Hansol looked at me after smiling at Yein. His smiled faded.
     "Jisoo?" he whispered. Gosh darnit, he recognized me. After all these years he recognized me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to curse.
     Hansol dropped his bag and his mouth opened. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't. He quickly left the room, exiting into the hallway somewhere else.
   
     I was so lifeless that I just sat in the desk chair with my head hanging.
     "Hansol? Where are you going!?" Yein yelled out, hanging open, "Please stay here, oh my goodness," Yein covered in shcok and looked anxiously around. She ran out to most likely look for Hansol.
     I was shaking. My fingers were vibrating like crazy and my jaw wouldn't close. I felt my body heat up so much that my nose began to run. I couldn't take it. I couldn't take the fact that I was in the same house as him. I hated him so much! Why the hell was I there?
     I suddenly saw a red droplet on my shirt. I felt around my cupid's bow and looked at my fingers. Blood. I was having a nosebleed from thinking too much. Hypertension.
     My thoughts became clouded at the sight of blood dripping down to my clothes. I spun around in the chair to make my escape, almost bumping into Yein's brother on my way out the door. He looked at me sadly, with shock and fright.
     As I practically stumbled my way out of the house, almost tripping over myself, I could hear Yein yelling for me to come back as I held on to my bleeding nose. No way in hell was I going back there. I couldn't ever.
     I found myself at the park nearby my old school.
     The one with the big tree. The one where all the little kids loved to play.
     The one where Sujeong had passed out at. The one where I had woken up to with bruises on my body after Hansol's friends had beat me up.
     I sat at the bench and wanted to collapse. My nosebleed was trickling, but slowly halting. I felt needles in my head and I wanted to just sleep. I felt so disgusting and tired. My blood pressure must have sky rocketed just then. All at the sight and thought of Hansol Chwe. It was his fault I was like this.
     With that, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I looked around at the familiar scenery and remembered my old home, my old school, and my old friends. I couldn't handle it at all. So I cried. I bit my lip and tried not to, but everything was too much. I started crying in the middle of the park as some little kids ran by me.
     Can you imagine that? I was just sitting there, blood running from my nose and tears going down my face. God, I wondered how many times I had cried because of Hansol Vernon Chwe. I hated him.
     Once the little kids started looking at me weirdly, I figured it was time to go back home and call it a day.
     When I went back to my apartment, I took a shower and almost passed out in the bathroom. I don't even remember what I was doing after I had dressed into my clothes.
     I didn't even dry my hair before I went to sleep. I just collapsed on to the bed and waited for the next day to come.
   
     I woke up the next Saturday morning with a headache. My alarm didn't wake me up, instead it was my phone, notifications going off every minute.
     For a second, I had no idea where I even was, but when I lifted my face off my pillow and looked around, I had realized that I was just in my own home, thankfully. I rubbed my eyes and grabbed my phone, seeing the same unknown number from yesterday calling me-- Yein.
     I remembered what had happened yesterday and who I had seen.
     I only went there to fix her computer. That was it. I didn't want to see that person, but I did. I had no reason to communicate with Yein anymore, especially knowing that she was a link between Hansol and I meeting again.
     But my phone kept going off, moving around my bed from vibrating so much. I hated it so much that I grabbed the thing and stuffed it under my pillow, getting up with a scornful expression and heading to the kitchen.        There was at least some food in my fridge that I wanted to eat. I began boiling water, waiting at the counter and staring at the pot. It sounds stupid I know, but there was too much on my mind that staring at a pot seemed much more fun to do than think.
     Until suddenly, my landline rang. Nobody knew my landline except my work. I bit my lip, thinking there was something urgent I needed to do there on my weekend. I expected to hear Soonyoung, Minghao, or my advisor, but instead, it was a girl.
     "Joshua!" she yelled.
     "Yein," I whispered with disbelief. God dammit, how did she get my number? I asked her that exactly.
     "It was on the business card you gave me," she timidly replied. I mentally punched myself. I would have done it physically and hard enough to knock myself out if the stove wasn't on, but I didn't want my place to burn down.
     "Ok, so what? What do you want now? I fixed your computer," I told her, sounding a bit harsh. I could just see her frowning then.
     "I wanted to apologize," she answered.
     "About what?" I furrowed my eyes. What did she have to apologize for? What did she know?
     "About Hansol..." she murmured. My hair stood on end and my neck began to sweat. What did she really know-- to what lengths did Hansol say anything about me?
     "Don't call me anymore," I snapped, shaking my head, ready to slam the phone onto the receiver.
     "Hansol wants to apologize, too," she whispered. I took a quick breath. I brought the phone back to my ear.
     "What?" I breathed out.
     "He said 'He's sorry, Jisoo.' He calls you Jisoo. I told him you're Joshua, but he said, 'Oh, Joshua? He's Jisoo.' He wants to say sorry to you, Jisoo," Yein quickly explained, obvious delay in her voice.
     Nobody really called me Jisoo anymore. That was a high school thing. He still knew me as Jisoo. I was surprised he remembered my name. I took a deep breath before I could feel my nose tingle like when I began crying.
     "Haha, okay. Sure, he feels guilty. That's the only reason he wants to say sorry to me. He's guilty. I don't need this, Yein. I'm not going to fall for something like this again. I don't need people being kind to me like that anymore. I don't need his apology," I said in one go. I didn't even let her say anything after that. I hung up.
     I looked at the phone, just sitting there, with sudden regret. I suddenly felt really tired. The water finally began boiling, though.        The food I had made turned out to be really good. Just pasta. I didn't feel full for some reason. I still felt really empty. I don't know, staring at an empty space while you eat is kinda boring and gets lonely after a while.
     I figured it was time to buy some other stuff since I was running low on necessities. Toothpaste, paper towels, the usual.
     There was a small convenience store near my work so I went over there and picked out a few things and placed them in my basket. I felt relatively calm then.
     I was looking at some vitamins when I suddenly bumped into someone.
     "I'm sorry, excuse me," I said quietly. When I looked to see who it was, my throat tightened.
     "Oh, no. My bad," he replied, "I'm sorry."
     The height, the stature, the voice. It was Kim Mingyu. There was no doubt. I wanted to tear my eyes away from him, but I couldn't. I stood about a meter away from him, our eyes both locked on each other. I didn't say anything. I just stared. It was him. I recognized him, and remembered how his punches felt against my body. I remembered his voice saying all type of insults. I remembered how he laughed at me while I cried in anguish.
     He must have remembered as well, because his mouth opened a bit as his eyes widened in realization. "I'm so... sorry," he whispered with trepidation.
     I shook my head, with anger and sadness. I wanted to cry, but at the same time I wanted to punch him. I hated him, too. I hated this feeling I had whenever I remembered anything from then.
     I finally tore my eyes away from him, dropping my basket full of things and just heading straight for the exit. My heart was beating so fast.        I went home angry. I headed straight for my bed and began punching my pillows, my blanket, everything. Even the wall, to which I felt the best relief of stress, but the worse feeling of pain. I took my fist away from the wall, seeing blood smeared in lines on the paint. I looked my own hand, seeing my knuckles bruised and wounded. It hurt so bad.
     At that time, I couldn't focus on how stupid I was for punching a wall. I could only feel how badly it hurt, how anxious I was, and how scared I felt.
     Every time I thought about my past, I felt so scared. I felt like it would eat me whole. Running away and punching walls was so much easier than confrontation. It hurt so much more, though. It hurt too much. I couldn't get away from anything, no matter how hard I tried.
     I yelled out in frustration, a chain of curses with "Oh god, Really!?" laced in between. It was all I could say, knowing that leaving my past behind and not facing up to my problems would only hurt me hundreds of times more than a throbbing and swollen hand.        That night, I looked through my call log on my cell phone. Everything was from Yein, spamming my phone with voicemails. I didn't listen to any, and instead dialed back the number.
     After a few rings, someone picked up, "Hello?" Yein answered.
     "Hi," I hesitantly said.
     There was a silence for a couple of seconds, then a gasp.
     "Joshua?" she asked, "Hello! Is this Joshua?"
     "Yes," I replied lowly.
     "You called me... What's wrong?" at that question, I quickly swallowed down my fear. Was I really going to do this?
     "I... can't run away anymore," I whispered.
     "What?" Yein drawled out.
     "I-- uh," I felt rigid, not knowing what I could say, "It hurts." I firmly said, grabbing onto my shirt at the chest. I didn't know how to say that I wanted to actually see Hansol again. I didn't know how to say that I did need an apology to move on with my life. For years, it seemed like I was still the same person as I was when I was in high school.
     There was a silence that lasted about five seconds, but it felt like five years.
     "Joshua," Yein warmly said, "You can come over any time you want."
     "Okay," I replied, "Okay." I hung up the call and stared at my screen a bit before slapping the back of my hand to my forehead and falling backwards on my bed.        It took around two days for me set my mind straight. I was constantly thinking about whether to visit again or not. Then there was work and other