“What?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. She crossed her arms, her legs following right after. She stared forward, watching the passerbyers. 

“What’s so wrong about that?” he whispered, looking at the ground.

 “What are we then?”

 He jerked - his eyes immediately locking with hers. “What?”

 She shot up, keeping her eyes locked with his, while stepping back. “You’re unbelievable.”

 He went after her, grabbing her wrist before she made it to the crosswalk. He stared at her with words caught in his throat. He’s completely clueless.

 “That’s what I thought,” she whispered.

 She broke from his hold, shoving her fingers into his chest. “ you,” she whispered before darting down the street, seconds before the lights changed. He stood there, dumbfounded, as she rushed down to her car.

 They’re friendship dates back to when they first entered preschool. Typical boy meets girl story. At first, gender didn’t matter. They didn’t understand until they entered elementary school where cooties ruled everything. Boys didn’t talk to girls, and girls didn’t want to be near boys. Still, they managed to keep in touch. Their families lived side-by-side for years, even before they were born.

 When high school came, gender didn’t matter. They became best friends. He was the constant in her life. Always there for her when she had a broken heart, a fight with her parents, or when she was afraid of failing a class. She has always returned the gesture.

 There were feelings developing between them. Neither of them wanted to admit it, or they weren’t sure of it. They didn’t understand if it was true love they felt for each other, or was it just admiration, or appreciation.

 When he finally joined YG, they saw less of each other, but she’d make time to visit. She’d pack snacks, drinks, anything that would make him smile. She’d text encouraging words, make posters, flyers, anything to build his confidence. The other trainees (now, band-mates) loved having her around. Most of them say that his face brightens when she’s in the same room, or when she’s talking to him. He’d shrug it off, saying they’re just friends.

 One day, after one of his performances, she waited for him in the dressing room. He was sweating, shirtless, out of breath, and he collapsed by her side on the couch. Naturally, she’d comfort him, and stay there until he finally decides to move. After a few minutes, she started noticing her attraction towards him. How his sharp features worked into a handsome face. 

 That’s when she knew that her feelings ran deep.

“Thanks for coming,” he whispered, adjusting himself. Her hands fell to caress the side of his face. He sat up, and smiled. “I appreciate you always stic-“

So, she kissed him. She didn’t care, at that point, if he felt her as just a friend. She kissed him. She relaxed, feeling his hand press the back of her neck. The kiss became deeper, longer, more aggressive.

“I love you,” she whispered into his mouth. He froze, his fingers tangled in her hair. Before he could respond, there was a knock on his door. They pushed off each other, sitting as far apart the couch would let them.

That night, she stayed over. She knew from that point on, things wouldn’t be the same. He meant so much to her, that she didn’t really care; but, after that, it became a routine. She’d stop by, go to his room, and talk, talk, talk, until either one of them made a move.

But it changes, like everything else, and it lasted for months until finally, someone caught on. Her light laughs, his groans, the low bangs against the wall..

“So, you and –“ 

He denied everything – again, again, and again. He felt flustered, frustrated, and he began ignoring her, avoiding her. 

“I need to focus more on my album,” he says. 

The visits became less, and it’s noticeable how she felt about that, but she understood. She knew, from the start, that he might not feel the same way.

 His heart broke, watching her face turn to despair. Tears began to fall, and he couldn’t handle it. It’s not that he doesn’t love her, it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just didn’t want to deal with it. He left her at her doorstep.

 Thoughts ran through his head. He felt smothered, strangled, suffocated. Privacy is a luxury in his line of work, and having her as a secret, just for him, was something he cherished.

 They didn’t talk for days, weeks – then, he finally realizes it’s been almost a year.

 His album is about to release, and he never thought he’d celebrate it without her. The release party at his club was filled with hundreds, even thousands, of people – each one of them doesn’t know who he really is, minus a few. Drinking, cheering, just because he’s Taeyang – the singer, dancer. 

It’s been a month after the release, and she’s finally recovering. She’s not avoiding his posters, his shows, or anything anymore. She never knew how much he meant until a small box arrived at her door. She picked it up, shaking it slightly before entering her apartment. Tossing her bags, falling into the couch, she slowly unraveled it. 

Tears began to fall when she read the letter taped neatly on the corner of the CD case.

I miss you – Bae

She stopped by his dorm, pacing back and forth, anticipating when he’s arriving. It’s been 2 hours since she got there, still debating on sending a message.

“Eunnie?”

She stopped, hands clenching her phone against her chest, as she watched him come closer to her. It felt like fireworks, she thought, when he wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her against him. Instantly, when they walked inside, his lips were on hers, and he carried her to his room.

And now, here he is, watching her get inside her car, with tears running down her cheeks. He watched her drive off, speeding down the street.

It’s been hours since she left, and he doesn’t understand why it’s hurting him this much. He can’t be in a relationship right now. Not right now. He’s having a concert soon, Big Bang is releasing an album in a few months, and he’s going to America.

His thoughts get cut when his phone vibrates. He scanned the caller ID, shocked to see who it was.

“Eunnie?”

“Open your goddamn door,” she yells into the speaker.

He drops his phone, running towards the door to see her with bloodshot eyes. She lets herself in, rushing to his room. He heard something drop on the floor, and he was shocked to see what it was.

“I want all this ,” she yells, “gone.” He dropped to his knees, scanning to see what she’s talking about. His heart sank, seeing pictures, presents, clothing, everything that would show him being in her life being discarded. “I can’t deal with this anymore,” she continues, grabbing a picture of them, before ripping it to shreds.

“What are you doing?”

She stood up, hands running through her hair, as she backed out of his room. “There’s nothing between us anymore.”

Hearing her say that, he can’t describe how it felt. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk. He just sat there, buried in their memories when he heard her leave the building.

“You’re an idiot,” he heard someone, probably Ji, say when they passed his room.

Then, it clicked. The throbbing in his chest, the hole that’s developing – he’s never heard those words slip through her lips. He’s never been faced with this before.

So he ran. He rushed through the door, dived through the stairs, finally reaching the entrance of his building.

“Eunnie!” he yells, but no answer.

He scans to the left, the right, and sees unfamiliar faces. He dug his hands into his pocket, looking for his phone, his keys and he went to the garage.

“.”

He got to her house in less than 20 minutes. Her car wasn’t out front, but the lights are on.

“Thank God,” he said under his breath.

The door wasn’t locked, and he walked in. He looked through the house and no one was there. So he waited.

His nerves kicked in. He felt uneasy sitting on her couch, uncomfortable looking at the pictures – realizing the empty photo frame used to hold a picture of them.

It’s been an hour, and his eyes became heavy.

His hands ran through his hair, and he finally let it take over.

He became startled, hearing his phone ring.

“Where are you?”

He glanced around, and notices that the suns out. “What time is it?” His eyes widen and his jaw dropped. “What? It’s 9?” She never came home.

He left his heart there - knowing that yesterday will be the last time they see each other.

--

He’s 31 now, and he’s never had a girlfriend.

His friends are settling down – some married, some with kids.

He doesn’t, but he’s okay. He’s happy doing what he loves – composing, producing, and choreographing. Music has been his first love, followed by her, but he finally got closure - he accepted what he did, and he understood why it hurt.

He’s lonely, but he has his family.

But

There’s always something eating him away.

She’s married, and lives in Japan. She has 2 kids, and a successful husband. She doesn’t work, and she’s still as breathtaking as she was in high school.

He remembered getting a letter a few years ago – her mom inviting him to the wedding. When he went, she froze, watching him come closer to her. They left them alone, and they didn’t talk for the first few minutes together.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. Sorry he couldn’t give her what she wanted, sorry he couldn’t get over his selfishness, sorry for everything. Her eyes watered, and she forgave him. Saying she’s sorry for even trying. She told him she loved him, needed him, but she doesn’t anymore. And his lips trembled when he wanted to say I love you – say that he needs her now, and that he wants her, but he stopped when he saw her face change. Her husband came, and he couldn’t get over the way she looked when she saw him.

She was happy. She was in love, and he missed that. He missed how her eyes glistened because of him, but it’s all too late now.

--

He’s 33, and there’s a new stylist in his company. She’s younger, beautiful, and fun – and she reminds him of her, Eunnie.

He notices how she looks at him when he comes into the room, how she acts when she’s around him, but he doesn’t understand it.

But this time, he’s not too late.