It was stupid. Out of all the days that their OIC could have had his birthday it unfortunately fell on a Thursday. A working day. Almost everyone inside the office cheered when their boss announced that their hours for today would be cut short while still being paid for the whole day.

But not her.

Shorten office hours means more time for her to think, to feel. She didn't want that. She tried hard to evade everything out with sleep but it never works for her. Instead of taking her mind off of things, the sweet escape of unconsciousness never comes to claim her whenever she needed it the most. Rather it results to her thoughts wandering everywhere; down memory lane and her every day life scenario.

She's guessing that most of her co-workers have either went home early or took a detour to the malls nearby their office. Languishing the free remaining hours of the day to its full extent. But then again, not her.

Instead of finding her way back to their house, her legs brought her to one of the busiest place in the city. With her messenger bag hanging on her thin shoulder, she methodically dodge the sea of people on the way until her eyes finally landed on an empty bench.

Removing her bag on her worn body, she then carefully placed it on her lap before checking her watch. Ten minutes before four in the afternoon. Too early to go back to their house and too early to go to sleep.

Damn. She internally cursed out when she found her coat pocket empty of the e-cigarette that she usually brings whenever she's talking a break, a walk or on the ride back to their house.

She breathed loudly multiple times to settle her thoughts out. Assuring herself that it was fine. It was just one mishap. All was still well.

Having a few minutes to herself, she finally shifted her focus on the endless waves of people coming in. The chattering, the explosion of colors, the variation of faces and ages somehow calms her down.

In the midst of everything she unknowingly started counting the heads of the ones entering the panelled glass doors. Occupying her and keeping her busy at the same time.

Three hundred seventy-eight...

Three hundred ninety-six...

Four hundred and five...

Four hundred eleven...

Her eyes immediately squinted when she spot out the new comer who just slid in her card. She couldn't be wrong. She would have recognized that face even in her sleep. Jimin.

With hurried steps and an obvious destination the woman in her casual tight fitting jeans with her white t-shirt tucked in neatly crossed the distance in record time.

"Ningning ratted me out." She greeted the breathless woman whose hands were resting on her knees, heaving deeply each second for air. But despite all of these, a smile was still plastered on her lips as if the beads of sweat running down on the sides of her face wasn't bothering her a bit.

"Of course she did." The woman breathed out before standing straight and finally taking the seat beside her. A few minutes passed by before she opened again. "So...train station?"

Minjeong scanned the place one more time. "Lots of people coming in and out. My senses  are occupied."

Jimin's eyebrows knit in confusion. She lightly shifted her upper body to face Minjeong. "I thought you don't like being around a ton of people?"

"Not exactly." Minjeong shrugs. Her eyes trained on the new batch of passengers filling up the train. "Being around them is fine. But interacting with them and having conversations are different things."

Jimin hums in understanding. This was a new development for the younger one who back then wouldn't hesitate to voice out that she hated being around people.

She took her time to take in the appearance of her companion. Her bag was surely a little too big for her frame. Her fingers kept on fiddling the latch of her bag and the bottom end of her coat. Something was amiss.

"What happened today? How are you?"

Minjeong wanted to shout, to cry, to curl up into a tiny ball and refrain from existing. Oh how she loathed that question for she never knew how to answer it. 

Such a mundane question, a casual conversation opener yet she never had an honest answer for it. How could she when a spill of emotions would flood ? When a spoonful of anxiety is always at the back of threatening to gush out once she finished explaining the complexity of her thoughts? How could she when words aren't enough to convey the things that fill her worried mind and weary heart?

"I'm not exactly certain." She answers instead but she knew that Jimin could see through her words just by the way she looks at her. It's the look that never pushes, never asks for more.

"I just..." She try to start once more. A feel of sudden guilt rising up .

Jimin scoots a little. "You're sad, lonely?" Her eyes following the rails that the train just took.

"For the longest time." Minjeong admitted. Jimin was sitting so close to her that she felt  and heard the sigh that her friend let out.

"You haven't told me that."

A ghost of a smile fleeted across Minjeong's lips. "Of course I wouldn't. I don't want to burden you."

Hazel eyes meet dark ones. "Or anyone else for that matter." Minjeong continues bef