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Hush. Don’t judge. The way I handled my relationship usually worked in K-dramas where the rich guy buys everything for the girl, and the girl falls in love with him in the end. LikeGu Jun PyofromBoys Over Flowers.
Except, in my relationship, I was the so-called rich guy.
But when it came to Cole, the typical perfect guy—tall, golden, and handsome—no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough to make his heart swell with love.
Not forever, anyway.
Okay, fine. Judge me.
My mom had even confiscated my laptop when she found out I spent all my allowance on Cole’s toys. She warned me about growing up as his sugar momma, butI refused to listen to her. And now—voilà! Three years wasted.
Mom’s words must have been cursed.
“I’m sorry,” Cole whispered. The blanket crumpled as he unfolded his long legs and stood, his shadow shifting past my gaze. He was really going to abandon me here.
Still sitting, I called after him, “Where are you going? I drove you here!” But then I remembered—we traveled there on foot.
No wonder he kept on walking away.
And there was nothing I could do.
His curly hair only tempted me to pull it out in frustration. He hadn’t shed a tear or shown the slightest bit of mercy. He was just being Cole—cold like charcoal, and I wanted to burn him. But you know what was worse than all the above?
I was hoping he’d come back.
He didn’t.
I waited until my bottom went numb from sitting alone on the cold ground. Biting my lip, tears blurred my sight as I gathered up the leftover food, stubbornly refusing to allow the tears to find its way to my cheeks.
Despite the resentment I carried—along with all the leftovers, the picnic supplies, and the bird poo—I made it home bearing the weight of my first ever breakup like an expert. I was so good at acting unaffected that not a single person on the street gave me a second glance.
Ate more? Absolutely. I still managed to drown myself in a gallon of ramen broth.
Slept late? Well, I always slept late.
Cried over a boy? No way.
Was I lonely, though? Sorta. Forget the allowance money I suddenly had available now that I wasn’t spending it on Cole, I had no one to hang out with … not anymore.
Loneliness only sets in when you have time, and I had all the time in the world.
* * *
After our split,I barely left my room unless I had to eat. For two days, I wallowed in self-pity. Until one morning, I stepped out of my shell and found my mom folding our clothes in the living room.
“Eomma!” I addressed her using the Korean term forMother. It felt more natural. I slumped onto the couch and folded my arms tightly across my chest. “Why did Cole dump me? Am I ugly?”
“Aera Song, amIugly?” She blinked at me, her voice deep and warm.
“Ah, right.” I was practically a living Xerox copy of her. We had the same big brown eyes, full lips, and pale skin. Of course, people could still tell us apart. I was younger, slimmer, and at least two inches shorter compared to her five-foot-seven frame. She had a bob cut dyed like rich merlot; my hair was brown, layered, and long with see-through bangs.
Beyond our physical similarities, though, she and I also shared the same level of enthusiasm towardKorean pop—at least we did a few years ago. She got me into the genre, but after experiencing constant heartbreak from certain K-pop band breakups, she eventually gave up, buriedDBSKandEXOinto the deepest part of her aging brain, and left me to fangirl alone as she danced to Bollywood music instead. Good for her.
“Eomma, do you think Cole broke up with me because—”
“Honey, why don’t you clean up your room and then we can talk about Cole after that, yeah?”
Groaning, I grudgingly headed to my room and locked myself within. I stared at thedisorganized wardrobe in front of me. Despite theBTSK-pop band andKim Taehyungposters plastered all over the pink walls, I’d always kept my personal space tidy. Following the mortifying breakup, though, I lost the motivation to declutter. Instead, I watched my favorite bands on YouTube and read all about my town’s supernatural legends. Simultaneously.
