It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen Rapmonster. The last time I’ve seen him was when he confessed to me—was it real? Was it not? Those two questions are endlessly circling in my head. Back then, I was too embarrassed so I just ran back home underneath the falling snow.

But still, I would think that he would come barging into my house at any moment now or send me a text but he hasn’t. My calendar indicates that it’s the 12^th of December and I really wanted to finish this story before the New Year. I sigh as I check the number of subscribers I have on my Rapmonster story: 13. “Pff. He said he’d be my inspiration yet he’s not even here.” I raise an angry waving fist. “I might as well make another scene where I kick him in the balls—“ My fist slowly falls back down unto my lap. Another sigh escapes my lips, checking the time: 2:12pm. “Faith unni! Faith unni!” I scream, running towards the kitchen. “Faith unni—“

“Yes, my dearest?” She stops sharpening her knife and swings full force towards me—almost stabbing me in the gut.

“UNNI!” I shriek, inches away from the being in the contact with the blade.

“Oops.” Her voice bounces, happily. My eyes are twitching at the fatal incident that could’ve just occurred as she takes out vegetables that I bought yesterday. “Did you need something?” 

“I was just--” I clear my throat, looking at the crystal clear water drop from the empty sink—empty. Empty? “Faith unni…”

“HURRY UP AND SAY WHAT YOU WANT! CAN’T YOU SEE I’M COOKING?!” Her short temper has never been anything but short. She’s holding up the knife, again.

“Did you clean the kitchen?” I ask, cautiously. The anger in her eyes subdue as the corner of her lips curl up, uncontrollably. She goes back to chopping the tomatoes, which match the tips of her ears.  “Because it wasn’t this clean—“ I scratch the back of my head, thinking of the last time I took a good look around the new, breathable environment.

“Of course you didn’t, you pig!” I furrow my brow at the way she’s acting. 

“Namjoon cleaned it!” She squeals as she starts sautéing some meat. I blink a couple of times, trying to comprehend what she’s saying.

“Namjoon? Rapmonster?” 

“While you were out yesterday, he came over and cleaned practically the whole house! Took you long enough to realize!”

The plates glisten underneath the replaced, working light bulbs. The goo and stains on the floor have disappeared into thin air. All the updated newspapers and magazines are stacked neatly on the coffee table. There’s not a speck of dust floating around. For the first time, there’s not a hazy vision past my hands. I frown, looking at all the cleanliness. “Given… Namjoon did break a few cups and light bulbs but he called Jin and the guys brought over new ones!” I stare at her, happily cooking away.

“Are you in your right mind? We can’t accept these.” I’m holding the cups plastered with pictures of BTS faces. There are exactly six of them—Suga missing from the group. I chuckle, knowing Rapmon was behind this master plan.

“Of course not! That’s why I’m sending you to deliver these for the guys.”

“I’m not going back.” My throat closes up, thinking back on how Rapmon confessed.

“Why not?” The flames of the fire sprout up as she pours oil into the sizzling pan. The fire reflects on my sister’s face like the devil, himself, staring at me.

“I don’t want to.” I say, heading back out.

“GRACE!” My sister roars as she wraps her arm around my neck—choking as she does. “IF YOU DON’T GO, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO CUT OFF ALL YOUR HAIR—“

The sharp blades, accidentally, brush against my cheek—right below my eyes.

“AND THIS IS WHY YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO PLAY AROUND WITH SCISSORS!” I turn around shouting at her as I hold unto my dripping, bloody cheek.   

“THIS WOULD’VE NEVER HAPPENED IF YOU JUST WENT! NAMJOON’S SICK BECAUSE OF YOU!” I stare at my sister, wiping the other side of my cheek from her spit splatter. Faith, too, wipes her drooping spit with the back of her hand. She looks away, disappointed at me. Her voice is more cooled down now. “Who wouldn’t get sick from cleaning out pigsty? We’re just immune to it.” She sighs, looking back in my eyes. “Grace, don’t be too afraid to fall in love because of what happened. It’s not worth it to keep yourself captive.” She gives me a disappearing smile before she goes back into the kitchen to finish her cooking for the boys.