You pull out your apartment card key and wait until the light on the door turns green before pushing the handle down and opening the door for yourself.  The curtains inside were drawn, and it was pitch dark when you came in.  Seeing a staff pass by, you call out.

“Sir, excuse me,” You peek out of your apartment.

“Yes?” He turns to face you.

“How do you turn on the lights? The switches aren’t working,”

“You, um,” He looks at the card in your hand and points at it.  “May I?”

“Oh, sure,” You hand it over to him.

“You see the arrow here?” He points at the surface of the card with the apartment’s logo on it.  “This part is the upper part.  You remember how you opened the door with this? You can also use this to make the lights go on and the switches work well.  Only, now the arrow must be positioned downwards, when you put it into this box here,” The staff pushes the card into a slot in the ‘box’, and immediately, all the lights in the room go on.

“Omo,” You squint in surprise.

“That simple,” He chuckles at you.  “Anything else?”

“No, thank you, thank you very much, I’m sorry for troubling you, I’m kind of new at this stuff,” You shake your head and bow at him as he bows at you, closing the door behind your back as you see him disappear around the corridor’s corner.

“How does this thing even do that?” You mumble to yourself as you try pulling out the card, only to jam it back in as the place goes pitch dark.  “Time to get to know your own house better, Jung Aeri,”

The apartment is meant for only one person, because there is only one bed and two extra ones behind a built-in cupboard inside the bedroom.  It’s very, very spacious, probably because you’re used to living in such a cramped up space you call home.  The floors are mostly carpeted, the bathroom (the awesome, luxurious one with a whirlpool bath tub) and the kitchen (so pretty) as an exception.  The living room had a TV put up on the wall, with a soft couch facing it, the thick, fuzzy carpet at its foot.  Glass doors cover half of the apartment’s right side wall, leading out to a veranda.  You hop out and stare out to the distance, smiling at the gentle breeze that blows your hair out of your face.  The sun sets far out there, casting its red-orange light upon everything it touches.  The buildings, the little houses, the roads, the trees, bustles with activity and yet you’re there, in silence.

Your smile goes away as your eyes run through a row of little houses.  You’re reminded of your own house.  Kyungwoo.  Yumi.  It’s only been 2 days since you last seen them and yet you’d kill a person to see them right now.  To take them here to live with you, to let them sleep in those soft beds and have their own pillows, to just tell them what situation you’re in and to just hug them, keeping them safe in your arms. 

And Lay.  How it hurts you to think that when you finally can see him, you can’t touch him as you do, you must keep your distance with him and you must not speak to him.  You can only talk to him and not go further. 

The familiar pain pierces your head again and you clutch at it, crumpling onto your knees on the veranda.  You regulate your breathing pattern to calm yourself down and lift your head up from your knees, slowly standing up as the pain subsides.  You need a rest.  You need a rest and you need to prepare yourself to face tomorrow.

You find new clothes in the walk-in closet the apartment has and without anymore thoughts change into a pair of pyjamas, and tuck yourself under the blankets although it’s still very early in the night.

You refuse to admit it, but there it goes.

98 days left.