[CONTENTID1] The Official Apology [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2] "He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. —Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo [/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3]Suji received a call early in the morning. She grew irked when she saw Baekhyun’s name. He started to leech himself to her life.

            “Hello?”

“Hey, morning Suji,” he said, in a groggy, slurred voice. “Listen, about last night…thank you. It’s kind of you to drop me home.” He released a pained sigh.

            “You’re probably hungover,” she said, as she left her home and locked the front door. Her heart jumped when she almost stepped on a sleeping drunkard from the bar. “Get some rest, and stay home today.”

            “Mmhmm, thanks,” he said. “Umh…you wouldn’t tell the guys, I hope not. I don’t want them to know about me.”

            “I don’t stoop that low. I don’t tell my friends to kiss a stranger without their permission.” She imagined him blush over the phone after his flabbergasted sigh.

            “Ouch, you nail it right in the heart, Suji.”

“I do what’s best,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Okay, gotta go.”

            She was relieved when they ended the call. However, a nagging feeling weighed on her heart. Baekhyun expressed his gratitude with genuine sincerity. She imagined him slunk in bed, with his vision upside down, and his head ripped with an awful ache. Suji shook her head, and forced those thoughts aside. Besides, the last thing that would work for her was gaining sympathy for the opposite gender—when they least deserved it.    

            On her way to university, she took a break by the pier, and returned to Sehun’s story.

Lay Zhang has given his heart to the Ice Maiden. He still does not know how his heart would benefit her, but once he's given the brilliant light from his soul in her hands, he feels something leave him. It is a strange feeling, like ripping a piece of yourself, and leaving it behind like a footprint in the sand.

            His chest grows heavy, but he forces his horse into a canter, and crosses the bleak mountain range. The snowflakes end, and the rime vanishes under the bright light of the morning sun. Lay hungers for some hot food.

            Verdant hills greet him, rolling into one another, with talks of lavender that burst with their airy scent. The flowers dance in every puff of the wind. Beyond the hazy atmosphere, with its eternal calm, he finds a little cauldron, still lit with boiling stew.           

            Lay rubs the area in his chest. His heart is gone, and tiredness overtakes like a storm. He scouts for the owner of the strew. No one is about. Lay hops off the horse and inhales the appetizing aroma.

            Beef. He misses that. Lay removes one of his spoons from his bag and takes a sip of the savouring stew. He can taste the cumin and the spice from the fresh chillies.

            “Hey! That’s my stew!” a boy cries.

Lay gasps as he backs away. “My apologies. I was just driving by from the mountains.”

            The boy stares behind a messy mane. He wears a tattered tunic, but to Lay’s surprise, two wings emerge from his back. “You came from the mountains? That means you crossed the Ice Maiden.”

            “That’s correct,” says Lay. “She took my heart.”

The boy’s eyes grow wide on his face. His lips pucker in, and he recoils as if struck with some terrible knowledge he could not endure. “She took your heart? Why did you give it to her? Do you know what happens to people who trade their heart?”

            Lay begins to panic. He grasps his hair into his hands. “What happens? Tell me now.”

“I should tell you?” says the boy. “Why, you should know already. If you don’t get your heart back, sir, you will die very soon!”

A raucous laughter forces Suji out of her stupor. She frowned, because she wanted to know what would happen to Lay. However, it took her a moment to realise that a crowd pointed at her from the bridge, and laughed. She was not entirely sure why. At first, she believed she was struck with paranoia.