012. we were (in love)
characters: suhyun, ikon & a lot of references to other characters.
genre: "they’re like dr. jekyll and mr. hyde. if ‘love scenario’ is dr. jekyll, then ‘killing me’ would be mr. hyde." - hanbin
word count: 3k ~(this sort of just happened after listening to the genius that is jukgetta)
summary: when one is willing to let go and the other isn't.

We were in love
we met and became a memory that can’t be erased
It was a commendable melodrama
A pretty good ending
that’s all I need
I loved you.

“But how about me…? Because this is killing me.”

“Hey, Suhyun?”

The said girl looks to her right to find her friend, Yeri, tapping away on her MacBook. Apparently, she’s on a mission to whip out a quality three-page essay by tonight or she’s failing classes. Suhyun rolled her eyes upon learning this but has given her friend the support she needs.

Through thick and thin, they have stuck together and Suhyun isn’t abandoning her now. Even if she secretly thinks Yeri had it coming from slacking off at the start of the semester. It was parties and boys and hook-ups and break-ups—and Suhyun has never uttered a word.

She just wishes the girl would indulge her with the same consideration as she says, “I heard about the,” she hesitates and Suhyun is already bracing herself, “uh, you know, the break-up…”

Suhyun highlights Jean Piaget in her psychology textbook and almost rips through the page. She grimaces. This book actually cost her a lot.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Yeri fixes her trendy glasses slipping from her nose, “so, I just wanted to know how you were doing because if you’re feeling down lately, you can always come to me—to talk about it, you know?”

Yeri is a good friend.

Even if she annoys Suhyun a lot because of the little things she does like leaving her clothes all around their apartment and forgetting to turn the straightener off, giving Suhyun mini heart-attacks.

So this? She can understand. This need to be vocal about being there for her, though quite awkwardly, it’s a very Yeri-like thing to say and it is actually quite heart-warming as it is a little cringe.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Really.”

Unexpectedly, a hand lands on her own that’s gripping the highlighter. She turns and Yeri has this imploring look on her face.

“Promise?”

Suhyun feigns a gag. “Girl, you’re going to make me vomit.”

“Lee Suhyun! I’m trying to be a good friend here!”

Yeri’s outburst gathers attention (and some glares) and she has to slap a hand over her friend’s lip-glossed mouth. Ew.

“I get it.” Suhyun wipes her hand on the table and Yeri perks up.

“So you’ll come to the party this Friday?”

“Wait, what?”

“You said you’re fine so come! Let’s celebrate our return to the single’s club!” She cheers, and Suhyun vaguely remembers that Yeri just broke it off with a guy a month ago. Well, .

The eyes on them are back with more glares than before, and Suhyun is one step away from shoving her textbook into her friend’s mouth to shut her up. Also, because she’s about to dig her own grave.

“Yeah, okay, okay. Just—shut up, alright?”

Yeri smiles, painfully bright, and Suhyun tries to use it to assert her decision.

Yeah, no.

She should’ve refused.

Okay, but Yeri is being a darling right now.

She volunteers to lend Suhyun some of her accessories and even offers her favourite lip-gloss, completely forgetting that Suhyun is more of a lip-gradient girl. She’s ecstatic nonetheless because she thinks she’s doing her bestie a favour—helping her get over a broken-heart—but Suhyun is fine.

Really. She is.

In fact, since they arrived, Suhyun’s barely lifting a finger and her friend has already bounced off to get her a bottle of Hite - the only beer that Suhyun tolerates. She’s being suspiciously spoiled. 

But for some reason, everyone seems to be doing the same thing; treading around her carefully as if she’s suddenly made out of glass. Perhaps attending a party so soon, Jung Jaehyun’s party of all people, isn’t helping her case.

“So.” The male across the table draws the syllable out in a way that Suhyun makes inwardly groan. Another carefully tailored conversation. “How are you, Suhyun-ssi?”

She glances at Kim Doyoung with boredom.

“Good. How about you?”

His eyes disappear into polite eyes smiles. “Same old. So, you enjoying the party…?”

He scratches behind his ear and lets the question hang in the air as if he unsure if he should’ve asked that or not.  

“It’s okay?”

A flash of black hair comes between them. On top of Doyoung more like. Suhyun almost feels sorry for him.

“How could you be so insensitive, Doyoung-ah!” Jisoo dramatically scolds. She’s pinching his ear that makes the male whine under her, “of course, Suhyun will say yes!”

Suhyun suspects that Jisoo doesn’t believe her. And that somehow this makes Doyoung ‘insensitive’. She almost scowls.

“It’s okay, Suhyun-ah! Here!” A cold bottle of Hite is pushed into her hands and she’s being ushered out of her seat. “From Yeri. There’s a balcony upstairs if you need a moment.”

Heaving out a sigh, she heeds the older girl’s advice. Not because they’re right but because everyone is annoying her right now. Since the moment she walked through the door, eyes have been trailing her every move.

She’s not in a fragile state of mind. She’s fine.

Why is that hard to believe—?

“Oh, really?”

Out in the balcony, it is cool and quiet, so when she hears a voice she almost jumps. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she spies a figure laying on one of the patio chairs, cigarette in hand. She hadn’t known someone was already in here.

She puts a hand on her chest. “God, you scared me. What the heck, Jinhwan.”

“Long time no see, Suhyun.” He flicks his stick on ashtray before shooting her a smile. “So, just then. You’re not in a fragile state of mind, did you say?”

Apparently, she had been muttering to herself or something. She sighs, for what must’ve been the hundredth time this evening, and nods.

“I’m fine.” She moves to join him the other empty seat. Her beer makes a clang when she sets it down on the glass table. “But everyone seems to think otherwise. I don’t get it.”

Jinhwan hums. “Can you blame them though? It was two years going into three. It’s pretty shocking.”

“So what?” Her voice comes out a little too forced for her liking. “Isn’t this what life is all about? Nothing lasts forever.”

Jinhwan surprisingly stays quiet at that and it makes the weight of her words feel heavier than it should have. Huffing at her own carelessness, Suhyun uses that time to feel the guilt. Now, she just ruined his smoke break.  

And Jinhwan is a friend of his. What did you expect?

“I should get going,” she suddenly announces, not even bothering to take her neglected bottle of beer.

She has been feeling fine until this talk. She’ll never blame Jinhwan though. He has always been the voice of reason and this time, it’s no different. He justified the other’s reactions quite well.

Still, it didn’t mean she had to tolerate it.   

“Suhyun-ah,” he calls out just before she crosses the threshold. “How have you been, really?”

His tone isn’t the same cautious tone everyone has been using. It’s pretty normal, though a whole lot curious, but she doesn’t mind. It helps her answer with ease, knowing someone will finally take her answer for what it really is.

She hasn’t been lying.

“I’m doing well.”

With that, she resumes her journey back inside. What she missed though was Jinhwan’s response, drowned out by the honking cars outside.

He sighs. “I wish I could say the same for him.”

It’s not because Suhyun has a heart of stone.

The thing is she already cried all the tears out, already wasted enough days moping about until she was sick of lying in her puddle of self-pity. What everyone seems to forget is that Suhyun is an optimist.

Everything, including this, is just a passing storm to her and she is more than determined to see this through.

And it’s not as if she doesn’t feel the pain anymore because she does.

Whenever she still finds a shirt of his among her clothes, she feels this horrendous stab in her chest, and whenever Hayi mentions his group of friends to her, it leads her back to memories of him and it’s like she’s