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FAKE LOVE
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Yi-Seo

It has been a really long day, and it seems as if I’ve been awake for a year, and not like a little over twenty-four hours. I definitely need to sleep, and I’m pretty sure that if I fall asleep, I wouldn’t think about Jungkook or the mess that happened today or about Taehyung or anyone or anything else.

Stepping inside the bathroom, I strip myself, turn on the shower and stand under the warm water, wishing that it had the power to wash away the pain and heaviness that I’m feeling right now. I run a hand over the cigarette burn marks that were seared into the skin along my stomach and my outer thighs by the one who I called my boyfriend for a few years.

Hot tears mixed with the warm water from the shower wash down my face as my shoulders shake and shudder with my whimpers.

I desperately want to forget everything and move on, but every time I look at myself, I’m only reminded of all the pain and suffering that he caused in my life. No amount of tears seems to be healing me, and these are the scary, lonely nights where the darkness feels so powerful that it threatens to consume me, and I feel like ending it all and attaining peace forever.

Hugging my knees to my chest, I sit on the floor under the shower, allowing all the negativity to wash out of me in the form of bitter tears. My tears seem endless, and my chest vibrates with my lonely whimpers as I let it all out, burying my face in my knees.

I should be strong; I must prove to Jungkook and everyone else that I’m not who they think I am. I am not a pushover. I have done no wrong except falling in love with a rogue and giving all of me to an asshole who clearly had no good intentions or pure love in his heart ever.

I mean, after the breakup, he should have at least missed me for everything we had. We lived together for a whole freaking three years, after all! If he had approached me in a better way today, I might have accepted to hear him out and spend some time with him. But he is still the same or even worse now, filled with venom, speaking disgusting and degrading things as he has always been doing.

Thinking about him is a total waste of time.

Tonight, I will get rid of the last tangible memories of Jungkook and us that I have, and after that, I will surely feel a lot better. I will resume writing the story of Selena and Charlie and keep myself busy. Yes, that’s what I will do. I will never cry over him ever again because he’s just not worth it. He will not ever realize what he has lost. So why should I suffer for him?

The moment I make a mental resolve to be strong—for probably the millionth time—is punctuated by the doorbell that goes off loudly, making my heart leap a little because of the suddenness.

Rising from the floor, I wipe away my tears and turn off the shower, carelessly sliding into my baby-blue terry bathrobe before I step out of the bathroom and head towards the front door. The doorbell rings again by the time I get there, and without remembering to use the camera to see who is here, I open the door just a little to peep out since I’m not dressed modestly to allow anyone to see me just as I am.

The moment I open the door, my eyes widen when they find Taehyung standing at my doorstep holding a bottle of some peach-colored drink in one hand. I’m only barely poking my head out through the creak in the door at this point.

“You’re naked, aren’t you?” He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Why are you here?” I answer with a question, still standing in the same position, hiding my body behind the door.

He says nothing but only extends forward his hand holding the drink, keeping his eyes on my face.

“What’s this?”

“Not alcohol, hasn’t reached expiry yet. I thought you might need-” before he finishes speaking, I snatch the bottle from his hand and slam the door shut.

I tie the robe more securely around my body, and after a few seconds, I re-open the door a little wider, by which time Taehyung has moved a few steps away from my doorway.

“Taehyung-ssi,” my voice makes him stop and turn around to look at me as he stands rooted on his spot with his hands inside the pockets of his trousers, his hair fluttering, and his shirt billowing with the gentle nighttime breeze and sticking to his frail body. “Thank you,” I say with a small smile, and he blankly nods his head a few times.

Without saying anything more, he walks back to his home, and I close the door too and head back inside. After wearing my glasses, I read the label on the bottle that he just gave me. It is a bottle of peach juice that hasn’t been opened yet, and I laugh softly when I think about this little considerate gesture of Taehyung that actually means so much to me.

Externally, he seems rude, cold and everything, but I can see that he isn’t a bad person at all. He checked on me after I ran out of his home, he bothered to get me a drink because he poured away my slushie, and he even did his best to defend me from Jungkook earlier today when he barely even knows anything about me. I felt safe and protected when he held my hand and defended me, or at least he tried his best to safeguard me. Above all, he hasn’t crossed his limits by asking me any questions which I greatly appreciate.

I place the bottle of juice on the kitchen counter and proceed to dry my hair and get dressed for bed. It takes me about twenty minutes to get ready for bed, and then I pull out the cardboard boxes from under my bed.

Retrieving the small drawstring pouch and a photo album from one of the boxes, I place them both on the floor and open up the album first and flip through the pages.

There are about twenty-five polaroid photographs of Jungkook and I, that we had taken during the happy days of our relationship, and I can see that we both are genuinely smiling in all those pictures. One of those polaroid pictures is especially close to my heart. It was taken by one of Jungkook’s many friends, and it shows us both kissing in the sunset. As much as I want to destroy this picture, it is also attached to a very special memory because that was the day when we first made love to each other, or at least that is what I want to believe it was.

Fresh tears well up within my eyes, and before I know it, I find myself crumbling into a crying mess once again.

I can’t believe that I was so lame to let him control my life like that.

But this time, it doesn’t take long for me to console myself and put away the pictures once again without discarding or destroying them—meaning that I’m still stuck and not moving on from the past. I, however, choose to consider the lesser time it takes for me to gather myself to be proof of progress.

I open the drawstring pouch and pour out the contents on the floor. The tiny pieces of jewelry that include earrings, pendants, finger rings, and a slender hip chain clink onto the cold tile floor, the stones in them sparkling under the soft lights in my room. Gifting jewelry was his love language, and every little thing laying on the floor now was gifted to me by Jungkook on special occasions like my birthday or his birthday or on our little silly anniversaries.

I still hold the memories associated with most of them in a very special place within my heart, but I desperately want to erase them from my memory. Ever since we broke up, I haven’t worn any of this jewelry, but that is not helping in any way.

I should at least get rid of these things right away.

Stuffing the jewels back into the pouch, I draw it close, and without any second thoughts, I walk down to my kitchen to dump the pouch into the trash. But, I know me. I might go soft later on and fish this pouch out of the trash.

Nope, that isn’t happening.

I will throw these into the lake, yes! That’s the best way to get rid of them forever.

With a sudden surge of energy, I wear my flip-flops and almost sprint out of my home at full speed, straight to the arched wooden footbridge over the lake. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I open up the pouch and turn it upside down, watching as the pieces of sparkling jewelry slowly tumble out and plunge into the lake beneath the bridge.

As I see off the last piece of jewelry, I instantly feel a wave of physical relief wash over me as though some humongous mountain has been moved out of my chest. The little pieces of jewelry disturb the pristine reflection of the moon on the surface of the lake, but the serenity that follows the turbulence quite literally reflects the situation within my mind. Good riddance.

Spinning around on my heels, I abruptly crash into someone who is standing so close to me, causing my whole body to unsteadily stumble backward until I finally regain the balance in my feet and stand back up.

It’s Taehyung again, and I don’t even know how to react anymore because I just seem to be bumping into him or encountering him all the time. But in a corner of my mind, I’m also having a sneaky suspicion that Taehyung might be tailing me for some reason because how on earth could two people keep meeting like this over and again so many times in a single day?

He leans his hip on the fence of the footbridge, crossing his arms under his chest as he watches me closely, and the heavy bags under his eyes clearly give away that he is also in dire need of a few hours of precious sleep, just like me.

“That isn’t going to make you feel better,” he says softly, tilting his head in the direction of the lake.

Why is he even bothered?

“I’m going to believe that it will help,” I state confidently, raising my chin a little.

Taehyung remains silent, but I can easily guess that something is going on inside his head, and there seems to be quite a lot that he wants to say, but he seems to be holding back his words.

Maybe because I’m giving off that closed-door energy? That’s okay because he isn’t ready to tell me anything as well, and I think I can understand his reluctance to speak because it is still too early for him to tell me anything at all. The same holds good for me, even though I feel the need to pour out to someone and get some advice at this point. Besides, he is among the very few and rare men in my life who have made me feel safe, even if it was for just a short while.

And him being an older and more mature person, I would any day look up to men or women of his age and stature for life advice.

However, I don’t speak anything more to him, and I just give him a small, polite bow before I practically jog out of the spot.

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Random and totally unrelated question : What is your dream vacation spot? Mine is not just one, but three - Amalfi coast (Italy), Santorini (Greece), Garachico (Spain). *in my dreams*
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Published on : 01/09/2023