It was a late afternoon on a certain weekday. Rainy and cold, the weather was merely mocking the internal turmoil that Junhyeon was feeling - the disorganized state of her heart was in great contrast to the composed demeanour that she projected on the outside yet reverberated with the elemental chaos of the skies.

 

It was no great mystery as to why she felt this way. Barely 3 months ago, in just a short span of 1 minute, the bond between them was broken. Them did not exist anymore. He was not part of her whole anymore. He was Myungsoo.

 

Becoming a research student was her dream. Even with a scholarship, Junhyeon still needed a job to take care of her daily expenses. This day, a fateful Friday, had her working alongside her senior, who had kindly introduced her to this job - relatively easy and good with its salary - and took care of her in their common courses.

 

To fulfill her dream, she had thought he would be by her side. Instead, day in and day out, she had to settle for the emptiness embodied by the presence of sunbae. His absence had never been so pronounced as when it was sunbae that reminded her of her yearning, longing, and alas, wishful hoping that it would be Myungsoo that had taken sunbae's spot.

 

***

 

Usually, dramas would pause at a scene where the heroine would be tearing by the the sink, back facing the counter or register, as the famed sidekick and/or comforting friend/senior/admirer scurry about to complete the leftover tasks that were supposed to be hers, covering her tracks and helping her without a single utterance of complaint. There would be depressing non-diegetic music playing in the background. Perhaps a voiceover would narrate the sorry state that the heroine seemed to be emotionally stuck in or the voiceover would be done in the heroine's voice, attempting to put the pain into words, drawing the viewers' explicit attention to her sadness and feelings of rejection and self-pity or self-mockery. It would be a self-indulgent frame; it screams of depression, complete and consuming, inducing your tears to fall and your heart to cringe, because everyone - actors and viewers alike - would have had a personal experience or broken dream that played out this same scene sometime, somewhere before.

 

Dramas drew inspiration from real life stories. But real life stories too, drew inspiration from dramas. If anything, the latter type of inspiration involved catharsis; it could be a cathartic release of pent up emotions, locked away, suppressed and repressed by your determination to "move on" from a past wound, where you cry for the heroine's plight, when in actuality, you were crying for yourself.

 

A shadow of a smirk fleeted past Junhyeon's lips as she wiped the just-washed mugs and plates dry and placed them neatly on the shelf overhead.

 

Dramas were worshipped and followed because they were - ultimately - unreal. Images of people that loved and lost, magnified and zoomed in, brought out the hidden, hushed up feelings that the viewers felt in their own love stories, which were lack lustre and seemingly comparatively boring and bland. Sure, Junhyeon watched dramas and she loved them too; however, no matter how much she loved them, she could not help but feel bitter - yes, bitter - because dramas provided the false hope of happy endings. It was arguable that dramas could be postmodern and refuse the comfortable closure of a happy ending, but still, in some way - some flawed way - a happy ending was always guaranteed. Something comforting, no matter how small and tiny it was, would rise from the midst of the mass of dark, broody, depressing doom that was the ending. The comfort provided would give viewers a sense of closure, a finality that could soothe their aching hearts (and eyes, if it was a tear-jerking series). But Junhyeon only felt bitter.

 

She did not have the luxury of having a closure.

 

Myungsoo had left her hanging.

 

The only thing she had concretely grasped was that they were over. 

 

***

 

All I hear is raindrops falling on the rooftop

Ooh baby tell me why'd you have to go

'Cause this pain I feel it won't go away

And today I'm officially missing you

 

 

"I need to go. Talk to you later, alright?"

 

"Mhmm, yeah."

 

"I'll call you."

 

"That's what you always say."

 

"Don't wait up. I'll probably just text you if I'm late."

 

"...sure."

 

"...okay so-"

 

"No problem, just go."

 

"You'll be fine?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Coming, hyung!...hey, I-"

 

"Go."

 

"Huh, what?"

 

"I said... nevermind. Go on and do your thing. I'll be fine, oppa."

 

"Love you-"

 

"Lo-"

 

"beep beep beep"

 

"..."

 

I love you too, oppa. 

 

 

***

 

 

It takes only 60 seconds for a pair of strangers to fall in love. It's a brief moment that freezes two hearts and meld them together as one, beating and pumping the life force called love through their veins, warming and nourishing their very being.

 

In the same 60 seconds, the warmth that had once passed through those veins can also cool and evaporate into nothingness, a cold, barren, vast emptiness called loss.

 

 

On one fateful Friday afternoon, Mandy Moore was singing through the speakers in a quaint cafe. In an inconspicuous corner, there sat Myungsoo and Junhyeon. He had shades on, further aided by a dark cap and a black hoodie - his favourite "I am an artiste" get-up that Junhyeon hated because it drew more attention to them than if he were to just disguise himself with a pair of glasses. Ever since he has entered the entertainment industry, their together time has been decreasing drastically to the point of a pathetic bi-monthly meet up. It could barely be termed a "date" since their time gradually lessened to a depressing 2-hour session.

 

Yawning, he stared intently at his americano, while she stared just as intently at her latte. For some time now, he has stopped drinking lattes and she has stopped drinking americanos. There is a limit to how long you could go along with your partner's preference.

 

Limit. This was the key word.

 

 

I'll always remember

It was late afternoon

It lasted forever

And it ended so soon

 

 

"I don't think..."

 

 

You were all by yourself

Staring up at a dark gray sky

 

 

"...we should continue this."

 

 

I was changed

 

 

"..."

 

 

In places no one will find

All your feelings so deep inside

 

 

"We...just can't..."

 

 

It was there that I realized

 

 

"...work this out anymore."

 

 

That forever was in your eyes

The moment I saw you cry

 

 

Drip. A lone tear fell into the mug of latte.

 

There wasn't any burst of emotions. A curt bow, happened in slow motion, a silent acknowledgement of this goodbye, and he was gone. His americano hadn't even been touched.

 

 

60 seconds was needed to finally blurt out "I like you."

60 seconds was all that was needed too, to say goodbye.

 

 

Perhaps the only comfort out of this could be that...

 

Goodbye need not mean "I don't like you anymore."

 

 

To Junhyeon, though, what could be seen as a point of comfort could very well mean...

 

"I can't like you anymore."

 

 

*** Author's Corner ***

Dear readers,

It was midnight when I started typing this and now it's 2am, with the cold rain pitter-pattering against my window pane. I'm feeling the melancholy and I'm remembering my first love. This is a vicious downward spiral into a bout of depression, I'm sure. But I thought that my feelings match what I wanted to type for this chapter, and so I held on to it and typed away.

How was it? Tell me what did you feel. This story is all about feelings.

Looking forward to your comments, dearies.

Love, Kaylove

 

P.S. Edited for misspelling.

P.P.S. Edited the embarrassing grammar. :/