Taking a leap of faith, Irene had sent those texts. She waited patiently in the coffee shop, fingers wrapped tightly around the caramel latte she ordered fifteen minutes ago. She had arrived early, hoping to calm her nerves before her friend walked through the door with a telltale ring! from the bell above.

She didn't want to talk to Seulgi. She really didn't. She didn't know why. Her best friend was now the one person she could barely look at. Her body reacted too strongly from the simplest interaction, sending her heart into overdrive and making her chest seize, her lungs drowning despite being in a sea of air. Looking at Seulgi just reminded her of how she'd looked at Seulgi that day, emotionless. Exactly what Seulgi hadn't needed. She couldn't explain why she had reacted that way, which was, well, not really reacting. 

A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind. It was too much. Maybe she really was homophobic, and that thought twisted her up inside more than anything.

As fate would have it, just as Irene's chair scraped against the floor, Seulgi's slim figure walked through the door. Irene couldn't do anything except sit back down. She'd done this to herself. It was time to face it.

"Hi," said Irene in a small voice. She forced herself to meet Seulgi's eyes. Those warm, warm eyes. They were hesitant and unsure.

"Hey."

There was an awkward pause as either grappled for something to say, searching their minds for some coherent response to pop the silent bubble that encapsulated them separately from the rest of the coffee shop. They were in a different world, feeling different things than everyone else with their smiles and laughs also adding to the bustling milieu. Irene and Seulgi were just there to be there, to be awkward, and to begin repairing the irreparable: a break in trust, and a crack in impression. 

In what was an immensely emotional event, the weight of which Irene would never know (so she thought), Irene had not been the support she was supposed to be. She'd always been there for Seulgi, picking her up from the ground. Irene was there when Seulgi needed her. Always. Except for the one. The big leagues. Instead of taking their friendship up a step, Seulgi had stood up on that step and looked down at her before Irene let her fall down, tumbling to the bottom, where Irene rushed too late to help her, leaving them both at square one.

"I'm sorry."

It was Irene could say. The atmosphere was suffocating, the sense of Seulgi's suffering and reluctance choking Irene more than her own guilt.

"Okay."

"Seriously."

"I said, okay."

Irene desperately clawed at the wall in between them. "I'm sorry, Seul. I'm sorry-"

"Why'd you do it?"

"What?" Irene was taken aback by the question. Catlike eyes looked back at her, doubtful and unbelieving.

And so tired. Just so, so tired.

"I just want to know why you did it." Seulgi played with her hair, split ends.

Irene felt almost ashamed to ask, "Did what?"

"Why did you push me away?" Seulgi's tone was flat. She expected an answer.

“I... didn't."

"Then what do you call this?" Seulgi jabbed wildly at the space in between them. Her sudden flare of anger scared Irene, whose shoulders hunched forward, tense, while the rest of her body jerked back. "Look at us! We can't even talk normally. This is what we have been reduced to, and if you, Irene," a finger pointed towards the subject of her sentence, "didn't cause this, then I did, and I know damn well I didn't. You're the one who didn't reply to any of my calls or any of my texts." Seulgi slumped back in her seat, the energy she had all spent on a short outburst that didn't get across half the message that lay locked away in her heart. She didn't want to cause unnecessary drama with what felt like unnecessary words. That was for a later time. She alre