It really happened.

It was a regular day out and my parents and I were out for a drive—I was the one behind the wheel. The feel of the accelerator and brake pedals were different against my foot, the same feeling I would get whenever the seat was adjusted too far from where it was supposed to be. My eyes were glued to the road, but I could sense Papa sitting beside me as he told me where to go. Even then, as I was driving on the freeway, he was still the Boss of the Road, but I didn’t mind. Papa would always be Boss to me.

He told me to exit on the next one we see, so I did. Mama complimented how smooth my driving was. I smiled and told her how technology was amazing. I had a computer clone of myself on the road, running down the streets while I drove the car. The clone was like a GPS system, and the GPS “I” looked around for traffic accidents and red lights, things that would stop us from getting to our destination quicker, and would alert me of them through the little screen in the car, so we end up avoiding anything big on the streets. I knew that Mama was scared of the new technology. Another “me” was there outside, alone. Anything could happen—the new “me” was virtually attached to the real me: anything it felt would in turn be felt by me; anything that happened to it would happen to me. But I didn’t really care—I liked technological advancements.

I watched on the little screen as “I” ran outside. “I” turned on a corner, and so in the car, I signaled right and turned. Papa told me I was headed the wrong way from where we were supposed to go, so I retorted that he should drive instead if he had complaints about my driving. Papa told me to pull over, so I parked the car by the street curb. We were about to change seats when something unexpected happened.

“I” ran into a huddle of people when all of a sudden, a large man–no, a giant of a man thrice the height of any man I had ever seen—grabbed “me” and pierced an incredibly long sword straight through my chest. I gasped at the sight before me. A few moments later I felt my shirt getting wetter and wetter; I knew without looking that I was slowly soaking in my own blood.

Papa looked at me and told me to quickly scoot over to the passenger seat as he released his seatbelt and quickly got out of the car. I could hear Mama’s cries in the backseat as I struggled to switch seats. It felt like an hour or two passed before I was able to go to the other seat.

I saw Papa outside, running straight to the commotion on the street. There were no more than three men on a killing spree, and I saw “myself” skewered on the long sword. I knew the hundreds of dollars I spent on it were long gone—but that wasn’t the least of my concerns then. Papa was outside and he was completely vulnerable.

I knew what Papa was trying to do. “I” was still there on the street; my “body” was still there. Papa wanted to retrieve “me.” In my mind I wanted him strapped back to his seat and we would drive away as fast as we could. I wanted to shout for him to return, but I knew that screaming for my father to come back would only put much attention to him, so I shut my mouth as I fought for every breath. I didn’t know getting hurt felt this bad.

I heard the car door open. Papa was holding “me” and brought “me” to my lap. I was surprised at how light “I” felt, given that my real body was too heavy for my liking. I looked at the scene before us—they were still killing people who were on the streets by chance. Papa went to the driver’s side as quickly as he could. He locked the doors and was about to start the engine when I noticed the giant man looking straight at us. I knew the three of us were looking back at him.

He was quick on his feet, but every step he took felt like a minute, as if he were enjoying the thrill of seeing new prey. I hugged my “body” closer as my ragged breathing turned into scared panting. I was scared, scared out of my wits, too scared to say anything, too scared to even jump out of the seat and run for my life.

Just when Papa found the strength to start the engine, the giant went to the front of our car and ripped out the engine as easily as if it were mere bread. My eyes were glued to his expression: his lips were smiling, yet his eyes were devoid of any emotion known to man. He was going to kill us—all three of us—and I knew we had no chance of surviving.

I only heard one thing then. “Run,” Papa said as the giant went straight for the person on the driver’s seat. I could only watch as he grabbed Papa’s head and—

Then I woke up crying.

It really happened…in my dream. *winkwink* It was an awful dream, mind you. I don’t think I did the dream justice with this little story, because it was really vivid and horrible and just plain scary. Anyway, I wrote this two years ago for a writing class, and my professor said the title was misleading. But it did happen! Just…not in real life, heh.

[Untitled Jaejoong Sketch] 01-02

Was in a DBSK (or is it more proper to say JYJ since I like those three more than Yunho and Changmin?) mode just a few minutes ago and remembered that I wrote a short Jaejoong scene about two years ago. Heh. I miss DBSK pre-breakup. They were awesome as a group.

the beginning.

The patio, Minseo’s house; 7:56 PM

Jaejoong took out another cigarette and lit the end with his lighter, his actions quick and effortless as he’d done the same thing over and over again many times before. Minseo looked as he took one puff, inhaled the smoke for three or so seconds, and slowly exhaled. Wisps of smoke came out of Jaejoong’s nostrils and she was quick to smell the smoke. Minseo wasn’t a smoker, and she couldn’t see what was appealing about cigarettes.

“Do you know many you’ve smoked today?” She asked. Jaejoong’s eyes flitted toward her, a questioning look on his face. He shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I don’t count.”

Minseo held out a hand. “Five sticks—and that’s just here, in front of me. You must’ve smoked more.”

A small smile slowly made its way onto Jaejoong’s lips. “You’re worried?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I can’t be?” There was an obvious incredulity in her voice, something that did not escape Jaejoong’s keen senses

“Well…I never said you can’t.”

“But you’re implying that I can’t.”

Jaejoong chuckled and took another puff. Ah, cigarettes and Minseo: two things that made his life better.

Minseo pouted. “Why—are—you—laughing?” She snarled through gritted teeth; before long, Jaejoong was already in a fit of rambunctious laughter. Seeing Minseo get mad for the smallest things amused the 24-year-old much more than anything else, yet she wasn’t amused by his reactions.

Irritated by his making fun of her expressions, Minseo continued to glare at the man as she crossed her arms and changed the subject. “You really should quit smoking. The smoke’s already getting in your head.”

He smiled and took another long puff from his cigarette just to spite the girl. Minseo’s right eye twitched as Jaejoong took his time with the cigarette, keeping the smoke in his body far longer than he usually does. He released the smoke from his mouth into the air and gave another smile to the pretty girl sitting across from him. “Make me,” he challenged Minseo.

“Hah. Fat chance that’ll ever happen,” Minseo said, admitting defeat before the game even began. “I don’t have any influence on you.”

Jaejoong suddenly had an idea. “Call me oppa and I won’t smoke in front of you.”

It was Minseo’s turn to give a derisive smile. “That’s not enough to make me call anyone besides my older male cousins oppa. Go ahead and smoke your lungs out, then. I don’t care.”

Jaejoong sighed and gave a shrug to himself. Oh, well. At least he tried.

Minseo picked his pack of cigarettes and opened it. There were only two cigarettes left. She took out one and carefully studied it while Jaejoong eyed her carefully. Before long, she already put one end of the cigarette between her lips, her hand reaching for the lighter on the table—but Jaejoong was quicker. He snatched the cigarette in between her lips and took his pack with the other hand.

“No smoking for you.”

“Tsk. And why not? You smoke, so why can’t I?”

“Because I don’t like my girl to smoke.”

Minseo glared at Jaejoong. “I’m not your girl.”

“You will be.”

She snickered. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“How about this then?” Jaejoong leaned closer to Minseo, the fingers of his left hand interlaced with the fingers of his other hand. He had a serious yet playful expression on his face. “Go out with me—and I mean seriously go out with me—and I’ll quit smoking.”

Amused, Minseo smiled. “You’d do that just to get in my pants?”

“Oh, I can get in your pants without resorting to these schemes, no problem,” Minseo laughed at his cockiness, while Jaejoong continued, “but I want something more than just casual sex from you.”

“A…relationship?”

“You sound surprised.”

“How can I not be? You’re Kim Jaejoong.”

“And…?”

“And Kim Jaejoong equates to Mr. I Don’t Do Relationships, Only Fine Females.”

It was Jaejoong’s turn to glare. “I’m serious.”

“You’re serious about what? Wanting me on your bed?”

He chuckled. “Lee Minseo, for a nice girl, you think too much about sex.”

“Don’t joke around with me, I’m being serious here.”

“And so am I. When I proposed that you go out with me, I was being serious. I like you, and I like you for more than your body, alright?”

It was a few minutes before Minseo spoke again. “…Are you gonna quit smoking for me?”

“…I’ll…try. If you want.”

“Don’t. I actually like that about you.”

Jaejoong blinked twice. “What, smoking?”

She nodded and smiled. “Just a bit.”

“Then why are you making me quit?”

“Because it’s harmful to your health, why else? It may seem as a surprise for you, but I do care about you.”

“…So are you my girlfriend now?”

Minseo let out a hearty laugh. “For someone so suave, you still have to ask the girl that kind of info?”

He grinned. “I just want to be sure.”

“Fine. As long as you don’t bug me to start calling you oppa, I’m your girlfriend.”

the nag.

Public streets near Park Yoochun’s house; 9:42 PM

“Jaejoo—Jae. Jae—KIM JAEJOONG, wait up!”

Minseo mentally cursed her high heeled sandals as struggled to keep up with Jaejoong’s long strides through the neighborhood. Jaejoong left the interiors of Yoochun’s house thirty minutes into the party; Minseo apologized to the guests and excused herself to catch up to her obviously angry boyfriend.

“Jaejoong…my feet hurt from too much walking, so can we please stop?” Jaejoong stopped and turned to face Minseo. Yes, she thought. Kim Jaejoong never could stand to walk away from his hurt girlfriend, and she, being the girlfriend, knew it.

“Why in the world do you wear those horrendous heels, anyway? You’re already taller than all the women in the party without it!” And with a huff, he quickly went back to walking.

not the kind of reaction she was hoping for.

This outburst from Jaejoong angered Minseo. What was he angry about, anyway? Just a few minutes ago, they were laughing along to a joke someone had made—and then, BOOM, he went off without any prior warning.

“What is your problem, Jaejoong-ah? I don’t even know why you’re mad!”

Jaejoong turned to look at his girlfriend once again and clenched his fists. Why was he mad, she asked? Any man in his place, Jaejoong thought, would be mad—and would have every right to be so!

“You wanna know why I’m mad? You really wanna know?” She continuously nodded with a look of irritation and worry in her eyes. “Fine, then I’ll tell you.”

Taking a deep long breath of air, Jaejoong quickly said, “You called Yoochun oppa.”

“What?”

“You called Yoochun oppa. You called him oppa but you don’t call me oppa!”

“That’s it? That’s why you walked away all of a sudden, out of that party, because I called Yoochun-oppa oppa?”

“See? YOU DID IT AGAIN!” The look on Jaejoong’s face was murderous.

“Jae—”

“—And you’re not even calling me oppa! And I’m your boyfriend!” He said, then added in an afterthought, “And I’m even Yoochun’s hyung!”

“Jae—”

“I don’t get it! I was just about to introduce you to him and then you go—Oppa!—to him without even thinking about what I’d feel! Lee Minseo, did you even stop and think of me?”

Jae—”

“I agreed that you don’t need to call me oppa, only because I thought there really isn’t anyone apart from your cousins that you called oppa—and don’t even tell me Yoochun’s your cousin, because I’ve met all of your cousins when we went to that family reunion of yours months ago!—only to see you get all happy and surprised to see Yoochun and call him oppa, oppa, oppa!”

Jae—!” There was already an irritated edge in Minseo’s voice as she called out her boyfriend’s name yet again, but he still wouldn’t listen and continued to talk.

“You know what, if you didn’t like me at all, you could’ve just said no when I asked you to date me! That way, I wouldn’t have looked like an idiot in front of everyone when my girlfriend—who doesn’t even call me oppa—calls someone oppa in front of me! How could—”

“YAH! KIM JAEJOONG! WILL YOU PLEASE JUST LISTEN FIRST?!”

Jaejoong closed his open mouth and nodded to let her proceed, even though he looked skeptical at whatever it was that she was about to say. She glared at him, as if daring him to speak, but he only sighed and let her speak.

“Yoochun-oppa is my oppa.”

What?! That reason won’t work with me, Lee Minseo! I told you, I met all your cousins from that reunion—”

“I TOLD YOU TO LISTEN FIRST!” Minseo shouted again, which led to Jaejoong shutting up again. He wasn’t used to this shouting version of Minseo yet. She always seemed to be a little more graceful than this.

Minseo sighed and continued. “Like I said, he’s my oppa. He’s not a relative, yes, but he’s my oppa. We were neighbors when we were little, and—LISTEN FIRST—” she said loudly, as Jaejoong opened his mouth to say something again. “—and I had no brothers, so this irritable girl with an ugly older brother kept saying how lucky she was that she had one and that she felt sorry for me for not having one. She said that that over and over and over again, and kept laughing at my face because I didn’t have an oppa. Then Yoochun-oppa came to my rescue and told that bully of a girl that I did have an oppa, and that he was my oppa…and he was cooler and a lot more handsome that her oppa, so she couldn’t really say anything and just stood there with her mouth open. After that, she never bothered me again.”

She cleared her throat after the long speech. “So…Yoochun-oppa has been my oppa ever since then.”

It took a while before Jaejoong finished processing the story. His mouth was unconsciously kept a little open while he was thinking, as if he still couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“And don’t even think of asking me not to call him oppa,” Minseo warned just as Jaejoong was about to ask her that very thing. “I’ve been calling him that since I was a little girl. He’s been a better oppa than any of my cousins ever were, so he’s earned that name fair and square.”

He closed his mouth and nodded reluctantly.

Coffee shop; 3:12 PM, the next day

“I hate you.”

“Huh?”

“I really hate you.”

Yoochun blinked and stared at Jaejoong with raised eyebrows. “…What? H-hyung, what did I do?” asked Yoochun. It was such a sudden outburst that the younger man didn’t know how else to react.

Jaejoong took a few minutes before answering in a very casual voice, “Just because you’re you.”