She runs. Runs and runs until she’s out of breath and out of her bearings.

She runs the way one does when they’re trying to get away from something – desperate, fast, and with reckless regard for anything and anyone around her.

She shouldn’t be doing this really. Tomorrow is a busy day for her, and she is very much aware of it. Not less than 12 hours of filming, coupled with a rehearsal run for the next comeback performance – she’ll be regretting this in the morning. Still, she soldiers on and ingratiates into her mind that she needs this. Needs this release for all the frustration, anger, and altogether pent up feelings that have been stirring within her.

She stops next to a bench across the river, sweat dripping down her forehead and wipes it with her equally sweat-ridden forearm. Of little use she realises, but it’s an action that makes her feel as though she has ran a lot and has worn herself out physically, so it satisfies her. Satisfies the hunger for endorphins running through her veins, satisfies her as a momentary distraction from the very thing she has been running away from. Anything to take her mind off of… her.

The her who is her best friend of a decade, the her with whom she has been desperately in love with for the better part of said decade, and the her, who just a mere few hours ago had told her,

“Unnie, I’ve found someone I like.”

­Her knees give way and she falls onto them, letting her body crumble just as much as her mind has in the last few hours.

She checks her watch and reads 10:39PM, thankful that in this park, in this footpath, in the darkness of the night, the universe has at least given her the solitude she so thoroughly needs to ponder the words that she so regretfully heard.

She wants to… breakdown? Cry? Lash out and get angry? She’s not even really sure.

She rarely ever has these surge of emotions, and she supposes she doesn’t have the right to anyhow. It was a mistake anyway, falling for her best friend. In this industry, in this society, in this world they live in. She knows this – knew this the moment she understood her feelings to be more than just of admiration and protection. She just wonders why she couldn’t do anything about it years ago and still, in this moment, could not do anything if merely to stop herself from hurting any further.

She feels her chest getting heavier albeit her heaving is slowing, and as she’s close to catching her breath she becomes mindful of how rough the asphalt is on her calves. Yet another unnecessary pain she’s subjected herself voluntarily to. God, she really needs to stop doing this.

As she makes a motion to get up, right foot getting ready to bolster her body upright, she thinks about running again. She supposes she’ll keep doing this until whenever – hopes she can run the feelings out of her system. As though her emotions of almost 10 years were akin to a crumpled piece of paper she could just sneakily litter in this park while she goes as fast as her body lets her. being busy tomorrow – she has little emotional capacity to let these feelings linger ‘til then. She decides she needs to rid them from herself tonight, in this empty park. The only park she hasn’t really been to with her. In this park with no memories, she resolves herself into a fresh start.

She’s standing now, bent over to dust the cement off her calves and knees when the bright white light of a phone beams onto the path in front of her.

She hears a voice, barely audible, but clearly struck with fear and worry, and almost shaken.

“Unnie…”

And she stills.