[1] Gone Groom | Seonghwa ✓

five | good friends give bad advice

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'SONNY?'

I GROAN UNDERNEATH THE thick material of protection, burying myself deeper. I feel safe enough, needless to say, it doesn't mute out the incessant knocks on wood.

  'Sonny, I know you're in there?'

   'Go away,' I call, barely. My voice almost don't reach my own ears. It's croak-ish, it gnaws painfully at my throat. It reminds me of mother from this morning.

   Her tears, how much it all intensified after Hongjoong dropped the bomb about Seonghwa's disappearance. I do think of mother, still donned in her designer suit, face mottled with red splotches here and there from endless wailing. There's probably no one there to offer emotional support—father is busy—and I wish there is. Just not me. Given my current state, I know all too well that mother wouldn't find solace in anything I might say.

   The search for the missing cheater. Everyone was pissed; I wish everyone would just butt out of it. Father, San, Wooyoung. I even got to catch a glimpse of Yuki's dark side this morning. It's none of their business, whatever decides to happen between us both, yet I know it is—as addling as it might sound. Probably because these people are connected to me in one way or the other, and they're driven by love or something ... I'm not sure. But, yeah, I don't want anyone laying a single fingertip on that lush mess of hair...

   Aish! I cannot believe I still want to protect him. He deserves everything coming to him.

   No, he doesn't.

   No ... no, he doesn't, I acquiese with my subconscious without question.

   'Sonny, if you don't open this door, I'll...' I hesitate, 'I'll break it down.'

   Like you can do that, I think and snort at the droll image. Aversely, I push up to a sitting position, accepting the accompanied headache with open arms. Standing presents itself a heinous task, and for a second or two I let the blood flow to every last nook and cranny of my feet. Only then am I able to put one foot in front of the other. Slowly, sluggishly, the thick duvet trailing behind with each step.

  Gosh, I'm dying here.

  Bae's eyes, a burnished pair, are peforative yet troubling as they take in how frightful I know I look. They widen a smidgen before one corner of red-glossed lips tilt down in a slight pout. Ah, jeez. The mere sight of pity almost has me slamming the door in her face. Also because it feels like something fun. In the end, I make do with an eye roll, turn on my heel—with much effort, mind you—and head back to my makeshift bed.

  A few steps before the door slams shut and another groan elicits from my throat. Parched.

   Three...

  Two...

   'When I get my hands on that two-timing, no good, cheating scumbag of a...' Much more colorful words follow after, enough to mutilate Seonghwa out of existence at a go. Bae's disdainful mouth is oddly comforting at this time. I would take it over having him beaten to a pulp. 'I'll casterate him! I must and I will!'

   None of anything she says sounds unfamiliar. They are all reiterated phrases, maybe a few new ones, I'd been hearing since the wedding was called off.

   The humiliation, the hurt, the insult, I think. A new wave of anger hits, however, it isn't the kind that makes one go berzerk, no, it triggers hot tears instead.

  I feel her heated gaze on me. And I don't need to look to I she is contemplative, nor do you want to look. God, I just want her out of here. 'How are you?'