The room spun around as the constant throb of her heartbeat drummed in her ears. The walls were closing in as she hobbled towards the coat rack, her hands grasping for anything sturdy enough to keep her legs from collapsing. Her feet had turned to concrete bricks above the wooden floorboards, both of them adamant to keep her from leaving. Yet still, she pressed on. With short unsteady breaths that clung to , she made her way towards the dining table to grab her wallet and keys, shoving them into the pocket of her red coat. Fifteen minutes. Thirty if the morning traffic finds her. She’d have to run the rest of the way in her slippers. No time to change, no time to think. She opened the door and strode out along the hall and down the steps to the lobby. Halfway there, she suddenly remembered the lock on her door, but by then she couldn’t care any less. They’re free to take everything.

The lights mounted on the walls of the lobby were barely visible. Like candles in a dungeon, their faded glow flickering in and out of focus as she trudged above the carpeted floor. Before she could reach the double-doors of the entrance, Momo squinted at the light outside and saw a familiar face walking towards her.

“...Mina?”

“Christ, thank god I got here on time.” Mina stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Nayeon told me everything earlier,” she said solemnly. “She told me to come here. Keep an eye on you for a while.”

“No, I have to-...I have to go there.” She broke away from her. “Mina, he’s...he’s blackmailing her. He’s threatening her; we have to call the police. We have to call the authorities.”

Mina’s brows furrowed as she stared at her for a while. She recognized this look. It was the same one she gave her that night at the ball when she caught her crying. “The authorities? Momo they’d all been leeching off from that bastard ever since he first stepped into his position. Hell, most of them got their damn jobs because of him and you really think they’d arrest him that easily?”

“But this is clearly extortion! He’s threatening to-”

“Yeah I know, Momo. I know. As I said, Nayeon already told me everything. But you have to understand; this is far from a simple report-and-arrest case. It’s not that simple.”

Nothing ever was.

Mina took one big breath to calm herself. “If this was any other guy not involved in ty politics, then believe me, I’d have stormed in there already and made the arrest myself. But as it stands, we’re dealing with a monkey seated high in power along with his merry band of crooks in disguise. The second he sees us there, it’s over. For all of us.”

“Then I’ll go alone. I don’t need your help,” Momo stammered as she tried to walk past.

Mina caught her by the arm and held her in place, to which she offered a weak protest as her head continued to spin. “You know very well that that’s a stupid idea, Momo. Let's go back to your place and-”

“Stupid? Stupid?! You came here to stop me from helping Nayeon - your own friend - who’s being threatened by that psycho instead of calling for help, and you’re telling me it’s stupid to go there?” She scoffed.

Mina narrowed her steely gaze as her grip slowly eased off. “Then let me ask you, what exactly are you going to do once you get there, hm?”

Momo opened but no answer would come.

“What? Tell him to off and kick him in the nuts? Grab Nayeon’s hand and run off into the sunset?”

She looked away in frustration. The answer was neither a ‘yes’ nor a ‘no’. Not even a half-hearted ‘maybe’.

“You think he’s just going to let you waltz in there and take his wife-to-be?” Mina crossed her arms. “Don’t you think Nayeon would’ve left him there already if it was that simple?”

Silence.

“You’re free to go there, but what are you going to do?”

“...I don’t know,” she whimpered and bowed her head as the tears resurfaced. Her knees shook once more so she had to lean over to Mina to steady herself. “I don’t know…”

Mina wrapped her arms around her. “I wish it was that simple, Momo. I honestly thought it would be when she told me about her plan yesterday. I thought this would be it.”

“...What do I do? I can’t...there has to be something we can do. Anything.”

She felt Mina’s arms tighten around her. “...Can we talk upstairs?” Her tone told her everything she needed to know. Everything she didn’t want to hear. Everything that had been decided before any words even came out.

When they got back up to her room, Mina took Momo to the couch then made her way over to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. Momo drank half before putting it down the coffee table. She glanced over to Mina who was staring fixedly at the floor, her brows creased as she chewed on her lip. The ticking of the wall clock filled the room along with the occasional blares of car horns from the distance. She didn’t know what time it was. She didn’t care. Nothing else mattered now and she felt every ounce of energy recede from her body as if slowly shutting down.

“There’s not much we can do,” Mina started, her eyes still fixed on the floor. “We talked about going to court with this but with his greasy friends over there winking at him, he’ll barely get a scratch even if we win. And for an extortion charge without any serious loss incurred by the victim, they’ll most likely just give him probation for a year plus fines. With his connections, those twelve months can magically become six.” She took out a stick and lit one, drawing it in before continuing. “Any case we make against him needs to be a hundred-percent bulletproof. We need to make it so that not even his friends up there can save him.”

Momo breathed in deep. “Alright, so what should I do?”

Mina looked at her then, looking a bit surprised. “You- No, Momo, you can’t be involved with this you-”

“Why the hell not?! I’m already neck-deep involved in this and this concerns me as much as it concerns Nayeon so-”

“You’re the reason she’s in this in the first place!” Mina raised her voice, the edge in her tone catching Momo off-guard. Mina glued her eyes shut as she tried to calm down. “Look, I’m not saying this to go against you guys, but if you get involved any more than you have to right now, you’ll just be piling up more risks. We’re all on paper-thin ice right now. We can’t afford to mess anything up.”

Momo shrunk against the cushion. “...I want to help her, Mina. And you’re right. This whole thing is because of me. But that’s exactly why I want to help. This is our fight. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

Mina gave her a weak smile. “I know. I get that. I really do. But if you really want to help her then…” She pursed her lips together and looked away, the creases on her brows deepening as the pause lingered on.

“...What?”

“As it is, he’s using you against her, Momo. You’re his strongest weapon. He knows Nayeon won’t be able to do anything as long as he knows where you are. And there’s a high chance he already knows your address. As long as you stay here, he’ll use that to his advantage.”

It never clicked until now. And it came to her like a second reading of a rejection letter when the initial shock wears off and you’re left reading the words again slowly, piecing together the immediate reality of a nightmare she refused to see.

“...Do you see where I’m going with this, Momo?” Mina asked but her voice was muffled now as it came to her ears. “I know full well this isn’t easy. You have your job, your friends, your life here. And it’s completely unfair that you have to go through this. Although he’s usually not the type to do anything reckless, I can’t guarantee he won’t do anything if he finds out you’re still involved with Nayeon.”

“...You’re saying I should move out?”

The pause answered her question. “I’m not saying you should. I’m saying it’ll help. Look, I know moving out is a bit too extreme, but if we’re up against someone in a high seat who has all sorts of people in his pockets, I don’t think we should take him lightly either,” Mina explained.

Momo stared blankly at the wall as she tried to process what was happening. She couldn’t care less about the apartment. She would’ve moved out to a different one sooner or later. What bothered her deeply more than anything else, was the fact that this was her only option. To run away because she was the one who posed the highest risk in all of this. To accept everything and move away as if equating it to moving on. Cut all her ties with Nayeon and move out. How simple, she thought. In other words, they want her to drop dead and disappear off the face of the earth.

“That’s it?” Momo scoffed. “That’s your plan? To give him everything he wants? To let him win?”

Mina drew in her cigarette. “As I said, we’re planning to bring this to court. We need enough incriminating evidence and all the dirt we can find on him if we want to put him out for good. But for that to work, he needs to lose his leverage against Nayeon. If he doesn’t know where to find you and he doesn’t suspect you guys are still in contact, we’ll be free to hire a P.I. for help.”

“How long will that take?”

Mina pursed her lips as she reclined onto the couch. “...I don’t know,” she whispered.

“You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know?”
 

“With the amount of people he has in his pockets, gathering info on him won’t be easy. Any dirt he has lying around would be buried deep and-”

“Mina, how long do I have to wait?”

“...A year. At least.”

Her heart stopped for the second time that day. The ‘at least’ in the end drove the nails to her coffin. A year, she repeated in her head. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days without Nayeon. A laugh that sounded more like a sob escaped her lips. “We’ve been together for less than a week- how is this even happening…”

Mina snuffed out her cigarette on the ashtray Momo bought for Nayeon. She leaned closer and placed a hand over hers. “I know things are...tough right now. And believe me, I wanted to storm over there myself when I heard about it. But Nayeon told me to head over here and make sure you’re okay.”

When she wouldn’t respond, Mina grabbed both her hands and held them firmly. “Momo, listen,” she said, her voice softer like it was before when she first met her. “I can’t-...I can’t guarantee anything right now. I don’t have the heart to tell you anything for certain. I don’t know what’ll happen next or what our definitive next move is going to be because believe it or not, I’m just as ing lost as you are right now. And although I can’t imagine the degree of pain and anguish you must be feeling, believe me when I tell you that I’m just as concerned about this as you are. Asking you to try and be fine right now is a level beyond stupid so I won’t even bother. You’ve been robbed of so much so quick and I don’t know how to make you feel any better except maybe to tell you that it’s going to be fine. Obviously not tomorrow, not this week, maybe not even for the next few months. But please believe me when I say it will.” Mina squeezed her hand gently and she could feel her fingers tremble a bit every now and then.

Momo looked up at Mina and held her gaze, unwavering and filled with such resolve that caught her off-guard. And for a split-second, an ounce of it seemed to have been transferred over to her. The world stopped spinning and fell into place for a moment before reality came back to crush it again. But although it only lasted for a moment, it snapped her out of the half-dead trance she was in a few seconds ago. If only for a second, she caught sight of it; hope. Momo nodded in response which was the most hopeful she could manage to be as of now.

A small smile found its way to Mina’s lips. “And if you decide to move out, call me. I might be able to find you a place.”

She nodded again.

Mina stayed with her for a few more hours, refusing to leave just yet in fear that Momo might do something reckless. They ordered takeout but she could barely finish half of it. Her shoulders were sandbags, straining to move her arms that refused to pick up her chopsticks. Everything was heavy. Even the air felt heavy and would at times refuse an intake, contracting as if in protest to life itself. Every now and then, and despite the risk of it all, she’d dial up Nayeon’s phone number in the hopes that the line would connect. What she’d always get in reply was reality’s merciless punch to the gut that’d make her heave once the automated answering voice announces that the call cannot be made. It couldn’t be reached, it said.

Eventually, her muscles eased enough for her to remember how to smile. Barely a noticeable curve, but enough to trick Mina into finally leaving. She needed to be alone. Mina staying there felt too real; too immediate like another gash inflicted, reminding her of the other, much more grievous wound she had just incurred. “I feel better,” she lied with a weak smile before saying goodbye. Momo locked the door and made a lumbering beeline towards her bed, collapsing onto the sheets as sleep took over.

Her mother came to her dreams. She was walking beside her in the woods where her aunt’s cottage was. Momo looked at her mother’s hands that were holding her own and thought they were too big, but then realized hers was just too small. She was a child again, looking up at her mother whose face was obscured by her long hair that fell on her shoulders as the blinding light of the midday sun shone on top of broken canopies that formed shapes on the ground and on their skin. Neither of them said anything as they walked. Nothing but the sound of dried leaves crunching beneath their feet and the rustling of the branches above head as a breeze swept over. She saw her mother’s lips move soundlessly as if saying something before she smiled. Before she could ask, Momo opened her eyes and saw the black of night.

Her head moved like an unsteady bowling bowl and throbbed with the immense pressure of a gas tank ready to explode. She wiped her cheeks and sat up on her bed for a few minutes to let it subside, grabbing her phone to check for a miracle.

1 New Message

Her next breath hinged on . She entered her phone’s password in a single heartbeat but dropped it on her lap when she saw Sana’s name.

S: Still waiting on your *cough* update. No pressure.

She had to know. But she couldn’t go out tonight. She couldn’t even leave the bed without straining. Remembering she had work tomorrow made it almost impossible to stand up. She could only care less about it now than she did before; less about everything else now than she did before. Everything except Nayeon.

When her legs regained enough strength, she stood up and made her way to the bathroom for a cold shower, the numbing chill proving useless against the sore aches in her body. Dinner was her leftover lunch earlier and a box of cookies Mina left behind. Momo glanced at the empty chair on the dining table then decided she'd had enough, leaving everything unfinished. She brushed her teeth afterwards but had to stop every now and then as her jaws would clamp tight as they shuddered. The wall clock read 10:30. Nine more hours before work. Momo returned to bed, turning off her phone’s alarm as she dove back into deep slumber.

No dream came to her that night. Nothing but the comfort of sleep in its ink-black space devoid of everything. No pain, no suffering. She embraced it like the last lifebuoy thrown at her in the sea, hoping it would keep her safe as she weathered the storm; hoping she’d wake up someplace better. Somewhere far away in a different reality where everything is okay. Maybe in another timeline earlier in her life so she could call Nayeon for the first time again. Sometime before she could meet the devil and sign his contract. She’d dial her number ingrained in her head and hear her morning voice straining to give directions for a pizza delivery. And before she can even let out a sob, she’d tell her she loves her. She’d tell her everything. Everything they had said; everything they haven’t; everything they couldn’t. Then she’d tell her everything they did. The Grain Box; the bars; the butterfly garden; the diners; the cherry blossoms; the construction sites; the ice cream parlor; the city; about the ball and how they ditched it to ride bicycles around the street-lit corners of this unforgiving city. Then she’d tell her about Italy. About the dream that fell unto reality. About the hills, the town, the wine and the people.

About the house you drew for us. And how you said we’d come back one day to see it all again.

But then the line went dead, and the noise was enough to shake her awake. She looked outside and almost choked on a sob when she saw the light of morning. She shut her eyes tight and fell back into the sheets, praying the void would take her back in.

The lights were out again. Outside, the city continues to breathe as it always has. The collective noise of car horns, sirens, exhaust pipes, and the marching of people found its way to her space. She was slumped on the bedside, staring out the window through the slits of the blinds as she let her phone ring out. Ten missed calls from Sana. She couldn’t bring herself to answer because she didn’t know what to say or if she even had the capacity to utter a single word to anyone. Even if she picked it up and started explaining, there was no doubt she’d burst out into tears before any point got across. Useless. Even now, she was useless. More so than before. And as if plagued by a perpetual cycle in her life, she found herself stuck once again. Only this time, she might never get out.

The next day, a loud knock on the door shot her up the bed. She shuffled quickly over to the entrance and prayed for a miracle.

“What the Momo?!” Sana yelled, her brows creased beyond worry. “Where the were you?! Why weren’t you answering your phone?! Christ- I’ve been worried sick since Tuesday!”

She opened but couldn’t think of an excuse. And despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression, Sana immediately saw through it.

“What’s wrong?” She asked in a softer tone.

She couldn’t answer and instead invited her in.

They settled onto the couch and as she tried to explain everything that had happened in as little words as possible, Sana’s face changed from worried to annoyed to disbelief. She wanted the explanation to be over and for it to be the last time she’ll ever have to say the words “breakup” and “threat” in the same context. She was too tired now. Too tired to even cry when Sana asked what her plan was.

“I don’t know,” she answered, her gaze glued to the floor.

She heard Sana let out a sigh. “Look I-...I’m really sorry this happened to you. Like, this is beyond unfair and neither of you guys deserve this. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now, but Momo listen...I don’t want you to go through this alone. And I know there are times when you just need to be alone but...I want you to rely on me more. I’m your bestfriend for ’s sake. I worry about you. Whether you like it or not, I do.”

“I’m sorry...I know I should’ve told you from the start.”

“No don’t-...” Sana groaned. “Don’t apologize, okay? You were dealing with this in your own way and I totally get that. Just-...maybe just drop a message and say you need some space or something.” She ran a hand through her hair as she hunched forward, whispering, “ at least let me know if you’re okay…”

She looked at Sana then and for the first time in a while, she smiled, leaning over to give her a hug. Sana returned it and almost instantly, her body melted at the familiar warmth, at her citrusy perfume that matched the color of her hair, at her voice that whispered, “I’m always here for you.”

They stayed there for a while until Sana broke off and said, “I know it might be too soon to say this, but...Momo, you can’t stay cooped up in here forever. It’s been almost a week since then. When did you last go outside?”

Her silence was enough to answer.

Sana let out another sigh. “...Can I ask you something that’ll make you mad?”

Momo gave her a curious look. “What?”

“Okay…” Sana breathed in deep. “When the will you wake up?”

“...I’m sorry?”

“I’ve noticed this for a while. And yes, Momo - I still feel ing terrible for what happened between you guys. But...have you really not realized it yet?”

“Realized what?”

“That you’ve been in a trance ever since you met Nayeon,” she said.

“Tr-...trance? Wait, what are you saying?”

“Momo,” Sana took in another breath. “Tell me, when was the last time you carved something?”

“Carved what?”

And as soon as the question left , it hit her like a bolt from the blue. How she managed to even ask that question stunned her and Sana simply stared in silence.

“When was the last time you touched a block of wood? Or even thought about carving something?”

Silence.

“You’ve been so entranced by her and so completely smitten that you’ve lost track of everything else. Christ, do you even realize - every time we get a chance to talk the first thing that leaves your mouth is Nayeon. And Momo, I love that for you, but it happens every damn time! I don’t know what else is going on with you except your latest date plans with Nayeon and how the last one went! It’s Nayeon this, it’s Nayeon that. I’ve learned more things about Nayeon in the past six months than I’ve learned anything new from you in the past year.”

“I’m...sorry it annoys you but-”

“This isn’t about me, Momo. It’s about you. You dedicate and give up so much of yourself to one person that you lose track of the things that make you yourself.”

Silence.

“And I get it, you love her. I get it. But when was the last time you actually - genuinely, cared for yourself?”

She stared blankly at the coffee table.

Sana reclined onto the couch, setting her elbow onto the armrest as she massaged her head with a hand, looking more tired now than she was when she walked in a few minutes ago. “I think - for most of us at least - we look for the love we can’t give to ourselves, from other people. It's like there's this whole ing plague wiping out the last crumbly bits of our self-esteem so we just think it’s almost impossible to love yourself first. Or maybe you do, but you always put yourself at second or at third, and literally everyone else you put first,” she pulled her head back and let it rest onto the cushion, looking up at the ceiling. “You can’t bring yourself to love yourself, so instead, you give so much of it to someone else and you hope and you pray that they’ll give it back.” Sana turned her head to the side to look at her then. “Momo, you can’t just put that much responsibility on one person’s shoulder. They can’t be the only one responsible for providing you the love you deserve. What happens then if they leave?”

Momo flinched, slumping lower on her seat.

Sana scooted closer and placed a hand over her back, rubbing it soothingly. “But that’s why you give bits and pieces of it to others. That’s why you give some to me, to Tzuyu, and to that other woman who’s been stealing my spot as best friend.”

Momo chuckled, surprising herself at the almost forgotten sound it made.

“That’s why you give some to yourself, Momo. Even if it’s just little. Just enough to get you through the pain somehow.”

“...That’s a lot easier said than done, Sana.”

“I know. I’m saying this for both our sakes. I’m working on it too,” she said. “But...maybe you can start by accepting what’s already happened, Momo. Again, I’m not saying you should be okay with it right now, but you have to realize that...staying cooped up in here and staring at the wall for days on end won’t do anything to help you. Sure, take a day or two to rest or something. But five?” Sana pursed her lips as if bracing for the next sentence. “I think you need to hear it from someone else. And as your best friend, I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this...I don’t think Nayeon’s coming back anytime soon, Momo.”

Her jaws clamped tight in reflex to stop from bursting out. Somewhere at the very back of her mind, a small voice like a whisper had said this in her sleep. And even though she had stopped wishing for a miracle to happen, it was impossible not to hope. It was impossible back then on their first night in a bar, and it’s still somehow impossible now. Impossible not to assume every message and call that came her way was from Nayeon. Impossible not to dial her number every hour. Impossible to stop herself from imagining that Nayeon would knock on her door every time she wakes up; say everything’s alright now and that they can finally live the life they promised each other.

But Sana’s voice was real. It didn’t come from a whisper in her head. This was her reality now. And it was impossible to pretend that it wasn't. It was like hearing it for the first time. The tragic news written in bold across the newspaper headline.

She’s gone now and there’s nothing you can do to take her back.

Momo felt everything rise up from her chest. She lurched forward, then cried out a sob that filled the empty room.

When she settled back down after a while, Sana handed her a glass of water, one hand rubbing her back. “So...what are you going to do now?”

She drank half the glass, sniffing as she clutched her ball of tissue. “I still don’t know. I mean, Mina said it’s better if I can find a new place to stay in, but I have no idea where.”

Sana pursed her lips in thought. “You can stay with us for a while if you want. Until you find a new apartment.”

She smiled at the offer. “Thanks but I’d be imposing too much. And the commute to work from your place might literally kill me, so-”

“Hey stop that.” Sana pointed a firm finger at her. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“I’m sorry.” She leaned her head against Sana’s shoulder. “But...you know I can’t stay there with you guys,” she said. “I’ll find a place. Don’t worry.”

The silence floated for a bit longer until Sana breathed in and asked, “Do you really want to go back to your job?”

She kept her head bowed. It was pointless to ask that. “No. But I don’t think I have much of a choice. Especially if I’m out hunting for a new apartment here.”

“You always have a choice, Momo,” Sana replied. “Remember that place up north we talked about a few months back? Carved Hearts?”

Momo lifted her head at the mention and gave her a questioning look.

Sana opened but paused as she brought her eyes down. She her lips before continuing with a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Tzuyu still has her contact there. And your aunt owns a cottage near that town, right?”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on...you’re saying I should move all the way there?”

“Why not? You said you need to move out of here and you don’t want to go back to your job. So?”

“Well yeah but-...but that’s like way way up north. And my aunt doesn’t live there anymore. I don’t know a single person there!”

“Momo, you’ve managed to travel all the way over to Italy for a week knowing just the bare minimum of their language. What’s a few hundred miles in this country got that scares you?”

She scoffed but was already scrambling for excuses. “Yeah but I didn’t go there alone, Sana. I wouldn’t have lasted a day if I did. I’m hopeless with directions, I my pants every time I try and initiate a decent convo with strangers, I-...I just think it’s too far.”

Sana gave her a sympathetic smile and said to her the words that had once been said before from a memory still so painfully vivid. “You’re a lot braver than you think, Momo.”

She hung her head in silence, wondering how they all saw her that way and how come she didn’t. “I’m not. I-...I’m not...I’m really not. I’m not. I can’t even stand up to that ing prick,” she let out a tired laugh then brought her hands to her face. “I can’t even-...I can’t even go out of my own room because I-...I’m too ing scared to move forward but at the same time I can’t go back to how it was and now I’m ing stuck here again and” - she bit down a sob - “I’m stuck here again…”

“So move already,” Sana replied, her voice firm and so sure of everything. “You’ve done this before, Momo. Back when you left your hometown to live here in the city, you didn’t know anyone. When you quit college, you didn’t go back there, right? You stayed here and looked for a job.” She let out a deep sigh and leaned a bit closer to her. “I don’t think distance is what scares you, Momo.”

She knew it from the start. More than the distance; more than the anxiety of not knowing anyone there; what terrified her the most was knowing that in a way, moving out of the city meant she’d have to accept the possibility of living the rest of her life without Nayeon. It meant signing the contract and accepting the reality that there’s nothing more she can do but wait like a wife in constant despair, knowing her wife was out there fighting a war and all she may ever get one day was a letter saying it was all over. That her anguish has ended to give way for a more torturous suffering. Whereas staying here in the city meant she’d still have a chance to see her someday. Maybe in the streets or in a coffee shop. She’d still see the houses she’d build or see her name on a plaque somewhere. Suffer the same degree of pain, but preserve every memory. Which of the two then would be less cruel?

“...I’ll think about it.” There it was. Her worn-down eject button. Always with a promise to mull things over but never to make a conclusion. To think without choosing. Stuck, stuck, stuck.

Sana reclined with an exhausted huff, evidently tired from her indecisiveness but was too sympathetic to scold her for it. “Alright, but you can’t stay cooped up in here. You look like so at least try and clean up properly.” Sana ran her fingers through her hair to fix a few scraggly strands. “I can sleep over tonight if you want.”

She smiled again at the offer and shook her head. “No need. I’m feeling much better now.”

Sana gave a slow nod. “Okay but promise me you’ll call tomorrow. I swear to god if I don’t hear from you by the end of lunch I’ll-”

“I promise. I’ll call you when I wake up,” she chuckled.

“Yeah I know your sleeping schedule Momo. By the time you wake up, I’d already be axing down your door so you better make sure you-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll set the alarm to 11. Early enough for you? Mom?”

“Yes. Yes, that’ll do,” she smirked then stood up, slinging her black handbag over her shoulder. She opened up her arms for a hug to which Momo was eager to give. “It’s gonna be okay, Momo,” she whispered. “I can sense it with my psychic twin connection.”

“Just the assurance I need.”

Momo saw her out the door at first, then pushed herself to walk the rest of the way out until she was out of the building for the first time in a week. Nothing changed except for the cars that were parked by the road. Sana hailed a taxi and kissed both her cheeks goodbye, waving her hand out the window as she went her way. She watched the taxi turn right on a corner before disappearing, leaving her alone once again but now with a much more lightened weight on her shoulders. And before her subconsciousness could turn her around to face the ghost spot Nayeon left behind on the curb of the street, Momo quickly started her way back up.

Despite still being stuck in a limbo for another week, her resolution to quit her job still carried through. Even though she hasn’t planned her next source of income yet, it became clear to her that it was impossible to continue working there. To pretend that it wasn’t killing her bit by bit every day as the walls of her cubicle slowly closed in on her, becoming smaller and smaller until she could barely breathe. By Monday the following week, Momo submitted her resignation papers to Peach Cosmetics. She cleared out her desk, leaving nothing but the computer Mr. Lee assigned and the swivel chair that had lost its curves. Mrs. Baek saw her off with a pout, catching her by surprise as the woman pulled her in for a tight hug with her usual bright voice becoming a bit hoarse. Before leaving, Momo handed her a sculpture of a small sunflower she made a long time ago which finally brought Mrs. Baek to tears. She looked back at her earthquake-proof cubicle once more, then never again.

Job-hunting was a chore, as it usually was. An assistant librarian, a secretary for a small paint company, a sales assistant at a boutique in the nearby mall. A sigh would escape her lips every time she thought about taking any of them. She’d search for more online each day and her list would go on and on. Always searching, but never choosing. But she knew what she was doing. Drown out the thoughts and the memories. Stay constantly busy with anything to avoid the silence that came with doing nothing. The deafening silence she never noticed until now that seemed to wail through the walls of her empty unit.

When she’s not listing jobs, she’d carve again. The first time, a bit clumsily as her hands had forgotten how to hold wood. She used her old chisels and tools, keeping the set Nayeon gave her hidden in her storage. Before long, her hands were moving as they were before she met Nayeon, chipping and shaving and hammering with precision and confidence. Within a week, she had finished a total of nine small sculptures and three medium ones, all of which she was proud of, and for a while, brought a satisfied smile on her face until she noticed how small her working space had become and that this wasn’t the first time it had been pointed out. She needed to find a new place.

Apartment-hunting was worse. And even though the constraint of work commute had been lifted, the housing situation in the city remained as ruthless as ever. There were only ever two options to begin with: cheap rent with a cutthroat neighborhood; or a decent enough space with an outrageous price tag. Even worse, finding an available flat in the middle-ground was like winning the grand lottery with how slim the chances were. She hasn’t contacted Mina since that day and she supposed things between them now became a bit awkward. It was hard to separate their own friendship from Nayeon. She considered not talking about the issue, but thought it would only feel wrong, and talking about anything else would feel too rehearsed as if they were actively avoiding it; while talking about it would just be depressing for the both of them. Either way, the apartment market was drying up fast and she needed to decide sooner than later.

It was the 16th of September on a drizzly afternoon at around 4:30 when Momo found the letter on her floor in front of the door’s mail slip. She had just come home from her grocery run and had almost stepped on the white envelope from all the brown bags she carried in front. She the kitchen lights and placed everything on the counter before making her way over to sit at the dining table. Momo opened the envelope, unfolded the single sheet of paper inside and felt suddenly clog up as the faint, warm scent of cedarwood embraced her once more.

No amount of words can ever express how much I miss you. And there’s equally not enough to tell you how ashamed I am for hiding behind these words instead of risking everything to be by your side right now. Even with this letter, I’m too afraid to call you and say everything that’s been going on in my mind for the past two weeks. I’m too afraid to hear your voice and for you to hear mine because I know myself well enough to know that I’d rush over there the second I hear you breathe. I meant it back then and I mean it now more than ever - I love your voice too much. So I’m writing this letter instead of calling and instead of putting these words in a text message - hoping they’ll convey even an ounce of what I’ve been feeling lately.

He’s got me under surveillance. Nothing too intrusive or serious, but he’s been coming over more often now, dragging me to more of his skeevy political luncheons and dinner parties to leave me with just enough time for my projects. He’s keeping a list of my phone’s contact book and had recently assigned a “bodyguard” to come along with me every time I leave the unit. There’s also the matter of some of his shadier dealings which he wouldn’t let me hear of and would push me away whenever he’d talk with the suited men who come to the dinner parties. I’m certain he has a lot more unsavory business for investigators to dig up, but that would take extra precaution and a lot of time. I’ve already talked to Mina about our plan. I’m as careful now as I can be so there’s no need for concern.

I worry about you. And you might hate me for saying it, but please believe me when I say that the only reason I can put myself to bed every night is the knowledge that I deleted your number before he had a chance to see it. I deleted everything. The messages, the calls. I’ve cut you off to keep him from getting to you. And for this, I won’t ask for your forgiveness. All I ask is for you to understand that you’re the most important person in my life right now and that by doing this, I can never be whole again.

Momo, I love you. Even now, I’m still beating myself up for not acting on this from the very start. Maybe if I had, we could’ve avoided that stupid ball and he would’ve never met you. Maybe we could’ve avoided this altogether. Momo I love you so much that it scares me. I’m so ing scared to think of my life without you. But what scares me the most is the thought that any harm might come to you. That you can’t have a normal life making all your sculptures and revisiting Italy and traveling the rest of the world. It terrifies me to think that you can’t have all of that, and it terrifies me to think that I could be the one to take it all away from you.

I don’t know how long this fight will go on. Momo I love you. I love you so much. But everything’s blurred right now. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or in a week or in a few months. I don’t possess the foresight to promise you that I’ll win in the end or that we’ll be together in a year, and I don’t have the heart to tell you to wait for me any longer than that. I love you. I really do. But I look at things the way they are now and I see a dark tunnel so insanely long that the light at the other end hasn’t reached me yet. I don’t even know if it’s there.

I love you. And you may find it hard to believe now, but I do. I always will. This is the only thing I can say to you in confidence and everything else I say with my hands trembling. I don’t know when he’s planning the marriage. I don’t know what will happen if I refuse. But hopefully by then, you’d have moved far away. Because the last thing I ever want to do is to make you go through this hell.

So please don’t wait for me. Don’t wait for me, Momo. That’s the only thing I’ll ask of you. You may hate me now and for the rest of your days, and I won’t ask for forgiveness. Maybe you’re unsure and that’s fine too. And maybe you still love me. But please don’t wait any longer after reading this letter. Don’t wait for me like you did back then in Lapine et Pêche. Don’t wait for any news to come because I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have. Get back to sculpting. I know you haven’t been doing it as much recently. Your tools must miss you. I do too.

My thoughts are still in Italy. Sometimes in that old movie theatre; sometimes in that coffee shop by the park. Always with you.

Momo flipped the letter face down on the table and stared at the floor for a minute, a thousand different things swirling in her head all at the same time. It wasn’t until she lifted her head back up and caught sight of the empty chair beside her that the first tear escaped. Everything that happened afterwards was a blur and she could only remember the sound of gasping for air and an ache in her chest that made her head spin as if she downed a whole bottle of whiskey in one gulp, searing and her heart and her skin. She blinked once then she was out of her unit, steadying herself against the wooden panels of the hall. She didn’t know where her legs were taking her, but staying there just amplified everything like a music room that made the throbbing in her head ten times stronger. Before she could take another step, Dahyun’s voice called out, muffled like a whisper from somewhere far away.

“Here,” Dahyun handed her a glass of water.

She took a small sip and felt a twinge on her dry lips. The floor was bright and unfamiliar. There was a faint sweetness in the room Momo recognized that woke her from her trance. Her place had changed. Almost unrecognizable save for the layout. Rose-coloured walls - previously white; white countertops - previously grey; the upright piano - now covered by small vases of succulents. Then there was her; hair still dyed to a light blonde, frames still too big for her face, clothes still plain and unbothered.

Dahyun pulled one of the armchairs closer to sit. “Any better?”

She nodded, not quite meeting the woman’s eyes. Before she could get up and say thank you, the inevitable question came.

“You looked just about ready to faint back there. What happened?”

She didn’t want to tell her. She didn’t want to explain it to anyone else ever again. “A bit under the weather. I’m fine now.”

There was a perceptible dejection in Dahyun’s face as she hung her head but was quickly shaken off with a neutral, “I see.”

An immediate pang of remorse hit her. Of course she’d see through the lie. “Thank you, by the way. Glad you were there at the right time,” she tried to smile.

“Then you should thank the cab driver for taking a shortcut to cut traffic,” she chuckled. “I’m glad I let him keep the change.”

"You got home from work?”

Dahyun nodded. “It is a Thursday.”

“Oh, right, right.”

“What about you? I think I see you around more often now.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I um...I actually quit my job about two weeks ago.”

Dahyun looked at her in surprise. “Wait, Peach Cosmetics? Why?”

She shrugged with obvious exhaustion in her shoulders and settled back onto her seat. “Just wasn’t for me.”

“So what are you doing now?”

She shrugged again and asked the same question in her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered to herself. “I have no idea. Not one ing clue apparently.” She clenched her jaws as she felt something well up inside again. Dahyun looked as if she wanted to say something but held back to let the silence run its course for a while.

“That’s still a valid answer,” Dahyun smiled with a hint of wistfulness in her tone that seemed to speak from experience. She looked at her then as her smile grew, her pale cheeks lifting the bottom of her glasses. “Just take your time with it. No need to rush back out there.”

The gentleness in her voice rang with a warm familiarity as it washed over her like thin waves blanketing the muddy shore. She remembers this too. Vaguely; as if muffled now by the rust of time. Somewhere in a timeline from their memory before everything ended. She was looking at an old photograph now, corroded and purposefully hidden, but never completely forgotten. And suddenly, it flashed in her head. A picture from the future. Was this how it will be with Nayeon? Purposefully hidden, but never forgotten? What will she remember? Her eyes? Her hair? Her smile? Or maybe her voice; always kind; always honest. Years from now, maybe she’d hear it again. She’d recognize the tone; the one that calls her name like no one else. Only, vaguely. Just like now, when the memory has been dusted.

The catching-up helped ease things. Dahyun had been working as a music teacher in a private high school. How’s the family? Fine. Brother working in a firm. How’s Ari? Still a cotton ball. How’s that piano piece you were writing back then? Trashed. How’s that summer camp you were planning to go to back then? Fun. Met someone special there. She stopped asking. Her answers were still succinct. Straight to the point with a little extra tidbit she adds to avoid being accused of a snob. Momo remembers telling her not to mind those people that do, but Dahyun was too self-conscious back then. She still is.

“What about you?” Dahyun asked without looking at her, an easy smile on her face. “Met anyone special lately?”

Momo took another sip. “Yeah. I have.”

Dahyun was the one looking at her now as if expecting more. Momo pried her eyes away as she forced another sip, hoping it was enough to hint that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

Thankfully, Dahyun seemed to have caught on, noticing the familiar type of curtness in her answer, and dropped any other questions that involved relationships.

When the silence went on for too long, Momo finally blurted it out. “I’m actually moving out soon.”

Dahyun perked up. “Out...like, out of this apartment? Or out the city?”

She swallowed hard and breathed in deep, steadying her fists that clenched the last bit of resolve she had left in her. “I’m moving out of the city.”

Dahyun stared at her for a while as if doubtful of her capability to make such a decision. And even though she was no less doubtful about it herself, she clenched her jaws tight and stared back as if challenging herself to go through with it.

“Where to?” Dahyun asked.

“Up north. There’s a job there for a wood sculptor.”

A slow smile spread on Dahyun’s lips. “You’re finally going for it, huh?”

She eased up and nodded. “I guess I am.”

“What changed your mind?”

Momo thought for a moment and smiled to herself, a familiar bitterness spreading on her tongue. “More like I’ve finally come to a conclusion.”

They talked some more afterwards, squeezing out the years’ worth of conversations they had missed, as well as the ones they’d never have afterwards. Somehow, she knew that Dahyun was aware of it. That this would most likely be their last conversation ever. The realization brought about a strange wistfulness in her. The type that delivers a weak sting many years later when you think you’ve cut off all emotions from a person. The pain of separation that was meant to be felt years ago but had been stored and preserved in time instead because of the lack of physical distance between them. It came to her now in its watered down state. Reduced to nothing more than a quick slap on the wrist that went away as soon as she stood up.

“Make sure you write that slip for the landlady if you’re gonna move this week cause I don’t think she’ll appreciate the lack of a 30-day notice. You know how she gets with these sudden vacancies.” Dahyun said as she opened the door for her.

“Will do. Thanks.” Momo stepped out, her legs feeling much more alive now.

“If you ever need a hand with packing, just knock. There’s a sixty percent chance I’m home on weekday afternoons and a hundred percent on weekends,” she smiled, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Even on Sundays?”

“Afternoon? Sure. The choir still needs me in the morning so that’s a no go, but I’m guessing that won't matter since you’re still a vampire.”

“And you’re still a saint,” she smiled.

Dahyun smirked and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Well what else would I be?”

Momo crossed her arms. “A dwarf.”

The girl scowled. “A dwarf who’s not even as half as clumsy as you.”

“Bird brain.”

“Tree sniffer.”

“Noodle arms.”

“Dish breaker.”

“Hey that was one time!” Momo pointed.

“Once during Christmas Eve dinner, once in that old department store, and another one when we were watching The Ring.”

Momo opened to object but stopped as bits and pieces of those memories flashed in her head. “...Okay but you can’t blame me for the third one. We were both scared less that night.”

“...Momo you dropped the damn plate when that phone rang.”

She narrowed her eyes. “As I said, scared less.”

They shared a laugh, something she never thought would happen again in her lifetime. Not even the possibility of talking to her again, let alone to step inside her room again after everything. Was this how it will be with Nayeon in a few years? Would she even want to talk to her again? Share a laugh? What would they even laugh at then; their trip to Italy? How silly all of it seemed? Maybe they’d laugh at how they knew each other for over half a year but dated for only a week.

Momo clenched her jaws and looked down at her feet for a second, trying her best to shrug it off in front of Dahyun.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Dahyun looked at her with obvious concern in her eyes

“Yeah.” She smiled then turned away slowly directly towards her room’s door. “Hey,” she called out before reaching the knob.

“Hm?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

The request paper to end her tenancy was the first thing she took care of when she got back. The landlady who was living in a room behind the lobby desk asked why she had to move out all of a sudden.

“...Health reasons,” she said.

The hunched woman stared at her in scrutiny for a minute before eventually agreeing to sign the agreement. She was to vacate her room after five days. Five days - then she’d leave this place. Momo went back up to her room and the sight of the letter splayed on the table rattled her. She swiped it from the table and folded the paper as Nayeon had folded it, quickly tucking it back into the envelope like some cursed memento before shoving it into the bedside drawer. She then spared no second to pause and quickly dialled her aunt’s number.

The voice that answered belonged to an old woman, slow and hoarse with a gentle kindness intoned in her small “Hello?”. Hearing that voice again brought about a warmth inside her, pulled out from a time long ago as if it beckoned the memories from that summer. It’s been over three years since she last spoke to her and she can hear the guilt of it all in her own voice now. Yet even still, her aunt greeted her as if it had only been a month. She asked her everything. What are you doing now? When will you visit? Are you still living in the city? How’s wood sculpting? When will you visit? Momo sat herself down for the interview. An interview to apply for a residency. She answered everything the woman threw at her, keeping it vague whenever she’d ask about her love life because that was exactly how it was. Vague. Blurred to the point that she couldn’t see ahead anymore. Her aunt’s questions were inexhaustible, but she was more than glad to answer every single one of them and to ask a few of her own. It took them almost two hours to arrive at her request at hand.

“Well of course you can stay there!” Her aunt answered readily to her surprise. “When are you moving again?”

“O-oh, um, this Tuesday?”

“I’ll let the caretaker know so he can get the place ready. You know, we’ve had an underground wiring system installed a couple of years ago to help those big ol’ solar panels in the backyard. You remember those? The ones you said looked like swimming pool tiles?” She laughed.

“They still do look like swimming pool tiles, auntie,” she smiled remembering it.

“Well aside from those, you’ll have a more stable source of power if you wanna throw a party or something.”

“I highly doubt that but I’m grateful either way.”

“And either way, the place is yours, Momoring.”

“A-are you sure though? I mean I can find an apartment in town no problem if-”

“No, no, no, you are not staying in any apartment in that town, you hear me? Those rooms will crush your spine in about a week with how cramped they are. Have I told you about Mr. Kang’s apartment units?”

“Yes you have,” she chuckled. “A hundred times.”

“Then you’d remember how much of a scam those rooms are. Just use the cottage, Momo,” she said with a softer tone. “That place is just as much as yours as it is mine.”

Momo pursed her lips, taking a few seconds to compose herself because she didn’t want to cry a second time that day. “Thank you, auntie. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she said. “Call me when you get there, alright? And come visit me soon! I’d like to see your works in person.”

“I will. I promise.”

She got off the phone after a few more questions and quickly dialled Sana, letting her know about the news. 

“Wait really?! When?!”

“Tuesday. I’m moving out, with or without the job,” Momo clarified.

“Pfft, oh you’ll get the job, don’t even sweat about it. Just send Tzuyu your portfolio as soon as you can and she’ll make sure-”

“Already sent it a few minutes ago.”

“Oh. Then we’ll make sure you get their reply tomorrow, right Tzuyu?” Sana moved her phone away as she called out, a casual threatening tone behind the question. “Tzuyu said yes.”

“Yeah I bet,” she chuckled.

“I’ll come over this Saturday to help you pack.”

“No it’s fine. I don’t have that much to pack and most of my stuff is going with the movers.”

“Ugh, can you just let me see you off for once? Do I have to beg you for that? You know I can’t do that on a weekday, right?”

Momo smiled against her phone, looking over from her balcony made for one. “You don’t have to help me pack, but you could help me pick out some snacks for our sleepover.”

“...’Our’, meaning yours and mine?”

“No I meant mine and Mina’s - my best friend.”

“I will on your bed before you escape this place.”

Momo threw her head back and laughed. “Of course yours and mine! One last sleepover.”

“Okay good but don’t say that. You know I’m not nearly as emotionally composed as my girlfriend so don’t get me started on the waterworks just yet.”

“Yeah well, we’re in the same department there,” she replied. “I’ll see you Saturday night?”

“I’ll bring the booze.”

Last on her list was Mina. She stared at the number for a minute, her earlier smile disappearing as she remembered their last conversation and who it was about. She took a deep breath, leaning her arms against the cold metal bars of the railings as she dialed the number.

“Momo?”

“Hey, um, just calling to let you know...I’m moving away this Tuesday.”

Short pause.

She heard a faint sigh drift from the other end. “That’s good,” Mina said, her voice immediately giving away her relief. “Where to?”

“A town up north. Like hundreds of miles up north.”

“Wait, really? That far? What about your work? You know I can find you a place here if you want. Just tell me your budget and I’ll find you some place nice.”

“Thanks, but I already found a place there. And I quit my job at Peach.”

Short pause.

“Is this...for good?”

Momo brought her phone down for a second, catching her breath in the cool evening breeze. Her gaze drifted to the distance where the illuminated skyline of the city touched the night sky. “Yeah.”

“...Are you-” She heard Mina take in a sharp breath, cutting off the rest of her question. “I’ll contact a moving van for Tuesday then.”

“Thanks.”

“Tell me what time you’ll be leaving so I can see you off.”

“Don’t you have work?”

She heard Mina huff out a laugh. “Those houses aren’t going anywhere.”

The drizzle from earlier that afternoon had stopped.

A sudden urge to ask surfaced within her, but was quickly swatted away as she remembered the letter. What would she even ask if everything she wanted to know was already in that single piece of scented paper? There were no more questions. No more waiting; no more thinking over. She got her answer, and it was time to take a step forward.

It didn’t occur to her until she woke up in bed that Saturday morning and looked outside the streets. This was her last Saturday in the city; in this region. Yesterday was her last Friday and she spent it packing everything into duffel bags and suitcases. She made the decision to leave most of the furniture because as it turns out, the cottage was already well-furnished; kept clean by her aunt’s hired house caretaker. Aside from her bedside lamp and armchair, she’d leave everything behind for the landlady to keep or sell. The dining set, the couch, the bed, the desk, the barely-used T.V. Maybe Sana would want to keep some in their unit. She considered giving some to Dahyun but figured it would’ve been too cruel. Mina most likely wouldn’t have any use for any of it.

That afternoon, she packed her tools into a suitcase along with some of her materials. She wrapped all of her pieces with newspaper and placed the smaller ones in a separate bag. The few big ones that couldn’t fit would be left for the movers. By the time she finished, it was half-past six. Sana arrived carrying a six-pack just a few minutes after the delivery girl from Brick’d Pizza came with their dinner. She didn’t know if it was the same one back then and tried her best not to think about it any further. This then quickly became the underlying theme for the night. Ignorance. Avoidance. To ignore that this would most likely be their last time hanging out in a long, long while. To pretend that this was just any other Saturday night sleepover. And just like any other Saturday night sleepover, Sana was in-charge of movies. This of course spelled out a string of mid-tier horror movies like Gremlins, Scream, Coraline, Jennifer’s Body, Dawn of the Dead, etc. The only movie Momo watched without her hands or a pillow to obstruct her view was Coraline. Even then, she was constantly on the edge. Meanwhile there was Sana, unhinged screaming and jolting at every little twitch and creak even though they’ve already watched all of these movies time and time again.

They didn’t start drinking until their third movie, Jaws, because they knew well enough that if they started any earlier, they’d both be knocked out cold before midnight.

“Here,” Momo handed Sana the bottle of wine she bought from Montalcino. “Forgot to give you this last time.”

“Ah yes, your peace offering,” Sana snickered, examining the bottle. “Should we drink it now?”

“Really? What about these?” Momo lifted her empty can of beer beside her mattress placed on the floor.

Sana shrugged against the couch cushion. “You can save em for some other time. Besides, a special night like this calls for a special kind of poison, don’t you think?”

Momo smiled and got up from the floor, heading over to the kitchen to grab two wine glasses. Sana uncorked the bottle and filled them half-full, bringing her nose closer to the rim of the glass to take in the scent.

“Mm, yes. Dominant notes of red fruit loops, ’s blood, and cherry cough syrup with hints of headache and regret,” Sana enthused.

Momo brought the rim of her own glass closer to take a whiff. “Dominant notes of what my breath would smell like in a couple of hours.”

“Exquisite.”

They laughed and clinked glasses. “Wait no, make a toast first,” Sana said.

Momo thought for a second. “To my new job in Carved Hearts.” She raised her glass.

“Cheers!”

They clinked once again and downed their first sip.

“...Yeah that’s horrible,” Sana made a sour face and placed her glass down on the coffee table.

Momo chuckled and took another sip of her own as she settled back down on the floor, her back against the padded front of the couch. In front of them, the T.V. flickered amidst the dimmed room, the movie Let the Right One In paused on the scene where the vampire says she has to be invited in to enter the boy’s home. Momo took another sip, and despite her best efforts, a memory of Italy flashed in her mind. For only a fraction of a second, she saw the vast open hills and vineyards with rows of cypress in the distance.

“...Momo?” Sana’s voice snapped her out of it.

“Hm?”

“I asked if I should resume it.”

“Yeah.” She nodded with half a smile, but her thoughts had all tumbled out of focus.

She felt Sana shift behind her on the sofa. “...You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

She nodded and let the silence drift on for a minute.

“Alright c’mon,” Sana stood up from the couch and grabbed Momo’s hand, pulling her up with her. “Wine break.” She pulled her outside onto the cramped balcony, the cool evening breeze greeting them as they leaned against the railings. Down below, the same view of the empty street with cars parked along the curb, illuminated by street lamps and every other light from open windows of apartment buildings and late night stores. In front, a broken view of the business district, with skyscrapers outlined by rows of light, partially obstructed by red-bricked apartment units. Up above, she counted five stars, all of them spread out, making them seem more far apart than they already were.

“Did you tell Dahyun?” Sana suddenly asked.

“Yeah. The other day.”

Sana nodded and took another sip. “What about...the other one?”

Momo shook her head.

“Are you going to?”

She shrugged and took a sip of hers. “You think I should?”

The question made her laugh. “Why the hell are you asking me?”

The sounds of car horns blaring from a distance filled in the silence. Momo breathed in the smoke-filtered air of the city and sighed. “Because I honestly can’t tell whether or not I’m making a mistake.”

Sana looked at her.

“And it feels like I’m rushing to get away from this. God, I quit my job a few weeks ago and now I’m packing everything up to move hundreds of miles away from this place in three days. It hasn’t even been a month and I-...”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

She let out a sigh, the reality of everything slowly pushing its weight down her shoulders. “I feel like I’m running away.”

“Yeah I still don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Silence.

“I think you’re equating running away to giving up,” Sana said.

“But isn’t that the truth?”

Sana took another sip and shrugged. “Are you giving up?”

“I don’t know,” she answered readily because how could anyone expect her to answer with a simple yes or no.

“You say you don’t know, but you’ve already decided to move out. They’re not equal then. Problem solved.”

“But that’s why I’m having second thoughts about it now.”

“Hm, I think you’ve already thought it through though,” Sana answered. “I think you’ve made your choice and now you’re just confusing your fears and doubts for indecision.”

“Isn’t indecision a by-product of those two?”

Sana smiled at her. “You can be decided on something and still have a whole lot of fears and doubts, Momo. You don’t have to be completely and totally on-board with everything you choose to decide.” Momo looked down on the streets, at the people walking along the sidewalk. She felt Sana gently bump her shoulder. “And you’re allowed to miss her, idiot.”

She felt something well up inside her all of a sudden.

“Don’t kill it just yet. I know it hurts like hell but it will get better. So just let it run its damn course. Don’t immunize yourself to it. Or else you might teach yourself that this isn’t a part of everything else. That missing someone you love and crying out for them isn’t a part of what you signed up for, when in fact, it’s all part of the whole package.”

“...Even the breakup?”

“Momo, there’s not a single relationship in this world that’s immune to breakups,” she said. “Not even married couples who seem like the two happiest people in the world are immune to that. It’s kinda like buying a car, y’know? You don’t always think an accident might happen to it. And let’s say you make sure to always drive carefully and to follow the law. You take good care of maintaining it, but you don’t rule out the possibility that it might combust into flames either. It’s not indestructible, but you buy it anyway.”

She laughed at the analogy and wiped her eyes. “You know, she’s not the only one I'm sad about leaving behind,” Momo nudged Sana’s shoulder.

Sana gave her an exaggerated pout and finished her glass. “...You mean that other friend of yours? Mira? Mila?”

“Mina. I’ll miss her too, but...not as much as my best friend.”

“...Mrs. Baek?”

“Yes, because obviously she’s the one standing here beside me right now.”

A smile spread across Sana’s face for a moment, but when she bowed her head to hide it, it slowly dissolved and she had to purse her lips to try and stop what was coming next.

“...You’re not the only one who’s trying to come into terms with this.” She forced a laugh but her eyes were already shimmering.

There came a dull ache in her chest she had never felt before. Eight years. They’ve been together in this city for eight whole years. She’d been there during Sana’s graduation; during when Sana got her first job and her second. She’d been there when her dad got into a car accident; and she’d been there when she almost got into one herself. Every Christmas party, every New Year’s party, every birthday, every late-night trip to the bar after a breakup, every summer vacation trip to somewhere. It dawned on her then as she looked at the girl beside her with her orange hair draping half her face, eyes downcast as chewed on her lip. She’d seen this look before. She’d seen it time and time again and she’d seen every other look she had just as much. Momo put her glass down and wrapped Sana in a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered softly with a tone that carried no less of the weight it bore. Then she said it again because once wasn't enough. And because it now dawned on her that she’d be leaving so much more than a Saturday or a Friday behind.

Sana returned the hug without a word, her hands trembling against the flat of her back as they stayed there for a few more minutes. “Promise I’ll visit,” Sana’s voice cracked against her shoulder.

“Promise I’ll call every week.”

Sunday went by quickly, as if Saturday had stolen it's time for itself in prolonging their last night together. They woke up with a headache and had coffee an hour before lunchtime. Sana had to go home after eating because she still had some work to type in at home. Momo gave her a music box she put together last week with its moving parts bought at a store but the casing she sculpted herself. Sana pulled her in for one last hug and said goodbye before the shimmer in her eyes broke out again.

Come Monday evening, she knocked at Dahyun’s door to give her a parting gift - a set of wooden piano keys as a keychain. She never suspected the gesture to be awkward because she didn’t care what Dahyun would do with it. She could throw it away if she found it too insensitive, or keep it to be forgotten without any form of sentimentality attached. She supposed then that this was more of a courtesy to herself. This was her last goodbye. The last word to be written in their book.

On her last night in the city, Momo went out for a walk. Something she hasn’t done in quite a while by herself. She grabbed her red coat and started walking along the sidewalk with no destination in mind. The Gingko trees that lined the streets had begun to yellow as it shivered with the Autumn breeze. She found it ironic then, in a way, that she was cramming everything into memory. This place; this city that she never truly loved in all her eight years with all the noise and the hordes of people. No love for the towers of concrete or the eternal smog that seemed to float like another atmosphere over their heads. Even her favorite places like the parks and the coffee shops couldn’t lift up her enthusiasm about living here. Over half of her memories here were recalled with a certain degree of stress and disappointment, and the rest she remembers with Sana and Nayeon.

But she supposed then as she was walking along the park now, amongst the flowerless patches of tulips and daffodils with the bluebells that have lost their buds, that everything here now in this god-forsaken city will forever be a part of herself she’d take for the rest of her life. Whether or not it was something that caused her great pain or sorrow didn’t seem to matter now. She crammed everything into memory because this was all part of the package. By accepting this reality, the idea that she was running away now didn’t seem so bad. For how can anyone run away from something that will always be a part of who they are. And she supposed that maybe one can see this as an act of moving forward, instead of running away.

She took another step forward into the night, looking past the distant lights from empty buildings that dotted the skyline like stars brought down from the heavens - down to earth. It was nights like these when she couldn’t tell the difference, but she’d remember them just as well. A galaxy on Earth.

Mina arrived before the movers did. She looked much more preoccupied now, staring into space as they talked with a cigarette lit between her lips, her eyes glued to the floor but was ready with a warm smile whenever it was needed. Despite this, she still looked as stunning as when she first met her. The blank stares, she supposed, were her way of dodging topics neither of them wanted to talk about. So instead, they steered the conversations towards her plans for the near future. Will you come back here someday? Maybe. Do you want me to visit you instead? Definitely. Will you come if I invite you to one of my charity balls? I hate balls. They both found a few things to laugh at over coffee before the movers finally knocked.

“Oh, hey, here,” Momo opened her suitcase and grabbed a sculpture of a swan in flight she did a few years back and gave it to Mina. “Nothing fancy, but I um...hope you’ll keep it for me.”

Mina looked at it for a minute, a slow smile forming on her lips, paired with a faint bitterness in her eyes. “I’ll treasure it, Momo.”

The movers loaded the few furniture she had onto a small truck along with some of her bigger pieces. Mina paid for all the costs and hired the company’s van service to take her along.

Momo hauled the last of her bags out the unit, pausing as she stared at the almost empty room, engraving everything into memory. The dining chairs, the worn out couch, the wine stain on the rug, the empty shelves, the long end table by the wall. She closed the door and locked it one final time before heading downstairs to the lobby where she finally surrendered her keys.

Outside, the eight o’clock sun had begun to rise, obstructed only by the hard edges of apartment buildings and the timeless silhouette of the old theatre whose lonely shadow had loomed over the curb for decades. Momo stared at the only structure in the whole city she’d truly miss seeing. La Dolce Vita had come back from the cycle as if to bid her farewell. This would most likely be their last meeting, so she made sure to remember everything.

Momo stood by the open door of the van with Mina beside her. They shared a wistful smile before coming together for a hug. “We’ll miss you,” Mina whispered, her hair’s scent calming a bit of her nerves.

“...Take care of her.”

“I will.”

Momo wiped her cheeks as they broke off. “Can you give this to her tomorrow?” She pulled out her lucky rabbit sculpture from her pocket and held it tightly, hoping to stop her hands from trembling as she gave it to Mina. She forced a smile amidst the tears. “Greet her a happy birthday for me.”

She remembered asking it one night long ago when she saw her mother dancing alone in the kitchen with the radio on. She couldn’t sleep by herself in her room at the time and had decided to sleep with her parents for the night. When she walked out of her room, the light in the kitchen was on, and as she went closer to investigate, she saw her mother dancing to the tune of an old Japanese song that had been stuck in her head to this day.

...There’s an empty chair beside me...the same one in which you rocked back and forth yesterday afternoon...If I could wander around like this in my dreams, I’d become happy...If you weren’t here anymore...I’ll leave this town behind...And start anew by myself…

She remembered approaching her and asking, “Mama? Why are you dancing alone?”

Her mother turned around to face her without missing a beat, her hands positioned as if she was slow-dancing with someone else. “Well you’re here now, aren’t you dear?” She offered a smile and motioned for her to join in to which she readily accepted. She remembered her mother’s hands holding her own, warm and with a gentle firmness that made her feel infinitely safe as she guided their steps.

“But who were you dancing with earlier?” Momo pressed.

“I was dancing with myself,” her mother hummed with the tune.

She looked up at her, all confused. “You don’t want to dance with Papa?”

“Papa’s too tired right now Momo.”

“Mama’s not tired?”

Her mother smiled and shook her head, the light on the ceiling shining above her jet-black hair. After a while, she asked her, “Why do you think we dance, Momoring?”
 

She thought for a moment. “I dunno.”

“Then can you guess why Mama’s dancing right now?”

She looked at her. “Because you’re happy?”

Momo remembered the smile that came after, and the crease in her brows that stayed just a little too long. “We dance when we’re feeling something,” she said. “We dance when we’re happy, when we’re sad or angry or even when we’re scared.”

“You dance when you’re scared?”

“Especially when you’re scared,” she said. “You move and twirl and jump and sway, and you throw your hands up in the air like this,” she raised their hands together and started jumping around the small square of the kitchen, both of them giggling as the song continued. She stopped shortly after to catch her breath, squatting down to face her. Her mother looked at her then with such warmth in her eyes that’ve been seared in her memory so she could never forget. “You keep moving, Momo. Even when you’re scared. No matter what, you keep on dancing.”

“What if I’m too tired? Like Papa?”

“Then you go right ahead and sleep. Rest up as much as you want,” she said, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “And when you’re feeling better again, you…?”

“...Dance?”

She nodded, her smile brighter than any light. “You dance.”

You dance, Momo repeated in her head as she stared at the orange horizon spanning across the open fields of rice paddies outside the window. Looking back now, she should’ve pressed the question. Should’ve asked her again if it was because she was happy that she was dancing that night. Maybe then, she would’ve figured it out. Maybe then, she would’ve told her to get back to bed and rest her body. And if she’d refuse, maybe then, she would’ve danced with her a bit longer. But she could hear it still, the song that was playing that night. Even now as her thoughts drift back to the countless yesterdays that trailed behind her, she could hear it still, her mother’s voice that held her hand, still warm and firm and gentle, saying, “Keep moving, Momo. No matter what.”

She didn’t know when it happened. Maybe it was after the 30th town signage they’ve passed, or when they stopped for lunch at McDonald’s. Maybe it was right after seeing that big lake with an island in the middle or after they exited that tunnel she thought would never end. But at some point, as they drove along the miles and miles of road ahead and behind them, the idea that she was running away slowly disappeared in her head. It didn’t feel like running away anymore, because somehow, she knew this was exactly the road she was meant to take. And if, by some act of God, this road leads her back to Nayeon, then surely, that path would never diverge from her again.

But if it doesn't, then she’d keep on dancing. No matter what, keep moving. Rest for a while; sleep for a while. Then you twirl, and you jump, and you sway.

They arrived at the cottage a quarter after eight. She stepped out of the van and caught the immediate scent of pinewood drifting amidst the cold breeze from the lake. From a distance just a few yards behind the cottage, the ripples of its surface shimmered against the light of the moon. The cottage looked almost the same as it did back then with the addition of a few more outdoor lights and a somewhat designated parking space in front of the facade. There was a tall metal pole stuck a few meters from the cottage that held a lamp bright enough to illuminate the surrounding area. Behind the cottage, she could spot the reflective sheets of the solar panel. Everywhere was dirt. No asphalt; no concrete. Just dry earth and wood with the shrubs of the forest starting a few meters away from the property.

The caretaker of the place was an old man who wore one of those red fisherman jackets with pockets in front over his black long-sleeves, paired with his baggy cargo pants and combat boots. His fisherman hat was decorated with a few pins and made him look more of a retired park ranger reliving his glory days.

“You Hirai?” He asked with a gruff tone that made her pause for a second.

“Yes.”

“Took ya long enough. Almost thought ya changed your mind or something,” he said.

“Thankfully I haven’t, but this place is pretty far from the city,” she smiled politely.

“And we like it that way,” he gave one deep nod and placed a hand over his hip as he looked around the area. “None o’that smoke-belchin’, plastic-throwin’ uppity snobs, building malls and casinos and parking lots over our town.”

He reminded her of Mr. Accardi if Mr. Accardi was korean and had the temper of a honey badger. She couldn’t help but smile seeing the similarities in the appearance as well. “Exactly why I decided to move here, mister um…”

“Kwon.”

“Mr. Kwon,” she repeated, then held out her hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Kwon.”

He took a moment to accept, his grumpy-looking face avoiding eye contact as he shook her hand with a pout. Afterwards, he turned his back on her and motioned for her to follow inside the cottage. The layout was just as she remembered it to be with just a few more furniture added to the living room and bedroom. Still no T.V., but thankfully the internet had managed to reach this place. The fireplace had been kept clean as well as everything else from the kitchen counters to the shower room. The sliding glass doors that led to the small veranda outside were spotless and she wondered if Mr. Kwon had cleaned everything himself recently.

He showed her around almost begrudgingly as he hobbled along the floor boards, pointing at the rooms and basic appliances without stopping his feet. But despite this, he came off more like those old cartoon grandpas who has a bad temper but is actually a softie on the inside. As if he’s the type to complain about every little thing but would still be kind enough to list down all the important telephone lines in town and make the place as presentable and warm for a stranger moving in from the city. He drew out a map to show her how to get to Carved Hearts and hung it up on the fridge. There was a bike she could use to get there, but she figured she’d need to buy a car sooner or later. Maybe a small second-hand sedan or an SUV to load some of her bigger pieces around.

“And this right here’s the veranda,” Mr. Kwon slid open the glass doors that led outside. The enclosed space was much bigger than the balcony in her apartment. Enough to place a small outdoor table and some chairs to gaze at the view of the lake just a few yards away.

Momo looked towards the black of night, shaded by the faint blue hue of the moon up above the clear skies, it’s light casting over the surface of the lake that was almost completely placid if it weren’t for the crisp piney breezes that rippled across. She could make out the silhouette of the small island in the middle where her aunt would sometimes take her to explore by boat. She breathed in the cool air and leaned over the wooden railings. “It’s as beautiful as I remember,” she said with a wistful sigh.

“Nothin’ like this out in the city, huh?” Mr. Kwon huffed proudly.

She shook her head. “Nothing even close,” she smiled.

Mr. Kwon seemed to smile for a moment before clearing his throat and putting his grumpy face back on. “Anywho, that’s about it,” he said, stepping back into the cottage. “Oh and your auntie already paid the bills for the next three months, so you don’t have to worry about all that for a while.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Ye-ep. Already paid all of em this morning. Can’t help but spoil her favorite niece seems like it.”

“I-...holy that’s…”

“Now don’t start cryin’ in front of me now, ya hear? Just call her up in a bit and say thank you. I know she’d wanna hear from you soon.”

“Yes. Yes, definitely.”

Mr. Kwon gave a stiff nod. “I left my number on the fridge and you just give me a call if you have an emergency or ya need something here fixed. Only for emergencies, ya hear?”

She offered a warm smile. “Thank you, Mr. Kwon.”

He handed her the keys to the property and soon left with the movers after they’ve placed her pieces in her bedroom. Dinner was a cup of ramyeon because she was too tired from the trip to cook. She brought the warm cup outside and sat on one of the chairs facing the lake and the sky and the moon and the silhouettes of pine trees that stood in the banks. Everything was quiet except for the crickets that kept her company and the occasional sigh of the wind that caressed the trees. It reminded her of the night at the ball that happened a little over a month ago but felt like a millenia now; of the open porch outside the dancehall where she looked up at the stars and cried under the dim light of that dying lamp post; of how she had sworn to tell the next person who walked out that door about everything. Her joy, her agony, her doubts, her pathetic and utterly hopeless worship for this person named Im Nayeon. Thankfully, Mina was the one who found her first. She didn’t need to tell her anything because she seemed like she already knew. Not everything, but just enough to save her from hearing the drivel she might’ve spewn.

Tonight was just like that fateful night. That night when something ended and something began in her life that had changed everything. And now, she supposed, it was happening again. Something ended; something began. She might’ve told Mr. Kwon everything she was feeling right now if he had stuck around for a bit longer. He would’ve hated it. Or maybe he would pretend to be annoyed at first, but he’d listen nonetheless. Maybe he would’ve told her to toughen up and forget about that girl named Im Nayeon. Maybe he would’ve raised a point about living in that polluted city. Something about it polluting the minds of people who stay there for too long. And maybe she’d agree at first, but would simply laugh it off because she carried the same symptoms.

But Mr. Kwon went home two hours ago. It was an hour before midnight on the 21st of September, and she was sitting alone outside, gazing at the sky, at the stars - too many to count now with a hand or even a hundred. It all seemed different than the one they gazed upon in Italy. Different from the one she always tried to see back at her apartment. Different from the one she remembers at the ball. The sky now looked clearer than it had ever been before and so different that she almost believed that it was. That this was a different world or reality.

She knew better. This was the same sky back from those days. The same sky before she moved here, before she moved to the city, before her mother passed away, and before she was even born. And as she gazed at the infinite expanse that had always been there since time itself had started to move, Momo felt connected to her. To Nayeon. This was the same sky above her head right now. Even if she moved to the ends of the Earth, as far away from her as possible, they would still share this now and for all eternity. As they grow old and move on with their lives  and at some point eventually return to the soil, they would continue to share this. And the promise that nothing or no one else in this world can ever take it away from them was enough to keep the autumn chill at bay.

Momo wondered then if Nayeon was looking up at the same sky right now. Were they staring at the same spot? Would she hear her voice if she started talking? Probably not. But then if no one or nothing was going to come now and hear her out - no Mina to listen to everything she wanted to say - maybe she’d settle for the stars.

I’ve been wracking my head for the right words I wish to say to you, but I don’t think I can find them right now. Maybe they’ll come tomorrow, or next week. Maybe after a month or two. I guess I’ve never really been good with words anyway. If I was, then I imagine it wouldn’t have taken me over half a year to tell you how much you mean to me. Then again, I don’t think even a year would be enough to explain. Not even a lifetime. Not even two.

But as it stands, I don’t think I have that luxury anymore. It’s been taken from me the day I watched your cab turn and disappear around that ghost of a corner. And when you hung up the phone for the last time that morning, I don’t think you realized just how much of myself I lost in an instant. And in that moment, for the first time since we’ve met -  I resented you. I felt betrayed. As if Italy never happened between us. As if we didn’t just see the life we had before us on that empty lot by the hills. But then, not a second after, I started hating myself even more. So much more that I remembered that this whole tragedy isn’t your fault. I hated myself for having been so blind from the very start that I had failed to see the snake that was staring me in the face. Sana warned me. Mina reminded me. I didn’t listen. And now that it has bitten me, I bear the consequences.

So now I’m here, sitting by myself, some 400 miles away from you because I wanted to run away. Because I’m a coward. But in doing this, I’m also taking a step forward to some unknown road that had diverged from you. I’ve been stuck for far too long in that place and you should know that the only thing keeping me tethered there was you. Always you. Don’t you know? Didn’t you hear what my heart whispered back then in Italy? Hai il mio cuore. You have my heart. And even now I say it to you. You have my heart, Im Nayeon. Throw it away, or keep it hidden. All I ask is that you remember what we had that week. What we had for the past few months that had amounted to a lifetime I can never return to. Remember me every once in a while. Maybe for a few seconds when you drive past the theatre. Or when you decide to put on lip gloss, or maybe during one of your bike rides alone when a project becomes too stressful and you need to unwind. Just for a few seconds that might not even amount to a minute in a month or in a year. I won’t ask you for anything else because I’m too tired now. Too tired to even wish upon the millions of stars out tonight.

But maybe after everything, when we’ve moved on with our lives now and the dust has settled and the pain has been dampened. When our memories have begun to rust and fade; give me a call. I promise I won’t change my number. I promise. You say you remember it by heart. Call me as I had called you on that day before. Let me hear the voice I heard back then. We’ll talk about anything. We’ll talk about nothing. Maybe not even talk then. I’d hear the faint static buzz when you breathe because we’d both be too scared to say anything. And so maybe then in that silence would the right words come to me. The words I couldn’t say tonight that had taken so long to arrive. I don’t have them right now and I’m not sure if they’ll ever come to me someday, but I’m not stupid enough to wait for them to tell you that I love you.

I love you, Nayeon. These are the only words I know to be right. And I miss you. I miss you so much that even now, I’m still having doubts about all of this. I miss you. I love you. And you’ll have to forgive me for waiting on you just a bit longer because asking me not to would be too impossible. Maybe I’ll stop tomorrow, or next week. Maybe after a month or a year. But for now, let me grieve just a little bit longer. Let me mourn the part of myself I lost that day for a little longer. I promise I’ll stop someday. I promise.

Momo pulled on the collar of her shirt to wipe her cheeks. She checked the time. 12:03 A.M. She looked up at the stars one last time and whispered, “Happy 31st Birthday, Nayeon,” hoping they’d deliver the message.

But she remembered there were no stars in the city. And so Momo breathed in the frigid air and stood up, opening the glass doors before stepping back inside towards the warmth of the cottage.