AUGUST 9, 2023.

The chaos theory.

It's a subsidiary of science that collides with mathematics. It's a theory that covers the unpredictable, the random, and the uncommon. It's considered determinism, a word that means everything is determined by causes external to the soul and will–and humans, specifically, shouldn't be held morally responsible for their actions.

But chaos theory, in simplest terms, is when the certain present can define your certain future, but what is implied in the present, will not define the future, implied or not.

And if that still didn't help you understand, it's when small differences are able to create bigger differences when you look at the bigger scheme of things. Like the butterfly effect–a butterfly will flap its wings, and it may cause a landslide in a different part of the world. That is chaos–that is the unknown.

And many fear the unknown, just like me.

Perhaps what I'm saying is that I should've remembered the patterns, almost as if I was a scientist. When there is something that repeats an awful amount of times, but it alters ever so slightly that you miss the dot, that doesn't mean the certainty lowers–it just means they will find other ways to make it work.

And that is what I should've figured leading up to the release of the video–that as Soobin feigned silence, as he fought like he used to, and as he avoided every mention of the past, he was going to be the one to bring it back up. I should've known that he wouldn't re-release that exact video. He had to find a way, a response, to my unpredictability that he studied, able to one-up me because he did so.

In the greatest war the mind has ever seen, I fell to my knees. I surrendered with my weapon held high, and that's where the scene stopped. Whether or not Soobin kills me, or I kill myself, is undetermined, just like turbulence or every other element that falls under the chaos theory. I just know that whatever happens, will happen by certainty–because that's where we are right now.

We are living in certainty–where this video will determine my, and his, certain future, whatever the fuck it could be.

It was ten in the morning. I stared at my laptop as the video remained paused, the topic slowly rising to the top of the Yonsei forum. It was number two right now, right behind a study topic that would surely switch places with the hottest gossip in the district. It had over 250,000 views. There were over 2,000 comments, and a shit ton of reposts.

People connected it to the video that took storm on social media in 2021. They know my identity now. It was different when all they could recognize was my voice.

Now, I had to stop using my voice–and had to rip my face to shreds. Plastic surgery wouldn't cut it. I needed to slash myself from the inside out, becoming an imposter if that's what it would take to return to normalcy.

My phone was thrown halfway across the room, sitting in a corner. It buzzed, rang, and vibrated every few seconds. I had overlapping calls and text messages. The moment I got in this little motel room, I was already swarmed. I ran so far away from Yonsei that my legs gave out the moment I got in here. I cried on the carpet and laid on the floor, mustering enough courage a few minutes ago to lay at the edge of the bed, my laptop lying on a pillow like it was a god given item.

I wondered if Mom called me. Wait, I shouldn't call her that anymore. She told me that I was a mockery of a daughter and that the money is all I should take with me.

I wondered if my sister called me. I can't call her that anymore, too, can I? She said that she'd never consider me her sibling, dead or alive. She wouldn't come to my funeral, my birthdays, or any events, even if they pulled her to the entrance.

Dad–no, don't call him that–wouldn't call. He swore that he'd never do so the moment I left for college, no matter what. He gave me the money and yelled for me to never turn back, so I didn't.

I'm sure the first two are calling me. I knew deep down if the video ever resurfaced, they'd come looking for me and have me sign NDAs related to being their family members. Fuck, that almost made me laugh. That idea... sure is laughable.

But, I haven't gone to school. I haven't gone anywhere, and haven't slept. I'm sure I look like a ghost. I'm sure I don't even look human, because rewatching that video, I don't feel human. I am reminded of the mistakes that occurred, gaslit into believing I am the perpetrator, but even my heart knows that's wrong. I have little faith that I could change the current.

Soobin is now on high ground, and he refuses to let me take a step near it. It's like a barrage of cannonballs, shot my way. I am strangled by the roots of the ground, holding me hostage at the sight of him and that's happened between us.

I can't be seen anywhere. I can't go to the festival. I can't go to Yonsei.

I straightened my posture. My body ached in every joint possible. I sat at the edge of the bed before standing on my own two feet, soon falling to the floor.

Fuck. I can't even walk. It's not the end–no, it is the end of the world. What am I thinking?

I crawled toward my phone. Before my arms could think of giving out, I grabbed it. I saw all the notifications, almost laughed at a few–but realized I had no capability of even unhinging my jaw.

Over one hundred calls from Beomgyu. His last text message was 'Please call me.'

Thirty calls from Gyeowool. Her only text was, 'What is this?'

Twenty-one calls from Taehyun. His only text was, 'Yewon, what the fuck is this????'

Ten calls from Yeonjun. His only text was, 'I'm sorry.'

Fifty-two from Yoona. Her last text was 'Dude, what the fuck is going on right now?'

One call from my M– from my caretaker. No text.

Two calls from my s– my sibling. No text.

Nothing from my Dad, as I expected.

None from Soobin–well, he was blocked, but he had my social media. I thought he'd try to be lame. Whoever had my social media was messaging me, asking me about the video or threatening me. I sighed hard, letting all the air that was capable of leaving my lungs dissipate into the rest of the atmosphere.

Ooh. I got an email from Professor Park. It was short, asking me to email her back as soon as possible. Now that it's reached her, I'm sure that she'd hate me like everyone else has learned to. The video that was taken out of context once in my life, has now done it again. I'm sure the consequences will be worst this time.

Hell, should I just drop out?

Wait, why am I not panicking? Fuck. I'm going to lose everything I've worked for because of him. Should I actually just die? No, God didn't give me that purpose. He rebirthed me for the sole purpose of ripping him to shreds, so why is Soobin winning?

I couldn't help but face the facts: I was so fucked.

I refreshed my laptop one last time. It skyrocketed to half a million views. I would never escape this shit.

I was bound to fall back into the night. I was destined to only float in moonlight, where nobody could see me. I was better off seemingly dead than I was to live among the rest of the world, pretending that nothing ever happened between us and everything Soobin posted was just a figment of the mind–that it was all just acting.

I slammed it closed and let my body fall to pieces.

Before I knew it, my eyes shut for good–well, not in death as I wished, but for slumber.

I slipped the face mask higher on my face and looked at the farmer's market. I picked up a succulent, admiring its beauty. I looked at the soil and admired the dirty brown, placing it back down. I saw a woman eyeing me, hopefully because I was doing too much investigating and not because she saw the video. After all, it's only been a few hours since the video was released, and the last thing I want is for my groceries to get delivered if I can't go out in a mask.

I walked away and began to look up. The sun has already set. I was in my natural habitat–the night time. The stars blinked, possibly dying or amid a collision with another star. I smiled and stood there, even as people passed me. I wonder if it would be weird to reach for one.

But, I lowered my head and walked down the path. I saw a lady selling fruits–mangos, specifically, and was captured by it. "Hello," She smiled, and I bowed softly. "Are you interested in buying some fruits? If you buy more than two, I can give you a discount."

I nodded, pointing to the mangos. The old lady got up, and she slumbered over, holding the edge of the barrier. So, I quickly walked over and grabbed her hand, making her chuckle. "Thank you so much. Sorry, I'm getting frail," She commented, but I shook my head. "How about you, dear? You look so young, and I'm sure you're beautiful."

Beautiful.

I shook my head, making her frown. "Dear, the beauty within conforms to all beauty outside. Have faith in yourself," She said as she looked at the mangos I reached for. "You must be going through a hard time, huh? You have eyebags like you haven't gotten any sleep. Are you a student?"

She picked up a few mangos, so I nodded in response. She grabbed a few other fruits, and I knew I'd probably have to tell her that I don't want the other ones. But, I helped her back to her seat and she placed them in a plastic bag, one at a time. "Well, darling, whatever you're going through, I hope you find light," She said. "People don't believe in light sometimes, so they perish where they are left. I hope that even if it's dark, you will walk straight ahead."

She tied the plastic bag up. "It may not be the right path at first. But, if you follow your gut, you can roam in the dark without fear. Just look for light."

And as I stared at her, realizing she was waiting for me to pay, I reached for my wallet. "No, it's free," Oh my god. I was about to burst into tears. My eyes were already glassy at her words. I bowed softly and took the bag, still leaving her all the money I had. "Thank you, dear. Stay strong."

I'll try.

I turned back around and walked a few steps forward, reentering the main hall of the farmer's market. Before I could turn toward more plants, someone stopped me by holding onto the strap of my tote bag. I heard them pant, like they've been running.

So, I slowly turned around, my eyes taking in the sight of brown hair, a long mullet. I widened my eyes as he straightened his posture, his hand returning to his side. "I know you've been mistreated," He whispered, inhaling sharply one last time. "And I wanted to say, Yewon, I'm on your side."

And that was enough to break the dam. A tear slipped out of my eye, and I dug my head toward my chest before I began sobbing.

For the first time, Beomgyu didn't hesitate to touch me. He took off my mask to see my face and embraced me tight, letting his shirt soak up the waterfall.

He was on my side.