[sp] prequel: pt. 1

My Boyfriend (나의 남자 친구)

contains references from the story's o6. when i get jealous chapter | a nod to o3. when he's jealouso8. when he's overprotective, and 1o. when we break up chapters

-🌸-

There's something about breakups that my friends don't get. It's that it doesn't take months, years, even magic, for the pain to disappear. It will stain. It's bound to stain. That's not something you can wash away easily.

I keep hearing, "It's already a year, man." Or the classic, "Find some chick to get your mind off of it." I want to laugh at their stupidity. They speak like they haven't come from breakups too. If moving on is as easy as saying it aloud, I wouldn't be here, am I? And if finding some chick is going to help me get my mind off of it, I'd like to think that you're someone who reads Cosmopolitan magazines for men in their spare time.

I go to the library during my vacant just because I want to. It's one of her favorite places at the university. Mostly, she'd read books at the fictional section because she loves disappearing in another world and become mesmerized by it. I love watching her when she does. There's a glow in her eyes even I can't replicate.

My fingers trace along the spines of the books. I see her favorite book and like all things, I pick it up, hoping to clutch at something that was once hers. I go to the last page and see her name on the borrower's card. There's a lump in my throat all of a sudden and I close the book to bring it back where it belongs.

I'm such an idiot. I know I shouldn't be here yet here I am.

Something catches my eye in between the gaps of the bookshelves. I try to disregard the things my friends were saying, that I only go to the library to see her again. Maybe they're right because the moment I see her, all I want to do is take her in my arms. I blink, hoping that it's not a mirage playing tricks on my mind. But she's real.

She senses my presences and looks up from her book. The vividness in her eyes dims and I take a step back. There's something about it that I retreat, until I'm out of her sight. She doesn't want to see me, I know.

In my attempt to leave her alone, I collide with someone else, causing papers to fly everywhere.

"No no no..." someone whispers from behind and almost trips me over when she shoves my leg out of the way. She crouches at the mess of papers on the ground, too stunned to react. If that isn't the worst, brown liquid stains them. Best guess that it's coffee since she's holding a paper cup, plus the smell it leaves in the air. Now her shoulder's shaking. Wait... Is she crying?

Without a moment to lose, I say, "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," she sniffs and wipes something from her cheeks. Tears? I go in front of her, partly wanting to confirm it for myself and partly curious to see a college student crying. It's not everyday you see that, unless it's after the exams and everyone's disappointed with the results.

Her wavy brown hair cascades in front of her propped knees, casting a silhouette in front of her face. Her chubby cheeks are strained with tears, some even getting on her lips. I scratch my head. She's definitely crying. Damn it. I hate crying women the most.

"I'm uh... real sorry about it."

The woman nods and hiccups. "It's okay. It's my fault for not looking in the first place." She starts picking up the papers, or what's salvageable, that is.

I crouch too. "Let me help—"

"It's okay. Don't worry about it."

I glance at the mess. "You sure?"

She nods and tries to smile among her tears. "I can handle this myself."

I look away. It's uncomfortable seeing someone cry, and what's more, on our first meeting. Damn it, she makes me look like a complete jerk.

"So sorry about this," she says, glancing up at me with discomfort coloring her cheeks. "You can go now."

If she says it's okay, then it's okay with me. I send her another look before deciding to get out of her hair. Maybe she doesn't need my help after all. After about three steps away though, I go back in front of her, crouching again, to help her fetch the dry sheets. Even though I look like a stereotypical jerk, I'm not that heartless.

She's looking at me, I can sense that, so without glancing at her, I say, "I'm not leaving until we fix this together."

-🌸-

"So you a journalism student?" the man in front of me asks, his forehead knotting as he skims over a paper he's holding. My cheeks heat up, too embarrassed that he's reading my writing. For a split second, I wonder if what I wrote in there is too cheesy.

We're sitting at an available table in the library, sorting out my papers by page numbers. It's the first thing we did so that I'll know what pages I have to reprint.

"It's uh... it's for a journal article report," I reply. He directs his gaze at me, prodding me to continue. "I'm an ECE student."

"ECE?"

"Early Childhood Education. I'm studying to teach little kids in kindergarten."

He whistles. "That's... tough."

"What's yours?" I ask back in politeness.

He gives me a fleeting look, like an assessment or something. It's like what he's about to tell is so important he's weighing his options if I'm worth it. I grow conscious under his gaze. Is there something wrong with my face? Wait. It's because I cried, right? He must think I'm childish. I should seriously stop crying in public. It's so embarrassing!

"Business Ad," he says after a while.

"Oh..." I mutter in surprise. Business Administration is one of the expensive courses in our university and children of business owners commonly take it, at least, according to my friends. They say that when you want to befriend someone rich in college, go with BSBA students since it's b with chaebols.

If he is, he's pretty good in disguising it from the public eye. He has dark, unruly hair, like he got up from his bed, ditched the brush, and decided that his fingers are enough to tame the wild hair. It isn't. His jawline is spotted with faint stubble and I can tell that he doesn't mind shaving it for a while. The white v-neck and denim jeans he's wearing are wrinkled. He doesn't come across as someone who goes to the university prepared. Based on my impression, he's someone who sits at the back and naps a whole lecture away.

What I do notice best about him is his sharp, monolid eyes. Every time he blinks, his long eyelashes make them hooded, like they're capable of captivating one's attention. Admittedly, they do. His thick, unruly eyebrows complement them well, defining his manly features so much that he looks like a bad guy from a drama who the girl wants to be with, no matter how bad he treats her. Tall nose, thick lips, sharp jawline, bright skin, and not to mention his cool, suave appeal... he's definitely a head-turner.

I fidget in my seat and refocus back on looking at the papers in order, hoping that he doesn't catch me checking him out. With him focused on arranging the page numbers, I don't think he can.

After our short exchange, we fell into silence since there isn't much to talk about. It doesn't help that the library is so silent that we can hear people flip pages from books they're reading. This is so awkward...

"Uhm... my name's Park Chaeyoung. I'm a freshman."

His face scrunches up, too busy at the papers to look at me. "Goo Junhoe. Also Freshman."

"Maybe we have common classes?" I continue the conversation, in hopes of eliminating the awkward silence.

He chuckles and it's the first positive reaction I get from him. I stall for a few seconds, fingers dangling between the powdery white papers when the thought that his chuckle's attractive occurs to me. "Maybe... when I stop skipping classes, that is."

My heart drops. Turn off. "You skip classes? Why?"

He looks at me as if I'm saying something foreign. "Why not? It's the main point of college anyways. After forcing us into those stupid cram schools, I think we deserve to take a break too."

I frown at his words. "Still..."

His mindset is just... a lot of kids can't have a decent education yet he chooses to waste it away. Education should be a right, yet with high costs, it comes more as a privilege. I want to inspire kids to go to school, not for them to have a mindset like this. It's unhelpful but his words trigger the reason I chose Education in the first place.

I purse my lips, hoping that I will not say something invasive, say, encourage him to go to his classes. After all, given the circumstances, we just met. Before I can go on a tirade of citing reasons why he has to attend his classes, his shoulders grow rigid, gaze looking past me.

My forehead knots. Something's bothering him. "What's wrong?"

I would look behind to see what he's looking but he distracts me by standing up in a hurry. "I gotta go."

"What—"

"Sorry," he cuts off and I can tell he doesn't mean it. In a flurry, he's walking out of the library, making me confused more than ever.

That guy... what's wrong with him?

-🌸-

Everyday occurrence is me waking up in the morning, feeling empty for no damn reason, then going to bed in the night wondering, wishing (mostly wishing) of her. I long for the days when I'm with her and sometimes, my thoughts will continue and morph into my dreams, giving me hope that everything's real because that's what dreams do right? It's supposed to make you feel something, only to wake up the next morning realizing that it's just that, a dream.

I know I'm cruel with myself but I guess when you're in a middle of nowhere and you're trying hard to make sense of everything, you fall back to something that once made sense.

Someone's tapping me on the shoulder. My musings stop. I turn around and see that it's the girl yesterday. I try to remember her name but no matter what I do, I can't. It's a problem. I can remember people by their faces but not names. People always get offended by it. It's not like I care anyways. I hope she doesn't call me by my own. Then, I'll have to return the favor. The thought makes me wince. Here's to more embarrassing moments, I guess.

"Hi," she timidly greets.

I nod in greeting and turn around since I thought she did that for pleasantries' sake. It isn't.

"Jinwoo sunbaenim's your friend?" she whispers so silently I thought it's the wind speaking to me.

Facing her again, I can't help myself from arching a brow. I always remind myself not to do that because she says it intimidates people... I hold that thought as soon as the sharp pain in my chest kicks in. I'm thinking about her again. I shake my head, hoping the act can make me forget about her, maybe even forever.

The girl in front of me fidgets. I'm used to it. Since I know her intentions the moment she mentions Jinwoo hyung in the conversation, I know where it will lead. I'm used to that too.

"No," I reply, before she can say it. "I'm not going to introduce you to him, nor am I going to give you his number." I see her offended at my words but I don't care.

I feel her following behind, or rather, moving along the cafeteria line. "Wait. I — I'm not, hey... I'm just asking..."

"Well, if you're just asking, then why are you asking?"

Her face twists into confusion and I almost roll my eyes. I have done enough for me to fall under her list of people who she needs to keep a distance. Jinhwan says I shouldn't be so rude to people. Can't help it.

There's an innocent twinkle in her eyes. Now that I think about it, she does remind me of children. Maybe that's why she's taking up Education. I wonder if she believes Santa still exists?

When I think that she will not surprise me anymore, she continues to do so. "Don't tell anyone about it, but I uh... I have a crush on Jinwoo sunbaenim."

The line's moving so she doesn't see me rolling my eyes. Jinwoo hyung is an ulzzang, someone good-looking, and also the model in the university posters. Those things, plus he's a gentleman to everyone who approach him. When we walk together, I see people throwing glances at us, but mostly at Jinwoo for being so eye-catching it's so annoying.

"Good for you," I say. I don't even know what to say. I'm more surprised that she admits that to a person she barely knows. If she does this to every stranger she meets, she must get in trouble often.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you disappear yesterday?"

I stay silent. While I was helping Crybaby here arrange the papers, I saw her. I wanted to flee. It's not like it's her place that I get the urge to leave when we meet. I just, it's... maybe I'm still not comfortable with her seeing me with another woman. It feels like cheating.

There's a bitter smile in my lips. Why does it feel like I'm cheating when we're not together anymore in the first place?

"It's nothing," I reply after realizing she's waiting for an answer.

"Oh..." I get the feeling that she senses I don't wanna talk about it. I don't know how I can survive a second more with her prying about my decisions. Also, this conversation has dragged on longer. When will she stop talking to me?

The answer comes when it's my turn on the line. I grab a tray and start picking my own lunch: fish fillet, cabbage kimchi, boiled egg, spinach, and rice. I also scoop some bean paste soup on a separate bowl and place it on the tray's empty slot. I almost forgot about the girl behind me, not when she speaks again.

"I hope you go to class today, Goo Junhoe-ssi."

I smile, even though she can't see it since I'm already walking away, thankful that I don't have to remember her name to return the gesture.

-🌸-

Here's the deal: thesis papers are the worst. I say, the worst. My mind's bleeding too much that I'm having a blood clot. Okay, that's an exaggeration and most of all, I haven't experienced it yet, but it feels like I'm going through one.

After finishing chapter two at my groupmate's house, we decided that we'll make the revisions tomorrow since it's already late in the evening. Yugyeom, one of my groupmates, offered to take me home but I insisted he doesn't need to. He gave up the notion when I told him I'll take a taxi to assure him.

The neighborhood's around Hongdae so it's bound to be bustling with young people. It's comforting to know that I don't have to walk through dark alleys. The sweet steam of food stalls is so good I want to hurry over one. I miss eating fish cakes, even though I ate it in front of the university yesterday. But I can't, not when I have an angry mom murdering my phone with texts asking me for updates of my whereabouts.

Waiting for a taxi to pass, my sight lingers to the club behind me. I haven't been on a club before. When I started as a freshman, a lot of the upperclassmen invited me to one. I realize that the college scene is much different than in high school. Night-outs are the norm. The drinking lifestyle is too much that I see my peers with bloodshot eyes (deflected by the ever-reliable sunglasses) and bed hair the next morning, about the sun being too bright and unfair for them. They usually end up sleeping on their desks. Most of the time, professors don't care since with the multitude of students in one room, it's hard to spot them among the crowd.

A sleek black club with white neon lights spelling out, 'nb2', catches my attention. People are lining up outside, glancing at a man who's sitting beside one entrance door, passed out drunk. Wait... is that Goo Junhoe?

I leave my spot on the sidewalk to go closer. That is Junhoe. What is he doing?

Even though his eyes are closed, he doesn't look like sleeping. He's barely conscious though. I look around, trying to see if he's with someone else. Based on the fact that he's sitting out of the club, it's impossible, I realize.

Crouching, I ask, "Goo Junhoe-ssi?"

"Urghh..." he groans.

"Are you with someone else?"

He continues speaking unintelligible words under his alcohol-soaked breath. My hand instinctively reach up to pinch my nose but realize it's rude so I rub it instead. I can smell the alcohol from his sweater under the denim jacket too. It's like he spilled alcohol on his clothes.

"Do you know him?" someone asks in a rather deep voice. I raise my head and almost back away when I see a buff-looking man, glaring at Junhoe like he had done something crazy, and maybe with his drunken state, I think he did. He looks like someone from the mafia, minus the fancy suits and big guns. His biceps protruding from his black shirt is enough to terrify me. Without knowing the reason of his appearance, I gulp, fearing what's gonna happen next.

I glance at Junhoe and nod.

"Can you pay for him?"

"I – I'm sorry?"

"I said, can you pay for him?" he repeats impatiently.

This is unexpected... Okay, what did Junhoe do? I hope he didn't break some items in the club, real expensive stuff, because if he does, I might start thinking that saying I know him is best unsaid. I don't have enough money for liabilities now and even if I did, how am I supposed to trust him he'll pay me back?

Fine, I'll help him. Since I'm already caught in it anyway... Besides, how much would a few drinks cost? It'd be cheap... right?

Standing up, I timidly ask, "How much does he owe?"

"50,000 won. He didn't pay for this drinks."

What?! How can drinks be that expensive? Did he drink gold or something?

I hid my surprise through a cough. "Okay, please give us a minute..." Crouching again, I ask the drunken man, "Do you have that kind of amount?"

Junhoe continues speaking in mumbles I cannot understand. This is bad... Why go drink if you can't handle your liquor well?

Searching for his wallet seems like a good idea... Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? I'm sure he'll understand.

I search for his pockets but I only found his phone. He's wearing a denim jacket though... I bite my lower lip. I glance at the buff man towering over us, waiting for the payment and based on his folded arms, he's looking more pissed every second. It's not helping me calm down at all.

Making up my mind, I pat his chest pockets. I feel my cheeks grow hot at the notion. His chest is well-built, not sturdy enough like buff man over there sending me daggers, but good enough to make me deduce he's probably hitting the gym. Do all men feel like this? I don't know. I haven't d a man's chest before... which by the way, isn't groping. I'm searching. That's two different things.

Out of nowhere, he grabs my wrist. With our closeness, the smell of alcohol is stronger, now elevated with his breath fanning my cheeks. I can't understand what he's trying to say, but I caught a name.

"Hanna..."

There's a bulge in his right pocket and the sudden discovery got me excited that I shake off his hold to check it out. I cheer when it turns out it's his wallet. It's an expensive-looking leather, making me hope that he does have money to pay this man. When I open it, I see a picture of a beautiful girl on the transparent slot... is this his girlfriend? I shake my head. I'm not here to pry on his personal life. I shuffle through where the bills are supposed to be, only for me to find out he only has one green bill. What? He has a leather wallet yet he only has 10,000 won? I'm screwed.

I only have 30,000 won, plus my bus card which is pretty sweet if you ask me, since it has 10,000 won or so in it. I hope the man gets us some sort of compromise?

"No," the man replies, his gaze stern when he sees me stacking the money plus the bus card.

"Please? It's a sweet deal?" I ask in my most cute voice, plus some puppy eyes on the side. I know my dad can't resist me when I do this.

"I've been around pretty girls like you to be immune with your charms, if that's what you're trying to do."

Girls lining up at the entrance giggle at the man's words. I drop the act. No need to say how my charm game is weak. Hmph.

It takes me back to square one which is to search for Junhoe's pockets, again. I hope that a green bill appears magically so that I can go home and forget this ever happened.

"Come on, Junhoe. Help me here please..." I mutter.

No reply comes from him. But, his eyes are watering which is an improvement. Wait, what? I stop my search and stare at him. He's crying. Oh my gosh. I'm not used to people crying in front of me. Mostly it's me they have to calm down. What do I do? What do I do???

He reaches out to me, grabs my shoulders, and wraps an arm around me, his head leaning on my shoulder. OH. MY. GOSH. Creep alert!

"Hanna..."

"I'm not Hanna. I'm Park Chaeyoung. Park. Chae. Young," I reply, somewhat miffed he's mistaking me for another person.

Still, that doesn't seem to get into his head.

"Hanna... I'm so sorry... take me back..."

He sobs on my shoulder and continues his mumbling tirades. My heart softens and I don't attempt to correct him further. It doesn't take me much to figure out that whatever it is he has with this Hanna, he's still hurting. Is it the girl I saw in his wallet?

"Look, are you gonna flirt or are you gonna pay?" the buff man interjects.

"Mister, all we have is 40,000 won in total, plus 10,000 won for the bus card. Can you please accept—"

I'm cut off by Junhoe himself, but it isn't in the form of words. Of all the things that has to go down tonight, it's one of these; brown liquid with little chunks of whatever spilling from his mouth to the back of my white blouse. Ew. Urgh. I think I'm also gonna throw up—

I hear him gag once again and I cover my mouth since I'm highly sensitive with it. I don't like hearing vomit sounds because I'm likely to do the same too—

Junhoe pukes again on my shirt. For a brief second, I hear people's collective groans around us, not when it becomes muffled by the sound of me also vomiting. I stare wide-eyed at Junhoe then to the stunned buff man, then back to Junhoe. Junhoe's drunk to his limits so he's not aware of what's happening. ...Is that the crowd growing silent?

Oh goodness. I wish the ground can swallow us now.

-🌸-

I groan, trying to pry open my eyes when the damn sunlight is making me hard to do so. Wait, sunlight? I raise my hand up to shield myself from the sun. Where the hell am I? I smell like vomit and feel like . My head hurts too.

Someone's glaring at me. Sitting straight up from the unfamiliar couch, I see an old, chubby man in a business attire with dyed black hair. He's frowning so much wrinkle lines are running under his small, button-like eyes. He has a baby face so I can't guess his real age. He's sitting across the couch I slept in, legs crossed over the other, arms folded. I don't know him but I show my respect by bowing. When I steal a glance, he still doesn't look impressed.

I try to remember what happened last night but this ty headache is pissing me off. Damn it...

My throat's parched. Water... I need water... but I'm too afraid to ask for it. He looks ready to whip out a knife and hurl it at me.

"Good morning..." I bow again. Right away, I cover my mouth. Damn, my breath smells like .

"Are you my daughter's boyfriend?"

I blink rapidly at that. "W – What?"

"You heard me the first time."

Who is he talking about? Did something happen at the club? . Did I go home with a woman?! ... I did, right?

That doesn't help cure the headache much. Seriously, I swear I'll stop drinking. Stupid, drunk me only gives sober me a lot of problems to deal with the next morning.

"Dad!" someone exclaims behind me. I turn around and see Crybaby. Huh? "He's not my boyfriend. Sheesh..."

"How am I supposed to not think that when you brought a man home? And young lady, let me remind you, on a late evening!"

I shift my eyes down. This is awkward... Hey, I'm wearing different clothes. What happened with mine?

Crybaby goes to the adjacent kitchen and brings a pitcher of water from the refrigerator. Of all the places I can be right now, it's in her house. We're practically strangers and our last meeting isn't pleasant either.

"Dad, isn't it about time you go to work?" she asks as she places the pitcher on the dining table.

Her dad scoffs, removing his dagger-like stares away from me to give his daughter a look. "Are you saying that to make me leave?"

"No. But if you don't leave anytime soon, rush hour's gonna get you."

"Oh crap..." Crybaby's dad mutters and stands up. "I have to go."

"Take care!"

Before he leaves, he gives me a firm glare. I purse my lips to prevent myself from laughing aloud. It's uncalled for, I know, but the dad looks more cute than intimidating when he does it. "No funny business, young man."

He wears his shoes and as he closes the door, he's still looking at me, glare getting more intense, until I can't see his face anymore. His disappearance makes me feel more relieved. At least that's one less problem.

"Junhoe-sshi," Crybaby calls my attention. "Come have breakfast."

I look at the doorway and nod a little. "Yeah."

It's a struggle to stand upright... Even though I don't know how I ended up here, I'll never say no to a meal. I sit at one of the four chairs on the dining table. Kimchi stew, pork soup... Damn, the smell is enough to make my mouth water. The fog in my head clears up a bit. I wish it has the power to make my headache disappear too.

"What happened last night?" I ask while she sits across from me.

She's smiling, which is quite suspicious. I don't want to say it out loud but it's scaring me. "Don't you remember?"

I wouldn't be asking if I knew, right? But I held myself back. I'm in her mercy now.

"Eat some haejangguk. It's my mom's hangover soup for my dad," she suggests and brings the pot to me. I mutter a silent thanks. "She's at the market, by the way, in case you're asking."

Hearing her say that makes me utter a sigh of relief. I already reached the quota of an angry parent today.

"So..." she begins as she laces her fingers together and lean her chin on it. "Want a quick recap last night?"

I nod while having my first spoon of rice going in my mouth. My eyes widen when I do. Wow. It's just seasoned rice but it's already delicious.

"Okay. So, one, you were drunk out of the club. Two, you owed said club 50,000 won. Three, you puked on me which leads me to four, I puked on you—"

"What?" I cry out and choke in return. I cover my mouth with a fist as I cough.

She fills the cup beside my plate with water from the pitcher. Right away, I take it so the rice I swallowed goes down. After making sure I'm okay, I wave her off, telling her to continue.

"Uhm... Five, turns out bouncer is a little compassionate than I thought but then again, I think it's because he pities our vomit-soaked state. Six, you owe me money plus a bus card. Seven, my dad has every right to be angry at you because you puked on him too, after he took you out of the taxi."

Damn. Hearing the recap is much worse than I thought.

"And eight—" She's grinning. "—you kissed me."

What?

Pointing at me, then to her, I stammer, "You and me... kissed?"

I may be a miserable drunk but I don't do stuff like that. Or do I...? Drunk me is unreliable and most of the times, he does some stupid . It's a struggle to prevent myself from texting or calling someone in my drunken stupor. The shame only kicks in after I remember it the next day. Maybe we did do it...? ...

A smile waddles to her lips, almost amused at my reaction. "I'm just kidding. You hugged me, which isn't all different since I felt violated. You keep calling me Hanna. I'm Park Chaeyoung, by the way, in case you forgot."

I freeze. She mentioned a name I'd rather not hear. Disregarding the looming thoughts, I say, "Card... you should've used my card..."

"What?"

"Cryb—Chaeyoung-sshi, I pay with my card. You should've used it."

"Well, I'm sorry. You were too drunk to tell me that part. It's only me being concerned, but you should bring more bills. If you encounter a crisis, you'll be doomed for sure."

Lady, don't tell me what to do, I want to say but I'm in her house, eating their food. Plus, she took care of me when I was drunk so not being rude to her is the least I can do.

"Don't worry; I'll pay you back."

"That's good." She picks up her spoon and starts scooping soup on her own bowl. "By the way, uhm... I know it isn't my position to tell you this but, whatever you're going through right now, like time, it too, shall pass. You'll be okay. I know you will."

I sigh and lean back on the chair. "I blabbered something last night, did I?"

"It's the girl in your wallet, isn't it?" she regards the subject with careful concern, afraid I'll be set off with one mistaken word. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. But you owed the club money so I—"

I wave her off. "It's fine. Yes, she is, the girl on my wallet."

"She's beautiful."

Smiling, I say, "I know."

"The sadness you're carrying in your heart, I can understand. It's not the same as yours, I mean, it wasn't a relationship. But the heartbreak? It felt like a ten-wheeler truck crashing on me."

One side of my mouth curls. "Care to elaborate?"

She plays around with her food for a bit before speaking. "We were close friends so it felt natural for me that I was crushing on him. It escalated to the point that my heart felt like bursting if I spent another day without him knowing my feelings. So I did something about it. I confessed."

I whistle. "That's brave of you."

"Yep, then I realized it was too brave. He didn't like me that way, only saw me as a sister. When I was a wreck for a year or so, I knew it wasn't just a crush. I guess it was a blessing in disguise. Heartbreak brings a lot of pain but it brings you a lot of lessons too."

"—I learned that it isn't the end of the world. I have a lot of opportunities and things and dreams to fulfill. I learned to love myself, bracing the insecurities I suffered from that rejection. You too, you'll see. Someday, you'll look back without any pain in your heart. Someday, you'll love another person bigger than the love you felt for that girl. It will only be a matter of time. For now, all you have to do is focus on healing yourself. I promise it'll be worth it."

This woman who gives me the impression that she's too gullible for her own good, not to mention that she cries easily, surprises me once again, but a good kind of surprise. I didn't know she's insightful like this. I thought she was too sheltered from everything, never tainted by the cruelty of the world.

Chaeyoung continues to eat her meal like what she just said is nothing. "You know what, I have a feeling you'll forget what I said today."

"Am I that easy to read?" I ask, just to humor her.

She hangs her spoon in mid-air to send me a look, then shrugs. "Maybe."

"You're not offended?"

"Why would I? Most of the time, brokenhearted people become stubborn by tuning out what others say to them. They have their own pace to deal with everything. But trust me; I will make sense sooner or later."

I try to bite back a smile. She's providing me reasons why she's different again. "I hope so."

Her eyes shine with sincerity. "It will. I'm sure of it."

~🌸tbc.

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_manlydeer
#1
oh no please dont abandon this fic authornim
Mollaseo #2
Chapter 22: Authornim, can you please update this story. Hope u have great days!!! Love this story. ❤
somber
#3
Chapter 22: KILIGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG I CAN'T
somber
#4
Chapter 1: aside from being totally in love with your hanbin/leehi stories (i ship them so hard, too), i am totally, absolutely smitten with this story!!! it's been ages since i last felt "kilig" from a story. i went from "gaguoawhfaowweof" to "angcuteuwujuskogagu" lots of times!!! i hope you write more stories (and not just oneshots, but longer stories hihi) about yg ships (ehem junrose, hanhi ehem) because you write really well.

thanks for the good read!!!
jongin13
#5
Chapter 9: Posessive junhoe is the best
minyulkaistalsurene #6
Chapter 6: No cringe at all. This story is so satisfying. Though Junrose is my second otp after Jenbin, I think the level is becoming the same now lol.

I love this so much so I hope you can continue? ?❤️