April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions (42 page)

BOOK: April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions
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Alright, time to pack the bags and move.
My intuition withdraws first.

Mayhem lifts an eyebrow at my speechlessness. He is the dark Angel disguised as a human; his features are not only physically attractive, but also emotionally manipulative. It’s as though Mayhem was designed and engineered to execute the female species.

“You have five seconds to get out of my way.” I stare him dead in the eyes while my heart thumps like crazy in my chest. How is it that I am feeling all these
feelings
for him when I don’t even have any for Choi Sangwoo? The emotions I harbor for Sangwoo doesn’t come close to this.

“Or what?” Mayhem breathes.

I bite my lower lip, staring at the pretty face with the personality of a jerk to back it up. “Or this!” I pick up my left foot. I kick Mayhem in the shin while shoving my hands at his chest. Causing him to stumble, I take my chance and run out of the apartment door. I am all impulse and avoidance like a small child running away from her problem.
Very mature, May.
My intuition stifles her mocking laughter.

Mayhem recovers quickly, but doesn’t chase after me. He doesn’t even make a sound. I don’t know if he’s laughing or planning to kill me.

I don’t want to stay and find out. Eunhye and Mr. Im turn from the kitchen when I sprint out of the apartment.

“May!” Eunhye calls after me, but it is too late.

I slam the door behind me and run like hell.

 

_________________________
 

 

“M
AYHEM IS MR. IM’S NEPHEW?!”
Lina stops midway through her jog and nearly causes several people to collide behind her. “What the hot fudge on a Sunday?!”

“Lina.” I grab a fistful of my cousin’s shirt and pull her to the side of the trail. True to my promise, I am jogging with Lina. A two-mile trail snakes through this city park. Towering trees loom over the running trail and slant in opposite directions. We are lost in the thick forest of the trail, but the memories still haunt me.

Lina has her hair tied out of her face while mine is under the hold of a ponytail. The hot summer air feels nice against my skin. The run has definitely kept my mind off Choi Sangwoo, but now my thoughts and concerns focus on Mayhem–Yoon Jaewon. It is too funny how the tables are turning.

“Can you believe the odds of that?” I keep my breath controlled as I bend down to touch my knees.

“He’s after you,” Lina concludes. She is breathing hard, wiping her damp forehead with the back of her hand. “You have to be careful May. For all you know, he could chop you into little pieces, bury you under wooden floorboards, and then go after us. Oh my gosh, it’s never going to end. This is all my fault.”

“Please don’t be paranoid Lina,” I rebuke my cousin. It is also for my piece of mind. “He’s just Mr. Im’s nephew. If anything, now Eunhye and Mr. Im know him.”

“How is he?” Lina asks for the notorious gang lord’s personality.

“Crass, controlling, aggressive, overly confident. Basically
, he is the works. He has this severe gang lord complex. Or more specifically, King syndrome.” 

“He should tell Sangwoo.” Lina is serious.

“Why?” I ask.

“So he can protect you,” Lina urges. “He’s going to be your Boss.”

“Sure. Choi Sangwoo is going to take out his guns and knives to kill Jaewon for that,” I tell her. “Lina, it’s not going to happen that way. We’re not starring in a drama.”

“Hmm.” Lina scrunches up her nose. “Maybe he likes you.”

“Sangwoo?”

“No. Jaewon.”

I roll my eyes and burst out laughing. “I’m sure he likes me when he told me he could ruin my life.”

Lina shakes her head. “Think about it, he said he was pleased to see you in the kitchen.”

“Well, he wasn’t shocked.” The memory plagues me. I am suddenly uncomfortable with the notion that Mayhem might’ve known all along the connection between the two of us. But what if he was just as surprised? If that’s true, Mayhem should win an award for his immaculate reaction.

“May, you are an attractive young woman. Gorgeous slushes probably surround these gang lords. It’s not rocket science that maybe they want someone who is more grounded and girl-next-door.” Lina has it down to a science. I don’t miss the fact that my cousin used her term of slushes for sluts. It is easy to see that Lina’s theory derives from the plethora of Korean dramas influenced by American romantic-comedy themes.

I highly doubt this theory. Choi Sangwoo wants me because I remind him of Dead Girl. Yoon Jaewon sees me as a means to get to Choi Sangwoo. I am different shades of reasons for these gang lords.

“I don’t think it’s about attraction with these guys Lina.” My voice is soft.

“Look, if you don’t want to sign that initiation contract with Choi Sangwoo then don’t. I will help you as much as I can to repay him back. As for Yoon Jaewon, just stay clear of him and hopefully there won’t be any trouble.” Lina places a hand on my shoulder as though she wants to ease my anxiety. This sounds great in theory, but I am going to fail miserably. I am not the only active agent in this course of my life. If only Lina can understand the depth of Choi Sangwoo’s persistence.

“Ok. Let’s just keep
jogging.” I resign to letting this go for now. I pick up my pace and step back onto the trail.

“May, you can’t just stuff this all under the rug!” Lina groans behind me, but the sound of her sneakers lets me know she’s giving in.

“Last one back buys snack!” I shout. My sneakers thud on the ground as I push my body to the limit. I don’t want to hear my cousin’s advice. I need time and distance to think everything through. I need to let the whirlwind die down.

 

 

A
FTER OUR JOG LINA AND
I grab a snack at the local
bistro. We spend the rest of the afternoon talking about topics that do not include gangsters, gang leaders, or money. Hanging out with Lina brings a fresh batch of air. For once, my mind’s not convoluted with dark thoughts. It actually feels good to people-watch and be in the moment. However, in the course of the afternoon, Eunhye leaves me two angry messages. She wants to know why I ran out and when I am coming home. Choi Sangwoo calls once and leaves me a text message to call him back. By the time I part ways with Lina, the feelings of dread come back.
At the rate you’re going, an anxiety attack is only another event away
, my conscience mumbles out of pity.

Mayhem clouds my thoughts on the way home. The impression he’s left on me is marred with rumors and his true identity. I am plagued with the notions that Mayhem lives up to his reputation, but at the same time there is more to him than the status and repertoire. Every single time we meet, Mayhem warns me about Choi Sangwoo, yet he falls short in giving me a reason or a shred of evidence. If I didn’t know better, I would think he actually cares.

Maybe he does.
My intuition shrugs. Yoon Jaewon and Choi Sangwoo are complete opposites. While Sangwoo is cold and kind, Jaewon is mysterious and provocative. Sangwoo is reserved and careful while Jaewon is reserved and aloof. Sangwoo hides his true intentions while Jaewon wears his instincts on his sleeve. Two different men–two very different gang lords.

Why are you thinking so much about this?
Absentmindedly, I sigh. I have to stop going down this spiral. All these questions lead to no answers. I am back to square one.
Gotta keep busy. Gotta keep moving.

My apartment comes into view. With one last spurt of energy, I finish off my water bottle and round the last bend. When the towering gate comes into view, I spy a sleek, midnight blue coupe to the right of the intercom. The 320i BMW is as glossy and extravagant as ever.

I pause in the middle of the sidewalk. Without warning, my heart thumps in a rhythmic manner. Memories of last night spread like wildfire through me. He is here. Choi Sangwoo is waiting for me.
You should turn and run down the opposite street,
my intuition snaps. But if I run, I have to keep running. If I get away today, there’s nothing to guarantee I will get away tomorrow.

I gather up my mental barriers and approach the car. “Sangwoo?”

The Crist gang leader is sitting in the driver’s seat dressed down in dark gray. His unwavering gaze is muted. As the evening light, a rich combination of orange and yellow dye, reaches his eyes; I notice how tired and indifferent Sangwoo looks. “Hi May.”

“What are you doing here?” I do my best to keep my voice steady. I hesitate when I smell the alcohol radiating from the car. I don’t miss the fact that an open bottle nestles in one of the cup holders.

“Why didn’t you pick up your cell phone?” Sangwoo’s tone is arctic and distant, perhaps even accusing and aggressive.

Damn.
He’s mad that I’ve been ignoring his phone calls all day. “I was out with my cousin.” It is slightly annoying having to report to him. “I’m sorry,” I add out of courtesy.

Sangwoo doesn’t answer me. My eyes travel back to the partially empty bottle of Vodka in the cup holder. Was he drinking while waiting for me? Choi Sangwoo has an indefinite sad side to him. It is dark and lonely, cancerous and decaying. Why is he drinking already? In the short time that I have known him, Sangwoo’s affinity for alcohol seems to have skyrocketed.
Alcoholic!
my intuition chortles.

“Sangwoo, how much did you drink?” I am wary.

“Hmm. This many.” He extends ten fingers. There is a glossy look in his eyes. If anything, it is an indication of a weakness.

I have never seen Sangwoo so childlike. I briefly conclude that only when he is drinking does the gang leader demeanor deteriorates.

“Get in the car May. I want to talk to you.” Sangwoo motions with his head towards the passenger seat.

“Sangwoo, you’re drunk.” It doesn’t escape the both of us that my tone hints frustration.

“No. I’m not.” His brown eyes dilate. This strange, erratic behavior is a flaw of Sangwoo’s. “I want to talk. I’m usually a patient person May, but you are testing my limits today. You ignore my phone calls and now you don’t want to talk to me. What did I do wrong?” There is sorrow in his voice. Sangwoo is at the very edge.

A gentle, prickling sensation attacks my eyes. I swallow hard. My palms are clammy and my heart is heavy. How do I tell Sangwoo I need time and space away from him? What can I say to put into words all the things I am
not
feeling about him? I know I cannot run from him and avoid the necessary conversation, but at the present moment I am desperate to avoid it all.

“May,” Sangwoo calls to me again. This time his tone changes. It is heavy with judgment and contrite.

“Five minutes.” My intuition shakes her head at me over her black rimmed glasses. I ignore her and make my way to the passenger side of the 320i. There is no point in turning back now.

Sangwoo leans toward me once I am in the seat. His brown eyes glaze over, murky and lost. “I am a very patient man May. But with you, I think I am starting to lose my discipline.”

My blood freezes at his conviction. Discipline? What is Sangwoo talking about? He cannot insinuate that I am wearing his patience thin when he expects not only loyalty from me, but also absolute submission. Last time I checked, I didn’t sign an initiation contract.

“May,” he calls to me. His voice becomes so soft that it distracts me. “I like you. I really like you.” He leans forward and his hands are around my back. The smell of alcohol coils around my senses.

Emotions sweep me away. My heart pounds a mile a minute.
Shit
. He knocks my breath away with the confession. Without any qualms or reservations, Choi Sangwoo tells me that he likes me. Memories of last night’s kiss grip my mind. I let Sangwoo hold me, hoping I’d feel something, hoping that I’d say, “I like you too.” But my lips won’t move. The forlorn realization slips over me. I don’t have the feelings that I should for this man. Maybe it is because I know Sangwoo is under the influence of alcohol. Or maybe I know that his feelings for me are marred and tainted. It’s not me he wants; it’s the girl I remind him of. Why won’t he come out and say it?

Sangwoo reaches for my hand. He intertwines his fingers in mine roughly. I can’t let this go on any longer. I pull back from him. “Sangwoo, I think you should go home.”

“Do you know how worried I was when I couldn’t reach you today?” Sangwoo ignores my suggestion. His brown eyes are tracking beams. “You’re distancing yourself from me. Why?”

I lower my gaze. My hands rest in my lap. How can I explain to Sangwoo that I cannot return his feelings for me? He is pursuing a relationship with no future. “I think we’re better off as friends. I don’t ha-have the same feelings for you Sangwoo. I’m sorry.”

The hurt sears across his composed facial expression. The alcohol has already lowered his first line of defense. Now, I am tearing through the concrete walls of this poor soul.

Sangwoo withdraws from me and sits back in his seat. No longer making eye contact, he stares out of the front windshield. “Why not?”

Why not? A million thoughts explode like a supernova in my mind. How do I even begin to explain the turmoil and confusion I have? “I just don’t think we’re compatible,” is my feeble attempt to save feelings and cap pain.

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