Speak Now [1]

Act 1: Hell's Bells! Wedding Bells

"DAFAQQQQ! Not my cake! My lovely cake! No! Not the flowers. Those are expensive designer―ack! No! Not the statue!"

Crash!

Then the marble colossus of the groom and his little bride came tumbling down, breaking into a thousand little rock debris on the floor. The cake in question earlier was on everyone's hair and clothes. A tall young man was running in circles and hopping on table tops, away from a small gang of scrawny thugs who all wore leather as if it were the proper attire in fashion for a wedding.

The young man who was going all Jackie Chan, jumping on the chairs and tables is Choi Minho. The bride's brother. Tall, lean, and chocolate saucer sized eyes that matched his dark wavy hair which he is always begging for a haircut. He's actually quite good looking (although he admitted to me that he has had his nose done with the money he got from selling their house, but I'm getting ahead of myself here), a nimble chap who oozed charisma even as he dodged punches and kicks from the four goons after him.

The one screaming like a crazy catlady was Kim Heechul. He would be handsome too but his inherent predisposition to narcissism and ability to squawk like your menopausal aunt cancels that out altogether. Heechul was wearing a purple designer suit (or so I was told by no less than the man himself) that made him stand out in the white veil occasion, as if his crazy huge blings and bb cream that was thicker than his bride's didn’t do a good enough job of that. He is the second guy I have met who could identify chartreuse from pea green correctly after six rounds of drinks in a dimly lit, hazy club (I'll tell you about the first one some other time). I could swear on my mom's grave that this guy is definitely queer, if only I didn’t know that he knocked up Choi Jinri and this is their wedding we are talking about.

Choi Jinri, or Sulli as everyone called her, is like the female version of her brother Minho. Slim, tall (all four of them siblings are practically goliaths), pale skin, and big dark eyes  framed in inch long, jet black lashes that seemed to be the centerpiece of her simple yet immaculately lovely bridal gown. She stood teary-eyed, clenching her fists beside her pretty groom. Her long, sable-brown hair that cascaded in soft curls down to her midback was set with white flowerets. She would have been the perfect bride if you disregard the fact that she was just seventeen at the time of their marriage. Pedobait. Have I told you that Heechul was twenty-eight? No? Well, now you know.

You would think that their parents would have objected to this marriage but you have to know that their father passed away a few years back in a motor accident. And their mom? As this ruckus was happening, she was probably drinking wine or eating Tarte au Chocolat in France, Belgium, Italy or some other country where they always sound like they are wooing you even if they were just reading a restaurant menu. She eloped with a patissier who supposedly had a tall nose and a weird accent when Sulli was just three and then ran off to god-knows-where.

Their eldest brother was being pious somewhere in Ethiopia, feeding waifs or playing basketball with lepers at that time, so the rightful head of household at the moment was no one else but Choi Sooyoung.

Sooyoung was running about, catching her breath while trying to block the leather wearing punks, at the same time throwing random sucker punches at her brother for being such a doofus and ruining Sulli’s big day. Even if she didn’t really think that this wedding was the best idea (her sister dating Kim Pedobear in the first place wasn’t a good one either), she is not exactly pleased to see the affair being turned into a circus by her major pain in the ass brother and his antics.

“Goddammit Jinki!  Can’t you guys wait till the family occasion is over? My sister is trying to get married here. I’ll give you your damn money next week. I pro―ouch! What was that for? You’re supposed to be on my side Noona.” Minho rubbed his head where Sooyoung’s knuckles connected. The skinny leather gang closed in on him which drove him to hide behind his sister, as if her body was a good shield from his assailants.

“You have been saying that for three months now. I’ll smash your frog-face into next week if you don’t pay your debts!” the shortest one barked. He looked like a mix of a lizard and a puppy if you ask me, large nostrils and ripped body despite the lack in height department. Shorty looks like the leader of the pack, but actually he is not. He is just the most obnoxious one of them.

“I’ll personally pay for it myself and beat my brother half to death if he doesn’t pay”, Sooyoung said as she sighed and then she gave her brother another strike as if to crack his thick skull. “But can you give us about a month? My paycheck isn’t due yet. For now, please leave and spare my little sister from further embarrassment.” Her eyes were pleading and her lips were quivering. Her breaking voice would touch anyone’s heart, only in the way a beautiful girl about to cry could. She could’ve said that Sulli was on a delicate first trimester of pregnancy to add to the effect but of course people didn’t know that yet so she kept mum about the subject.

The troupe of thugs formed a circle and deliberated in hush voices for a brief moment before the leader signaled them to exit. All the guests were whispering indiscreetly and exchanging looks that probably said, what the hell just happened?

And as if nothing really happened, the groom ever casually grabbed a fork and clinked his glass in a crescendo to get everyone’s attention.

“Ehem,” he cleared his throat as his young bride carefully patted the smudged makeup under her round eyes. Everyone went back to their respective tables and rearranged the knocked over seats.

“Ouch! What did I do?” Minho whined as another punch landed on his arm courtesy of his older sister who now looked like she just grew ten years older in the past thirty minutes (that excludes the ten years added when she found out that their youngest was carrying the child of Kim Humbert, so she looked like she was forty-two at the ceremony).

“Hyung, are you ok?” asked Amber. She is Sooyoung’s best friend, a Taiwanese born in America, raised in Korea. She can’t speak Mandarin to save her life but her Korean is ok.

“Go easy on the kid”, Kyuhyun chuckled then gave Minho a high-five. He sat between the siblings to keep his girlfriend from murdering her brother.

“Why can’t you for once be a proper human being? Do you think it’s fun having your wedding crashed by strangers? Don’t you care about how your sister felt?”

“Hey, it’s not like I invited―”

“Shut your trap! I’ve had it up to here. Why can’t you just be a normal kid who goes to school like everyone else and not deal with gangsters like those? If dad were here… he’d want you to be in college. ” Sooyoung started to tear up. Amber patted her back. It would have been a girl talk moment but Amber doesn’t look or act like a girl so it ended up in a man-hug.

“Noona, if I forever try to fit in these boxes they try to mold me in, I’ll regret one day that an arm was cut off while trying to fit in. Why should I be measured by other people’s standards? Why can't I be measured by myself?”

“Boxes. Boxes. If you don’t stop your claptrap, I will cut your arm off myself.”

Silence.

“Let’s hear a word from the maid of honor. The sister of the bride, Choi Sooyoung” the emcee announced and Sooyoung gathered her thoughts as Amber pushed her up from her seat. She tried her best to look less exasperated and make her little speech not sound like a dirge.

“She speaks like she is in a soap opera. I didn’t do anything, really” Minho complained to Kyuhyun and Amber as if they were the jury of his case, his sister being his main prosecutor.

“She’s cute like that” the older one smiled as he glanced at Sooyoung who was giving her elegy to the baby of the family. The only female on the table only gave a laugh and scratched her blonde mop of a hair at the sublime cheesiness.

“Your boxes line was kinda cool too. I might use that one myself to my pop one day” the oldest one bumped fists with the younger lad and laughed. His laugh is a mix between evil, deranged and moronic. It’s creepy but it grows on you the more you hear it.

“I just got that from my favorite author” Minho chuckled and another round of high-fives among the three commenced.

“When I marry your sister, don’t bring those friends of yours. Just to keep her sanity at bay.” More laughter and snorts were exchanged. When these three are together, it’s like a case of dumb, dumber and dumberer.

“You’re planning to propose to her soon?”

“It’s a surprise, shhh.”

“Ayt. We’ll keep it low.”

“Yep. I’ll be quiet.”

“But between us, if Minho were a girl, I would marry him instead of his sister. She’s too uptight sometimes.”  Kyuhyun again laughed like a maniac like only he could.

Awkward silence.

“No thanks. I like you better as a brother-in-law.”

*****

In law school, four hour plane ride and three traffic laden hours by cab away from Seoul, Atty. Hustisya K. Batas was grilling her favorite student like she always does twice a week, which meant every class meeting. It’s a special treatment she reserves for students who don’t disintegrate into a puddle of panic at the sight of her eyebags and bug-like mole.

“Es dat right Mr. Shem? Are you shore?  Would you risk a sinco en your class card to depend your answer?” She spoke in heavily accented English with her voice higher than her killer heels that looked like stilts sewn to her stubby legs. I try to be politically correct when dealing with people who I don’t know personally so instead of calling her outright fat, I will just say that the attorney-professor was horizontally challenged. You may add vogue-challenged too if you would take into account her bird’s nest hair and monochromatic attire that made her look like an arctic creature to complement her squeaky voice.

“Yes ma’am” the sharp looking student answered confidently.

For someone who is one hundred percent Korean by blood and just prodded by his mother to attend law school in the University of the Philippines, you’d be amazed by Shim Changmin. He topped the entrance exam in the best law school in the country and he is consistently in suma cum laude standing. If you don’t know what that means, let’s keep it simple and say that he is one smart guy. I have a theory that his IQ is roughly equivalent to his height in centimeters and he is easily the tallest guy I have ever met in my whole life. (But then, I don’t get to meet a lot of people. I’m not a people person in general. The second tallest guy I know is Minho.)

                A voice from the back of the class shouted in Filipino “It’s eleven thirty!” then instantly everyone stood up and left the room without even waiting for their professor to dismiss the class. Changmin was left sitting under the intense gaze of his greatest nemesis in law school.

“Ok, you may go now. I will see you necks week” the pudgy terror shot a snotty glance at him and waddled away like a penguin.

“You coming with us for lunch, Max?” A buff Filipino guy called to him from the door. Behind him were two more who were bickering like kids. They waved at Changmin but he just shook his head and smiled.

“Richard lost a bet to Dennis, it’s on him. Come on. It’s just Rodic's but Chard is a cheapskate so this is once in a blue moon.”

“Sorry Dingdong, I have to meet the boss today. She’ll chop my head off if I don’t appear on time. Beef jerky is nice but I’d like to keep my head for Batas’ oral exams” he declined in perfect Filipino. If not for his last name, you wouldn’t guess he is Korean. He is even tanner than the classmate that he was speaking to. He blends in quite well. You should hear him slur in vernacular. But of course he has lived here since he was ten so his fluency in the language isn’t really a surprise.

“Mr. Gutierrez, Mr. Trillo! Stop bantering on da hall way. Adder classes are going on!” a voice from outside screeched.

“Oops, happy feet is here. Gotta go. Good luck!” Then the buff dude scooted away.

“Mr. Dantes no running en da hallway! Dis is nat a playground! What are you? Kindergarten?”

Changmin just sighed and shook his head.

*****

“What took you so long? And why you riding jeepney? I told you take cab. It’s so hot. Why you not bring umbrella I bought you? You smell like wet market. Ugh. And why you not wearing clothes Yaya prepare? You look like a farmer. Oh my god, this child! What will Lee family say? Do you want people think I don’t take care my son?” Madame Kris Shim, as she liked to be called, spoke in broken Filipino. Her English is passable but her speaking in her adoptive country’s mother tongue is like Amber speaking in Chinese. It’s plain hilarious.

To her credit, Changmin did smell like a wet market when he is all sweaty like that. But she was a bit exaggerated on the looking like a farmer part. I have seen him in farmer’s clothes and what he sported that day was a far cry. He did look slovenly though, but what would you expect after being sandwiched between a fish vendor and a sweaty man that looked like incredible hulk in a public utility vehicle?

Mr. Lee arrived early enough to prevent Changmin from being verbally murdered by his own mom at the restaurant with all the people listening in to them. It would have been great if she just spoke Korean to lessen the humiliation on the poor son’s part but Mrs. Shim had this no Korean policy ever since she set foot on Manila. His sons had no problem with this since they caught the language easily from an early age but her husband and herself struggled to keep conversations going in the foreign tongue.

“Hello Sangmi. Is this our little Changmin? Oh my, he has grown so much taller than I remember” the ancient looking man greeted them with a bow and warm handshakes. He had this air of regality in him that would make you think that he must have been an emperor in his past life. Behind him was a very delicate looking girl.

That’s Yeonhee, the only daughter of the Korean Consul Lee. She looks like a china doll with her perfectly poreless rosy white skin and those dreamy eyes that plastered innocence on her over all look. She has the face that every self respecting Korean woman would pay good money for in the best cosmetic clinic and an s-line that makes you think that the term bagel girl was made specifically for her. She was wearing a simple sundress that hugged every curve of her womanly body. Aside from being flawlessly gorgeous at any given moment, her hobbies include bible study groups, doing work for UNICEF, PAWS and all other charity foundations that I could think of. She teaches those kids who you would call special children after turning down several scholarship grants in the US. I swear I could see a halo above her head and flowers grew on the path she walked. Just sitting beside her would make you instantly look like an unworthy pile of dogshit. I know at least seven guys whose greatest dream in life is to marry her.

That’s Lee Yeonhee for you.

*****

While Changmin is in Manila having the lunch with Mother Teresa, probably foaming a little in the mouth while he watches perfection incarnate take a bite out of her vegetarian meat course, the Kim-Choi nuptials in Korea was about to end. And since there was no more cake to cut, they went ahead to the part where the bride throws away the boquet and the groom throws a garter. The garter landed in the bowl of punch.

Sooyoung was not in the mood to play catch-the-big-bunch-of-freesia so she just stood at the sidelines putting band aids at her heels. She was seemingly cursing heaven in her mind for giving him two teenage delinquents as siblings. (But then, maybe that’s just me putting words to her actions when I’m not even there to witness it firsthand. But I know these people and this is how they told me the story. It’s the closest we can get. )

But as fate would have it, or Sulli had extremely good aim, the white and yellow bouquet landed exactly at Sooyoung’s feet.