I automatically curled my knees in to cover my face as Daehyun left my side.

“Youngjae,” Jaebum sounded exhausted, as if he’d spent the past nights we hadn’t met in mute agony; but that surely wasn't possible, “sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

Would it have made a difference had he come to put me out of my misery earlier? Probably not. But perhaps back then, earlier, I would have been more aware of my surroundings than I was now. Perhaps back then, I would have never allowed myself to lower my guard as Daehyun had made me so accustomed to doing.

Maybe back then, I would have been able to escape him instead of falling straight into my own doom.

“Can you …… can we talk later? I don’t want to …” The words caught at my throat. I knew too well he was going to break up with me. Nothing was going to be alright anymore.

I loved him.

Despite all that had happened, despite the fact that he loved Jiyeon more than he would ever me, I wanted to believe that there was still a chance for me. I didn’t want to lose him.

I’d thought that maybe if I worked hard to avoid him, he wouldn’t be able to break up with me. For one more day (one more second), I would be able to (technically) stay in a relationship with him. In my screwed up mind, I could continue my fairy tale.

I wanted to continue loving him, as screwed up as that may be.

“Youngjae, please.”

“No!” I cut him off. I was screaming by now (I hadn’t noticed), tears clouding my vision (not that I had been looking at anything anyways). “Please, just leave Jaebum. I don’t want to talk to you.” I wanted to stay in my screwed up delusion forever. Couldn’t you give me at least that?

“Youngjae!” His voice made me wince. I’d made him mad. “Youngjae, please, we have to talk.”

He had softened after the first snap, but it didn’t keep me from openly sobbing. I’d somehow wished that Daehyun would hear me from the hallway and come to save me from this. I wasn’t ready for any of this.

Please don’t wake me up from my screwed up fantasies.

By the soft grunt that sounded beside me, I assumed Jaebum had taken his seat next to me. I could imagine him awkwardly picking at the hem of his shirt – he was wearing his soccer team uniform –, pulling at the seams and loosening the knit. It had always been of his bad habits to pull apart his clothes when he was nervous. Looks like he hadn’t been able to fix it yet.

“Please don’t do this, Youngjae.”

Those were the words that I wanted to say. He’d stolen them right out of my mouth.

“I really don’t want to break up with you.” Jaebum seemed to consider his words carefully, chewing over them in the silent minutes that passed. “I, I didn’t mean to push you away.” I stiffened and his hand came to rub the small of my back, just the way he knew would make me melt. “Jiyeon wasn’t supposed to show up that day.”

Of course she wasn’t. Imagine what your girlfriend would say, had she known that you were out flirting with your ex.

my breath, and my nonexisting courage, I dared myself to look up, staring my red eyes into Jaebum’s calming brown ones. “Tell me something Jaebum, who is Jiyeon to you. What am I?”

“Youngjae, don’t.”

I hardened my look. I needed this. I wanted, no, needed, for him to tell me that I was more important. That Jiyeon was nothing.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

I choked. Again, I’d been wrong.

All over again, my world was shattering.