You sigh, feeling the coming of a migraine approaching as you slouch against the wall of the ball room. The night had been everything you imagined and more, and all you wanted to do was go home, curl up in a ball and wallow in self-pity—the thing you’ve been so good at doing lately.

I shouldn’t have come, you think, rubbing your temples irritatingly. You knew that there were going to be people from your past that you didn’t want to confront. You knew that coming to this goddamn wedding would open old wounds and mentally exhaust you. But still, you came just to see the woman you love look stunningly beautiful in a wedding dress. I must be a masochist, you think, as a small and bitter smirk makes its way to your lips.

You shake your head and push yourself off the wall. You’ve had enough of this night. You were emotionally and mentally drained. Too bad you haven’t seen the bride and groom all night.

“Jonghyun!” the familiar deep voice startles you, and you instantly replace the sullen look on your face for the mask you detest so much. “Lee Jonghyun!” the voice repeats, getting closer. You turn around, an easy smile on your face.

But the mask slips for a second once his eyes fall on the woman standing next to the man. She is beautiful, but she always had been. Her hair, that used to be tied in twin braids, fell in waves that cascaded down her shoulders. The simple pure white dress accentuated her innocent beauty. Two thin straps attached itself to the heart-shape cut of the dress. Tiny crystal beads lined the top of the dress until in flared to the skirt that reached her ankles. She looked stunning, and you wish to hold her in your arms to tell her so.

You snap your attention to the man once more. He’s smiling, his left hand lightly gripping hers, and you feel sick to your stomach but refuse to let it show on your face. He lets go of her hand to give you a hug, and part of you feels horrible for feeling grateful that letting go of her hand. “Kyuhyun,” you laugh breathily, accepting the hug. He is your friend after all; you couldn’t just reject him even if he did marry the woman you love.

Kyuhyun laughs with you, only he’s more genuine. “It’s good to see you man! It’s been a couple of years already, hasn’t it?”

You smile, pulling yourself away. “Yeah, a good seven years after you graduated.”

“Soo here tells me you moved away before your last year. Where did you go?”

Soo. He called her Soo. The nickname you decided to call her first.

“Ah, my parents decided to move to Japan.”

That was your nickname for her. Yours.

“Japan? Man that’s cool. That’s was probably hard on you with the language, right?”

It wasn’t fair. She was supposed to be yours. She was supposed to fall in love with you. You were supposed to be the one who—

“Jonghyun lived there for a little while when he was younger, so he already knew the language somewhat.” The soft voice interrupted your train of thought, and you brought your attention to the tall woman in front of you.

Her posture is poised; nothing like how you remember when you were younger. A soft mature smile graced her face, and you could have fallen even more in love with her there. “Hi Jonghyun,” she grins at you and suddenly you feel like you’re seventeen again and she was that happy-go-lucky girl next door that taught you the joys of life.

“Hey Sooyoung,” you say softly, just loud enough for them to hear you. The music is loud and your headache should be getting worse, but everything seems better now that you’ve seen here.

But when Kyuhyun reaches for her hand to squeeze it, you are suddenly reminded that you are at their wedding. One of your best friends got married to the woman you love.

“Congratulations, by the way,” you force a perfect smile and they don’t notice. She grins at him and he smiles gently at her and your heart is shattering right there.

The DJ announces the final song and a slow number is put on. Kyuhyun lets go of her hand and looks at you expectantly. You blink not understanding until she laughs cheerfully and grabs ahold of your hand. You sputter look at Kyuhyun who only nods in understanding.

“B-But it’s the final dance,” you argue as she starts to drag you away to the dance floor. “Shouldn’t the two of you be the ones to dance the last dance together?”

Kyuhyun shrugs. “She’s been looking for you all night. Just give her this one dance, Jonghyun.”

In a daze you are dragged onto the dance floor and suddenly her hands draped around your neck and yours just above her waist. She is smiling up at you and look down at her in that same dazed expression you always seem to have when she is around.

“Hi Jonghyun,” she says again, this time quieter to match the slowness of the dance.

“Hi,” you say back simply. You were never a man of a lot of words, and she of course understood that.

You continue to sway her in a robotic fashion until she lays her head on your shoulder and sighs. You stiffen and she notices but doesn’t say anything. You continue to sway her as she rests her head on your shoulder when she says, “I really missed you Jonghyun.”

You mentally sigh, shutting your eyes. You breathe in her scent; lavender and lilacs, the scent you love so much. “I missed you too,” you say, a painful clenching constricting your chest. You want to tell her you love her. It’s physically killing you that you can’t.

You feel her smile in your shoulder that is when you can’t take it anymore and all those bottled up feelings start to spill. “Sooyoung—”

“I know,” she says. You freeze and she realizes that your dance is about to be cut short. She pries herself away from you and the look on her face is enough to kill you there. “I always knew.” She is looking at you with pity and this shouldn’t be what is happening, why is this happening?

For once in your life the mask completely slips off your face and the woman you are in love with is witnessing year of pain and anguish she caused and all she could do is give you a look of pity.

You are sick.

You are sick of yourself.

And as quickly as the mask is gone, it is back up and she is looking shocked. “Oh, I see,” you say, a chiseled smiled plastered on your face. It’s fake and terrible and you shouldn’t be smiling but you can’t stop because it’s a defense mechanism and you can’t do a damn thing about it. “If you know already, please excuse me.” You are using formal language and you could tell it hurts her but you don’t ing care because she just murdered you emotionally right there.

“Jonghyun,” she pleads, reaching a hand out for you. You dodge, of course, knowing that you’d breakdown in the middle of the dance floor if she touched you. You take your chance and glance at her, and she looks broken.

“Goodbye, Sooyoung,” you say leaving her alone on the dance floor just as the final notes of the song end.