Pretend | A MiChaeng Story

Chapter 19: Exhale

It was shaping up to be one of the worst nights Chaeyoung had ever had in her life.

She stared at the wall in total darkness, laying on her side. Mina, asleep, had rolled away after a bit, leaving just the slightest touch of her fingers on her back as the only contact between them.

It was enough to rob Chaeyoung of any peace. She was painfully, awkwardly, tinglingly aware of her own body. Every inch of her skin reacted acutely at the touch of fabric. Every pore on her face tickled, threatening to make her lose her mind. Loose strands of her own hair brushed maddeningly against her nose and forehead no matter how much she tried to sweep them away, making her wish she could tear it all off.

She tried to avoid moving too much, afraid to wake Mina up and causing her to touch any part of her overly sensitive skin. Slowly, carefully, she reached for her phone next to the pillow, and unlocked it under the covers so the glare of the screen wouldn't light up the room. It was 3:48AM. She'd been lying awake for three hours. The hot pillow hugged her face, each graze of her ear against the fabric turning into a deafening cacophony.

She shifted her position carefully, trying to find more comfort. Her clothes tugged and hung, as if they were someone else's. She was exhausted from the concert, and on top of it the lack of sleep was starting to make her body protest. Her eyes stung, her neck hurt. And yet, her heart wouldn't shut up and let her go to sleep.

She scratched her upper lip with her fingernails, maybe a bit too hard. Her sore arms and legs pulled at her muscles with their own limp weight. She curled up slowly, then stretched back out, straightening up. She had just waxed her legs the morning before, but she would've sworn she could feel little pricks of hair piercing through her skin already, growing out from under it, endlessly, relentlessly making her itch all over.

Like an old, rusty, clunky machine, she could hear the screech and grind of every one of her joints every time she executed the smallest movements. Her blood pumped hard and fast, filling every nook and tip of her with pulsing heat and allowing her to feel, sense, perceive her existence and her size, the space she took up. She was a horrifying amalgamation of organs and flesh, writhing, growing, decaying. And right next to her was the perfect, ethereal center of the universe, releasing a soft aura of a floral smell. Lavender, Jazmine, Soap. How did she smell so good all the time? Chaeyoung, hot and sweaty, could almost envision her own ugly stench clashing against Mina's delicate scent.

She couldn't bear it anymore. She stood up and escaped to the living room, moving at an excruciatingly deliberate pace to avoid making any noise.

For an international star, she sure suffered bitterly under the spotlight of her own gaze. A mirror in the far wall of the living room showed her a small figure sitting on the floor in the middle of it all. She was lanky, all squares, spikes and straight angles. Too small and too big at the same time.

It took her the better part of an hour to pry her eyes away from the reflection. That gross, unsettling thing.
She let herself fall on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The smoke alarm's red light blinked every minute or so, tethering her to reality and allowing her to make sure time hadn't stopped. In the murky, thick darkness of the too-large living room, Chaeyoung let herself be alone again. Not even the little girl inside her brain was with her anymore.

And yet Mina was there, in the quiet. The black silhouette of a swan, looming over Chaeyoung's own jagged form.

She sat down next to Chaeyoung without making a sound. The younger girl ignored her, not sure if she was even real or just some figment of her pathetic, tortured imagination.

Mina remained a foot away, sitting in silence for a bit, then laid down next to her.
"What's bothering you? Is it the girls?" She whispered, meaning Sana and Jihyo.