{ t h r e e }

What did he do to you?

[ Yoon Jeonghan ]

The first thing I recognize as I flutter one eye open that morning is a white coffee table that is filled with random things such as piles of papers I call my report, a TV remote, headphones, snacks I brought last night that I haven’t eaten yet, and my flickering phone.

That isn’t my normal morning sight, of course, and when I try to push my body to a sitting position, the numb feeling I get around my neck and shoulders proved sleeping on the sofa isn’t something to be done again.

I groggily make my way to the sink, stumbling a few times in the process.

Once I reached says sink that couldn’t be placed anymore further, I splash cool water to my face repeatedly. It makes me feel slightly better and it helps me get rid of the drowsiness as my mind recalls events from the night before. Like, maybe, an event that could be the answer to why the hell I woke up on the sofa? Why not in Seungcheol’s room instead? That place is more decent and extremely comfortable. Not to mention it’s filled with Seungcheol’s intoxicating smell— 

Okay, maybe I should sleep more. I must be sick, if not mad.

Well, okay, maybe I am sick; love sick and of course, I am mad; madly in love with that jerk.

‘God, please, slap me,’ I groan as I enter the bathroom then begin to furiously do my morning bath. It is when I submerge myself in the bathtub do I remember last night events clearly. From how I pathetically got home, received a call from Mingyu and unconsciously agreed to go with him today, and accidently fell asleep after watching a cheesy soap opera—

Wait, Mingyu said ‘ten’, didn’t he? And from a quick glance I give the digital clock on the sink, I know I have like thirty minutes only to prepare myself so I could look more decent, not exactly wrapped in towels, on my friendly date with the guy who had a crush on me years ago and is now dating my close friend. Perfect. Even more perfect when I stand still in front of my wardrobe, not knowing what to wear.

It isn’t like I have nothing. In fact, I have another wardrobe filled with something to replace the accusing towels. It is just, how should I dress? Casually? Or like how I usually do when I am about to go jogging somewhere? No, not jogging when he clearly stated ‘date’ even in a playful manner. And that he is Kim freaking Mingyu, the very person I have a complicated relationship with, of all people. Maybe a date with Seokmin wouldn’t make me this screwed.

‘How about with Seungcheol?’

Really, stupid me? A date with your best friend who you have a crush on, but since said crush is one-sided because he apparently has a boyfriend at the moment, the damned date would only make you even more pathetic? Really?

Between him and Mingyu, if they don’t share the same , then I could say Seungcheol is even worse.

On second thought, the relationship thingy isn’t really what I pay my attention to at times like this. Instead, Mingyu’s behavior is something that made me curious in the first place.

Years have passed, yet he never once offered me to go somewhere together like this, even before he told me his feelings. Like I what I have stated before, we aren’t so close if you don’t count our interactions via phone. Sure we sometimes bumped into each other and went for small walks, but this is new. My mind could recall clearly how he sounded so hesitant when he asked me to go. I knew who Mingyu is. He is distinct, not blur. Even if time could change everything effortlessly, that is still bothering me; how he pushed himself that far. I have to know why. And this date—hang out session? Go buy something great for Yoorin-noona’s party quest?—is the only way I could use to grab the answer.

I am fully aware I shouldn’t have been this screwed up. ‘This would go just like when you guys hang out together, right?’ Some people might say that, but no. Mingyu is always careful with his words ever since he confessed to me. That means I could easily tell when he is joking. He didn’t deny what I said even if he knew I was teasing him is another thing that bothered me.

Thus, a date is a date. Friendly, platonically, romantically—whatever he calls this one, I couldn’t help myself but think it is still a date.  

I put on my tight black jeans before my hands take a grip on a plain sweat shirt, pairing it with a simple two-toned dark coat. It doesn’t take me long to put on my white sneakers and do my hair—I simply let it down—so, I have like ten minutes left or so before Mingyu comes.  

For the remaining time, I decide it is best for me to sit down a bit and chill. Making breakfast would cost a lot of time so I would just go buy it on our way. That is why I flop down again on the same sofa from last night and that is when my eyes caught something flickering in silence.

It is my phone. I quickly take the device, unlocking it and check my notifications which clearly state I have like twenty missed calls from last night until just ten minutes ago. Not only that, I also got five messages and a voice mail. All of them comes from one contact that belongs to my oh-so-beloved sister.

I choose the option to open each messages first. They are sent around eleven. I don’t know for sure, but maybe I have fallen asleep at that time already.

[Hannie! Why don’t you answer my calls?]

‘Uh, maybe because they didn’t reach my dream land?’

[Are you ignoring me? :( I know you never fall asleep this early!]

‘Nah, you don’t know me well enough then.’

[Come on, baby brother. I’ll explain everything!]

And the next messages contain almost the same thing; her telling me to answer the calls and her thinking she is being ignored by me. The last message even telling me she would call me again in the morning. It almost makes me feel sorry for her. Yes, almost, because even if I didn’t fall asleep early last night, I would still ignore her. She deserves it for being a bad, stupid, lovely, but still stupid sister. I mean, how could she not tell me she had come back, but is able to tell Mingyu? Him, of all people on earth, again.

I open the voice mail. It starts with a buzzing sound and people talking nosily in the background. It is kind of making me a bit dizzy by hearing it, but then there is silence. Not too long, just enough to make me frown and then, there is a sigh, a tired one, before an all too familiar voice greets me.

“Hi, Hannie. Miss me?” Yoorin asks. Her voice clear and soft, just like always, just like how she used to talk to me when we aren’t separated by age and work. The wave of feelings she puts into those words slap me across the face to let me realize I miss her a lot and that being said make me even more convinced I am so mad at her.

Then, there is a forced laugh. The one she always uses whenever she feels anxious about something. The laugh directed to herself instead of whoever she talks to, in hope it could make said feeling go away, but instead, it only makes me and everyone else who know her good enough, feel even more worried. I never love this part of her.

“Oh yes, right. You’re mad at me right now, right? Listen, baby brother, I’m so sorry I forgot to call you first after I arrived back here in Seoul. I actually didn’t expect to come back this year. So, this is a surprise for me too. Jun—remember him? My manager?—changed my schedule so I could visit you and everyone. But I am here not for some day off. I still have work to do. A lot.”

She pauses. Not so long, but enough to make her words drown me ever so slowly. When she talks again, her voice wobbles. “When I accompanied Dad on one of his meetings yesterday, he had reminded me to inform you about my arrival. Even Mingyu too. You know, he came to meet Dad, so don’t think I remember to call him first, not you. But well, all the work I had to do made me forget.” She sighs loudly before continuing. I couldn’t tell she is simply tired or indirectly wanting to let me know her forgetting me is something she truly regretted. “I am very much aware this explanation will only make you angrier, thinking I choose my work first before you, but I’ve no other excuse. So, again, I’m truly sorry.”

I bite my bottom lip as another pause takes place. It is like Yoorin herself doesn’t know how to word her feelings and thoughts. She might not have expected this, but the way she said all of the explanation is enough to make me understand everything. True though, that explanation doesn’t make me calm down. Instead, it makes me realize how much I want her to stop chasing her dream, how much I want her to just stay with me; it makes me realize how much of a selfish person I truly am.

Thus, I couldn’t accept her apology.

Maybe this is how Seungcheol feels too? I am so infatuated by him, wanting him for me only, all the time. I never let him close to anyone. I am so selfish that it makes him sick? He wanted to leave me, but couldn’t, so the only option left is for him to play pretend like everything is the same when we are together only? Then when everyone is around, there he would act like the way he wanted; like he didn’t know me?

Is that the truth? ‘If so, it’s okay for me to cry, right?’

It is Yoorin’s sincere voice that snaps me away from the thought of hurting myself.

“To make it up to you, I’ll come to your apartment after I finish my photoshoot session in… a few hours.” Then I could hear someone calling her name from afar. “Wait for me, okay? I love you.”

The mail just ends like that. It leaves me staring at my phone screen unblinking, like half of me still wanting the mail to just keep playing. I didn’t accept the fact that it ended.

‘I love you,’ she said with the softest voice I’ve ever heard.

Yoorin is a perfect liar. Whatever she says, if she wants to be believed in, everyone could easily be fooled, thinking every word she utters are the truth. Even I, from long time ago when I still knew her very well, wasn’t immune to that. How about now when I could barely face her?

I hope it is empty words, but no, it isn’t. Something inside my head is screaming, telling me to believe. It is foolish of me to listen to whatever that is, but I couldn’t help myself. Also, that fact alone is enough to stop me from telling her to keep her existence away from my apartment for her remaining life time and an ‘I hate you’.

Another thing that stops me is a knock. Then another knock. Then more. The repetitive sound has me frozen for quite some time until it becomes louder and louder as if whoever is standing in front of the front door of my apartment is ready to barge in if they have to wait any longer. I kick myself up at that point and practically skip a step to unlock the door.

I am frozen again right at the very second my eyes land on a figure of a young man, standing mightily with his inhuman attractiveness a foot in front of my face. My mouth is slightly agape, my eyes unblinking. Thank goodness I don’t forget how to breathe, nor do I forget to remember the name of the latter.

It is Kim Mingyu, or Mingyu, or Gyu, or someone whom I rejected years ago, now having a complicated relationship with