navier stokes
detonate me, renovate me
one of twelve
She dances weirdly.
Blonde hair strewn over her back in a hypnotizing cascade, red lips, closed eyes. Beautiful, but awkward foot work. Yifan isn’t a dancer himself so he refuses to attempt it, maybe if he’s sloshed enough, he would.
The student brings the glass of piss warm beer back to his lips. The liquid tastes horrible, Yifan surmises as he tosses back the rest of it. His eyes never leave the girl. She’s dancing with someone now, grinding languidly. The DJ scratches more irritating music; the beat hurts Yifan’s ears.
Back at the girl. Yifan notices that the guy she is dancing with, is getting a little touchy. His hands are on her waist, a few inches down and he would have been cupping her generous behind – not that Yifan’s been staring – and she’s trying to anchor herself on his bicep.
Really wonky footwork.
Yifan gazes away when the guy leans down to kiss her. He knocks his can of beer towards Minseok temple, who’s already slumped over the bar counter. Jongdae is beside him, laughing; patting Minseok’s back as he does. He’s slurring about measurements and “ing professor K-kim gonna, shove my plates on him c-come Monday, he’ll see”
Ah, engineering majors and their terrible professors.
“Hey.” He shouts, “You guys done, I still have a ton of readings to do.”
Jongdae doesn’t seem to hear him. He sighs, he’s too much of a good heart to abandon his drunkard friends; but sometimes they abuse his goodness. He stands up and hauls Minseok’s form from the counter and nods at the bartender. He kicks Jongdae’s stool, “Let’s get you home before you start puking your guts out.”
Jongdae’s snickering, wobbling on his feet as he follows Yifan out of the club.
Yifan’s shoving Jongdae and Minseok to the backseat of his SUV when he hears a shrill, very female scream. He pops his head out to locate the source of the noise and sees none other than wonky footed, blonde girl from the club earlier. She’s trying to beat up the guy from earlier too; every loud whack indented with screams of protest.
“Ah, .” Yifan’s sauntering towards them, hands shoved in his pockets. He’s trying to go over the notions of what he’s about to do. Sometimes he hates himself for being too concerned for people who keeps making ty decisions.
“Hey.” Yifan’s towering over the other guy and he’s completely dwarfing wonky footed blonde girl. “Any problem here?”
The guy’s hand is around wonky footed girl’s wrist. She’s trying to tug at it, vehemently cursing. “The man, I didn’t say I was gonna have with you.” She shouts, “ing let me go.”
“You heard her.” Yifan’s eyes turn into slits. “Be a decent human being and let go of her.”
The guy scoffs, he’s red all over the face. Sloshed. “And why’d I do that?”
“Because if you don’t I’m going to a, call the police on you and b, punch you.”
The guy only laughs at him (the audacity) and continues to tug wonky footed, blonde girl towards him. Yifan hates physical violence but if it came to it, he’s never not ready to throw a mean punch. His fist connects with the guy’s mouth. He inwardly cringes as knuckles meet teeth, it kind of hurts but the other man’s lip is bleeding from one punch and he’s cursing at Yifan. “That’s option b. Do you still want option a?”
The other scoffs, backing away. “Fine, take her. She’s a anyway.”
Wonky footed girl is slumped over the light pole, bracing herself against it.
“You okay?” Yifan approaches very slowly since the girl brings up a palm and raises it near his face. “, I think I’m gonna be sick.” That’s all she says, three seconds before slumping over and vomiting her insides on Yifan’s shoes. Yifan sighs sharply as he pulls his palm over his face. After the good deed, the universe has promptly graced him with this walking disaster. “Ah , the universe hates me.”
He tries to compose himself as wonky footed girl hurls, her retching sounds horrifying. When it finally stops, Yifan walks over cringing at his dirtied shoes. “Are you okay?”
He sees wonky footed girl’s face clearly this time, she’s pale and pink in select places. Very beautiful, even with her mascara smudged and her hair in a disarray. To be perfectly honest, very, very beautiful.
Yifan’s about to repeat the question when wonky footed girl closes her eyes, and passes out on Yifan.
The universe really hates his guts.
~*~
Wu Yifan is on his fourth year as a medicine student in South Korea’s local Seoul National University. He speaks four languages, has a scary almost perfect photographic memory, his GPA is soaring higher than airplanes and lastly, Yifan doesn’t like being awakened so goddamned rudely on a Sunday morning.
He rises from the bed, right arm shooting out to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. He slides the device up his nose bridge and glares at the door.
“Where the am I?”
It’s wonky footed, blonde girl aka the disaster from last night. Yifan sighs as he trudges out of the safe and comforting confines of his room and throws the door open.
The woman from last night is bereft of her denim jacket and now, she wobbles on his apartment’s sitting room with the skimpiest clothes Yifan has seen on a living body. Her whole back is completely bare, as her dress cuts down and ends a few inches down her hips. When she turns around, her neckline plunges and Yifan is gifted with a magnificent view of semi female that is probably inappropriate in this time of the day.
“Oh god.” The woman gasps, “Whatever I did last night, I was drunk – very ing drunk – I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
Yifan reels, the woman’s voice is absolutely, divine. Her dulcet tone sounded beautiful even when speaking profanity. The medical student averts his gaze and sighs.
“Don’t worry about it.” Yifan says, removing his sweater as he walks towards her. “Here." He offers her his sweater and she slips it over her petite frame.
"Do you want coffee? I’m Wu Yifan by the way.”
“Kim Junmyeon.” She answers, “If it’s not much of a bother, yes please. Uhm, can I know what the actual happened last night? I’m lost.”
Yifan switches on the coffee maker and dumps himself on one of the barstools scattered in what he calls the kitchen. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Junmyeon groans. “From cool to what the actual , just how dire was last night?”
“Probably near what the . The man you were with last night had less than pure intentions.” The coffee maker finishes. Yifan takes out two of Jongdae’s various character mugs from the overhead cupboard and promptly fills both with fresh coffee. He hands the Pikachu mug to her but she’s eyeing his own cup. “Do you want mine?”
“Yes please. I prefer Bulbasaur.”
Junmyeon’s eye disappears into tiny little crescents when she smiles and it’s rather adorable, Yifan notes passively. He shrugs and exchanges the mugs, much to Junmyeon’s apparent satisfaction.
“Thank you though, for rescuing my . Damn, I bet the guy was a total .”
“Variable.” Yifan says and downs a good portion of his daily caffeine intake. “What’s your major?”
“Finance.” She says. “Yours?”
“Medicine.”
“Damn, you must be a ing genius or something.”
Yifan doesn’t negate nor agree with the statement. He simply stares at this oddly amicable woman comfortably lounging on Minseok’s usual spot and drinking coffee from Jongdae’s beloved Pokemon mug. The whole situation is…bizarre.
“Hey, if you don’t mind, can I use the bathroom?”
Yifan shrugs, “Sure. It’s upstairs, at the end of the hall.”
Junmyeon shoots him another grin before standing up and heading for the stairs. Yifan watches the hypnotizing cascade of her blonde hair as her loose bun undoes.
“Weird.”
~*~
“What’s happening here?”
People are applauding at the entrance of the engineering department’s main hall.
“The genius must have solved the month’s problem again. It always happens around this time.”
Yifan shoots a perfectly formed eyebrow, “I wasn’t aware we have a Will Hunting in this place. Is he any good?”
Jongdae ceases walking and balks. They are facing one of the whiteboards flanking both sides of the building’s entrance and the engineering major beside Yifan utters a “goddamn” in a most revering tone. Both whiteboards are filled with equations and numbers that Yifan’s self-proclaimed genius would never understand in a lifetime.
“At this rate, whoever’s doing this is gonna solve a Millennium problem. Trust me. I can’t even grasp this and I’m an engineering major!” Jongdae is fervently pointing towards the numbers and figures on the board and almost hitting Yifan with his T-square. “This is some doctorate level differential equation problem. It’s probably even hypothetical, the professors are ty like that.”
Yifan surveys the neatly written string of numbers on the board and smirks. “Is there even a hypothetical in mathematics? I thought the essence of the whole thing is to have a single answer for every known problem.”
Jongdae shrugs and removes his gaze from the board. “The professors in this place know enough to make something hypothetical. But whoever’s doing this is really something else. As far as I’m concerned, no one in my department is this talented. This is a gift man.”
Yifan surveys the equations again and nods. The numbers truly make his head spin so it’s probably safe to agree with Jongdae’s deduction. Whoever answers such nauseating problems could really be gifted and bored beyond their wits.
Jongdae enters the building, waving his T-square at Yifan. “Thanks for dropping me off, Fan. I want spaghetti for dinner.”
“What a brat.” Yifan says to himself before he turns and heads for the liberal arts building.
The liberal arts building is probably the smallest building inside the SNU campus. Its façade remains unchanged, still harboring the remnants of the past half century’s architectural designs. The interior, however is modernized, with clean cut edges and appropriate lighting.
Yifan actually has no business inside the liberal arts building. He’s a medical clerk at SNUH and the hospital is off campus, but on odd days where his shift ends during the morning, he finds himself meandering to that small music hall inside the said building. Music majors have long transferred to the new building, located west of the campus and the old music hall has been abandoned since.
The music hall brings a comfort of some sorts. Everything’s in black, brown and red. The lighting gives the place a rustic vibe.
But Yifan visits this particular music hall for the otherwise unused Steinway that is gathering dust inside. The piano is beautiful and it sung magically when caressed in the right ways. Yifan always marvels before he even tries to put his fingers upon it.
When he plays, he fingers are careful as they dance upon ivory and ebony keys. Yifan’s not sure which piece this is, he just plays. The feeling is liberating, kind of. He forgets when he plays, forgets the stench of the hospital, the eerie voices and pained cries, he just forgets even for a while. Yifan wonders if his playing sounds surgically precise like the rest of how he conducts his life.
There’s a change of note, Yifan hits the wrong key so he decides to shift the song altogether. This time, he recognizes the familiar beginning of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. The piece always starts mellow and crescendos into a surprisingly elaborate end. This piece is Yifan’s favorite, it’s definitely the metal of classic music.
“You play like a madman.”
Yifan hits the wrong note and this time, he is completely derailed from the piece. The error produces the most discordant noise Yifan has heard himself play and it makes him cringe.
There’s a woman standing across the hall, just a few paces from the piano and him. It’s Junmyeon, the same blonde girl he saved from an impending case of date . She’s clad in black from head to toe, and the rips in her skinny joins go high up her thigh. Yifan decides black looks good on her, makes her pale skin and blonde hair pop.
“Do I?” Yifan stares at her, raising a brow. “I hope you didn’t get yourself into trouble these past few days, Junmyeon-ssi.”
Junmyeon shrugs and approaches him with languid steps. The heels of her leather boots produce an oscillating sound inside the hall.
“But I guess Rite of Spring needs that kind of pounding to make it sound good.” She says, leaning against the piano and running her pale fingers topped with bloody red nails, on the keys. “I’m a Debussy kind of person. Stravinsky’s too much for me. And yes, I didn’t get myself into trouble. Really though, I don’t want to have that kind of hangover ever again, a whole night of getting trashed doesn’t justify it.”
“Stravinsky’s good, he’s my favorite.” Yifan says, standing up. “Anyway, I should go. Take care of yourself.”
“Why are you leaving?” Junmyeon is looking at him with the softest hazel eyes. She’s really beautiful, even if her eyeliner makes her look scary. “I’m sorry for disturbing you can continue.”
“Maybe next time.” Yifan tells her, his lips set into a grin.
Junmyeon smiles, “Too bad. I really like your playing.”
Yifan is already brisk walking towards the entrance. “Thanks.” He says before leaving the hall. The woman is such an enigma. He previously thought their paths weren’t going to cross but barely four days since the incident and he’s seeing her again. Yifan smiles to himself, who are you?
~*~
Yifan sees her again, about two weeks later.
The medical student is walking out of his late-night elective classes when he spots something odd in front of the engineering hall. Yifan wonders if he’s hallucinating due to stress or there is someone concentrating a flashlight at something in front of the building.
Curiosity killed the cat, so Yifan backtracks and heads for the building to see what the fuss is all about.
Yifan hadn’t been expecting to see Junmyeon but there she is, standing on a stool in her pajamas and answering the same problem Jongdae had been eyeing a day before.
The man stands a foot behind her and quietly watches with fascination. Junmyeon doesn’t notice him, as she’s too busy writing numbers and figures on the whiteboard all the while looking completely relaxed. Another minute passes before she recaps the marker and leans back to survey her work.
“Basic.” Yifan hears her say and he chuckles. The sound completely startles Junmyeon so when she turns around to face him, she loses footing and the stool collapses with her weight. Junmyeon lets out a short scream before she topples over Yifan.
“What the ?” Junmyeon gasps. She’s completely over Yifan’s body, who’s currently groaning in pain. “Well, this is awkward.”
“That hurts.” Yifan idly says, staring at Junmyeon’s face, which for the record, is completely devoid of makeup. She looks soft, like an angel.
“I’m sorry.” She stands up and stretches and arm for Yifan to take. “So now, I’m completely busted.”
“You’re the one who’s been answering these problems?”
Junmyeon shrugs, “Yeah. It’s a small game I play with the math department.”
“You’re the genius huh?”
Junmyeon laughs. “Far from it. These problems are challenging but they’re far from being impossible, you just have to outwit the old timers. I must say the problems are getting more and more tricky these past few months. I think they want me to solve a Millennium Problem at this rate, but nobody got time for that.”
“Surprising.” Yifan muses. “Really surprising.”
Junmyeon quirks a brow at him. “But I don’t want anyone to know. We shall keep this our little secret.”
“Should I?”
Junmyeon rolls her eyes at him. “Of course, you should. I happen to like the anonymity. Also, I know you’re the mystery pianist at the old music hall. I bet you like your alone time, wouldn’t be fun if people starts pouring in, right?”
Yifan chuckles. “I guess we have a deal then.”
“Good.”
I h8 myself for always trashing City Street Lights' final chapter for other WIPs. i h8 myself
scream at me | twitter : @snowmyun
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