Episode Three

Yoon Bomi

Eunji’s face was nothing but apology. I was breathless, not with the happy moments but for a sad surprise that afternoon. It felt like my heart suddenly dropped somewhere. All I felt was sadness, emptiness. Even at the thought of Chorong unnie being far away, I couldn’t fathom it. Even the distance of us being apart before was hard, when I moved to Busan the first time… I almost couldn’t handle it. I missed her every day. I wanted to keep hearing her voice, to know that she’s still there for me, that her feelings never changed. I couldn’t last a day without a hint of her.

The thought of her being in a different country, probably on the other side of the world, is beyond my imagination.

How am I supposed to last a day without her?

“Look Bomi, I tried to help Chorong unnie to break out the news to you but it’s hard, for the both of us. We both, well, didn’t expect things. You know how Chorong unnie kept shutting people out right? Her push and pull games? It was part of the reason. I-I... this has always been the plan. I just—we just didn’t expect it. Everything was supposed to be easy, simple... and then you happened."

"Don't get me wrong, Bomi... I'm happy that you broke down the walls Chorong unnie built herself. B-but it was too late before we could do anything, before we realize the end point. I’m sorry…”

“I-I…”

I sighed, exasperated. If only my loud sigh could release all the cloudy feelings and the ache in my chest. If only.

“I need to talk to Chorong.”

Eunji nodded her head and tapped my shoulder. “Understand her. It’s hard for herself as well. She’s basically choosing between two things she loved dearly.”

I scoffed in my brain. So she’s choosing her career over me?

However, I realize that was hypocritical of me. I literally left her as well, a year ago, just because of this internship.

I saw her, sitting on the bench in her grandpa’s patio. She was holding unto a book, reading it with the saddest pair of eyes. It struck me then. It wasn’t my imagination. The random moments her face fell in sadness. It was momentary and yet I pushed the thought away. I didn’t know what makes her sad. Now I know it, I couldn’t even console her. There’s still a bitter taste in my lips, mocking me of what I did a year ago.

“I couldn’t believe you didn’t tell me.” I muttered, approaching her in the bench with my eyes staring blankly at her. “Why didn’t you say anything at me? You know you’re hurting me more as you keep trying to hide it away.”

She seems perplexed, caught red handed. She bit her lip for a moment, as if stopping herself to cry. I wish she wouldn