Diana decided to write Jing a letter, the old fashioned way, with pen and paper. This was the way she wrote her music. Something about typing it on a keypad just cheapened it; made it less human.

The letter used some of the sentiments Diana had included in Stay, so that Jing would know she wanted her in her life, even if they weren't a couple.

She begged her to meet, phone, email, anything, just so she could understand the situation.

(...)

Yes, you said you didn't love me. EVER. And I heard your new single. How did the same person write that and Pian Ai? I always admired your steadfastness and your ability to wear your affections on your sleeve even at your mom's family dinners. Pian Ai was embracing who you are. Wo Bu Ai NiLe, though beautifully written by the way, is just a kick in the crotch.

You are a rare pearl in Taiwan. What other artist speaks out like you do, unafraid of being dissed because you don't write songs about boys?

Speaking of boys - I can't believe you're dating one? Did you say he was your boyfriend just to hurt me? If so, that was really low.

(...)

I miss you terribly. I guess you can't know what that feels like since you've never been in love with me. And I'm sure your "boyfriend"  is there to look after your needs. It would be selfish of me to ask you to come back to me. But I miss you. SO MUCH, JING. If you like men now, I wish you happiness....but I'll still miss you.

Jing told Howie about the letter a week after she received it. She was at her wits' end after struggling all week to write something back.

Diana was right - she deserved closure. But what could Jing say that would make any sense? Diana didn't deserve this. She was a great person. And Jing hadn't deserved someone so awesome.

Howie assured Jing that she was a great person too, but a very messed up great person. From across the couch, Jing stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well, what? Telling someone you don't love them when you're clearly enamored is pretty dumb," Howie pointed out.

"Maaan...am I that obvious?" Jing asked.

Howie raised an eyebrow at her and added, "If I stopped finding you crumpled on the floor in a blubbering heap, maybe I'd believe you didn't love her."

"What should I do, then?" Jing asked.

"Call her?" Howie said this as though it were obvious.

"I can't! What would I say?"

"Um "sorry" for starters. Then maybe explain that your cowardly self stepped back into the closet," Howie's bluntness would've made Jing laugh were she not so depressed.

"You know, she thought I was so cool because of how out I was? How in a million years would she accept me being "straight" after that?"

"Well. Then don't call her!" Howie sighed in mock-frustration.

"You're no help at all," Jing declared.

"I find it amusing that someone so outspoken in her songs could be this sheepish in real life."

"How do YOU know my songs?" Jing said antagonistically.

"I've been doing my research, Miss! Pshh...how embarrassing if someone were to ask Howie, I just LOVE your girlfriend's songs - where do you think she gets her inspiration? and I didn't have a clue?" Howie rolled his eyes.

Jing flung a pillow at Howie.

"God...I was just TIRED of being so out that everyone was in my business. And most of my long-time friends, not to mention, my family, deserted me. That is a lonely feeling. Sometimes being loud and proud is lonelier than being stuck in the closet," Jing ranted.

"I wouldn't know," Howie remarked. Nobody knew he was gay apart from Jing and a small handful of friends. "You're looking at another coward, right here," he jerked a thumb towards his chest.

"Don't call me a coward," Jing snapped.

"Jingy, I called myself a coward," Howie's invisible halo glowed above his smart- cranium.

"Shut up - I caught the nuance loud and clear," Jing smirked.

"Anyway, you seem better at expressing yourself through metaphors in lyrics than through regular everyday conversation. Why not write what you want to tell Diana in a song?"

"I already did that. It's called Wo Bu Ai NiLe, remember?"

"No, I mean a song that ISN'T about NOT loving her, doofus. Something honest, about why you can't be with her. Of course she wouldn't believe you if you just say Sorry, I lied about our love and now i have a boyfriend. I'd suspect she knows you better than that after 2 years. If instead, you'd confided in her about your burden of being a teen-idol-gay-media-darling, she may have understood." Howie offered.

Jing blew her overgrown bangs from her eyes, "What. The. Eff am I gonna do?"

"Were you listening just now? Want me...to...say...it...slower?" Howie could really piss her off - he was lucky they were only fake-dating.

"Ugh," she frowned.

"Jingy, just tell her the truth. Why do both of you need to suffer like this? Hell, why do I need to suffer with your forlorn estranged-lover pouty-face?"

Jing groaned.

Later that night, after Howie had gone home, Jing plugged her ears with ample tunes to block out any outside disturbances. She had no idea how this letter would turn out, but she tried for the umpteenth time this week to make it effective. She wrote continuously, but kept scrapping her words. They just sounded contrived, or like she was making excuses for her behavior.

At 4 AM, she pulled off her earphones and announced aloud to no one in particular, "Screw this," and retreated to her bed until noon the next day.