Heaven

“Here you go sir. Just present this number when you leave the establishment in order to get your phone back.” The woman at the front desk said, as she handed you the small plastic number.

“Thanks!” You replied as you took the number from the lady. 

Most people would be wary of having to surrender your cellphone at the front desk of a bar, but with what happens on the floor, you would understand the heightened security. Unbeknownst to the outside world, Spotlight is a bar exclusive to people in the idol industry. From Idols themselves to their managers and staff, it’s a place where they can go and relax without the fear of the peering eyes of the media, paparazzi, and fans. There is a silent understanding between everyone, from the management of the bar to their patrons, that whatever happens in Spotlight stays in Spotlight. However, this isn't an open invitation for idols to go crazy. The main goal of the bar is for a place for people to chill and relax. If you cause a disturbance, you’re immediately kicked out and banned.

“Jason Hwang? Is that you?”, the 6’5, 300 lbs bouncer clocks you as you enter the bar.

“Hey Don, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”, you greet him like an old friend. 

“It has indeed, your phone’s at the front desk right?” He asks you.

“Yep, same rules as always huh?” You reply. He nods back at you. 

“Alright, just the usual check for audio recording devices, then you can enter. Good to see you back here again.”

Usually, management just hands patrons tape to cover their cameras and trust them to adhere to rules. Fortunately, everybody does. The extra precautions for you are more or less because of your profession. Unlike the usual idols, managers, and staff, you are a renowned journalist, an assistant editor for an international news organization stationed in Korea. Though you are known for your coverage of politics and haven’t covered entertainment in over five years, you understand why they would be more cautious with your patronage. 

As you enter, you start to recognize a few idols all around the floor and in the booths. The people you don’t recognize are probably the managers and staff, either still babysitting their idols or letting off steam themselves. You do see some noteworthy scenes, though it doesn’t matter since you can’t write about them anyway. In one booth, you see the whole of Itzy, with another woman at the end, next to Ryujin. You feel like you’ve seen her before and it seems like she’s dating Ryujin, but you can’t help but notice Yeji looking a little uncomfortable at the other end. In another booth, you see Dahyun with a guy looking like they’re facetiming someone on the phone. The guy seems familiar, but you can’t place him either.

You shake off your writing itch and continue to search the room to look for the reason you’re here in the first place. As you scan the floor and the booths, you finally find her. At the end of the bar, nursing a beer, you see Im Nayeon, your ex-girlfriend. She was wearing a white crop tank top, a varsity jacket, some wide legged jeans, and sneakers. Her cap was on the bar top. It’s been two years since you broke up, but even now she still takes your breath away. You approach her and gently tap her shoulder.

“Hey, Nayeon.” You gently called out to her. She turns to you and smiles as your eyes meet.

“Hey Jay.”, Nayeon replies. “I didn’t think you would show.”

“I had half a mind not to. May I?” you say as you motion to the stool next to her. She nods and you take a seat. There were a few moments of awkward silence, save for you ordering a drink, before you decided to break the ice.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”, you get a chuckle out of her before she takes another sip.

“Two years probably counts for more than a while.” She replies.

You still remember how your relationship ended. Nayeon was preparing for her first solo debut, straight after finishing Twice’s 4th world tour. You already spent months on a long-distance set-up with her abroad, but even in the same country you barely saw her since she was busy with preparations. You’re not absolved of the blame either. A lot was happening in the political landscape, both locally and internationally. It meant that you were just as busy. In the rare moments that she was free and you two were in the middle of a date, you would suddenly get a call from the network to cover a breaking story. She wouldn’t stop you from going, but you can see the disappointment in her eyes as you leave. Eventually the relationship got toxic. At the time, neither of you realized you were bottling up emotions for each other’s sake. Yet as hard as you tried to keep them down, you both unconsciously let some leak out into other aspects of your relationship. Petty squabbles escalated into full-blown arguments, going for days without speaking to each other. You both felt the relationship crumbling apart, but were both too stubborn to admit why. 

With just a month left before her solo debut, you both meet up in Spotlight to talk. After hours of pouring out feelings, near arguments, and some tears, you both mutually came to the understanding that when there’s no time for the relationship, there isn’t one. No matter how mutual the break up was, it still hurt like hell. However, you both knew it was for the best. You got to focus on your assignments and stories, rising through the ranks of the organization eventually becoming the assistant editor you are today. Nayeon had a successful solo debut followed by Twice’s record breaking 5th world tour. 

Most exes probably agree to go no-contact after the break-up, but you were both so busy that you didn’t really have the time to even think about it. Despite the involuntary non-contact, you found ways to keep up with her activities. Whether it was online chatter or news articles on Naver, you were up to date with Nayeon’s successes and stories. You saw that she was thriving. You saw that she was happy. This made the sudden message almost two years later even more perplexing. However, you knew deep inside that you still had feelings for her, and you took this chance to maybe try and get some closure.

“So how was the world tour you just finished? I heard you guys went to more countries compared to the last one.” You asked her, trying to further the conversation.

“Yeah it was great! We even got to perform in stadiums this time!” Nayeon replied. You noticed her face light up talking about the achievement. She was so proud of Twice and herself that she couldn’t stop smiling. And just like before, it was always infectious.  

“The solo stages were a big change for us, but it was exciting performing our own songs in front of our fans.” She added. 

“Speaking of, I know it’s two years late but congratulations on a successful solo debut.”, you quickly blurted out. “I practically heard POP everywhere I went after you released it.” A slight white lie from you, considering you had the album on repeat for a good month. Specifically sunset, which was totally not fueled by your break up.

“It must have been rough hearing your ex’s voice everywhere after a break up, huh?” Nayeon said cheekily. 

“Slightly rougher and a bit ironic considering I heard your voice more after we broke up, compared to when we were actually dating.” you retort with a bit of sarcasm, which was immediately washed away when you saw the guilt overcome her face.

“Oh”, she replies. You can also hear the guilt in her voice. “Sorry.”

“Wait no I didn’t mean it like that.” Seeing her guilty broke your heart, considering that even you weren’t available when you were dating. “It was a stupid joke, I thought we were riffing on each other like we used to.” You hoped that this would lighten her mood, but there was still some guilt lingering on Nayeon.

“No, you have a point though.” She started, “I should have done more to spend more time with you.”

“You know I’m at fault as much as you are.” You replied, trying to reassure her. “I could’ve said no to those sudden assignments.”

“And let your career stagnate? I would never let you do that.”

“It wouldn’t stagnate— wait, what are we doing?” You’re the first to realize what was happening. “We’ve had this discussion already. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah. At the break up.” Nayeon confirms. “I knew this was going to happen. We always end up fighting.”

As much as you wanted to disagree, you’d only be proving her right. Unlike before, you had no reply. No quick witted retort that could lighten the mood. Even with the booming music, the growing silence between you two ate at your thoughts.

“Maybe this was a mistake.” Nayeon spoke again, breaking the silence.

“What was?” You ask her, while playing with your whiskey glass.

“This. Messaging you. Asking you to meet up” She answers.

“If you think this is a mistake, then why did you want to meet up in the first place?” You ask her, genuinely curious.

“I don’t know.” she replies. “Because I thought we could be adults. Because I thought we could catch up, without any baggage. That we could still be friends that share stories with one another. I thought we both bared it all already when we broke up. It looks like I was wrong.” She motions to the bartender to pay her bill.

“Nayeon, wait.” You stop her from pulling out her card. “This wasn’t a mistake.”

She looks at you with a puzzled look. As if questioning whether you remember the disagreement that literally just happened. 

“I didn’t know what you wanted to meet up about, but I still took this chance because I wanted closure.”

Closure. When Nayeon heard that word, it stung her a bit. You both thought the same thing, that whatever needed to be said was already said during the break up. You both thought that you left no stone unturned and bared it all to each other. It seems like both of you still kept some things unsaid.

“I thought we already had closure when we broke up?” She asked, with a hint of pain. Almost as if she was expecting something else.

“I did too.” You answer uneasily, “But I wasn’t being honest, both to you and myself.” You continue playing with the whiskey glass in your hands. Nayeon notices it and knows what it means. You're nervous. 

“I knew we were getting toxic. I knew we were nearing the end of the road. Everything in my life was pointing to our impending break-up. But…” You trail off, unsure whether you should continue.

“But what?” Nayeon asks.

“There was still a little part of me, a part that was buried by all the imminent signs, a part that didn’t want to break up.” When the words left your mouth, you felt a heavy burden disappear from you. For a split second, you were selfish. You didn’t care what the repercussions of the statement would be. Whether the repercussions would be for you or for Nayeon. For that split second, you were free. But the repercussions would sooner make you feel like you’re crashing down.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nayeon asked calmly. Too calm. As if she expected you to confess. Or maybe out of relief knowing that she didn’t have to.

“I didn’t know it yet at the time.” You replied. “Like I said, all the imminent signs were there, going off like sirens. I only realized it weeks later.”

“Didn’t it ever go away?” Nayeon asked. “You should have met other women, Jay. Women who actually had time for you. Women who could have waited up for you on your emergency assignments. They would’ve helped you get over those feelings.”

“It’s not for the lack of trying Nayeon. Yes, I didn’t really meet anyone after you. A few friends tried to set me up on blind dates. But they always made me feel… empty.” You admitted to her. “I was hyper focused on my assignments and articles that I rarely had time for dating. And if I did end up meeting someone, it would feel like something was missing.” When you said that, you noticed her reaction. It was as if she was agreeing with you. 

“How about you?” you proceeded to ask her. “Did you date anyone in the past two years?”

“I guess we were on the same boat.” Nayeon said with a sigh. “The girls did try to set me up with some guys. Other idols, actors. None of them really stuck. Like what you said, they all felt empty. Like something was missing.” She says as she taps on the bar nervously. “Besides, I was busy with the solo debut, the latest tour, and a few albums. Even if they felt empty, I barely had any time to think about them.” She downs a bit of her beer which you think is to calm her nerves. Instead it was for more courage to get through what she needs to say. 

“I need you to know the break up wasn’t easy for me either.” Nayeon continues to confess after another swig of her beer. “Shit, I know we just came back from the tour and I was working on my solo debut, but there was so much uncertainty in my life at that time that I needed the one dependable aspect in my life to stay by my side. So you have no idea how much it hurt when you told me you wanted to break up.”

“Dependable?” you couldn’t help but focus on that one word “Nayeon, we barely had any time for each other. The only thing you could have depended on from me was how I kept getting swept away by last minute assignments whenever we did have free time together.”

“I know, Jay. Believe me I know.” Nayeon retorted. “Despite that, despite all of the times where we left each other hanging, there was a reassuring feeling knowing that when I did go home, I was going home to you.” It seems like finally saying that out loud took a lot of courage, but eventually vocalizing the idea lifted a heavy burden off of her. Despite the both of you managing to finally bear all that you had left towards each other, there was another lull of silence. 

Then it hits you. The uncertainty in her life. Having no one to depend on. You remember the news that broke out a month after Nayeon’s solo. All nine members decided to renew. What followed was a story of them not talking at all about renewing. The realization of what that meant for Nayeon finally crashed into you. Having to imagine her being alone with all those uncertainties, not knowing whether the group she has come to know as a family would still be together, having to carry that all alone after you left her. 

The silence lasts for minutes, with the only break being you asking for a refill of your whiskey after you downed a glass. Just as you got the refill, you downed it again. You were about to say something again. Something that would take all the courage that you could muster. Something that could either be the spark that revives the embers of your relationship, or the final nail in the coffin that would be total and complete closure for the both of you.

“You know,” you started to tell Nayeon, “in the past two years, breaking important stories, climbing up the ladder to assistant editor, I’ve only ever felt fulfilled with my life.”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” Nayeon catches your tone. You catch the worry in her’s.

“Because maybe it is. I knew what I was doing was important. It drove me to be better. But in the end, I didn’t feel happy.” You get through your first confession. “Sure, there were some sparks of happiness with the promotions, the commendations. But they were fleeting. Temporary.” You take another big gulp for the second. “The last time I actually ever felt happy…”

“Jay.” Nayeon wanted to stop you. She knew what you were about to say. 

“It was when I was with you, Nayeon.” Once again, a heavy burden was lifted off of your shoulders. Unconsciously, you found yourself holding her hand. You didn’t know when you started to hold her. You didn’t know what her reaction was. Whether she felt the same way or not.