Sandeul arrived back to his shared apartnight that night, immediately slumping on the couch and delving into thoughts about his day, mostly about one particular part about his day, Yeojin. He couldn’t forget her, not anymore, not after he saw her again. All of the memories came flooding back and all of the efforts that he made to try to forget her years ago had flown out the window. In his mind, she looked exactly the same, it was as if she hadn’t aged a single bit. However, it could be said that he aged a little bit since high school and he wondered if maybe that was why she didn’t remember him.

            Back in the day Sandeul used to be a little bit chubbier, especially in his face. He also wore glasses that seemed a little too big for his face which probably altered the shape of his face. Sandeul had done some improvements to himself over the years, though. One thing was that he had gotten rid of the glasses and another was that he was no longer the small naïve boy that only loved to sing. He grew up and turned into an adult that didn’t do anything like that anymore. He was an adult that had real problems and didn’t need another one in the name of Jo Yeojin. His best friend since high school and roommate Sunwoo, known to everyone as Baro, walked through the door only minutes later and interrupted his thoughts.

            “You’re back early,” Sandeul commented.

            “Yeah,” Baro said nodding his head, “we had an early day since the producer wasn’t there today. We just did what we had to without him telling us how to do it over and over. Did I ever tell you how much he annoys me when he does that? Like I get it, I really do, but why do we need to continue doing it only to have it sound like it did in the beginning?”

            “You know, you only told me that a thousand times,” Sandeul chuckled as he watched Baro head over to the kitchen to get a drink.

            “I mean, we’re decent friends otherwise, but sometimes he just says things one time too many.”

            “I get that.”

            Baro made his way back into the living room and took a seat next to Sandeul on the couch and immediately noticed his friend’s strange expression. There was no doubt that they were friends since elementary school. The two of them could tell when something was up just by a single word or an awkwardly put pause in a sentence or even through their body languages. From what Baro could already see about Sandeul, something wasn’t right.

            “How’d your day go?” he asked, hoping to ease into the topic that was giving Sandeul such grief.

            “Same old, same old. Maybe I should get another job instead of working at my aunt’s restaurant.”

            “Maybe.” Baro shrugged his shoulders. He understood Sandeul’s desire to find something different but knew the reasoning behind Sandeul staying at his aunt’s restaurant. There was a comfort in the restaurant that Baro knew Sandeul needed. Perhaps, in a way, Sandeul was saying that he no longer needed the security and comfort of the restaurant. “Is there something bothering you, though?” Baro eventually asked. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

            “Why would you say that?” Sandeul wondered looking at Baro with wide eyes.

            “Just because,” Baro simply said waiting for Sandeul to fill in the rest. They had been friends for almost ten years. Baro wondered if Sandeul really didn’t understand or know that he could see right through him. That and the fact that Sandeul was a very expressive person. Anyone could tell when he was upset or bothered by something. His shoulders would slump and he’d just have a nonreadable expression on his face. Even if something meaningful or important happened, it was all written on his face.

            Baro was about to let the topic drop when Sandeul finally gave an inkling as to what had perhaps happened that day. “Do you think I should start singing again?” he asked.

            It was a question that wasn’t entirely new for Baro. Every now and then Sandeul would question his life decisions and his current place at his aunt’s restaurant. He would begin replaying the ‘what-ifs’ of his mind and wonder about what could have been. Singing had been one of his dreams ever since he was younger, but in high school it was a dream that Sandeul eventually had given up on.

            “Just like that…you’re giving up?” Baro had asked back when they were in high school, the moment that Sandeul had revealed to him his doubts about singing as his future. Baro always thought that Sandeul had a bright future when it came to singing. He had a beautiful voice that Baro thought the world deserved to hear, but if Sandeul was determined with his decision, then Baro knew he was being serious.

            “It’s just not the same anymore,” Sandeul said shrugging his shoulders. He said the sentence without even batting an eye. It was like it was normal. He had given some thought to it and he felt that singing just wasn’t the same anymore. He didn’t feel the same way about it compared to when he first started. In the beginning he was very passionate about it and about making it a part of his future, but as the time wore on, he began to see singing as a chore and something that brought up the painful memories of the past.

            “But that was your dream, you said you dreamt that ever since you were younger,” Baro said in an attempt to understand the position that Sandeul might’ve been coming from. “I understand that things are hard, but dude… It’s your dream. You can’t just give up on your dream.”

            “Was,” Sandeul clarified. “It was my dream. It’s not anymore and I think I’m ready to give up on it.”

            Baro wondered if Sandeul was doing some self-contemplating again, getting lost in his own thoughts about his future and wondered if the outcome was going to be the same, as in Sandeul not doing anything. But there was definitely something off about him. it wasn’t the typical attitude that Sandeul had when it came to possibly singing again. It sounded like there was a resolve, a type of determination in his voice that Baro hadn’t heard for years and honestly didn’t think he’d ever hear again.

            “I think you should do whatever makes you happy,” Baro said giving Sandeul the basic textbook answer. It wasn’t because he didn’t want Sandeul to pursue music but he knew that he should support Sandeul in doing whatever endeavors he wanted to. Baro had seen too much over the years, so much that he knew Sandeul needed more support than the average person probably needed and Baro wanted to be that person for him. “It’s your life after all,” Baro continued, “but I thought you liked working at your aunt’s.”

            “But it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

            “True, I can understand that.” Baro couldn’t argue with that logic. Working at the restaurant didn’t seem like the greatest life plan, but he was going to support his best friend no matter what he did. He always had faith that Sandeul was going to find himself once again, find his place in the world once again. It was as if he just needed a bit longer than other people.

            Silence fell between the two of them for a moment before Baro thought of a brief idea. “If you want,” he slowly began, “you can come to the office with me. I can put in a good word for you and maybe you can start singing some demos or something? That’s just if you want to get into the feel of things, you know?”

            “Hmm…maybe,” Sandeul said thinking about the idea. It wasn’t bad. Singing. It was something that he hadn’t thought about for a long time, something that he hadn’t done for probably longer. Singing always brought up memories of the past that he’d rather forget about. One of his most beloved things became one of his most hated overnight, the night where his world turned upside down. But now, after practically half a decade, it was something that he couldn’t shake. Singing was something that he dedicated his entire life to when he was younger. To just give it up completely would be foolish. Sandeul figured that maybe Baro was right all those years ago, maybe he just needed some time to move on.

            “Well I can talk with them tomorrow if you want.”

            “Sure,” Sandeul eventually said throwing Baro a little off since he was sure that Sandeul wouldn’t agree. “If you could, that’d be great.”

            Baro nodded. He knew people in the industry, he himself worked in the industry. People would knew them in high school would say that his love of music was influenced by Sandeul and that was no lie. It was Sandeul who opened Baro’s eyes to the beauties and wonders of song and sound and the affect that it has on people. Baro studied how a simple song could cause someone to bounce and dance along or to weep along with the lyrics as if they were the ones experiencing the pain themselves. Baro fell in love with the complexity that music offered, the different layers and experiences that combine together that he found himself wanting to pursue it as a career, much like Sandeul had wished for. He even held onto the hope that the two of them would someday be able to work together.

            “What spurred you to think about singing again, though?” Baro wondered. he was smart enough to know that that wasn’t all that was bothering his best friend. There was something else that he wasn’t telling him.

            “You know,” Sandeul said sighing. “I kind of saw someone today.”

            “Someone? What do you mean sometime? Did you finally get a girlfriend?”

            “No, nothing like that,” he said shaking his head. A girlfriend was probably the farthest thing from Sandeul’s mind.

            “Then what?” Baro questioned. It was slightly concerning that Sandeul was slightly dodging the topic.

            Sandeul took a deep breath and looked at his best friend. He knew that Baro wouldn’t judge whatever he said or whatever he felt but still, it was nerve-wracking. To say the name that he hadn’t said for years, to think about the person that once gave him nightmares possibly being back in his life, it made him scared. He had to say it, though. He had to tell someone, had to announce to the world that he saw her, but he couldn’t. The only person that he could tell was his best friend.

            “I saw Jo Yeojin,” Sandeul finally said after a long pause of silence.

            Baro was sure that his mouth involuntarily opened as he started at his best friend. “Jo Yeojin?” was all he could ask and mutter as Sandeul could only give him a nod. Baro hadn’t thought about her in a while. He hadn’t heard that name in a while. Everything about her had just started fading into the background for Sandeul and she just suddenly shows up? But as much as he was shocked, Baro attempted to keep his composure. Not for his sake, but for Sandeul’s. He didn’t need his friend worrying about something useless and unimportant. That’s what Yeojin was at that point, someone who wasn’t worthy of their worrying, someone who was just simply a part of their past. Baro didn’t need Sandeul overthinking things like he probably already was. It was better if everyone just forgot about her and got on with their lives.

            “They came into the restaurant today,” Sandeul continued.

            “They?” Baro asked, his curiosity piqued. He wondered if she perhaps came in with her parents but thought of that being impossible. There would be no way her parents would ever step foot in the restaurant.

            “Her and her boyfriend.”

            “Oh,” Baro softly said as he tried to get a read on Sandeul’s emotions but he only looked the same as he had the entire conversation. “Boyfriend, huh.”

            Boyfriend. The word just fell out of Sandeul’s mouth and it felt strange to say it, even to think about it. To think and to say that Jo Yeojin had a boyfriend just made it all more realistic than what it seemed before. It gave life and memories to Sandeul, things that he had buried deep inside years ago. But at the same time it made the past seem further away, it propelled Sandeul into the present, into his current present that was without her. It made the memories he had about their time spent together seem even more insignificant. It was a strange concept to grasp but one that he was trying to all day, the concept of Jo Yeojin happily living her life without him, without even knowing.

            The picture of the happy couple replayed in his mind as he thought about the moment he saw her, the missed opportunity to actually talk to her. It was just simply a day that had gone to waste and Sandeul was sure that another opportunity wouldn’t present itself. He just experienced his once in a lifetime moment.

            “You know, I didn’t actually talk to her,” Sandeul quickly clarified, hoping to explain the situation a little bit more to Baro. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted to explain himself but he felt as though it was just something that had to be said, for both of their sakes. “I wanted to…but I couldn’t. I just…couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

            Baro put a supportive hand on Sandeul’s shoulder as he turned to look at him with a heavy sigh. Baro already knew that there were no words he could say that would possibly make Sandeul feel better. It was an opportunity that was lost and while Baro may never admit it aloud to Sandeul, he felt as though it was better if it was just a one time thing. It already took that long for Sandeul to get to that point that any further seeing or even mentioning of Yeojin might revert him back to the way he was and that was definitely not a place or position Baro wanted to experience again.

            “You know,” Baro slowly began, “maybe it’s all for the better. It’s been a while—”

            “Five years,” Sandeul interrupted wishing to clarify the time frame.

            “Five years,” Baro continued. “It’s been five years, so maybe this is just the universe telling you that you’re in a good place now.”

            “You don’t think I blew it?”

            “You? Of course not. You don’t need to talk to her. Who cares? Who is she anymore?”

            Sandeul looked at his best friend for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Baro, I never thought I’d say this, but you’re right,” he said as a small smile began to show on his face. “Who am I to let a girl, who probably doesn’t even remember me, let me get depressed for a moment? I’m better off without her. I’m better off without her.”

            With that Sandeul got up from the couch and went towards his bedroom leaving Baro in the living room by himself. “Just keep telling yourself that, please just keep telling yourself that,” Baro whispered as he watched Sandeul disappear into the doorway. As much as Baro wanted to believe those words, though, he couldn’t. There was just something deep inside that was telling him this was only just the beginning and no one could be able to tell what was going to be coming next.