The next morning, I took a pill. I sported the usual long sleeves and jeans look, combed my hair and took deep breaths. I felt slightly better, but unsure because it could be because it was the end of the long week or the pills. I put on a little powder over my already pale face just to cover up any blemishes. If only I could cover up my frown with something.

In class, I payed more attention and became slightly enthusiastic. I had the guts to answer a few questions, even without the teacher calling for me. I was confident too. A few times, I saw Jiyong glancing back with a smile on his face. Maybe the pills releases large amounts of endorphins. I went along with the euphoric flow of the day all the way until period change.

I walked out of class talking to some girls about an equation that they did'nt understand. I waved them off and proceeded to my locker. Stacking books and cleaning up the mess before the next bell. I was actually looking forward to class. 

"Hey Dara." Jiyong leaned on his locker, facing me. "You're happier today. You look beautiful too, I--"

"Really? Is that what you're saying to other girls too? You know what? I bet they're dumb enough to believe the that you say. Too bad for you I don't fall to sweet words. You think you're so big-shot and popular that you can leave and enter people's lives like nobody's business. Get a ing life, Mr.Popular. " By then, I realised all the words I had just rattled off. I sounded like the mean girls. A wave of fear washed over me as he reacted to my words.

"Okay. Sure. So much for thinking you were nice." he breathed before brushing past by me. 

The bell had rung and everyone was scurrying back to class. Screeching sneakers and hallway chatter died down. The doors to classes slammed shut and I was the only one in the hallway except for some delinquents and the school janitor.

What have I done?

But still, I went to class. People were nice to me and it was nice while it lasted, but it felt different after what happened with Jiyong. It was still haunting me that I was being so rude to him.

I saw him after school. He was walking alone, head bowed down. He completely ignored her and walked the other way as soon as he looked up to see me. He walked fast. I chased him.

"Ya, Jiyong! Wait up! I'm sorry okay, Jiyong!" I called out to him.

He turned around, his eyes bloodshot and he had this uninviting aura. 

"God, Dara! You know how pretty you were today? Your attitude messed up the whole thing. Why are you being like this to me?"

My heart jumped at the way he said 'pretty'. 

"Jiyong, please listen to me. I am sorry for how I acted. I took some prescription pills today to control myself and that was purely pent-up rage. I am so sorry. "

"Okay, okay." he breathed, running his fingers through his hair. "What pills is it?"

"Fluvoxamine."

"Oh. The side effects are extreme though. Uh, Dara, I'll try to understand. Take care. " Jiyong replied me coldly before leaving me again.

It's all my fault. Me and my stupid mouth. I've hurt him and despite what I did to him, he tries to understand. I went for counselling and therapy but the following days still felt out-of-place. Sure, I was getting frequent acknowledgement by schoolmates and constant answering of questions but I still felt lonely. Jiyong and me weren't talking anymore and it stings everytime I see him chatting away. Even though his smile finds a way to infect me, I still feel empty. Fluvoxamine is one of the worse drugs I took because it's true, the effects are so extreme. At first, it calms me down quickly. Right after that, I can't stop laughing in art class and was told to leave. From there, I get depressed and the dose goes up again. Three more calm days in school are followed by a sudden burst of break down and cursing infront of friends. I can't sleep and it is making me crazy.

I was lying down in bed and letting my thoughts wander. Then I realised the craziest thought. Maybe I was in love with Jiyong. Maybe why I felt empty was because he wasn't there to share my happiness. I felt lonely without him. His prescence was enough to make me feel okay. But I brushed the thought away. I deny it. Nobody would ever return love to a broken girl like me, the girl with scars.

I went to the psychologist's office the next day. My anxiety bubbled in the pits of my stomach as I walked straight up to a more nicer environment this time, sunlight penetrating through the windows and a few more people in the waiting room. I sat on the cold grey row of chairs, fiddling with my hands. The door said "Dr. Lee Chae Rin." Somehow, the high proffesion calmed me down. Rest assured, I'm on the road to recovery in the hands of the proffesional. Positive vibes, Dara, positive vibes. 

Soon, it was my turn to enter. A neat-looking assistant called my name and as if on cue, my heart banged protestingly in my chest.

Hands on the knob, I breathed in before knocking the door.