APRIL 27, 2023.

"Are you prepared for this?" Beomgyu asked me as I looked away from the practice script, my eyes ready to fall shut. This acting was so bad, and not in a subjective way. It's nothing against them because I know they're students, but shouldn't they go to a performing arts school if they want to be stars? No. I should be nice. These people just aren't fit for our film. "You look like you're about to break. Should we split it up between two days? The break is almost over."

"No, no, it's okay," I rubbed my eyes, swallowing my sorrows. "This is going to be a trial and error thing. I know what I signed up for as a director. Let me just get a drink of water, and we can continue, okay?"

"Okay. Text me if you need anything," I nodded, getting out of my chair. I entered the corridor and saw a few of the theater majors talking about the roles, some smiling and waving–to which I forced myself to acknowledge them. I rounded the corner and stopped at the water fountain, reaching down for a drink. Holding my hair back, I opened my mouth for air and hydration. My finger pressed on the cold metal, letting it surge into my veins and to the back of my neck, begging for me to wake from my daze. I had to remind myself the hardest part wasn't here yet.

I was still going to relive the year of torment.

"Yewon."

You are everywhere. In my dreams, my nightmares, my prayers, my curses, and my reality. Here you are, again, at school, calling my name in front of everyone who has seen you. I've begun to think that no matter how much I suppressed my desires, I ended up in front of the sun again.

I led myself right to you. "Soobin."

I let go of my hair and stood up straight, fixing my posture. I bet I looked weird doing so–because it felt weird trying to stay composed in front of him. If he came any closer to me or rounded the corner, he'd see the actors lined up to mimic him, to mimic that vicious flame in his eyes. I had to make sure he left on the path he came. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come find you," He replied simply, attempting to wear a smile. Something told me it was forced. "I've just been walking around, hoping that I'd catch you in the wild."

I raised my eyebrows sarcastically, suppressing my brain's call to be rude. "Well, you found me."

"I did," He repeated, sticking his hand out not even a second later. I stared at the bread in a plastic wrapper, the seal intact, deeming it untouched. "I wanted to give you this. It's chocolate-filled. You liked it back then."

I shook my head, declining the offer. "I don't eat chocolate now," I said. "You should have it yourself. I know you liked it equally as much as I did."

Fuck. An eyebrow raised, intrigued by my choice of words. I pretended that I didn't have a second thought about it, or else he'd believe I had a motive. So, he swallowed and reached for my hand, gripping it tight and placing the bread in the palm of my hand.

"Just take it. It wouldn't make sense for me to keep it when it's clearly a gift for you," He urged, placing his hands politely in front of his body. "That's all. I'll be–"

"I heard you cried," I started the conversation. Just as I sensed, when I looked up, he was full of fear, eyes widened in horror. "Don't ask who. Don't wonder about it, either. Why?"

"What else am I going to cry about? A bad grade?" Well, yes. Is that not normal? Oh, I forgot–this shithead is always the perfect tester. Unlike me–I'd beg for an average of Cs. "I cried about us. About how you pushed me away, although when we hugged, it felt like home. I wanted to hold onto it for so long, but then, I remind myself that you're gone. You're not–"

"Don't finish it," I croaked out, sliding my tongue between my teeth. Shaking my head, I looked at my feet. "There is–and was–nothing between us."

He knitted his eyebrows in confusion. This is just the beginning, Soobin. "W...What?"

"You heard me," I said sternly. "Nothing is going on between us. Get that in your head."

I'm using my voice against you. I'm going to use it until you've gotten the taste of regret. This is what the dead butterfly does to the flame that burnt her to a crisp, made her ugly and torn, and called her a moth. Seeing as he was taken aback, I nodded for him to leave. "You should go. I'm busy."

"What could you exactly be busy with?"

"Don't get angry," I'll put you in your place, Soobin. Don't test me. "You don't get the right. I'm busy with my project. Don't ask, just leave. Please."

That degree of desperation was almost as close as to the one in the script. It was nowhere near as desperate as the one that happened almost two years ago, but if he threatened me, I could make it that way. "Fine," He whispered. "Enjoy the bread–and work hard, Han Yewon."

He swung around, sparing me one last glance. "I'll see you around."

I didn't respond, but I watched him leave. Then, I stared at the chocolate-filled bread in my hands and spun around, heading back to the audition room. Beomgyu was on his phone, playing a game, but when I sat back down, he instantly turned it off. "You were gone for a long time. Parched?" I cracked a smile, chuckling soon after. Then, he beckoned to my hands. "Did you get that as a snack? You should've told me."

"No, someone was giving them out," I lied through my teeth, unable to cast my gaze at him–I knew he'd question my words if I did. "I didn't really want it, but I was wondering if you might. It's chocolate-filled."

Beomgyu grinned. "I love chocolate! I'll eat it," I handed it to him, watching as he unraveled it from its packaging, splitting it down the middle. As I was about to call in the next pair, Beomgyu stuck the smaller half in front of my face. "I know you said you didn't want it, but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try."

The aroma aroused my tastebuds. I love sweets more than anything. "Okay."

He flashed a proud smile and placed it in my palm. I watched him take a bite first. He chewed it bravely, and I swallowed anxiously. What if it poisons him? What if it is filled with some chemicals and blood oozes from his ears? What if it's shit, not chocolate? What if...

No. He swallowed it. I waited another five seconds. Nothing happened.

I stared at my half and took a bite. It tasted... good. Just like how I remember. "I'll go call in, uh..." He trailed off, reading his list. "Taehyun and Gyeowool."

I nodded, mouth full. Exciting. I was going to see my assumed pair act. The two entered giggling, being cute. I almost forced them to reenter without speaking to one another, but I had to remind myself that they were friends. "Hello, you two," Beomgyu spoke for both of us as I stuck the rest of my bread in my mouth, shoving my face into the script. "You both have the script, right?"

"Yes, we do."

"Alright, well, feel free to start whenever," Beomgyu smiled. "Good luck."

I peeked over the paper, watching as they exchanged a brief conversation and lifted their papers. All of a sudden, it was like a wave washed them anew–they became their roles almost identically. Moon Gyeowool had tears roaming in her eyes, bubbling at her waterline. Kang Taehyun was stoic, frowning as his eyebrows knitted together, looking down at his friend.

"Don't you understand!?" She screamed, hands becoming fists. Instead of doing a push, she slammed both of them against his chest, pounding on them. Her nails were dug into her palm, visibly trembling. I inhaled sharply and leaned forward. "You... you can't do this. You can't lie! You can't tell everyone we... we weren't something when we were!"

"Get off of me," He spat, grabbing both of her fists and shoving them down, knocking her body to the floor. She inhaled audibly, her throat sharp, and sobbing out, unable to look up at him. "It's not like I know what to say. Tell me the truth–" He paused, pointing down at her; Gyeowool lifted her head. It looked like she was desperate, begging–praying. "Do you think that by stopping me–like this–I won't leave you?"

The hesitation was unheard in his voice, the violence that was implied... it was all there. I could see it. I felt it beyond just my bones. I felt it in every vein, attacking my blood like a disease.

It was silent for a moment. Gyeowool stumbled forward on her knees, head falling with every inch, eventually reaching onto the fabric of his jeans. "...Please."

Taehyun continued to show no remorse. I saw myself in her. "Please. Please don't leave me."

And that was the end of the scene. I clutched my script tight as Taehyun helped Gyeowool back on her feet, Gyeowool awkwardly chuckling as she wiped away her fallen tears. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to spin the office chair around so I could get my moment of peace. I sensed Beomgyu watching–in fact, he was watching me the whole time.

"You both did great," Beomgyu laughed, hoping to conceal my fragility. I quickly wiped under my eyes to make sure I wasn't crying. I counted one tear, almost two if it went on any longer. "The acting, the performance–was very good. It's, of course, not set in stone that you'll get the role, so we'll contact you on Monday if you get the part. You both have flexible schedules, right?"

"Yes," They replied. I turned back around, looking at them. They both stared at me, then glanced back at Beomgyu, wondering if I'd say something.

"Do you have anything to say, Yewon?" Beomgyu pushed the conversation toward me, ready to save the day if I didn't. "Anything I missed?"

I shook my head. "Good job," I cleared my throat. I didn't know what else to say–we were the same age but not in the same grade. I couldn't crack a joke, nor did I want to. "We'll contact you soon."

"Thank you," They bowed, walking out of the room. With a short sound of the door closing, I exhaled heavily, Beomgyu rolling his chair over to me.

"Are you okay?" He questioned, visibly worried. "That was the most terrified yet intrigued I've seen you this whole day. Your mixture of emotions clearly isn't holding you together right now. How about we finish–"

"No. We need to give an equal opportunity to everyone. I can hold on," I smiled forcibly, nodding heavily. "Might as well get it done today. But, I know that I'd choose them."

"I thought so," Beomgyu nodded in agreement, copying my actions. "I'll give you a minute, okay? Compose yourself, and then we'll get the next pair in. There's only two more."

"Okay," I exhaled out, Beomgyu getting up to walk to the door. I stared at the script and let the words consume me.

Soobin, I find that mimicry is a blessing and a curse. For someone to blend in as a moth alongside another, they can save themselves. However, they can also take down their prey. In this case, with Gyeowool mimicking a moth blended into the scenery of our past, I find that she can help me take you down.

But, I know that in the process, I have doomed myself–and that with her blending in, I will question and regret everything that may happen, I will be eaten alive by the past, holding onto the thought of whether it'll be worth it or not. All I know now is that I don't care about the reparations until it's done–until the film is watched by your beautiful yet vile eyes.

With mimicry as a flame, I know that he'll work in your favor if you discover him and his role in all of this. You'll become convinced that I am still obsessed with you, continuing to excrete temptation as if it were one of the five senses for you–and I have a feeling that I will fall for it. He will be your greatest weapon, the carbon copy of you that can slash me down the middle and reveal the true me.

But, I know he will also be the death of you. I know when you see him, and it reminds you of what happened, you're going to cower. I pray for it. I beg for it. I am no psychic, but I know that you fear my potential. I will use Taehyun to my advantage–like a plot twist. I will turn the knife that you used to cut me up when I was 18 onto you.

And, instead of killing you instantly, I'll puncture your bowel. I'll stab you gently, making you think it's treatable by wrapping some gauze, but internal bleeding is a human's worst enemy. I'll make sure you die a slow death.

I don't have the bravery to murder your physical body, so take that part with a grain of salt. I do know, though, that I have the guts to wreck your image.

I will show my moth to your flame one last time–before I blow it out permanently.

And, when all is over, we'll see who gets to survive–the sun,

Or the butterfly in disguise.