Nari spent the rest of her day alone.
Alone with her remorse.
Alone with her dry tears that burned more than the ones that fell.
Alone with that memory of Sion she had thrown out, as if her heart had ripped its own flesh.
She stayed seated, motionless, trembling, her fingers clenched around her phone empty of notifications.
The same refrain kept running in her head, obsessive, sharp:
"Did you talk to someone about my mother?"
Again.
Again.
Again.
She racked her brain until it hurt, until she doubted herself, until she wondered whether she had spoken in her sleep, in a moment of drunkenness, in a dream.
But no.
No.
She knew it.
She hadn't said anything.
And yet, she felt guilty.
As if she had to be, by principle.
As if loving Sion meant bending under guilt even when she wasn't guilty.
She finally collapsed on the couch.
Not really sleeping, no.
Suffocating in silence until her body shut down on its own.
Her heart heavy.
Her eyes burning.
Her throat tied with a brutal, primitive kind of anxiety—the kind that comes from hurting the man she loved more than her own life.
The next day – Black Orchid – 7 p.m.
Still no news from Sion.
Every minute of silence felt like a threat inside her chest.
Every phantom vibration of her phone made her heart jump, for nothing, again and again, until her breathing became unstable.
While she washed glasses behind the counter, her hands trembled almost imperceptibly.
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Lost.
And in front of her, like a living painting too bright to be real, Aera and Kyo were bursting with laughter at the end of the bar.
Aera was doing an improvised strip tease on the still-empty stage, twirling around the glowing pole, rolling her hips, singing off-key to music that wasn't even playing yet.
Kyo, kneeling with his mop, burst into laughter, eyes squinted, belly shaking, unable to catch his breath.
Nari watched them.
A broken smile rose in her heart.
And, for the span of one beat, she saw herself.
She saw herself with them.
On that stage.
Barefoot.
Laughing loudly.
Blowing into the turned-off microphone.
Grabbing Aera's hand to spin with her, their hair flying in the purple lights, Kyo clapping, shouting "again! again!"
She saw herself jumping into Aera's arms, almost falling, screaming with laughter.
She saw herself slipping on the wet floor and laughing even more.
She saw herself with a gin tonic in hand, heart light, cheeks flushed, breathless with joy.
She saw herself alive.
She saw herself free, before the tightening, before the golden cage, before her oxygen was stolen, before her smile became nothing but a memory.
The illusion shattered.
Aera's laugh turned into an echo.
The light flickered.
The scene went cold again.
Nari lowered her head.
A glass slipped from her hands.
Shattered.
No one looked.
No one heard her heart shattering with it.
She whispered, barely audible:
— I ruined everything…
And she truly believed it.
Not out of victimhood.
Not out of theatrics.
Because she had destroyed friendship.
Because she had destroyed her social life.
Because she had destroyed Sion, and she was destroying herself.
Because she was no longer herself.
And it hurt.
Terribly.
Nari set her cloth down.
Without a word.
Without a breath.
Her fingers trembled so much she had to clench her fist to avoid dropping something else.
She crossed the staff hallway, pushed the metal door to the storage room, and stepped out into the small back courtyard.
The night air hit her like an icy slap.
She pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a trembling hand, inhaled—the smoke burning her throat like a reminder that she was still alive, despite everything.
She lifted her head toward the sky.
The starry sky of Seoul shone above her, cold, indifferent.
The moon, wide, white, lit her pale face, her swollen eyes, her purple circles, like a cruel spotlight.
She took a long drag.
And the question struck her.
Not like a thought.
Like a sentence.
What will my life be after?
She stayed still for a second.
Then another.
Then a third.
Will I stay alone my whole life?
With only Sion?
Will I be happy… if I live only with him?
If I die with him?
If I devote my entire life to him?
Her heart clenched, as if an invisible hand had grabbed it and twisted it.
Maybe I'm asking too much…
Maybe I don't know how to be content…
Maybe I'm the problem…
A bitter laugh escaped her.
A broken breath.
She lifted her head again, eyes shining.
Her old life…
So dull.
So flat.
Without color, without future, without destiny.
She had never thought further than the next day.
And now that the future unfolded before her, it looked like an abyss.
A bottomless abyss.
Without light.
Without exit.
A deep black.
Motionless.
Terrifying.
She inhaled again.
But her fingers let go of the cigarette.
It fell to the ground, burning out on the damp concrete.
Her legs gave out at the same time.
Her body collapsed, crushed by an invisible weight—mental, emotional.
A weight no human strength could carry alone.
The tears burst suddenly.
More violent than anything she had felt in days.
Tears ripped from her.
Tears that hurt physically, as if they were tearing her skin.
She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to stop her chest from exploding.
Her breath became ragged.
Chaotic.
Almost painful.
Under the moon, alone in the cold, she collapsed completely.
And her voice came out.
Weak at first.
Broken.
Invisible.
Then stronger.
More torn.
More desperate.
— God… ease my suffering…
She murmured it.
Then repeated it.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Ten times.
Twenty times.
It sounded like a dying prayer.
Her sobs rose inside her like a crushing wave.
Her cramps bent her in half.
Her heart pounded like a trapped animal.
Her throat tightened like a vise.
Then her voice broke:
— God… please… ease my suffering…