It took her one full spring and half of summer to heal. They had fought so badly at the beginning. He was so demanding and she was so stubborn. He demanded her to come with him, to where she could reassemble her broken pieces and heal her scars. She refused. And it was the beginning of their first fight together. In months of living under the same roof, it has been their first and only fight and it had hurt. He had expected it to hurt him so deeply, but she never thought a single fight with him could hurt her too. He had persuaded her and yelling at her, so demanding and so much authority. She had yelled back, screaming obscenities he never knew she could say. They had slammed doors at each other face and spent the next morning in silence. There was no smile, no greeting, and no warm.

If the fight has brought something upon them, then it would be the simple understanding between two people. He realized – even if she lost all the love she had and what left of her broken heart, she’d survive on a single thin thread – how much she loved her work. It made her very admirable and very beautiful. On the day they fought, he learnt the different between a rookie and a senior. He had not fully realized or fathom what it took to be a star and what it cost to live the glamorous life it offered. But she always knew. She knew how her job was always hanging by a single thin thread, so fragile yet so strong at the same time. She knew what to protect and what not to protect, what to say and what not. She knew everything.

And he came into a single conclusion – sad yet relieved – she was in love with her job more than anything.

It all made sense – how stubborn she was to seek for help or why she was so insistent in living at her horrible flat in the nasty suburbs of Seoul. She wanted to protect her job. So, she could live forever in her little fantasy world. A life of a star is a life of fantasy. The cost she had to pay was her own sacrifice to have a part of her killed day by day, little by little. She’d been afraid of losing her job, her little fantasy. She’d been afraid of being hated. There was much more than what met in the eye.

On the fourth day after their fight, she stopped locking up the door and he stopped keeping the distance. She had come out with bloody arms, a deeper gash than usual and worse scars, a piece of sharp glass in her hands. It was midnight; he had woken up with a jolt when the sound of crashing glass echoed loudly. He found her fidgeting in his kitchen, washing of the blood while trying to take some pills to calm down.

“I don’t want to live like this,” her honey orbs was darker than usual, giving more shade of grey than light almond brown. Her lips were trembling and her fingers were fumbling with a bottle cap. “I never wanted to live like this,” she had her back on him and her voice was cracking bit by bit. Her fragile figure was wrapped in a nice pink bathrobe. “But I can’t do anything about it. I want to heal. I want to close my eyes and start a brand new days and letting go of what happened. But I can’t.”

“No, no,” he took the broken piece of glass away from her hand and pour a glass of water for her. He helped her drink a gulp or two until she calmed down. “You can,” The couch was only a few steps away, so he settled her down and rubbed her back for comfort. He pressed her bleeding wounds and fumbled with the cabinets, desperate to find the first-aid kit. “I have an aunt. She’s a good psychiatrist. She could help. She’d be glad to help.”

“That’s why I can’t!” She screamed between her loud gasp and he feared she might run out of breath. She was hyperventilating. “You don’t know anything about being a star, do you? People will find out. People will know. They will hate me for it. They will stare at me as if I’m some kind of lunatic. They always stare at me. I… I can’t. I don’t think I could ever get through that again.” She grabbed his wrist when he tried to bandage her wounds. “No, I think I could… but I’ll lose my job.” Their twin honey orbs met. “I can’t lose my job.”

He had promised her to always be there. He had promised her safety and he had convinced her of the so much needed help. Maybe it was the sincerity in his eyes or what they had made in the past months or maybe just a moment of weakness she had showed him – she agreed. She nodded between her tears and sobs and he wiped them with his thumb, yet some still slipped between his fingers. When he felt the wetness in his hands and shirt, it reminded him of the heartache he failed to protect her from.

Afterwards, she would wait and he would come home. For one full spring and half of summer, they fought and made up, they cried and laugh. He had seen her at her weakest. He remembered the look on her face, the day he brought her to his aunt. Her beautiful face was stained with tears and her honey eyes were lifeless and read from too much crying, her lips trembling. He drove her home as she cried. There was a beautiful story for one full spring and half of summer.

They fought countless time. He was becoming more demanding and manly. She was as stubborn as ever, but she listened a bit more these days. They slammed doors at each other and yelled at each other. They hurt each other and glare at each other. She even tried to chaste him away one, yet stopped and locked herself up inside once she realized this wasn’t her home. They apologized to each other later. She would be with her tears stained eyes and he would be in his regret and desperation. Later on, he had driven her to her parent grave. He saw her cried her lungs out and broke down to pieces. He helped her collect herself and walked with her. Then, they watched movies together and ate breakfast together in the morning. He accompanied her through the day in the library and listened to her voice in the evening. On her birthday, he bought her a cake and they fell asleep on the couch. They woke up tangled against each other and he woke up to her gleeful giggles.

All done between the little time they had together. And Xi Luhan was contented and happy.

She slowly healed. Nightmares still haunted her and she still woke up with a scream so often. But he saw her smile a bit more and laughs with freedom. She put on less façade and looked less sad. She still cried and occasionally had a meltdown in front of him and often he’d watch in silence while holding her close. He’d whisper soothing words and she’d look okay again in no time. Today, they had a bond. A nameless bond, still so fragile and small, yet so sure and existent. He’d let it slip between his lips – the fact that he loved her. He remembered the way his chest constricted when she fumbled and stumbled on her steps trying to get away from him. The horror in her eyes, telling him to tell her it was all a joke because she wasn’t ready. He realized they had a bond – a bond less than friendship and less than love.

It took her great effort to be okay again, yet it only took her a single phone call to break apart.

Friday morning. He wasn’t home when she received the call. He left her a note, stuck to the fridge in the kitchen. He always left her one, so they wouldn’t so freak out when one of them disappear early in the morning. She was alone and the heat was almost unbearable. She swore the remaining half of summer might burnt her alive. She didn’t go out so often, except when he decided to take her out to one of the private beach or the amusement park. She missed the sea often these days.

Yes, she was surprised and rather unprepared to receive such a phone call. It was midsummer and Friday, the street outside was bustling with the crowd. Children so excited about going out and couples on a date. Parent watched over their little children with proud and wary in their eyes, afraid they might lose them in the crowd. She felt cold and isolated, despite the heat and everything. Perhaps the single call took so many tolls on her. She remembered how her blood freeze for a second and her brain turned blank. The moment she recognized the voice, all she saw was white.

She put on her best flower-patterned dress. Yellow seemed to fit her pale skin well these days. She put on a light make up with pink lipstick and baby pink blush to add the ‘delicate’ feeling into her soul. She put on her sunglasses and wedges. With a sigh, she flung the front door opened, ready to face the world.

Inside, she chanted a mantra: don’tcomehome, don’tcomehome, don’tcomehome.

She was so sure she’d break tonight. And all this endless fight, secrecy, and struggle will all be in vain.

***

Women, beauty, and obsession. Every woman wants to feel beautiful. They struggle for beauty. Pretty dresses and high heels. Skincare and hair treatment. Women are pushed to be beautiful. Often, the judge falls on how beautiful a woman could be. The charms on woman often falls more on their beauty than personality. And perhaps, the reason why woman lives in a world where beauty matter the most was this. Yet, no matter how beautiful they looked, it always feel less. Every woman chased after beauty and dread the life after it. In this world of the living, where only beauty graced, only handsome man and beautiful woman could date for perfection. Woman who dated very handsome man are considered a leech, while man who dated very beautiful woman are considered lucky. But in the end, does being beautiful matter so much?

Oh, the irony of the living.

The thoughts of woman and their beauty obsession, thus the important of beauty, passed her mind as she checked on her reflection for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. She was lead through the hallways by a waitress dress in red cheongsam, into one of the more private room. When she spot the mirror placed at one corner – believed to chase away the bad oments – she couldn’t help but to check on her appearance again. She wondered if she wore the perfect outfit or if she should have opted for a simpler one than her floral summer dress. She wondered if she should have worn her stilettos instead of her edges. She was pretty sure a simpler dress would look better on her. It’d bring out her charm as a twenty-two years old. She sighed, thinking she looked like a junior high student.

Lee Ji Eun was desperate to look beautiful today. She was a woman, and perhaps woman are born with the dread to chase after beauty. As a star, she was complimented for her beauty countless time. An effortless look would be enough to shine amidst the crowd, for every eyes to look at her in amazement or envy. When she put a little more effort, she’d be complimented as the most beautiful woman in the world. To Lee Ji Eun, being beautiful was a natural part of life. No matter what she puts on, no matter how she looked, she’d always be beautiful. And maybe that was why being beautiful feel so rare and perfect. In her life, she had little chances to feel truly beautiful. It had been him –the love of her life –when he told her she looked so beautiful. And yes, at that moment, she had felt so beautiful and enchanting.

She stopped in front of the mirror. She wondered if she looked okay. Did her legs look so short with the floral dress on? Did she walk weirdly with her wedges on? Did she wear too much make up? Did her skin look good enough? Did her hair look pretty? Did she look like twenty-two years old? When the waitress stopped walking and stare back at her, she forced a smile. Lee Ji Eun clearly remembered the taste of this particular name –Bae Suzy –and the look on the waitress face when she mentioned them. The mere name was enough to make her desperate. She wanted to look beautiful today. So beautiful. So enchanting.

But again, does being beautiful matter so much? She was beautiful, indeed. Every woman wanted to be her. Every man wanted to date her. But what was beauty when she couldn’t even tame the love of her life? She was beautiful yet she lost him. Then again, men are creatures with two hearts: one for lust and another for love. He might have loved her so much from the deepest part of him, but her beauty and all her charms were never enough. She couldn’t tame him for both his love and his lust. She was never enough.

How beautiful was Bae Suzy, so she could tame him for both his love and his lust. Something Lee Ji Eun could never do.

When she sat there –across the woman who won everything she’d like to have –she contemplated on running away. The urge was there, to slap this woman on her cheek and ran back to the place where her comfort lays. And there was another urge, to sit there and protect what was left in her and her dignity and listen to what this woman has to say. She has waited for days and months for an apology. Lee Ji Eun was in love with Kim Jongin –no matter how much you denied –it was truth. Losing the love of her life has been her greatest lost and grief. Bae Suzy was five months too late, for both apology and forgiveness.

When their eyes met, Lee Ji Eun could see the difference between them –two women both around twenty, as famous, as different. And maybe, she could understand Jongin a little bit: why he fell for this Bae Suzy, why he betrayed the love of his life, and why they were never enough. Perhaps, the moment two beautiful women truly looked at each other, Lee Ji Eun could understand why they could never work. With little grasp of consideration, she stared for a longer time –observing the younger woman who won her everything. She realized: Bae Suzy has everything Lee Ji Eun could never have.

This woman… was also very beautiful indeed. She has taller-built and fuller body. She wasn’t too thin or too fat. She was the perfect size and the perfect shape. She would look good in anything. Her darker skin shade looked very alive and pretty, creamy and soft. She has the grace of a woman. Bae Suzy was beautiful and enchanting, so shiny with youth. But Lee Ji Eun knew Kim Jongin better and longer and she knew mere beauty weren’t enough to win his heart. He was that brilliant, so brilliant – a reason why Lee Ji Eun never once has the hesitation to call him the love of her life. He wasn’t a man won with beauty.

Maybe it was her smile or her eyes… Her darker eyes were not prettier than hers, Jieun believed, but there was something so alluring and so comforting in the darkness of her eyes. It sparkled, so brilliant and shiny yet so calm and relax. It sparkled with so much youth and happiness. She looked a little sad, a little depressed and guilty, but the spark lived. She looked so ordinary and simple, but beautiful and enchanting at the same time. She own the spark of both youth and innocence in her eyes –something the honey brown orbs of Lee Ji Eun never possessed. Or maybe her brilliant smile won him over. When her red lips tugged upward and form the brilliant smile, it was brilliant and beautiful. She flashed her white teeth at her and her eyes form a crescent moon. The way she smiled –both her eyes and lips- was vivid and ablaze. This woman had the spark of happiness, youth, and innocence.

And Lee Ji Eun grasped a little more understanding of why us could never work: she was far too broken and she broke him too.

So, she pushed the thought of running away off her head and sat there in silence. As the clicked sound of the door echoed, she averted her gaze away and stared at the dishes. A variety of dim sum, enough for six people and their huge appetite. She took off her dark sunglasses and stared once more at the younger woman. She hated her. Even with greater understanding of why Kim Jongin and Lee Ji Eun will never work, or a thousand word long explanations from the man himself, she’d still hate her. She was envious and hurt. She was in dreadful need of an apology which has been five months too late.

“Do you like the dish?” Bae Suzy spoke and Lee Ji Eun made another mental note. The younger voice weren’t as smooth as hers. There was another smile –faked and forced. Once again, Lee Ji Eun contemplated on slapping this woman and leaving a handprint on her cheek. She didn’t need the small talk or the beat-around-the-bush. Lee Ji Eun needed an apology and a good chance of unforgiving her. “We could order something else you like. I’ll pay, if you don’t mind.”

“We have enough food for six people. If you’re going to beat around the bush, shut up and eat.” Suzy blinked and Jieun grunted. When Suzy tried to do another small talk which was a little too sweet and fake for Jieun, she glared. “I’m losing my appetite fast, so either you shut up or I’ll walk out.” Oh, how she hated this woman. Oh, how this all felt so wrong. She didn’t know how much longer she could stay without bursting with tears. In her own fantasy, she could see this brilliant woman and her brilliant ex and the perfection. It hurt. It hurt.

“I’m sorry,” guilt, sadness, and regrets. “I’m very sorry,” remorse and sincere. “But I love him.” tears. “I truly love him.” more tears. “Jieun-ssi,” she stared at her with tears staining her cheek, remorse and sadness clouded her sparkly eyes. “I love him. I truly love him.”

And for the first time, Lee Ji Eun realized there was another person who loved Kim Jongin as much as she did: Bae Suzy.

She couldn’t… she couldn’t… Oh my god, she couldn’t. All her resolved on getting better, on letting go the pain and Kim Jongin flew out of the window. She watched Suzy cried her eyes out, sobbing. The latter brain seemed to be on an endless replay, the same word playing again and again: I love him. I love him. I love him. And Lee Ji Eun couldn’t stand watching any longer. Her heart was twisted and broken in the cruelest way. Bae Suzy was wrong to fall for the love of her life. But Lee Ji Eun wouldn’t blame her. She couldn’t. Kim Jongin was brilliant. But she also couldn’t stand there watching her cry. She wanted to run out to where her comfort has been waiting all these months: home with Xi Luhan. And again, for a mere second, she wondered when she started having a home to go back to.

Yet, she remained there –ignorant and indifference –as the latter bawled. She didn’t move an inch and she didn’t let a single tears slip. It took all her strength to remain there: quiet, ignorant, and strong. She wanted to cry so much and break to pieces. In the back of her head, she wanted to find Luhan and cried in his arms. She’d been having so much comfort and she dreaded for one. For the next fifteen minutes of keeping herself together and listening to a louder cry, it finally stopped.

“He loves you,” a bitter smile. “He truly loves you more than he loves me.” She chocked. “I know you love him too.” Her voice was hoarse and broken and weak after a melancholic cry. “But I love him,” And Lee Ji Eun prayed with all her heart so she wouldn’t cry again and she didn’t. “You are his precious person. To him, you’re a thousand times precious compared to me. I… he cheated on you… but I think it’s important for you to know he never meant it. He loves you. He always loves you.”

Lee Ji Eun made another mental note. If a man ever told you he was sorry for cheating on you, he deserved a good hit in the head. If a woman ever told you she was sorry for stealing your man away, she deserved a good slap. No one is ever truly sorry about loving another person. Love is selfishness. But this was Kim Jongin, a man she truly loved. She’d accept another of his lie and forgive him again and again. She never doubted he loved her. Yes, he loved her. But no, he was never sorry about loving another woman or cheating on her. Of all this drama, he ever only regretted losing her. Kim Jongin was a man and a man could never choose between his two hearts.

“And I… love him. I want to be with him.” Her smile was beautiful, sincere, and lovely but bitter. Bae Suzy knew Kim Jongin was never hers to begin with and perhaps he could never love her as much as he loved Lee Ji Eun. “It’s… important for him… that you… approve us so we could be together. I…”

A conversation flow was never predictable. One could talk about a murder case downtown and ended up talking about their vacation plan next year. Or, sometimes one could talk about what to get for lunch and ended up talking about celebrity gossips. But this particular conversation was rather predictable. She knew where it would take her, so she came with a bit of preparation and braced herself for the heartache. It began with the rather nice small talks about the dishes and the expected apologies. Yet, in her wildest dream, she never thought this woman could ever ask for her approval so she could date her ex.

She abruptly stood up and ran for the door. Suzy quickly ran over to her and went down on her knees, arms around her legs so she couldn’t take any step further. For a moment between rage and heartache, she counted to ten. They were both desperate for one brilliant man: Kim Jongin. On their path to win the man, how much dignity was left in them? Whose dignity was lower: hers or this younger woman?

“I want to marry him,” she told her. Firm yet sad.

I want to marry him. She repeated it twice and Lee Ji Eun quickly struggled with the sudden numbness invading her. There was something about the room: so cold and distant, so small and suffocating. There was something about her heart: so twisted and sick, so broken and fragile. All she could feel was coldness, despite the bright summer sun. All she could see was white, despite the red-colored walls. To imagine her ex-boyfriend and this younger woman –dressed in beautiful wedding dress and black tux –hurt her. They would be so perfect and happy, so brand new and sparkly. It would remind her of what she could never become and how all her dreams went downhill. The perfection hurt.

Jieun quickly pry her hand off and step closer to the door. Her hand rested on the knob, ready to slide it open anytime. She couldn’t feel anything. The walls seemed to be closing on her and she had the sudden urge to run away. She needed to run away. She watched the younger woman pooled around her legs, crying and sobbing. She stared down at her short white legs. They were both trembling, but at least she wasn’t crying. She counted to ten and prayed and begged her heart: don’tbreak don’tbreak don’tbreak. Then, her tears dripped onto the wooden floor.

“You can love him all you want, Bae Suzy.” She told her with trembling voice and the sudden wetness staining down her cheek, she couldn’t feel her tears. The image of him marrying another woman was dreadful. “But I love him too!” She slide the door opened and stepped outside. More tears dripped onto the wooden floor. And she ran.

She ran, back to where her comfort was. Inside, she chanted a mantra: pleasecomehome comehome comehome.

***

When he first fell for her, he knew he was playing with fire.

His fall began with fondness. After all, he was a man and no man ever falls in love at first sight. They lust at first sight.

Then it grew, like a virus. It ate him. It got under his skin, seeped through his soul, and he let it. Because, like a drug, it was addicting and it was real good. He didn’t know where his fondness stopped and grew into something more – into lust – or when he started liking her as a woman. There was no clear point for the start of his fall and the end of its beginning. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he started to love her. She was someone else’s at the time (of that he knew) but loving her felt incredibly fulfilling. He, also, didn’t know if this love is love. Love and lust – an endless need for a man and Xi Luhan was a man. Those were things a man never keep track of. Man simply never cares.

But love is fire, either a hot burning one or a cold burnt-out flame. Between Xi Luhan and Lee Ji Eun, the love was a burning (one-sided) flame. It was warm – enchanting and fulfilling – like a campfire flame in mindst of cold winter in the woods; but too much and it burnt. She burnt. She burnt him – each touch, each word, each gaze. His stomach flipped, his heart twisted, his lust thirst. Then came the unavoidable: he wanted to be loved back. He would wait for it.

What Lee Ji Eun shared with Kim Jongin – the love – was deeper than fire. It was a burnt-out flame, but sweet, gentle, pure, and passionate – alive. The only dots of weakness was clarity and cautious –too cautious and it broke. In the back of his head, he knew broken people shouldn’t love. She shouldn’t love just yet. Because love is a double-edged sword and she wasn’t ready to be stabbed and he would wait.

So, when she barged in through the maroon-colored door on a nice Friday evening (to him it was more of the calm before the storm) –make up smeared, dress shaggy, body trembling, and bursting with tears – he panicked. She was a beautiful mess with disheveled hair and tear-stained cheek (flushed with tears and sadness), but the way she stood there –idle and quiet –made him panicked and afraid. The chill was cold and wrong.

When she flung herself at him – toes tip-toed, arms around his neck, her small frame against his chest –he held her close with half-clarity. He was a man and he lusted over her; her smell was intoxication and she was so frail. And when she started to whisper something she did not meant, he grew to understand Kim Jongin a little more. He respected the younger man a little more and hated him a little less. I love you, I love you, I love you, she said, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, she begged.

The next time he met Kim Jongin, he’d tell him how much of a good man he was: how great and kind. Because when the broken decided to love, the unbroken would break. It’s scary because he knew they would be too in love and too cautious and they couldn’t let go. In the end, they would both shut down. It’s terrifying to see the woman in his arms with a blank façade and a broken-numb heart. No one alive ever wanted to shut down and he was silently afraid too. He was more scared of shutting down than seeing this woman shattered. What the future held between the two of them right now was rather simple: they’d both shut down and cry and wake up with numbness.

So, he went to bed that night after he tugged her in. His chest was heavy and twisted in some sick way. He had waited for days, weeks, months, and he could have waited for years for her three words: I love you or I care about you. Perhaps, her two words would probably suffice: thank you. But now that he has heard, he wished he hadn’t heard and she hadn’t said. Those words were insincere, fake, and blank. She was afraid, afraid, and so afraid. She was desperate and she’d lie to feel better. He was nothing but her runaway comfort. So, he slept and he dreamt of regrets.

He dreamt of a world where he never met her. She was Jongin’s and the man never cheated. She smiled at another man, loved another man, broken and bruised but never something Xi Luhan ever cared about. He dreamt of a world where fate did not twist them together. He walked his own path. She walked through her own path. Two different path which never crossed. He dreamt the moment when he wasn’t in love. Without her, he’d never be so in love, but he’d be saved from so much heartbreak. There would be numbness in the depth of his soul, but never broken. He’d be whole and a man could survive on lust alone. For once, falling in love with such a beautiful girl felt unfortunate. As he dreamt about a world without her, she wondered of a world without Kim Jongin. They wondered if this… was unfortunate.

Because it hurt, he left early in the morning for work. He didn’t wake up to warm sunshine and nice coffee and toast aroma, but darker skies and colder wind. He didn’t come back for the next days and weeks. He didn’t see her for the next days and weeks. He avoided her as if she was a plague. He never bumped into her and she seemed to disappear from the glamorous world of celebrity for a while. He kept his hand busy with work and singing – he learnt guitar, he took more singing courses, he studied acting, he read books – something to keep her off his mind. The tug in his chest was constant and stubborn. Yet again, you weren’t supposed to be picking on scars for it to heal, but scars always itched.

When she woke up the next morning (and the next couple of day’s morning) and he wasn’t there, she knew she had hurt him. She was holding on to the thinnest thread of clarity that night, hoping it would keep her away from shutting down and breaking down to pieces. These days, the role reversed: he never came home and she waited. She wondered if it was something she said or something she did (or maybe both), but she thought it was better off never knowing. She needed the space and she’d sit there on his couch, flicking through TV channels, cry herself to sleep, then wondering about the days when she was so much in love and happy.

Xi Luhan woke up the next morning (and the next couple of day’s morning) to his old routine. He’d heard Sehun deep voice luring him out of slumber and the bickering. The boys could be exceptionally loud on a day off. They drank and got high over some stupid drinks and Luhan slowly enjoyed drinking. His cloudy mind kept her off his head and by morning, he’d be too dizzy to be thinking of anything. He knew she wouldn’t be waiting because this was a routine by the end of the month: this was one-sided. They had been best friend (he hoped), but everything was rather one-sided.

On the tenth of August, he remembered flicking through TV channels and listening to the news about end-of-summer festival, when the boys suddenly gathered around the couch. (He remembered it was so much better being at home, watching the TV with her, and just sneaking glances at her). It had been two weeks and four days since he left home. He didn’t miss home. He’d like to come home and he’d like to see her again, but he didn’t miss home. He wanted to keep his clarity intact and his heart healed; home would only drain his clarity out of him. She had to keep her clarity intact too. He loved her, oh yes, he loved her. But if loving her meant losing his clarity and everything else about him, he’d rather stopped. Love needs sacrifice, but he knew this wasn’t the sacrifice it needs.

“I have something… to say…” Kim Jongin muttered under his breath so slowly. Luhan remembered the gaze Jongin gave him the day he came to the dorm past midnight, early in the morning. His questionable stare was enough to make him shift uncomfortably. Kim Jongin cared about Lee Ji Eun with every inch of his soul. His gaze questioned him: what  happened? Is she okay? Why are you here? The day he ran away from home was the day he came to like Kim Jongin a little more. He shifted under his gaze and shrugged and ran back to his room. The next morning, when they bumped to each other, he clasped his hand on the younger’s shoulder and told him he was a good man.

“It better be good news,” Suho gritted. “We’ve had more than enough this year and I hoped we’re not dealing with any more problems.” He sighed and cracked his head to the side. He looked ready to bang his head on the walls the moment the news was spilled.

“The company decided it is good news. We might have a little backlash here and there, but a definite for majority positive response.” Jongin stated in as-a-matter-of-fact tone. Suho cursed under his breath but his shoulder relaxed a little under relief. The others seemed to be rather ignorant or annoyed. It has been less than a year, yet they have more dramas than cliché TV shows. “I’m….” he muttered so slowly.

“Go on, we brace ourselves already,” Baekhyun snapped. The day he heard about his less-than-lover-more-than-friend attempt on suicide, he decided to hate the poor younger boy. Lee Ji Eun was precious, thus anyone who hurt her became evil in his eyes.

“I’m marrying Bae Suzy.”

And every inch of Xi Luhan screamed for mercy.

***

The day she decided home was better off without him, he decided to come back. It was five or maybe six weeks later. She didn’t remember – she stopped waiting and counting when he didn’t come home the day she noted how the weather turned windy. All she could remember about the day he come back home was the constant note in her head telling her to close the window in the library because it’s almost autumn and the wind was less nice and colder. She’d been surprised to find him at the doorstep –okay and beautiful –finally home. But she was cold and distant, and she knew it. Moments while he was away and she stopped waiting, she prided on her self-control: she did not drink, she did not hurt herself, and she did not cry.

He has been everywhere in her life recently. Suddenly, he became the one thing glued to her routine. She was okay with it. She was okay with him being a plague to her mind. But when he left, she’d like to prove it has been nothing. That she was okay with him around, but also okay without him around. And so, she’d prove it to herself, simply because she needed it. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t okay. She woke up to constant numbness and she knew she shut down.

It took her three seconds to stand there and do nothing; it took him less than three seconds to eye her whole and pulled her to a bone-crushing hug. She didn’t return his hug. She didn’t want to. There was this emptiness that told her life has been better since he left, that maybe she was destined to be alone. But he was warm, like summer breeze and spring sun. He smelled like strong cinnamon and she liked it silently. His touch burnt her and she could feel the longing in his touch. He missed home, or did he miss her? She’d like to ask but she was so used to the silence that she’d hate to break it.

He whispered apologies: I’m sorry sorry sorry. She wondered why he apologized so much. Was it something she said or something she did? He didn’t let go of her until it was too warm and they both needed much space. Then, again, he held her still by her hand and stared deeply to her eyes. He stared with so much guilt, pain, and remorse. She told him it was okay, that she was sorry. She had been intoxicated that night, sad and depressed maybe, so she said things she hadn’t meant and it had hurt him. She remembered pleading him not to leave, yet he left, so maybe he was sorry for it. But it was okay, because she never blamed anyone but herself.

Unlike him, she never dreamt of a better world. She never dreamt of regrets and she rarely wondered of how life could be with different faces and personalities. She had no space of regret (she’s full without it and regrets may took her whole being to bear). She regretted being born in the first place and for every mistake she took, she blamed herself. She thought it was easier and sometime hating herself made things so much easier.

When he left, she fell back to a different routine. There was only a cup of morning coffee and one sliced bread (sometimes toast). She spent her mornings flicking through TV channels and staring out the window. Before midday, she strummed her guitar and sang a sad song. She scribbled on her pink scrapbook for music notes and lyrics. She spent the midday and evenings in the library, barely reading and just thinking. On warmer day, she’d go out and picked out new flowers for the garden.

When he came back, there was a new routine to it. She decided she liked it better when he was around –there was a set of everything: two cups of coffee and two sliced breads. There were TV shows to discuss and books to read together. She strummed her guitar and hummed a lighter song, he’d leaned back on the couch and marveled at her soothing voice. She’d go out and picked out new flowers for the garden and he’d help her plant it nicely. He bought her a vase for the living room and one for the library. She liked lilies and he liked lilacs.

So, before fall fully arrived and the leaves turned red, they sat together and talked about many things. She knew he had been home for too long and something must be wrong for it to happen, but she never said anything. She wanted to be ignorant for once and she just wanted to keep him there for a long time. She went for work and he stayed home. She came back home and he welcomed her home. She wanted him as a friend because he was nice and warm and beautiful. He was loyal and comforting and she silently liked his smile.

“There’s no work for today?” he asked her.

He was still wearing his sweatshirt and she wore hers. Hair still disheveled from waking up early in the morning and staying up late waiting for her to come home. They watched Notebook last night and they both went so emotional that it felt good. She shut down while he was away, but he kept her alive soon after. Lee Ji Eun once decided emotion is a sign of weakness, but it felt so good going all emotional. She’d like to do it again.

“No,” she danced around the kitchen as she poured two cups of coffee and cut the bread. Morning always set her in motion: pouring coffee and cut the bread, turned the toaster for toast and sometime a pot of soup for colder day. “I hand in a bunch of songs yesterday. I told them I want to work for another new album. I asked them to review them and told me which one is good enough.” Luhan liked watching her cook in his kitchen. Her large sweatshirt fell over one shoulder and her skin looked so soft. “I don’t think anything is good enough and I’m not asking you because you’ll say everything is perfect.” She rolled her eyes and he took no offense.

Because mornings like this were perfect, they sat next to each other in the living room and talked about everything. She handed him his cup of coffee and he liked it every time she put two blocks of sugar in his. He thought it meant she remembered a few things about him: what he liked and what he disliked. When the cushion next to him sunk down, he shrugged. “Because I truly think your songs sound really good. If they tell you it isn’t good enough, can you hand them to me? I think our producer would love them.”

“That I get all the royalty?” she teased and sipped her coffee. She moaned in delight and he did the same. Two blocks of sugars always did the wonders for him. “Or you just want the success? You know, it’s kinda exaggerated but they say the name IU define success in any album. I feel like a brand these days.”

“I think a little of both.” He liked it when she punched him. Her fist was small but strong and the skin contact made him felt they were friends. “You should run for the royalty and I think I’ll persuade them to give you more, in case you decided to sue us.” Another punch and he fought a smile.

“Jerk,” she punched again and he couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you laughing about?” He messed up her hair (tied up in a bun) and walked over to the kitchen. He wanted more blocks of sugar and she muttered something about him going diabetic in no time. Lee Ji Eun disliked many things and barely enjoyed anything, but there was one thing she hated with passion: sweets. He added one more blocks of sugar and sipped on his tea and moaned in better satisfaction. He smiled to himself knowing he wouldn’t have to dig for sugar blocks by tomorrow morning because she’ll be dropping three blocks to his cup by tomorrow.

And there was another thing she hated with passion: doorbells on Sunday morning. “So much for my peaceful Sunday,” he liked it too when she whined. She whined when she was happy. She looked happier these days and he was pleased. “I should go get it,” she muttered when he made no move to the door. She put on her glasses because she had no make-up on (she still looked beautiful but he’d never tell a girl she looked better without make-up because it’s a lie and make-up no wonders to a girl) and dragged her feet to the maroon-colored door with an exasperated sigh. She put on a smile –polite but not genuine –because she’s an idol and she had an image and she was kind.

He liked it when she’s happy and she’s been happier so everything has been lovely. But there was something about Lee Ji Eun and happiness; they never stay together for long. And so, he had dreaded it on the day he screamed for mercy and there was this fear in his head that the day would soon come and he would never see her smile anymore. He waited for the day the doorbell rang on peaceful Sunday morning and for the packaged to arrive. He’d let her open the door and he wouldn’t say a word because it would be all too much by then. So, the moment her exasperated sigh reached his ear and the door clicked behind her, he knew it was nightmare coming through.

Lee Ji Eun had her charms when she was graceful. She looked so beautiful and angelic, full of grace and her smile melted him in a way a heart shouldn’t melt. She was beautiful but distant. Her charms grew a little lovelier when she’s dancing on stage and laughed out loud about everything. She looked humble and beautiful in a very natural way. He liked it when she’s being loud because she looked so happy and humble, so down-to-earth. She was beautiful even in silence. Her lips formed a thin line as her gaze shot out through the window, the unspoken become loud in her eyes. But he always hated it when she was silent. He wanted to tear her head apart to see what was inside because she was hard to understand (every woman was).

By the time she settled back on the couch and the ripped pieces of paper scattered on the ground, silence took over and he caught the glimpse of her slumped shoulder. He knew he was officially doomed. The silence was too long and he hoped she’d just break already so he didn’t have to bear with so much guilt. This time, he knew it’d take more than glue and tape to fix her (it always took more than that anyway).

“You… do you know about this?” she asked in such a manner that gnawed him from inside out. He could hear the ticking clock for the next minutes as she stared longer at the wedding invitation. “Of course you do! You’re a member of the team! And oh god, you didn’t tell me!” she trembled but there was numbness in the emotion she displayed. “Oh… my god…” she cried, “you come back home because of this… because you knew how much heartbreak I’ll have to bear and you pity me!” She had hoped he came back because this was home and he liked her as much as she liked him.

“Jieun…” he ran a hand through his hair in an exasperated manner. “I –I don’t…”

“You know how I will feel about this. You should have told me.” She screamed and they fought. They hadn’t fought for a long time. “I’ll have been broken. I’ll have cry. The heartbreak will be there, Luhan… but this… being oblivious for a long time… will never save me from the heartbreak.” She let tears cascaded down her cheek. He wished he could wipe them off but his touch would burn her right now.

“It’s a shotgun marriage.” He told her and something flickered in her eyes, as if something in her mind finally clicked. He knew she was wondering about the midnight phone calls she often shared with her ex and if it ever means something for him.

“Yes.” She spoke softly. “Yes,” and she ran back to her room and cried and cried and cried.

A/N

I don't know if this chapter turns out well, but I was so emotional while writing this. This gets me back on track. And again, handwriting half of the chapter keep me inspired. It's been a long time since I handwrite a story. Anyway, I'd be waiting for reviews!