I sat on the bed in my dark and seemingly gloomy bedroom, hearing all sorts of playful noises from outside. There was laughing, high-pitched squeals and talking. It was probably just the other girl group members, mucking around together and playing just like children would. Although, they definitely weren't children. Not anymore anyway. I smiled slightly, hearing more of the giggles and laughter. At least they were happy. At least they had enough strength to smile tomorrow. I on the other hand, definitely did not. After all, my strength had already disappeared.

Why you ask?

Simply because I spent the whole day faking smiles and forcing laughter for the man I love so much,

And the man who doesn't love me back.

Yes, it's true. I have fallen in love with someone. I never knew this type of love could feel so good and sweet, even though people around me have told me over and over again of the sensation. But the thing I hated most was that the person I fell in love with didn't return my feelings. For I, a member of a girl group, fell for the maknae of another boy group. You should know who I'm talking about. The maknae of the largest boy group in Korea, the legendary Super Junior. Yes, somehow, I fell in love with the so-called evil maknae of Super Junior, Cho Kyuhyun.

Yes, I fell in love with the perfect and untouchable Cho Kyuhyun.

I really don't know whether it is a blessing or a curse to have fallen with Kyuhyun oppa of all people. For the love I felt for Kyuhyun oppa was new and felt good. Well, for the first part anyway. Soon, after I realised Kyuhyun oppa would never be mine, my heart began to sting as if it were being burnt by some sort of candle. When Kyuhyun oppa gives me another one of those breath-taking smiles, I feel as if the world is heaven. But the moment Kyuhyun oppa turns to her and gives her one of those loving gazes, it begins to hurt once again.

I already knew, she, Kyuhyun oppa's beautiful girlfriend was a better fit for him then I could ever be. Not once was I able to benefit him in anyway. But she, her, the person who I envied from a safe distance, could take care of him so easily.

When he cried, she would dry his tears. So much more different then from me who would quietly wait for his tears to dry.

When his world was falling apart, she would help to pick up the pieces. So much more different from me who would silently watch as his world was destroyed.

When he was drowning in darkness, she would take his hand and rescue him from it without any hesitation. So much more different from me who would watch him in pain.

Sometimes, I question whether I should keep this love or throw it away. But of course, it was only a passing thought. I can't just throw away love, no-one could do that so easily. I stood up from my bed and gazed into the mirror in front of it. I knew already, I definitely wasn't at all ugly. Many people have already told me that I am one of the most beautiful people they've ever seen. But, I don't care for beauty. Once in my life, I did care. When people would compliment me on my looks, I felt ever so happy. But now, after hearing it so much, it simply stung like a needle. What was the use of beauty to me now? I don't want beauty, I want Kyuhyun oppa. To be honest, I didn't want my looks. In fact, I wish they were completely different. I wish my features were just like hers. Why you ask? Because I'm desperate for him to love me.

There was nothing wrong with my appearance, it was fine.

In fact, my appearance was considered to be much better than others.

But still, I didn't want this appearance.

I knew already, my face wasn't ugly.

But my face simply wasn't hers.

As I stared in the mirror, I let my hand trail over my features. The features I had were quite pretty, many people have already told me of how much they envied me. And whenever they say that, I question whether they are envious of my appearance or of my life. My appearance was not the best, but put in a higher rank of society. No, I am not saying I am beautiful. I'm just saying society has labelled me something that has no meaning. The word beauty has no meaning. It would be understandable if they were envious of my appearance. After all, the mask over my feelings is always worn well. My life on the other hand isn't as great. To tell the truth, I don't want my life. It hurts to have my life. After all, being in love with a person who loves me not is absolute anguish. If only I were here. I never thought that love was wrong, but I never thought that love would hurt me as much as it has.

I have a question for Kyuhyun oppa.

Didn't it used to be me who stood there?

Didn't it used to be me who you gazed at so lovingly?

Didn't it used to be me who you took care of?

Not anymore I guess.

From a faint memory, I can kind of remember the times when Kyuhyun oppa would give me the same smile he's giving her all the time. I remember, when we were all just trainees and rookies striving towards the same dream, he would take care of me. Before, in the past, I was the one that would walk by his side. But then again, I don't know what the point of this memory is. After all, nobody else remembers. Not my friends and not Kyuhyun oppa. Kyuhyun oppa is probably to busy with her to remember about us. No, we did date. We were simply called people who were familiar with each other. But soon enough, that changed. A silent tear trails down my pale cheek, I am the only one who has this memory.

I walked away from the mirror and pulled out an old box. It was filled with memories of the past, items of yesterday and so much more. Slowly, I opened the box and gazed into it. There, right there, was a picture of me and Kyuhyun oppa. I was happily standing by him with a smile on my face. A real smile. Kyuhyun oppa gave me that ever so special gaze. We didn't touch, but it was enough to transmit feelings. I bit my lip. This was a pointless part of the past.

They, Kyuhyun oppa and her, they were good people.

Why would I ever disturb the peaceful love?

As they say, if you truly love someone, you have to let them go. I gripped the picture tightly. This picture meant nothing now. For them. For him. For her. For everyone else. I had to realise it now before it hurt even more. With shaking and fragile hands, I tore the picture in half. And then, just like before, I ripped it into another half. Soon, scattered around me were tiny pieces of paper that held part of an image. It simply held part of a memory. I let another tear trail down my cheek.

The past means nothing.

Only the present and future counts.

Thus, I mean nothing.