Shakespeare Hates My Emo Poems
Artwork by Vicky (kai_xin_alwayys @ soompi)
“Shakespeare hates emoism. He hates you and your guts. He hates your emo poems.”
Was that an announcement or a challenge?
“But I don’t write for Shakespeare…”
A flare of animosity shot up his nostrils.
“Moreover, he’s been dead for centuries…”
If irritation had a name, a face, then I was staring right at it. Though frightfully intimidating, I felt somewhat secure and honored to be addressed so rudely publicly. The intense gleam of disgust didn’t falter though I was positive this breathtaking creature narrowed its eyes to scrutinize me. Again, I was thrilled beyond words.
“And lastly, I don’t write poetry.”
Stunner!
Nonchalance is my charm. Sarcasm is what I speak. Honesty is my philosophy. Cruelty is just too much and unjust in the society we live in.
I allowed myself to smile.
“I’ll get you,” he spat.
Was that a threat or a promise?
The prideful scorn melted off the surface of his pinched features just as another dazzling figure appeared by his side. This partner in crime of his didn’t bother to acknowledge me. I recognized him as the placid and timid errand boy. As I marveled at the two man beauties, I began to ponder to what good graces do I owe for such undivided attention?
“Hyung, Yunho is waiting,” Errand informed softly.
Stiff and overbearing Jung Yunho was another asshole worth a few buckets of dribble.
A long and thin finger thrust forward, forcing me to jerk back involuntarily. I slid right off the marble bench along with my books and supplies. My bag toppled over onto his feet. I watched in a daze as he kicked aside my belongings and took a few steps towards me. He squatted to level his face with mine. That finger of his was still in my face, swaggering.
“I’ll come back for you, smart ass. Just you wait.” He waved his cell phone and reached down for mine that was buried beneath the pile of books. He dug around for my phone and flipped it open with ease. His thumb proceeded to glide smoothly across the keypad as I listened to the different tones my phone emitted. This asshole was calling himself with my phone. All the while this was going on; I realized he never took his eyes off me. Even when he searched for my phone, when he dialed his own number. After producing one shriek, he snapped his phone shut. He tossed mine back at me. He rose and turned to his minion. “C’mon, Changmin.”
And I watched the two disappear.
For what seemed an eternity was only two minutes. My conversation with a sophisticated jackass was two minutes long. I pouted. I allowed the warm May breeze that swept the two away to return and envelope me in its enchanting power. I cradled the one item that tied me to the attractive being. That was my precious phone. I sighed and flipped it open to inspect it.
A text message from Yoochun flashed repeatedly to remind me I had to work a double and en route I had to pick up dinner for Junsu. The memo finished off with an assignment that would be due in two days.
I groaned. Whenever Yoochun delivered a text message pertaining to class assignments that was implication I had to take care of it for him. No questions, no buts, no excuses. That was an “even” exchange for using his notes whenever we “coincidentally” shared the same classes. I was his Changmin just as Changmin was to his two mystified owners.
I remained slouched over in despair until a loud shrill pierced the tranquility that had settled.
Dying. My phone was dying.
I gasped once senses were restored back to me. I reexamined my phone.
Shit. This arrogant bastard didn’t even check to see if my number appeared on his phone. It just so happened I’ve set my number to private. Served him right.
I smirked once I realized how I have outsmarted my way out of unnecessary trouble. I immediately slapped a hand over my mouth to smother a triumphant giggle that bubbled at my lips. But victory was short-lived. Another text message arrived and this time from Yoochun’s counterpart, Junsu.
Should I be concerned when Shim Changmin suddenly takes interest in what I would like for dinner?
Shim Changmin?
Jackpuss, I’ll be right over.
And my screen blanked out.
I jerked to my feet and didn’t even consider collecting the things I’ve neglected and abused by dearest Kim Jaejoong. I abandoned them as I have a matter of life and death to deal with. If Junsu’s greediness and Yoochun’s stupidity were to join forces, that would mean the end to the both of them. And who knew what were Yunho and Jaejoong’s intentions. I had to find out.
I leapt across the marble bench and proceeded in the direction of the library, where Yoochun and Junsu were hard at work. The two rotated day and evening shifts as I worked the graveyard hours. I cringed at the thought of work. The two probably accepted more assignments than I could handle. The three of us formed TRICK, a 24 hour paper service. Need a 20 page research paper done? Well, we’re here to help. For a meager price.
As I approached the span of lush green that stood between me and library, my eyes flitted to its corner and found a very familiar figure sauntering about ten feet away from me. I immediately recognized him as the source of my agony.
He was strolling at a leisurely pace with his face buried in what appeared to be a black journal. Behind him, Yunho trailed after just as slowly. I sprinted towards them as I began to dig in my pockets for a piece of paper.
I flagged him down. “Kim Jaejoong!”
That prompted him to look up from his reading material just as I caught the end of his shirt. Yunho slowed to a stop before he could collide into us. Changmin brushed past me just as I slid around front to face Jaejoong. He no longer wore a scowl. Instead, that was replaced by a look of surprise. A half-smoked cigarette dangled from his pursed lips while his luminous eyes scanned my face. Upon recognition, he snapped his book shut and yanked the cigarette from his lips.
His fingers curled instinctively around my wrist and twirled me around into his arms. His smothering touch set me on fire as I nestled my face into the crook of his neck. I struggled to think straight. He didn’t seem fazed by my apprehension.
“Walk with me,” he commanded. He finished the last of his cigarette and flung it aside. He applied additional pressure to my twisted wrist and steered me away.
“How dare you block your number? Who taught you that clever little trick?”
A shove sent me flying backwards onto the fresh cut grass. “Your dumb ass should’ve checked.”
He raised a brow quizzically. “You have something to show me?”
I handed him the wrinkled receipt that was to be Yoochun’s assignment. I watched him plot himself onto the green meadow as he accepted my challenge. His bright red lips part to draw in a loud hiss. I tilted backwards and sprawled across the surface of spring. From where I lay, I peered admiringly into this man-beauty’s face. I watched those sparkling eyes shift from one end of the paper to the other, quietly murmuring the words imprinted on there. I resisted the urge to press my finger on his nose.
“Did you send Changmin to SuChun?”
Silence.
“Kim Jaejoong!”
“Shut up, feeble whore.”
I obliged. Strangely, I found it quite warm and endearing he had addressed me that way. I continued to stare at his lovely lips, quietly gaze at his charming eyes, resent his wisdom, envy his beautifully and skillfully crafted fingers, loving his rude ways.
The snow is red with dread
Along this path painted by freckles of black rain
Will you find howls of weeping willow
So sweet, so intrepid
By tomorrow, smothered
The breeze is violet with regret
On this bare tree rattled by blue nylon
Will you taste undertones of forever
So bitter, so sacred
By tomorrow, forgotten
He groped for words. I jerked with slight anticipation as I could see he was irked. He was bothered by his inability to comment. He turned with a crooked smirk that revealed too much of what I suspected. I clung onto his shirttail to prevent him from running off. I tightened my grip.
“Eri, this is shit.”
And that is precisely why William Shakespeare hates my emo poems.
