Day 370

Chuseok was yesterday. It was so solemn. Even more serious than that very dull brown hanbok Key wore at his family gathering. At least he got to even be with his family on Chuseok. For the past three years he had work and couldn’t even go home to Daegu. But Chuseok wasn’t exactly a joyous occasion this year for this particular family.

 

Key was a little tender and sensitive on that day. All of them were. It was painfully silent. When he got back to Seoul the next day, he seriously wanted to just get away from all the concerned and analytical eyes. After a year, they had really started to thin out, but for the past week the looks had altogether renewed and he just couldn’t escape them.

 

He’d already had a beer at the dorm, alone in his room, away from the members who were being conspicuously “considerate” of him. It felt like a box closing in on him. Thankfully he had a contact who didn’t know his issues. As he raised the phone to his ear, he recalled that she hadn’t really been available the last few times he called her out. More like she said she flat out wasn’t up to it. He didn’t know if something was going on, but he was suffocating so much right then he felt it was worth one more try.

 

“Kibum?”

 

“Noona, do you want to meet for a drink?”

 

“That depends. Are you in a pot-smashing mood?” she retorted.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“Just answer the question.”

 

“Well now that you mention it, I am,” he replied as he finished off the beer.

 

There was a sigh on the end, but her tone in the sentence that followed was upbeat. “I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes, okay?”

 

Hyerin arrived one minute early, just early enough to wait for Key who was always late by a few minutes. It was always like that. She was punctual, and he always thought he was on time but inevitably got delayed every time. This time it was because he couldn’t choose which black leather coat to wear. He had somehow received five for his birthday this year. But she waited patiently nonetheless.

They went to a restaurant with a bar this time and actually had a meal. Hyerin alternated between looking like she was forced to come out and appearing to be enjoying Key’s company — the latter mostly when Key was looking. But he, on the other hand, was relived to be out and completely oblivious to her mood. The last week was pretty gloomy and he couldn’t see past his own self pity. Hyerin knew it. That’s why she agreed to come out. But he had no clue. He always had no clue. About anything.

 

“How’s that matchmaker problem with your parents going?” he asked casually after stuffing in a mouthful of pasta.

 

Hyerin had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “It’s the same. I’m thinking about making some changes and maybe that will help a little.”

 

“Like what kind of changes?”

 

“Nevermind that. How was your day?”

 

“It was mostly good, I just couldn’t appreciate it.” He sipped his beer casually. Hyerin’s skin almost crawled at the way he repeated her own words, but he had no idea what she specifically meant when she originally said them. “It’s nice to be out of the dorm, though. I’m feeling a little better now.”

 

“Glad I could help.” Hyerin looked like she didn’t want to be there, but she was going to stay until Key decided to go. She was there for him, after all.

 

They finished dinner and after Key got a little silly on beer they went to their favorite alley. Key was happy to start the smashing ceremony.

 

“This one is for an awkward Chuseok with my family, especially after not seeing them for three months,” he announced as he tossed down a cracked flower pot. “And this is for a birthday that was blander than plain rice cakes.” He smashed another on the floor in quick succession. But he hesitated as he raised the next one above his head. “This is for… this is for the Happy New Year that hasn’t happened yet.” His voice sounded especially burdened at the end.

 

Hyerin stood a few feet away by the pile of cracked pots. She especially empathized with that last statement. “Amen to that.” She threw down the pot in her hands. It was the only one she destroyed that night. She wanted to keep her problems to herself.

 

Key, on the other hand had a lot to smash that night. He never really explained why, but that is the way it always was. He never wanted to share the reasons behind his sadness with Hyerin because he just wanted her unbiased company.

 

Day 400

Key entered the elevator at the SM Building to discover a familiar face in a familiar red coat.

 

“Long time, no see,” he remarked, standing beside her. “I’ve been here everyday for the past week, but I haven’t seen you around.”

 

“I didn’t know you were looking for me.”

 

“I never miss that red coat. It’s Chanel, isn’t it?”

 

“Indeed. It was a freebie handed to me by one of the coordinators,” Hyerin sighed heavily. She apparently didn’t like his response to her statement, but she answered him with civility nonetheless. “Anyway, I’ve been busy training my replacement, so I don’t move around the building near as much as I usually do.”

 

“Replacement? Where are you going?”

 

“To Hyunjae’s telecommunications company. We’ve been dating for three weeks now.” 

 

Key felt like he had been ambushed from both sides by the shocking news. “Well, it’s bad news that you are leaving, noona. But I’m glad you found someone you like.”

 

“He’s amazing, but I don’t like him,” Hyerin corrected him, voice sounding impossibly neutral considering all the implications behind it. At that moment the doors rolled open at the 15th floor and she moved to step off.

 

“Noona, wait.” Key reached out for her hand to catch her before she disappeared. She remained  and the doors closed, leaving them in a private place to speak for bit. At least until someone else might call the elevator. 

 

Key hurried to talk. “Noona, I’m concerned. I’m afraid you’ll be unhappy if you continue this way dating someone you don’t like.”

 

She sighed again, her profound burdens showing through. “I’ve been unhappy for quite some time, Kibum. So I’ve decided to throw away those old hopes and just start a new path. At least my parents will finally get off my case.”

 

Key was saddened by her response. He had never seen her so pessimistic before. It took so much courage and honesty to be her, and he had admired that. But now she had given up the fight and she seemed like an entirely different person. It felt all wrong.

 

Hyerin felt his eyes drilling into her, disappointed at the news. It was a painful moment. She just wanted to get away, but she knew that nothing was waiting for her elsewhere, so what was the point? The future held no promise at all.

 

“I feel like I should intervene.” He pouted, almost like a child.

 

“What could you even do Kibum? Making the decision was hard enough. Don’t make things harder for me, please.”

 

He only pouted more. He didn’t like how things were turning out for her, but he honestly didn’t know what to do. “I don’t want to send you away like this, but if you think it’s the right thing for you, I’ll support you.”

 

He was showing that he cared about her genuinely, but they were the last words she wanted to hear from him. Hyerin’s composure was cracking again, just like all those terracotta pots behind the plant store. But this time Key could see it clearly. Despite all the energy she was spending on not falling apart in front of him, a tear welled up in her eye and spilled over onto her cheek. Key spotted it immediately.

 

“Noona, you look like you need a hug.” He moved to offer her a comforting embrace but she suddenly reacted so adversely to it. She held up her hands to keep him away and took a step back.

 

“No Kibum. No more pitying me. And definitely no hugs. In fact, after my final week is over here at the company, we won’t see each other again.” Her voice was pained, like that of someone who was already crying on the inside.

 

“I don’t understand. We’re friends. We can still hang out when you’re not at work.” Key was so puzzled by her reaction. He was confused why she kept pushing him away when he was trying to express his friendly concern for her.

 

“Oh God, you just don’t get it.” She was incredibly sad, but angry at the same time. Furious that he was so dense. Upset that she had some form of concern from him but that it was so unsubstantial. Inside it felt like her last three years of frustration and inner turmoil were rising to the top, about to overflow. It was physically painful to hold it back. And since this was probably the last time she would see him… It’s this o’clock. 

 

“You’re an idiot, Kibum,” she asserted. “This is all because of you. From the beginning it has been the same but you can’t even tell. You seriously have no clue.”

 

That was the exact expression on his face: He didn’t have a clue why she was having this tearful outburst in front of him.

 

“The coffee that I shared with you in this elevator — they didn’t make it wrong. I bought it. Your favorite: Americano. I knew you’d be gloomy and I guessed that you’d skip breakfast, so I carried it around until you came in and I offered it to you. Scones in the conference room — that was me too.”

 

“Noona?”

 

“And you getting drunk at the bar after the play — I figured you would need a friend or a babysitter that night so I stayed close by. And guess what? I was right. And when you worked and drank so late that you forgot to properly mourn on the 100th day, then you were mad at yourself. So I showed you my secret place where you could vent your frustration.” The tears were coming out in streams now.

 

“This whole time you knew? And—”

 

“And day 200 when you got too distracted to grieve beside your family. And then right after your birthday, right after the 1-year anniversary, when your feelings were raw again. When you were disappointed after spending a quiet birthday, sad after a Chuseok with one family member missing, I was there. You called me out and I didn’t want to go but I did! I did because… Because… I’m such an idiot. I let myself be the friend that you use to get away from your grief. The friend that you forget and then you only call in those moments where you can’t bear it again. You didn’t even ask my name until after we met several times. And I keep coming. I keep letting myself be an idiot… because… no matter what I want…only you matter. I’m never going to be able to stop caring about you. Dammit. It’s always going to be you… and I can’t live like this anymore.” Hyerin could hardly breathe after erupting like that. And her anger was transitioning into despair. Her words were so heavily weighted with regret.

 

Key couldn’t even move his mouth to form a word. He had so much to say. He wanted to apologize, to question, to comfort, but what could he possibly say? He had no idea how to convey how much he wanted her to stop hurting. 

 

But she didn’t want to wait for him to figure out how to express his thoughts. Who knows how long that would take? Nevertheless, Hyerin had said all that she needed to say and now was as good a time as ever to move on. She jammed the button to open the elevator doors and began to walk out.

 

That’s when Key panicked. He couldn’t let her go just like that, not after she bore everything to him and was about to leave — probably forever. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around her in a back hug, just trying to convey that he cared even though he couldn’t say anything.

 

He felt her gasp and freeze at his touch. Suddenly she was rigid all over. Key really wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing.

 

When he heard her start to sob softly, he still wasn’t sure. She gave in and leaned back against him for a moment, trying to gather some strength while she was falling apart. He could see the tears streaming and soaking into her beautiful red coat. But was this good or bad? Regardless, he held on.

 

She lingered in his arms for a least a whole minute, just crying quietly. Finally the sobs faded and she wriggled until he finally released her. She turned and her glassy eyes met his deeply concerned ones.

 

“Kibum,” she said solemnly, “a thousand flower pots cannot ease the burden you just gave to me.”

 

Apparently hugging her was the wrong choice. Damn.

 

“You are late for your meeting on the 20th floor now. I’m sorry for holding you up,” she choked out. With a swift move, she opened the elevator doors again, and quickly jammed the button for the 20th floor before she exited. Key was left to ride those last five floors alone, reflecting on all that had transpired.

 

God dammit.