세나: I cast down the book on the table, a deep frown formed on my face borne of discontent. Once more, I open it, right on the bookmarked leaf. I place my cheek on one of my palms and continue reading. I peruse a few lines but there’s this nagging voice inside my head which, I don’t even know what it says. Finally having had enough, I rise from my seat, a little too abruptly, that the chair I was sitting on fell on the floor with a clatter. I ignore it and bring the book along with me; I walk to the door while carrying it, flipping pages.

When I’m two feet away from the door I hear the voice that’s been absent from my ears for two years now. Along with the click of the door’s opening, a voice comes into the room, mightily announcing—

“Hello, princess. It is I, your best-friend prince—“

I must say that I reacted quickly that his next words are drowned in a loud, ugly, globbing string of words when I kick the door with one foot, and let it remain upon it.

“L-let me in!” is the next coherent thing I hear, as the arm of my supposed best friend sticks out from the door’s small opening.

I’m still holding the book with one hand, and the other is pointing the words on the page, while I stand with one foot for another is on the door. I grunt, keeping my voice stable despite of the rage building up inside me, “I don’t know who you are. Why should I let you in?”

From the other side of the door, murmurs of reasoning are heard, and what I catch are “Alright, alright! Let’s settle this and stop hurting my face!”

Finally, I stop pushing the door and a guy comes tumbling in, completely poise-less.

When he raises his head my heart stops, and for a long moment my eyes are wide in wonder. It’s my best friend’s voice, but…

Who is this guy?

Yes, he did have black hair back then but now it seems like his tresses have been darker and more…styled. It’s trimmed into an attractive boy-cut, with bangs sweeping to one side that frames his face very well. He looks like someone that jumped out from TV. Yook Sungjae was handsome. But this guy is more handsome.

 “S-Sena-ya…” the guy who I think is Sungjae stammers, a smile creeping on his face. He takes a step forward but I recoil a pace, and he stops. Now he knows.

I knit my brows together. I fold my arms and tug one corner of my mouth down while one head is tilted. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes go small in sadness. “You know who I am.”

“I don’t know you.”

He approaches in quick, huge steps and I don’t have time to run away. He takes possession of both of my forearms and sticks his face very close to mine I could smell his breath. “It’s your best friend.”

I snicker, and eye him back with one brow up. “Are you?”

He decreases  the distance between his brows in sorrow. “Se Na…”

“And you still have the nerve to call me by my name?” here I unclasp myself away from him, voice a tad higher. “You still even have the guts to show up to me? After all these years?”

“I’m…sorry…”

“WELL, YOU SHOULD BE!” I yell, swatting a hand across the air to prove my point. I ball my hands in anger. “GET OUT! I’VE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU A LONG TIME AGO!”

“Please…Se Na…” he pleads. “Listen. I can explain.”

“Explain.” I roll my eyes and fold my arms. “Explain. You should have thought of that before you stopped appearing to me and cut off all your ties with me. Explain. Wow, Sungjae. Explain? Really? Can you really even put into words all the betrayal you have done for the past two years? You decide to stop visiting me and one day I see you on TV singing and girls dying and swooning over you? Sungjae what is happening?  How can you—“

“—we were told to.”

My eyes flick. “What?”

Sungjae keeps his eyes down. “We were told to concentrate on our training.” He slowly meets my gaze. “I was forced to stop visiting you because of time itself. I was too busy. Our phones were confiscated, too; we were selected for the latest group debuting and believe me, I was stuck. I couldn’t tell you. Every opportunity was wasted. I—“

“—then why didn’t you try?!”

“For Pete’s sake, you don’t know how much I did! I know it’s a little too impossible that for the last two years I couldn’t even had faced you but Se Na—“ his fists are shaking. “—you don’t know what happened. It’s a very long story for you to understand.”

“I want to understand!”

“Se Na, please…just…” he kneels. “…hit me. Do whatever you want. I know I’m not deemed worthy to be your bestfriend—or friend, at all, but please. Before you do that, hit me. Hard, with a bat, whatever, just do it.”

There is silence in the room. I stand there dumbly, looking at the black-haired handsome boy who was my best friend. As I stare at him two years of incompleteness reels back into my mind like an unwanted movie. The waiting. The crying. The hopelessness. He was the only one that felt really like  family to me. We were never related in blood, but he was my brother. My best friend. Heck, we even promised to marry when we get old. One day he said he had to move to Seoul because of his family. He promised that he’d visit me, which he fulfilled religiously, never failing in allotting time to come back home to me despite of the distance he had to cover from his residence to mine. This routine went on for years, but one day he stopped. It just stopped. It was a mere snap, and everything was gone. I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t find him. Did he die? No. his parents would tell me if he did. Did I die? Yes. Well, figuratively. I used to think I was a person destined to be alone in this world. My parents died when I was young—too young to even remember. I have an aunt that was obliged to take care of me, but did she treat me like family? Never. One day I met a boy by the name of Yook Sungjae. He proved me that I wasn’t alone. That was until two years ago, when the visiting stopped, the calling stopped, which led to the fading of the promises.

“What…” Sungjae raises his head slowly to eye me, incredulous. “…Se Na…”

“You…” my eyes are welling up. I rarely cry, and the person to ever see me crying was this boy who is in front of me now. “…Don’t…don’t you ever do that again.” I’m still holding a lock of his bangs while I it. I’m kneeling down to level his gaze with mine. Sungjae holds my wrist lightly and his eyes are shiny.

“Pyo Se Na…” he tenderly voices, on the verge of crying.

“Yook Sungjae.” I manage a smile, and that is when a tear comes rolling down my cheek. “Screw this. You’re making me cry again,”

He sniffs once. “And so are you to me.” He encircles his arms around my torso and embraces me tightly. “I…Se Na…”

“I missed you too,” I laugh, my chin on his shoulder. My arms are around his neck. More tears come skidding down, but this time it’s worth it. Sungjae’s here now. My best friend’s here now. At least I don’t feel so alone.

Several hours later I find myself sitting at the dining table, with Sungjae sitting in front of me, who’s eating to his heart’s content.

I stare at him dreamily as he eats the ramyun. Soon enough he notices my never-ending gazing and looks. “Want some?” with the noodles between his lips.

I shake my head from left to right. “I’m full.”

“Come on; eat. It’s been a long time since we ate together,” he swallows it down, clips a few strands of noodles with his chopsticks, and holds it out to me. “Here. Aaaah~”

I reluctantly open my mouth, and as the food was getting closer I open it wider, and I blithely chew on it. “Thanks.” I say.

“How have you been?” Sungjae asks.

“Fine. But not really good. Your fault.”

Sungjae whines. “Aww, Se Na. are we doing this again?”

I laugh, waving a hand to dismiss it. “But I’m okay now, really. The question is you. How are you?”

“Great!” he quickly answers. “You’ve known of us, right? BToB?”

“Of course,” I nonchalantly say. “Born To Beat.”

He chuckles at that. “Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you to them.”

“Eh? But—“

Suddenly somewhere in the room we hear the door’s opening, and I excuse myself to get it.

“Ahjumeoni!” I exclaim when I see my aunt settling her shoes on the shoe-rack. “You’re home early!”

“Why, Se Na, this is my home. Am I not allowed to?” she replies snidely, which she always does.

 If you think my aunt’s mean, you should really meet me. “I was just asking,” I snort, then make a pfff sound with my lips.

“What’s that smell? Have you cooked dinner?” my aunt ignores my rudeness and holds her nose up in the air and sniffs.

“Not yet, but yes, I did cook.” I answer, and follow her as she walks quickly to the kitchen. “Ah, Ahjumeoni—“ but it’s too late. She already sees who’s in the house.

“Se Na-ya?” she says with her back on me; looking over her shoulder but not removing her sight from the sitting boy at the dining table. “What did I tell you about letting strangers in?”

“Ahjumeoni!” Sungjae quickly stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He bows ninety degrees and greets. “Annyeonghasseyo!”

“Who…” my aunt stammers.

I walk to her front and come in between her and my best friend. “It’s Sungjae, Ahjumeoni.”

“My, my,” she mumbles, and walks past me. She stands in front of him to examine. “Is that really you, Yook Sungjae?” she slowly puts her finger on his chin, lifting it up.

“Uh…yes, it is me.” Jae looks at me and telepathically sends help!

My aunt’s expression turns from the soft, wondering one to a serious, lethal face. “Now tell me.”

I see Sungjae’s Adam’s Apple bob up and down.

“What is your business with Se Na this time?”

“Actually…” oh, I never knew Sungjae had the guts to talk to my aunt. He never had the courage to exchange more than a sentence with her. “I have a proposition, Ahjumeoni.”

“What is it, child?”

And my brow rises in wonder, so does my aunt’s, when Sungjae says, rather boldly, “Can I borrow your niece?”