Ი︵𐑼 ✶ bellziepoo!

Your head turned as you glared at Taesan, your jaw clenching as you exhaled sharply, clearly unhappy with his words. "Of course I know that," you said through gritted teeth, turning back around. "I'd prefer not to be reminded of that, thanks."

It was no surprise to him that you were in love with Myung Jaehyun, especially given how much Jaehyun valued you and put you above everyone else — despite it not seeming as such. He often wondered if you knew just how much Jaehyun cared about you, and if perhaps that was the reason why you liked him so much. Or perhaps it was more of an attachment to you, the fear of losing your best friend growing more and more with each passing day. He understood you, having to watch the boy you liked fall in love over and over again, only really coming back to you whenever his heart was broken, only ever needing you so you could put his heart together once more.

He understood it, the pain of watching someone you love only grow farther apart from you.

Han Taesan witnessed it all. The realization that you were in love with Jaehyun, your heart getting ripped out of your chest so painfully, so violently, that even Taesan couldn't bear to stand by and watch at times. He watched you accept that it would never be, though it pained you to admit that your best friend had chosen so many people over you. And the worst part of it all was that Han Taesan could never tell you the truth, because what kind of friend would he be if he’d told you that Myung Jaehyun had been in love with you for most of his life?

Who was he to tell you?

Who was he to tell you that the only reason he’d asked you to “confess” for him that day was because he wanted to see your reaction, because he wanted you to be jealous? Who was he to tell you that the only reason he’d ever cried over his failed relationships was because he oh, so terribly yearned for you to be the one beside him? Who was he to tell you that the day he’d told you he loved you, that day under the rain as the sky fell from above, he’d meant it? He didn’t mean to get attached, he didn’t mean to find “the one” in someone who wasn’t you because in his heart, it would always be you — no matter how many people came and went from his life. Since the beginning, Myung Jaehyun’s heart had only ever belonged to you, and to have to give it to someone else almost killed him.

“I can’t do it,” Jaehyun had cried the day before his wedding, his eyes red and filled with tears, his hand clutching his shirt in the area above his chest as he sat on the bathroom floor of the hotel he was staying at. Taesan was crouched beside him, watching his friend struggle to breathe, hyperventilating as the realization of what he’d done had finally set in. “I ca— I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Taesan spoke to him, trying to calm him down. “You love her, Jaehyun. Tomorrow will be the best day of your life, I promise. You can do it.”

Myung Jaehyun refused to believe him, shaking his head violently, leaning his head against the bathroom wall, sobbing loudly. “No,” he spoke through shaky breaths. “No, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Taesan’s voice was quiet, comforting. “Why can’t you? What’s stopping you?”

“She’s not—“ Jaehyun opened his eyes as he looked past Taesan, unable to look his friend in the eye. “She’s not her.”

It wasn’t necessarily the fact that he’d finally admitted it after all these years that surprised him. Han Taesan knew that already, that there was only room in his heart for one person and that the space had been filled long before they’d even met. What surprised Taesan was the fact that Jaehyun was completely sober that night — the night of his bachelor’s party, the night before his wedding day. He was sober as he cried in the bathroom, thinking about someone other than his soon-to-be bride. He was sober as he wished it was you who would meet him on the altar tomorrow, you who he’d spend the rest of his life with. You.

Myung Jaehyun had only ever pictured you.

And perhaps that was the most fucked up part of it all, that he’d truly believed he’d gotten over you, that he’d believed getting married to someone else would heal the heart you’d broken unknowingly. Why couldn’t it have been you? Why couldn’t he have proposed to you, married you, promised you forever? What had been stopping him from doing that much?

“Why are you doing this then?” Taesan asked him later that night after he’d gotten Jaehyun to calm down. He stood on the balcony of his friend’s hotel room, looking down at the street, at the cars that passed by, at the people that seemed like ants beneath them. “If you love her so much, why haven’t you told her?”

Jaehyun, lying in bed, blinked as he stared at the ceiling, wondering the same thing. It was all he ever thought about, really — why he hadn’t told you after all this time. “I don’t know,” he said, sighing. “I just don’t think that’s what she wants to hear from me.”

That’s all she wants to hear from you.

Taesan hummed, afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid he’d spill the secret you swore to take to your grave, choosing to remain silent rather than ruin your life. But the thing was, it was killing him, knowing you both felt the same about each other, knowing you were so close to giving each other everything — simply knowing. But it killed him more to know that what you felt for Myung Jaehyun, the best friend you’d had for forever, would always be more than whatever you were feeling for Han Taesan now, two years after the wedding, after his departure from your life.

It was almost midnight. You can’t recall why you were drinking to begin with — or how you’d even ended up in a bar, for that matter. But there you were, drowning in feelings you thought you’d gotten rid of, feelings you thought had gone with Jaehyun the day he left you. It wasn’t until you’d had your first shot of tequila that you realized those feelings were still very much present, just suppressed — and it wasn't until you’d had your fourth shot that those feelings you’d held back for so long finally saw the light of day.

“I just don’t get it,” you slurred to the bartender, who was listening quite intently as he cleaned glasses from behind the counter (you learned his name was Riwoo after having talked to him for the past hour and a half).“He told me he–” You hiccuped, sighing frustratedly, unable to complete your sentence. “Listen,” you started again. The bartender glanced at you, waiting for you to continue. “Hypothetically speaking, when you’re dancing in the rain with someone and they tell you they love you forever, what exactly does that mean?”

“That they love you forever,” Riwoo replied monotonously.

“Exactly!” you yelled, slamming your hand down on the counter, your shot glass shaking. “So if they love you forever, why would they marry someone else?” The bartender didn’t reply and instead gave you a look, noticing the way your face dropped as your own words sunk in. “Why didn’t he marry me?” you asked yourself quietly, a question you’d asked yourself so many times before.

You’d imagined your life with Myung Jaehyun before. You’d probably live a quiet life, move to the countryside on a farm, plant a garden, grow a family. You imagined yourself growing old with him, only loving him more as the minutes passed you by, as your hair turned white, as your skin began to sag. Your life with Jaehyun would’ve been like a fairytale, like the ones people hear in stories — perfect.

But fairytales are for children, and now you’re twenty-five.

And Myung Jaehyun would never be coming back for you or the life you’d pictured with him.

Your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes, the realization hitting you for the millionth time, the realization that your best friend would never be yours, that he belonged to someone else. It hurts more now than it ever has, accepting it, living with it. Perhaps it was because you were drunk, the six shots you’d taken being the reason why you felt this way, why you couldn’t bring yourself to let go. Or perhaps this feeling would simply never go away. It would always be attached to you, part of you, haunting you the way Jaehyun always did. It would linger in the back of your mind, the crevices of your heart until you forgot for a second, only to suffocate your lungs the very next.

You would never be able to get rid of Myung Jaehyun, even if you tried.

“Get up, Y/N.”

You don’t move — you can’t. You know his voice, that tired tone he always spoke with, his voice always soft. You know his scent, that woody, rainy smell he carried with him — it’s the reason you always hug him for moments longer than you should, because he always smells so nice, so comforting. And you know he’s mad at you. You can feel it radiating off his body so no, you don’t get up. You don’t even turn to look at him as you cry on that stool at the bar, afraid that you’d disappoint him more than you already had.

But Han Taesan could never blame you for anything because in his eyes, you were perfect.

You hear him sigh and the stool beside you scrape the floor as Taesan pulls it back and sits beside you, propping his arm up as he leans his cheek against his palm. You can feel his eyes on you, staring, waiting for you to look at him, to acknowledge him, to say something. And you do, because you can’t stand the thought of Taesan ever being mad at you. The thought alone is enough to kill you.

His eyes are always soft when he looks at you — never bearing any harshness or anger, always gentle and kind. And today was no different. His brown eyes were warm as they finally met your own red, teary eyes. Your eyeliner was smudged from how harshly you’d been wiping your tears, your lip trembled slightly, and you figured you looked terrible. But his eyes never wavered as he kept staring at you with that look on his face. It almost made you even more upset.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” you asked him, frustrated by how calm and collected he was. “Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“Why would I yell at you?” Taesan responded. “You’re an adult. You can reprimand yourself.”

His words only seemed to fuel more tears as you finally looked away, covering your face with your smudged hands. “Why are you here?” you cried into your hands. Taesan sighed again, raising his hand slightly as he asked the bartender quietly for two glasses of water. “Why did you come?”

“Because you asked me to,” Taesan chuckled, moving his stool closer to you. “Like an hour ago. I assume you were much more sober then.”

You don’t get it, really. The only reason you even knew Taesan was because he was Jaehyun’s friend. The only reason you started hanging out with him was because he seemed to fill the hole in your heart that your so-called best friend created. But Jaehyun was out of the picture now. He was a million miles away, living the life he built for himself and his wife, seemingly happy. Han Taesan had no reason to stick around anymore. He had no reason to answer your random calls late at night, no reason to come running to you as you sobbed drunkenly into your phone after a long shift at work. There was nothing tying him to you anymore, yet here he was, in all his glory, paying your tab, helping you onto your feet, letting you hold onto his arm as he walked you out of the bar and to his car.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” he asked you as he opened the passenger door for you, watching you practically throw yourself onto the seat, letting out a quiet laugh at the sight. “What were you doing at a bar this late?” He waits for you to adjust your posture before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s seat, getting in before starting the car.

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you close your eyes and let your head fall back onto the headrest, your mind still fuzzy, your head aching. “I was just… there.”

“Hm,” Taesan nodded as he put the car in drive. “Very helpful.” You scoffed and threw your arm at him, hitting his chest. “Hey!” he laughed, “I’m driving!”

“You’re making fun of me!” you raised your voice, crying again.

“What made you think that?”

“You’re laughing at me!”

Taesan let out a jokingly exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes as he shook his head. “You’re so annoying when you’re drunk, did you know that?” he asked, glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road. “You act like a child and then get upset when I don’t treat you like you’re in your right mind.”

“You’re so mean to me,” you said, looking away from him and out the window, sniffling as you wiped your face. “It’s like you hate me or something.”

“I don’t.” The car slowed down as they reached a red light. Taesan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, trying to find the right words to say to you. “I couldn’t if I tried, Y/N.”

The sound of the A.C. filling the car and the revving of cars filled your ears as you stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by with droopy eyes when the light finally turned green. “Couldn’t if you tried,” you repeated quietly. “Like I’m supposed to know what that means.”

“I care about you.”

“I know you do.”

You hated drinking. You hated being unable to form a coherent, original thought, being unable to control such simple emotions. You hated it. You couldn’t understand why you’d gone to that stupid bar in the first place. But sitting beside Han Taesan wasn’t so bad. Listening to his soft voice that seemed to bring more tears to your eyes than the memory of Jaehyun didn’t seem too bad. Knowing he cared about you and you cared about him almost as much wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Maybe loving Han Taesan wouldn’t be as terrible as loving Myung Jaehyun ever was.

Your eyes widened at the realization of your own thoughts, glancing at him momentarily just to make sure that had been an inner thought and not something you’d voiced aloud. It was stupid — why would you ever think that in the first place? What was wrong with you? Perhaps the alcohol was taking over your system, your drunk thoughts wanting to have a real meaning so badly. But you weren’t in love with Taesan, no. You didn’t wonder what he was doing whenever you hadn’t seen him for a couple of days, nor did you write example text messages you never sent in your notes app. You didn’t notice how he’d stopped styling his hair back because you’d told him you liked it better when it was down, nor did you realize how often he smiled around you now because you mentioned how pretty his smile was. You didn’t space out whenever he was talking to you and stare into his eyes for way too long, thinking about how beautiful they were, just looking at you.

You didn’t do any of that.

Right?

“Do you want me to walk you in?”

You turned your head back towards him, then looked around, realizing that you were parked right outside your apartment building. You probably had been for a while now, considering Taesan had turned the car off and was looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. “Oh,” you spoke, straightening your posture. “It’s okay. I’ll manage.”

“You sure?” he asked, raising a brow.

You scoffed, “D’you want to or what?” Taesan stared at you, his expression blank for a moment, the joking smile you had on your face faltering for just a second. “Do you really?” you asked again, seriously.

“I mean, I’d probably sleep better tonight if I knew you got inside safely.”

What that fuck is that supposed to mean?

Han Taesan wastes no time in walking around to the passenger door and opening it for you, helping you, catching you as you almost fall face-first onto the hard concrete. You hear him laugh but you’re far too immersed in your own thoughts to say anything. Should you tell him why you were at the bar? Should you tell him that you couldn’t help it, that your feelings for Jaehyun were inevitable, almost like death? He deserves to know, right? He deserves the truth, right?

“Watch your step.” You seem to be teleporting because you can’t remember how you ended up on the stairs, almost tripping over the steps, Taesan catching your arm before you face-plant into the corner. God, this is embarrassing. What am I doing? “You drank more than you usually do,” Taesan commented, climbing the stairs behind you, watching your every move, ready to catch you again.

“What makes you say that?” you asked, your head pounding as you reached out to hold onto the railing. It was moments like these that made you regret moving into the twelfth floor of a decaying apartment building with no elevator.

“You don’t really cry when you drink, Y/N,” he said. “So I can’t help but think that you went there with the intention to rip your heart out.”

He’s right. You did. But you won’t tell him that.

“That’d be painful.”

“Well, you’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

Your legs hurt, your bones ache, and your head is about to fall off your neck. You stop walking and sit down on one of the steps between the fifth and sixth floors, leaning your head against the wall, trying to catch your breath. “Why would you say that?” you asked Taesan, looking at him as he stood on the step below yours. “Why would you remind me?”

“Are we gonna act like that wasn’t the reason you went to that bar?”

“What's your problem, Taesan?” You lift your head, narrowing your eyes at him, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. “What do you think is going on here? Why are you bringing this up? What do you want me to say?”

He stares at you, an almost-hurt look on his face. “What are you even talking about?”

“I’m talking about you! What’s wrong with you?”

He scoffs, “Me? Are you really in any place to be asking me that when you’re the one who’s still in love with some guy who doesn’t even bother to call you anymore? Some guy who’s married and lives on the other side of the globe?”

Han Taesan was never mean to you, or at least you never expected him to be. You figured he understood what you were going through, how it felt to have your heart crushed by someone you cared about so deeply. “He’s not some guy,” you said, staring at him like he’d just stabbed you. “He’s my best friend.”

Taesan laughed in disbelief, “Why do you still call him that?”

“Because he is.”

“I’m more of a friend than he ever was!” he yelled. Taesan had never been more frustrated in his life. He felt like he had to prove something to you, like if he didn’t open your eyes, everything he’d ever done for you would’ve never been worth it. “You treat me like shit all the time, Y/N! You called me in the middle of the night crying, begging me to help you and then you start yelling at me like I have no place to ask why the fuck you’re still in love with Jaehyun.”

“Why do you even care?!” you raised your voice. “Why do you care so much if I still love him or not?!”

“Because it’s killing me that you can’t see I’ve been in love with you this whole fucking time! You only want me around to play with my feelings and then you throw me to the side like I was never worth your time!” He looks away from you, running a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. “And it’s not like I ever expected you to feel the same way,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I just figured maybe you’d at least keep me as close to your heart as you keep that asshole.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Han Taesan is in love with you, the worst person in the world? Why? Why would he be when he knew how terrible you were? Why would he be in love with you when there were so many better options always crossing his path, when he knew that you would probably never move on from Myung Jaehyun for the rest of your life? Truly, what is wrong with him?

Your head falls to your hands, the pounding almost becoming unbearable as tears fill your eyes, partly because of the pain but mostly because deep down, you knew. You knew he was in love with you — you just couldn’t accept it. Not when you knew that eventually, he’d realize you were the last person he wanted. “I do care about you, Taesan,” you spoke, your voice almost in a whisper. “I do.”

“You have a terrible way of showing it, Y/N.”

“I know, I just–” You sighed, rubbing the side of your face, looking at him. “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Taesan doesn’t say anything, mostly because he can’t look at you when you’re crying. But he feels the lump in his throat growing bigger and his heart clench from inside his chest as he grabs your arm and lifts you up. “Go home,” he says quietly, pushing you gently as you start climbing the steps again, still crying, your vision blurry. And for the next six flights of stairs, a heavy silence falls upon you, neither of you able to say anything. It isn’t until you finally reach the twelfth floor that you manage to push something out of your throat.

“Don’t hate me,” you said, your back turned to him as you pulled out your house keys, struggling to unlock your front door. You sniffle, the lock clicking as you finally get it open, twisting the doorknob. You hear him laugh quietly behind you, and though it hadn’t been long since the last time you heard him laugh, you already missed it.

He hadn’t even left yet, and you already missed him.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

NOTE: how evil would i be if i just ended it here 😭 HAHAHAHA anyways it’ll probably take me a WHILE to write the next part cuz midterms and other personal stuff i have going on rn, but i hope you guys enjoyed “the worst person in the world”!!!! thank you for reading 🫶🏼

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