hi

I hate nights like this.

The sky appears cloudless and it’s softening into a dim shade of indigo, much like an evening after an intense thunderstorm has passed through. There is a stillness in the air and the lingering scent of rush hour traffic makes my stomach churn.  

The sky appears cloudless and it’s softening into a dim shade of indigo, much like an evening after an intense thunderstorm has passed through. There is a stillness in the air and the lingering scent of rush hour traffic makes my stomach churn.  

The sky was just as clear when I saw her for the last time. That stupid girl, whom I shared an apartment and bed with for almost two years. A home that we both deserted after I discovered the truth.       

The sky was just as clear when I saw her for the last time. That stupid girl, whom I shared an apartment and bed with for almost two years. A home that we both deserted after I discovered the truth.       

“Hello? Hyunjin, did you hear a single word I just said?” My best friend’s voice tears me from my brooding recollections. 

“I’m sorry Felix, can you repeat that again?”

Much of our conversations are like this these days. I know I should try harder to push the dejected thoughts from my mind and be more present in reality, especially around the person who happily took me in when my relationship came to an abrupt end. But when the evening is veiled in this color, I can’t stop tormenting myself with all the details of the night I left her.

Felix sighs and mirrors my position against the railing of his balcony. He knows where my mind is and by the look in his eyes, I realize he’s decided to spare me the lecture. Felix has the patience of a Saint and I often feel unworthy of his devoted friendship. I have put him through a lot these past few months, and the least I can do is pay attention to what he’s asking me.

“Tonight is Chan and Changbin’s party and I promised them I’d be there a bit early. I was hoping you would come with me to the apartment to set up…” the blonde trails off.

“…And also, they didn’t hear from Kira. Not like we wanted her to come, anyways. What I mean is— she won’t be there tonight.” 

I can only bear to smile at him meekly. I hate the sound of her name. 

Choi Kira, they all used to fawn after her in the dorms. We had been friendly throughout our time in university, but I never gave her a second thought until the end of our junior year. My younger self would find me pathetic for sulking over someone who I once considered so vapid and boring.

“Of course I will help you. That's my duty as your best friend, isn’t it?” I flash a boxy grin towards my friend, but It doesn't seem he buys my forced smile. He understands how difficult it has become to be in social situations nowadays. People love to pry, they want to gossip about if the pretty picture of my life they painted in their minds resembles the one I am actually living. They will ask about their perfect Kira, and I will attempt to contort the truth into something less humiliating. 

I am not sure how I can dilute discovering my girlfriend was cheating on me with our English professor into a more digestible story, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. They will believe whatever bullshit I sell them.

I mull over a list of excuses while we lock up and walk to Chan and Changbin’s shared apartment. Ever since we were freshmen in college, those two made it their mission to ring in the New Year in the most obnoxious way possible: a blowout out celebration with enough booze to poison every citizen in Seoul. Growing up together has cemented our friendship into a brotherhood, which is the only thing motivating me to leave the solace of my studio. And of course, the promise of not having to go clubbing with them for three weeks if I showed my face. 

For them, my brothers, who have carried my pitiful existence without any trace of resentment through these last months of winter, I will attempt to resemble my old self. I've never found it difficult before to put on a show of friendliness and amusement, but recently, the mask wears heavy on my features. To be amongst a crowd, amongst my best friends, and still feel like I’m stuck in solitude— barely visible through the fog that is my own fucked up illusion of loneliness. They just can’t see it. They have never been where I am, and I hope that never changes. But that doesn’t stop my friends from reaching for me, doing the best they can to fish me out of it— even with blind hands. And for their endless attempts to liberate me, I am forever grateful. 

Felix, Chan and I sling back a shot of whiskey with the promise of a fresh start in the new year. My lips curve up at them and their optimism. My arms hang over their shoulders, wishing the physical contact could transfer some of that imagined hopefulness into my own body. 

If only I could will it into existence. If only that could keep the fog from thickening.

— ✧.*

Thank god the mindless babble has paused for a moment as everyone turns their attention to the direction of loud clatter. I relish in the sliver of peace the commotion brings, finally the bogus smile I’ve been forcing can falter. I feel a bit of gratitude towards the woman who has tripped over the carpet and taken a few plates down with her; she’s abetted my escape from another stale conversation with acquaintances I don’t care about.

“Wow, I didn’t expect to see her tonight...” Jeongin whispers next to me while we watch the woman collect herself from the scene she caused. I think I recognize her from Kim Hyemin’s Statistics course, but we never spoke. I only ever took notice of her taste in Literature because she always had her face buried in a book. 

“I heard she got dumped by Seungmin’s old roommate at the beginning of the fall semester. No one really knows the details but apparently, it ended really ugly.” My younger friend continued, his concentration moving from the disheveled woman to the cocktail umbrella in his drink.

“How ugly?” I ask without taking my focus away from her.

“Like, took time off of school because she went ‘away...’ isn’t gonna graduate on time, that kind of ugly.” 

My heart twitches at his words, her shallow gaze is very familiar to me. The glassiness of her darkened orbs hints that her mind often spends time in a faraway place, maybe because reality is too harsh to engage in. Felix always points out his ability to tell my thoughts are reeling just by the look on my face. I study her appearance and understand what my friend must see in me. 

“S’okay bout the dishes, babes— just come ‘ere and meet my brothers!” Changbin lunges his arm around my shoulder with a little too much vigor. I can smell the whiskey and coke on his breath and I can’t help but roll my eyes at his drunken enthusiasm. His glazed stare is fixated on the bleach blonde attached to the stumbling woman’s arm— must be this week’s fuck buddy, telling by the way she returns his fervent gawk. As the two girls approach us, I can’t find the will to shift my attention away from the person the blonde is dragging behind her. Her tousled fringe accentuates the hollowness behind her eyes and it makes my lungs constrict. It feels as if I’m staring into a mirror, I see so much of my own reflection in her exhausted demeanor. That sullen expression is like an open book, one I have come to memorize not by choice but infliction.

The light graze of Jeongin’s fingers on my wrist pulls me from my own reeling. “Earth to Hyunjin— this is Ryu and Y/N, old classmates from university. We were all in the same dormitory, y’know with Seungmin and Jeno…” the younger boy’s words trail off as Y/N pierces him with a quick glare, her petite frame stiffening at the sound of her ex lover’s name. 

Changbin cuts the thick atmosphere with a sway and stumble while I attempt to hold his larger body upright. “S’glad you both could make it! It’s almost midnight and I made Chan save us the best seats to watch the fireworks,” he snickers. Jeongin and Ryu escort our tipsy host to the terrace with myself and Y/N lingering behind them. 

“Do you drink?” I ask apprehensively. She pauses her stride and examines me before exhaling a deep sigh. 

“Tonight I do,”

Glinting fluorescent lights of blue and pink guide us to the abandoned kitchen of the apartment. I make us a stiff drink and watch as she gulps it down with earnestness. “You look like you’re having as much fun as I am being here,” I tease.

A dry chuckle escapes through her full lips. “Am I that easy to read?” 

More than you realize. I can’t stop the smile from forming; our masks won’t work in here, this brief bubble of solidarity, of knowing without saying. A pleasant silence hangs in the air for a moment— until our attention is drawn to the boisterous chatter that begins to approach us. We both suck in a sharp breath.

“Back to reality?” She smiles up at me for the first time tonight. I drink in her features and usher us into the real world again. 

— ✧.*

“10…. 9…. 8…. 7….” 

The entire terrace harmonizes like a choir as we countdown the last seconds of the year in unison. Felix and Chan grip the railing of the building with anticipation in front of me, while Changbin tightens his hold on the small waist pressed against his body. I grimace, shifting myself closer to Jeongin and Y/N to avoid witnessing the sloppy kiss that will take place in moments’ time. The packed space erupts in jubilation then, with ecstatic cheers and applause dulled momentarily by colorful explosions in the sky before us. 

I’m not sure what possesses me in that moment, but when I turn to her, my body reacts against my will. Maybe it was the way the vibrant colors of fireworks glistened against the tears streaming down her face; or how her widened eyes bore into mine and didn’t dare look away once the connection was made. My hand intrinsically grasps her smaller digits, and when she doesn’t cringe or pull away, I lead us from the terrace and out the front doors without looking back.

We’re half way down the building steps when her hand tugs at mine sheepishly. “Hy-Hyunjin, please slow down,” Y/N’s feeble voice hardly echoes in the concrete stairway. The entire time we’ve been moving, I have been suspended in a daze; I cannot make sense of the gnawing in my chest cavity as her tear stained cheeks flashes through my mind. She stands at my eye level from the step above me, slender fingers still laced in my own, a tremble just barely detectable. I watch her expression turn tearful and my limbs move on their own again— cupping her face with my free hand, I beg “please, no more tears. Not right now.” I don’t hesitate to wipe the wetness from her eye, and she leans into my touch, gently nodding her head in silent agreement. 

Our pursuit continues until we reach a familiar establishment a couple blocks away from the apartment: a shabby, 24-hour diner that has been a habitual stop after late night escapades with the guys. A flushed shade of pink has bloomed under Y/N’s skin and I’m unsure if it’s a result of the winter air’s caress, or embarrassment from the smirk I can’t contain while watching her shove bites of pancakes into her mouth. 

She takes a noticeable gulp and clears her throat. “What are we… doing here?” She questions from across the booth against the window. 

I stare blankly at her. I try my best to keep a neutral tone so she can’t pick up on my own befuddled thoughts around the same question. “It just seemed like you needed to get out of there. And for some reason, I wanted to go with you.” 

There was truth to that at least. How insane is it for strangers to share one knowing look and allow that to embolden them to run away, hand in hand? Y/N squints out the frosted window, considering my words. Her eyes flash back to mine and hold my gaze for a long moment before sighing out a ‘thank you’ between parted lips. 

“What do you have against New Year’s Eve?” I probe before taking a sip of coffee. 

She must find my question amusing because the corners of her mouth creep upwards into a crooked smile. With some hesitation, she answers “I don’t know— I guess, this holiday makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future. I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either.” Her eyes flutter closed in reflection. “I have had some… tough times, to say the least, this year. I thought by now I would feel different. Feel better.” She scoffs at her own words.

I turn her admission over in my mind before responding. What she has shared resonates deep within me. Leaning my head against the chilled glass, I add “It’s quite funny, the fashion in which we celebrate the new year. The signifying of a ‘new’ chapter— a clean slate. As if the change of the date could really alter our lives when the clock hits midnight. It’s just another day, you will feel the same as you did the night before. For some of us, that’s not much of a reason to celebrate.”

I swallow thickly at how cynical I sound aloud, like a scorned victim who wants everyone to drown along with him. My transparency makes me feel pitiful, yet Y/N does not seem taken aback by the crudeness of my words. There is only silence exchanged between us, but her empathetic expression conveys all I need to know. I exhale my relief.

But I am flustered for a different reason all together now— she pulled that unfiltered confession straight out of me with just a stare; an inkling of her smile and the fluttering of thick, dark lashes was all she needed to disarm me. 

“But doesn’t a little piece of you wish to feel differently?” The inward battle she endures is painted all over her features— exhausted by the affliction of the universe, but still so unyielding for her heart to become callous. She’s courageous, a lot tougher than I have ever been; I stomped out that flicker of faith as harshly as I could in the beginning of my grief. What was the point of looking for goodness in the world when I couldn’t have it, when it couldn’t reach me? When everything I tasted didn’t take the bitterness away.

“I want the idea of a new day to fill me with optimism— but my logic won’t quite allow that, like my mind is fighting against my heart,” Hiding the blush behind her hands, she can’t hold back how comical she finds her own embarrassment. “God, is that childish? Why does it feel stupid to still want to hope?” 

It pangs again, my heart remembers all too well the feelings she is conjuring in me. I try to defuse this internal intrusion by laughing too, the toothy grin reaching my eyes. “In this world, It’s admirable and maybe even a lil’ foolish— because the mind and heart can hardly ever cooperate.” Y/N raises her glass to my eye level and we cheers to that: to our feeble brains and the forlorn heart, fickle fuckers they are.

The mood shifts unexpectedly afterwards, her light expression softening into something timid— something vulnerable. Nimble fingers fidget with the corner of her napkin as her low tone just barely registers from across the table, “I don’t know how you knew what I needed before I did, but thank you, Hyunjin– this means a lot to me... Do you think we were friends in a past life?”

I can make out a semblance of my own smile reflected in the dark liquid of my coffee mug as I peer down into its blackness. I won’t allow myself to spiral now, I refuse to process how alarming it is for a stranger to move me as deeply as she has, so I deflect, “Maybe, cus I knew you were cool– that's why I brought you to where all the brooding kids like us come to hang out.”

Y/N’s bright laughter rings distinctly amongst the commotion of the restaurant, her eyes creasing into crescent moons while she beams, “We are kindred spirits, you and I.”

And then it’s all too soon that the liquid in our cups turns cold; the night lulls to a hum as it settles around us and we reluctantly prepare to brave the elements outside the solace of the diner. 

My lips are practically frozen when we reach Y/N’s apartment complex. Seoul’s frigid wind stings my face as we push against its force, but I unclasp the top buttons of my coat anyways, fully welcoming the numbness— anything to distract from the shorter frame beside me, the way my fingers itch to seek comfortable warmth in the hand that brushes against my own while we walk. An unintentional gesture that is stirring a foreign kind of frenzy within me, and Y/N seems to sense my discomfort.

“Hyunjin, can I ask you a question?” She doesn’t meet my gaze when she speaks and a piece of me is glad for that. “Do you believe… only time can heal all?”

Her question stifled my thoughts for a minute. The answer doesn’t take too long to come to me, and I hope my candidness doesn’t deepen her hardship. “I think time is a small part of it. It alleviates— as do many other things. Perhaps healing is a combination of time passing, distraction, enduring; just trying your best to fill yourself up with anything at all until you feel full, or whole, again.” 

The fluorescent street light illuminates her pensive look, and I trace faded constellations of freckles adorning the rosy cheeks in front of me. Her rigid stance reduces to something more placid under my stare. How small she must feel standing against my taller stature.  The corner of her lip remains tucked under her teeth until I force myself to connect with her fixed gaze again.

“What do you do then, to fill yourself up?” Y/N smiles up at me hollowly. She is a person made of contradictions, it seems; what a lovely, twinkling sound her voice makes, it does not match the spiritless words that spill from plush lips. 

I run my fingers through my dark hair and move my focus to the black sky above us as I speak, “I compose and listen to music; drink a little too much some days and write poetry. I paint. I sketch— I fuck.” I catch the hitch in her breathing and chuckle at her embarrassment. Her body takes a brave step forward, curious eyes searching for something within my own. 

“And does that work? Are you healing?” 

I wish I could lie and give the answer Y/N wants to hear. The truth of the matter is, I have seen myself take great strides forward toward happier days— and then one random morning, I might not have the will to even crawl out of bed. More than just my heart was broken by my breakup; my ego, my confidence, my ability to trust have all been marred. She is owed some honesty, so I pick out the most important notes to share from my experience.

“Honestly, I don’t think healing is linear. I have some truly good days, and some bad ones. I will admit there is slow progress— but god am I impatient,” I laugh and pray she can’t hear how I ache, “and god, does the loneliness tear me up sometimes.”

I sense my statement causes her no distress because Y/N simply purses her lips and nods like I had just confirmed her hypothesis. We stand in the cold, with the weight of this burden of truth on our shoulders. I’m taken by surprise when a melodic giggle disturbs the bit of silence.

“Being around you made me feel so light for the first time in what seems like forever,” my pulse quickens and she offers me no opportunity to interject. “Thank you, Hyunjin. It’s been awhile since I’ve hung out with someone and didn’t feel… alone, if that makes sense.” She peers up at me through her lashes, gauging my expression.

“On those days you feel lonely, I want to do the same for you as you did for me tonight.” Her eyes darted from mine, bashful at her own unexpected tenderness. When she attempts to escape through the double doors of the building, I catch her wrist and pull her back to me, my shallow breath tickling the back of her hair. 

She has done more than she will ever know, and more than I’m brave enough to admit. 

“Can I say one last thing?” My pitch heightens and I don’t care if she can hear the excitement in my voice, all my senses are buzzing being close to her like this. As she turns to face me, I see I’m not the only one enchanted.

This girl must possess the ability to read my mind because before the idea of kissing her can completely overwhelm me, delicate fingertips graze my jawline and ground me to reality once more. I didn’t have a single clue as to what I wanted to say before she slipped away, but that doesn’t matter in this moment any longer– there is nothing we have to speak into existence as her lips ghost over mine, silently seeking permission to succumb to our inexplicit desire. 

Kissing a stranger shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t make all my reason null and void, or engulf me in a soothing reverie that I embrace when I take her lips in mine more fervently. This feeling shouldn’t transcend gratification and fill me with more, but as she cradles my face with a gentle grasp and my arm wraps around her neck to bring our bodies closer, I’m somehow convinced this is right— that it is as it should always be with Y/N.

Her fingers tangle themselves in my hair and I let myself bloom under the intoxicating warmth of her touch. I smirk against her when her lips part, allowing me entrance to deepen the kiss. She tastes like mocha and desperation, the flavors becoming even sweeter while I push her into the brick pillar of the building, failing to restrain the need to have her pressed against me. My movements are more raw than I intend, but I can tell she is quite pleased with my undoing, based on how her thumbs smooth loving circles into my skin.

A delicious tickle makes me hum, imagining the image of her frame caged between my own and the cool facade— how lost in this moment we must appear. Y/N returns my intensity and claws at my collar, as if our forms could possibly meld together with just a little more fervor. Her body arches, chasing my caress down her side and I can’t suppress the groan that slips into her mouth when I feel her shiver against my body. A blistering kind of heat builds in my stomach, listening to the soft, wet sounds our lips make while we struggle for dominance. Who craves who more, It's impossible to say.

I think this moment will be burned into me, I have never felt pleasure so tangible and potent. I’ll remember with clarity how the huffs of white smoke blurred my vision when we reluctantly disconnected, gasping for air, under the harsh gleam of lampposts. Y/N giggles in between quick inhales and tries to cool her reddened cheeks with the palm of her hand. “Did you want to say you needed to come upstairs?” 

My chuckle comes out breathy and ragged, “yeah, I feel kinda dizzy— I should maybe lie down for a while.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle when she smiles and my chest swells with adoration. I want to savor the way her smaller hand molds into mine as we hurry through the brick archway together. A sensation I long locked away washes over me then; I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but it feels a lot like resolution— a wishful promise this night is just the beginning. 

The idea of tomorrow shines a bit brighter in the back of my mind.