The scattered remains of the laptop litter the pathway under the window. I can see the battery and heat sink, lost keyboard keys and hardware splayed out in the open. In a way, it looks like a tragic crime scene.

Tearing my gaze away from the window, I almost wish I hadn’t--Hyunwoo stares at me, mouth open in shock. His hair is still wet from the shower he just came out of. It falls limply over his eyes, dripping water down his face and onto the too-white tank top. Like, it’s awkward because I’ve never really noticed how hot he is, but now really isn’t the time. He’s looking at me like I’m crazy.

Which I guess I kind of am. I did just chuck my ex-boyfriend’s laptop out the window in front of his roommate.

We look at each other in absolute silence. Minutes pass before Hyunwoo breaks away and glances out the window. His eyebrows scrunch together. “Uh,” he says, deliberately not looking at me. “That was my laptop…”

Wait. . What? No, it--what?

I mean, I’ve seen Jooheon’s laptop before; it has to be his. The only property I want to damage is his. I don’t have anything against Hyunwoo; he seems like a decent guy, but I do want Jooheon to suffer--

God, I sound like one of those psycho exes.

“Jooheon’s laptop is in his room,” Hyunwoo continues. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and a couple of droplets land on me. Slowly, I wipe my face and look at the broken laptop, then back to him. My cheeks are starting to heat up, and I don’t--Look, I don’t know how to explain this, okay?

Hyunwoo opens his mouth to say something else, but I don’t give him a chance. Spinning on my heel, I flee, slamming the door behind me.

I’m not usually a psycho ex-girlfriend. I mean, if I destroyed something of all my exes, I’d be rolling in debt. I can’t afford to be that angry, and any college student would agree with me. If I had to count, I’d say I’ve only flipped on maybe three of my former boyfriends? All for a good reason--well, the same reason.

See, I have this Friend. I took the ‘best’ descriptor out because we’re not besties anymore. How tragic, I know, but if she wasn’t kind of a (and if I wasn’t so bitter), we’d still be super close. I digress.

I have this Friend who is gorgeous and utterly unapproachable; she’s got the ice princess image down pat. Guys want to get with her, obviously, and think the best way to do so is through me. Most of them try to strike up a friendship and then ask me to do them a solid, but there are three--only three--who thought the best way to get to her was by dating me. The sad thing is, it worked. Hence why we’re not ‘best’ friends anymore. I can hold a mean grudge.

Why would a friend do that, you might ask? Hell if I know. I’m generally non-confrontational. Shocker, right? But I don’t like arguments, I don’t like fights, and I really don’t like blow ups. So I stew and stew, and every time she asks me if I’m mad at her, I say, “No, don’t be silly.” It’s half true--I save most of my rage for the exes who used me, but I don’t excuse her of responsibility either.

It’s obvious that I have a lot of pent up frustration, isn’t it?

I don’t know why I thought Jooheon was different. We met at a bowling alley, for God’s sakes. The Friend wasn’t even around at the time. He was cute and funny and I thought I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. Then, five months later, I found out he was basically using me to get close to the Friend and succeeded.

That’s what bothers me the most. They always succeed.

I kept getting more and more angry until I drank a bottle and half of soju before four pm. With my low alcohol tolerance, I thought wrecking Jooheon’s stuff sounded like the perfect revenge.

I knew the passcode to his apartment, so I let myself in. I swear, I was only going to mess up his clothes a little bit, maybe throw eggs on the floor because that sounded like a pain to clean up. But when I stepped inside and heard the shower running, I froze--the buzz wore off really fast. That’s the problem with impulsive actions. You don’t ever have a plan for when things don’t go the way you expect.

So there I was, standing stock still as Hyunwoo stepped out of the bathroom. He looked as shocked to see me as I did to see him. We stared at each other and, because I could sense my window (haha, get it?) of opportunity closing and I refused to walk out of here without doing something, I grabbed the nearest thing to me--the laptop--and tossed it out the open window. It made a sickening crunching noise as it landed.

And that brings us back to the beginning.

After running out of the apartment, I go to collect the shattered laptop. I always feel guilty after I do something Bad™ but this is different. I’m actually gutted. Not only did I do something terrible, I did it to someone who didn’t deserve it. What has Hyunwoo ever done to me? We’ve barely even talked more than a few times--and not because he’s rude; he just seems shy and awkward around people he doesn’t know.

I crouch down by the laptop and frown as I gather up all the pieces. It’s not as bad as I first thought. Sure, it’s broken, but I don’t think any of the important bits are ruined, like the hard drive. If I take it to a professional, they can fix… okay, not fix it, but save all the memory and stuff, right? I’ll have to buy Hyunwoo a new laptop and I can’t afford to right now, but I have no choice. He can sue, can’t he? Destruction of property or whatever. I don’t want to go to jail over this! Or pay a heftier fine.

Cradling the destroyed device in my hands, I look up at the window I tossed it out of. My eyes meet Hyunwoo’s once more; he’s got his head sticking out the window, watching what I’m doing. I get the sense he wants to yell at me to stop, but once again I flee before he can say anything.

I’m sorry, I’ll bring it back.

“The ,” Wooyoung says, squinting at the mess on the counter. “You want me to put that back together? What did you even do?” We’re in the computer repair shop he works at part time. It’s empty this time of day so he can be as loud as he wants, but I still wince; I don’t really want to explain the whole sordid story to my older sister’s boyfriend.

“You don’t have to put it back together,” I say quickly. Picking up the brand new laptop box at my feet, I slide it onto the counter in front of him. “I was wondering if you can like, transfer the memory stuff--pictures, videos, et cetera--from that one into this.”

“Okay, I can try, but how did this happen?”

“I kind of, I, um, threw it out the window.”

Wooyoung stares at me in disbelief. “What.”

“It seemed like a good idea?”

“What,” he repeats.

“I’m trying to control the situation, alright!”

“You are one of the dumbest people I’ve ever met.” Wooyoung sorts through the debris before pulling some… I don’t know, it’s shiny and tech-y. I’m not a computer person. I do liberal arts. “It’s your ex’s, isn’t it?”

“It’s not, and that’s the problem,” I admit glumly.

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask any more questions, mainly because he knows I’ll refuse to answer them. “I can… no promises, but I’ll try to sort this out.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, and I can tell it’s not going to be easy.