between the spolight - purinz ✧

echoes of what was.

chaewon's pov —

the sun streamed through the window of my dorm room, casting a warm glow that felt foreign and almost painful. i sat at the table, a cup of coffee growing cold in front of me as i scrolled through my phone, mindlessly browsing social media. it had been several months since that day in the practice room—the day yunjin and i made the hardest decision of our lives. the world outside felt vibrant, but i was trapped in a haze, existing in a state of longing for something i could no longer have. the air was thick with memories. i could still hear her laugh, the way it would bubble up like the sweetest melody, effortlessly brightening my day. but now, all that remained were echoes—ghosts of our shared moments that replayed in my mind like a bittersweet song on repeat.

each day felt like a cycle of rehearsals, interviews, and promotions, all blending together into a blur. we had both been busy as soloists, releasing new music and striving for success in a company that felt more like a battleground than a home. i had to smile for the cameras, pretend that everything was fine, but inside, i was fighting a war against the loneliness that crept in during the quiet moments.

the hardest part was seeing yunjin's name trending online, her new music topping charts. each success felt like a knife twisting in my chest. i had forced myself to mute her songs and avoid social media posts that celebrated her achievements, but i couldn't escape the reminders. i was proud of her, but the pain of our separation made it almost unbearable to celebrate from afar.

as i sat there, lost in thought, the notifications on my phone buzzed incessantly. i sighed, finally giving in and checking them. there was an invitation to a music showcase featuring various solo artists from our company. it would be an opportunity to reconnect with industry friends, and i knew i should go. but the thought of seeing yunjin again sent a shiver down my spine.

i hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen. what would i even say to her? it had been months since our last goodbye, and the memories were still fresh, as raw as the day we parted. i didn't want to reopen old wounds, yet the idea of avoiding her felt like a betrayal to everything we had shared. eventually, i hit "accept," convincing myself it was just a professional obligation. after all, we were still colleagues, and i couldn't let my personal feelings interfere with my career.

the night of the showcase arrived, and i stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my outfit—a sleek black dress that hugged my figure in all the right places. it was simple yet elegant, designed to command attention without overshadowing my message. i wanted to present myself as confident, poised, and ready to face the world. but underneath the polished exterior, i felt like a storm was brewing inside me.

as i arrived at the venue, the atmosphere was electric. the venue was alive with the sounds of laughter and conversation. i walked through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces while scanning for yunjin. she was bound to be here; after all, this was her realm too. my heart raced every time i spotted a flash of dark hair or a familiar silhouette. and then, there she was—yunjin. she stood across the room, talking animatedly with a group of artists. the sight of her sent a rush of emotions flooding back: love, regret, longing. i took a step back, almost retreating into the shadows, but it was too late. our eyes met.

her expression shifted, a flicker of surprise giving way to something softer. i could see the hesitation in her eyes, the unspoken words that lingered between us. i wanted to smile, to run to her and embrace her as i once did, but my body felt frozen in place. instead, i forced myself to look away, focusing on the conversation in front of me, as if i hadn't just seen the most important person in my life.

the showcase began, and artists took turns performing their latest hits. each performance felt like a reminder of what i had lost, a reminder of our shared dreams that now felt unattainable. i cheered for my fellow artists, putting on a brave face, but the whole time, i could feel yunjin's presence lingering in the back of my mind.

finally, it was my turn. i stepped onto the stage, the lights blinding, but i took a deep breath and let the music wash over me. as i sang, i poured every ounce of emotion into my performance. the lyrics felt like a confession, a way to communicate everything i had been feeling since we split. in the middle of my song, i locked eyes with yunjin again. this time, there was no turning away. i could see the pride in her gaze, the way she leaned forward as if she were hanging onto every note. it gave me strength, but it also intensified the ache in my heart.

as the final note hung in the air, i took a moment to breathe, allowing the applause to wash over me. i stepped back, a smile gracing my lips, but i could feel the tears threatening to spill. i took a deep breath and exited the stage, fighting the urge to run to her.

backstage, i leaned against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment. i could hear the muffled sounds of the audience and the buzz of excitement, but all i could think about was how much i missed her.

and then, i heard footsteps approaching. i opened my eyes to find yunjin standing there, her expression tentative yet determined.

"chaewon," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. it felt like a spark igniting a long-extinguished flame.

"yunjin," i replied, the weight of her name hanging in the air between us. there was a moment of silence, a space filled with everything left unsaid.

several seconds passed, which seemed like minutes, without either of us daring to say anything.

"long time no see," i finally said, breaking the silence between us, trying to keep my tone casual, even though my heart was racing.

"yeah, it's been a while," yunjin replied, her voice warm but tinged with an underlying tension. the unspoken words hung between us, heavy and suffocating. "it's so good to see you," she added, her gaze dropping slightly, but her smile was genuine.

"yeah, it really is," i said, wishing i could dive deeper into that moment, but the barrier we had built felt impenetrable.

we stood in silence for a moment, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as we took each other in, both aware of the unspoken history hanging between us. the urge to say something more, to break the tension, was overwhelming, yet i couldn't find the words.

"i should get going," yunjin finally said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her emotions. "i have some interviews to do."

"right. of course," i replied, forcing myself to nod. "i hope they go well."

"thanks. and, um, keep doing what you're doing. you're really amazing," she added, her gaze lingering on me for just a moment longer before she turned to leave.

"take care, yunjin," i managed to say, my heart heavy as i watched her walk away, the distance between us widening once more.

as she disappeared into the crowd, i felt a hollow emptiness settle in. the moment had slipped through my fingers like sand, leaving me with nothing but memories and unfulfilled wishes. i stood there, rooted in place, caught between the past and an uncertain future, the echoes of what was still resonating deep within me.