I hummed to myself, stirring the metal spoon in my cup of cocoa absentmindedly. The sweet aroma slowly wafted through the small kitchen, and I let out a sigh of relief and disappointment as I recounted the events of today.

It had been an awfully long day at work, and my boss, who happened to be going through a mid-life crisis, decided to be extra temperamental today, doubling the workload of every employee in the office.

By the time I had finished whatever I could in the office, the clock had already indicated that it was ten, and I had no choice but to reluctantly pack up the heavy stacks of paper I had to bring home to complete over the long weekend. I hated doing work outside of the office, and despised bringing it home so much. If I could have stayed overnight in the office to clear the documents on my ‘In’ tray, I would have, but the security officer had been threatening to call the cops on me, so I had reluctantly stepped out of the dimly-lit building which my colleagues had already vacated hours ago.

I had squeezed my way on the train, bumping into others and having many others jab at me with their sharp elbows, step on my toes and collapse onto my smaller frame every time the train jerked forward or to a stop. On a regular day, I would have taken the bus, where I could have had my own private space to myself for the entire forty minutes of travelling time – be it standing in a corner, or having the pleasure of occupying a whole seat to myself. Still, tomorrow was New Years’ Day, and the bus services had ended twenty minutes before I had called it a day, leaving me with no other choice than to take the train which went in a loop, rather than going straight in the direction of my apartment.

To sum it up, it was an unarguably tiresome day, and I wanted nothing more than to take a quick shower, and fall onto my bed with nothing to worry about as I drifted off to the deep sleep that I knew I definitely needed.

I pulled out the keys in my wallet to unlock the door, and removed my sneakers before stepping inside and locking the door safely behind me. It was only when I had walked past the full-length mirror in the walkway did I realise that I had worn completely mismatched socks to work today. It was a good thing I was wearing black pants, but I wondered if anyone had noticed the contrasting yellow and red sock I had on both my feet.

I chuckled softly, then rubbed my eyes and realised how sleepy I was getting. Frowning, I lightly slapped my cheeks, stopping the yawn that had escaped halfway. I could not afford to fall asleep now. If I wanted to enjoy an undisturbed ten hours of sleep, I needed to finish up the last of my paperwork before I hit the hay.

I sipped at the warm cocoa, smiling at how Jaebum would have laughed at me if he saw me now.

You’re overworking yourself, I closed my eyes briefly and imagined his chiding voice, as he placed both his hands on his hips and stared at me disapprovingly.

You’re lying to yourself, I pictured the corners of his mouth draw upwards, as he pointed at my choice of beverage, if you wanted to stay awake, you would have made a cup of coffee or tea.

“I miss you.” The words had left my mouth before I registered it, and the quietness that followed my almost silent whisper made my hands tremble. My hands flew to my face quickly, gently closing my eyelids and pressing my cheeks down with pressure – but not so much that it hurt. It had become a small habit I picked up, every time I found myself about to break down when I had begun to drown in my thoughts of Jaebum.

It hurt so much, to love somebody you could not see when you wanted to. It hurt to think about him when I knew that I would only be able to see him once or twice every few months. It hurt to see him on television and in headlines, smiling handsomely and singing and dancing and fulfilling his dreams. It hurt to date an idol, and I had already known what I had been setting myself up for when we had gotten together, and yet I still could not tame the storm of emotions that stirred inside me whenever I found myself missing him.

I cried hard, my chest rising and falling with sobs that I muffled by covering my mouth with my hand.

Stop crying, he would have said, his face wearing the sad smile that would have made me cry even harder.

I’m sorry, he would have pulled me into a hug, and I would have wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer and closer until I could not breathe and we could not move, bound to each other tighter than a knot.

I dried the rest of my tears, resolutely trying to pull myself together. Jaebum would never have wanted me to be crying in the kitchen over him. It was a moment of weakness I all