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“Wonyyyyyy~~,” Jiwon slurs, throwing her arm over Wonyoung’s shoulder.
It's a typical Friday night for Wonyoung. She's dragged herself out to a frat house to socialize herself after locking herself away for the whole week. Her parents always tell her that it isn't healthy to lock yourself away in solitary. They tell her that isolation is torture to the human heart.
But, they've never met Kim Jiwon; she is torture to her own heart.
Jiwon leans in—her blond hair tickling her exposed collarbone, nose pressing directly against her temporal bone, whispering loudly into her ear, “I missed you.”
She throws the blonde’s arm off her, “Stop it, Jiwon,” she states, her voice trembling but firm.
“Nooooo…” the younger girl attempts to hook her again. Wonyoung easily dodges. “Come on… I reallyyyy miss you. One more night. Please.”
“You always say one more night,” Wonyoung replies, harsher than intended. “It’s always your excuse. I can’t keep doing this. You have him. He’s looking for you.”
“He’s nothing to me. You know you are everything to me.”
Wonyoung ignores the girl. She pivots and attempts to dodge around the crowded sweaty frat living room.
She has always hated it here. She hates how sticky the floors always seem to be. She hates how obnoxiously loud the music was. She hates how hot and humid the room feels. She hates the people here. She hates that Jiwon always seems to find her in this house and her nights end the exact same way each time. She hates how this house causes her to spend the next morning in despair.
Yet, she can’t stop coming every weekend.
“Wonyoung.” Jiwon calls for her. She can barely hear it over the 808 bass vibrating the entire house. Jiwon is shamelessly shoving everyone trying to get in between herself and Wonyoung.
Wonyoung pauses. She could never stop the house’s destiny, no matter how hard she tries.
When she catches up, Jiwon throws her arms around Wonyoung again; but this time, Wonyoung wouldn’t try to escape or fight it. She can never escape.
The events progress as scheduled, as it has been every weekend. No delay. No hesitation. No missed event.
First, Jiwon grabs her hand and leads her out of the asylum she dreads—the one she can't ever figure out how to escape alone.
Once outside, they catch a taxi to Wonyoung’s apartment. Wonyoung doesn’t even have to say a thing, Jiwon knows her address by heart at this point and mumbles it to the tired driver.
The ride is always silent. Jiwon holds her hand tightly while counting the streetlights that pass them. Wonyoung merely stares at their hands joined together, starting to feel numb.
Once they arrive, they call for the elevator. Wonyoung doesn’t lift a finger; Jiwon already has pressed the button to her floor. Wonyoung reaches for her keys in her purse while Jiwon rubs her back—with the intent to be encouraging, but only makes Wonyoung feel less alive. Once the door opens, the two of them kick off their shoes by the entryway and strip off each article of clothing as they approach Wonyoung’s room.
They fall into bed and Wonyoung's memory blacks out.
The next morning, she holds Jiwon tightly in her arms. During the early moments, she imagines a reality where she gets to wake up every morning next to Jiwon. Though, once Jiwon opens her eyes, her fantasy is shattered.
They don’t acknowledge anything from the night before. They both have learned each other’s habits just enough to complete their morning routines in complete silence. Jiwon brushes her teeth, while Wonyoung showers; they swap roles without exchanging a word. They do their makeup next to each other in the mirror; Jiwon uses Wonyoung’s products, and Wonyoung forces her brain to not think too deeply about it. Wonyoung sits on her bed while she waits for Jiwon to finish getting dressed; she always emerges wearing Wonyoung’s favourite blue striped button-up—completely undone. Wonyoung turns away to give Jiwon privacy, but sneaks a peek at the bra she discarded without second thought the night before. She tries to suppress the memories that leak through into her mind from the night before.
Once Jiwon is finished. The two of them walk out of Wonyoung’s apartment and into the elevator where Jiwon pushes the button for the parkade. Then, they enter Wonyoung’s car, and Wonyoung drives her back to her own apartment.
No words are exchanged. After the second time, they have treated this routine like a ritual—never changing a step, never forgetting a step, never exchanging any words to each other. A ritual that provides Wonyoung with absolutely nothing.
The drive back is always silent. Wonyoung’s mind drifts back to replay the sounds Jiwon made as she came undone with her hands the night previously. The sounds play in her mind as she drives down the mundane road towards Jiwon’s place. Jiwon counts the streetlights that pass by between Wonyoung’s and her own apartment—her body turned away from Wonyoung and instead towards the window.
Once the dreaded dull grey building appears in the distance—Wonyoung always thought it looked like a prison. Wonyoung pulls up towards the rundown curb—the one Jiwon complains rarely about how the city isn’t ever coming to repair it. They just sit there. Neither moving, nor saying anything. They both look straight out towards the street in front of them—waiting for the other to say anything. Jiwon always breaks the silence after a minute.
“You are always really good in bed, Wonyoung. I enjoyed it. Thank you,” she says, never looking her in the eye, before she opens the door to leave back to her ordinary life chained to her ordinary boyfriend. Once the door slams behind her, Wonyoung starts her car and drives down the mundane road back to her apartment.
Once she’s back, she lays in her bed, savouring the lingering smell of Jiwon in her sheets. She falls back asleep imagining Jiwon in her arms, a tear falling from her eyes as she realizes how her fantasy will never come true.
She knows she’ll never be able to escape the ever-so-enchanting Jiwon. They’ll do this all again next weekend—they always do, but she can’t help but let herself linger in misery, missing her like a lover who's gone off to war.
The enigma that is Jiwon has stolen her heart and she knows it, that’s why she can never escape and why Jiwon keeps coming to her. She knows Jiwon has a boyfriend—she frankly feels a tinge of sadness for the poor guy—but it doesn’t stop her from selfishly indulging in Jiwon every weekend.
Jiwon once told her that she met her boyfriend during her literature class during her first year: they have been dating ever since that day. She curses the angel up above whose task it was to set them up.
Wonyoung met Jiwon too late at their frat party during both of their second years. Wonyoung wasn’t very tipsy when they met, but Jiwon was completely plastered. She tripped into Wonyoung’s arms, and the rest became history from there.
At first, she didn’t know anything about Jiwon—all she knew was that the blonde girl was all over her and exactly her type. It wasn’t until the next morning—the start of her sentance—where Jiwon had a breakdown over her guilty consciousness as soon as she opened her eyes. Wonyoung comforted her, but how could you comfort a girl who cheated on her boyfriend that you didn’t know about until she started freaking out?
Since then, they’ve never acknowledged his presence in her life.
She sometimes wonders if Jiwon is still seeing her boyfriend during their nights together. How could a girl who felt so guilty about cheating on her boyfriend the first night together come running back to her every weekend without crying? She wonders if they were having problems in their relationship—sometimes she prays they have broken up.
But, she sees Jiwon often with her boyfriend on campus. They were often spotted at cafes sharing a dessert or sitting on a bench with his strong arms wrapped around her small frame. He was taller than her, lanky, and exactly what she imagined as the kind of person Jiwon would fall for. They acted like a cute young couple completely in-love with each other; she couldn’t understand why Jiwon continues entertaining their toxic routine. He didn’t deserve this. He seemed sweet, charming, and loving—everything a girl wants in a guy.
But, she’s not a good person. That’s why she couldn’t care less about him. That’s why she doesn't have the strength to walk away from Jiwon every encounter they’ve had.
She wants her to leave him for her.She wants him to find out one day, blow up at Wonyoung for tainting his saint of a girlfriend. She wants him to end up heartbroken over the discovery. She wishes so selfishly for it to happen.
She also wonders what she has that he doesn’t. What keeps Jiwon coming back to her each weekend? She has zero clue. Maybe a small part of her doesn't ever want to find out why.
Wonyoung tries everything to stay away, but the strings pull her towards the dreaded frat house—like a moth to a flame. She was cursed with a lifetime imprisonment to the worn-down smelly house. It felt like a purgatory she was destined to stay in for a long time. When she ends up pressed against her usual wall with a mysterious concoction in her hand.
Jiwon shows up right on time. She walks in with her friends—the same friends she sees every weekend but has never found out their names. The quartet girls b-line to the kitchen as soon as they walk in for drinks. They share a tequila shot together before they break away to mingle around the room. From there, Jiwon sneaks her way towards her like they’re chained together. Jiwon doesn’t make contact though. She always lingers around, dancing to the odd electronic music that causes the base to vibrate through Wonyoung’s fragile body. Wonyoung always watches from her spot.
Once Jiwon has finished her drink, she makes her way to Wonyoung, where she slurs her words a little too dramatically; Wonyoung knows she hasn’t had much to drink but always pretends she has—she’s unsure of why.
“Wonyyyy~” she slurs cutely. Her name feels like poison in her ears, but Wonyoung is completely addicted to the pain of it. And it all happens again. And again.
And again.
The cycle is never ending.
Until one night, everything flips upside down.
She’s standing at her usual spot, drink in hand, waiting for her to show up. She nurses her drink at the same pace she has every other weekend.
But, once Jiwon walks in, she’s not just with her friends.
He swaggers in, arms wrapped arrograntly around Jiwon’s slender shoulders—the same soft creamy ones she was fantasizing about moments earlier. He dulls the shine from Jiwon. They both b-line to the kitchen to get Jiwon’s typical drink—a shot of tequilla and the frat-special mystery mix. Jiwon takes the shot smoothly, while he chokes and gags—clearly an amature.
From there, they both head towards Wonyoung. She isn’t sure if she should run or just stay in place; all she knows is she can’t move. Jiwon dances with him. To the same odd electronic music that vibrates under Wonyoung’s skin. She dances with him like no one else is in the room. Everyone else moves out of the young couple’s way, making a clear line of sight for Wonyoung’s eyes to be tortured with.
Jiwon hasn’t acknowledged her presence—clearly too enthralled with him to notice her. It hurt a bit, but she knew it was coming. Their fantasy had to come to an end someday—she just wasn’t ready for it to end this quickly. She watches them, her body growing hotter, her mind spinning a little faster, and her hands trembling a little more than she usually does.
The sight gets too much for Wonyoung. She finds the strength to push herself off the wall and out of the room. She steps out the front door, the air feeling refreshing. Her body feels fine once the cool night air hits her. Her hands unfamiliarly open an app on her phone—calling for her own taxi. Her head feels lighter, her ears start to ring, her chest feels like it's pulling her back towards the house. Her body is telling her to go back; but, she sits on the curb—subbornly waiting for the taxi to arrive.
She counts the cars that drive by, trying to distract her numbing mind. Each one that passes, her head pounds more and her chest feels tighter. She can hear the faint sound of the bass rumbling through the cracks of the house, bouncing in her ear. Her thoughts drift to Jiwon—dancing with her boyfriend and suddenly she feels a river of tears streaming down her cheeks.
How pathetic. Crying over a girl. A girl she has always known from the beginning that was taken. A girl she foolishly thought she could have something with.
Patrons from the frat house stumble upon her on the curb. They look with concern but none of them initiates contact. They observe her like a zoo animal—feeling a tinge of remorse but making no effort to change her fate. She knows her fate, they know her fate, no one can save her from her fate.
Once the taxi pulls up, she forces her jelly-like legs to stand up. Her toes tingle, and her muscles freeze up—refusing to uncontract from her position. Like the devil in her nightmare, Jiwon runs up from behind her. She doesn't have to look to know it’s her. She can feel her heart squeeze painfully harder as Jiwon’s footsteps grow closer.
“Wony.” The sound of her name coming from her mouth sounded like a key to her prison, “Wait. Where are you going?” She sounded sober.
Wonyoung doesn’t respond. She uses all her effort to reach for the door, to finally escape alone; but her devil grips her—so close.
Her hand grips the handle of the door, pulling it open for her. Wonyoung admits defeat easily, crumbling like a sandcastle once standing so proudly, and lets Jiwon pull her into the taxi. Jiwon mumbles their address and the driver nods. She feels the car vibrate and begin to move. She can feel her brain beginning to numb again. She fights to keep herself present.
Jiwon grabs her hand, comforting her already distorted mind. Jiwon counts the street lights. Wonyoung stares blankly at her side-profile—unsure if any of this is real. Her body is physically in the car, her mind is watching helplessly—fighting to escape this purgatory.
The car stops abruptly, sending the two girls forward—stopped by their seatbelts, but it reawakens Wonyoung’s mind. The driver hits the gas again—like nothing happened. But, he rewrote the ending to this night.
Wonyoung suddenly feels her heart beginning to thump louder than a drummer in a metal band; banging so loudly her ears hurt. She's suddenly hyperaware of the feeling of Jiwon’s hand on hers, sensitive to every little twitch and pulse radiating off of the clueless blonde girl. Her hand loosens and she twitches her fingers.
Jiwon breaks her focus on the streetlamps to look back at her, confusion flooded her face. Her head tilts, eyes questioning Wonyoung’s confidence. Wonyoung challenges her stare—refusing to back down.
Jiwon turns back to the window, her hand finally letting go of Wonyoung’s. Her wrist feels sore—like it had been cuffed—but she feels free.
Once the driver reaches her apartment, the two girls hop out. Jiwon leads the way towards the lobby door, but Wonyoung lingers behind—no longer bound to the blonde girl. Jiwon raises an eyebrow when she can't feel Wonyoung behind her.
Wonyoung’s feet are planted firmly on the curb. She's determined to change the night.
Jiwon shrugs. She simply enters the lobby, leaving Wonyoung to marinate in the frisk night air. She can see her blonde hair through the glass, standing at the elevator. Her legs freeze up, but her chest feels like it's going to explode. She has to stay strong—value herself over the girl who wants nothing to do with her and with a stupid boyfriend. But when her legs begin to ache badly, and she can no longer withstand the pressure building up in her chest, she walks into the lobby—next to her again.
The elevator door opens, her body pulls herself into it. Jiwon presses the button. They stand silently, staring blankly at the metallic doors.
The door opens to reveal the dreaded ending to Wonyoung’s nightmare. Wonyoung unlocks the door like a habit she could never break on her own. Before she can hesitate, Jiwon pulls her in, sealing her fate for good.
She wakes the next morning, a tear already resting on her cheek. Her body feels horrible—heavy, guilty, tired, angry. She feels paralyzed. Her soul is bleeding out of her, pooling underneath onto the bedsheets Jiwon once bought for her. Jiwon rolls over to wrap an arm around her; she feels like she's going to vomit, but she’s too exhausted to fight back.
Jiwon gets up. She continues to lay, praying her body will decompose fast enough to disappear before Jiwon is finished in the bathroom. Instead, she blinks blankly, wondering where she went wrong—regretting the night she and Jiwon met.
Reality hits her harder than before. She loves somebody else. Her mind spins wildly. Her body gives up: the tears flow freely, her chest pounds loudly, her lungs constrict tightly. Her ears ring, her mind clouded with everything and nothing.
Jiwon’s voice cuts through the fog clouding her ears like a lighthouse. She bids a simple goodbye. Wonyoung hasn't moved from her position since she got up, but she doesn't acknowledge that. The sound of her sweet voice makes the tears gush out harder; she hasn't heard that sweet voice in weeks.
She hears the door slam, sealing her coffin shut for good. She's returning back to her boyfriend. Her fate remains that she will always be second to her boyfriend and nothing will ever change that.