XIII. What’s Left Unsaid

 

For the next three days, everything is as it should be. Normal bickering and usual teasing dance in the air around their lunch table as Seulgi acts as Seulgi should. Grinning and laughing at the cues written on their faces and the expectancy in their eyes. But every moment or so, she staggers. Attention fleeting to her phone in her pocket. To the so far twenty unread messages pleading for an answer.

 

And for a split second, she considers it.

 

A simple sentence. Something short and brief, perhaps.

 

But she shouldn’t.

 

No.

 

After all, what’s the point?

 

Everything was said and done.

 

In the walls of her mind, these words are scrawled. Both truth and lie. She shakes her head, ignoring the notification of a newly sent message.

 

Twenty-one and counting.

 

Seulgi looks up, returning to the conversation at hand, chuckling along to a joke she manages to pick up on. And beside her, Irene gazes at her warily--too attentively for her liking.

 

So the hearthrob simply smiles, dispelling suspicion.

 

Or so she thinks.

 

--

 

“So you want to tell me now what’s really up with you?” Joy asks, posing the same question she’s asked numerous times over the past few days. Ever since she had an inkling of a feeling that something--the smallest thing--was off. She had a knack for it--knowing these things.

 

Seulgi shuts her locker, lips still sealed.

 

“You can lie to Irene, say whatever it is you want to her and everyone else to believe, but I know that this,” the cheerleader points at her up and down, “isn’t just from losing one race.”

 

Sometimes, more often in these sort of circumstances, Seulgi wishes Joy didn’t know so much. All the concern and inquiry never made it easier.

 

“What are you talking about?” the heartthrob replies as casually as ever, feigning ignorance. With no desire to wait for a rebuttal, she begins to walk away but just three steps past Joy, the girl grabs her wrist, halting her.

 

An exasperated sigh breaks through, falling from her lips. And Seulgi turns to look at her, eyes soon trailing off to a nearby corner, “Joy, It’s nothing,” she insists. “I’m over it now so it doesn’t matter.”

 

But those words are dead and tired to Joy’s ears.

 

“Do you know how many times you’ve said that to me? I’ll tell you, at least a hundred times,” she says with her stare unyielding, fixated and reaching, trying to burrow through. “And not once have I ever believed you.”

 

The halls start to empty. Classroom doors shut as lessons begin within the minute. And neither of them move or blink as a familiar silence befalls them.

 

What follows is routine.

 

“Guess I need to be more convincing then,” the heartthrob smiles.

 

Joy’s grip loosens. Her hand barely holding until finally it falls to her side. The lingering touch of her fingers, a trailing warmth, remains on Seulgi’s skin.

 

For a moment, the heartthrob bites the inside of her cheek.

 

“Why are you so difficult sometimes?” Joy asks.

 

And it’s a question Seulgi’s never been able to answer as her voice has always failed her. Perhaps due to lack of honesty? Or was it uncertainty? Fear?

 

Numerous reasons too hard to pinpoint.

 

“I’m sorry but really, don’t worry about me so much.”

 

Immediately, Joy shakes her head.

 

“Easier said than done.”

 

And the cheerleader is the first to leave. Her footsteps echo down the hall, growing distant until Seulgi is the only one who remains, standing in the midst of empty quiet.

 

//

 

Her fingers work at the keyboard. The soft click-clacking seemingly endless as the words flow constantly--robotically--as she stares at the computer screen. And the wrinkles between her eyebrows deepen as her mind begins to runaway, returning to thoughts she’d rather not dwell on. Thoughts she had been trying to push away but certainly to no avail.

 

She just can’t understand it.

 

Why?

 

“Wendy! Earth to Wendy! Hello?”

 

Beside her, Yeri’s grabbed her by the shoulders, roughly shaking her for attention until finally the Vice President blinks to look at her, slightly dazed.

 

“Wow,” Yeri utters in surprise, “You’re really out of it today, huh?”

 

Immediately, Wendy’s lips part to argue but she thinks back to earlier in the day when she sat in class barely retaining anything from the morning lectures. Or when she failed to log what was discussed during the Student Council meeting, requesting Yeri for assistance with a recap.

 

Both so very uncharacteristic of her.

 

Slowly, Wendy’s mouth shuts, unable to deny the Treasurer’s observation.

 

If only she hadn’t seen what she saw--that page in the notebook. Given the contents, it obviously wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone else. And now, it’s a needless distraction poking at her unrelentingly. Because her curiosity and disbelief just can’t let it go, no matter how hard she tries to push it away--how hard she tries not to care.

 

Why didn’t she tell me?

 

“Yeri,” Wendy says, debating whether to continue her sentence or not, “can I ask for your opinion?”

 

The younger’s ears seem to perk up as she straightens her posture, sufficiently intrigued with sparkling eyes and all.

 

“The Vice President is asking me for input?” she utters, as if such a thing were impossible--an exaggeration in Wendy’s opinion. And Wendy raises a questioning brow at the Treasurer’s surprising enthusiasm. Quickly though, the latter clears , toning herself down. “I mean, yeah, sure. What is it?”

 

Normally, Wendy would’ve never asked Yeri for any sort of advice because frankly, the girl was younger and less responsible. Plus, reactions like the one she just had tended to brew trouble for the future. And yet, there have been times---tiny memorable glimpses of maturity in her--that have impressed Wendy. Enough for her to trust Yeri, hoping for a sensible point of view.

 

“So let’s say I have this friend,” the Vice President pauses, knowing full well how cliche she must sound. Hating the slight quiver in her voice, hesitation she’s not accustomed to. “And I found out about their… secret, I guess you could call it. And it’s a worrying secret--”

 

“Worrying for them or worrying for you?” Yeri quickly interjects, leaning back against the table.

 

And it’s a rational question.

 

She’s just trying to get the story straight, Wendy reasons. But it undeniably irks her just the tiniest bit. Enough to make her pause and take a breath.

 

“I’d like to think both but it’s definitely concerning to me, I suppose.”

 

A hum resounds at the base of Yeri’s throat and she tilts her head, “Okay, go on.”

 

“Anyways, I want to confront them and ask why,” the Vice President confesses, not wanting to further prolong the explanation. Her fingers rest anxiously atop the keyboard as she briefly glances back at the computer screen. “I’m just not so sure on how to go about doing it yet.” She’s played the situation over and over in her head. How to ask and when. What to say and how to properly express it but it never seems quite right. “What do you think?”

 

The explanation, Wendt admits, is incredibly vague and perhaps too concealed to gain any worthwhile advice. But still, it’s worth a shot. Yeri brings a finger to her lips, holding it in place, mulling over the situation. Seconds pass and the lack of a response is starting to feel a bit unnerving.

 

“Can I be honest?” Yeri asks, wearing a rather serious expression. A rare sight to Wendy’s eyes, though most certainly welcomed.

 

The Vice President nods.

 

“There’s a reason your friend has this secret and whatever it is, well,” she pauses, giving a small shrug, “it’s their secret to keep. So unless it’s something that’s about you or is endangering to them or anyone else,” Yeri’s hand falls from her lips and to the table, her fingers briefly drumming along its surface, “I’d personally keep it close to my chest for now.”

 

Wendy doesn’t say a word, remaining frozen in her seat. Unmoved by the rational assessment because despite knowing that Yeri’s right, she’s conflicted.

 

It’s sound and well-thought-out advice--sure.

 

But it’s not what she wants to hear.

 

It’s against her personal concerns and it’s wrong to wish Yeri would’ve sided with her. Feed her with support. Encourage her to probe because that’s what a good friend would do, Wendy tells herself--that’s what she wants to do. But…

 

She removes her hands from the keyboard, folding them in her lap.

 

It’s not necessarily a bad secret though, is it?

 

Even so, Wendy can’t help but frown.

 

“But I also think that if this friend is really close to you,” Yeri continues, tilting her head again in thought, “then maybe the reason behind their secret isn’t so hard to figure out?”

 

--

 

Wendy waits patiently, resting against the wall by the lockers. Students rush to and fro, hastily packing their things, excited to finally be done with classes for the day. Absolutely wasting no time in making their exit. She watches the seconds tick by on the clock on the wall as her mind runs in circles, conflicted still. And the feeling is beyond unwanted as she begins to grow irritated with herself.

 

It should be left alone.

 

For now, at the very least.

 

Yeri had a point. There was no immediate harm in what Wendy had stumbled upon but it’s perplexing. So much so, she can’t simply push it away. Had she found out earlier when all she had were preconceptions--what she had only heard and seen of Seulgi from afar--she would’ve confronted Irene in a heartbeat, thinking that her best friend was being taken advantage of.

 

But now…

 

Now is different.

 

Now is complicated.

 

Because as much as Wendy hates to admit it, Seulgi isn’t entirely bad.

 

Yet, even so…

 

“It doesn’t make sense,” she whispers to herself.

 

“Wendy! What are you doing? I thought you said you’d be busy after school today?”

 

Walking towards her, wearing the sweetest smile and looking pleasantly surprised, is Irene. Irene who Wendy had thought she knew better than anyone. Apparently not. Not well enough to understand how all of this had happened.

 

“I was waiting for you,” the Vice President replies as she reaches into her bag, taking out the purple notebook. “Here. You left this at my place last weekend.”

 

“Oh my god, I was wondering where this was!”

 

A look of relief appears to wash over Irene and she gratefully takes the notebook back, flipping it over front and back. And Wendy watches carefully. Mindful of how thoroughly Irene might examine it, anticipating that her friend might wonder if Wendy had searched it at all given its important contents. But Irene does no such thing and instead, simply tucks the notebook into her bag, sighing softly to herself.

 

“I thought it was just hiding somewhere in my room. Thanks, Wendy.”

 

Why?

 

Wendy wonders once again. Lost in the same circle of thoughts, unable to comprehend. Her gaze narrows, slowly shifting from the bag to Irene’s untroubled expression.

 

But I also think that if this friend is really close to you then maybe the reason behind their secret isn’t so hard to figure out.

 

Was it desperation?

 

Heartbreak beyond belief?

 

Wendy’s never known the feeling herself but could the reason be that simple? She clenches her teeth and her jaw tightens. If it was, what kind of friend was she to not notice. No. There has to be more to it. Because even if it really is that simple, the problem is understanding it--the problem is of all people to seek solace in, why Seulgi?

 

And why did the latter even care to help?

 

“How’d your quiz go?” The Vice President asks for the sake of conversation as Irene finishes packing her belongings.

 

“Pretty good,” she confidently replies. “Having my notebook would’ve definitely helped me out with some last minute cramming but I think I aced it.”

 

Wendy gives a slow nod, “As expected.”

 

A motive. There’s always motive.

 

But on whose part?

 

Unconsciously, she begins to play with the ring on her right pinky finger. Twisting the metal round and round much like the cogs of her mind. Her thoughts grow dark and doubt is difficult to escape.

 

Maybe it’s manipulation after all.

 

Perhaps Seulgi is the one who initiated and coerced Irene knowing her fragility during the time would be the perfect opportunity. Offering promises and comfort only to take advantage of her.

 

To play with her.

 

Just as everyone says.

 

But is Seulgi that deceptive?

 

It can’t be ruled out. The possibility is there.

 

Without thinking, Wendy begins to speak, “Hey, Irene…”

 

The question boils up in her chest. More and more.

 

She draws a breath.

 

Hesitation.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Irene shuts her locker and zips her bag closed. And still, Wendy can’t say it. moves to speak but the words die in . No strength comes to her voice.

 

Irene blinks, passing a worried glance in her direction, “Is something wrong?”

 

“I just--” And what little resolve Wendy holds is gone when she looks back at those eyes. Her question--the real question--for the time being, is pushed away. Instead, she remembers something else. A different concern that quickly leaves her lips, “Uh, about this Friday... are you... going to be okay?”

 

A flash of hurt.

 

Vulnerability barely shielded by the ghost of a smile.

 

“I was actually trying not to remember that,” Irene laughs to herself, forced and somber. Friday, the day that would’ve marked Irene’s third year anniversary with Minho--a rather substantial amount of time. And now, in just a span of weeks, everything has become so different. “I’ll be alright though,” she says. “It’s just another normal day now. Nothing special about it.”

 

But Irene looks away all too quickly to be completely convincing.

 

“You sure? Do you want some company or…” Wendy pauses, reluctant to ask but curiosity entices her, seizing the chance, “or does Seulgi know?”

 

The other girl arches a brow, appearing somewhat surprised.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” the Vice President waves her hand. “I’m just asking because I assumed she’d be with you, since she’s your girlfriend and all.”

 

Careless baiting. A clumsy effort on Wendy’s part as she hopes to get any kind of hint. Even the smallest slip-up will suffice her so long as more light is shed to the hidden truth.

 

Irene leans back against her locker, hugging her bag close to her chest, sighing, “Seulgi’s been a bit out of it lately. I’d rather not bother her with something as trivial as an old anniversary with an ex.”

 

“Does that matter?” Wendy answers back with little hesitation. “I mean, she is your girlfriend.”

 

And her compulsion to know, to question and dig, is beginning to reveal too much on her part as Irene narrows her eyes with growing suspicion.

 

“What’s with you? Has Seulgi warmed up to you that much?”

 

“No! Of course not,” the Vice President scoffs. Twisting her ring more and more rapidly, trying to keep cool. “I’m just, you know,” she speaks calmly, “looking out for you.”

 

Just as Irene had for her since the day they became friends.

 

Always.

 

With a gentle smile, Irene reassures her, “Friday is nothing, Wendy. I’ll be okay.”

 

//

 

For the first time in weeks, Seulgi slouches at the desk in her room with her nose deep in a number of textbooks. Hand endlessly scrawling notes and formulas. Her feet shuffle beneath the desk. Crossing and uncrossing. Restless from sitting for so long as it’s been hours of studious labor. Not something she particularly enjoys or regularly practices in, of course, but it certainly makes a good distraction.

 

A much needed distraction.

 

A soft buzz interrupts her but only for a second and then she continues on, forcing her attention to remain laser-focused on the dull text that was beginning to tire her eyes.

 

The third time today.

 

The effort has tremendously decreased over the past week.

 

Good.

 

It’s pointless anyway, Seulgi thinks. Because never in her right mind will she respond.

 

Let them tire out.

 

Once this weekend passes, they’ll be gone again and…

 

Another buzz.

 

Another text in the span of one minute. The fourth one that will go unread.

 

Seulgi stops writing and brings the pen to , biting the pen cap on the back in increasing irritation, the point of her fang digging into the plastic. And before she can return to writing, the phone buzzes another time.

 

She grabs her phone from the corner of her desk, s the drawer open and throws it in to lock it away. And she nearly shoves it close but the sight of purple parchment causes her to pause midway. A faint knocking in the back of her mind. Seulgi blinks numerous times over as a tiny crease starts to form between her brows.

 

Her eyes travel upward towards the bulletin board, glancing over all the post-it notes. She goes down the rows, one by one, until--

 

“Crap!” she shouts as she abruptly stands, nearly knocking her chair back.

 

Hastily, Seulgi grabs her keys and her jacket, running out the door.

 

--

 

She parks crooked and halfway up the driveway. Almost violently yanking her keys out of the exhaust as she stumbles out of her truck. Rushing and worried, Seulgi strides toward the front door, knocking twice.

 

She should’ve remembered.

 

A small breeze brushes by, rustling the leaves of nearby bushes and trees. And Seulgi bounces on her feet as she’s met with no answer. She raises her hand to knock again, knuckles grazing the door as it finally opens with Irene staring back at her.

 

“Seulgi,” she simply says.

 

And the heartthrob tilts her head at the casual utterance. The lack of surprise or disappointment in Irene’s tone. Seulgi’s eyes roam up and down, noting the coat and shoes Irene already has on before settling on her face, examining her eyes and nose for even the smallest giveaway--some evidence of spilt tears and pitiful wallowing.

 

But strangely, there’s nothing.

 

“Why didn’t you remind me about today?” Seulgi asks as she hides her hands in her pockets, wondering.

 

“I knew I didn’t have to. And even if you really did forget, I didn’t want to bother you. But,” Irene smiles. “You’re here, as always.”

 

The certainty in those words cause Seulgi to raise an eyebrow, asking herself if her worry had been misplaced. Or perhaps, she had overreacted a little, racing over with such urgency as she pictured Irene curled up and crying alone.

 

But apparently, such isn’t the case.

 

The heartthrob blinks when everything clicks in her head.

 

“Then,” Seulgi begins to ask, “were you just waiting for me this whole time?”

 

No shrug.

 

No nod.

 

No answer of any sort.

 

Irene steps out the door and shuts it behind her. Her hands pull at her coat, bracing herself for the late afternoon chill. For a brief moment, she glances at Seulgi and then looks away, walking towards the truck.

 

“Mind if we go somewhere?”

 

Seulgi turns around, standing still as she stares at Irene with mild confusion. Her keys tightly grasped in her left hand, wondering. And then, silently, she follows. Starting up the truck, knowing just where to go.

 

//

 

They drive to a familiar hilltop where the city and sky hang against the sunset. Hues of purple and orange color tall grey skyscrapers in the distance--there, over the hill, where everything seems so far away. A beautiful sight slowly fading by the second. The sunset’s fleeting warmth caressing Seulgi’s skin as she steps out of the truck.

 

Irene is the first to make her way up the hill, lightly jogging over to the single tree. She takes shelter within its shade as she sits herself down by its trunk.

 

In contrast, lagging far behind, is Seulgi. Taking her time up the hill as she stares at Irene whose gaze is already far into the clouds. The heartthrob quietly contemplates. Grass crumpling beneath her feet, crisp green blades folding under her weight. The sound so clear amidst the surrounding silence.

 

Not a single word was spoken during the drive.

 

Not a single word was spoken upon arrival either.

 

And Seulgi thinks of what the first words will be.

 

A small wrinkle forms between the heartthrob’s brows. Usually, it isn’t so hard to guess how Irene is feeling or what she might say. The light in her eyes, the look on her face--so easy to read. Honest and frank. Except for right now.

 

Somehow, Seulgi can’t pinpoint it.

 

Has she been so out of it to not know?

 

Seconds pass and it doesn’t take long for her to catch up as she takes a seat next to Irene, crossing her legs and leaning forward with her arms resting atop her knees.

 

Again, neither of them speak.

 

And It’s a silence that’s drawn on too long for the heartthrob’s liking.

 

“So,” Seulgi takes in a breath, “how are you holding up?”

 

“I’m okay,” Irene replies without the slightest glance at Seulgi. Her eyes carefully trained ahead, somewhere there in the sky, lost in her own world. “Better than I thought I’d be, actually.”

 

The heartthrob blinks at the reply, noting Irene’s own tone of slight surprise.

 

“I thought our anniversary--or what would’ve been our anniversary--was going to be excruciating,” she goes on, releasing a rather heavy sigh as her shoulders drop. “To be honest, I was dreading this whole week. I was scared of today and what I might feel.”

 

Broken.

 

Pitiful.

 

Lonely.

 

Regretful.

 

A few words come to Seulgi’s mind as she taps her finger against her right knee, imagining the pain of these things and how familiar they feel. How hard they are to overcome. What it takes to forget it all.

 

“But you know what? It doesn’t hurt too much--not as much as I was expecting, at least. The pain is definitely still there but I can feel that it’s healed somewhat.”

 

The heartthrob’s lips part ever so slightly as if to speak. And yet, not a single sound leaves her. Rarely is she ever without a reply and for once, in a long time, she’s not sure how to respond. This isn’t what she anticipated. This isn’t how she remembers it.

 

“Is that so? That’s… good to hear,” Seulgi nods as she struggles for reasons unknown to her.

 

Unable to say more--uncertain if she can say more--the tapping ceases as her finger falls still and all Seulgi can do is follow Irene’s example and look out to the sky, where there’s nothing to be seen and nothing to be found. Not for her, at least. In the back of her mind, distant echoes call to her from a memory long gone but she continues to force herself in ignoring it. But it prods and prods, pushing a question.

 

“Then what about Minho and Krystal? Are you still angry at them?”

 

And the heartthrob can sense a pair of eyes settling upon her, though she doesn’t dare look. These past few days, Irene had grown more attentive with her lingering glances and silent observations. Unconcerned as well as to whether or not Seulgi would catch her in the act either. For the few times she did, Irene never said a word. Not even in retaliation against Seulgi’s teases. Irene would simply hold the heartthrob’s gaze, locking her in place. And there was this weight to it--a pressure that seemed to press against Seulgi’s chest, always compelling her to turn away in the end.

 

“Actually, Krystal and I talked,” Irene reveals as the weight of her stare no longer rests on Seulgi. Returning instead to the clouds overhead. “She came up to me first, you know? She apologized for being inconsiderate when we were out with them. And she also apologized for everything else, too.”

 

The small tremor in Irene’s voice is nothing unusual or alarming. Seulgi’s come to learn that the girl had a tendency to shake in their more serious conversations. What the heartthrob does pick up on though are the imprints of relief lingering at the end of her words as they eventually trail off into a faint sigh, signalling more to be said.

 

But Seulgi already knows.

 

“And you forgave her,” the heartthrob cuts in, certain that anything else would’ve been impossible.

 

It’s Irene, after all, and she’d do no less.

 

From the corner of her eye, Seulgi catches the other girl nodding.

 

“It wasn’t her fault. Thinking about it now, I don’t think I can completely blame anyone. People change. People fall out of love. And people are left behind,” Irene explains, her voice growing fainter and fainter. So small but still present, fighting to ignore the strain and resist the quivers threatening to crack the strong exterior she’s upholding. “I just happened to get the short end of the stick, I guess. But that’s just how things are, isn’t it? So I forgave her.”

 

A light breeze passes through and Irene hugs her knees close to her chest. She pauses, biting her lip. Inches away, Seulgi can feel her shivering.

 

“Or maybe... I’m oversimplifying it,” Irene thinks aloud. “Maybe, I just want to finally move past all of this and that’s why I forgave her. What do you think? Was I wrong? Or,” she mumbles as she rests her chin on top of her knees, “Am I just being stupid?”

 

Finally, Seulgi turns to Irene. Her attention falling to the girl’s downcast expression. And Seulgi can’t help but think back to weeks ago. Back to when she dragged Irene to the bathroom meaning to confront her only for the girl to break down and curl up on the floor. Tears helplessly streaming down her cheeks as she gave in to self-pity, pleading for Seulgi’s help. Such a fragile and miserable sight to bear. One that was all too reminiscent as it stirred and twisted Seulgi’s insides.

 

That’s when Seulgi should’ve said no. That’s when she should’ve left. But against her better judgment--too soft-hearted and always beyond reasoning--she reached out and eventually succumbed to Irene’s pleas, knowing just how difficult it was to escape that downward spiral. And how desperate one could become.

 

But hearing her now… well, Seulgi should’ve known.

 

Irene is nothing like her.

 

“You’re not stupid. In fact,” Seulgi softly smiles, “you’re a lot tougher than I thought.”

 

Almost immediately, Irene shakes her head.

 

“No way. I’ve only toughened up recently and that’s partly thanks to you.”

 

“Me? I hardly think I did--”

 

“Stop,” Irene says, practically commanding her, though her voice remained gentle. “Don’t sell yourself short, Seulgi. You have a bad habit of doing that.”

 

The heartthrob arches a brow, thrown off by Irene’s abrupt interruption that’s both predicted and countered her unfinished sentence. She chuckles and forces a grin, playing it off.

 

“Aware of my habits now, are you?”

 

And Seulgi directs her attention over the hill again, focusing on the darkening sky. Cautious not to meet Irene’s eyes. Questioning what’s changed and why it is she can’t look back. Fear? Uncertainty? The chances of unraveling nearing the edge more and more that just a single moment may push her over.

 

Perhaps, that’s what it is--this unsettling sensation.

 

“Of course,” Irene exclaims matter-of-factly. “I’d at least know that much about you by now.”

 

With nothing to say, as if that one statement is enough to strike any argument down--sarcastic or not--Seulgi remains silent. Counting each breath in this standstill as every second passes in slow motion. Purple and orange fade from the sky more and more with the sun nearing its full departure. And Irene’s words play over and over in her head. Repeating seemingly without end.

 

Some people are just left behind, huh?

 

Such a simple reality of life. One that she’s convinced herself of accepting already.

 

Lies.

 

No, Seulgi’s refused it from the beginning. She’s run away from it for so long--even now, she runs. Angry still, after all this time. One look at his face. One mention of her, knowing that she’s so close. It’s proven her weak, reminding her of the hard truth. All that suffering and confusion buried so deep, climbing its way up. Echoes shouting that nothing--absolutely nothing--has changed.

 

A harsh truth she’s long avoided.

 

A painful truth she’s long ignored.

 

Hidden behind those words--Everything was said and done.

 

The lie she’s so desperately clung onto and convinced herself of over time. If only to save herself. Yes, that was her selfish answer.

 

But truly, there was only ever one solution. One final nail in the coffin. And now, with her here, perhaps this is the chance to end it. To finally lay it to rest and free herself of her lies… if she’s brave enough.

 

Then maybe--just maybe, Seulgi can truly…

 

The heartthrob pauses amused at the irony, glancing at Irene for a split second. Of course, she’d figure it out first. Reaching acceptance and grasping it with her own hands.

 

Irene.

 

Yes, Seulgi was severely wrong.

 

The girl is nothing like her--a clear cut above the rest.

 

The heartthrob breathes a heavy sigh, “You really are tough though, Irene. I mean it. And I bet that soon enough, you’ll be just fine on your own.”

 

Yet again, a quiet lull blankets them and the air grows chillier. And Seulgi closes her eyes, reminiscing on nights long past when she laid on the grass of this very hilltop, seeking peace and refuge. A place to gather her thoughts undisturbed. A place to be away and alone.

 

“Soon,” Irene repeats with a whisper. “But not now.”

 

Seulgi opens her eyes and turns, arching a brow.

 

“Right now, I still need you. So you’re stuck with me,” Irene softly smiles, hugging her knees and turning her head to look at Seulgi.

 

Again, wit and charm fail the heartthrob upon eye contact as she stumbles to reply. Words carelessly fall from her lips, “I-I guess so.”

 

And Seulgi dares to look a little longer. To soak in the gentle smile on Irene’s face and trace the tenderness of it in her mind. Her hand slowly reaches out, moving of its own accord. It’s something she still hasn’t come to understand--how one could make such an expression. Then, she pokes Irene’s forehead, giving it a gentle tap, causing the girl to flinch and blink in confusion.

 

“Hey, what was that for?!” Irene pouts, raising her voice.

 

The heartthrob can’t help but laugh, quickly retracting her hand before Irene can slap it away.

 

“Nothing!” Seulgi grins from ear to ear. “I just really liked the look on your face is all.”

 

Always so soft and too honest. A fragility both admirable and frightening, it captivated her.

 

Beyond the hill, the sun has nearly set, barely peeking over the horizon as the sky darkens and an evening breeze blows through. Beside her, Seulgi can feel Irene shiver and her teeth chatter when suddenly, the latter scoots closer. Weaving both of her arms around Seulgi’s right arm and resting her head atop her shoulder. The heartthrob stiffens for a moment, holding her breath as she’s caught by surprise and then relaxes, breathing her in as she gazes over the city.

 

“Seulgi,” Irene says as her trembling eases from their shared warmth.

 

“Yeah?”
 

“I’m here for you too, you know.”

 

//

 

She lies awake in bed. Staring up at the ceiling with her phone clutched tightly in her hands, resting atop her chest. Steady breaths, in and out, steeling herself in preparation. She needs only one sentence or even half of a sentence will do, so long as it’s clear and coherent.

 

Slowly, she raises her phone, struggling as if her limbs are as heavy as lead. The screen flashes on and her eyes wince from its piercing brightness.

 

Nearly one-hundred unread messages.

 

All from her.

 

For a brief moment, Seulgi stares, contemplating on leaving it as is.

 

Just like that.

 

Unnoticed and unanswered. Just as she’s been doing until now.

 

Running.

 

She grits her teeth at the thought. Frustrated at how easily shaken and reluctant she becomes at times like these. Always falling short. Always turning tail. Always afraid.

 

No more.

 

Seulgi abruptly sits up. Her pillow tumbles onto the floor. Three heartbeats pass and she opens the most recent message, eyes glazing over it, uninterested in what it may say. Her thumbs glide along the keyboard, typing as her mind races and loops over the possible outcomes.

 

Three words are more than enough.

 

She takes in a deep breath and upon exhaling, hits send.

 

Seulgi: Tomorrow, let’s meet.

 

--

a/n: PLEASE READ ;A; OKAY, so this update is wayyy past overdue and i’m sorry it took me so long to post this especially after all those tweets i made on twitter lol since my last update i moved into my own apartment and was so busy with family and friends, plus other things, that i fell behind in my writing. But now, here it is, the next update, but i’m sure at this point a lot of you have forgotten what happened in recent chapters lol which is totally fine and completely expected. So if you need to reread or refresh yourself on what happened, take your time lol since you all know how slow i am. I’m especially sorry that i didn’t respond to all the previous comments but I did read each and every one of them! Usually, i take the time to respond to all the comments from the previous chapter before i make my update but i wanted to get this update up as soon as possible for you all once it was ready so i didn’t have time to respond to everyone which i apologize for. But know that i always appreciate your guys’ comments and i always read them ;A; they’re a big motivator for me and i always appreciate the time taken to write them. Thank you all for being so patient, for reading, for subscribing, and for commenting. This update was originally supposed to be longer but i cut out a scene in favor of including it in the next update since i thought it’d flow better there. Here’s hoping it doesn’t take another 9 months or so for me to post again~ you guys are the best~ until next time =]