april #02

you could say i met heejin at work.

it was right before christmas, maybe not right but definitely in the month of said holiday. the company was always bad around this holiday, or any major ones in specific. just the hustle and bustle of everything needing to go on. seasonals coming in the plenty and moving from point a to point a to b with myriads of items being moved as well from camera crew to whatever else. heejin caught my eye though, from her beautiful, silky locks that drooped down on her face that covered tattered scars. her arms kept to her sides for her skin to sheathe the long, inflamed cuts as if they were tiger stripes, blue lips and bright rope burns around her wrists. she was a toy to something — or someone, how whatever tried to repurpose a beautiful figure like herself into a toy.

the full extent of her injuries became clear everytime i passed by her in the halls or lunchroom. without going into much detail, the more i watched, the more it became clear to me that she spent a lot of time hurting herself. the fresh wounds masked many scars, along with deeper, much older trauma.

in the end, she did make it.

i kept tabs on her throughout the next few days. no one came to visit her though. no friends, no family, no significant other, no band mates.

i didn't belong here. not because i was awful at my job — if anything. i'd call myself above average — but because of the stories of the trainees and how they haunted me. the ones who live, the ones who die. even their families and what they tell — they all stay with me. no matter how hard i try to forget and zombify myself to new (and old) gossip. heejin wasn't any different. if anything, she preoccupied me more than usual. the viciousness of her self-flagellation coupled with the horror stories implied by her older injuries struck a chord from within. so did her aloneness.

after she'd been release from practice, i decided to go see her — against my best judgement. i went on my next day off, and had the foresight to bring my gym bag along in case i needed an excuse to leave.

i knocked on the doorframe to recording room she was currently in. nobody else was in there, was she just early or had no other place of belonging? the hollows under her eyes were pronounced as ever, and she had a very particular look about her— something that made her seem both very old and young at the same time— that usually wa associated with people waiting for their turn.

"i work in marketing. i see you — sometimes." i spoke awkwardly. "we pass by each other sometimes in during lunch."

she gave out a thin smile, whether feigned or not was something to remember. it didn't reach her eyes at all. her lips opened to speak but no words came out.

"i simply wanted to check in —" i inhaled deeply, berating myself for what lay ahead and how foolish i felt. "— to see how you are doing."

her expression remained unchanged, lacking warmth, yet something was different; a glimmer of awareness, a hint of curiosity. "about as well as you might anticipate," were the words she decided to share with me.

this was a mistake, i realized. my presence was pointless at best, detrimental at worst. and violated so, so many rules by woollim and how they managed things. i needed to leave.

grimacing down on my lips before my lips had their own way of thinking. " i don't want to bother you. but i'm glad you're here. not here, here. but like — here." i could hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth. i wanted to sink into the floor and die.

nervously swinging my bag from one shoulder to another, but managing to somehow lose the grip as it slid to the floor. and so did the contents of what was inside. the metal clunking of the water bottle bouncing on the floor along with some other toiletries i'd keep in there when needing to clean up. watching with horror as something stuck out, something that didn't belong. an item that belonged to an ex — her brushing kit. something she swore to never leave home or any place without. something i wasn't even supposed to keep with me. why was it there and did i have lingering thoughts and memories for her? surely not.

i dropped on my knees and hurriedly scooping all the fallen contents back into the bag. jesus, i was stupid. not only was this ridiculous, but a potential problematic situation to initiate, and unprofessional as all hell.

i didn't notice heejin left her seat and helping me out until she was right in front of me, same position as i was grabbing belongings and placing it back in my carrier.

"miss — you really don't need to."

"i will." she gave me a careful, appraising look. "and what's your name?" she spoke out but feeling more like herself, one could say? it was different than how things were earlier.

before i had the chance to speak for myself, she just decided on her own. "oppa is okay, right?" a ghost of a smile touched her mouth as it still missed her eyes. "heejin is my name, oppa."

i couldn't get out there fast enough, and didn't bother trying to visit her again.

but then again, after a few weeks, i found a box on my desk one slow morning. i didn't really think about it too much. especially with everything that was going on and all the promotions i assumed it was something work related like a flash drive or confidential files. i opened it up to my surprise and found the last thing i was expecting. the brushing kit. i thought it was the one i left in the recording room with heejin but no; while it was the same scent my ex gave out all those years ago, it was a whole new thing. wrapped around it with a note.

just replacing what i stole, but we can trade back too if you'd like.

heejin

underneath was a phone number.

i knew better, i did. i didn't get hired from nepotism. i worked hard and showed off my skillset! i still called her after my shift though.

it was obvious from the start that heejin needed some company. she had nobody: still no friends from what i've seen. her bandmates rarely talked to her still, which was an improvement if you could say that. no family that visited or called. nobody but me.

it was difficult to be with her. heejin was exceedingly frugal with her feelings and her time. she tended to dip into dead silence, often several days at a time, before slipping back into my life as though nothing had happened. i wouldn't have put up with it from anyone else, but heejin wasn't like anyone else.

i did call her out on it once, full of righteous anger and a solid measure of suspicion. her response was bleak. uncertain smile that was disarming in its openness. heejin was never open. she guarded her feelings as though her life depended on it. so that smile — that sad, self-loathing, brutally honest smile— disarmed me entirely.

"i realize it's wrong," she stated. "but at times i grow weary of burdening you with my presence."

i could almost understand it. in some ways i couldn't quite identify. heejin was always on the precipice. she needed so much, but didn't know how to ask. more than once i walked into her dorm and found her curled on her bed, crying. she never spoke out on what was wrong. never told me what she was feeling or thinking. sometimes being with her felt like being in a pitch-black hangar. the door was there and i knew the key was close by. but no matter how hard i tried, searching near and far for a sparkle, the room was too dark and endless pitch of an abyss with no chance of finding either.

but it wasn't always bad, you know.

she liked to go places. restaurants, national parks, beaches, amusement parks. she did mention once or twice she always wanted to go on a trip to another city, but didn't have the time to allocate. her favorite was an isolated beach bounced by tall, rocky cliffs. on these excursions, she seemed most alive. i loved being with her on days like that.

more importantly. i felt comfortable with her. i didn't feel like i'd known her my entire life— in fact, most of the time it seemed like i didn't know her at all— but i sensed we fit together. that we belonged.

sometimes i was positive she felt the same way. she was often gentle and warm, like she was proud to be with me. sometimes she'd look at me, really, really look at me. like she'd forgotten everything else existed. at times like that, she'd smile. and then her smile would finally reach her eyes.

but just as often, it felt like she was rebelling against that sense of belonging. she was quiet to the point of not communicating, and maddeningly distant. distant enough, in fact, that i frequently contemplated ending the relationship. but i never quite reached that point but heejin always possessed an uncanny ability to close that distance before i could pull the metaphorical trigger.

like i said, it was hard. i loved her. i wanted to be with her. even when things started to slide, even when she got increasingly distant, even when she began to grow cruel— i told myself it was worth it.

we had our first real fight on our second anniversary. i don't remember what it was about or who was at fault as it escalated into a screaming match. i only remember the cold, almost inhuman contempt with which she regarded me. i'd never in my life been looked at the way she looked at me that night, and it crushed me.

so i told her we were done. what else was i supposed to do? just... keep having these fights? they were going to be more often than not, especially after the first one. that was always the stepping stone. i ran out as fast i could and tore out of there as long as my car could take me. no matter how much gas i used. i drove to the beach, huddling in my vehicle in the farthest corner of the parking lot, crying over a girl for the first time in my life.

when i was done, i leaned back and took a deep breath. letting it all out slowly, in shifts, like a train whistle. to my surprise, i felt calm. soothed, relaxed. cleansing. the sounds of the ocean roaring on the beachfront filled my ears and it was serene.

i felt good.

that was the worst part of it all: realizing i was better off with heejin gone.

she didn't say gone though. why, god why. in fact, she came over to see me just two nights later. her eyes were wide and blank. doll-like. i let her in because i still loved her, more than ever before. they said distance makes the heart grow fonder and it was true. i longed for her.

we ordered her favorite; chicken and beer. staying in silence until the doorbell rang out and the smell of chicken filled our nostrils. she clinged to my side as we sat on the patio with the brilliant coppers and oranges of sunset darkened into the evening.

finally she spoke up, "i'm so sorry."

"i know, heejin."

she ran her hands through her hair. it caught the dying light and she seemed to glow. "i know somethings wrong with me, i don't know what i should do to fix it. i don't think it can be fixed."

sitting and waiting silently. quietly nuzzling into her and giving a gentle peck on the crown of her head with a weak smile to dawn on my lips.

"i don't feel like myself anymore. maybe thats the problem. maybe i'm not supposed to be who i am, not supposed to be here at all, and i know it." her voice broke as it sounded like she was going to tear up. "you'd be better off."

and she hardly resembled a human. she was so different now compared to when she initially entered the company as a trainee. her eyes were impossibly wide, her skin smooth like gold-tinged porcelain, and her hair glimmered in the dimming light as she gazed into the twilight skies. "that's nonsense."