The ticking of the clock as the thinnest hand of the hour rotates clockwise was magnified by the silence that followed their previous conversation.

Ryujin had just said the last word of her "funny story" a little over a minute ago, and as it hung out in the air heavily, the older girl found it difficult to follow through; she, herself, wasn't really the funniest person to begin with. 

She racked her brain, which she believes to be only capable of storing a little over two megabytes worth of information, for some childhood stories she could impart to the younger for quick laughs, but the ticking in her brain as anxiety overcomes her thoughts physically manifested into her staring at Ryujin wide-eyed with becoming parched and her lips becoming dryer as each tap on the clock synchronized with her brain.

Just as the shorter hand of the hour ticked at exactly the 3/4 quarter of the round vessel, Chaeryeong came back holding two glasses of milk; one was warm, and the other was smeared with tiny droplets of water as it condensed from the cold.

The two was bewildered at the sight for two entirely different reasons; the raven haired girl had her left eyebrow taller than the right as her thoughts raced in between why are there two? and why are they both warm and cold? while the blond had a simpler question in mind—where are the cookies?

The middleman set both glasses on the white carpeted floor as she ushered Ryujin to sit on the same plane she and Yeji were on.

The blond was quick to her tongue as she had those four words rolling out of in no time, to which the youngest retorted with, "I was just about to get it. I warmed up some milk first."

Chaeryeong wasn't able to huff a breath when the shorter girl shortly followed through, "Why are you bringing two milks," She eyed both glasses on the puffy carpeted floor, "—at two different temperatures in the first place?"

The hazelnut haired girl closed her eyes in impatience, and slight derailment.

She wondered why she even took the time to cater to both of their annoying asses.

"Because," She huffed a tight breath, "You," She pointed at Yeji, "wouldn't dunk and eat whatever kind of sweets I offer unless it's in borderline freezing territory,"

The cat-eyed girl puffed her cheeks in response.

Chaeryeong knows her like the back of her hand, and she mentally queried why she was being subjected to a three-person public humiliation in the first place? She wasn't the one questioning why there were two glasses to begin with.

Ryujin snorted, and Chaeryeong was quick to avert the attention from her best friend with puffy cheeks to the other occupant in the room, "And you—" She squinted her eyes, and Yeji swears she saw red laser beams projecting from the brown in her eyes, "You don't even like milk, so why are you questioning my preferences?"

Chaeryeong: 2, Yeji & Ryujin: 0

As soon as the youngest of the three came back finally holding in her right hand the subject of Yeji's questioning from earlier, she plopped down on the ground and opened the rectangular plastic encasement that held brown circular sweets topped with little dollops of hardened semi-sweet chocolate inside.

Yeji was quick to grab a piece, and the shortest playfully shook her head in response as she physically fights the small smile growing on her cherry lips before picking the cookie beside the empty space where the former's choice previously harbored.

She watches as the girl beside her quickly hums a playful tone as soon as the first bite hit her tongue, and she closes her eyes as if limiting your field of vision enhances the taste of whatever food is in your mouth.

She has never seen someone light up over a piece of cookie.

She traced the her defining features with her eyes, subtly, of course. She wouldn't want to be caught staring at a girl eating a cookie as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Ryujin never really looked at Yeji up close enough to notice the little details—like how her right eye is just microscopically a little bigger than the left; and how she has this habit of biting the lower flesh of her lip when she's a little confused or a little out of words.

She got too engrossed at figuring out little details that she failed to engage in the conversation the two girls were having because, as of the moment, all she knows is that she's carefully watching the girl beside her, and how that girl has a tiny dimple on the left of her cheek that ever so slightly indents when her eyes disappear into crescent moons.

She tightly compresses her lips into a straight line, and she bites the insides of to suppress the smile ragingly fighting its way through her lips for the longest time that day.

She mentally thanks her earlier self for coming here, and for fighting her way through morning hangover and last night's emotional dilemma, because this was the first time she was able to feel something other than self-pity for the last forty-eight hours.

She traps the single piece of cookie in between her lips, and she absentmindedly fiddles with the loose prickly skin around the edge of her nails.

The hem of her left striped long sleeve had enough beating from being twiddled all night, and she heaves a quiet sigh as her left arm throbbed in pain.

Tsk.



 

————



 

"Who was that girl you dated again?," Her ears finally picked up words coming from other sources other than her thoughts, "It starts with D, or was it N?" Yeji's voice was inquisitive.

Chaeryeong laughs, "I'm not telling you," she adds "It's not my business if you forgot,"

"Not fair!" The blond had her eyes wide, "I'm trying to remember, ugh, why was I cursed with so little brain cells capable of actually remembering,"

"Well, all I remember was she was manipulative, possessive as hell, and, you know what?" Chaer shrugs her shoulders, "I'm saying it, she's crazy."

"Oh my god," Yeji blurts out like she just had a eureka moment, "Crazy baby girl,"

The two younger girls stared at her like she was a madman discovering fire, "Crazy baby girl?" They both replied at the same time. 

"Yeah," The blond nods her head with smug written all over her face, "That's what I call girls fitting the description you just said,"

"So," Chaer treads her words in careful sequence, "My ex is a crazy baby girl because well, she's crazy, manipulative, demanding, and capricious?"

"Exactly," Yeji chortled, "You know those kind of girls who would hold a knife over you for replying a second too late?" She questions, "Crazy baby girl."

"Well, Ryujin's exes would be Psychotic baby girls then," Chaer laughs as she averts the attention to the raven haired girl,

Ryujin had her eyes protruding, and coughing as the crumbs from the cookie in between her lips suddenly traveled down the wrong tube for how hard she had to gasp, "What exes are you talking about?" She shoots Chaeryeong a look,

The hazeulnut haired girl laughed boisterously, and Yeji had a quizzed look on her face.

She never knew Ryujin dated girls.

"I never had exes," She shot in defense, "My precious heart is a ," She palms the space where her heart resides, "Never been touched,"

The corner of Yeji's brain where her little memories resided suddenly pulled an Einstein, and her mind darts back to the days and nights where she habitually checked on Ryujin's blue bird timeline.

She remembers that one time she changed her icon into a man's selfie, whom Yeji found the identity out a little while later through what she calls expert stalking.

Yeonjun Choi.

The newcomer, and a class nerd from what Yuna had described to her previously.

That's it, Yeji mentally high fives herself for remembering.

"Didn't you date that Yeonjun guy?" She carefully asks.

She wouldn't want Ryujin bolting at her especially if she had just revealed something very personal, but what personal? She asks herself; they were all over twitter.

Ryujin shot her a look of grimace, her brows are knitted in serious indignation, "No?" She answers as if the blond had just asked something so crude, and far-fetched.

Chaeryeong immediately joins in Yeji's accusation, "You definitely dated him," Her voice still laced with laughter from her previous reply.

The raven haired girl waves her hand in dismissal, "It wasn't serious," She tries explaining, "He just tried to court me and , look—" She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Chaeryeong, you really think I would like a man?" Her face twisted in further discomposure,

"No," The other girl lays out flat, "That's why it's funny, seeing you pretend like that on social media and in person,"

Yeji, on the other hand, watched the two exchange banter. She really wasn't sure if she was allowed to hear the information being laid out in the open like that.

Ryujin had just indirectly come out to her, though she really wasn't surprised. She always had an inclination that she at least liked girls, if not entirely.

"The point is, I'm not the person you should be putting on the hot seat right now," She quickly diverted, "She could be the crazy baby girl stuff for all I know," She turns her head to where the blond was,

She was taken aback; that was the second time Ryujin directly addressed her presence.

"Me?" The person of interest asks incredulously, "Excuse me, but I second the motion," She held her chin on a higher degree, as if asserting dominance, "My heart is a virign," She copied, "Never been touched,"

Ryujin playfully scowled in assertion, "Never been touched my ," She rolled her eyes as she intensely bore her gaze unto the girl beside her, "You dated my best friend?" She said as a matter-of-factly,

It was Yeji's turn to burst into sheepish laughter as she playfully returned the other girl's gaze with the same intensity.

She has been holding her own in comparison to when she would feel intense timorousness from the exchange, but just like all the other times, she always finds herself getting lost in the other's dark alluring orbs.

It was playful jesting—the way Ryujin had decided to approach the blond in tonight's juncture and the latter felt like something was dislodged, or misplaced; it felt unnatural because all their previous encounters always ended with words laid out and left hanging in the air,

She thought that was innate nature of their budding relationship—the raven haired girl responding in silence, or finding new ways to get on her already impatient nerves.

She thinks something was definitely off, in a good way because Ryujin was responding in actual sentences, and the oddity of this current occurrence sparked a newfound courage in her to meet the latter in the same wavelength.

So, she stared—bravely, boldly, valiantly.

She always noticed that her eyes were the most expressive part of her being.

It fascinated the blond to great extent for how much she understood and learned with so little to no words exchanged between them because amidst the intensity of the situation, she discovered more than she had if she resorted to asking Ryujin directly—her eyes were telling; they were kind, searching and gentle.

Then, something flickered against the brown in the latter's orbs, and Yeji would have missed it if she had blinked for a millisecond.

They were different.

Her eyes... she couldn't figure out what changed. 

 

————



 

"Touché," Chaeryeong side commented, "You weren't really witty enough to declare that in front of Ryujin."

The exchange of quips and persiflage came to an abrupt end when the vibration quickly followed by the ringing of a phone cut through the four walls of the room.

Ryujin immediately palms her pockets for signs of the object emitting tacky high pitched music which Yeji soon recognized to be the theme of GoT, just in 8bit version.

She quickly got up on her feet and searched under the fluffy pillows of the brunette's bed, and excused herself as soon as she got a hold of the device.

She swiped right on her screen, and quickly mouthed a sentence to the two girls occupying the room, signalling that she would be taking the call outside for awhile.

"So—" Yeji started, "She's kinda okay,"

It has only been a little over five minutes since the raven haired girl's presence left the room.

"I told you," Chaeryeong glanced up, "She's just a little bit difficult at first," She paused for a while, "She just needs a bit of warming up before she decides if she wants to be social and stuff,"

The cat-eyed girl nodded slowly, curiosity still hanging at the back of her head, "I didn't know you two were that close,"

Chaeryeong pursed her lips in thought, "I actually didn't expect anything from her, you know, because if you look at it from an outsider's point of view, we really aren't the type to vibe,"

"—but," The brunette continued, "After getting to know her for a while, I found out we had some similarities, and by some, I meant a whole lot," She softly smiled,

"Like, being attracted to girls?" Yeji commented cheekily,

"That was definitely the common ground," Chaeryeong laughs, "I remember her entering the room for the first time, and my gay radar pinged so loud if it was physically a thing, everyone would have went deaf,"

Yeji laughed because even though she believes her gay radar was close to being non-existent, she definitely had hers pinging at Ryujin too.

"She had me fooled to be honest," The blond intrigued, "She and that Yeonjun guy were so public, I blamed my gaydar for malfunctioning,"

The brunette laughs at the memory of the older's previous accusation, "She really did a good job at fooling anyone but herself,"

The blond shot her a look, "You aren't so different yourself, you did that to us before you suddenly showed up with a girlfriend,"

The younger had her hands up in the air, "Hey, like I said, we had a lot of similarities," She defended, and the cat-eyed girl quickly retorted, "I'm glad she's my replacement then,"

"Noooo..." The brunette said in tiny, "You'll always be the first person I run to," She pauses, "No matter what,"

Yeji scrunched her face in false grimace, to which the younger returned with a swat on the former's left hand, "You seem a little too curious if I say so myself," She shot her an all knowing look,

"You like her, don't you?"

The older girl was gobsmacked at the blunt accusation. She doesn't remember mentioning Ryujin and like, or attraction or any other word bearing the same meaning in one sentence ever since she step foot in her home country.

She was bewildered at how her best friend came to that conclusion, did she have a microchip secretly installed in her brain?

"I know you're wondering why I asked," She blurts out from the lack of answer she received, "But, you don't really ever mention a name twice unless the person had already run a hundred laps around your mind,"

Has Ryujin already run a hundred laps?

"I don't," The blond stated, "At least not in that way, but she interests me to say the least,"

She admits to the growing curiosity, but to the unwarranted attraction? No—at least from what she prefers to believe, for now.

"I mean, if you do," Chaeryeong tries again, "I wouldn't really blame you,"

"What do you mean?" The question was mechanical,

"If she wasn't my friend, and If I didn't know her like the back of my hand," She pauses, hesitation was clear from how she carefully laid out her next words, "I would have definitely fallen for a long time ago,"

"—but," She quickly retracted her statement, "She is, and I do, so I haven't," The blond lifted her eyebrows, urging the younger to continue, "You know, fallen for her,"

Yeji believes she always had a penchant for knowing how things would fall into place because every time she had looked at one thing, her first impressions always came true—like how Yuna impeccably fell for Jisu hard, and how she just knows that it was only time until Chaeryeong's question would become a fact, and at this moment, she wished she hadn't heard what she had just said, because she just knows, she didn't want to choose between two people in the future.

The older girl quizzed her a skittish look, "Sure,"

"No, really," The brunette cemented, "We're bros, no homo," She grimaced at thought of Ryujin and her being romantically involved,

"But in all seriousness, I understood why she did that," Chaeryeong bit the insides of her cheek, "It's difficult being young, and being that confused, you know?"

"Did what?," Yeji had multitude of thoughts running through her mind after what has just transpired,

"You know, her dating that Yeonjun guy," Chaeryeong picks on the tiny crumbs that found their way on the crevices of her carpeted floor,

"I mean we always talk about this, and my heart goes out to her most of the time because I feel like I see my younger self in her, even though we're literally just months apart. I have had more time to figure myself out before she did." The brunette continued, "She's just starting out. She's oblivious, and cheeky, and sometimes a little too sassy, but I would give the world out if it meant lessening whatever turmoil she has brewing inside her,"

The cat-eyed girl had her tongue caught in between her teeth.

She had always read about it in novels, and sometimes she had watched it in movies—the emotional struggle of finding out you are not what the society would want you to be.

She felt like she was treading unknown but familiar territory, and she feels bad for having it a little better than the rest because she never really thought much about who or why she was attracted to certain people.

Yeji at a young age knew she liked girls—pretty girls, cute girls, tall girls, nice girls, older girls; she was inherently attracted to girls.

She knew it was wrong, socially looked down on, but she figured, if she just likes boys, or find the socially construed idea of prince charming before the woman of her dreams sweeps her off her feet, she was good to go.

And partly, she thinks; maybe that was the reason why she wasn't able to love Soobin in the way romantic films have portrayed it.

She doesn't remember raging butterflies when Soobin held her hand, or when he kissed her for the very first time.

She doesn't remember her heart breaking at the sight of Soobin begging on his knees, or being excited when he brought up having kids or getting married.

Instead,

She remembers being nervous, and jittery because she didn't know how to kiss;

She remembers having sweaty palms because Soobin held her hand a little too tight for a little too long;

She remembers feeling guilty because she didn't feel anything at all;

She remembers disliking kids because she doesn't think she would want to be involved in the process of making it;

"We all have that phase, don't we?" Yeji smiled bashfully, "—trying it out on unmindful people first, just so we could get a better hold and understanding of ourselves at the expense of other's emotional well being,"

She feels sick to her stomach again.

"I know," The brunette mirrored her smile, "It's a different struggle," She started , "It's different for all of us, some have it better," She looks at Yeji who in return bites her lips in understandable emotion, "Some have it difficult, and others too difficult," She continued, "I definitely had it bad, but I hope she gets the better end of the stick,"

The blond nods in response. She felt uneasy, and she feels a seed of emotional disquiet slowly and silently plant itself at core of her restless heart, "Was that why she deactivated?"

She hums in vague approval, "I think we all do it," The brunette fixes her hair, "You know, shut down, and wish the world would just disappear at the palm of our hands,"

The older girls smiles wryly in return, "I wouldn't have guessed her for an emotional person if you didn't hint at me," She bites her lower lip,

"Oh, she's a whole mess of emotions," The other girl chuckled sadly, "most the time too much, for her own good," The last words lingered too heavily on the air,

Yeji found herself quietly gasping for air, as if the wind had just gained hulking mass.

"I honestly wish she would give herself some slack," She continued, "but it doesn't take a whole village to guess that she's stubborn as hell,"

She feels insurmountable apprehension lodge at the tips of her fingers, all the way to the depths of her heart and it physically manifested itself into the marrows of her bones as she feels it crushing down on her shoulders.

"So," Chaeryeong says, as if ultimatum was at the tip of her tongue, "Go easy on her, if you can," The last words bear more meaning than she would have ever thought,


 

————


 

She needed to see her.

Because everything she has felt until now was familiar, inherent, supposed.

She was crossing unknown borders and before she had the time to grasp her inner thinking, her heart made a leap of faith and succumbed.

She was mute to the sound of the doors creaking, and her feet led to her to a particular place, to a particular person.

She was searching for it—the beginning, the edge, the start, the origin of whatever reality had her wearing her heart out on her sleeve,

And she found it.

In a dim lit kitchen with the sound of water gushing out of a metal alloy faucet,

She sees it.

As the other girl rolls her sleeves down, and she catches a glimpse of what turns out to be the first of many intrusions,

Lines etched on every corner of her porcelain skin as if they had long found their home in her flesh,

The tinted diluted water on the sink—muted pink red,

She sees the scars, both old and anew,

She hears it calling, as if it had sung in melancholic harmony.

It sung, and she heard.

 

The song of suffering

 

The other girl her heel, and breathed out her first word, "Hi," and she hadn't heard that, never, not after many encounters,

She's back at the beginning, right where it should have started.

The square one.

She stares, and she looks, and she figures it out.

Her eyes—it had already told her what she didn't know earlier.

They were sorrowful, anguished and grieved.

She feels —for the first time, for another person, and she felt, very deeply.

She hurt—for the first time, for someone she barely shared words with.

She had no other worldly explanation, and her mind quickly wandered, searching for the metaphysical.

She has heard of different folklore about fate, how there are people you meet with uncanny attraction and you are compelled to walk away changed.

The promise of fate.

She remembers one in particular, a Chinese folklore—the red string of fate.

She had heard about it since she was young; the invisible thread that connects two people, and it pulls on you in unexpected force, and you are bound to meet irregardless of time, place and circumstance.

It will stretch, and tangle but it will never break.

Is it that one?

She remembers another one, that thing about kindred spirits.

It's written in the heavens since time immemorial; too old to be captured in poems; too old to be grasped by mortality; it is hunted down by many, but it will only come for the chosen, for the few, for the lost souls

Because only a handful will understand each other upon meeting,

Is it that one?

Yeji thinks of it all—all metaphors applicable to what she is feeling but she feels like nothing comes as close to right now, where her heart is beat blue and cold, and she could have read all things about stringed fates, and destined souls but looking at Ryujin barebones, like her heart had been stripped of all good things, doesn't match up to the thundering ache in her heart as she feels the inevitable loom over her,

The lessons her mother had imparted her, about what kind men you should look for, or about what kind of men you should avoid could have been replaying in her mind for a hundred times, but nothing could have had readied her for the sight of Parcae knocking on her doors, in blue jeans, striped white long sleeved shirt, with weary eyes, and bruised fingers .

She has watched them all—the movies that society construed as fairy tales and she had it memorized at the back of her head, how she was supposed to stay adamant until prince charming sweeps her off her feet, with his hollywood rated smile and perfect hair, but hers came in forms of whiskers, sassy attitude, and wounded arms.

She believes Ryujin and her must have been outlaws in their previous lives, or that she had done something tremendously hurtful for the latter because this current lifetime they're living in definitely has Yeji on her knees, repaying whatever she had done before,

and whatever the degree was, the sand timer of destiny mercilessly flipped upside down and as the first speck of dirt traveled it's way down to the bottom of the vessel,

She felt it—like her heart was being scraped from inside out.

She always thought it came in sequence, pieces like methodical progress she was programmed to follow but she was hushed by waves and multitudes of uncertainty; it was griping and it set her heart aflame, doomed to burn for a lifetime

Like the cupid of fate had just shot her with an arrow held back for thousands of years before being propelled from the first lifetime, since time immemorial, all the way to the present,

She bitterly laughs at the thought.

Cupid must have had shot the other one first, forcing her to wallow in unwarranted and indisputable agony, and he watches as the other end of the string wander mindlessly, searching for the missing heart it was set capture,

and it found her, a little too late, in four corners of a room, and now it was her turn, to feel, to share the agony of what has already begun,

She felt it—as the tip of the arrow hit powerfully at the surface of her heart, it cracked and it bore, and the second speck of dust traveled it's way down to the bottom of the vessel,

It bore and it will bore, until all lifetimes are compensated for, until it burned, and until the timer has been flipped countless times,

Until the girl in front of her didn't hurt,

She felt it.

The first heartbreak.

The first out of a thousand.