“Stupid face with the stupid smile and the stupid hair.”

SinB, laying on the couch in her living room, stared up at her phone, eyes sharp like knives, as she flipped from picture to picture of the guy who was responsible for countless misdemeanors in their relationship which eventually resulted in her breaking up with him. Sliding her thumb across the screen, it landed on a selfie of the two of them on a date. It was at an early stage in their relationship, but he was charming enough to sneakily place a kiss on SinB’s cheek as the photo was captured. SinB scolded him, shoving him away as one does when caught off guard. But as cold as she pretended to be, she could still recall the rush of warmth that spread through her cheeks and the fluttering in her chest. 

Ding dong

SinB snapped back to her senses. She furrowed her brow at whoever the person was on the other side of her apartment door. She hadn’t ordered food, though from the slight stir in her stomach, it was about time for dinner. 

Ding dong

SinB didn’t want to move from her spot. For starters, she wanted to wallow a bit more in her depressive state. And secondly, her position on the couch was far too comfortable to even think about getting up. 

Ding dong ding dong ding dong

SinB grunted in deep aggravation. With the unwillingness of a child getting ready for school, SinB sat up, stared down at her matching gray sweatpants and sweatshirt for a moment, and ambled to the door like a zombie, phone still in hand. 

She opened the door in an abrupt swing. Her eyes naturally squinted from the lights that illuminated the hallway which contrasted with her dim apartment. But once her vision adjusted, SinB’s entire face morphed into perplexed shock at the person standing in front of her. 

“Hello, honey!” Yerin cheerfully greeted with her signature pearly white smile that seemed to compete with the hallway’s brightness. 

SinB didn’t return the pleasantries. Instead, she looked at her friend from head to toe. Yerin carried a variety of grocery bags in one hand, Mylar balloons that were decorated with characters from the cartoon show Shinbi’s Apartment in the other hand, and she wore a rainbow-striped, cone-shaped party hat on her head. 

“I brought tteokbokki, ramen, cake mix, marshmallows, potato chips, ice cream, Nutella, and tequila,” Yerin listed all in one breath, scooting past SinB and welcoming herself into the apartment. “All things necessary for a girls-night-in!” 

SinB released a disgruntled sigh as she watched Yerin set her things on the kitchen table. “I thought I made it clear in the group chat that I was going to dedicate my Friday night to moping on the couch while watching Penthouse and drowning my liver in Heineken.”

“SinB-ah, I know it’s only been three weeks since the breakup and you have the right to cope with it however and for as long as you want, but trust me when I say that this breakup calls for a celebration. The other girls believe it as well. That’s why they chose me to help you get out of your post-relationship funk.” Happily, Yerin handed SinB a balloon before continuing her business in the kitchen.

“I wonder why,” SinB remarked, punching the balloon of the cute goblin who shared the same name as her and watching it ricochet against the ceiling. 

“Probably because I’m the only single person left and the rest of them already had dates planned for this beautiful evening,” Yerin replied, storing the container of ice cream in the freezer.

“I thought you were seeing that beauty influencer,” SinB said semi-mockingly, shrouding “beauty influencer” in air quotes. 

“Yeah...,” Yerin hesitantly confirmed, voice wavering a bit as she turned to face SinB. She tried to meet her friend’s questioning eyes, but her gaze quickly fell to the countertop. “Our meetups, though, are mostly reduced to small talk over coffee and occasionally hooking up. Nothing too serious.”

SinB gave Yerin a look as if to say, “Why am I not surprised, you commitment-phobe?” 

Hastily, Yerin refocused the topic back to SinB’s predicament. “Regardless of my love life status, I would never refuse to help out one of my bestest pals.” 

SinB crossed her arms. “I suppose I could use the help,” she admitted, feeling too vulnerable for comfort. “One of the things that I learned from all of this is to never date a coworker. Each day, I try my hardest to avoid him. And each day I fail miserably because I would look up from my desk and see him straight across from me, picking up copies from the printer, or waving “hi” to the boss, or holding the door for someone. And then I would blink and realize that he was holding the door open for me. And while I drive home alone to dwell in my heartache, he goes out with his friends for drinks and acts like the past two years of our relationship didn’t even mean a thing!” 

SinB felt her phone buzz with a notification. She unlocked it to see that her ex had posted a new Instagram Story. “Speak of the devil.” She cackled dryly. “Would you look at that? He’s at the park where we used to go on picnic dates.” She flicked her thumb to view the next picture. “AND HE’S WITH HER!”

Startled, Yerin nervously asked, “Who exactly is her?”

SinB slid her phone across the counter for Yerin to see. “This fresh-faced, built like a Barbie doll intern who frequently uses aegyo to get away with her mistakes and has the entire male population of the office drooling at her feet. It’s barely been three weeks and he’s already flirting up a storm with someone who practically gave the investors a heart attack when she emailed the weekly notice stating that the company was disbanding on the 22nd when it should’ve been rebranding.” Fuming, SinB huffed and puffed, trying to resist the urge to rip her hair out. 

Yerin rushed to SinB’s side, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Alright, take a breath,” she said soothingly. “The first thing you need to do is purge all remnants of him off your phone. Unfollow and block all his social media accounts. Delete his number. Delete every text message conversation. Delete every picture of him. In fact, delete everything that reminds you of him.” She handed back the phone.

SinB made sure to take that breath first, inhaling Yerin’s cherry vanilla-scented body wash. It suddenly occurred to her how close they were huddled together. She cleared . 

“You’re right,” SinB replied, sounding much calmer than before. “If he no longer gives a damn about me, then why should I give a damn about him?” 

Stealing the party hat off Yerin’s head, SinB placed it on her own head like a soldier gearing up for battle. She marched to the living room, plopping herself on the couch. Before she had any second thoughts, SinB opened her ex’s Instagram profile and unfollowed, and subsequently, blocked. And just like that, a weight had lifted off her. For the next couple minutes, SinB complied with Yerin’s advice, tracking down and deleting anything and everything that was related to her ex. She was on a high, cleansing Mr. Stupid Face’s digital footprint off her phone. 

She was in charge. She was unstoppable. That was until she opened her Photos app. 

“How’s the progress?” Yerin asked, joining SinB on the couch with a bag of chips. 

“Good,” SinB responded, staring blankly at the screen. “I was a deleting machine a few seconds ago, and now I can barely get myself to delete a meme he sent me.”

“Photos tend to be the most difficult part of the process,” Yerin casually responded before snacking on a potato chip. 

“Seeing pictures of me and him smiling together… It’s odd to think that he once was a source of happiness in my life.” 

Yerin’s expression softened. She nudged SinB’s arm, encouraging her friend to look at her. And when SinB did, Yerin could detect the all too familiar feeling of heartache and longing in her eyes. “You know, all of us, Sowon, Eunha, Yuju, Umji, and I, we loved seeing you smile when you were around him. To know that our friend who we adored and cared for so dearly was in good hands. He was your first serious relationship, and we thought he was someone we could trust. But as your smile faded, so did our trust in him. It’s ok to reminisce about the good times you had with him, but try not to lose focus on the reasons why you decided to break up.” 

SinB let the words sink in. A sense of clarity cleared the cobwebs in her head.

“Feed me those chips,” she ordered Yerin. “I need to finish the job.” 

Rolling her neck and loosening her shoulders, SinB took one last look at the selfie of her ex kissing her cheek, tapped on the trash bin icon, and confirmed her desire to delete it. She was back in the right headspace. Operating like a computer program, she detected and eradicated all signs of her ex in her photo gallery without a moment to ponder or think about it fondly. All the while, Yerin diligently popped a chip into SinB’s mouth when cued. And whenever a strand of hair got in the way of SinB’s eyes, Yerin would delicately sweep it behind the preoccupied girl’s ear. As much as Yerin wanted to sneakily catch a glimpse of the pictures, her conscience wouldn’t allow it. But also because it was nearly impossible at the rate that SinB was deleting. Half a bag of chips later, SinB located the ‘Recently Deleted’ album and cleared it, permanently deleting over 150 pictures. 

“It’s done,” SinB spoke, turning off her phone and collapsing onto Yerin’s lap. 

“I’m proud of you,” Yerin relayed, patting SinB on the . 

“I need a break from my phone,” an exhausted SinB mumbled, holding down on the power button to turn it off. She held out her black-cased iPhone. “Keep it in that drawer over there, will you? For the remainder of the night, I’m going smartphone-free.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, as long as nothing serious like an alien invasion happens, then I think I’ll be ok.”

Yerin took the phone. “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll join you in solidarity.” 

She gently pushed SinB off of her before locating her purse and fishing out her phone. She proceeded to place the two phones into the drawer near the living room, shoving it closed with her hip. Out of sight, out of mind. 

******

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t buy an already baked cake in the first place,” SinB complained, tossing the empty box of yellow cake mix to the side. 

“You’re just bitter because you couldn’t crack an egg with one hand,” Yerin defended, pouring the batter into a baking pan. She laughed in recollection of SinB’s failed attempts that left the kitchen counter in a slimy disarray. “Besides, the instructions aren’t that complicated and it’s funner this way.”

“Funner isn’t a word,” SinB decided to play grammar police.

“Well, it should be,” Yerin refuted, pointing her batter-covered spatula at SinB who rolled her eyes only to grin a few seconds later. 

With the batter ready, SinB opened the oven door, aiding Yerin as she tiptoed to the blazingly hot cooking apparatus. Yerin squatted to the floor and placed the pan inside without the slightest spill. Once positioned, SinB closed the door, saving them from the heatwave. 

Yerin breathed out a sigh of relief, wiping the tiny beads of sweat off her brow. “How long is the bake time?” 

SinB fetched the discarded box and quickly looked over the instructions. “28 to 33 minutes. Just enough time for you to clean up the mess you made in my kitchen while I make myself s’mores.”

“Cleaning can wait until after the cake is done,” Yerin reasoned. “I kind of want to watch you make your legendary s’mores. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, my ex was a bit of a health nut. I remember when I shared one with him, he said he would have to run five miles just to burn off the calories. I thought he was joking and being overdramatic. The next morning, I saw him at the park, running those five miles.” SinB shook her head, ridding herself of the memory. 

“Anyway,” SinB restored her chipper self, “the first thing you need is a flame.” She brought out a decorative candle and a box of matches from a drawer. Striking a match, she lit the wick. The warm glow of the candle instantly created a cozier atmosphere. She glanced at Yerin whose eyes took the shape of little happy faces. SinB couldn’t help but smile back.

“Next, we prepare our ingredients.” SinB looked into her pantry, taking out a box of graham crackers. She then rummaged through the groceries that Yerin brought and picked out the bag of marshmallows and jar of Nutella. After setting them by her workstation, SinB asked her designated sous chef, Yerin, to open the items while she gathered the necessary utensils. 

With everything laid out and ready, SinB continued. “You take a graham cracker and break it in half. Now, traditionally people snap off pieces from a chocolate bar, but I prefer using Nutella. That way, the gooeyness of the marshmallow incorporates seamlessly with the gooeyness of the Nutella. No need to wait for the chocolate to melt.” SinB spread a dab of the hazelnut cocoa mixture onto one half of the graham cracker. “And now, it’s time to brûlée our marshmállow,” she said in a faux-French accent, causing Yerin to laugh. 

Grabbing a chopstick, SinB skewered a single puffy, cylindrical confectionary onto one end. She held it over the flame, rotating it every now and then to prevent the marshmallow from getting too charred. Once the mallow achieved the perfect shade of toasted brown, SinB removed it from the fire, placed it on the plain graham cracker, and sandwiched it with the Nutella-coated one. She extracted the chopstick from the marshmallow and presented it on a plate. 

“Voilà! My masterpiece is complete. Bon appétit.” Like a gracious chef, SinB bowed her head as she served it to Yerin.

Relaying a “thank you”, Yerin picked up the s’more and stared at it in wonderment. It had probably been more than two years since she last indulged in SinB’s popular late-night snack that she first introduced to the group during a slumber party when they were Freshmen in high school. Yerin contemplated whether to cram it in and eat it in one bite like she usually did, but she decided to take the more polite approach. Bits of the graham cracker crumbled back onto the plate as soon as she bit into it, and the marshmallow flattened upon impact, oozing out the sides. But the sweet and satisfying combination of flavors and textures instantly took her back to those slumber party nights where the six of them played pranks and sang and danced to IU and Big Bang songs without a care in the world. 

As she busily chewed, Yerin caught a glimpse of SinB who was clearly anticipating some sort of reaction. Though she had absolutely no idea how to say ‘delicious’ in French, Yerin went with the closest alternative word she knew in her foreign language arsenal. 

“Oishi!” she cheered, eyes curling into crescents as she gave a thumbs up. 

Confused yet amused, SinB chuckled with knitted eyebrows. She shook her head and grabbed the uneaten portion of the s’more from Yerin who playfully whined in response. Like Yerin, it had also been a long time since SinB last gorged on a s’more. Though she wasn’t the type to let other people’s opinions get the best of her, she oftentimes fell victim to her ex’s criticisms to the point where she would disengage with the things that brought her joy (for example, the s’more that was mere centimeters away from ). As soon as the s’more embraced her taste buds, SinB felt a sense of liberation dawn upon her. Gone now were the days of her ex’s incessant calorie counting and lecturing her about the latest diet trend they should try. His thoughts, considerations, suggestions that used to guilt-trip SinB no longer took up valuable space in her psyche. 

“Oh, you know what would make this s’more even more delectable?” Yerin prefaced it with a snap of her fingers. “If we added the strawberry ice cream I brought. It’ll be like a new take on Neapolitan desserts.”

SinB gasped. “That. Is. GENIUS!”

SinB rushed to the freezer to get the ice cream while Yerin searched for a spoon. The pair then prepared two more s’mores; Yerin tasked herself with spreading the Nutella and SinB expertly roasted the marshmallows. They assembled the sweet treat in the same manner but before topping it off with the plain graham cracker, they dolloped on a spoonful of pink strawberry ice cream onto the marshmallow. 

Being the s’more connoisseur that she is, SinB decided to try their creation first. She picked it up, awkwardly holding the toppling mass of sugary ingredients. Biting into it, the mixture of flavors went together like a symphony on her palate. But as tasty as it was, it also prompted quite a mess on her counter. Swiftly, she set the s’more down on a plate, her fingers now coated in the melted remains of the ice cream. 

“Damn, I forgot to buy more paper towels,” SinB said, searching through drawers for a washcloth or extra napkins provided from her past food deliveries. Anything to clean off the stickiness from her hand. 

SinB decided to give up the search. She was about to turn and wash her hands in the sink when suddenly she felt something wet attach to her index finger. Slowly, her gaze traveled from the chaotic counter to the half-eaten s’more to her friend the melted ice cream off her fingers, one by one. 

Unable to say a word or move a muscle, all SinB could do at that moment was watch, mystified, as Yerin engulfed her middle finger. The coldness of the ice cream fusing with the warmness of Yerin’s mouth left SinB stunned. Her heartbeat picked up speed and there was a certain kind of heat spreading in the pit of her stomach. Yerin’s movements were gentle; her tongue gingerly glided against the skin of SinB’s finger with minimal pressure. But once the older girl reached back up to the fingertip, she seemed to nip on it as if placing a chaste kiss before moving on to the next finger. The heat began to quickly expand to other areas of SinB’s body while her imagination ran lustfully. When Yerin was finished, she looked up at SinB with an ironically innocent smile. 

“Wh-why did you do that?” SinB spoke, desperately trying to keep herself composed. 

“I didn’t want the ice cream to go to waste,” Yerin answered like it was a normal and justifiable thing to do.

Expressionless, SinB nodded, staring solely at her hand as she was incapable of maintaining eye contact with her friend. “Well, great. Now I have Yerin germs all over my fingers.”

“You say that like it’s the first time,” Yerin mused coquettishly. 

With her head lowered, SinB briskly pivoted to the sink and the faucet, giving her the chance to cleanse her hands and hide the fact that her face had turned a bright shade of crimson.