universe | kim minji

we can't be friends

we can't be friends, ariana grande
—-—

The dim glow of the city lights illuminated the streets as I walked aimlessly, lost in a sea of memories and regrets.

The cold breeze brushed against my face, but the chill I felt was nothing compared to the emptiness that consumed me from within.

I had heard whispers about a revolutionary technology that could erase specific memories from one's mind.

A part of me was curious, intrigued by the possibility of letting go of the pain and heartache that she had left me with.

I found myself standing outside the sleek, modern building. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.

A receptionist greeted me with a warm smile, her eyes scanning me curiously.

"I'm here for the memory erasure," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, handing me a clipboard with a form to fill out. As I scribbled down my details, my mind raced with conflicting emotions.

Was I making the right decision? Would erasing Minji from my memory truly bring me the peace I so desperately sought?

After what felt like an eternity, the receptionist led me to a room where the procedure would take place. The room was equipped with a high-tech chair, surrounded by monitors and intricate machinery.

Lying back in the chair, I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. The technician, a young man with a reassuring smile, explained the process to me in detail.

Gently, the technician guiding me to the high-tech chair. "Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, his eyes searching for mine for any sign of hesitation.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I need to do this," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He attached the electrodes to my temples, his movements gentle and precise. "Take deep breaths," he advised, his voice filled with compassion.

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Images of Minji flashed before me - our first meet, our shared laughter, the warmth of her embrace. But alongside these memories, there was also pain and heartbreak.

"We'll begin now," the doctor announced. "See you in a few minutes." He said with a small smile.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm the emotions raging within me. The sedative began to take effect, its warmth spreading through my veins, numbing the pain and anxiety that had consumed me.

"Remember, this will only take a few minutes," the technician reassured me, activating the machine.

Images of Minji flashed before my eyes one last time - her smile, her laughter, the love we had shared.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.

With a shaky breath, I nodded, bracing myself for the inevitable. "I do."

And then, with a sharp jolt, the machine targeted the memories, erasing them from my mind. The world around me blurred into darkness as the procedure continued, the sounds of the machine growing fainter with each passing second. And then...

...silence.