Jennie lost track of how many parties she’d been to thus far. Fifty? A hundred? A thousand? Probably more than a hundred, considering it seemed at least one was hosted every week, and for seven years – she didn’t want to do the math. Even her birthday parties blended itself well with the rest, the five layers of fancy cake the only thing setting the occasion apart. Only that, though, because everything else was the same: the fake guests, the champagnes, her mask, and the indifference of time.

Right now, she was who she was exactly a year ago, and the year before that, and the year before that. What was time good for if there was no change? If time could whisk her away from this torment, then she’d comply by all means, but alas, here she was, toasting to her birthday after her father’s ever so heartfelt speech.

Yeah. Time was good for nothing.

Presents were piled up at the corner, a mountain if you will. They all must be expensive, but Jennie wasn’t excited at the slightest. Many would perceive her as spoiled and ungrateful, and maybe she was. Giving a damn was hard when gossip was commonplace in this crowd, so let them think what they want. They were still the ones kissing her .

That was comforting to think about. Especially whenever one of the Misters – that disturbingly looked so much alike Mister Park that they must be twins – talked to her. At least Jongin was by her side this time, or else her tongue would slip again and another reprimand from her father didn’t sound appealing. He did the talking and she kept shut, simple as that.

“Jennie and I appreciate your gift,” Jongin smiled. “We’re happy you took time out of your day to celebrate her birthday.”

“Of course!” The Mister barked a laugh, his Mistress nodding along. “Who wouldn’t want to wish the princess a happy birthday? It’s her special day.”

Jennie strained a smile. “Thank you, Mister.”

Now take that conversation and multiply it by fifty, and that was the average amount of guests she would speak to. No wonder she was always drunk by the end of the night; the will to power through parties was only contained within the strong wine, but even the wine was losing its power. How unfortunate.

“Your wedding is two months from now, correct?”

“Yes.” Jongin took Jennie’s hand. “We’re very excited. You’ll be coming, I hope?”

“Of course! No one would want to miss such a momentous day – ah, there’s Mister Kim. Well, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Farewell.”

After the couple bidded goodbye, Jennie wordlessly slipped her hand out of Jongin’s and slumped into the nearest chair, some people at the table shooting her a frowned glance. Who cared if she stole someone’s seat? The tremendous headache was the main concern, the heels of her palms rubbing her temples vigorously to subdue it.

“Are you alright, Jennie?” Jongin asked, eyebrows creased as he pulled up a chair in front of her, not before giving the people apologetic bows.

“No,” Jennie replied, sighing heavily. “I’m so tired.”

Jongin worried his lip. “There’s a couple more hours until the night ends.”

“,” Jennie huffed under her breath, her face burying into her hands. “I can’t do this anymore, Jongin. I really can’t. My head is about to burst and these heels hurt.”

“Can you endure it for a little longer?”

The thing was, Jongin was very understanding. Despite their differences and awkwardness, he cared for Jennie and that couldn’t be more apparent. But it wasn’t deserved, and considering all he did for her and all he had to put up with, enduring for a little longer was the absolute least Jennie could do.

But she was so weak. Weak, nauseous, and languid. Not even the live band — which probably was the second best thing besides wine at these parties — could soothe her. The thought of crawling into bed and sleeping forever was irresistible at the moment, so Jennie shook her head.

“No,” she grumbled. “I can’t take another second of this.”

Jongin’s lips pursed into a thin line before he nodded, gaze soft as he eased the wine glass out her hand. “Alright. Let’s get you to your room. I’ll tell Joohyun.”

“Thank you.” The words were genuine, neither forced or awkward like many times before. Jongin seemed to pick up on that, the corners of his lips tugging ever so slightly while he supported her by her waist up the staircase. Appreciation swelled in her chest, and although it wasn’t said, hopefully he picked that up, too.

Jongin was both a blessing and a curse – a blessing because he was sincere, a curse because he was an unwanted arranged marriage. Of all the things to be lucky about, it had to be Jongin, which was quite ironic. But imagine if Jennie married another suitor? One of the sleazy ones? Shivers ran down her spine from the mere thought, or perhaps it was the coldness of her bedroom once they arrived.

“I’ll get water for you,” he said, lowering her to the bed after flipping the covers. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” Jennie muttered into the sheets fluffed to her chin.

After Jongin left the room, Jennie’s body sluggishly faced the window and curled into a ball for warmth, the cold still biting despite the covers. The curtains were opened, the bleary moonlight of the waning crescent bleeding onto her white walls.

Jennie’s feeble fingers squeezed and unsqueezed the fleece. The moon was beautiful tonight and snapping a shot was tempting, but her camera was excruciatingly far and she was in bed. No amount of energy could get her up to do so, even for a picture that’d look pretty in her scrapbook. It was unusual to miss an opportunity like this, but the drowsiness overtaking her senses left no room to think much more of it.

So she succumbed, settling to reminiscence the night of the moon’s other half instead.

~

The night couldn’t have passed by any slower. The grandfather clock told a quarter past ten, the golden pendulum swinging back and forth mockingly. Albeit the chattering of the birthday party, the heavy ticks echoed clear as day, tormenting Jennie as she sat at the banquet table, fingers drumming on the linen and occasionally looking up to greet the guests that came by to converse. About what? Who knows. All the words entered one ear and out the other.

All that was known was that Jennie was late. Jisoo had told her to meet at ten, and the hand inching nearer to half past ten induced anxiety and impatience. Was the girl still there? How long was she willing to wait? The leather shoes of another pair of guests snapped her out the loop, her eyes trailing up from the table to a man and a boy.

“Hello Miss Jennie Kim,” chirped the man. “We wish you a happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Jennie replied robotically, engineering the same mask she’d worn the whole night. Her gaze dropped back on the table, the prospect that they’d leave proven false when their leather shoes were still there.

“This is my son, Jongin,” he said, patting the boy’s shoulder who fashioned an awkward demeanor. “His birthday was actually two days ago. You two are practically birthday twins.”

“Father!” Jongin whispered through grit teeth, his cheeks tinted pink.

“Is that so?” Jennie said, flashing him a half-hearted smile. “Happy late birthday, Jongin.”

“Uh – thanks.” Jongin dipped his chin bashfully, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“He’s a nice boy,” the man continued as if auctioning him off. The ulterior motive was easy to dissect, considering it had happened around fifteen times – maybe more – since last year. Jennie bit her tongue to fight off the distaste bound to show in her expression. “He’s smart and very charming, don’t you think? I think you two will get along well!”

“Father!” Jongin whined. At least this time was amusing. Most of the time, the son would shamelessly agree with all his father’s compliments, their arrogance only feeding Jennie’s disdain rather than her attraction – not like she wanted to be attracted to them anyway.

“That’s great.” Jennie offered her hand out to Jongin. “Nice to meet you.”

His father nudged his hand, wide eyes urging him to shake. Jongin shot him a look before taking Jennie’s hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Jennie.”

The clock told eleven by the time they left. The eagerness for the party to disperse, to breathe the night air, and to see Jisoo was unbearable. Jennie’s nails raked the linen restlessly, and it was until it was ten past eleven that her mind couldn’t take it anymore, prompting her to slip out the hall to find Joohyun.

“Joohyun!” Jennie called upon spotting the maid sweeping by the entrance. The other’s head perked up as she bounded over.

“Yes, Miss Jennie?”

“I want to – uhm – take a walk. Is that fine?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows rose, her eyes darting around the empty foyer. “On your birthday, Miss Jennie?”

“Yeah. I know I’m supposed to be at the party, but it’s so suffocating there. I just want some fresh air.”

Joohyun pursed her lips before nodding. Sometimes guilt gnawed at Jennie’s heart for treating Joohyun like a pushover, but sometimes something told her that the older girl knew what she was doing, that she was smarter than what her maid persona made her out to be. “Alright. Make sure no one sees you, though.”

After jumping out her dress into warm clothes, Jennie raced out the door following Joohyun’s “okay” signal at the bottom of the staircase. The gust of cold air was rendered ineffective from the adrenaline pumping in Jennie’s veins as she blasted down the neighborhood slope, her eyes fixed straight ahead and a smile wide on her lips.

“Jisoo!” Jennie exclaimed at the sight of the older girl’s back by the pole of a street lamp. Jisoo turned around just in time for Jennie to crash into her arms, the attempt to halt to a stop failing from the momentum of her exhilaration.

“Woah, Jennie!” Jisoo laughed, steadying her. Jennie was breathless from her run, but Jisoo’s laugh was oxygen taken all in. “Slow down there. You might hurt yourself.”

“I’m so sorry! How long have you been waiting here? I know I’m late, don’t sugarcoat it.”

Although the bulb of the street lamp was dim, Jisoo's smile and upturned eyes were bright. She was wholly bright, glowing more like, as she slipped her hand into Jennie’s.

“I don’t have a watch, so I don’t know. But it didn’t feel long, so don’t worry.”

Jennie pouted with guilt. The redness of Jisoo’s nose and flushed cheeks told well about how long she’d been waiting out here in the cold. “It was an hour, by the way. I was an hour late.”

“That’s surprising. It didn’t feel like an hour. Don’t worry!” Jisoo reassured, bending down to pick up the weaved handle of a picnic basket. “You’re here now, so that’s all that matters.”

“What’s this?” Jennie asked, regarding the basket as Jisoo led her down the street.

“My present to you,” Jisoo chuckled sheepishly. “It’s no gold ring, but I’d figure you’d want to go outside after a party, so I thought a night picnic would help you. That doesn’t sound lame, I hope? I mean, it kind of is –”

“No.” Jennie interrupted her with a peck on the lips before she could start rambling. Thankfully they were relatively the same height because it made the kisses easier to give. “It doesn’t sound lame at all. It’s actually kind of romantic.”

Jisoo hiccuped, the moonlight accentuating the blush. “Really? That’s a relief. I spent all day making food. I’m not the best cook, though. Just a disclaimer.”

It wasn’t everyday that Jisoo was flustered. It was the perfect opportunity to for all the times she teased Jennie, but the girl was clearly nervous once they arrived at the park, and Jennie wasn’t that mean. Maybe for another time.

Jisoo opened the flap of the basket and took out a white sheet, gingerly spreading it out on the grass for them to sit on. She worked on arranging the tupperwares of food and snacks, her eyebrows drawn and pale lips a thin line in dedicated concentration. Her hands were turtled into her sleeves – tiny compared to the fluff of the coat – with only the fingers poking out to organize the things. Jisoo was discernibly cold, and the guilt of being late grew tenfold in Jennie’s chest.

“Have my scarf,” Jennie said.

“What?” Jisoo looked up as Jennie unwrapped her scarf. “Why?”

“You’re cold.” Jennie rolled her eyes, proceeding to scoot closer to wrap the scarf around Jisoo’s neck. “And don’t say otherwise. It’s pretty obvious.”

“But –”

A peck on the lips quieted her once again. Jennie couldn’t help but giggle at Jisoo’s flustered face.

“Are you –” Jisoo hiccuped. “Are you going to keep doing that whenever I don’t shut up?”

“Maybe.”

“Should I keep talking then?”

Jennie playfully slapped her arm. “Nice try. It won’t work if I know you’re doing it intentionally.”

Jisoo pouted, edging closer until their shoulders bumped. “How will you know I’m doing it intentionally or not?”

“Trust me, I’ll know. Like right now, you’re trying to get another kiss,” Jennie said matter of factly, teasingly leaning away from Jisoo as Jisoo leaned in. “What do you take me for, a kissing charity?”

“Yes?”

“No, I’m not a kissing charity. I’ll give out kisses when I see fit. Now show me your food!”

A little whine emitted from the older girl as she reached over to grab a tupperware. How endearingly childish. “This is some kimbap I made. Eat with caution.”

Jennie laughed and plucked a roll out the box. “How’d you get all these ingredients? I mean, your uncle wouldn’t have sponsored this.”
 

“I work – well, I tutor. It’s so easy to tutor. Just sit there and let them solve the problems by themselves, and then check if they did it right.”

“You tutor?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t even care about grades.”

“True, but it doesn’t mean I’m dumb. I just don’t like doing homework.”

“Reasonable.”

Jisoo regarded Jennie thoughtfully as she chewed on the food. Jennie’s eyebrows shot up, the kimbap tastier than anticipated. It wasn’t that Jennie thought Jisoo was a bad cook, but from the way Jisoo kept downplaying her skills, she’d expect it at least to be saltier than needed.

“Mmm! It’s good!”

“Really? You like it?”

“I do. Bad cook my . You’re good at everything.”

“I just never cooked before! I’m glad you like it. Also, I’m not good at math or –” She pouted in thought. “– riding a bike.”

Jennie’s lips tugged at Jisoo’s content smile as she set the tupperware aside and laid supine on the sheet. The night sky was beautiful. It was always beautiful, but tonight was extraordinarily beautiful, especially with the waxing crescent.

“Are you not going to eat the food?” Jisoo asked, laying beside her in the same manner.

“I am.” Jennie rolled on her side to face Jisoo who mirrored her, tucking her head under her arm. “I just want to look at you for a second.”

“That’s a bit too corny coming from you.”

“Shut up.”

“Does that deserve a kiss?”

“No,” Jennie laughed softly. “It would’ve, but I changed my mind just because you asked.”

“Shucks.”

Jennie had probably looked at Jisoo a thousand times – no, a million times. But each time never failed to take her breath away, the feeling on that fateful day under the library awning resonating ever so strongly; seeing Jisoo for the millionth time was seeing her for the first time. Her fingertip delicately traced from Jisoo’s forehead, down her nose bridge, and finally the shape of her lips that were soft to the touch. The girl was seemingly nervous from the way her parted lips produced the lightest of breaths that only indicated that her heart must be pounding. It must be pounding because Jennie’s was. Jennie’s heart was pounding so hard it was about to burst out her chest.

That was strangely reassuring. Jisoo was just as into Jennie as Jennie was into her. The question was, was she just as scared, too?

Jisoo’s gaze didn’t waver when Jennie took her hand, bringing it up to the space between them. Her fingertips pressed to Jisoo’s lightly – from the thumb to the pinky one at a time – touching ever so slightly, but touching all the same.

“Jisoo, be honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Are you scared?”

A pause. Jisoo’s eyes searched hers, trying to decipher the question. She would be disappointed because there was nothing to decipher. It was a straightforward question.

“What’s there to be scared of?”

“I don’t know.”

Jennie wanted to say that this was scary – that having Jisoo was scary – because once you had something, it was subject to be taken away.

“No. I’m not scared.”

“Why?”

“If you asked me if I’m scared of bugs, I’d say yes. But you don’t know. Should I be scared of something we don’t know?”

“Yes you should.”

Jisoo pressed her palm against Jennie’s, enclosing the gap of their fingertips. It was warm. “I’m still not scared.”

“Why?”

“Because you make me feel safe. With you, I’m never scared of anything.”
 

“Are you saying that to be corny?”

“I’m saying that because it’s true.”

Jennie gulped. “You’re putting a bit too much faith in me.”

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid I might disappoint you.”

Jisoo took Jennie’s palm and pressed it on her cheek. It was also warm. Everything about Jisoo was warm, but that was bad. That was bad news because Jisoo was a candle and candles were prone to being snuffed out with one simple blow.

And for it to take one simple blow meant ruining Jisoo was easy. It was so easy because she was delicate – even if she showed otherwise – because that was ridiculously easy to decipher. It was the first thing figured upon their first handshake, and confirmed on the rooftop of her house.

Jisoo was delicate, as susceptible as a wick in the wind.

And that was what made it all the scarier.

“That’s good.”

“Good?”

“Yes,” Jisoo smiled, “because I’ll be the verdict on whether you disappoint me or not. And I know with my whole heart that you won’t ever disappoint me. So don’t be afraid, Jennie, because it’s not going to happen. I promise.”

~

“... Ma Dong Seok, Lalisa Manoban, Min Hyo Rin, Moon Ga Young …”

Jennie’s hand was stiff from signing documents. The pile seemed neverending, the stack just as high as it was the weeks before, if not higher. What were all these documents for anyway? However, no amount of curiosity would make her read a word on these papers, so her hand continued signing away.

“.. Park Bo Gum, Park Bo Young, Park Hyung Sik, Park Seo Joon…”

Park? Jennie’s head perked up from resting on her palm at the name. “Are we at the Parks?”

“Yes,” Joohyun replied.

Jennie bit her lip. For some reason, her heart thumped with excitement at the mere name, but why? Why…

Ah. Park Chaeyoung.

Park Chaeyoung and the rest of Jisoo’s friends; Seulgi, was it? It was Seulgi, then Nayeon, then Yeri, Sooyoung, Seungwan…

Her heart thumped again, but with an impulsive thought. Her fingernail tapped the desk as her jaw shifted in contemplation.

Would it be weird to invite them? Probably.

Were they even friends? They only met once.

“What’s the matter, Miss Jennie?”

“Uh.” Jennie scratched her head. “Can you actually add a few more people on that list?”

“Okay. Who?”

Another rush of doubt rendered Jennie silent as Joohyun poised the pen over the paper, ready to write down the names. If I don’t even want Jisoo to come, who am I to invite her friends? Wouldn’t that be even more offensive?

“Miss Jennie?”

“Sorry, uhm.” Jennie furrowed her eyebrows. “I actually don’t know all their last names, but I know one of their names and their address. Park Chaeyoung, Seungwan, Sooyoung, Yeri, Nayeon, and Seulgi.”

Joohyun scratched her chin. “Since you don’t know all their addresses, would it be okay to send the invitations all to Park Chaeyoung’s address?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.”

“Who are they, if you don’t mind me asking? Actresses?”

Jennie hesitated before uttering, “People I know.”

“Okay,” Joohyun gave a knowing nod. The girl never pried and that was appreciated. “Is that all? Shall we continue?”

“Yeah, that’s all.”

As Joohyun returned to listing the guests, Jennie’s eyes wandered to the window. The snow had long melted, uncovering the unsaturated greens of the trees and garden and dull sky. The world was seeped of its natural colors and the depression was all the more obtrusive, if that was even possible.

And a sinking feeling told her that this time, it was going to last forever.

~

For the first time in a long time, Jennie was happy.

Maybe spring was really a season of new beginnings.

After a grueling day of studying (that wasn’t as productive as it should’ve been because Jisoo was distracting), Jennie slipped through the front door just as the sun set. Usually, she was met by the silence of an alienated mansion, but there was nothing silent about Joohyun grabbing her wrist and dragging her into the kitchen urgently.

“What’s wrong?” Jennie asked after the shock subsided. The older girl had never been this agitated, and the fearful expression wasn’t commonplace. Joohyun scanned the area – waving away one of the maids near the cupboards who complied without question – before dipping her chin.

“Did anyone see you?”

“What do you mean?”

“On that night of your birthday. Did anyone see you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Jennie hesitated. “I’m not sure. You’re making me nervous, Joohyun.”

Joohyun pursed her lips. “Miss Jennie, I think someone saw you.”

Her heart plummeted. “What?”

“The chauffeur, Mister Jo. He saw you. I heard it through Mister Kim’s office door. They were talking, and he saw you leave the party and he followed you and he took pictures. And he saw something Mister Kim didn’t like.”

The kitchen was spinning, the vertigo crashing until Jennie’s spine jabbed into the edge of the kitchen counter. Her knees buckled subsequently, the cabinet’s wood jarring against her back as it slid down. It wasn’t until Joohyun knelt down and placed a gentle palm on Jennie’s chest that the ringing was overpowered by her erratic breaths.

“What now?” whispered Jennie.

Joohyun gulped. For however long Jennie had known Joohyun, the girl was someone who knew all the answers, someone ridiculously wise beyond her years. It was wondrous why she was a maid instead of something bigger, like getting an education in college. But for the first time, she looked uncertain.

“Brace yourself,” was all she could say.

A note was tacked on Jennie’s bedroom door. Joohyun ripped it off, probably to prevent Jennie from seeing the impending message and reiterate it with more gentleness, but it wasn’t hard to misread two words:

My office.

The mansion was silent, its tight walls making the silence all the more suffocating. Jennie’s breaths echoed with each step toward the office, the thumps of her heart against her rib cage so painful that not even Joohyun’s occasional hand squeezes could help it. Upon the front of the office door with light seeping through the cracks, Jennie froze.

Should she just run away? Far from this mansion, far from her father? What would she do, where would she go? To Jisoo? No, he had pictures and this was Jennie’s fault; Jisoo was in danger and it had to be fixed. Running away would be cowardly, but what was she if not a coward? She was a coward, Jisoo’s fate the only thing keeping her feet planted in front of doom.

That was the most cowardly act of all.

“Breathe,” was Joohyun’s last message before Jennie stepped through the door.

The office was scentless, save for the poignant smell of papers. Papers, papers, papers – be it the documents stacked on the desk, the books lined on the shelves, or the certificates tacked on the walls. Every inch of Jennie hated this place because nothing good ever came out of it, and tonight was no exception.

Her father’s back was large and lean, his suit neat and as black as the night sky through the arched window.

“Father,” Jennie said.

The moment of silence only added to the heavy tension. Jennie exhaled unsteadily before calling him again.

“Father –”

“Where did you go today?”

Jennie bit her lip. “I was studying.”

“Where?”

“The library.”

“With who?”

She swallowed thickly. He was purposely tormenting her; he already won the game and he was dragging out the victory. There was no use beating around the bush, but nothing could bring her to admit it.

“A friend.”

“A friend?”

“Y – yes.”

His face was absent of remorse when he turned around. It was hard to read him – either that, or Jennie’s eyes couldn’t bring themselves to make eye contact – but there was no need to read when the photos tossed over the desk said it all as they scattered in front of Jennie’s feet.

“Friend?”

Jennie’s breathing stopped altogether. It was them – Jennie and Jisoo – shot from the back – hugging, kissing, holding hands, laying down – all the moments that were meant to be private and intimate laid splayed on the floor for anyone to see. Anger wrenched her chest, but what was she angry about? Mister Jo, who deliberately took these? No, he was just doing his job. Why did it take him this long to hand over the pictures anyway? It was her fault for being careless, her fault for ruining things.

The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the best thing in her life.

But even that couldn’t escape her curse.

“Explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain.”

After a pause, he walked around the desk and the soles of his leather shoes crushed the photos once they stopped in front of Jennie. It petrified her, and her eyes couldn’t look anywhere else but that damned sleek black.

“Correct. The pictures explain it all. You’ve been sneaking out to see this – person, committing sins beyond comprehension, risking tarnishing our family, and disobeying me. Did you think you can do as you please?”

Jennie remained mum as he picked up one of the photos, chuckling darkly. “She looks around your age, a high schooler. Do you know how easy it is to find her? With the amount of high schools in this city?”

He didn’t wait for a response. “It’s easy, Jennie. It’s really easy. That’s what wealth gets you; power. With the snap of my fingers I can,” he held the photo at her eye level, pinching both corners, “ruin her,” the tear was piercing, every crack sharp in her chest as it ran down the middle – ripping Jennie and Jisoo apart, “just like that.”

The pieces fluttered to the floor. The pounds intensified. Everything was pounding – from her entire body to this mansion. The pounds threatened to sweep her off her feet, to force her on her knees to beg for forgiveness, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t when her body was numb and her eyes could only focus on the ripped half of Jisoo and her captured smile.

“I’ll give you one last chance, Jennie. Get rid of her by tomorrow.”

Thump, thump, thump.

“Understand? Get rid of her and do your duty.”

He picked up the ripped half, her eyes unable to do anything but follow until they met his eyes. With one last beat, he crushed Jisoo under his fist, the crumpling sound a gavel that concluded the verdict.

“Get rid of her, or I’ll do it myself.”

And all was silent.

~

The world was gray. Gray, sick, and dying. The snow had ceased and melted away, only to reveal a disease. Could it be the symptoms of winter? It must be contagious because it infected Jisoo, too. She was gray, sick, and dying, the journal clutched to her chest the only thing keeping her alive as she laid on her deathbed in her bedroom.

“Jisoo, you have to eat,” Chaeyoung sighed, sat on a stool on her bedside with a bowl of porridge. “At least eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Not hungry my . You’re so thin and pale. Eat. You’re going to die at this rate, and you’re not dying on my watch.”

“Chaeyoung, stop.”

“No,” Chaeyoung huffed, exasperated, and set the bowl down on the nightstand. “How can I stop when you’re practically killing yourself? You haven’t gotten out of bed for the past week or ate. Have you even showered? All you do is lay and hug that journal. You haven’t even spoken to me. How can you tell me to stop?”

Jisoo’s eyes flitted from the ceiling to Chaeyoung’s distressed face, her eyebrows furrowed and nose flared. “When you put it that way, I feel terrible.”

Chaeyoung heaved a sigh. “Jisoo, talk to me.”

“I’m done.”

“Done with what?”

“The biography.”

Chaeyoung’s face softened, replaced by the next worst thing – pity. Maybe Jisoo shouldn’t have said anything and kept her distraught instead.

“So, what now?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“Does Jennie know it’s done?”

“No.”

“When will you tell her?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I want to tell her.”

“You’ll have to. It’s –”

“Inevitable, I know. I know, Chaeyoung. It doesn’t make it any less hard; quite the opposite, actually. And I’m stupid for not telling her on our last appointment because I know I was too scared to face it.”

A pause.

“When’s your next appointment?”

“What day is it?”

“The twenty-first.”

“In two days.”

“Will you tell her then?”

“I think I have to.”

And that’ll mean I won’t see her again.

Chaeyoung squeezed Jisoo’s arm lightly. It didn’t ease the sickness, but it was reassuring at least. “You can do it.”

I can’t, Jisoo wanted to say, but it was useless to keep saying so. Chaeyoung was persistent, the type of person that won’t leave someone alone until they feel better, so Jisoo strained a smile instead. “Thanks, Chaeng.”

“Will you eat the porridge now?”

“Yes.”

~

The trees were gray. The grass was gray. The sky was gray. Jennie was gray, her fair skin pale with the palette and brown eyes transparent of its warm hue. Dead was an understatement because the girl resembled more of an empty shell – cursed to continue living on this earth when there was nothing to live for. Through and through, Jennie and Jisoo were two sides of the same coin; ironically amusing, tragically sad.

There was no telling how much time had passed since they’d stood underneath the park’s tree, facing each other in silence. The bench laid beside them, but neither made a move to take a seat. Did Jennie know? Could she sense it? The beginning of the end? Jisoo tugged at the strap of her satchel, picking at the leather.

“Jennie, how are you?”

“Could be better.”

“That’s fair.”

Jennie was looking at her, but rather than locking gazes, Jisoo’s eyes trained on her button nose almost hidden under the scarf. It shouldn’t take this long – that’s why there was no reason to sit and settle – but it was sure difficult. Was that how Jennie sensed something was amiss? That they weren’t sitting? That Jisoo wasn’t asking any questions and simply saying nothing? Or perhaps it was none and it was all Jisoo who spoiled it. It wouldn’t be the first time Jennie read right through her.

That only meant there was no going back, no turning back the clocks, no nothing. After avoiding it for months, the inevitable stood right in front of Jisoo – and she was scared.

Absolutely scared.

“Jennie,” Jisoo said. “It’s done.”

“Done?”

“The biography. We’re done.”

There was no reaction, not even a blink. Jennie was completely void of expression. She probably knew the end was near, and the guilt only grew for not saying it sooner. It was killing her like how it was killing Jisoo – slowly and painfully – as the days counted down to this very moment.

“So,” Jisoo continued carefully, “that means I don’t have any more questions. So, that means this is our last appointment. And – and that means…”

We won’t be seeing each other anymore.

She didn’t have to say it. Jennie perfectly understood from the way her head subtly nodded. The inability to read her only fed the fear, her lack of response even scarier.

“Do you have any questions or concerns?” Jisoo croaked. “Before we – part.”

Say something. Please.

Jennie’s gaze dropped to the ground. Jisoo bit the inside of her cheek – so hard blood drew, the iron bitter. Every second that silently passed was harrowing, the anticipation for the girl to say something – anything – only built upon the anxiety. Patience for Jennie would’ve been tolerable any other time, but this time was not any other time.

Because this time, there wouldn’t be anymore other times.

“Jennie –”

“Can I hold you? Once more?”

Jisoo’s breath hitched, the request taking her aback, surreal in her ears. But Jennie was sincere, her eyes frank – the most they had ever shown today. It wouldn’t be smart. She shouldn’t succumb because it’d only make it harder than it already was.

But fighting it was a lot harder. It was a losing battle and she had lost.

Jennie was warm, contrary to winter’s disease. For a split, feverish second, nature was green as Jisoo sank into Jennie’s arms draped around her shoulders, her own arms couldn’t help but to wrap around the girl’s waist to encase more of the warmth – more of her.

But it took every fiber in Jisoo’s body to not hold Jennie close, to hold her as if they were crashing and burning and she was the only solace, to hold her so tight that their pounding hearts melded and all there was left to breathe was her, to hold her like nothing else mattered in the world because nothing else did matter. Only Jennie mattered, so she settled for a pat on her back; one pat, two pats. The third came hesitant when Jennie murmured something in her ear – muffled by the ringing in her head.

“Walk away now.”

Her hand hovered, frozen over the small of Jennie’s shaking back. Her feet were heavy, excruciatingly heavy – rooted into the earth a hundred feet deep with her heart that plunged into the same cavity.

No, don’t let me.

“Jisoo, walk away.”

No, don’t. Don’t.

“Walk away. It’s okay.”

Circles, circles, circles; around and around and around. The world was spinning, the park distorted in its haze. It was nauseating, so Jisoo dropped her forehead on Jennie’s shoulder, biting her lip to stifle the sobs. She couldn’t cry – she couldn’t. She couldn’t because if she did, they’d fall right off the edge into the abyss. Holding it together was a must; at least for now, at least for Jennie.

“Jennie –”

“Jisoo.”

The plea – a broken, languid plea that was barely above a whisper – to unlock them only locked them tighter. Jennie’s breath was unsteady, gentle, and frail – a poor attempt of staying calm, and ultimately failing because her trembling body said it all. Reading Jennie’s body always came easy, but this was one of the very few times that it would’ve been a bliss if it wasn’t so – a beautiful, ignorant bliss – because Jisoo was cracking and holding it together was as good as holding sand in her fingers.

“Don’t –” Jisoo breathed, her voice breaking as she bit back another sob – futile because it escaped her lips anyway. “Don’t let me lose you now.”

Silence.

“Walk away now, or else we might not be able to let each other go.”

Smoke.

Smoke was everywhere.

They crashed and burned and everything was smoke. Inhaling, exhaling, simply breathing hurt. Breathing in Jennie hurt – her rich fragrant, her eyes, nose, lips, her silky hair – everything that was her. It hurt so much, it hurt so bad, but Jisoo breathed in all of her anyway – even when her chest caved and her lungs burned and she was suffocating because there was no other way to live if it wasn’t in this agony.

The third pat came, lingering on the spot between the girl’s trembling shoulder blades before her arms slipped off and the abyss swallowed them whole. The tiny fists clenching her coat loosened and fell as Jisoo’s head heaved itself off Jennie. Her eyes were downcasted and Jisoo could only swallow thickly before concluding the end.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, and you’ll receive the first copy of your biography once it’s finished. Goodbye, Jennie.”

I don’t want to forget you.

Miraculously, her legs worked. Jisoo turned around, an anguish breath mystifying in the winter air, and heaved one step – then, two steps – then, three. It was unknown whether Jennie had said anything, or moved at all, but nothing really could be heard save for the cracks of her heart and pounding in her head.

But I’ll forget you.

The world was a stronger grayscale, the winter disease worsening and eating away at Jisoo by the second. Every step staggered, her mind blank of any particular destination, but her eyes looked straight ahead. Never back, never again.

I can forget you.

I’ll forget you, Jennie.

Because it’ll hurt less than to blame you.