I couldn't be cooped up in the ladies' restroom forever, I knew that. I had to come out at some point and the longer I stayed, the more suspicious it would get. So as much as I wanted to, I had to leave. I couldn't stay hiding there.
After the sobs stopped and my body stopped trembling, I sat on the cold floor with my head in my hands. That was all I could do, really. That and trying to regulate my breathing. Trying to banish all the thoughts that chased me in here, in the first place. It's harder than it sounds. And though I wasn't completely okay, I stood up on wobbly legs.
Of course, I wasn't okay. How could I? None of the things that happened would ever go away. The things he's done to me would haunt me forever, no matter how much I wished I could just forget them. I couldn't. I would never be okay. Not the way I used to. But for now, I had to pretend like I was. Like this little stunt, I pulled wasn't more than a sickness associated with my pregnancy.
I was a mess. Mascara smeared around my eyes, some dripping down my cheeks as I dared to look at my reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, no one other than me was here, so I didn't have to face the embarrassment that meeting someone while I looked like this would bring. For once, I was happy I was alone.
Washing my face with cold water, I dared to look up in the mirror one more time before I left to berate myself. I had to make sure that though he wasn't here, I would do the job for him and remind myself of my place. Of what I've become under the influence his grip on my neck brought.
Though my body was no longer quivering, I found it hard to stand because my legs felt like jello. With each step, it felt like my knees would buckle and I'd fall to the ground once more. I did my best to remain strong though and keep myself up as I walked out of the restrooms and faced the wide hallway.
No one was waiting by the door to make sure I was okay. Not Chanyeol and not one of his employees who he'd send to do his job for him. And once again, I was grateful I was alone. It would make it so much harder if I came face to face with him first thing after what I've just gone through. Not that he wouldn't be the first person I'd see anyway, but I appreciated the time I had to prepare myself for facing him.
Heads no longer turned as I walked past the rushed workers, trying to complete their tasks within the given deadline. For once, I didn't feel like they were scrutinizing me, judging me, with their focused eyes trailing my body up and down as if looking for any clue of who I really was. Being invisible. That was just what I needed as I walked steadily, not wanting to attract any attention, with my head hung low. I was no one. Just another person walking among many.
I passed both secretaries before his office without acknowledgment from either of them and once again stepped into the office, which walls felt like they were suffocating me. I could've sworn the room shrank the second my feet crossed the doorway. My lungs constricted and I could barely draw a breath in. For a brief moment, I thought if perhaps this was how heavy smokers felt.
My heart was growing heavier and though I haven't stopped walking, it felt like I wasn't any nearer than I was five steps before. The closer I came, the further the desk and the monster sitting behind it appeared. Though I was wearing heels and the way I carried myself was usually graceful, this time it felt as if I wore iron boots, and each time my feet touched the ground, it shook below me under the pressure.
His hands were clasped together before his face, and I could barely make out his pursed lips. Black eyes, colder than usual and reserved, watched my every move like a hawk stalking its prey. Anxiety was no longer the only thing I felt, as I was becoming self-conscious under his gaze.
The walk over to him was probably the most agonizing fifteen seconds of my life and each step that brought me closer to his hunched over form made my heart leap with nerves. And though I had a perfectly made-up explanation for my sudden departure from his office, I couldn't help but fear what he would say.
Chanyeol didn't say a word and opted for watching me instead. The silence was deafening, and I was sure you could hear my heavy breathing in the room's silence. He usually had so much to say, so not having him say a word scared me more than was he yelling. I was anticipating something that wasn't coming and the longer he stayed silent, the more terrifying it became. He was a man that was easily angered, especially when things didn't go the way he wanted, and clearly, me bolting out of his office was not something he was hoping for.
Nervously, I stood before his desk, hands behind my back, fingers entwined, squeezing my own hands in the reassurance that I'd be okay. And though I knew I should say something, explain myself, I was struggling to form words under his intense stare.
Awkwardness was not something I wanted to add to the already tensed atmosphere in the room, so I decided against clearing my throat before speaking the words I rehearsed prior to leaving the restrooms. It just didn't seem like the brightest idea in the world. So instead, I dropped my eyes to the ground, eyeing the tips of my shoes, and spoke quietly that if the room wasn't already dead silent, he wouldn't have heard me.
"I'm sorry,"
He hummed disinterestedly and my throat tightened because even if he seemed completely bored, something about that spoke more volume than him being clearly angry. I wondered if he would say something, anything to acknowledge my apology, or if I should just get to the point of why I left suddenly. But it scared me that the moment I'd open my mouth, he'd start speaking and I would accidentally cut him off. He would hate that.
Seeing as he hasn't made a move to speak, though, I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued with my apology even if he looked like he was on the verge of dismissing me with a wave of a hand.
"I didn't mean to run out like that. I became sick and had to get to the restroom before I made a mess," I chuckled nervously after that as if I was embarrassed to say something like that.
"Whatever," he said finally, but it didn't elevate my nerves. If anything, they heightened with his vague answer.
There were only two versions of angry Chanyeol, one worse than the other. The immediate and absolute rage, and the one where he would act nonchalant and unbothered for some time before exploding like an active volcano with suffocating dust and fiery hot magma covering everything in its path. And that something would always end up being me.
"Please don't be mad," I pleaded as I carefully rounded his desk, taking a tentative step at a time.
"I'm not mad,"
"Yes you are, I can tell,"
"I said I wasn't mad," he growled.
"Okay then," I tried a different approach, hoping my prying wasn't fueling his anger further, "Why are you upset? What can I do to make you feel better? Something is not right, I can see how tense your shoulders are." I begged that the answer to my question wouldn't be anything crude or sexual, but thankfully his eyes didn't seem to glint the way they did when he was thinking of those things.
"Fine," he huffed and turned in his swivel chair to face me, his eyebrows knitted together, creasing his forehead, "Why do you keep doing this?"
"Huh?" I was confused, "What do you mean?"
"Oh, don't act like you don't know," he spat, "Are you really sick all the damn time?"
"W-what-...of course, I am. I'm pregnant,"
"Funny how it always happens when you're with me,"
"I don't have control over it, and trust me it's not pleasant for me either,"
"You don't have any other pregnancy symptoms Chaeyoung, stop fucking with me. What is your problem?" he raised his voice a notch.
"I don't have a problem-"
"Oh, really?" he didn't let me finish, "It pisses me off, you know? So fucking quit it. You say you want to make things better yet you keep pulling this shit,"
"I don't have time for this," my eyes bulged as soon as the words came left my mouth and my hands shot up over my lips, completely nonplussed.
"Excuse me?" his eyes widened in disbelief and I could practically see his anger levels rising. Bad move, Chaeng. I couldn't help it though, crankiness was one of the pregnancy symptoms. Even I couldn't control those.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It's just the mood swings-"
"Stop fucking using it as an excuse for everything, Jesus!" he yelled this time and suddenly the room became silent once more, not even the distinct sound of chatter from outside of the office reaching me, for I knew we were no longer the only two participants in this conversation.
"Please, listen to me," I begged, my voice dropping. I didn't want everyone listening in on our fight, "I love you and I'm sorry I am not showing you recently,"
"Damn right you aren't,"
"That's why I wanted to bring you lunch. I'm trying to make this better, honey. I really am, but you have to understand me too. It's not an excuse. I'm expecting your baby, our baby, I can't help but be a little cranky sometimes. I can't help the sickness. It has nothing to do with you. I promise. Can you believe me, please?"
With a sigh, he reached for my hands, "I guess it's fine. I've just been feeling frustrating lately. Sometimes I forget you're bearing my child. Try to act less bitchy though, yeah?" he chuckled slightly, and I had to pretend his last comment didn't irk me in the slightest though it did.
"Yes, honey. Once again, I'm sorry,"
"It's fine, leave it," he smiled, "Will you stay for lunch?"
"I'd love to," I lied, "but I'm not feeling my best. I think it's better Michael takes me home. You enjoy your lunch though,"
"Yeah, okay. I'll see you tonight then,"
"Can't wait," I smiled and turned to leave, but his hand on my wrist stopped me.
I raised my eyebrows, and he grinned, tilting his head to the side, "Kiss me first,"
"But I just-"
"You washed your mouth, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but-" I didn't finish my sentence when I saw his eyes narrowing dangerously.
Knowing I didn't really have a choice, I suppressed a gag that was building up in my throat at the thought of having his rough, slimy lips on mine, and leaned down. What I hoped to be a quick peck turned into an open-mouthed kiss as he forced his tongue inside my mouth. His saliva was all over my lips, his tongue roaming my mouth - slimy like a snail during rainy weather, but I preserved without biting it off or vomiting in his mouth.
I hated it. Hated the way he pulled me closer by the nape. My eyes were closed tight, and I hoped this moment would just pass already. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he pulled away and I resisted the urge to wipe my mouth. Chanyeol, on the other hand, looked more than satisfied.
There were no words other than "Never touch me again" burning on my tongue, so instead of speaking, I mustered up the best smile I could and turned to leave once again. And though there was no hand on my wrist to stop me this time, he couldn't help himself but slap my ass, making my fists clench. But I wouldn't turn around. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. So instead, I kept on walking, not sparing him another look.
After all, there were other things I had to tend to, and he wasn't one of them. So though he left a bitter taste in my mouth and my skin itching, I walked away with only one thought in mind. And even if I had no idea what awaited me or what our encounter would bring, the thought of those beautiful brown eyes was enough to calm the raging hormones that were screaming at me to turn around and punch the smug asshole sitting behind his desk.
I wouldn't stay long, no matter how our conversation would go. Micheal would have to text Chanyeol once he got me home safely, so I couldn't afford to have too much of a delay. It was all well thought through, at least that's what I'd like to think as I approached the turn to the private elevator, turned past my shoulder to see if he was looking, and took a left instead, heading for the elevators everyone else used. There was no way he'd know, right? I was being cautious.
That's what I kept repeating in my head as I tried to get the image of him out of my head and focus on the deep golden brown engraved on the inside of my lids.
People looked at me weirdly, but of course, no one dared to say anything. They made a corridor for me as I walked, and I had to admit it was nice not having to push through to get where I wanted to go. Even when the elevator came and I walked inside, only two other people dared to join me, as others looked nervous and seemed like they'd rather wait for the next one.
I couldn't blame them, because have I been in their shoes, I'd probably be the same. But I knew them fearing me wasn't right, and though my throat felt dry with anticipation of the nearing moment, I smiled.
Those who caught it looked taken back by the lack of coldness and stuck up attitude. They looked around nervously as if seeking encouraging words from one another before taking cautious steps and filling the elevator. Still, they left plenty of room, which I knew was unusual since I've always seen the elevators packed and wondered how the people inside breathed.
The way down was probably the most agonizing minute, or hours considered it felt like that, of my life and each number flashing on the little screen, slowly nearing my stop, made my heart leap. I wasn't entirely sure if it was nerves or excitement, so I settled on not analyzing the feeling and rather focus on not forgetting how to breathe. Because the closer I got, the more I felt like a baby, learning how to walk.
Everyone was silent, and I was definitely not happy to be alone with my thoughts. I wished they would talk. About anything, really, I didn't care. They could talk about how tiring their week has been or how they couldn't wait to spend their weekends with their families. Hell, they could talk shit about Chanyeol. God knows I would probably join them. But no, they haven't spoken a word and all I could hear was the sound of my heart rattling against my rib cage and of blood rushing in my ears.
The dinging sound filled the confined space and the automatic door slid open. From behind the shoulders of men and women standing in front of me was revealed a long hallway, I've acquainted myself with the last time I visited, and my heart dropped. This was it.
"Excuse me," I found the strength to mutter and heads turned immediately, voicing out their apologies as they filled out of the elevator and let me exit.
Saying the simple phrase was hard enough and so instead of saying "Thank you," I smiled politely and nodded my head at the nervous-looking people. I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to talk to her when I could barely speak a word to people who didn't mean anything to me.
How was I meant to say anything to the intimidating woman who meant the world to me? Heck, I knew I would have a problem looking at her, let alone speaking. But then again, I was faced with the same worry last time, and I managed. Of course, how it turned out was an entirely different story since apparently, I was no one to her now.
I liked to think I thought this through, but clearly, I didn't. Just like last time, I had no idea what I was doing, I never seemed to around her. As it always used to be, it remained that she just had that effect on me. Rendering me a speechless mess, not capable of even looking at her unless her fingers touched my chin and forced me to face her. God, how much I missed that.
The way she would look at me so softly, her eyes telling me all that she failed to. Those eyes, that assured me that even if the world was ending, we would be okay. Silently prompting me to face her and be open with her the same way she's been with me. Each time showing me just how deep her love was when our eyes connected, her soft, gentle ones staring right into my scared ones.
Her fingers, as if dancing across my skin like the royals did in an open ballroom, spinning the one they loved, twirling them around, and holding them close. I missed the way my body reacted, immediately relaxing when she was near, spreading through my system like wildfire, setting both my heart and mind ablaze.
I would never feel that again. It hurt, knowing I had all that and gave it up. She would never be mine again, and yet, here I was standing in front of her door hoping things could be different. But there was nothing left of us to fix. Nothing to hold on to. No two broken pieces needing mending.
Lisa was someone else, and I was too. Destiny had a strange way of making things happen just the way they were meant to. And that was enough for me to know; that no matter how much I loved her in this life, it could never be enough.
So though I didn't know what to say, I knew it was supposed to be this way. Because no matter how hard I'd ponder my words, how much I'd think them over and over in my head, learning them so I could recite them as a poem once my eyes met hers, I would still be left speechless when my gaze would fall on her. Why bother overthinking this if I would end up crying, anyway. Once I'd find my strength, the right words would come to me. Or so I hoped.
However, there was one more problem I faced; whether to knock and let her know it was me or not. I knew she wouldn't open the door if she knew it was me who was standing behind it. I couldn't just knock and not say anything because if she asked and wouldn't get an answer, that would only anger her. And for this conversation, I certainly didn't need her to be even angrier than she would be once she'd see me.
Looking back, it probably wasn't the brightest idea, but I decided on just opening the door, slowly, so she would realize someone was coming in, and apologize for not knocking. There were several things flawed with this plan, but in my current state of mind and just on the verge of backing out, it was the best plan I could think of.
And though I hated to do it, I was, after all, the wife of the company's CEO. I could afford to be a bitch and do what I wanted. Though I really hoped she wouldn't see it like that.
So without further hesitation, and time to talk myself out of what I was about to do, I wrapped my hand around the door handle and pushed the metal down, gently prying the door opened.
"I'm sorry I didn't knock, I just knew you probably-"
"What the fuck?!" Lisa's yell cut me off, and I opened my eyes, which I closed instinctively as I opened the door, to face Lisa's red face as she stood up from the ground, her shirt down and a woman's back facing me as she sat on Lisa's desk.
"Oh my God," I exhaled in shock, "I'm so sorry-"
"Are you fucking insane?" Lisa screamed as she made a quick way of throwing her shirt back on and doing the buttons while the woman on her desk hopped down, flattening her skirt and buttoning her blouse, "I'm so sorry for this," I heard Lisa mutter quietly to the tall blonde.
I turned around quickly, opting for looking out of the window instead and ignoring the pain that started spreading through my chest and the heat creeping up my cheeks in embarrassment. Only did I dare to turn around when I was sure they were both decent to find Lisa glaring daggers at me, assuring me that if she didn't absolutely loather me before, she sure as hell did now, and a very embarrassed (and stunningly gorgeous) blonde.
Both of them were still panting slightly, hair disheveled, and faces red. Have it been from the activity they seemed to be engaged in prior to my intrusion or embarrassment, I did not wish to find out. But from the way they were looking at me and standing awkwardly, well the blonde was, Lisa looked like she was on the verge of leaping forward and punching me in the throat, it wasn't hard to figure out.
"U-Uhm, I better go," the blonde woman mumbled shyly, ducking her head and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, not meeting my eyes, "I'm so sorry for this Mrs. Park," and with that she disappeared out of Lisa's office, closing the door behind her.
So was this Lisa's work morale. Was this the proper work etiquette? Fucking her coworkers instead of doing the work she was paid to do. Seriously, was this who she's become now? Was this the "lifestyle" Jennie told me about? I was becoming pissed as I stared at the woman in front of me who after that dared to look angry with me.
I couldn't believe her, fucking around like that at work, not even bothering to lock the door. It's like she wanted to get caught, and still, she has the audacity to look at me as if I interrupted her. Like I'm sorry you couldn't finish the woman off, maybe do it in your spare fucking time.
Every passing second my anger continued rising as I stared into her eyes burning with anger. Her nostrils were flared, and she was breathing so loudly I was developing aggressive urges. She balled her hands into fists and so did I. My jaw clenched and so did hers.
"What the fuck is your problem?" she seethed slowly, calmly, and I could tell she was really holding herself back as a vein on her neck pulsed dangerously.
Scoffing, I folded my arms in defiance, "Seriously?"
"Think your words over carefully, Chaeyoung or I swear to God..."
"Or what?" I seethed myself, and stepped closer to the woman trembling in anger, "Should've locked the damn door if you didn't want to get caught fucking during work hours,"
"You shouldn't even fucking be here," I could practically hear her teeth grind.
"No, you are the one who shouldn't be fucking here. You're at work for fuck's sake, is this what we're paying you for-"
"It's none of your business what I do, you aren't paying me for anything. Now get the fuck out, I don't want to see you for another second," she growled, no longer keeping her composure so well.
"I'm. Not. Going. Anywhere." I enunciated every word carefully, "And neither are you," I smiled sweetly, "I came to talk to you,"
"Well, I have nothing to say to you, so get the fuck out," she almost yelled this time.
"Why? So you can fuck some bitch-"
"I said get the fuck out, Chaeyoung!"
"Or what?!"
"Don't fucking test me. You have no business being in here!"
"Well, I'm not leaving. I came to talk to you and I'm going to whether or not you like it,"
"You're fucking unbelievable," she scoffed and turned around to walk towards her desk.
"I'm unbelievable?" I yelled and put my hand on her shoulder, stopping her from leaving, "You're the one fucking your coworkers like it's no big deal and being a fucking bitch!"
"Don't fucking touch me," she warned and shoved my hand forcefully off her shoulder, "If you're not leaving, I am,"
"Like hell you are," I moved to stand in front of her, blocking the path to the door.
Grabbing her jacket from her desk, she pushed past me, almost sending me tumbling down, and gave me one last glare before leaving the office. However, just as she was about to slam the door behind her, she stopped, saying one last thing to me before leaving me alone in her office, "I never want to see you again,"
There was nothing more I could do than gape at the closing door, leaving a freezing cold emptiness and silence in its stead. I didn't bother stopping her this time. She has made her decision, and it was abundantly clear to me; I wasn't welcome. Not now, and not ever.
I knew that before; I wasn't stupid enough to think she wanted me, but perhaps a part of me hoped this time would be different. That once I'd walk inside, I'd see the old warm Lisa, not the person she's become now. But people change. Like a diamond, they shape under pressure. And from a rock, a tiny crystal is formed, one that is unrecognizable from its original form.
Silence reverberated the room, completely overtook it. So much so that when an unexpected sniffle made its way through me, it wasn't hard to notice. I felt like a failure. Like I messed everything up even more than it already was. How could I do this? To her and myself? And how could she do this? Was I really no one at all?
Clearly, she's moved on. I knew she has. But knowing she saw me less than an hour ago and yet found someone straightaway, like seeing me did nothing to her at all hurt more than I cared to admit. Was I really just someone to fill a void? Even then? Just someone to make her feel less alone? So when I left her, she actually didn't suffer all that much because after all, I was just someone to fill the space. I was a temporary fix, wasn't I? And now when she saw me, she didn't even react. Didn't stop to think, didn't care for an explanation. She didn't care. And that made me think, did she ever?
Little sniffles turned into quiet sobs as my shoulders shook lightly, and tears stung in my eyes. I tried to keep them in the best I could, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as more thoughts swarmed my mind. It was becoming harder each time I felt a part of my heart chip away. Just like that, she replaced me. Like a used tool that was no longer any good to her.
Was that really all I was? A tool? I tried to remember all the times she made me feel special, like no one in the world mattered, but all that it did was hurt me more. Memories of her holding my hand, telling me she loved me, became the chipper my heart was merely tossed into.
Right here in this room, she couldn't even wait to get home, she...I felt broken. Seeing her like this was the last nail in the coffin. She didn't even care it was me who caught her; she was just upset to be caught. Lisa didn't even bet an eyelash at the fact it was me, because I wasn't worth that acknowledgment.
To her, I was just Mrs. Park who interrupted her before she could finish what she started. Just like that, she tossed me aside. Here I was thinking of ways to tell her, to set things at least remotely right, get them on the right track. But she didn't care for it. Heck, she was probably on the way to find the blonde to finish her off. My presence did nothing to her. Nothing like hers did to me.
While I was standing in the middle of her office, shoulders shaking, quivering lips covered by a shaky hand muffling the sobs, she was on her knees, not giving a damn. It hurt more than I thought it could.
I wanted to scream, to let my tears form a river around her desk, soaking the carpeted floor. But all I could manage was silence and a few drops landing on the tips of my shoes, before I looked up, seeking the ceiling and stopping the tears before they got the chance to cross the border of my bottom lid.
Was this really what my life has come to? Having absolutely nothing to hold on to? Without realizing it, Lisa has become my beacon in the stormy weather in the vast ocean. The one ray of light in the far distance that I could've just as well imagined, and yet I set sail towards it, not giving up hope it was more than just a hallucination.
But now, she wasn't a broken lighthouse that, despite its cracks and shattered glass littering the floors, provided shelter. Turns out, she wasn't a lighthouse after all, and all I've seen was the projection of what I was hoping to find. So instead of reaching the one thing I hoped to save me, like the Titanic, I hit an iceberg instead, sending me sinking all the way to the bottom of the ocean.
There was a time I let go of the lifebuoy I was holding onto when I was scared. The one Lisa gently pried away from my hold and held me above the surface, instead. And now all I did was wish I didn't. That I was still safe within the orange ring preventing me from disappearing underwater. Because as beautiful as I let myself believe letting go was, at the end of the day, the only one holding me up was me. And I no longer had the strength to. My arms hurt as I tried to swim up, and now that I've realized there was nothing to reach for anyway, I gave up. I freed myself of the pain of hope, of searching for something that wasn't there. They say that no matter what, you should never give up, that there's more to fight for, but was there really? Why fight a losing battle? One when you're alone in the ring. I was tired. For once, my heart and my head agreed on something. So with one last smile, I let the dark coldness engulf my body as I opened my mouth to take a breath and let the water enter my lungs, setting me free.
...
Jisoo unnie :
So?
How'd it go?
I didn't have the strength to reply to her as I finally arrived in the penthouse, so I decided on ignoring her texts. She meant well, but I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to relive the moment I've witnessed in Lisa's office. I wanted to forget, and if it wasn't for the baby steadily growing inside me, I'd reach for the liquor cabinet. Not once have I needed it this much. And now that I did, I couldn't do anything to take away the pain.
No alcohol, no pills to soothe the pain. It was just me and my self-destructive thoughts not leaving me alone. Because though I wasn't reliving the moment, it kept on replaying, finding its home in my head and refusing to leave even after I begged it to. I knew I deserved this but did I really have to suffer this much?
Knowing she's moved on and seeing it were two completely different things, and though having the gut feeling hurt, witnessing it with my own two eyes, was like a bullet to my heart, sliding right through me. And she was behind the trigger, pulling it without a single sign of regret or hesitation on her cold, stoic face. She knew what she was doing, and she executed it perfectly.
And though I resented her for the way she threw me away, I guess I was jealous more. I envied the life she had, the ability to ignore my presence, to treat me like a stranger. She could move on and forget while I could never do that. Not with the constant reminder of her existence in my mind.
I'd ask her how she did that. How she got the memories out, but couldn't. She wouldn't tell me her secret and I refused to show her I was the only one who couldn't move on. That, and perhaps I wanted to keep them. Perhaps I differed from her.
While she threw them away with everything I left with her, and let it go out in flames in a burning trash can, I cherished them. I put them into a box and locked it up in my heart, only opening it at my worse times. Because as painful as it was to look back at the life I used to have, it made me feel at home. It made me feel like maybe sometimes; she searched for me too, opened her little wooden chest to cast a glance at what we used to have. Thinking of her, possibly thinking of me too, made me feel a little less homesick.
But I could no longer do that now, not when I knew her treasure box burned along with everything else. And all the memories we've made got replaced by new, perhaps, better ones. That was what happened in life, wasn't it? You kept on creating new and new memories, but you weren't supposed to bury the ones you've already had...right? So why was it so damn easy for her? Was I the broken one, hung up on the past?
I left her. I had no right to be jealous of the things she had. But I couldn't help but wonder, did the blonde know she held me in the dark? Or that I had you from the start? Did she know the bruises never change? I left marks on her heart. Did Lisa remember? I had her from the start and no matter who would come after me; I knew they could never love her the way I did.
Did she, though? Did she open up to her, trust her, and let herself be vulnerable with her like she was with me? Did she take pictures of her and tell her she was her favorite? Did she catch her looking at them when she wasn't around? Was she the one Lisa held with all she had? Did she take her on spontaneous dates like she used to with me? Did she grab her hand in public the second she let go? Did she love her? More than you used to love me?
You used to say you were there when I felt helpless. If that was true, why don't you help me now? It's my fault, I know I'm selfish. I'm standing alone, with no one helping to hold me up, yet my soul is jealous as I watch you stand on your own.
My heart wanted your love. I wanted to give it back. I wanted to love you forever and feel you love me back. But I guess when things got hard, I rejected it. Traded the feeling of joy in your presence for my own protection, not thinking of yours. But clearly, you didn't need it.
I'm drowning, yet you're not grabbing my hand as you promised. I feel my heart pounding, it's not being exactly quiet. You could hear it in a room full of people. So why haven't you found me yet? Is this what we've come down to? No longer looking for one another, but avoiding each other? Is this what I caused?
When you were mine, I held you proudly, does she? I shouldn't blame you, I was the one to let go, yet here I am, wishing you'd just love me back. But I guess this was the reality check I needed. You clearly let go, and now it was my turn to. Though I would struggle more than you, not all of us were strong enough to kill off the part of ourselves that still felt.
Jisoo unnie :
Chaeyoung?
The texts kept coming, but I couldn't be bothered to reply. My mind was no longer in New York, in the empty apartment. It was all the way to the west, chasing Malibu nights, not helping to heal my mind. I guess I couldn't do what Lisa did, I couldn't forget.
Those nights we've spent driving under street lights, heading to the beach to lie on the sandy beach of Malibu under the night sky, were the only thing I could hold on to. Not necessarily for Lisa, but for my remaining sanity. Because though they were memories, ones that brought up the pain, they still made me feel the happiest I've felt in years. I couldn't let go of that, and I guess that meant that unlike her, I could never truly move on.
Jennie unnie :
Hey, you okay?
Jisoo is getting worried and you know how she gets, so please just text us.
My phone kept blowing up with texts I had no desire of replying to. They were bound to stop at some point. So instead of shooting them a quick reply to ease their minds, I was selfish once again, and ignore them.
However, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before my phone rang again, this time with a call from the older Kim. And though I haven't been nearly as close to her as I used to, I knew she wouldn't relent until I picked up the phone. I would've just turned it off, but I couldn't risk the chance of Chanyeol not reaching me in case he called.
So with a loud sigh, I grabbed the phone and answered flatly, "What?"
"Don't what me! You weren't answering your texts, I was worried. You said you'd let us know!" Jisoo accused on the other line, and I could hear Jennie agreeing in the background.
"Sorry, I was tired," I lied smoothly, "It went fine,"
"That's it-"
"Fine?!" Jennie cut her off as she presumably stole her phone, "What do you mean fine? How could that go, just fine?"
"Jennie-"
"Oh shut it Jisoo, she's clearly lying," she cut her wife off again.
"I know but-"
"Well, clearly I'm not needed here so I'll just go," I informed but before I got the chance to press the red button on the screen, their united scream coming from the speaker stopped me, knowing they'd just call again.
"Spill!" they ordered in unison, and I couldn't not roll my eyes at the two women behaving like gossiping teenagers in high school.
"I told you, it went fine. Lisa was in her office, so I came in. We exchanged a few words and I won't be seeing her again. We both think it's for the best," no one could accuse me of lying because technically, leaving out a few details here and there, I told them exactly what went down. Well, maybe beside the part where it "went fine".
"Okay, let's try that again, but the truth this time," Jisoo spoke over the phone and I wondered how she knew what I said wasn't entirely true. Yet, I went with it in case she was bluffing.
"What?" I chuckled and cringed right after, at how fake that sounded, "I just told you,"
"Chaeyoung," Jisoo started again, her voice sympathetic and cautious this time, "Your voice is shaking. Be honest, you can tell us,"
"Jisoo it's-"
"Don't hold it in, we're here for you," Jennie added, commiseration in her voice as if she saw it on her own, "We've got you, babe,"
"S-She," my voice wavered as the memories came flooding back, stronger now that I was no longer pushing them back, "...she was with someone else," I sniffled, "We fought. She said she never wanted to see me again,"
"Oh...I'm so sorry, Chaeng,"
"No, no, it's my fault. What was I hoping for, anyway?" I laughed humorlessly, "She hates me more than before. I lashed out at her too. I said some stupid things and I-... I had no right to be jealous, but God! It was so hurtful. I shouldn't have gone. I knew it was a bad idea. I should've let it go,"
"Well, that's true, you were the one to leave. You really don't have any right to be mad at her,"
"I know that okay! I know! But fuck, I don't want her to be with anyone else. I love her, I never stopped!" I yelled in a mix of frustration, sadness, and anger, as the images of Lisa on her knees in front of the blonde women flashed in my mind. It was only when the line went silent did I realize what I told the women on the other side. But before I got the chance to speak, Jisoo beat me to it.
"We know Chaengie, we know,"
"W-what?" my voice quivered, "H-how?"
But instead of answering my question, she asked one of her own, "You're wearing her hoodie right now, aren't you?"
I looked down at the grey worn-out fabric and brought the long sleeve up to my eyes to wipe away the hot tears that started running down my cheeks. It was true. Despite the hurt, it was the first thing I've done when I came back. I needed to feel her. Despite the anger I felt for her, I need her. Her love, her embrace, her scent, neither of them being carried by the fabric anymore. But it was the memories it held I clung on to.
"We know you feel hopeless," Jennie spoke up after it became clear I wouldn't, "but I ask you, don't give up. I know you think she doesn't care, and that she hates you, but she's hurting too Chae. You can't see it, but she is. Yes, you fucked up by getting all up in her face, but she needs to know the truth. And you can trust me when I say, she's not as okay as she pretends to be. She never stopped loving you either, even if she pretends she did,"
"How can I talk to someone who doesn't want me? She said it herself, she never wants to see me again," I cried, "She hates me, Jennie, she fucking hates me."
"Trust me, under all that resentment and tough act she puts on, she's still the same Lisa you left behind three years ago. And she's scared. Scared you're going to hurt her again. But she needs you. No one could get to her before and no one can get to her now. No one besides you. Please Chaeyoung, don't give up on her again,"
"I can't go back, forgive me Jennie, but I can't," I sobbed.
"Then you haven't changed one bit. You're still running away when things get hard. She fought for you before, why can't you?"
"You love her, don't you?" Jisoo's voice rang through the phone this time.
"...I do," I whispered.
"Then go do something about it,"