It was two a.m. on a Friday night when Moonbyul decided to go out of her apartment for a smoke. She doesn't do it often, only when she really needs it. Like today. She's been losing sleep again, wasting time on the internet all evening after she came home from work. It's just a form of escapism, though. Ten-minute read articles, music videos, occasional Netflix documentaries and lots of coffee are what keeping her mind away from painful reflecting on her questionable life decisions. Unfortunately, from time to time those thoughts manage to cripple in somehow, and when she can't take them anymore, she smokes. She doesn't like to smoke on the balcony,  so she usually goes out.

Byul puts on her heavy black boots and black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, faded blue ripped jeans on the bottom. She takes a glimpse at herself in the mirror: her new orange hair (a lovechild of the desperate need to change anything in her life and a definitely spontaneous and rushed decision) goes really well with this outfit and makes her look really badass. 'If only you actually were as badass as you look, Byul-yi' She says to her own reflection with a disappointed sigh.

She grabs a Marlboro pack, checks if the old cheap plastic lighter is still there in her jacket's left pocket, locks her apartment and rides the elevator down to the lobby on the first floor.

Once out of her apartment building, Byul inhales frosty March air and thinks that it should probably be warmer by this time of the year. But who cares about a proper spring in this economy, right? She doesn't really go anywhere, but sits right on one of the five front door stairs, takes out a cigarette and lights it with cold fingers. She takes the first whiff and exhales the smoke into the night. All thoughts disappear, she is just watching fading smoke now. And that's exactly what she does it for: to smoke all the thoughts away and let them fade out in the night air, and by that gain some rare blank-minded time.

Occasional cigarette is okay, Byul thinks, but what really bothers her is that nights like this tend to happen more and more often. Why? Well, many reasons. Basically, everything about her life seems unfulfilled at this point. After graduating from university as a historian two years ago, she tried to use her degree but didn't particularly succeed at that. Having tried out few jobs during the first year after the graduarion, including working at a history museum and writing history columns for a local journals, she finally settled for an average office job instead, mostly because she got paid more there and could keep up with the coming bills.

Byul takes another drag of her cigarette. The truth is, she hates her job. The money is alright, but she feels like her mind is slowly degrading, having to repeat the same boring routine everyday. Make a report on this week's sales development, send an email invitation to partners, organize a web conference with service providers... That's her everyday tasks and she might even be good at what she does there, but she's not ambitious enough to get higher than a department's specialist because she consciously does not take any career opportunities. She just does what is required while it's well paid for. The worst thing is, a forty-hour working week doesn't leave Byul enough time for herself, let alone doing stuff she likes, like writing or drawing. Office routine is draining and stressful, and most of the times all she can do coming home from work at around seven pm every day is take a long shower, order some food and watch stuff. And that's it for the personal development.

Another drag of the cigarette. Byul feels her starting to freeze on a cold surface of the concrete stair she sits on and she shrugs. Suddenly she hears a high pitched female laughter, and the next moment a young couple appears from around the streets corner. Byul watches them as they pass by on the pavement right in front of her spot, hand in hand, laughing and constantly leaning on each other, as their walk is a bit windy. Well, it's Friday night after all, people tend to have fun, Byul thinks to herself.

Another drag, exhale, watch the smoke. Byul used to date people, too. Not much, but... let's get to the numbers. By twenty-five she has experienced three fully heteroual relationships and at least two serious girl crushes. None of the listed worked out in the slightest, though. The boys she used to date were all nice, basically. Noteworthy, they all had a strong feminine characteristics, both emotionally and physically (masculine manly men is definitely not Byul's type), and also had this "hopeless romantic and charming loser" attitude in common. But in all three cases she was the one to initiate the break up, because after a few months all the boys one after another tended to bore her to death and she decided she better off alone. As for the girls, well... Let's say, Byul almost never let her girl crushes know about her feelings and was very self conscious about being rejected by a woman. Also, she was a real chicken when it came to gay stuff. For example, four months ago at the office she tried to flirt with a cute secretary from sales department and then freaked out and literally ran away when the woman suddenly flirted back. At that point Byul decided she's not ready for anything like that yet. Honestly, it was always easier for Byul to feel gay rather than act as one. So, now she was deep into almost a year of no romantic activity whatsoever, and no matter how hard she tried to convince herself she didn't need this in her life, the loneliness only added up to the permanent frustration she already had, making it impossible to find no peace of mind.

Another drag, and Byul feels her hands are getting really cold while her mind dwells back on the depression topic. At least I have friends, she thinks. Well, Byul, yes. All two of them. The truth is, she doesn't even spend time with them that often. The one she genuinely considers her real best friend, Wheein, is now too busy with her new job, her family, and multiple projects and charity work she's always a part of. They graduated from the same university (Wheein few months ago, two years after Byul) and used to share a dorm room. Wheein was studying to be an architect back then and kept the greatest company. They grew to be very close and shared their deepest thoughts, concerns and fears with each other, and kept in touch even after the university didn't keep them together anymore. Byul would like to spend more time with Wheein, and could really use her friendly warmness and considerate advice, but she knows her friend is too busy living her disgustingly full life and it stops her from dialing Whee's number lately. The last time they went out was a month ago, and the lastest texts they've exchanged are almost a week old by now.

There's this other person that Byul is kinda close with now, it's her colleague Hyejin. Hyejin is the type of character you least expect to find doing a 9-18 day office job. Byul was mesmerized by Hyejin right from the first working day a year ago, and the effect hadn't worn off just yet. Stunningly beautiful, shamelessly y, unnecessary loud and openly gay radical feminist and human rights activist is what Hyejin is. There's more, though. She's also a dancer in a modern dance crew and a singer,  performing under her stage name Hwasa in gay clubs and events around the city. Obviously, the part time office employment is nothing more than a way to earn money for Hyejin, because she would never survive solely on dancing and singing, no matter how much she would want her activities in the underground-artsy-queer scene to be her full-time job with full-paid money. So she just got used to getting trimmed by their boss for poor following of dress code and being late too little too often, and just kept doing her job well enough to be considered a good employee who couldn't be fired easily. It must be the same feeling of being out of place in the boring office environment that brought Byul and Hyejin together, and also similar taste in movies and music. Hyejin took Byul out sometimes (its more fair to say she dragged her out) at the events and clubs to help her socialize and have a little fun, sensing some tension radiating from her obviously too introverted colleague all the time. Byul adored Hyejin and really appreciated the effort, but most of the time was too inert to accept her invitations. As a matter of fact, just tonight she ignored a text from her asking if Byul wanted to join her crew in some club. Byul was really not in the mood for anything like this today. Not when there's food and the internet at her place waiting for some action.
The thought of her two friends, no matter how much of a good friend she really is to them lately, is comforting. Byul notices she's almost smoked her cigarette to the filter. She throws the cigarette's into the trash can at the bottom of the stairs, gets up on her feet, stretches her neck from left to right, and looks around. No one except the previous giggling couple has passed by since, and the neighbourhood seems dead on this frosty Friday night. Byul considers it is about time for her go back to the apartment and try get some sleep. Well, maybe after she finishes her favorite mvs marathon. Tomorrow's Saturday so she'll finally get a good rest. If only it could make her happy, though. Byul sighs, turns around on her feet and starts ascending the first step towards the entrance when she hears a fierce whisper from somewhere above her left shoulder.

'Hey, redhead, wait! Do you have a light?' The voice is female, it's somewhere really close above and since Byul's the only human out there at moment, so the owner of the voice is obviously addressing it to her.

Byul looks up confused.

'Hey, hey, I'm here, right here!'

She turns her head to the left and notices a thin hand covered in the sleeve of an outstretched pink wool cardigan waving from the nearest window on the first floor, about seven feet away from Byul. The bush of long platinum white hair shows peeking out of the half-opened window too, revealing (as much as Byul can see in the street lamp light) a pretty yong girl's face with slightly frowned eyebrows. 

'Excuse me, are you talking to me?' Byul asks in full voice.

'Shhh! Lower the volume, please!' The stranger in the window gives Byul an angry disapproving look but then gets her pretty face back. 'So do you have a light? I saw you smoking.'

'Uh.. Um, yes?'

'Kay, great, throw it!' The girl forces her torso out of the window more to have a better chance of catching Byul's lighter. Obviously, she doesn't even consider that Byul might refuse to do it, like it's not even an option. Meanwhile the pink cardigan slips down from her shoulder revealing the fact that she was only wearing a pastel bra under it. 

'Um... Okay,' Byul is definitely taken by surprise by the blond's demand and reacts to it like it is a command.

The first story windows of Byul's apartment building are placed really low, and she's heard that it was quite noisy in those flats because of the close traffic, but they were also the cheapest to rent. Now it was practically a seven-feet throw to upper left from Byul's spot at the top stair, in front of the entrance. She takes few steps to reach the left edge of the stairs, getting close to the handrail. The blond sticks her two hands out like she's ready, outstretching her palms.  Byul takes the lighter out of her pocket, aims and throws.

The next second she hears a harsh high-pitched whisper-squeak from the receiving end, but then sees that the girl ended up holding lighter in her both hands.

"Phew, that was close!" she rounds her eyes and gives Byul a funny look.

The blond palms the lighter and suddenly disappears from the view back into the darkness of the room. Byul feels really awkward at the moment, not sure if she should wait for the lighter's return or if the girl considers it a gift. Gladly she is back in the window frame after something about thirty seconds, with a cigarette in her palms this time.

'Hiding those in my old coat's pocket' She explains, rising the small white stick in her hand shortly, to indicate the object of talking.  

Byul nods, not quite processing what kind of answer is needed exactly. She feels weird and really wants to go home. The blond lights her cigarette.

'Sneaking from your parents?` Byul asks. 

' What, parents? The blonde's yes round in sheer surprise. 'I haven't been sneaking from my parents for a long long time. Honey, I'm a grown and wise woman, I sneak from my husband now' She let's out a little giggle.

'Oh... Sorry, you just look really young,' Now Byul feels even more awkward.

'Don't be, I take it as a compliment' The blonde takes a drag. 'Oh and by the way, can I keep it? The lighter? I might want to smoke one more before the morning.'

'Yeah sure, you can have it' Byul says nonchalantly, rubbing her freezing hands. She really isn't into a smalltalk though, and now she's just thinking of the words to help her retire politely from this unexpected company, which is currently starting to mess with her almost soothed previously mind.

'Thank you, redhead, you're t h e  b e s t,' The woman tilts her head a little while taking a quick drag of her cigarette and makes heart slash puppy eyes at Byul.

Byul stamps on her spot indecisively.

'It's OK. Goodnight then, see ya' She nods and turns in order to finally go home.

'Hey-hey-hey, sweetheart, please' The blonde shifts out of the window a little more. ''Can you stay here with me just a little while I finish my cigarette?' She whispers in a whiny tone. 'If my husband wakes up I'll tell him I've heard a scream from outside so I opened the window, and you...' The woman pokes at Byul masterfully. 'You will say somebody's been trying to you.'

Really, Byul thinks.

'And if he'll ask where the is?' Byul surprisingly for herself plays along.

'I'd say I scared him off' The woman shruggs and grimaces to show her most scaring face, then gives a toothy grin.

'Why are you so scared if he knows you're smoking?'

'You kidding? He'll freak out big time and make me regret it all, I ain't want that!' 

'Oh...' Byul let's out, and this whole thing doesn't sound right to her. 'Ok, I'll stay, just smoke faster, I'm freezing'

'I'm almost done,' The sneaky housewife sounds amused now, breathing out another portion of smoke into the cool air.

They stay in silence while the woman finishes her cigarette, Byul propping the building wall with her back and facing the street now, her arms crossed to keep some warmth. Gladly blonde has finally received the 'i'm not in the mood to talk' vibrations Byul's been sending this whole time, and was silent while finishing her cigarette.

'So now tell me, why do  y o u  smoke here alone, redhead?' The woman suddenly asks, too talkative by her nature, as Byul gets it.

'I don't smoke.' She says grumpingly.

'Yeah, hun. Me neither,' The blond sighs dramatically and takes a solid last drag of her cigarette.

The truth is all theirs.

The blond finally throws the remains of her cigarette away and puts her cardigan's sides back on her shoulders.

'Freaking cold' She whines looking somewhere into the depth of the neighbourhood, then at Byul. 'You're a life saver, thank you for freezing your here for me,' The permanent playfulness leaves her voice at the last phrase, leaving only a sense of sincere gratitude. 

'It's okay, have a good night and... Well, don't get caught, I guess?' Byul says.

'Oh, I'm an ace, I won't,'  The blonde reassures with a smile. 'Still sure you're okay if I keep it?' She shows the lighter.

She does actually seem nice when she's not acting like authoritarian , Byul thinks.

'It's okay, like I said.' 

'Great! Bye then!'

'Bye.'

Byul gets back in her apartment, takes the shoes and jacket off, lands on the sofa in the living room and wraps herself in the blanket. She tries to keep watching the videos, but the blonde smoker keeps popping up in her mind, distracting.

Why does she have to sneak out like that simply to have a cigarette? Why does she have to lie? Byul thinks. There's definitely some ed up going on in their marriage.

Byul wonders what Hyejin would say about this situation. She'd probably be furious and say that's what ugly patriarchal marriages really are about.

But after all, it's that woman's choice, right? Who am I or anyone to judge?

Byul falls asleep on the sofa that night, with the TV on and her phone in her hand.