When did it all start?

He never got attached to people. He got attached once only in childhood and regretted it. His mother left him when he was eight. It doesn't matter anymore, but after that he realized that it’s not worth getting attached to anything in life. Time is fleeting and life is too short.

He had as much fun as he could, did whatever he wanted. Perhaps the only thing that fascinated him was art. Dance art, painting, music. He was attracted to all this, and he was undeniably good at it.

An agency scouted him and promised to glorify his name. Everything went uphill, even a meager apartment that he did not like played with colors. Tenth floor, tenth house, birthday on the tenth day. Lucky number and his nickname since childhood.

A new chapter began in his life: he painted the walls, made a studio out of his house, spent all the money from the company allowance to buy an old gramophone. And not a day passed without him painting, practicing or writing music.

There were many friends, but at the same time they were not that close. He never tried to please anyone, but for some reason people themselves were drawn to him. And the girls changed quickly: some themselves did not plan long-term relationships, and some were disappointed with his inconsistency. Until she appeared.

It would be foolish not to notice how she gazed at him every time from the balcony opposite to his. On the first day, she was just looking at his performance, but she was looking at him like no one else was. And he decided to let her do it, because he himself enjoyed her gaze full of admiration.

Day after day passed in constant dancing, but now he had an audience, and that was the best audience he could wish for. The girl pulled out a chair on the balcony, each time brought wine and observed him. And he secretly glanced at her. Ten loved openness, but then these hide-and-seek between them seemed absolutely perfect, and he had a lot of fun watching her.

But at some point, perhaps when she first burst into tears, watching him dance and he wanted to comfort her, or perhaps when he first danced almost to exhaustion, just to feel a mental connection with her a little longer... Anyway, it seemed to him that it was time to talk to her, and whatever happens will happen.

He felt hot, he took off his T-shirt (or maybe he did it just to embarrass her?), And she almost fell out of the railings. For the first time he looked her straight in the eyes (he was taken aback at how shiny and beautiful they were), grinned at her red face and said:

“ทะลึ่ง (Thalụ̀ng).”

He himself does not know why he called her a ert, because a true ert here was him, feeling every gaze of hers, as if she was touching him.

He invited her to his place. Didn't expect her to accept the stranger's invitation, but she no longer considered him a stranger. She calmly came to his place, huddled awkwardly on his old sofa, so fragile and elegant in comparison with all the old things that lay around her. And her eyes were still shining bright.

She began to live with him. The Korean woman who came here for some unknown reason, at some unknown time, he practically did not know anything about her, except that her name was Jisoo, and that she had the most lively and beautiful eyes of all that he had seen.

His agency gave him a shot exactly one month after Jisoo showed up. With her, luck seemed to return to him. And he got a muse. Unconsciously, he began to think about her every minute, especially when he was creating something. He wrote music, painted, danced. With the thought of her, everything worked out somehow by itself, somehow easily.

“You are my muse.” he said this to her unexpectedly. He could tell it by her wide, surprised eyes.

“And why is it all of a sudden?”

“Eh, I thought you were smart enough to understand right away.” He just teased, because he liked to embarrass or anger her so much. She slapped his shoulder playfully, making the cute face he was teasing her for. He wondered for a long time why he felt this way with her. Usually the answer was not found, but now the words burst out on their own. “Because no matter what I paint, you appear in my thoughts, and my hands begin to create by themselves. I... feel you. This has never happened to me before.”

She looked him straight in the eyes, as if testing his sincerity. He did not hide his gaze, did not turn away, and she understood everything.

“Do you love me?” This question bothered him for a long time. Did he love her? But the word "love" didn’t match what he really felt.

“Love?” He shook his head and she trembled slightly. He didn't want to upset her, so he hurried to fix his words. “This word doesn't explain it. It doesn't explain everything I feel.”

He looked at her, and he no longer needed an answer. Everything was written on her face, the answer was in her twinkling eyes.

“I feel it too.”

For a while he was silent, with her he did not need words to understand what she wants, what she thinks. Her feelings were an open book to him. But not her life.

“But I still can't forgive you for calling me a 'ert'.”

She attacked him, knocking him on his back. He lay and did not resist while she mercilessly tortured his face, smearing green paint and calling him an alien. How long has it been since he sincerely laughed. Was it because with her he felt.. like himself?

“You are like a part of me, that I once lost.” He had wanted to say this to her for a long time, but he could not earlier. Ten was good at everything, but not at explaining his sincere feelings.

However, he realized that these words were important to her. She his hair, tangled her fingers in it, and he remembered his mother. But Jisoo.. Her gentle smile, sparkling eyes, tiny fingers... He was afraid that she would see what he had been hiding for a long time, and drew her closer so that she would not read anything in his gaze.

..So when did it all start?

When did he start to crumble inside?

From the moment she disappeared. She just disappeared from his meager but bright apartment. On the way home, he bought donuts, because he knew how much she loved them, but he would definitely make fun of it.

But she was not there.

At first he was alarmed that the entrance door was wide open. Then he ran into the apartment, called her, but no one was waiting for him at home. Was he abandoned again?

He ran around the entire area, went to all the neighbors, reported the missing person to the police, and phoned morgues and hospitals with fear. For no wail. She was nowhere to be found.

An empty, cold apartment. The neighbor said that he saw some expensive car arrive, and Jisoo got inside of it, but he did not remember the number plate. Ten immediately took out a laptop that he had recently bought. He did not have social networks (which he now regretted very much), so he simply typed the girl's name into a search engine, hoping to find her somewhere.

And he found her. He found her page, which was full of photos: she is on the beach, in different countries with friends, her selfies, reposts, videos and music. He found everything about her, but did not find her herself. She was not online for six months, and messages were closed to everyone except friends.

Ten sighed in disappointment and opened another site, but the page was deleted. The third, the fourth, Ten didn’t count anymore. Opened any Park Jisoo, even examined the namesake, to be sure. But then he came across a news site.

And he saw her, but not in the usual hoodie with jeans. In the photograph, she was sitting at some party, in an elegant dress, smiling at the camera, the same sparkling eyes. But that wasn't what caught his attention. Next to her was a young guy in the same expensive suit and he was holding her hand. As if she belonged to him.

"Zhong Chenle and his beautiful fiancee Park Jisoo have announced their wedding date..."

Ten felt something cracked inside him. He already felt it before. This is an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and betrayal.

He closed the laptop with a loud thud and threw it away. Was that the reason why she never told him anything? Is she engaged? She was just playing with him all this time and planning to return to her husband, to the life that she was used to?

He rose from his seat and flew out of his apartment, slamming the door too loudly. He needed to get some air.