1 | Broken like an old streetlight

24 hours before she died, and the world turned to shit.

I hate driving a car. Can't they invent one that just drives itself while I snooze off, already? I didn't get enough sleep because my friend woke me up in the middle of the night and I gotta drive a car? That's too much.

"That's it. I quit," I declare, trying to focus on all the cars around trying to insert themselves into the traffic.

"You quit what? Your job?" Cho-hee asks, barely lifting her eyes from her phone.

"No. Life."

"Soo-jin-ah... you can't just quit life."

"Says who?"

"The.. Bible?"

"I'm Buddhist."

"Okay, then says me, your best friend who'll be very sad if you leave me alone here."

"So now, you're guilt-tripping me? Where are some good friends when you need 'em?"

"If you'd tried to socialize more often, maybe you'd have good friends. Or at least, you know, friends in plural."

"Ya!"

I suddenly pull over, throwing both of us to the front as I stop in front of a car that suddenly slided right in front of me, and turn my head to give a deadly stare to Cho-hee. She acts as if she didn't notice my gaze, and pulls her auburn bob hair closer to her round face while whistling.

"Ya! Kim Cho-hee! Next time, maybe you'll call your friends in plural to get you out of a club."

"Ani! I'm sorry, you're my best friend, don't have any other friends than me, please! I love you!" She flips her bangs as she turns to look at me with watery eyes, and some cute expression that might impress the guys that buy her food and coffee for it, but she won't have me with that.

Though, she keeps doing it. And... was that a tear? This girl... she can fake-cry better than anyone I know of. Which is basically my boss who is so lifeless that he might be as dead as the ghosts I see everyday and I might never know, my co-workers who ignore my existence because I ignore theirs, the old lady living under me who hates me so much she seems to curse me with her eyes every time we come across each other, because I make too much noise when I walk and dance, and my editor who won't even pick up my calls. Oh, and yeah, all the ghosts I see in my daily life who usually dislike me as much as I dislike them because I don't want them to talk to me.

Okay, Cho-hee really is my only friend, so fake-cry or not, I better keep her around, don't I? At least to have someone to give me food when I don't eat some for two days-straight because I've been so focused on photoshopping the pictures I took of the latest small village I discovered near Seoul, where everything seems so much more peaceful than here.

"Mmh. Sure." That's all I say to her before properly ignoring her radiant smile with a blank expression, and keep driving past the cars that honk back at me. Per usual, I almost hit two or three scooters, but honestly, everybody in Seoul hates these damn motorists who keep popping from the sidewalks to avoid traffic, so it wouldn't have been such a waste. But, at least, I didn't run into drunk drives, so that's one win for today.

At some point, we were so stuck, I thought I should change my legal address to this highway. So when I finally pulled in front of my apartment, I let out a relieved sigh.

"I still don't get why you go to Gangnam-gu every time! There's nothing to see there. It's just a massive tourist trap," I complain, as I put my hood over my pitch black hair, clearly not prepared to face the cold wind of the night with my jogging and my thin green hoodie that carries the proof that I ate some chicken with sauce earlier.

"Well, I guess Itaeweon is like this, but I still like Gangnam! I definitely prefer it to Hongdae, people there are too young for me! I almost went on a date with a twenty-years old. Three times!"

"Maybe it's a sign you should start to try and find love in Uijeongbu."

"Ya! You're too mean to me!"

"Just realistic."

"Well, when are you going to try and find love?"

"Aaaand, I'm out!"

I don't listen to her complains, and almost run up the stairs to throw myself inside my one-bathroom, one-an-entire-fucking-house-mushed-into-one-room appartment, the only I could possibly afford in this crazy city, and almost crawl to my electric heater, best invention mankind could think of after instant ramyeon.

"Boil some water, I'm hungry!" I yell, as soon as Cho-hee takes a step inside, already fully focused on her phone, probably flirting with some guy again.

"I don't feel like feeding you," she says, while she keeps frantically typing.

"Do you have a death wish? Want to try and check if there are some trains left for you to go home at this hour? You'll have to do it, if I throw you out."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Wanna try a hungry woman?"

"You're plain evil, you know that right?"

I barely lift my shoulders as I get on my feet and go to the bathroom, leaving Cho-hee trying to get some water into the boiler while texting someone with one finger only and keeping her phone away from the water. This girl will get killed because of her phone, someday.

Before I close the door, I grab my Nikon on the drawer next to the bathroom door, to take a picture of her, without her knowing. Then I look at the photo and I smile.

We haven't seen each other for a few months now, because we both have busy schedules. It's nothing like when we were in high school, where we used to spend all of our days together, just laughing together in class, getting our good grades with the bare minimum effort provided to the education system we both loved to curse while we drinked some Milkis in the afternoon, at the kids' park. We even annoyed the kids there by stealing the swings and the toboggan.

Ten years later, nothing much has changed, except that we now have to give out a notice a week earlier to the other to go out together, and we now laugh about taxes and fuel price in ours respective houses that we struggle to pay rent for every month, trying to do good at our jobs when our bosses ask us to constantly push our limits in this work system we both love to curse while we drink some Milkis with soju in the afternoon, at the kids' park. And we still annoy the kids there by stealing the swings and the toboggan.

I know she probably got herself in trouble to get her annual leave this time to spend New Year's with me. She's a nurse, nurses never get rest, even on holidays. She never got any the previous years, not even to spend some time with her mom, but now, she's come all this way to stay with me. I don't know how she finally realized that I've been lying to her for quite some time, making her believe that I've been going to Canada around this time, for three years, to spend holidays with my sister and my brother-in-law. She probably got it the time I accidently told her I didn't have a passport when she asked me if we could fly to China to see her new beau she met on social media, a night in Hongdae when we were drunk, two months ago.

Nevertheless, she didn't come at me for my lies. She didn't even ask me why. She just understood that I've been all alone on New Year's for the past three years.

On the day my father died.

And she came this year to spend it with me.

I smile again at this thought, as I enter the bathroom and close the door behind me, starting to undress in front of the mirror.

I don't need my coworkers at the company to like me. I don't need for my neighbor, the old lady, to stop cursing me every time we come across. I don't even need the ghosts I see daily to not try to kill me, even if that would be really nice.

I already have the best friend I could ask for.

So even if my mom has already been long gone ever since I'm a kid, even if my sister has selfishly given up on me too three years ago, and even If I've lost my dad, the only person who's ever cared about me has died today, it's fine.

Everything's fine. I'll be okay.

Right?

I want to say right.

I really want to believe that.

But can I?

I don't feel like I can when I raise my eyes on the mirror I have in front of me. Not when my tall yet skinny body begs me to eat more regularly. Not when some scars are still too visible inside my tights and on my wrists with this veiny and pale complexion of mine. Not when the dark rings under my brown eyes scream what kind of nightmares keep me from sleeping most nights.

I've been trying my best because Cho-hee was coming. I put on some makeup even if I hate it, so that she sees me less tired, when comparing my livid angular face to hers, bright and lively. I put on some baggy clothes so she doesn't see I've lost weight, when comparing my feather body to hers, small and chubby.

I've even washed my long and dark hair, when I could barely manage to crawl to my bed every night for the past weeks, after I came home from work.

I can hold it together until she goes home. I can do that much for her.

But after she's gone, what happens?

"Soo-jin-ah! What're you doing? The ramyeon is almost ready! Get your ass over here!"

Shit! I need to pull myself together. I can't think of what'll happen beyond this New Year's we're going to spend together. I'll deal with this later.

I'll deal with all of this later.

I quickly wash up my face and my body, and put on the largest pajamas I have. I stand in front of the mirror, to look at myself one more time, as I give myself one slap. Then another. Then finally, when I feel like I'm somehow still alive, I leave the bathroom, locking away everything I've felt inside.

"Hope you didn't manage to fuck up something as simple as instant ramyeon," I nag her, as I sit in front of her, one knee bent near my face, and grab chopsticks to drop some kimchi on my bowl of ramyeon.

"You know, being mean to cute people like me is bad for the heart. You might die young."

"Oh no, how unfortunate."

I slurp my first mouthful of ramyeon and... and I instantly spit it back.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

My face is almost inside my bowl, when I lift my eyes to Cho-Hee. And give her a stare so deadly, it actually draws two dead people to me, now standing behind her chair. They are two women that I'm used to seeing everyday when I come home, but that I never let inside my home, threatening to throw salt at them if they do. I'm not even sure it'll do anything since I haven't tried, but they seem scared enough that they obey.

The young one is a blond girl who's freshly put-on makeup is ruined because of the mascara now mixed with her foundation, poured like in streams of tears. Her white wedding dress made of sweet pearls and lace could have been on my recommendation list for the wedding I'll never have because all men suck, if it wasn't for the blood all over it.

Unlike her, the other lady is an old one, and definitely not coming out of a wedding. Her floral-patterned pants and orange sweater with holes mostly covered with a red apron, and the yellow boots and gray gloves she's wearing suggest that she was a street seller, probably from a fish stand. And honestly, her wrinkled-face is frowning so much that I won't be surprised to learn that she's spent more than forty years yelling at people only to not sell enough and go home later than expected. Maybe she died on one of those empty streets, going home at one in the morning, not seeing what was ahead of her and falling on something sharp that gave her this bleeding and open wound on her forehead.

Even though I pity them, I won't let myself get distracted. Because right now, I'm more concerned about this thing called meal inside my bowl, that almost poisoned me.

"What?" Cho-Hee finally lifts her head from her phone to notice my stare.

"How? How did you manage to fuck up something as simple as instant ramyeon?"

"... First of all, thanks for the good question? Criticism?" She imitates, at the same time, the mannerisms of the actress in SNL Korea she's referring to by acting out this meme.

"Ya! Don't even try to deflect the question with a meme!"

"Fine, fine... I just thought I should add some salt."

I lift up my head from the bowl and drop my chopsticks. "That was... My. Last. Pack."

"Should we kill her?" the old lady suggests.

"Will you finally be nice to us if we do?" the young bride asks.

I lift a hand to stop them from talking. "Ani. I'll handle this myself." I get up in one quick motion from my chair.

The next second, I'm running after Cho-Hee in the whole house, throwing multiple pillows at her while she screams.

At some point we stop, because the lady living under me probably took a broom or something, and she keeps hitting her ceiling, so my floor. I simply let go of my pillows, and lie on the ground, Cho-Hee crouching next to me, both of us out of breath.

"I—I think I—I'm dead," she pants.

"Not yet, but we could do something about that." Now the old lady is in front of us, looking from above with her usual frown, licking her gums.

"If we do, will you visit my husband for me?" The bride asks, standing right next to the old lady, looking psychotic because of her broad smile and wasted makeup.

I stare at them. I breathe in and out. And the moment I feel like my legs got alive again, I step up and run to the kitchen to grab the salt. As I angrily start throwing some pinches at them, they start running around, bumping to one another before they vanish in a blue smoke.

Leaving my floor and a screaming Cho-Hee's hair full of salt.

"Don't tell me there were ghosts with us this whole time!" she yells, as she throws herself on the couch, as if ghosts were some kind of bugs wandering on the floor.

"Oh yeah, there were a bunch of them. All bleeding and looking at you like fresh meat they could eat and—"

"Aaaah! I'm not sleeping here tonight!" She makes a high jump to the floor, and almost crawls to the front door, to open it and run out, even forgetting her shoes. A few moments later, I can see the tip of her nose as she shyly holds herself to the door and looks at me. "Also, can we go get some chimaek? I'm hungry."

"Be honest, you wasted away my last pack of instant ramyeon just to go get fried chicken and beer, didn't you?"

"... Guilty as charged?"

I hastily grab her shoes and throw them on her, but she manages to dodge, laughing as I hear her get down the stairs. I shake my head with a smile, put on my shoes, grab our coats and get out, letting the door lock itself. Then I sit at the first step and take out a cigarette, carefully looking around to spot anyone before lighting it, as Cho-Hee gets up again near me, already focused on typing someone.

The moment I take a second puff, I hear a phone ring. But as I was about to scold Cho-Hee so she would finally answer it, she shows me her screen, still on text messages, but with no incoming calls. Meaning it's my phone that's ringing. But since my boss wouldn't call me past midnight, and one of the two people who could is right in front of me, it must be the second person who even has my number.

I throw my cigarette away as if it were contaminated, chase away the smoke, hawk and spit before answering the video call with my usual blank expression. Clearly contrasting with the broad smile on my brother-in-law's face, as he films himself with the large furred hoodie of his jacket on his head, sunglasses, a bright sun shining behind him on the dead trees full of snow.

"Helloooooo!" he screams, frantically waving his hand to say hi to me, as if I were some kind of celebrity. Then, he takes out a little flag of Canada to shake it with a proud smile.

"Hyeongbu! You don't need to show me that you're in Canada every time we talk. You've been living there for three years, I got it!" I say, uninterested but struggling to hide my smile, seeing him this happy.

"Three years but you still haven't come once! When are you going to take care of your passport?"

I quickly glance at Cho-Hee, but she still has no reaction whatsoever, even if my own brother-in-law just confirmed my lies on the phone without knowing it. She simply looks at her phone, probably smiling at what he's saying, because she somehow can do two things at the same time.

"I asked for a passport, but these things take time..." I sigh.

"Soo-jin-ah! We could ask for a visa here as well! When are you coming here to live with us? Nobody understands me like you!" he cries out, pouting, and still talking in English.

"You should have thought about that before leaving me here, traitor."

He starts moving like a kid throwing a tantrum. Cho-Hee lets go of her phone just to get closer and look at him, laughing while I shake my head to fake embarrassment.

"Ya! Kim Cho-Hee!" he yells, when he finally notices her.

And now they're both frantically waving their hands to say hi to each other. Great, I'm stuck with two silly idiots.

"Ahjussi! It's good to see you!" she cheered, now broadly smiling like him.

"It's good to see you too! It's great you came to spend the holidays with Soo-jin this year too!"

Oops, another lie uncovered. And this time, Cho-Hee gives some kind of reaction, meaning she just gives me a deadly stare while still smiling broadly, and that makes her actually scary. But when she faces my brother-in-law again, she's as lovely as usual.

"It's too bad you can't come."

"I'm really sad, too! But the first years abroad are a bit difficult, so since we're trying to adjust here, we couldn't come back to Korea this quickly. Which is why you girls should come by! Toronto is really nice, but it's colder than Seoul in winters, so come prepared!"

Since Cho-Hee's English isn't that great, I quickly translated to her what he just said, before she could happily nod and greet him one more time to go away and leave us alone.

"You know, I'm really sorry we couldn't be with you for the holidays, these past years." I see him sit on a bench, trying to cover his face with his large hoodie to not show too much sadness, but I can already discern it in his low voice.

My brother-in-law, Ri Nam-sun, has been married to my sister for ten years now, meaning I met him first when I was still young. The reason we get along so well is probably because he's the sweetest thing on this Earth with Cho-Hee and it's physically impossible to hate him. But mostly because he's been everywhere my own father should have been : replacing him for the students' parents reunions, taking pictures of me at my graduation, coming with me to pick my first car option, practicing with me for my job interview, beating up the first boy who broke my heart.

Well, that last part is a lie. He tried to beat him up, but he didn't need to because I did it first. And honestly? I doubt he could physically fight. The man cries when he has to crush a spider, telling me it probably has kids.

He's helped me out in more ways than I could count. So, his absence in my daily life felt even more daunting than my sister's. Because while her departure was painful, it was also relieving; our personalities being too apart, we've never been compatible to live with one another, even if we did until the day they moved to Canada. But with my brother-in-law, it was different. Even if I never openly laughed at his jokes because he makes bad ones, never let him hug me, never smiled, he still proved, everyday, that he cared about me.

Just like he's doing it now.

"I promise you, we'll come there next year. Or I will hire some men to kidnap you and bring you here, legally or not."

"Great promises from a man who likes to collect little cute animal figurines."

"I've found some unicorn figurines here! I mean, can you believe it? And—"

"Yeobo!" Her voice might be faded and coming from the background, but I'll recognize my older sister's scream anywhere. Even if my brain didn't, my body will, because of how quickly hair rose on my arms.

"Your sister's here, do you want to talk to her?"

I shake my head. "I have to leave you. We're going to eat out with Cho-Hee. You can say hi to her, but she'll know I don't mean it, so don't bother."

My brother-in-law seems displeased with my answer, and was even about to say something, before I hung up. It's pointless to have a debate about this whole relationship I have with my sister, and besides, I really don't want her to see me because I know the first thing she'll do will be to scold me for being out this late.

I take a deep breath and try to ignore the little pain in the center of my chest. I put my phone away and start walking towards the little chicken restaurant at the corner of the street with Cho-Hee.

"I get why your brother-in-law doesn't like to speak Korean here, with his accent and everything... but why does he speak English even with you?"

I shrug. "He says it's to practice more and adapt well to Toronto. But I guess it's only half true. He started learning English for a long time before going, to make people here believe he was a foreigner and avoid speaking Korean in public. That's why they basically left at some point, too. He was just feeling too uncomfortable."

"He started learning with you, right?"

"Yeah. When I started to learn English for my job, I practiced with him and we even started speaking together in public. And he just seemed... happy, you know. For once, people weren't looking at him weird when he was just ordering coffee because of his accent or the words he used. Also, many companies he applied to after coming here told him they didn't want to hire him because he didn't know how to speak English, so he was happy to brag about it when he finally put that on his résumé."

"But he still couldn't find a job, right?"

"He was really depressed about it. You know how he is, so it was shocking. I basically saw him stop eating and making his bad jokes at breakfast."

"Yeah, I remember... but he found something in Toronto, right?"

"Almost as soon as they got there. I'm guessing Canadians also have prejudices about people coming from the North, but it seems like they make life less impossible for them than here. I'm just happy to see him enjoying life again."

"I'm happy for him too. And for your sister. But... we're going to get one year older tomorrow and you're still... so—"

I take a few steps more, before I stop walking like Cho-Hee and I turn behind to look at her. I tighten my large puffer jacket and she uses sleeves of hers to dry the tears streaming down her slightly pink cheeks. Then, all of a sudden, she starts wailing loudly

"I'm just—I'm just sad because—because... you're still so alone."

She sobs and hiccups, but I stay there to look at her with a blank face. Yet, I want to burst into tears. I want to cry like she cries for me. I want to let myself fall on the floor and tell her that I am alone. I want to tell her that every day I wake up and every night I come home from work, the silence that welcomes me is threatening to eat me alive, someday. I look in the mirror and see a void. I stare at it and it stares right back at me. I try to scream, break something, cry, drink until I black out, throw something out the window, I don't what else, but I try to do something. But the void doesn't let me. The void is just... there. And I'm lost in it. I can't move, I can't speak, I can't do anything. I just wait for the minutes to pass by.

I just wait for life to pass by.

I want to tell her all of this.

But I stand there and she keeps crying.

And her face is lit by a bright street lamp, while I stand right in the darkness, under a broken one.

That night, after she cried her heart out and I said nothing, we went to eat fried chicken with beer. We laughed and ranted about our favorite variety show on our way home. We talked about the latest crush she got and the latest annoying client I got on my king size bed. We bickered until the moment she started mumbling and finally fell asleep.

Until the moment I was, once again, left all alone in the darkness.

I stared at the void inside me. It stared back at me.

Then, I closed my eyes and waited for the night to end.

Because that's all I can ever do.