The countless times where Soyeon ignored her long-time girlfriend, Yuqi forgave her, including the several slip-ups with regards to the former forgetting dates that mattered to Yuqi the most. She’s a hopeless romantic, after all. The little things and sweet, cheesy actions were the ways to swoon Yuqi and make her feel loved, needed, and acknowledged. Call it delusional, immature, over-the-top expectations, or idealistic, she doesn’t care. She knew she deserves it.

Soyeon gave her those, made her feel like the most important person in her life, and gave her the attention Yuqi craved and wanted the most. She never missed a beat. She treated Yuqi the way she treated her music: her utmost priority, or maybe even more. Yuqi became her muse, her world, her everything; she practically needed her to be by her side to stand courageously against the currents of the pressure the world had been giving them. She was her rock, and Yuqi never once failed to give her strength.

However, Soyeon was also easily consumed, and Yuqi knew it very well. From the times Soyeon would choose the comfort of her studio than what her arms could provide when the latter seemed to be carrying the world in her shoulders, or the times Soyeon ‘accidentally’ forgets their monthsary because she was too occupied creating songs (songs that were mostly dedicated for Yuqi, as she had mentioned before, which made Yuqi, as the hopeless romantic she was, easily flattered, forgiving her in just a matter of seconds), or the several times Soyeon would inevitably neglect her needs to finish her work so she could spend more time with Yuqi—a promise that was rarely ever fulfilled.

Yuqi tried her best to be the understanding girlfriend she was, knowing how responsible and dutiful Soyeon, she knew better than to be a distraction to her. But she also knew when she’s had enough, and when she’s clearly being taken for granted. She did her best to fix it, talk it out to Soyeon and explain her feelings. The latter, at first, immediately considered and made several adjustments for Yuqi. Soyeon felt guilty for making her lover insecure and anxious. However, those precious moments were quickly robbed once again just a few weeks later. Yuqi was upset, but she understood. She tried to, at least. She doesn’t have much choice, does she?

The vicious cycle continued, where Yuqi would calmly tell Soyeon her feelings, explain to her that she felt being a second priority in Soyeon’s life. She understood that work comes first for Soyeon, and it was normal, really. But being always the second option, the difficult choice, the other consideration when work seems to be okay, was a different matter. And it all went down when one day, in Soyeon’s studio, Yuqi had to remind Soyeon again that she exists, and that she was her girlfriend, and she’s tired of doing this stuff all over again with her because frankly, nothing really changed aside from a week or so of adjustment in Soyeon’s part.

“You’re so needy, Yuqi-yah.”

It was a joke. It was supposed to be.

But it was the last straw in Yuqi’s sanity to further stretch her weary patience, and she knew at that moment, she exploded.

Yuqi was never a fan of shouting, of curses, of unending and repeated rants that seem to evaporate into nonsense eventually when said more than ten minutes. But there she was, spitting fire out to Soyeon with exaggerated gestures, hoping that the loudness of her voice or the extremeness of her motions finally shook the older girl of her existence, of her girlfriend’s existence.

Soyeon was taken aback, that was clear from the way she froze at her seat. But much to Yuqi’s dismay and confusion, Soyeon smiled at her. Yuqi wasn’t able to wrap her head around her reaction, because why on earth a person would smile after letting out her pent-up feelings and sufferings? Was she a joke to her?

“You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

And with that said, Yuqi stormed off Soyeon’s studio, aggressively wiping the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she stomped her feet at the empty hall. She heard her name, yes. But she never felt any other movements, not even an arm that was supposed to wrap her waist to give her assurance, or that soft breath in her that only spoke of words of love and encouragement. She slowed down a bit in hopes of something. But there were none, not even one, and frankly, it wasn’t the first time. She walked further down the hall and never looked back. Not like there was even something to look back to, after all.

Yuqi was having a blast with her best friend, Lucas at the club. She missed him dearly, and she was completely