The sun sneaked in through the blinds, creating a shadow play on her exposed legs. She laid still, eyes staring at the ceiling and yet not seeing it. For the first time in a while, her mind was blank, no thoughts circling dangerously, no desire springing from the depths of Hell, just for her eternal torture. It was finally the day whose existence she tried so hard to deny – it was finally Kim Jongin’s wedding day.

Yiseo’s fingers turned off the alarm before it began ringing and headed for the bathroom, void of any will to perform the ancient tradition of putting on her face the world was going to see. Not many knew about Jongin and her history, but those who did were going to throw her pitiful looks – she was sure of that. And despite that she had to smile, congratulate the couple and watch them ride into the sunset of her life.

Her silky chemise fell softly on the floor before she got in the shower, turning on the hot water till it burned her skin, still thinking of nothing. And as the droplets bit her skin, her mind slowly came to life, screaming in pain at the realization that she was going to have first row place to the crumbling of her life. And she wandered, what was there, after Jongin?

Jongin. Jongin. Jongin.

Kim Jongin.

His name filled her head as if someone was inscribing it directly on her brain – like a song or a curse. She wanted to call it out loud, but only a whimper left her lips as she collapsed on the stone floor, under the shower rain.

Jongin. Jongin. Jongin.

Kim Jongin.

He was going to be someone else’s. How foolish of her to think that he would turn back to her, that he would ask to be taken back! How foolish to give him all of herself and not leave anything for someone else! For herself! What was she going to do once he was finally locked behind the golden bars of his marriage?

Song Yiseo didn’t know. But as she finally uncurled herself, standing up, she hoped with all her might that she wouldn’t do something rash. She scrubbed her body with trembling hands, hoping to scrub away the bad thoughts that were lurking around the edges of her thoughts, leaving a bitter taste in .

She took her time: to scrub Kim Jongin off her, to ease the pain while putting on her make-up and clothes that made her look like someone who had no regrets. However, her reflection showed exactly how she felt – lost. But as it was a ritual she had to complete, she chose the most uncomfortable pair of high heels to beautifully kill her feet. Because doing something reckless was less alluring when she was in pain.

* * *

As expected, the wedding hall was packed with people, some of which started whispering as soon as Yiseo appeared. And just the same, Junmyeon was always there to shield her.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered when she took his arm, leading her towards the main hall.

They passed by the bride’s photo room and, through the cracked-open door, Yiseo’s eyes met Krystal’s. Despite looking away first, Yiseo smirked. For once, she was thrilled about being the bad guy. This was payback for all the bad things Krystal did, for all the heartbreak she had caused, that’s what Yiseo decided, despite feeling that it was far from ever being enough. Because Krystal’s happiest day was going to be a hot iron through Yiseo’s heart.

“How are you feeling?” Junmyeon asked, his eyes on her as they sat down at their designed places around a small table.

“My feet are already killing me,” she answered smiling. They were sitting too close to the stage – she felt a drop of cold sweat roll down her back. “And the AC here is no joke,” she pointed to the ventilation right above their table.

“Yiseo.”

“Junmyeon,” she mimicked his tone. “Let’s see this through,” her fingers accepted his, squeezing them for dear life. “Maybe I’ll give in to you.”

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