lavender marriage series (jeno, jaemin, chenle) | IN PROGRESS
Disclaimer: This is a fictional narrative. All characters, even those based on real-life public figures, are portrayed in a fictional context. The events, dialogues, thoughts, and relationships depicted are inventions of the author and do not represent the actual beliefs, actions, or experiences of the real individuals. This work is non-commercial, transformative, and falls under fair use/fan creation guidelines. No defamation or harm is intended.
A perfect marriage lies in trust, love, and a good foundation—but yours is friendship and avoiding actual commitment with a man.
LAVENDER AND LEAD: A GUIDE NOT TO FALL FOR MY HUSBAND
The pressure from your family to get married is slowly wearing you down. Out of all the cousins and siblings you have, you're the last one without a partner. So when you found out Jeno was gay, you proposed that once you turn 27, you would marry one another. Fast forward three years, and you're happily married to your childhood friend, but he's straight and has been voluntarily celibate because he thought you didn't like physical touch.
༯ casts. reader x lee jeno
༯ cw. none
STATUS: in progress
THE ART OF LOOKING MARRIED (WHILE AVOIDING YOUR TYPE)
Your husband is a dedicated, loving man. With your arms hooked into his as you both grace the dining table with his friends, admiring both of you as you make loving eye contact with one another, that definitely does not say, 'that man by the open bar is looking at you, please tell me you're approaching him and getting laid tonight.' Let's just say, Jaemin was entranced with the way you carried yourself, while your husband took his bathroom break, leaving you alone with the handsome man by yourself.
༯ casts. reader x na jaemin
༯ cw. none
STATUS: in progress
VOWS AND CHAOS: HOW TO RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD SHAM MARRIAGE
You married a wealthy man, and that wealthy man is fair when it comes to you. Often, he'd take you to events that you don't ever want to attend, even when you had the opportunity to do so on your own. You and your loving husband are neither one another's preference, but one thing's for sure, you like to oggle at handsome bachelors at events like this. So on nights like these, both of you make a comparison as to whose night is better than the other, by chance—you just had an encounter, and you scored because this new guy was your summer fling, young and a breath of fresh air. A month full of pleasure that you could only keep in your memory has now given you a chance to relive it again, if he wasn't so mad at you for being married.
༯ trope. lost love, memory loss, mind forgets but the heart remembers, exes to lovers
༯ the navi. one | two | three | four | five
Jisung and Renjun rushed you to the hospital, and although with the questions flying, he knew he had to patiently wait for you to tell him the truth.
Your mother loved you; she had no doubts about your capability. After all, you never gave her a reason not to be, even your siblings. Three perfect children blessed her, and she's thankful for that. But after your accident, she had no choice but to hold everything back for you. You planned to get your master's quickly after your bachelor's—yet that wasn't such a great plan if you'd forgotten all of the things you knew the past four years in college, when all you thought was that you were still in your childhood body. You nearly screamed when you saw two of your siblings fully grown, because you couldn't recognize either of them. Your mother had to baby you again; she had to get you to make your own choices. Until she realized certain things would trigger blackouts—they're inconsistent, so she never really knew which ones would trigger them. Sometimes it's a random memory; other times, it's a small material that doesn't hold much significance.
Hence, she became more cautious and only gave you freedom at home. Going outside was forbidden—not really, but you need supervision; your sister, brother, or Ms. Lim next door.
Your sister was the one who tried to help you recover your memories, with a little help from your brother, too. They weren't friends with any of your friends, but they saw them in passing. How they managed to get off the radar, you have no idea. With Ningning's family in the same line of business as yours, it's a miracle they haven't tried to contact you—well, they did, but your family won't pick up. Your friends did have their suspicions, but what could college kids do against your family's strong security measures?
So now, as your mother looks at you, she wants to be angry—but seeing poor Jisung crying over you as you lay in the hospital bed after losing your consciousness, she couldn't bring herself to do that. Of course, she knew who this kid was; she was aware of your relationship with him. You talked about how much you loved him and how you would love to marry him someday. But fate had other plans and decided to steal what was supposed to be yours to begin with.
When morning came, Jisung wouldn't leave your side. "I'll look after her." He says, with puffy eyes and a red nose from constant sniffing. Your mother didn't want to leave. You are her baby; she should be the one here, but Jisung saw the hesitation in her eyes, so he smiled and reassured her that. "You need to rest, ma'am. You came here right after work, might as well sleep it off first." Your mother couldn't say no because she was tired.
Now that he is left alone, Jisung sat on the couch. The doctor said you're okay, you just needed rest, so you're just sleeping now. It shook him to the core when he found out why you had been the way you are. The doctor did say that your brain probably worked so hard to recall things that it took a toll on you. Of course, since you were a regular here, the nurses and everyone else knew about you. When Jisung asked why it had to happen, the nurses explained that it usually happens to those with amnesia. The nurse wasn't stupid; she realized Jisung didn't understand what was happening, so she stopped saying things she shouldn't have. Jisung had started to malfunction, so she asked, "Are you aware?" Aware? Aware of what? Jisung already had a gist. He couldn't fathom that it happened to you, to the girl he wanted to be with.
It made his blood cold, how you had almost lost your life. When did it happen? Was the guy responsible behind bars? Was it even deliberate? God, he didn't even know what to do; he's just sitting there motionlessly, thinking about those times when he'd curse you out for leaving him there. Thinking that you didn't actually want to marry him, how he was spamming your phone with passive-aggressive retorts. No, not angry—he couldn't even try to snap at you even in texts or personal, he loved you too much…and he loves you still.
Now, with much clarity, he knows you were not at fault—that you weren't pretending to act as if nothing happened. He held your hand as you slept through, letting his lips linger on your fingers and counting each one. Sniffing away his tears until morning comes, and his hyung, Renjun, comes in with worry in his voice, greeting the young man with flowers in his hand and takeout from the diner Jisung loved. He could barely eat, but when Renjun quietly seethes through his teeth, he knew he had to say his peace. "You should be careful with her when she wakes up." Jisung only nodded, and after a few words to share, talking about games, concerts, and arts, Renjun had to leave. As he passes through the threshold, he looks back at his friend, whose body seems lifeless as his only love sleeps through the whole thing.
Not long after Renjun left, you woke up. Head pounding just a little, but not worse. The boy beside you panics; he doesn't know what to say, so he has his eyes wide open as you reach for the water bottle on the nightstand. Jisung reaches over to assist you, still silent.
As you finally regain a smoother tone of voice, you look at Jisung. Although the pounding in your head is still there, you still feel okay. "Hi." You greeted, both palms resting on your blanket-clad thighs, and your back straightened. "Are you okay?" You asked, head tilting as you try to get him to look you in the eye, but all he does is dodge it, as a child scolded.
But you knew how much he cried last night. You may not have been as conscious as you wanted, but as your awakeness slips through a few times for the whole duration in the hospital, you were able to pick up his sobs, his apologies—so unnecessary, because why does he have?
You chuckled and lifted his head by his chin. "I know you have so much to ask—"
"No, I don't." Cutting you off, but you didn't have a problem with that; you listened to him. "I get what happened, and I won't ask you to explain—or demand as to why you didn't tell me. Hell, I don't even care that you had to be gone for years. I want you back. I want to start things with you again." He pauses, and his voice breaks a little, so he coughs out to begin his speech again, and you, on the other hand, just listened to him. "We can do it all again, better this time. With good communication, as an adult." He sobs this time, and that made you giggle before caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.
His babyface was a mess; tear-stricken cheeks and puffy eyes made you melt, pulling his face into your chest, and that's when he cried. Said his apologies and everything else that you couldn't understand; it was too many words muffled into your hospital gown, but he pulled away from that, instead stood up from his position, and hugged you himself. "I love you, and things weren't the best when I wasn't with you. I had to hook up with the girl who hated your ass." The sobs made his voice unstable, and made you laugh as you do. You knew he had to be grieving over your relationship, because it might as well be nonexistent at this point.
He'll have to restart it with you. "You need to calm down," you say in between your chuckles.
"How can I? I just found out that the love of my life didn't know who I was!" He argues, and you made a counterback, letting out a scoff in offense, and pulling away from his embrace.
"I'll have you know that I do, in fact, remember you; I just didn't have enough supporting proof for our relationship." You frowned in return as he tucked a hair behind your ear. "My sister and brother didn't put that in the memo book I had."
"A memo book?" He looks at you sideways, mouth on your neck as he tries to both let his desire for your warmth again on his lips, and also listen to what you have to say. He's curious as to what's inside this memo book. He'd love to see it someday. Is it a diary? What was his description in it? "What's in it?"
You didn't want to complain about his lips on your neck; he's neither sucking nor kissing—it's just sitting there while his breath lingers on your skin, making a moist spot, but you liked it. There are no butterflies either; he wasn't even trying to hog your space. Actually, you want him to invade your space. Arms tight around his torso, as you hummed in thought. "Just some descriptions about who's who. It's not even complete." You manage to say, because you knew he was about to ask if everyone's in there, given how his face brightens at the thought, and also because you're curious about everyone's details from people who didn't know your relationship.
"Sian and Sean did that?" He asked, voice muffling from your neck, and you could've sworn that there was a touch of saliva there.
"And mom." You added, "They made sure I won't be too obvious with my memory loss." Then he frowns at this. "It worked, even though I was obviously unaware of who's who." You gave him a mischievous look, and he scoffed at you in return. "I mean, you fell for it." You shrugged this time, but he still doesn't even think about letting you go.
"I thought you really didn't want me."
"I honestly don't." You smiled, and he huffed again, this time pulling away from the physical affection you both basked in; the hospital bed also shifted slightly from the sudden movement. "What? I really don't remember you, but I do feel connected…somehow." You smiled, reaching for his hands as he sulks. "I don't mind having you as my boyfriend again."
The red in his face makes it obvious that he's enjoying you, and you enjoy him. "You make it sound like I broke up with you." He leans forward, his tall figure so huge it cannot be unnoticed, as he hugs you again, your face buried in his chest and his chin on top of your head. "But yeah, I would love to have you again."
But of course, you just had to ruin everything by bringing up the girl he argued with over you. "What did you tell her?" You asked.
"Seriously—" He clicks his tongue. "We were having a moment here."
"But I want to know." You insisted. You're looking up to him this time, and he looks away with a groan.
"She wanted to make things official that day, but I refused."
You smiled at his honesty, and you were sure that he'd be loyal the whole time he was with you. It's only valid that he's been with other girls; he already thought you were never gonna meet again, so he did his best to try to move on—and failed miserably. But at least he's got you now.
You pulled away from his hug. "You still have a lot of explaining to do." You pouted, and his chest vibrated with his own chuckles.
"Me? You have a lot of explaining to do." His fist covering his own laughter as he looked at you accusingly, the same way you are. "Or are we going to keep arguing who has more to say than the other?"
"Touché." Your shoulders lift a little before a series of nods.
The week after was hectic, with how you had to meet with everyone. Some of them cried—the girls and maybe tears from Jaemin, but he wasn't crying—after they found out about it. And how everything made sense when they realized that you were far from your ordinary attitude. The outgoing personality, not the quiet one, they've been exposed to in the past few months. They only thought that you had outgrown your college persona, that maybe change was inevitable for you.
Jisung was quiet — when was he ever loud — while you explained, but he needed his emotional support hand—yours—to get through it without crying again. Some of them took offense; Chenle, for example, when he realized how you barely acknowledged him the first time you met with them again. "So this whole time you don't remember me?" He scoffs, arms folded as he makes that face he does.
"No." You said plainly, the whole room laughs at this, not for fun, but to lighten up.
"You can't forget that you called me a sharpy one time." His nose flared, and you knew he wasn't mad, just faking it. Jisung occupies the space behind you on the couch, insisting that he supports you that way, and occasionally rubs your back when you're about to slip off your words — an encouraging way to remind you to slow down, that you can take your time.
You squinted your eye as you tried to recall that, and although it was blurry, you thought you could remember. "Only because you kept pushing that I had a boyfriend even after I said I had none." You frowned, and Jisung laughed softly, pulling on your hand as he tried to calm you down.
"Okay, alright. Knock it off." Renjun says.
Jaemin steps in. "You were aggressive then, Chenle-ya." Jeno, beside him, nods, and the girls smile at the interaction, suggesting that despite your disposition, your dynamic within the group remains unchanged.
Chenle defends himself, feeling he's losing the argument he started. "In my defense, I was looking out for my friend—Ya! Jisung-ah, help me out here!" He snaps Jisung out of his fantasy, making him seethe through his teeth and look at him, desperate friend. "You can't leave me out here, just because you got your girl back." Chenle snaps, making hand gestures. Jisung only sticks out his tongue as he nuzzles his face into your neck.
Everyone softens—well, except for Chenle, as he still tries to make a point—at Jisung to have him back again, finally. He was self-destructive after you disappeared, and your return was a way to have him back again, finally. "Forgive our sweet amnesiac, Chenle-ya. She had to go through everything alone, y'know." Aeri says with a shrug, clearly on your side, and an insistent Chenle turns to argue with her instead, with a few here and there from Ningning. You also just found out that Ningning and Chenle had a brief fling after college, but it didn't work out because they were too similar, according to both of them.
Jisung, finally not being in the spotlight, kissed your neck softly—he's been doing that a lot lately, "Do you want to go on a date this Saturday?"
You looked at him while the argument in the background became white noise—an argument ranging from your brain condition to food. "This Saturday?" You asked quietly, forehead almost on his, and he hums.
"Is that okay with you?" He was worried; he didn't want to push you too much. He's already that much in love with you, and his body only responds to your desires. You could see his tail wagging as he awaits your sweet reply. "It's okay if you're not ready for that." You could sense how his voice signals his mood—slowly decreasing—when you took too long to respond.
You pretend to think, and as you do, you observe his body language; the hopeful glance, the mouse-glass eyes—you really think he looks like a white rat now. Although his hopeful look slowly fades as you fail to answer, you managed to gain it back when you agreed with a simple yes.
"You can choose the spot, I'll be in charge of everything." You smiled at his confidence.
"I should also get a job."
"You don't need it, I'm the only job you need."
A few months after that, you made as many memories with Jisung and the others. You managed to try out things you weren't allowed to do. You worked at your mom's company with your siblings, while Jisung works from home. You were also still uncovering some memories; you don't get as many lapses, but they are still there. It worries Jisung, so he understands the precautions your mother has to take to keep you safe. He is also still wary about bringing up the proposal back in college, but he's slowly trying to get it there. You kept urging him to tell you the story you had back then, yet he refused you every time. His excuse? He doesn't want you exhausting your brain too much.
His worries were valid; after all, you do tend to overthink it, straining your brain despite your doctor's warnings. "But I wanna know." You push, trying to persuade him as he gets up from the couch to go to his fridge and take out another cold beverage, holding it out to you like it's what you needed. Yet you didn't hesitate to take it, even drank from it, making a pause from the conversation before getting right back to bothering your boyfriend.
He doesn't look pissed. You think he likes that you're even chasing him around for some answers. "Babe, we can take it slow—"
"But it ain't sex!" You whined, your feet on the floor making thumping sounds as you stepped forward. He's leading you back to the couch, you sit down passively, and his arms are around your shoulders. He takes the bottle from you and drinks from it, and he shifts his focus to the TV—some comedy series you've been watching for the past hour. "Jisung~"
He snaps his head back to you. "When you're ready."
"But I am ready."
He recalls the time he proposed, and you left him hanging for four years. He didn't want to jinx it; he really does want to marry you. Especially now. But that made him feel doubt, so he held back from telling you. "Next time." He pulls you close, kissing your temple as you pout, knowing that he probably won't be telling you soon.
It wasn't until November came that Chenle proposed to his two-month girlfriend—everyone wasn't surprised because he was a spontaneous person—that you also brought up his proposal. You asked him if it was a grand one, but then you took it back by saying how he probably couldn't afford a grand proposal since you guys were in college. He was making a face as you created scenarios as to how he delivered his own version of the proposal, but you were right about it not being grand; the ring was expensive. He still had it; he kept it deep in his underwear drawer so you wouldn't bother.
"I'll have you know that it was a simple dinner." He scoffed.
You smiled mischievously, hidden of course. Luring Jisung in to talk more about your college relationship dynamic, and boy was clueless. He yapped finally, and all you did was look at him, admiring how he seemed to relive those memories only he had, because yours were wiped out. Then came the part you looked forward to: you two are in his car now, heading home, passing by headlights as he tells you the story about how much he thought about wanting to marry you, and then how he finally realized that saying something might lead to a worrisome event. "Just say it, I'm not fragile." You trace the hair on his nape, and he leans in as he drives.
He sighs, and as he pulls over the driveway, his home in full view, he unbuckles his seatbelt and yours, pulling you over to him and meeting your lips halfway through. He wanted to pull you in as he deepened the kiss. "I love you."
"I know."
"So you have to understand—"
"Nope, you have to tell me now." You demanded, still sitting on his lap with your arms folded. "Jisung, I'm doing better. You don't need to worry, stop worrying." Kissing his cheek.
"But I don't want to lose you again."
"Lose me? You never lost me. Don't hold back just because of my lapses; it's manageable." You frowned when he looked away from you. "I don't want to dance around with you like this, I don't want to regret things just because you can't tell me shit."
"I only want the best for you."
"And the best option is for you to tell me."
And finally, he folds. Sighing in defeat before covering his face in his palms, then shifting his gaze from the window to yours. "I want to marry you so bad." That's all he says before letting his head fall onto your chest. Your chest vibrates from the chuckle, as you held up his face to yours, his eyes closed, and his lips puckered up for a kiss, so you obliged.
"Then, marry me."
It might've been difficult for Jisung to get through his stories, but as he delved deeper into his own memory, sharing them with you made it feel like you were living them again, even though you were only hearing them, and you made your own version in your head. He went through a dark time without you, and you managed to bring it back by just adding yourself into the equation. You could only look forward to the things you have right now, and what you could do after, because time never runs out when it's just the two of you.
༯ content warning. dissociation, memory lapses, medical trauma
༯ the stats. 4.1k words | fluff, angst, slow burn
༯ trope. lost love, memory loss, mind forgets but the heart remembers, exes to lovers
༯ the navi. one | two | three | four | five
Renjun knows now. Jisung wants you back, so he confronts you about the truth.
Today is the day Renjun marked as your friendship anniversary, and it's a themed park with extreme rides and fancy mascots. Why you're both here, you don't know—but he's got that snarky look on his face, smirking and pissing you off as he offers you that ice cream—licking it like a kid. Though honestly, you can't deny that his features are attractive…almost angelic, even the squealing students gawking at your handsome friend agree, but this guy? You've got a feeling that he wants more than just this simple day out with you. As the two of you hang around the whole place, riding kiddie rides, and random extremes that make you want to throw up, soon enough. The coffee shop from earlier was just a warm-up for the full interrogation that led to this full-blown experience. All because you opted out of a few truths; his mission is to get you to admit.
There were unspoken chances given to you throughout the day; first, there was the giant swing ride, where he repeatedly prompted you to state your truths by joking about your past relationship—non-offensive—with Jisung, which you inadvertently denied, protecting Jisung from this situation; second, you guys enteredthe Haunted Mansion, making fear as a way for you to slip it through your tongue:
Nonchalantly, as the actors try to scare both of you, but only causing slight jumps and small squeals of surprise, he failed to take a confession out of you.
Not until the romantic part, the ferry's wheel.
He told you all about the things you guys had together in college, reminiscing about life and how he had missed you, all of them had—and that he was hurt when you cut off all contact:
"I didn't mean to do that. It just happened." Due to the size of the ride, it will take some time for you two to exit. When you reach the top portion of the ride, where the customary fireworks appear? Today, however, there are no fireworks—just two pals discussing emotions of betrayal and missed chances.
"Was it so bad to feel this way?" He sniffs. Surely, he isn't crying; he's just feeling emotional, and it's evident from the way he's looking at you. "You promised we'd go here together after graduation because I wanted to go with you, and god…Jisung and Ningning always had you, it's crazy!" He laughed through his tearless sobs. "Only you didn't, I had to go here with Jisung all sulky after—" he thoughtfully remembers it, and then looked at you with a dark glint. You know how valid it was that he's feeling that way, you're not going to rob him of that. "Why did you do that? Leave suddenly? Are you that afraid of committing?" Committing?
Though you shook it off and ignored it, the nagging feeling in your stomach is telling you something. You had asked yourself that question and were a little dubious of his favored word to describe the circumstance. You knew that saying something now is the only way, and Renjun was in fact feeling himself, already getting swept away in his momentary anger until—
"I don't remember anything."
Have you ever felt your heart drop? How it felt like you dropped it for a moment?
Yes, that's what Renjun was feeling, then he laughed; "You can't make a joke about that—" but what got him to stop the giggles in his throat was your refusal to take part in shared laughter, he was flabbergasted, making a face, and he felt like he need to take a breath—too bad he can't open the door for that ferry booth, he'd die. You allowed him to compose himself by letting silence fill the air until he was ready enough to initiate and state his opinion, and once he did? He started with, "like lost lost? Or you actually don't remember?"
"I think it's both." Without any regard for what you should say in this situation.
"Jesus Christ, woman!" He can breathe normally this time, allowing the air that was pushed out of his lungs to replenish.
He couldn't be emotional about it, he felt a little conflicted. "You are so mean for hiding this from us!" You can hear his gasp, and it gets tiring. He's like a mother hen, you'd think. Everything that comes out of his mouth fades; you're dissociating again. "Hello?!"
"What?" Your sight becomes unclear, yet you manage to return to the present when he gently pushes you. He remains composed, which means that, for the moment, all is tranquil.
"Were you ever gonna tell us?"
"I was. But I am still observing. Mom barely let me out of the house." It's not necessarily an excuse, but it might have sounded like one right now.
"You're an adult?!" He said it like it was obvious—it is.
"I don't know what else to say, you're making it a big deal!" You weren't yelling, yet your volume is gradually increasing as you continue. You're aware that he is merely attempting to understand the concept, but you didn't wish to come off as unkind and dismiss your experiences. You've had four years to accept that it happened, and he's got now to get over it. With how he's reacting, pushing his body lean against the seat, it causes the booth to move slightly side to side, which scares you, making your heart skip. This is scarier than the Haunted house after all—when you're on the verge of death…but you remember how you almost died anyway, so what's there to be scared about, right?
"Lady, it is a big deal! You can't expect me to ride along with it." He wasn't wrong, he's looking at you like you weren't real, like it's something he cannot believe. When you didn't respond then, he sighed. "So, how do you know who we are? I know you recognized Ning, but I'm guessing you picked up our names from observing—woah, I cannot wrap my head around this." He stopped talking and just let himself cool off. You seemed incredibly calm, despite the chaotic storm brewing inside you; the way that anxiety truly impacts you deeply worries Renjun. After a few more of Renjun's discussions regarding truthfulness and empathy, you wished for him not to mention this matter to anyone else.
"You're not telling them, right?" You aimed to confirm, while he, conversely, gazed at you as if he were uncertain. "Let me be the one to tell them."
Renjun sighed in defeat, and honestly, he doesn't like where this is going. "Fine, but you can't do this to them, us, or even him." He's not even had the same bright smile he had all through the day, he's just sitting across you in the most acclaimed romantic place in the world where you two should be joking and laughing about life's ironic gifts…yet here you two are, conflicted and sharing a secret you burdened yourself with for years. "Do you know how crazy he got when none of us could get through you? It's like you disappeared." He talked quietly, but his emotions were strong, and he experienced greater distress for his friend than for himself. "He was wrecked, babe."
"I promise I'll fix this."
"You better."
Jisung seems quite happy while enjoying time with you. You can tell by how he naturally takes your hand, as if he is leading you to a different store. His attention is mainly directed at you. On this occasion, he was candid and vocal. He thought that your request came after Renjun's annoying behavior of providing misleading details and subsequently sending a hasty apology via a message. You decided to keep the truth to yourself; your primary goal was to see if anything would come to his mind. Luckily for you, you avoided bringing up the fact that you had a disagreement the last time you were together. It’s uncertain whether Jisung has forgotten about that moment or if he prefers not to bring it up. Nevertheless, he seems quite pleased to be present with you, enjoying the shopping experience that you find most enjoyable.
You have had a lot of questions that make you want to ask, but you're still not ready to tell anyone, so you're stuck here. "Are you hungry?" You asked Jisung. His smile was just a straight line when you finally said something. You've been walking around the district for some clothes you wanted to buy, and you're blinded by how he's the one taking care of you and paying for your stuff. You're not dense; perhaps you didn't notice he'd switch your card with his when you're not looking. And you're used to someone else paying or you anyway. Your mom and your siblings, despite being the eldest.
He nods and holds your hand again. It makes you feel bad. Since you have no recollection of anything, he clings to the hope that there is a chance for the two of you to reconcile. You knew about that. Briefly after talking to Renjun a day ago, he mentioned that Jisung had been trying to get close to you and had been failing miserably because you refuse to be around him, so he acts like he doesn't want to be near you either. Although you dismissed their assumption, you noted that upon observing the group, you realized that Jisung was the individual who had been steering clear of any engagement with you.
Apparently, his drifting personality meant that he wanted so much to approach you himself, but was too shy to make a move. He had only been able to go today because he thought you were the one initiating the whole thing.
Now that it is clear to you, you don't want the cute, tall guy to go back to his shell. He's been extra intuitive today. Paying for your snack, and even carrying the water bottle you bought when you were thirsty. You saw how sweet he was, and you two barely talk, and you're thinking if this is how it was before you two broke up. You two weren't.
Right now, he's feeding you actual food, with that tiring of countless shopping bags by your table? You ought to get tired; this kid has a job. A Real job, like your siblings—you wanted one. And yet your mom refused you. As you two are eating, you decide to take the lead in discussing your experiences, the enjoyable moments he has shared, how content he feels in tech—even if he doesn’t seem that way—then he clears his throat, which makes you worried about what might come next. "I know this might not be a good time for us to talk about, but I wanted to fix whatever it is between us."
"Like what?"
"I just want to clear this out."
"That is?"
"You know what." He says, looking at you like you're crazy. It's not that you pretend not to understand. You really are clueless; you do not know which one he is referring to. This relationship or the past relationship?
You chuckle slightly, "I really don't, can you be clearer?"
"Back then, I asked you a question, and you disappeared a week after. You didn't talk to me, you just left. I want to clear that out." This time, you had no idea that you started swirling. You weren't even panicking, but you felt pressured despite his gentle inquiry. He wasn't even mean about it.
The light in the area is suddenly fading, making it hard for you to see; you stay still. Focus on his words, hoping that you'd get through this and hear what he has to say…this is your moment, the willingness to understand… but you blanked out…death to your hearing, vision, and even your memories. They blacked out even when you appeared conscious to him. "…ma…rry…" That was the last you remembered. There was nothing else that was helping you out… the last time you were trapped in this abyss was three years ago, when your sister, Sian, showed pictures of your college days. Probably the reason why they kept so much from you. Babied you after the accident because they were afraid that this might happen.
It’s challenging to keep up when his tone begins to decelerate, then becomes deep and heavy like a faulty record nearing its end. The sole detail that stays with you is the awareness that you are inside the vehicle, positioned in front of your apartment complex, attempting to comprehend what transpired. You experienced remorse… were you capable of responding to any of his inquiries? Were your replies filled with quietness and mechanical responses?
You stayed in the car, parked outside instead of in the underground garage, as if you were just a bystander. You were merely contemplating the events that took place during your meeting with Jisung.
A couple of days after that date with Jisung, he appeared completely unfazed by your behavior the other night, and you found yourself sitting with him while everyone else thought this was the moment that you two would end up as a couple. Your mind was shutting out everything he said, and he didn't even realize how disconnected you were. Why are you not fully engaged? He kept talking about trivial matters, mentioning how he wanted to take you on dates, and all you could do was nod in response.
But to Jisung? He knew you weren't there, the little gazes and the scripted nods. He caught them all since he brought it up; he brought up the fact that he proposed a week before you disappeared, when he thought you didn't want to see him anymore. How the rough sketches of that silence still rang in his ear, still fresh as he tries to remember how it even happened. Why didn't you pick up his calls after grad? How worried he was that he spiraled, thinking it was his fault that you suddenly just avoided everyone. Since most of them called your number but never received a response, a few were pissed. He felt that way, to be honest, since he was one of those.
So now that you're pretending again, getting lost as he asked you things. Even to the point of having to fake a scenario, and you'd keep nodding at every story like you actually lived it. He felt irrelevant to you, misunderstanding your actions. He didn't want to make a scene, not when everyone's having a great time with you. He's trying to keep both on his shoulders right now, balancing his principles and the enjoyment of others. He loves you still, and letting you go now is the only thing he can do if this is how you two will be when the time comes.
Tracing back to before this all unfolded? How surprised he was just by seeing you then? He recalled how the two of you would become handsy after not seeing each other for a week. Just a month ago, you were a stranger, and now you remind him of the life he had wished.
Right in that car ride with Jeno and Chenle when they asked him about you, Jeno would look in the mirror to monitor his actions, but all they saw was him looking out the window and not bothering to speak. They were aware that it was a shock, just as he was aware that it was unexpected, but all he could think about was how to ask you out again. He was nervous about how to begin again with you, so he chewed his nails, hummed, and chattered on and on in front of his hyung until he saw you for each meeting. My God! You two never truly split up, technically, so it wasn't a breakup, right? If you only knew how badly he wanted you back.
Well, it is for you. You felt that you two had already ended years ago, so once he confronts you again. Yet he never anticipated that he'd be confronting you—against his own will—driven by his anger at Miss Lint's attempt to win him over, desperately this time with how you just graced them after years of absence from the circle.
"Seriously? Are you not even going to ask? Are you seriously going to pretend that things are okay between us?"
That shut you up; it made you frown. "What do you mean? I'm literally years behind. I don't think I'm even relevant to your life. You're not the same person—neither am I!"
He made a funny sound; he wasn't scoffing, but it was almost like he was chuckling bitterly. "You meet me—three, almost four years later, acting like we were just friends." He was shaking, breath almost running out, and you were worried he might pass out.
"Are we not?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Like you don't know that?" Condescending.
He didn't want it to be that way—ambushing you with raw anger that he had to walk away. Then, when he attempts to speak with you again, you're going home with Renjun… He trusts his hyung, but he wanted to be the one doing all that for you. Heck, he was the one who wanted you back after all—thinking that maybe this time is a better opportunity to pick up where you both left off. He won't ask you to marry you again unless you're ready. The last time he did propose, you disappeared for years. He longed for the sensation of your warmth against him and for uninterrupted weekends; he didn't want that, but rather to be by your side at all times. He works from home and treasures his personal space. Oh god, you used to bask in his personal space back then. Now, you're just a distant stranger, and he wants to reach out. It's like you were a different woman; he ought to start all over with you. He's not gonna complain about that. He made the effort to have you then, so surely he can do that too now. Although his immaculate bashfulness sometimes paints him as aloof does not mean he's not interested in moving forward.
One thing is clear: he wants you back, and he'll do anything to have that again with you. Unless you're no longer interested, that is. But his hope is strong for this round; he won't back down.
Before you guys went home after another night out at Renjun's place? He made sure to mark his space, to retrace everything. You didn't mind his actions, how he's sit with you the whole time Chenle was telling a story about how he did something crazy with his money a week ago. All while he makes sure everyone sees that he's trying to be with you, that he'd want to give everyone the hint that he's trying it with you.
You and the others weren't stupid, and neither was Renjun. When you were dissociating, you could all see how needy he was. When social cues demanded it, you laughed even if you were not there; make sure to conceal everything to prevent any of them from noticing. With how your brain is now being fried by the overwhelming remnants of your past peeking through the windows of your mind, you let Jisung trap you there in the corner of the couch. His possessiveness is coming through. Yet you maintained great composure so they'd see your participation.
Renjun kept glancing at you with worry, while the others only saw Jisung's affection as reclaiming his position as your lover. The rest of the girls whisper amongst themselves while the other males just gave the view a soft smile. Renjun could only hold onto your hand to keep you afloat and grounded, to which you responded with a small mutter of "thanks" before sighing out loudly and seeing the group's loving expression focused on both of you.
Just as everyone left the place one by one, you and Jisung were the last to get home. Renjun was already asleep, but before heading to his room, he gave you a side eye, urging you to speak, whispering, "Tell him now, or you won't ever get the chance to."
But you didn't follow through, letting his words die in the air as he closed his door with finality. After seeing Jisung softly extend his hand out for you, he immediately locked the door to his hyung's home and went to his car.
You don't know anything about timing. You lost all of your normal social senses after the accident, or were you already without any social awareness and have been robotic your whole life? You don't know.
Before you could even utter a word, he spoke, "I don't know what happened to you after graduation, and I know you didn't like the fact that I popped the question. But I want to try again."
You were already exhausted by this time, but you didn't let it thwart you. Not allowing yourself to lose your train of thought. You're completely sober, you didn't drink, but you knew you were slowly succumbing to lapses. "Jisung…please—"
"Every time I tried to start over with someone else… I was looking for you in them—" He trails off trying to get you to look at him just as you tried to look away from his honest gaze, you felt that he was too honest, too vulnerable and it aches to see that you can't be honest now, becaus you were a fragment of the woman he used to see." It's pathetic, I know. You probably don't want to hear this, and I've spent years trying to stay quiet so I wouldn't lose you here—" he smacks his forhead and that made you gasp, but he chuckles humorlessly as if to give you a point. "—but I am tired of forgetting. I don't want to forget you or what we had once." Although his forehead-slap was unnecessary and somewhat taken aback by you, it was nice of him not to scream, which made you feel more at ease and collected.
"I don't want to ruin your moment. But Jisung, I have not been honest with you." This confused the male in front of you; he was confused about your sudden change in demeanor, you're detached, almost lost.
"Is this how you're going to reject me?" He was already giving the impression that he was returning to his reclusive ways by holding back and scratching his chest, allowing it to rest there as if it were something to be concealed, and he smiled slightly.
"N-no, it's true. I am not honest, please give me time to consider this, especially that night with her." Whose codename was Lint because no one bothered to tell you her name. "You were arguing—assuming that it's about me. I don't want you to rush through anything just because I am here now. Make a clear choice for yourself." You worry that he rushes through everything just because of his lingering feelings for you. You do not doubt that he might have harbored some affection for her, even if just a little, hearing about their dates from Ningning and the girls.
The silence filled the air after you said that. You weren't trying to offend him, but with the way he's looking at you like he's pleading, yet refuses to say something, gnaws at you. "Just say you don't want me."
"But I do want you." That was the only word you could say, and you're slowly going back to hiding, almost feeling yourself get a blank mind, but he snaps.
He glared, yet he felt hope. "You're doing that thing again—where you say what you think I want to hear. Please don't do that. Not with this. Not with me." His voice broke slightly, then he cleared his throat to regain his voice.
"I am honest!"
"You said you weren't honest, and then you say you are? Which is it?" This time, he's firmer, but he's not yelling; he sounded calm, but his words were shaky.
"It's not the right time."
"Then, when is the right time? I waited four long years thinking you were completely wiped out from the face of the Earth, then you came back as if nothing had happened. I wanted to marry you, you said you'd think about it—" His words fade, and you're completely blacked out. You can't move your feet, and your muscles are getting tighter
Thus it happens, again. This time, it wasn't just memory lapses or the common robotic responses. The last thing you remember is Jisung's screams and Renjun coming out of his house to assist you.
༯ trope. lost love, memory loss, mind forgets but the heart remembers, exes to lovers
༯ the navi. one | two | three | four | five
You met your friends, now what? Your mother is mad, distrustful. You agreed to her curfew, and you're faced with a lot of questions.
Dinner was silent; your mom, sister, and brother sat around the table chewing the delicious five-star. Your silverware clanking against porcelain, and the recurring ring in your ear. You're not dense; you know when the tension is accumulating in a space you occupy. You choose not to care, and are acquainted with their schooled expressions when they try to address the issue at hand.
With the concentrated silence, your sister filled it with a mutter of concern. There's this warriness in her eyes, an anticipation for your answer—will you lash out? Will you cry or be the meek, obedient sister she has come to know over the years? She doesn't know that, but you do. So when she whispers your name, you respond with a slight hum, eyes circling your peripheral to pick up their energy before answering, "What's wrong?"
Sian eyes your mother, whose body language sits prim and tensed, deshelling her shrimp as she becomes more attentive with what Sian is going to say next. Her pinky sticks out as he eats her fancy dinner, eating it like it's expensive. "You didn't come with a chauffeur last night," says your sister, constantly looking over at your mother. Your mother has been overprotective of you since the day she almost lost you; she's merely holding onto you more than your siblings. Although you felt it was unfair, you gave her that leverage over you. Because you needed to understand what she had gone through.
Your chewing halts as you gaze into your mother's eyes before answering. "I'm an adult."
The sound of your mother clearing her throat commanded the room's attention. Your brother, who kept himself out of the loop, still gets dragged in anyway. "Yes, you are." Your mother was too calm, and it's making you antsy; it's almost like a big problem, and you hope she wasn't too mad about what you did, at least that's what you've observed with the way she's looking at you. The knowing that she may have been upset with you is something you wanted to push down your throat, but you really can't do that. Not with the way she's glaring, her sharp eyes piercing right through you, almost an accusation.
She wanted you to fold; wanted you to apologize, to reassure her that you were safe, and that you won't do it again. But you disagree with that—you can't have her locking you in the house just because she said so; just because her fear of losing you is what will unburden her emotionally. You never faulted her for being anxious, but sometimes things escalate, and before you know it, you're not making any life for yourself. Established lives, beautiful careers, romanticized vacations; these were too far for you. Sure, you can ask your mom; however, she will reject your proposal to go anywhere but this country. "My friends are inviting me out again." It wasn't a permission. The following night needed approval, you know that—thus, you assert yourself to resort to that meaningful response.
You saw her swallow her food carefully before putting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands together to support her chin. "Verdict?" she asks. Only your siblings were looking between the two of you, gulping and waiting for a full argument, but neither of you succumbed; you traversed calmly.
"I'm going."
"Bring your siblings." It was a condition. That was always the condition. However, you're tired of these orders, of these rules that only affect her relief. It's a suffocating decision that, although it keeps you safe, it treats your life as something sacred and beyond reproach. A hopeless cycle of life that you found yourself living for the past three to four years. It's an exhausting run that you barely even realized that you weren't living as what your former self had envisioned for herself.
"Mom—"
"It's non-negotiable."
You sighed at her stubbornness. You just wanted to keep her fear of losing you out of her system, to at least try to make her forget that whatever happened to you was in the past. It's time to let go of it. "You never let me out anymore." This time, you let go of your own silverware, loud enough to know that your anger is seeping through, but not too much as to be violent. "You kept me out of most of my potential."
"You can live comfortably here; you don't need to go out!" Both Sian and Sean flinched at the sound of the screeching chair when your mother stood up quite abruptly. They didn't want you both to fight—and it was the first time in a while that they've seen you act more like your old self—it was a refreshing sight (for them), but a fear might have unlocked within them. You feared that too, so you held yourself back.
"It's only for a few hours, I'll come back." You closed your eyes to breathe before getting back to your momentum. "I can't keep disrupting Sian and Sean's lives just because I'm falling behind."
"You're not—"
"Oh, but I am. I saw my friends, Mom. They were building a life that I could have been living right now, had I not been in that accident." It was a surprise that you weren't screaming. Honestly, you felt like you wanted to, but for some reason, you just can't.
"And this coming Thursday, I'll be watching everyone else and hearing stories about their lives. I'm the one losing the time." Knowing that this could get emotional, Sian and Sean stood and left the both of you be, hoping that after this talk, inhibitions would be released, and the tension would be resolved. You held up a hand when your mother opened her mouth to protest. "I want to walk with you, Mom. I want to see the world, not because you provided it for me. Let me taste it for myself, okay? It's not so bad to try and do it, yeah?"
She sighed, this time backing down. You feel that maybe she's allowing you to go there, not that you needed permission to, it's not like an experiment of learned helplessness, and you're neither a naive dog put in the box to see if you will be able to get out of those shocks. But the shocks are nonexistent—they were decoys all along, and you're the one to see if you'd escape it on your own; she had assumed that you were weak. You needed the right push, and you did. The look in her eyes worried you, as it pained you to think that she really won't allow you to go, as if she still had something over you. You really hoped that she's seeing whatever it is you're seeing for yourself—at this point, you're only living through the life that was provided for you, not the one you had curated for yourself. You're not even sure if you can make one right after this. But youll be sure to walk with the knowing that you do not know whatever is out there for you.
"Be home by nine, I'm not negotiating." She left you there in the dining room, and you cleaned up the table, with your sister popping in and patting your back to comfort you.
"Mom's just worried—I can still come with you, if you want." Sian smiled at you, trying to lift your spirits for now, knowing that she won't be much of a help.
"Don't. I wanna do it myself. It's the only thing I have to go through alone." You washed the dishes, letting the water run smoothly over the soaped ones. She halts you from moving, letting the water continuously run its course by the sink.
"Do they know?"
"No." Turning off the faucet, hands covered with dish soap. "I haven't told them, how can I? I live vicariously through them. How Winter and Ningning explored Paris, and I—" you exhaled loudly. "It's not even about Paris…I've been living like a freeloader, I want more."
Sian nods, pursed lips, and kisses your cheeks, sympathizing with you. "I wish you could've told me about your feelings." You shrugged her off, then turned the faucet on to continue your washing duties.
"I tried, but I know you liked having no responsibilities. I think it's mine to carry."
"You're my sister." She sighed before hugging you from behind. "I may have been detached, but I do pay attention."
You nodded, "Thank you. I'll tell you all about my pity feelings." She chuckled at your response, then offered to help you put away the leftovers, to which you gladly accepted.
The following day, you were exhausted and clammy from the night before. And when the afternoon arrives, you've got yourself ready. Not excited, just unperturbed. "You're going out?" Your brother inquires from the threshold of your bedroom.
As you were putting on your earring, you looked his way. "Oh, hi, yeah."
"Mom meant well, I do agree…you should bring at least one of us."
"I'll be fine, I know how to use a phone, you know." You tried to joke.
"I know, but just for safety—"
"Nope." This time, you approached him, your feet skimmed through the surface of the floor. "I can do it, but you can drive me to the location?" It's just a suggestion, but he agreed. He took it and went back downstairs excitedly with the dangle of his keys.
By the time you finished, you had steeled yourself for whatever the night held in store. Hidden away is the sun, preparing for its rest, and you're just looking out the window as your brother plays that musical he's been watching as of late, when you stare at him incredulously, he says how it was his girlfriend's favorite, and has been internalizing her existence with songs playing on the radio to get through his days.
Your teasing ended fast, just as you had arrived at the location. You checked your phone before telling your brother to be careful when he drives home and gets out of it. "I love you."
"I love you too." Kissing his cheeks before you heard someone calling your name. Unfamiliar, but he surprises you with the way he familiarly enunciates it. Your brother drives off, and you see him just as he left, dimples sinking deeply into his cheeks. Arms extended, but you were left there confused, not knowing what to do.
Again, he says your name before putting his out, confused by how you returned his greeting with a questioning expression, as if you did not know him. "Jaehyun?" He says his after, trying to get you to remember him, and you opened your mouth as if it popped into your head, you acted as if you knew him. Finally, extending your arms out to embrace him like he had intended to. "How are you? Oh my god, it's been a while!" From there, he pulled you in and escorted you into the restaurant, greeting the workers there politely.
Everyone was already seated there, a few strangers, and in unison, they all greeted you both in different moods. Jaehyun gets the congratulatory I missed you, while you are greeted with stunned looks from everyone else who has not seen you in years. You just realized that none of these people are actual strangers—one woman approached you with a subtle tease in the curve of her lips.
"You're back?" Greetings halted, and the mid-kiss on the cheeks from Jaehyun's playful regards from a few female friends. Exchanging looks amongst one another as they almost realized what was brewing, during the years you weren't around, she called dibs on Jisung. It didn't look like she was letting go. Ningning was not having it, so as she walked towards you, she purposefully pushed her off, only to be caught by Jisung, involuntarily. Jaehyun smiled sheepishly before brushing off the smothering greetings and escorting you to a seat far from your ex. You never caught her name, so the whole time you sat there, everyone drowned you in unending inquiries about your recent whereabouts, asking you the same questions Jaemin and the rest asked. Honestly, Jimin and Aeri were the most curious, even to the point of going past your boundaries, since you do not know how you were with them then, you indulged their drunken antics. Everyone gets to eat the food and also have you interrogated. And with Jaehyun sitting next to you, he smiled at you, giving you that comforting and refreshing smile that made you realize how handsome he really is.
"He's not available," Jimin says with a knowing smile on her face.
"What about Taeyong?" You pointed at the man who's already sleeping off his wasted self at the edge of the table, and a few of their friends are making fun of him for being a lightweight.
"He's married," Aeri says as she drinks her wine, as if it's something you're supposed to know.
"Why are they even here?" You asked, hoping they wouldn't notice how clueless you were. Thankfully, they're drunk and tipsy.
"To see you!" Ningning pops in, "But I am hoping you try and get your man back," she added, and all three of you looked at Jisung. This made her giggle. "So you do still think he's your man."
You blushed at her remark, and the two women joined in to tease you further—this time, they asked you more about what you thought about the man. "He does look hotter," Aeri adds.
"I'm not really into dating right now."
"Not into dating?" Three of them say in unison
"Baby, what happened?" Jimin utters dramatically, gasping.
You shrugged, not wanting them to press further. "Life happened?" You chuckle awkwardly.
They didn't push you much after that, not because your answers were boring, but they found something else to fixate on, with Jimin's new fling and Aeri's new modelling gig. While everything was going on, it became overwhelmingly unbearable that you wanted to leave, you knew you had to take a breather, so you did. Went out of the place and saw Jisung outside fighting with the girl. It's funny because she didn't even try to greet you or re-introduce herself, not even your friends told you her name, and instead gave her this outrageous codename; yet, you're not complaining. After all, she was giving you backhanded comments the whole time, even when she's literally on the other side of the table. The only act of saving you got was Renjun insulting her flat out, and possibly Jisung's silent warning when he glared at her.
Once you're outside, the balcony, seeing Jisung out with the lint—miss girl, that is—arguing over something. All you could make out was:
"…make it official?"
"what…there's nothing…it was just nothing!"
"Because she's back? Is that it?"
They were whispering, and it's making you curious, who was back? Was it you? You were sure it was you, but why was she so offended by your return? Was it that big of a deal?
You also didn't linger for long, until Lint came out running from the balcony when Jisung took a long time to answer. Of course, he just conveniently went back in and bumps into you just when you thought you'd be having your time alone. You paused, looked away with a pursed lip. Yet, before you could get out of his way, he spoke. "You heard?" You immediately responded in denial, but he looks around and then awkwardly tries to find your eyes. "I think you heard."
You're not to lie, you were caught in it. It's not so bad to be honest, and besides, dragging out a lie is exhausting—you had a feeling he'd keep asking you about it. "Yes, I didn't mean to. I just needed some fresh air."
"You're not asking?"
"Ask what?"
"What was between her and me?" he says it casually, like it's some requirement to let you leave his space; a revelation, and you should be thanking him for his preconceived notions.
"I'm not sure why I should be asking." You let out an awkward laugh, a forced one, and you doubt it would convince him that you were confident about what you're feeling right now. Your feet ran cold, and you were eager enough to leave the space he's occupying.
"Seriously? Are you not even going to ask? Are you seriously going to pretend that things are okay between us?"
That shut you up; it made you frown. "What do you mean? I'm literally years behind. I don't think I'm even relevant to your life. You're not the same person—neither am I!"
He made a funny sound; he wasn't scoffing, but it was almost like he was chuckling bitterly. "You meet me—three, almost four years later, acting like we were just friends." He was shaking, breath almost running out, and you were worried he might pass out.
"Are we not?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Like you don't know that?" Condescending.
"I just thought that…since it's been so long, you won't even be bothered having me around." You sounded sad, which made him look at you. You knew how it annoyed him, because he seethes his breath through his teeth and scratches his head before looking at you again.
His expression schooled a confused one; you hoped you weren't answering self-contradictory responses that might get you caught in your lie. "Why aren't you mad? Was I that expendable?"
"Why would I be mad?"
His feelings of inferiority seep through, and you're afraid that he might have been holding on to your existence and the essence of your relationship for years. So when he walked out on you, possibly going back to the rest, you frowned.
When you returned, a few had already bid their farewells, and Jisung was there. You knew you had upset him, and you were compelled to tell the truth; it was always going to be uncovered sooner or later anyway. Yet you're afraid of the outcome, so you held yourself back and went to Ningning—surprisingly not tipsy, but sober. Giselle is the drunk one, and Minjeong is following behind them, holding hands with Ningning as they escort the girl out into their car. "Do you want to sleep over at our place?" asks Jimin, but you smiled and told them you have to go home.
It's nine already. It's not like she can complain; your mother didn't even message you, so you sent her a message saying you're on your way home—and that you're waiting for a ride. Renjun saw you still outside the establishment, so he invited you in his car. Happily trying to get you into his own space, the guy missed you. In that notebook, your sister wrote that you were always together, just that Ningning always had you because of the same classes.
Renjun drives smoothly; he's safe, wary, and looks at every turn. He even had to extend his right arm to prevent you from going forward when he suddenly hit the brakes. Then, there he breaks the silence. "The stars look a bit crowded tonight, don't they?" He asks you, and you are surprised as to why he's asking that.
You were winging this whole fake it till you make it fiasco, see if no one's noticing your memory loss, see if they can get in the crevices in your memory gap. But as far as you knew, no one was seeing through it. You looked out the window and checked the stars. "Uh…I don't think you can see anything, the fog covering it." You laugh, but he looks at you for a moment before looking into the road.
He sighed, and when you arrived at your building, he got out of the car too. He's sitting on the hood of his car, not fully, but just resting his butt there. His arms crossed, and staring at you with this sulky expression. "Are you not going home now?"
"No."
"Something wrong?" You hesitated to go into the lobby, to try to understand the situation. But Renjun smiled and gestured for you to get inside.
"Nothing, but you should go. Just need to breathe a little."
You nodded at his reassurance, then smiled before going inside the building and getting back to the comfort of your own house.
"The stars look crowded tonight."
"Move over then, you're taking up all the space."
There was an answer, and yet you're unable to follow through.
With your ass heating the booth, Renjun looks at you directly. It's been two weeks since you've gone and seen the whole group. They invited you out, and you didn't try to reach out. Mostly because your energy was out, and now you went out because Renjun had a compelling reason to take you out to a cafe. "Be honest with me." Then he takes a sip of his beverage as if to clear out his throat. "You're not telling me the whole truth. Please, for the love of god, be honest. You've been so sneaky the whole time. And my bestfriend is not an owl." Now you're confused, you're not sure what he meant. But you tilted your head to indicate that you are not matching each other's frequency. So you let out a small what, which made him scoff; he wasn't condescending. He finds this funny, and so you ask again, and when he repeats his question with his eyes set on you, you grit your teeth before deciding, hopefully wisely, about your answer.
༯ trope. lost love, memory loss, mind forgets but the heart remembers, exes to lovers
༯ the navi. one | two | three | four | five
With your curiosity eating at you, Ningning’s your only option to understand who you were—until you were faced with a few faces claiming how they missed you and one of them seemed like he couldn’t bear being around you.
Whatever details Ningning had given you a week ago are all written on the back of that yellow notebook, it is to make sure you are able to bring these puzzle pieces together—with or without your family's help. It's not that they're not trustworthy—but it seems everyone is not exactly aware of you own relationships in college. Your daily affairs, even if you had attended the same university as your siblings, is not shared with them. The day after that meeting with Ningning? There were no other memories lurking in your brain that is itching to be remembered, you can't even try to go through it without having to scratch your head. Even the confused look of your siblings and mother when you asked, "Is Jisung just a friend?" None of them budged and instead shrugged at the inquiry like it's nothing of importance.
Now, you're eating your Cheetos with cheesy hands while watching a movie that your siblings claimed that you've watched a lot of times during college. You wanted to burst out; you wanted to scream, and yet the fuel wasn't enough. So, you sat there sitting motionlessly—rotting in that couch until night falls just watching anything that auto-plays after the claimed favorite movie.
However, all of this makes you want to move forward, the knowing that the key of accessing endless files in your brain is just out there—it makes you pull on your hair. Thus, your act of rebellion begins with your agency to act to your own accord. No more waiting on mom or time to give you answers.
Starting with your phone—there has always been a series of number in your phone, yet none of it were you ever interested in trying to talk to. It's not like your family are hiding you from anything, they just think that you deserve some time for yourself and exhausting yourself by reading too much into the past might stress you out. But now? You're ready, you wanted to pick up where you were left you last life. You're lucky you already finished undergrad at the time. Or else you would be repeating the years you worked hard for.
Opening your phone wasn't a difficult task, so once you've opened it went through your contacts; there's Ningning. Her contact name frozen in time with a tiny heart emoji next to it. Before today, before you were compelled to find out your own life, you frowned on it and just shrugged—it looked like another name that your family were pushing you to remember. Why they never told anyone about your accident was beyond your understanding, but it never bothered you. Maybe it was just your mom's sensitivity to what happened that held everyone back, but that's besides the point. You have your power now, and you'll use it accordingly. Hovering above the dial button, you contemplated the unseen, future ramifications.
There's no time to hesitate—and when the vibrating sound of the dial tone awakens you, and her piercing squeal on the other side. You answered with a polite "Hello."
"No way! Look who decided to crawl out of the witness protection program! Honestly, I should be mad—" Ningning just kept going and your mutters to cut her off and try to make a conversation wasn't substantial enough to have her attention and thus, she continues, "…but I'm too busy being impressed that you still have my number—"
"Ning—"
"I wanted to ask more about your whereabouts the last few years—" You just realized how she's slightly slurring her words as she speaks to you and the people in the background are screaming in excitement that you understood the part that she's probably drunk and is at a party. "..but that old lady took you from me before I could ask more—"
"Ning, calm down." You sghed when she finally took a pause and she giggled, "I want to schedule—"
"Schedule? You never do that—you always give me a now answer! Come on, I'll send you my location, and you can map it out from there." Before you could speak, try to get a word in there, she just ended the call and you've got no choice but to look at the sent location.
You never go out late—wait, as far as you knew you never did. You think. The whole thing was a little too fast. You've never been to a party as far as you remember, funny, you felt like you have. It's not too bad if you sneak out tonight, you're in your twenties, surely your mom won't try to go apeshit if she ever find out, right? Taking a deep breath an ruminating on the consequences, you know you want to go, but you shouldn't. It's still seven, but your mom won't be home, she's staying late with your siblings at work. Having to own a company and your children helping out when they can is such a beautiful thing, and that would mean it'll be passed down bloodline to bloodline. Your future is guaranteed to have a great flow—if you know how to manage it, that is.
You wore your usual baggy jeans, and a sweater. It's cold, and the breeze isn't what you're used to. And once you've arrived—with your brother's car. The parking is full, and it took you a whilebefore you could get a spot. This area in the city is always packed with people during the night, and having to be in a place that is swarming by sweaty and drunk people is not supposed to surprise you, yet it overwhelms you. It's been a while since you've been around strangers, you don't doubt that you've been around strangers—you were in college for god's sake! Everyone was a stranger until;
The moment you got out of the car, in your usual style, people still looked. Others widened their eyes the moment they saw you. It made you conscious, aware that this place isn't for you; hence, a decision was made and you quickly went inside the car again before a hand grabs your wrist.
Ningning. Her beautiful and youthful face that's red and puffy from drinking. It's only been an hour and she's that drunk. "Hey, Ning." You greeted just like before, you noticed just how much you've spoken and all you do is a greeting; she barely makes you utter words, that's good since you never even wanted to talk much about yourself, because how can you? All trapped like a Rapunzel in mother's tower.
Ningning once again squeals in celebratory hugs too. Some people looked, but also left them together, what you weren't aware of were the people that were staring at you in shock cannot believe that you are here. And the fact that you cannot recognize them is making you anxious. All of them all at once joined in on the drunk embrace, whining about how they missed you a lot over the years, and it deepens the hollowness in your chest. You could only recognize; Ningning, Renjun, Jaemin, Mina, and Minjeong—whom are all hugging you. The others are just looking at the circle you created with just your presence, and when they pulled back. Everyone's focused on you, there' exactly eight people around, blocking some way for the parked cars or others that are just exiting the world of fun to go home and rest.
Another said they missed you, a girl with this amazing long hair says, and suddenly they all started talking all over each other about who misses you more. Even almost crying when they got to hold you again. With an awkward smile you tried to get them to calm down, and yet their excitement knows no bounds. It's already too much for you that it makes you awkward to even notice three set of eyes; one, awkward; two, avoidant; and three? He's just lost, scared, probably a lot of emotions there that you're is not even well-oriented with. The lack of emotional stimulation throughout the years, made you forget what it felt, and being re-introduced to it by getting slapped in the way with how this man moved. And when he approached you with that deep voice breezing past your face just to say hi? It made you realize that this man is the guy Ningning says was your guy.
Everyone was quiet, despite the loud party going on in that building of drunk people. "So are we gonna stay like this the whole time or—" Jaemin spoke, also wanted to address the elephant in the room, yet feels that everything needs to be a little calm before approaching the problem.
Then a unison of suggestions and awkward ahhs and oohs coming from the rest. Obviously, feeling the heaviness of the situation, and the sense of responsibility is coming in to set in their own chests—wanting to fix it at the moment. But they know that this isn't their problem, this isn't theirs to fix. But you won't know that unless you know what you're facing, and unfortunately, you don't. Hell, you didn't even know that when Ningning invited you out here you'd be having an eventful night—and honestly, it's making you feel everything, everywhere all at once. "Maybe we should go to your house Renjun!" This time it was final, and it was this blonde dude with sharp eyes who spoke this time. Also, he pats Jisung's back and leading him somewhere else, and Minjeong mirrors this action and started asking you about yourself, she was soft-spoken, there wasn't much description about this girl except for the fact that her nickname is Winter and that she's a friend.
"We should taake your caaar, princess peach." Jaemin says intentionally dragging hiswords as if to tease the girls which earned him a glare.
"Haha, very funny." says Minjeong.
You only wanted some peace and quiet, the fact that you had to go through this without having to be ready. And it's a great deal that they kept talking over each other and essentially forgettin that you have a mouth, no one even asked why you didn't react the waya person should react when they haven't seen a friend in a long time. It's either you pay your gratitude to the liquor or the fact that they just like to talk. "My car won't fit all of us—"
"Yeah! I'll drive your car, Ning, Minjeong, Renjun, and you will ride with me." Jaemin says excitedly, before opening the passenger seat for you with his matching pose of a footman.
You couldn't even hesitate since this man already called dibs on the driver's and he happily takes his places when he rounds the car. The rest takes their places, and the remaining group; blond dude, the muscular, and Jisung will occupy another car.
The first few minutes in that car as Jaemin drove was silent, everyone wanted to speak, only you didn't, only you were the unaffected one. But not dense, you knew they were thinking about, you just can't feel the growing tension yourself—because you have no memory of anything.
Renjun was the first to speak, at first he tries to get a little bit of the situation to ease. To get you on their side, "We heard from Ningning you were around," He was wary—almost like a person being careful around the birds. "We were kind surprised—and excited—" Renjun was cut off by Ningning while Jaemin stares into the road, busing himself with driving. "…and excited," He adds, before popping his head to get a look good at you. "…we never heard from you for such a long time." A sad chuckle came out of Renjun, and you tilt you head to look at him.
You've no idea who these people are except the fact that they were written up like criminals in that little notebook, and labels and little information about them. It also sounded like they loved you, like they knew who you were before all of these happens, so even without feeling much, except for the subtle excitement in your system because you found people that will be able to uncover everything that you were. You indulged them,allowed yourself to interact more than necessary—the opposite of what you had come to know yourself to be. The curated, reserved person you were was kept, and another persona that seemed to flow out naturally as you talk came out. "Ah…I was with my mom the whole time."
In unison, everyone reacted, started speaking over each other:
"where—" "we missed you" and "you should've told us." They all sounded whiny, but you smiled affectionately.
"Well, you have to tell us more about this when we get to our place!" Jaemin says enthusiastically, even if he's a little tipsy, he's able to safely get all of you to the place. First, having you out was important, and without waiting for anyone, Minjeong and Ningning took you inside the apartment first.
It was a cozy place, there were less decoration but has its character. "You should roam around for a bit, we'll help prepare the place." Says Minjeong with her pale face slightly flushed.
You did just that, you've never been inside anyone else's house, except your own home and Mrs. Lim—it's the first time being inside a house of someone your own age. They seem established and doing well—until you bumped into the man Ningning had told you about, Park Jisung. You approached the candle without knowing its harm, you wouldn't know because you were burning for more yourself. "Hi." You greeted, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, yet he mumbled a greetings which was less enthusiastic. Even if he doesn't want talk much, you want to know. That's how stubborn you are. "You don't talk much, huh?" This time he hid his hands in his sweater, almost appearing like he's confused. Weren't you guys dating before?
"We're really talking casually?" He says, it wasn't harsh, but it was enough to remind you that this was the ex, it was a wrong move to even talk to him.
You were already feeling awkward, you felt yourself get warmer as you spend more time being in his vicinity. Slowly, you retract your steps and let out a sheepish sound. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, bad move?" He sighed at your helpless self, and decided to just give you a wary smile before leaving you there to continue going around the house.
You didn't want to ask anyone about who's who, so when the bulky guy touched your shoulder causing you to jump on your feet, you almost die. "Woah, calm down, princess." This one was friendly, his eyes slants even with the slightest curve of his lips. You mumbled an apology since he was holding a bag of chips inside, and probably more alcohol on the other bag. You were in the way, but he says, "It's okay." They were only observing you, even with minding their own business and talking over each other, making the house more lively and colorful with their slightest interaction—you can feel their eyes wandering where you are. You were already getting cold feet and have been wanting to strut out that door and never return; trash out all your plans to find out more. Yet you stilled, and the bulky man chucked when he saw you dissociating. "You feel new?" He's ask and you could only open your mouth then close it again. He was stuffing the fridge with alcohol, and some snack meant to be cold for a time while talking to you. "You really surprised everyone, specially Jisung."
This time you really can't talk, so you just listened to him. "So, you guys have always been together?" Your inquiry made him smile.
"Yes, like you didn't know that." He sighs, "well, you weren't exactly there to see the things we've been through together the past few years." You flinched at his implication, not because you felt like he was attacking you, but because you fear he might ask more than what you know. You can't just pop the news and tell them you almost died while they were celebrating during the time of their lives. He pulls on your hand and lead you to the living room where the game console was in in case anyone wants to play, and drinks surrounding the center table. Thus, your girlfriends excitedly sat you down in the middle of the couch, and the others found their own spaces. Renjun drank his own wine, and the others had their own personalities displayed with their own alcohol of choice.
"You have to tell us all that you did! What were you doing?" Renjun starts.
"Where you were." Minjeong joins in.
And the sharp-eyed male, whom you still have no idea what his name is joins too, "any boyfriends—" he asks, and without warning, get jabbed by Jisung himself, earning a laugh from everyone else around.
Everyone around stops laughing and just looked at you, you felt pressured to answer, but you did so anyway. "I was just at home." Everyone thought you were joking, so they throw in a few jokes.
"Impossible, you loved going out. Didn't you dream of going to Europe?" Renjun says, and along with it a collective nods came rom almost everyone except Jisung, whose participation in this meeting seemed non-existent.
"I did?" Suspicious glances is what you received, but then changed your answer when Jisung cranes his neck almost immediately. "I do, yeah. But I didn't have time, I'm mostly with my mom and siblings. Sian and Sean have been helping me out a lot."
"So you were trapped in mommy's crib, is that it?" Sharp-eyes has a sharp-tongue and it made you uncomfortable.
"Not really, I help out…sometimes."
But of curse, Jaemin and the others do not want to spoil the mood and instead asked you other questions that you will be able to answer. "Chenle, don't be too mean." Jaemin rolls his eyes before smiling at you.
The night ended with them just giving you ll the fun things they did while you were out of their life. Minjeong also started animatedly telling stories about how her vacation with Ningning is France was just a myriad of tales about how some French people (not everyone) will just start cursing at them just because they were Asian. Jaemin also started telling stories about how life wasn't the same without you around, along with Renjun adding lot to the stories, reminiscing about college. Jeno was quiet the whole time and sometimes joining in with the funny stories everyone would tell without noticing how you weren't able to interact much about anything they have. Chenle is as mean as he looks, maybe not mean, but he's not taking any bullshit from anyone. Until they brought up their dating histories. Which you could not relate yourself to.
"Can't we all address the elephant in the room?" Chenle speaks up, already gone was his inhibition along with the empty bottle in his hand. Slurring his words as he's flushed red, before pointing the bottle towards you and Jisung. "Come on, guys, we're all adults here. Jisung and our pretty princess, reunited at last…can't we talk about this?"
Jisung, who had been drinking all alone, on his own—glares at Chenle yet he doesn't try to stop him; because he too, wants to know your stand. You noticed how he just sat there with his hand wrapped around his own drink, and fully drinks in one go. Everyone was silent, almost uncomfortable with the situation, but they waited for you. They were patient. "Talk about what?" You had asked.
"Oh, you know, is there still some brewing feelings in that heart of yours for our little Jisungie?" Chenle says.
The girls and Renjun, pats you lap and tells you how you didn't need to answer that. Yet you didn't back dow, allowed yourself to speak. "Honestly, I don't remember much. It's all hazy." You say, without having them suspicious of your condition. "It's a relationship that ended on terms that only Jisung and I decided on." Surprising yourself with your answer, mature and calm. You don't even know how you ended that relationship, so being vague was your only option. "It's probably not a fun answer. But that's all, that's all I can give everyone."
The atmosphere was already dead the moment Chenle asked the question. So they decided to keep the night for whomever is still up to do whatever they want and most of them went to sleep. Renjun does have two bedroom, and a lot of couches.
The night may be over for tonight, but there was something else—you don't know it, but there's something. Probably has something to do with Jisung's wounding stares.
༯ trope. lost love, memory loss, mind forgets but the heart remembers, exes to lovers
༯ the navi. one | two | three | four | five
This is where it starts, this is where you choose for yourself.
It just wasn't the day that she forgot, she forgot the four years she made memories and built the future she had exerted herself to. The hospital wasn't friendly to those who visit it, often delivering news that anticipates hope only to break a person's soul. But not this one, not her—even with serious injuries that could lead to a fatal death, she still hasn't flat-lined. People would say she's strong for fighting, but is it really fighting if she wasn't even aware that she's having the life she established, slowly stolen away from her with each beat of her heart that depends on a machine?
No one was crying, no one knew. Not even her friends who celebrate the mark of a new life, her graduation. While everyone celebrated, even when they questioned their absence, they had no choice but to commemorate by forgetting the existence of another. Yes, they called. Maybe a ring or two, but when nothing came, they couldn't be bothered to.
For days, however, the mother mourned her daughter that lied on the gurney, not dead, barely alive. Her handkerchief wiped the unstoppable tears, leaving her cheeks red and the friction burns from the frequent dabbing of said cloth onto her flesh. She wished for today to be a dream, even realizing just how much life is a fragile thing. With one snap of a finger, anyone may be taken, and you'll never know the last time you spoke to them or have seen them. When the doctor hands her the consent to take off life support, signing means giving up, but it also means her sweet daughter didn't have to feel any more pain. What can she do, right? She's a devoted mother with hopes to see her child awake again, without any pain or burden of what might have happened.
Either way, it all ends in one decision that only she can settle for. Whether it's safety, protection, or letting go—the daughter will either thank her for this or live long enough to resent her cloudy verdict, and that's not something she bothers herself with. A judgment made by grief and love, a head that lacks tranquility, and based on anger that engulfs the heart of a mother's loss. And the entrance to that deep darkness is what she never expected in raising her child on her own—when she yearned for her children's greatness.
The light was bright once you had woken up; the blanket was thick enough to cover your body from the cold seeping through the small crack of the window that you forgot to close last night fully. Then, you pouted when you realized how much you needed to stand and walk a few steps to get there. But instead, you left it open before you went downstairs, greeted by your brother and sister, each of them doing their own chores so they could leave food for everyone who was left alone for the day. "Good morning." It was received well by your siblings, who only smiled, a colorful greeting for a Monday morning.
"Slept well?" Sian, the second child, her sophisticated approach as she set down your breakfast never fails to amaze, also plopping the thick notebook they've been filling up for three to four years—that ugly, worn yellow Moleskine that just refuses to be replaced.
You only nodded as you sat down, grabbing the notebook, slowly flipping through it, and then your brother, the youngest, Sean, kissed your cheeks before putting down a glass of milk. "Here. You need your calcium." Before picking up his own bags and dragging Sian out so they could go to work together.
An ear-piercing silence enwraps the house as you nibble on your food, conscious that it's just your presence alone. During this time, you meditate on the notebook; each letter written on it is a reminder, not a memory, but descriptions of the people who are keys to uncovering your past. You'd only been able to know your mother's voice, sister's habits, and brother's chubby cheeks when you woke up, not the mature-looking sister, a depressed mother, and a slightly grown brother. Everything was new, undeniably, and it was difficult to try to catch up when your memory resets at the most inconvenient time.
Thus, these written letters are your guide to stepping into those lifetimes. However difficult, you liked making up scenarios at this point, with the names of these people popping up, bad handwriting, and printed photos.
Jaemin.
Jeno.
Chenle.
Jisung.
Jaehyun.
Ningning.
…and others
It was a list that you repeat, a mundane task that you relive, and words that you read to memorize, and remember even just an inkling of what it might be. Yet, none ever resurfaces; it only drowns you in pain and headaches in the next few hours if you exhaust your brain energy, as Sean calls it. The kid is the same, but also different in how he approaches you—for god's sake, he's a grown kid when you woke up thinking you were still sixteen. You reckon everyone's awkward; since there's no more bandaged head to remind them or you of the accident, it became a tolerable sight. Yet, the air is not clear, and everyone walks on eggshells. You discussed that one time; your mother burst out crying after it, hence, you never brought it up again. It was something that denied you any type of genuine connection with your family that time. Unlike before, when they could just try to fight each other for the one cookie left, and your mother broke it off by taking out another batch of the same cookies.
The sensitivity around that time made you aware of how the reason what everyone has their guard up, that if you ever try to speak about it, it will raze the lifestyle they curated for you. So, you try to build yourself from scratch, with just these names and the relationships written along with them.
As you retain the names, trace them back to your mind, do your daily chores, clean the table after eating, and wash dishes. Do a little sweeping, and keep the laundry going, then fold them. Unlike Cinderella, you were treated better, loved more, and taken care of whenever one of them was around. Taking turns on watching over you, and since you're the only one here, you took the initiative to do even the lightest activity to keep your body moving. That was what the doctor said. It's a little suffocating when you have to stay home, then require supervision when you go out. You'd even ask Mrs. Lim next door, since she's sweet and understands the situation.
Often, you would ask what happened to your friends; Sian, Sean, and your mother refused to let you see them until you're fully healed, or had recovered anything that gives you an inkling about these people. So, without any question, you adhered. You were completely out of touch with yourself, without any idea of your identity; who you were, what you liked, except for the things you liked as a teenager.
Shame. That was how you perceived yourself, with your whole family moving forward with their lives—and you're the only one left behind to figure out your life when you're a Tabula Rasa.
To be able to meet or see them, you're not sure if you'll ever be able to. Leaving it to the gods seems like a better option… If you believe in one. Letting your own life walk in the path, you're not sure if it's something you should choose.
The drowsiness is getting to you, bored with the thoughts that consumed you, you muster the courage to stand up and invite old Mrs. Lim to a shopping spree, if she's even willing to walk for an hour, that is. "Mrs. Lim." You knock three times exactly, as the old woman would have wanted, with her particular taste and nitpicking nature. She likes precision and perfectly aligned trains of glass cups in her cupboard. Her home even smells like cookies and tea when the door opens with a sweet, welcoming greeting that is rehearsed so many times—surely, you heard her count to three before granting you entry.
"Hello, dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?" You chuckled when you saw how hard she was trying to stretch her cheeks impossibly painfully to address you. Gesturing for her to relax, formalities weren't necessary; thus, the tension in her form sags. "Oh, thank goodness." Before sighing and tightening the hold on her knob. "What do you need, dear?" This time, without performance—god knows what she went through—you could only imagine the reasons why she habitually smiles when she opens her door.
Almost immediately, you jumped at the opportunity. "Mrs. Lim, I want to go shopping." And just like your timing, the old lady refused you.
"Oh dear, I told you, you need to give me at least three days before I come out of the house." Mrs. Lim clicks her tongue before wiping her forehead with her shirt.
"But—Mrs. Lim, I'm bored." You pout, and Mrs. Lim groans inwardly, and then leaves you by the door to enter her peaceful home.
"I'll drink my milk first," she stomps into her kitchen, "Clean your feet first! I don't want a mess on my floor."
"Yes, Mrs. Lim," Her home is a museum, all perfect mathematics, with its shapes and sizes, the gaps and spaces. That's how precise Mrs. Lim is.
Mrs. Lim donned her cute, ready-to-wear Prada puffer jacket that matched the color of winter. You admired her meticulousness; even her rigorous ritual caught you by surprise. "It's to prepare myself for the outside." She scrunches her nose as she proceeds to count her glasses. Once outside, she waited for it to sing its lock before walking alongside Sin, whose focus was on which item to spend her money on. Or if Mrs. Lim is generous for the day, it wouldn't be so bad either.
The mall was filled with smothering salespeople trying to convince you to buy their product. All of its expensive contents; may it be perfumes, make-up, or branded clothes, they won't back down—even when you have six different people surrounding you, curiosity playing in your eyes, you explore every option and essentially indulge their sales talk with inquiries, knowing that you won't be purchasing anything from them…uhh, people pleasing tendencies. On the other hand, Mrs. Lim followed your steps; she herself had a few people targeting her with their compelling stories about how this item is the product of the year. But she's older, so she's good with just shrugging them off.
Until both of you ended up in one of the shoe stores, where reds and blues saturated the boring white walls in an aisle that impressed the older woman, and decided to sit on one of the couches and watch it on her own. You, on the other hand, fixated on those cute white pumps at the entrance, worn by that shiny, hairless mannequin. Without thinking twice, the saleswoman immediately went to the back to get one in your size. It's just another day of you pointing things and getting them instantly. You waited patiently—checking a few things.
A screeching sound shook the whole store, and so were you. The strange lady shook you like a rag doll. You were cluelessly frowning at her, even scoffing—but this lady seemed familiar, friendly, and absolutely beautiful. Ningning. You recognized her from the photo attached to that name. She looks slightly different, slimmer, even her baby cheeks are gone, but surely this woman is the red-haired woman in your notebook.
Panicked, Mrs. Lim rushed to push Ningning off you. The commotion alerted security, and a sales rep approached the scene. "You're hurting her!" Mrs. Lim says as Ningning glares at her for trying to ruin her hair.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks in her high-pitched tone, almost furious, but before it could escalate further, you speak up, face brightening at the sight of the new girl in front of you. The warmth in your chest spreads throughout; thus, halts Mrs. Lim and Ningning's argument. Now, both staring at you with Mrs. Lim's hand in Ningning's ruined hair.
"Hi, Ningning." There, it felt right. The way you said it, sounding so fulfilled, and the small glimpses of a smiling red head, a contrast to her now present chestnut appearance, and gone were her childish features. A redirection, a chance to know what you need to know.
She sighed dramatically when she heard her name from your lips. Without any warning, she embraces you, causing you to stumble a little before gaining your balance. Patting her back was the only way you could comfort her. Whatever was going on between the two of you bewildered poor 'ole Mrs. Lim, yet upon seeing your expression of joy, she walked away, but not letting her guard down.
"Girl, I missed you!" Her giggly tone, slightly followed by a sniffle, got you pulling away to see her tearing up; the security understood the message and returned to their own posts. "It has been so long!" You didn't respond to that, only glancing at Mrs. Lim, who nodded. Ningning and you engage in a long conversation about the graduation aftermath—that you have no memory of—attentively listening to her even after the arrival of your white pumps in new stock. "Didn't you have the exact one three years ago?" Ning's inquiry stunned you, but composed, hoping that your losses over the years weren't so obvious.
"I did?"
"Yeah, you always wore them even when you were in pain," Ning points out, examining it before handing it back to her in a swift movement, almost gentle and mindful. Ningning's not there for a moment, and shrugs it off before smiling and moving on to another topic. "So—where have you been? You've been quiet; no one has seen you for years." She chuckles, "It's like you've been wiped off the face of the earth, and no one could find you."
You knew Ningning had more to inquire about, yet she held back. Why? You do not know, nor are you officious about it. It does look like she's being careful from what you've observed when she started uttering events that do not concern you and Paris. It's not like you can fault the woman for that. She's a person who missed her friend, and talking to someone's ear off seemed like something she'd do most of her time. It really seemed like something that she's a natural at. "Ah, I went to my mom's on graduation." It was the one thing your mom told you. It was the most reasonable excuse they could think of. You were aware of how much of a lie that was. Bringing up the accident would be too much to explain, just like what your mother would say—so they opted for a lie first, until you were comfortable telling the truth, or anyone in the family. It's not like you have a say in that anyway.
Ningning sighed, only nodding at how accurate it was, how it was the move you're likely to do. "That does sound like you, you really didn't like the professors and the university." Ning pats your back as if to comfort you, and again, it was another question as to why she does this. So sympathetic. "But are you sure it wasn't about Jisung?" There, later being careful, Ningning finally gives you another light to begin with.
"Jisung?" It was another name, but the only thing written there was friend, nothing else. So it was safe to assume that this Jisung person did not relate to you in any way, until today when Ningning uttered the name.
"Yeah Jisung." Ningning laughs, "Don't tell me you forgot about him—you guys dated, remember?"
Now, this is new information—this is one of those moments that got you curious, and it's starting to put too much strain on you, and there's a desire to escape the situation. Though your chest was strained for air, you maintained a smile and listened. A rush of big, fat tears ran down your cheeks, but you were quick to wipe them. "Yes." Ningning was too focused on telling the stories about you, but the ring in your ear was too loud. "It... too long...can't really remember." Her words barely registered, and she noticed how they lacked the usual enthusiasm coming from you. She felt different talking to you without getting cut off.
Before you knew it, Mrs. Lim was grabbing your arm, taking your white pumps in a box, and going straight to the cashier to pay for them. Yes, you were able to bid your farewells, but she wanted to get you to stay a while longer, if not for the impatient woman murmuring about wanting to go home as she paid for the item, and carrying the bag as your bottom lip puffed out from crying fully this time. And as you went, she hailed a cab for both of you. This time, your sobs are heard loud and clear. Mrs. Lim knew that when you get like this, your mother often asks for help, knew you needed help, usually she does, but this time? She didn't, because what you needed was an outlet; you needed to cry.
The way home wasn't smooth, the traffic was heavy, and the driver just wanted to get you two home. Forty minutes later, you arrived at the establishment, carrying only a bag of one item for that shopping spree. Your floor was quiet, with only two doors for two families residing on that floor. Mrs. Lim hasn't let you go home yet; she lets you inside her home. And almost automatically, you organize your shoes on the side before entering the neat home and sitting on the couch with an empty look in your eyes. The older woman quietly prepares something in her kitchen before the warm beverage. You're calmer this time, allowing yourself to drink into the cup, its beautiful fragrance calmed you; chamomile. "Thanks."
"Your mother needs to know about what happened."
No response, except for the fidgeting on the handle of the fine china, and when you looked up at the woman. "Mom will know when I tell her."
Without pushing the conversation into a space that you didn't want to be in, you stood up from the couch and bowed. Before leaving Mrs. Lim, head straight to your own house.
Your mother greets you with the nicest lilt wrapped around her voice. The usual tone that your mother is working on to be more normal. Despite the break in your voice whenever she talks to you. "Hi, Mom." The usual greeting is a hug with a slight sway from side to side to appear enthusiastic.
"My beautiful girl, how are you today? Mrs. Lim said you invited her out today."
"Yes. Yes, I did." The forlorn tone wasn't unnoticed, but your mom didn't push it, allowed you to have some for yourself, and you're delighted that she's in the mood to give you some peace for yourself, even if it's not much. The emotion that you haven't felt in a long time finally resurfaced. Have you ever felt it before? You didn't care; you just knew that there was a point to explore. It's only a shame you weren't able to ask for Ningning's number or contact information before you got a full-blown anxiety attack that left you empty even after it was over.
"Sian and Sean will be working overtime today. So it'll be just us, hm?" Your mom affectionately traced your chin with her sharp, manicured nails, and you nodded, joining your mother for the early dinner. You only hoped that you could get in contact with Ningning again soon, so you'd know more about everything. For so long, your siblings told you it was okay to forget, that it's okay that the past be forgotten, because you may create new ones. Even your mother taught you the importance of the future, how it's the only thing that matters, and so is the present. The past apparently was never accounted for, if it doesn't affect what happens now.
But it felt empty, too mundane to make scenarios and be left alone at home, and make up for memories you'd missed just because you forgot you went to a theme park during your first year in college with your siblings. You had to go a second time—first time again for you—you could relive the memories. But at the end of the day, nothing came up, and it was only a newly made account of what happened that day.
༯ the stats. 18.4k words | fluff, angst, slow burn
༯ trope. lost love, memory loss, mind forgets but the heart remembers, exes to lovers
༯ the navi. one | two | three | four | five
the synopsis. No one knew about anything she had to encounter; her family rebuilt her memories for her, from her best friends, professors, and acquaintances. They did everything to include everyone and everything in their lists of people for her to remember. The depth of these relationships, although they were unable to truly dig more, for her to remember, she wandered her brain when she could. Painful memories were hidden for a reason, and she doesn't think that remembering anyone is relevant, until Park Jisung met her again three years after graduation, with questions and doubts filling his mind when she acted like he was just a passing person in a reunion.
