My fingers restlessly drummed against the car door’s arm rest the whole drive. I was so excited, I almost forgot to receive my change from the taxi driver. I had to actively stop myself from running to our designated meeting location. Just the thought of our date made my heart race. Was this normal? Was I just being obsessive? Or maybe this was just my inexperience coming out?

              As I approached the location, a smile involuntarily formed on my face as Tiffany’s figure came into view. However, I slowed down when I saw her face and stopped completely when I saw her engaged in a conversation with someone else—a woman, who was donning an expensive-looking dress and high heels, that I’ve never seen before. Judging from the uneasy look on Tiffany’s face, it was someone she wasn’t too keen on encountering.

              I found myself hiding myself from her line of sight, lingering just close enough to be within earshot of the two. Why I was doing this, I had no idea: guilt gnawed at my consciousness, but I just couldn’t bring myself to confront the two. It was clear that Tiffany was uncomfortable, but unlike the situation with the guys from before, this situation seemed different: the woman seemed more fierce, more confident … more scary.

              Why was I like this? I cursed at myself for being too scared to protect my girlfriend; if I wouldn’t do it, who would? Even yesterday, Tiffany came to my rescue the moment I needed it. Some girlfriend I was.

              “I know you recognize me, Tiff,” the woman said. Even her tone reflected her appearance: confident. Fearless. Terrifying.

              “I’m sorry,” she said timidly, more so than I’ve ever heard in the month I spent back in Korea. She was like a completely different person. “I’m busy right now, I’m waiting for someone,” she said, trying to step around the woman to scan the area. I quickly shrunk away, making sure I wasn’t visible by her. Why was I doing this? I was deeply ashamed of myself, but still, I couldn’t pry myself from my hiding spot.

              “Oh? Is that why you quit? Did you get a boyfriend?”

              “No, that wasn’t it,” Tiffany replied. If I wasn’t watching move, I wouldn’t have ever been able to tell that it was Tiffany speaking.

              “Come on, you must have had some reason,” the woman pressed. Tiffany’s body language further implicated what I could already tell from her tone: her darting eyes, her nervously clenched fists, her constantly shifting legs—they all screamed ‘get me out of here’. I wanted to rush in and save her, but now it was a combination of fear and curiosity that rooted me just behind the pillar I was standing behind. My shame made me sick to my stomach, but still, my legs remained frozen.

              “I did,” she replied softly, taking a step to the side. However, the woman followed Tiffany’s actions, blocking her again.

              “You were the most popular one. The bread winner. Do you know how many of our customers were sad when they found out you left?” Although I couldn’t see the woman’s face, her tone made it sound like she was sneering. My chest inflated, my fists inadvertently clenching, a surge of anger flooding my body: who was she, and how dare she bully Tiffany?

              Just as I took a step from the pillar, Tiffany replied in a loud enough voice to draw pointed glares of passerby, “You don’t have the right to be mad. My leaving ended up benefitting the rest of you, didn’t it?”

              The sudden attention seemed to put the stranger on edge. “Tiff—”

              “Do you want me to make more of a scene?” Tiffany’s voice had regained its confidence at this point; I just stood there in awe, admiring my girlfriend’s display of strength.

              The woman backed off, eventually melting back into the crowd of people. Tiffany took a deep breath and sat back down on the bench.

              I followed suit, calming my emotions down. It was best if I didn’t bring this up, I decided; in fact, I may as well forget that ever happened. Tiffany will reveal everything in time; something like that felt like something I shouldn’t rush. Would Tiffany hate me if she discovered this lie?

              I expelled the thought from my mind. Don’t overthink things, Taeyeon; Tiffany’s the one person I can never predict, remember?

              I situated myself properly, counting to 90 before walking out from my hiding spot.

              “Fany!” I greeted as I approached her; she looked up, a beaming smile erupting on her face. That was all I needed to feel at ease again. Her smile, her laughter, her touch: did everything about her have magical soothing qualities?

              “Taeyeon! Oh my gosh, you look so adorable,” she said, standing up and pulling me into an embrace. Although the compliment embarrassed me, I miraculously found myself not blushing. “Did you just get here?” she questioned.

              Inside my brain, I applauded her acting ability. It was an innocent question, and if I hadn’t just witnessed what I did, I certainly would’ve assumed it was; however, I knew it was probably to address her conversation just now. If I had walked out immediately, it would’ve been difficult to pretend to not have even heard her shouting, which was why I had stalled for a bit before emerging from that pillar.

              “Yeah,” I responded casually, “how long were you here?”

              “Oh, it wasn’t that long. Thinking about you makes time fly by quickly,” she said, beaming at me. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sappy comment.

              “Let’s get going then,” I told her, linking arms with her. Her usual antics were certainly helpful in regaining my excitement for this date, and while it was nice to see her return back to her usual self, I found this line of thought hypocritical. It was partially my fault that Tiffany suffered as much as she did; if I just had more courage, then I would have been able to protect my girlfriend.

              “You said you had something you wanted to do, right?”

              I nodded, quickly rummaging through my head. “Yeah! Should we do that first?” She nodded, urging me to continue. I dragged her to a tattoo shop, explaining to her along the way, “I thought it would be cute if we had matching tattoos or something.”

              It didn’t feel proper to reveal my true intention: would Tiffany just laugh at me? Would I creep her out with my obsessiveness? I wanted a permanent form of verification that Tiffany belonged to me, as I had no intentions of ever letting her go. It was my way of reminding other people to stay away, even when I was back in America.

              Tiffany seemed greatly enthused by the idea, and after receiving some advice from the people working there, we ended up each with a puzzle piece that uniquely fit the other, with the word ‘Tae’ written on Tiffany’s wrist and ‘Ny’ written on mine.

              After we emerged, we admired our tattoos while heading to our next destination. However, after some time, the guilt in my consciousness built up to a point that I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

              “Fany, I have a confession.” She stopped and turned to look at me, her eyes shining, urging me to continue. “Do you—um, the real reason why I wanted these tattoos is, um …” I found the words stuck in my throat, the fear of Tiffany reacting negatively seizing my body. Calm down Taeyeon; remember, Tiffany is someone I can never predict.

              “Is it because you wanted a permanent reminder that I’m your’s?”

              I inhaled so quickly, I nearly choked on the air entering my lungs. “Y—Yes,” I admitted, coughing a little while speaking. Tiffany chuckled, squeezing my hand.

              “I love it. Wow, to think Taeyeon is so possessive over me … it honestly makes me we—”

              I covered with haste, my face blooming in red. Darn it, I thought I had this under control; it was going so well until now, why did she have to do this?

              “Don’t say that in public,” I scolded her quietly, looking around. Sure enough, we had drawn the attention of a few people, but most of them just glanced at us before walking by.

              “Ah, sorry,” she chuckled after I retracted my hand.

              “Anyway,” I continued, Tiffany leading the way once again, “honestly, it was because I wanted to remind everyone else, even while I’m back in America, that you’re taken.”

              Tiffany frowned. “Do you not trust me?”

              My muscles tensed up in panic. “No! It’s not like that, it’s just that I’m too insecure—”

              Tiffany cut me off, laughing. “It’s ok TaeTae, I’m kidding. Honestly, I’m happy that you have that tattoo as well, it makes me feel safer too.”

              “Don’t scare me like that,” I whined, frowning.

              “I’m sorry TaeTae, seeing you pout like that is just so precious,” she said as if it perfectly explained her actions.

              I huffed. So basically, if I wanted Tiffany to stop doing that, all I had to do was stop reacting like this. It was probably easier said than done, though…

              Our lunch consisted of the food we bought from the various food stalls that were dotted about the massive shopping place. Tiffany didn’t seem to have a specific goal in mind, wandering about and entering random stores.

              While usually, I avoided going shopping with Jessica because of the amount of walking we inevitably did, it was a completely different story with Tiffany; we similarly walked a lot, but I barely even noticed it. Just being in her presence, talking to her, holding her hand, watching her trying to contain her excitement (and failing miserably) while trying on numerous different outfits, it all made me inexplicably happy.

              After Tiffany emerged from a store, bag in hand, she spoke up, concern in her voice. “Taeyeon, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

              “Hm?” I said, taken by surprise, “It’s ok Fany, you couldn’t have known.”

              She shook her head. “No, it’s … from our time together, I guessed that there was something about your past relationship, but I didn’t realize it was bad,” she explained. My mind briefly flashed to our chance encounter with Yoona a few weeks ago: did I give something away? “I shouldn’t have pried,” she concluded, adding, “I’m such a hypocrite, aren’t I? I claim to hate liars, yet I lie to you so easily.”

              “What?” I said, utterly confused, “Aren’t you the one who told me so many times to not beat myself up over these kinds of things? No one can be perfect, everyone has been a hypocrite at one point. If you keep on doing this, I’m going to really be mad at you,” I warned her.

              “Oh, really?”

              I really should know better than to word it like that. I really should, but why didn’t I?

              “Fany, don’t say it,” I told the slyly grinning Tiffany.

              “What? Say what?” she said, her facial expression instantly morphing into an innocent expression of surprise.

              I shook my head, smiling nevertheless. “Anyway, I didn’t even answer your question, how did you know to cover for me so quickly?”

              “I guess I just know you that well,” she replied in a boastful sing-song voice, “You said it yourself before, didn’t you? I can read your mind.”

              The way she spoke those words along with the accompanying look she gave me hinted that she was referring to something that happened already; however, while I have thought something along those lines before, I don’t ever recall saying something like that out loud. If I did, I would for sure remember judging by how embarrassing it would be. The only instance I would say something like that is … wait. No way.

              “Did I say something like that when I got drunk that one time?” I inquired. To my horror, Tiffany’s joyous nod reaffirmed my suspicions.

              “Oh my god…”

              I wanted to disappear in embarrassment. Did I honestly say that? I can certainly imagine myself saying it, but I really didn’t want to. Did I say that? Why did Tiffany have to remember it?

              “Don’t worry, it was cute!” she said enthusiastically.

              “Maybe to you it was,” I replied, “but it’s really embarrassing to me.”

              The lights suddenly grew dimmer, a wall of strong-scented perfume hitting me. I looked around, jumping out of my skin as I realized what kind of shop we were in.

              “Fany! What are we doing here?” I said in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure I wasn’t accidentally offending any employees.

              “What?” she said innocently. “What do you mean?”

              I pointed at the mannequin wearing scantily-clad clothing. “Why are we in a lingerie shop?” I responded urgently.

              “Oh! Are we?” she said, continuing her innocent act. “I didn’t notice, I just aimlessly wandered in.”

              “Don’t lie,” I tugged at her, unable to overpower the taller woman, “We don’t need anything from here.”

              While frantically looking around, I happened to notice an employee who, when making eye contact with me, gave me an embarrassed smile.

              “How can you say that?” Tiffany said, having noticed the brief exchange. “You’re offending the employees here.”

              “Fany, let’s just go,” I urged, but to no avail.

              “Well now that we’re here, might as well try on something, right?”

              I shook my head frantically, urgently fighting the creeping blush on my cheeks. Curse Tiffany for putting that image in my head; the last thing I needed right now was a nosebleed from having indecent thoughts about my girlfriend in public.

              “I’ll—I’ll get something later, ok? For now, let’s just go,” I ended up saying, growing desperate.

              “Really? Do I get to pick?” Tiffany said with enough excitement to make me regret what I had just said.

              “Y-Yes,” I replied hesitantly, figuring that I would leave my future self to deal with that conundrum, my present self being far too panicked to think properly.

              Just as I was pulling Tiffany out of the dimly-lit shop, Tiffany stopped us. I whined, turning to Tiffany, who was in deep thought. “Actually, can I get you to model a variety of lingerie for me?”

              “Wha-What?”

              I started to sincerely panic at that point. A variety? How many did that mean? I mean, it was only going to be my girlfriend who was seeing me, but ‘modeling’ lingerie was still embarrassing. Still, because this was Tiffany, staying in the shop might still prove to be more dangerous; I might end up having to try on lingerie for her anyway.

              “It’ll be fun! I’ll even join you, how about that?”

              That sealed the deal for me. “Yes, ok, let’s do that,” I said quickly, pulling her the rest of the way out of the shop, a brightly grinning Tiffany in hand. Don’t think about it Taeyeon, this is a public space; for the love of god, don’t think about Tiffany in lingerie.

              “Taeyeon?”

              I jumped at the voice suddenly disrupting my thoughts. I instantly recognized it from my middle school years: despite having grown deeper, it was still detectable by its sharp, eager quality. Judging from the quick nature of the spoken words, however, I could tell that he was also eager for a distraction, which I found incredibly strange. When I turned my attention to the source of the voice and acquainted myself with the familiar face, the woman standing next to him caused even further confusion.

              “Oh, is that you Taeyeon? Wow, it’s nice to see you!”

              I subconsciously squeezed Tiffany’s hand. Who was she to greet me so casually, like an old friend? Had she no shame?

              No, I reminded myself: Song Yeseul was just that type of person.

              “Yeseul, stop that,” Leeteuk said firmly to her.

              She looked at him strangely. “What? Can’t I greet an old classmate?”

              Leeteuk sighed. “That’s not it. You know what, never mind about that. Hi Taeyeon, how are you?”

              Yeseul immediately cut in before I could even formulate my reply. “You’re doing well, right? I see you’ve made a friend,” she said, nodding to Tiffany. I pulled her behind me in a defensive posture, but she just continued casually, “that’s nice. It’s good to see—”

              “Yeseul, stop.” Leeteuk pulled her hand, using a commanding tone. “That’s enough.” He then turned to me. “I’m sorry about her, she’s—well, you know.”

              I felt a mixture of emotions bubbling inside me: anger, frustration, bitterness, all accompanied with a dose of fear and anxiety. “Hi Leeteuk,” I finally replied, summoning up the courage to converse normally, “I’m doing really well recently. Where’s Yoona?”

              Maybe it was a bit of the bitterness I felt from my past that still lingered, but I ended up blurting out the question before I could stop myself. I was shocked at my own words, usually being the type of person to think so much about her own words, I ended up saying nothing at all.

              Leeteuk’s mood soured at that: even I could tell, and I instantly regretted asking the question. “We broke up. Didn’t you two meet recently? She didn’t tell me why, but I’m pretty sure she felt guilty about … well, yeah.”

              “So now you’re hanging out with her?” I said, referring to Yeseul. Usually, I would hold back when showing my distaste for someone, especially when she was there in person, but not only was she someone to be hated, I knew that she didn’t care about being hated by people.

              “It’s not like that,” he reassured me. Yeseul’s expression told a completely different story.

              “Leeteuk, the past is the past, but at least don’t fall back on her. If you really love Yoona, you should go back to her and tell her that I said that she shouldn’t be feeling guilty.”

              Leeteuk let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh, you’re saying that I’m the one who should be feeing guilty, right?”

              This was something about him I always questioned: he always attempted to diffuse situations like this with humor. It was frustrating sometimes, but I could understand why he did it. “Well, you did ask her—”

              “Stop.”

              Leeteuk’s voice was more forceful this time; he usually had a playful demeanor, so seeing him this serious came as a sincere shock to me.

              “Taeyeon, are you ok?”

              Tiffany’s whisper came into my right ear, and it caused me to smile instantly.

              “It’s ok,” I reassured her. This was something I always wanted to do, a lingering regret that came up very frequently: facing my past and overcoming it.

              “Taeyeon, I know that even a thousand apologies won’t be enough, but please know that I’m really, really, sorry for what happened. I was younger then, and even though it’s not much of an excuse, I was much dumber and didn’t realize what might happen. Taeyeon, I’m sorry, I really am.”

              I could tell that Leeteuk was serious; maybe he had changed in the many years I saw him, but ever since I came to know him from my younger years, he had never had this sincere of an expression, this level of seriousness in his eyes—even when he apologized the first time. Still, as selfish, conceited, arrogant—whatever, it was of me, I couldn’t find it in myself to completely forgive him. I understood that Yeseul was the mastermind, but even understanding this, something unsettled me about him.

              “Thank you,” I replied simply.

              It was at this point that Tiffany interjected. “Hi, sorry to interrupt, but my girlfriend and I have a lot to do today. It was nice to meet you, but we should really be going now.”

              I couldn’t help but grin at Yeseul’s shocked expression. I wanted to just brag about Tiffany to her but ultimately decided to take the more mature course of action.

              “Oh, wow, ok,” Yeseul said, “I didn’t know you were lesbian.”

              “Seriously Yeseul—gosh, I don’t know why I even hang out with you,” Leeteuk said, exasperated.

              Tiffany promptly pulled me away. When we got far enough away, Tiffany stopped and turned to me, grabbing my other hand. “Taeyeon, are you sure you’re ok? You know that I love you and that I’m here for you, right?”

              I nodded, another smile erupting on my face. It was always amazing to me, how such a beautiful human being could say those things to me. Was I not the luckiest person on Earth? “I’m fine, honestly. Actually, you wanted to know about my past relationship, right? That man back there, Leeteuk: he was my previous relationship.”

Oh :o the question posed at the end of the last chapter is finally answered. What do you think happened with Taeyeon, Leeteuk, Yeseul, and Yoona though?

I think I left enough details in this chapter and the previous ones for you guys to piece everything together; I honestly didn’t plan on going much more into detail on the specifics of what happened until pretty late into the story, so let me know if you think you’ve got it.

Classes aren’t too busy quite yet, so I managed to get this chapter only two weeks later. That might change as the semester drags on, but we’ll see.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed!

P.S. check out my facebook page https://fb.me/affkesujo; if you want notifications as soon as something new gets uploaded, then go ahead and give it a like! :D