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The lecture today is on memoirs. Professor Aragon brought in one of his colleagues who had written one herself to talk about the experience and intricacies of a nonfiction memoir. Yunjin wonders how just anyone could pick up a pen and write a memoir, let alone get it published. What if your life story is boring? Too much for a single book to handle? How do you get publishers or the audience to care about your work?
A good story. Everyone loves a good story. Tragedy, perseverance, heartbreak, people latch onto those emotions because it’s a universal experience with no universal way to feel said experience. People like things they can see themselves in or see themselves empathizing with the speaker’s plight.
It’s just like songwriting, isn’t it?
But there’s more to a good song than relatable lyrics. Yunjin has learned the hard way. The melody, the tone, the instrumentals—so many variables. A lot of it relies on luck and prediction. But if she has one big selling point like conveying heartbreak through masterfully crafted lyrics, why shouldn’t she bet on a single racing horse?
So, maybe that’s why this lecture is pissing her off. How this woman speaks with such authority while her classmates debate the ethics of writing about someone who has hurt you or including people in your memoir who may not want their lives recorded on paper. There are no ethics in entertainment.
“Why should it matter?” Yunjin speaks up finally. “Not playing the devil’s advocate here, well, maybe I am, but…” Her tongue clicks as the attention of her classmates and professors turns her way with bated breath. “Why should I care how the person who hurts me feels about me writing about them? They’ve already hurt me enough.”
“Well… Jennifer, isn’t it?” Her professor’s colleague, Professor Lewis, adjusts her thick-rimmed glasses as she glances at Yunjin’s English name on her name card. “There are legal issues you could potentially come across. Suing someone for libel or defamation in their memoir has happened before, but it’s also common courtesy to ask permission from people. The worst they could say is no, and you should respect that.”
Yunjin suppresses an eye roll. “But if they know what they’ve done, why would they ever consent to their nefarious actions being exposed for the world to see? Nobody wants to look bad. Nobody ever wants to take responsibility for what they’ve done.” She feels her palms clam up as her peers' gazes are almost judgmental. Forcing smiles on their attentive faces to hide the disgust because—oh my god, how dare Jennifer Huh say something controversial? “No whistleblower asked Trump permission when they wrote the reports about the quid pro quo he was doing with Ukraine.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“Yikes.”
Professor Lewis lets out a short laugh. “Jennifer, I don’t think your example applies here. Whistleblowing and memoirs are two very different things.”
“My point is, the memoir you’re trying to write that includes someone who has harmed you cannot hurt them more than they’ve hurt you,” Yunjin finishes through gritted teeth. “I owe them nothing if I want to tell my story.”
Professor Aragon clears his throat, capturing the class’s attention before anyone can try and argue, and Yunjin can see Mark is almost ready to leap out of his seat to challenge her. Her professor rarely encouraged debate in this class. It’s creative writing, after all. There are no wrong answers.
“I think that’s enough for today's class,” he says coolly. “Thank you, Professor Lewis, for joining us. Next week we will discuss eco-fiction with another guest from the Environmental Studies department. Remember to turn in your reflections before Monday!”
Yunjin gathers her things in a hurry, not eager to overstay her welcome when she has clearly ruffled her feathers. It’s whatever. She has her mind set, and she can’t change it.
She has the right to express her feelings. She has the right to share the impact others have had on her.
She is free from her influence and restraints.
Nobody can take that away from her again.
Yunjin leaves the classroom and halts when she feels long fake nails dig into her shoulder. She turns around, meeting the eyes of the only friend she has in her class, Somi.
“Jesus, who hurt you, Yunjin? Whose life do you want to ruin with your memoir version of a Burn Book?”
“Not a memoir.” Yunjin rolls her eyes with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dozens of unreleased songs and half-written ballads.”
They agree to meet at a coffee shop. It’s simple and easy—little room to go wrong. No expectations to pay for everything. And if there are, at least it won’t be crazy expensive for a broke college student.
Yunjin drums her fingers on the table and glances at her phone, pulling up her Hinge date’s profile. Her name is Kim Chaewon. She’s a year older than Yunjin and graduated from university the year before. Same alma mater and ethnicity. They already have a few things in common. Selfishly, what Yunjin likes most about Chaewon is that she’s pretty. Elegant would be a better word to describe her.
She keeps her hair short—the colors switch between blonde and black based on the pictures she has sent Yunjin. She has an aura of sophistication around her. She texts with perfect grammar and capitalization. Sometimes Yunjin thinks she can be dry, but she chalks it up to Chaewon being older and having much more important things to do than talking to a Hinge match all the time.
Yunjin doesn’t give up, though, and it works out. When she asks Chaewon out for coffee, she says yes.
So, yeah, so what if she has high hopes? So what if there are angels singing and melodic harps playing a beautiful song in her head every time she thinks about her? She’s always been a bit of a hopeless romantic.
(Although, she wishes she had more muse for love songs.)
A woman in a black bob enters the coffee shop; the bell rings above her. Yunjin immediately stands up and makes eye contact with her.
It’s her.
She’s short. (She’s beautiful.)
“Hi, sorry, I’m late,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I struggled to find parking around here.”
Yunjin chuckles. “Yeah, um, that’s why I take the subway.”
“The subway?” Chaewon raises an eyebrow. “I try to avoid public transportation when I can.”
Oh, so she must be rich or hate the environment.
“Here, let me…” Yunjin pulls out the chair opposite of her and lets Chaewon sit down before pushing her in. She looks up, tossing some of her orange hair back, making eye contact with her reflection in one of the fancy oval mirrors the shop has up for decoration. Is her face red? Is she blushing, or is it just hot this sunny day?
“Thank you.” Chaewon smiles brightly.
Yunjin returns to her seat and clears her throat. “So, uh, what do you want to drink? I can order—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay. I am the elder of us, no?”
Her shoulders slump, and her head bows. “Yeah. You are.”
Chaewon coos at her like she’s some little kid, and Yunjin can’t help but feel like she is under this pretty girl’s dominating gaze. She folds her hands together on the table. Yunjin can’t help but notice that her white blouse really compliments her figure.
She doesn’t know if she believes in love at first sight, but Chaewon is the type of girl you write songs about.
“So, Yunjin, what do you do?”
“I’m a senior in college now, but—”
“What do you want to do?” Chaewon cuts her off, curiosity and something else behind her gaze.
“I, uh, I’m a singer-songwriter.”
Chaewon’s posture stiffens. “Singer…? How come I haven’t heard of you?” She lets out a breathy laugh. “I feel like I would remember such a pretty face being a starlet.”
“I’m not… I haven’t put anything really out there yet.”
“Yet,” she echoes.
“So, it’s all just a dream for now.”
Chaewon nods, shoulders relaxing a bit as her expression changes into something softer… more welcoming. “Dreams are nice,” she says loftily, "but you have all the time in the world to figure out what you want to do.”
Yunjin smiles and takes what she says as encouragement. She wonders—she hopes—Chaewon could help her see her dreams become reality. That’s all she’s ever wanted, a partner who supports her. And she already sees herself putting Chaewon on a pedestal, hanging on to each syllable of the words that leave her lips like it’s gospel. Chaewon and her could be great; they could be perfect.
Five minutes were enough to make up her mind; she wants it so fucking bad.
She commits to it, leaning forward and teeth grazing against her lower lip as she meets Chaewon’s gaze intently. “Why don’t you tell me more about you, though?”
And Chaewon blooms for her like an early spring flower.
Yunjin throws her bag on the floor and switches on the lights. There’s a rank smell in her apartment; her nose crinkles with disgust. She forgot to take the trash out this morning. She shakes her head and drapes her coat over her chair. The little things slip her mind when she doesn’t have anyone there to remind her, or any incentive to make an effort to clean for anyone but herself.
It’s fine, really. She hasn’t had company in a while.
She heads into the kitchenette and pulls out her phone. Her battery is at 30% with low power mode. A shame. She swears she charged it this morning.
Immediately, she opens DoorDash and peruses for any sweet deals she can snag, or at the very minimum, get free delivery. Nothing inspires her. Panda Express, Applebee’s, Five Guys—all options she would take in a heartbeat any other day. Maybe she should just stick with cheese sandwiches and wait until her paycheck comes in. Not like she has a lot in savings anyway.
She scratches her chin and sighs. Most days she doesn’t return home in a sour mood. Most days she has a sliver of hope that tomorrow will always be kinder. She can’t put her finger on why there’s a void inside her today. It’s stupid of her to still be pissed off from class.
Yunjin’s gaze darts to the empty three-legged chair across from her, and her heart sinks a little bit.
The sinking stops when her phone chimes. She looks down. It’s a follow request from someone named zuhazana on Instagram on an account she doesn’t use anymore.
Huh?
Her shoulders tense as she opens Instagram. This account, @jenaissante, hasn’t been touched in months. Kept private at someone else’s request. It’s an archive now. She winces as she looks at her feed. Snippets of her playing the guitar and short cover recordings with aesthetic backgrounds in her reels. The account's followers sit at a comfortable 10K despite its negligence. It feels like a lifetime ago. No, the person she sees strumming the guitar is practically a stranger.
Her stomach lurches.
How did this person find her?
Is it a bot?
Yeah. Must be.
Morbid curiosity or sheer boredom guides her finger to accept the follow request, knowing damn well this random stranger on the internet will be met with remnants of what could have been.
Then, she immediately gets a notification for a message.
zuhazana: OMG is this jenn?????
zuhazana: IS IT THE REAL JENN????
Yunjin pauses. Her phone almost slips out of her grip as she holds her breath. Is this a sick prank?
jenaissante: yes?
zuhazana: i can’t believe i found you!!!! i discovered your music on soundcloud.
Yunjin narrows her eyes. She doesn’t have a SoundCloud account. (Not anymore.)
zuhazana: i’ve been looking for you for weeks. the real you. because you don’t have any official accounts. only assholes who reuploaded your stuff and pretending to be you. >:( i love your songs so much.
zuhazana: ….i am realizing now that i sound like a creep x___x
She holds in a laugh.
jenaissante: it’s okay lol
jenaissante: i didn’t know i still had fans
zuhazana: of course you do! you’re really talented :)
Yunjin drops her phone on the table. She should stop. She should really stop.
zuhazana: i just wanna say thank you for changing my life
zuhazana: your lyrics are real and raw idk if you’ll ever release stuff again
zuhazana: and that’s okay but i really wanted to make sure you knew
zuhazana: that people like me are rooting for you :)
A heavy exhale leaves her lips. The rational thing would be to thank her, block, and move on. But every artist has a bit of an ego. No performer isn’t at least a little obsessed with being liked. And one person—just one person—is enough to reignite something in Yunjin that hasn’t seen the light of day in a long time.
jenaissante: thank you <3
jenaissante: what’s your name btw?
zuhazana: kazuha! i go to nyu too it’s how i found you bc our class insta account follows you
Yunjin raises an eyebrow.
zuhazana: and now i sound creepy again. great. -_- i’m sorry!!!!
jenaissante: it’s okay!!! seriously!!! it’s not like i don’t want people knowing about this account lol
jenaissante: it’s just… i have it private bc i do not want to be perceived anymore. like my music lmao
zuhazana: i may have missed this but why can’t i find your music anywhere but reuploads????
Yunjin decides to press Kazuha’s profile picture just as she sends that message. (It’s not like she was going to answer her questions anyway.) Kazuha seemed sweet, but Yunjin… Well, she wasn’t ready to open that can of worms to a stranger, even if they are her fan. Kazuha’s profile picture is a field of flowers. Prairie flowers, maybe? She must like nature, or she’s one of those people who likes to make their feed follow a certain theme.
She was wrong.
She was so wrong.
When she sees Kazuha’s feed, it’s like a train hits her straight in the chest. Kazuha doesn’t have a single picture of her by herself. She’s always posing with the same woman.
The same woman who once held Yunjin’s heart, mind, body, and soul close to her chest. She could never forget that face no matter how hard she tried to wipe her memories.
Chaewon.
Chaewon has moved on.
Chaewon, who never wanted to be featured in any of her social media posts, is attached to Kazuha’s hip like a moth to a flame. Smiling, laughing, looking at the taller girl with adoration like Kazuha held the stars in the sky. Tagged in her posts, commenting on everything Kazuha says with heart emojis and “I love yous.” Everything Yunjin wanted from Chaewon and more is right in front of her, but she gave it to another woman.
She hasn’t seen Chaewon in months thanks to blocked numbers and accounts, severing every connection and tie Yunjin could use to get to her. And she’s better than ever. Glowing. With her short blonde hair and what was once a rare toothy smile on full display.
It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.
She seethes, breathing picking up as her phone falls onto the tiled kitchen floor. The bottom of the screen cracks like the last defense holding her bleeding heart together.
Her shaking hands thread through her hair.
She feels. She remembers.
Her foot taps at a tempo faster than her racing heartbeat. The long hand on the clock ticks past 12. Another hour has passed. Yunjin doesn’t know how long she has been waiting since she got home from classes. Hours? Days? Fuck, it certainly feels like days.
What she saw earlier today plays through her head on repeat. A looping VHS tape that does not need to be rewound. This is what hell looks like:
Chaewon with an arm around a tall brunette. Smiles and laughs as she touches her shoulder with innocence, but the desire pooling in her eyes is far from it. In public. In full view of campus in the middle of the quad. So unabashedly unashamed that Aeri has to pull her aside and ask with dead seriousness, “Yunjin-ah, isn’t that your girlfriend?”
Yes. Yes, it is.
Is it a dream? Is it a mirage? Chaewon will try to convince her otherwise when she comes home late to Yunjin’s apartment. But this time—this time—Yunjin won’t believe her. It’s happened too many times for it to be a coincidence. For it to be friendly. Does Chaewon think she’s stupid? Is she stupid for choosing to let it go and turn away?
Yunjin holds her breath when she hears keys jingle in the lock. Her posture straightens. She feels like a dad about to confront a daughter coming back from breaking curfew. She wishes it was that scenario. (At least a daughter is less likely to push Yunjin into a corner and make it seem like she’s the problem.)
She closes her eyes and clenches her fists. No matter what, she has to stand her ground. She has to. She has let Chaewon trample on her kindness and trust for too long.
Slowly, Chaewon pushes the creaky apartment door open.
Yunjin’s breath hitches.
Her girlfriend’s mascara is smudged. Her pink lipstick is blotched carelessly like someone tried to cover up a smudge but failed miserably. (Like doing makeup touch-ups in a seedy club bathroom.) Her short black dress is disheveled. She’s barefoot and holding her broken heels loosely in one of her hands. She sighs exhaustedly and throws her little Louis Vuitton bag on the floor.
Despite her appearance, Yunjin can’t deny that Chaewon still looks hot. (She’d look hot wearing a trash bag, honestly.) But she can’t let that distract her, and her brief ogling of her girlfriend ends when she thinks about what or who could’ve left her in this state.
“Fun night?” Yunjin pushes her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose.
Chaewon grunts. “Left more to be desired.” Her tone falters with disappointment.
“And that’s why you’re home late?”
“I got held up at work,” Chaewon cuts her off with the same excuse she uses every time.
Yunjin narrows her eyes. She works in advertising, but there’s no way her job leaves her looking like she just went to a frat party.
So, Yunjin decides to approach the topic gently. “Unnie, it’s Friday night. We were supposed to have a home-cooked dinner and watch a movie together.”
“And I said I got held up at work,” she snaps.
Yunjin flinches. “This is the third week this has happened…”
Chaewon exhales through her nose. “What am I supposed to say, Yunjin-ah? Next time I’ll disobey my boss?”
“Well, no— That’s not what I—”
“You’ll understand once you get a job. A real job.”
She looks down at her lap and chews on her lower lip.
Chaewon shuffles around the apartment and eventually sits in the three-legged chair across from Yunjin. Yunjin is terrified of looking into her eyes. One long moment of eye contact could send everything unraveling.
“I saw you on campus today,” she says. “Who was that brunette you were with?”
Her breath hitches. “You… saw me on campus?”
“Can you just… answer the question?” Yunjin swallows and forces herself to look at Chaewon pleadingly.
Chaewon grits her teeth and crosses her arms. “I was just helping the communications department for an alum and student event. Nothing major.”
She sucks her breath in. “Unnie, unless there’s been multiple of these events many days in a row—” She shakes her head and raises her voice. “You’ve been with a girl. Who is this girl, Chaewon?”
So much for approaching this gently.
Chaewon guffaws.
“Seriously, where were you tonight? Where have you been?”
“Yunjin-ah, don’t raise your voice—”
“Why can’t you answer this?” Yunjin’s breath hitches. Tears begin to prick at her widened eyes. “I’m not blind. I’m not stupid. You can’t just walk in here looking like you just fucked someone and expect me to believe you.”
Chaewon stands up and slams her hands on the table. “Fuck someone? Are you accusing me of cheating on you?”
“Who is that girl?” Yunjin tries again.
“No, I don’t have to tell you anything. My personal life is my business just like your personal life is yours.”
What a load of— Yunjin holds her tongue as Chaewon continues, “She’s just someone I’ve gotten close to lately. It’s not that big of a deal. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” she repeats, trying to figure out if she wants to laugh or cry. This is worse than Chaewon trying to tell her that this girl is her friend. But no, by leaving things open for interpretation, Chaewon just spit in her mouth and kicked her in the face.
“Unnie… What did I fuck up so bad that want to spend more time with her than me?” Yunjin muses aloud. She swallows the lump in her throat, unable to fight her tears any longer. “Was it something I did? I always try to be good for you. Everything I’ve done… it’s been for you.” She inhales sharply.
Chaewon turns away and bites her quivering lip.
“You know how many sacrifices I’ve made because you asked me to,” she says in a single breath like she’s just now acknowledging how much she’s given… and how much Chaewon has taken. “I did it all because I love you, and I wanted us to work. You know I would move mountains for you. I gave up my dreams for you. You know that!”
Now, she’s standing too. Hands shaking with unshackled fury as they yearn to slam themselves into a hard surface and shatter her knuckles. “And yet, it’s not enough, is it? I’ve never been enough. And that means…” Her hand covers her mouth, and she sobs. Hot tears roll down her flushed cheeks as she tries to compose herself—to comprehend what she had just done and what she had just lost… And for what?
“No, no, jagi-ya,” Chaewon coos. Her arms slip around Yunjin’s tall frame, squeezing her tight. Whenever the shorter girl embraces her, it always looks and feels like she’s being clung to for dear life. “You’ve got it wrong. I’m the one who hasn’t… I can’t…” She sniffles, pressing her face against Yunjin’s shoulder. “I can’t be what you want.”
Yunjin freezes. “You— You don’t need to change— I love you. Not the version you think you need to be for me—” She chokes on her sobs. “Unnie, what do you mean?”
“I… I want to end things, Yunjin. I’ve been holding off thinking things could change, but there’s no use.” Chaewon pulls away and sniffles. “I can’t be good for you. I have to… We have to stop pretending we work.”
“What the fuck are you—” Yunjin sputters. “You’re the one who’s been pulling away! You’re the one who’s giving up now! Chaewon, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Chaewon steps back.
Yunjin is more confused than angry. Chaewon isn’t making any sense. To voice these feelings now and then saying she’s giving up. Without giving them a chance. Without giving her a clear reason. She feels like she’s dancing around the truth.
And this girl… This girl has everything to do with it.
The next part is a haze, a screaming match erupts between them like their arguments always become. Yunjin keeps circling back to the brunette; Chaewon keeps insisting that Yunjin needs someone different and that they have caused each other too much damage. But there are no apologies, no acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Only hints and half-truths of what really ended them.
So, maybe that’s why Yunjin kept pushing and pushing until Chaewon left her apartment in tears and called her overwhelming and intense—a bomb with a short fuse—damaging everyone and everything around her. Chaewon can’t be the one for her because her thinly-veiled emotional affair made her realize that she didn’t want Yunjin anymore. But she won’t give her the relief of admitting it, leaving Yunjin sobbing and wailing, rocking back and forth on the floor because of everything she did for Chaewon. Every part of her she changed, it was all for nothing.
(The worst part of remembering all of this in the room where it happened?
She was just starting to learn how to exist without her.)
“Can I see an ID?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Yunjin rummages through her hoodie pockets and pulls out her wallet. She’s well aware she looks like shit. The hood barely covers the bags under her eyes, swollen from tears she shed merely minutes before. She tries to force a smile as she makes eye contact with the convenience store worker. A glance down at his name tag. Tim. Pimple-faced, clearly-wishes-he-was-home Tim.
She hands him her ID card and exhales.
He holds it up to the light and nods as he hands it back to her. He rings up her items on the register and suppresses a yawn. “Your total is $85.11.”
Yunjin wolf-whistles. She bought two bottles of vodka, Jack Daniels, and a margarita mix. She didn’t expect it to be that much, but she has needs. Numbing the pain is her number one priority. She doesn’t think twice as she puts her debit card into the machine.
“So much for saving for my next paycheck,” she chuckles under her breath.
“Rough night?” he asks, yet he seems far from interested.
Luckily, Yunjin doesn’t feel like disclosing her tragedies to the guy on the closing shift at a convenience store. “You could say that.”
Before she types her PIN, she stops, eyebrows furrowing as a sudden dangerous thought crosses her mind. “Do you guys have phones?”
“Like… a payphone?”
“No, I was thinking more like, uh, flip phones. Cheap ones you use in case of an emergency.”
Tim blinks. Yunjin recoils, ready to backtrack and get the hell out of here.
“Yeah. We have some. Gonna have to pay extra for the SIM card though.”
Yunjin shrugs. “That’s fine.”
He heads into the back room and brings out a shitty early 2000s flip phone. Yunjin takes the piece of junk into her hands and smiles. Perfect. “That’s all for me.”
Tim nods and bags the alcohol. He pushes it towards her. “Have a nice night.”
“Thanks.”
I won’t.
NEW VOICEMAILS FROM UNKNOWN NUMBER (7):
[1:21am] “Heyyyyy, Chaewon. You know the craziest thing happened to me today! Shit, I don’t even know if this is your number anymore. I’m going off memory and what’s still in my phone. But wait before you block this one and delete my voicemails, I’m gonna ask you a serious question. Who the fuck is Nakamura Kazuha?”
[1:24am] “Okay, I realized I accidentally pressed hang up. But hopefully, it gave you some time to think. [drunken laughter] You must have a thing for brunettes. I mean I’ve been spending hours going through her profile. Hours. You’re tagged in every single photo. Do you know how many times I’ve asked to mention you on social media at least once and you said no? And I respected that, despite dying inside because I really wanted to show off my girlfriend, y’know? Girlfriend. Like what Kazuha is doing right now. Girlfriend. In every single one of those posts. It’s like she’s screaming KIM CHAEWON IS MY GIRLFRIEND. And you don’t give a shit? What does she have that I don’t? What does—”
[1:26am] “—[hiccup] Fuck. Kazuha. You’ve moved on with Kazuha. No, no, it’s fine. Really. It’s fine. Except the fact you’re a totally different person around her. I’m not talking out of my ass. I can just tell. But maybe I should’ve tried harder to keep track of your life. You’ve blocked my number. Blocked all my accounts. Made yours private so I can’t make a new one to stalk you. And even the ones I’ve made to stalk you, you’ve blocked them. But you didn’t count on Kazuha spilling all your shit. Calling you out on your bullshit. But you know what’s the biggest joke of them all? Kazuha’s first post with you in it was posted a week after we broke up.”
[1:30am] “[laughter and sobs] I’m trying… I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, unnie. Because you insisted— You insisted you never cheated on me. And I believed you. I fully believed the reason you left me was my fault, and you lost interest in me. That you couldn’t be a good girlfriend to me. Because of MY faults. It would’ve…. I dunno. It would’ve hurt less if you broke up with me because you were bored of the version of me I became to make you happy. What was left after I gave up and threw away the parts you hated. That’s how fucked up… Fucked up you’ve made me.”
[1:33am] “But the facts. The facts and the timeline don't lie. You aren’t the good girl who tried to save us from ruin by leaving the minute you felt like we weren’t working. You’re a fucking liar! You’re a fucking coward. Kazuha was the girl, wasn’t she? You cheated on me with Kazuha. That night we broke up, Kazuha was all over you, messing up your makeup… Kissing lips that were mine while you promised her forever. You probably spun the same tale you told me to pull her under your spell. Does she know? Does she know about me? Does she know what you left behind to build a fairy tale romance on the ashes of a love you burned?”
[1:36am] “I can’t… I wish I was Kazuha. I’m so fucking pissed, but I wish I was Kazuha. Should I have dyed my hair brown? Learned Japanese? What could I have done to make you stay…? [loud anguished cry] I hope she makes you happy. I hope she feeds your fantasy of self-righteousness because if you weren’t so fucking ashamed of what you had done you wouldn’t have tried to shut me out. You’re a liar and a cheater, and you are a narcissist. But you know what? I’ll die happy knowing she will never love you like I do.”
[1:38am] “How? Why? Oh, it’s simple. [muffled shuffling and sound of gulping alcohol] I know the monster you really are, and I still love you for it. I will never stop loving you, Chaewon. You’ll have to kill me. That’s how fucking bad it is. But you know what’s stronger than my love for you? My hatred. I hate you so much that every time I’m in pain I hope you suffer just as worse. I hope every time you think of me you’re sick to your stomach. I hope there are reminders of me everywhere in your life no matter how hard you try to sever all ties. Tomorrow, and the next day, and forever, I’m here. I’m not going away. That’s why I’m calling you, hm?”
[1:40am] “You want me to move on? Give me back every piece you’ve stolen from me, and you’ll never see me again.” [VOICEMAIL COULD NOT BE LEFT AS THIS NUMBER HAS BEEN BLOCKED.]
chaewon: I think I’ve been far too lenient with you, or you still have not gotten the hint after yet another attempt to contact me.
chaewon: YOU NEED SERIOUS HELP, HUH YUNJIN. DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD THINGS COULD HAVE GONE IF KAZUHA HEARD ANY OF THE VOICEMAILS YOU LEFT ME? THANK GOD I WAS ALONE!
chaewon: Stay the fuck away from me and my girlfriend. If I ever see your face or hear your voice again, I’m calling the cops and getting a restraining order.
chaewon: And don’t think I will stop there. I’ve kept all the messages you’ve sent me. My family has a phenomenal lawyer. I’ll ruin your life, Yunjin. You’ll rot in prison for stalking, harassment, and overall being a fucking freak and danger to society. Try me.
Yunjin rubs her eyes and rereads her texts for the nth time. Chaewon unblocked her number just to give her one final warning. But yet as her ex’s carefully crafted threats sink into her hungover state of consciousness, all she can do is laugh. Chaewon isn’t serious. If she was serious, she would’ve reported her ass months ago. The voicemails would’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back—not her final warning.
She rolls onto her back and giggles almost manically, arms flailing at her sides. Chaewon secretly must get a thrill from this attention. The satisfaction that she is still on Yunjin’s mind after all these months apart.
And the more she thinks about it, the more it pisses her off. She’s been giving Chaewon exactly what she wants this entire time.
Moving on is a part of the grieving process. There’s no time limit, no universal experience, and the five stages of grief might as well be four stages you fluctuate between to cope. There is no acceptance, no self-actualization when moving on from Kim Chaewon.
She sits up and hugs her knees to her chest. Sunlight peeks in through the cracks of her closed shades. She is not proud to admit she has relapsed.
(Or maybe her journey to freedom never began in the first place.)
She kept everything bottled up inside, holding onto a false hope that Chaewon would change her mind and come back to her. No, that doesn’t sound right. She has survived despite the Chaewon-shaped hole in her heart. There are moments of happiness that she finds in the little things. Bar-hopping with friends, ice skating in Central Park, perusing bookstores that have seen better days. Proof alone that Chaewon hasn’t always been the only joy in her life.
Yunjin thinks back to yesterday’s lecture. She hadn’t really put her finger on why she was so angry, why she felt so personally attacked by the guest professor’s philosophies on writing and the morals of writing about other people. She felt deja vu. The more she reflects on the words coming from the professor’s mouth, the more they begin to bleed into memories of arguments she’s had with Chaewon.
Her tears blink away in shame.
She picks at her nails and breathes deeply.
Across the room is her desk, neglected journals scattered across the worn-out wood. Pages and pages of thoughts and feelings that she could never speak aloud. Songs of raw emotion, the mouthpiece of feelings she has never openly acknowledged or allowed herself to feel.
That’s it. That’s what’s been missing.
She unlocks her phone and pulls up the notes app. Her fingers shake as she types:
I can only process my feelings through the songs I write. But I never got a chance to sing those songs. So, here lies the vault filled with everything Chaewon has made me feel—before, during, and after her. I have to open Pandora’s box and set it free before I eat myself alive.
The key to moving on does not lie in some radical self-discovery journey. It involves returning to a life she swore she would abandon for the sake of love.
Without thinking, she scrolls through her contacts for a number she never thought she would call.
A deep breath. Her limbs are numb. Though her mind starts to race with regrets and doubts, echoing discouraging sentiments Chaewon has sewn into her skin. It bangs like pots and pans.
Stop it. Stop it. Don’t be stupid. You don’t have it in you. You’re not good enough. No one will want to hear you sing after you turn your back on your would-be listeners.
Turn it off. Turn it all off.
She swallows mucus. Tears roll silently down her worn cheeks.
“Yunjin? Is that you?”
“Hey, Sakura. Long time, no see.”
She exhales shakily, speaking before Sakura can ask questions, or her tightening chest can change her mind.
“Do you… Do you still do Open Night Mics on Fridays?”
Her distorted voice blasts from the living room. Sped-up and layered over the instrumental of “Another Love” by Tom Odell, but it’s still unmistakable. You can never get used to cringing at the sound of your own voice, even if it’s been dolled up by sound editing by whoever downloaded her videos and converted them to an mp3 file.
But, why?
Why is she hearing this now? Is it a ghost?
Yunjin shakes her absurd thoughts away as she emerges into the open room.
It’s dark; the only light comes from an LED phone screen. Colors flash between white and red before they repeat the same pattern across her girlfriend’s face. Chaewon’s gaze is fixated on her phone. Widened eyes and tense shoulders. Yunjin’s voice loops on repeat like a broken record.
Yunjin unravels the towel covering her hair. She doesn’t know how to approach this. What is she supposed to say? The tension in the air is thick. Yunjin anticipates an intervention or a serious confrontation.
When she can’t read Chaewon’s expression, which is more often than not, she knows she’s about to plummet into the abyss.
“This is you,” Chaewon says without looking up from her phone. “This is your voice.”
Yunjin pauses, unsure if Chaewon’s tone is accusatory or not. She shifts her weight. “I… I think it’s ‘Destiny.’ The song I released for hitting 1K subscribers on YouTube.”
Chaewon lets out a “hmph.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t make that if that’s what you’re wondering,” she stammers. “I would never. Fuck that! I would never sell my soul to make shitty TikTok remixes so my music would go viral.”
“So, you’ve known about this.”
Yunjin freezes. Her gaze darts to the side and then at her feet. She’s silently thankful Chaewon doesn’t have night vision, or she’s sure she would think Yunjin had been keeping this from her on purpose. Which isn’t true. Yunjin doesn’t keep anything important from Chaewon. It’s the most valuable part of relationships. Honesty. No secrets and lies. She does whatever she can to make sure Chaewon trusts her with her whole heart.
“Well, I didn’t… I didn’t expect it to blow up.” Yunjin takes a deep breath. “I found it a few weeks ago because you know how creepy algorithms are. I just thought it was cute that somebody liked my music enough to make their own creative sound with it. But… uh… How many people are using this sound?”
“There’s about ten thousand posts.”
“HOLY SHIT!?”
Chaewon clears her throat. “Not so loud, Yunjin-ah. You’ll wake the neighbors again.”
“Again? If I remember correctly, that was you who caused the noise complaint last time.”
Even in the dark, she can feel Chaewon’s dagger-like glare piercing through her.
Okay. Not the right time to joke about how loud Chaewon is whenever Yunjin goes down on her.
Yunjin bows her head. “Right. Sorry.” She navigates through the dark to sit next to Chaewon on the couch, sighing gently as Chaewon immediately scoots closer to her. The warmth of her girlfriend’s skin on hers reassures her. Chaewon isn’t mad. At least, not mad enough that she doesn’t want to touch her.
She looks over Chaewon’s shoulder and smiles as she reads the text on the video: JUST LOOKED UP THE ARTIST WHO SINGS THIS. JENN IS SO COOL. DESTINY’S INSTRUMENTAL IS BETTER THAN ‘ANOTHER LOVE’ TBH
“Wow…” She doesn’t fight her smile. “I never imagined I would get to a point where I would get to see my music have an impact on anyone.” Her hand covers her mouth. “It’s so surreal.”
Chaewon fidgets next to her. In the glowing light, she does not smile.
“I could really do something with this, unnie,” Yunjin continues, heartbeat quickening as images of herself performing at the VMAs flash across her mind. Even more ambitious ones grace her. Opening for Taylor Swift on yet another leg of the Eras Tour. Accepting a Grammy for “Best New Artist.” Being able to write and collaborate with some of her favorite artists like Charli XCX and Sabrina Carpenter. It’s crazy—beautiful—but crazy.
But she has a footing, and it could really go somewhere.
“I don’t know, babe,” Chaewon replies shortly.
Yunjin feels her hopes start to deflate. “What do you mean?”
“All these songs that go viral on TikTok. Their singers don’t have any actual fame. They’re one-hit wonders. People will only know their music by the soundbites being replayed on repeat on their favorite animal videos.”
Harsh, but true.
Chaewon glances back at her. “The music industry has gotten more brutal. They’ll take you and use you for quick cash and drop you as soon as you flop. Even contribute to flopping, for that matter.”
Yunjin takes Chaewon’s hands in hers. She trusts Chaewon. Her girlfriend has always had her best interest at heart. Maybe she’s right. Maybe all this sudden viral fame is too good to be true.
“You want my advice?” Chaewon cups her cheek, thumb tracing over the curves of Yunjin’s lips. “If a record label reaches out to you, decline their offers. Don’t try to monetize this. Think about it. It’s not your song that’s going viral. It’s a shitty remix of it.”
“The remix is not shitty—”
“I could do better with one hour on GarageBand.”
Yunjin rolls her eyes playfully. “Such a Debby Downer.”
“But… More selfishly…” The couch cushions dip as Chaewon puts the phone on the coffee table. Then, her girlfriend climbs into her lap, wrapping her arms and legs around her in a tight hug.
She melts in her embrace, letting Chaewon’s sweet perfume overwhelm her senses as she presses kisses on her cheeks, ears, below her jawline.
“I don’t want you to get a cult following. They’ll realize how hot you are and try to steal you from me,” she hisses. “I don’t like sharing, Yunjin-ah. I want to be the only woman in your life.”
“You are,” she says exasperatedly. “There’s nobody but you, Chaewon. Seriously. You’re it for me.”
Chaewon hums with approval as she tilts her head to the side, allowing Yunjin to pepper reassuring kisses down her hollow neck.
“Is that so…? Well, maybe, I’m more selfish than you think. Maybe I want you to delete all of your Jenn profiles. Delete all that pretty music of yours that are windows to your soul. Let no one else know the real you but me.” She giggles and rocks her hips against Yunjin.
A temptress. Chaewon always does this when she wants something from her.
And Yunjin would give her the fucking world.
“Yeah? You want me to be your songbird? Lock me up in a cage?” Yunjin hisses as she bites her pulse point.
Chaewon moans deliciously, gripping her shoulders tightly as she tries to lift Yunjin’s head up.
Yunjin smiles; dreams of fame and singing in front of a sold-out stadium slip into nothingness as Chaewon engulfs all five of her senses.
“I swear it. I’ll exist just for you.”
Chaewon kisses the corner of her mouth sloppily. “Don’t release any more music then. Promise me? If you really want to be a singer, I’ll ask my dad to pull some strings, but I…” Her mouth is just inches from Yunjin’s. “Don’t want anyone to fall in love with you but me.”
Yunjin brings their lips together hungrily. Promises sealed with a desperate kiss as she holds her girlfriend close.
Chaewon moans in her mouth, breaking away as soon as Yunjin tries to kiss her with tongue.
In the dark, she can sense Chaewon’s triumphant smirk.
“If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. But as long as I have a say in it, I want you all to myself.”
Sixty-five.
Yunjin has written sixty-five songs about Kim Chaewon, and yet that number still doesn’t feel like it’s enough.
She reads through her journals and checks the date on each page, noting on another piece of paper which songs correlate to which part of the Chaewon timeline.
Seven during the talking stage.
Eight before they made it official.
Sixteen after Yunjin confessed she loved her. The last one conveniently was right around when Chaewon asked her to stop releasing songs and abandon her social media presence as Jenn. (Yet only two of them are about being in love.)
Nine when the relationship started teetering out and Chaewon began to distance herself.
Ten written the day of the breakup. (Almost all of them are incomplete and incoherent scribbles. One of them is just Chaewon over and over again to the tune of “The Scientist” by Coldplay.)
The last fifteen are all written in the fallout. Various songs ranging from ballads to hyperpop to numb the pain of breakup. Yunjin remembers she listened to FROOT by Marina on repeat for a while, fascinated by the fact the album had a song called “Happy” that sounded sad and “Blue,” which was an upbeat song.
It hurts to read over the songs she wrote, tears streaming down her face as she remembers when, where, and how she was feeling during each song she wrote. But the pain is also healing. Just as she is sharing this pain captured through lyrics with herself, it will help heal her when she shares it with others.
It’s the best she’s felt about herself since Chaewon left her.
Music. Music is the piece of her that she’s been missing—that Chaewon stole from her—music will free her from Chaewon’s looming grasp on her.
Because now the world will know about everything Chaewon has done to her. She won’t be locked in her thoughts, held down by a woman who fears what Yunjin could achieve if she was allowed to sing her heart out.
Chaewon won’t know. She wants to uphold her perfectly crafted narrative that she needs to save Yunjin from herself. That she did no wrong? Fine, she can. But Yunjin will sing the truth. Her truth.
The last song in the journal is called ‘Tightrope.’ It’s about the eggshells she had to walk on to be good enough for Chaewon, but as she finishes her crossing across the tightrope, she realizes there is no end. No matter what, Yunjin would fail Chaewon.
It’s perfect.
She wipes her eyes and beams at the journal. She’ll make a few adjustments and rewrite some parts, but she couldn’t ask for a better comeback song.
If anything, her performance represents her choice to jump off the tightrope. If she’s going to fail Chaewon, she’ll do it on her own terms.
(This is the part where she’s supposed to ask Chaewon permission to sing this song, isn’t it?
To that, she says, tant pis.)
Her phone buzzes.
zuhazana: i’m sorry if i scared you off with that question :( ur right its none of my business
zuhazana: but i saw there’s an open mic night at sakura’s saloon and one of the performers listed is named jenn.
zuhazana: is it you????? are you making a comeback?????
Yunjin smiles.
jenaissante: <3
Yunjin finishes the last touches of her makeup. She spent a pretty penny preparing tonight’s look for her redebut. She dyed her hair dark blue in her bathroom, making her sink and bathtub look like a smurf had been murdered. (She hopes if she gets any tips tonight they’ll pay for a deep clean of the tiles.) Her makeup look matches the blue hues in her hair. Blue eyeshadow, navy eyeliner, and yes, dark blue lipstick. A bold choice as she had no idea if dark lip colors would work with her skin tone, but tonight is about making a statement.
One of the lightbulbs around the mirror in the green room flickers, and Yunjin puckers her lips, blotching stray marks around her lips with a tissue.
The door creaks open. “You’re on in two. Everything going smoothly?”
Yunjin almost jumps out of the old leather chair. She exhales with relief when she meets Sakura’s soft gaze. “Yeah. Just nervous.”
Sakura chuckles. “I bet.” She closes the door behind her and leans against it. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you would ever take my offer to sign up for one of my events.”
Yunjin balls up the tissue and tosses it.
“When you and that old girlfriend of yours came by six months ago, she looked like she was about to rip my head off for even inviting you to participate. I was convinced she deleted my number off your phone.”
She’s crazy, but not that crazy, Yunjin doesn’t say. Instead, she flashes a tight-lipped smile and jokes, “I had you saved under Plumber. She’d be an idiot to try and delete that when my water bills are so high.”
“Touché.”
Yunjin closes her makeup bag and makes eye contact with the older woman in the mirror’s reflection. “I’m terrified, actually. What if I don’t got it anymore? What if people saw in me in the first place has completely, like, vanished?” She exhales shakily. “I haven’t sung in months—let alone in front of a bunch of strangers.”
“This isn’t America’s Got Talent, hun.” Sakura approaches from behind, placing her hands on her shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly. “Just have fun with it. You’re literally the only performer tonight that has any clout—even if you’re old news. That’s what Open Mics are for. Free exposure, more business for me, and I don’t even have to pay any wages for talent. It’s a win-win situation!”
(She can’t tell if Sakura is joking or not.)
“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better.”
Sakura grins. “You could also try picturing everyone naked.”
Yunjin rolls her eyes. In some ways, Sakura is like a cool wine aunt, even if she is at least a few years older than her. Old souls always have that energy.
“Thanks, Sakura. I mean it.” Yunjin spins the chair around and gives her a meaningful look.
“You’re going to kill it. Trust me.”
Sakura blows her a kiss and saunters out of the room, leaving Yunjin to make her final preparations.
Ten minutes later, Sakura calls her name. Her stage name. It sends a rush of adrenaline through her as she grips her guitar close—the strap almost slipping off her shoulders. She never thought she would hear her name on the lips of a crowd again. Gosh, she hasn’t started performing yet, and she’s already emotional.
She takes a seat on the stool, resting her guitar in her lap as she briefly tunes it. All she can see in the crowd are shadows and silhouettes of heads facing her direction. No faces. So she can imagine they’re smiling, waiting for her with bated breath.
This is it. This is the moment.
There’s no going back now.
There’s a brunette in the front row. She can’t see the top of her face because of the stage lights, but she can see the woman is smiling at her. It’s a pretty smile; it glows almost brighter than the spotlight burning against her.
(In another life, that woman could have been Kim Chaewon.)
She clears her throat and leans close to the mic. “Hey, y’all. Long time no see. I’m Jenn. You may have heard of me; you may have not, and that’s okay. But I’ve come to share something special with you all. Something that comes deep from my soul. It’s about a woman who plays ringmaster in the circus that was our relationship, and I was forced to walk on eggshells.”
She strums a C chord.
She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her beating heart and stop her hands from sweating and shaking up a storm.
“It’s called ‘Tightrope.’”
She inhales one last time—the last moment she has kept everything her ex has made her bottled inside.
The opening notes come easy to her like a tightly-held secret bursting through dam walls and flooding the rivers below.
She plays and sings and locks Kim Chaewon in her heart.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
Yunjin wipes her tear-stained cheeks.
She did it. She fucking did it.
And the crowd adored her.
Chanting her name like she was their hero.
You never really realize how much you’ve missed something until you’ve finally gotten it back after so long. She can’t stop smiling. Her cheeks burn as her lips push them further and further away.
“Jenn?” An unfamiliar sweet voice calls her name as someone knocks at the door.
Yunjin blinks with surprise and finishes wiping her face. “It’s open! Sorry, hold on—”
The green room door barges open. A woman with a soft expression and a bouquet of daisies greets her. Peering her head around the plastic cover, Yunjin recognizes her as soon as she makes eye contact with bright brown eyes.
“You must be Kazuha.” It leaves her lips without a second thought. Her heart skips a beat. Pictures don’t do her justice. Kazuha is just as elegant and pretty as she appears on Instagram.
“Yes! It’s an honor to meet you in person. I just had to come to congratulate you. I hope that’s okay! Your new song— It’s so— oh my gosh.”
Yunjin’s heart fluttering from Kazuha’s exuberant praise comes to a complete stop when she sees a familiar short figure behind her.
Oh, no. Oh, fuck no.
Kim Chaewon laces her hand with Kazuha’s and practically stands on her feet—that’s how close she’s clinging to her. Her hair is back to blonde, but she’s chosen to let it grow out since the pictures she took with Kazuha. She’s still so beautiful. She’s still so angelic.
Bile creeps up her throat. Her insides ache; her gaze refusing to leave Chaewon. It’s one thing to see Chaewon all over another girl on social media. It’s another to see her do it in person.
Yunjin has to fight the thoughts of That should be me overwhelming her senses.
Kazuha leads Chaewon further into the room and practically shoves the bouquet into Yunjin’s arms.
Yunjin blinks and bites her lip, muttering her gratitude as Kazuha keeps beaming at her like she is a goddess. It hits her then that Kazuha must really be a fan of hers. Like way more than she thought. To the point where Kazuha looks like she’s about to start bouncing off the walls like a puppy who has zoomies.
(How cute is it to be idolized by Chaewon’s girlfriend?)
“Oh, Jenn, this is—” Kazuha pulls Chaewon in front of her. “Chaewon, my girlfriend.”
Before she can stop herself, Yunjin narrows her eyes and says, “I know. Nice to see you again, Chaewon unnie.”
Chaewon glowers. Her lips purse as her eyebrows furrow into a scowl.
“Wait, you two know each other!?” Kazuha gasps and then pouts, sending her girlfriend a faux-offended but curious look. “How could you keep from me that you know my favorite singer? Babe!”
“It’s not like that,” Chaewon says dismissively, barely sparing Yunjin a glance. “Yunjin and I worked on a project once when I was still in college. We are no more than former acquaintances.”
“Right.” Yunjin bites the inside of her cheek. Hard. To laugh or to cry? This is so pathetic. Chaewon is so pathetic. Trying to keep her life with Yunjin and her life with Kazuha as two separate entities. No, maybe Yunjin is the pathetic one, expecting Chaewon to behave any differently than she has ever since they broke up.
But how can she lie about their relationship with such a straight face?
Yunjin’s expression falters.
Was falling out of love with her that easy?
“Still, it really is a small world.” Kazuha scoffs and shakes her head. “The fact that I’m finding out Jenn’s real name through my girlfriend who didn’t even want to come tonight.” She pouts but then quickly wipes the disappointment off her face. “Yunjin—is it okay if I call you Yunjin? I need to go to the bathroom. But when I come back, can we take a selfie together? Pretty please?”
Chaewon rolls her eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m sure Yunjin is very busy. You don’t want to overwhelm her, do you?” She squeezes Kazuha’s hand as she speaks with such a sickly sweet but familiar tone. It’s the one she uses when she wants to guide someone to do what she wants without strictly asking them, and it always fucking worked with Yunjin.
Kazuha frowns briefly. Yunjin fears she is just as trapped under Chaewon’s spell as she was.
“Of course, we can take a selfie together, Kazuha,” Yunjin interrupts. “It was you who helped encourage me to perform tonight.” A half-truth. “Thank you for reminding me of what’s important.”
Singing, expressing herself freely, and being accepted for it.
Kazuha’s face reddens. “Oh, Jenn— Yunjin, I— I LOVE YOU! I’ll go to the bathroom right now, quick!” She squeaks and hurries out the door, leaving Chaewon and Yunjin alone.
Alone. For the first time since they broke up. The first time Yunjin has seen Chaewon in person since she left her crying her heart out in her apartment, begging her not to go.
Yunjin’s smile drops as she turns her back to Chaewon. She moves to her leather bag and begins packing her things, trying to block out Chaewon’s overwhelming and dominating presence.
Chaewon still wears the same perfume. It’s still her favorite.
Behind her, Chaewon sucks her breath in. Yunjin’s heart hammers against her chest.
“I forgot how beautiful your voice is.”
Yunjin stiffens. “Cut the crap, Chaewon. Don’t pretend you’ve always supported my singing career.”
In the mirror’s reflection, Chaewon scowls. “Why would you do this, Yunjin? Why would you do this to me?”
Yunjin tries to ignore her, but her ex-girlfriend is as swift as a cat. She grabs Yunjin’s arm and yanks on it hard, forcing her to turn around and face her. Chaewon is beet red. Eyes shaking with fury and something Yunjin never thought she would ever see the woman feel.
Guilt. Regret.
“I tell you to go away and leave me alone, and here you go writing and performing songs about how I’m such an evil bitch who ruined your life,” Chaewon snarls. “You can’t just let sleeping dogs lie? You can’t just fuck off to Tahiti and never bother me again? No, no, that would be easy. That would be nice.” Her head rolls back as she laughs. Not at Yunjin. At herself. “Of course, I had to fall in love with a singer.”
Yunjin feels her back straighten defensively as she crosses her arms, trying to pull away out of her grip. “I don’t understand what the problem is. I never mentioned your name. The subject is ambiguous on purpose so everyone can feel something from this. Whether it be a pain they’ve shared with me or a role they could see themselves in.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “The only person who would know the truth is you, and you’ve already gone to hell and back to cover any evidence that we were ever together.”
“But that’s not fair!” Chaewon hisses. “It’s not fair that you’re fucking torturing me with your goddamn shitty breakup songs, Yunjin! You’re making up stories, romanticizing something that should’ve stayed private and between us.”
“Then maybe don’t come to one of my performances?”
Chaewon shakes her head. “You’re ruining everything with Kazuha. She is a nice girl, and she doesn’t deserve to get caught up in the trainwreck that is you not knowing how to move on. And you need to. For both of our sakes. Before you hurt Kazuha with your lies.”
Yunjin’s lips purse together. “You’re wrong, Chaewon,” she croaks. “This is me moving on. In the only way I know how to.” She forces herself to look into Chaewon's eyes. Tears well up in her shaking pupils. “You took my voice away, and now I’m taking it back.”
Chaewon looks at her, stunned. She probably never anticipated Yunjin would stand up to her like this or tell her no. Or call her out. Everything Yunjin has tried to confront her about, Chaewon would deny and deflect. She never was the one in the wrong. She never had any faults. She is a good person—a good girlfriend—and Yunjin was too much for her to handle.
She cries.
Kim Chaewon starts crying.
Yunjin has never seen this woman cry a day in her life, and it’s haunting.
It’s a good ugly cry too. Mascara running. Snot bubbling and dripping out of her nose. Hands shaking and searching for something to hold onto or rip apart.
But old habits die hard.
Do you know how fucked up it is to love someone who treats you like a pariah but you know you’re the only one who will ever understand them and love them for who they are?
Yunjin tentatively wraps her arms around Chaewon into a loose hold, prepared for Chaewon to shove her away or slap her. But Chaewon welcomes her like an old friend. She makes Yunjin pull her close, burying her head into Yunjin’s sequined tank top. Hot tears press against her bare shoulders and soak into the fabric.
It feels so fucking good to hold Chaewon again.
She rubs her back, biting her tongue. She can’t tell her it’ll be okay because it won’t be. Yunjin has started something that she cannot go back and fix. There is a song out there about Chaewon. About the pain she’s caused. A reflection of who the woman that she loves really is. Could have it been possible to spare Chaewon from becoming her muse? Maybe, if their relationship fizzled out, but she made so much effort to tangle herself so tightly into Yunjin’s life… it’s impossible to remove her.
“I’m sorry. M’h sorry. I’m so sorry,” Chaewon babbles.
Yunjin exhales heavily. The worst part of it all? These tears could fully be crocodile tears. Crying because she’s been caught and exposed. There is a written record of the monster Kim Chaewon is capable of becoming, and nothing can undo that. Maybe Yunjin has made a terrible mistake, and this will ruin Chaewon for Kazuha forever if she ever learns the truth.
But she can’t apologize for doing something for herself. She can’t apologize for trying to let herself be happy again without Chaewon. For coping. For grieving. For finding her lost self again. For moving on.
Tears begin to prick at Yunjin’s own eyes. She squeezes her eyes shut, running her nose through Chaewon’s hair as if that would stop it.
“I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Yunjin.” Chaewon sobs and sputters. “Even if you hurt me so fucking much, even if all I do is hurt you, too.”
Yunjin feels her heart break in two again.
“I love you,” she mutters into her ear, yet it doesn’t hurt to say it or acknowledge it like she did that drunken night calling Chaewon on a cheap flip phone.
It’s easier, she thinks. It’s easier to say she loves Chaewon when she no longer needs her.
“I’ll love you until my last breath,” Yunjin murmurs. It’s the last line of “Tightrope,” and it makes Chaewon cry harder.
What she wants to do is to scoop Chaewon into her arms and take her home. Make love to her until they’re both bruised and exhausted, smelling and tasting like nothing but each other. But that doesn’t solve anything, does it? (And she’s damn sure Chaewon wants her to do that too.)
It’s too late.
Yunjin lifts her head after Chaewon’s shampoo fills her senses. She lifts the shorter girl’s head from her chest and brings their foreheads together. They lean their heads in a certain way so their lips are mere inches from each other but enough distance to keep Yunjin safe.
This is the closest she’s ever felt to her former lover, and they’re not even kissing.
Chaewon strokes her cheek and sniffles, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. She’s trying to hold onto this moment as long as she can.
Yunjin closes her eyes.
Her hand strokes her cheek delicately like she’s trying to relearn or memorize the feeling of her hand on Yunjin’s skin one last time.
“I’m sorry,” Chaewon whispers again.
Hot breath tickles her, and Yunjin licks her lips.
She’s so close. They burn against each other like hot coals.
Footsteps echo outside in the hall.
She’s a writer. She’s a sucker for living in the moment. Savoring every last second so she can commit it to memory and write anthems about it later.
This moment. This moment could be their last.
Yunjin lets it all go.
The footsteps halt. A deep gasp as the silhouette in the doorway comes face to face with the last bars of their symphony.
“Chaewon?”