Chasing Sleep

You woke up with a pounding headache. It had been a fitful night of rest, with the previous day’s events weighing heavy on your mind. You remembered Jiwoo shouting on the phone, accusing you of something. You remembered that you’d rather argue with her face-to-face than through a line.

It wasn’t the first time the two of you quarrelled over the same issues. You were even starting to wonder if this relationship was worth the effort. Jiwoo clearly did not have enough time to spend with you, and you were tired of being her ‘back-up plan’. For once, you wished she could put you first.

24 February 2026, 2:06 pm

You tapped your phone and blinked. Then blinked again. Something felt wrong, although you couldn’t quite place a finger on it.

You spent the afternoon mulling over the argument with Jiwoo. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember what she was so upset about. As hard as you tried, you could only remember the screaming, but not the exact words. You thought that perhaps she was just having nerves about releasing a new single and being busy with promotions. It didn’t matter. You would apologise first, like you always do. And then you would try to get her to see it from your point of view. 

24 February 2026, 9:07 pm

By evening, you were sitting at your kitchen table, the leftovers from dinner staring at you like a sad puppy wanting to be picked up. You wondered if you looked like that to Jiwoo too. You couldn’t call her before she called you—some arrangement that you’d agreed to, but no longer remember why. The only option you had was to check her schedule and anticipate her call.

Right as your phone rang, a sparrow landed on your window ledge, chirped once, and flew away. You felt a sense of déjà vu, but shrugged it off as you picked up the call.

“Hi Oppa~ how was your day?” 

Jiwoo’s bright voice greeted you, and you were glad that she didn’t sound as angry as the night before.

“Hello Jiwoo-yah, my day was alright, I guess. It’s better now that I can hear your voice.”

“Sweet talker,” she said nonchalantly, though you could hear the hint of a giggle as she continued. “I’m so happy today! We finally fine-tuned the choreography and are fully ready for our first comeback stage on Thursday!”

You swallowed nervously. You wondered if Jiwoo had really let go of the argument from last night. It was unlike her to leave things unresolved. You decided to test the waters carefully. 

“That’s great! Your new song is really good. There’s this one part that’s stuck in my head. You know what he said to me? I couldn’t even care… less!”

“Yes! Everyone, including us, can't help but recite that part repeatedly. It’s really catchy!”

Jiwoo laughed, her signature melodious sound filling your ears, and you couldn’t detect any trace of anger in it. 

“By the way, Jiwoo-yah, what were you saying last night? Something about fruits?”

She went silent for a while. You expected her to recall last night’s conversation and raise her voice at you again, but instead, her words were steeped in confusion.

“Huh? Fruits? What? Yesterday we didn’t even talk, pabo-yah. My practice overran and you were already sleeping when I tried to call you.”

You jolted as you realised she was referring to two days ago. A shiver ran down your spine. The nagging feeling that something was not right resurfaced again.

“Oppa, you there? You better not have talked to another girl last night and mixed her up with me.”

“No!” You vehemently denied it. “I only have one girl in my life, and that’s you.”

“I know,” she huffed a short laugh. “I was just kidding. Your memory must be really poor and all jumbled up. It’s no wonder why you don’t remember things about me.”

“Hmm? What do you mean I don’t remember things about you?”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing,” she replied in a clipped tone, her voice slowly morphing into the one in your memory from last night.

“It’s not nothing. You’re obviously bothered by something,” you retorted, skin crawling with half irritation and half curiosity. Last night’s argument was something you wanted to resolve, and you wondered if today’s conversation would be steered in that direction.  

Jiwoo let out a sigh, her voice growing tired. “I’ve told you many times before, Oppa. I don’t think saying it again will make any difference. So just let it go, okay?”

Déjà vu hit you again with those words, but you were too annoyed and too invested in the argument to think twice about it.

“No, I don’t want to let it go. And I actually hate doing this over the phone, but what other choice do we have? My girlfriend is a huge superstar who cannot be seen in public with me,” you doubled down, sarcasm dripping out of your voice.

Jiwoo finally raised her voice and screamed into your ear.

“Why don’t you understand?! This is my dream that I’ve been working toward since forever. You think I don’t want to go on dates with you, visit pretty little cafes or amusement parks? I can’t do that, not because I don’t want to, but because the situation doesn’t allow it. But my dear boyfriend doesn’t even remember simple things like my favourite fruit!!”

The third and strongest sense of déjà vu coursed through you, and at this point, your brain finally landed on a chilling conclusion:  You have already gone through the events of this day.

Reeling from the realisation, you blabbered, “Jiwoo-yah, this is what I was talking about before. We were arguing about this yesterday, weren’t we? You even used the exact examples, amusement parks and fruits.”

“What?! What are you even talking about? Don’t change the topic. Ugh… I’m so done with you! Hanging up now.”

The silence enveloped you as your heart pounded hard in your chest. You hoped that all this—including the quarrel—was just a bad dream and things will make sense after a night of good rest.  You went to bed, making a mental note on the date.

24 February 2026, 2:06 pm

You woke up with a pounding headache. A quick look at your phone confirmed your worst horrors—you are reliving the same day. And the worst part is, you have no idea what to do to rectify this problem.

You spent the first few minutes in a panicked state, pacing around your house while your head throbbed and your heart hammered against your ribcage. You could feel a wave of anxiety spreading from your core to your fingertips.

You threaded your hands in your hair and knelt down, literally forcing your body to stop moving so you could think. You decided to get a bottle of cold water to calm yourself down. This was when you observed that the fridge closed at the same weird angle as the previous two days—or rather, the previous two repetitions of the same day.

You started noticing other repeated events—the stray cat that purred at you from the dumpster as you exited your neighbourhood, the boy who fell from his bicycle while you crossed the road, the customer in front of you that fumbled over his dinner order, unintentionally causing you to receive the wrong dish as well.