“Just shut the up!” These words echoed inside the living room. Somehow, she was glad that they were alone because everything did it for her. She was done.

The doe-eyed girl only stared at her, quite bewildered and a little scared. She had never seen her midnight snack buddy say such words. As a matter of fact, that was the first time she ever heard her say curse words since they met so it much have shocked her big time.

But she didn’t care. She was spouting nonsense, again. She was talking about things she didn’t want to hear, laughing at the stories she didn’t find interesting and reminiscing about memories she didn’t take as “their” memory because it wasn’t.

It was their memory.

“Sooyoungie~” Yoona walked towards the taller girl, reaching for her arm, trying to connect. Her voice was trailing and the taller girl wasn’t sure anymore if she wanted to stay mad or to hug her. She was cute, just like always.

But she knew that if she did that, if won’t change anything. She chose the first option, the more painful option. She stepped backward, dodging Yoona’s reach and looked at the girl, loathing. She had to tell her how she feels now.

She couldn’t gather courage to do so though because she knew that it won’t change anything. She was she, a friend and nothing but a confidant, a person whom she would tell all her happy tales, tales about them, their stories.

But what did she expect her to do? Did she expect her to laugh with her when she wants to cry already? Did she expect her to pretend that she enjoys her story when she wants to puke already? Did she expect her to be a mannequin when she’s doing the thing she hates the most?

She hated it when she talks about her excitedly. She hated it when she laughs while she talks about her. She hated it when she seems very happy as she talks about her.

She didn’t hate her.

She hated her for taking her away. She hated her for being her one. She hated her.

“Shut the up, will you? I’m tired of this. I’m tired of you talking about her. I’m tired of listening to your stories over and over again. Tell me, are you plain stupid or just insensitive?”

She knew the words will hurt her. But suddenly, it all just came out. She didn’t care anymore if she was hurting her because she was shattered already. She didn’t know anymore how she feeling or if what she was feeling was right. She was already shattered, a broken mannequin. She’s been shattered ever since she met her and she was still shattering her to pieces now, unaware.

“Sooyoungie~” Yoona whispered as she tried walking towards the taller girl again, trying to connect to her again but all she got was a cold glare, asking her to maintain distance and keeping her from connecting to her.

She looked at her coldly. She gazed at her sadly as she saw her doe eyes fell to the ground and developed tears, falling like rain from her eyes to the ground, never alone. And for once, she wished she was a tear, never alone.

She wanted so much to reach for the younger girl, to hug her and to tell her everything will be okay. She wanted to wipe those tears away and kissed her forehead, a promise to protect her and stay with her always.

But she, too, was lonely and that was an understatement. She was miserable.

“When will you be contented? I’m broken, can’t you see? And my pieces are shattered already. But you’re still breaking me over and over again… shattering my pieces over and over again!”

Maybe she reached her limit that night. Maybe she realized she was also human, fragile like glass and capable of getting hurt like everyone. Maybe she realized she wasn’t a mannequin, unmoving and unfeeling. Maybe she realized she was tired of trying not to feel. Maybe she knew all of that from the start but because of her, because of her feelings for her, she tried being a mannequin, for her.

It was not easy. She knew everything will fall apart after that night, their friendship, everything she established and made herself believe to be permanent. She knew it but she still cursed her. Could she blame herself? She was hurt, deeply hurt. And it seemed like everything just got mixed up, a detonator was handed to her and she exploded, along with those unrequited feelings, alone with those painful pretensions, along with everything including her.

“This is over,” she finally said as she stood up and got her shoulder bag from the pink couch where they always sat together to watch romantic comedy movies while eating popcorn or whatever they found on her fridge. She started to leave.

She didn’t expect Yoona to stop her. She wouldn’t stop herself if she was she. She knew Yoona loves Yuri. But still, she knew she hoped she’d stop her.

But she didn’t.

Even though she thought she was prepared for everything, even though she already told her so many times that Yoona would never look at her the way she looks at Yuri, she couldn’t stop the tears falling from her eyes as she was walking out of her apartment. She was hurting so much.

“Damn it,” she muttered to herself. “It hurts.”

Before closing the door behind her, she couldn’t help looking at her pretty face, her doe eyes, her small nose and her thin lips, as if she was memorizing them, as if she won’t have the chance to see them again. She couldn’t help asking, “You do know that I love you, right?”

She couldn’t even stand waiting for a reply because she might break down there and then. The last piece of her heart was breaking and its pieces were slowly shattering. Where? She had no idea. She just knew that they were getting lost. She didn’t even know if it would be possible to retrieve them, to retrieve all of them and bring them back together.

For her, it will take a miracle. Perhaps, an angel could fall from heaven and help her look for her heart’s shattered pieces and make it whole again.

Yoona only stared as she leave, astonished, guilty and poignant. Sooyoung closed the door as she opened to reply to her question.

“I know.”

She knew the answer. She was in love with her and it will always be that way. She couldn’t let her pity her. A person like her doesn’t deserve pity, much more love, her love.

She was out of her apartment and as she looked back, taking one last glance, she knew she won’t be hanging out there again, watching romantic comedy movies with her, rummaging her fridge and getting everything edible to share with her, and doing things they enjoy doing together. She knew it was stupid of her to throw those things away because of one thing she hated her doing but after everything that happened that night, she was at least relieved.

She was relieved because she realized she wasn’t a mannequin. She thought that she could go on forever loving her while she looks at someone else. She thought she could stay and pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t. She thought she could always smile and laugh even though she was already falling apart. Because that’s what mannequins were supposed to be, unmoving and unfeeling. She has resolved herself of being her mannequin forever.

But maybe, it just wasn’t meant to be.

“God, I still love her.”

She muttered to herself, smiling on the thought, tears still falling from her eyes, heart throbbing from losing its pieces, her entire body hurting because of exhaustion.

She was about to hail a cab when someone bumped at her from behind. She fell on her face and her nose was bleeding.

She didn’t care who bumped into her. She didn’t even care if that person will run and leave her there. She didn’t care about anything during that moment besides going home, having a nice bath and falling asleep. Many things happened already and she was tired.

But to her surprise, a pretty face met her dirty, bleeding and crying face, blonde locks falling from her face as she tucked some behind her small ears. Brown irises met brown irises and her first though was, “God, she’s beautiful~ like an ice princess from some faraway ice castle.”

Her eyes were cold, blank and almost expressionless as she stared at her, almost like of a mannequin’s. But to her surprise, her voice contained panic that registered to her as almost sweet. “Um, um~ I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Are you okay? I’m really, really sorry.” She was stuttering as she helped her stand up again.

“Here,” she said, gesturing her white handkerchief towards the bleeding girl. “Are you okay? Do you want me to bring you to the hospital? I’m really, really sorry. I wasn’t looking.”

“Um, no, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

The blonde girl smiled at her, feeling relieved and extended her right hand, “Hi, my name’s Jessica.”

The taller girl was surprised but she still gave her hand and said, “Sooyoung.”

* * * * *

End

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