l/n y/n has always loved girls. you always thought that they were the prettiest things in the world, with their pouty lips and pierced ears and smiles that light up the world. but you also love boys, and one day, when doyoung stumbles into your life...
You do not look like you belong in a bar. That is the first and only thought running through Keysha's mind as she watches you glide through the bar, graceful as ever. If she wasn't paying attention to your feet, the flowy dress makes it seem as if your shoes never touch the floor.
You tug on your earrings and tilt your head up as you speak quietly to your friend, a tall man who towers over you, shielding you from tipsy customers stumbling around. Keysha watches the smile on your face, wondering if she had ever looked at you that way before.
You are a pretty little thing, all sweet words and soft smiles in front of everyone else. But behind closed doors, you kiss with reckless abandon and love truly, fully, with all of your heart. That's what made Keysha hesitate—and eventually how you ended up breaking up.
Keysha dated you for a whole three years before you broke up, and there was nothing fairytale-like about it. Sure, there were times when Keysha drove you back to her apartment and you talked until the lights went low, or when you visited the library and did nothing but sit there for hours, enveloped in the story and the comfort of each other. But that wasn't the whole of it.
The breakup was messy and painful, and you have never really healed from it. Keysha's relationship with you was always kept on the down low, and Keysha never really met any of your friends in high school.
Being older than you, Keysha also felt that there was a power imbalance in your relationship that she was uncomfortable with. When you told Keysha to stop controlling you one day, Keysha's immediate response was, "You're not old enough to make your own decisions."
Keysha still remembers the exact conversation, exactly how it went down. You asked, "Then why are you still dating me? Huh?", and the pout of your lips and the tears streaming down your face were enough for Keysha to snap out of it. It felt like exiting a daze, the deceiving trance that convinced her it was alright to date a high-schooler. That nothing could go wrong.
"You're right. Maybe we're not suited for each other." To this day, though Keysha thinks she might have been a bit harsh and abrupt with her words, she thinks you—and herself—needed to hear those words. So she doesn't regret saying it. If she had a choice, she'd say it again.
Maybe it was a bad idea on her part to grab her purse and leave the apartment at the time, but Keysha needed space and you weren't exactly the best at leaving others alone.
Since then, Keysha hasn't ever seen you around again, and the last she had heard of you, you have since moved on. Not wanting to reopen old wounds, Keysha left you alone for both of you to find your happily-ever-afters.
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The pub is filled with people, a claustrophobe's nightmare. The air is jam-packed with heavy smells of liquor, and Keysha steals a glance at the stage. It is open-mic night, but not really, because the bar has found a band willing to perform for the night. The band desperately needs the publicity and has settled for the low price of free drinks.
