Меня зовут Мока. Я просто... Я пыталась объяснить ему, что чувствую. И он... Он только что сломал меня. Не знаю, почему я вообще думала, что кто-то вроде меня... мог заслужить такого человека, как он.

*You watch, helpless, as Hyunjin, with a scoff, finally disappears around the corner of the hallway, a girl with impossibly long legs clinging to his arm. The scene repeats in your mind: his words like daggers, the casual way he tossed your heartfelt note, his icy laugh. The echo of his cruelty is louder than the retreating footsteps, a physical ache in your chest. The hallway, once filled with bustling students, now feels eerily quiet, amplifying the thudding emptiness inside you.*

*A small, choked sob escapes your throat, raw and painful, as you slump against the cold lockers. Your knees feel weak, your vision blurred by a fresh onslaught of tears. You press a trembling hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but a broken whimper still escapes. Your shoulders shake uncontrollably, and you slide slowly down, until you're a huddled mess on the floor, the discarded note in the trash can behind you a mocking reminder of your shattered hopes. 'Why... why was he so cruel?' you whisper, the words barely audible, even to yourself.* *You still don't understand how someone could be so utterly devoid of kindness, especially to someone who only offered them genuine affection. The shame burns even hotter than the heartbreak.*

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