Perhaps it was fate, but of course I still didn’t believe in fate. Minho and I were never meant to be anything more romantic and less platonic than best friends.

And neither were Taehyun and I.

Just days after the end of the first semester of sophomore year, on Christmas Eve, we, along with Minho, his girlfriend, Patricia, and her date, attended a mutual friend’s Christmas party. It was probably the worse decision I made in my life.

I had spent my past holidays with my two best friends, yet that year, I was about to spend it with Taehyun. It was not that I had no romantic feelings for him; it just all seemed much too forced. Yeah, I was going to pull the “selfless” card and say that he deserved better than me. But, seriously, he did. Who deserved a messed up heart like mine? Not Song Minho and, definitely, not Nam Taehyun. I didn’t even start dating him due to the right reasons. I soon realized – much too late – that I said “yes” to him to end the chapter that I started with Minho.

So I was going to break up with him that night. Obviously, that was the second most wretched time a person can pick to end a relationship. Christmas, really? And seeing Minho having a happily ever after with Jenny definitely did not help my case of screw-up feelings.

“Tae,” I whispered into his ear after the multiple glasses of champagne graced me with some courage. He turned to me and flashed me a content, completely innocent smile that I was about to wreck and taint. The muscles in my gut clenched uneasily as I returned a cracked one. “Can we go to the balcony?” Like the ever-so-selfless, caring guy he was, he nodded and smiled even more brightly.

The cold, crisp winter air flushed our cheeks that were defenselessly exposed to the elements. The lively, warm party beyond the thick glass doors shone bright lights on us, who were chained by the chilly darkness. “What’s wrong, babe? Are you feeling stuffy?”

“Somewhat…”

“We should go back in soon, though, since it’s really cold,” he whispered into my ear as he held me protectively within his arms and gently rubbed my arms to retain some warmth. The comfort of his chest only further shamed me.

I let my eyelids fall closed to hold back the tears that were painfully stinging my dry eyes. Did I even have a right to cry right now? “Yeah, after I finish.”

“Finish what?”

“Can we talk?” Before he can ask about what, I added the phrase that perhaps shattered our entire future, “About us.” His entire tall frame faltered, but his grip on my wavering body tightened ever so slightly, as if I was a toy that his mother was about to take away.

“What...what is it?”

“I don’t think this is right.”

It wasn’t right. Because whatever I was doing and feeling was so wrong and horrible. I could no longer meet his puppy-dog eyes that always shone that brilliant hazel color. I couldn’t even bring myself to enjoy the warmth he was radiating or the feeling of his chin perfectly aligning with the crown of my head. I no longer had a right to enjoy his presence.

The Christmas carol and party songs silenced our thoughts and it was as if we lost our ability to speak coherently again, until he broke the thick scarf of tension and silence.

“So you still love him.”

His tone was not hostile or angry, which broke my heart even further. I was furious at myself – furious for even leading him on in the beginning, furious for deceiving myself that I actually had the capability to love Taehyun, furious for hurting him, furious that I was not hurt by the idea of breaking up with him but rather the guilt that was consuming me.

Taehyun pulled back, but his hands remained on my frozen arms, as if attempting to protect me from the corrupt world; he stared into my eyes, making my resolve retreat cowardly. My lips parted in surprise. How did he even know that I liked Minho? Who was I fooling; it was so obvious.

“Tae, I-”

“Babe, I know you like me. You really do.” And he grinned yet again. I didn’t understand how he could bring his facial muscles to curve upward when tears already escaped my eyes. But I did not fail to catch the wet shimmer in his. “I know those hugs, kisses, and everything else were all genuine.”

“Taehyun…”

I was being such a coward.

“I know. And I know you loved me, too, and you told me. But you don’t love me in that way. There’s only one spot in your heart for that one person you love unconditionally – in a romantic way. And someone else has already taken up that spot, so I guess I just have to take another spot – probably as a friend.”

“I’m sorry...I really am. I should have never–”

“No, don’t apologize.” As my eyelids fluttered closed, I felt his lips on my forehead before they met with mine for what I knew was a final time. “Our time together really made me happy, and I only hope it made you happy, too.”

“It did – it really did.”

“Then that’s all that matters. I know you love me, Jen, but not in the way you love Minho.”

At that moment, we both turned to gaze at the scene beyond the glass. I knew what Taehyun wanted me to observe, and I knew he was not forcing me to do so out of spite but rather to wish me luck. Beyond the clear glass were delightful scenes – couples, whose disparate parties used to celebrate Valentine’s Day with me, dancing contently while soaking under the multicolored Christmas lights and the wonder of being with each other. Among them were my best friend and his dazzling date smiling with rosy tints on their cheek, slyly exchanging subtle glances and hushed murmurs. I couldn’t shatter such a beautiful, complete frame to relieve my heart that was homelessly living in the shambles.

I was not the protagonist of a fairy tale; the relationship of my dreams and nightmares would not start as this one ended. Minho would not suddenly realize his non-existent romantic feelings for me and break up with his girlfriend. That was just delusional.

But how far from being delusion was I actually?

Nonetheless, they didn’t break up, and I did not wait idiotically for Minho to develop some sort of feelings for me. During junior year, I dated Kim Jinwoo, a friend from a hip-hop dance crew, and after a short year of together, we found ourselves drifting apart. I tried to convince myself that I no longer had romantic infatuation towards Minho, and I succeeded for the most part. Yet, Jinwoo and I still had our own problems. This time, however, I was not the one at fault.

It was Wednesday – Girl’s Night Out. That night, Patricia and I decided to have a reunion with a few college friends, so eight of us decided to go to an upscale club together. After we became situated in a private room, Patricia and some others forcefully dragged me onto the dance floor.

It was not the two shots of hard liquor in my system or the darkness accompanied by flashing lights or even the resonating bass that made me stumble in my stiletto heels. It wasn’t even the unwelcomed, repulsed body heat and sweat clutching onto my skin as groups of people pushed past my frozen form.

“Jinwoo.”

The said male turned away from his company to face me. I felt the isolated pounding in my chest increasing in intensity and speed, the coldness of Patricia’s hands on my trembling arms, and the stinging in my dark eyes.

“J-Jen.”

He actually stuttered. I breathed a trembling scoff before closing the space between us and stared him in the eye. Although he was an entire head taller than me, my pumps and sudden courage aided me in doing so. I observed his confidence waver, and he almost cowered in guilt, like a child caught in the act of stealing from the cookie jar. I observe the girl that was grinding on him just a minute ago squint her eyes in question.

Deciding that she was innocently in the dark, I informed, “I’m his girlfriend,” with a tight smile. Before she could even react, I added, “At least, I was a minute ago. Can you give us a minute? Don’t worry; after I’m done, you can grind on him all you want – literally  him, date him, even.”

Jinwoo’s eyes widened and his hands scrambled to grab onto my wrist, but I only offered a sarcastically mocking glare.

“Nice bro you have there.”

“Jen-look-listen, I came to hang out with the guys, and she just came–”

“I don’t think I asked you a question, did I?”

“Jen–”

“I don’t want or need an explanation,” I sighed in exhaustion. “I’m so sorry that I’ve been such a bad girlfriend that you had to find another girl at a ing club.”

“That’s not it–”

“I guess it’s karma, but I’m going to do this anyway,” I said before throwing my fist into his face, striking his nose squarely.

It was karma – karma for hurting Taehyun three years ago, karma for being a selfish coward. Afterwards, I didn’t even date for a while, let alone getting into another relationship.

***

After showering, I begin to blow dry my hair as I visually trace the diamond droplet shaped like a star hanging on the white gold necklace around my neck. Even after all these years, I still wear the necklace he gave me days before our parting – a charm of our memories. Even after countless disagreements and tears shed, it still shines proudly at the center of my chest.

I march with heavy steps to my walk-in closet and scan the row of dresses. One still drapes with sealed protective plastic covering – the one Patricia has specially sent for today. I pull the flowing, blood red dress off the bar, allowing my eyes to focus on the black lace dress next to it. The black lace dress, paired with pumps – an outfit I wore to a company dinner, a night before he has convinced me to try again.

“Oh, look who decided to grace us with her lovely presence?” the voice that managed to pull my lips into a genuine smile every time, without fail, hollered from halfway across the grand banquet hall.

I turned around to face the said male and smiled even wider. “Are you that surprised to see me here?”

“Well you kind of rejected the honor of being my date by saying that you might not come, but now you’re here so…”

I chuckled light-heartedly before replying, “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re going to hold it against me? I actually managed to finish my work today, okay? And I’m sure another beauty has taken up on your offer without you even having to ask.”

“Okay, fine, I forgive you. But I’m still dateless, so you owe me a dance, Miss Chen.”

“It would be my pleasure to dance with you, Mr. Kang.”

And it was. When all the guests took their respective seats and the string quartet began to play classical pieces, Kang Seungyoon rose from his seat, and I watched him take every non-calculative step towards my table. The smirk on his face was present and striking as ever, and I wondered why I actually rejected the offer of being his date for the night. It was not even the haughtiness of having one of the top ten bachelors of our company as my admirer and date. It was not even the satisfaction of receiving the jealous stares and ogles from on-lookers. It was not the idea of moving on that seemed so desperately inviting.

It was the sudden heat that rushed to my cheeks, gracing them with a rosy, teenage shade of pink. It was the sudden bliss similar to that of reliving a teenage crush.

But, it was not a teenage crush. I questioned if I even felt that much intensity of passion towards Seungyoon, but I knew for a fact that I was infatuated.

In all honestly, I could not admit without flinching once that I completely forgot about Minho. I could not claim without blinking that I truly liked Seungyoon, because I didn’t.

Seungyoon began as a stranger in a foreign company. Then, he became a simple coworker, who pulled all-nighters with me. He was the one who bought me healthy snacks and double-shot espressos, read over my proposals for drowsy errors, and woke me up in time for my presentations. He was the one that I began to rely on and trust for the first time.

“Oh my god!”

I exited the elevator to my apartment and jumped at the sight of Seungyoon leaning against the wall beside my door with one leg bent and the foot resting on the wall. He was holding a bright, lavish bouquet of twenty roses in his left hand and a guitar in his other. He jumped at the shrill sound of my voice and straightened his figure, flattening the wrinkles on his black fitted suit before approaching me with a crooked smile.

“Seungyoon, what are you…”

“Uh, happy birthday?”

“I-what-you–”

“Okay, I know this is kind of abrupt, and like…no-well-you-I. Okay, you already know I like you–”

“Yeah…”

“A lot. Yeah, it’s obvious. It was on purpose. Wait, I brought my guitar to–” he adds with his deep chuckle.

“Yes, yes it is very obvious, Yoon.” I don’t mimic his chuckle, but I do return a shy smile.

“So, do you like me back? Like, will you date me?”

For once, I didn’t think about my past. I didn’t think about Minho before making my decision. I didn’t logically think about my horrid past with him before wrapping my arms around Seungyoon and pecking his cheek.

“Yes.”

***