Sara had finally emptied the bottle, sipping it little by little until not a drop remained. She couldn't drink anymore—her stomach felt full, and her throat dry in a different way. With a weary sigh, she sank onto the sofa.
"What exactly happened two years ago..."She muttered to herself, her voice barely audible. Strangely, she couldn't remember. She knew there had been a terrible fight with her family two days before the flight. She had stormed out of the house, luggage in hand, filled with anger and hurt.
But after that?Nothing.A blank space in her memory, like a fog too thick to see through. She tried to reach back—closing her eyes, furrowing her brow, forcing her mind to rewind.
Still nothing.Instead, a dull ache began to throb at her temples. Frustrated, she let out a breath and shook her head.
"Enough," she whispered.
She stood up and walked toward the bathroom, needing the silence and solitude of a hot shower to quiet her thoughts.
_______________________________________________________________________
It wasn't raining anymore, but the air had turned bitterly cold—chilled by three straight days of uninterrupted rain. The wind still howled with a sharpness that seemed to cut through skin and bone, reaching deep into the soul.
Maera walked aimlessly down the street, lost in thought. She couldn't remember the last time in these seven years that she and Sim had fought like this. It was the kind of argument that left silence in its wake.
Her mind spun in circles—on a life she had once abandoned, not for love, but for loyalty. Back then, she hadn't even loved Sim. Back then, she had longed for Sara with every breath. But because of Sim, she had let it all go—seven years ago—the last time she had embraced Sara.
What she had endured since then… words would never be enough to explain.But she still remembered Sara's voice that day—cracked, full of pain.And what astonished her most was how, even now, Sara still believed in her, held on to her like a prayer whispered into the dark.
And Sim...?Maera's eyes welled up.
The wind picked up, slicing colder across her face. She tilted her head back and looked toward the sky. A single raindrop landed on her cheek—then another.
A little girl passing by clutched her mother's hand and cried, "Mom... it's raining again!"There was anxiety in her tone, like the rain unsettled her instead of delighting her.
Maera smiled faintly at the girl.May you never come to love the rain the way I do, she thought.
Rain is just an excuse…What I really need is a place to hide my tears.
She whispered the thought like a quiet poem. At that very moment, a single tear slipped down her cheek, indistinguishable from the drops falling from the sky.
She kept walking.She hadn't brought an umbrella when she left home—and for once, she didn't care.
Today, the rain didn't bother her.Today, the cold couldn't touch her.
She walked, soaked and silent, as if the water might wash away something deeper than sorrow.
Then suddenly, like a flash of light across a long-forgotten corner of the mind, a thought struck her—If only I had chosen Sara… she would've never hidden things from me. She would've never broken a promise.
The realization hit her with staggering clarity: she had broken Sara's heart far more deeply than she'd ever allowed herself to admit. And now, Sara had nowhere left to belong.
Without thinking further, Maera turned and began walking—faster now—Toward Sara's house.
_______________________________________________________________________________
It had been two hours since Sam and Zero returned home, both thoroughly exhausted from the day. As they stepped inside, Sam glanced at Zero and asked, "Hey, you hungry? Or… need anything?"
Zero looked at him, a faint smile playing on his lips."No, my butler. I just need rest. And don't worry—I'll wake you if I need anything," he replied, teasing.
Sam scowled. Of course, he wasn't going to let that slide."At your service, master. But do try to lift a finger now and then—or I might soon be free of a rather spoiled employer," he shot back, leaping onto Zero's bed with theatrical flair.
Zero gave him a death stare."Hey, why are you lying on my bed like it's yours? Go lie on the couch."
"Why should I?" Sam grinned, refusing to move. "I'm sleeping right here. Try and stop me."
Zero sighed, defeated. There was no winning with Sam. Grumbling, he perched on the edge of the bed beside him."Fine. Let's at least watch something."
"Great idea," Sam said, grabbing the remote and flicking through the options. "What's this one?" he asked, noticing a file in Zero's USB drive.
"The Perks of Being a Wallflower," he read aloud.
"No clue," Zero admitted. "Downloaded it, but never watched."
And so, they hit play.
By the time the credits rolled, Sam was sound asleep. That was just like him—if someone gave him ten russian girls for free, he'd still choose sleep over them. Sleep was his first love, always.
Zero glared at the screen in frustration and shut the movie off."Idiot. Put on such a depressing film and then dozes off, leaving me to suffer through it alone. And the worst part? Not even a happy ending."
He was mad at Sam—but also a little heartbroken by the story. The protagonist never even got to confess their feelings. It hit a little too close.
Outside, the rain had returned, louder and fiercer now.
Zero turned over his head to the wide window facing the garden. Sheets of rain poured down like a waterfall. He didn't love the rain itself—but the scent of the earth after rain.. That smell always calmed him, made him feel like he'd stumbled into a quieter, softer world.
He couldn't describe it. He just felt it.
then he lowerd his head, he looked at Sam—still fast asleep, breathing steadily, face utterly peaceful. He looked like someone who had wandered far and finally found rest. A tired traveler home at last.
Zero couldn't help it—he smiled.
A wish rose quietly inside him.If only you could always fall asleep like this—right beside me.
But the warmth of that thought quickly twisted into a familiar ache. He remembered his dream. And his grandmother's words.
He looked at Sam again, unable to look away. He never tired of watching him.
Of course, Sam wasn't ordinary. His sharp, striking features. Naturally golden hair. A perfectly straight nose, Long lashes, glowing skin, uncut natural nails that glinted faintly, soft pink lips, strong arms…And that scent.
God, that scent.
Zero stared helplessly, the urge building inside him until all he wanted was to lean forward and kiss Sam's lips—just once. To touch him. To feel that connection, if only for a second.
But the craving scared him.
He moved back suddenly, afraid he might lose control. He couldn't allow himself to cross that line. He turned, trying to leave the room—when Sam stirred.
Still half-asleep, Sam rolled over and—without warning—latched onto Zero. One leg draped across him. One arm pulled him in like a pillow.
Zero froze.He hadn't seen it coming.
Sam's warmth was suddenly everywhere—his body pressed close, his breath hot against Zero's neck. Zero's heart pounded so loud it echoed in his ears. He didn't dare move. It felt like even a shift might trigger a catastrophe.
Meanwhile, Sam—blissfully unaware—held onto him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oblivious to the chaos erupting in Zero's chest, mind, and soul.
Sam's scent wrapped around him again, more intoxicating now, and Zero could hardly think straight.
But he didn't pull away.
Maybe, just for a moment, he didn't want to.
He slowly rested a hand on Sam's back, closed his eyes, and lay still—just breathing.
For now, this was enough.
What more could he ask for?
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Sara's house wasn't far from the park—just a thirty-minute walk. But Maera took nearly an hour to get there. When the doorbell rang, Sara, who had just stepped out of the shower five minutes earlier, opened the door—and froze.
Standing in front of her was Maera.
Soaked in the rain. Drunk. Barely holding herself up.
She looked like a gambler who'd lost everything.
Sara stared in stunned silence.Maera didn't wait. As soon as she saw Sara, she stepped forward and wrapped her in a desperate embrace.
"Sara… you… Sara…"
She slurred, the words barely forming. She was clearly drunk—so much so that she couldn't tell what to say and what not to.
Sara's heart twisted. Seeing Maera in this state was painful.
"Maera, you're completely soaked. And drunk. Wait here, I'll grab you a towel and some clothes," she said, about to step away.
But Maera clutched her wrist."Don't go. You're leaving too… Everyone leaves me. You can't. I won't let you."
Her voice cracked with a mixture of anger and heartbreak.
"Maera, I'm just getting you clothes," Sara said, trying to pull away.
"Clothes? Ohhh… so we're going shopping now?" Maera blinked, confused. "But this doesn't look like a mall. Is this a furniture store? Are you going to trap me in a sofa?!"
Her nonsense ramblings, full of absurd twists and broken logic, made Sara's head spin.
Frustrated, she grabbed Maera and pushed her gently onto the couch."Maera! Sit here. And don't move until I'm back," she said in a sharp, motherly tone.
"Okaaayyy, mommy… you look soooo yummy…" Maera cooed, swaying like a child.
Sara rolled her eyes.She's a damn menace when she's drunk. What the hell happened to her tonight?
With a sigh, she hurried to her room and returned with a towel, a set of clothes, and a small bottle of medicine.
"Drink this. You need to sober up before you get sick," Sara said as she handed her the bottle.
But Maera was busy flying an imaginary airplane with her hands, making loud "weeeeee" sounds as if she were a five-year-old.
Sara tried pulling her up, but Maera squealed,"No! Sara!! My plane will crash! All the passengers will die!"
Sara stared in disbelief."What did you eat today, woman?"
But suddenly, Maera went silent. Her tone shifted completely.
"Sara," she said softly.
Sara turned to look at her, surprised by the sudden clarity in her voice.It was like someone had changed the channel.
"I'm sorry," Maera said. Her voice was trembling. "I've hurt you so much. You cared for me, but I never cared back. And the truth is… I loved you. Maybe… I still do. What Sim did—I don't even know why. But if it were you, I know you never would've done that. You never would've broken your promise. You never would've kept secrets from me…"
Tears welled in Sara's eyes. At first, she smiled—touched by the confession. But then Maera's next words shattered that warmth.
"Please… stay with me."
The smile disappeared.
"So that's all I am now?" Sara asked quietly. "A backup plan?"
She let out a bitter laugh, caught between grief and disbelief."Maera, when did you become so cruel?"
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
All she had ever done was love.But it seemed that in this twisted universe, love was a punishment. Her love had been dragged through mud, and the person doing it… was the one she loved.
Still, Sara didn't argue. She handed Maera the medicine.
"Take this. Once you're sober, everything will make more sense."
Her voice held sorrow—deep and tired.This love was bleeding now.
But love, true love, never complains. Even the dagger in a lover's hand feels like a healing touch.Love doesn't always mean possession—it sometimes means enduring the heartbreak in silence.
Sara helped Maera change into dry clothes. When Maera sobered up just a little, Sara guided her gently to the bedroom.
"The heater's on. Get some rest. I have to step out for a while."
Maera lay down, still dazed. She watched Sara moving across the room—blurry, shadowed. Sleep pulled at her. Or maybe it was the alcohol.
But she still saw her.
Sara—hair down, lip piercing glinting faintly, wrapped in a sleek black dress, a white fox mask in one hand.
Maera wanted to say something.But instead, she closed her eyes.
Outside, the rain still fell.Sara opened her umbrella and stepped into the storm.
Wind. Lightning. Thunder. None of it bothered her. She welcomed it, walked through it like it belonged to her. It didn't shake her—it sharpened her.
She walked until she reached the café. Her steps stopped at the door. She entered, silent as always.
As expected, the moment she appeared, the atmosphere shifted. But this time, she didn't go straight into a song.
She picked up the mic.
And for the first time, she spoke.
"I want to apologize for my long absence… There were medical reasons—I couldn't make it. But thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for waiting for me… for loving me."
The room was silent, hanging on every word.
"The song I'm about to sing… it isn't just a song. It's a feeling. A wound. A truth. Maybe something more painful than death itself. I won't take any names. But if the person I'm singing for is listening… I hope you understand."
The café erupted in applause—loud, warm, overwhelming.
Sara picked up her guitar.She let her fingers find the strings.The music began.And with it… the tears.
Because tonight, her heart was the melody.And her pain—was the song.
My dear love, my heart is not made of steel.
You are my good friend,
but I'm afraid I can't be your friend forever.
I want to be something else—
but someone you love.
Why don't you understand this pain?
Why don't you understand?
Your words hurt me the most.
My life is already a mess—
please don't make it worse.
My heart feels like it's squeezing.
Blood is dripping from it.
I can't even cry.
Do you even know how it feels?
Please, don't do this to me.
Please, don't be so cruel to me.
My only mistake was loving you.
Please forgive me for loving—
but now this pain is killing me.
Every day feels like a new game.
A game I never wanted to play.
Can you show me the road to the grave?
Can you give me this one gift—
an escape from this misery?
Please don't go away.
Please don't do this to me.
I will die if you don't change your behavior.
If you don't like me, just tell me—
but please, don't make me feel like a piece of debris.
my love... I love you so much.
Just give me a little moment in your arms—just a moment…It would be enough.Enough for a lifetime.
My love...don't go.Just remember this one thing…I love you.So much."
Tears slipped down Sara's cheeks as the last note of her song faded into silence. The café, breathless for a moment, erupted into thunderous applause.
They had felt it.Every word.Every raw emotion.
Sara blinked quickly, trying to smile through the tears. "Thank you," she said softly into the mic. She placed the guitar back on its stand, wiped her cheeks, and gave a small bow before stepping off the stage.
She picked up her camera and began making her way toward the exit, head down, heart heavy—but lighter, somehow, for having finally spoken her truth.
Then—she collided with someone.
"I'm so sorry," she muttered, flustered, brushing past the figure.
As she looked up, the stranger was just standing there, still and silent.
"I said I'm sorry," she repeated politely, trying to move past him.
But then—
"Sara…"
The voice didn't come from the man.
It came from behind him.
A girl.
A girl laughing.
"Dan! There you are! I've been looking all over for you."
Sara stopped in her tracks.
It was Sim.
She rushed up to the man—Dan—and grabbed his arm with a flirtatious ease that didn't match the storm outside. Dan smiled back at her, warm and easy.
"I've been right here," he said. "Where did you disappear to?"
And they stood there.Under the same rain that had soaked Maera to the bone.Laughing.Flirting.
Carefree.
While Maera was back at home—broken. Hurting. Crying over this same girl.
Something inside Sara snapped.
Her blood boiled.
Maera had been tearing herself apart for Sim, drowning in guilt, regret, and longing. And here Sim was—laughing in the rain with her new "friend," like none of it had ever mattered.
Sara clenched her fists.
She wanted to walk over and tear Sim apart—shake her, scream at her, crush her for what she had done.
But she didn't.
She simply turned…and walked away.
Silent.Burning.And done pretending.
TO BE CONTINEUD...