My face is practically glued onto the window of the taxi as I scrutinise everything. It isn't that much more different than Shoreditch except for the picturesque, charming buildings littering every street we turn into. It almost feels as if I have been thrown into a black hole which decided to suck me out into an ancient dimension. I sort of like it.
The weather was a bit of a shock since I am from a very cold city, but I think with time, I could get used to it. It's not that I hate the warmer weather; honestly, it's better. The winter days in Shoreditch reach negative degrees a little too much.
I heave an exhausted sigh, leaving some mist on the window and after wiping away said mist, I shift away from the window to lean back into my seat. Nervously grinding my teeth against one another and biting onto the inside of my bottom lip, I fear one thing in this foreign city. One thing. And that is dying all alone without a family. Who will bury me? Who will mourn me? I'll just be thrown in a ditch and left there to rot like a meaningless statistic.
Okay, no, it's not that. I probably shouldn't be joking about death, but at the back of my head, I do sometimes think about how it would go if I do end up dying.
Aunt Merlin was waiting for me at her house; said she couldn't make it to the bus station on time and didn't want me to wait for her so she just sent me the address and told me to simply catch a taxi to her place.
Nervously, I walked out of the bus station with nothing but my duffel bag and gave the first driver I came across the address to her house. I was anxious about that, but as the miles have been covered I have gotten over it and the tension in my body has been evaporated, leaving me quite relaxed. Now I'm anxious about not being accepted. What if the administrators from Oxford decide that I'm not good enough? What will I do then?
Amma will be so disappointed. My sister will rejoice especially with how adamant she is about making sure that Dominic and I end up together, I understand why. Ji Ho will hug me sympathetically and then shyly run away without saying anything else. Yang Jin, well I don't think he would care that much. I mean, he did say that he wanted to break the wall between our rooms so that he can have a bigger bedroom. He will surely be bummed that he can't do that anymore.
"It's not that bad, you know?" the chauffeur assures me in an accent that is definitely not from this region.
"What's not that bad?"
"Oxfordshire. You look like you're dreading being here, but honestly it's not that bad."
"How do you know that?" I ask him, and he keeps his eyes solely on the road.
"I'm not from here. I know it gets better after a while."
Is that why you're a chauffeur, I want to voice, but I decide to keep my rude comments to myself so as to not offend the person who literally holds my life in the palm of his hand.
What if he chooses to just cause a car accident because I was being a rude son of a biscuit? I have a future ahead of me; I don't want to die just yet. At least let me experience certain things. Like partying, I would like to do that a bit more now that I won't have to adhere to my overprotective mother's rules.
Hopefully, I recall the events that happened there this time because my mind is blank after Fleance left me in that room. Dark and unfilled. I could have been roofied, for all I know.
"I am actually only here for the weekend to get interviewed and then I might be going back to Shoreditch," I murmur instead, rubbing my temple for no particular reason. "I really hope it's not that bad because I might possibly spend a couple of years here."
"What do you mean?"
"Uh… well, I want to go to Oxford."
"The place?"
"The university. Oxford the university."
"Wow, so you're getting interviewed by the University of Oxford. That's one of the most prestigious schools in England." He glances at me momentarily using the review mirror and I don't miss the impressed look which jumps onto his expression. "Maybe even in the world. You must be very smart then."
"Yeah, I guess," I mutter under my breath, burying my chin into my chest.
When I hear the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tyre, I gaze outside the window and the car starts to slow down until coming to a halt altogether.
"Well, here we are," he announces as my eyes focus on the cosy house that he has pulled in front of. "You owe me a tenner, mister."
"Uh… I don't have any money."
"What?" He turns around to look at me with a scathing stare which makes me forget that he's the man who complimented me not so long ago. "Is this some sort of prank? For the internet? Are you a YouTuber? You know, I knew you looked familiar."
"No, I am not a YouTuber," I try to assure him but his piercing stare is unrelenting. "I mean, yes, my videos are on the internet but I did not create that channel."
"I don't believe you."
"My aunt will pay you. Let me just quickly call her out."
He stares at me expectantly as if to silently ask me what I'm waiting for.
Fumbling my phone out of the side pocket of my bag, I quickly dial my aunt. It rings for a few seconds and at first, she unfortunately does not pick up the call. With a strained smile, I dial her again with the driver glowering at me. In my head, I urgently urge my aunt to pick up her phone before I am murdered in this foreign city and what I was afraid would happen, actually becomes a reality for me.
We both wait for my phone to quit dialling and for her to answer her phone.
Both impatiently.
Finally, she picks up.
"Seong Jin," she exclaims with a tone of excitement and I all but melt into a puddle of relief in the seat, gesturing to him that she actually picked up. "Sorry I didn't pick up. Is everything okay?"
"Um… I'm here."
"Outside?"
"Ne, Imo. Bakke."
"Well, come on in then."
After glancing up at the taxi driver who is still watching me intensely, I awkwardly avert my gaze and cover the speaker of the phone to whisper, "Nae saeng-gagen i sarami nareul jugigo sipeohaneun geos gata."
"What do you mean? Who wants to kill you?"
"Dowajuseyo."
"Okay, I'm on my way," she exclaims when she hears the fear and desperation in my voice.
I hear some shuffling in the background until her door eventually opens and out comes Aunt Merlin, looking around frantically. I hang up.
Honestly, I was expecting her to come out in a thick nightgown and her hair sticking up in all kinds of directions with a cup of tea burning into her palm surprisingly steady even through her frantic movements, but she is dressed cleanly. Her outfit matches, the light blue skirt resting nimbly under her knees. Her hair is cut short, reaching her shoulders.
When my eyes meet hers, she grins widely. Elegantly, she tiptoes down the three stairs leading down to her lawn.
"Linny?" the driver murmurs in disbelief. "She's your aunt?"
"You know her?"
"Know her?" he echoes after me and trains his eyes back onto my aunt who prompts me to get out. "Yeah, you could say that."
After watching the driver weirdly from his wistful stare which is directed right at my aunt, I take a huge breath in as if that's supposed to give me courage and push the door open the very same moment he hurries out of the car, I assume to open my door for me as well, but I don't wait for him to even reach my side. I'm more than capable of opening my own door; that might be why God gave me two working hands.
Slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder, I shut the door and turn around to tug my lips up tentatively.
"Oh, Seong Jin!" she squeals happily and pulls me into her arms, squeezing me tightly. So much that I'm almost afraid that she'll suffocate me. Jesus, does she lift weights or something? "Look how big you've gotten?"
"Annyeonghaseyo, Imo." I bow my head slightly. "You're—love the new hair. Makes you look bold."
"That is the look I was going for." She quirks her shoulders up in a preppy manner. "There is this gentleman who I'm trying to impress so he can court me and I thought—"
A throat clears.
Aunt Merlin's eyes avert onto the man and they evidently widen in shock, but also recognition.
Oh, they know each other alright.
When she blushes a faint crimson red, I don't know whether to blame the frosty wind which rushes past us or the intense look that the driver is giving her. It's probably the latter.
Do they like each other? A little shiver runs down my spine and I don't know whether to blame that on the wind or the contents rising up inside me. It would've been worth fangirling over if this wasn't my aunt. The way they are undressing each other with their eyes is not only making me uncomfortable, but it's nauseating too.
"Linny," he acknowledges with a bow.
"Henry." She curtsies.
What is this? The Elizabethan era?
When this goes on for too long, I clear my throat loudly. They both snap out of it.
"Oh, the taxi fare." She takes out a tiny, blue purse from her jacket's pocket and fumbles around through her money. "How much was it again?"
"A tenner," I tell her, repeating Henry's words from earlier on.
"Oh, it's quite alright," Henry protests, causing my aunt to pause in her actions. "You don't have to pay me."
"Oh, no. I insist."
"She insists."
"We know each other, Linny. I cannot make a friend pay me for dropping her nephew off. Consider this me returning the favour from the time we—"
"Yes," my aunt exclaims, cutting him off before he can reveal what they did that one time. I have a feeling I don't want to know. "Thank you, Henry. I really appreciate you dropping off my nephew safely."
"You're most welcome, Linny."
Lengthening silence. Longing stares. Loving smiles.
"I'm cold," I interrupt them again and I definitely don't miss the irk which passes through Henry's eyes when he looks at me.
Well, excuse me, but I am not going to freeze my arse off out here just so they can stare fervently in each other's eyes for God knows how long. I'm cold and I would appreciate a cup of piping, hot tea. I hear that my aunt makes really good tea. Maybe, just maybe, I'll have another reason other than the University of Oxford to stay in Oxfordshire. Perhaps I'll consider staying also for a nice, hot beverage.
"Yes, well let me boil us some water and make us a few cups of tea."
Ah, you have read my mind, good aunt.
"Would you care to join us, Henry?"
Nevermind, not-so-good aunt.
* * *
I wake up frighteningly to the vibrations on my face and the sound of my ringtone fills the walls of my new room. Ever since Taylor introduced me to this soulful group, Boys II Men, I have just been obsessed with them. I don't think a day goes by without listening to at least all the songs from all of their albums.
Groaning irritably and rubbing a hand down my face, I grab the device from underneath my face without opening my eyes. The windows of this room don't obscure the bright glare of the sun from puncturing into it.
I slide a finger over the screen, asking myself who'd call me this early in the morning. Amma? I press the phone against my ear.
"Hello?" my voice comes out roughly.
"Hello," a fairly professional voice speaks through the device, "am I speaking to Seong Jin Lee?"
For a split second I worry that Chu Hua actually did spam my contacts with a penis enlargement advertisement. If she did then she's also going to receive an earful from me too. She along with her twin.
I still cannot believe that he's the lip balm chewer. In fact, he was the last person I suspected. I would suspect my own parents before suspecting my purely innocent, little brother. The real question is why he did it and how come he told hyeong that he was doing that in the first place.
"Who's asking?" I ask cautiously.
"This is Patricia Hamilton from the University of Oxford and I'm just calling to confirm that you'll be coming to the interview this afternoon, is that correct?"
I'm suddenly very much awake.
"Yes!" I exclaim too loudly while simultaneously sitting up in my bed with a crack from the bones in my bone echoing clear in the room. I clear my throat and bring my voice down to a proper octave. "I mean, yes. I will be there at two p.m., right?"
"Yes, two p.m. sharp," she confirms.
"Um… okay. I'll be there… on time," I say, barely containing my happiness.
"Okay, see you then."
After she hangs up I can't hold it in anymore. I squeal and start jumping up and down on the bed with excitement bubbling within me.
Until my aunt runs into my room with a bat in her hand and I immediately stop bouncing, planting my arse on the bed. Her hair is sticking up in different directions and her eyes wildly take in her surroundings, searching for the danger. She sees me sitting down silently and quietly, watching her sheepishly.
"Coast is clear, Imo," I reassure her with a stiff grin.
She shakes her head exasperatingly.
Later in the day, I come out of the bathroom, smelling as nice and fresh as the bubble bath has made me smell. Mum doesn't buy the bubble bath bottle, because she says that it apparently damages your inner parts. I think she just made that up to save some money, but it has gotten to that point in our house that if one of us even mentions her buying us the bubble bath bottle, she'll get mad.
I skim through the attires which I laid down yesterday for today.
One of the outfits is a plain, grey one-piece which my aunt advised me to wear with dress shoes. Dismissively, I push it away and instead grab the blue-black trousers which now sit tight around my hips due to my slight weight gain. I pair it with a dull, orange shirt and a blue-black suit jacket atop my upper body with some dress shoes. An earring too.
Looking into the mirror, I tilt my head to the side and my gaze flickers down my body to consider my fashion sense. Does it scream too much formality?
Squinting slightly, I decide to take off the earrings, the dress shoes and the orange shirt too and instead wear a dark grey tee with some white trainers. I apply a nude lip balm. It's one of the few that my younger brother wasn't able to chew onto. Really, how is he the lip balm chewer? Rolling my lips to evenly spread it, I grin at my reflection. It smiles back at me.
Now, all I have to do is fix the messy nest that is bundled atop my head.
I even wear the glasses that I rarely ever put on. To look extra smart. Since I do sit in front of most of my classes, I don't need them. Even if I do sit at the back, I tend to copy notes from the person I'm sitting next to.
After cleaning up after myself, like wiping the glass door of the shower dry so that I don't get a scolding from my mum if she asks me how I behaved here in Oxfordshire, I dash out of my room and into the kitchen. I love Aunt Merlin's house because it's a one storey house. There aren't any stairs that you have to climb up and down. This means I don't work out as much as I do back home.
The sizzling of the bacon hits my senses and I take a seat on the stool behind the island, reciting a good morning at her. She smiles and dishes up for us. A normal, balanced breakfast. She fills two cups with the hot beverage from yesterday but replaces the tea with coffee for me. Yesterday, I shyly admitted to not liking tea after Henry left. She grinned at me amused and told me that I didn't need to be so scared to confess that.
I was relieved that she wasn't offended or made it a big deal that I was in her house and didn't want to drink her infamously good tea. She then places the teapot in the middle of the table. A refill is due. The plate in front of me has toast coated in butter, two fried eggs, sausages and bacon. Hers is complete with sliced tomatoes and fried onion rings. I like neither of those things.
"Imo, this out of control," I exclaim, looking at her in flabbergast. "Did you make all of this?"
She blushes red, resting her serviette on her left neatly, fork facing me and knife facing her.
"If you need to leave, it's fine," she says to me.
She still manages to look hopeful almost as if she doesn't want me to leave without eating. I look at all the food again and poke the inside of my cheek, feeling the slight hole that has remained there from my braces.
The truth is my aunt is a horrible cook. Her food makes my entire family run for the hills and never return even if the hills are torturous. Halmeoni never taught her how to cook, because Amma was always more than happy to cook for the entire family. Although since she did wake up early just to cook for me, I guess I can't run for the hills.
"No," I force a smile on my lips and take a deep breath in subtly. "I'm famished."
A large smile grows on her face, and she seems pleased with my answer. She hands me a serviette across the table, and I politely accept it with a small grin. I grab my fork and knife and when she says a word of grace, thanking God for the food, I instead pray that the food goes down and stays down while I'm eating. Hopefully, I won't get food poisoning. She ends with amen and I echo after her.
When I cut the toast and place it in my mouth, a breath of relief leaves my lips. At least that tastes fine. Then I slice a small piece of the eggs and hesitantly put it in my mouth. My aunt stares at me curiously. I chew cautiously and when she asks me if it's any good, I gulp the substance down painfully.
Jesus, that was salty as fuck!
"Good; it's good," I manage to choke out, coughing slightly behind my fist.
She smiles and slumps down in relief, forking some of it into her mouth too. She munches happily until she pauses mid-chew. I avert my gaze awkwardly, hoping that she doesn't see the way my eyes are watering from the salty eggs. Slowly, she chews again, but then her nose wrinkles and she forces herself to swallow the eggs.
When she slowly glances up at me, I quickly take the toast and shovel it into my mouth to make it seem like I'm enjoying the food. Only the toast is edible, really. She tries again after seeing my reaction, but again she scrunches her face up in disgust and pushes the plate away, reaching for her tea.
"Seong Jin, this food is a little too salty, don't you think?" She takes a sip of her tea. "The eggs are practically burning my taste buds off."
"What, no. Imo, it's great. Really." I reach for my coffee to help my burning taste buds too.
"No." She takes the plates away and puts them on the sink. Pulling out a tenner from a jar of money resting on the counter she hands it to me. "Get yourself something to eat from the café down the street. I cannot have you eating this when you're going to an important interview. What if you soil your trousers in the middle of it?"
"If it counts for anything, you make really good coffee."