dawon felt trapped inside of a nightmare that wouldn’t end.
her training at nova went on as if nothing at all had happened, and it was one of the only things that had kept dawon from breaking down, if only for a little while. if she could lose herself in her practice, if she could shut her heart and mind off completely, then maybe, just maybe, she would make it. maybe then she wouldn’t have to deal with the departure of her best friend, and maybe then she could trick herself into thinking that she was happy.
but she wasn’t happy, and, for the first time in months, not even her training provided the solace that she so desperately sought. ever since signing with nova, throughout every moment, dawon had always felt as though she was waiting for something. she had always assumed that, soon enough, jiae would walk through nova’s door, making dawon the happiest girl in the world by surprising her with the news that she would be their newest trainee. she’d replayed the scenario in her head a million times, though it was now evident that it would never become reality.
what would she do without her best friend—without her luck—without her sunlight? the two should debut together, they were meant to debut together—but jiae was gone, and now dawon was forced to trudge ahead knowing that jiae would never be a part of her future. she would be forced to stay at nova on her own, only, now, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. her future was now devoid of all light, and each day she would come one step closer to darkness. nova could announce her debut tomorrow, but what good was debuting if it meant that she’d be debuting alone?
did all of this mean nothing to jiae? was this not the future that she desired?
she hardly remembers the rest of her training that day, her mind entirely elsewhere, dwelling on the reality that jiae would never experience any of this alongside her. no longer would dawon have the chance to show jiae the ropes of being a trainee, patiently helping her friend adjust to the difficult life in which she would live. those were the moments that she had looked forward to, and those were the moments that would never come to be.
as she approaches the door to what had once been their apartment, though it would now be hers and hers alone (along with meeko), she finds herself praying that everything that had happened up until that point had been nothing but a dream. she wants nothing more than to open the door only to discover yoo jiae sitting there on their stupid rug while eating a stupid bowl of cereal. she wants nothing more than to hear jiae’s complaints when meeko so eagerly showers dawon with love, despite the fact that it had been her who had taken care of the pup all day while dawon was away. she wants nothing more than to see her, as that would be enough to assure her that everything would be okay.
but, when the door finally opened, it was once again made clear that everything was not okay.
the apartment was desolate, and her sunlight was nowhere to be found.
not even meeko ran to greet her, given that she’d left him in the hands of junyeong until she’s able to concoct a more permanent solution for how he’ll spend his days while she’s at nova.
she lingers in front of the doorway for a prolonged moment, not wanting to face the cold reality that yoo jiae was actually and truly gone. in fact, she didn’t want to do much of anything.
and in that moment, nam dawon felt utterly alone.
unable to contain her emotions any longer, dawon storms further into the apartment, consumed by rage as she takes the rug in her hands before forcefully throwing it across the room. being destructive wasn’t going to solve anything, she knew, but she’d be lying to say that the venting didn’t help at all. before she’s able to process what she’s doing, she’s somehow already made her way to her bedside, tearing down the nova flyer that had once shone a beacon of hope, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries to make sense of everything that she was feeling. was she feeling angry? dejected? both and more?
she’s unsure as to how much time she spent sobbing with her back pressed against her bed, though she doesn’t suppose that she’d care to know. a month ago, she would have scolded herself for wasting the time that could be put to better use practicing—but what was the point? she now knew with utmost certainty that she was doomed to fail. it wasn’t like she’d make it on her own, so why bother at all? now, everything felt pointless, and there was absolutely nothing that she could do that could ease her thoughts.
it feels as though she’s there crying for an eternity, though, when her tears finally subsided, she’s only sitting there for a few moments before she’s pulling herself back onto her feet, eagerly searching for the journal that she’d all but forgotten with time. she's determined to record her feelings, partially to vent, and partially to ensure that she never forgets them. with any luck, which she’s been in short supply of lately, she’ll never have to go through something like this again—she’ll never have to experience heartbreak like this again.
when she finally locates it, she draws in a deep breath before flipping it open to the first page. perhaps this was the push that she had needed to finally feel motivated enough to keep a journal, though she wishes that it had been better circumstances that had brought her to this moment.
and so she pours her emotions out onto the page, refusing to hold back as she possesses no need to. there were times in which the tears would threaten to cloud her vision, making it difficult to see, but she manages to persevere despite this. in a way, writing so freely helps her to feel slightly better, even if it hardly made a difference.
you’re gone.
you left yesterday, but i don’t think it hit me until now.
i came home expecting to see your smile, but it wasn’t there. you weren’t here.
why? why did you leave? why did you abandon me?
is it selfish of me to think that way?
if the shoe were on the other foot, i wouldn’t have left you. not after so many promises.
although, the more i think about it, the less i remember if you made the same promises to me. did i imagine the whole thing? did i force my wishes upon you? did i put too much weight on your shoulders?
did you leave because of me?
or, better yet... if i had confessed my feelings, would you have changed your mind? would you have stayed with me? or would i have made a complete fool of myself?
i cared for you more than you cared for me, right? isn’t that why i’m in this situation? isn’t that the reason that you’re gone?
i don’t want to resent you. not after everything that you’ve done for me. but i just... i can’t understand why you had to go. was i not enough? was our friendship one-sided?
no... you aren’t that selfish. it must have been hard for you to leave, right? or was it easy?
i was in love with you, damn it... did you even know? was it that difficult for you to see?
i hate you, yoo jiae. but i can’t help but love you, too.
and i miss you.
adapt or die.
but how can she ever hope to adapt when it feels as though she’s dying?
