A muted anticipation engulfed the room, invading through the pores of the walls. Soonbok sat idly with her body facing Taeyeon yet not quite staring at the girl. Taeyeon sifted in her seat, shrinking ever so slightly into herself. Her back was slouched and her legs tucked tightly under the chair. Meanwhile, her hands were interlocked securely together, leaving no opening unshielded. Despite the evident barrier, Soonbok remained unperturbed. She silently sipped her tea and stared out the window, enjoying the warm embrace of the sun.

Seeing the girl’s demeanour, Taeyeon found herself loosening too, her body instinctively imitating and reflecting Soonbok’s open physicality. Taeyeon her dry lips. Her previously dull eyes now emanated clear conflict and uncertainty. They were comrades who fought together through hours upon hours of arduous shifts, handling wave after wave of uncontrollable patients, sifting through layers of paperwork. However, it is exactly this shared experience that was preventing Taeyeon from verbalising her struggles for Soonbok to hear. Taeyeon was the responsible and dutiful one. She was a few years older and therefore should be setting an example to the younger nurses. As a frontline worker, she had to show her brave and strong side. How could she let her vulnerable self emerge and worry those around her?

Maybe Taeyeon was not as good at hiding her true emotions as she had assumed. Maybe Soonbok was just that good at reading other people. Maybe everything had just been held in for too long. Soonbok exhaled softly and offered Taeyeon a subdued yet encouraging smile. No words were spoken yet before Taeyeon became fully aware, her lips had parted and an avalanche of buried thoughts and emotions poured out with no intention of ceasing.

“You were born for this job Soonbok,” Taeyeon whispered helplessly. “You truly were born for this job. You’re always so confident and strong regardless of what’s thrown your way. Seeing you every day thriving at what you do, I am happy for you. I really am but… I am so so envious and so so jealous of you too. Then I’d get drowned in shame for feeling this way. I’m despicable aren’t I? And so weak.”

Soonbok remained silent, opting to be an active listening ear instead, giving space and time for Taeyeon’s voice to finally be heard. Meanwhile, with each syllable that rolled along Taeyeon’s tongue, her voice gained momentum and strength. What commenced as hushed confessions was now transforming into a firm declaration. Finally realising that she was allowed to express her honest thoughts without being judged, Taeyeon found herself unable to stop.

“I thought I failed as a nurse. I spent so many years dedicating myself to this job and yet I was overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure anymore if this was the right path for me. But I was unable to catch a break even when at home. Every second spent with my parents were a horrible reminder that I was failing my filial duties — I’m getting old and yet still no marriage prospects, let alone bearing a child. If I can’t fulfil my role as daughter, and I can’t be a good nurse, then what is the point of living?” Taeyeon inhaled sharply but gave no repose as she resumed her speech. “And how could I possibly complain about my struggles when you and Jongin go through what I do and have no issues? I know logically what I’m saying can be countered so easily but…”

“It’s easier said than done.” Soonbok finished the sentence while giving Taeyeon an encouraging nod to continue.

“It’s easier said than done,” Taeyeon echoed. “But the thoughts of shame, guilt, fear, desperation wouldn’t leave me alone. I was scare to be left alone with my own mind. I was scared. I was so so so ing scared.”

By now Taeyeon had broken out into a sobbing mess. Her whole body shook under the weight of her previously bottled up emotions. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut yet crocodile tears still pushed their way through. Soonbok leaned over and held Taeyeon’s hand. She squeezed it gently as reminder to the older girl that she was not alone — not now, not ever. Taeyeon finally had the opportunity to unleash everything she had been holding back. Her tears now were part of the process, a detox whereby she would cleanse her body of all the negativity and hopelessness.

It was unclear how much time passed but to Taeyeon it felt like she had been crying for an eternity. Her body had now stopped shaking and was drained of all fluids. The dried tears made her skin feel horribly dry. Nonetheless, she was enveloped with a sense of liberation. When was the last time she had such a long and unrestrained cry? Clearly it had been long overdue. Seeing that Taeyeon had regained some composure, Soonbok nodded to herself and asked one simple question.

“How do you feel now in this very moment?”

Hearing this, Taeyeon finally raised her head and stared Soonbok directly in the eyes. The girl was still fatigue-ridden and pale, yet there was an unmistakable spark in her eyes.

“Relieved,” Taeyeon exhaled with a tender smile. “Relieved that I’m still alive. Relieved to have finally spoken about all this. Relieved that I have you as a friend.”

“Oh you should be.” Soonbok smiled with her teeth on full display. “Being friends with me is a huge privilege.”

Taeyeon chuckled along with Soonbok’s jest-infused comment. Now it was her holding onto Soonbok’s hand and giving it an unyielding squeeze.

“Thank you. For finding me. For not giving up on me. And please tell Sehun I’m sorry,” Taeyeon spoke with honesty, “he must’ve been traumatised.”

“You have nothing to apologis