As the wedding date dreadingly crept closer and closer, I melted more and more into a pile of helpless nerves.

Jessica flipped through a magazine nonchalantly, her legs femininely crossed and her eyes glued to the pages. "Do you think this dress is prettier than the one we chose, YoonA?" she showed me the flawlessly designed wedding dress on page 34. "It has a much shorter train, but it looks a lot more elegant, right? The embroidery is so intricate. Just look at that design!"

I shrugged. "It's pretty. But the one we bought is nice too." I fiddled around with my laptop, struggling to type down Jessica's name on the computerized sketch of the wedding invitations. We were running late on getting these made and sent out, so my mother, the mother that thinks that I can't get anything done right so she and Jessica arranged every part of the wedding with Mrs. Xi without me, ordered me to get them designed by the end of the week so we can print them off and send them to their recipients soon. Typing was never really my forte. Actually, I was never very handi with computers in general. But there's no way that I'd expected Umma to know that about me. I didn't hesitate to listen when she told me to do this. She and Jessica had planned out every other part of the wedding, so I might as well put myself to use in one way or another.

"I thought the one we got was nice too, but maybe I was just interested in it because the train was really long. It'll make a bride feel more, I don't know, grand? But this dress right here, it's like a princess's gown. I'd feel so royal if I was in this thing!"

"Oh?" I said, half listening as I pushed my reading glasses up higher on my nose.

"Do you like this dress?"

"Sure."

"Do you think Umma will return the one we bought and order this one if I ask her real nicely?"

I looked at my sister with wide eyes, just to find that she was gazing back at me with hopeful ones. Even at this late at night with pajamas on and after-shower hair, she still looked as gorgeous as ever. "The one that you guys bought the other was nice, Unnie," I reassured her.

Jessica pouted, looking back to the dress in the magazine. "Yeah, but this one is nicer! I mean, look at the pearls!" She shoved the little booklet in my face, making me jerk back a little while getting a waft of the perfume she'd rubbed on her arm for testing on one of the earlier pages.

I pushed it away lightly, sighing at my meticulous sister. "The pearls are pretty, but the other dress has it's own kind of elegance too."

"It's not like this one though!" Jessica argued. "And look! This one is the first wedding dress that Yatsumi Aya designed! It took three years to perfect. The one we bought was made by Jaucy Rei and it only took a few months to design." Yatsumi Aya and Jaucy Rei are Jessica's two favorite Japanese designer brands. She purchases many things from both companies but Yatsumi Aya is her absolute favorite (probably because it costs a little more).

"But it still costed a fortune. And this one costs even more!" I grimaced at the amount written in the magazine article.

"So?"

"It took Umma weeks just to agree to the other one!"

"Because that other one wasn't as pretty as this one!" She flashed a charming smile and held up the picture of the dress again.

I pushed it away once more. "Just because the Jaucy Rei dress isn't as expensive or flashy as this one doesn't mean that this dress is any better." I turned back to the computer and triedto finish up my work, continually talking as I did so. "Everything has its own beauty. Yatsumi Aya is preferred by many, but there are many qualities of the Jaucy Rei dress that I like, like the lace and the silk train. The one that you like is nice, and it has its own sets of qualities. But to me, the Jaucy Rei will do."

That shut Jessica up, I concluded, because she crossed her legs with a childish huff and turned the page of the magazine. Finally. Some peace and quiet.

I continued to type, but, to my surprise, my mind didn't stop pondering about that Yatsumi Aya dress. In my mind, I was comparing the two dresses. Was I too harsh to reject Jessica's offer the moment she suggested it? Maybe the Yatsumi Aya dress would look better on me. Though the Jaucy Rei dress was expensive and no doubt flawlessly made, it can't even compare to the stitchwork that Yatsumi Aya provides. But if that is so, why was I so quick to say no? Why didn't I give Jessica a chance to see how the dress would look in person?

The situation ran deeper than just the quality of a brand name's style of dress. I couldn't admit it to Jessica, but I knew that we couldn't just take in the Yatsumi Aya dress after we already agreed on the Jaucy Rei one. Yatsumi Aya was prettier, it was more elegant, it was more expensive, it was more intriguing, it was more beautiful, it was more detailed. . . But a dress is a dress, and what matters is how a person wears it. Jaucy Rei will not be forgotten just because Yatsumi Aya is better, I decided. Just because Yatsumi Aya is better doesn't mean Jaucy Rei isn't any good.

Just because Jessica is better doesn't mean YoonA isn't any good.

*

"Luhan. . . " I started, not really sure where I was going to go with my thought.

"Hmm?" He sighed next to me, his gaze on the wide open sky.

It took me a moment to piece my thoughts together and rearrange them into words. But Luhan was patient, as always. "Do you like Jessica?" The question didn't seem to surprise him. He seemed nonchalant, as if it wasn't something he would normally think about.

"She seems. . . " He trailed off, not sure of what to say. "Happy."

I chuckled at his honesty. "That's because she is." I stood up from my place next to him on the bench and made my way toward the playground, where the swings were. "But I meant do you like her, as in, do you like her?" I sat on the first swing while Luhan followed me and sat in the one beside me.

He tilted his head, his eyes still on the evening sky. "I have nothing against her."

"But you like her?"

"I suppose." He smiled at me, probably not sure what to say. He had large deer eyes that reminded me of my own. They made him look child-like, cute. Anyone who looks at Luhan would think of him to be younger than he actually is if it weren't for his height. I wondered if this is how people saw me with my large eyes, like a kid. Maybe that's why no one ever takes me seriously. "She's a decent person."

I sighed, not sure how I should rephrase my question so he'd understand my query. "Well, yeah," I started, "she's awesome. But I meant do you like like her, like, you want her."

"Oh." He shifted his gaze to his feet, surprise written all over his face. He probably didn't think he'd ever have to answer this question, though many think that Jessica and Luhan would be perfect for each other. They're the ideal couple in this neighborhood. "I don't know how I'm supposed to answer that."

My heart dropped. Luhan doesn't know how to answer my question. That doesn't mean that he likes her, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't like her either. And since he is confused on how to answer, his feelings are probably mixed together, maybe a little bit of both. Or maybe he does like her, so he doesn't want to deny it, but he's too shy to admit it. I bit my lower lip, trying to think of a way to help him come to a conclusion. "Well, do you think of her as attractive?"

"Yes." Of course.

"Do you like her personality?"

"Yes." Everyone does.

"So, you think she is attractive inside out?"

He had that dazed look in his eyes again, as if he was thinking. "I guess you can say that." I guess I guess I guess. Nothing was ever solid with Luhan. He was always unsure of how he felt.

"So do you see her as a friend. . . or a woman?"

"Well. . . " He started to pat the woodchips with his shoe. "I did have a crush on her a few years back," he admitted, which I found brave. It was hard to think that the infamous Xi Luhan would be as nervous as right now, scratching the back of his neck and not meeting my eyes. So he did like Jessica, and she makes him nervous. Great.

"When was this?"

"Around freshman year, I think."

"How long did it last?"

". . . Three years?" It came out sounding more like a question than an answer, which is why I didn't fully believe it.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

*

I tried to snap as many shots of Luhan as I could, playing photographer.I stood on a balcony way above him, aiming a blue digital camera right at him. I wanted to have memories of this, of him on his graduation day giving his valedictorian speech. I wanted to be able to dig out old pictures of Luhan years from now and remember how young and handsome he looked in his blue and white robe and hat. It was no surprise that he became valedictorian. Everyone had expected Mr. Popular Pretty-Boy Xi Luhan to stand on that podium and outsmart his classmates with his intelligence. He was the only child from the wealthiest family around, of course they'd make sure their son was well educated.

But today, though I had expected him to be happy about graduation, Luhan seemed. . . upset. He was always a cheerful person, charismatic and charming. He could charm anyone, especially those darn girls that seemed to exist in every class that always squirm and squeal at every little move he makes. Without trying, he could steal the hearts of strangers with just the shape of his shy smile.

Why. . . why did he look so gloomy today? Everyone has bad days, but why today? Why hadn't he smiled for even a split second since he got to the podium? Even though his speech sounded well-thought out and nicely written, he spoke in a drab, monotone manner, as if he was forced to read it from a boring textbook rather than it being his own words. Luhan was annoyed, I could tell, anyone could, but why didn't he at least pretend to be okay? Why would he let his gloomy demeanor show in front of his entire class and teachers, parents and friends? This is Luhan's last impression that he would leave here in this high school, and he chooses to act like this? What is up with that boy?

No matter, I took as many pictures as I could, trying not to feel troubled by his gloomy expression.

Luhan was nearing the end of his speech as he gave the crowd a sad gaze. He had practiced this speech with me multiple times at the park, so I could recognize his ending sentences. He took a short pause as he eyed the student body seated in front of him. I like to think that at that exact moment, he was searching for my eyes. Maybe for comfort, maybe for a friendly face, or just because he wanted to be looking at me at the second. I looked at him, wishing I had enough guts to be seated on the bleachers with Jessica and the rest of my family along with his family as well. I wish I could still face him after what happened yesterday.

The memory caused my hand to go up to cup my cheek, only to pull away quickly. The slight sting made the bruise on my cheekbone throbbed and I winced slightly. I touched it again, softer this time, as if to comfort my face. It had been hurting all day long.

When I looked bad down to the podium, Luhan was already making his way back to his seat and the crowd was cheering wildly for their most beloved valedictorian. I cursed myself for not paying enough attention to take some pictures of him on his way to his seat.

After a few more snapshots and what seemed like a million names being called up to collect diplomas, the crowd had cheered once again, and the students dispersed to find their families and friends. Luhan made his way over to our families, his head drooping a little. His mother was crying and his father patted his back lovingly. I could almost make out my parents' voices congratulating Luhan in a worried manner, as if they were ashamed. Why shouldn't they be? Their daughter just ruined some of the most important plans for his family, they have every right to feel wrong and dishonored. I snapped a nice shot as Jessica gave Luhan a bear hug with a bundle of balloons in her hand. I could feel my heart break some more, but I held the camera steady all the same.

Luhan must've needed to use th restroom or something because after just a few seconds of meeting up with our families, he made his way to the exit, leaving the rest standing there.

I sighed, dropping my hand that held the camera down to my side. I turned around and slowly walked deeper into the hallway, looking at the pictures that I'd just taken of him. I was thankful that everyone was downstairs in the gymnasium and meeting with their families, so that no one but I was in this hallway upstairs. It felt nice to have some privacy with my precious pictures of this beautiful half-Chinese half-Korean boy. I smiled to myself as I saw the gloomy face he made the entire time while giving the speech, a pain reaching my cheek for my negligence. But I ignored the sharp pressure I felt and continued looking at Luhan, my Luhan.

I suddenly heard a rustling sound beind me, as if someone was waving a cape at a bull. Before I could turn around and see what caused the noise, I felt a hand turn me around and shove me against a locker, causing a loud THUD as my body smashed against the metal and the clanging of my camera hitting the ground.

"IM YOONA!" A red-faced Luhan was inches away from my face, screaming from the top of his lungs. I was grateful that the hallway we were in was deserted, or else all attention would be on us. "WHY WOULD YOU MAKE SUCH A RASH DECISION WITHOUT EVEN CONSENTING WITH ANYONE BEFOREHAND?! DO YOU THINK THAT THIS ARRANGEMENT WAS ALL UP TO YOU?! ARE YOU THAT SELFISH TO MAKE DECISIONS ON YOUR OWN WITHOUT WORRYING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLES' OPINIONS AS WELL?! DO YOU THINK EVERYTHING REVOLVES AROUND YOU?! WHY ARE YOU SO. . . what happened to your face?"

My eyes were cast to the ground, too ashamed to even meet his eyes. He was angry, bewildered even. He was yelling, and he had a right to be yelling. But it scared me, no, it terrified me, because Luhan. . . Luhan never raised his voice. He never shouted, he never yelled, he never got louder than his normal tone. He usually didn't have to either, because no matter how noisy a room is, everyone would hold up their chatter and give their attention to Xi Luhan if he had something to say. It was like a rule, a secret law that everyone knew. But now. . . not even calm Luhan can keep in his anger. Luhan hates me. He hates me. I'm probably the first person he's ever screamed at, I'm the first person who's ever given him a need to shout like this. He hates me, he hates me, he hates me. . . Wait. Did he just ask me about my face? "Uh. . . ," was all I could squeak out.

I got enough courage to look at his face, which, to my surprise was filled with what seemed like worry. His hand slowly made its way to my cheek, and I, in all my stupidity, did not bother to stop him. I flinched slightly at his touch, making his retreat, only to bring it back to my face with a softer touch. It still hurt a little, but I didn't dare stop him. "What happened to your face?" he repeated, but with a much more gentle tone. I could see the worry in his eyes increase.

"I. . . I just. . . nothing." I lowered my eyes again, not wanting to lie while staring directly into his porcelain face.

"Don't lie to me," he said in a firm tone, a tone that seemed authoritive yet pitiful somehow.

I considered telling the truth, not even wanting to attempt to create a fictional story for him. "My. . . my father might've punished me a little. . . for what happened yesterday." My voice got softer as I spoke, almost too ashamed to make a noise even though both him and I knew what had taken place yesterday.

"He's the cause of your bruises. . . " It was more of a statement than a question, but I nodded my head anyway, signalling that he was correct.

I could feel his sigh as he backed away from me, relieving me by putting some more space between us and some room to breathe, though it was ironic because I know that what I needed the most at that moment was for someone to be by right by my side, someone like Luhan.

There it was again. The silence that always seemed to find its way in to our conversations. The silence that was never uncomfortable, but, at the moment, also seemed so far from ease.

I wondered what was going through Luhan's mind at the moment. What was he thinking of me? Did he despise me at the moment? That was a dumb and easy to answer question. I feel stupid for even questioning it. Though Luhan was undoubtably angry, I couldn't help but sense some softness in his eyes, care, affection. . . pity. I wondered to myself if I should be glad that he's feeling sorry for me. It made me feel a sense of ease to know that he cared enough to feel bad for me. Or should I be feeling ashamed? Should I try to hide my face from him like I've been doing, so that he won't have to lay eyes on the mockery that I've become? I couldn't help but think that my bruises made me look deformed somehow. I wasn't beautiful enough for his eyes to set upon, I was too sick and ugly of a creature for him to burden his view with, I wasn't enough, as always. And now I know I never will be.

"I'm sorry," I spoke first, deciding that I might as well just get everything straight now. The sooner we say goodbye, the sooner I can go home and cry in my bed. "I know it was an impudent decision, and I should've gotten your input before I delved into it. But. . . I just. . . I just-"

"YoonA-"

"I just didn't know how to face you," I admitted bitterly. I didn't want it to be like this, no. I didn't want to ever have to apologize to him, and that meant explaining myself. I didn't have to tell him my reasons, but I knew Luhan deserved more than the cold shoulder. He didn't deserve to be left without a reason. He didn't deserve to be mistreated, unappreciated, lonely. He didn't deserve to be abandoned. He didn't deserve to be like me. And now, as I stand here and make myself look like a cowardly fool before him, I decided to apologize, I decided to let down my pride, for once, and say sorry. I decided to watch my dignity fall, because it is for someone I love. It's for him. "I didn't want to argue with you, and I didn't want you to feel like. . . like. . . "

"Like what?"

"Like I was abandoning you." It is now that I realize my voice is shaking, and I inwardly cursed myself for not being as strong as I made myself to be.

Luhan backed again a few steps, bitterly chuckling to himself and looking around at the walls and lockers that surrounded us. "Even though you didn't talk to me about it, I still feel abandoned," he said quietly, causing my heart to shatter into a million and one pieces, as if it weren't already. "Actually," he added, catching my gaze once again, "I feel more abandoned now than I probably would have if you would've told me." His eyes looked gloomily at me, a tinge of anger still lurking in their depths. "I just. . . " He ran a hand through his neatly combed hair, making it all tousled and natural-looking. It made me smile, remembering that this is the Luhan that I know and love, the Luhan that usually didn't let his mother use hair cream to style his hair and let it run wild in it's bronze tone. "I just want to know what I did wrong, YoonA."

What he did wrong. What. He. Did. Wrong. No, Luhan, you didn't do anything wrong. You can't do anything wrong. You're perfect. You should know that by now. "W-what?" I stuttered. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He let out another bitter laugh. "Don't play games with me right now, YoonA, I think you've had your fair share of fun. If I didn't do anything wrong, why did you decide to leave, and not answer my calls all night? Why did you call off our marriage and decide to just ignore me?!" He sounded riled up now, like he could let his fist make contact with my face at any moment. It's not as if I was scared of Luhan. I actually felt more safe around him now than I'd ever feel around anyone else. But I didn't want the lockers behind me to get an ugly dent, and I especially didn't want Luhan to get hurt in any way.

I found it hard to answer him, though I knew full well of my intentions and I could probably explain myself in full detail to anyone else. But the thing is, this is Luhan. This is him, this is him, this is him. "Luhan. . . " I started, unsure of how to finish.

He staredat me intently, patiently waiting for me to conjure up an answer in my boggled mind. "I. . . " I hesitated. "I didn't think I was good enough for you." My confession caused him to stumble back a little, a surprised look on his face.

"What?"

"You said it yourself, right? That you liked Jessica Unnie for the longest time, and you only stopped liking her this year, when I came along. And you think she's pretty. That's what you and Unnie have in common. Everyone admires you both, adore you both, like you both. They think you both are good-looking, and would be the perfect couple. I didn't want to get in the way.You guys really would be better together than you and I. Just ask anyone around school, they'd agree too. My parents were going to offer Unnie as your wife first. But they love her too much to force her into marrying someone, so they offered me instead. But I figured that Unnie will do anything as long as our parents are happy, so I just told them that I didn't wanna marry you last night, and Jessica can have you. I got him, but I thought it was worth it, because I thought you'd be happy. And-"

My words stopped when his mouth pressed against mine. I stared at Luhan with wide eyes, my heart feeling as if it could bounce out of my chest any minute. His eyes were closed, and even though my lips were still, his were dancing upon mine in an addictive, alluring movement. Luhan was a strange boy. He'd be yelling at me one minute and then kissing me another. Wait. Luhan is kissing me. He is kissing me, he is kissing me, he is kissing me, HE. IS. KISSING. ME.

I closed my eyes and shaped my lips to the curves of his. I didn't care anymore. I had held the pieces together for so long, trying to do what I thought was best for Luhan. I wanted to let him go, because I loved him. . . Because Jessica Unnie said that love is selfless. But here Luhan is, kissing me with all the passion that I thought his lips could conjure. I let go of trying to shape his future for him, I let go of trying to do what's best for him.

Luhan knows what is best for him, and I will trust him to take care of himself. To take care of us.

Our lips parted as he rested his forehead on mine, finally opening his eyes and staring straight into the windows of my soul. I ignored the throbbing bruises on my face that cried out in pain the moment his face touched mine. Luhan was more important than them. "Does it really matter what they think?" he asked in a quiet tone, giving me shivers and warmth at the same time. "You're mine and I'm yours. Why pull anyone else in our relationship?

I don't know when, but Luhan's arms had found their way around my waist, so I put mine around his neck to pull him closer, my most comforting way to apologize.

"How do you expect me to live a happy life with Jessica when she's not even the one I want?" I hadn't realized I'd been crying until he brushed a hand against my cheek to wipe away the tears, stinging my bruises once again. His touch softened when I winced. "Look at you. You can't even stay a day without getting hurt. And you tell me I should be go off and marry someone else. Then who else is going to take care of you, huh? Who else will stay behind and take care of you? Jessica can take care of herself. Do you really expect me to feel comfortable with leaving you behind like that?"

I didn't say a word, I was content with listening. Small teardrops dripped from his eyes down his face as I found my reflection in his pupils.

"Even though we didn't vow to spend the rest of our lives together yet, I'd already made that promise in my heart, YoonA," he continued. "And I thought you had too. You can't just expect me to leave. I can't, and I won't. I won't." With that, his lips met mine again, and I responded immediately this time.

I hadn't intended to hurt Luhan. I had only wanted to benefit him. Or maybe that was only an excuse to hide the pathetic thought that I wasn't good enough for him. And to me, I'm still not good enough for him, and I never will be. I don't deserve his kisses, or his intimacy, or his love. I didn't deserve to spend the rest of my life for such an angel of a man.

But Luhan had chosen me. For the first time in my life, someone had chosen me. Luhan is a smart guy. I don't doubt him one bit. And if he thinks I'm enough, then I'm enough. For the first time, I'm good enough for someone, the perfect someone.

I'm so sorry! It's been like, 3 months since my last update on this story! Oh, how busy I've been -____- but I shouldn't be hiding behind these excuses. So basically, YoonA tells her parents that she does not want to marry Luhan anymore, because she is trying to do what Jessica said about being selfless when it comes to love. She thinks she is not good enough for him. Because of this, her parents became angry, beat her, and then told Sica to marry him instead. On his graduation day, she comes to see him, but she hides so he will not notice. Too bad he did, and they cleared the misunderstandings and yeah, happily ever after (: hehe. Sorry it's a crappy chapter. BTW, I'm not sure if I still want to write PAYPHONE, for all you Payphone subscribers. Hrm.. What do you guys think? Should I start a different story and forget about it? Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this short story. Chuuuuu~<3333