Crumbling pavement gave way to a landscape of broken elements, ground up and smashed into a fine sand. The ocean pulsed gently with waves both reaching for and running from Byulyi as she parked. With a click of her keys the car was left silent and without the heater running to keep Byulyi warm the windows quickly fogged over, keeping the outside world away from the trembling woman inside. 

It had been a long day.

One of those days where nothing felt right. It felt as though the air was angry at Moonbyul for taking up space where it could have been instead. Not that it was even Byulyi's fault she was occupying that space, but the air was agitated anyways. Dark clouds shielded the innocent moon from the lone girl as she made her way down the pier. Each creak of the dilapitated boards sent waves of protest into columns holding up the walkway. It was an unstable place, but at the same time the most stable place in Byulyi's life at the moment. She reached the end of the pier and sat down, feet dangling off the edge. Once she finally stopped moving she realized how much her body hated itself in that moment. Her feet were sore and her shoulders wanted nothing more than to relax themselves in the cold ocean below. Normally serene eyes were red with a burning liquid while stung from a different burning liquid that she now regretted drinking. Her mind and her heart were racing so rapidly while her numb fingers struggled to function at all. 

A cellphone awoke to find itself alone in a car parked in the sand. Notifications filled its face and Byulyi was none the wiser. 

Byulyi cast her eyes out across the ocean, watching it swell and recede. Her body no longer felt anything and the frigid air was strangely comforting. Most people would have called her crazy. But it was nice to not feel anything for once, to just exist in the world without thinking about it. The emptiness felt liberating, a far cry from the harsh automation of the city and the uncaring gazes of people with their own lives to live. Shivers made their way through Byulyi but she made no attempt to ward them off. She let them travel from the base of her spine up and through her head, relishing the absence of others. She hadn't been alone in a while, or at least not truly alone. Normally she would have loved to sit for hours and watch the moon, but this time she was glad it was hidden. The lack of light made everything blend together more, made everything one seamless landscape. Something about the monotonous color was soothing for Byulyi. Life was hectic for her, filled with failed attempts at pleasing everyone around her. Disappointment was ever present and none of it ever came from anyone she cared about. She never said she cared about herself though. 

A soft sigh flowed from her frail body, accompanied by a cloud of steam. Soon she'd have to go back home and face everyone, a moment she very much dreaded. If there was only more hours in a day she'd be able to enjoy herself for longer. She'd be able to get everything done and make everyone happy. But the days were too short and the nights nonexistant, her spare time reduced to her commutes and sitting on the pier at ungodly hours. It didn't matter to Byulyi though. No matter how rough things got or how many mistakes she made she'd finish everything she commited to. It didn't matter if Yongsun's birthday party was right after a 10 hour shift, or if Hyejin woke her up middle of the night calling and asking to be picked up, or even if Wheein texted and asked her to do a last minute project for her. She'd do anything for anyone if it made them happy.

Except for herself. She could wait a little longer for happiness. She'd promised herself a long time ago not to disappoint anyone and that promise had been broken a long time ago too. So she made a new promise. A promise to make everyone as happy as she could, no matter what they asked for or when or why. At first it was much too difficult to accomplish, balancing herself and others, so she amended her promise ever so slightly. She wouldn't try to please absolutely everyone anymore.

She was her own exception.