“I’m sorry” 

I manage to choke out those two words when we turn onto the familiar setting of my street. Jimin doesn’t respond and for a few beats of silence I think that he hasn’t heard me. I start to build up my courage again to say it louder, and more clearly, but then he speaks. 

“It’s okay.” 

I press my lips together. Is he just saying this to make me feel better or—

“I deserve that.” 

My head whips towards his direction at his words. No matter how much I want to protect myself from past scars that are now engraved in my heart like permanent ink, I don’t want Jimin to blame himself for what has happened. I don’t want him to think that he’s not worth it anymore just because I decided to move on from this situation, just because I chose someone else. 

“Don’t say that.” I reply with a frown gracing my face, “Nobody deserves to experience this kind of situation.” 

“Yeah but,” He chuckles then, half-heartedly in order to lighten the situation, “I guess I was too late to realize how much I loved you.” 

I busy myself by looking out of the window, unable to find words of comfort in such situations. I can’t formulate words of kindness just to make him feel better. I want to, but there’s nothing left to say. 

Maybe if it had been two years ago, I’d jump into his arms in a heartbeat, without even a second of judgement or thought, without any doubts that he’d let me down. 

“I’m happy though.”

I rose a brow, “What?”

“I’m happy that it’s Taehyung.” 

I look away without saying anything. My heart suddenly starts rocking back and forth, jumping about in my chest like a hummingbird when Jimin continues speaking, “I wouldn’t have been so quick to give up if it wasn’t Taehyung.” 

“I don’t get it” I mutter back, my gaze still pinned on the moving houses. Jimin swerves into my street, the headlights illuminating the asphalt as I catch sight of the familiar house at the end of the road.

Jimin sighs, “If it wasn’t Taehyung, I’d bash that bastard’s face in for taking you away because I’d be sure that he wouldn’t be worth it.” Then, I felt his gaze on my face, compelling me to turn my head and meet his brown orbs. At this same particular moment, the sound of pit-pattering on the windshield makes me realize that rain is falling. Jimin speaks then, so softly that I have to furrow my brows and process his words for a few seconds before the realization dawns on me:

“But since it’s Taehyung, I’ll gladly step back down.” Jimin’s hand glides across the steering wheel as he indicates the wind-wipers to work. They start beating back and forth across the windshield, a soft, monotonous, peaceful sound that aids to calm the erratic rush of blood flowing through my brain. My thoughts are all over the place and I can’t seem to make sense of what he’s saying. What does he mean? Does he know something about Taehyung that I don’t? He sounds so sure of himself when he talks like that, I can only gulp and bite down on my lower lip, chewing onto the flesh as I process his words in an effort to understand their connotation, in vain. 

“Taehyung deserves you, more than anybody else.”

I scoff, “That is, if he even sees me that way.”

Jimin says nothing, and for that I’m glad even when I’m still trying to piece the puzzle together. I need some time alone to think, and I need it now. And plus, Taehyung is probably sulking right now because I haven’t brought my phone out with me, and I’m pretty certain to come back only to find an explosion of messages, texts and miscalls from the said individual on my phone. There’s no doubt about that.

This means I’ll have to explain myself to him. Oh, sure, I can lie. After all, we’re made up of lies, aren’t we? Human beings are funny, we lie for the stupidest things only to make others feel better. And this one stupid lie turns into a habit, and this habit turns into a bad way of perception, a bad way of living life. 

Because one can’t simply live by lying. I wonder why humans are so good at making up false interpretations and stringing the wrong sentences together for what they think is better. 

We draw up to my house and the car rolls to a stop. The rain has picked up its speed, now beating violently, splattering across the windshield like its painter is aggressively trying to produce a work of art. Silence engulfs the vehicle and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I don’t know what to say, how to act. There’s definitely a distance between us that I don’t want to close, particularly due to the fact that I don’t want to hurt Jimin, nor myself for that matter. Although I’ve decided to reject his love and move on, I still care for him as a friend. I want him to be happy, and I know how it can hurt to be at the other end of the stick, where you give someone everything and they give you nothing in return. 

It’s almost like a sick twisted little game. Jimin came out to be the winner in the first match, but now the roles are reversed. 

I glance at his face from the corner of my eye, trying to assess the situation and his present feelings, but other than the lingering sadness at the border of his eyes, he seems pretty calm. 

He definitely has more self-control than I do, than I ever did back then. 

But then again, everybody hurts. Maybe he’s just better at hiding it. 

“Happy birthday.”

Huh?

Jimin’s lips stretch into a soft, tender smile. This time, it reaches his eyes, making them twinkle slightly in the dim streetlamp on the side of the street, “happy birthday Kim. Now I think it’s time for you to go.” 

“O-Oh. Okay, uhm—“ I break off, not really sure how to take this all in. Should I hug him? Say goodnight? I fumble awkwardly with my hands before catching sight of his expression and murmuring a soft, “thank you.” 

“Go now.”

I open the door and look back one last time at the boy I’ve fallen in love with once upon a time, when the roses were still blooming and when my youth was limitless, when I was still young and naive about the world and when the concept of love was nothing but just a one-way mirror without consequences and pain.

I’ll forever be grateful for him, no matter how much he hurt me. He’s helped me so much in every aspect of the word; he made me grow out of my small bubble, and as I said before, there’s nothing like a first love. They’ll leave an ink stain on your heart for as long as you live, but all this time when I thought I had already wiped it away successfully, I was barely able to scrub it out. But accepting what you've been through and wearing proudly on your chest as a sign of victory is what I’ve been avoiding. 

I’ve come to the realization that it’s better sometimes to accept things as they are, because I believe they make you better, wiser, knowledgeable. 

In short, all things that make you a beautiful human being. 

“Goodbye, Jimin,” I murmur in the darkness. 

“Goodbye, Kimberly” The echo of pain is etched at the back of his throat. I try to ignore it as I close the door. The vehicle then drives away, leaving me standing in the rain with nothing but a sweater and pants to keep me safe from the cold. But I turn my palms up to the sky and close my eyes. I feel the rain with the pores of my skin and the scabs of my flesh. I feel clean, I feel a rejuvenation, as though a whole weight has been lifted off my chest. As the droplets hit my body in a succession of rhythmic beats, I think that maybe, just maybe, I’ve gotten the closure I’ve been looking for. That is what I’ve been seeking all along, and now that I do, I finally feel free. 

Freedom. This word has been unfamiliar to me for a very long time. 

I can almost feel wings spreading over my back. 

A smile unconsciously makes its way over my face, my lips dancing and eyes crinkling up into crescents. It’s a beautiful night, and it’s my birthday. I feel reborn, alive with a gush of feelings and emotions, an array of tidal human existence and the presence of my own self getting back up again after having been worn down by numerous blows and hits. 

And suddenly, the rain is gone. 

Frowning, I look up only to face a blank, curved sheet of dark gray. 

I blink, then turn around. I almost yell out in shock when I come face to face with no other than Kim Taehyung in the flesh and blood. 

“What the hell, Taehyung! What are you doing here?!” I yell out of instinct, throwing him a glare to show that I am not amused by his creepiness. 

He stays silent, watching me with dark, simmering eyes.

My frown deepens, “What’s wrong?”

His eyes search my face for a moment longer. Then, he murmurs softly, “So you were with him all along.”

What? I don’t get it. Is he talking about Jimin? Or maybe he’s just mad that I haven’t been answering my phone. My hand reaches up to scratch the back of my head, wet strands sticking to my face as I do so, “Sorry, I forgot to bring my phone with me. Jimin just wanted to talk.” I nod at him then before asking, “Why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He still sounds a bit mad, and the thought of fighting with someone else drains me of emotional energy. I’m not up for another discussion, if that’s what he’s looking for in the first place. With all the mess I’ve just gotten out of, I need space and time to think, specially about him, specially since the issue concerns the said individual in the first place. 

I raise a brow, “What’s obvious?”

When he speaks next, his voice is trembling but not because of the cold. It holds an edge, as though he’s trying to repress his anger, “Why in the world would I be standing alone in the rain in the middle of the ing night? What’s so special about today, must I ask?” Sarcasm drips from his tone and I wince at the ferocity of his words. 

Taehyung rarely swears. But when he does, you know that there is big trouble ahead. 

Except I don’t know what exactly I did this time. 

“Goddamnit Kimberly” He seethes with anger while his eyes flash with a hint of barely restrained anger, “I wanted to surprise you, that’s why I asked before coming over. But turns out little miss ing-in-love-with-Jimin decided that she had last minute plans instead.”

I don’t understand why he’s taking this all out on me when he hadn’t even explained me about his motives, “Oh, So you’re angry at me because I went out to see Jimin?” I chortle before my eyes narrowed, “How was I even supposed to know that you were coming around?” 

I swear I can feel his blood boil from where I’m standing. He looks away, “Whatever” He spits of venomously, eyes dangerously narrowed, “I’m done.”

“What do you mean—“ he interrupts me by ing the umbrella in my hand, swivelling around and making his way down the street, leaving me more than baffled, “Hey! Don’t you dare walk away without explanation, Kim Taehyung!”

He can hear me, but he’s ignoring me, I can tell. He’s holding something in his hand, some kind of bag, and I run up to him with the umbrella in my grip, quickly poising it over his head before asking, “Hey, look at me.”

He keeps walking as though he hasn’t heard a single word I’ve said. Frustrated and more than a little irritated by his childish behaviour, I step in his path and look at him in the eye, determined to get him to spill his thoughts. He’s angry and pissed and annoyed at something I’ve done, but if he doesn’t tell me then I’ll never know, and Taehyung’s one to hold grudges, specially when he knows he’s right. 

I’m wrong, I know that much. But I want a justification. Not just a statement. 

“Stop—“ I press against his chest repeatedly, “Can you please just stop?!” He halts abruptly so that I stumble. 

Quickly regaining my balance, I shoot him a scowl and cross my arms over my chest. 

“Okay,” I say, “I’ve ignored you. I’m sorry, I should’ve brought my phone. I’m sorry I went out to see Jimin. I’m sorry your surprise got ruined because of me.” I sigh. I can’t believe I’ve just let my pride down for this particular individual. I’m touched that he’d even think of surprising me, but being angry because I unintentionally ruined his plan is