Listen♫

Kim Haejin’s POV

I hate to admit that I kept track. But I did.

It’s today. It’s already been three months.

“Eonni,” Haemi’s voice snaps me back to reality, “pass me that box, will you?”

I divert my gaze from the calendar on the wall of my parents’ home and pass her a box filled with her old notebooks. I take another box and seal it shut with duct tape. We’re almost done, only a few more to go, before we go.

I wonder if he still remembers.

They’re going through a lot. I saw on the media that they sued their company after it was revealed that our ‘engagement was broken’. He’s probably too busy and stressed out to even think of something as petty as our childish promise.

“I told you to pack earlier, but you procrastinated,” mother points out the obvious as she comes from the kitchen with a plate of cookies.

Haemi gives her a sheepish grin, playfully laying her head on her shoulder and taking a cookie, “I’ll miss you, eomma.”

I roll my eyes and take a cookie as well. We’ve been living with our parents for the past 3 months after we left the guys’ place; and yeah, I won’t deny that I’ll miss this. I didn’t live with my parents through my teenage years. The past 3 months sorta made up for that.

“You know, you can just continue your studies in Korea. You don’t have to travel so far.”

“Ma, we already talked about this. The university has already accepted me. And besides, I heard Canadians are nice people. You don’t have to worry. Aaaand besides, Haejin-eonni got a job there already. You don’t have to worry, she’ll take care of me, and I’ll take care of her.”

“And maybe Haemi will bring back a Canadian son-in-law for you,” I add on. Haemi threatens to duct-tape my mouth shut. I have been very happy living here, away from the city, but I guess starting over in a foreign country would be best. For the two of us; Haemi and I.

“You two hurry it with the packing. Your plane’s leaving at 9 tonight, right? Don’t procrastinate any longer. I’m going to the market for a while, and I expect you to be done by the time I come home, okay?” She pats our backs and left the house.

Tonight. Today’s our final day in Korea. I pick the edge of a box with my nails. Is there any possibility that he remembers?

“Eonni,” Haemi’s voice suddenly drops, “look.” She holds up a couple CDs with nothing written on them but smiley doodles. She hurriedly puts it in the CD player and switches on the TV.

I furrowed my eyebrows, too tired to watch some stupid show. “Ah, Haemi-yah, we don’t have time for this—”

My face is displayed on the screen.

My fringe is shorter in there. When was this? I focus on the TV screen, dropping everything I was doing.

It’s an awful close-up of my face. The me in the TV turned to the camera and made a