Jacob stands in the middle of Eoulmadang-ro, the famous street of performers in Seoul. Among the aspiring musicians, dancers, and performers that were gathered in front of the many shops and stands, Jacob’s eye is caught by something else entirely. Something that doesn’t belong to the happy gatherings around the singing, energetic dancing, and amazing illusions. He sees himself, standing with his old blacktop guitar, green strap, and microphone. The doppelganger isn’t doing much of anything, just leisurely strumming the chords of a song that he used to play for Dee, before they had split up.

An anger slow boils inside him, confusion stirs his head, and violation strikes at his chest. He thinks that it might be someone just trying to imitate him - someone who had seen him many years ago while visiting Dee before their breakup. But then he realizes that there’s no way anyone knew him - no one had stopped by to hear him play or sing. The only thing that he can think of is that a passerby saw him, alone and audience-less, and thought that it was funny. He thinks that must be it.

He walks toward the imitator, not certain of the details of what he's going to do, only that he’s going to confront the Performer. As he passes the other musicians on the street, their audiences are drawn away and gravitate to the Performer. His voice grows louder and the crowd hums along and bobs their heads with the beat. When Jacob is close enough he notices that the Performer is singing in perfect Korean, at least to a point that Jacob can’t recognize the words with his limited grasp of the language or discern if the accent is different from a foreigner’s. A pang of jealous stabs at him. He’d been practicing the language for years for Dee, but made little progress.

	Jacob makes his way to the front of the gathered crowd. The Performer’s words are lively and Jacob can see his dancing over a few of the people he passes. That energy was something Jacob had to actively try when he was still trying to become a musician. At the time, he knew that it would bring people in. But he could never bring himself to do it, always held back by his insecurities and self consciousness that he wasn’t from there. Jacob finally gets to the front and has a clear view. He sees that they’ve perfected every imperfection, from his long shaggy hair to the numerous pimple scars on his cheeks. He’s flustered and thinks of nothing else but confronting the impostor and finding out why they’re imitating him. But as much as he wants to get in the person’s face, he waits for the performance to be over. He doesn’t  want to draw any attention to himself, especially on a visitor’s visa. When the singing is over, the Performer bows and turns around to his amplifier and switches it off. A few of the audience members linger, but none approach, so Jacob gathers what little Korean he can say in this moment and angrily walks up. 

	“뭐 하세요?” Jacob asked abruptly. The Performer freezes and turns around, revealing a big smile.

	“Your pronunciation is better,” he says, cradling the guitar at his stomach. The Performer’s English is perfect, and sounds familiar. Was he from the States too? He definitely didn’t have a Korean accent and it didn’t sound like a European one or any that he could recognize from around the world. It didn’t even sound like it was from the southern states or east coast. And the sound of his voice is so close to familiar. Regardless, Jacob speaks up.

	“What the hell, man, you look like me,” Jacob says plainly. The Performer chuckles and puts his hands in his pockets.

	“No, no. You look like me.”

	“What?”

	“It’s not that I look like you, it’s that you look like me,” the Performer says and digs a finger into Jacob’s chest. Jacob squints at him, feeling the fury fill up inside of him. He feels a weight on him, then looks down at the Performer’s finger. But instead of seeing his finger, his guitar is at his stomach.  Jacob looks up at the Performer, but sees that he’s now among the audience that had gathered just a few seconds ago and Jacob was the center of attention. 

	“See? Just like me,” the Performer excitedly shouts with an even wider toothy grin. He claps and bobs his head along with the crowd. The fury that Jacob had just felt is replaced by a deep confusion. He tries to remove the guitar from around him, but his hands move up and down the neck, his once calloused hands press into familiar frets, and words vibrate out of his throat.

	The crowd applauds and when the song approaches its end, a few people toss some bills into his hat. When his hand strikes the last chord, Jacob's body bows deeply and shouts out "감사합니다!" He tries to reel his head back, but his body stays bowed for a few more seconds to accept the praise. When he returns to his normal standing position, the Performer is still applauding as the crowd thins a little bit. Many stay and wait eagerly for the next song, but they seem to be frozen in their smiles.

        "It's fun being me, huh?" He asks as he walks up to Jacob. Everything around them is still and the bustling area is stopped. The shocking transition from constant white noise to absolute silence catches Jacob’s breath. He closes his eyes to see if it’s a dream.

        “But, it’s not really your time,” the Performer says and Jacob feels a body run into him for a second. When he opens his eyes again, he is standing in the audience where the Performer once was. The people who were eagerly waiting nod their heads and give approving smiles to the concert. In a fit of confusion, Jacob rushes up to the Performer and grabs his shoulders. But before he can make demands, the Performer puts the guitar down onto a stand that Jacob hadn’t noticed before. It was dingy and barely held up, just like the one that he had when he was in college.

        His chest feels cold and hollow, as if all of the air has been leaking out and been slowly replaced with a freezing gust of wind from the top of a mountain. He shivers and looks around. The people, the street, everything is gone. Instead, he sees that he’s standing in his bathroom at the old studio apartment he lived in ten years ago. He peeks out of the door and sees that the sunlight is flooding on his old desk is in the corner of the bedroom, on the walls are his old posters of his favorite anime characters, off to the side are his old clothes drying rack, next to that the small bookshelf that balanced his TV, even the night stand that the old tenant had left behind. Everything was exactly the same. And in the corner, next to his night stand, his twin bed is occupied by a blob of a shadow.

	The Performer appears next to him and Jacob sees his gaze is on the bed, a smile as if he were watching a newborn baby with complete adoration. Jacob watches him walk forward as if in a funeral procession, with each step a brief pause before the other foot is lifted. When he gets to the side of the bed where the shadowy figure is, the Performer beckons Jacob over. He feels compelled to follow, understand what and how and why this is happening, so he approaches. 

        “It’s the first time, you know. Where who we are was born. Of course, we were an idea way before this. But this, this is where we were born. Where we were one, two little dust specks in time, together, before the inevitable separation and solitary float through space time alone. Absolutely wonderful,” the Performer touches the shadowy blob and the cold feeling stabs inside of Jacob. He stares at a naked version of himself on the bed that looks down at a naked Jan. His dark skinned body grinding against her fair skin, both melding into the other. They begin to move, their hips grinding against each other. 

        “What is this? Stop. Stop this immediately,” Jacob says angrily, his fist raised and ready to strike, The Performer shrugs and looks on at the naked Jacob and Jan continue unphased by their presence as if they aren’t there.

        “You know what it is. And I can’t stop it,” the Performer says. Jacob grabs naked Jacob and the cold feeling in his chest disappears. His eyes are locked with Jan’s. They’ve paused their moving and grinding for a moment. Jacob’s skin feels hot and he can feel himself sweating all over. He can feel the warmth of her vagina around his penis, but it’s not the same as he remembers. The warmth doesn’t fill him. But it should. Jan smiles at him and pulls him to her body so that their rising and falling chests are touching. He knows this part, too, and the cold feeling returns to his chest.

       He tries to squirm away, but his body won’t budge. Instead, he feels Jan’s hair graze against his cheek. His head turns to look at her and they look for a second. The cold feeling returns to inside his chest. 

       “사랑해요. I love you, Jacob,” she says with a smile. Her accent echoes in his head. He knows that the words should be melting the cold that’s gathered inside of him. Instead, his skin feels as though it’s on fire and bubbling. He turns to look at the Performer. He stares down at Jacob with the same adoring eyes and Jacob can feel tears run down his cheeks. The Performer puts a hand on his shoulder.

        Jacob is back to where he was standing previously. The naked Jacob and Jan are continuing and the Performer walks over to the bedroom door.

	“Come on. Just a few more things, then it’ll be done,” he says, obviously pleased with himself.

	“Why are you doing this?” Jacob asks, wiping away the tears and catching his breath. The Performer shrugged his shoulders.

	“But I’m not doing it,” his smile is different this time. Jacob can feel the pity from it, instead of a pleased or menacing intent. The Performer opens the door and reveals a pitch black that Jacob’s never experienced before. Jacob wants to refuse to go. He wants to continue to be able to stay there in hopes that things will be better somehow. Perhaps the cold will grow into a strange warmth, help him instead of hurt him. Perhaps everything there can fade away. Or perhaps the two will stop and leave him to just sit there in the room. Just as long as he gets to stay and no longer move.

        “We both know that nothing like that will happen,” The Performer says plainly. Jacob nods his head in shame and walks over. The cold still pounds in chest and takes his breath away, making it difficult to move without pain. The Performer stands patiently, though, gesturing to the door encouragingly. Jacob walks through, rubbing his chest in circles in an attempt to feel some kind of warmth inside. 

        He stands in the bedroom of his aunt and uncle’s house, four years after the last memory. Both he and the Performer stand in front of the closed door, staring at another Jacob laying on the bed. This time, he is laying on his back with the phone pressed against his ear. The cold blows hard against the inside Jacob’s chest and he falls forward, unable to hold himself up. After a few seconds, he can feel himself being pulled up by the Performer. He oddly knows where he’s going to take him and doesn’t fight back. It brings a familiar comfort to him.
“This is our last moment together,” Jacob hears the Performer say behind him as he’s plunged onto the laying Jacob’s body. Then, he’s staring at the ceiling, contemplating, but already knowing what words to say at the same time. He tries his best to clench his jaw, put a mouth over his hand, close his throat, anything to stop him from talking.

	“I’m… too foreign. Your parents hate the idea of me dating you. And I know that it’s hard to defend me against them. And no matter what I do - learn how to speak with them, move over there, learn how to adapt to the culture, it’ll just never be enough, for them,” Jacob says. The cold gets stronger, but Jacob can’t move any part of himself.

	No sound comes from the phone for a few seconds, then Jan apologizes. Jacob has the words rehearsed, though it brings him an overwhelming shame that spreads the cold throughout his entire body. His mouth opens, but his tongue isn’t shaping into the words that are in his head and his throat doesn’t let the proper amount of air out to say the right words. A panic comes over him and he struggles to flail his arms about, to gain some semblance of control. He blinks and sees himself laying on the bed again.

	“But… I don’t want to give up on us,” Jacob says. “Please, don’t give up on me. I don’t want to go on with anyone else but you.”

	Jacob didn’t know how, but he knew that it was the Performer in the body. He knew that she was telling him that she wouldn’t give up on him, that it was a silly thought. He knew that the Performer was going to tell her all about his studies and how he was going to do even more to show her parents and her that he wouldn’t be a problem for them. And he knew that she was going to say that it wouldn’t be a problem, because she preferred the idea of living in the States, away from her parents and with him so that they wouldn’t have to worry about her parents. 

	But Jacob knows that this is wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He knows that it’s a good thing, what he’s hoped for, but the cold in his chest shoots itself into all of his body and turns into dread. He feels violated and confused and angry. But the Performer doesn’t step out of the laying Jacob. In fact, he tells her one last “사랑해요”, hung up the phone, and walks past Jacob as if he doesn’t exist and out of the door. Everything was still and Jacob was left there, staring at the door. The thought of staying there came across him again, but the biting winds and dread reacts more violently than the thought of following the Performer. He stumbles to the door, each icy breath a stinging and painful feeling in his mouth, throat, chest, then back out.

	When he finally makes it through the door, he is greeted by a mass of tables organized in front of a stage. Jan’s family and Jacob’s family sit facing the stage, staring at the Performer and Jan, who look to be closer in age to when Jacob was roaming Eoulmadang-ro. The Performer wears a well tailored, gray suit and stands next to Jan who is wearing a minimally designed white dress. The Performer begins speaking and instead of the cold, Jacob feels a numbness in his chest.

	“Thank you all for being with us in our journey to this point. I know that this is a moment to enjoy, but I want to say,” the Performer says and then turns to Jan, reaching for her hand. “추억을 같이 만들 싶어요. I hope to make more precious memories with you, until time doesn’t let us anymore.” The Performer kisses her and the entire room explodes into applause, glasses clinking, cheering, and hollering.

        Jacob crumples to the floor and squeezes at his chest, not sure if he’s still capable of breathing. As he looks at all of the happy faces around him, panic overcomes him for a second. Then, everything freezes and the Performer walks down the steps on the side of the stage, down the aisle and to the double doors where Jacob is crouched with his face buried into his knees. He stands over him, nodding his head and clicking his tongue in disappointment. Then he holds his hand out.

	“You can be me, you know,” the Performer says. Jacob looks up at the Performer, uncertain if it was the right thing to do. But the Performer’s reassurance lures him in. Jacob reaches out with hesitance. Their fingers inch closer and Jacob feels the air rush into his lungs. It feels good and tears well in his eyes. But before they can touch, Jacob quickly pulls back. He knows something isn’t right. The feeling in his chest is wrong. It’s not how it’s supposed to be. The Performer is frozen, his hand still stretched out. The cold returns and Jacob continues his ragged breathing. Everything is frozen in time around him. He struggles to get up, but when he does, he takes a good look at the reception hall, the families, Jan, the Performer, at everything he wanted before. Then, he stumbles to the door and places his hand on the doorknob. He wonders if he can stay, but knows that he can’t. He opens the door and bumbles out and finds himself back in Eoulmadang-ro. 

	He stands in a crowd of people, watching a musician who sang songs that he might have wanted to play before, when he had more waiting for him there in Korea. When the musician finishes, the crowd applauds and Jacob sticks around. He watches the young man pack up and tries to get used to the dull beat and tiny warmth inside the hollow cavity of his chest.