His sweat pours out through his pores. His wife beater turns wet at the contact. Panting, he gasps for air before snapping his eyes opened.

That's right. She wasn't at fault. She wasn't at fault. She wasn't at fault.

Repeating the same sentence in his head, he wanders back to the proofs. The phone. Her phone. He went back to years before, to the day when he figured what the lock code was. It was his birth date. His birth date. 

He tried to break the code on the phone for weeks but to no avail. It was frustrating. His last resort was his birthday. Punching the number, he takes a deep breath.

980218

'Phone unlock.'

He blinks. It worked? Wasting no time, he starts to explore the phone. The phone that he explored for many times before. Opening the gallery, pictures of him with her pops. Many pictures of both of them together. There wasn't even a single picture of her alone. She wasn't the one to take selfies in the first place. 

Scrolling down, pictures of him fills his sights. Him dancing. Him laughing. Him talking. Him smiling. Him dancing. Again and again and again.

Bitterly laughing, he opens the messaging box. There were only two contacts. There were only two histories of messaging. His and Jisoo's. He scoffs. What the heck is this!

He reads his messaging first and her last text on the top. The sorry text she had sent before Jisoo and her kissed on the field. Down was filled with his texts that he sent to her. And below were theirs having random conversation. Finding nothing, he looks at Jisoo's. 

The texts was........weird? They were ta