1 Chapter 1 : Part 1

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

-Corinthians 13:4

Emma, in her old niche:

(Valentine's Day of 2019)

White bright ceilings, white wide walls, and off-white tiled floors, still looks the same. I can't believe I'm surrounded by them again. The enticing scent of alcohol, medicine, and hope caressed my nostrils like it missed it so much. But grief, the feeling of hairs from head to toe in attention, and moist in people's eyes, they're also still here. Still the same.

Cold breeze touched my cheeks as I walked through the door to Mr. Gracey's office. I've never been this nervous my whole life of seeing a person. I even managed to face my worst teacher in the University during the alumni homecoming. What is this? I'm shaking. It's not like I owe him something. It's not like he owe me something. We don't have business anymore. It's been three years now.

"Don't worry, Emma." I whispered, trying to calm down.

"She's here!" The ladies in white oxford pair of blouse and pants whispered. They're looking at me like I'm a celebrity who is worth wasting their time chitchatting. It feels good to still have this impact. Like my existence makes some people excited. But not this way. Is it even their break time? It's still 9:30 in the morning.

"Please have a seat Do…Miss Emma." She offered. I can see her lips shaking but she managed to smile shyly.

"Thank you." I smiled shyly too.

" Mr. Gracey is still in a meeting but I already notified him of your presence. He seems glad." She added.

He should be. For three years, this is the first time I gave in to his summon. I hope he won't irritate me this time.

I sat in front of the table, checking the rack for a new issue of BTS magazine to say goodbye to my boredom. Oh this one, Times magazine.

"Many in our parents' generation were born right after the Korean War," said Suga. "And so they grew up not being able to eat or dress well. But in our generation, we -- our parents' sons -- are spreading Korean culture as its representatives, and seeing how much of Korean culture we are able to spread these days. Those from my parents' or my grandparents' generation, even more so than those from our generation, are very proud of us. They love seeing us on the news. And so for me, it's enjoyable to see my father proud of things like that."

Oh, they're going global. I mean, they're global already!

I enjoyed reading the article when…

"Last year today, Ms. Emma looked so scary, she was..." One said.

I listened to them while still looking at the magazine, but pretended that I did not hear any. I thought the time that I was gone was enough for them to forget about that, I hoped.

They stopped when I tilted my head. I should have acted naturally. I heard there were a lot of rumors about me, which most are fake.

Suddenly, a red thing flew at the edge of my eyes as I leaned my back to the spindle of the wooden chair. I realize it was a heart-shaped balloon that appeared in the window, flying towards the sky which made my feet move me to stand, looking outside the window.

It made me thought of life. Reaching your dreams and suddenly letting it go for a reason you don't actually want. Letting go of something so precious like that balloon might have been a mistake. No kid would do that like no human would ever waste their dreams trying to find oneself who grew by living that dream, being with that dream. I guess life's like that.

RM even said in their song, "Everyone is afraid of changes. Staying, moving on, staying, moving on. We keep repeating the same things again and again. I guess that's life, I'm afraid. Old or new, new or old, that isn't really important. What's important is, that we still breath and live in the same place. So let's move on."

Oh, and their song is playing. JK's cool voice filled the room – You say love is messed up. You say that it don't work. You don't want to try, no, no (You don't want to try, no, no).And baby, I'm no stranger to heartbreak and the pain of always being let go (Always being let go) — I grinned as I remembered that it's been a year since I've heard those typical love songs, now it's this— And I know there's no making this right, this right (This right) and I know there's no changing your mind, your mind (Your mind) but we both found each other tonight, tonight (Oh yeah) so if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time.

Bye… balloon.

I swept the curtains more on the side to have a great view. To see how busy the streets are today.

A grey-haired couple caught my eyes.

Baby, why not waste it on me? Waste it on me (Waste it on me)

They look cute as they smiled at each other. Their hands on each other's. Grandma is holding a white roses bouquet. Grandpa is filled with love and care. How I wish love always look like that. Especially to those who loves truly.

They crossed the street, guided by a kid who kept on looking above the sky. I think he unintentionally let go of the balloon. Kid, don't worry. There are still a lot of things that is going to happen in your life. Don't look so sad. That's no way near anything yet.

A bustling street it is. Flower stalls, chocolates, teddy bears, cards, balloons and heart-shaped eyes filled the Lincoln Street though it's still eight in the morning. Last year was the opposite.

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