There’s the courthouse.  Turning back is not an option now. I walked this far. I should go in.

Inside the courtroom, I take a seat. Many unfamiliar people fill the seats, mostly wives and some elderly parents. I must be the only young one around here.

A woman shuffles sideways into my row with a little girl in her hand. She settles down next to me.

The girl plays on the floor, combing her doll’s hair.

“Darling, sit here properly.” Her mother picks her up.

The juries and judge walk in and takes their place. So do the lawyers as well as the defendants and plaintiffs. My parents sit behind them along with a group of people who I assume are also suing the company for fraud.

“That’s your dad,” the mother points out to her daughter. The man she points out to sits next to my father. Therefore, this woman and I are on the same side.

“Papa…” her daughter softly says. I wonder what happened to her family when her dad was taken away. Did they crumble into pieces? Was there enough backup fund to keep their regular lives going? I face forward and think about everyone affected by this. Did anyone end up on the worse end of the stick like how I did? Luxury became a dream overnight.  

“Oh, your brother just came,” the woman says, making space for her son to sit next to her.

However, my eyes are glued to the back of my parents’ heads.

The strength I gathered to attend this hearing that prevented myself from breaking down uncontrollably on my way here is slowly draining away.

My parents.

I miss them so badly.

I miss their love.  

The mother-daughter relationship I’m witnessing beside me has intensified my desire for the warmth I’ve lost. I wipe a stray tear away from my cheeks.

----

The arguments between the lawyers give me a headache. I cover my head with my arms, frustrated by this court session.

Those dramas in the television sure have watered down all the court proceedings using laymen’s terms so that the audience at home can understand much more easily. Meanwhile, as a previously known straight ‘A’ student, my brain cannot wrap around the exchange that’s happening before me.

Are the people on my parents’ side winning? Losing?

The judge signals the end of the session, hammering twice.

People start leaving, yet I remain on the bench. I don’t think my parents see me as they leave although I can see them scanning the crowd for people they know. For their daughters. That’s unfortunate, but I completely understand how they failed to see me. I lost so much weight, happiness… I lost many things. My personality used to glow with optimism wherever I was. Not anymore. I’m just dripping with scepticism now.

“You alright, dear?” the woman beside me asks, breaking my thought process. I glance at her, surprised. “You look sick.”

“Just overwhelmed,” I admit, pointing to the surroundings. “This – it’s…” I sigh, unable to find a word that can translate my feelings.

“Who are you here for?”

“My parents,” I reply weakly, bending over to my knees. If I can’t control myself, I will be bawling in a matter of seconds.

I stand up to leave, feeling the sadness rising. I can’t embarrass myself here.

The mother stands up too, along with her son beside her.

“Hanbyul ah, careful,” the son says, tugging his little sister back so that she can give me space.

My head automatically snaps up to catch a look at the owner of this voice – a voice that I often relate to my dreams and never in my right mind can I ever imagine hearing it in this sobering reality of mine.

I stand so still for a few seconds, taking every inch of his face, his eyes, his body, and, basically, his whole being in. He gazes back at me tensely. It really is Hanbin.

My headache grows much worse.

This collision of the two worlds of mine causes an internal confusion.

Realizing that I’m point blank staring at him, I pick up my pace and exit the courtroom.

I stumble to a secluded spot, catching my breath. I bend over with my hands on the walls, heaving. This is too much. I’m filled with internal turmoil.

I always thought that I am so over my pitiful life and that I’m immune to my own sadness, but seeing my parents again is a strong reminder of the life I lost. I can’t help myself from imagining a life where everything is still the same and in that life, my only worry is if I get an ‘A’ grade. Back then, I was highly insecure about my weight. Wouldn’t it be amazing if those are my worries now?

I take back my prayers back then, constantly wishing I could be an adult sooner. It now feels as if life took my prayers and threw it back in my face. Here’s adulthood. Here it is, worrying legitimately about my survival. A raw type of adulthood where there’s no one to protect me and nobody to lean on. I have myself and shadows of people who might help, but they can abandon me at any moment. I’m not their responsibility.

I fall to the floor when my arms weaken. I don’t even know if that hurts anymore.

My emotional pain takes the forefront, numbing all my other senses.

“Dear, are you okay?” Hanbin’s mother asks, crouching beside me.

“Stop,” I push her comforting arms away. “Stop…” Don’t watch me as I break down.

She envelopes me in a warm hug, squeezing me tighter the more I resist.

----

Hanbin watches me cautiously from afar.

“Just leave me alone,” I say, exhausted.

His mother tried to cheer me up by bringing me out for a drink. She attempted to make conversations with me. All that we established is that my parents used to work with her husband and that we’re on the same side. I figured that out way before so that isn’t new information to me.

She also found out from Hanbin that I work at YG too.

“Oh, you’re a trainee too?” Mrs. Kim asked, excitedly. “I’ve never met any girl friends of Hanbin’s.”

“Mum,” Hanbin muttered, embarrassed.

“No, I’m just a low level worker,” I told her, morose.

I told Mrs. Kim that I really don’t want to intrude in her family moment but she refuses to let me leave alone.  She somehow thinks Hanbin and I are friends so she forced Hanbin to send me home.

Home? What home?

Hanbin is obediently listening to his mother’s order. She went home with Hanbyul while I’m here, stuck with Hanbin trailing me. On another day, I would be happy for this opportunity. Unfortunately, this week has been weighing down on me with all its complications.

“Just go home,” I beg him weakly. I need to be alone so I can think about my life rationally.

He doesn’t reply and keeps a fair distance between us.

I turn around to face him. I can’t believe my eyes whenever I see him before, but now my disbelief originates from a completely new perspective.

He’s not just that YG trainee who gained fame. He’s now a person who has a father in prison.

Funny how the only thing we have in common with each other is something we both probably don’t want to have in the first place. It’s such a saddening connection.

We walk together towards YG in silence. I have a piercing headache so I have to stop occasionally only to groan in pain.

“Do you need anything? Maybe go to the hospital?” he asks, concerned for the umpteenth time.

“Forget about it,” I mutter, weary. “Can’t afford it.”

When he realizes where we’re heading, he stops in his tracks.

“I’m supposed to send you home,” he states, glancing at YG building doubtfully. “What are we doing here?”

I really don’t have the energy to entertain his questions. I need to get to my medicine supply which I left in my ‘bedroom’.

“Just go home already,” I tell him, leaving him behind as I run into the building. I hit the ‘up’ button on the elevator. I grunt, biting on my lips, as a stabbing pain is felt in my head.

The elevator door opens but I can only hold my head in my hands, forcibly restraining myself from screaming. My headache has developed into a migraine. It’s so painful.

I feel a pair of hands push me gently into the elevator.

“What level?” Hanbin asks, letting go of me.

As we reach the floor, I run to my room and rummage through my backpack.

“Where is it? Where’s my medicine?” I throw the contents of my backpack on the floor.

I whimper pathetically when the migraine hits again, leaning my back against the wall.

I hear the sound of plastic being ripped open and Hanbin places two tablets in my grip.

He passes a water bottle to me on my other hand.

I take my medicine. I feel my head swaying from side to side. Is the world revolving too fast or am I tipsy from the pain?

He puts my head against his palm and brings my head down to a pillow. He fixes a blanket around my body.

“No, it’s too hot,” I complain, sticking my leg outside the blanket.

“It’s your jacket. Open your jacket,” I hear him say behind closed eyes. I barely have energy to do anything as miniscule as that.

“You can leave now,” I tell him between gritted teeth. Don’t moan out loud – a groan slips from my lips before I can help myself.

“I’m gonna open your jacket for you, okay?” he politely asks for my permission.

It is hot. It probably is caused by the jacket. I give him a modest nod.

He lifts me up gently and unfastened the jacket. He places me back to my original position.

I know I can’t fall asleep immediately. The pain keeps throbbing in my head.

As I lose track of time, my consciousness dissolves as well…

----

My eyes fly open and I abruptly sit up straight. I feel a bit dazed.

What time is it?

A figure resting at the corner of the room catches my eye. Hanbin?

I take out my watch. Oh, thank goodness my shift hasn’t started yet. Even in my unconsciousness, I’m worried about missing work. I will be placing Jimin into a difficult position if I don’t attend my job as he will have to pull an all-nighter to cover for me because, let’s face it, who else is going to come in for work at 12am? Nobody. So he will have to stay to take over.

I put my hand to my forehead, trying to massage the leftover migraine away.

I notice my items are stacked up nicely on the table. Hanbin must have cleared up the things I threw on the floor while I was asleep. I go over and wave my hands in front his face to check if he is sleeping.

Feeling thankful for his care, I cover him with a blanket to repay his kindness. I’m about to put a pillow between his head and the wall when his eyes snap open.

He stares at me as I awkwardly look back at him. I back away from his face when I realize how uncomfortably close we are.

“I was going to give you a pillow,” I tell him, throwing the pillow into his hands. He catches it.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks, fiddling with the pillow.

“I’m fine. You didn’t have to stay, you know.” I look down guiltily. “You should have left. I always end up fine.”

“I wasn’t sure what to do…” he says, glancing around. “What is this place?”

“A vocal training room.”

He peers questioningly at my ‘bed’.

“And also my makeshift bedroom,” I add casually.

“Do people know about this?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously. “Have you been sneaking in to sleep here?”

Oh. Is that why he stayed? He’s scared that I’m a trespasser who has a specific room to sneak into at night? He wanted to watch me for the sake of the company.

“Oh, yeah, Yang CEO knows about it,” I reply, folding my mattress.

“He does?” I hear him say in disbelief.

“It’s a long story. Look, I have to go to work.” I walk up to him and give him some snacks I found in my bag. “You can do whatever you want.”

He takes the snacks from me, but doesn’t let my hand go. I raise my eyebrow at him.

He stands up, towering over me. Placing his palm on my forehead, he comments, “You have a fever. Your body is warm.”

“It’s probably nothing.” I pick up my bag and prepare to go out. “I need to work.”

“At 11am???” he exclaims after checking his phone. “It’s almost midnight!”

“That’s exactly when work starts.” I head to the elevator and he follows me.

“You’re sick.”

“Um, okay.”

“No, I wasn’t insulting you—” he amends, flustered by his own remark.

“I know.”

“We need to leave separately,” I point out in the elevator. “Because of the fans waiting.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone at this hour,” he says, glancing at his watch.

“Just on the cautious side,” I advised. Though my determination isn’t because of the fans, because he’s right - there aren’t many fans at this time of night. I honestly want to go to work alone without him bothering me. He doesn't need to be bothered about me, in fact.

Right when the elevator door opens, I nod to him, “You can go.”

“Are you sure?” he asks for confirmation.

“Yes.” I nudge him so that he starts on his way.

When he’s out of view, walking completely in the opposite direction of my intended destination, I walk out.

I rub my temples with my fingers. More rest is needed before I can completely recover.

I feel a little nauseous at one point so I pause to take a breather. Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Sigh.

Wait, what? I can hear someone sighing behind me.

It’s Hanbin and he is rubbing his hands together to warm it up. He tests my temperature again with his palm. “It’s heating up…” he comments, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Why are you here?” I ask, exasperated. “Hanbin, you did an amazing job already. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

He appears to be conflicted. He is not sure whether to listen to me or give in to his other instinct that wants to stick around and 'care' for me. I don't understand why he feels obligated to care.

“You know what, whatever. Do what you want,” I tell him, walking away.

----

We both eat ramen together on the counter. He opens the snack I gave him earlier and takes a handful to shove into his mouth.

He glances hesitantly at me.

I know he wants to ask me something but he’s too much of a coward to.

“What?!” I snap, when I catch him taking a glimpse of me.

“Um…” He tries to pretend as if it didn’t happen. He walks down the aisles. “Why are you living in YG?”

“It’s a long story,” I mutter, stirring the hot cocoa I made.

“Is it…because of your parents?” he asks with his back to me. His tone is serious but he faces away, browsing through the tampon section of the store. Oh Hanbin. I chuckle silently, watching him acting as if he isn’t really bothered whether I answer him or not.

“Yes,” I say outright. I surprise him with my honest answer and packets of menstrual pads come tumbling to the floor.

“Crap,” he says, picking it up hurriedly.

After a while, he goes to the other aisle, browsing through women’s shaving creams. His mind is obviously elsewhere. He wouldn’t be browsing these weird sections if he is really paying attention to what’s in front of him. “What happened after they were arrested?”

“Their accounts were frozen. We lost our home. We had no money,” I recall sadly.

“That’s awful,” he replies sombrely. Now he is pulling on some aprons hanging in a corner. “My mum went through that too. She had a hard time working while taking care of Hanbyul.”

“I can imagine,” I empathize.

“I tried to help…a bit,” he mutters in a grim tone. “My allowance isn’t that much.”

“You tried and sometimes…that’s okay.” This conversation reminds me of Jang Hanna.

“I wish I could help her more,” he admits, senselessly flicking through a women’s magazine. His eyes are glazed. He is trying to act cool but it is poorly done. This side of him makes me smile. “I want to help them.”

“I bet she understands how hard you’re trying,” I tell him in an effort to be comforting. The bitterness I feel for Jang Hanna is slowly evaporating as we go along. Maybe Hanna did try. She’s just one year older than me, what else could she have done? Nobody can think so well on their feet. She made bad decisions, but is it her fault? We were thrown into an unexpected situation. Was she supposed to rise up from the ashes like a hero when we’re not even meant to be one?

“Once I debut, I’ll be richer,” I hear him say childishly. “Then I’ll give them everything I never could.”

Admirable. They’re so lucky to have him.

Meanwhile, my future appears uninviting no matter how hard I try. I can’t see past this torture. At least Hanbin can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Mine seems to be blocked by a brick wall.

----

“Wake up,” I shake him awake. I’m already changed into my school uniform. “Hey, come on.”

Hanbin groans, lifting himself up to his feet.

“Where are you going?” he asks, yawning.

“School,” I point out my uniform.

Instinctively, he puts his palm on my forehead. I dodge it.

“My fever is gone now,” I lie, signalling him to leave as soon as the next worker comes in through the door.

“Aren’t you tired?” He stretches himself. “Gosh, I’m exhausted. Man, I better leave. They must be looking for me.” He glances at me, standing awkwardly in front of me.

“I guess I…have to go.” He is unsure how to bid farewell. Yeah, well, farewells are always awkward the first time.

“Yeah, bye,” I say, turning around to catch the bus.

I glance at a reflection on the glass and watch him walk away.

How odd is it that the thought that our lives perhaps aren’t that different after all crosses my mind...

Never in a million years would I be imagining that I'd be saying that about me and Hanbin.