On normal Friday afternoons, Suyeon is usually tutoring students. Unfortunately, the 3 girls she was scheduled to teach tonight mysteriously cancelled.

“Is there any particular reason?” Suyeon had asked them. “You’re missing out on an opportunity to improve your grades and learn more.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that,” each of them had giggled. Their voices were breathy and high-pitched. For some reason, it infuriated Suyeon.

“These adolescent girls,” she growls, thumping a hand down on her desk. “I bet they’re going to skip tutoring to go to the mall or something. Jeez.”

“Suyeon, honey, can you pick up some milk and sugar from the grocery store?” Suyeon’s mother calls from downstairs. “Your father and I are going to bake a cake!”

Suyeon groans. This must be another part of her parents’ “Let’s-try-to-fall-in-love-with-each-other-again” plan that they started last week. Apparently, it is guaranteed to bridge the differences in her parents’ marriage and make them remember why they really loved each other.

At least, that’s what their marriage counselor said.

Suyeon stomps downstairs. She nearly pukes when she sees her father fondling her mother’s face in the kitchen.

“You think you have it hard?” Suyeon’s little sister, Jaemi, asks her. “I’ve had to deal with this since 3 o’ clock. All I want to do is watch my dramas. I don’t want to watch their gross love stuff.”

“Oh, god,” Suyeon laughs. “Good luck. Want anything from the store?”

“Nah,” Jaemi shrugs. “See ya.”

Suyeon shrugs on her sweater and heads to the supermarket. Her parents asked for milk and sugar? “I’m sure they won’t mind if I pick up some pocky and banana milk and stuff too,” Suyeon chuckles, tossing several packs of sweets in her shopping basket. After dumping half of the content of the snacks aisle into her basket, Suyeon heads to the cashier to check out.

She idly taps her fingers on the counter as an employee scans her items. I hope Mirae’s stomach feels better, Suyeon thinks. It that she got cramps so suddenly, right at lunch time. Although her best friend told Suyeon that her stomach was just hurting, Suyeon cannot shrug the expression on Mirae’s face from her mind.

She looked so terrified and scared when she got to the table, Suyeon recalls. Mirae was so pale. Hm.

A flash of bright red out of the corner of Suyeon’s eye catches her attention. She turns and spots a colorful advertisement hanging on the wall of the supermarket.

Her jaw drops.

The next moment, she has ripped the advertisement down from the wall.

Two tall, handsome boys, clad in fake glasses and sleek clothing, pose in the middle of the picture. Both are tilting their faces at different angles. The boys are eyeing the camera with seductive stares, biting their lips and making scandalous bedroom eyes.  (picture)

Sunset Tutoring Service, bright purple words read below the picture. Guaranteed to help you learn the best, from the best. A telephone number is written underneath.

“Oh my god,” Suyeon whispers, clapping a hand to . “So that’s why we’ve been losing business lately. All our customers are hiring these idiots to tutor them instead!”

“Ma’am? Your items are ready,” the cashier calls to Suyeon.

“I- I need to call Mirae,” Suyeon says, fumbling for her phone. “So this is our competition. Oh my god!”

Mirae sits in the reception area, staring straight ahead at the blank white wall.

I hate my life, she thinks. Mirae cringes, and then adds, I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life.

No! a voice shouts in Mirae’s head. You can’t do that! Mirae’s palms are beginning to itch. She grits her teeth, twisting her hands around.

“Are you okay?” a warm voice asks. Mirae turns. A tall man, probably around 45 to 50 years old, is staring at her in concern.

She exhales. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

“First time here?” he asks.

Mirae shakes her head curtly. “No.”

“Well, it’s my first time here,” the man says, and Mirae looks away uncomfortably. She does not like talking to people here. She would rather stay invisible, inconspicuous, alone with her and her problems.

“My old therapist retired,” he continues. “So he referred me here. I must say, I don’t know it I’ll like it here. I mean, the magazines here are at least a year out of date!” The man bursts into laughter, and Mirae cringes. Any moment now, this man is going to ask the dreaded question.

“So, what are you here for?” he inquires. Bingo, Mirae thinks sullenly.

“I have bipolar disorder. I’m type 2, which isn’t as severe as type 1.” The man shakes his head. “It used to be really bad for me. I suffered from mixed state- do you know what that is?”

Suddenly, a kind-faced woman emerges from inside a door and calls, “Hwang Mirae?” Thank god, Mirae thinks.

“Bye,” she mutters to the man, who smiles at her.

The woman leads Mirae to a cozy, warmly-lit room at the end of a hallway. A short, balding man is sitting in a leather chair, his hands folded in his lap. When he sees Mirae, he stands up and grins.

“Mirae! How are you doing today!” the man asks.

“I’m doing fine, Dr. Yoon,” Mirae mumbles. She takes a seat in the leather chair next to the therapist.

“So, let’s talk about what’s going on. I haven’t seen you in weeks! How’s the tutoring business going?” Dr. Yoon questions in a friendly voice. Mirae shrugs.

“It’s going well,” she responds.

“And is Suyeon doing okay?” Dr. Yoon chuckles. “How’s her crush on Hoseok?”

Despite herself, Mirae breaks a grin. “Fine, but she still won’t admit to her crush.”

“I see,” Dr. Yoon laughs. “Well, when I was in middle school, I had a crush on my classmate for years. I never told her, but the day I was planning to confess, I learned that she had moved to Busan.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No matter,” Dr. Yoon shakes his head comically. “But I’ll stop talking about myself. How are you doing, Mirae? Did you complete your homework?”  

Mirae’s eyes hit the floor. She swallows.

“I... I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “The first week, I was doing fine. I... I didn’t do anything in 4s. And one of my students was wearing an orange sweater, and I didn’t feel anything. Also I didn’t think about anything bad. But today...,” Mirae’s mind flashes back to lunctime, her breakdown in the cafeteria. Suyeon’s confused, troubled expression.

“You know what Mirae?” Dr. Yoon sticks out his hand. “Give me a high five. I’m proud of you. OCD isn’t something easy to overcome, and you completed most of your homework.”

Mirae reluctantly gives Dr. Yoon a high five.

“You’re making progress, Mirae,” Dr. Yoon smiles. “And I am incredibly proud of you. 2 years ago, it might have seemed like you could have never gotten where you are today. But these CBTs are paying off!”

“Thanks, Doctor.” Mirae laughs softly.

Dr. Yoon nods. “Today, we’ll focus on symmetry. Mirae, when you see something asymmetrical, or something that’s not in place, how do you feel?”

A shudder courses through Mirae’s body. “I- I feel sick. Then sometimes I can’t breathe. It’s strange and unnatural and... and evil.”

“Why do you feel that way? Do you feel like something bad is going to happen?”

Mirae nods eagerly. “Yes, definitely. I feel like... something horrible will happen to me. Then when I part my hair to the center, I feel okay. But then I think about it again and I have to part my hair again, and it just never stops.”

“I see. Mirae, today we’re going to test that out.”

Mirae’s stomach drops. She knows exactly what is coming.

“Here, I have something.” Dr. Yoon hands Mirae one of the most terrifying, disgusting images she has ever seen in her life. A large white diamond sits at the right of a large piece of paper. Inside it, jagged, raised black lines scribble this way and that, tearing diagonally and horizontally and around other lines and on the outside of the diamond.

The sight causes Mirae to shriek loudly and scramble backwards. Her fingers dart up to her hairline and she smooths her hair back, runs her finger through the center, and parts it. Mirae repeats this action over and over again, trying to sooth herself of the gruesome picture.

“Mirae, are you ready to try again?” Dr. Yoon asks gently, and this is why Mirae hates these ERPs, this is why Mirae hates therapy and this entire damn place. Taking desperate gulps of breath, Mirae slowly nods. And she faces the picture again.

It continues.