It has been two weeks since I moved out and I haven’t seen Yunho at school. He was absent everyday.

I had managed to move in with an aunt who had come back from America. She was middle-aged and single, and delighted to have a child living with her.

Even though I am no longer a child, she had bought kid cereals for me to have in the morning, and had installed all the anime cables on TV. My ‘room’ was filled with stuffed-toys ranging from a hand-size bunny to a enormous 2 meter panda.

It was quite different from the Yunho's apartment, where only the basic necessities were present....My first reaction to Yunho’s absence was to call him, but then I stopped myself. I had to cut all ties with him.

I blocked out all news about him that circulated in the school and just went on to live my life without him, no matter how painful that was. Or, rather, how unpainful it was. I felt like a corpse who walked around without her heart, and someone without her heart cannot feel pain…right?

I changed schools, and went to one that was in the area where I lived my aunt.

Meanwhile, I had gotten closer to my aunt. She owned an interior-designing company and was directing her market towards Seoul when she had heard about me.

She possessed a bubbly personality, but I think she had a hidden tragic story of her own. My mom and her used to be close, I think, but some events had led my aunt to leave the entire family and never turn back. I wonder what had happened?

I think she took me in out of pity. Because I had nowhere else to go, that's why.

Is that why I live in the world: because they all pity me?

That’s alright; I can pull through college next year and find a job where I would be able to support myself. I would become a doctor, and save the lives of people so less end up loosing loved ones and become an orphan like I.

I would not only be a doctor for my patient’s body, but also for their heart.

Because I know.

Because I know how much it hurts to see a loved one hurt.

Because I know how it feels to anticipate for a dear one’s life.

Because I know how it is to hide all the trouble and the pain under a smile.

Just like Yunho did whem I treated his cuts...

I was a little hurt that Yunho had not called me…not even once.

I wondered what he could be doing right now, if he went back home, or he was still living in the old apartment by the lake.

My thoughts were filled with him as I put an empty spoon inside my mouth.

“Minah-ah, I was wondering if you wanted to move to America with me…” My aunt told me out the blue during dinner, today, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“America?”

“I know this is sudden, but I have finished business here in Seoul, I just have to hand over some details to the division manager here, and then I’ll have to return to headquarters in California.”

I opened my mouth to respond only to realize that I did not have an answer. Did I want to go?

“I know that you’re almost graduating high school, but think about it. You’ll need to go to college, and there are plenty of excellent universities back in America. It’s an opportunity which you should seriously consider.” She said in a serious tone.

I knew that it was a golden chance for me to pursue my dream, but my first reaction was a ‘no’. Was I afraid of change, or did I still hope deep in my heart that Yunho and I would meet each other again?

“Sure, I’ll go to California with you,” I answer as soon as Yunho’s name came into mind. 

“That’s great! Pack your things then, we’ll leave in two weeks!” my aunt half-yells. She really is enthusiastic.

What this called escaping? Well if escaping my problems could make me forget about him, then I was fully prepared to travel half the globe.

And so, before I left, I went to the apartment to see if Yunho was there. I told myself that I wanted to be reassured that he was safe and sound, but deep inside, I just wanted to see him again.

I walked up the cement stairs. The building still smells like cigarettes and the railings on the stairs are still so unstable.

I get to the fifth floor, and find the door open. Music is coming out of the apartment. It is weird because Yunho never organized parties in the apartment, at least not when I was there. Plus, he is never home around 3 in the afternoon.

I am clutching to the key to the apartment. I had gotten my keys copied because I wanted to keep a link between him and me. I wanted something I could remember him by, along with the photograph.

I peer in the room, and what I saw broke my heart.

There were three girls lying on the couch with him, and their hands were all over each other. He turned his head and saw me standing by the doorway but made no attempt to welcome me. He just kept his gaze fixed on me as a girl made-out with him.

The look in his eyes was so different from the soft gaze he used to look at me with. They were hard like stone. He just kept a placid face and an intense stare; a stare that seemed to go through my very bones.

The next moment was a blur, but I just ran out of the building and into the crowded streets.

I ran until my legs gave up, but my heart did not give up the pain for it was still at shock from what I had seen.

The next week was also a blur, between packing and sending school applications to taking my SAT testing. I kept myself busy so I wouldn't have to think about Yunho; I just wanted to get out of Seoul as fast as I could.

And so I was off to America. Miles and miles from Yunho; somewhere I hope to find happiness.

~~~~~ * 4 months later* ~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, my name is Park Yoochun, Micky in English.”

I look at the boy who extended his hand for me to shake.

“Hi, Minah…my name is Choi Minah.” I say as I bring out my hand to meet his.

His hands were very large and reminded me of Yunho’s. Except Yunho’s hands were often covered in cuts, while his were perfectly soft.

He was my classmate.

We had been assigned a project together for my psychology class.

I was surprised that group projects would come across in university, but it seems that the professor wanted us to work in partners to save his marking time, as well as putting to use the knowledge we had learned about group psychology. Sort of like killing two birds with one stone.

He was nice enough to put me in groups with the only other Korean in the class, considering my English was rather poor after only four months.

Unfortunately, the professor did not know that Yoochun and I had a very strained relationship.

* Flashback (in third person)*

“Chunnie! Please, pretty please?” Minah’s roommate, Tiffany, giggled on the phone.

It was already 1 AM and Minah had been unable to sleep for the past week and a half because of Tiffany’s new boyfriend. She pressed he ear plugs deeper and closed her eyes for the n-th time that night trying to catch a couple hours of sleep.

So far, Minah had been tolerating the hours-long phone calls that were made until the early hours of the day.

The last straw was when Tiffany had brought her boyfriend over to ‘have a talk’. Minah had walked in when they were making-out on HER bed and were on top Yunho’s photograph: the picture that she would stare at everyday before she closed off the light and went to sleep.

“What are you doing?! Stop…getting…your boyfriend…! No! Get off! Get out!”

Minah tried in vain to push them off her bed. She was drained from the little bit of sleep she had gotten in the past weeks, and under the circumstances that her dearest picture was at the risk of being damaged, her broken English lashed out what little common-day vocabulary she had.

*End of flashback* (A/N: so we are back in Minah’s point of view.)

Unfortunately, ever since that incident, my ex-roommate Tiffany and her boyfriend, Micky Yoochun think that I am in love with Tiffany and am jealous of their boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.

Good job teacher, you just put me in groups with a guy who thinks I'm in love with his girlfriend. I bet we'll ace this project.

Because you know, it'll all work out so well.

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