The rain poured hard.

I sighed from my window and pulled the collar of my trench coat to my neck.  

It’s going to be really cold outside.

I was ready to leave. I slowly walked outside of my bedroom and stopped by the doorframe to turn off the lights. I took one last look behind me—everything was neat. I did enjoy cleaning and arranging things during my free time and lately I had been getting a lot of that. I looked back in front of me and closed the door.

Outside was the hall to my living room.

I had been living on my own now.

We had been living on our own.

Seven years into this business, the company finally allowed us to get out of the dorm on our fifth year. And with the money we’ve managed to save from all the promotions we had done, we bought ourselves these investments. Some members decided to remain together as roommates, while some decided to take on the new chapter alone, like myself.

My home was quite large, too large for one girl to settle in. There was a gorgeous kitchen I never really got to use, and where I had just been was my bedroom with a closet the same size as the closet where all our stage outfits were stored in the attic of our dorm. And here I was now at my large, grey, minimal living room.

Everything seemed as in place as the things in my bedroom. But sometimes whenever the girls would come to visit, it would always be left as though an earthquake had come to shake everything out of their positions. I paid no mind though. Whenever the girls were around, the living room never failed to bring me back to those times at our old dorm. It was the good times.

I grabbed my keys from the table at the foyer and made my way out of my apartment.

As I was about to start my car, my phone went off.

“Minari, where are you?” An aegyo came into my ear. I didn’t get a chance to see who it was calling, but I didn’t need to look at a name to know the figure on the other line.

Sana, my best friend, the personality that popularized “ShyShyShy” from our Cheer Up era.

“I’m on my way,” I tell her, twisting my car key in the ignition.

“Okay! Drive safely. The rain is pretty heavy outside.”

I hummed in response then threw my phone on the passenger seat. But again, just as I was about to step on the gas, my phone went off.

Sana must’ve forgotten to mention something, I thought. Silly person, never grew up.

This time, I took the chance to look at the name flashing on the screen. And to my surprise, it wasn’t Sana, nor was it any of the girls or my family calling for whatever reason. It was really a name I hadn’t been expecting to see calling for weeks now.

“Him”, the screen said. I knew quite a number of men and had their numbers stored in my contacts but that “Him” was especially a number I had been avoiding. Just like every other instance it would attempt on reaching me, I ignored it. I placed my phone inside my bag and drove off.

I arrived at the JYP building minutes later. I saw that the parking