Monday, February 6, 2012, 8:21 PM
chasing.cinderella





Once upon some long nights ago, I danced under the marveling moonlight, twirled by the twinkling stars, and kissed-like I’ve never taken a breath in my life before. I experienced more than butterflies, held more than hands, and whispered silent promises with my gaze. In that one moment, we loved-like we were made for each other. We held each other’s heart in our hands and I saw him so clearly in my future. So someone tell me why, why am I watching as he’s standing at the altar, with love-my love-in his eyes, waiting for another girl?



I stare out the window of my car, as she smiles, waving to the passing by guests; the bouquet of ripe red roses in her free hand, the other wrapped around his arm. The sun kisses her lovely skin, her long golden brown locks dance around playfully in the wind as she giggles softly, whispering into his ears. He smiles, so handsomely, like they were made for each other. There’s endless cheering and chattering, the clinking of glasses, laughter, and giggles-but I hear nothing, nothing but the sound of my beating heart escalating. There she was, Ahn Sohee-Cinderella.







Everyone thinks they know the story-Cinderella, the kind and generous selfless girl, who grew up under her evil stepmother and stepsister’s demands. Cinderella, the girl who slaved days and night before she was allowed to go to the ball; only to have her stepsisters rob her of her one and only chance. Oh, and who could ever forget, the fairy godmother who turned pumpkins into convertibles, rags to chiffons, and conjures glass slippers out of thin air with a simple ‘bippity boppity boo’ and a wave of her silly wand? No, no one really knows the story. They only think they know and only chose to acknowledge so because they’ve long for their own happy ever after.


Fairy godmother? Grandma. Pumpkins? Sohee was literally born with it, Chairman Ahn-or how my father liked me to call her, mother-lined up the garages with so many makes and models of automobiles my age can never catch up with. Evil stepmother? Yes, but she wasn’t my mother. My father, my pathetic father is the sore loser. The only thing he has entitled to him in his whole life was his small boat-the thing I had called home before he married the evil madam, to which he has now wrapped in bows and given to Sohee as her wedding gift. Evil stepsisters? One, me-apparently. And the glass slippers-okay, I give her that one. The shimmery black Versace pumps were Sohee’s, but that’s the only thing I borrowed. Sort of. Last but not least, Prince Charming-Kwon Jiyong.


We were never meant for more than friends, Jiyong and I. Kwon Jiyong and Ahn Sohee were made for each other. They were a ticking time bomb, waiting to happen; engaged at such a young age, yet neither harbored feelings for the other. It was as if they were almost invisible to each other-until now. It was never suppose to happen. Perhaps that is why he is standing at the altar with Ahn Sohee, and not me. But that night, when Kwon Jiyong held out his hand and charmingly ask me for a dance, I couldn’t refuse.





Kwon Jiyong, you idiot. Why do you think the shoes fell off in the first place?






They say it is first impression that leaves the deepest imprints in the heart. My heart did a double take-something that felt a lot like going down the highest roller coaster ride in the whole amusement park, the air gets thinner, my breathing heavier until I almost forgot how it was like to breathe, like I’ve left something behind-when I first laid eyes on Kwon Jiyong, strutting down the long corridors of the university with his best friend, Choi Seunghyun, in tow. His eyes, warm brown eyes staring back at me, grinning with innocence as he introduced himself to me. Right away I knew, Kwon Jiyong was going to be a part of my life, whether he wanted to be or not.


And over the years that was how Kwon Jiyong was, a part of my life-my past, my present, and presumably, my future, whether I wanted it or not.




“I don’t even know why I have to go to this thing. It’s retarded. Who goes to masquerade balls now a days?”


“You’re going because you have to do a speech,” I tell him.


“And I think it’s a complete waste of my time.”


I push my glasses back and set the papers on the desk, forcing his legs off of the surface, my face curling in annoyance. I finally look up at him, coming to a conclusion that it was hopeless to hope that Jiyong would suddenly realize I’ve been ignoring him for the past twenty minutes and leave me alone. I can only dream. “Kwon Jiyong, why are you here? To annoy me? To bother me? To get me fired?”


“To get you fired?” Jiyong sits up in his seat. “I hired you, you should be grateful you still have a job.”


My eyes dart back down to the stack of paper as I continue to graze over them. I’m reading, but I’m not really reading. Jiyong has this effect on me. Whenever he’s around, I can’t concentrate, no matter what I’m doing, or how hard I’m trying.


“Are you coming later?” Jiyong asks. I shake my head no at him. It was not my thing. I hated things like these; places that Ahn Sohee would easily fit in. “Is Sohee going then?”


I hear the way Jiyong says her name, carefully caressing her name as he speaks it, like it was almost forbidden. I tell myself it was wrong. My feelings were wrong. I cannot, should not feel for someone who was not mine in the first place. I shrug, though I really knew the answer. Of course she was going. The crazy woman would not not let her go. “Maybe.”


“You should come, Ara.” Jiyong shifts around in his seat. “You know, be my date.”


And in the moment I catch him staring into my eyes, my heart stops breathing. I almost believed him.






“Annyeong.” She waves, her hair bouncing in light curls as she takes a seat next to me. Sohee smiles and her eyes fall into crescent moons. I smile back at her, but my smile fades easily. I hated her. God made it too easy to hate her. She smiles, like there was nothing in the world that could ever wrong her. Tall, thin, beautiful and desired by so many. “I’m so tired. I just came back from helping out the elders at the nursing home.”


Yes. It must be so tiring being you.


“Are you going to go get ready?” Sohee asks me. I shake my head no at her, my eyes falling back to the magazine I was occupying before she broke into my train of thoughts. “I’m not going,” I tell her. To go, was like asking for lecturing. Sohee’s mother didn’t like me to go around to places where she’ll be in the spotlight. I was embarrassing, far from the angel that Sohee was. My awkwardness in society didn’t help much either.


Sohee gets up from her seat. “By the way, will you help me choose my dress?” She runs out of my room, only to quickly return with two dresses in her hand. “Which one?” I stare at them, but I’m not really looking. “The blue one,” I tell her. “It’ll compliment your skin.” Sohee stares at it for a while. “I was thinking the black dress, so I can wear them with my Versace heels. But I guess the blue one’s fine. I will wear them with my silver pumps.”


Sohee leaves and the room falls into a deafening silence. I can hear my heart pounding, beating to its rhythm. I count as the seconds turn into minutes, as minutes turn into hours. Soon, the soft humming from Sohee’s room dies out. I hear her calling out to me, saying goodnight through my door. I don’t reply. The house is silent. Everything quiets.


I set down the magazine, still opened on the same page it was when Sohee first came in. I leave my room, slowly making my way over to Sohee’s. The door creaks loudly, as if to warn its owner of my intrusion. Darkness envelopes the room, hiding its contents from my eyes, as if to protect it. I reach out and slowly turn on the light. The room brightens up. It brightens up, just like everything brightens up for Sohee. Her room’s brighter, more beautiful even though our rooms are exact replicas. The sun kisses her skin whenever she walks outside, swinging her arms care freely, while it beats down on me, turning me a shade darker than I was before. The wind plays with her locks, dancing with them in the wind while it violently whips my hair in every direction.


I walk in. Everything was still, calm, like as if there had never been anything wrong. My eyes trail down to Sohee’s black pumps, lying on the floor.


I sit down in Sohee’s chair, staring back at my reflection. My hands graze over my glasses, pulling them away from my face as I stare at the girl in the mirror, and as I did this, I wonder. I wonder how it felt to be Ahn Sohee. The truth is somewhere deep down I wanted to be Ahn Sohee. I so desperately wanted to be Ahn Sohee. I wanted to be born with everything; then maybe my heart will be less heavy. Perhaps, if I was born rich like Sohee, I’d have little worries on my mind. If I was born spoiled like Sohee, I’d have the skin of Snow White, and luscious locks like Rapunzel. If I was Sohee, maybe that mad woman will dote on me a bit more. If I was Sohee, my father will love me. But I’m not Sohee.


I reach for her coral pink lipstick, carefully running it across my lips. Tonight I will be Ahn Sohee.



Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?






The wind whipping across my loose strands of hair was enough to remind me I was crazy. I am crazy, and will be in trouble if the mad woman found out I took her car out for a drive. Not just any drive, a drive here, to where she is. I rub my hands through my arms trying to keep myself warm as I enter the enormous hotel, searching for the room, holding up the hems of the black dress I was wearing.


It was a lot warmer inside. A girl directed me to the room only after handing me a black lace mask. I stare down at it, debating whether I wanted to wear it or not. If I was going to play Cinderella, I might as well play Juliet. I put the mask on, carefully double knotting it. I didn’t want anyone to see me tonight. I want people to see Cinderella.


I smile at her and thanked her before finally making my way towards my destination. My heart’s beating, too fast. I can hardly breathe. Slowly, I push the doors open, making my way into the crowd. It was outside, but unlike before, the wind calmly sashaying against the chiffon ribbons, the moon staring brigh


I stop, my jaws nearly dropping. It was too hard to even be seen in this crowded room, as much as noticed.


“Annyeong, Ara.”


Startled, I turn around and find Seunghyun standing right behind me. His lips crack into a grin, a handsome grin as he eyes me up and down. My brows furrow at him and I smack him as hard as I can, even though I knew it will do little damage to him. Seunghyun laughs, a soft playful laugh like he often does. It wasn’t hard to see him behind the white mask he was wearing. His built, his posture, everything about him exuded ‘Choi Seunghyun.’


“You startled me,” I tell him as I turn back around, my eyes shifting through the big ballroom. I’m searching for Jiyong, I tell myself, but my eyes still linger on every girl with a blue dress. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know Jiyong was probably with Sohee. I hope not. A girl can only dream so much.


“He’s not here,” Seunghyun tells me, as though I was an open book, too easy for him to read. I turn around but he doesn’t look at me this time. His eyes wander out to the packed ballroom as well. “Jiyong’s not here, yet.”


“I’m not looking for him,” I assure Seunghyun, even though that was a complete lie. Another laugh escapes him. Seunghyun reaches out his hand. “Well then, perhaps you would not mind to let me have a dance?”


A dance. I grimace at the thought of it. Me, dancing? I would never, but before I can give Seunghyun an answer, he pulls me into the middle of the dance floor; swirls of color twirling by. Seunghyun pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me tightly, leading the dance.


“You’re going to stare a hole into my forehead if you keep looking at me, Seunghyun,” I tell him. Seunghyun smiles, his charming smile. It was amazing this man was still single.


“This perfume, it’s not yours, is it?” Seunghyun asks. I pull away from him, staring into those dark brown eyes. It was as if Seunghyun saw right through my façade, my needs and desires to be someone else I was not. I’ve never felt so naked before. “You usually smell different.”


I stop, breaking off the dance. Seunghyun stares at me confused. I look away, avoiding his eyes as if that will help me. “I-I need a drink.” I wrap my arms around me, to barricade myself as I walk away from him. My pace fastens.


I feel Sohee’s heels slipping off, and in my attempt to keep it on, I lost my balance. An arm grabs onto me, stopping me from falling. Startled, I turn around and see Seunghyun. He slowly releases me, making sure I’ve caught my balance.


“Careful,” Seunghyun tells me as he stares down to my heels. “You don’t want to trip on those.”


“Thank you,” I mumble, still unable to look him in the eyes. This was a bad idea, a horrible idea. I wanted to get out of here-to leave. I didn’t belong. I’m not Sohee.


“Stay here, I’ll get you a drink.” Seunghyun leaves.


I take a deep breath, calming my nerves. The music stops and everyone pulls apart. From the corner of my eyes, I catch the familiar blue tone dress. Then I saw her, Ahn Sohee. She was beautiful. Her hair was up, in a small bun, her crescent moons smiling behind her grey mask. She was glowing, everyone stares at her, and just like me-every girl wants to be her. I turn around, shock-scared. And I start to run. I just wanted to run away.


And as I run, a force pushes me back. I fell onto the floor, not realizing I had run straight into a person.


“Are you okay?” That voice. I can recognize that voice in my dreams. I look up, unable to look away from Kwon Jiyong’s worried face. He extends his hand to help me up. Lost, I slowly took it.


“Are you okay?” Jiyong asks again. Slowly, I nod my head, unable to take my eyes away from him. “Yes.”


I stand up. The music begins playing again, softly this time. Jiyong stares at me and I feel my face flushing red. I look away, hoping he doesn’t recognize me. If he did, he would surely make fun of me for my clumsiness. Instead, we stood there awkwardly.


“Would you like to dance?” Jiyong finally asks.


“What?” I mumble as I look up to him again. His lips curl into the familiar smile I’ve grown to love. Jiyong holds out his hand and I stare at it, contemplating. If I was going to be Cinderella, I might as well go all the way. I reach out for his hand, settling mine into his as he wraps his fingers over mine.


We walk into the dance floor, Jiyong leading the way. He pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me, different from how Choi Seunghyun held me-careful, like I was fragile.


“You eyes…are so beautiful,” Jiyong tells me, as if he was staring at them for the first time ever. Perhaps it was the mask or it was because the thick frames it used to hide behind were replaced with contacts. I smile, and the same feeling washes through me again. “Have we met before?”


My smile crumbles a little and I realize in all the years that I’ve known Kwon Jiyong, I have failed to capture his attention as a woman. “Yes, yes we have,” I answer sourly, worried he might catch the familiarity in my voice. He laughs at my response, catching the tone of my voice yet not recognizing me.


“Well then, I apologize for not remembering you,” Jiyong replies. He twirls me, and the space around me fills with rays of colors. My feet are moving, but I’m floating. Jiyong smiles, satisfied with my reaction as he pulls me closer to his embrace. “Perhaps I can get a name?”


“A name,” I repeat. The music sounded so far away now and I can hear Jiyong so clearly in my ears. “I do not wish to share because chances are, you will remember me for the rest of the night, but forget me for the rest of your life.”


Jiyong frowns behind his black mask. “Do you really think so?” My smile fades away as I answer him, unable to look away from his eyes. “I know so.”


His frown grows bigger, and I wanted to laugh at his reaction, only if he didn’t look so serious. “Then, I shall call you Cinderella.”


“Cinderella,” the name rolls off my tongue. So familiar, yet so foreign. “Does not fit me.” I was far off from Cinderella. I was a pauper. Jiyong spins me again, and as I return this time, he holds me closer than before, nestling his head next to mine. I feel my heart escalating, rushing like a mad person. Perhaps I was mad, crazy mad.


“It’s okay,” Jiyong replies. “I’m no Prince Charming, but tonight, I will be your prince charming.”


I hear the song coming to an end, and I begin to prepare myself mentally. I was not ready, no, not ready to let go of Kwon Jiyong. It took me all of my courage to come here. It was going to take more than courage to let go of Kwon Jiyong. Slowly, he pulls me closer, and our lips crush against each other. I was drowning. Drowning, and it was painfully sweet.


The song stops, and I tell myself to let go before I lose my mind. I prepare to pull away but Jiyong tightens his hold. “One more dance.” He begs as he breaks away from our kiss. Jiyong stares back at me with pleading eyes, and I am unable to let go. The music starts again, this time faster, but Jiyong still leads at the same pace.


“You will only make this harder for the both of us when we part,” I warn him, the aftertaste of mint still on my lips.


“If I ask you to stay, will you?”


Jiyong doesn’t spin me anymore. I can no longer hear the music playing in the background. All I hear is his breathing, his eyes staring at me like I was the only living thing in this world, and his smell, his intoxicating smell lingering by my side. We dance, slowly to each other’s rhythm, the moonlight smiling down upon us. The stars were our companion, the wind singing our song.


“Do you know why Peter Pan always loses his shadow?” I ask Jiyong, staring into his eyes.


Just when I thought it was impossible to get any closer, Jiyong embraces me. “Tell me,” Jiyong whispers into my ear, taking a whiff of the perfume I was wearing-of Sohee’s perfume.


“Because Peter Pan always wants to be with Wendy.”


Jiyong ponders at my answer but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you know why?” I ask him, as I stare up to his face. Those eyes, the crease of his smile, everything about it was so foreign to me. It was as if this was my first time laying eyes on Kwon Jiyong. And just like every time, I fall in love.


“You still have yet to answer me,” Jiyong tells me. We stop dancing. I muster all the courage I have left in myself to pull away from him. Yet, Jiyong doesn’t let go of my hand. “Answer me. If I ask you to stay, will you?”


“I can’t. It’s impossible, Jiyong-you-”


“What did you say?” he asks. “What did you call me?”


The music suddenly stops. Everyone turns their attention to the stage. From the corner of my eyes, I see Mr. Kwon, Jiyong’s father making his way to the microphone. Besides him, I see my father with Sohee’s mother. Sohee was nowhere in sight.


“Who are you?” Jiyong ask, curious.


“Thank you all for coming tonight. Now I would like to invite my son, Jiyong, up here for a speech.”


Everyone turns their attention to us. Suddenly, the world was looking at me. I see Sohee, standing behind Jiyong. She’s staring back at me with a hint of familiarity in her eyes. I did the only thing I could do. I ran. I pull away from Jiyong’s hold, and ran, past the staring crowds, past the endless tables, and out the entrance, with Kwon Jiyong screaming behind me.


And as I ran, Sohee’s left heel falls off. Just like Cinderella. And just like Cinderella, I ran to the car, driving off with only one of Sohee’s Versace pumps before the clock strikes twelve. And just like Cinderella, I cry when I got home, returning to my rags.






“Do you know why Peter Pan always loses his shadows?”


I turn away from Jiyong, my eyes fixated on the black pump sitting on my desk. His eyes focus on it, staring hard at the heel, looking for some answer. It was daunting, seeing the heel staring back at me as I work. It was evidence of my sins, and I ponder over and over whether I should tell Jiyong.


‘It was me. I’m Cinderella.’


What would he think? How would he react? I was scared. Kwon Jiyong was betrothed to Ahn Sohee, and will forever be. There was nothing I could do about it. I would only end up hurting myself in the end. I can only hurt so much. It would better if I stay behind the curtains, remaining forever as Go Ara, the girl no one notices.


“Because Peter Pan wants to be with Wendy,” Jiyong sighs. He runs his fingers through the shoe. “Why did she tell me that and leave?”


I stare at him, my heart beating faster. I’m going to tell him. I have to. Maybe, then just maybe, Kwon Jiyong will look at me with those eyes he did nights ago. I’m going to do it.


“Jiyong-”


There’s a knock on the door. We both look up, Jiyong taking his eyes off of the shoe. Slowly, the mahogany door opens, and Sohee walks through. She smiles, politely greeting Jiyong before she turns her attention towards me, a black bag in her hand.


“Ara-yah, I brought you lunch…” Sohee stops her sentence. Slwoly, she inches forward, her eyes on the shoe sitting on my desk. “Oh, my shoe.” She sets the black bag on my desk and carefully picks up the shoe-just as careful as Jiyong picks it up, like it was gold. “How did it…why is it here…” Sohee reaches down, taking off her red pumps. She slips it on, and the shoe fits perfectly. “It is mine!” She smiles, happily, like a child who was just given candy. “How did it end up here…I was looking everywhere for it-Ara, don’t you remember?”


I open my mouth to say something. To say anything, but the words would not come out. My throat ties into a knot, and I watch as Jiyong stares into Sohee’s eyes lovingly. She smiles back with her crescent eyes, those eyes I hated so much.


And it happened. In the blink of an eye, Kwon Jiyong fell in love with Ahn Sohee. Just like that, Kwon Jiyong became a part of my past, my present, and my future-just not with me. Fall came and went. Spring sprouted and died. Summer was approaching. Before I knew it, Kwon Jiyong and Ahn Sohee were getting married.





I stare at the white tent, the breeze blowing softly in the air, the waves softly crashing upon the sands. Even the weather was nice to them. God was too unfair to me. Sohee’s friends greet me, taking my attention away from the tent, complimenting me as the maid of honor. I smile, but it was too hard to. I laugh, but my laughs were full of bitterness. And soon, I excuse myself, making my way towards the white tent.


Jiyong stands before a mirror, nervous. He shakes his hands many times, the diamond ring in his hand. His back, Jiyong’s back, ever so handsome. I walk forward. He doesn’t hear me. Slowly, I wrap my arms around him. It was hard to believe we weren’t meant to be. We fit, just like we were made for each other.


Startled, Jiyong pulls away. “Ara.” My name escapes his lips, followed by a small smile. “What’s wrong?”


“Nothing,” I reply. Nothing is wrong. Everything is right. “Nothing,” I repeated, trying to assure myself. Jiyong looks at me again. “Jiyong, don’t marry her,” I beg. My lips quiver. I’ve never felt so pathetic before. My vision of him begins to blur, and before I knew it, hot tears stream down my cheeks. The smile fades from Jiyong’s face. “Please, Jiyong. Don’t marry her. I-”


“You don’t understand, Ara,” he speaks, so softly, so carefully just like how he caress Sohee’s name. “She makes me feel different. And it’s a good kind of different, Ara. It’s like I’ve never breathed before I met her.”


I shake my head, making my way to him. I reach for his hand. “I like you. Look at me. It’s me. It was me.” I cry, my words breaking down. “No, Jiyong. It was me. You kissed me. The shoes, the dress, the dance-it was me. It-it fell off because it was Sohee’s shoes. Because they were-because-”


“You were right, Ara.” Jiyong says. He doesn’t look at me, instead his eyes stay glued to the ground, the ring twirling around in his free hand. “I did remember you that night. I remembered you the night after that, and the one after that, in fact, many nights after that.” He finally looks up from the ground, slowly wrapping his hand around the small diamond ring. “But, now, I think it’s time I forget. And you should do the same, Ara.”


“No, Jiyong-” I can’t even finish. It was hard to breathe. I felt cheated. God teased me, and then cheated me. Jiyong releases my hold, and as he walks by me, and I reach for his hand, my hold tightening. I was pathetic, crazy pathetic. Since I’ve came this far, I might as well go all the way. “No, no, no-I don’t believe you.” I fall to the ground, my hold tightening. I’m not going to let Jiyong go. It was too hard, too painful. The void in my heart was too great, even if it was just a speck in Jiyong’s. “Love me. I like you so much, how can I just let you go. No. You promised me. I’m Cinderella-”


“Ara,” Jiyong shakes me. “Stop it.” He pulls away, and I feel parts of my heart chipping away. Was it so wrong to want to be Sohee? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? “I have to go, Sohee’s waiting.”


Sohee. Sohee. Ahn Sohee, I hated that name. I hated her so much. It was too easy to hate her. I hate how innocent she is. I hate how everyone loves and adore her. I hate how much her mother loves her. I hate how much Jiyong loves her. Most of all, I hate how much she loves me. I hate her.


Jiyong leaves. Jiyong left me, sitting there, crying my heart out, my heart chipping away to pieces. I’m dying. The pain is suffocating.


“Ara.”


I turn around at the familiar voice. Mascara stings my eyes but I see the figure in front of me so clearly. “Seunghyun,” I cry out. I stand up. My once tightened bun has now fallen out of place. “Seunghyun, help me.”


Seunghyun walks over, holding me. “Jiyong is happy. Let him go.”


“No. No. he was happy with me. He’ll be happier with me,” I tell Seunghyun as I look into his eyes. He stares back at me. Without saying a word, Seunghyun shakes his head. I wail. “It was me! I danced with him! Kwon Jiyong kissed me, not Ahn Sohee!” I cry, screaming at Seunghyun. He pulls me into his embrace, trying to calm me down. I push him away but to no avail. Angrily, I pound against his chest. Angrily, crying, just crying and hitting him. “Me, Go Ara! Not Ahn Sohee. He’s mine!”


“He’s mine…” I cry. “I’m Cinderella.”


Me. Cinderella. Jiyong had promised me.


“We shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to us, Ara.”





I want to be loved, like how Peter Pan loved Wendy.




That was all I ever wanted.
It’s so hard being the evil stepsister.
version.
Remembering Yesterday, v.1



annyeong.
I just messed up my page. TT.TT I know the black and white is an eyesore, but bear with me. I'm going to change it soon. >.< I hate you, dreamweaver.


where.to.go
home. affies. make.me.a.trailer.woman. pick.me.up.


let.me.scribble.
boy.with.the.space.ship already.gone love&coffee already.gone.ii chasing.time chasing.cinderella a.step.from.the.north.wind the.scarlet.letter


sing.to.me