chronicles of lovers.

꒰ echoes of our past ꒱ - chaeyoung

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 "you are more than just a dream."

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 echoes of our past ⸝⸝ son chaeyoung

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 song for this chapter: ⸝⸝ "out of my league" by fitz and the tantrums.

ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ

As I stepped into the grand ballroom, the memories of high school flooded back to me. The polished marble floors, the glittering chandeliers, and the air thick with whispers of the elite - it was all so familiar yet distant. This was our class reunion, five years later, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness mingled with excitement.

I scanned the room, my heart racing as I searched for her - Chaeyoung, my high school sweetheart. The one who made my heart flutter with a single smile, the one who filled my teenage years with laughter and love. I had spent the whole day reminiscing about our moments together, and now, here I was, hoping to see her again.

"Y/N! Over here!" A voice called out, snapping me out of my reverie. It was I-seul, one of my classmates who always seemed to have a knack for finding me in a crowd.

I forced a smile and made my way over to where she was sitting, surrounded by a group of our snobby classmates. "Hey, I-seul," I greeted, trying to ignore the judgmental glances directed my way.

"You look stunning, as always," she said, giving me a once-over. "So, have you heard from Chaeyoung? Is she coming tonight?"

I felt a pang in my chest at the mention of Chaeyoung's name. "Not yet," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "But I'm keeping my fingers crossed."

As the night went on, I found myself getting lost in the sea of faces, all of them belonging to people I used to know. They talked about their successful careers, their extravagant vacations, their designer clothes - everything that seemed so important in our high school days. But for me, none of that mattered. All I could think about was Chaeyoung and the memories we shared. The way she would laugh until tears streamed down her cheeks, the way she would hold me close during our late-night conversations, the way she made me feel alive.

As I navigated through the crowds, I couldn't help but notice the lingering stares and whispered conversations directed my way. I knew what they were saying - the same old rumors and gossip that followed me throughout high school.

"Y/N, darling, so glad you could grace us with your presence," came a saccharine voice from behind me. I turned to see Tiffany, the queen bee of our high school clique, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against her champagne flute.

"Likewise, Tiffany," I replied, plastering on a polite smile. "Though I must say, it's quite a surprise to see you here without your entourage of sycophants."

Tiffany's icy blue eyes (eye contacts since day one, by the way) narrowed, but before she could retort, her loyal sidekick Hwa-young chimed in. "Oh, Y/N, still clinging to that outdated sense of humor, I see. Some things never change, do they?"

I chuckled, unfazed by her jab. "Nope, some things do remain constant — like your unwavering commitment to mediocrity. Oh, and your nose job."

The snickers from the surrounding group were drowned out by the sound of my own laughter as I made my way, leaving Tiffany and her cronies in my wake.

As I meandered through the ballroom, reminiscing over old memories and exchanging pleasantries with former classmates, I spotted Vernon standing near the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. He had always been the quiet type, the one who sat in the back of the classroom, his eyes following me whenever I walked by. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as I approached him, knowing that I had never reciprocated his feelings.