Note:

Flashbacks and thoughts in italics.

I do not condone or encourage any behaviors in this story. It is simply a fictional story.

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Shitty breakups are hard to forget. Maomao liked the sound of wind blowing inside shells. The ones that made a deep noise and echoed inside your soul. Memories with Jinshi were like that, echoes of the past from a conch shell, awakening her occasionally with a jolt, exposing her to the truth that you won't find the one you can click with ease every other day, so you shall consider yourself lucky and try not to lose them when you meet them.

Sometimes—for people, it's once in a lifetime. Once it's lost with the air blowing from the conch, it's lost with the wind. Forever. Romance is hushed. If only romantic love could be effortlessly explained in the language of conch shells on the beach.

Maomao stepped out of the car and admired the place. She's here for her brother's marriage. He had found the love she had lost in time, and she was happy for him. What baffled her was finding out that he was gay, as baffled as she was when she found out Rikuson was too... She still remembers when Lahan showed her the picture of his fifth girlfriend because the fifth one was a boy.

The fast life had seized her soul before, and she had felt what dust bunnies would feel getting sucked into a vacuum cleaner. She had stayed up at night and partied, wild and free, but nowadays, life has forced her into healthy habits, like exercising and sleeping on time. Being a night owl might not cut her life short, but Maomao refused to live horribly and leave all the suffering to when she became an old lady. Lakan hugged her, "Ah, if it isn't my Smol Cat."

She giggled, squeezing him back. She was not that resentful child that she had been ten years ago. She had come to accept that her parents' divorce was no one's fault. It was just not meant to be. Lakan had lost many years without seeing a glimpse of his daughter due to her mother's stubborn family and the mess of misunderstandings. But he had done everything in his power over these years to prove to Maomao that he was the best dad in the world.

When Jinshi's eyes met hers, he thought she would recoil like a cat dropped in the bathtub, but instead, she held his gaze and touched his hands. He gripped her palm firmly the instant she latched on, gaze darkening. "Jinshi." He said. They shook hands like they were making a business deal.

"Maomao." Came the reply. They were far from perfect strangers. This drama was for nobody but themselves, to polish out the bad blood, if there was any. He could picture their history in his mind as though it happened yesterday. She rarely cried. He remembered as he climbed the stairs that led to the dimly lit corridors. All the celebrations were downstairs, so the fourth floor of this colossal house was practically abandoned. She had the unique ability to make him end up looking like a clown whenever he reasoned with her. He remembered that, too.

"I didn't know you started smoking." He turned around at the exclamation. Maomao had folded her hands, scanning him disapprovingly.

"What a bother!" He huffed. "It's been years. There are many things you don't know about me."

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Maomao met Jinshi for the first time when they were kids. That day, he was clad in a red shirt that was so bright it stood out and caught her attention while she was passing by behind the metal mesh walls dividing the playground and the swimming pool. When their eyes locked, the volleyball hit Jinshi square in the face, the cost of his pleasant distraction. They never spoke to each other for the next three years.

Then, Maomao transferred and found out he was her classmate in high school. Jinshi became her friend. She found out he was "a good one" when she found out they had the same taste in books and music. Love happened along the way, easy-breezy during the days they hung out in the small town, in the theatres, coffee shops, aquariums, classrooms, and bookshops, speeding through the eternal streets in Jinshi's car at the break of midnight.

Love caught them off-guard. It seemed like they had endless time, but it was just an illusion, spurts of mirths and colorful highs that never lasted long. They were both idiots. Idiots in love who wasted so much time. Maomao reminisced.

It's funny how much Jinshi has changed. He had gotten sturdier, rakish even. Cockier? No doubt. He had taken to acting while Maomao pursued med school. Years passed, and he became a famous actor, while Maomao made a name for herself in her field as a surgeon. "What do you mean you wanna break up?" Jinshi grabbed her shoulder and shook hard. "Why can't you wait for me?" They were both immature.

The room was dark, and she could only hear his voice. She took the bottle of liquor forcibly out of his hands and switched on the desk lamp. "Let me drink. I'm sad."

"You've reached the limit."

"I don't care." He expelled a pained groan.

She had told him that he would forget. But it didn't console his raging heart in the slightest. He was going abroad to fulfill his dreams, and she didn't believe in long-distance relationships. She braced herself for heartbreak when she knew what he was up to. He thought that they were family. Nobody forgot "family"—Family belonged together. However, Maomao didn't make decisions with her heart. She believed he had thrown all rationality out the window, purging all hopes for their future together. He fell to his knees and hugged her legs, sobs breaking out of him as hot tears bled into her pajamas.

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She took a bite of the blueberry crepe mousse on the plate in her left hand and moaned. "I missed these. Your mom sure knows how to make a cake." She praised. Jinshi's house was only a few hundred meters away from theirs. He could do nothing but grouch as his mother dragged Maomao, "the daughter she naver had!"—to their house when she got the chance.

"This is totally unnecessary." That bought him a sharp flick to his forehead from his mother.

"Don't be rude to our guest." She squared her shoulders and scrutinized him with a glare. "Isn't that your friend? Treat her well."

Their relationship hadn't been loud or paraded, regardless of what anyone would assume. Lahan knew—what did that nosy prick not know? It was almost a secret affair because nobody saw Jinshi mope around after the break-up due to his departure overseas, and Maomao kept to herself—come rain or shine—like a fortress. Jinshi's best friend knew, but his parents had their own issues. They failed to catch up with everything that had progressed—right under their noses.

"I have a girlfriend."

He said as soon as Ah-Duo left the room. Maomao's face paled, a mixture of surprise and disappointment dusting her features. "Oh. Who is she?" She took another bite of the cake and swallowed hard. The cream tasted insipid all of a sudden.

"Name's Aylin. She's a model."

Maomao blinked owlishly and drawled, "I've seen her in movies."

Jinshi hummed. He supposed she must be a film nerd and must watch many movies to find Aylin in one because Aylin sucked at acting, which is why, despite being a Nepo baby, she mostly stuck to modeling.

Maomao squinted down from the balcony at the ripples on the small pond in Ah-Duo's garden. "See, I knew you'd get over it." She muttered under her breath, poker-faced.

"Huh?" He glanced her way.

She shrugged and beamed. "Nothing."

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A week later,

Maomao relaxed on the lawn, gleaming green in the sun, looking at the photograph of her parents' quiet, luminous wedding. The La Manor was huge. Round hills rolled onto the horizon, and the sea was blue beyond a vast white fence. Lahan had married someone who spoke the same language of love as him. Maomao hoped the happiness he found with his partner would last for a lifetime. She had faith he'd spend less time translating his soul for his lover to understand, unlike what happened with her parents.

Once Rikuson threw his bouquet without looking back, Maomao was the one who caught it by accident. She even wondered if he had deliberately thrown it her way. Catching the bouquet is kinda like publicly declaring she would be the one to get married next. She gazed at the pink carnations and peonies in awe as the crowd roared with cheers, whistles, and laughter. Lahan kissed her head before their car vroomed into the distance.

She has had times when she thought that maybe the light shining through Jinshi's heart was too bright for her darkness to take. She used to think love took little to no effort until Jinshi happened. Perhaps their separation had to happen for her to grow out of the shell of the old version and become a more rounded person who knew how to give herself to others: how to love. Losing him taught her that "loving" was an active process and that she had been doing it wrong all those times. Yes. You can't expect everything in your life to go the right way. You see, shit happens sometimes.

"It was a lie." Jinshi's voice has gotten deeper, grown out of the teenage tenor into its chime-like richness. He was an actor, after all. She can't blame him for imitating the voice of hot men in movies the female lover couldn't help but fall in love with—at the cost of practicality.

She had lost many years to resentment and open wounds in the soul left by her mother. She had stopped prying into the darkness, closing the chapters of her past for good. Maomao stood up from the ground, walked past him, and strolled through a path between the spruce trees that led to the gate at the backyard. He followed her. As her footsteps slowed, he blocked her path by looming over her. She raised her chin and looked him straight in the eye—like she did the first time when they were kids. "What was a lie?"

"Aylin. We're just pretending to date. It's a PR Stunt." He whispered, pinning her under his fierce gaze.

Maomao stepped closer silently. He closed his eyes when her lips crashed into his, hands skimming over the small of her waist, not touching. "Will you be mine again?" She asked. She smoothed down her skirt and held her breath, heart pounding in her chest.

He peeked above their heads at the cherry blossoms that shuddered and rained petals after a strong wind. He drew in a long breath and blew out a sigh. "If I do that, we'll hurt each other with sayonaras again."

Her toes curled. "I missed you every day. But I'll leave you alone if you don't want me anymore."

"You're jumping into conclusions." He cleared his throat. "You're the most infuriating woman ever. Who else will annoy me if you leave me alone?"

A corner of his mouth twitched as he spread his arms wide. The clump of scotch roses on either side of the pathway had been dotted gold in the sun. She gasped, cupping her mouth with a hand. Her shirt ruffled and made her seem like an angel with feathers. Maomao shook herself out of the stupor, lurching into his embrace, short of breath. He laughed, turning on his heels and twirling her around. "Welcome back, Maomao."

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