She’s drunk. It’s an odd sort of realisation, because she’s never been truly drunk before. Not really. She’s only ever been the kind of tipsy that gives you the happy buzz and the sudden laughter that alcohol always seems to cause. She doesn’t remember how much she drank. She stopped counting after the last blue thing Sungyeol handed her.

And now he’s got his hands on her hips and is twirling her drunkenly to the music. They’re laughing and having a good time and it’s great because she can forget how stressful the exams have been. She’s lost weight, and the pretty red and black striped dress is a little looser than it used to be. That doesn’t bother Sungyeol, though. He can still see her cleavage, and when his hand slips inside to cup her , she laughs up at him instead of moving away.

He captures her lips in a kiss that tastes of beer, and that’s when she pulls away. No, not tonight, she whispers. Maybe another day.

He looks hurt and abruptly lets go of her, and she suddenly realises that he’s not as drunk as she thought. She can’t give him what he wants, though. She’s not ready. I’m not ready, she pleads, hands grasping the edge of his t-shirt.

You’re never ready, he says, and walks away as 2NE1’s Ugly comes on. And it’s true. She never is. Not since…well, he doesn’t know why. He should understand anyway, her drunken mind tells her.

She knows that he really does like her, but after Hoya, it’s just not possible to let go. She has scars, and Sungyeol can look, but he can’t touch. It’s given her the reputation of a tease, but she isn’t, not really. She’s just busy with exams and her own personal hang-ups.

People start singing along with the song, and she bites her lip, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. I think I’m ugly and no one wants to love me. Something everyone thinks, sooner or later. She used to think it all the time, before Hoya. And then he told her she was pretty, but that soon turned to pretty ugly and stupid.  So she started to believe it, instead of just thinking it. Hoya said he was the only one who’d have her, the only one who’d want such a worthless .

She wasn’t with him now. It had taken her mother seeing the one physical bruise he’d given her to ban her from seeing him. She’d waved it off as walking into the door, but her brother had seen him hit her as he’d dropped her off home after a ‘date’. The only thing she had done was chat to the cute popcorn vendor at the cinema. That made it all the more shameful, the fact that her little brother had watched as he made her pathetic and worthless. Hoya had tried to apologise, make it seem like an accident, but both of her brothers refused to let him in the house. She left for university the next week.

Funny. He’d always told her she was too stupid for university, yet here she was, doing fairly well. Her mother told her to be thankful that she’d applied for university before Hoya had become the cruel man he was.

She wants to call back Sungyeol, tell him she doesn’t mean it, but she can’t. Her arms wrap tightly around her abdomen, as she wishes she’d just let him continue and kissed back. She should be ready. It’s been over six months since she last saw him, she should be over it by now.

She doesn’t quite grasp that she’s crying until Sunggyu, one of Sungyeol’s friends, a little older than them both, asks her if she’s okay, his expression concerned. I’m not alright, she wants to say. I’m never alright. The combination of this and exam stress makes it all worse. But she doesn’t tell him that, shaking her head and taking the tissue he proffers.

There’s a chair on her left, and she sinks down into it, thinking that Sungyeol will most likely find another girl who will accept his kisses tonight. He deserves it. He’s sweet and caring, if a little childish and silly at times.

She stays there for a moment before deciding to go. There’s nothing to keep her here anymore, and if she drinks anymore, she’ll get so drunk she won’t remember anything. She half hopes that she’s that drunk already, so this horrible moment will be lost to her memory. She’s never been that lucky, though.

Her room is dark and quiet when she comes in, her roommate absent and the dorm almost silent, because it’s the last day of finals and the party was a celebration of that. Her phone is also silent on her bedside table, no text or call alerts to give her a feeling of being wanted. But Sungyeol wouldn’t call, not after he’s been snubbed. He’s sweet, but he’s still a guy, after all.

She types in a message, erases it, and tries again. I’m sorry, she sends. She considers writing ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, but while the cliché is true in this situation, it will only make matters worse. Sleep won’t come tonight, she knows, so she doesn’t undress.  Doing work at this late, drunken hour isn’t an option, either, and there’s no one to do anything with because they’re not here.

So she leaves the dorm once more, her phone left on the table because she’s an idiot and doesn’t want to take it. She stumbles in high heels to the nearest bar, one she doesn’t know well, because she’s not really a drinker. It’s not far, but she hears the intoxicated cat calls of men around her and it feels longer.

The bartender is a small, slim man whose name-tag reads ‘Ryeowook’, and who doesn’t yell at her when she stares at him uncomprehendingly after he asks her what she wants to drink. It takes her a minute, but she asks for a Cosmo, because she’s drunk and that’s what they always drink in the TV shows.

She doesn’t like the taste, and after a couple of sips, she pushes it away, groaning to herself as she remembers unit intake and how you’re not supposed to mix drinks.

I think you should go home, the bartender, Ryeowook says gently. This isn’t your place. She shakes her head stubbornly, learning that when drunk, she is less likely to listen to common sense.

There’s a chatter of loud laughing and snickers in the corner, and she turns around to see who is making such a racket. It’s a group of people from the party, obviously bored of dancing but keen to keep on drinking. With a jolt of recognition, she sees Sungyeol with an arm around a pretty classmate of hers and she looks away.

So she was right. He did find someone more receptive. Ryeowook’s gaze is on her once more. Go home, little one, he tells her.

This time she does, shakily dropping five thousand-won notes on the bar and walking out on unsteady legs. It hurts more than she expected, and she hears the old refrain of worthless, worthless, worthless rushing in her ears. She thinks it is too disturbingly familiar, as it drowns out the noises of the city night-life.

When she returns to her room once more, there is a message flashing on her phone. It is from Sungyeol. It simply says ‘Okay’, and it is devoid of his usual smileys and assurances he’ll see her tomorrow. She drops the phone on the floor, and tears trailing down her cheeks, she curses the scars Hoya has left once more.