Flowers and Broken Hearts

She and He

Kim Chin An, 19, Five years ago

It was her unlucky day.

Okay, so maybe part of it was Kim Chin An's fault and not entirely the universe's, but hey, she couldn't exactly blame herself, could she?

Anyway, what happened was that the brilliant little chipmunk named Kim Chin An partied late at night on a Wednesday. This whole thing was the reason she overslept and passed out on her best friend's couch, only to wake up with a not only a head, but a body-splitting migraine that even a double shot of Advil couldn't kill. Then after a continuous string of profanities that escaped her lipstick-smudged mouth as she poured out a cup of milk on her Post Corn Flight (which was mistakenly the cereal Song Jinhee, her best friend, told her absolutely never to touch), our star, Chin An happened to peer at her phone and realize that, OH MY GOD, SHE IS TWENTY FIVE MINUTES LATE FOR HER FIRST CLASS, WHAT THE F*CK?! Thus, began her fast-paced journey to her high school, consisting of a showerless starlet with unpaired socks, sprinkled with shoved pathways towards the subway, sore arm-waving for a taxi, and finally, a fifteen-minute walk towards her science class.

But of course, Chin's bad luck doesn't only include oversleeping and missed classes (plus quizzes). She just happened to be feeling a little bit uncomfortable as she sat down in her English class, squirming here and there, struggling to find a comfortable position. And yes, when lunch break came and Chin An slipped into the restroom to do a short wee, she realized why she had been feeling uneasy. After all, the answer was laid out in front of her after she pulled down her skirt, all red and, well, bloody.

A couple of tampons later, we meet an aggressively moody Chin once more, but this time, she's mad for another reason.

She. FREAKING. Lost. Her. Wallet.

Yup. Amazing. Just her lucky day.

It was really inconvenient; her wallet contained her IDs and credit cards, including all of her money. But don't worry, she was left with at least ₩100 to buy a cup of ramyun for lunch, a collection from all the changes she had in her bag. The convenience store clerk was also very kind about the situation; she gave Chin a pack of mints for free.

And here's Chin An cue to finally say, "What a fucking day."

Yes, those are the first words she had said aloud the whole morning. And to be honest, we should give her credit. The day wasn't over yet.

The store's door jingled to a close behind her as she escaped with a steaming ramyun cup in her hands, her poor backpack dangling from one elbow. Her stomach rumbled in impatience when the ravishing aroma of chicken noodles adorned with kimchi hit her through the steam that flushed her face with warmness (kudos to the considerate store clerk for tipping a bowlful of kimchi into Chin's ramyun to shut her up from repeatedly narrating her bad day). For once, Chin thought that at least something went well today.

Spotting an empty bench by the side of the busy street, she scrambled to reach the seat before anyone could claim it. Her steps were light yet fast; she had reached the bench just before a man turned to check if the bench was empty. Delighted that she could eat her noodles in peace to calm the raging war currently rumbling her inside, Chin dropped her bag onto the space beside her and took another deep breath to let the chicken-y smell waft her. Then, finally, she picked up her wooden chopsticks to stir the ramyun, bringing the chopsticks together to get the noodles, and bringing them to her salivating mouth.

That was when chaos erupted.

A force of something hard and, well, thick, slammed into her, forcing her whole being sideways. She felt it unfolding in slow motion—the bounce of her head to the left, followed by the heavy weight of her body—something hitting her hand—the cup of ramyun slipping from her fingers—