Busy streets of Myeongdong, where people shuffle through shops in and out as if everyday's a sale day.

Although I would love to own all of these brand-name treasure like most people here are planning to, I've been summoned here by the cheeky Chaerin. Of course, I've refused every request, every bribery she had under her sleeve. Just when I was about to enter into my apartment, she bursted out of her's, just next door (which was, infact, downright hilarious but creepy) and pulled out the golden card.

What is it you may ask?

A free fashion day-out.

This isn't the first time -well, to be exact, it's the second time she's dragged me with her proud golden card. What do we do on this day? Chaerin would drag me into Myeongdong, forcefully put on exquisite pieces on me and pay for it. Yes, Chaerin pays for my clothes. I rarely buy my own anymore, seeing as my annoying rent takes up most of my income. Chaerin (oh sweet dear Chaerin) has the money- or well, I hope so. If her elegant designing skills got her the amount of money I have right now, I would literally consider the option to murder somebody. I still wonder why she hasn't moved out of this apartment yet, but then she claims that it's 'nostalgic'. 

It's nearly six, and it's clearly getting dark. But Chaerin has still yet to appear. I snuggled into my cardigan, trying to heat myself up. I've already bought myself a cup of clear Blue Hawaii (non-alcoholic, of course, I do have work tomorrow), and I'm trying to navigate myself to Chaerin, yet I have no idea how to locate her. Her phone's off, her boyfriend, Jiyong doesn't have a single clue where she is, well this is just going my way! 

I start to hum, preparing my voice either for an audition next week, or to shout at Chaerin. Usually, I don't mind the lack of punctuality, but she's pratically two hours and fifty eight minutes late. My bum is numb, and my legs need a walk or two (never thought I'd say that). 

Starting with my walk, I bring the straw to my lips, feeling that tangy-sweetness of the shades of blue in my hand. On my other hand, is my phone. My beloved phone, crying for it's life as I start to call for Chaerin for the eighteenth time.

"Chaerin-ah..." I mumbled, before switching to my screaming voice after the voicemail signal, "YAH! LEE CHAERIN! ANSWER ME, BEFORE I START PLANNING HOW TO SHOVE YOUR PHONE UP YOUR SORRY BUTTHOLE!"

I hung up the phone, before the realization dawned onto me that people were staring. Most of them were snickering, while other foreigners were giving me that disapproving look. I covered my face into my scarf, embarassment heating me up. Damn it, Chaerin!

After minutes of seeing the same shops, I got tired of getting excited of the new brand-name cosmetics, just to be bored by the fact that I have only a quarter of the price.

Deciding that shopping is out of the options for today, I'm roaming the streets for now. I do hope she's going to pick up the phone by the end of this hour. 

I opened to my texts, having nothing to do. I scrolled down, down to the second last of the contacts. I smile faltered, before picking itself up again.

Top <3

Was labelled. A rush of nostalgia run me over, remembering all those fantastic memories. All the comical memories. All the intimate memories. Yet sadly, all I have of him is only his memories. His genuine smile, his piercing eyes, his fake name. 

I loved it all.

However, love was meant to be broken. I don't think we were even in love by that time. We were regular teenagers-turning-adults, just two lost souls infatuated by one another. To love is to accept your partner's flaws. To be infatuated, on the other hand, is just mere adoration for your romantic interest's perfections. 

Did I love him and his imperfections?

I tapped onto our chat, scrolling up to the top. I smiled at our conversation. Looking back, inexperienced Bom still had the charms. My present self is still exactly the same, just minus the charms.



Top : Is your name Jenny or Jelly? Bc you certainly made my legs go jelly.

Me : ...

Top : C'mon! I thought of that pick-up line for days!

Me : And I thought of that answer, just after your lame flirtation.



I squealed inside. God, seeing this again just makes me cringe. But I do appreciate the effort.



Me : You're such a weird alien.

Top : What does that mean?

Me : Can't believe you're that stupid.

Me : Can't believe you're my housemate.

Top : I'm not weird!

Me : Ask Amy or Eric yourself. You'll be glad to hear an answer that's more honest

Top : Screw you, Jenny.



I chuckled. Top and I never really got along at the beginning. Nevertheless, all bad startings escalate into good endings. I scrolled down to see more of our bickering, morphing into what seemed like a lover's quarrel. I shyed away, knowing I was 'in love' by then.



Top : Morning babe

Me : You're disturbing my beauty sleep again

Me : But anything for you <3

Top : Just a head's up, I was in a rush this morning

Me : And...?

Top : I forgot to wash the dishes

Top : And stuff

Me : I'm going back to my beauty sleep.



By this point, I was giggling like a school girl. Oh, the memories. They just keep pouring in after all these lonely years. Once again, I swiftly scrolled down, past the memory lane and into what I was dreading to see.



Top : Jenny

Top : Jenny

Top : Please.

Top : It isn't what it looks like

Top : Answer my calls

Top : Where r you??

Top : Come back, please

Top : I'm sorry



I bit my lip at the next line.



Top : I love you.



That was the end. I moved to Massachusetts that day. It was quite a shame, yet I didn't mind not telling him. He really ran me over with a tangle of emotions, he doesn't deserve any explanation. Just as he doesn't deserve to explain his point. I've seen enough. Flashes of his torso with that blondie's perfect curves, creating friction and warmth. And warmth was just the perfect word to explain my face. I only knew, I saw red. I felt the poison, coarsing throughout my evil blood, twisting and corroding my bare heart into what seemed like ashes. I shrieked his name. His fake name, so fake, I felt his fake love. Everything, fake. All his affection, all his warm kisses, all his relieving cuddles. All fake! I hated it! I hate it.

Of course, we're now on friendly terms. Years of no contact seems friendly enough. What seems unfriendly though? Maybe if I beat him up with a frying pan-- 









I stopped mid-tracks, sensing something weird. Broken out of the trail of lost thought, I observed an unusual sighting. A silhouette of a sturdy man, hugging a dear lad in a suit in the park. Yet something seems... odd. Forceful, even. The short lad is kicking, and I'm not sure for what. My breath hitches- and I see the bulky guy reach to his side, pulling out something I've never seen, yet familiar. 

A gun.

My eyes widen as the shiny gear inches towards his head.

The muffled screams of his.

And the sound of the trigger-

With the heartless cackle in the air--

Blood stains. Blood pool. Limp body.

Followed with the echoes of my shrilling scream.