Three Years Ago   I slouched to school, wearing one of my dark pink cardigans. The teacher scolded me for it’s color, said it would distract students from her lesson. Little did she know I was doing her a favor.   “Take it off,” the teacher commanded.   I couldn’t care less anymore. I got up from my seat, proceeding to shimmy out of my outerwear. Look at my pathetic classmates cooing, in desperate need for drama. In this case, it referred to my misfortune and my suffering. Because human beings took delight in other people’s suffering, that was how the human brain wired.   I dropped the cardigan on my wooden desk, a small smug smile tugging my lips. Let them see my scars and wounds on display, the very same injuries they had inflicted on me. No, I wasn’t cutting myself—I won’t give them the liberty to get rid of me. These were stark evidence of their actions, their crimes, and their wrongdoings.   I basked in the glory of their humiliation. Their expression of guilt made me internally laugh. Defeat was a wonderful look for them. Had they really not considered I wore long sleeves to hide the damage they had done to my body? Did they think hitting me and throwing me across the bathroom floors would leave me spotless without any blemish? How foolish.   My attempt to suppress my laughter faded when, suddenly, I felt a jacket being wrapped around my body. It was heavier in weight, bigger in size, and warmer in comfort. There was a familiar scent to it, one filled with serenity and security. I did not have to look up, knowing there was only one person who cared enough to protect me.   “A black jacket should be fine, right?” Myungsoo asked, his eyes hard on the teacher. It nearly looked like he was challenging the teacher for my sake, for my well being.   My heart thudded.   “Y-yes,” the teacher spoke, too aghast to form a proper reaction to my situation.   Now you see, a proper adult in a position of authority should’ve alerted other teachers, or take actions and precautions to make these assaults stop. But she turned around to the blackboard, turned her back on the issue, and turned a blind eye on social injustice. A grim case of bullying stood right in front of her eyes in the form of a Jung Soojung. Yet, she chose to ignore it. Everyone did. Humanity did.   The greatest poverty in life was outright ignorance. Right then and there, I understood why this world could never attain true richness.   ***   Present   The biggest lie one could fabricate was that of pretentious care. For three years straight, Myungsoo was always the only one who showed the slightest bit of humanity to me. He did more than that, actually. He bestowed me kindness when the entire world turned against me. He offered hope in my times of secluded depression. He took my hand when others looked on in silence. For those very reasons, I ended up falling for him. Not for his good looks, but for his heart.   Now, years later, I start to question how many of his actions were authentic? How often did he genuinely care, and how often did he act out of soulful piety? How often did he try to obtain my heart with the intention of breaking it in the end?   When I walked through the school corridors the next morning, people looked at me with pitying stares again. Yesterday, it was a sign of victory, but today it defined loss. I hated those glares of sympathy, more than anything. It was a sign of weakness and utter defeat—a glorious walk of shame I did not want to be reminded of.   As I opened the door to my classroom, I immediately understood the meaning behind those pitying stares. Truthfully, had it been the other way around, I would’ve given myself the same stare of sympathy.   Myungsoo and Suzy were standing together, intimately talking and laughing like a couple would, perhaps even holding hands.   My heart didn’t break. How can it break when it was already broken to begin with? Rather, it felt like my heart was no longer in place; disconnected from reality, numbed to the suffering, heartless in nature. Yet, I felt warm tears begin to filter my eyes.   After the fiasco yesterday, Myungsoo took Suzy out of the classroom, leading her to who knows where. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. He confessed. She accepted. They were a couple. I lost.   “Soojung,” Suzy uttered when she first noticed my presence. From the corner of my eyes, I saw her poor attempt to release Myungsoo’s hand. A brief smile flickered across her porcelain skin, a beautiful contrast to the redness of her lips.   “I need to talk to you,” she said, her hands circling around my arms. Her touch was warm, not in the comforting way, but one that burned as hot as the flames of hell, I imagined.   I tried maintaining the composure on my face, biting my lips to stop it from trembling, shutting myself up before I lashed on her in front of public. Right now, I was still seen as the victim, and if I could play my role well enough, Suzy would forever be the villain in their eyes.   “You can talk later,” a familiar voice suddenly spoke. What followed next was a pair of arms grabbing me from the back, detaching me from Suzy’s fiery hold. It was Jongin.   “What?” Suzy blinked in surprise.   “I’ll be needing Soojung for now.” Jongin winked to the girl. He briefly looked at the wall clock, figuring we had a few minutes left before first period started. So he took me out to the corridors where no one could see us.   “Well, our plan backfired, obviously,” he stated first thing first, exhaling a deep sigh. He tried to say it in the most lighthearted way possible, but realized my stillness. He analyzed my condition for a moment before continuing. “It’s okay to cry, you know.”   I shot a dirty look at him, gritting my teeth and clenching my fist. “And show defeat?” I asked, my voice wavering from its conviction. “Thank you for rubbing it in my face.”   “No, this isn’t defeat,” Jongin corrected me, his handsome grin making a return. “It is only the beginning of a battle.”   I released the tension from my body, blinking at him in confusion.   “Cry all you want for now, after that, we’ll proceed to the next step.”   “There’s a next step?” I asked, unable to think coherently at the moment.   “Yes, believe it or not, now that they are a couple, it is much easier to break them,” Jongin winked at me. The idea of them being a couple felt too surreal until he verbally stated it.   I don’t know how devastated I seemed to him. Perhaps like a human being who was ready to give up on life. But Jongin decided it was appropriate to pat my head. His touch was so foreign and