Bend & Break | Wooyoung [Ongoing]

7 | she is ensorcelled by the rich young thing

Her.

IT WASN'T LOVE, I WAS sure of it. Not even close to lukewarm affection. The sensation engulfing me when it dawned how I was thinking of a man I just met. It was the way he showered me with attention which had uncloaked the underlying truth that people still looked at me.

Regarded me.

Beyond the external show of poverty slowly creeping in—not an illusion (let's stop deluding ourselves, call a spade what it is—a fricking spade)—and humiliating job, I possessed an inborn charm that appealed to, why yes, mankind. It could trot out breakfast-to-go from Park Seonghwa's kitchen, no questions asked. Really, no questions asked. I feared what might happen if I choose to dig deep, inquire from the only person with answers.

Changbin might seem different from the asshole he always showed to me, perhaps the least I could do was protect his identity, continue to make an enemy out of the facade. It was too good to be true. Or he would keep watching me when no one was watching, find out these tidbits about me, return to his friend with what he's got, said friend turns up with care packages.

I viewed this as two-dimensional on fate's end or the unascertained forces at work here. There had to be. Even if it explained nothing, it managed to put things in some kind of perspective. It held assurances too. Having suffered enough, it was natural that I be compensated, hence two windows of chance being held open for me at the same time.

Lia was absolutely positive the only valid explanation for the brown paper bag was I snuck out to lunch without her. Influenced by my wanton behaviour, she forced us to an early dinner at the same place. You don't see me complaining.

"You know, I always wanted a secret admirer," Lia said. I took a swift sweep of the area to realize MaHwa Dine was always humming. "A handsome stranger fazing in out of nowhere bearing gifts, a stalker in cahoots with my worst enemy. You are living the life, Muye."

It was hard to decipher if Lia was being serious. Thinking down the aspect of a sarcastic joke, I felt cheap. Getatable. So I didn't do a background check and already I was collecting from a complete stranger.

But we'd seen before.

Besides, "I don't think Changbin truly hates me. We have what we have to keep things interesting."

Were we both on the same page, me and and Changbin? I was pompous, tell me something I didn't know. Many have aired their reservations in passing, I got over it. Then Changbin, the steadfast nitwit. Also unpredictable. With a friend, an attractive one at that who came across as a person with a fetish for civility, with a magnetism that drew me to put all my eggs in one basket as if it was the one and only prime choice. If it was a choice to begin with.

"Isn't it wonderful. The things we're ready to make excuses for." At this particular moment, Lia believed she had wisdom.

Was that what I was doing? "Is that what I'm doing?"

"Looks like it." She shrugged, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her fingers came up to snake around the stem of her wine glass and stayed there. What Lia might be attempting to point out was that my feedback would be different if it had been Changbin.

It was true.

"What exactly is your point?"

"I don't hear you grousing about him. To be honest, I would freak out less if we were dealing with Seo Changbin," Lia said. "Familiarity is a very safe place. It's wonted. You know what's up even when you don't."

And somehow I found that I liked to pursue the unfamiliar. It suited my superficial mores, outlined who and what was Song Muye—Mingi's twin, my parents' daughter, Lia Choi's best friend. I never want to be figured out, then thrill would be gone away. If I couldn't set myself apart from everybody ... what the hell is the point?