"hope was a letter we could never send" / big black car

[tw: allusion to suicide]

it's not like i don't know it's shameful to have been raised around a love hotel.

but my family makes their money honestly… we just have to scrub floors, wash sheets, throw out empty beer cans and used condoms.

what was i expecting?

i wanted junior high to be fun, and it was before i transferred. i missed binnie and i hated that we moved away. i didn’t really want to move, but i knew why we had to.

in seoul the girls are prettier and skinnier and taller. they’re not children, not like bin and i had been.

i feel… small, unimportant.

i made a friend in my new class today.

she's pretty and smiles like she has a mouthful of dumplings.

she causes problems in the class a lot but no one ever seems to get mad at her, you really can't. i think if i were to get to close to her, everyone else would like me, too. that’s the kind of person jennie is… she’s like the sun, everyone moves around her even if they don’t really know it. everyone is touched by her light, but it’s so constant and unyielding you never really notice until you look up and it’s too bright for your eyes.

our homeroom teacher brought a girl who didn’t look much older than any of us to the hotel. i pretended like i didn’t notice him and tried to hide but he saw me. i tried to run off, too embarrassed to face him, but he caught me by the arm.

“why are you here?” he asked angrily, but what could i say?

i work here, i work here, this is my life… looking back he must have thought i was there with a guy.

my mother pulled him away from me as i cried. they introduced themselves awkwardly, my wrist throbbed from where he had grabbed me.

at night i heard my mother sobbing. she told me she was ashamed to greet my teacher in a place like this. a place like this… our home… a place like this.

one of the girls in class overheard him talking while she was making copies in the teacher’s office.

the gossip spread like ink on a sheet of paper. just as messy, just as permanent.

jennie stopped smiling at me.

after that my parents no longer expect me to help out at the hotel. these days i go home to the unlit house. it’s cold, but i know we can’t afford to turn on the heat.

if it’s just me in the house, it’s fine. i cook an instant ramen and try not to feel pitiful. if even i think i’m pitiful, then what can i do?

i feel like a stranger at school. everyone looks past me, like i’m not really there.

the teacher won’t look me in the eye.

(how young was that girl? how young? huh?)

it seemed jennie’s kindness was fleeting and temporary, i have started to realize she treats everyone with the same contempt masked by her brightness.

she’s not the sun, she’s the moon.

she’s not light, she’s a mirror.

she reflects back what you want to see in her.

i don’t want to go to school anymore, it’s like hell.

what sin did i commit? because i was born to a mom and dad like mine? because i don’t laugh if a joke isn’t funny? because