A fan was holding her mobile phone out. Junmyeon opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly scampered off like a stray puppy.

“Well, what do you know,” I rubbed my face with my free hand. “I'm going to get anti-fans now.”

“They know you?” he asked worriedly, glancing back and forth between me and the space where the girl had just stood.

“They were already bombarding me with questions at Auntie Lee's before you came in,” I muttered tiredly. “They thought we were a thing, or something.”

“Why would they even think that?” he snorted.

That stung. “I don't know, there was a video of me singing. Apparently, you were watching too intently for a normal performance.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, pausing for a while, probably to ponder. Then, he turned to me with a blank expression. “Are you going to eat that?”

I looked down at the bun in my hands. “Of course! I love red bean bread.”

“You hardly changed.”

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

He looked taken aback by my snide remark, but thankfully didn't comment on it. We walked on in silence, and I couldn't help but admire how his side profile looked. Although I had seen it plenty of times before, I could never get tired of it. His face was still partially covered by the mask and sunglasses, but even that couldn't conceal his beauty.

“Stop staring,” he murmured, without even looking at me. “I can feel your eyes burning holes into my face.”

I looked away embarrassedly, taking a bite of my bread. The sweet taste of red bean filled my mouth and I immediately moaned in appreciation.

“Thanks for the bread,” I said, in between bites. He responded with a non-committal grunt. “You know, I-”

“You shouldn't be talking to me, more rumours will start,” he said gruffly, before continuing in an undertone, “Plus, I'm still mad at you.”

I sighed in frustration. “When will you forgive me? I already told you that it was for your benefit.”

“I'll forgive you if you give me a reason why.”

That statement made me stop short. From his point of view, he really couldn't see why I did what I did. However, if I revealed the truth, it would surely complicate things further. If I didn't I'd live the rest of my life with him hating me. I was in a limbo.

“I don't think now is the right time to tell you,” I stalled. “We're in public.”

He raised a brow. “So if we go to somewhere secluded, then you'll tell me?”

“We'll see.”

He let out a long breath. “That's it. I'm going off now. Talk to me when you decide to tell me the truth. If not, just leave me alone.”

Junmyeon immediately left me alone at the sidewalk as he walked away hurriedly to another direction. There was a car waiting for him and he clambered inside. The windows were tinted heavily, effectively cutting off any sight of him.

All of a sudden, my phone blared, shocking me out of my skin. As the car whizzed past, I picked up my phone without seeing who was calling.

“Hello? Hyejin?”

I froze. “Ah, yes. Dad?”

“Why didn't you come visit your mother and I once you arrived? We were expecting you,” he berated. “How are you settling in?”

“I'm doing fine,” I replied evenly. “And I was... preoccupied.”

“Come on, why are you like this?”

“You very well know why,” I responded in a perfectly neutral tone. “Why do you still need to ask?”

“Are you still mad at your old man?” he chuckled. I felt my blood boil; did he think I would just let it all go? “Don't tell me, you met him.”

“So what if I did?”

“For one, you met up with the guy who potentially ruined your life-”

I ended the call. I couldn't see the need to speak to someone who thought I was a mere joke, whether he was blood-related to me or not. I craved for Junmyeon like how bees craved for nectar throughout my time in China. It was a lonely time for me despite the few friends that I had made there.

Suddenly, my phone rang again, and I picked it up after seeing that it wasn't my father on the other line.

“Hyejin-ah?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“When will you start calling me mom?” she asked, half-wistfully and half-playfully. “What did you do to upset your father?”

“I call my real mother 'mom' so I call you 'Mother'. We've been over this,” I reminded her, referring to how she was my stepmother. “And dad had what was coming for him.”

“You can't possibly hold this against him, dear.”

I blew at my hair that flew onto my face. “Yes, I can.”

“He wasn't the only one who made that decision, okay?” she murmured softly, not wanting to rile me up. “Come visit us please. It's been a long time.”

I was struck with guilt. She was right; my father wasn't the only one involved. There was still my real mother, and ultimately myself.

However, I still refused to back down. “Yeah, he wasn't the only one who made the decision. My mom made it too. And you didn't convince my dad enough.”

“Hyejin, stop fooling around. What happened is already done. You can't change the past. If things with Junmyeon are not working out the way you want them to, then you have to go settle it yourself instead of putting the blame on other people. Sometimes you just need to do it even though he might hate you for it. If not, you might regret it later.”

She sighed before ending the call. Guilt was crashing in me like waves as my stepmother's words clicked into my head. I really didn't want to visit them, but she was evidently right. I was pushing the blame onto other people when it was myself who made the final decision.

Clicking on the calendar app on my phone, I looked through the dates to see when I could visit them. Suddenly, I realised something as my eyes flittered over the screen. Today was the 1st of August. I couldn't believe that such an important day would slip my mind.

Tomorrow would be the 2nd of August, also known as her death anniversary.

-

The rest of the day was spent in a blur, ranging from just walking slowly down the streets to staring at pedestrians. I usually spent the 2nd of August like this every year. It was a depressing cycle that wouldn't go away.

It was as if my body got stuck on auto-pilot and everything I did was due to muscle memory. Nothing really processed in my head, and every action felt robotic. So, I would generally spend every year cooped up by myself drinking away the pain, only to wake up with a massive hangover the next day.

No matter how many times I tried to withold myself from drinking, I would sti