Opening my eyes, I listlessly stretch out my limbs, to gradually sit myself up. A tired yawn now comes out of me, as my dazed self goes to adjust my sight to the early morning rays. I let a few seconds pass by, just before pushing myself out of bed, and then into the bathroom. My hand now reaches out for the single toothbrush inside the cabinet, for me to proceed into my daily morning routine. As soon as I'm finished with that, I then quietly head out into the kitchen, to make something for me to eat. And because a minor piece of me is still quite accustomed to eating with someone else, I accidentally end up preparing a bit too much breakfast for me alone, to eat.

I frown at my mistake, and then mutter a couple of curse words—a week has passed by, and I still haven't been able to get myself used to this.

Ridding any thoughts about him from my mind, I now force myself to focus on eating. I can't help but notice just how awfully quiet it is as I do this, with the ticking of the clock, as the only other sound that accompanies my soft chewing. After my third bite of some rice, the silence eventually itches me into flicking on the television. I'm hoping that whatever is on right now can somehow distract me, and it actually does. Although it's not the exact kind of distraction that I want, because it happens to be a Japanese drama—something about boys and flowers.

And I'm now groaning to myself, not because I can't understand it, but I'm grumbling, because it's making me think about a certain someone, who used to act as my translator.

"Huh?" I blurt out. "You understand Japanese?!"

The blonde nods his head at me once more. "Yeah, I told you before," he says, with a pout. "I knew you weren't listening to me, even though you said you were."

My eyebrows crease together, as I quickly switch the channel to something else.

"—and it's that time of the year again, where our tickets are being lowered down, to some incredibly cheap prices!" announces a rather enthusiastic male. "Where would you like go, Hana-sshi?"

"Paris!" exclaims a girl, with shoulder length hair. "I want to visit the Eiffel tower, and take lots of photos with it."

At the mention of the famous attraction, something else now flashes inside my head.

“I’ve been here!” he proudly states.

A photo of the Eiffel Tower decorates the front cover, and that’s when I realise that it’s a book about France.

I force out a small (yet unsure) laugh, “Oh, really?”

“Really!” he chirps, and then points to a section of the tower. “I swear I stood right here!”

The memory makes me frown, as I mutter to myself.

Deciding that the silence is probably better, I now just resort to finishing off my breakfast in the stillness.

So a week has passed by, and I'm still learning how to cope. It's actually not so bad, if I just keep telling myself that we're better off without each other. I also find that if I keep myself busy, then my mind temporarily stays away from him—I just have to train myself, to revert back to how I used to think, before he had come into my life, and changed everything up. So far, I've managed to keep my feelings separated from my work, so that's something that I'm pleased with. Although, there was that one time, where I had to serve this male with very similar features, because when he showed me a smile, my composure had almost slipped, with how identical his eye-smile was.

There was also that other time, when Woohyun's best friend, Sunggyu, had become unwell, and due to his sickness, Woohyun had called for my assistance. I was more than happy to help out, but when I came to realise that the ballad song we were singing had relatable song lyrics, it touched my heart more than it should have. My eyes were slightly wet during the performance, but I managed to convince Woohyun that it was for the audience—that it was for ‘show’. It was bad enough that my expression was on the verge of crumbling, but my eyes had also been scanning the crowd, for the one individual that these sad lyrics were making me think of.

After those two incidents, I then came to the conclusion that maybe this whole thing with me trying to forget him, would be much easier, if I had packed everything away in the first place. There are still traces of him around the apartment that I haven't been able to remove, because of how I had been immersing myself in anything that didn't make me think of him too much. I managed to pack away the main things though, such as the pillow and blankets that he had slept with, and his toothbrush—his clothes are still in my closet, so I have to figure out a place to eventually put them.

So with this goal in mind, of cleaning out my apartment, this is what I decide to do with my Saturday.

Instead of resting, I dedicate this day off from work, to properly clean the place. After eating, I do the laundry, wash the dishes, fold the clothes, and then finally vacuum the floor. It's exhausting, and even though the tiredness of the chores should be making me think about wanting to rest, it doesn't. Instead, it makes me think of how I should be tidying the place with someone else, and not by myself. For example, when I go to do the laundry, it makes me think of the time where he had ruined the washing machine. Or when I was washing the dishes, it made me think of how we would be doing this together, with him scrubbing, and me rinsing.   

It makes me unhappily sigh to myself, with just how even the smallest things, can trigger a thought about him in my mind.

And so because of that, I've now moved on, to cleaning out a drawer of mine, to try and busy my head with this crazy pile of paper. I can see that it's filled with a lot of receipt scraps, and as I sort out what to throw or keep, I find myself pulling out a slightly crumpled sheet, with music lyrics on it. The familiar handwriting makes my heart skip a beat in recognition, and when I smooth it out, to look at the name that's inscribed next to a doodled Matoki bunny, a yawning ache, is felt in my chest. It makes me question when he wrote this, but as I go to read out the lyrics, my expression gradually softens.

Every single day changes because of you
I feel like I’m on a quick train every day
Please don’t get mad
Whatever you say, I’m your Superman
I can do anything for you
I won’t ever let you go
Please don’t get mad
Please don’t suddenly snap at me

I laugh a little; I wasn’t always yelling at him, was I?

But after a moment or two, my giggle eventually turns into a sorrowful frown, as I slowly set the paper down onto the side.

I allow myself to sit there in silence for another second, just before forcing myself to carry on with the rest of the cleaning.

———————————————

With my grocery bag in one hand, and my what-to-buy list in the other, I mentally tick off the list of things that I had just bought. Everything is in here, but I can't help but feel as though I've forgotten something. It can't be shampoo, because I still have two or three bottles at home...could it be eggs? I think about that for a bit, and then shake the possibility off. The other day, I had bought a new carton of eggs, so it couldn't be it. It's not rice either, since I still have half a huge bag of it at home, to last me for quite a while. This probing feeling is making me frown, but because I can't figure out what it is, I just end up slipping my note into the bag of food.

The noisy sound of a blender makes me look up, and when I see an assortment of fruits being blended together from up ahead, it then finally hits me.

Juice!

I've been meaning to restock the fridge with some juice, but I always tend to forget about it, because—

"Yah, I bought that juice for you," he snappily announces.

My eyebrows furrow, as I then redirect my attention back over to him. "Yes, and your point is?" I monotonously say.

He lets out a scoff. "That I bought it for you," points out the blonde, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And only for you.".

Shaking that thought out of my head, my feet now briskly take me away from the juice bar up ahead, and into the nearest coffee shop instead.

I've walked past this place quite a number of times, but have yet to try their beverages. It's a cosy looking place, filled with a sweet atmosphere, that I'm hoping is enough to make me forget about the memory that has just appeared in my head, from out of the blue. My eyes are now scanning through the list of drinks available, from the menu boards up on the wall, as I slowly make my way over towards the cashier. A friendly smile appears on her face when I reach the counter, and after giving her a polite smile of my own, that's when I decide to just stick to my regular order.

"Alright, so that's a tall vanilla latte," repeats the girl, as she presses a few buttons onto the machine. "Would you like anything else with that?"

I shake my head at her. "No, just that, thank you," I say.

"Sure thing," answers the worker. "Can I get your name, please?"

I'm about to tell her, when a certain drink in the corner of my eye, catches my attention.

"Actually," I promptly say. "Could I change my order into something else?"

The girl nods her head at me, and when I tell her, our transaction continues on smoothly.

As my drink is now being made, I busy myself with further examining the store, and the people within it. My eyes eventually flicker outside, and when I see a water fountain, my eyebrow lifts itself up slightly, from never seeing it there before. I try to figure out how I can possibly miss that, but don't get much of a chance, when I hear my name being called out. With my order in his hand, the male worker of the place, finally hands me my drink. I pick out a green straw, just before kindly accepting the dark coffee brown—almost black—beverage.

"Enjoy your iced Americano," says the male.

I show him my thank you with a courtesy nod of my head, just before exiting the place.

Now out in the open, I decide to take a seat on the edge of the fountain, to taste out my coffee. I'm not sure what made me want to go through with ordering this, as I'm supposed to not be thinking about him. But I have always been rather curious, as to why he likes this drink so much, and have actually made a mental note to myself, to try it at least once. I just never got around into doing that, until...well, now. I remember him speaking of this so highly, so a piece of me is having somewhat high expectations for this drink.

Although I think my expectations for it must have been too high, because as soon as the bitterness of the liquid coats my tongue, I grimace.

I'm now staring at the iced drink in my hand, with a disappointed frown on my lips—how does he drink this?

It's far too bitter for me.

Not knowing what else to do with it, (but not wanting to waste the drink) I continue to keep it with me, to occasionally have a sip of it every now and then. It makes me cringe, and the most I can take in, is half of it, as I sit against the soothing waters, of the fountain. My eyes now notice a couple on the far left, and when I see the girl take out her phone, to snap a photo of the two, I breathe out a sigh. Something in me makes me slowly set down my drink to the side, as I now go to pull out my wallet. My fingers are searching through the slots, wondering if I still have it, and when I see that familiar white edge, I then slowly pull it out.

This is our first (and last) photo together—

Our eyes are creased, as the huge smile on our faces, shows how we were screaming with laughter, throughout the whole rollercoaster. The happy expression makes me soften, because I think it's one of those rare moments, where we're (actually) both content with each other. This new thought makes me smile slightly, and, taking out my wallet, I then ask the worker there for a printed copy of it. The photo doesn't take long, and after I give her the money, I look at the Polaroid in my hands for another second longer, just before neatly tucking it away into my purse.

My shoulders sink a little, as I hastily reinsert the Polaroid back into my wallet.

I know I shouldn't keep this, but...a part of me can't seem to throw it away, just yet.

Taking the Americano back into my hold, I now stand up, and begin to make my way back home, to sort out my groceries. 

———————————————

Dinner goes by quietly, except for the part where I had managed to have the boiling hot soup, touch a bit of my fingers. The ladle had fallen over a little, and I couldn't pick it back up in time. My semi burn, keeps me preoccupied for a bit, as I slowly apply some ointment, while listening to the news on the television screen. I end up keeping it there for some small background noise, as I now go to give Subin a quick call, to see how she is. She doesn't work at the restaurant anymore, because she now models with Kris. I sometimes see them advertise some clothes from Matos, and it always makes me wonder if she's seen the person who delivers it to them.

"Why?" questions Subin's voice. "Do you know someone who works there?"

"No," I smoothly fib. "I was just curious, that's all..."

"Ah," hums her voice. "Speaking of Matos, did you hear? Apparently, the owner of the company has a son!"

My eyebrows knit together slightly, because I know who she's talking about.

"I'm not sure why it was never announced to the public before, because he's around our age," continues Subin. "He's also apparently the one who designed the jeans that I got to wear for a photo shoot just recently, so I'm really curious as to what he looks like."

A small, comforted smile makes its way onto my face—he seems to be adapting to his home already.

And the fact that Subin's chances of seeing him is much closer than my non-existent one, I feel a slight twinge of jealousy for her.

"You're lucky," reveals my quiet voice. "I envy you..."

Oblivious to the hidden message, I hear her chortle. "Yah, are you that curious of who this secret designer guy is, too?" she questions, in amusement.

"No," I truthfully answer. "What I'm saying is that I'm glad at least one of us has found our happy ending, and although I'm jealous, I'm really happy for you."

There’s a pause. "Aw, Yejin-ah..." mumbles Subin. "Why are you...? Hold up—" The volume of her soft voice, now increases. "This doesn't have anything to do with that guy, right?!" she frantically asks. "I distinctively remember you mentioning someone other than Yongguk, but you never really got around into telling me anything more than just this person being a guy. Did something happen between you two? Were you even seeing each other, to begin with?"

"Well..." I carefully murmur. "To put it simply, I think we just weren't meant to be."

The concerned tone of Subin's voice tells me that she's frowning. "What happened?" she gently queries. "Was it a mutual agreement, or...?"

"Um...sort of...?" I slowly say. "It's...kind of difficult to explain..." A miserable sigh comes out of me. "I really do wish we could fix this, but not seeing him anymore, is probably for the best."

"Hey, I'm really sorry to hear this..." says Subin. "But why didn't you guys try? You sound like you care about him a lot, and that's saying something, since you used to be so focused on Yongguk, and—"

"I will always love Yongguk," I find myself interrupting. "But my love for him is only something that is shared between two close friends, and nothing more."

A disappointed sound comes from Subin. "I know, I know," she drawls, in a airy tone. "It's a shame though, because he's so nice, and I will forever think that you two make the cutest couple."

Her nonchalant voice makes me smile a little.

"But yes, moving back on track with this mystery man—why couldn't you guys work something out?" she asks.

Melancholy outlines my features. "That's because he didn't want to..." I softly answer.

"What?!" exclaims Subin. "He didn't want to?!" The sound of her clicking her tongue in disapproval is now heard. "Yah, Seo Yejin," begins the older female, in that voice that tells me how she's not amused. "If he's not willing to fight for you, then he's not worth it." She continues on. "There are plenty of other guys out there, since there's like, what—five billion people, in this world, or something?"

"...I think its seven billion now?" I unsurely mumble.

"Well...yeah, anyway," says Subin. "There are a tonne of other guys out there for you to meet, and although you might still want this specific one right now, you shouldn't. For example, how about Director Kim's son? You know, that secret designer guy from Matos. He sounds like a hard worker, and hardworking people are nice. Like Yongguk—you should probably try to reconsider him again, or something. But because I know you won't, how about I snoop around, and find out more about the secret designer for you?"           

The contradiction in Subin's advice makes me laugh, but she mistakes my miserable response for amusement.

"Sounds good, yeah?" she prods. "You'll be thanking me, when he falls head over heels for you, and then proposes to you, over a candlelit dinner, or something."

At the mention of a dinner with candles, something suddenly appears in my mind.

When I'm out of the shower, and have finished blow-drying my hair, I then make my way back out, just in time to see him place down a steaming plate. He then eagerly beckons me over to take a seat, and when I go, my lips form into a circle of surprise, at how nicely the table is set out. Everything seems so perfect and spot on, that it makes me take my time, in examining every detail of it. He has even gone to the trouble of lighting up a cute candle to put on the side, and not only does it slightly warm up the area, but it also makes my heart squeeze in appreciation.

"Right..." I mumble out, with a sad smile.

Subin is somehow convinced with me wanting her to carry out with her plan, and I find myself shaking my head slightly at her.

"Yejin-ah, don't worry," she optimistically assures. "Just hang on a little more, because you will have your happy ending, too!"

The two of us talk for a little more, until the yawn that comes out of me, signals that I should be heading off to bed, so Subin and I plan out a catch up day, just before hanging up. I switch off the television, and then make my way over towards the bathroom. When I'm finished with washing up, my feet then lead me into my room, for me to gradually crawl into my bed. I lay there for a while, starring up at the ceiling in silence, until the vibrating sound of my mobile, snaps me out of my daze. Reaching out for my phone, I check the name of the caller ID for a second, just before answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey," greets Yongguk’s voice. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," I respond.

"Did I...wake you up...?" he carefully asks.

"No," I reassure. "You didn't; I was just getting ready to go to sleep."

"Ah," comes his relieved tone. "Well, I should let you rest then—"

I quickly cut him off. "It's fine," I say. "I'm not sleepy just yet, so yeah...is there something wrong?"

"No-no, there's nothing wrong," he assures. "I'm just...calling to check up on you, that's all. How was your day today?"

Turning my body onto the side, I now pull the blanket a little closer to my torso. "It was okay..." I quietly answer. "I went grocery shopping, and...cleaned out a few things that make me think of him."

Yongguk is silent, and I can't tell if it's because he doesn't know what to say, or if it's because he knows that I want to say more, and is waiting for me to speak.

So I go with the second option, to fill up the silence. "It's...actually not so bad..." I mumble. "I don't think about him much, because I keep myself busy."

A sigh is heard from the other end, and something about it, tells me that he knows I'm lying.

"Yejin-ah, you don't have to pretend to me that you're not hurting..." says Yongguk, rather softly. "These things don't heal so quickly, because if you're as fine as you say you are, then it means you didn't really love him. And since I know you did—and still do—then it means you're still upset."

I don't know what to say to this, so he continues speaking.

"I'm glad that you're not exactly locking yourself in your room, and never wanting to see daylight again," says Yongguk. "But I also want you to know, that you don't exactly have to force yourself to stay strong, because...it's okay cry."

And it's as though his words know exactly where to poke me, because my eyes are now wet.

Yongguk continues talking, in that kind voice of his. "I also never got to tell you this, but..." There's a minor pause, and it's probably because he's trying to figure out how to say what he's about to say. "Although he might have appeared to be really angry, and claims to never want to see you again, it's probably the complete opposite. People just tend to respond with anger, when they're deeply unhappy about something, because...telling someone that you're angry, is a lot easier, than telling them that you're hurt, right?"

The tears in my eyes are now slipping out of my eyes, and down onto my pillow, as I let out a small hum, to let him know that I'm listening.

Thankfully, Yongguk mistakes my soft response as me being tired, and so he eventually ends our call, to bid me goodnight.

I manage to echo those words back to him in a calm voice, but after setting down my phone to the side, I swallow down the lump in my throat, with a sniffle.

Could his heart be hurting just as much as mine, right now...?

And as if wanting to hurt me some more, a memory from out of the blue, appears in my mind, and it makes me bite down my trembling lip.

"I love you, Yejin, so of course I'm going to be sad, when I see you upset about something..."

A whimper escapes me, as I now turn my head over to the other side. My arm then stretches out, to feel the cold vacant space there, that could have been warm instead. It never actually hit me, that I could feel so alone on this bed, as I had always slept with it on my own, before. Everything about this apartment in general, now makes me feel really empty—like as though he had taken all of the life with him, when he decided to leave. And like in the beginning of this heartbreak, I can't seem to stop the tears from falling, as the only thing I can appear to do, is silently repeat my apology, over and over.

It's going to take a very long time, for things to go back to the way they used to be.

———————————————

A/N: At first, I was looking forward to writing about Yejin's heartbreak, but now that I've done it, I'm just kind of sitting here like :/ ...because guys, I've just ruined my baby, and I just :( !!! Sigh, my broken baby, you will be okay; I promise you and everyone reading this, to give you a happy ending!!! ;__; ...Yeah, I grow really attached to the characters that I make, so...yeah...LOL, anyway, it's really cute to see you guys upset for her too, and I just :'D I don't really know how to say it, but I'm touched? Hehe, and by the way, the story is slowly coming to an end, (maybe within 3-4 chapters?) so don't kill me just yet!!!! ...please LOL :'D

And I'm just wondering, but are you guys curious of how Himchan's doing?

Because the next chapter shows his side on things >:D