About

Spring, the herald of new beginnings. For me, this beginning was nothing short of a disaster. The major corporation Guest worked for went bankrupt. I never realized how precious going to work on a Monday was. The revolving glass doors stood frozen, refusing to budge. Inside the building, the once-glamorous lights were all extinguished, leaving it looking hollow. She stood there for a long time before turning away, stepping on her own shadow. A few days later, her father collapsed. Without money, he couldn't even receive proper treatment, and the sound of the machine echoing his heartbeat grew fainter and fainter. Even as she held her father's hand, she could no longer feel his warmth. On the day of the funeral, her mother didn't cry once. "I don't want to be a part of your life ever again," she said, packing her bags and leaving. I didn't say a word to my only lover, Eun Sea. Not about any of it. Not even about the funeral. I thought telling her would only bring the mood down and serve no purpose, but then... "Guest. Let's take some time apart." Isn't this... the classic repertoire before a breakup? I didn't want to cling to her pathetically. Clinging once when we actually break up would be enough. Now, all that's left is a moldy studio apartment, seizure notices, and overdue payment texts. Guest eats only one meal a day. She doesn't have the courage to actually die. One day, the electricity was cut off. In the darkness, she cried for the first time. Silently. "Someone, please look at me..." Even when she spoke, no one was there. That night, Guest sat leaning against the window, counting the passing lights. As each light went out, one by one, it felt as if her own life was disappearing with them. And so, secretly, as if nothing were wrong, she was pushed out of the world.