❝ Forgive and Forget

A Twist of fate has brought Seul and Mnine together again. She's reluctant to comply and work together him at first but then realizes that: Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time.

05

March

❝ Forgive and Forget, Newspaper Club Headquarters

"See that door at the end of the hall to the left?"

Seul follows the female's finger as she motions to the described location and nods.

"That's the Newspaper Club's room."

"Oh- Thanks!" Covering her face with a hand out of embarrassment, she shuffled towards the end of the hall just like she was directed and pulls the strap of her messenger back closer to her neck with the other hand. She couldn't even believe how silly she was to be completely ignorant of the room despite her several rounds in the very same hall from her search earlier. This was before a student had emerged from one of the classroom with only the intention to ask Seul if she needed help in which she casually responded with a defeated yes.

She slouches her shoulder down and proceeds over to the front door of the Newspaper Club's room. What she saw when she pushed open the white painted door of the Academy's Newspaper Club Head Quarter shocked her to the core.

Sung Joon felt sick and dizzy but grimly determined. Mustn't, mustn't pass out. He'd barely gotten any sleep last night, hadn't been able to eat anything either. With a low tired groan, he settles into his seat. His sore back feeling at ease when it touches the soft padding of the chair. How long had he been here? Sung Joon reached for his phone and swipes a finger across to unlock the screen; 7:59 p.m. He sets the smart phone back onto the desk to resume work, maybe if he had taken less breaks he would've finished the article by now.

Sung Joon does not continue work though, instead he opens a few browsers up and checks through his social media sites. He replies to a few tweets and posts one on his own, updating his followers regarding the status of his work. He's about to snap a picture of himself when he hears the door open, immediately—as if caught red handed—he spins his office chair to the side, phone tucked deeply in between his thighs as he greets the guest with a smile.

The smile disperses into a straight face, the male's ears promptly glows pink, his emotion a mix of embarrassment and confusion. "Seul?"

Seul's stomach clenched in fear. This was horribly, horribly wrong. Her ex-lover - the only person she'd ever dated, the man she loved with all her heart - was sitting in front of her, his face almost unrecognizable. No words were brave enough to escape her quivering lips but inside she was yelling what ever word came to her mind. She clutches tighter onto the strap of her bag but is unable to take a step. Afraid that if she takes one step she'd loose her strength and find herself collapsed on the floor.

Unable to control all the emotions one person had rekindled, his face brightens as he saw her and he felt a swell of affection and hope for this school year. He sits up from his seat and slips his phone into his pocket regardless if he had forgotten to lock it. It was clear that the article he had promised to finish today wouldn't be finished in the set deadline. He didn't seem to care.

"It's been ages." He swallows. Grief-stricken, he shook his head. "I mean, How are you?"

And they stood for a moment in silence, both with a vague sense that the evening had not started well. Especially not for her, Sung Joon could sense her distaste towards his presence. It pained him to see her look at him like that but how could he blame her though? It was him who left her. Without a thought, he extends a hand as if to console her and maybe hear her voice. The voice he'd become so familiar with. He missed it so much.

"D-Don't." Seul whispered in desperation and tears sprang into her eyes. It was such an unimaginable situation that Seul didn't know what to think. When he approached her she made a feeble attempt to fend him off with one arm. She had never been so frightened in her life.

"Don't touch me." Seul's voice wavered; she was silently sobbing now and although she was only strong enough to take short glances afraid to make eye contact she could tell through her moistened eyes that he was worried. The face was familiar, of course it was, it was the same expression he'd always use whenever she was upset. She just didn't expect to see it again. She wanted to go home, forget the club meeting and go home.

"I'm in the wrong room, sorry for interrupting." She spat the words and stormed away from that hateful, hateful place. All around her people were staring now but she didn’t care, she just wanted to be out. 'Do not cry, you will not cry', she commanded herself. She broke into a run. Despite her vow, Seul felt hot tears of humiliation prick her eyes, and now she was stumbling on those stupid, stupid high shoes, and there was an audible gasp from a few students fortunate enough to watch the show behind her as she fell to her knees.

Before he could even say anything she was gone, and he found himself by the door, standing alone in this empty head quarters trying to imagine what he would possibly do next. He couldn't seem to bring himself to run after her afraid he would make it worse. She already looked at him with so much hate Sung Joon couldn't imagine what could be worse.

For a moment, Sung Joon had a fleeting but perfectly clear memory of himself at his parent's loft, feet planted firmly onto the soft white carpeting while Seul yelled, begged and did what she could to save the dying relationship. Yet somehow he had managed to treat this as nothing, to throw it all away for dross. She had asked Sung Joon several times why he was unable to fight for something—anything. Perhaps it was huge ego or his inability to be strong enough to fight for what he wants. He imagines himself apologizing, fighting for what is his and pushing his ego aside instead of walking away. Could it had ended differently if he did? He tries out the words in his head. 'I'm sorry, Park Seul. I'm Sorry.'

"Seul..." He whispers. Sung Joon had caught up with her, he jogs towards her—legs rested limp on the ground with her fists shut tight on her lap as she lets out soft sobs with her head hung low and uses his strength to help her up.

Firmly she shook herself free from his grip. Using her own strength to lift disheveled state up from the floor. She didn't need his help, she managed well on her own without her and she intends to continue doing so.

"I said don't touch me."

The remark was so belligerent and sour that Seul visibly winced, and just at the corner of her eyes she see's that Sung Joon seemed a little taken aback too, his desperate attempts to speak to her stopping abruptly. She stumbles forward, collecting her belongings that found its way all over the waxed flooring and keeps her head hung low as she heads out through the doors pushing them closed behind her so that the metal edge cracked him sharply on the knee.