If you’re expecting a love story, you’re going to be disappointed. This is neither about love nor it is a story worth telling. There won’t be kisses in the rain, handholding on the beach, or would there ever be a moment of locking eyes that is so intense they would be slow motioned in movies. Because this is my story and it’s a tragedy.

Again, be warned, it’s not a love story and I’m not a good storyteller.

Let see, where should I start?

I think we should begin with the reunion with my ex, Park Chanyeol. But before I tell you more, there are three things you need to know.

First, yes, we’re talking about the one and only Park Chanyeol, the world-famous actor and director, Korea’s pride and treasure.

Second, yes, he was my boyfriend until he found out I betrayed him and kicked me out with nothing but a half-empty suitcase. However, for his defense, that was all I owned.

And third, no, I’m not telling you how we met, how we fall in love, and how we broke up… not yet, because this is not a love story, remember?

This is a story about how I ed up my life. That’s why this is the best moment to start my story because all I could think of at that moment was “!”, “!” and “!”.

Go ahead and judge me for my nasty way of talking. That will be the least disgusting thing about me, once you get to know me. But you would have thought the same if you were me, standing in front of your ex, the one you have wronged in any way, not being able to move or even just to talk. All it took was one second, from the moment I recognized him to the moment I felt tears building up in my eyes. One move and I’d cry in front of him. I’d rather die than let that happen.

“Miss?” The woman next to him called for me once again, but I was paralyzed. I couldn’t see myself. Still, I knew I looked pathetic. This is not how anyone wants to be seen by their exes, believe me.

“Miss? The press conference will be in the next room. You can’t be here.” The woman repeated politely.

“I’m not a journalist.” That was a simple answer, but I couldn’t open my mouth. I hoped he couldn’t see it… how much I was trembling.

“You don’t have a camera. Are you not a journalist?” I could hear the woman speaking to me, but I wasn’t really listening. She was like some white noises to me. All I heard at that moment was Chanyeol, even though he didn’t say a word. All he did was staring at me and his eyes were louder than she could ever be.

“Are you a fan of Chanyeol? I’m sorry but fans are not allowed backstage.” She asked for she must have noticed my focus on her colleague.

“She is not a fan.” Chanyeol voice went through my body like an electric shock, making my flesh crawled. This was the first thing he said to me after our breakup. It has been over 3 months, and this wasn’t how I have imagined our reunion to be. To be fair, I haven’t imagined anything at all for I haven’t expected to ever see him again.

“Is she a stalker?” The woman exclaimed so loud I couldn’t help but finally noticed her. I mean I had registered her present, but I haven’t looked at her probably. Well now I have, and it didn’t take long for me to recognize her. I knew I’ve seen her before, and I knew she was famous, but I couldn’t remember her name. Lee something? Ah, I have never been good with names.

Whatever! Where were we?

Oh right, I was telling you about the disaster reunion with my ex and how it looked like I just got caught stalking him. Being eaten alive by a dinosaur might be less painful.

Of course, I told myself to run.

“Run as fast as you can, idiot.”

But my legs wouldn’t move. Someone once told me when we get stuck in danger the fight-or-flight response would take over our bodies. The scientists must have missed people like me, people who choose the third option, the “I’ll freeze and wait to be eaten alive” option.

I was in a hopeless situation, but for my luck, the door flung open and Mrs. Song leaned her head in to take a better look at the room like she was checking on something.

“Here you are,” she said, rushing in and grabbed my wrist. She was about to drag me out of this mess, and I was ready for it.

“I have been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing here?” She nagged at me for it was my fault. I was supposed to meet her at the backdoor 10 minutes ago, but it was so cold outside, and the door was open, so I thought I could wait inside. Bad idea.

“Excuse me? Who is this?” Miss Lee asked, referring to me.

“You haven’t introduced yourself?” Mrs. Song turned to me, lowering her voice like the other wouldn’t be able to hear her.

I shook my head, and I’m not sure what it was that made her talk for me. Maybe I looked lost, maybe she thought she should introduce me since she was my boss. Maybe it was just her character. I’ve never found out, but from that day on, I never complain about her mothering me again.

“This is Kang Juna. She’ll be your stuntwoman.” That was what she said to the actress, who immediately faked a smile and apologized to me. Sometimes I wondered how she made it to be so famous when her acting skill was so poor. Then again, talent doesn’t really matter in show business because in the first place you need to look gorgeous.

That was it, the reunion with my ex. Mrs. Song dragged me out of the room right after the awkward small talk Miss Lee tried to start since that room was “out of my league”. Second class workers like me don’t get private waiting rooms like the stars. Mrs. Song said, she would only explain to me once, so I must get it in my head right away.

“We’re not in the same world as them. Know your place. Don’t cross the line or you’ll get yourself into trouble.”

I wish she could have told me that last year before I crossed that line.

Now, after that catastrophe, I should quit the job, shouldn’t I? And yet what was I doing? Just hours after the press conference, sitting at the same table as Chanyeol and other 20 co-workers, celebrating the start of our new drama while trying not to have a panic attack?

The answer is simple. Money.

Don’t judge me yet. Dignity is a luxury you can’t afford when you’re broke to the point… to my point.

So, yes, I was sitting there because it was warm and there was a free meal. I was not rejecting the only job that could keep me from starving. I thought I’d just figure out how to avoid Chanyeol on the set later.

The worst part of that night started as the girls insisted on knowing whether Chanyeol really dated that young CEO last year. The rumors were all over the news when all that happened was Chanyeol sharing an umbrella with her, bringing her to her car. I was mad at first, but I couldn’t blame the press. They looked really good together. What kind of human is so smart to become self-made CEO at 24 and at the same time looks so nice people could mistake her for an idol? Meanwhile, I look like a piece of chewed gum, trying to live from day to day.

“No, that was really a rumor,” he denied as expected.

“I dated someone else,” but then, he added, causing everyone to drop their jaws. Why did he do it? He could have gotten away with the first answer.

Maybe he wanted to hurt me. Maybe it was his revenge.

“Is she also someone famous?” The director asked. Even he was curious now.

“No,” Chanyeol’s response once again made the women growled in disappointment as if they weren’t married and could have dated the Park Chanyeol.

“What a lucky girl.” They murmured to themselves like they were a bunch of high school girls gossiping.

“Did you break up with her?” Someone asked.

Yes, he did.

“Of course, he did. What sane woman would break up with Park Chanyeol?” Another woman answered for Chanyeol. Why were they even asking when they don’t even give him the chance to answer? Those women were freaking me out. Who did they think they are to discuss our relationship?

“Who knows? Some people are insane.” The first woman argued.

Yes, I’m insane. Mind your own business, ing .

“The poor girl, she must have been very sad.” The other bitc… woman said.

“I don’t think so,” Chanyeol finally interrupted them.

I didn’t raise my head, but I could feel his stare on me. My body was trembling and suddenly I tasted blood. I hadn’t noticed how hard I bit on my lip until it bled.

“She never loved me anyway,” he said.

.

.

.

That was more than I could bear.

Thank god, my body moved on its own this time for my mind was blank. The next thing I knew I was crying in a dirty, dark alley behind the restaurant. It was snowing and the wind was so strong you could hear it. Without my coat, I was shaking, but the thought of going inside broke me down in tears one more. I cried like a baby. The sobbing was so uncontrollable that I couldn’t breathe.

And yet, I held my breath as I saw Chanyeol walking towards me. My sight might be blurred, but I would always recognize his silhouette. I tried to act strong, but as pathetic as I was, I couldn’t. Looking at the ground, I could see his shoes as he stood right in front of me, barely one step away. I feel his breath on my hair. I’m not short, you know? This man was just too tall, and I love it. I love to know I just need to lean in a little bit, and I will be able to hear his heartbeat. When we were together, I loved to lay my head on his chest and listened to his heart. It calmed me down. Yet now it scares me to be next to him, and he was way too close.

He wiped away the tears on my face. Like a reflex, I tilted my head, closed my eyes, and rubbed my face against his palm. He was so warm and so gentle. For a second, I forgot how much he must hate me. For a second, I didn’t feel the cold.

“You were wrong, you know?” I said, fighting the tears, “I loved you and I still do.”

I opened my eyes as he didn’t respond. A sad smile had appeared on his face. He looked just as heartbroken as the moment he realized I had betrayed him.

“It’s not fair that you’re just a stuntwoman. You really deserve to be famous,” he said, and my heart dropped as he bowed down, whispering in my ear.

“Your acting skill is incredible.”

My chest cramped. The tightness was so painful I thought I would pass out every moment. But I didn’t. Don’t expect me to fall into his arms. Don’t expect him to catch me before I hit the ground. Don’t expect him to carry me inside, taking care of me, leaning his head on my bed, waiting for me to wake up just to tell me he loved me too. Don’t expect a love story because this isn’t.

This isn’t fiction.

You know it’s reality because it hurts.