Chapter 57: Much Needed Study Break

Monday | April 8th, 2024 | 5:56 PM

I don't understand how Minju can play this game for hours and hours. Just sitting here on the client screen was already making me annoyed and frustrated. League of Legends is so not for me, but I couldn't help turning it on in my free time. Was this the influence of the League geek? Speaking of which, I scrolled through my friends list and noticed Minju wasn't online.

Shocker. Considering classes were nearly over right about now, and I'd imagine Minju doesn't have any late classes today, this was pretty much prime time for her to grind. I clicked on Minju's profile to inspect her. Out of all the games Minju played, it's almost all only solo ranked. A few match-history games of Teamfight Tactics here and there, but for the most part this is all she played. What a die-hard.

I wasn't in the mood for any more games, even though I just finished and played only one. The game was too tilting for me to continue on. I turned off my monitor and looked around my half-empty dorm room. It was within this quiet state where my thoughts slowly returned. I could feel them creeping in like a low tide. I didn't want to be alone with them.

It's been a few days since that argument between Chaewon and me. We've texted back and forth, but it's been different. Well, no, not really. I’m exaggerating but I feel so guilty about that night that I overthink every single message I send to her. Chaewon's messages remained friendly, maybe even a bit overly sweet, like she was still treading on thin ice just as much as I was.

It was weird though, because if I was feeling like crap, she had to be feeling it too. I just know it because I know her. But she acted normally. I was sure if I said anything else about that fight she'd bite my head off again. I was so terrified of the possibility that I just tried to act normal too. We went back to how it's always been, at least on the surface.

I know it wasn't healthy. Burying the problem doesn't solve the problem. I know that. But I also didn't know what to say. It felt too late to say sorry now without it being weird since I didn't say it in the moment. But the thought lingered. Shit, it’s still hitting me to this day. This wasn't okay. But I just didn't want to rock the boat again. At some point, I had to bite the bullet. Chaewon deserves better.

Next time we see each other in person, I thought. I'll say it then. That was my plan. An apology over the phone means nothing. I need to swallow my pride, sit in front of her and apologize for my fuckups.

I leaned back in my chair and ran a hand through my hair, letting out a heavy sigh that sat deep within my chest. I still had so much to study for anyways, finals are creeping around the corner like a monster under a bed. Chaewon was right, my actions mattered more than my words. I need to prove to her that I'm trying and that I care.

Okay, new plan for now. I got to get my crap together. One step at a time. Step one: pull myself out of this goddamn slump and actually do some work. I turned my monitor back on, squinting at the bright screen that I'd only just turned off. I closed the League client. That was a distraction. I clicked open my lecture notes for my English class. Lord knows I don't pay enough attention to that boring class.

Miyeon could attest, I'm a napper in that class. Combine an early class with a slow-talking professor and it's a recipe for disaster. Miyeon has probably saved my ass multiple times without me even knowing or realizing. I pulled up whatever reading material we've been going through this semester.

The next step after this would be to actually read them. But geez, having everything pile up on you is just the worst. Not only that, but I have other classes after this that I needed to catch up or refresh on. The idea of doing any of it was like trying to climb a steep wall of mud. I pulled my eyes open and forced myself to read about the themes and symbolism in some story I had no interest in. Five minutes later, my brain already felt like soup.

Fuck me, Minjae. It's really not that hard. I swear I'm not stupid. I am totally, perfectly capable of learning this stuff. It's just... doing it. That's the hard part. Just do it. Be a normal student. I have no idea why it's such a monumental effort for me.

You know, I always heard about that thing about your brain not using a lot of its potential. I think my brain, he's just a lazy fucker. He's just sitting in the control room with his feet up near a big red button that's labeled "Motivation."

Either that, or maybe I'm already using my brainpower for other things. Weirdly enough, I saw myself looking at the bottom of my bed out of habit. Panties, that was where some of my brainpower was being spent. I'd rather sort and take inventory of my collection than study right now.

Matter of fact, I was already getting out of my chair to dig out my collection. As I was on my hands and knees, my phone buzzed from my desk. I rolled over and reached up, grabbing it. My mouth almost went dry:

Haerin

are you busy right now?

My fingers froze on the screen. The last proper conversation we’ve had over text was ages ago, and it was about Christmas. That should tell you how long it's been since we've last texted. Sure, we mostly interact in person, but even so.

Her text was sent just a minute ago. I could easily ignore it and go back to doing what I was doing before, which is pretending to study until I actually do. But that wouldn't be right, I haven’t talked to Haerin in so long. Besides, I was in need of a well-deserved distraction:

not at all, wassup?

I put my phone down and laid my back on the floor, my legs coming up on my bed frame as I waited. I was back. Back to thinking. Did I reply too soon? Do I come off as desperate? Am I thinking too much? Did I put too much emotion into that reply? I smiled to myself. You know, it's been a while since I've overthought about a conversation between the two of us. It was almost nostalgic.

It didn't take long for the blood in my legs to start to tingle and for her to reply with a message:

Haerin

im so stressed rn haha

i really hope i pass all of my classes

The bookworm is stressed? That made me feel better about my procrastination:

that makes two of us then lol

Haerin

lol

have you started studying?

I scoffed and texted a quick reply:

tried to

cant seem to focus

She started typing. Then stopped. Then typed again:

Haerin

same

ugh

i think its getting to me haha

i just tried to eat candy just now and popped an eraser in my mouth

I laughed. A real, genuine laugh that echoed in the quiet emptiness of my dorm room. Of course she would do something like that. I could picture it so vividly. Her face scrunched up in confusion then dawned with absolute horror. I quickly texted her back:

LMAOOO

seems like the stress is reallyyyy bad

Haerin

it really is

Then, another small pause. Then:

Haerin

id call hanni or dani to hang out

yk destress or something

but they're busy

There was a pause. I didn't know if I should say something or comment, but Haerin kept typing:

Haerin

r u free?

I stared at the question, the three glowing words feeling heavier than they should. Of course, I was free. My afternoon was a black hole of academic guilt and a growing collection of unsorted fabric. But, I hesitated for the most part. The reading material for my English class was still up on my monitor. I really needed to do something about that.

I scratched my neck and typed back:

oh yeah im free lol

Her reply came within seconds:

Haerin

ooh nice

im already home

Where was this going:

Haerin

if its okay with u, would u want to come over to my place?

i dont want to offend chaewon or anything

i just dont feel like leaving my house haha

My heart did a little flip, a tiny, traitorous somersault. A quiet afternoon at Haerin's place? Just her and me, away from campus, away from everything that was currently giving me an ulcer, including my own stupid choices? The temptation was a siren's call, luring me toward the rocks.

I mean, that was nice she thought of Chaewon. Even though I'm sure she wouldn't have minded regardless.

But Chaewon. The word was a bucket of cold water. We'd just had that awful fight. I'd promised myself I would get my shit together. An unplanned, solo visit to Haerin's was not exactly "getting my shit together." This was the opposite of that.

But fuck, I really don't want to study.

I sighed and bit back any hesitation:

she’s not the jealous type haha she wont mind

ill come over soon

just let me get ready

Haerinok!!

see you then, let me know when youre otw

I stood up from my spot on the floor, my decision made. The books could wait. They had been waiting for days so they could wait a few more hours. The gnawing guilt I was expecting to feel didn't really come, but something was certainly there. It was a quiet little warning hum at the base of my skull that I chose to pointedly ignore. Maybe I'm getting too good at ignoring this feeling. Maybe that was the problem.

It took me no more than ten minutes to get myself presentable. And luckily, our last conversation about Christmas had her address right near the end. Not to sound like a creep, but I pretty much knew my way there already.

Monday | April 8th, 2024 | 6:26 PM

Of course, the black Honda Accord that Haerin always drives was in the driveway. I used that as my signal to start slowing down as I pulled into a stop on the side of the street by her house. Last time I was here, the neighborhood had decorations and wreaths on every door but now they've all been taken down, which made the neighborhood feel a little bit emptier.

The walk to the front door from my car made me realize it was actually warmer out than it looked. Maybe I dressed a little too warm with my hoodie and all, but at least I had sweatpants on. At the very worst, I can roll them up and make makeshift shorts. Eh, who cares.

One knock, two knocks, and a little chime of her doorbell, and I patiently stood on the welcome mat, hands shoved in my pockets, trying to look casual and not like a guy actively dodging all his life responsibilities.

The door swung open after a moment, and I froze up, my posture becoming stiff as I looked at this older man in front of me. He seemed to be in his mid-to-late forties with tired lines etched around his eyes and a kind, almost cautious smile. He's wearing a button-down shirt and slacks, a standard dad uniform if there ever was one.

He had the same cat-like eyes as Haerin. This family had some strong genes, I guess.

"Hi," the man said, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," my brain stuttered for a second, my social programming flickering. I was sort of caught off guard. This wasn't part of the plan. "I'm here to see Haerin."

"I see," he replied simply. "My daughter?"

There was a little bit of a pause again where I expected a fatherly inquisition. His voice sounded strict in some sense but it had a gentle flow to it.

"Yes, Haerin," I confirmed again, feeling awkward like I'm a solicitor or a religious convert.

"And who might you be?" Fuck, I didn't even introduce myself and I've been standing here for a minute already. Rookie mistake.

"Sorry," I cleared my throat. My name came out a little shakily than I expected. "Hwang Minjae, I'm a friend from her class."

"A boy, friends with my daughter?" He looked me up and down. I swallowed. This wasn't good. I wanted to clear up that it was nothing like that, "No, no, it's not like th-"

Before I could elaborate or dig myself deeper, Haerin's voice cut through from somewhere behind him. "Dad, I got it!" The way she spoke, half-sigh, half-plea, told me this was a familiar scene in their household. The soft padding of her feet on the wood floor followed. And then she appeared, partially shielded by her father's broad frame.

She looked even more... Haerin than usual. If that made any sense. She was in comfy grey lounge pants, with an old white t-shirt. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a messy, messy bun. Little strands framed her face. She saw me and her eyes widened slightly before she managed a small, tight smile. "Hi," she said, a breathy, almost shy sound.

"Hey," I said back. I looked at her dad, who suddenly broke into a smile and laugh.

"Oh, sorry, Haerin. I was just busting his chops before he got through the door." I blinked. I turned back to Haerin to see her rolling her eyes but there was a smile on her lips too.

"Dad," she whined playfully.

"Alright, alright," he raised his hands in surrender, stepping aside to let me see her fully. I bowed my head slightly. I just wanted to get in the house.

"Hwang Minjae," I said again, trying to redeem myself.

He chuckled, "I know. C’mon, Haerin, don't keep your guest standing at the door."

In the background, I could hear an older woman, probably Haerin's mom, call out, "Honey, quit messing with him, the poor boy is about to faint!"

Her father stepped aside, the picture of chastised amusement. "Okay, okay, I'm going," he said to me with a wink, then shuffled away towards the back of the house. Haerin grabbed my sleeve and pulled me inside. "Sorry about that," she said quietly as I was wiping my shoes on the doormat. "They love to embarrass me."

"I was so confused," I let out a sigh of relief. We moved past the threshold. I was fully in the home. The door clicked shut behind us. The world outside muffled away. "I seriously thought he was going to send me packing for a second."

Haerin laughed, a light, genuine sound that seemed to brush away the tension from my shoulders. "Nah. He's all talk." The house smelled like something clean, maybe lemon, and something baking. Cinnamon? It was warm and comfortable. Nothing changed since the Christmas party, it was still just as tidy and cozy as before.

As I entered the house further in, I saw Haerin's mother standing in the kitchen with a warm smile, wiping her hands on an apron. She had Haerin's same eyes, but framed by crow's feet from a lifetime of smiling. "Hi! Hello! It's nice to meet you, I'm Haerin's mother." She had a bright, airy voice.

Mr. Kang chuckled, already halfway to a couch in the living room. She saw my hesitation and gestured me in further, "Come in, come in! Don't be shy."

"Nice to meet you too," I replied, giving a small, stiff wave. "I'm Hwang Minjae." I made sure not to repeat my mistake at the front door.

"Such a polite young man," she beamed, her eyes crinkling. That was a good sign. A few more pleasantries passed between us, with her asking if I had eaten, to which I, of course, politely declined and said I was fine.

"Let's leave you two alone, then," she said, "Back to baking with me, Mr. I-Want-to-Embarrass-Our-Guest."

"Yes, dear," he said, following her to the kitchen without complaint, a little grin still playing on his lips.

And just like that, we were free. “Your parents are-”

Before I could finish, Haerin cut in, “They’re so embarrassing.” She looked back with a small blush and a pained smile.

“Well, I was going to say nice,” I finished with a chuckle. After my initial anxiety faded, it was nice to see how loving her family was. Her dad was a bit of a jokester, and her mother felt like a nurturing woman. Honestly, I’m not too surprised these were the people who raised Haerin. 

Haerin led the way down a short hallway to a set of stairs, the wood floors creaking softly under our feet. "Oh wow, my first time seeing upstairs." I remarked as we walked.

"Don't get too excited," she said over her shoulder, but there was a small smile on her face as she led me into her room.

Her sanctuary.

Haerin's room was more her than the rest of the house. That wasn't to say the rest of the house wasn't her, because it was her family. But here. This is all Haerin.

The walls were painted a soft, calming fern green. There was a simple wooden bedframe and white sheets with little cartoon cats printed all over them. A few scattered throw pillows, shaped like clouds. One wall was dominated by a massive, beautifully-organized bookshelf. Books double-stacked, some with colorful spines, some more muted.

Over on another wall, I saw a rack with two guitars sitting within them, one electric the other acoustic. A small amp was sitting on the floor next to it. Her desk was neat but functional, an open laptop currently displaying a moving wallpaper of jellyfish of all things. There were pens and highlighters arranged neatly in a small holder, next to a little succulent in a tiny pot.

Right above her desk was a corkboard of pinned sketches and drawings, a handful of loose photographs pinned between drawings. I saw one of her and Hanni making funny faces at a cafe. Another of her with Danielle at some museum. And another one of the three of them together, huddled close with Haerin in the middle.

It felt like stepping into her mind, and it was fascinatingly quiet and organized. My own room would have been considered a warzone compared to the orderliness in her space. Haerin sat at her desk, moving her laptop aside.

"Sorry it's a bit messy." She started arranging her pillows. I almost bursted out laughing at her apology. She was looking at the one pillow she just finished fluffing to perfection as I surveyed her room again.

"I don't think you've ever seen my room," I said, taking a tentative step further in. "But, I have to say. It's so... you," I finally found a spot to sit on the edge of her cat-patterned sheets. They were incredibly soft.

Haerin chuckled. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Good. Definitely a good thing," I replied. She seemed satisfied with my response. For a few seconds, we just existed there. She wasn't looking at me, her focus on tidying up an already pristine surface.

"So, eraser," I broke the ice.

Her head snapped up, cheeks immediately flushing a deep shade of pink that was almost identical to the succulent on her desk. "Please, don't remind me," she groaned, hiding her face in her hands for a second. The sight was enough to make my own guilt and stress from earlier in the day dissolve a bit. "The texture was all wrong. And the taste... don't get me started."

"The taste," I repeated, my smile widening. "I didn't even think to ask. You just chewed on it?"

"For a whole, painful, two seconds," she said, finally lowering her hands and sitting opposite me on her desk chair, tucking her legs up under herself. "Hanni was right when she said I wasn't eating enough. My brain is literally trying to eat school supplies for sustenance."

I leaned back and laughed and this time, I found I was starting to enjoy this little chat. "My brain is pretty much the opposite right now," I confessed. "It's refusing to consume anything productive."

"We're two sides of the same coin," she said with a sigh. One that I mirrored instantly.

Her desk was faced away her bed, which was where I was seated. It gave me the perfect view. The afternoon light streamed through her window, catching the dust motes dancing in the air. From this angle, I could see the curve of her neck as she looked down at her knees. I watched her pull at a loose thread on her lounge pants.

"Tell me about the cats," I found myself saying, my finger drawing the outline of one of the cartoon cats printed on her sheets.

Haerin looked over and a smile tugged at her lips. "Oh, um. I don't really know. I've always liked cats. So my mom found the sheet set a few years ago, I think? I just never got rid of it." She then paused, looking at it like she had never noticed it before. "Do they... not have clothes?"

It took me a second. I leaned back and looked closer. It was a cartoon print with multiple, slightly pudgy, stylized cats in various poses. Sleeping, stretching, playing with yarn. All were bare. They were literally just cats.

We started laughing at the same time. Truthfully, I was laughing since she was laughing. It didn’t make sense to me for cats to have clothes but it seemed to entertain her a lot.

"Oh my god," she gasped between breaths, "I've had this for three years. I never realized they were naked?"

This was nice. It was so much nicer than the suffocating silence I shared with Chaewon the other night. No, that wasn't fair. That was my fault, my defensiveness. But this, this felt light. It felt easy.

"Do you want a drink? Water?" Haerin offered, gesturing towards a mini-fridge that I didn't notice just by her bed.

"Oh, shoot, sure," I answered as I got off the bed and reached down to open up the fridge. A whistle left my lips as I turned back, "Woah, Haerin. I thought you said water, not vodka." I commented as I pulled out a half-full glass bottle of vodka from inside her little refrigerator.

Haerin's expression went from a playful one to dead in seconds. "Oh, uh, you can put that back."

I admired the bottle, "It's fine. I didn't think you were the drinking type."

Haerin sheepishly answered, "Not often, no. Only on nights I get really stressed. My parents would kill me if they knew though." The secret we shared now, as stupid as it was, made something warm bloom in my chest.

"Well, you did call me over because you were super stressed. Seems like a perfect occasion." The smile was on my face again. And I felt like some sort of bad influence as the words were coming out. Then again, it was just vodka.

Haerin smiled and lightly bounced her head, "Yeah, sure, let's do it." She turned around and hopped off of her chair, her little sock-covered feet making a soft thud as she reached inside of a little drawer by her bed and pulled out two red solo cups from a stack of them.

"Party cups and everything, you sure you're only a secret drinker?" I joked.

"Shut up," Haerin retorted, her words losing some of its bite because of her shy, giggly smile. She poured the clear liquid into the two cups with careful precision, the sound of the splash loud in the quiet room.

"Chasers? Or do you take it like a man?" I raised my cup.

"No chasers, just pain," Haerin said with a sigh, raising hers up.

"To... not eating erasers?" I suggested.

"To passing our classes," she countered, tapping my cup with her own.

"To passing our classes," I agreed. I tossed the liquor back in one go. The burn was instant, clean, and fiery, a welcome distraction from the emotional wreckage of my life. It was my soju-adapted tongue, but this vodka burned something fierce and went down like fire, forcing a little grimace out of my lips that turned into a laugh which dropped into a frown.

Haerin had no clear reaction. Her neutral face stayed. She just set her cup down with a simple, small "ahh," She's stronger than she looks. Stronger than most, actually.

The initial warmth spread through my chest, melting the edges of the anxieties I'd been nursing all day. Finals and the fight forgotten from my head. The edges of Haerin's room seemed to soften. The green on her walls seemed more vibrant. The whole world just felt... okay.

"So this is your destress method," I said, leaning back on my elbows on her bed. “I get it.”

"One of them. Others are more productive," she confessed. "Like... music." She pointed toward the guitars. "Or even drawing. I'm not very good at it."

"You said that before, but I'm looking at some of your drawings on your corkboard," I argued gently. My head tilted as I scanned over them again. Mostly pencil or pen sketches. Most of them, cats. Some were animals I didn't recognize. Little doodles. "Those look really good."

"They're nothing," she mumbled, waving it off. But I noticed the slight pleased tilt to her lips.

"Lemme guess, you draw these whenever you get stressed in class."

"You know me too well," she said with a genuine smile. This one was more relaxed. She picked up a pencil and an old sketchbook that was lying open next to her laptop. The pages were full, but neat. She scribbled something for a few minutes, completely absorbed. I propped myself up to watch.

After a moment, she turned the book around to show me. It was a small, quick drawing of a little cartoon me, sitting on her bed with a ridiculously pained face after taking a shot of vodka. Little X's were drawn over my eyes to emphasize how drunk I was. And a speech bubble above my head saying "Ugh!"

"See? A masterpiece," I grinned.

She snorted, looking back at the sketch. "It's just a doodle." But I could see the pride in her eyes, the way they held on the drawing for a second longer than necessary. She turned to look at me, "Another?" she asked, gesturing to the bottle of vodka.

"Who am I to say no?" I raised my now empty cup.

This time she poured, her movements more sure. This second round went down a little easier. The room tilted just the tiniest bit. A very welcomed feeling. "Now you're talking," I set my cup down. "My stress methods... I guess they're a little less creative than yours."

"Let me guess," she said, her tone turning teasing. "Video games and sleeping."

"And other things," I added vaguely. My eyes drifted, for a split second, towards the spot in my own room where my collection was hidden. A quick jab of guilt, hot and sharp. This was supposed to be an escape. I shouldn't be bringing that here.

"Oh? Mysterious," she raised an eyebrow. My brief pause didn't go unnoticed.

"Just guy stuff," I said, dismissing it. "Can I see you play your guitar?" The words were out of my mouth before I'd registered thinking about them.

Haerin's head lifted, her expression surprised but not upset. "Oh, uh, sure." She slid off the chair and went over to the rack, carefully unstrapping the acoustic one from its stand.

"Do you play a lot?" I asked, leaning back onto the bed.

"Some days," she said as she brought it back and sat on the floor, cross-legged in front of me. She settled the guitar on her lap and positioned her fingers on the fretboard. Haerin grinned and chuckled, "I don't know what to play."

I shrugged. "Anything is fine." So she closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts and then just began to play, her fingers plucking a soft and gentle melody from the strings. Not a recognizable song, just something that seemed to come from within her.

It was delicate and a little melancholic. It filled the quiet spaces of her room. The melody seemed to mirror the way the afternoon light was streaming into her room, warm and calm, with long, stretching shadows.

My buzzed brain, now running on cheap vodka and Haerin's silent presence, went weirdly quiet. The anxious voices that were normally screaming at me were just... muted. There was just her. The soft scrape of her fingers against the strings, the muted thud of her foot tapping out a rhythm on the floor. The scent of cinnamon from whatever her mom was baking seemed to drift up through the floorboards, mingling with the clean lemon of the house.

She played through the melody a couple times, making small adjustments here and there. The alcohol had definitely softened my focus; it was like I was watching the scene through a soft-focus lens. It was an incredibly intimate feeling, being in her room like this, her private space, and witnessing her own private escape.

The final notes hung in the air for a moment before she finally spoke again, her fingers still resting on the strings. "How was that?" She then looked up at me, expecting me to answer. It was a soft question, gentle. Just like her. And I think that's what I like about her.

"Really nice. You've got talent," I answered. The words came out slower than I intended, a little more deliberate. Maybe because of the alcohol, maybe because I actually meant it, but I thought my answer was a lot softer compared to my usual replies.

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment and she looked back down at the guitar. "Thank you." It was a whisper. She played another small section of notes, this one seemed more deliberate and brighter than the previous.

"I didn't know you were so musical."

"I don't play much when other people are around," she said quietly, her focus on the fretboard.

"So I'm special?" I pressed, a lazy smile spreading across my face. Maybe too lazy.

She looked up, her eyes meeting mine for a beat before they darted away back to her hands. "Sure," she said. A tiny smile played on her lips, so quick I almost missed it.

"I call this one 'Super Shy'," She said as she began to strum a new tune, this one with a poppier rhythm, but still played with the same gentle touch.

I laughed. The name was perfect for her. "You made this?" I asked.

"Mhm. Just messing around with stuff, you know?" She continued to play, her movements becoming more confident the further she got into the song. It was a catchy little tune, and I found myself gently nodding along. "I'm super shy, super shy," she sang, her voice light, almost a little breathy, but not bad. "But wait a minute while I make you mine, make you mine."

I stared.

Her entire being seemed to go into the music, the words. The way her eyes closed, her slight smile while singing that line. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking somewhere far off in her memory. And I was completely mesmerized.

It didn't even feel like a question. Maybe something about the vodka, the dimming afternoon light filtering into her room, the melody. Or maybe something about the way she looked so in her element right in front of me.

The music stopped. The room was left with the lingering buzz of my thoughts. I was aware my heart was beating a little faster. I needed to say something. "So that's your other coping method, huh? Writing pop hits?" The joke was a flimsy excuse to break the stare that I was giving her.

"I don't know about hits," she said with a small giggle. "I want to show you something, but more vodka okay?" she motioned her cup again. She didn't seem that bit affected by it, considering she just played through her guitar without messing up.

"I'm not going to say no," I said. So we had a third. The burn was still kicking my ass as I set my empty cup down for the third. But my thoughts, they didn't feel as heavy. They felt like they were floating. This was definitely a mistake. I think I'm getting there. This definitely will bite me in the ass later.

Haerin, on the other hand, set her cup down with practiced grace. She still looked like she could recite the entire periodic table forward and backward while doing my calculus homework. She bounded towards her closet, opening it wide.

It wasn't the explosion of color and chaos I expected from a closet. It was... neat. Rows of folded clothes on shelves. Dresses and jackets hanging precisely, organized by color. But tucked away in one corner, on the floor, was a black trunk. The kind I imagined musicians using to haul equipment to shows. It had shiny metal latches and stickers from bands I'd never heard of, all peeling at the edges.

She crouched down and fiddled with the latches, a slight scowl of concentration on her face. "Here it is." She lifted the heavy lid, and a wave of new smells hit me. She dug out what looked like a semi-modern record player before she pulled out a few vinyl records that were sitting in the case she had retrieved.

"My dad's old records," she said, arranging them in a neat stack. "And an old record player I found at a garage sale."

"An old record player?" I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. This girl. She didn't stop there, pulling out what I found out was a cassette deck followed by a case of cassette tapes. She plugged her record player in the wall by her desk and set a record down carefully after pulling it out of its paper sleeve. A faint crackle came from the speakers.

I didn't recognize the album art. It was all abstract shapes and bold, contrasting colors. As the needle found its groove, a gentle wave of synths washed over the room, followed by a clean, echoing guitar riff. It wasn't anything I'd heard before.

The song was airy and spacious. The singer's voice was soft, almost like they were singing a secret directly to me. The lyrics were in English, and between my half-drunk state and the dreamy quality of the music, I caught words about stars and empty rooms and staying up all night.

"I like the background music," I murmured.

"It's from the 90s," Haerin said softly, swaying on the spot. The music filled all the quiet corners of her room, and by extension, the quiet corners in my head.

"So explain why you just have all these things in here," I laughed, gesturing to her growing collection of antiques.

"It's a hobby," she said simply. "These were my parents' old things. I don't know, I'm obsessed with physical media. The kind of stuff you can hold in your hands." She picked up one of the cassette tapes, turning it over in her fingers. "They have history. Someone made this, held this, sold this, bought this... I like knowing that."

"It's cool."

"It is cool," she corrected me, with a smile that took up her whole face. "You get to appreciate it more, I guess. My record player is my baby." She sat on the floor, back leaning against the side of her bed, a safe distance from me but closer than she had been all day.

"I had a dream," She said after a little bit, looking at the small record player like it held all the secrets in the universe.

"Musician," I whispered, the memory jumping to the front of my mind. The small conversation that happened weeks ago at the community center.

She looked up at me and for once her eyes were open, a lazy, contented smile on her face. It was the kind of smile that made you feel like you were on the receiving end of a really good secret.

"Yeah," she whispered back to me. "I want to make music, and I thought it'd be cool to have my songs on something like this one day. It feels realer, more official, than just getting it on Spotify or Soundcloud." She said, tapping her finger on the spinning vinyl record.

"That's nice," I sighed as my body started sinking until I laid completely sideways on her bed. Haerin laughed, shaking her head at the way I was sprawled out.

"Get comfortable, why don't you," She said, but the sarcasm was so light it was almost non-existent. She then stood up slowly from her seat and walked back over to her vinyl collection for her next song.

Haerin carefully swapped the record. The crackle was a brief, intimate hiss in the quiet room. The song started with a solitary piano note, clear and pure as a drop of water, hanging in the air before a simple, heartbreaking melody began to unfold.

This was different from the last one. The 80s new wave had been dreamy, cool, detached. This was raw. A woman's voice, layered and sorrowful, sang about coming in from the cold and finding the door locked.

"One more?" She held up the bottle before I could even register the question. I could feel the warmth of it all through my veins even without her bringing it into my vision again.

"Might as well," I found myself saying. I'd officially passed the point of no return.

The fourth shot slid down way worse than the others. I could've sworn she poured way more for me than it did for herself, but it might've been the vodka itself talking. A dull thrum started at the base of my skull, not a bad thrum, just a sign that my cognitive functions were now officially off-duty for the evening.

I let my head roll to the side and watched her. She was still completely fine, maybe a little flushed in the cheeks, but otherwise perfectly composed. Haerin can drink, fuck.

Putting down the cup, I tried sitting back down but I barely missed the bed and I ended up on the floor.

The soft thud of my butt hitting her bedroom floor, followed by her gasp. I hissed and chuckled, "Fuck, alright." That knocked some of the drunken clarity out of my head, but the world still felt like it was gently spinning.

"You okay?" She asked with a long laugh. I was trying my best to fight the stupid grin off of my face but I couldn't help it. Haerin lowered herself down before she was sitting opposite me, mimicking my slouch. Everything felt heavy but I tried not to show. The polished wood of her room stuck against the sweaty palms of my hands.

"Better now," I said, leaning my back against the side of her bed. The song on the record player filled the small space between us. "I guess you just wanted to be on my level, huh?" My vision went blurry for a minute but cleared up when I looked at her. Her eyes were fixed on me, no longer darting away. They were wide and dark, reflecting the dimming light from her window.

"Maybe," She smiled. A small smile, but it reached her eyes.

There was a beat. The next track on the record started, a faster rhythm but just as sad, the singer's voice cracking on a high note.

"You said... you had a dream," I started, the words feeling thick and slow in my mouth. "About being a musician."

Her smile faded into something more neutral, more guarded. That was the look I was used to seeing on her. The reserved Haerin. "It's dumb."

"Don't say that," I said, pushing myself slightly. "There's nothing dumb about it."

"What about you? Your dream about getting rich," She countered, a little playful sting in her words. I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, which felt way thicker than it normally did.

I shook my head. The thought of my own half-baked plans now felt cheap. "That was before. I dunno. Now I just..." I trailed off. What do I want? A steady job? Not to be a fuck-up? To not mess this up with Chaewon? My brain felt like a scrambled hard drive. "Honestly? My main goal right now is to just... pass my classes. Maybe open a convenience store. Sell overpriced ramen and snacks to college kids. It's a stable market."

Haerin's laugh was a soft puff of air. "Convenience store owner Minjae. I could see it."

"Yeah? With a little apartment above it." I let the fantasy play out. "Quiet. Simple." My eyes fluttered half-closed. "That sounds nice." The words were a quiet admission I hadn't even admitted to myself. I was selling myself a future without any of the mess that currently plagued my present.

"I can see you and Chaewon having your dinners outside the store, with instant noodles and milk." Haerin said with a small smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that," I said. I feel miserable now, just thinking about it. That simple domestic scene she painted shouldn't have felt so far away, but it did. Guilt came with a crash this time. The comfortable blanket of vodka was not thick enough to shield me from the feeling. "Fuck, I need to focus on school." I groaned, my head tipping forward to rest my forehead on my knees.

"Hey," Haerin's voice was closer now. "You'll be fine. You're smart."

"Ugh, I can't even read a book for class. The words... they just bounce off. They don't stick." The drunken admission was tumbling out of me now. There was no filter. "I just end up sitting there thinking about... stuff. How I'm probably letting Chaewon down. Or... other stupid stuff." My fingers fiddled with a loose string on the cuff of my sweatpants.

Haerin was quiet. I could feel her looking at me. I refused to lift my head. Her words came out so gently I almost had to strain to hear them over the melancholic singer on the record.

"I get like that too."

I risked a peek up through my messy fringe of hair.

"My head..." she started, "It just goes. It gets so loud sometimes. So busy. The music helps. Drawing... helps quiet the noise." She looked down, picking at the polish on her own fingernail. "When I ate the eraser earlier... that’s how I knew today was a bad day. I tried to study, I really did. But all my thoughts were tangled up, screaming that I was behind, that I wasn't good enough, that... I don't know. And my body just got so tired of it, it just..." She made a weird grabbing motion with her hand. "...it made a mistake."

"Eraser," I mumbled into my knees.

She chuckled, "Yeah, eraser."

I sighed and sunk further. "That's exactly it. It's loud in my head, and then I make a stupid, stupid mistake."

"You overthink," She mentioned.

I nodded, another memory with Haerin flashing forward to the forefront of my head. The night we spent together at her favorite park, talking about our habits of overthinking everything until our heads were too full to function anymore. When was that? Weeks ago? Months?

Haerin seemed to have remembered it as well as I did.

"I had an argument with Chaewon. Just this past weekend," I murmured, sliding down onto the ground completely. I stared up at the ceiling of her room. "She found out about my failing grades."

"Oh no," Haerin whispered.

"Mhm. I... I got kind of defensive. And now I think I've made things weird. I feel so far away from her now." I let out a dry little laugh. "I said some really stupid stuff." I put my forearm over my eyes. The world was blurry even without looking.

A beat of silence. My thoughts were screaming again.

"Well," Haerin's voice was so small now. "Arguments happen. It doesn't mean it's over." There was an unsteadiness to her statement. I could tell she was walking on thin ice with her words. I couldn't tell if she was lying to herself by saying that or if she truly believed it.

"Yeah," I sighed, not wanting to talk about that. The words "argument" and "stupid" and "mistake" were swirling around my vodka-soaked brain. She understands. I felt it. The warmth bloomed in my chest again, this one had nothing to do with alcohol. I could talk to her about this stuff and she wouldn't judge, she'd just understand.

The song on the record changed again. The tempo slowing down even more. Or maybe it was my own perception of the world slowing down.

It was quiet. The only sounds were the sad record, the faint buzzing of the record player's amplifier, and the steady rhythm of my own thumping heart. The space between us on her floor felt both immense and infinitesimally small.

After a long, stretching moment, Haerin spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "Can I..."

I didn't move my arm from my eyes. I just mumbled a questioning, "Hmm?"

She said something, but it was too quiet to hear over the mournful piano.

I risked sliding my arm to the side, tilting my head to look at her.

She was already looking right at me. In the dim light, her cat-like eyes looked wide, fathomless.

"What?" I asked softly.

There was a slight shake of her head, her messy bun shifting. A stray strand of hair fell across her cheekbone. Her lips, which were parted slightly in hesitation, closed. "Can I tell you something weird?"

My drunk-brain was trying to run a compatibility check. "Weirder than eating an eraser?"

She let out a quiet puff of a laugh, "Quit it."

"You can tell me anything, I don't care."

"Promise not to tell anyone?" her gaze flickered up to my eyes then down again.

"Do you want me to pinky promise on it?" I sighed softly with a grin.

Haerin thought about it for a second. She held out her hand in front of her, and so did I. I watched our pinky fingers lock, making us look completely ridiculous. I had a strange realization that this was the first skin contact we've had today, and it almost made my entire world stand still. I realized how long it's been.

"Okay," Haerin said, retracting her hand away a bit too quickly for my comfort. She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest, resting her chin on top. "I..." she started, then stopped. Sighed. "I think about... telling you, or Danielle, or Hanni about what's really going on in my head. All the noise, I mean."

I blinked. My brain was taking its sweetass time to process that. My buzzed-self took it, trying to put in the effort to understand. "Well, no, I mean, why I'm the way I am?" She added, correcting herself.

"Mhm," I mumbled again to encourage her.

She hugged her legs tighter. "You swear this is just between us?"

"I pinky promised on it," I promised. A small, sad smile touched her lips and was gone in a flash. I waited. Here it comes. The secret. All her reasons explained. The Haerin I've been waiting for.

"I had just started high school," she began, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her lounge pants. "And there was this guy. He wasn't in my class, but I'd see him around. In the library, or walking in the hallways," Her words became quiet, like I might have had to lean in a couple inches closer to hear it properly. But I stayed where I was, trying to respect her space.

It suddenly dawned on me. The park memory, Haerin mentioned a guy that I reminded of her during my drunk texting incident at the club a long, long time ago. The 'piece of shit boy' as she so-called him.

"He was older. Everyone seemed to know him and like him," Haerin continued, not noticing the flash of recognition in my eyes. She seemed miles away, reliving it all. "And he... he talked to me one day. Just said 'hi' by my locker. And my stupid, stupid brain just fixated."

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, an echo of the shame that always came when I thought about my own collections of shameful, fixated thoughts. But I just laid there, my head against the floor, and I let the alcohol-induced stupor pull my empathy out to the surface to let her talk more.

"He started finding me. At lunch. Waiting for me after school," she whispered. "At first, it was... thrilling. That someone like him would notice someone like me." A small, humorless smile. "I mean, that's the dream, right?" A glance my way before focusing back on nothing.

"He'd ask what I was listening to. What I was reading. He'd find ways to touch my arm. He made me believe... I was special to him." Her breath hitched, barely audible. "And I wanted to be."

"I bet you were," I said before the thought could even fully form.

Haerin gave a little shake of her head, but she was staring off again. "No. That's what I thought." Her eyes closed and the words were now starting to flow out like a confession. Everything. "Fuck."

"He..." another sigh, "He started texting and saying more... sexual things." She looked at me again. I saw how hard it was for her to let that word out, "sexual." Her face was all red now. It was something beyond the alcohol at this point. I could see the shame seeping through her.

"It wasn't just that, he said some more stuff like how pretty I looked that day, you know, it wasn't just... that. It made me feel so..." She was searching the ceiling for the word, "I think I just was happy to be noticed. So I just... let it happen..."

My jaw tightened. A sliver of ice cut through the vodka-induced warmth in my veins. I had a very strong feeling of where this was going.

"Then one day," she said quietly. Her body language closed up again, like a box being locked. "He asked me to come over to his place after school. He said we could listen to some new records he'd gotten." Her shoulders hunched. "I was an idiot. I said yes."

Silence. The sad piano from her record player filled the void, its notes feeling like teardrops. The scent of cinnamon and lemon was gone from my nostrils, replaced by the cold, metallic smell of anticipatory dread.

"Haerin," my own whisper.

Her eyes were still open, looking at the spinning vinyl record as it gave its lonely performance, but I don't think she was actually seeing it.

"When I got to his house," the words were starting to break now. "We hung out in his bedroom, just... talking and listening to music at first. Then..." A hard swallow that I could feel more than I can hear. "We started kissing. And..." Her hands, which had been lax around her knees, curled into tight fists, "He wanted to have sex."

The room tilted again. Not from the alcohol, but from the sheer, crushing weight of her words. I felt like I was crushed at that spot on her wooden floor, like I couldn't breathe.

"It all happened so fast," she said, shaking her head now as she tried to piece through the memory again. She wasn't looking at me. She was just looking straight ahead. "But, I was so... excited. I... don't know." Her words were quiet and the shame was clear, like the room smelled shame now.

"So I told him that... 'yes.'" She closed her eyes to the memory as she made her confession.

I was paralyzed. I don't know why, but my entire body didn't want to make a move or else I thought I would have broken something in that delicate space.

"It was my first," A soft, strangled whisper as her face crumbled. The words hung there. "My... First time."

Her gaze dropped down to her lap, staring at her own hands as she twisted a loose thread of her lounge pants again. "And for a little bit it was... whatever." She wouldn't let herself finish the thought. "But after he finished, he just... got up. Put his clothes back on. And he told me he had to go hang out with his friends."

"Without anything else, he just left me in his room while he left his own house," A tear managed to escape her right eye and she was quick to wipe away on her sleeve. Then more came and she wiped it away again. "I didn't understand it, you know? But I remember how humiliating it felt to walk out of his room, through his house, in front of his family, just so I could go home." Her breath hitched, a little sob that she managed to swallow down.

"The walk home..." She stopped, she didn't want to relive it again. I could see the pain in her face.

"He told the whole school." A short, bitter, sharp sentence. "He bragged about it, said I was so easy and he could get anyone he wanted. Everyone knew. I didn't even realize it until people were staring at me. Laughing whenever I walked into a room. People I barely knew. Girls called me a slut. Someone wrote it on my desk. People started betting on who would get me next."

"Haerin," the name was a rough, shattered sound from my own throat. I tried to pull myself up off the ground but god damn it, I felt so damn heavy and drunk. I could stare at her pained face forever, so I did.

"I stopped talking to people on my own because of this. I couldn't even answer questions for people without me thinking they wanted to use me for something. I studied so hard, so I could get into this university, so I could start over... But, you know."

It didn't register what she meant until one more memory popped in my head. Those two girls that had confronted Haerin outside of the library. Their comments didn't make sense at the moment, but now, with the full context. They were teasing someone they looked down on back in high school. Haerin didn't get to escape her past after all.

"Jesus... Haerin," The words came out heavy, laced with anger and an aching sympathy that was so strong it was physical. I wanted to put my arms around her, but we were on the floor of her bedroom and I was so drunk and my limbs felt like lead and I was afraid of shattering her completely if I touched her. She was made of glass right now, and I was clumsy, clumsy, clumsy.

But she smiled and shook her head, "No, it's okay. It all... makes sense now doesn't it?"

"The piece of shit boy," I mumbled, her own words from the park bouncing around my thick skull.

Her smile widened, "Yeah, what a piece of shit." Another tear escaped but she wiped it away quickly. "But, it's okay now I suppose. That was years ago." She took a deep breath and let out it, shakily.

"It's not okay," The words were rough. It was a promise. "That's... that's unforgivable."

"True, but it happened, and look where I am right now," She gestured to the room, to her little private world she'd so meticulously built. The guitars, the records, the naked cat bedsheets. A world she created to keep people like that out.

I laid my head back down on the hard wood of her floor. Staring at the ceiling, the swirling white patterns seemed to shift and move. The piano on the record player kept playing its sad, lonely song. All the pieces clicked into place with a painful finality. Her crippling shyness, her overthinking, her hesitation, the walls she kept so meticulously reinforced. They weren't just personality traits. They were armor. Scar tissue built up over a deep, ugly wound. I wanted to vomit. The vodka soured in my stomach. The taste was all acid and shame.

How close was I to the type of person that guy was? The little secret that thrived in my own head. The things I did when no one was watching, the thrill I got from something that wasn't mine, that I had no right to take. The shame I felt in the aftermath. The way I carefully curated that shame, kept it secret and hid it away. There was a sickening parallel there, and I couldn't ignore it.

"If it wasn't for him, and all of that. I wouldn't be in one of the best schools in the country." She mentioned trying to make the best of her confession to me. "I wouldn't have met Hanni or Danielle, or you." She added that last part so quietly. It hung there, delicate. It made me realize that what she saw in me, this thing we were building. Whatever this was, she'd found value in it.

Haerin started to lay down onto the floor, her eyes finding my position comfortable. And the space between us became just this narrow ribbon of floor, illuminated by the faint glow from the stereo display lights on her turntable. We were two pieces of broken glass laid out side-by-side, not quite touching, reflecting the same sad light. I could feel the warmth radiating from her body, and my own, drunk-stupid arm wanted so desperately to bridge the gap, to offer some small comfort, but I held it hostage, telling it to stay.

We listened to the rest of the record in silence. Our breathing patterns somehow managed to find the same rhythm, inhaling and exhaling in a quiet unison. When the side finished, the soft click of the needle lifting off the vinyl and returning to its rest was deafening in the quiet.

"Another?" Haerin's voice was soft, with a hint of teasing in it. We laughed.

"I have a drive home ahead of me," I reminded her with a chuckle.

"Right, right," she replied. "Forgot." But neither of us moved. The spell of this moment, this quiet, shared vulnerability, was too strong.

I felt the floor vibrate slightly as she shifted. I turned my head, and the world swam for a second before settling. Her eyes were on the ceiling, fixated on it for some apparent reason.

"How're you feeling?" I asked, my voice barely there.

"A little lighter," she admitted. "And very, very dumb. I can't believe I just told you all that and I'm not even drunk yet."

"Not even a little bit," I asked in awe.

"It was only four shots, lightweight." The insult landed softly, like a feather.

"Only four shots of liquid fucking fire," I argued back with no heat. My face felt like it was glowing. I brought a hand up and touched my own cheek. It was hot.

She laughed, that genuine, breathy sound that I was starting to crave. "Yeah, maybe. But still." Then, a moment of silence. We were both just existing on her floor, swimming in secrets and 80s sad-girl synth-pop. "I trust you."

A humongous knot was pulled from my stomach by a single, small thread. She trusted me. My drunken, guilty heart swelled with a warmth I was not at all prepared for. I wanted to be a person who deserved that trust. I wasn't sure I knew how. "I won't tell anyone," I promised again, the words a heavy, serious weight.

Her face softened. "I know." A beat, two. "Minjae."

"Hm?"

"Can I... ask something else? Something a little selfish?"

"Go ahead," I offered freely. I felt like I would offer her almost anything right now, sitting in the glow of this unspoken thing.

"Can we just stay like this for a while?" she whispered into the quiet room. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the raw emotional honesty, or the exhaustion from the week weighing me down. But whatever it was, something in me decided, right then and there, to just stay put for tonight. My mind had made the decision for me.

"Yeah," I murmured, closing my eyes. "I think I'd like that."

She made a small, contented noise in the back of her throat. Another shift, slight, on her side of the floor. Then again. Haerin readjusted herself to lay closer, just a few inches closer to me. Even if there was still distance between us, this felt closer. I could feel the gentle warmth of her presence next to me. I opened my eyes as I looked towards her direction. She was still staring up at the ceiling, her lashes casting delicate shadows in the dim light.

"This is nice," she sighed softly after another minute.

"Mhm," was all I could manage to reply.

"Thank you," She whispered then. "For listening."

"Always," The word was automatic.

"Would it be cool to paint something on my ceiling?"

"Probably. What would your parents say?"

"Who cares, it's my ceiling."

"True. Paint my face up there, so you have to see me every morning when you wake up."

A soft, startled laugh from her. "You'd haunt my dreams."

"Oh, well, that can't the worst thing, can it?" I said lazily.

"How would Chaewon feel if I put you on my ceiling?"

I chuckled, "You're right. That might not be the best idea."

She laughed again.

We stayed there for what felt like a long, long stretch of time. A comfortable, unguarded silence. The record had ended a while ago, and the only sounds were our soft breathing and the hum of my brain slowly rebooting. I should go. I really, really should. But my body felt rooted to her floor.

"My legs are going to fall asleep." She eventually grumbled into the quiet. I let out a low chuckle.

"And here I thought you wanted this to last forever." Another small laugh from her, then an ungraceful groan as she stretched her legs up into the air.

"What are you going to do once I leave?" I asked, the alcohol making my words softer than I intended.

"Dunno," She let her legs fall back onto the floor with a soft thud. "Probably go back to studying?"

"I'm not surprised."

"I'm not stressed anymore." she said thoughtfully.

"That's good."

"Thanks for coming over. I needed this."

"I needed this too."

"Oh, I bet. Are you going to go back to trying to study when you get home?" She teased.

I let out a heavy sigh. "I should try." I pushed myself onto my elbow, the world tilting slightly before it settled. "But that's probably a waste of my four shots of vodka." I attempted to push myself fully to get up. A dizzy wave of vertigo hit me, black spots swam across my vision. I put a hand flat on the cool wood floor to steady myself. "Knocking out feels really good right now."

"Oh." It was just a small sound from her. She pushed herself up from her lying position, her movements still fluid and sober, which was deeply unfair. She sat cross-legged, looking down at my pathetic attempts to get off her floor without passing out. "I said before that drinking helps me study. Maybe it'll work for you," She offered a small smile.

"You're a machine."

She shrugged, a gesture of feigned nonchalance, "Just give it a try and don't look so sad about it."

She stuck her hand out, the pinky extended towards me, "Promise me?" I looked at her little finger, the offer hanging in the space between us.

I hooked my own pinky around hers, ignoring the jolt that shot up my arm. For the second time tonight. "Okay. I promise."

Our pinkies separated. "Try your hardest too, don't just give up because you feel like it. I expect you to know everything when I see you in class Wednesday." There was a light playfulness in her tone now.

"Yes, ma'am." I said with a sarcastic salute that made my head spin.

I finally succeeded in planting my feet, and Haerin was there, a steadying presence. She put a light but firm hand on my upper arm, pulling me the last bit of the way until I was standing, swaying slightly like a newborn calf. We were close. The vague scent of her shampoo, that clean, airy floral, cut through the lingering vodka fumes.

"Alright, there you go," She let go of my arm, and I felt a pang of cold where her warmth had been. She backed up a step. "I'll see you out."

The walk from her bedroom to the front door felt like the longest journey of my life. Her house, with its neat, curated perfection, seemed to tilt and swim around me. I kept a hand on the wall for balance. Haerin walked beside me, a calm, steadying presence that was both a comfort and a stark reminder of my own sloppy, intoxicated state.

Thankfully, her parents were nowhere to be seen. Probably in their room already as I noticed outside was dark. I wasn’t exactly being discreet about what we’ve drank so maybe it was a good thing they weren’t here to see me off.

"Be careful," She said, her hand resting on the doorknob of the front entrance.

"I'll try not to get pulled over," A weak joke. I pulled my shoes on, my movements fumbling and slow. Once I stepped out onto her porch, the cool night air felt glorious on my hot face. Sobering. Almost too much so.

"Okay," she said, standing in the doorway. She was half-hidden by shadow, the warm light from the house silhouetting her. "Goodnight, Minjae. Study hard," she said with a quiet but clear affection in her tone. She stepped out with me, onto her porch, looking at me as if to see me off until my car. The street lamps cast a soft glow on her face as we made our silent, albeit strange, eye contact through the darkness.

She stepped even closer, her next moves catching me entirely off-guard as her arms wrapped loosely around my neck. Then another one to bring me to a small hug, the movement so small but the impact so large on me, causing me to go completely stiff in her arms. Her hair tickled my cheek, that same floral scent washing over me. Her small body against mine, not holding me tightly, but just resting there. It was brief, maybe three seconds long.

"Thanks for being the best friend I could ever have." She said into my ear softly.

Then it was over. She pulled back, her face a mask of casual composure.

My heart hammered against my ribcage, my drunken brain struggling to process what had just happened. She let go, stepping back into the safety of her doorway, her hands clasped behind her back. My brain was a fuzzy static of vodka, confession, and the lingering feel of her hands on my neck.

"Night, Haerin," I managed to croak out. The world was spinning again as I turned and walked towards my car on wobbly legs. She stayed in the doorway. I could feel her eyes on me the entire way. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trying to escape its cage. I didn't look back.

Driving home was a nightmare. My focus was shot, split between the road, the rearview mirror, and the screaming match in my head. Every set of headlights was a cop, every tail light a brake I had to slam. Her story, her pain, played on a loop behind my eyes, intertwined with the sharp, guilty knowledge of my own secrets. The hug. Best friend. The guilt of Chaewon. It was all coming to a boom.

By some miracle of a guardian angel with alert eyes, I made it home in one piece. Stumbling through the front door of my dorm, the room was blessedly dark and silent. My bed was a siren's call. My head hit the pillow with a soft thud, fully clothed, my body heavy with exhaustion and poison. I didn't even try to fight the blackness that pulled me under.

But my brain, traitorous, overworked thing that it was, had other plans.

It replayed everything.

The smell of her room. The taste of the liquid fire vodka. The crackle of her father's old records. Haerin's quiet, trembling voice, telling me everything. The look of her face as she wiped away a tear. The image of her small fists, clenched in her lap.

"Best friend."

Fuck, I did made her a promise didn't I? I groaned as I pushed myself from the comfortable nest of my covers. Somehow, I was properly seated at my desk, staring blankly at the reading material I just couldn't bring myself to read earlier. Haerin's belief in me was a tangible thing, I wanted to make her proud.

So I sat there. For another two hours, in the dark, I forced words to stay on the pages. The concepts started to stick, just as she predicted. The logic of a slightly drunk brain finally clicking into gear, a weird, temporary focus born from the pressure to keep a promise. At three in the morning, I collapsed back into bed, my mind a fog of exhaustion, vodka, and textbook highlights, finally shutting off.

Man, this chapter is finally here! I believe for the past year and a half, I had the idea of Haerin's past done out. It's been sitting there for so long and I kept yearning for the day I finally get to write it out. This chapter hits so good for me, I think I was able to hit the emotional beats that I wanted to. I just wanted to be able to write a setting/situation that drags you in and makes it feel so intimate and warm! I found myself putting myself into the shoes of Minjae many times during the draft of this chapter, and I have to admit I was totally engrossed!

Anyways, it is with this chapter that I have to announce. We are 10 chapters away from the end of this story! What?! I know, but this story has to come to a end, and the story of Hwang Minjae and his friends plus etc. will soon be completed. It's been a long ride for me, and honestly a personal accomplishment because who in their right mind would write a 500,000+ word story about stealing underwear? I never thought I would build such a world like this and for people to be able to look in and appreciate the work I've been doing, wow, it's a feeling I can't really describe. I don't know if anyone here is into anime, but Chainsaw Man Pt. 2 just ended today, and I have the same melancholy feeling reading it and announcing that I'm almost done with 'Idolized Panties'. 

Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for reading 'Idolized Panties' and giving me the drive to write this story for you to enjoy! I love you, and everyone - PI