Everything that was once beautiful, now appear discolored and ugly.

 

The skyline looks beautiful from up top, even if it’s just the top of the school building. The quietness is mixed with distant chattering of students and cars passing by. From afar, the clouds appear dark and angry as if a storm is coming. It’s evident its raining there, and soon it’ll be raining where she’s standing.

 

 

Her plaid skirt and tie sway side to side. Her bangs part her face like a curtain, and her forehead appears.

 

The air blows on her round cheeks and she closes her light brown round eyes to enjoy the breeze. It’s comforting in a sense.

 

This specific spot is Park Jihyo’s favorite, where no one can find her. Where she can isolate herself from the world. Sometimes she asks the teacher to use the bathroom, just to catch a breath from the rooftops.

 

Park Jihyo enjoys the silence.

So much that it may even terrify her.

 

“What are the chances she could be struck by lightning? Or blown away by a sudden tornado…Wouldn’t that just solve everything??”

 

“Why don’t you just jump? It’ll make everything easier…”

 

When she draws the courage to do so, the slightest of sound or a honk summons her back to reality.

 

And she evaluates her decision, even questioning herself, because obviously ending herself would be easier than what she’s currently feeling.

 

There’s a million ways to die, but there’s also a million reasons to live.

 

As much as she wants to scream from the top of her lungs, she can’t.

Jihyo slowly inhales and exhales. Humming to herself, she begins to sing quietly. Her unique voice is beautiful. More beautiful than the voice that speaks within, the voice that arises from her subconscious, the one that taunts, and brings her troubles.

 

Jihyo’s voice is unique, even if she doesn’t believe it, or if she constantly denies it when someone compliments her. It always has been.

 

Jihyo continues to sing as tears stream down her cheeks.

Why does it hurt even though they’re just words? I shouldn’t even care about hurtful comments or what others think..

 

Feeling unconfident in everything she does, being criticized, and stressed, Jihyo always feels she isn’t good enough, especially when it comes to singing.

 

Standing behind the ledge, grabbing onto the rail, Jihyo looks down.

“I’m not good enough,” she whispers.

She closes her eyes, imagining what it’s like to fly.

Leaning forward she jolts back automatically and quickly wipes the tears from her face.

 

She exits the small door and runs for the stairs, and speed walks down the steps.

The bell rings and she walks faster down the steps.

 

If she misses a step and suddenly rolls down the stairs, then that could be the death of her too...

 

“That would be quick and easy too,” her inner-voice says, totally agreeing.

 

Or she could sprain her ankle, that’s a possibility too..And she could be seriously injured and no one would know she’s there and die that way too..

Or hit her head and have a brain bleed and die…

 

She dismisses the suicidal thoughts and sniffles. She gently rubs her eyelids to rid the remaining tears.

 

Unfocused and with eyes staring down she shakes her head to fix her bangs.

 

 

Jihyo turns the corner and clashes with a student holding a stack of textbooks. Landing on her forearm and knees, the quick sudden pain stings. Rubbing her forearm, she quickly gets to her feet. Looking down to examine her injured knees, a patch of blood stains her skin, and she endures the pain.

 

The stack of textbooks scatter to the floor, and Jihyo immediately apologizes, barely looking at the girl, she bows her head multiple times before rushing to class.

 

“Wait!” the tall girl says aloud, realizing Jihyo’s forearm’s are scraped and knees are bleeding.

 “Your knee! It’s bleeding…are you okay??” her voice trails off as Jihyo rushes forth, ignoring the girl.

 

Looking at the scattered books on the floor, and back up, she loses sight of Jihyo amongst the other walking students.

 

Chou Tzuyu checks herself to see if she has been injured too. Then, continues to pick up the pile of books on the floor. She double checks her books to ensure they’re okay too.

 

“What the hell happened to you?” Chaeyoung asks while helping Tzuyu pick up her books.

“Someone ran into me, well we both fell, then yeah…my textbooks,” she says calmly.

 

 

“Are you hurt?” Chaeyoung caringly asks.

Tzuyu shakes her head, “I’m okay.”

 

 

Feeling drained and tired, it must’ve been the fall from earlier.

 

The bell rings and Jihyo is late.

Jihyo carries her backpack on her shoulder, slightly limping to her next class.

Thinking if she should go to the nurse’s office, to receive a note to excuse her tardiness.

 

Her knee is hurting and walking to the nurse’s office is too far. Instead, Jihyo walks to class, accepting her tardiness.

 

She limps to class and her classmates stare at her.

 

“LATE! Park Jihyo, detention,” Mrs. Kim calls.

 

Unable to do or say anything, Jihyo quietly takes her seat in the back near the window.

 

The teacher continues where she left off, “there’s going to be a musical for the department, it’s to fundraise for our department, the assignment you are given is a list of selected songs we will be performing, so please practice, review, and sing your soul out! I will also be assigning parts next week.”

 

The teacher hands a stack of music sheets with lyrics to the students in the front to pass back.

 

Jihyo her finger to rub away the dried blood. She presses the blotch of blood on her knee to feel the pain. And it stings once more.

 

Yoo Jeongyeon’s arm swings mid-air to pass the sheets of paper, but Jihyo is too distracted by her injured knees.

 

She swings her hand side to side, waiting for the papers to be fetched.

 

Nayeon smacks her lips and taps Jihyo’s shoulder as she too waits for the musical assignment, and Jihyo is startled. Sorry, Jihyo says, and quickly takes the stapled music sheet, then passes it to Nayeon.

 

She stares at the music sheet, flipping through the pages to examine the assignment.

 

No matter how much she practices or tries, what’s the point?

And they say practice makes perfect…pft.

If it’s not her nerves that get the best of her, then it’s her lack of confidence…

Though Jihyo’s voice is unique she’s entered a lot of singing competitions and auditions, her self-esteem is so low.

 

Mrs. Park is overly supportive, sometimes pushing Jihyo to the point of no return. If her mom had enrolled her in a normal school then she wouldn’t be competing with all these other performing arts students. She wouldn’t even be there amongst other students who are way more talented than her.

 

But she can’t blame her mom, she just wants the best for her daughter and Jihyo understands that.  She used to love singing so much.

 

 

But the pressure to fit in society, and her mom pushing her to sing, and the stress just adds on.

This singing angel isn’t perfect.

Park Jihyo would never think that of herself as perfect anyways. Far from it, as she constantly reminds herself, there’s room for improvement, always.

 

Through past experiences and criticism, it’s been engraved in her mind, its exhausting.

 

Jihyo loudly sighs, “why do I even bother??” and taps the desk repeatedly.

 

Some of her classmates turn to look at her and continue their work.

Jihyo slumps in her seat and stares outside. Unable to see anything but the windows from the other building, little droplets of rain stain the windowpane, and she sings in her head.

 

Thunder roars from above and the droplets of rain becomes heavier and the sky turns darker than ash.

 

Her ridiculous thoughts emerge again.

What are the odds she could be struck by lightning? Or a huge gust of wind blowing her out the window suddenly.

 

The sound of hard rain breaks Jihyo’s concentration and she looks over the assignment once again. Contemplating if she should try her best or not.

 

“Park Jihyo!,” the teacher calls aloud, randomly calling the girl.

“Yes?,” she nods.

“Can you please sing us a sample of verse 3 line 2, on page 1,” the teacher cold calls.

Several students look at her and make eye contact.

 

Jihyo immediately sits upright as a sudden wave of heat surges through her body and her face turns red. Feeling nervous, she clears and begins to sing the line but her voice shakes, and pauses before continuing.

 

“Okay,” the teacher hand gestures indicating her to stop.

Jihyo looks down, feeling embarrassed at her performance. This isn’t the first time a student has suddenly been called to sing a verse or line. This is the teacher’s way of getting students to feel ‘comfortable’ around each other. But it only makes Jihyo feel awkward. More awkward than before, since the teacher has called on her several times already. The teacher critiques Jihyo in front of the class, calling out her mistakes. Not even any feedback or constructive criticism on how she can improve…

This is why Jihyo feels the way she does, she doesn’t need a repeat of her mistakes. The talented girl has heard it many times, thus she always thinks she is not good enough.

 

Maybe her teacher hates her that’s why she keeps calling on the poor girl..

 

Park Jihyo deeply exhales whilst sinking into her seat, it just kills her, and she feels emotionally hurt.

 

The bell rings, and as if today can’t be any worse, she has to attend detention.

She grabs her backpack and crumbles the assignment, shoving it into her bag.

 

 

Jihyo walks across the quad limping, still feeling the burn on her knees. Her hands and forearm ache from the fall.

 

She finally makes her way to the nurse’s office.

“Hi, I need a bandaid…,” she politely asks.

The nurse hands her several band-aids and she takes a seat to bandage herself.

The pain is there but it’s not as bad as it was when she first fell.

She quietly chuckles to herself.

The pain hurts the most when words leave scars.

Jihyo leaves the nurse’s office, walking across quad in a different direction to another building for detention. Still limping, she reaches for her tardy slip in her pocket. And she’s late, but she doesn’t care.

 

She hands the tardy slip to the teacher’s assistant. 

 

Son Chaeyoung takes the paper and puts it along the stack of other tardy slips.

 

Current time: 3:03 P.M. – Detention starts at 3:00 P.M. & ends at 3:30 P.M.

 

“You’re late,” Chaeyoung whispers.

Jihyo stares at the girl’s face despondently.

“Sorry,” she whispers back, giving the girl a slight smile because she finds her dimple adorable.

“Take a seat student,” Chaeyoung says nicely eyeing the desks.

And Jihyo continues limping to the seat in the farthest corner of the room.

Chaeyoung notices the scrapes on the gloomy girl’s arms and her bandaged knees.

And she suddenly recalls her memory from earlier linking Tzuyu’s fall with this girl’s. 

Jihyo stares at her desk, sitting there dumbfounded. She leans her forehead on the cold desk, closing her eyes. She’s tired, emotionally, physically, and mentally.

 

A tall girl walks in almost tripping to collect her slip, which had somehow made its way on the floor. She embarrassingly smiles and hands the slip to Chaeyoung. And instantly Chaeyoung laughs, because Tzuyu has just handed her a fake tardy slip.

 

Chaeyoung doesn’t mention Jihyo or the fall, instead she stays quiet.

 

Chaeyoung slyly smiles at her best friend, Chou Tzuyu. She finds it cute that she would find time out of her day to hang out with her.

 

Tzuyu has never been late to class, but to spend time with her best friend after school she makes fake tardy slips. That’s their secret, and she knows Chaeyoung wouldn’t tell the teacher.

 

She too takes a seat in the far corner and sits there staring at her fingernails and hands.

 

Unsure which slip is Jihyo’s since she’s collected other tardy students slips already, Son Chaeyoung takes the attendance, even when it’s not necessary. Gathering the stack of tardy slips, she begins to call names.

 

She reads each name on the slip, then peaks at the students who raise their hand as their names are called.  

 

“Park Ji-hyo,” she calls pursing her lips, and again her dimple appears.

No sound or movement, and Chaeyoung calls the girl’s name again, this time louder.

 

Jihyo raises her head and claims herself, “here.”

 

Resting on the desk, she suddenly feels utterly depressed. Overwhelmed by the mix of emotions, she just wants to sleep and cry.

 

How hard would she need to slam her head against the desk to injure herself?

“HARD AS DUH!,” the voice within answers.

 

And Jihyo gently motions her forehead on the desk, , Pt, Pt, Pt, Pt,…Pt, as if she is about to really slam her head hard.

 

“You’ll become dumb if you keep doing that,” the tall dark haired girl next to her says.

Jihyo tilts her head to see who is speaking.

Not knowing who this girl is at all or why she would even speak to her.

Nor having any recollection about the girl from the falling incident, Jihyo is practically oblivious.

“It wouldn’t matter anyways,” she replies.

“What’s your name?” the nice girl asks.

“….Jihyo,” she hesitates.

“Oh, I’m Tzuyu. Well Jihyo, I hope everything is okay, we all have bad days,” the kind girl reassures nodding her head, trying to send comfort.

“Thanks?,” Jihyo replies giving her a quizzical look.

 

Chou Tzuyu’s kind words don’t seem to work on Jihyo and she still feels like .

 

Jihyo checks the time, 3:06 P.M.

Why does time go so slow when I have been sitting here for so damn long??

 

Chaeyoung assigns duties for the tardy students, and she purposely groups Jihyo with Tzuyu.

 

 Jihyo and Tzuyu are stuck with desk cleaning.

 

Tzuyu oblivious too, kindly hands Jihyo a towel with a spray bottle and they both begin their consequential work.

 

Moving to the opposite corner, Jihyo sprays water onto the desk and starts scrubbing and wiping it with the towel. She rids the stains off the desk and continues to clean away. Several desks in, she reads the carvings made by some students. Some carvings and writings are meaningless and random, but some stop her in her tracks.

 

We made it! –HM & MM- 15’

 

Jihyo wipes down the permanent carving as if it’ll go away. Tzuyu glances at Jihyo and she gives the girl space, letting her be.

Tzuyu sprays the remaining desks and wipes them with the towel.

 

She folds the towel, hand bigger than the towel, and her pinky wipes along the wooden part of the desk and she shrieks, dropping the spray bottle and towel.

 

The spray bottle clunks to the ground and everyone stares at her even Jihyo.

 

Tzuyu applies pressure to her finger before letting go to realize there’s a splinter in her finger. The pretty girl on her index as if her tongue could pluck the piece of wood out of her finger. 

 

There’s eagerness in Jihyo’s eyes and she wants to respond to Tzuyu. But her mind and actions don’t agree. She shouldn’t bother…

 

Park Jihyo checks the time, detention is almost over. There’s somewhere she needs to be and she can’t be late.

 

Jihyo wipes the last of the desks and folds her towel neatly. Approaching Tzuyu, she looks at the pretty girl, feeling a little envious of her beauty. Pretty and tall. And automatically, Jihyo thinks and assumes Tzuyu must be a model. She just stands so straight, seems like the girl is super confident, and that she must be from the fashion model department.   

 

Tzuyu observes her finger to see if the splinter is out. From the corner of her eyes she see’s Jihyo limp-walk towards her and the bandages on her knees.

 

Jihyo should ask the pretty girl about her finger, but instead hands the spray bottle and towel back. To show she’s been to detention, she signatures the blank paper on the clipboard with her name and student ID.

In a rush, she quickly grabs her backpack, and jolts for the door.

 

And like that Tzuyu recaps the fall and connects the girl she crashed into with Jihyo. She immediately tells Chaeyoung as if it’s a secret she can’t keep. And Chaeyoung just looks at her because she already knows.

 

 

Jihyo attends private vocal lessons everyday afterschool. Mrs. Park wants the best for her daughter even if these lessons are insanely expensive.

Therefore, she can be late to anything else but this.

Jihyo doesn’t see a point in these lessons anymore. But she still gives the slightest of effort. I mean that’s the least she could do right? For her mom that is…

 

She just goes to please her mom.

 

It seems as though she has already given up on music and possibly life.

 

The sky is still dark and the rain hasn’t stopped. Jihyo sighs, “what a sad…sad…sad….day.” Having forgotten her umbrella, everything seems wrong today.

Drenched from the rain, Jihyo’s clothes are wet and so is her hair. She’s sniffs her runny nose, and fixes her hair.

 

Jihyo politely greets Mr. Park, and respectfully bows.

She makes her way to the bathroom and cleans herself. Drying her hair with excessive paper towels and using the hand dryer to dry herself entirely. She joins Mr. Park who is patiently waiting for her.  She hands him the musical assignment and he briefly skims through the lyrics. He hands back the lyrics with a bunch of notes and comments.

 

Jihyo does the usual and practices her singing, warming up with simple lines first.

She looks over the comments and ignores it and sings the lyrics as if she’s reading them aloud.

 

Mr. Park gives her pointers and she practices again. This time actually putting in some effort. She thinks back to her past and the next thing she knows is she’s feeling emotional. This girl’s on an emotional roller coaster and she begins to sing from the heart.

 

Following the tips and instructions of Mr. Park, Jihyo takes his suggestions into consideration.

 

Again and again, Jihyo sings.

Mr. Park closes his eyes to hear the true voice of Jihyo. And he nods his head whilst smiling with his eyes closed.

 

Feeling the urge to want to cry, Jihyo’s voice cracks and she chokes and Mr. Park opens his eyes.

 

Jihyo clears , not wanting to sing anymore. If giving the slightest of effort makes her sing in a certain way, then imagine what she would sound like if she gave her all, or tried her best.

 

“Good, good,” Mr. Park says smiling and giving her a thumbs up.

 

Mr. Park gives her extra music sheets with lyrics to practice and additional pointers on songs that are harder to sing.

 

Mrs. Park arrives at Studio JYPE to pick up Jihyo. As she patiently waits for her daughter’s session to be over, she chats with the receptionist.

 

“Jihyo, you have potential, you’re talented. So don’t limit yourself and your voice. Earlier I could feel you sing differently, and I know if you sang like that, or put your feelings into the song, then it could take you places. I know talent whether I hear it or see it.” Mr. Park gives Jihyo his two cents. Though Jihyo’s heard these words before, she just simply thanks Mr. Park. Jihyo doesn’t accept the truth that she’s talented or that her voice is great anymore. Having been rejected countless times, she’s lost confidence in herself.

 

Mr. Park walks her out of the room and she see’s her mom. Shocked to see her daughters bandaged knees, she has a moment with Mr. Park.

 

Mr. Park and Mrs. Park converse and Jihyo takes a seat to check the time and fiddle with her phone.

 

She see’s her mom nodding her head at whatever Mr. Park is saying but all Jihyo wants to do is go home and sleep. She’s had a long day, she’s exhausted; drained. Her body aches, it must be from the adrenaline after the fall.

 

“What happened to your knees???” Her mom eagerly asks whilst starting the car.

“Nothing,” she murmurs and puts her hands on her knees.

 

She sits in the car staring outside the window. Her eyes are fixated at the dark view. And whatever her mom is saying goes in one ear and out the other.

“Jihyo,” her mom calls loudly for her attention.

And she sneezes, snuffling her runny nose.

“Are you sick?,” her mom worriedly asks.

Jihyo shrugs, “maybe…”

 

 

She stares outside the car window again…Randomly thinking to herself.

Is it possible to die from a cold? 

 

Jihyo sighs and her mom helplessly looks at her.

 

“How was school today, dear?” Jihyo’s mom asks out of concern.

“…great,” Jihyo lies, giving her mom a one word reply.

 

 

They arrive home and Jihyo walks normal to her room, not wanting her mom to worry about her.

She sits down, having a moment of silence. Staring at her messed up knees and forearm, she gets up to the get the first aid kit from the cabinet. Closing her door behind her, she swabs the sides clean before applying it in the center. The peroxide burns, but she continues to apply it to both of her knees, hard pressing the scraped area, so it doesn’t get infected. And her face scrunches from the burn. The peroxide drips down her legs and she cleans it, then applies antibiotic ointment to keep the wounds clean. She does the same with her forearm but it doesn’t burn as badly. She carefully bandages herself up. She recalls the fall and replays the accident. Realizing she didn’t even help the girl she bumped into with her books.

 

She should’ve showered instead, but she’s drained. She lays back down in her bed, staring at the ceiling.

 

Closing her eyes, Jihyo puts her earphones on, drowning herself from the world and her thoughts.

Humming to the song, she falls asleep.

 

 

Jihyo wakes shivering from the cold with sweat on her forehead. Her clothes are partially wet from the sweat and feels dry. She unfolds her blanket, covering her body.

 

Tossing and turning, hot one minute and cold the next, she feels dizzy. She weakly feels her head and she’s caught a fever.

 

It’s almost 4 A.M. and schools in 3 hours, she continues to sleep, ignoring her fever.

 

Her alarm beeps and she presses the snooze button.

 

Five minutes later, her alarm beeps again. And she hits the snooze button. Feeling extremely weak, Jihyo continues to sleep.

 

“JIHYO,” her mom calls but no response.

Jihyo hears her mom but doesn’t have the strength to yell or reply.

 

A knock at her door and her mom enters her room, “time for school.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Her mom asks.

 

“I’m sick,” Jihyo whispers whilst looking at her mom with sleepy eyes.

And her mom feels her forehead to see if anything is wrong with the sick girl. Her forehead still remains hot and her mom squeezes her daughter’s hand.

 

“Okay, don’t go to school today, rest up, let me get you some medicine though,” her mom says worriedly.

 

 

Her mom brings a glass of water and two pills for Jihyo to take. And she swallows the pills at once. Closing her eyes she goes back to sleep.

 

Jihyo’s mom knocks at her door once again, checking her daughter and she’s sound asleep. Jihyo’s mom sets the food on her desk and calls for Jihyo to wake.

 

The sick girl wakes feeling a little better and less dizzy. Her mom feels her forehead again to check the fever, and it has subsided.

 

“I made you pork bone soup, you need to eat to regain strength and recover from your sick,” her mom states while leaving and closing the door behind her.

 

Jihyo