Never letting go of a person. Is that even possible? At some point in time, one will leave, willingly or not, and soon, the other will be gone too. So why even promise that you won’t ever let go? To comfort that person? To exaggerate your love and hope they believe you? Yongsun did believe her. 

"And what good did it do you?” Yonghee sighed. “We got disowned, you lost your… friend, and we’re here in the middle of nowhere.” Chuckling weakly, Yongsun raised her head to look at the stars. 

"This seems awfully luxurious for nowhere, don’t you think?” It had been months since the Kim sisters left Korea. They moved to New York, where they managed to connect with some of Yonghee’s old university friends who had left London. With the generous sum of money the two sisters had made from their previous jobs, Yongsun and Yonghee settled into their new apartment. It wasn’t as fancy as their homes in Korea, but was still considered above average. Yonghee had opened a small flower shop and was considering making a small cafe study space within the shop once she had enough funds. Yongsun enrolled in New York University’s Stern, still majoring in business. She had found a group of friends that she could merge with, making her days a bit brighter. Yet, when night came, she couldn’t stop returning to the memories of her last few months at home, especially the day that tormented her every waking moment.

Seven months since they left Korea. Seven months since she’s seen her parents, her friends, and her. 

Everyone told her to leave her in the past, but Yongsun couldn’t. Every time she lost focus, her mind would wander to the girl who threw her life into a disorder. Every night, she dreamed of her warm hugs and playful smiles. Whenever she had tteokbokki, she’d relive the night where they confessed their feelings to each other. It was hell.

"I'm going to head to bed, Yong. I have a feeling that the part timer will be late tomorrow morning. I swear if we lose anymore sales because the shop isn’t open on time…” Yonghee got up from the couch, drinking the last drips of beer. Yongsun sighed and watched her sister disappear into the hallway. When she heard Yonghee’s door shut, she turned back to stare out the window. 

Nine months ago, after waking up in Wheein and Hyejin’s dorm, Yongsun had become lifeless. She refused any food or liquids, opting to lay in bed. She would occasionally hear concerned whispers outside her door, but she never responded. Her heart had shattered in that cold mansion, but why did her feelings not disappear? Yongsun wished she could stomp out the fire and burn out the memories, but she couldn’t, and ended up replaying every single moment she had with Byulyi. While she regretted accepting the can of overly sweet coffee that had started their twisted fate, Yongsun could not help but miss the cuddles and warmth Byulyi had given her. And she hated that. She hated how she couldn’t forget the person who hurt her so brutally. She hated how instead of turning love to hate, those emotions were now mixed together. These feelings of hatred peaked when Yonghee explained to her how Byulyi had “came knocking on their door and shamelessly asked for forgiveness. Like, who even does that? So I told her to go herself and was so ready to slam the door in her face by Wheein, who is honestly too nice for her own good, pulled me away, told me to calm down, and stepped outside to talk to