Zero

Part 1

Mark sits in a cafe, his hands resting on his thighs. He wants to concentrate on the flavor of coffee he ordered, but his mind is otherwise preoccupied. You had posted on your Instagram again. You look happy, vibrant even. Mark lets out a deep sigh and takes a sip of his coffee. It is lukewarm now. Why did he torture himself like this? He should stop following your social media and save the heartache.

Every time you called him, texted him, or posted something... A rush of emotion would hit him. He missed you. Of course, you would still meet up for a meal with him every now and then. It felt like there was this massive barrier between the two of you. You claimed the break up was so you could focus on creating your clothing brand. Why did it seem like you were so much happier without him?

It felt like your life was one positive turn after the next. Meanwhile, Mark still ate the same food, listened to the same music, and worked the same job. It was as if he was frozen in time, in his own little snow globe. In this tiny world you were still his. He could embrace you, kiss you, talk to you without restraint. Sadly, reality was cruel.

He woke up to an empty and cold bed every morning. He still remembered how much heat you would give off when you slept. He called you "furnace" affectionately. Now he woke up multiple times during the night shivering. Milo gave off some heat, but it wasn't the same as you.

He swallows the now very bitter tasting coffee. Your latest post shows you at an event. You are wearing a classy white dress and have your arm wrapped around some unknown male. You don't mention him or tag him in the caption. Mark knows he shouldn't care THIS much. It had been a year. You should be seeing other people if you really wanted to.

Hell, he had even tried online dating. Most of the girls on Tinder just wanted to fuck him and then leave him. Apparently Mark didn't "look like the romantic type." So, he spent the past year single. A year of yearning, loneliness, and pensive thoughts.  That isn't to say he didn't sleep with any of those girls. Sure, he'd have sex with them. It wasn't anything like being with you though. He felt like he was someone else, fucking those girls.

He is brought out of his haze by a notification on his phone. A text. He goes to his inbox and lets out a groan when he reads your name.

You: Hey :) I'm having a show later this week. Wanna come? Would love to see you!

Mark should walk away, put the phone down. Jaebeom kept telling him that he needed- no, HAD to let you go. It was unhealthy. The amount of power you still held over him was like a heavy noose. How much longer would he subject himself to this humiliation?

Mark sighs as his fingers impulsively type back a response.

Mark: Yeah, sure. I'll be there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He caved, AGAIN. This had to be the last time. He would go to your show and then unfollow your social media accounts. He'd feign sickness for the rest of his life if it meant you leaving him alone. How the hell was he supposed to be okay with being friends? Deep down he agreed to be your friend because he didn't want you to disappear. If he cut off all contact, he'd worry it was all a dream. He was desperate to hang on to any piece of you.

The more he clung though, the more empty he felt. Like nothing. Zero.