When I get ideas but don't have much time to write, they'll end up in this one-shot book. I also write one-shots for anyone who request.
• i do not own any of the pictures used in this book. they are merely found on the internet.
• do not plagiari...
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Genre: Emotional
Inspired by,
'champagne problems' song by Taylor Swift, & Dear John (2010, dir. Lasse Hallström).
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This story is entirely fictional. The events of this story are all fictional and the public figure's personalities mentioned in this story are based on the author's imagination only and have no collerration with their personalities in real life. If there is, it is merely a coincidence.
•••
Dear Mingyu,
I've been tearing out pages from my thick, brownish-papered favorite limited edition A6 journal, the one that my sister gifted specially for me during my sixteenth birthday, to spill this burden I've been carrying heavily inside my chest for almost six years now. The reason why I did that is because I thought you deserved only the best for giving me the best years of my life, hence, I used my best and most precious notebook to write this farewell letter to you.
I hope this letter finds you in a good condition and reaches you well. I know, why would someone deliver a letter to you, a long one at that, when decades have passed since mobile phones became in trend, replacing letters as the main source of communication among youths? Thanks to today's technology, mobile phones have turned to our best friends, since they are with us all the time.
Speaking of best friends, that is what we are. At least, that's what I think we are. Lovers, we are definitely not, for I know very sure that your heart belongs to her. She is a very precious creature indeed, especially for you. The truth is, I know you were too clueless to notice, I envy her, really, she is a girl whose name could light up your eyes like the twinkling stars above the night sky. She, whose smile could make even the most stubborn butterflies in your stomach fly up to your heart and flap their wings all over it. Her luxurious Chanel perfume lingers in your nose for hours and makes you wants to stick around her the whole time, and you gladly admit that you never want to leave her. She, whose heart you stole in success and you promise on keeping it forever.
It is different with, and for me.
My name makes you tch, all the time. It hurts me a little, to be honest. Actually, it doesn't hurt me a little. It hurts me very much. My smile is oddly and no doubt a hundred percent similar to that of a baboon, you said so yourself. I was hoping that you would say my scent is strikingly ordinary, but instead you said my breath stinks and my mouth smelled like rotten eggs everytime I talked. My heart, which was beating alive and healthily, broke a little when you said that.
Alright, why do I keep saying 'a little', when it's just a myth throughout my whole description process of her? Actually, I would love to say 'a lot', however, I could not bring myself to do that, for I am such a coward.
