I unhurriedly step into the office in the morning. Nevertheless, I am greeted by no one but empty seats. What a special way to start a day.

 

 

Thinking Joy must be on her period again and she is holding a meeting to let off some stream on my co-workers, I head straight to her office. Yet, I am wrong. My dear colleagues are gathering outside of her spacious office, mumbling, whispering, gossiping.

 

 

“Who’s that girl with Joy? She has long hair and she’s shorter than Joy.” Ariel has better eyesight than me after all. She’s not a human after all. I am constantly reminding myself this. 

 

 

 

“Good morning, Wendy.” One of them hesitantly approaches me. They know we are close and Joy respects and cares for me. “Do you know what’s happening in there? We think we’ve heard your name a few seconds before you arrived.” 

 

 

“Uhm. Good morning. Mind if I take a look first?” I flash them an awkward smile. Oh, my social skills. So they quickly clear a way for me to the french windows of Joy’s office. I frown a little as I see who there are and what they are doing.

 

 

 

“Why’s she here?” Ariel confusedly asks again, surprised as I am. I don’t entertain her question once again. Not wanting to waste any time, I push the door wide open and bluntly let myself in. Just because I feel like I have the right to know what’s going on here.

 

 

The two women fling their heads towards me simultaneously before I could say a word. They are unexpectedly shocked too. I guess they know I have to go to work, right?

 

 

“Wendy.” They both call, but in different tones. One stern, one soft, matching their personalities just right.

 

 

I try not to look at them simply because I lack the courage to, “Why and how?”

 

 

 

Seulgi frowns harder than I do, “Why haven’t you told me you are publishing a book before?”

 

 

“What?” I think my jaw has just dislocated. And my tongue tastes like mud.

 

 

Joy grumpily bolts up from her chair, “Wendy, explain, please. I need a decent explanation from you, both as your manager and your friend.”

 

 

 

“I am not going to publish a book,” Well, I am sure. How would I not know what I have done and I haven’t? I am not that forgetful. “I have nothing to be published.”

 

 

“How about those letters, which are returned or mere drafts?” Seulgi, however, stands her ground this time. “You also have some writings yourself. I thought it’s why you were so keen on having your stuff back.”

 

 

Joy just happens to push harder, “And you haven’t told me that Seulgi works with a publisher.”

 

 

 

“Hey, I didn’t know any of that.” I feel like I have just plunged into deepest deep horror. What the is happening? I am also quite sure today is no April Fool's. My so-called ex and my so-called boss are questioning the out of me this early in the morning. Not to mention I have literally never imagined these two existing in the same freaking room. It’s like the worst nightmare, ever. Worse than any remake of great films.

 

 

But then, Seulgi's facade falls first. She gives me a very sincere, apologetic smile. “I'm sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. He’s a friend of mine so it isn’t an official working relationship. He told me he got your submission emails for the latest publication and he would like to work with you.”

 

 

“As your manager and your friend,” Huffing, Joy glares hard at me and Seulgi. “I didn’t know a single thing about these. Wendy, don’t let me down.”

 

 

 

“I swear I didn’t send those damn emails.” I peevishly run my trembling fingers through my hair, feeling like a guilty child even when I am totally not.

 

 

“Wendy, don’t worry.” Seulgi softly pats my arm. I didn't even notice her closing in. “I’m supportive and I was just trying to discuss some details with Joy but she seemed so angry about this.”

 

 

“No!” Joy slams her desk impatiently and I wonder if her palm hurts. “Because the Wendy I know won’t do this and it’s just so not her. Wendy, I’d be happy for you if you can have a book of your own.”

 

 

 

I look at the colleagues outside sorrily and signal them to leave. They give us one last look with their horrified eyes before quietly returningto their own seats. I think they have heard enough. “Look, I really don’t know what hap-”

 

 

“It’s me,” 

 

 

Ariel cuts me off in the middle of my sentence, leaving Joy and Seulgi stare at me in total confusion. “I found the publisher that was looking for a talented writer. I know you got a lot of nice writings stored in your computer so I sent them to him.”

 

 

 

“Why did you do this? For me?” Steadying my posturer, I prop myself to the sofa on the side, not forgetting to show at the earpiece to the two girls.

 

 

“You deserve recognition, Wendy. I’m sorry but I want you to be happy. I thought it’d be something good that would make you happy. Like an ice cream for you.” There are so many emotions in her voice that it feels so real. So is this how advanced programming could be?

 

 

 

“Why do you care?” I cast my eyes down to my feet, and my eyes are sore but no tears would come. This is suddenly so ed up, everything. “What am I to you?”

 

 

“I’m so sorry, Wendy.” I wonder if she could really feel sorry.

 

 

 

Out of absolute frustration, I rashly throw the earpiece to the sofa and turn back to the two real humans. “I’m sorry. It’s a misunderstanding.”

 

 

“I didn’t know A.I. can do this. Maybe I shouldn’t use it.” Joy softens her tone and expression for the first time today. “They have their own thinking and they can act on their own. I’m sorry but it’s dangerous, Wendy.”

 

 

Seulgi, probably out of concern, reaches out to me again, “Are you okay, Wendy?” And I just let her hold my hand.

 

 

 

“I’m fine. And I am not publishing anything.” I look at them again, and their emotions are so true. Raw and pure, right in front of me. No mediation. “I’m sorry, to you both.”

 

 

“It’s okay.” Joy gives me a solid nod. I know she has been eyeing our intertwining hands. But Seulgi is my friend.

 

 

“I thought you have a mean boss.” Slowly letting go of my hand, Seulgi throws an unfriendly glare at the tallest girl in the room. “But it seems she is nice after all.”

 

 

 

“Hey, mind your words.” Joy widens her eyes in disbelief. “How could I let my guard down when you showed up in our office? God knows what you are going to do with Wendy.”

 

 

And surely, Seulgi is annoyed. “Why can’t I show up here and pay her a visit?”

 

 

 

“Because you broke her heart once?”

 

 

“I didn’t! We broke up peacefully and we are still friends! Ask Wendy about it.”

 

 

“I’m her friend too!”

 

 

“Then you should be nicer to me!”

 

 

 

“Can you two stop? I am getting dizzy.” I raise my voice as high as possible in order to make sure they could hear me despite their unreasonable raging anger. “I have no problem with Seulgi dropping by but Joy has her own reasons to freak out. It’s my fault. Apologies again.”

 

 

Joy childishly pouts a little, which I am relieved to see. “It’s okay. You can take a leave if you need one. I can ask the others to cover some cases for you.”

 

 

Seulgi sticks her tongue out at Joy before lifting a smile towards me, “I can give you a ride if you need one.”

 

 

 

“No, I’m okay by myself. I’ve been living alone for years, remember?” I chuckle bitterly after picking up the damn earpiece and shoving it into my back pocket. “Then I should go home first. Got things to fix. See you.”

 

 

I bet Joy and Seulgi are still having a staring battle behind my back when I leave. Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure they would work it out like grown-ups.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

I expectantly ignite the engine of my car but no one is there. I promptly switch on the GPS but no voice is coming out. I painfully shake my aching head and start my journey back home. I just want to go back, to where I feel like I belong to.

 

 

My brain and my heart are in complete mess and I barely make it home safely. Fortunately, it is still early and there’re not many cars with crazy mindless drivers except one, which is me. In fact, I think my brain and my heart have disconnected. Just like she has.

 

 

 

It’s too overwhelming. I can’t tell if I should feel stupid or what, if I should be angry or not. I am always good with words and now I can’t even describe my own feelings. It’s too inexpressible. It’s like a hand clutches onto my chest and tries to press it to my back, ready to squash me anytime.

 

 

I want to get something out from me but I don't know what it is. All I have in my mind is my bed and the taste of Scotch. Now I truly and thoroughly understand how Irene felt, everything she is trying to say and not to say from her own mouth.

 

 

 

The next thing I know is, I am already standing forlornly, in the middle of my study room with the earpiece on my hand, the tablet on the other. I plug it in and try to call, “Ariel, are you there?”

 

 

Nothing. Just me and my voice. So I connect the tablet to my computer and reboot it. “I need to speak to you. We need to talk.” I slowly sit down on a chair and gawk at the loading screen. “Come on, talk to me.” I keep pressing whatever button there is. Blankly and blindly. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Ariel, talk to me. We talk to each other everyday so why? Just tell me why, please.”

 

 

You owe me an explanation, for everything you’ve done. And I have to admit, I am blaming you, for everything you’ve done. How could you just leave me here on my own?

 

 

 

 

This is so unfair. She has disconnected and she left me alone. Stupid as I am, I am sitting here and waiting for her. I am waiting for her to talk to me again and tell me what’s in her mind. As if she has her own mind. Isn’t she just a program? Shouldn’t I have known?

 

 

I just sit there, not moving an inch. My computer is not moving, the tablet is not moving, the air is not moving. The air-con is not on, the lights are not on.

 

 

 

I honestly don’t know what to say to her if she really reconnects and reappears. But I am already missing her voice, missing her. It has already become a routine, a part of my life. I should have seen this coming but I just let it happened. And Irene has warned me.

 

 

Someone knocks on the front door, knocks me out of my thoughts. I am definitely not in the mood of entertaining any guests. And it is mostly like to be random salesperson or something in a such early hour. As if I would have my own guests. Even I start to despise myself.

 

 

Still, whoever is knocking should be an incredibly persistent person. I feel bad for idling over nothing and not opening the damn door. So I move my feet and hands, and open the damn door. I swing it open and it reveals a short girl with big eyes. I have never seen her before and I certainly don’t know her. 

 

 

Don’t tell me Ariel has adopted a child for me. “Hello?”

 

 

She blinks and immediately juts her lips. So I look like a bad person now? So I speak again, “Hello, may I help you?”

 

 

 

The young girl switches her gaze between her phone screen and me, “H-hi. Arghm. Isn’t this Bae Joohyun’s house?”

 

 

Today is full of surprises and I have no idea of all the things that have happened to me so far, even for this little girl. “May I ask who is Bae Joohyun? I live here and I live alone.”

 

 

 

About to cry, she shows me her phone. I can see how desperate she is, judging from those big bags at her feet. “Irene-unnie? She texted me the address and it says here.”

 

 

I take a deep breath to recompose myself sand pats the girl’s head, “It’s okay. I know her. She lives next door. She typed the door number wrong.”

 

 

 

The girl beams hearing my words, “Thank you unnie.”It reminds me of Irene.

 

 

“You’re welcome.” I smile and close the door after watching her merrily hopping away to Irene's door.

 

 

 

Following my instincts, I flounder back to my study room and everything is still the same. The screens are still blank. She is still missing. Actually I don’t know if she would really come back. I don’t want to face the reality and call the customer service for help. I am such a superfluously complicated person.

 

 

But, the very image of that little girl wanders back from the back of my head. She looks so young but too old to be Irene’s daughter. But she doesn’t look like her and she called her “unnie”. Irene hasn’t said a word about her past relationships and hell if I know if she is someone’s stepmother or if she is already married. Well, she could be. Everything is possible for me now.

 

 

Oh, I am thinking too much. Oh, I always think so much. Maybe I just can’t take it today.

 

 

I should go back to my “normal” life, when I was fine on my own. I was. When have I become so dependent? When have I become more and more like a child?

 

 

I am doing everything by myself now. My fingers are finally moving and I am trying to do things on my own. Music plays and I am somehow relieved. I always have to rely on something - music, pens, books, words, quotes, poems, her. Just like a child yearning for a sense of belonging, a sense of safety from something else.

 

 

 

“I’ve never felt lonelier, my skies are grey, 

And now I am stuck here just missing her, and yesterday.

People try and understand what I’m feeling, 

While I’m trying to figure out a good reason.”

 

 

 

Why am I so dependent? And what am I missing anyway? Everything has become so unfamiliar to me. I guess I won’t even recognize myself when I look into my reflection from the mirror. What would people see if they look at me? I want to know. What did she see, or, hear in me?

 

 

 

“I’ve never felt so helpless.

The things you used to do, keep on running thought my mind,

Over and over.

I can’t stop, no, I won’t stop thinking … 

 

 

‘Cause you made me feel like I’ve never felt, 

There’s nobody else.

How am I supposed to let you go?

I’ve put my heart on the shelf, for you.”

 

 

 

I have nearly forgotten how to think sensibly, I have nearly abandoned how. I think I have been too detached for too long. What am I waiting for indeed?  It’s just her or something else? What have I felt?

 

 

She hasn’t really existed. I am waiting for nothing. I should have known it better. I should have known.

 

 

Waiting functions only in a single direction - expressed by the one who stays, never by the one who leaves: an always present I and an always absent you. 

 

 

Waiting for you reminds me that my love needs a reply. 

 

 

 

“Why am I alone tonight?

Why did you hang me out to dry?

Oh please, you got me on my knees. 

Oh why, did you have to go and leave me?”

 

 

 

It’s just me. It’s always me, I’m always waiting, waiting for something to happen. I’m in love with myself, by myself.  It’s how it works.

 

 

It’s love that I love, not her. It’s just me and myself and my own thoughts and my voice all along.

 

 

I think I have lost something. Maybe it’s her, my sanity, my mind or my senses or all of the above.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Someone interrupts as they are knocking on my door again. I open my eyes and it’s dim, signaling that it’s already night. And I have no idea how I ended up lying on my bed with a new set of clothes. I know I am slowly losing my mind now. My hair is still slightly wet so I must have taken a slower. I haven’t drunk any but it comes to me like a hangover.

 

 

I fix my clothes and greet my unexpected guest. “Hello?”

 

 

“Wendy.” With a hushed voice, she scans me from head to toe as if she thought I might have lost a limb or something. And I don’t know how to react, I think I have lost my social skills too.

 

 

 

She erects at my doorstep like a lighthouse, “I found your car unlocked. I rang your doorbell a few times after Yeri said she’ve mistaken your house as mine. But no one answered. I have just fetched her home, so I knocked again.”

 

 

“I’m sorry.” Only God knows how many times I have apologized today. I head to the counter and take my keys. “I fell asleep.”

 

 

 

“Are you feeling alright? Are you sick?” She shadows me closely as I walk out to lock my car properly. She is so motherly.

 

 

I check the compartment and nothing is missing. I press that ing button and makes up my mind, “Can we talk inside?”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

“You have experienced similar things, no?” I divert my gaze at every piece furniture I have instead of the only guest in my house. My couch suddenly feels so uncomfortable for me.

 

 

Irene, who has been looking at me so attentively like a nurse to her patient, lets out a long breath that she had been holding as she comes back with a glass of warm milk. “I know you would have figured it out.”

 

 

 

“Do you think I am stupid?” My eyes are growing dry for staring at the tiles too long.

 

 

“Why would I?” She squats down and wraps my hands around the glass. “Who am I to judge you, Wendy?”

 

 

 

“Thank you for your Scotch by the way.” I try to run and hide.

 

 

“Wendy, look at me.” But she just won't let me. 

 

 

I am still not looking at her and she is still squatting down. “Did you…... felt the same way? How did you get over it?”

 

 

“Who said I am over it?” She weakly giggles as if I just told her a lame joke. “I was like a crazy woman and now I am still a crazy woman.”

 

 

 

I clutch onto the thin fabric of my shirt, wrinkling it, “Can you…... help me ?” I feel like I am stripped bare.

 

 

“I’m here to help you.” So very gently, she wraps her hand around mine as well. “Wendy, let me help you.” 

 

 

 

And the moment I look at her, tears fall. I try to blink them away but there are only more. Ruthlessly tapping onto my tiles, and mercilessly laughing at my naiveté. 

 

 

“I am practically feeling all these things over nothing. I am crying over nothing.” Ungracefully, I bring my palms to my eyes. I guess she has to deal with the ugliest part of me tonight. “How can you stop this? Is there even a way?”

 

 

“It’s okay to feel all these. Sometimes we’ll get confused by what is real and what's not.” She places me a box of tissue on my lap. “You have to let them out. You’re a strong and smart girl. You can put it through.”

 

 

 

I find myself staring so deep into her eyes, “It’s how you see me?”

 

 

She smiles, “Of course. You’re a lovable person, Wendy. Have a little faith in yourself. It doesn’t hurt.”

 

 

 

Her smile is so ravishing that pleases your eyes and also your heart. It’s just pleasant to see. I had tried to picture how Ariel would smile. And I have never imagined such a perfect smile. I think their images overlap a little in my messy brain. I should stay out of alcohol from now on.

 

 

And Irene's smile stops my tears. It's her.

 

 

 

“Thank you.” I fidget on my seat and my voice grows a bit hoarse.

 

 

“It’s okay.” She stands up a little and pulls me into an embrace. “Everything will be alright.”

 

 

I close my eyes and rest my head on her shoulder, “I just want to forget everything.”

 

 

“Then forget.” Her voice is so soft as if it is a touch of silk. 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

“You should sleep.” Her voice duplicates louder and louder as my house is so hollow. Never so hollow.

 

 

I finally find something called peace in her arms and I let her enter my sacred bedroom. And she is just laying side by side with me. “I can’t.”

 

 

 

She hums and pulls my body closer to hers, “You need it. You need a rest.”

 

 

“It’s too much.” I breath in a lungful of air. And I slowly breath it out. I forget how to breathe all of the sudden.“There’s too much going on, in me.” 

 

 

 

“Tell me what’s in your mind, Wendy.” I can see her eyes even when mine are closed. “I want to know.”

 

 

I dither and place my arm on hers, hoping to gain some warmth from her. “Have you ever loved somebody?” 

 

 

 

“Of course, I do.”

 

 

“Have you ever felt you brain explode when they left you, or, when you were madly in love?”

 

 

“It is a vivid description.”

 

 

“Something is trapped within me, and I can’t let it out.” Images keep coming to me. They are consuming me.

 

 

 

“You are crying again.” Her hand finds its way to my cheek. “And aren’t your tears carrying them away?”

 

 

“It’s not enough.”

 

 

 

Isn’t there a poem called “Mad Girl's Love Song”? Isn’t it such a nice poem for me right now? Ain’t I mad already? I can't fight them back. I can't control them. I am too weak.

 

 

 

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

I lift my lids and all is born again.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

 

 

 

“You will be alright, I promise you. You are still alive.”

 

 

“I can’t sleep anymore. I’m so scared that I would lose everything when I open my eyes again.”

 

 

 

“Then I would be the first thing you see when you open your eyes again.” I think she means it, with her hand caressing my face like she's gonna to carve her promise on my skin. I feel her. And she is more than real.

 

 

 

“The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,

And arbitrary blackness gallops in:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.”

 

 

 

“Everyone left when they said they would stay.” I found myself sobbing like a child. 

 

 

Nothing. It’s always nothing. Promises means nothing but they are always broken. People promise they wouldn’t but they always leave in the end. They always lie to me and I am always fooled. No one has ever loved me. No one. Everything. Everything is untrue.

 

 

 

“I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

 

 

 

“Then I would be the one who stay.” She mumbles and she kisses me. 

 

 

When she presses her lips on mine, she sings me to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(p.s. The poem is from Sylvia Plath and the song is "Why" from Trevor Wesley)

 

---

 

So I have dropped another chapter today. 

I guess you guys would like more development for wenrene so here it is.

 

(you can also find me on twitter @AD_saudades)

 

Hope you guys enjoy this so far :) 

xo