Moon Byul-yi was asking herself how she ended up crammed into the last train of a Saturday night, a combination of two things she hated. First, she’d rather stay at home than going out on Saturdays because every single street was packed with people, the lines for any restaurant or coffee shop were endless and she found waiting two hours to eat more than ridiculous. Second, it wouldn’t be and exaggeration to state that Byul-yi despised the last trains. They were full of drunk, alcohol-reeking old people or the workaholics who could barely keep their eyes open after who knows how many hours working non-stop. Now, she herself was a little bit tipsy, so she couldn’t completely hate them, but that didn’t make her anger diminish.

While she tried not to push the wasted man who was clinging to her -possibly mistaking her by the handrail- through the doors, her attention was drawn to a certain dark haired girl who forced herself into the train. Byul-yi tended to get distracted by pretty girls, and she was very pretty indeed. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. It was the tears that streamed down her round cheeks, the way she looked to the ceiling in a failed attempt to stop crying. And the fact that the train was so full the girl couldn’t even bring her hands up to clean her face made the scene a lot harder to witness. However, there wasn’t anything she could do, not with the dumb- clinging to her arm for dear life and the lots of people between her and the crying lady. Not that there was much to do anyway, the young woman was a complete stranger, for her dismay.

After a few minutes, the train came to one of the main stations of the city. Passengers went out hastily, a few ones hurrying to be on time for their transfer to different train lines. Now that she could at least breathe and move, Byul-yi decided she wanted to do something for the lady who hasn’t stopped crying at all (quite the opposite, it felt like the tears were falling faster by the second). Without much thought she searched the pockets of the jacket to find some tissues that a guy from the hair salon nearby the station was handing in the evening. She thanked the guy for insisting on her to take them.

Would the girl be scared of a weirdo handing her tissues? Probably, but when Byul saw pretty girls her reasoning skills went to the very back of her head (add the alcohol in her veins and you had a recipe for disaster). Her hands were starting to get moist with sweat and she decided it was better to give the tissues out before they turned into a soggy ball. Moving swiftly among the remaining passengers, she got near the brunette and woah, she was more attractive close-up. And that was with puffy eyes, ruined eyeliner and a runny nose. The blonde stopped in her tracks, suddenly nervous again. Not that anybody could blame her, she was a er for pretty girls.

“Here.” She said taping the stranger’s shoulder.

Startled, the stranger turned up in her direction and blinked a couple of times eyeing her with disbelief before accepting the tissue pack with an almost imperceptible nod. She took one out and cleaned her nose, followed by the black stained cheeks. When it looked like she was done, both crying and cleaning up the make-up, tears started to form back in her eyes y choked sobs came from trembling lips. Byul-yi felt her chest tighten; she might not know this girl, but whatever happened was hard enough to make her crumble down in a public space, and she had suspicions about her being the type of person who tries to act strong all the time. Her eyes carried a blunt shine that gave away her tenacity. 

“Hey,” she started cautiously, her voice softer than intended, but the once again vague nod ensured her that the girl had heard her “I know life sometimes.” Wow, Byul-yi, you are so wise, mocked her inner-self. Still, she caught a slight upwards twitch of the girl’s lips. “Give it some time, everything’s gonna be okay. And also, there aren’t many stations left, so I guess you should be careful. This is the last train, you know.”

The girl head shot up at the opening doors sound and the blonde had to make a big effort not to chuckle at her deer-in-headlights expression. The brunette’s eyes frantically searched for the name of the station and her body relaxed a bit when she found it. As the doors closed, she leaned back into her original position.

“Thanks.” Byul shivered at her voice. Even if it was sort of a lip-trembling whine, she had a nice voice color, perfect for someone as pretty as her.

Byuly-yi rolled down her sleeves to hide the goose bumps and then pushed her cap down when she felt a blush creep up her face. Her heartbeat sped as if her life-time crush had spoken to her for the first time. Why did she had to get so nervous whenever it came to pretty girls? She needed to get a grip of herself before she ended up in a real gay panic attack. A ghostly tap to her arm brought her back to her senses, in which the girl was already getting off the train.

“Thank you.” She said again, this time showing the tissue.

“No problem. Next time I see you I hope you’re not crying”

The girl sent her a side glare and a roll of eyes before the train doors closed. The blonde smiled faintly at the figure waving goodbye to her from the platform.

*

*

*

“You really , unnie” she had finished telling her story to Wheein -more like the details, they had talk about it over the phone during that same night-, who was painting a big canvas as one of her assignments.

“Why would you say that? There was nothing much to do!” She protested.

“I don’t know, maybe you could have say something better than life .” She mocked making a terrible imitation of her voice. The shorter girl pulled the closest stool with a loud screech and climbed on it to paint the upper part of her gigantic drawing. “If she was crying the way you describe, I’m pretty s