Spring Moon

49

"Why do I need to think about people who have hurt me?"

There was a moment of silence, though brief but still triggering the anxiousness inside me.

"I don't understand why you think that we hurt you, Dee. Most of the time, we were the ones who have been hurt by you."

"Excuse me..."

"On behalf of Ivy and Faye, I would like to apologize if you were hurt by our actions," Evelyn cut rather smoothly. "I personally don't mind if our cafe loses many customers because me and Jacob can come back again with something else. But, please, Dee... Think about Ivy. You, out of many people, know her condition really well. Writing is the only thing she does that makes her feel healthy."

"Tch... did she ask you to say this so that she can come back as the understanding writer but actually has deceived many people with her disguise?"

"S-Stop..." Trembling, I begged them to stop the recording from Evelyn's phone which contained all the conversation from yesterday's meeting with Daisy.

A knot in my stomach had been tightened more and more the longer the recording was played. And I didn't think I could hold the feeling any longer. Playing victim had always been her favourite and speciality, yet the disgust had never subsided from my memory of her every time I witnessed her play one.

From the corner of my eyes I saw Kevin held out a glass of water for me to down, hopefully, to ease the tightness inside my chest. Just to be polite, I took the glass from his hand and sipped a bit of the liquid, though neither did I feel thirsty.

"So, she won't back off," Chanhee scoffed, raking his hair in the process. "I never know that she's quite... hardheaded."

"She's always been one," Faye added, glaring at Evelyn next. "In the first place, you don't have to apologize! We did nothing wrong, so why must we apologize?"

Told you, Evelyn was too nice.

But, maybe, if I was in Evelyn's position, I would've done the same - apologizing for something I never did. Because sometimes, we had to take a step back to have something fixed though it had never been our fault. I hated confrontation, so I would tend to give in and just take the blame no matter how unwilling I was.

However, this time, I seemed to realize that the sacrifices I made were useless and earned me nothing. For, Daisy had never remembered all those when she poured out all the fake accusations of me to the world. That had been the biggest reason why I refused to reconcile with her. I am tired.

"I'm sleepy," I said in between the chaos of discussion that took place in my living room where everyone was presented. "I'll be in my room."

I rose to my feet from the couch just to have my wrist grabbed by someone.

"You good?" It was Kevin, concernedly looking up at me.

I pursed my lips into a thin line, softly pushing his hand away. I knew I was wearing an expression which loudly screamed I'm not, but I tried my best to look fine and not to worry him too much.

"30 minutes. I'll come back down, I promise." An assurance and a smile sent to all the demeanour inside my living room who had been so nice not to retaliate more, which made me think, what do I look like right now?

I wondered if I looked too sick because someone like Chanhee normally wouldn't shut up every time I voiced out my stance. No matter how normal it sounded.

"Go get some rest, Ivy. Later, let's watch a movie together," Jacob spoke up which I hummed with another facade on my face while walking backwards leaving the area.

As I landed my foot on the first stair, I heard a faint mumble.

"Poor Ivy... Writing is her life."

I shook my head and climbed the stairs, eventually halting at the fourth stair.

"Though I feel bad to say this, we have to assure Ivy to leave this writing world."

"That's not fair..."

I held tight to the railing of the stairs, swallowing the lump stuck in my throat upon hearing their personal thought. I couldn't blame them for having that thought either because deep down, I knew they were right. I had considered the same thing before. However, it was easier said than done. I was still gaslighting myself that I would come back as a writer though neither did I know when the day would come.

Pushing open my room's door wasn't helping either. The first thing that greeted me was my bookshelf. It had five layers and the middle layer - 3 layers from up and down, was holding all of my books. I'd always wanted to put mine in the middle so that I could always catch their sight first thing every time I was writing a new book. For, it could be a motivation when I felt tired of my job.

Nonetheless, right now, all I felt was guilt. I felt too guilty to even hold them.

Bracing myself, I walked up to the shelf, taking a random book out which turned out to be my first published book. Now, it felt bittersweet. I remembered all the sweat and tears I shed while writing this book, but the joy when it was successfully printed made me somehow overwhelmed.

"I like that book's concept." A voice from the door. "As the first book, I can say you write so well."

Kevin walked in further until he stood next to me, eyeing other books on my shelf - the middle row. He pointed at one book - my third book.

"I cried when I read this," he shamelessly admitted. "I was cursing you for writing something sad.

I should be offended, right? But, I didn't. Instead, I walked up to my bed and sunk into the softness of the mattress, sighing ever so heavily.

"My books are all love stories with different situations. Maybe after this, when I come back, I should change my genre," I chuckled to my lap.

"What genre do you want to try?" He sounded invested.

"I should write warnings not to make wrong friends," I darkly cackled, which, for a brief moment, I thought I'd scared him. But, no. He seemed to be supporting my supposed to be a joke idea.

"Why not? You should give it a try."

"You know that I'm not welcome in the writing world anymore, Kevin."

"Ivy... didn't I tell you this?" He knelt in front of me, staring straight into my eyes. "I'd do anything to have you writing back."

He was damn serious about it. I saw the seriousness as a dot in his eyes and it had been getting bigger and bigger until it had bloomed all over his body. Oh no... It came back. The same thing I saw from him yesterday.

He, indeed, was plotting something.