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“Ice…cream?” Namjoo repeated, confused whilst staring at him blankly.

Sehun looked really disturbed about something, but he’d been thinking about ice cream?

His eyes were slightly wide, making him appear stunned and frozen. Had she stepped out beyond her boundary and irked him? Namjoo didn’t quite understand what he was thinking, but he didn’t look too good. For a slight second she was concerned about him.

“Um…” Namjoo awkwardly laughed, “ok.”

Turning away from her he quickly blinked his eyes and stiffly walked toward his car, his lips glued tight.

“What’s wrong with him?” Namjoo asked herself before following him.

\\\\\

Stricken, Hayoung sat back down. “Drifting from you? What are you talking about? Choonhee has been very much herself lately.”

Kai stared at her directly, trying to weigh out any reason she’d be lying to him. He didn’t like the fact that he was pleading her help. It made him feel all forms of ridiculousness, but there was no other option.

Choonhee didn’t feel like she was his these days. Her attention seemed to waver and something about her was not the same. He was afraid that she was swaying. If not toward Sehun, at least from him. And that was a big worry. It made him uncomfortable and insecure. He didn’t like feeling as if he was about to lose her any second.  

“I know,” Kai said. “I don’t feel like she has the engagement in mind like she would have. It disturbs me.”

He averted his eyes, aware that he was being pathetic and that he may be exaggerating how insecure he felt. But the feelings were very real and he wanted it fixed.

“Why don’t you skip the engagement and go right to the wedding?” Hayoung suggested.

The suggestion further threw him off. Surprise flickered across his expression.

“I don’t intend to rush. It feels unnatural.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem that way anymore, does it?” Hayoung weighed his cons for him. “I mean, you’re up against Sehun and losing an entire fortune. And you’re worried about Choonhee’s state of mind. They say when you start worrying, it’s going to happen.”

He hated her.

Deeply sighing she eyed the table and tapped her finger on the tabletop, as if talking to him bored her. “Use a stimulant on her.”

His eyes hardened in both shock and disbelief. “Hey…”

“Why?” she raised a brow. “If you get her drunk, it’s called , isn’t it?”

His brows furrowed deeper down his face. 

“Make her want you. Get her pregnant. Then you get your marriage.” Hayoung simplified the process up for him.

“Are you crazy?” he growled underneath his breath.

“If you’re willing to go to this extent just to harbor some more money, would you not do this?” she eyed him contemplatively.

He knew she was testing him, his limits, and his desires. And she knew she was aiming to win.

“I can get some for you.” Hayoung offered. “After all, I don’t think raising a baby would be too hard for you.”

\\\\\

They stopped at a local ice cream shop after he asked her which one was her favorite. Of course Namjoo didn’t have any favorite. She’d never been to an ice cream shop before, but here she was spoiling herself to all the desert she ever wanted. An empty sundae bowl sat beside her cleaned out while she feasted on her second bowl. The mix of chocoloate, the banana, and the vanilla ice cream was heaven exploding inside . For a few minutes she’d forgotten about Sehun, who was slowly digging into his bowl of two scoops of vanilla ice cream with cherries on top.

“Are you still that hungry?” Sehun asked. “This is making me cold.”

Forcing the ice cream in down she glanced up at him. “I think this is perfect. And besides, we didn’t have desert earlier.”

“After a course meal I don’t think we really needed any.” He muttered.

Calming down her excited spirit, she lowered her spoon into the bowl then took another look at him. “You suggested ice cream. Why aren’t you eating yours?”

He glanced down into his bowl. “I’m not into sweets. I wonder why I even mentioned it.”

Yes, she thought, why did he?

“You…” Namjoo hesitated, wondering if she was going out of her bounds but he looked at her and she flushed. In fear of looking stupid she forced the words out, “Are you absentminded? What are you thinking about so hard?”

He seemed surprised at her outburst and Namjoo ended up nervously laughing, which did not help but only added to the awkwardness she was experiencing. Suddenly hot she grabbed the front of her blouse and began to fan herself, stopping when she caught his eyes hard on her. Gulping, she grabbed her spoon again and ate some ice cream.

“You sure have an appetite,” he commented, finally shattering the silence. “You’ve always a small stomach. Did it change after you got sick or something?”

Namjoo stiffly laughed and bit down on her tongue. Right, she’d forgotten about it for a second because he was being so strange around her. Then out of the blue she suddenly recalled discovering those photos of Choonhee in Tao’s home. Should she find that strange or not?

Clearing she asked, “I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Say, you have a friend,” Namjoo said, “and you have a lot of pictures of her. Is that normal?”

Sehun frowned slightly as he put her question to thought. “Between friends, I guess it’s normal.”

“Is it? I thought so too,” Namjoo commented quite excitedly, in hopes that he wasn’t going to ask her who it was or why she was asking. If he knew it was related to her twin it wouldn’t turn out well.

\\\\\

Going for ice cream was the lamest excuse Sehun had ever used in his entire lifetime. He didn’t think he’d forget how much of a fool he had been tonight. It was too bad it was getting darker and there were no more excuses to make. He was bound to return Choonhee home. Overall, he calculated, it hadn’t been too bad a night with her.

Sadly the drive was too short and they were already in front of Choonhee’s home. When he turned to speak to her he realized why the drive back had been so quiet. Choonhee was knocked out in the passenger’s seat with her head dangling from the side. Seeing her asleep in such an uncomfortable position made him feel quite sorry for her.

Releasing his seatbelt he leaned over and released her seatbelt as well. Maintaining a hold on the buckle he slid it off from around her and gently controlled the strap, leaning his torso over her as it zipped back into place. Making sure to move as quietly as possible he moved back and felt her hair brush against his cheek before he was eventually at foreheads with her.

She slept well and peacefully, was completely unaware that his eyes were ogling again. With his hand out to position her head back into the seat before waking her, his fingers nearly touched her just before she opened her eyes. His breath caught in his throat and his heart stopped pumping in that mere second her eyes directly locked with his. Sehun could barely think of anything else, his mind a blank and empty canvas.

She was so close to him, nearly a breath away, and he could have done something more, like kiss her or something. Shocked, he immediately flopped back into his seat. Very obviously he cleared his throat, the awkwardness flowing off him and filling up the capacity of the car. His hand slid over the wheel and he continuously blinked his eyes, having a need to concentrate on something else than the person stirring him up.

“We’re here. You can leave.” He listened to her move back into her seat quietly then turn to look out the window.

“Oh…” she uttered then pulled the door open. His insides shrieked she when put a foot out on concrete, wanting to know if she was just going to leave like this. “Um…thanks.”

Closing the door she walked away, leaving him breathing as he sought for his right state of mind.

\\\\\

Work was usual. Namjoo got singled out and ignored, had lunch with Kai, and returned to her loner cubicle. Right after work Hayoung took her dress shopping as planned, no questions asked. Namjoo had learned to keep her curiosity from getting the better of her in front of this so-called friend. If there was a social gathering or whatever she had to attend with Kai that weekend, that was that. All she had to do was wear a dress and stand still, like a mannequin. After all, she wasn’t very far from being one herself. Namjoo scoffed at the thought.

“Get whatever you like,” Hayoung brushed her off and moved away from her to look around. It didn’t take Namjoo very long look through the racks of styled dresses. Choosing a strapless beige dress with a flood of rhinestones decorating the lower half, she walked over to Hayoung ready to go home and call it quits.

Without even looking at her she said as she pushed through the dresses on the rack, “Go try it on.”

“Why? It’s a waste of time. I think this one will do just fine.”

“It’s a waste of time if it doesn’t suit the concept of the gathering either.” she spat.

Biting her lower lip, Namjoo stomped toward the dressing room, slipped out of her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror within satisfaction. Her appearance and the dress – the way it suavely hugged her food starved body, Namjoo had to admit she liked it. She wondered for a moment if this was what Choonhee constantly did for a living. Shopping with no limit and buying all the things that made her look good.

Another second slipped by before she realized Choonhee must have felt like a beautiful person. Wearing all these pretty clothes and owning all those meticulous, but glamorous shoes. All those accessories she owned made her look good. She’d had everything any one woman would have dreamed of possessing.

The twin was so unlike her.

Before becoming Choonhee Namjoo didn’t know how good or bad she looked. Ever since she’d taken over her twin’s life her style had been upgraded thanks to Choonhee’s wardrobe, makeup, shampoo, and bath soap. Basically her life, what she’d left behind was the transformation in Namjoo’s street life. Offering her the better, yet not without consequences.

The reflection in the mirror stared back at her and the smile she’d owned at seeing herself in the dress slowly wore off. What would Choonhee think of her now?

A knock on the door woke her up.

“Are you done yet?” Hayoung asked impatiently.

“Oh…uh yea!” Namjoo replied back and quickly turned to open the door.

On the other side Hayoung stood with arms crossed and a foot tapping against the floor. Her eyes looked bored, flat, and unamused. It deploringly reminded her of the way Sehun’s eyes were sometimes. The negative connotation she received from it irritated her.

“I told you it’s a waste of time trying it on,” Namjoo mumbled, swiping her loose hair back.

She was so ready to go home after shoving it in Hayoung’s face that she was right about the dress fitting perfectly well. Instead, she merely jolted back when Hayoung abruptly grabbed her arm, shaking her.

“What the hell is that?” she hissed underneath her breath.

Suddenly feeling like a rat up against a cat again, Namjoo grew unintentionally nervous. “Wh…what are you talking about?”

Shoving her back Hayoung dragged her back into the dressing room and forced her to turn around to look at her own reflection.

“I’m talking about that.” She stated in an aggravated manner, as if angry that Namjoo hadn’t told her about it.

At first when Namjoo glanced at herself she could only concentrate on the storm of confusion Hayoung was throwing her into. Then her eyes landed on the heinous scar on her shoulder appearing like skin marbled together, the lump of skin – her scar.

“Go pick another dress to cover yourself up,” Hayoung breathed voicelessly, “Choonhee doesn’t have scars.”

\\\\\

Something about the way Hayoung had spoken to her, the words she’d used, and the manner in the way she’d looked at her made her feel low. Namjoo had felt less like a person under her scrutinizing eyes – the eyes that had called her ugly.

Namjoo sat up in the tab and leaned against the wall, listening to the water splash in her ears and trickle over her face. She was annoyed, but she felt depressed as well.

Of course, of course she knew and realized that Choonhee had been a beautiful person with no flaw in her image or appearance. She had been perfect from head to toe! Of course Namjoo know she couldn’t compare to the twin who’d been like an angel, the model woman everyone wanted to be like.

Of course…she knew, but it still made her depressed for some reason.

Left behind to grow up in an orphanage then dumped out into the street when she was of age, learning to fend for herself and lie her way through her search for food. Sleeping in the cold winters on a mat without a blanket, hugging herself to sleep while dreaming of a better day. Moving from hostel to hostel and growing up with no real friend.

But Choonhee had lived the ideal life. With everything. Handsome men. People who wanted her. Friends. Money and security. And a home.

Irritated with herself Namjoo slid under the water, clamping her eyes shut, and holding her breath. She didn’t like droning about it or feeling sorry for herself. She wasn’t pitiful and she didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. She just wanted to live and survive.

Minutes later after draining the tub she and draping a fluffy white towel that just freshly came out of the wash, she walked up to the mirror blurred with steam. Reaching out to wipe it away she stared at her reflection, her eyes focused on the scar on her shoulder.

Till this very day Namjoo still felt like she got it just yesterday. The story was short, but it left her with a lifetime’s story to tell. She’d been robbed of the five dollars she picked up on the street. Very likely from the moment she’d been born she wasn’t very blessed with luck, for a hungry man had seen her so the money wasn’t very much of a big secret in her pocket. Life on the street helped her hone her sensory skills; it wasn’t long before she knew she was being followed.

The man in rags and covered in grime chased her for blocks, until she stupidly cornered herself at a brick wall. Namjoo could still remember the litter of cans and cat litter there. She too, had learned to become vicious to defend herself, but it was all amateur swings and punches she taught herself. What put her to the worst disadvantage in history was that she carried no weapon on her.

Back then, she wasn’t a bad person. Namjoo had thought from day to day she’d live honestly, on other days brutally because she had no choice. But that day she wished she should have been brutal. When the man pulled the knife on her Namjoo panicked, the beat of her heart climbing up when he jumped her without warning. Then he left her all bloody and crying pathetically like a baby after searching her pockets.

Did she get help?

No. No one came for her either. No one was there. No one offered a hand even when she walked around, clutching onto her wounded shoulder and blood dripping relentlessly down her arm. It took her three good hours to finally find a public restroom where she cleaned herself. There, she gave women and their children a fright when they walked in.

The cut had been deep in her flesh. The pain exhausted her for days and without food, it had been even worse. Strangers who felt sorry for her as they walked by gave her their leftovers and she even received twenty bucks at one time. The scar had been both a blessing and an unwanted reminder of who she was on the street.

Namjoo didn’t have money to walk in a clinic or beg for help. The wound should have healed perfectly. Instead, it got infected – the story behind the unnatural colored lump. It wasn’t a huge lump of skin, but it was visible enough that anyone could see the imbalance of her perfect shoulder.

Ugly…

Choonhee was a perfect beauty Namjoo couldn’t imitate. She was the twin Namjoo would never stand up to par with.

They were too different.

For the first time since becoming Choonhee, Namjoo droned over the fact that she was pathetic. 

***And that's what'll let the world know Namjoo's not Choonhee