Trigger Warnings: forced hospitalization, psychological abuse, mentions of abandonment  

 

Five Months Ago

 

Moonbyul loved her. She really, really loved her. 

 

She hadn’t even been looking for love. Love waltzed into the café she worked at on a sunny afternoon in early September, when it was still warm, but the coolness of fall was starting to appear in Seoul. 

 

That’s how Sunmi was: so warm, so cool, so everything Moonbyul ever wanted in a girl.

 

She could never forget how Sunmi was dressed that day. She had on a brown pencil skirt and a white blouse with just the right amount of ruffle down the front tucked into it. The necklace and earring she wore couldn’t possibly have been that shiny, but they blinded Moonbyul as if they were each a mini sun. Her silky black hair was loose, her lips painted crimson. 

 

Moonbyul knew she was done for when she couldn’t stop looking at her lips. 

 

Moonbyul still doesn’t know how she made it through taking Sunmi’s order that first day. Sunmi was all smiles, and a little flirtatious. Okay, a bit more than a little. She laughed at everything Moonbyul said, even when it wasn’t all that funny, and told her this was officially her new favorite café. She said she’d come back every day, but Moonbyul didn’t believe her, so she tried to forget Sunmi as soon as she watched her walk out the door that day.

 

But she did come back. She kept coming back, until it’d been over a week. Moonbyul was taking extra shifts just to be there whenever Sunmi would stop in for her coffee. 

 

“You look so cute in that apron,” Sunmi said as Moonbyul punched her order into the tablet and handed her the printed receipt. 

 

Their hands brushed and Moonbyul felt like she might pass out. 

 

“How old are you, Moonbyul-shi?”

 

“Twenty-three,” she stammered. 

 

“Ah,” Sunmi smiled, leaning over the counter a bit more. “I’m twenty-six, but let’s drop the honorifics, huh? You can call me ‘unnie.’ Some people very close to me even call me ‘Sunny Sunmi,’” she said with a giggle. 

 

Moonbyul knew right away she wanted to be close enough to Sunmi to call her that.

 

Sunny Sunmi. It seemed just right for this dazzling woman.

 

“Yes, Sunmi-shi, I mean… Unnie?” 

 

“Much better,” Sunmi said with a smile so bright Moonbyul swore she was about to go blind. 

 

“Yeah, much better,” Moonbyul echoed. 

 

Moonbyul handed Sunmi her drink, their fingers brushing again. Sunmi slipped something into Moonbyul’s hand at the last moment, then her heels, winking as she walked back onto the streets of Seoul.

 

It was the receipt for her drink. 

 

With a phone number scribbled on it.

 

***

 

Fast and furious was the only way Moonbyul could think to describe her relationship with Sunmi. Instead of taking extra shifts, she began to take less so she could spend every possible free moment with her. 

 

She learned soon that one of the dazzling rings on Sunmi’s finger was only there because she was married. 

 

“He’s so not my type,” Sunmi said one night as they strolled along the Han River. 

 

Moonbyul really wanted to hold her hand, but things like that were reserved only for Moonbyul’s cramped studio apartment, which suddenly felt larger than the universe whenever Sunmi was there.

 

Sunmi turned to Moonbyul, walking backward in front of her. 

 

“You’re much more my type,” she said with a wink.

 

It was easy to open up to Sunmi. Sunmi had a way of bringing out all the stories Moonbyul never wanted to tell someone, or never even thought to tell them. 

 

Sitting on her ratty couch one night, her knees tucked under her chin, Moonbyul found herself confessing her deepest, darkest fears as she recounted memories she’d tried so hard to forget over the past few years. 

 

“I’ve been on my own for a few years now,” she said. “My parents died when I was young, a car accident, and my aunt who raised me… I never wanted for anything, but she never really loved me. She always told me she just did it because it’s what her sister would have wanted.” 

 

“Moonbyul-ie…” Sunmi drew her close until Moonbyul’s head was cradled between her head and shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how cold a person must have to be to not love you with their whole heart.” 

 

“My aunt died right before I started college. She left me an inheritance, but no other family. And I was never great at making friends… Unnie, I’m so afraid I’ll be alone. I’m so scared of being left behind, like my parents left me, and even my aunt.” 

 

“You have me,” Sunmi said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

She gently lifted Moonbyul’s head up until they were eye-to-eye. Their lips touched, and Moonbyul knew later, when she was alone in her bed that night, she would cherish the crimson Sunmi’s lipstick left on her skin. 

 

For the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful. She felt loved. 

 

But one frigid February day, it all changed. 

 

Sunmi came to the café as usual, but kept her sunglasses on until she was sure only Moonbyul could see her. She lowered her glasses and Moonbyul saw how puffy and red they were. How long had she been crying? Moonbyul wanted to reach over the counter and caress her face, but instead Sunmi pushed her glasses back up. It was like a teflon shield was suddenly separating them.

 

“Jay found out,” Sunmi said, her voice low and raspy. “He found out about you and me. Not you in particular… He just knows.” 

 

Moonbyul felt like she couldn’t breathe. This was it. This was when Sunmi always did what she’d said she’d do: leave her husband for her. 

 

“We can make this work, Sunmi-ya” Moonbyul whispered. Just a few nights ago, Sunmi had asked Moonbyul to call her by her name. Moonbyul loved how it felt on her lips.

 

Sunmi shook her head. She tried keeping a poker face, but her lips, missing their trademark crimson lipstick, trembled. 

 

“No, Moonbyul-shi.” 

 

The honorific was like a shot through Moonbyul’s heart. 

 

“No, we can’t. I have to stay with him.” 

 

Before Moonbyul could protest, Sunmi ran out of the café. She didn’t answer any of Moonbyul’s many texts and calls. 

 

It had happened. Again. Moonbyul was alone. 

 

So what else was there to do?

 

***

 

The lights were off in the mansion Sunmi and her husband called home. Moonbyul knew they were out for the evening because there was a big award show they’d both have to attend. It was perfect timing, really. 

 

Moonbyul had staked the house out. She knew where the CCTV cameras were located, how to dodge as many as possible, how to disable others, how to disguise herself properly. She was in through the window, then she was throwing any and everything she could get her hands on.

 

She smashed their wedding Chinaware. She threw the many awards Jay had won against the walls. She tossed Sunmi’s makeup out of its bags and around the bathroom. In that crimson lipstick, she scribbled nonsense all over the mirror. 

 

Then she entered their bedroom. She pulled the covers from the bed and threw them out the window. She screamed into their pillows. Then she punched the mirror over and over again until she felt someone grab her bloody fist. 

 

“Moonbyul-ie!” 

 

Sunmi’s voice was smooth like honey, immediately soothing Moonbyul. She fell limp.

 

“What the hell is all this? Who is this girl?” Jay Park stepped into the room, hands on his hips.

 

The laugh started somewhere deep inside of Moonbyul, then bubbled up and outward until it was too loud and powerful to stop. 

 

“This girl?” Moonbyul said through her laughter. “She’s leaving you for ME!” 

 

Sunmi looked frantically between Moonbyul, who she was still holding up, and her husband, whose face was growing redder by the moment. 

 

“She’s delusional, Jay,” Sunmi said. She nodded toward Moonbyul’s bloody hands. “She’s just the barista at my regular café. She took our friendship to mean… To mean more than it does.” 

 

“Friendship?” Moonbyul laughed. 

 

“You called her informally,” Jay said. “You know her well, clearly.”

 

“I’m trying to calm her down! Call an ambulance, Jay. She needs help.” 

 

“An ambulance? She belongs behind bars!” 

 

Moonbyul was still laughing, waiting for Sunmi to finally tell Jay off, to say she’d leave with her. 

 

“She’s no criminal, Jay. She’s just… she’s a lunatic.” 

 

Lunatic. 

 

Sirens were blaring. They had to restrain Moonbyul in the ambulance. 

 

“SUNMI-YA!” She screamed the whole ride to the hospital. 

 

The medics did their best to tend to her wounds, but she wouldn’t hold still. She wouldn’t stop yelling. 

 

“Administer the sedative now!” a medic shouted. 

 

Moonbyul felt something prick her skin, then the fight began to drain from her. Her limbs grew heavy, her eyes grew heavy… She only vaguely felt the sting of the medical alcohol on her bloodied knuckles, and the sharp pain of shards of glass being plucked from her skin faded as everything turned black.

 

***

 

Moonbyul woke up in a room by herself, in a place she didn’t recognize. She tried to get up, but her wrists and ankles were bound to the bed. She looked down and saw she was in hospital pajamas. There was an IV taped against the back of her hand. 

 

“LET ME GO!” She screamed. “I’M NOT A LUNATIC! SUNMI-YA! SUNMI-YA!” 

 

Nurses rushed in. One tried to comfort her by brushing the hair from her forehead. 

 

“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “It’s all going to be okay.”

 

“I’m not a lunatic!” Moonbyul said, still straining against the restraints. “Let me go!” 

 

“No, no, you’re not a lunatic,” the nurse said. “You do need to see the doctor first before you can go. Once you see the doctor, we’ll get this all sorted out. Can you take a few deep breaths for me, honey?” 

 

“SUNMI-YA!” She screamed louder than before. 

 

The nurse turned to her partner. “Administer it through the IV.”

 

The nurse stayed by Moonbyul’s side as the world faded to black again, but Moonbyul told herself it was Sunmi standing by her side, Sunmi pushing the hair from her sweaty forehead and cleaning it with the gentle pat of a moist sponge, Sunmi whispering worriedly above her head… 

 

Only then could she truly rest.