When I closed the door behind me, the air got less suffocating. I breathed heavily. A tear trickled down my cheek and I didn’t even realize it was coming. I just stood there, immobile. My stomach felt empty but I wasn’t hungry for food. I was just…What was I feeling?

I strained away from the thought. I didn’t know how I felt in my stomach or if I did feel something but figuring out seemed like it would take a long time.

I placed my hand on my chest, feeling the wild beating of my heavy heart. I breathed in and out. In and out. I slapped my cheek lightly and my fingers left a pink mark but I didn’t feel it at all.

It’s okay, I told myself inwardly. It still is. I still had time and I had homework to do. I had homework to do.

I dressed down to home clothes and stood in front of the mirror. I smiled at my reflection but it just looked like a grimace.

I placed the laptop on the table and pressed the power button on. It buzzed to life lightly and a white screen appeared as it started up its system.

“What is it about?” Mino asked as he sat down on the floor beside me.

My eyes remained glued on the screen, unable to meet his.

“Love,” I muttered under my breath and he didn’t reply.

I started up MS Word and it loaded again.

“We need to write something,” I turned to him and he just looked at me, waiting for more. “It’s about love.”

“Love,” he repeated.

“Yes, love,” I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t know about it!”

He raised an eyebrow in question as if to say ‘Really?’

“Please. You know me well,” I said and the fact that he was leaving was pushed to the back of my head. I kept it there and locked it away. It wasn’t a good time to think about that now. I didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just do your thing,” I pushed the laptop closer to him and he just stared at it. Mino was an aspiring rapper.

It took a minute before he spoke again. “What will you do if I wasn’t here?”

I blinked, wondering how to take that question. There were two ways to answer it. “I’ll copy from a novel or something,” I answered even though it didn’t seem like the answer to his question.

If I was a little more honest, the answer would be ‘I don’t know.” I didn’t know what I’d do without him.

He grinned in response and it made me realize that I really shouldn’t be thinking about this now. His grin opened the wound in a way, though. His grin was something I wouldn’t see for six months.

“Why don’t you write that you don’t know then? Or write a fairytale. It’s writing! You can create whatever you want.”

“I don’t know,” I answered his first question truthfully this time but it was very subtle I doubted he got the hint. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you say that you can only write from experience? Same case applies for me.”

“Yes and all my lyrics are about one-sided love if not about life. I’m as inexperienced as you are.”

“That’s not true,” I scrunched up my nose in disagreement. I could lose myself in this conversation and that would be the better thing.

“Then do you think I’d keep a girlfriend a secret from my best friend?”

I smiled and knew it was a genuine smile.

“I’m blank now,” he offered and I waited for a moment. “It’s not like I can just summon words when I want to write. They just come whenever they’re ready.”

“And you’re not ready now?”

“Well, I brought The Notebook.”

The Notebook was where he put all his lyrics and he never let me touch it. My mouth gaped. “The Notebook!” I repeated and he