"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive"
- Goo Goo Dolls

They'd known each other since five years ago, back in middle school.

She had been at the very top of the class, Im Yoona, the smartest out of all of the girls and boys at school. She had been the captain of the volleyball team, leading them to tournament after tournament, and the wall would be adorned with gold with every match. She had been the vice-president of the student council, sweet and loved by all; she wasn't good enough.

Lee Seunggi had been in her class since day one, following in her shadow. Unlike her, he hadn't been as good at his studies, nor did he do any sports. He preferred his video games and books to the outdoors. He'd been in the library club, spending hours after school sorting out books and locking up late at night. Seunggi had been the third to her first.

She never noticed him--

--At least, not until they were in high school, when he suddenly grew up from a little boy to a little man.

Much like a blooming flower, growing too big for his shirts and pants and shoes. And much like the gently blushing petals of a blooming flower, he attracted a myriad of bees and butterflies in the form of attention.

Yoona could still remember how she'd giggled at the sight of his ankles with her friends, and watched as Yuri told him that he was going to grow too tall for her one day. He'd looked at Yuri strangely, before asking, "What kind of guys do you like, then?"

Yuri had grinned, looked at him blatantly from head to toe. Letting her eyes linger on his lips, she then replied with a coy, "Take a guess", just as Yoona had blurted out, "Tall boys."

She hadn't been able to stop the urge to speak, slapping a hand over and feeling her cheeks turn a bright pink as her friends and Seunggi turned to look at her--and even before she could duck her head, shying away from the attention, Seunggi had sent her a smile.

She had wondered why he looked so differently then, his smile full of warmth when just earlier, consternation had been present.

"I'll keep that in mind, Yoona-ssi." He'd replied, letting out a laugh when Yoona's cheeks burned a brighter pink.

His eyes were gleaming, his hair was messy, there was a vermillion-red stain on his shirt that bespoke of having dropped kimchi--and she thought that he'd looked otherworldly, beautiful even, at that moment; pure where the world was starting to fade into the pale grey of corruption.

And so he'd grown, taller and taller, reaching high above where Yoona would never go.

His errant curls had been tamed by a brush and hairgel, his smile going from the full beam of a child to the crooked, easygoing grin of a man. His neck was adorned by a simple necklace--where had he gotten that? She couldn't ever recall him wearing one before.

But it was of no consequence to her.

This was why:

• She was still at the top of her class, the captain of the volleyball team--only now, she was the advisor of the student council. (Next year, perhaps, she could become the president, said the teachers. Why not now? asked the students.)
• He continued to loiter after school in the library, not studying but reading and playing video games in the shadowy corners of the room, tucked away behind the innumerable shelves lining the walls.
• She was the first to his tenth.
• She still wasn't good enough.
• She would never be good enough.

It was now their second year in high school. Five years since they first met.

She came into school on the third day of the second term, and he smiled at her from where he was standing. She raised her hand, timidly, quietly, and his smile widened. He approached her then, and took that timidly raised hand.

His fingers curled around hers, and she marveled at the masculine strength in them, his thicker fingers holding her petite hand in such a delicate manner that she'd gasped, flinching back. He relaxed his grip then--smile dimming all the while. And her heart throbbed, painfully at the sight.

He was so very gentle with her.

"It's fine." Yoona then murmured, gripping her smaller fingers around his own, trying to convey the same gentleness he'd shown hers.

Her fingertips barely brushed against rough knuckles before the hand inside of her own shifted, moving to grip hers properly. His palm was big and his skin was rough, but Yoona had never before felt such a strange sensation.

His hand moulded hers perfectly against his own.

They hadn't talked about what came next, but things followed one after the other, and Yoona found herself no long 'Im Yoona, top of the class' and now 'Yoona and Seunggi'.

She found that she rather liked how that sounded.

On their third date, he'd given her a necklace. His younger sister had helped him, he said bashfully, and he wanted her to wear it. It had the same pendant as his own, he then said, smiling as he held it out for her to take.

Yoona asked him to help her put it on--and when the lock clicked, she'd turned around and kissed him for the first time.

The heavy weight of the pendant and choker around her neck had been offset by the lightness in her heart, and she'd smiled broadly all the way back home.

Boys: that was all her friends seemed to want to talk about now that Yoona had Seunggi.

They talked about hairstyles, of celebrities, of makeup, of how to attract a boyfriend. That makeup shouldn't be too strong, that you should dress flatteringly, that you needed to make sure to become the girl that he wanted. They said that you should always show a boy that all that you've done to your face--it was all for him. Boys liked that, they said, and it made them feel special. Made them feel loved.

So Yoona put makeup on her face for the first time. The slightest hint of eyeliner, a brush of red across her cheeks and lips, a touch of champagne-gold to the corners of her eyes.

So Yoona pulled her hair from their braids and let it hang loose. Her hair cascaded off her shoulders in a bundle of rich, thick, black curls; the envy of all other girls.

So Yoona ed the first button of her shirt, wore stockings instead of socks, tugged nervously at her hiked up skirt.

He didn't notice.

--Or rather, he did, and he told her that she didn't have to do so much to get his attention.

He liked her the way that she was; liked that she was so beautiful even when plain and unassuming.

She was beautiful without trying, so why try?

Yoona had smiled at him for his sweet words, warmth fluttering in her chest and shivers going down her spine as if she were cold.

How kind he was, how sweet he was, telling her such nice things! He shouldn't lie, she said back to him, laughing behind a delicately poised hand. She'd spent longer than usual just for him, and he should enjoy what she tried to do for him!

Seunggi had smiled at her for her sweet words, and took her hand.

He didn't want her to look more beautiful than usual--he would feel jealous otherwise. He'd laughed softly, kissing her glossy lips, and wiped at the residue with his fingertips.

Oily fingerprints were left on his dresspants.

She'd paused, smiled, agreed, and let him walk back to class. If her eyes felt hot, she never said a word, merely wiping at her eyes once his back was turned to her.

As he walked away, she walked to the bathroom and washed away two hours of her life spent on trying to look perfect for him in two minutes.

Yoona would never be good enough; how could she forget?

Seunggi was too good for her; she could never forget that.

Now, it was six years since they'd first met; a year into their relationship, their sixth year in high school.

The next year, they would have their final exams and be sent off to university--

But that was so far off, wasn't it? Why worry about that, when girls liked boys and boys were the most important thing to a girl's life when she was young? School would become important next year, and so would university, but girls had to live life to the fullest right?

And so, her friends asked her whether she and Seunggi had kissed yet. She said yes.

They asked her if they had yet. She said no.

They asked her why she was waiting so long. Didn't she know that men needed to have to be happy? Honestly Yoona, you're so pure and cute, but that won't help in keeping Seunggi around for much longer if she continued to keep herself a . Men these days didn't like that, you see!

And so, her friends told her how she was to have , where she was to have , and exactly why she was to have .

Even if she felt her very soul shiver in fear and anticipation of this strange rite to adulthood, she wondered if this was what Seunggi had wanted from her all along.

Would this make her good enough for him?

Trembling, their inexperienced fingers finally made contact, shyly, chastely, a sweet prelude to the clumsy motions that followed.

Her hair was in , his lips were chapped but moist, their noses bumped and chaffed--it wasn't anything like what they'd prepared for. She found that it was... quite strange to feel another person's flesh upon her lips, to feel the warm puff of air coming from his nose against her cheek, to feel the sheer heat that radiated from their close proximity. The heat traveled from his lips into , traveling to her cheeks and finding rest at the back of her neck.

It was something that was quite strange and almost spiritual despite the lack of ceremony prior to their kiss.

Maybe it was all in her head, but it was as if his warmth was becoming hers; she could feel it pooling inside of her. It sent tingles down her spine; her fingers were cold and so were her toes, but the very core of her was infused with an almost burning fire.

Perhaps it was his feelings coming through the kiss and filling her with his love. Or perhaps there was something to the old adage that a kiss was the pouring of your soul into the other person's body.

She smiled into the kiss, and opened her eyes.

He was looking right back at her.

The coupling of their bodies was an echo of the union of their lips.

It was immature, quick, messy. But chaste, nevertheless, filled with whispered apologies and hesitations. It was the opposite of what she thought was love, yet she found herself loving this so very ironically.

Seunggi and Yoona seemed to kiss more than talk now, and study sessions turned into something more whenever they were left alone in an empty house.

Their sixth year together was now their seventh year, and it would soon become their eighth.

Yoona was worried because she knew that Seunggi wouldn't be able to get into the same university as hers--but he didn't seem to care. If anything, he seemed to be glad that he wouldn't have to aim so high and try so hard. She couldn't help but wonder whether he would be happy if she chose not to go to Seoul-dae and instead the same college as him. So that they could be together.

He told her not to be silly. He would continue to love her, even when they went to different universities and ended up doing different things. He had faith, faith that Yoona should also have, that they would be together. She'd see, he said, hope in his eyes as he took her hand.

She smiled nervously at him, and she nodded, accepting his words quietly.

They would be together.

Time went by.

Exams came and went, and university offers came and went.

Yoona got into Seoul-dae.

Seunggi didn't get anywhere and instead went straight into entertainment.

They couldn't be together.