Still Drowning
It's Friday night—or is it already early Saturday morning? Jinsol doesn't really care anymore—and the small get-together that Haseul had taken an effort on planning, a party that's exclusive for them only, is still taking place despite it already being so late.
Looking around Haseul's large backyard, she saw her six remaining friends enjoying themselves: Yerim and Yeojin are having a dance battle with Haseul and Hyunjin as the judge while Vivi and Sooyoung's exerting lots of efforts to grill another batch of meat for them.
She used to have eleven friends, one of them being more than just that but less than that of a lover—something in between.
But people tend to be stupid sometimes, unfortunately, for Jinsol, her sometimes became more frequent, and before she even knew it, she became a mess.
So there she is, sitting on a bench a little far away from the rest.
She doesn't feel like she belongs, anymore.
Jinsol knows that she's supposed to be having fun—that's what a party is about, after all.
She's trying, she really is.
But how could she, when her heart's seething with sadness and guilt?
("It's all my fault," are the words that she tells herself whenever her heart begins to ache, followed by a painful string of "I deserve this.")
Now, no matter how hard she tries, it just never seems to be enough to remind herself what it's supposed to mean to have fun; to be happy.
What can she do if the meaning of that five-letter word and all the words associated with it had already taken an exit from her life?
("When will I see you smile again?" Haseul asked her once but the only reply that she got from the latter was "Sorry," painfully accompanied with a blank stare—she can't even fake a smile now.)
It's been two months since she started being like this: dull, blank, sullen, almost lifeless—a sight that causes the eyes of those around her to be filled with both worry and of course, pity.
Wanting to pull their supposed to be bubbly friend away from the black void that she's dangerously crashing onto, Jinsol's been forced by them to leave her gloomy place which she's painted blue.
("What happened, Sol?" Sooyoung asked her earlier when she came to pick her up drag her out. "Everything about you used to be sky blue—when did your shade become so dark? Why'd you change into dark blue?")
(She doesn't know how to answer that, so she didn't.)
(She didn't know the answer to that, so she kept mum.)
"Sol."
"Jinsol."
"Jung Jinsol!"
With the loud voice coming from Sooyoung, who's now standing in front of her, Jinsol was brought back to her senses. Looking up, she saw six pairs of eyes looking at her with the same mixture of worry and pity that she's used to see by now.
Even the embodiment of sunshine, Yerim, is looking at her with her lips pressed into a thin line, a frown if you look from a different angle.
(And Yerim always smiles.)
"Sorry? What was that?" She asked, inwardly grimacing with how the words became second nature to her as it is what she always says when someone wakes her up from her stupor, which happens very often.
She tends to get lost inside her mind sometimes all the time—she still doesn't know the way out.
"I said, your phone's been ringing. You should answer it." There was something different with the short-haired girl's tone during the last part, like a double meaning or some sort, but Jinsol decided to ignore it, like she usually does with everything else.
"Ah, okay." Was her soulless reply—ironic, if you may ask, as they used to call her 'Jinsoul' with how she walks with her soul bare, lighting up every place she steps upon, leaving a piece of herself there.
Maybe she's left more than she's supposed to—or maybe it wasn't just pieces that she's left, but her whole self, along with her soul—and now she's nothing but an empty shell.
Sadly, her life is no fairytale. This is no Hansel and Gretel where she can follow the pieces of herself that she's left behind to return to who she used to be before all this mess; there weren't any traces of herself left.
Haseul hands her phone to her, a comforting smile present on her worried features. "This is your chance, Soulie."
Though confused with what she meant, the latter gave her friend a nod; It's only when she saw the painfully familiar name flashing in the screen, did she realize the meanings behind her friends' words—please, talk to her.
And so that's what she did.
"Jiwoo?"