Chaeyoung doesn’t know how much time has passed, she just knows it’s been a long time that she has just been lying on her bed like a corpse, letting the thoughts of Mina consume her. Her mom had initially pulled her up to eat her meals, but she has thus given up and just delivered the meals to her room. Today however, her dad is the one who brings her food in, putting down the tray of food on her table as he looks at her and sighs. Shaking his head, he takes out his wallet and throws a few bills on the table, his ban on not giving her money forgotten (after all, if money can help his little brat of a daughter come back to him, he wouldn’t mind giving his entire fortune away). “At least change your position, you are going to get back sores at this rate.”

Chaeyoung suddenly springs out of bed, calling out for her dad. “Appa!”

The old man jumps a little. “Aish, what?”

“Why are girls so messy?” She asks her dad, after all, he’s the only one in this house who had experiences of chasing girls.

“You are messier you pathetic fool. Clean your room.” He grimaces at the cans of beer lying around on the floor, shaking his head as he throws out more bills on the table before leaving.

She clears a path from her bed to the table, looking at the food in front of her. Everything just tastes like rubber to her, but she still eats it slowly, not wanting to waste her mother’s efforts. She pulls out her sketchbook, pages all yellow because of its lack of use. There are drawings, sketches of random things, random quotes she thought about and wrote down when she was in high school. Flipping to an empty page, she pulls out a pencil and starts drawing, letting her hand flow freely without thinking. Within a few minutes, a sketch of Mina appears on her sketchbook and she halts all motion, clenching the pencil tight in her hand as she resists the urge to tear out this page.

Her hands fly across the page again, words coming out instead of this time. Her thoughts come out on the page, word by word.

Because of you, I’m becoming ruined

I wanna stop, I don’t want you anymore

I need you girl

Why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone

I need you girl

Why do I keep needing you when I know I’ll get hurt?

She chuckles as she looks at her masterpiece. Indeed. Why?

--

We are meeting tomorrow, same place, same time. Come if you are feeling better.

Chaeyoung reads the text from Dahyun and throws her phone on the bedside table again. Dahyun and Jungyeon has been texting her on and off, being extra careful with her after seeing her emotional outburst that day. Even Nayeon texted her a few times, asking after her. But she doesn’t reply to any of their texts, letting the ticks and her last seen do the job. She picks up her pencil, about to start on a new artwork again when she realizes her sketchbook is all used up. She sighs and sits up from her bed. Maybe this is the sign that she should no longer lock her friends out.

--

Stepping into the diner, she spots her group of friends at their usual corner immediately. They are boisterous and loud as usual, and she stands at the foot of their table, knocking on it. “I see you guys function well without me too.”

The group immediately shuts up and just stares at Chaeyoung, nobody knowing what to do. She pours herself a drink, downing it in one shot. Wiping against her sleeves, she sighs. “You guys invited me, why do y’all look like you have seen a ghost?”

Nayeon jumps up first, engulfing her in a tight hug. She pats Chaeyoung on the head reassuringly as she coos into the latter’s ears. “It’s okay, it will be okay soon.”

Jungyeon clears and pulls Nayeon away from Chaeyoung, obviously discomforted by the way Nayeon is so clingy with her ex. She holds out a fist bump, which Chaeyoung returns as the latter slides into the seat beside Dahyun. “Glad you are back, cub.”

Jihyo looks at her fondly and pats her on the head gently, as if she’s patting a baby animal while Dahyun slides a cup of soju in front of her. Chaeyoung groans at the attention she’s getting as she downs the soju from Dahyun and slams down the cup. “Guys, guys, stop making it seem like I recovered from some terminal illness or something.”

“Yah! You should have seen yourself cry on that day.” Jungyeon laments and does a poor imitation of Chaeyoung. “Can you catch that , and give me back my heart? Can you?”

Chaeyoung promptly sends a punch straight to the girl’s arm. She should be offended, but she can’t find it in herself to get offended by her friends who had always been here, unlike a certain someone (who she was crying over). “At least I’m not dating my friend’s ex.”

The atmosphere immediately drops a few degrees and Chaeyoung thinks it’s time she makes her stance clear so they can all get on with their lives. She pours herself another cup of soju, holding it out towards Nayeon and Jungyeon, who’s looking so uncomfortable avoiding her gaze. “Yah, last long. Don’t end up like me.”

She tips it towards them and downs the shot. The two instantly look relieved, Jungyeon immediately tipping her own cup towards Chaeyoung to thank her for the gesture. She nods and gives a small smile. Even if she can’t get her own happy ending, her friends should.

“Are you feeling better now?” Jihyo asks, always the ‘mom’ of the group, making sure they are all good.

“Frankly, it still hurts.” Chaeyoung doesn’t see the need to pretend in front of her close friends as she speaks the truth. “But I will get over her soon, she wasn’t even that great.” Lies. She is probably the most beautiful girl you ever had the chance of meeting. She downs another cup of soju, ignoring the stinging feeling of her tears forming.

Picking up on the mood, Dahyun immediately claps her hands together, gathering the attention of the group. “Ja, now that our group is finally complete again, it’s time to PARTY IT OUT!”

--

Chaeyoung sits in the cab, watching as Jungyeon bids farewell to Nayeon at her doorsteps. She sees the way Jungyeon holds onto the girl’s hands as if she doesn’t want to ever let go, sees the way Jungyeon stares at Nayeon like she’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen and sees the way Nayeon’s eyes twinkle before she leans in to give a goodbye kiss to Jungyeon. She smiles as Jungyeon enters the cab again, all giddy and Chaeyoung knows it’s not because of the alcohol.

“You should teach me a few tricks, you know.” Chaeyoung says as the cab moves off. Jungyeon hums, not understanding her words.

“Teach me how to treat a girl right so they will stay.” Chaeyoung chuckles bitterly and Jungyeon turns to look at her with a look of pity mixed with anger.

“Yah Son Chaeyoung. Get your senses together. Don’t let a girl do this to you.”

“But she’s not just a girl. She’s the girl, hyung.” Chaeyoung mumbles, and her tears start to stream again. Jungyeon just huffs as she pulls the younger girl into her embrace, patting her on the back of her head.

“It’s her loss. You will get better soon, I promise.”

--

Chaeyoung just sits in the living room, mind still very alert even though she can feel the alcohol coursing through her veins. She thinks about the past few hours spent with her friends laughing about mindless stuff, and it’s the happiest she has been ever since the incident with Mina. She thinks back on how Jungyeon and Nayeon are so compatible with each other, thinks about the way Dahyun can crack them up with her dance moves and facial expressions and how Jihyo’s voice overpowers all of theirs to control them (but most of the time, she’s just adding to the chaos). Then, there’s also her parents, who has been nothing but patient with her as they cater to her needs while she lies around in bed all day. It’s pathetic to be moping over someone who doesn’t even care about her, and making people who actually care about her worry. She straightens up and holds out her own index finger in front of her, as if she’s reprimanding herself. “Okay. That’s enough.”

She makes her way back to her room, pulling out a brand new sketchbook (she reminds herself to thank her mom for it tomorrow morning) as she stares at the blank page. Settling down, she pulls out her pen, and words immediately start to flow from her hands. If she’s hurting, she might as well make her hurt useful. She will write songs, write poetry, write whatever until she can no longer feel the ache between her chest. And she’s going to make a living out of it. She doesn’t know how, but she will make a living out of it. Oh well, she thinks and chuckles bitterly, at least I’m not selling my body for a living.

--

a/n: end of part 1. sequel/part 2/continuation of this story will be up soon (hopefully). 

will be off to battle finals, please wait for me! (also, will be seeing twice on 29/4 for the twiceland concert in Singapore PLEASE PRAY FOR MY HEALTH AND SANITY) 

disclaimer: i do not, in anyway, look down on people who sell their bodies for a living (in fact i respect them for earning their keep). i just want to link the ending back to the story.