Aw, thanks guys! <3 

Anyway, this was meant to be a one-shot but it got too long so now I'm aiming for three chapters. I've only written up to here actually. Just sharing it because of your kind encouragements. 

Don't know when I'll be awake at 2am again :P  

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“Don’t you dare kill Taeyeon in your story,” Tiffany warned me, protective of Taeyeon even in the fictional world.

I folded the manuscript into half, thinking that I shouldn’t continue.

“You did, didn’t you?” Tiffany brought her palm to her forehead, her laboured breaths letting me know that this story had already done its damage.

What was I thinking?

I was a horrible person for making Tiffany relive her fears – playing with her emotions for something I could barely call art.

“I’m sorry.” I took her hand in mine. “I didn’t actually think this through.” I admitted, mentally berating myself. “What are you doing? It’s 2am!” I muttered as she pressed her phone to her ear.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” she murmured affectionately, already part of a separate conversation. “I just needed to hear your voice.”

I managed to fall asleep at some point – only to be woken up by the sensation of papers being pried away from my secure grasp.

“Nice try.” I whispered as I fastened my grip, startling the perpetrator. I opened my eyes and realised that it was still dark out, the time being displayed was 2:43 am. It was barely a nap.

“I still want to know the ending.” Tiffany insisted. “I don’t care how we get there.”

I sighed, having decided to comply.

***

“Fall out of love, right now.” I demanded in the most juvenile fashion.

Tiffany gaped at me, incredulous.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” she stuttered, tears b in her eyes.

“I am on your side.” I stood my ground firmly. Tiffany needed to understand that love was messy and sometimes ugly and potentially destructive. “She might die.” I stated the facts, devoid of emotion.

“There’s a 6% chance of that happening, jerk. There’s a higher possibility of me murdering you right now.” Tiffany said as she stormed out of the room.

***

“That was our first fight ever.” Tiffany traced her fingers along the last sentence of the page, frowning at the memory. “I was so angry. I wanted to move out.” Tiffany confessed.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you.” I shrugged. “I was being a jerk. But first loves are hard to get over, and I was convinced that you would be ruined for life if she was violently taken away from you when both of you were in love.”

“I couldn’t blame you then, and I definitely understand now.” Tiffany said, nodding against my shoulder. “Losing Taeyeon would damage me beyond repair.” She shuddered, picturing the worst. “You thought she loved me then? Because I wasn’t too sure.”

“I always thought she loved you more.” I divulged for the first time.

“Why?” she asked, in disbelief.

I assembled my thoughts into a coherent sentence and tried to express them in a way that Tiffany would understand, without her getting offended.

“You wanted to be happy with only her but she only wanted you to be happy.”

“That doesn’t mean that she loves me more.” Tiffany asserted.

‘That’s true.” I yielded, thinking that it was unfair to compare a selfish love with a selfless one.

***

“Break up with her.” I commanded with as much assertiveness as I could muster. With my shadow shading Taeyeon’s face, I felt a false sense of authority.

She looked up from her book and removed her headphones slowly, her expression inscrutable.

“I have,” she said softly. “Tiffany’s just not taking it seriously.”

“Try harder.” I insisted.

She bit her lip down so hard that I was afraid she would draw blood.

“Tell her you don’t love her.” I suggested, being my helpful self.  

“I don’t know how to make it convincing.” She replied, in a voice so beaten that I almost wanted to be her friend.

***

“You were so mean to Taeyeon.” Tiffany uttered disapprovingly. “If I had known you’d done that, we probably wouldn’t even be friends now.”

“That would .” I chuckled.

“Definitely,” she agreed.

***

Taeyeon had a tumour lodged in her occipital lobe. To remove it included the risk of permanent damage to her eyes - but it had to be done.

“How’s Taeyeon?” I tried to mask the concern in my voice.

“Afraid of shaving her head.” Tiffany replied light-heartedly. Despite it all, I have never seen Tiffany this happy. I would only pray that it would last.

“Are you afraid?” I pursed my lips, regretting my question. Of course she would be – even I was afraid for Taeyeon.

“I think she’ll look cute. Don’t you think?” She linked our arms and started skipping down the corridor. I had to quicken my pace to catch up, her arm bouncing uncomfortable against mine, dragging me forward.

“Yes, she would.” I replied, much later.

***

“I cried that night.” Tiffany admitted, her feet fidgeted against mine – as if she had opened a fresh can of nerves.

“I know. I heard you.” I confessed. We have been revealing a lot tonight – having a live commentary during a reading of our past. It’s just a story, I reminded myself. I truly believed that when I wrote it – it was merely decorated history.

Still, history nonetheless.

I made a mental note to stop calling it fiction.

***

The first time Taeyeon visited our dorm – I found her on my bed, blindfolded.

“Tiffany?” she called out.

“No.” I corrected her awkwardly.

She stiffened and removed the blindfold hastily, revealing her eyes.

“Sorry. Tiffany is trying to convince me that sight is overrated. She went to buy everything sweet I think.”

It sounded very much like something Tiffany would do.

She smiled – a smile brightened with sincerity and innocence – and I felt compelled to return the gesture.

“How long do you have?” I asked, clenching my teeth once the words left my mouth. “I mean, when is the surgery?”

“Three weeks.”

“Oh.” That was the only pathetic comment I could muster. I wanted to wish her Good Luck, but it already sounded lame in my head.

We spent the night in the room blindfolded – all three of us – listening to Bob Dylan while stuffing ourselves with a lavish variety of sweets.

It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable – But even when I couldn’t see them, I felt like I was intruding on something intimate. It was as though I was placed in a scene that I didn’t belong in. 

Hence I offered Taeyeon my bed, deciding to spend the night in another room instead, but I suspected it remained empty after I left.

***

“We made out in blindfolds. I think that should be a thing.” Tiffany burrowed her face into my arms and giggled at the memory.

“Do you still think it’s weird hanging out with the both of us?” she asked - after regaining her composure - her face flushed.

“It’s not weird.” I said, thinking that weird was the wrong word.

“I find myself extremely envious of what you both have.” I said. “You’re both so in sync – it’s effortless and effing beautiful.” I felt a surge of blood to the heart.

“You’re sweet.” She chuckled and placed a kiss on my cheek.

“I’m worried for Taeyeon.” I admitted as I lifted the papers to my face and covered my eyes.

“Me too.” She held onto me tightly.

***

I couldn’t take the rattling anymore.

Tiffany had spent the past 10 minutes flipping a coin and letting it land noisily on the wooden desk, disrupting my focus every few seconds.

“Please stop.” I begged.

“50-50.” She mumbled to herself as she tossed the coin higher into the air. “50-50 chance of losing her sight.”

I walked over and confiscated the coin.

“Give it back.” She ordered with an even voice.

I pocketed the coin defiantly.

That was when I witnessed Tiffany’s first breakdown.

***

“Technically, the second.” Tiffany stated. “You said you heard me cry the first time.”

“You’ve cried over Taeyeon way too many times.” I sighed.

“How is it that I’ve never seen Taeyeon cry?” she asked.

“I have.” I boasted, not exactly sure why I was feeling chuffed.

“Really? Is it in the story?” She extended her hands and I moved the manuscript slightly out of reach.

I flipped forward a few pages and found the part.

***

“I’m sorry.” She greeted me with an apology.

“Tiffany isn’t here.” I said dismissively, desperately wanting to work on my deadlines.

“I know.”

“Okay?”

We were standing at the door, going through some sort of push and pull that I wasn’t aware of.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Okay.” I decided to acknowledge her words.

“Do you want to come in?” I suggested, watching her feet shift apprehensively.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she shuffled into the room. She glanced around tentatively, as if our room was a foreign setting. 

“I broke up with Tiffany,” she confessed, fingers grazing the pictures of them that Tiffany had pasted on her wardrobe. “I was hurting her, so I told her I didn’t love her.”

I watched as tears trickled down onto Tiffany’s math notes.

***

Tiffany jumped out of bed immediately and the room lights, switching the ambience along with the lighting. 

She ran towards her desk in a hurry and started rifling through her notes.

“Which notes?” she asked frantically as she searched. “On that day… the breakup… Professor Hughes… no it was Professor Tang… Fibonacci… Euler’s theorem… it must be one of these…” she mumbled incoherently to herself.

“Tiffany.” I called out as I pressed my palms at the sides of my forehead.

You are such an idiot, my mind screamed.

“Tiffany.” I shouted, startling even myself.  

She allowed the bulky file to slip through her fingers and land on the floor with a loud thud. That was enough to snap her out of her mania.

“I didn’t believe her, of course.” She sighed as she leaned against the desk. “I’ve never seen her that devastated before.”

“She really loves you.” I said, mouth forming a tight smile. Tiffany needed to hear it, and Taeyeon doesn't say it enough. 

‘She does,” she echoed.  

“Your story is catching up with reality.” Tiffany announced, and held her breath.