"Jimin?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure we haven't met before?"
He smiles.
"Not in here, no."
Park Jimin's life is a mess. One night he decides to end it all but on the roof, he encounters a girl who so desperately tries to talk him out of his decision. After...
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HYOJIN POV
No one has ever called me that except for my father. Could this woman be who I think she is?
"Y-you... You're my..."
The words can't seem to fall from my mouth, unsure if she deserves to be called that.
"Hyojin-ah, please listen–"
The bell from the door startles everyone, yet the tension has not gone away.
"Darling, this place looks amazing."
A middle-aged man looking slightly older than Ms Mae wearing a long grey winter coat walks in. He looks around and at his wife, completely starstruck by the view and in love with her. The amount of emotions I feel bubbling in me is beginning to overflow, coming into the outside world as tears. I look at her accusingly, her face a million shades of guilt and regret.
I scoff, looking away for a second then back at her. "I guess dad wasn't the one, huh?"
Her husband looks back at forth at me and his wife, confused as to the extreme emotions on display. From my peripheral vision I see Jimin taking slow steps towards me, slowly reaching out.
"Hyojin, I know how you feel–"
"No. You don't." My voice cracks, arms reaching to hug my own sides.
She takes a step forward, but soon stops as soon as she sees my steps retracting in response.
"Hyojin, please–"
I turn sharply to Imo who's looking at me sympathetically. I force a wavering smile at her, feeling it spread across my tear-stained cheeks.
"Thank you for arranging this celebration Imo, but I think I'm getting tired. I'll go home for now." My voice falter slightly. I bow respectfully at her, getting ready to leave.
She simply smiles at this. "Take all the time you need, dear."
I turn to V and Jimin, feeling guilty. "Sorry for ruining the mood. Guess I'll go off now." With that I rush outside, not bothering to wait for their reaction.
I run out and open the door with a loud clang. I only get so far from the cafe do I lose the will to run on. I'm stopped under a street lamp, the only source of light in the area.
I breathe out shakily, thinking about my whole life.
My mother's absence. My father's sufferings and sacrifices. He gave me everything he could, even his life. And what did my mother do? Think for herself and ran.
