Chapter 9: Crossroads

The air crackled with a different kind of energy as we entered our final year at SGA. Gone was the carefree spirit of underclassmen; in its place, a palpable tension hung in the air, a shared awareness that our time as high school students was quickly drawing to a close.

Conversations in the hallways often revolved around future plans – university applications, entrance exams, part-time job hunting. The pressure to have it all figured out, to make life-altering decisions at the tender age of eighteen, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

For me, the path seemed clear, even if it was unconventional. I knew in my heart that my future lay in the world of acting. University, with its rigid structure and academic focus, held little appeal. Instead, I craved the freedom to chase my dreams, to immerse myself in the unpredictable yet exhilarating world of auditions, rehearsals, and performances.

Shawn, ever the supportive boyfriend, understood my aspirations. He never pressured me to conform to societal expectations or follow a traditional path. However, his own future seemed shrouded in a mist of uncertainty. He had mentioned the possibility of attending university, following in the footsteps of his older brother, but he hadn't settled on a specific course or career path.

It was during a particularly grueling study session in the library, surrounded by towering bookshelves and the hushed whispers of fellow students, that the weight of our impending graduation finally settled upon us.

"Have you decided what you're going to major in, Shawn?" I asked, my voice a low murmur, mindful of the quiet atmosphere.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a thoughtful frown furrowing his brow. "Honestly, Ryung, I'm still undecided," he admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I've always enjoyed history and literature, but I haven't figured out how to translate that into a career."

I chewed on my lower lip, a nervous habit I hadn't quite managed to break. The thought of Shawn attending university, potentially miles away, filled me with a sense of unease. But I pushed those thoughts aside, reminding myself that he deserved to pursue his own dreams, just as I was determined to chase mine.

"Well, you have plenty of time to decide," I reassured him, offering a reassuring smile. "And besides, we'll figure it out together, right?"

Shawn Black returned my smile, his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now held a hint of vulnerability. "Yeah, we will," he agreed, his voice firm despite the uncertainty that lingered in his gaze.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Graduation loomed like a double-edged sword, promising freedom and opportunity while simultaneously threatening to cleave apart everything familiar. Excitement buzzed through the hallways of SGA, but underneath, a current of anxiety thrummed. College applications, acceptance letters, and goodbyes hung heavy in the air like the scent of cherry blossoms after a spring rain – beautiful, but with a hint of melancholy.

Shawn, usually a source of lightheartedness and playful teasing, had grown quiet, almost…melancholy. His gaze, when it landed on me, held a strange intensity, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of my face. It was endearing, yes, but also unsettling.

It wasn't just the impending separation from our friends and familiar routines. There was something more, a shadow I couldn't quite grasp, lurking in the depths of those usually bright gray eyes. He'd stare at me during lunch, a small frown tugging at his lips, and I'd find myself biting my own lip, trying to decipher the emotions swirling within him.

"Shawn," I'd ask, my voice carefully neutral, despite the knot of worry tightening in my chest, "is everything alright?"

He'd blink, as if startled out of a daydream, that familiar playful smirk returning like a ray of sunshine breaking through storm clouds. "Of course, Ryung. Why wouldn't it be?"

But his reassurances rang hollow, doing little to quell the unease growing within me.

The fear of the unknown, of the future stretching before us like a vast, uncharted sea, gnawed at my confidence. I knew what I wanted – to pour my heart and soul into acting. But what about Shawn? What did he want? And would our paths converge again after we said our goodbyes to SGA?

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

The announcement hit me like a bucket of ice water in the middle of December. Shawn and his family staying in Seoul for the holidays? It was unheard of. They always spent Christmas in Germany, surrounded by snow-dusted villages and the aroma of Lebkuchen.

"Your family…isn't going back?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even, my heart already pounding an erratic rhythm against my ribs.

We were standing near the library, a haven of quiet amidst the usual end-of-day chaos at SGA. But even the familiar scent of old books and the gentle rustling of pages couldn't soothe the sudden storm brewing inside me.

Shawn sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants. His shoulders seemed to slump under an invisible weight, and that familiar, melancholic look returned to his eyes, the one that had been haunting him for weeks.

And then, as if orchestrated by a mischievous deity, a nearby student hit 'play' on their phone's loud speaker. A wave of mournful Chinese music, a language I didn't understand but felt deep in my soul, washed over us. It was a love song, I could tell, laced with a heartbreaking longing that mirrored the emotions twisting in my gut.

"This could be our last winter holiday in Seoul as well…" Shawn began, his voice barely louder than the mournful melody drifting on the air. "My dad's being redeployed again. Somewhere else. Not Korea, not Germany…somewhere else."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Each word landed like a blow, stealing my breath and leaving a hollow ache in its wake.

"We'll be leaving three months after graduation," he finished, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the weight of the unspoken was too much to bear.

The music swelled, reaching a crescendo of bittersweet sorrow, a fitting soundtrack to the emotions threatening to drown me.

Three months. After graduation.

A single tear, traitorous and hot, escaped, tracing a path down my cheek. I quickly swiped it away, hoping Shawn hadn't noticed. I wasn't ready to break down, not yet. Not with that heart-wrenching melody serenading our impending doom.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. We had plans, vague and hopeful, but plans nonetheless. We'd navigate the choppy waters of post-graduation life, figure out universities, chase our dreams…together.

Now, a giant question mark had been stamped over our future, written in bold, permanent ink.

Three months. Then what? Long-distance? Was that even possible?

Shawn's voice, usually brimming with playful energy, was subdued, mirroring the melancholic melody still echoing in the air. He turned to me, his gaze intense, searching for…something in my eyes. I held my breath, my heart a trapped bird fluttering against my ribs.

He reached for me, his hand hovering for a split second as if remembering where we were, the unspoken rules of our secret still holding us captive within these school walls. His hand settled on my shoulder, a gesture both hesitant and reassuring.

"Ryung," he began, and even my name on his lips sounded different, heavy with unspoken emotions. "I may not have decided what I want after graduation, attending uni, or what course to take, but…"

His thumb brushed against my collarbone, a featherlight touch. The mournful Chinese love song, as if sensing the shift in our conversation, swelled again, the singer's voice thick with longing.

Shawn met my gaze, his gray eyes blazing with a sudden intensity that stole my breath. "There's one certainty I want in my future," he declared, his voice firm despite the tremor that ran through his words. "It's anything…with you in it."

The world seemed to shrink, the bustling school grounds fading into a blur of color and sound. All that remained was Shawn, his hand a warm weight on my shoulder, his words echoing in the space between us, a promise whispered into the wind.

He wanted a future with me.

My heart, which had been doing a frantic dance of despair just moments ago, did a complete one-eighty, soaring with a joy so intense it bordered on painful. In that instant, amidst the bittersweet symphony of our final winter break, amidst the uncertainty of graduation and goodbyes, one thing became undeniably clear.

I knew two things I wanted for my future: acting and Shawn. And if fate was feeling particularly kind, maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to have both.