It's raining.

Byulyi hears the sound of thunder cracking the sky, drowning the soft clicking of keys as she unlocks the door to her apartment. The interior is dark and barely lit by the warped light shining through her window, distorted by the rain pelting against the glass panes. Plastic rustles as she fumbles with the bags of takeout she has in her hands, pushing the door shut with the tip of her shoe and locking it.

Her fingers skim along the wall, feeling for the familiar light switch and flicking it on with her index finger. It takes a couple of seconds before the lights turn on, bathing the living room of her apartment in orange light. Sighing quietly, Byulyi pulls the converse sneakers off her feet and places them on top of her waist-high shoe cupboard.

Home sweet home, finally.

The apartment is pretty small - barely five hundred square feet. It's the kitchen right on the left of the main door, the living room in front of it, and the bedroom and bathroom to the left of the kitchen. The furniture, hand-picked and arranged by Byulyi, give off the same rustic, yet oddly cozy feel that her office studio does. For a complete klutz, her house is pretty neat.

Byulyi drops her bag onto her couch and places her dinner on the coffee table, ignoring the rumbling in her stomach in exchange for a quick bath. Once she's clean and smelling of her new lavender soap she stands in front of her wardrobe in her underwear, sifting through piles of clothes with her towel wrapped around herself. Her entire wardrobe basically consists of button downs, pants, sweaters and stuff from the men's section at Cotton On - almost all of which have at least one paint or marker stain on them, except a couple of the fancier clothing items.

After a couple of seconds she puts on a loose white tank top and some old grey sweatpants, draping her towel around her shoulders and settling in front of the coffee table.

She opens the laptop lying beside her food and unlocks it, clicking on one of the many open tabs and unpausing the episode of the Korean drama she'd been watching - Please Come Back Mister.

I think I'll just watch an episode or two before I finish up some administration stuff, if not I'll probably marathon this until tomorrow morning. This drama is too much for my gay heart.

Byulyi unwraps her six-inch Subway sandwich and takes a bite, her eyes glued to the screen. The volume's turned up to its loudest in order for the actors’ voices to be heard over the deafening thunder and the sound of water smashing into glass.

She watches her drama for about an hour and a half, before clicking away from the tab and expanding her word document with all her clients’ information on it. She gnaws on her lower lip as she scrolls up and  down the document, her eyes scanning the page intently.

Mm…Songhee’s last session with me is on Friday. I'll get her a little something. Byulyi smiles as she reads the information off the screen. Then it's just the regulars. Mm.

Thunder rumbles outside, and the rain seems to fall harder. Byulyi glances at the window. The dark sky is completely marred and distorted by the rivulets of water running down the glass, the yellows and whites of the light from other apartment blocks opposite hers blending into a weirdly discoloured painting.

Been raining a lot lately. I should remember to bring my umbrella when I go out, I don't want to get caught in the rain again.

Byulyi shivers just thinking about it. She'd been on her way home from her office three days ago when it began to rain like crazy, and she'd gotten soaked all the way down to her stripy socks and was completely cold. She'd immediately taken a shower, imbibed a cup of hot black coffee despite the late hour and cuddled with two hot packs.

Her finger pauses and hovers over her laptop’s touchpad. On her screen in size fourteen arial font are the words ‘Kim Solar’, along with bullet-pointed sentences underneath. The corners of her lips quirk up a little.

Over the past few weeks, Solar and Byulyi had grown closer. Of course they still maintained the psychologist - client distance; Byulyi knows where to draw the line between work and friendship. But Solar learned to open up a little, finding ease in confiding in Byulyi, who's an excellent listener.

But the smile dims. She's genuinely glad that Solar is beginning to have some improvements and is finally a little happier, but a certain creepy yellow-eyed person edges into her mind - or, rather, the lack of said yellow-eyed person.

Yongsun hasn't appeared at all since that last time when she said she's looking forward to talking to me again. It's been…what, a month? Gods above, when she's here I want her gone, but when she isn't I get scared. What does she want?

A frown touches Byulyi’s brows and she quickly scrolls past Solar's page. Then she stops.

I've been doing that a lot lately. Especially when I think about Solar. Yongsun seems to be like some sort of glue I can't peel off. I'm just freaking myself out. But what if she's - wait, wait, you're doing it again. She slaps her forehead and closes her laptop, the glow from the screen dying as it snaps shut. Maybe Yongsun's just gone and given up. Hah, yeah right.

Byulyi stares dully at the little nicks in her wooden tabletop. Just thinking about Yongsun makes her feel a little queasy. She wonders how someone like Solar could have enough evil in her to have formed such a demon. One of Solar's rare genuine smiles - a few of which Byulyi had the blessed privilege of being on the receiving end of - is concrete proof that this girl is just one of the most beautiful people Byulyi has ever met.

WHOA, okay, slow down on the gay stuff here, Byul. Let's keep the gayness to your kdramas and fictitious characters like Han Hongnan. Yeah. Think of Hongnan. Your fictitious gentlewoman role model.

Byulyi slumps over her table, pressing a palm to her face and groaning. She totally isn't making anything better by fangirling over Solar's pretty dimple smiles, but damn, her client has a cute smile. I don't like her in a romantic way or anything. Jaehyuk can shower her with all the love she needs. But dang, everyone has to agree she's pretty right?

Okay, stop. You're getting distracted.

She shakes her head and gives herself a couple of light slaps on the cheek, then stretches a little and drags her bag closer to her. It isn't a handbag but a cross between a satchel and a man purse, purely because Byulyi needs something more practical to carry papers and her laptop around. She pulls out a stack of documents for taxes and monthly expenditure and payment and whatever.

A ballpoint pen is selected from a stationary cup at the corner of the table, and she spends the next half an hour armed with her phone calculator, the only sounds besides the rain and thunder being the scratching of her pen on paper.

Her eyes swim with numbers when she's done, as it always does when she's tabulating the accounts. She punches holes in the papers and slots them into a huge blue ring file, snapping the metal clasps shut. She sits up straight and grimaces, feeling the muscles in her back stretch as they relax.

Gods, I still hate having to deal with all this money stuff. Byulyi grumbles in her mind. Despite her profits, numbers just don't sit too well with her.

Then her phone chimes. She s a hand out and feels around inside her man purse satchel, locating the Samsung phone buried under a notebook and some tissue paper. She flips it the right way up and presses the power button, her eyebrows barely tilting up when she sees ‘1 New Message’ and the name Kim Solar underneath.

She taps her passcode out and expands the message, moving to sit more comfortably on the couch.

From: Kim Solar

I just had a horrible day at work, you should hug me a

And that’s it. Byulyi’s eyes bug out for a second - that isn't something Solar would send-

From: Kim Solar

Wait, I meant to type buy* me a mocha. Whoops. My finger slipped

Byulyi snorts. That sounds a lot more like Solar. The two may have grown more comfortable around each other - at least enough for Solar to text her for such random stuff - but for Solar to act affectionate to anyone besides Jaehyuk? Haha, no.

To: Kim Solar

Well, I'll be seeing you tomorrow anyway, maybe I'll try making a cup of mocha for you.

The formal tone doesn't quite leave that easily. True, Solar feels more comfortable, true, Solar's feeling a little less emo, but Byulyi just doesn't feel all that chummy with anyone. That's probably why she's completely antisocial and prefers staring at faces on a canvas than actual faces.

The reply comes a few seconds later. Byulyi glances at her phone.

From: Kim Solar

Really? You should try.

From: Kim Solar

Oh, and Jaehyuk says hi :)

Byulyi’s fingers pause over the screen as she thinks of how to reply. She can't put her finger on the sudden twist in her gut. Gods, I'm so awkward. I can't even text someone without feeling like I'm speaking to the president. She taps out a reply.

To: Kim Solar

I'll Google. Make sure to get some rest. Tell Jaehyuk I said hi as well. Good night and see you tomorrow, Solar. :)

The phone is promptly placed in silent mode, and Byulyi takes her laptop from the coffee table before retreating to her room, turning the lights in her living room off. Byulyi’s small room is taken up by her wardrobe, queen-sized bed, and a desk and chair - bare necessities. She settles comfortably on her bed and fires up her laptop again, quickly closing the word document and opening her kdrama tab.

Okay, nothing more about work until I either fall asleep or finish marathoning this drama. Byulyi thinks firmly. Ten thirty is a criminally early time to go to bed.

-

Byulyi ended up marathoning the whole drama until three am, crying so much that she used up at least five pieces of kleenex, and going to sleep with swollen red eyes. She'd slept after brushing her teeth and stumbling thrice on the way to and from the bathroom.

Needless to say, Byulyi kind of feels like crap when she wakes up at eleven on Saturday, her eyes all swollen and rheumy looking. She gets the absolute fright of her life when she sees herself in her bathroom mirror, her hair all over the place and her eyes looking like they're barely opening.

Please log in to read the full chapter