Chasing Her

Chapter 7

There was never an adequate amount of time in a day, and it constantly felt like she was sprinting against it. It was a given that she could never come out as victorious in that race, and in the end, time stood triumphantly, taunting her for making poor judgments that influenced the outcome.

Frankly speaking, it gave her no chance to take a breath and evaluate everything that has happened in the past year. All it did was give her obstacles that she was getting tired of trying to solve. Every time she came across a hurdle in her way, she would resolve it just as easily as it had come simply because she was determined. Even though those hindrances came one after another to ensure that she tripped and fell on her face, she gave it her all.

What could she say? She was a daredevil, an individual that did not know when to call it quits. She was not the type of person to start something and be satisfied with half-baked results. Even during hard times, she was the one who could stay optimistic regardless of how it all turned out.

But Ah Reum felt burned out.

She sat in anguish as she recalled the incidents that had transpired that past year. Had she known that Yixing was going to play a crucial role in her life, she would have turned away the second she had come across him. Ah Reum got conned by his boyish smile and the tender look in his eyes; she got swayed by his kind smile and the sweet words he uttered to her in her times of distress, and in due course, she fell.

No. That wasn’t quite it. She didn’t fall, per se.

It was not possible to fall for someone that had already resided in a portion of her heart. In fact, she did not want to acknowledge it. Falling in love with someone was a daunting feeling, and she readily indulged in it because she understood, deep inside her heart, that Sehun would never accept her in that way. She didn’t know what it was that was restraining him, but now that she pondered about it, Sehun always gazed at her as if he was guilty of something. Even though the memories of her past had only come to her now, Ah Reum had never felt hollow prior to the realization that her reality wasn’t exactly that.

After all, she had Sehun by her side, and at the time, that was all that made a difference. She felt completely at peace in his arms as if the entire universe was vying for them to be together. Ah Reum had been convinced that only Sehun could complete her, but whenever she felt his heart beating against hers, she felt like she was mistaken. That feeling of restlessness seldom happened, and yet, when it did, Ah Reum felt a bizarre feeling of yearning for something she could not quite pin down. The thumping of her chest, the difficulty to breathe, and the hazy sound of a boy’s laughter sent shivers down her spine.

Ah Reum detested that feeling. For the most part, she felt certain of her responses. She treated life like an effortless multiple-choice test, bubbling answers while steadily making her way through those questions. Somehow, along the way, she must have skipped over a question, and thus, the remaining portion of the test had become meaningless.

She was behaving unlike herself, and it was stressing her out. Her impromptu trip was supposed to alleviate all the stress that had been accumulating on her shoulders. Seeing new sights seemed like the perfect way to do so. Now that she had come back, her shoulders felt heavier, and she couldn’t help but sigh every few minutes, knowing a big part of her uneasiness was due to her jumping to conclusions.

Oh, how envious she was of how carefree her life had been in the past.

The Ah Reum of back then would have done anything to find an answer to her problems, but now, she was not so sure if there was such a thing. Let alone, if all the discomfort was even worth it.

Ah Reum no longer desired to be the one forfeiting the little time she had for those who wouldn’t do the same. Her routine of putting every person before herself was starting to take a toll on her, but she was going to put a halt to it now. Any more of it would surely make her go crazy. She was fed up of being the one cast aside for no explanation of any kind or the one who is given hope for impending opportunities, only to have the one who gave her that hope stomp on it.

She could be the bigger person and just forget about it. After all, there was nothing official about them. The only thing that came to her mind was that he confessed, yet that was oh so long ago. In the end, it must have been a dream.

The chance that it was all just a misunderstanding tiptoed its way into her mind. She had thought about that possibility all throughout class, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her. All she needed to do was talk to him.

Yet, here she was, sitting at a corner booth at the back, drowning her griefs in ice cream. Ah Reum was afraid that she was mistaken. She was too terrified to hear the answer from him.

She went there as soon as school had ended, giving Seulgi no chance to explain to her why she had brushed her off the night before. Ah Reum had never seen her look so distraught since today, and to say the least, she felt so guilty when she walked right past her and left without saying farewell. She oh-so-badly wanted to forgive her, but Ah Reum knew that it wasn’t that easy. Maybe Seulgi had her reasons for doing what she did. Perhaps in the future, they’ll talk to each other and laugh about this incident as if it was a whole misunderstanding, but for now, she was not interested in hearing anything.

It was a given that Seulgi was not the only person Ah Reum currently enforced the “Closed Door” policy on. There were a number of people, and unfortunately, her blameless best friend was one of them.

Ah Reum wouldn’t know what to say to Sehun if she ever saw him. She couldn’t possibly act the same way after vanishing on him on his own birthday. Ruining his birthday was one thing, but she practically trashed that entire day for him. Ah Reum knew that Sehun practically did not care about that day at all. If it were like any other year, that party would’ve been added to his lengthy list of unpleasant birthdays she had ever arranged. What made this year different from the others was that his exhibit ran side by side. In other words, wrecking his birthday was something she did every year anyway, but destroying that entire day for him would surely earn her an earful from her best friend.

For some unknown reason, however, she actually looked forward to that lecture. In some weird and inexplicable way, though, she had a hunch she wouldn’t get that from him. Rather, he would try to persuade her to sit and exchange a few words with him about all the things that have gone off track in a span of a few months. Simply put, they would have another one of those “talks”. She dreaded them. Out of the two of them, she was the one who cried, the one who unintentionally used tears to her advantage.

Ah Reum remembered it all now.

Under a bed of billions of stars, she would sit beside him and pretend that she never knew. He would look at her with eyes as dazzling as the moon in the sky and feelings as apprehensible as the distinct sound of cars passing through, and yet, he would stop himself like a star that knew it would burst.

Ah Reum used to trace her fingers on his face, scrutinizing each and every feature that made him so attractive. She once thought of him every minute of every day, his face inhabiting each corner in her mind. Sehun was gorgeous to a fault.

Throughout the years of her hurling her affection towards his direction, she had practically memorized every facial feature of his. She wanted to close her eyes and see him anytime and anywhere, whether it be in Mr. Do’s class or on a random rock she threw along the riverside. Her obsession with memorizing each person’s facial features was terrifying. Ah Reum wasn’t aware of where it came from or when it suddenly happened. All she could remember was that she just did it.

Hundreds of people passed by her each day, their faces belonging to a box some would regard as a waste of space in their drawer of memoirs. To Ah Reum, they weren’t that kind of memory at all. If anything, it frightened her. She could recall every distinct detail, blemish, or scar on an individual’s face regardless of having seen them only once.

Ah Reum could never be unable to remember that chilling stare she had received from him. Even now, she remembered the way his eyes had looked at her so unresponsively like he was all set to disappear then and there. That day was etched into her memory regardless of whether she liked it or not. It danced in her mind to the tune of a boy’s glee, and it never failed to make her sob.

Even so, there was one moment that made her feel as if she was not in her body. Ah Reum wasn’t aware if it was a dream or not, but if it had been, it did not feel authentic at all. The sensation of the cold, winter wind against her skin felt as real as when she lost her footing and felt the young woman glower at her from above. It was peculiar, but that one woman’s face, Ah Reum could not recall.

Why was that?

The bell chimed, signaling the entry of a new customer while Ah Reum ducked her head for the umpteenth time that day. Her head laid securely between her arms as two students with the same exact uniform she was wearing passed by her with idle chatter.

For a moment, it seemed like they were heading her way, and naturally, for a person that was trying not to be found, Ah Reum instinctively hid from them. They looked like underclassmen to her, and she didn’t recognize either of them. Relief washed over her for a brief moment when she came upon the sudden realization that her reputation was not nonexistent. Although Ah Reum was not sure whether the news that Yerim and Sooyoung constantly spread around had reached the first years’ ears, she was not taking any chances.

She was the school’s idiot after all.

Ah Reum didn’t necessarily care about that title. In a sense, it did fit her. Her story was the classic tale of the idiot that was far too persistent to give in. She had heard the upperclassmen compare her to a dog playing tug of war with the rest of the rope tied around a tree. In other words, she was playing a game that she was visibly going to lose.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she was so afraid of. For one, Ah Reum could care less if they found her or not. She was in the furthest booth from the entrance, and even if they did discover her location per se, Ah Reum was confident that none of them could outrun her. Perhaps Sehun since his tall stature did give him the advantages that short people, like her, tend to be envious of. Even so, Sehun had never heard of this place; neither did Seulgi. The only person who could possibly have a clue as to where she could possibly be was Yixing. Sehun would assume that she’d be by the riverside, unknown to him that her secret place had changed.

Childish intentions aside, Ah Reum wasn’t avoiding anyone. After all, avoiding someone is basically like killing them. At least, that’s how it felt to her.

The number of times Sehun had insignificantly erased her presence from his mind and his sights could not even be counted on her fingers. It was that often. Most of the time she did not even know what she had done to deserve it. The blame was seemingly always pinned on her, yet she never fought in her defense. She accepted it.

Because she was afraid of losing him, she accepted the blame. She let herself take the fall for his faults. Time and time again, Ah Reum had acknowledged that these wars of theirs were two-sided. It was not one hundred percent her fault; it was not one hundred percent his fault. She liked to think that there was an imaginary line in between them, indicating that they shared the burden. However, it never occurred to her that all these fights would end with her as the loser.

Her arguments became invalid. Finding points to back up her statements seemed futile. Ah Reum realized that nothing was going to play out in her favor anyway.

Besides, how could she avoid people who did not have the time for her? In her dictionary that wasn’t avoiding; that was simply being kind.

She smiled bitterly. Kindness. That word left a bitter taste in though she did not say it aloud. She’d heard it in a variety of scenarios. Her peers often showered her with that praise. She was kind but annoying; kind yet unrelenting; kind yet too outgoing. Kind yet that’s it. There was no other word they could use to describe her other than that frustrating, over-used word. Ah Reum was sick of it. She hated being kind, being cast aside simply because they knew she would understand, because they knew she would appear in front of them with a big smile on her face as if that was all she could do.

It was a word that was strongly associated with her as well.

Jung Da Eun.

The first time she had heard about Da Eun from Sehun, she had to sit through him confessing to her about what attracted him to the gifted artist in the first place. She expected more, truthfully. Heck, even she could have come up with another reason why Da Eun was so breathtaking—so marvelous—so outstanding. The girl was a genius. She specialized in everything Sehun specialized in. They were on the same level for Pete’s sake. Of all things to be attracted to, why couldn’t it have been her impressive artwork? Her ability to keep up with him? Or even how perfectly her voice sounds when she hums?

Hearing those very words from Sehun’s mouth was a slap in the face. A quality he found so stunning, she had all along, and yet, it was never her.

Ah Reum brushed away the tears that threatened to stream down her face as she glanced at her folded arms. She was puzzled when she made out a faint scribble on her left arm, but it piqued her interest, thinking it was some sort of a secret code. She racked her brain to summon the knowledge of what it was. It took her approximately thirty secon