I spent the weekend curled up in my room, barely moving unless I had to.
My bed was the only place that felt safe—my only comfort. The only thing I could hug and cry into without feeling like I had to explain myself. I didn't even try to hold it in anymore. The tears I'd been swallowing back all week just... poured out. Nonstop. Like they'd been waiting for the right moment to break me down.
I didn't do much. Didn't want to. I didn't have the energy to go out, or even pretend I was okay. I barely ate. I barely slept. Most of the time I just lay there, staring at nothing, my phone forgotten beside me.
Sometimes I scrolled through old photos—of all of us laughing, eating, walking home from school like nothing could touch us. And every time, it felt like I was looking at strangers. Strangers who used to be everything to me.
I didn't know what hurt more—the fact that they could hurt me like that, or the fact that I still missed them.
And through it all, one thought kept repeating itself in my head, over and over:
*Why wasn't I enough for them to stay?*
And just like that, without me even realizing it, two days slipped by.
It wasn't until 10am on monday that I finally dragged myself out of bed. I stood in front of the mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back.
Swollen eyes. Tangled hair. A hollow kind of tiredness that went beyond sleep. My face was familiar, but my expression wasn't. My soul… it felt like it had gone somewhere far away and hadn't returned yet.
I reached for my makeup. Carefully, methodically, I started covering the wreckage. Concealer over the darkness beneath my eyes. Lip tint to fake a bit of life. A little highlighter, like maybe I still glowed on the inside. It almost worked. Almost.
But I still arrived late to class.
Again.
Got told to stand out in the hallway.
Again.
And there he was.
Joon-seo.
Again.
Of all the people to share hallway shame with, it had to be him. *What amazing luck. I think the universe is running a comedy show and I'm the punchline.*
We didn't speak.
He looked at me once—just once. For a second, it seemed like he wanted to come over, to say something.
I turned away before he could. *What does he want now, after pretending I didn't exist all this time? Why now?*
Last time I was late, we were strangers.
Now here we were… strangers.
Again.
During class, I kept my head down, refusing to even glance at their side of the room. I was doing fine—until Min-ah decided she needed an audience.
She sauntered up to me just before lunch, voice loud and bright like she'd done nothing wrong.
"Eun-ha! You left so early last time." She tilted her head like she was genuinely confused. "Do you… hate me or something?"
The room fell quiet.
Some heads turned. I could feel the weight of everyone's curiosity like a spotlight. I looked up slowly, meeting her wide, innocent eyes.
I knew that look—pretending to be the wounded one. Playing the part of the sweet girl who just couldn't understand why her *friend* was upset.
I let out a dry scoff. "Hate you?"
I stood up slowly. "Did you *do* something for me to hate you?"
She blinked, her smile faltering for a split second. I didn't wait for her answer. I grabbed my notebook and walked out without another word. My hands were shaking. My heart felt like it was twisting in on itself.
*What have I done? I wasn't always this rude…*
I felt bitter. But more than that—I felt guilty.
Guilty for snapping. For lashing out. For calling out my *friend* like that, even if she deserved it.
Outside, I sat down in my usual quiet spot under the tree near the vending machines. I opened my snack bag and stared into it, not even hungry.
*No. I shouldn't let my heart melt so easily again. People have always used me because I was too easy. Not anymore.*
A familiar voice cut through the quiet.
"Yo! Eun-ha~"
I looked up, startled.
It was Nari.
She sauntered over, soda can in one hand, her signature lazy grin plastered across her face. Without asking, she plopped down beside me like she'd been doing it for years.
"Heyyy… can I have some?" she asked, already reaching for a chip.
I gave a small, reluctant smile. "Sure."
She munched thoughtfully, then glanced at me. "Whoa. You okay? You look like crap."
I let out a snort-laugh through my nose, trying to hide the tears that threatened again.
"You've been crying," she said, more matter-of-fact than sympathetic. "What happened? Group stuff?"
I nodded faintly.
She didn't offer false comfort. No "it'll get better" or "they didn't deserve you." Just a shrug and a swig of her soda.
"Yeah. Friends are overrated."
I stayed quiet.
Then she said, more softly than I expected, "But crying over them? That's too much credit. Don't give them that."
My fingers curled around the snack bag. Her words weren't warm—but they were real. They didn't pretend everything would magically fix itself.
And maybe that was what I needed to hear.
Nari stood, brushing her hands off on her skirt. "Anyway, I'll leave you to your pity party. Just… don't stay here forever. You're better off doing something about it."
Nari might've been blunt, but she didn't seem like a bad person. Every word she said stung—but maybe that's why they mattered. I could see why people were intimidated by her, but maybe this was her way of comforting me.
I watched her walk off, still sipping her soda like she hadn't just rattled something loose inside me.
*Do something about it.*
For once, the idea didn't feel impossible.
Maybe what I needed wasn't an apology or closure… maybe it was a fresh start. One I'd give myself.