Present.

I have a regular job now, writing a column for the regional newspaper.

It's...alright, I guess. It took a while for me to mould my routine around this new aspect of my life, but I think I'm getting used to it.

The job helps, in a way. Most days, the work is enough to distract me from unnecessary thoughts. I'm reluctant to call them that (unnecessary), and prefer to use the word 'dominant', but when I really think about it, thoughts of her are irrelevant, right? Though I didn't know it back then, that's how it always was, and always will be.

But somehow, I can't bring myself to consider thoughts of her 'unnecessary'.

The boss calls a bunch of us into his office to discuss a piece he has in mind. He lays the details of the assignment down on the table for us: we each have one article to write, the same story, but only one gets published.

I think it's fine at first, and I'm liking my chances, until he tells us what the story is about.

And a part of me dies a little inside.

***

May 31

Last year

My nerves are on the brink of exploding inside of me. It's 6:55 and Yoona is still not here. I'm starting to think that the anxiety that had plagued my thoughts yesterday wasn't so silly, after all.

Yesterday, she had said goodbye. But what did she even mean?

I have no idea of knowing where she is, because I don't have her number and I don't know where she lives. I realise that I don't really know much about her, actually, except for her personality, and what good does that do me in this situation?

My mind wanders, slipping further into a state of frenzied worry. What if she's in trouble? What if she got into an accident? What if−

I shake my head firmly, as if doing so will disperse the thoughts and what-if's. Really, Luhan, I berate myself. It could be nothing. Maybe she just decided not to take the bus today, and she didn't let you know because it isn't a big thing.

The thoughts keep nagging at my mind, though, and my attempt to reassure myself fades into insignificance, combated by contradicting thoughts. Thoughts like, What about her goodbye? and She's always been here, everyday, for the past 2 or so months. Why isn't she here now?

I don't have time to linger on these thoughts for long because just then, the bus pulls into the stop.

There's a light drizzle, the clouds overhead a pearly grey, as I step out from under the bus shelter, looking left and right, scanning the areas behind and in front of me.

No sign of Yoona.

There's no one running towards the stop in a pastel coloured sweater, no one coming out of the coffee shop with a delighted smile at the light rain, and no one telling me to hurry up and get on the bus.

I realise the doors have slid open with a hiss; the driver is starting to look impatient, and I sigh, just as he opens his mouth to ask−

"Yeah, I'm getting on," I say, more to myself than the driver.

The doors close behind me, and I look out one last time.

Still no sign of Yoona.

I get off at the stop near the church as usual. I decide to visit Mom later and pray in the church first; it's been a while since I've done that.

Today must be a special day on the church calendar or something, because there are more people milling about, and the place looks brighter than usual. It looks a little different, too.

I can't quite put my finger on what's different about it, because most of the times that I've been here, the place was dimly lit, so I'm seeing some details about the church for the first time, like the fact that the ceiling is quite a bit higher than I had thought.

There aren't very many more people than usual, I realise, as I step inside, just more than usual for me to notice. They all give me friendly smiles, which I return, but I don't exchange any words with them and quietly slip into the back row, minding my own business.

I slip my rosary out of my bag, letting my eyes slide closed. The noise around me dims to a soft murmur as I slip into a state of meditation, and I can't make out individual words anymore, just enough to remind me that I'm not alone.

I'm not in a rush and take my time, murmuring my prayers under my breath as I progress along the line of rosary beads.

I hear the sounds of more people coming in. Their voices add to the noise, which has gotten louder and is now a buzz,. It gets a little harder to concentrate, so I squeeze my eyes shut a little more.

Music starts playing from the organ, and I think distantly that mass must have started. There's a swishing sound as everyone gets to their feet.

I open my eyes for a moment, curious (because all the times I've been here, I've never actually attended a mass), and as I turn, following the peoples' stares, I see something that makes my heart stop.

A group of girls in light pink dresses− bridesmaids, I realise−stand near the entrance. The ones who aren't already prancing down the aisle are smoothing their dresses down or fixing their bouquets.

And behind them, obscured by the pink satin and tulle of the bridesmaids, is someone I would recognise anywhere.

I'm hoping that I'm wrong, hoping to God and all the angels and saints that it's just someone who looks like the person I think it is, but then she turns her head and I see−

Yoona...

...in a wedding dress. 

***

A/N: Boom. 

I think some of you expected that. xD

As usual, thanks for reading ^^ If you like this story, can you please help me support it by upvoting it (if you can)? It would mean a lot to me :)