Jeon Heejin is known for many things.

 

Drinking beer while crying her eyes out is most certainly not in the list.

 

Yet here she is, half her body supported by the marble counter and treasured handkerchief now stained with tears, long forgotten in favor of the glass of half-consumed beer she stubbornly refuses to let go of. Accompanied by the presence of her trusty confidant and long-time friend Jung Jinsol, Heejin has never felt safer in a moment of weakness.

 

Then again, with how unstable she's been for the past few days, it wouldn't have been strange if she pushed away any regards for emotional security and broke down crying on her neighbor's doorstep. 

 

“I can’t—I can’t take it." Heejin hiccups, eyes glued onto the glass of liquor that only served to scorch her tongue and throat. “It’s been two months and I still—”

 

Her words get stuck in the thoughts that ade her mind with disturbing ease. Of nights spent cuddling in the comfort of soft, warm blankets, late-night walks around the local park, candle-lit dinners and serenades filling up the air she breathed—

 

All of it ceased to exist everywhere other than the paradise she'd built within her mind. If it was out of desperation or some other emotion she couldn't put into words, Heejin doesn't know. 

 

Heejin wishes she knew. 

 

Derisive laughter bubbles in Heejin’s mouth and she lowers her head to avoid Jinsol’s searching, worried gaze.

 

“It’s stupid, I know.” 

 

Another hiccup.

 

“It’s been a month, and—and he’s pursuing someone else now but look at me, I’m still here, still...” Heejin lets out a breathy laugh. “...stuck.”

 

Feelings have never been Heejin’s strongest suit, but she liked to think that she had enough control over her emotions to keep them from interfering with any aspect of her life, most especially her self-worth. 

 

Maybe she believed in herself too much.

 

A warm hand rests on her back, rubbing in an attempt to provide even a bit of comfort. Heejin feels the warmth spread all over her body and for a moment, her mind relaxes and allows it to soothe her. But she closes her eyes and they come rushing back. 

 

Picturesque thoughts of tousled brown hair and bright, toothy grins resurface beneath her eyelids, and once again she’s thrown out of balance, heart beating and pumping heat throughout her body.

 

It hurts.

 

Heejin groans, resting her head in the crook of her elbow.

 

“Heejin…”

 

Jinsol’s call is met by a muffled sound of acknowledgement. She bites her lip, hand stiffening, and eventually she lets it fall, resting her arm on the counter instead as she stares at the hunched figure of her friend. It’s not the first time Heejin’s come running to the bar to drink herself silly, but it’s one of the rare occasions where she drank more than she could handle, probably in hopes that along with some of the things she’d be doing in her drunken stupor, she’d be able to temporarily forget about the feelings she’d been forcefully bottling up.

 

Jeon Heejin is the type of person to keep to herself and suffer in silence. The thing is, it's not even easy to make her pause in her tracks, let alone have the capability to actually cause her enough pain to reduce her to a sobbing mess. Heejin had walls of obsidian around her heart, built by years upon years of self-sustenance, and Jinsol had never seen anyone completely break them down.

 

Except for, maybe, the love of her life and most recent ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. 

 

It's crazy, really, how easy it was for him to take her heart in his hands. Even crazier is how he could smile and talk to her so casually as if he isn't the reason she could barely hold herself together at all. 

 

For crying out loud, Jinsol thinks helplessly, even her last name reminds her of him. 

 

Jinsol frowns when she sees the girl’s shoulders tensing up as she tries to keep herself from crying.

 

Jinsol herself doesn’t have much of an experience with relationships, and as such, she could barely do anything other than tell Heejin things like; ‘it’s going to be fine’, ‘it’s going to be okay’ and keep her company. Honestly, Jinsol feels like she doesn’t even help much, but if Heejin’s fine with her, Jinsol’s more than willing to offer her a place to find comfort in. Heejin has never expressed anything even remotely close to dissatisfaction, but even so, Jinsol wishes she could think of something more to say than blabbering on and on about having a bright, optimistic outlook in life. It’s not what Heejin needs. What Heejin needs is—

 

Pause. 

 

“Hey, Heejin, can you hear me out?”

 

Heejin peeks at Jinsol behind her messy, tangled hair. “What?”

 

--

 

To be honest, the moment Heejin agreed to Jinsol’s idea, things were already bound to go downhill.

 

But, of course, with whiskey running through her veins, searing her nerves and by consequence, every thread of rational thought her muddled mind could have come up with if not for her own pitifully minuscule alcohol tolerance, it doesn’t take much for Heejin to succumb to temptations, especially ones with even the tiniest amount of sensibility.

 

Sensible is a term people never associate with Jung Jinsol’s clever ideas, but Heejin’s tipsy thought process had long since flown over that fact.

 

It doesn’t help that she’s currently nursing a broken heart--and pride, for that matter--so when Jinsol points at a figure sitting on a couch not far from the bar counter, Heejin hops off of the stool without much thought. Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t trip over her own feet despite the spots that were beginning to dance in her vision. 

 

She takes a moment to look back and sees Jinsoul mouthing encouragements at her. Heejin blinks. What did Jinsol tell her again? She turns away, trying to summon the memory as she weaves through the crowd, and maybe it's because she's too out of it to recall, or maybe she never even paid attention to begin with, but nothing comes to the surface of her mind. 

 

Heejin shakes her head, lowering her gaze onto her wrist and takes in the words on her skin, the black ink of Jinsol's fountain pen a stark contrast to her milky white complexion and the murky yellow lighting of the bar interior. All right. Heejin nods to herself. I've got this.

 

With the distance between her and the woman reduced to less than perhaps four steps, she slows her pace, eyes squinting in delight when she sees other up close. As if sensing Heejin's gaze, the woman looks up and makes eye contact. The moment she does, Heejin finds herself caught in a trance.

 

Words spill out of Heejin's lips, smooth as flowing water, or so she'd like to think. 

 

"Can you take me to the doctor?" 

 

Dark eyes twinkle in an emotion Heejin's too intoxicated to make out, but the woman keeps quiet, mouth gradually tilting into a smile. 

 

Heejin's smile widens ever so slightly. Slowly, she closes the distance between them, staring right into pools of black, seemingly challenging her to actually do something.

 

So she does. Exactly according to her script. 

 

"'Cause I think I broke my leg falling for you—" 

 

And then it came. 

 

It's a heavy, firm, and very muscular back that comes barreling right into Heejin's own. Taking into account the fact that Heejin is a young woman at the height of five foot three at most with a body fitness barely even good enough to get past 'passable' levels, adding to that her currently dismal state of balance and coordination, it's not a surprise when she falls over as easily as she said the cringy pickup line Jinsol had given her, courtesy of Google.

 

She's not sure she's still even hanging onto reality when she feels lanky arms wrap around her.

 

Heejin thinks she's going to throw up. 

 

"You know, usually when people tell me that same exact pickup line, they don't really mean fall as in, well, fall." There's a tiny, slightly restrained giggle just beside Heejin's ear. "Other than you. I don't think it's bad enough for me to actually take you to a doctor, though."

 

Even in her hazy, barely conscious state, it's not hard for Heejin to recognize the clear amusement in the other woman's voice.

 

"Oh, yeah?" Heejin murmurs, burrowing her nose into what felt like warm silk. "Take me on a date then."

 

At this point, Heejin's uncertain if she's already dreaming, but bell-like laughter rings in her ears. Heejin thinks it's beautiful.

 

Unfortunately, the aesthetic of the whole thing isn't enough to keep the bile in from lurching up.

 

At the very least, Heejin still has the mind to turn to the right, just a beat before she hurls. 

 

The last thing she hears is a small, breathy 'whoa' and then she's knocked out cold.