The cherry blossoms have started to grow back. I walk through the bright streets of our little town when I see her. She looks different out of uniform, without her hair in a bun. Almost better. But she's not wearing ballet garments either, today, she's dressed in a pink cashmere sweater, along with white jeans and pastel beige heels. She takes a seat on a metal bench, just below a new, baby tree, with her headphones in her ears. Even with her normal angry persona, Haneul looks more pissed off than usual.

I walk up to her, unsure of what I'm actually doing. I sit down next to her, where her pastel bag is placed carelessly on her side. "Hi," I say simply. She turns to face, me and I can see the tears glistening in her eyes. She hastily wipes them off with the end of her sleeves, blinking away the redness that's clearly obvious. "Hi," she replies, trying to catch her voice. "Where's your little dog?"

"Who?"

"Nana. She follows you around like a puppy," she sniffs. My mouth spreads into a smile, and I shrug. "I don't like dogs. Neither does she."

Haneul pauses slightly. "You sound happy talking about her..." Her eyes trail down to the ground, in an almost exact imitation of Nana's shy glance. But she looks down with a sad glint in her eyes, and I can tell that something's troubling her. "What's up?" I ask her.

"Nothing. I'm perfectly fine." After a second, a sudden cry snaps me back to attention, to the sound of her tears spilling. Haneul chokes on her words, and ends up with her hands over her face. In an awkward position, I pat her back. Once she hasn't stopped completely, but isn't hiccuping or choking, I mumble, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Everything," she cries, her eyes averting from my own. "Everything is wrong. My entire world is collapsing."

I look at her cold eyes, that are burning with a psychotic rage. Her eyeliner melts down her face in a sad waterfall of tears, as she blubbers and chokes. She looks more fragile and vulnerable than I've ever seen her. "My therapist...said I can't dance until I gain weight."

The words sink into me. Jo Haneul, a ballerina. Her whole life was spent in France, at the Paris Opera of Ballet training to become a professional. I let her cry into my shirt, clinging to me as if I give her life. She looks horrible, like her entire life has been ruined. Which, in a way, it has. Haneul hugs me tightly, wetting my shirt with her tears. "It's okay..." I coax, an attempt to cheer her up. "Just eat."

"It's not okay. I'm a ballerina. I'm supposed to be in control of everything, I'm supposed to be thin and perfect. Why won't they let me dance?" She lets go of me reluctantly, and I ease back further away from her.

"It'll be fine, I swear. After a bit you'll gain weight and dance again."

Haneul looks up at me with her eyes full of tears. "I don't want to gain weight. I don't want her to beat me."

It takes me a minute to realise who 'her' is, but when I do, I gulp down the horrible feeling in my guts. "Yunji is the least of your worries. She's not so bad."

"She is. I hate her. I hate Nana. And I hate you for loving her." She turns away from me, averting her eyes. "What does she have that I don't?" she whispers. "I'm perfect. Aren't I?"

I smile, looking down at the ground. "You are perfect. But didn't you know?" I stand up, prepared to leave. "I'm attracted to flaws. I like mistakes." I turn around, prepared to leave Haneul like dust in the wind, when I feel her wrap her thin arms around my waist. I don't move. Her head nestles deeper into my back, I can already feel the dampness of her tears soaking through my shirt again.

"I'm sorry," I tell her honestly. 

"Me too. I'm sorry too." For a minute I think that Haneul isn't as bad as I made her out to be. From far away, she looks like a cold, heartless devil. She's looks like the spawn of evil, a spoiled ballerina who doesn't care about anyone but herself. But deep inside, I'm sure she's got a heart. Probably. Just when I start to consider her a friend, I see something. A flicker of curly hair, a flash of lace. My heart race quickens, and I immediately throw Haneul's arms off me.

"Nana!" I yell, running towards her. I run away from that girl who really is as horrible as she looks, who is as lifeless and limp as a corpse. Unemotional. Heartless. I grit my teeth as Nana steps even further away from me. This scene feels almost too familiar. It's like deja vu. Like when Sungyeol was with Nana, and I brushed past them as if I didn't give a damn. Only I did. And Nana probably does too.

But my legs are longer than hers, and in a matter of minutes, I've caught up to her. I grab her wrist, and spin her around to face me. "Hey, that--"

"Let go of me.." she whimpers. Nana tries to pull my hand off her wrist, weakly, her brows furrowing in concentration. This is probably a wrong time to thing she looks really cute.

"No. I won't." 

She snaps back up to me. "What?" Her soft eyes are framed with hurt. Her long brown lashes desperately trying to blink away tears that spring up, betraying a shield.

"I don't want to let you go. I'm sorry. That wasn't what it looked like."

"I don't care! Let go of me now." Nana goes back to pulling away from me, using her free hand to scratch my arms. Her scratches sting, but I couldn't care less. "That's how I feel when you're with Sungyeol," I tell her harshly. I can see her face fall, her breath quickening. "At least I'm mature enough to trust you." I let go of her arm aburptly, and she steps backwards. I walk away in the opposite direction, not wanting to look back.

If I look back, I'll want to hug her. The feeling of regret eats up my core, but I ignore it. Maybe this is for the best. Nana fit with Sungyeol better anyway. Gritting my teeth, I retrace my steps. But when I reach the bench where I saw Haneul, like a ghost, she's gone.

sorry that was so depressing ;-; YeolNa chapter next! I hope. <3
AND WE HAVE AN OST!
go to the bottom of the foreword and check it out ~