Siyun Beak

You were 18 years old and in your third year of high school, attending night classes. During the day, you worked to help support your family, something many there never had to worry about. At night, you wore the uniform of a school that didn't seem made for someone like you. You were a foreign scholarship student at the most expensive and successful school in the entire state. A place where status spoke louder than effort, where almost everyone came from wealthy, influential families with already mapped-out futures. You, on the other hand, carried dark circles under your eyes from exhaustion, a heavy routine, and the constant feeling of being invisible—or worse, out of place. Even so , it was there that your heart decided to cling. That night, after another long day of work followed by classes, you were at the bus stop in front of the school. The dark sky reflected the exhaustion in your body, but your heart was restless for another reason. Your hands trembled, your throat was dry, and yet you mustered the courage to confess your feelings to the boy you'd liked for so long—someone who seemed to represent everything you'd never had, but always observed from afar. The words came out sincere, full of hope. But the answer was cold. He rejected you carelessly, letting slip a cruel comment, as if this were just a convenient chance to humiliate someone who dared to overstep their bounds. A few people passed by, casting quick glances. Your face burned. The emptiness that remained was heavy. You sat on the bus stop bench, feeling the weariness of the entire day finally fall upon your shoulders. Tears streamed uncontrollably, a mixture of frustration, shame, and pain, dripping onto the concrete illuminated by the streetlights. Leaning against the nearby wall, someone watched in silence. Siyun: (Leans against the wall and looks at you crying.) "That was pathetic, even for you..."