Chapter LIV:

It's Over

00:00 AM KST

Wearing a loose gray tank top and a pair of surfer’s shorts, Kim Jaejoong intoxicated his self. Despite the rugged clothes, he was still a sight to behold as his fair skin appeared to glow under the moonlight and hair rustled against the caressing wind. Even the most mundane of times seemed like a photoshoot with this guy. Yet the celebrity didn't want an audience right now. He needed time to think. 

Bom had insisted he come to the party, and yet somehow, he found himself hiding in an isolated bar outside the venue, drowning his self with the alcohol instead of socializing. He didn’t know exactly why he was drinking. Maybe it was to blur the reality from his self; to forget his blasted feelings and enjoy the blissful sense of foggy detachment. Or perhaps, he simply wanted to do some other thing than dragging his self into a place he rather not want to be in. Going to the party meant another hour spent watching Dara and Donghae interact with each other, another damn fruitless hour of convincing his self that the woman didn’t love that man, and failing a hundred times over. 

For the nth time, he cursed himself in coming to this place. What was he actually trying to prove by coming here? That he could still snatch Dara away from her supposed boyfriend? Whatever determination he had earlier seemed to leave him when he realized that he was all wrong. It was painful to admit, yet Dara seemed to be adjusting perfectly with Donghae. Just when he thought she wouldn’t be able to forget Jaewon, there came the man stealing her heart faster than he could ever come back to her life. Honestly, he shouldn’t blame Donghae for the heartache pestering him for weeks. He was a good man; Jaejoong was sure about that. Lee Donghae had the same guileless passion and sensitivity of his twin brother—something Jaejoong had always envied about Jaewon. Maybe that was why Dara found it easier to love Donghae.

But it felt so unfair.

Jaejoong was the first one to meet Dara, the first one to love her and yet she fell in love with his twin brother. For Jaewon, he tried accepting his bitter fate. But now, after the years of sacrifice and self-restraint, his feelings never changed for the lawyer. He damned the heavens for making it difficult for him. Why the heck couldn’t he just forget about Dara? There were millions of other choices, for God’s sake, why couldn’t he move on from this one woman?

Because there can never be another Sandara Park in this lifetime.

Damn it all. He took another swig from his bottle of gin. God damn, the vile thing tasted so awful. Disgusting. And yet he relished the fiery sensation blazing a trail down his throat and into his belly.  Jaejoong could feel the heat of it, peeling off the tissue of his esophagus. He welcomed the all too familiar flame. Having a full awareness of his high alcohol tolerance, the man drank more and more, pressing his back against the counter and stared at the sky, marveling at the way the stars swirled and twinkled around him.

Why was the universe so unfair to him?

He did have so many things; luxury, fame, power, talent. But the very thing he truly desired was someone as unattainable as the stars above him. His thoughts then wandered at the moment when he held Dara earlier during the fashion show—the feel of her body beneath his palms, her scent, and her warmth. It all turned his self-control into a feeble rope, splintering and unraveling until it was hanging by a thread. All it took was an inch closer and he’d be claiming . God, it almost drove him insane just by staying there, unmoving, but he restrained himself, and acted as the professional that he was.

Jaejoong closed his eyes for a minute, recalling the image of Dara's pale skin, the lines and indents of , and the way she breathed heavily beneath his lips. Holy damn, she was so beautiful. Did Donghae have any idea how lucky he was to have her in his arms? To have all the freedom in this world to marvel at the idea of her existence? He opened his eyes then, and, to his surprise, saw a woman standing over him, leaning over the edge of his horizontal periphery. Jaejoong couldn't find his voice momentarily at the sight of Sandara in front of him, looking like a lost princess in her pink dress.

“Mind if I join you?”

The man merely groaned as response and she settled on the stool beside him, took the bottle from his hand, and drank.

What kind of joke was this?

The very subject of his reasons to avoid the party was there right now sitting beside him, cluelessly invading his bitter solace. What a cruel cruel joke.

Despite himself, Jaejoong schooled his voice to neutrality. “Had enough of the party?”

Without a glance, Dara simply muttered an idle “You could say so,” and kept her stare fixated at the ocean. Jaejoong noticed that she had long abandoned her shoes, her hair uncharacteristically a dark mess—it could be due to the rustling wind, or the aftermath of frustratingly trying to pull her hair off. Jaejoong believed the prior.  

Behind them the sounds of merriment continued; a cacophony of activities muffled by the crashing waves of the ocean, and the howling wind as it blew against their skin and hair. For a good amount of minutes, the two didn't say a word to each other. Frankly, Jaejoong preferred this comfortable silence. He didn't try asking why she was there outside and why Donghae wasn't with her, and instead, Kim Jaejoong kept his gaze at the lawyer, his eyes tight and mouth drawn. He watched with a gradual sense of alarm as she indulged herself with the alcohol, consuming the vile liquid like it was water and she was horribly thirsty. Dara drank until all that was left was an empty vessel of his supposed escape from the reality.

Jaejoong didn’t say a word when she returned the bottle to him. He simply narrowed his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, suddenly bothered by the behaviour of his—drunken—friend. What an unusual sight. Being a woman who always had an absolute control over herself, she seemed very…out of it. There was something odd about the way she carried her self tonight and it confused him. When did she become such a heavy drinker? What was she so desperately trying to find at the bottom of the bottle?

In his own pondering silence, Jaejoong kept observing.

Her cheeks were now slapped into reds and pinks and Dara straightened from the stool and started wobbling away. But when Jaejoong thought she was about to return to the party, the woman stopped short and stood closer to the ocean, staring aimlessly at it as if searching for the ever-elusive-inner peace on its sparkling surface, and failing, again and again. She crossed her arms over her chest, and blew a shuddering breath. For ten solid seconds, Sandara remained rooted on her spot, seemingly forgetting the existence of Jaejoong, and his eyes lingering on her. Then she took another breath, lifting her eyes up toward the night sky. Her expression changed, the subtle signifiers of vulnerability imperfectly repressed, and somehow, Jaejoong understood.

From an onlooker’s eyes, the sight might seem like a simple, silent exchange, a conversation, between the woman and the stars burning from millions of miles away. But in Kim Jaejoong’s eyes, the sight meant so much more than a conversation—it was a plea to the heavens, a desperate begging from a woman who was lost and needed help. He understood, because Jaejoong knew that look. He had been staring at the sky the same way she did now as he begged the stars for a perfect timing, for the chance to be loved by that very same woman. 

But what could Dara be possibly thinking right now? Why did it feel like his friend was struggling to keep her control over an internal wound? 

Perhaps—

Jaejoong approached. “How often does it happen?” he asked, disrupting the silence between them.

The question earned him a baffled look from the woman as Dara tucked a few stray of locks behind her ears—the simple gesture done in a strangely graceless manner.

“How often does what happen?”

Jaejoong’s stare was unwavering. Searing. “Your panic attacks.”

“I don’t have panic attacks.” Dara said without missing a beat. If he didn’t know better, Jaejoo