Freedom

“Minho…”

The Korean pop star advanced on her slowly not breaking the stare between them once. “Hello to you too.”

She quickly regained her composure, turning her head away. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend told me about some singles party and seeing as I’m single now…” he saw the hurt flash in her eyes, “…and seeing as I’m single now, I thought it’d be best for me to get back out there, you know?”

“Of course,” Cynthia replied with a weak smile, “Look for all the available opportunities, leave no stone unturned.”

“Yeah,” he replied with equal remorse, “and I’m beginning to think it was a good idea.”

“Well good for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Cynthia tried to push past Minho, but he caught her shoulder, holding her back.

“You didn’t give me the chance to ask you what you were doing here.”

“Oh, me?” she chuckled weakly. “I know the host. Yeah, well, she invited me; I stayed for a little while and now I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“It’s just not my scene, you know. Well, of course, you know. Or at least, you used to. I should get home.”

Cynthia went to move again and Minho blocked her. “It’s not because you saw me, was it?” he asked.

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “No, no, no. It’s anything, but…it’s just I have to get home to write that thing for work…”

“You’re lying,” he said. She looked at him surprised. “You’re doing that thing that you normally do when you’re hiding something from me—that hair thing.”

Sure enough, Cynthia had her hand in her hair and was messing it up. “You know me really well, huh?” she chuckled.

“Well, we did date for almost a year.”

“Like I’d forgotten.”

Minho cleared his throat. “Cynthia. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I know, but what for?”

“Whatever I did to make you leave,” he said, “I mean, whatever I did must have been so bad that you couldn’t take being with me anymore.”

“No, Minho. It was nothing you did.”

“Then why did you move out?” He signaled between them. “Why haven’t you answered any of my calls?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because…” she sighed, “I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He grabbed her hand. “But I want to. Try me.”

She licked her dry lips. “Do you remember that weekend we spent in Macau, just you and I in that little cabin?”

He smiled widely, “Yeah, it was a few weeks after we started going out.”

“Well when we came back, I found myself wanting that all the time. I wanted it to just be you and me all the time, no one else. But how realistic could that have really been? You’re a celebrity for Christ’s sake.”

“Performing is only a dream, Cyn. I’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant that I could have you.” He went to wrap his arms around her waist, but she stopped him.

“Yeah, but it’s your dream. I can’t take that away from you. I’d die seeing you unhappy,” she said, “Besides, I can’t be dependent on you all my life. That’s why I left.”

“Well, why not?”

“We’re still young and permanence isn’t something we’re both looking for right now.” She fidgeted with her fingers.

“Oh. So, you don’t want to be with me?”

She reached up to touch his shoulder, “It’s not me, Minho. It’s society. We should wait until we’re both mature and know who we are before we…”
He shrugged her off. “I know who I am, Cynthia. I’m a man who only loved to perform, but when he met the girl of his dreams, he found another reason to love. You did that. You showed me who I am. I was meant to love you.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest. “You did this, Cynthia. You made me love you.”

“Minho, I…”

“Tell me who you think you are.”

“What?” She removed her hand from his chest.

“Go ahead, tell me.”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I know who you are, Cynthia,” he started. “You’re a writer. A beautiful, talented, amazing writer who values honesty above everything else. You don’t write about anything that you don’t care about and shoot for accuracy in every report…”

“Well, I am a reporter.”

He brought his arms around her waist, cradling her. “Yes, you are that, but you’re also an equally stubborn woman…”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Hey! I’m not...”

“But you are,” he grinned widely. “You are stubborn and always seem to know what you want, always fighting to get it. You always want to be right and even when you’re wrong; you keep fighting as though you were.”

“I do not!”

“Really? Then what do you call this?”

She retracted from him, avoiding eye contact. “A discussion.”

“When it’s really a disagreement,” he smirked.

“You see the glass half full, I see it half empty,” she shrugged.

“So, what more can I do to convince you to come home?” He neared her lips. “Should I kiss you senseless?”

Cynthia put her hands up in defense, stopping him. “No,” she sighed. “I just want to come home on my own terms. Okay?”

Out of respect, Minho reluctantly dropped his hands, putting them into his pockets. He moved to make a clear pathway for her to the door. Cynthia gave one final look at her former beau, nodding, and then went to the door. She had her hand on the knob when a thought came to her. She went back to Minho who was surprised to see her back so soon.

Sensing his excitement, she put up a hand warningly. “I just want you to know that it shouldn’t be much longer and when I do, you can kiss me senseless all you want,” she smirked.

Minho leaned down and kissed the girl’s forehead, earning a small smile from her. “I’m looking forward to it.”