9 Voice (music)

When Sarah sees her dear friend's sorry state on her couch with a tissue box next to her, only one thought crosses her mind: Chad is a douchebag.

When she heard from Marguerite the reason why Chad decided to break-up with her, she was livid. How is that even a reason? Just because she can't have children? What a loser! Is this the 18th century? What kind of sorry excuse of an excuse is this?

She hugs Marguerite and calmly strokes her arms in a comforting way, her belly still full of indignation.

"Don't cry. He doesn't deserve your tears."

She suggests to get her some ice-cream and watch some silly films together so that she can distract herself from the pain. Marguerite quietly nods her head while sniffling to show that she accepts.

Leaving, she reminds her like a fretting mother not to open the door to strangers and not to leave the house without telling her. Then she gives her a spare key just in case and walks out. Marguerite being used to it since they were children manages to fork out a smile until she's out the door.

Marguerite is left alone in the house of her friend. She just continues to weep as if she were an abandoned widow. Who knows how much time passes and how long she cries in self-pity and mourning.

She didn't cry in front of Chad because she feels it is unbecoming of her to cry in front of another person. Anyone who truly understands Marguerite would know that her humble posture and low-key behaviour is just a polite front that came from her parent's good education, she is, in reality, a very proud person. Matter-of-fact, she is too proud for her own good, so-much-so that it is more of a flaw than a charming characteristic of hers. Therefore, even if anyone would think that it is normal to cry right after facing a break-up and wouldn't think too deeply about it, it is different for the proud Marguerite.

For her, crying after being dumped is no different from showing weakness and vulnerability; for her, showing weakness and vulnerability is no different from putting oneself in a lower position than the other party; for her, putting oneself in a lower position than the other party is no different from being useless and shameful.

However, no matter how strong Marguerite wants to be, she is still just a human being with weaknesses and shortcomings; so to not cry at all after being tossed aside by the man she loved for 6 years is nearly impossible. She managed to contain herself in front of him through sheer will and stubborn ego, but couldn't contain herself once she was hugged by her dear childhood friend that she considers a sister.

The weeping continues to resonate throughout the house like soft bells in a winter night.

Have you ever seen your house after you left it? When you go out partying with your friend, or when you go buy groceries, your house is left empty. And that emptiness can be heard loud and clear; just like light, it reaches every nook and cranny of the space. And the bigger the house, the emptier it feels. This is why we say that silence is the loudest explosion that exists.

In this large, spacious white house, the sound of silence should be strangled away by the soft sobs of Marguerite, but it isn't. The empty home gives off the feeling of a horror movie prelude; the eerie silence mixing with a woman crying. Any outsider would shiver in fear.

Marguerite is too heartbroken to be scared, but the same cannot be said for the man sitting inside the room next door. He was peacefully sleeping when the sound of the front door shutting woke him up from his slumber. He didn't expect that as soon as he would stand up to head to the bathroom, he would suddenly jump from fear and shiver at the ominous sound that came from the living room.

Not only is it almost 11 PM, his cousin never told him that someone would be coming over.

<How come a woman is crying in the living room? Could it be ghost?>

While the young man is trying his best not to wet his pants, the crying innocent girl finally finds the strength to stop her crying for a moment. She takes out her pocket mirror and looks at the mascara stains under her eyes and her red nose. Feeling a bit pathetic, she tries to find solace in the only thing that never fails to bring up her mood. So she turns on the speakers and searches for some CDs among her friend's collection.

She settles for an inauspicious looking album with a cut-off female head on the cover and a blood-red background. In big letters, it is written ISON. She doesn't know what it means but the cover describes her mood perfectly. She takes out the CD who reads: SEVDALIZA and soullessly walks towards the CD-player. She's not sure if SEVDALIZA is the name of the singer or just a random meaningful noun from a foreign language, but she doesn't care all that much right now.

She walks back to the comfy couch as she listens to the music play.

Man with the cigarette

I'd always look around for his fitting brain

I'm torn between obsession and hate

For the mess that he made me make

A rough and raspy voice takes the house hostage as it smoothly flows across the room.

Man with the cigarette

I'd always wonder if he's always spinning thread

I'm torn between the mess that he made

For the mess that you made me make

The chorus puts her momentarily in a trance as she ceases all movements for a moment. The mix of the piano, violin and the strings of an instrument that reminds her of Arabian nights form together an ethereal melody like one she never heard before.

And I could only have you in my dreams

Oh, so it seems, so it seems

And I could only have you in my dreams

Oh, so it seems, so it seems

As the refrain starts, she is suddenly hit with a thousand bricks' worth of sorrow. She starts crying again and the tears flowing blind her for a while as an illusion appears in her blank state.

"Chad..."

She chokes as she softly whispers the name of the person that caused her to feel this broken. She resumes sobbing while berating herself for being so wretched and weak.

<Surely you won't see the man you're crying over mourn after he cruelly threw away once stopped being useful to him, but here are, like can't live without him. You're pathetic.>

She knows she is being unreasonably harsh to herself, but this is the only way for her to wake up and get it together. Else she will be trapped in self-mourning for the longest time and slowly wilt her beauty and youthfulness away for a man that isn't worth it. Besides, she shouldn't care. He's the one who lost her; he will never find another like her; it's his loss; he's the one who should be crying over her, so why is she acting like her mom died? She brutally wipes her tears off her face while choking out:

"Put yourself together!"

The melody continues and she finds herself healing a little from it. Her crying has finally stopped.

<It's the last time I'll ever let a man make me cry like this.>

She stands up and goes to the centre of the large, carpeted living room, then she starts to sing along the end of the song, trying to seek its healing effect even deeper so that it can warm her heart and make her feel drunk.

And I could only have you in my dreams

So it seems, so it seems

When Sarah comes back from the supermarket with ice-cream, she is greeted by the sight of her friend singing in the middle of the living room. It has been years since she last heard her friend's beautiful voice. With a relieved sigh, she silently removes her shoes and goes to sit on the chair nearby her. Then she listens to her sing along the next song called "human" with a smile.

<Maybe this break-up can lead to a favourable outcome somehow.>

Nevertheless, no one realized that right across the hallway, a young man is widening his chestnut eyes as if hit by a golden pie. His astonished face shifts into a grin and, excitement exudes from his very being until it saturates his very breath.