude and joke that he was flirting with me?”
Well, I was pretty reasonable, though. I was trying to thank that man, but he left abruptly. I don’t mind getting my forehead hit on a glass door, anyway, but still, it was kind of him to save my forehead. After that, however, the man got some attitude. He’s got a little annoying attitude.
“But he was also nice? He didn’t need to lend his shirt to me.” Of course, I talked to myself continuously, not waiting for the breezy air coming inside to answer me.
Misty, don’t think about him! He’s not worthy of your time.
I lay on the sofa and stared at the white ceiling for a few minutes.
“Oh, it’s cold,” I uttered to myself, feeling tired.
With tiredness starting to crust me, I closed my eyes for a bit. The man’s clothes smelled good. I ran my hands on the clothes and appreciated how soft they were. Looking at how delicate the fabric is, these clothes must be expensive. I could never buy such expensive clothes.
There was a thought in my mind that I should get this shirt back to him. But there’s no way I could get that done. I didn’t even ask his name. Where else could I locate him? So, although there was no way to get these back to him, I still should wash and carry them inside my bag whenever I go out. Then, perhaps, we’ll bump into each other again.
Ding.
Here we go again, an email notification. “Ms. Rose, please, it’s Sunday!”
And I was right! An email. I opened the notification and instantly saw a long email from Ms. Rose. Did I already mention that she’s our senior developmental editor? But the specific, horrifying one that indeed got my attention was the last part of her message: Submission in three days, Ms. Brooke. Dang! I suddenly remembered I still had 20 pages left to check, review, and edit in the manuscript that I was assigned. I removed my eyeglasses and put them on the table. I then walked into my bathroom to clean myself. When I removed the clothes I was wearing, I remembered him again. Will I be able to see him again and return his clothes? Ah, forget that.
Just forget him, Misty. Why even think of him?
Perhaps, I was too stunned by his aura.
“Well, his eye smile was kind of cute,” I unknowingly uttered.
What did I say? What did I say? I shrugged the thought off and went to shower.
“Ah! So cold!” The water woke the hell out of me.
Unfortunately, I forgot to turn on the heater, and it was freezing. I felt like I was a Popsicle inside a freezer that’s only waiting to be devoured by a kid whining to his mom to give him a Popsicle. So, I showered quickly and went to my bedroom to look for my laptop charger.
“Found you!” I exclaimed when I grabbed my charger.
I rushed back to the living room and started charging my laptop first. Then, since the temperature was colder, I poured myself a cup of hot cinnamon tea and some biscuits, nearing their expiration date. That will do it. Even so, cold weather like this makes me want to tuck in my bed and have a marathon of The Big Bang Theory, or perhaps, old documentaries. Whatever there is that might be perfect for this freezing night. But The Big Bang Theory is my favorite, so I’ll go with that.
“Well, I was wrong. I can perfectly eat more,” I reckoned after taking a bite of the biscuit, realizing I needed some energy to continue working.
I headed back to the living room and scrolled on Twitter for a little bit because my laptop was still charging, anyway. My mind was all over. Add to the fact that my head was abruptly hurting. I’d probably choose to sleep. On times like this, I’d find myself strolling in the hallways of a bookstore, feeling and smelling every bit of the books placed on the shelves—sweet and musky smell that automatically wafts into a book lover’s, well, like me, nose. I like how it would linger in my nose for a moment.
But I’m just so tired and lazy to go; especially because there’s a manuscript waiting for me.
“Oh, if only I didn’t meet that man!” I groaned again.
Ultimately, I saw something amusing on Twitter.
“Oh, it’s this article again. The music topic from earlier?” I remarked upon seeing the same topic on Twitter the two ladies at Ahjumma’s Plate were babbling about.
The engagements under the topic seemed to have increased more, and it got me even more confused and interested in the discussion under the topic.
I read the replies under the music topic.
‘OMG! You guys, a new album coming up! How excited are you?’
‘The feeling is nerve-wracking! It’s always like this whenever Evan Park releases an album.”
‘I listen to all his previous albums and even song covers. He’s amazing.’
‘Very amazing! Even my parents like him!’
‘Evan Park is so funny. Once, he fell off his chair while eating a pizza. It was so funny that we made fun of him for over a week! No one could move on.’
‘Indeed, he is. Nevertheless, he’s so talented and has the nicest personality ever.’
Evan Park.
If I remember correctly, the two women at the restaurant earlier talked about him! Whoa, it seems like he’s certainly popular nowadays, but I haven’t heard of him yet before. Or, I don’t have enough time these days to check out trendy people, music, and such. But I’m starting to get curious, though. From what I already read, he seemed to be a talented person.
I continued reading the replies.
‘Guys, you might as well check out his SoundCloud! He might upload spoilers there!’
‘Yeah, do that! Evan Park likes to give spoilers whenever he releases a new album!’
‘His voice is so heavenly! I could listen to him all day.’
‘He mostly does R&B, but he can sing all genres! Pop and hip-hop? He can also do those!’
‘Yeah, he likes to have karaoke sessions whenever he does a live broadcast on Instagram!’
‘Don’t forget he also dances and raps!’
‘Take note, he also produces music for the famous idols and groups nowadays!’
“In a nutshell, he is a complete package!’
Evan Park seems interesting.
Should I look for his SoundCloud then? I suddenly wanted to relax, so a bit of music could help me to relax my mind for a moment. Before I dwell into yet another bone, spine, mind-tingling, or whatever part of my entire body system that’s prone to getting weak every time I work on the manuscripts assigned to me, I need some music first. God, I even need to come to the Publishing House tomorrow. I mean, in a few hours.
“Listen to Evan Park’s music it is!”
But I had no idea what Evan Park’s account was. Oh, wait. That’s right; I should read more replies. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything, as no one had mentioned it yet.
However, I got a little impatient from too much scrolling on the reply section as every second passed, considering that I still had some work to finish, so I asked for it myself.
‘Hello. Can anyone share the link to his SoundCloud? Thank you.’
After a few minutes, I received a notification.
Finally!
‘It’s EvanPark85! Here’s the link!’
A bit of hesitation came rushing into me, thinking if I should continue or not. I tapped my finger on my table while thinking, but I realized I was only wasting my precious time when I should just continue my work. But it was too late; I didn’t know I had already clicked the link the fans on Twitter gave.
A blue wave of the sea with a golden sun setting was on Evan Park’s profile banner, which fascinated me for a while. The scenery of his profile banner looked so pretty. He probably likes the sea. Additionally, written on his profile part is short information about him, such as music, dance, and art. Well, it seemed like the people on social media were correct. Evan Park’s into a lot of things.
I was in awe, so I went to the ‘Tracks’ corner and saw all of his songs categorized based on their genres. There were a lot of songs and covers. Unbeknownst to me at first, my eyes were already glimmering. I don’t know, but I was kind of excited to listen to his songs all of a sudden. So I started scrolling and chose the one titled ‘Sweet Dreams.’
“That’s beautiful,” I uttered softly when the intro of the song came in.
It was only the song’s first verse, but I felt like I’d listened to this a hundred times before. Of course, I’m not in the position to critique songs, but I must say that I liked them already. The tone of his voice was mesmerizing. How come I haven’t heard of him before? Maybe, I was just so busy at work to know about him.
Not to sound like an exaggeration, but when the chorus came, I felt like I was merrily floating in the cold air, the wind brushing against my skin. The song’s melody seemed to have changed from a mellow tone to a rock mellow. Songs like this are my go-to ones. I would listen to calm songs like this when I felt over drained already on reviewing and editing manuscripts. Such songs ease my mind as they make me focused and relaxed. Well, except when the lyrics are sorrowful. But sometimes, sorrowful songs help when specific parts of the manuscript are of tragedy as well.
Evan Park’s voice color is truly unique, I must say. It was simply sweet but full of complex shades. I didn’t even realize that it had ended already.
“Oh, it has ended?! I liked it so much. Alright, what’s next on the list? Let’s see,” I whispered to myself and started browsing his tracks again.
A particular song title caught my attention for the second time. Diary.
The song started with moderately slow guitar chords for a few seconds, then came in his soft voice.
‘I was walking in a dark alley….’
‘Horrific voices were whispering to me.’
‘Is this even me?’
‘I can’t breathe properly.’
Why is this song so beautifully sad? He sings every line with conviction and feeling. The lyrics were so relatable too. I felt like the lyrics somewhat refer to people having trouble with themselves. It’s like being in a phase of trying to discover your true self when you’re trapped in unending obstacles and that there’s no way out unless you’ll believe in yourself.
When the chorus came in, it became even sadder to listen to it.
‘How shall I live?’
‘How shall I survive?’
‘I feel like I’m not myself.’
‘I don’t belong in this world.’
Listening to the song felt like listening to a diary being read aloud by a person. Then, suddenly, it hit me. Was this his diary? Did this happen to him in real life? Oh, I’m just overthinking.
The song ended in three minutes.
“One more! Promise I’ll resume the manuscript!” I hissed to myself and continued choosing the next song that I would listen to next.
“You don’t miss me,” I read the title.
It sounded sad, but I continued.
I positioned myself on the sofa and placed my phone on the table, with the song on a high volume. It’s freezing now, and I felt peaceful listening to Evan Park’s music.
My eyes were closing.
“Ouch—!”
My body hit the floor.
“Ugh, my arm! Did I sleep—Oh, my gosh! I slept?! I slept! Why did I sleep? Wait, what time is it?” I was whimpering, nearly on the verge of tears.
I checked my phone. 12:00 a.m.!
Darn it! I slept so peacefully. I slept for 2 hours straight.
I shouldn’t have listened to Evan Park. If only I didn’t, I could have done three pages already. What was I thinking? Right, relaxation.
Ugh, relaxation, my feet. Now I’m about to feel all stressed out.
I quickly opened the manuscript and went to the page I left last night. Ms. Rose gave me only seven weeks to finish the manuscript because the writer wanted to rush it, and now I’m on the last few pages. This manuscript is long, about 400 pages. So even though I work 8 hours six days a week, it still isn’t enough, as there are other works to do when I’m at the publishing house. That’s why I always take my separate office laptop with me at home.
When I checked my phone, it was already 2:00 am, and I had finished seven pages already. I need to be at the publishing house at 9:00 am later, so I already decided to get ready for bed. I closed my laptop, put my phone inside my pocket, and drank warm water before going to my bedroom.
“Yahoo! Time to sleep!” I screamed when I finally felt the softness of my bed against my back.
Now, this is what you call a moment of relaxation.
I closed my eyes and started to get sleepy.
But then—
“WHAT’S UP SEOUL?!!!”
Whatever is that loud, distracting sound!