PART II.I: The Caterpillar
The caterpillar is still at the feeding stage, growth seems slower than per usual. There may be some shedding of the skin to keep according to its growing body. This might happen four more times until the caterpillar reaches the third stage.



At 4AM, Himae gets a call from an unknown number. Her fingers claw at her nightstand, trying to find the ringing device without much luck. She finally grasps her phone and slurs out a low hello.

“Himae, I’m in Korea.” A voice responds and Himae sits up on her bed, surprised. She tries not to squeal at the excitement.

“Already? You’re not supposed to be back for another week!” Himae exclaims, smiling to herself. It’s been a year already.

“It’s incredibly late and rude but can I come over? No one’s at home and –”

“Of course you can! You’re at the airport right?” Himae's smile grows wider at the realization that her group's going to be full again. But for how long? Three months? A year? Forever?

“Actually, I’m on my way to your place right now.” She hears the person smiling on the other line and Himae rolls her eyes.

“Welcome back Mari.”

“I’m home, Himae.”





Everything’s too loud for Himae. The sound of the buzzer going on and off every set, the ball getting bumped, smashed, volleyed or served. The dry sound it made as it came in contact with the player’s hands and the boos or cheers everyone would utter every time a point is made or given. It’s all too much but Himae simply tightens her grip on the handlebar and wishes the voice would stop rampaging through her head, crashing into the walls of her brain and causing a bigger headache. She never remembered being so sensitive to noise, it started after her grandma’s death. She doesn’t know why it happens either but she’s not willing to find out.

She looks up again when the people around her are cheering again and she looks down to see a successful spike courtesy of Jiji. Jisun’s captain of the volleyball team at her school and she’s doing a good job leading the team to the finals.

“JIJI!” Himae calls out and Jisun looks up. Himae gives her thumbs up and Jisun smiles gently, nodding.

Her other best friend, Dan Mari cheers as well.  

Unlike Himae and Jisun, Mari falls under a different category at the school. Still, she’s technically a princess but her parents aren’t business people, her mother’s a famous mystery novelist and her father runs a chain of academies in Korea, China, Taiwan and Japan.

That’s her background, something that everyone knows. They don’t know that her mother has another house, where she goes to work in order to find her muse; her inspiration to write and to avoid her tragedy of a family. They don’t know that her father’s cheating on her mother. They don't know that is business trips could be a plane ride to Japan, promising his mistress money for her shopping spree. Mari and her mom know, but they tolerate it to give the illusion of a perfect family. With both of her parents not home, she doesn’t want to stay home either. Mari decides to leave home by entering classes – language classes with Himae, volleyball camp with Jisun and maybe even film camp (she despises the media). And every year for a semester, she would leave to go on exchange programs, but this time she decided to go for a full year. Himae guesses it’s because her family problems got worst, maybe her parents are arguing more often, maybe they’re getting a divorce. She doesn’t know nor does she ask.

Despite Mari’s well hidden past, in school she tries to be herself. Quiescent but insanely sharp, a big slur from Himae and Jisun known for their frivolous spending and big affluence – that’s who Mari is.

“Jisun’s gotten better,” Mari remarks, “If that’s possible.”

“Volleyball MVP for sure,” Himae comments and Mari nods.

“Definitely.”

“Hey Mari, why did you come back a week early?” Himae asks. Himae hasn’t slept a wink after the recherché Mari came over from her unexpected visit this morning. There was simply too much to catch up that they couldn’t achieve over the video calls.

“Technically, the school year isn’t over yet. It’s still the exam period but my exams were scheduled on the first date of testing so I’m basically finished. All that’s left is to get my marks which will be sent to me here.” Mari says and Himae knows from the darken bags and the lethargic gestures.

“Where were you again, Paris?”

Mari nods, “Oui.”

Himae stifles a laugh and nudges her, “Don’t tell me you left for a year and only learned ‘oui.’ Tu me déçois.” [You disappoint me] Himae can’t forget the early language classes she enrolled in for the sake of her family’s business. Her parents insisted that it’s convenient and beneficial to learn a few basic phrases in English, French and Mandarin. Himae’s confident in her English and can speak basic French but along her path, she learned Japanese. Her grandma was always influenced by the Japanese culture so summer trips there aren’t unusual. Her Mandarin on the other hand is a disappointment.

“Enlighten me on my disappointment, m’dear? I think I did well. You should have applied for the exchange program as well; you have a good grasp of the language.”

Himae shakes her head, “I don’t think I can leave for a year, I’m not that independent.”

“You’ve gotten a lot thinner, is it because of Grandma?” Ever since they were little, Himae, Jisun and Mari would play in her house, maybe in the backyard, maybe in the wading pool or play dolls in Himae’s room, but there was always something consistent about every adventure – they’d always be welcome by her grandma’s homemade cookies in the end. It was the taste of home, warmth, hard work and love, not the usual manufactured, distant, cold and dry cookies bought from the stores or made by top chefs.

Himae nods, “I’ve decided to start a professional career in Ballet, so a part of it is from practicing.”

“Really?” Mari stares at Himae skeptically. She’s seen Himae dance, it’s breathtakingly beautiful and exorbitantly exquisite but there was something it lacked.  It wasn’t the same when Jisun played the piano. She was serious but anyone that can tell that she loves doing it, she loves playing the piano.

“Yeah, it’s kind of late but I can’t slack off,” Himae smiles and Mari accepts that Himae wants to start a professional career even if she isn’t happy. Maybe she’ll grow to love it like how Mari learned to love languages.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Grandma?” Mari tries to mask the hurt but Himae can see it.

“It was exams for you, I couldn’t.”

Mari smiles in understanding, “When’s a good day to visit her then?”

“Tomorrow?”

Mari nods, “Perfect.”

The other team scores a point after a fist clenching rally and the other school’s sneering at us. Himae looks at the opposing school team’s colors and can’t help but wonder –

“He came back a day earlier than I did.” Mari tries to sneak it in casually but Himae’s been expecting this.

“Okay.”

Himae had expected him to be here since it’s his team against hers. For the past two years or so, her relationship with him had been complicated, or rather bland. She thinks she likes him, maybe less but there’s definitely something there but over the course of the years when he went on that exchange program, she didn’t feel an ounce of longing for him. Both of them know this but keep this heartless relationship going on like his school and her school expected them to. He goes to another school that holds the same prestige as NOA so having two of the influential figures together made it look good.

Suddenly someone walks through their game door and Himae stares down as the people downstairs turn their heads towards him, just to gawk at him. He looks up and finds Himae and smiles. Himae smiles back but Mari knows what’s happening.

“Why do you guys torture yourself with it?”  

Himae shrugs, “We were never serious about it.” It all came about because of some alcohol, some sugar coated words and maybe some invigorating feelings between the two. Now that feeling’s gone with the wind, dead with the corpse and lost deep in the soil. Both of them don’t care enough to end it, the embraces are lacking, the kisses mean nothing and there are no phone calls.

“Himae, no one’s expecting you to continue.” Mari says sympathetically. She’s always been one of the luckier princesses, maybe it’s because she’s been in and out of NOA so much that people are more lenient towards her. She doesn’t have to gossip, doesn't have to bring fake smiles or carry herself around parties.

Himae looks around the crowded gym and meets some of the people’s eyes. They quickly look away, intimated, embarrassed. They’re always watching, always expecting, the voice whispers and she concurs.

“It’s okay Mari, I can handle it.”

Himae feels someone’s heat and she inwardly sighs but outwardly smiles. “You’re back,” she says, leaning back against his chest.

His hands rest on the handrail, almost trapping her within him. He smiles. “Missed me?”

She nods, “Yup.” He leans forward to peck her on the lips and from the corner of her eyes, she sees people looking at them and then suddenly whispering rushed words to their friends. Always watching, always expecting.





“Junhyung, are you ever going to come back home?” His father teases on the phone and Junhyung tries to laugh but his lips are too dry. He ran out of water during practice a few hours ago but there was no time for a refill or any junior trainees for him to send to the fountain.

“I’ll be home sometime next week,” Junhyung says.

“Also, the school’s been calling, saying you’ve either been late or missing classes.” His father suddenly sounds stern, expecting a reasonably good explanation from him. His father never opposed his dreams of being a singer on the condition that he continues with his education.

“Sorry about that. Practice runs pretty late.” He can’t promise that he’ll try to come more often, he can’t promise that his marks will be higher but he can promise that he won’t regret it.  

“It’s okay, just be happy. We’ll be supporting you,” his father says and Junhyung nod.

“Will do, I think I’ll head to the practice room now.”

“Don’t be overworking yourself too much, okay?” His father makes him promise and Junhyung while rolling his eyes does promise.





So the news at NOA is that the girls’ senior volleyball team is going to be heading to the provincials and the school board is proud of this achievement. Jisun’s enjoying her time with the comments, praises and looks of awe. Himae’s happy for her, Mari’s happy for her and everyone tries to be. Unfortunately, the opposing school – Windsor School of the Art aka WSA – aren’t that happy and most of the students rejected the uninvited invitations to the party as Jisun’s in celebration for it.

“They’ll be the ones missing out,” Mari says, lifting her eyes from the book. It’s another language book; Himae thinks it’s a kanji book or something.

“You just came back Ri, stop reading,” Jisun whines and Mari gives in and tucks her book away. “Why didn’t you call me for the super sleepover this morning?”

“Jiji, because of provincials, you’re barely sleeping. We didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” Himae remarks and Jisun rolls her eyes.

“Sleep’s for the weak.”

“Then why are you covering your eye bag?” Mari questions, a hint of laugher in her voice.

“A year in France didn’t change you; you’re still the fun killer,” Jisun sticks out her tongue and Mari’s rolling her eyes. The same batches of witty comebacks between Jisun and Mari never get boring. It’s nice to have Mari back.





“Where’s Myunghan?” A passerby, friend A at the party yells to his friend B.

“Himae’s missing, do the math.” Friend B responds, smirking and a knowing smile graces friend A’s lips.


Himae thinks that all she does when she sees Myunghan is greet, kiss, then say goodbye. There’s neither space nor time to talk, to think, just physical contact with no feelings. Dry affections mixed together creates something even drier, and it continues until it’s too desiccated to be fixed. She wants everything to stop, she doesn’t want any more cracks.

“Stop. Myunghan, stop!” Himae says over the strident music and pushes him away with more force, glaring at his confused eyes.

“Wha—what’s wrong?”

“I said stop.” Himae enunciates the words and watches as Myunghan clenches his jaws in anger. She looks around and realizes that there are people staring now, Myunghan feels humiliated – but she can’t tell if his pink face is from anger or alcohol. Too much alcohol isn’t good.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?!” He yells at her but she doesn’t recoil, she stands her ground.

“Nothing! You just never listen, jerk!” Maybe it’s the influence of alcohol that she’s yelling too. She’s almost grateful to use that excuse because everyone believes that. Alcohol changes people for a brief moment.  

“Are you joking me? I do listen. I listen to everything you say, even the stupid little shrieks about the latest bags.” He flails his arms in annoyance.

“I don’t need someone who passively listens.” She says through gritted teeth and turns her back to him, crossing her arms. Leave leave leave.

She hears him yell in frustration, kicks something. Then he says something low, she was certain only she could hear it: “You’ve changed Himae.” Then there are footsteps and she stands there, shun and frozen. What has she done? She watches him disappearing and she knows she should run after him, apologize and kiss him but she doesn’t want to. He’s gone and Himae leaves the party, head pulsing from a headache.

‘You’ve changed, you’ve changed, you’ve changed’  is all she hears and thinks: for better or for worst?





Himae’s dad wakes up and feels the sore aches from his joints. Ten hour plane rides are never good for your body but they have to be endured for the sake of his family and the business. It’s seven something in the morning when he wakes up so he takes the opportunity to make breakfast. The maids look at him in concern and worry as he tries to remember where everything is. He forgets, or rather, it’s been too long.

It’s now almost seven forty-five and Himae still isn’t down yet. Himae’s dad grows impatient and calls the nanny down. “Mrs. Kang, where’s Himae this morning? I thought she missed a day of school yesterday because she was sick.” A look of surprise crosses her face.

“The young mistress is out on her morning jog, sir.” She says and this time, it’s his turn to be surprised.

“Morning jog? When did she start this routine?”

Mrs. Kang ponders for a while, “Ever since Mrs. Haejung passed away.”

Himae's dad grew worried for a bit. After his mother, Himae’s grandmother, passed away, he and his wife slave themselves away at work to cope with their lost, but with their daughter, they’ve made sure she’s okay physically. They’ve never been home often to properly see her, to give her the warmth of a family.

“Are there –” he’s worried, “Any changes with Himae lately?”

Mrs. Kang thinks again but this time, the answer was faster. “She’s been eating out a lot more and practicing more. She sometimes comes home too tired to eat and just sleeps.”

He nods, moderately satisfied. Just then, Himae opens the door and her eyes widen at the sight of her father in an apron. “Dad? You’re up early,” she comments, taking off her sneakers.

“How are you feeling?”

Himae looks surprise at his remark but then remembers that she told him that she’s sick, that’s why she wasn’t at school. It certainly wasn’t because of the headache she received that morning or the fear of the rumors circulating around NOA. It certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m feeling better. You didn’t answer my question though,” she says.

“Your mom’s not back yet so I thought we could have our father-daughter moments,” he offers and she nods.

“That sounds great, I’ll be down in five minutes.” She quickly dashes up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She releases her hair from the tight elastic and she changes, her designated outfit for the day sprawl on her bed. She takes a deep breath and walks to her bathroom. She sees the scale and carefully, puts one foot on it. She sees the number jump as fast as her heartbeat and closes her eyes to put the other foot on. She feels the small vibration of the scale stop jumping and she opens her eyes.

A little bit of her cries. A little bit of her dies. She wants to disappear. This overwhelming wave of disappointment ripples inside of her and she’s splashing water on her face to try to stop the first bit of tears.

Ever since the ballet incident when she would diet to look like her character, she started eating little by little but the feeling of having food lounging in her stomach sickened her. She knew it wasn’t right for a person to feel ashamed of eating but she also knew that she didn’t want to gain weight – she couldn’t. More practices, morning jogs, some light stretches before bed and a close watch on her food intake should sustain that weight, but it didn’t. It seemed as if the voice was pressing their feet on the scale when she wasn’t looking, when she was gawking at the scale. But it was true that she’s losing weight but the numbers are never satisfying no matter what she does. Now numbers are everywhere. They get smaller but they mostly stay big – like her.

She sits on the edge of the bed, trying to fake ideas as to how to skip breakfast. Could she skip her father’s hard work at maintaining their relationship, at trying to strengthen it? She decides that as much as she wants to look perfect, her family weighted more (no irony there).

She walks down the stairs, poking her head through the kitchen to look inside. It smelled delicious and it made her stomach stir. Her stomach wanted food, she needed to eat but she didn’t want any of that.

“It smells good, you should stay home and cook more often,” she says, taking her usual seat at the outstretch dining table.

“I would love to but duty calls me back at the office this afternoon,” he tries to pass it off without looking at the hurt and understanding in Himae’s eyes.

She nods, “Have fun.”





After fifteen minutes, Himae’s dad grows tired of seeing Himae like this. “Himae, is the surgery done?” He gestures to her breakfast now mashed and jumbled to little crumbs. Himae puts her knife down and stares at it. The eggs are unrecognizable with the white bits everywhere and they’re certainly too small to pick up now, therefore too small to eat. She’s gotten better at pounding her food now.

Himae grows guilty, he notice. The voice tells her to act natural and she does. “I’m not really hungry,” she lies. She hates how easy it is to lie and how addicting it is. After one lie, it’s okay to lie again and this cycle of mistrust and lies circulate again and again – maybe forever.

“It’s okay, just try to eat since you just came back from jogging.”

She looks up and timidly nods.

But that would ruin my plan.

When Himae kisses her father goodbye on the cheek and gets out of the car, her father looks back at Mrs. Kang with disquiet eyes. “Keep a close eye on Himae for any changes. If anything’s suspicious, let me know immediately.”

The nanny nods and he’s rubbing his temples.

He can’t afford to lose Himae.





Jisun’s probing to find out what happened after the party at lunchtime. Myunghan left, blinded by anger and Himae knows there’s hurt lingering but she’s not vocal about it. Himae left soon after Myunghan left with no excuse, just rushed out the door.

“You guys weren’t happy together?” Jisun ask, jabbing her fork at the piece of salad.

Himae shakes her head, “I’m not sure about him but I had happy moments, I just thought they could be happier.”

Mari gives her the raise brows, her way of asking of what’s wrong and Himae smiles dimly. She doesn’t know what to say about Myunghan and herself. They didn’t break up, instead they’re not on the best terms at the moment. Should she break up with him? It’s not like their feelings are keeping them together, they don’t have anything to linger with one another.

“Do you still like him?” Jisun faintly whispers but people still hear them. People look their way and more importantly, at Himae. Himae gives all of them a frown and they turn back, but their ears are perked up, always listening.

Himae almost thanks the busybody students because she was render speechless. She didn’t know how to answer that question but it was so simple. It’s either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’ Yes, she does like him or no, she doens’t – but why was it so hard? Mari caught Himae’s confused glance and softly smiled.

“Jisun,” Mari warns and Jisun apologizes.

“If you’re unhappy, then there’s no point in the relationship. If something does happen, you know who to call,” Jisun says and gives Himae a little wink.

Himae chuckles and nudges Jisun, “I know I know.”





That night, she sits down to stare at her phone. What is Myunghan and herself now? They weren’t a couple, and they weren’t just friends. It wasn’t that simple. She contemplates calling Myunghan but what good would it do? So she opts to text him when her eyes peer over their previous conversations and notice how...general it seem. Hey, what are you doing? Bored? What did you eat for dinner? Have fun!

She scraps that idea and decides to call him instead. She almost hangs up on the fifth ring when she hears him pick up the phone. There was a pause; she didn’t know what to say.

“Himae?”

“Yeah – uh, I wanted to talk.” Please, let the conversation get more awkward.

“Okay.” He was letting her completely take the lead because in all honesty, he didn’t know how or where to even start.  

“I think we’ve been trying for too long,” Himae stammers, not knowing what she wants to say, let alone choosing the right words. What words could possibly be ‘suitable’ for a break up?

“Trying is good.” Myunghan knows where it's heading, how it's going to end. He doesn't know if he wants it to.

“Not when we’re not happy.” Sometimes Himae wishes she were the blunt Jisun. With her ingenuous words and almost callous glares to whomever she could care less for, she would be perfect at this. "It’s over," "Let’s break up," "I don’t think we’d work out."

“Himae, what happened when I was gone? I come back and you’re suddenly rejecting me,” Myunghan questions and she could hear the frustration in his voice.

“Nothing happened Myunghan. It’s been like this for almost a year and a half but we’ve been turning a blind eye on it.”

There’s more silence with the few intake of breath from both sides.

“Do you really want us to end?” Myunghan sounds like he’s almost pleading her to reconsider but she knows it’s not for his or her sake; it’s for everyone’s sake.

“Do you really like me, Myunghan? Answer me honestly.” Himae challenges him and when there’s a slight pause on the other end, she knows the answer.

“I’m sorry Himae. It’s not that I don’t like you, I just...I don’t know, confused?”

“Don’t apologize. Honesty, when Jisun asked me that question, I didn’t know how to answer.”

“So you called to break up with me?”

Himae stops breathing for a second, was that her only purpose? Call to break up? Not to mention, a break up over the phone? This was a pretty harsh thing to do.  

“I’m sorry.”

“Would you stay if I asked you to?”

Himae bites back a response. She knew her answer but she didn’t want to hurt him – it’s ironic because she’s already hurting him.

“Never mind, that’s a stupid question. I’ll go now.” He hangs up before she could react. She sits in the silence of her room, staring into the vain space. Isn’t she supposed to cry? To choke from her sobs because she just broke up with her 'boyfriend' of two years? But she doesn’t feel that, she just feels empty – and cold. She feels as if she isn’t in ‘contact’ with herself anymore, she doesn’t know how to satisfy herself, what she really wants anymore. With no aspiration to do anything productive, she skips dinner and heads to bed.

You’ve screwed up big time, what are you going to do now?

I don’t know.





She feels guilty the next day so she takes extra long to saunter down the stairs. The ground beneath her starts shaking and she’s forced to grip the railing. She closes her eyes and tries to channel out the queasy feeling of falling but it doesn’t help. It must be from skipping breakfast, she thinks. She remembers rushing out the door in the morning to meet Jisun since Jisun wanted to know ‘everything.’ It turns out Mari was there already. Himae ended up telling them everything. She feels a little ashamed to see Jisun and Mari but she doesn’t know what she’s ashamed of.

A few students stop and stare at her, worried but they ignore her. One time, a girl from the yearbook committee told her that she gave off this unreachable ‘aura.’ The students felt uncomfortable around her, inferior whenever they saw her down the hallway. Maybe she should have asked her why they felt that way because right now, she felt like a piece of art at a museum, for them to gawk at. She keeps her eyes on the ground until she passes the door, realizing that she past the cafeteria. She looks back and looks ahead and decides that she needs to get away.

Skipping class sounds like a good plan but where could she go? She usually skipped when there were useless substitute teachers or useless presentations but she was always with her friends, they always had plans – now she’s alone and that feeling of losing aspiration came back. She really has no objective if she’s not catering to other people’s expectation.

She feels a slight nudge at her side and turns when she sees the person walk ahead.

Himae smiles softly, “What was that for?”

“You’re standing in other people’s way.” He simply remarks, walking ahead without turning back. She frowns and quickly catches up with him.

“That doesn’t mean you should push them around.” She teases and Junhyung smirks.

“I can’t stand all day, waiting for you to move.”  Junhyung shrugs. Waiting for me to move, she interpreted that sentence differently than what he meant.

“Where are you going?”

“Usual spot, under the tree.” He says, settling down against the bark.

“I’m joining you today,” Himae decides immediately and plops down next to Junhyung.

“A fight with your friend?” Junhyung asks and Himae shakes her head.

“It’s nice to get away sometimes.”

“So what am I? Your convenient getaway?” He jokes and she chuckles.

“You could say that,” she replies, a smile still on her lips.

“Better make use of it while it’s here. We have less than two years at this school.” Two years seem so long, yet it doesn’t. University applications in a year, prom, graduation, then awards – oh gosh, awards. Himae looks at Junhyung and feel this barrier between them. While she’s fretting about all of this, he’s probably thinking about debuting, rapping, performing, graduation, and maybe university. Despite the clashes, she finds this sense of comfort, as if he’s the only one reminding her that reality isn’t that demanding, that cruel, that it could be almost pleasant.

“Sometimes I think I depend on you too much.” Himae says suddenly, taking her water bottle from her bag. Her fingertips go numb at the slight contact with the cold surface.  

“It’s better than being alone.”

“Maybe, or it’d be better if everyone wasn’t so nosy.” Himae retorts and almost wish that she hadn’t. This was the first time she’s ever voice her opinion about this to anyone other than Jisun or Mari, but she could feel this compelling trust towards Junhyung. She trusts that he won’t sell her out.

“What? About you and Myunghan?” A blithe amusement is heard and she groans at the thought of that topic again.

“Junhyung, not you too,” Himae chuckles, taking more sips from her water bottle. She shivers at the coldness as the water’s icy fingers branch out inside of her, turning everything to ice. Ice sculptures are pretty though.

“I have no interest whatsoever, just trying to keep the conversation,” he shrugs, looking at her blank stare. She comes back and her eyes are glowing again.

She smiles, grateful for him. “Well, I’m surprise the relationship last so long.” She looks at him, unfazed by her confession but his eyes give him away. She sees a bit of surprise? “It’s not that surprising, is it?”

He slightly shakes his head, “Relationships in high school don’t last long. We’re too naive so I kind of expected you to break up.”

“You’re the only one that sees that, it’s as if everyone at NOA expects me to live happily with him like those fairytales – the prince and princess together, it makes sense.”

He remembers how she wasn’t fond of being referred to as the ‘princess’ but now she’s using it to describe herself and Myunghan. Junhyung wasn’t the type to eavesdrop on the latest gossip but when everyone was whispering about it, he couldn’t help. “Then why did you decide to break it off? I quote this from some girls: ‘You guys were so perfect together.’”

She laughs at his quote and Junhyung smiles to himself. As much as she doesn’t show it, he can tell that Himae’s a little affected by this break up. “I liked him for a bit in the beginning of our freshman year, then we started going out and I found out that I didn’t like him as much as I thought I did. I knew that he knew as well but we kept acting because there were more reasons to be together than to break up.”

“You can’t view everything as a give-and-take though. The world isn’t a business trade where you would benefit from it. Himae, we’re still in high school, you still need to live.” He reasons with her and she shrugs.

“I know. It wasn’t the best break up, I doubt I’d ever talk to him again but we had fun in the first year of our relationship and now we’re free from each other. Or in your words, ‘the contract is over.’” She closes her eyes and leans against the tree bark, feeling the coarse wood but the sunlight tanning her, makinge it comfortable. “Though, I warn you. People might talk if I’m here with you.”

“They’re talking about me already, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

He sees a smile slip again and she slightly tilts her head to find a more comfortable angle. “Sleepy?”

She nods, “Can you tell me when lunch break’s over?”

“Sure, sweet dreams Princess.” He jokes and her eyes dart open, glaring venomously at him. “I’m joking. Go to sleep Himae.”

“Thanks Junhyung.” She dozes off a few moments later and her head slides to rest on his shoulder. He makes no motion to move her away but shifts so she can rest it more easily. She found the most comfortable spot she could find.

Junhyung catches a few people staring at them, some walking by, some from the window but he ignores them. Even in her sleep, people are watching, are judging. It's tragic how her life's projected through a glass window. People can choose to walk by or stop and stare  –  it's usually the latter. When he tries to shift her head, his hand suddenly recoils at the coldness he felt. He thinks for a bit, he thinks of the past few days, to few weeks and even traces back to the time of her grandma's death. He doesn't recall her eating when she came here or the other times either. He immediately looks back at the sleeping figure beside him and he’s taken in how small she’s gotten.





After school, she sits quietly at the back of the car while her driver, Mr. Kim, drives silently. Her hand’s curled around Junhyung’s small gift. A cookie, a simple cookie. He woke her up, saying that she didn’t eat so he gave her his cookie. She smiled. What a precious friend.

When they arrive home, Himae stalks upstairs to her room when she feels her stomach rumbling and complaining for food. She feels her arms going slightly numb but shakes it off and quickens her pace. She ends up tripping on the last step and this causes a big ruckus as the maids, nanny and other people to assist her, asking her if she’s okay. She feels embarrassed by the sudden attention and assures everyone that she’s fine. Despite the impact, the cookie’s still fine – there are more crumbs but still in shape. She decides to treat herself to the cookie but inches before it reaches her month, she stops and mentally counts the calories, how much potential weight she could gain. Before she knows it, the cookie crumples from her hold and Himae stares at the crumbs on the floor. She drops to her knees and just stares at it, trying to pick up the pieces and dispose all of it in the trash can.

Himae’s confused now, that split thought turned into anxiety, anger and so much fear. The shaking isn't normal, the burst of tears aren't normal either, but they're mental differences. Physically, she's still the same. Same eyes, same face, same person but she notices the different body.  Lack of appetite, more jogging, whispers in her mind, skipping meals, bits of anger fed by her frustration over her weight, looking at herself in every reflection possible whether it's  windows in a store, mirrors or a puddle of water – a need to criticize herself. At the same time, she needs to save herself, to comfort herself, to tell herself that she's okay.

She looks around, trying to find a solution in the air. She finds it in the form of her laptop, the internet. She gets one striking solution. Anorexia Nervosa. The symptoms seem so familiar, the anorectics expressing their thoughts, and the fear of gaining weight. Shaking her head, Himae denies it. Online assessments aren’t trusted but she does fear, she does anything to help lie to herself that she’s fine – but what’s fine?

She gets her result and she yelps at the pain she receives from her nails digging into her palms. She looks at her palms and they’re litter with half crescents. She runs down the stairs, past the maids and Mrs. Kang to the kitchen. They all stare at Himae in surprise, it’s been a while since she’s been in the kitchen, let alone open the fridge. Himae finds what she needs, tells Mrs. Kang quietly and runs back upstairs. Mrs. Kang doesn’t hear anything from Himae afterwards and assumes she’s busy.  


Himae’s finish her homework and turns back to look at her room. She sees the plate of flan on her coffee table, abandoned an hour ago. Just one bite, one bite and that’s enough to convince her that she doesn’t have an eating disorder, she’s not anorectic, it’s just a phase, she hears herself say. She walks slowly to the coffee table and plants herself down in front of the flan.

Her fingers hold onto the spoon, slashing a piece of the flan and slowly, ever so slowly, lift the spoon into . She’s never felt so disgusted before, literally feeling the remnants of the chewed flan crawl down . I ate food, I ate unhealthy food, I’m going to be fat. She hears herself think and before she could stop it, she feels the tears gushing out of her eyes.

She runs to the bathroom, her hands holding onto the ledge of her sink as she feels the energy draining out of her. She looks at herself in the mirror, mascara running, red eyes and hair shambolic. She cringes at the perception of herself in the mirror but she hears something else, drumming at her. See what you’ve done? You ate and now you’re a mess. You disgust me. She opens her eyes and looks at herself again, more clearly, analyzing any bit of imperfection. The roll of fat, the extra skin on her thighs, and the ugliness that makes her. She has to get rid of it.

Don’t go back on your words. 





Mari and Jisun grow worried as Himae starts disappearing at lunchtime. She’s subtle about it, excuses about going to the washroom, printing stuff at the library, some meeting or just a getaway to talk to Junhyung. They don’t know what’s going on but it’s as if she grows more and more tired, she takes more and more time to walk up the stairs. Jisun’s fretting over provincials so she can’t afford any time to waste but still sends Himae text messages, invites her to lunch even though Himae always says she can’t come. Mari decides to take action by sleeping over at Himae’s. Mari used to live in Jisun's and Himae’s houses all the time, so the house keepers were all used to her.

Himae finds it difficult to eat with Mari at the table. Taking long, torturous bites of her food, she watches Mari.

“I assume you don’t like dinner tonight?” Mari says and Himae stops dissecting the portion of her food. She looks up, eyes wary of Mari as she waits for a response.

“It’s good, I’m too tired to appreciate it.” With Jisun, Himae can shrug it with a comment (and maybe a little rant) but with Mari, it’s a different story. She has to choose her words because words are ambiguous, they hold several meanings and Mari is known to be very figurative and imaginative.

“Next time we’ll make dinner with Jisun like last time, it’ll be so much fun.”

Yeah, fun.





When both of them are snuggled in bed, Himae finds herself losing to sleep pretty fast, but Mari’s determine to take advantage of her lethargy.

“Mae, if anything happens, you’ll tell me right?” Mari whispers and Himae nods.

“Of course.” The guilt builds up and she closes her eyes, maybe if she can’t see reality then it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. But the only way to hide from reality is to die, and she wasn’t sure if she’s ready for that yet.

“Then why aren’t you telling me that you’re not eating?” Mari can’t use the word ‘starving.’ It sounds so close to death, she can’t.  

Himae’s breath takes a sharp hitch and Mari notices it. Mari sits up and so does Himae, they stare at each other. Himae's contemplating on what to say, what to lie. Mari’s just waiting, watching the flickers of emotions in Himae’s eyes but what surprises her is that the fireworks of fright. She’s so scared.

“I’m not starving myself.”

Mari can’t believe it. Himae just full out lied to her, despite her eyes starting to glimmer with tears, she’s lying. “Himae, I can see it. Even though Jisun’s busy with volleyball but she’s starting to notice it too. Don’t –”

“I appreciate you guys for caring but Mari, it’s not that complicated.” Himae assures her – but she swears she can see the flashing result of the online assessment: “You are at high risk of developing an eating disorder (or you already have one). Please seek a full medical evaluation immediately; counselling is also highly recommended.”

Even the websites are begging her to get help. She wants to chuckle at their ignorance, what do they know.

“Himae, I can see it. I can see you getting thinner and thinner and I’m scared. I’m worried for you, please. Please tell me what’s going on.”

Himae swallows past the lump in . “Nothing,” she emphasis, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Mari doesn’t want to object her, to tell her that something’s wrong, that she needs help but what can she do? Drag her to a doctor, force her to talk? “Himae, we’re best friends. Please, remember that.”

“I know we are but honestly, you’re overreacting.” Himae reaches over to hug Mari tight. Mari can’t help but feel the shapes of bones and the cold blood hugging her, not her best friend, not someone who’s living.

“I hope I’m wrong.”


But they both know that Mari’s smart, she isn’t wrong most of the time but who knows, there are sometimes flukes, there are mistakes. Like her.



I’m here again. ~ This time, my designated name is Phoebe! It sounds different from Noelle and Evelyn, right? But it’s still me. I got inside information from Jena that the two new characters, Mari and Myunghan, were initially suppose to appear near the middle-half of the story but some things  changed. Your thoughts on the two new characters? Not needed or not quite sure what their purposes are? Personally, I feel like Mari’s a more developed character than Jisun but not as independent as Mari would like herself to be. Myunghan seems like the typical jock high school boy but we haven’t seen enough of him to judge, so no comments so far.

So, in this chapter, we hear new terms like anorexia nervosa and eating disorder. Himae’s in denial of having such things thus she forces herself to eat. If all patients could resolve their inner conflicts like this, then there wouldn’t be so many people suffering from it. Is this just a denial stage or should she seek help? Remember that seeking help isn’t always very easy and is sometimes viewed as a sign of weakness – one of Himae’s philosophies is: one must aspire to stay strong no matter what. Opps, I already revealed too much! :c 
 

Not many Junhyung and Himae moments in this, makes me sad. :(But Jena! I think I’ve spoken too much, one of your readers think I’m the OC in   Junhyung x OC. I’m terribly sorry for the misconception, I will be making a small (itty bitty) appearance but it’s not a big role – it could all be subject to change. Jena is a person with many (too many) ideas and wants. My segment runs short today but hopefully, some of my words can clue you in Himae’s mind and a deeper insight of the other characters.

~ Phoebe





C O M M E N T


First of all, sorry it took me five months to update. I'm not going to lie, this fanfiction is the hardest one to write so far. For this chapter alone, I've made three major revisions and adjusted the scenes like a thousand times T^T Not to mention all the extra research and reading but it's all worth it ^__^! There's a lot to take in this chapter (and in the later on chapters) but please bear with me, feel free to ask questiosn! How are my lovelies doing lately? Exams are coming up, right? Study hard and get flying colors~~ Also, thoughts on Myunghan and Mari?