As a "crazy" teenage daughter that ran away from home, I guess I didn't have any right to be upset with my parents. But as soon as I got home, I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and stalked off to my room without another word to my father. He was busy waking up my mom who had dozed off in the passenger seat anyway.

The absence of Jongin was beginning to take a toll on me. Sure, I was without him for months and months at a time, but I wasn't used to him not being there when he was supposed to be. I didn't know where he was and more importantly, if I would ever see him again. All I did all day was stare outside my stained window and hope for Jongin to show up. I wanted to go to Miss Kwon's house and ask about his whereabouts, but I wasn't allowed to leave my room except to use the restroom.

And I felt like I was in prison before.

My mom came into my room more than ten times a day. My dad didn't want to do anything to do with me.

I had hours to just sit on my bed and wonder whether or not my decision of running away was worth it. I came to the conclusion that those few, short days I had with Jongin of happiness and freedom could not be taken back anyway.

Staying at home made me realize what happened all week in my household. I was never home to observe what my mom did around the house when no one was around. I was always out with Jongin. Dad was gone all week for work. He left without a word even before the sun rose but unlike the times when mom was in the mental hospital, he actually called every now and then and came home every week instead of every month.

My mom's day consisted of constantly surrounding herself with people. She would invite the neighborhood women over for tea and these little cookies that she bought from the neighborhood store. The cheap cookies were only ninety-nine cents for a whole bag of 100 and the women praised those cookies just because they were on some fancy chinaware that my parents inherited from their parents when they got married.

They would come over in dresses and laugh and beam their little fake smiles. They would put in their imputs of "I agree"s and "I totally understand"s and then go home when it was time for them to cook up dinner for their perfect tightly-knit families. I couldn't even imagine what kind of trash they would say behind my mom's back. "She's crazy", "Her daughter ran away", "Her husband doesn't even love her. He's never home."

I hated her yes, but regardless, she was still my one and only mom.

The only loyal friend was Miss Kwon but apparently she wasn't enough to fill that vacant void in my mom's lonesome heart.

The whole day I would hear the hinged, peeling screen door open and close. Whether it was a neighborhood elder or the priest, she invited them in and talked to them about things they probably didn't care about. I wondered if my mom was just stupid and didn't notice that none of these people actually mean a word they say to her, or if she was just acting like they did care.

The only "loyal" person that I approved of other than Miss Kwon was the one lady who was forced to deal with my mother. Her mental caretaker.

The same old conversation would go on between the two. I figured that she was safe enough. If she hated my mom, she could just drop her as a client. Therefore, she was "loyal".

"Are you feeling less lonely?" The caretaker would ask.

"Kind of."

"Is your daughter being home helping your loneliness?"

"No. She's crazier than I am. She ran away because of some boy she barely knows."

"How about-"

"If you want to really do your job, go fix her, not me."

And then the caretaker would sigh and give up and come knocking on my door. Every single day. The caretaker must think that I'm some crazy child from the information that my mom provides her.

"She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she just looks out the window waiting for that boy," I could hear my mom saying through my closed door.

It's the truth, but the way she said it made the whole situation sound more serious than it actually was.

After the second day of the knocking, I let the caretaker in my room, reminding myself that I wasn't totally heartless. I was thirsty and parched for some indication that the social world outside of my room was still going on well without me anyway.

When I let the caretaker in, I locked the door behind me. I didn't want my mom to walk in.

Because I could totally see her doing something unnecessary like that.

Although I had heard the caretaker's voice a billion times but it was the first time that I actually saw her face. It seemed like I already knew her just by her talking. She was sweet and pretty. I don't know what she was doing in my room other than the fact that my mom told her to fix me up. But when I asked, she said that she just wanted to talk.

The caretaker and I found ourselves talking for hours and besides Jongin, she seemed to be one of my only friends. Her name was Yehna. She was 25. She was married. She had a baby boy who had just turned 15 months. And she too fell in love.

Other than her life stories which I found very interesting, I learned other things from Yehna.

I learned that there are people in the world that understand you. Whether it's through mother's mental caretakers or through social networking sites or whatever. Even if it's the darkest time of your life, you're never alone. I learned to stop regretting and rethinking every single move I make in life and dream for myself without looking back.

And when I stopped to think, I realized that I learned all of this already from Jongin. I just hadn't really started to do everything he told me to. I felt like I had to put my life on pause while he was gone so he could be there to see my progress.

From Yehna, I also learned that my mom was taken out of the mental hospital because her being away from the family and in that mental hospital wasn't doing her any good. She would cry every day and apparently even if dad was never home, her coming back to a familiar home healed her somewhat.

I didn't know that.

It kind of killed me inside to know that even though I hated her, we were the same way.

I don't like change and neither does she. She wants to be close to my father even if he's never here, like Jongin. But unlike Jongin and I, my mom and dad weren't together anymore. They had a divorce. They legally have nothing to do with each other.

Mom just wanted to erase that from her mind.

And I felt upset that I wasn't doing anything to help her as a daughter. Even if I was upset that she wasn't there for me as a mother, I couldn't pay her back childishly by not being there for her.

But one thing I did not understand was why my father let my mom into our house again, knowing that she would cause mishap. According to him, he doesn't love her anymore and doesn't want anything to do with her. It confused me. Why did he come home every week when my mom was home and call every other day if he doesn't love her? Was it the guilt?

Why did they sleep on the same bed again?

Truthfully, I was waiting for the bubble to pop and for another huge fight to erupt. The acting of two people that don't love each other can't go very far.

Other than my mom meeting with five billion different people a day to tend to her loneliness, something else changed in my household. I don't know if this happened every day when I was out with Jongin, but Baekhyun visited my house.

All the time.

And I started to wonder if he was visiting because he had nothing else better to do, or if he seriously cared for my mother. Or something else.

I wanted to ask him, but I decided that it would be rude. Surprisingly, he was the only one that was allowed in my room other than Yehna and he was the only one that could talk to me without my parents going insane. Even when Yehna came to talk with me, my mom would ask what we talked about as if we were secretly planning to murder her in her sleep.

Anyhow, I didn't understand what was so great about Baekhyun. Maybe it was because I was still head over heels in love with Jongin. But my mom loved Baekhyun  even more than she loved her own daughter.

When I decided to go easier on my mom after my talk with Yehna, mom decided for herself that I had "opened up". So she wanted to do some mother-daughter "bonding time" and started by asking me what I thought about Baekhyun.

I wasn't dumb.

Baekhyun likes me and my parents like Baekhyun. He doesn't smoke like Jongin used to and he doesn't have a potty mouth like Jongin does.

I finally understood. My parents didn't like Jongin because he got in the way of things and made me "impertinent".

But to me, it was Baekhyun that got in the way of me and Jongin; not the other way around.

"Hana."

"Yeah?" I turned to look, even though I knew who it was at the door. I heard that voice every single day. Baekhyun stood there with a smile, his hand waving to me. I nodded at him.

He invited himself in.

"How are you today?" he asked.

"Same as yesterday, Baekhyun," I replied. I kept my steady gaze out the window. Nothing changed. The breeze would flow every once in a while and sometimes someone would walk down the street. But other than that, no sign of Jongin and no sign of anything in Miss Kwon's house.

Five days had passed already since I was captured and locked up in this fortress. Five days without Jongin.

There was hell and then there was my room.

"You're a funny girl," Baekhyun responded with a laugh. I scoffed. I didn't hate Baekhyun. He was sweet. In fact, he was on my list of people to invite to me and Jongin's wedding. We were friends. But I didn't want to lead him on. And I didn't want him ruining my pensive mood.

"Thanks."

"I miss you, Hana," Baekhyun gave me a small pout.

I made a face. Jongin would never pout like that.

"What are you talking about, I'm right here," I laughed to cover up my previous disgusted face.

"Yeah, but Jongin kind of influenced you..." Baekhyun's voice trailed off into a small whisper when I whipped my face around to face him with daggers in my eyes.

"What?"

"We're friends right?" he asked. Baekhyun tugged nervously at my wrinkly white bed sheets. My eyes shifted to his fingers and he stopped, putting his hands in his lap.

I nodded. Friends.

"I'm telling you this as a friend- but I think you need to stop waiting for him. Your parents like him very much anyway. I don't like him very much."

"Baekhy-" I started, trying to tell him to "get the hell out" in the most simplest way possible. Even through this mess of emotions, I chuckled inside. Jongin? He influenced me alright. But in a good way. In the most beautiful way possible.

"-Just think about it for me, yeah?" Baekhyun whispered. I frowned. The atmosphere was odd. Maybe he felt it too. Maybe the thick atmosphere in my room was the initiative of his next action. He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips swiftly. Lightly.

"Bye."

I stared at him, speechless, as he walked out my door, shutting it closed gently as if nothing happened. 

I shifted my glare to the mirror to see a distraught girl with long, dark disheveled hair and a shocked expression. Teeth clenched, knuckles white. My cheeks were flaring red in anger. I could see my chest rise and fall abnormally with my quickened heartbeat. My red, violated lips were slightly apart, trying to comprehend what just happened.

A hot tear fell from my eye.

I wanted Jongin.

--

i was in a very good mood today so i decided to update whut whuuuut ✌ 
(although this chapter was not that very action packed i am proud of it)
xx have a blessed day!