Jessica threw her keys to the bowl, tempted to also drop everything attached and coiled around her body. She’s tired as hell but Enzo is a clean freak.

 

She gathered a familiar stifled music blaring from the other side of the house as Jessica hung her coat and her scarf and leaving her purse on a counter. Jessica stalled from the foyer and into the living room, already assuming that Enzo has the Star Wars Blu-Ray disk on the player. When she caught him red-handed with that thrilled grin on his face having no care about the world, sprawled on the couch in his tank top and shorts, the ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy, far far away’ opening crawl had ended its roll.

 

“Will Obi Wan Kenobi survive Darth Vader’s sword this time?” Jessica took off her heels and left them lying on the floor. Enzo will be gaping on Princess Leia and there are chips on the laminated coffee table, a little object haphazardly lying on the living room shouldn’t cause a blip.

 

Enzo made room for Jessica on the couch by righting himself and compressing his space-consuming tall figure further to one side. Enzo is too generous sometimes, passively giving beyond what’s necessary. Jessica has nowhere needed to fill the remainder of the furniture. She just sat and relaxed her physically spent body on the soft cushion.

 

“Lightsaber is the correct term.” Enzo amended. “And it’s The Empire Strikes Back.”

 

“Oh.” Jessica pretended to be in shock. “Maybe Luke won’t get his hand cut off then.”

 

“You’re mean.” Enzo is, as usual, very prude about Jessica’s mocking over his Star Wars fanatic disease. “Have you eaten dinner?”

 

“Sunny and I went out.” Jessica said weirdly. “I texted you.”

 

“And she told me she’s fed you well, but how come you look like someone died? Did something happen at work that you’re unloading your temper on the poor, innocent and unknowing Star Wars?”

 

Jessica refused to talk about it at first. Here she is again, an ordinary day ended and an ordinary night began, wallowing if the work at the hospital is ever gonna get tougher and tougher by the day. Or, if the world would ever ponder about playing nice with her.

 

It’s making her stomach whirl like there’s a storm inside. She really has no one to talk to right now other than Enzo, again. He might be getting sick of her springing about her little problems to desensitize as if she’s the only person dragged with it. The extent of duty calling upon Jessica remained to have an unforeseeable limitation. But if it meant she’ll improve in her practice, she’d take up as much work in her plate.

 

“It’s a pinball at the hospital again. Can you imagine twelve people whose bones were broken from accidents, battering, assault and fatigue that got sent to X-ray and all happened on the same day?”

 

“Geez. Twelve people?” And probably more number if Jessica included other cases to the average sum of her patients at the ER alone. Operating two to three bodies in a day became a light punishment for Enzo now. At least they’re inanimate and unresponsive because their bodies are high on anesthesia. Jessica dealt with live people each day, throwing anger at her because they’re in pain and later, thanking her for relieving that pain.

 

“That girl from your school may have started the chain reaction.”

 

“Isn’t a busy day your favorite day?”

 

“Not when it didn’t start off well.” Jessica tipped her head back. She could just fall asleep from the turns of dialogue between Leia and Han about their simmering attraction that Leia is in constant denial. Enzo would carry her to their room and she’d wake up with the light pouring through the windows. She’d like that.

 

“Come here.”

 

Jessica turned her head, pulled from her ruminations when Enzo summoned her to sit closer to him, adhered that she’ll just do.

 

She should start drawing lines. But it’s Enzo. The lines seemed to blur on its own.

 

The next thing Jessica did, she’s already turned his body into her make-shift mattress. Enzo’s hands clutched over her shoulders, his palms and pressing his fingers over the tight muscles.

 

“Oh god…” Jessica hushly moaned. Nearly ual but not quite.

 

“Does this turn you on?”

 

Jessica snapped her eyes open and shrugged her shoulders, swatting Enzo’s hands.

 

“What?” He sharply flapped his hands in the air. His voice went high, persevered to hold a burst of laughter. Taking a shallow batch of oxygen, Enzo composed himself. “It’s a fair question, Jessica. I never knew the actual genuine noises that pertained to what pleases you. Is this one of those? ‘coz if it is, well, I should have known. Maybe I’ve made love to you a notch better.”

 

That earned him a strike from Jessica’s elbow that hurt like a shrapnel. It’s Leia Organa and Han Solo, slightly on the flesh. They’re not exactly forging a romance since there’s no such.

 

“That seriously hurts.” Enzo hissed, rubbing the stinging spot on his rib.

 

“Good. Because it should.” Jessica coursed to snide.

 

“You’re cranky.” Enzo said the obvious.

 

“You’re construing these jokes and it worries me that you actually feel ridiculed about the divorce and the reasons behind it.”

 

“Where is this coming from?”

 

Jessica groaned, scrunching her face and burying them to her hands. “Sunny told me that maybe you’ve arranged a party this weekend so you could grieve over a heartbreak.”

 

It’s selfish for Jessica to mention that just to ease her guilt of the repercussions brought about by the divorce. Since Sunny put light on that possibility, Jessica couldn’t rule out the likelihood of it and the fact that Enzo isn’t someone who volunteers his feelings to be known without Jessica talking him out to speak of them. She had to hear it from Enzo himself invalidating Sunny’s speculation.

 

“I feel like I’m hurting your ego, Enzo, and ego is the center of most men’s life, represented by the thing hanging between your legs.”

 

“First of all, I’m not most men.” He refuted the stereotypical notion. “Second, is this your evaluation of me, that I’m all about the ?” The rhetorical question made the atmosphere thick.

 

“I admit. It’s true. Same goes for you too. I love you and this conclusion might have come too late but we’re incompatible, including ually. We did have our several good ual moments and you do make my thing go erect and make me feel hot and bothered but there’s another explanation for that which didn’t have to involve you all the time.” Enzo whispered “,” for coming out too honest and it’s too late for him to take back the subtle reminder of his ographic stash under the bed. “Anyway, I know I’m not the only problem here. You are too. I don’t see how that’s supposed to hurt my ego.”

 

There’s no such thing of clear conscience on Jessica’s part, however, she’s relieved. Usually, Enzo used a forward and affront manner of speaking that manifested his honesty. Jessica is convinced and found it appropriate to just chuckle and brush off this stupid issue that isn’t even an issue to begin with. Just plain stupid.

 

Enzo resumed his not-so-bad free massage service. It would be hard to believe that they’re a couple with an on-going divorce trial. They’ve festered back as friends and kept the harmony of friends. Jessica is one of those people who saw it as an unlikely result in a phenomena that’s known to wage tears, hatred and violence.

 

It’s Jessica who declared they should divorce. Enzo had been in touch with that thought as much as Jessica did, in mutual that their marriage has gone stale. Both had been waiting which one would go first. They wanted it to work out. They didn’t want those years to turn into a dump, until one day, Jessica flipped and dropped the bomb.

 

Jessica loved Enzo sincerely, but that sincerity isn’t enough to prolong her commitment to him with a mere foundation of going with the flow of her life plan. Since high school, Jessica had her future set. Going to Oxford to pursue medical school, returning to Seoul to proceed with residency, marrying the perfect man at the age of thirty. She had everything set in motion. She’s supposed to be happy about it. Not many people could maintain consistency sticking to a long-term plan and she should earn her gold medal for that

 

“You’re unusually quiet.”  He observed with peruse.

 

“Hmm?” Jessica felt lost suddenly, almost hearing Enzo speak in stifle

 

“Did your life flash before you or something?”

 

“No.” Jessica shook her head. The lie is bitter in when she’s literally recapping the days of her ambitious high school years and fastforward to the current point in her life, wondering where she went wrong and what she’s gonna do about it.

 

“I’ll wash up now.” Jessica took one of Enzo’s hand that clutched on her shoulder, brushing it away. Enzo candidly slid his hands back to his side. Jessica got up, leaving past the couch, and then she stopped. She breathed, convincing herself that there’s no other way around to nail the coffin but to drop another bomb and undergo another pity party for taking advantage of Enzo’s kindness. “I’m moving out next week.”

 

She didn’t wait for his reaction, if he’ll ever hold one. She let a few seconds to pass that she deemed enough for the words to register before making her way to the bedroom they still both shared. Jessica locked herself inside the bathroom and sat on the toilet.

 

She pressed her eyes, banning the blues of her tears so it could simmer down itself exactly where they are. She’s a thin ice that broke down too soon. A sob escaped her and a crossover of laugh, after days of Jessica’s determination to keep it on hold.

 

Jessica cherished what could have been the best thing that happened to her, but those years didn’t feel fulfilling nor what she could brag on with pride. Jessica knew something is missing and there’s already too much going on, she never really cultivated time to figure out a way except that Enzo deserved someone else and she had to let go of him.

 

In short, Enzo is a collateral damage to Jessica’s indefinite pursuit of happiness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoona liked to think she’s special. But she also kinda hated that.

 

She’s doing fairly well in her classes for someone who is juggling her academics and extracurricular activities that included practice, game, practice and more practice. Their soccer team has marked itself on the map and retrieved its honor again after three years in the slump - thanks to her. And she has the great company of friends to make it a whole lot better.

 

Yoona couldn’t ask for more. But she is asking for more. Seeking for more. It’s one of those little things but it meant a lot for her.

 

Nothing’s special about being special, really. It’s a double-edged sword ready to stab her.  

 

Every time Yoona went to bed, staring at the ceiling to think, tuning to the hollowness of her huge home, she’d wonder, “Is there anything else stored for me?” She’s young and daring. She wanted to know.

 

She may seem the girl who has everything to keep her at content.

 

No.

 

Yoona is just like everyone else. She’s just another girl, another face in the crowd with a silly dream to experience, feel and embrace what life can bring to her and what discoveries she can make, of what it’s like to fall in love and be in love.

 

A silly dream, is it or is it not?

 

Yoona shouldn’t fret over a matter like this while the rest of Korea would sacrifice basically everything that could account to riches over love. The world can be shallow like that, unfortunately.

 

Love, for someone like her, should be easy. She’s special, right?

 

That’s why she hated that, afraid she might have caught the infamous curse of loneliness and solitary that inflicted the young people charmed with success. The signs aren’t discreet anymore of endorsing her that she’s so so special, bound for many greatness but love.

 

It made her sad and distraught like a kid whose mother never let her play. Her heart had never skipped a beat nor did it pound rapidly against the constricts of her ribs. It’s metaphorically dead. She didn’t feel….alive, more so physical