Your POV:
So I’m guessing he didn’t hear about my second or my first suicide attempt.
“Nothing,” you say, tying a knot, securing the white apron onto your tiny frame. “So, what’s my first job?”
The guy seemed surprised—both his eyebrows were raised, and he scratches his head like he is confused by something strange. You glance at his sweaty hands, which he wipes onto his apron. He gulps.

As you wash the cups and dishes, you observe your co-worker a bit more. His face does not have any sharp features; he has a rounded jaw, large eyes, straight nose and soft lips. His hair is blonde, curling slightly, and you tilt your head. He seems familiar.

“You,” you call. “What’s your name?”
You can see him fumble and almost drop the coffee mug from his hands.
“Y-You don’t remember me?” he asks you, pointing to his chest.
“Remember what?” you raise an eyebrow, because you weren’t able to hear the end of his sentence.
His expression suggests that he is incredibly pained, and he even clutches to his chest. He furrows his eyebrows slightly, and the corner of his lips tug down.
“Uh, excuse me for a second.” he says as he walks out the back door of the coffee shop.

Slightly worried and slightly curious, you open the back door, poking your head out. The stranger, who’s name you are still unaware of, slumps on the ground, leaning against the wall. His eyes are closed, and his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks so stressed. You gently place your hand on his shoulder.
“Gwaenchanayo? (Are you okay?)” you ask him.
“Ah,” he flinches, looking up to your eyes. “I’m okay, I just needed some fresh air.”
You take a seat next to him and pluck the grass at your heels.

“So, what is your name? I didn’t get it.” you ask.
“Choi Junhong,” he finally replies. “Just call me Zelo.”
“Zelo?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
What a name.
“Yeah, Zelo.” he repeats, standing up.
“I’m—” you begin.
“Kim Madeline.” he finishes your sentence as you get up in amazement.

“How did you know?” you ask as you both wash the coffee mugs together.
“I just do.” is all he says before silence replaces the gap between the two of you.
As you bid farewell to the ahjumma and leave the shop, Zelo grabs your wrist, stopping you from moving any further. The pressure of his hand on your skin feels vaguely familiar.
“Can we talk?” he asks you.
“Uh sure,” you reply as he lets you go. “Waeyo? (Why?)”
“I just want to know my co-worker better,” he replies with a smirk.

As you walk to the hospital, Zelo whistles casually while fiddling with his thumbs.
“You are a trainee at the college?” he asks in a quiet voice.
“Yeah,” you reply as he opens the hospital entrance door for you.
“Why are we going to a hospital?” he asks, looking around, his nose wrinkling from the strong smell.
“You’ll find out,” you reply, pressing on the fourth floor of the elevator button.
“Why did you want to attend the special college? The fees are expensive and all... Did you want to chase your dreams or something?” he questions while waiting for the elevator doors to open.

“You ask a lot of questions,” you answer, slightly annoyed by his curiosity. “I was looking for someone.”
Suddenly, when you try to slide open the door to your father’s hospital room, Zelo’s hand stops you from doing so.
“Who were you looking for?” he gulps.
“His name is Lee Chanhee, my first love.” you in a soft tone as you pull open the door with a bitter expression.
You can see Zelo’s shoulders slump down. He wears that same pained expression again.

“This is my appa,” you say to him. “Annyeonghaseyo, appa, this is Zelo, a new workmate.”
You bow to greet your father and Zelo seems to do the same. Although when he rises from the bow, his eyes shift between you and your father. He frowns, and he stares at the ground quietly.
“I know you want to ask what happened, so I’ll just tell you.” you gesture for him to sit on the empty chair next to you.

“My parents were taking me and my sister to my cousin’s birthday party,” you begin. “At the stoplight, my father dropped his glasses... and yeah. I think you know what happened next.”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pulls you into his arms. You blink, surprised. You have never mustered the guts to tell this story to anyone, but for some reason, it was, to an extent, comfortable to tell this to Zelo.

“What hurts more: leaving, or being left?” you ask him, stiffling tears.
He pulls out of the hug and looks straight into your eyes.

“Leaving...” he replies sadly, sighing.
“I think being left hurts the most.” you tell him, with tears welling up in the corners of your eyes until your vision is blurry. “It hurts so much.”
Like being underwater; being alive but not being able to breathe.

As he drops you off to your dorm, you ask him one more question before he leaves. He runs his hand through his messy hair and raises his eyebrow.
“Why do you think it hurts more to leave than to be left?” you tilt your head.
“The feeling is like ripping a piece off you, and not being able to see it ever again,” he puts his hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile. “It’s painful.”