“Again, I’m terribly sorry about Chaeyoung’s behaviour today. I’m so embarrassed.” Ms. Park apologised to Jennie, who was standing at the open front door, ready to leave. Jennie could tell Ms. Park’s apology was sincere and felt sorry for her having to raise such a troubled girl, although her eyes were filled with trepidation, hesitant to continue tutoring Chaeyoung, who obviously didn’t agree to these lessons in order to study but to achieve her own agenda. 

“Don’t be, but I’m not sure if I can continue tutoring Chaeyoung. I think she’s using this as an opportunity to live out a fantasy of hers. She was being very inappropriate and blatantly flirting with me,” Jennie explained the blonde girl's actions again, to Ms. Park’s humiliation. 

Chaeyoung’s mother hung her head, with only the laminate flooring and their feet in her vision, hoping gravity would pull the embarrassment from her face. With empathy, Jennie looked on with a consoling smile as Ms. Park raised her head to meet Jennie’s once more.

“I’ll have a word with her, I promise. I’ll drill some sense into her,” Ms. Park's words were laced in a thin layer of desperation, as she really wanted the best for her daughter’s education. 

Jennie resumed her consoling smile and nodded, “And if she’s willing to study and behave herself appropriately, I’d be happy to continue. But I would need her to promise that to me herself.”

Nodding her head, Ms. Park agreed and gave Jennie her gratitude for today’s lesson and her patience with the trying young blonde girl. 

“Thank you again, Jennie. Have a good evening.”

The brunette neighbour exited the door after a genuine “you too,” before following the driveway and path to her house next door. 

As soon as Ms. Park closed the door, fire burned in her eyes. She stomped over to the bottom of the stairs and proceeded to raise her head and fill her lungs before releasing an almighty yell. “CHAEYOUNG!”

No response. Although, the young blonde heard her name being screamed by her mother. After all, she’s not deaf. But she chose to ignore it as she knew she would be facing the repercussions of her actions towards Jennie. So instead of running downstairs to face her doom, she leisurely flipped through her music magazine, reading the reviews of the latest albums. 

“CHAEYOUNG! GET DOWN HERE NOW!”

The young blonde hummed to herself as she continued to lay on her front on her baby pink duvet with one leg cocked in the air, reading an article titled The Top 10 Performances at Coachella 2019.

However, as soon as she heard her mother’s footsteps come up the stairs, she froze as a sinking feeling swirled in her gut. Her breath started to quicken and her palms started to sweat as she heard the uncharacteristically heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. She was used to her mother having light footsteps. The sound of them coming up the stairs at night to tuck her into bed and wish her goodnight used to make her feel safe and loved, and Chaeyoung would say that they still do, although she was too cool to admit it. But the sound of her heavy, anger-filled footsteps, marching up the stairs at that moment reminded her of unwanted memories. Memories that she knew she would never forget, but chose to suppress. 

“Hey, I’ve been shouting for you,” Ms. Park half-yelled, trying to calm her anger. Chaeyoung glared at her mother clearly traumatised from those unwanted memories as her breath remained shallow but heavy, and her palms continued to sweat, wetting the pages of her magazine, which she stopped flipping through and now gripped on to. 

“What do you want?!” The blonde shouted back, with fear riding her voice.

“Jennie told me all about your behaviour in your lesson today. So you better go and apologise to her right now, or she won’t be tutoring you again,” Ms. Park continued with her voice raised authoritatively, which her daughter hated, especially after the slight panic attack she just had. 

“Why should I?” Chaeyoung snapped back. 

“You tried to seduce her! During your private lesson with her! She’s your teacher for god sake! And she’s married! You can’t manipulate people like that, Chaeyoung! You’ll hurt people!”

“I don’t care!” Chaeyoung snapped, raising her volume, with anger rising and bubbling through her veins. “People have been hurting me my whole life! My whole god damn pathetic life!” The blonde yelled with fresh tears falling down her cheeks. “You know that better than anyone!” She pointed at her mother, with her bottom lip trembling, struggling to fight back the emotions, which were already tipping over the edge. 

Stunned by her daughter’s outburst of pain and anguish, Ms. Park stood frozen, torn between continuing the conversation and hugging her hurting daughter. She couldn’t move a muscle on her face as she stared at Chaeyoung, almost staring through her, having not seen her daughter scream like this in well over a year. She was now reluctant to continue arguing with her, because her daughter was right: she knew how much people had hurt her daughter in the past. There was no way she could deny that. 

Chaeyoung stood with her feet glued to the floor as she continued to cry and yell, allowing the surge of panic that she experienced earlier to burst out of her through tears and wails.

“You know I’ve been hurt my whole god damn life! Why can’t others hurt instead of me?!” She yelled with venom at her still catatonic mother, who still didn't have a clue how to respond.

Wiping her tears away from her eyes, Chaeyoung broke free from her quicksand of misery and stormed out of her room. “I’m just trying to make it even,” she growled through her tear-soaked lips as she walked past her mother, who was still processing the whole interaction. 

Shaking herself out of her empty state, Ms. Park turned and yelled to the now distant Chaeyoung, who was already descending the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“To the gym!” She yelled back to her mother, grabbing her trainers and carrying them in her hand through the front door, unable to stay in the house long enough to slip them on. She slammed the door behind her, making sure the sound of her anger could be heard throughout the house and stormed off down the driveway and onto the pavement. She stopped to slip on her trainers once her home was out of sight, before marching to the gym. 

—

“Chae. What are you doing here? Our next lesson’s tomorrow,” Jackson, one of the instructors said, with his voice laced with concern at the sight of the blatantly troubled blonde. 

She wasn’t in the mood for explaining herself, especially about such personal things that she never shared with anyone. Instead, she glared at Jackson with eyes that screamed mind your own business. However, her voice didn’t repeat it, as she just requested what she went there for, “I just need a bag.”

Putting his bottle of water down on the reception desk, Jackson raised his hand and pointed through the gym to the back, where eight punching bags hung from the steel beams which made up the structure of the industrial-style boxing gym.

“We’ve still got a couple free. You know where they are,” Jackson said giving Chaeyoung a concerned, empathetic smile, which the blonde girl really didn’t want to see. She hated people giving her that smile. She received that smile all throughout her life when people learned of the trauma she had been through. Instead of people giving her empathetic, compassionate smiles, she wanted them to give her answers. Answers to how to stop the flashes of haunting memories and remedy the pain. Two years earlier, she got an answer when a regular at the café saw the anger on Chaeyoung’s face one day and suggested kickboxing. Since then, she’s used it as a way to manage her stress and pain.

With a simple nod of gratitude, which didn’t reach her anger-ridden eyes, the young blonde marched through the gym, passing the boxing ring where two men were sparring with gloves and head guards, over to a vacant punching bag. She went over to the wall where a rack of gloves stood and picked out her size, slipping them on and wriggling her fingers to find comfort as they curled inside to fit the shape of the gloves. 

Once her gloves were on, she went over to the bag, pushing it slightly allowing it to swing side-to-side. She followed the motion of the punching bag as if it was an enemy that she was sizing up, getting ready to attack. Being left-footed, she put her right foot in front of her left, setting herself in the correct stance before unleashing hell on the gently swaying target. 

She twisted her hips as she kicked the bag with her dominant left leg, sending ripples through the bag, ripples filled with anger and frustration. Another kick to the side as she imagined aiming for the kidneys of everyone who pained her in the past. Another kick, and another, causing the bag to sway even more as she imagined the painful screams of people she wished she could make pay for their sins. 

Chaeyoung growled with each punch that she inflicted, using devastating combos that she was taught in previous lessons. Her target was slightly higher than her head, as she imagined the faces of people who deserved to feel the force of her fists. With each punch she imagined their faces bending, bruising, breaking, and bleeding. Each punch carried years of trauma and years of bottled-up rage, which she thought she was now able to control.  

She was annoyed with herself for panicking earlier at the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Maybe that’s why her rage had returned; a mixture of unresolved pain and frustration at herself for allowing herself to be afraid again. In the past, she could justify the fear because in the past the pain was real. But now the pain was just a memory. There was no longer pain threatening her anymore. It was all in the past. So allowing herself to fear it again, knowing that she was safe, pissed her off more than anything. 

An hour went by, and Chaeyoung was finally done. Catching her breath, she walked over to the reception desk and pointed to the fridge. Without questioning, Jackson went to retrieve a bottle of cold water, which the blonde hastily opened and took a long, delicious swig from. She sighed with relief after swallowing the revitalising liquid and nodded to Jackson and his colleague, before leaving. 

Walking away from the gym, Chaeyoung felt ten times lighter, as the weight of the fear and pain that she suffered from earlier was absorbed by the punch bag via every punch and kick she threw. 

Kickboxing had always been therapeutic for Chaeyoung ever since she discovered it two years ago. She always felt clear-headed and refreshed after an hour of beating the living out of a defenseless bag of dead weight. It always made her think about things logically afterward, and this time was no different. 

As she approached home, she walked past Jennie’s house and debated whether or not to go and apologise for her behaviour earlier. She was about to dismiss it and just go home but then she saw the beautiful brunette through her living room window trying her best to push a huge, antique cabinet, which the blonde knew must weigh a ton since old furniture was always heavier and sturdier than modern versions. 

A wave of empathy for the brunette flowed over Chaeyoung as she watched Jennie struggle with the huge piece of furniture, trying her best to push it, pull it, swivel it into the corner of the room. Empathy wasn’t new to Chaeyoung. In fact, she felt it every day for others, but she rarely let anyone see it. She thought showing empathy was a sign of weakness, that tough people didn’t show compassion. After all, she had been sweet and kind to others in the past only to be met with the exact opposite and to be treated like garbage. So, since her life had been utter hell, she wanted to become the toughest person she could be, and that meant not allowing anyone to see any glimmers of weakness. 

With a deep sigh, she allowed herself to bathe in empathy. She walked up to Jennie’s front door, knocking on the black wooden door, with just enough force to be heard downstairs. She waited patiently for a few seconds as she collected her thoughts and wondered how to apologise to the brunette, breathing in the warm summer night air into her lungs, trying to alleviate the butterflies that had only just started fluttering in her stomach. 

The door opened in front of her, with the light from the living room falling on her. After a blink, she saw Jennie standing in the doorway, with a look of surprise on her face, which turned into a knowing smile.

“Hi,” the blonde said, almost timidly. 

“Hi?” Jennie replied, with a look of confusion as she eyed the blonde, whose skin glistened from the sweat she acquired from the gym. 

“Is everything okay?” Jennie continued, expecting an apology, but now curious as to why the blonde was glazed with sweat.

“Yeah, I just saw you struggling with your furniture, and I just wanted to offer a helping hand.” The blonde smiled apologetically at Jennie, and the brunette knew what the silent apology was about. 

“Oh,” the brunette's eyes widened, hesitant to allow someone into her new home. She looked around as if searching for an excuse. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine. I can do it myself,” she said with no belief in herself. Chaeyoung just stayed quiet and stared at the brunette, examine her body language, and waiting for an invite which she wasn’t leaving without. She knew Jennie needed help and she wasn’t leaving without helping her. 

“Are you sure about that? I just saw you struggling with that big- unit in the living room,” the blonde nodded in the direction of the unit she referred to, which was blocked by the opening of the front door. 

Jennie bit her lip and shook her leg slightly as she debated letting the blonde into her home. Something was holding her back, and Chaeyoung sensed that it wasn’t just the embarrassment of an untidy, post-moving day home.

“No, it’s okay. I can manage moving most things. And the things I can’t manage, my husband will definitely help me with. He’s nice like that,” the brunette explained, trying to convince Chaeyoung of her husband’s kindness. 

Without even a response, Chaeyoung just rolled her eyes, shook her head exasperatedly, and walked straight past Jennie into her living room, much to the shock of the short brunette. 

“What are you doing?! I told you I don’t need your help!” The brunette exclaimed defensively.

“I’m not going before I help you. So the quicker I help you, the quicker I’ll be gone,” Chaeyoung said matter-of-factly, giving Jennie no choice. 

Reluctantly. the brunette closed her front door and let out a small anxious sigh. “Okay, well…thanks.”

They both walked over to the huge antique cabinet, and they both stood at the same side, placing all hands on it, getting ready to push it into the corner. 

“Okay. Let’s go,” Jennie instructed before they both pushed as hard as they could. Fortunately, the cabinet moved much easier than the brunette expected and she wondered how strong Chaeyoung was. The cabinet didn’t exactly glide but it slid with minimal friction into the corner, which formed a satisfied smile on Jennie’s face. 

“Thank you.”

“No worries. It looks good there,” Chaeyoung nodded to the cabinet and then glanced at Jennie who was admiring the unit in its new place. “So what’s your husband’s name?” 

Chaeyoung planned on asking that question before she entered the house. She wanted to discuss Jennie’s husband with her to see if it elicited the same response as it did the other night. It wasn’t the main reason why she wanted to enter her house. She really did want to help Jennie, but she also wanted to use the opportunity to answer her suspicions. 

“Oh,” the question came as a shock to Jennie, whose eyes were wide now, not expecting to be talking about her husband with the blonde. “Erm…Kai,” her voice cracked, and Chaeyoung could hear the layer of something dark on his name, making the blonde even more eager to pursue her notion. 

“What does he do to you?” The blonde asked matter-of-factly, trying her best to keep her voice calm. As soon as the question was asked. Jennie’s eyes shot up to meet Chaeyoung’s, hoping not to find suspicion in them.

“What do you mean?” Jennie asked, trying to sound clueless.

The blonde let the question hang in the thick, tense air between them, waiting for a signal. She knew what signal she was looking for. A signal that would be acted out by Jennie’s subconsciousness. It could be scratching her neck, a flash of disgust on her lips, or a self-soothing hand through her hair. All of those signs could indicate discomfort at a certain topic, but Chaeyoung was waiting for one particular signal, especially now that the topic of her husband was still hovering between them.

It almost felt like slow motion. Jennie’s left hand raised, moving across her body and rested on her right forearm, and then slowly rubbed up and down twice. All the while, Jennie kept her eyes on Chaeyoung. The brunette probably didn’t even know she did it. The young blonde’s eyes slowly narrowed as she could feel anger returning to her body. Anger from her past that she had left on the punch bag was now being replaced with anger from Jennie’s present. 

The brunette saw the change in the nineteen-year-old’s demeanour, and worried what she was about to do. She flinched when the blonde reached out and grabbed her right forearm, trying to avoid contact with the young girl, but Chaeyoung was too quick. Jennie flinched in pain as Chaeyoung’s hand gripped her forearm, letting out a pain-filled cry, which angered the blonde even more. Her anger didn’t derive from Jennie’s pain, but from the cause of it, which was still unknown although Chaeyoung had a damn good idea. 

“What are you doing?!” Jennie yelled in protest as she managed to free herself of Chaeyoung’s grip. The blonde cursed herself for not securing a tight enough hold.

“I wanna see your arm.”

“Not this again, Chaeyoung," Jennie groaned. "There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” Jennie tried to sound as convincing as possible.

“Then why did you shout “ow” in pain?” The blonde questioned her, sending her a challenging look. 

“I didn’t say “ow” in pain. I was surprised and thought you were gonna hurt me,” the brunette countered, hoping it was enough.

“Why would I hurt you? I just wanna know why you keep rubbing your arm.”

“Just drop it, Chaeyoung!’ Jennie rubbed the back of her neck. “Go home or I’ll call your mum,” the brunette growled but her threat just bounced off the blonde, who defied her with a simple “no.”

“Go home now, Chaeyoung!” Jennie yelled, pointing to the front door. “Go! Or I’ll stop tutoring you!” Jennie threatened. 

Glancing between the door and Jennie, the young blonde conceded and held on to the fact that Jennie just inadvertently admitted that she’d still tutor her, even after her inappropriate behaviour earlier today. She held on to the fact that she would see Jennie regularly for tutoring and she knew that with time she would finally find out the truth and then be able to help the beautiful brunette.

With a nod and defeated smile, the blonde walked out of Jennie’s house, earning a sigh of relief from the brunette.