Friday Fix

♚ | one

THE slap was hard and loud and echoed all around the house. It seemed to bounce off the walls, rattling the family photos in their frames, sending quivers down the cutlery before sinking into the carpeted floor.

Every vein in my father's temple bulged and pushed against skin. "You will not speak of it again!"

My face was turned to the side, so forceful was the blow he had dealt that my hair had whipped right across my face.

My father was, by all accounts, a reasonable man. He was tall and lean with a bony frame that had not learnt how to retain a single ounce of fat. His hairline was receding, but then again all men of his age were undergoing the same thing; he spoke little, preferring to stay silent and guarding and watchful, and was the sole breadwinner of our family. His daily work consisted of translating advertisements and books and scripts from one language to another, a tedious work that needed quantity to bring in any significant amount of money.

As such, from the moment my first brother was born, he had resolved that no child of his would ever enter a future without financial stability. My eldest brother had a keen eye for law, my father was pleased; my second brother professed eagerness for accounting, my father was proud; my third brother jumped right into engineering, my father clapped; and my fourth brother turned his aspirations toward medicine, which made my father wept tears of happiness.

So was it any wonder that when I declared my passion for dancing, he would blow a gasket?

"It is - not - a career, Haneul," my father had said, so many times. "It is a hobby, a foolish phase, a daydream from which you can gain nothing, nothing!"

And I had let it slide. Again and again, I had let his words wash over me, hardening my heart to it, believing that when I finally graduated high school and had to choose a university, he would give in. As long as he allowed me to join the dance club, as long as he allowed me to go to my weekly dance lessons, I pretended his barbs were droplets of water, and my skin duck feathers - it slid right off.

He will change his mind, I told myself, he will change his mind if I try hard enough. He will change his mind when the time comes.

Well now the time had come. I had graduated high school, passed my leaving examination with flying colors, and if I thought that my grades would provide me with some leverage, I was wrong.

My father waved my shimmery, polished certificate in front of me like it was ammunition.

"Look at this! Look at this! Straight As! If you think I would let that cleverness of yours go to waste, if you think that I would allow my daughter, a student of Science, to become a fool - then you are wrong! Your brothers have been so successful, and you will do the same!"

I looked back at him, eyes flashing. "I will be successful - in a career of my own choosing! Every year, I have brought back a trophy or an award from a dance competition. I was rewarded champion in my school's annual dance-off! Why can't I major in dancing, when I have proven my every worth in that field!"

My father's voice rose until even the beams of my house groaned under the volume.

"Because I will not have our Lee family name disgraced by some gyrating tramp in skimpy, tight clothes!"

The world fell silent in the wake of his words. And for the first time, in all my years of pretending I didn't mind, my heart ached like it had been slashed by a knife.

"Go to your room." His voice had turned quiet, and it brooked no argument.

I had failed to change his mind, after all.

♚

"So I'm assuming the talk didn't go well." It was a statement, not a question, as my second brother's voice crackled over the phone.

Flopped down on my bed, I buried my face into the pillow and let out a short scream. "Nope."

Ha Yul laughed. "Come on now. Were you not expecting that?"

I flipped over, staring up at the ceiling of my room. Glow-in-the-dark stars peppered the midnight blue background. "I mean, I thought we could reach a compromise or something. Like - he'd give me one semester to try it out and by the time it ends he'll intend to switch me back to some boring profession like yours; only because I'm so awesome I impressed him so much he allows me to continue. But no. He won't even give me a chance!"

"First of all, maths is not boring - "

I groaned. "Please. Spare me the lecture."

A pause on my brother's side. "So what are you going to do now? You can't change his mind. And I know for sure you ain't going to change yours."

A sigh left my lips, heavy in exhalation. "I can't go into science. I can't. I'm not meant for it - don't you dare call me melodramatic - and I just can't."

I look around my room, the walls of which were plastered over with images of people dancing - from Elvis Presley to the Latin tango to the insanely synchronized dance machines of the kpop world. My voice turned soft.

"I don't understand and love science like I do dancing. Dancing is what I really want to do."

Silence. I could almost picture my brother on the other end, legs crossed as he sat in his armchair in a modern office building in Seoul (which I had only visited once), taking time out of his busy schedule to listen to me gripe.

"Then do it," he said.

I frowned. "Excuse me?"

I can just see him shrugging. "If you love it so much, do it. I loved accounting, so I did it. Hongki loved playing doctor, and he did it. So if you love dancing" - I held my breath - "do it."

"Are you - are you supporting me on this?" I bolted up from my bed, surprised and hesitant. "You don't think it's some foolish phase?"

"Only time can answer that, don't you think?"

"But how am I supposed to persuade dad?"

The silence on the other end was wicked. "Who says you need to?"

♚

I stared at the screen of my Redmi Note 3. It was six months old and the first phone I had ever had, because my father believed portable communication devices were not necessary for school children when a house phone was available for use. I cherished it very much, not just because it was the first step toward independent freedom, but also because it had been bought with money from my first job.

Now I stared at the faces of my four brothers, who all had earphones on as we Skyped.

"Ryuk-il Dance Academy? In Seoul?"

Haru, my eldest brother and the only one who had managed to grow a good beard, nodded. "It's a great school, kid. Not far from the city centre, accommodation provided, and pretty swell ratings from parents. I hear the students get to go on trips to meet international dance masters."

"Well yeah, but - "

"And," Hyeong-gon cut in, beige beanie lopsided over his tousled hair, "a friend of mine works there, so he'll help you out." My third brother winked. "He owes me one, you see."

"Fantastic," I tried, "but - "

"Stop your whining." Hongki's hair was wet, as if he had just came out of the shower. His eyes continuously flickered between me and somewhere else on his computer screen, so I knew he was doing his assignment as we spoke. My fourth brother was pretty much the genius in the family. "If you want it, you gotta sacrifice for it. It's a boarding school, not a convent. You'll be fine."

"That's not what I'm saying, I'm saying that - "

Ha Yul let out a whistle. "And we could all visit you! Well, except for Haru, because he's working in Daegu."

I finally snapped. "Will you all shut up and listen to me for a moment?"

Hongki stopped typing. Ha Yul raised an eyebrow. Hyeong-gon stopped swiveling in his chair and the water bottle that was rising to Haru's lips paused midway. I took a deep breath.

"Ryuk-il is amazing. It's got an incredible reputation, and the graduates pretty much have it made. But have you all forgotten I'm a girl?"

I paused. "Or did it escape your notice that it's an all boys academy?"

Hyeong-gon shook his head and resumed swiveling. "Nope." He popped the 'p'. "Of course we know it's an all boys academy."

My frown deepened. I blinked.

"So . . .?" I trailed off.

"So you should really get a haircut," Ha Yul finished, and my four brothers all grinned at me.

❈

Buildup is essential to a good story just as how foreplay is essential to good s*x.

Let the characters grow first.

Yours in seduction,

Lady Godiva.