Five

c a t h e r i n e

He saw me. 

The existence of Vernon has never really been known to me. Maybe because I never paid much attention to anyone. Sure, I've known him as this good-looking guy who resembled young Leonardo Dicaprio with his chiseled jaw and golden locks. But his name or who he is, it never really crossed my mind. It didn't matter anyway. I ignore everyone unless they have anything to do with me. 

Until he saw my self-harm scars. He couldn't be ignored anymore. The thought that someone else knew of my tendencies haunted me to death. It fed my anxiety until it grew monstrous in my head. His disappearance after that day bothered me too. 

What if he's skipping classes and spending time with his friends? And by spending time, amidst their conversations, he accidentally mentioned me? That Catherine Jung has evident lascirated wrists? 

Of course, they would doubt that at first. I have a good reputation and when you have a good image, people would take good prejudice of you. You always win the benefit of the doubt. But what if he insists? By then, the word spreads and what if I am confronted and found? 

I internally shook the thoughts off. But it doesn't go away easily. The fear is always in the back of my mind. Sometimes, I could tame it better. Often, it wins me over. This monster is always in my head, sometimes he's the size of a pea, sometimes, it's swallowing me whole. 

The only consolation I got that lessened my tormenting thoughts was when he appeared in class again, without anything spreading about what he saw. I thought I could shrug off his existence again. Go back to when Vernon Choi is a stranger. 

But sometimes, no matter how you try to stay in your own bubble or how much you try to keep yourself from other people, things will just happen. Life isn't always something you can control. I knew it when he stumbled upon me crying. When he insisted that I should help him on his Literature project after blackmailing me. 

I knew it even more when I saw him in front the bar that I work at. An unlit cigarette hang before his face as his eyes are frozen incredulously at me. He was struck like he has just seen a ghost. 

He saw me. 

"Come on, sweetheart. Don't try resisting or I'll hurt you." The old man threatened me as his grasp on my arm tightened. 

"I don't want it, please." I let out a desperate cry. 

"I'll pay you double, huh? What do you say? Don't be scared." He leaned to whisper on my neck.

I could no longer listen nor be scared. With all my might, I kicked his stomach. He groaned and his hold of me loosened. I squirmed violently and drifted off as fast I can. I ran in desperation to disappear as soon as possible. The wind sent me flying and minutes turned in to seconds with my speed. 

Vernon saw me. Yet again. In the situation I would never want anyone to see me. He saw me. It's repeating and echoing in my mind over and over again. It gets louder by the second. It turns in to a lethal scream that slaps me even harder. 

I went home and kept myself awake til sunrise, praying Vernon won't tell, again. Or if I could be a bit more delusional, I hope he didn't recognize me at all. 

My complete inability to sleep that night turned me in to a lifeless corpse the next morning. I am an empty vessel in a street full of life.

Early mornings like this are particularly busy. It's called rush hour for a reason. People are not wasting a single second to get in to their jobs and universities with their hurried steps. Most days, I am one of them. You walk and you just walk, with a schedule in my mind. Nothing else matters except getting to class in time.

We are robots under time's control. A slave to its dictation. We eat when time tells us it's time to eat, goes home when it strikes late at night, and live everyday like a routine. With a schedule in my mind, I usually just walk ahead with these people. With the absence of time consciousness, I guess, one truly learns to live. Just like now. 

My slow pace was a contrary to people rushing about. Only now that I really didn't care about time, I noticed a blind beggar selling off his paintings by the street. I am certain he made them for currently, he is sketching another one. A portrait of Jesus. I wonder if he is partially or totally blind but nevertheless, his talent left me in awe. 

My current emotional state wouldn't get me in to class. Instead of heading towards our school, I trailed for a nearby coffee shop from across the street, in hopes to find Vernon there. I spot him there often. 

I absentmindedly admired its cozy interiors from its glass walls until I caught a gaze of someone familiar. Half his face hid beneath his hoodie but there was no mistaking who he is. 

I contemplated whether to just walk away. But instead, I went inside the café. Vernon had his head down in front an untouched cup of coffee which has probably long lost its warmth. 

He perked his head up and welcomed me with an empty stare. His eyes mirrored no emotions amidst the berry-tinted and dark blue skin surrounding it. He looked tired. Worn out even. 

"Hey." I greeted as I sat across him. 

The uncomfortable silence embraced us like an uninvited guest. I cleared my throat and gathered my strength to confront him about what he saw. I rehearsed it over and over in my mind.

But to my dismay, I ended up with different words instead.

"Uh, how are you?" I muttered in a rather quivery voice. 

Vernon's smoldering eyes drifted at me. His gaze burnt on my skin longer than expected which sent chills beneath my spine. Then he laughed out of the blue, head tilting back and shoulders slightly shuddering. 

A humorless grin is still plastered across his face when he leaned towards me. 

"The amount of chances we've seen each other and not a single "how are you" until now." 

"You actually approached me first now, huh?" He paused and snickered more to himself. "Tell me I'm not tripping." 

The sudden growth of his smug air didn't entertain me. All my displeasure with his prescence resurrected but I managed to set them aside.

"Why the sudden change of air?" His eyes travelled my face. 

"Are you sick?" Then he leaned to touch my forehead but never really let his palm land on it. His hand was frozen on air until he leaned back on his seat.

My fingers fiddled anxiously. I struggled for one good breath. My lips parted for my second attempt of asking him about last night.

"About--"

"I'm not in the mood."

We blurted at the same time. 

"What?" My brows raised.

"If you're here to discuss about my Creative Writing project, I'm not in the mood to do so. Set some other time." He said in a dismissive tone. 

I was caught in a daze. Why is he acting like he didn't see me? 

I pondered deeper. Perhaps, he didn't really see me? Or he didn't recognize me? Either way, a seed of hope sprout in my heart. Maybe the heavens decided to be upon my favor this time

But I still need to be sure.

"Well uhm..." But how the fuck do I start it? I was getting frustrated by my inability to come up with the subject.

"Don't tell me you're here for a coffee date with me? I have not asked you out yet."

I sighed heavily, preventing the profanities in my head. I held on to my dear patience and ignored his never-ending sardonic remarks. I need at least one bit of confirmation that he isn't pretending to not recognize me from that bar. 

"You see, Catherine, I appreciate your decision of being suddenly empathetic now. But I am not really feeling well."

"Are you sick?" I echoed his question earlier.

Vernon's lips curved cockily. "Yea. I think I might be getting sick." His hoarse voice was lined with sarcasm.

"You probably got drunk again last night, huh? Hang-over?" I seamlessly questioned to get details. 

He let his grin linger for a while, as if settling to his own disbelief. I couldn't blame him. My sudden interest must be so bizarre. 

"I wasn't drunk." The stone cold eyes resurfaced. 

It was unnerving how his whole demeanor could change within seconds. But contrary to prior days, he looked dominantly unwell today that I couldn't deny the element of truth on his remarks.

"I don't drink alcohol with drugs, Cath."

Oh. 

I don't know how often but I know he does it. 

Either way, I'm not one to throw prejudices against his acts. The moment I found out about it, it struck me but remained just that. If I felt something else, it must be worry. 

Everytime I know something bad about people, I start to wonder why instead of despising them. Everything has its reasons. I think one should never judge without getting a glimpse of them. Evilness must be innate but conscience is too. One could never surrender to being bad unless he is fightless over it. 

Vernon must be high when he saw me. He must have thought he was hallucinating or due to his psychological state, he must not recognized me. That's an advantage for me but instead of relief, a slight worry behind my mind pestered me. 

"Are you okay?" The words slipped my mouth before I could stop them. It's a stupid thing to ask but I lose my wits under pressure. 

"I'm starting to think you really care for me now."

"I mean, the comedown of drugs could be.." I paused, wasn't really sure what to add. "exhausting."

The rebirth of Vernon's smirk appeared before my eyes.

"What? You do drugs now?"

I couldn't believe we are having this casual talks about drugs. 

"No. Of course, not. I would never. I'm just knowledgeable."

"Knowledgeable." He drawled amusedly. 

"You know what? nevermind--"

"I took benzodiazepines as downers. I'm completely fine right now except I feel sleepy."

I nodded, quite relieved. 

"Why not drink that then?" I eyed the already cold coffee.

Vernon shrugged. We both fell quiet. Strangely enough, the sudden stillness wasn't so unbearable anymore. The dead air was no longer ruthless. 

The sunshine peering over the trees outside are hitting the glass windows. Vernon's skin glistened golden against its rays. All the while, I admired the view.

"As much as I love your prescence here with me, I wonder why you're not in class yet?" Vernon bursted the bubble. 

"I was running late so..." 

"Woah. You barely run late."

"You're a stalker, aren't you?" I glared at him.

"I just see things, Cath." 

Right. See things like he always see everything about me.

"I decided to ditch class."

Vernon's mouth formed in to an exaggerated O. I rolled my eyes. 

"For me? I suppose?" He taunted. 

"If that will feed your ego, go ahead." 

Vernon let out a satire laugh then turned serious. 

"Really, Catherine." 

"I just didn't wanna be at school."

Honestly, I didn't have anywhere else to go. My friends are mainly my acquintances at school. I don't have anyone outside the premise. I can't call them either to ditch with me. Not that I would want to drag them in my problematic state of mind. 

"But if I am disturbing you--" I gathered my things, was ready to leave only to be stopped by Vernon.

"Do you wanna go somewhere with me?"