PERFECT (F4 THAILAND)

Absence (34)

ROSE POV

Days went back to how they used to be.

The same routines.
The same streets.

The same little habits.
Only now, everything felt heavier.
It was the same place but haunted by someone’s absence.
It had been almost a week since Ren left.

I stared at the calendar for a long moment, pen hovering in my hand before I finally marked today’s date. Four days. Exactly four days had passed like this. The days moved forward obediently, but my thoughts didn’t. They stayed behind. With him.
So many things changed after Ren left, even if no one said it out loud.

Thyme asked Gorya to meet him in the strangest way possible. Honestly, if you asked me, it was ridiculous. Who goes on live television and aircasts a message just to ask someone to meet them somewhere? Only Thyme. I guess dramatic ideas really were his specialty.

.
.
“You sure you don’t have anything planned today, nah?” I asked as we walked.

“Of course not,” Gorya replied easily. “I also need to fix my phone.”

She linked her arm with mine, and we wandered through the shops without any real purpose. Just walking. Just existing. After a while, our legs ached and our energy dipped.

“Let’s eat something,” I said, groaning dramatically. “I’m dying of hunger.”

I dragged her toward a nearby food stall before she could protest.

As we ate, I noticed a TV hanging above the stall, the volume turned up just enough to be heard over the street noise. The screen flickered—and there they were.
F4.
I paused mid-bite, eyes glued to the screen despite myself.
“Acting isn’t our passion,” Kavin said confidently, adjusting his watch like he was being paid per movement. “We aren’t even that good-looking anyway, so we just focus on our family business.”

I snorted. “The audacity.”

“So let’s move on to Thyme’s love life,” the interviewer continued.

“Seriously,” I muttered, shaking my head. “They’re always fussing over nonsense instead of actual news.”

I turned to Gorya to complain some more but she wasn’t listening.

She was staring.
Not at the food.
Not at me.
Not even at the TV.

“Gorya?” I called.
No response.

“Hey, Gorya!” I snapped my fingers in front of her face, louder this time.
She blinked, startled. “Oh—what were you saying?”

I frowned. “Where were you just now? I was basically talking to myself.”

“Oh, nothing,” she said quickly, then immediately changed the topic.

I didn’t push it.

After we finished eating, we stayed seated, letting the breeze cool our skin. The weather was nice—too nice. Slowly, the sky darkened, clouds rolling in thick and heavy.

When I looked at Gorya again, she kept glancing at the time, tapping her foot, shoulders tense.
“Hey,” I asked gently, “do you have somewhere to go?”

“Well, um—sorry, I have to go—”

“But where—?”

She didn’t answer.
She broke into a run, disappearing into the crowd just as rain began to pour from the sky.
I stayed where I was, watching her fade into the distance,..

By the time I reached home, my mind felt like mush. My head was throbbing with the quiet exhaustion that only comes when you’ve spent the day lost in your own thoughts. I slipped into my room and changed into something comfortable, soft against my skin. I lay down, closed my eyes…