MARCH 9, 2023.

"Hey, Yewon. You okay?" I stopped brushing my hair at the tone of her voice. I looked up from the mirror on my desk, and I could see all the hair that got caught on my brush. I faced her, wet ends soaking my sleeves. She frowned, tilting her head at my indifference. "You were in the shower for almost two hours, just letting it run. Although you don't talk to me, you really just seem... out of it. Did something happen last night?"

I bit my cheek. That long? I was too busy using the bar of soap to scrape and scratch all of his sinning off of me that I didn't realize how much time had passed. As the hot water poured down my back, I clawed at every spot, uncomfortable with a mental, lingering spot that the pressure of his hand left. It was an imprint, a mark; I desperately wanted to rid it from my body. I wasn't going to say anything to her about that–not with the image she built of him. But, shouldn't I warn her?

No, it's not my place.

But, I should protect her.

No. I shook my head, going back to brushing my already straightened ends. However, she grabbed my brush, holding it above my head. "Yewon," She spoke again, stopping me. "Did I miss something? You can trust me, you know."

I'm sorry. You aren't an exception to the way I treat people, and I don't think anybody will be. After dying one, I can't trust anybody again.

"It's okay," She added after realizing my hesitance, putting my brush on the desk. "I hope you can tell me the truth sooner or later. Just don't cause yourself so much harm, okay? I'm worried about you."

God, I felt guilty again. I was getting stepped on without purpose.

"Do you want to come to the film and journalism club tomorrow?" That piqued my interest. I nodded slowly, agreeing to her request. "Great. We can go after you come back from your math class!"

Sounds good. I nodded again as confirmation, staring at my hair-filled brush. Don't say it, Yewon. Don't do it. "Oh, by the way," There she went again, unable to stay silent. "You... know Choi Soobin. Right?"

I turned around quickly, seeing her already staring. My reaction must've scared her by the way she took a step back, hands fiddling with each other. Lowering my gaze, I nodded. "Hm. Mind if I pry a bit? All you have to do is shake your head, yes or no," So, slowly, I swallowed, waiting for what she had to say. As long as I didn't have to talk, I think I could keep most of our past a secret. Please, please, please, I hope you don't recognize me. Please.

"Are you guys something, you know... dating?"

I furiously shake my head.

"Oh, damn. Friends?"

Nothing close! Again, a no.

"Exes?"

Slowly, I nodded. "Oh shit. Did you guys end it really badly?" I nodded again. "So, when you left at freshman orientation, it was because he joined our group?"

Yes. "Shit, I'm sorry, Yewon. I should've taken the hint."

I shrugged her off, shaking my head as if it didn't bother me. Of course, other people shouldn't be responsible for another person's affair unless they caused it. "Then, maybe you shouldn't come to the film club after all. He's the one I was telling you about."

Damn it. It's almost like I really have no chance at escaping him. "Oh, the local magazine club too. And also the university spirit club, too... Ah, just how many clubs is that bastard in?"

He sure is an active member at Yonsei, hm? By the sound of it, she must be implying he's unforgettable, popular. "Oh, shit, you both share a class too!" We do? "Film class! Professor Park's class, right?"

Professor Park... I haven't met her yet. I'll meet her tomorrow afternoon. That's good. I'll sit at the back, and from my past experience, he has a tendency to sit at the front. He told me it "allows him to absorb all the knowledge quicker than anyone else." (Whatever that means.)

She must've sensed my distaste. "Don't worry about it, Yewon. I will do everything in my power to keep you two apart," I bowed my head to thank her, trying to hold a soft smile. She seemed to like that expression. "So, does that mean we can be friends? You know, Lim Yoona and Han Yewon... wow, I really like our names together!"

Yoona. Right. That was her name.

Yoona and Yewon in one sentence. Do our names really fit well together? Do we look compatible? I was just saying that I wasn't going to treat her differently, but she's already siding with me. "Don't think about it too much! You're worrying me!" Yoona exclaimed, pouting. "If you don't want to, it's–"

I interrupted her by moving my hands, denying it quickly. Soon, I nodded at the agreement that we can be friends–I mean, we were already roommates. What more? Yoona was ecstatic, clapping her hands together. "Great! I hope you can rely on me in great times of need. The next step is for you to say my name out loud, but that can wait until you're more comfortable."

Oh, she really is crazy.

Just like me, though. Maybe that forum survey to pick your roommate led me to the right one.

"And I was telling Professor Kim that, I mean, just why would I write a ten page paper on the human brain when I could grab it online?" I furrowed my eyebrows, her words lesser than nonsense. Even she sensed her stupidity, a finger over her lips. "Oh, maybe I am in the wrong."

We passed by the film club, Yoona taking a quick look. "Oh, wait, I need to drop these magazines off," I hesitated, headphones ready to place themselves over my ears. She looked into the window, scanning the area like a spy–before turning back to me. "It's safe. He's not here. Do you still want to wait outside?"

I mean, it wouldn't hurt to look. Thinking about this university, I only made beelines straight to each class. People would consider me a ghost, where I just fade after the class ends, and since it's the beginning of a new year, a professor already forgot who I was. I'm only familiar with the main subject building and then my major building, which is film. The reason I chose it was that where I lack feelings, my works seem to have them.

"Hey, guys!" I closed the door after I entered, looking around the not-so-empty room: Maps and magazines on the wall, drawings filled with scribbles, and some materials that make paper into what I presumed was Yonsei's newspapers. "This is Han Yewon, my roommate. She's also a film student."

They waved at me, busy. I liked that their eyes were on their screens rather than me. Yewon opened her backpack, taking out magazines. As I walked up to the table holding my things, I looked at the magazines sprawled all over the table. "Could you help me in the meeting room, Yoona?" One called out to her, making her look over at me. I nodded and she quickly ran over, closing the door behind her. Now, I was left alone.

I put my headphones on and read through a page, minding my own business.

But, my luck ran out and became instant karma. Someone chuckled, black hair peeking out the corner of my eye. "It's you, Yewon," I lifted my hand and blinked a few times, pretending as if he didn't exist. I attempted to turn the volume up by reaching into my pocket, but two hands grab it and place it on the table. "Yewon."

Don't say a word, fucker.

Black hair. It slid right over his eyelids, hiding judgmental brows but not his disappointed frown. "I get it. You're not speaking to me because of what I said two years ago. Right?" What you said? You never said shit to me. Rather, it was your actions, and that itself is enough of an explanation. Soobin began to chuckle again, sultry laced in his voice, and it made me want to go deaf. "Come on. I've moved on, haven't you? We loved each other, and you're the one who broke up with me first. Can't we forgive, forget... reconcile?"

We aren't friends, let alone acquaintances. I swallowed my words, unable to make eye contact. When I assume he's had enough, his hands lie on my shoulders, sparking a reaction of me roughly shoving them off. I was going to shower for longer when I got home. I felt his touch writhing on my jacket.

"Look at me."

He began to coax me into a trance I've never experienced before. It was his plea for obedience, one that I have yet to learn how to resist. So, slowly, my eyes dragged up, laying upon his pastel blue cardigan, a white collar, and his punchable face. His dimples became craters from his grin, a nod indicating joy. "Right. That's it. Do you really... have nothing to say to me?"

Eyebrows raised for sympathy, Soobin's lips pressed together. I was sweating, I knew it. It was only him and I in this room, and his figure blocked the exit. I prayed for Yoona to come back quickly, for anybody, even if it meant making me look like a fool. The more I heard his silent calls for my name, repeating it like some sort of incantation, the more my heart hammered against my chest. No matter how colorful he perceived himself to be, I will stay colorblind–because I had no desire to make the same mistake twice.

"Hello, is this the journalism club–?" Someone interrupted and the meeting door opened–but oh, rather instantly did Soobin take steps away from me. Thankfully it didn't have to be me who pretended we were strangers. As he gathered his smile, shining it quick, I found myself hating his mere appearance again. You're still the same, Soobin. You have yet to change. A brunette with a wolf cut furrowed his eyebrows, a soft frown on his face. He looked between him and I, then to Yoona who was shocked at Soobin's arrival. He held a yellow flier, beginning to fold it out of embarrassment. "Sorry... was I interrupting something?"

"No, not at all. Come in," Soobin smiled, making the newcomer nod slowly. The brunette stared at me for a reaction, but I rejected any look in response. I snatched my headphones off the table as Yoona made a barrier between Soobin and I with her body, turning to face me. "Yewon–"

"Yewon," The two synchronized, Yoona shocked at his warning-filled tone. I too was afraid of what could happen. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" I didn't look.

As I'm side-stepping around the brunette, I heard his voice once more.

"Hopefully, you'll say something."

And I continued out, realizing how much of a dangerous place the film room would become for me.

I may not be book smart, but I was going to find every way to avoid another chance meeting with him. The more he spoke, the more the fake flame fueled itself–I couldn't pretend much longer that his presence was nothing to me. If I'm being honest, it was like I placed my hand into a magical lake. It was said to grant me a beautiful eternity, but if I did something wrong, it would force me into chaos. Even after following all the correct steps, and pleading eternity, I was granted chaos,

all because a God had claimed I did one step wrong.

I escaped with Yoona, panic settling in my throat. "Yewon, Yewon! Breathe," She patted my back, glaring at the door that went unopened. "It's okay, let's head back to the dorm."

"Oh, Yewon! Yoona!" We heard, causing us to jump. The girl widened her eyes, looking between us. "Woah, sorry. I just wanted to tell you, Yewon, we have no class today. Professor Park wanted me to let you know."

I was still catching my breath, so as I gasped for air, I nodded, bowing just enough to thank her. "However, she said in her email that she needed you to do something for her, so she'd email you personally. Maybe you should check."

That wasn't flying through my brain. I had to process it five times before I bowed again, letting her depart. Yoona continued to hold my shoulders over his hands, soothing me before I had wanted to rip my skin off once more.

Yoona and I don't make it to the dorms, instead, we sit down at a bench outside of the main building. "I'll be here. You take your time," Yoona mentioned, nodding slowly. I swallowed, nodding as well. Now that we're far from the club building, I checked my phone.

What would Professor Park want from me, anyway? There are over fifty students in her class. Unless she's going to ridicule me, I don't see the point. I'm just someone who sits at the back of her class.

I read it–more like skimmed it–and she wants me to do a side project. She talked about seeing my film entry for her class and really liked it–which, I guess is good–and plans on pairing me up with another freshman so I wouldn't be working alone–which is the bad part.

In the end, she added, "And you can't deny the offer. Think of it as extra credit."

I'm pretty sure that's a threat.

Anyway, I turned off my phone, resting my head against the wall.

"Hopefully, you'll say something back to me."

That made my skin crawl. He knew we broke up for the same reason I will never speak. If I were to even let out a hum, I feared someone would know, and all my hiding and work would be for nothing. I was not going to give in, even just an inch.

I was going to continue planting my feet into the soil–

no matter how far down I dig.