Catherine Jung is a competitive model student. She maintains excellent grades, and she's popular for being both smart, beautiful, and for being the daughter of the school principal. She has the life envied and aspired by everyone. And then there was Vernon Choi, the total opposite. He gets into fights, barely makes it into his classes, always gets suspended, and is on the brink of being expelled. He makes everyone scared, if not disgusted. In their senior year, these polar opposites meet and secrets started to unfold. She isn't as perfect as she seems. He isn't as trashy as he seems. One sells pleasure. One does drugs. One escapes reality in cocaine. One hides a mental illness. When these two people on the brink of destruction meet, Who saves who? Or is there saving at all?
View MorecatherineI have never ran so fast my entire life. Seconds felt like forever. My tears fell without a warning. Strangers began to look at me as I stood and waited on the crosswalks, my knees staggering as I paced in agitation. Upon the stop light, I bolted my way to the crossing lane. I ran to the emergency room of Jung Hospital and I immediately found my sister. Naeun hugged me. I wiped away my tears as I tried to calm her."Hey, hey, it's fine. Mom will be fine. Thank you for bringing her here," kneeling down, I cupped her cheeks and hushed her down.Naeun called 911 when mom lost fainting and consciousness. According to Naeun, she vomited blood before that which our neighbor thankfully cleaned while I was in school. My nine-year old sister could only handle so much. It's bad enough
catherineI threw my head back laughing. Vernon suppressed his grin by biting his lower lip, leaning on his elbow, and tilting his head as he watched me. When all the laughing subsided, I found his eyes back, their honey-coated irises twinkling in amusement, and the lines on the side of his lips were rising."Is that really a thing?," my brows furrowed."Oh you can search it," he pursed his lips on my phone.I shook my head and laid beside him instead."I'm starting to think this is how you are as a boyfriend.""You mean?" He leaned his head on his palm. Now all that's left for me to see was his flexed
catherineWe collapsed beside each other, ending up entangled limbs and sweat-covered beings bundled in white sheets floating in a brief moment of ecstasy. I was still carried away in the bliss of the feeling but all of that dissipated when I heard Vernon mutter something."What?" I giggled upon hearing him say those words. As much as I wanted to sound unaffected, my feigned laughter turned too fake and nervous.I mean, that was too random and unexpected. I don't do boyfriends because I love them. I date because I like someone. And like is too shallow a feeling compared to love. With Jackson, I used to say I love yous but I don't think they were ever sincere. And they only came on the later pa
catherineVernon stilled in astonishment, gaping as if he had just heard the best news of his life. That flattered me, sent my heart warm and made it clench so good in gratitude. He inhaled sharply, stepped another inch closer and brushed his hand on my cheek. He crouched so our gazes would level.In a low quivering whisper, he seeked assurance. "Are you serious?""Yes. Why? Don't you want--" My words died in my throat. In one ferociously tender action, he kissed my strawberry lips crude and raw.Our mouth crashed at each other like converging tectonic plates, colliding in one violent haste-filled motion. His tongue reached down my throat. With its every flick, a bit of me withered.
catherineJB's house and his extravagant parties never fail to surprise me. The guy's a rich kid. Later that evening, I went there alone after declining Vernon's offer to pick me up.The familiar loud music filled my ears upon walking on to the door and my eyes were immediately overwhelmed for there was so much happening--one thing I never much liked about parties. The lights were dimmed, and some kids gathered in the living room, playing pool. On a corner, there was some girl twerking and the people around her cheering. By the sofa, a couple was dry humping, and on the near kitchen counter, a beer pong game was going on. The sight of it all was too chaotic but they seemed fun.I was greeted by a few girls, whose names I barely know. Some guys offered a high five and a beer but I poli
catherineVernon pulled away with a startled look on his face. It's not like we haven't made out before, and I could not entirely say those were meaningless, because no matter how I deny it, they meant something to me. But we have been strictly friends since that drunken night at JB's, and after that particular night in the bar. We've bonded like friends, studying, sneaking out in the library, and eating out together.The kissing part has already been foreign to me, yet the taste of his lips no matter how brief it was, resurrected the butterflies in my stomach. I distanced myself from him, suddenly feeling awkward after seeing him taken aback. My cheeks flushed profusely after realizing what I have done. I was never a conservative girl and a peck is nothing to me, but doing it on Vernon made me as shy as a middle schooler.
catherine"What can I do to help you, Cath?" In his hoarse bedroom voice, Vernon asked.The blinds of the unused classroom where we hid were all closed; prohibiting the tiniest sunlight in. We basked in the dimness of the room, only seeing the outlines of our bodies amid the shadows.When I had recovered from weeping, I laid on Vernon's lap as he sat on the desk. I didn't even know why I broke down that unexpectedly. It was just that he was saying so much, and my heart overflowed, and I had a downpour. I am the frailest emotional wreck at the moment, a lay of the finger could break me.He offered me his handkerchief which smelled of mint and the fresh morning dew from the woods, and I dried the ocean of my tears with its soft fabric. He and his handkerchief was the safety of
vernonAfter a few convincing, I made Catherine agree to attend a support group. I found the pamphlet at Daeyeong's desk earlier. He offered it to me after seeing that I have been eyeing it.Obviously, that made him more concerned. He asked me to talk about my "feelings" with him anytime or to talk it out with people who are going through the same thing. We weren't able to discuss more because I got pissed when he mentioned my deceased parents. It's not something I would want to talk to with anyone. But at least, I got the pamphlet. Upon reading it, I thought of Catherine.So that was what I immediately offered to her. At first, she was hesitant but for some reason, she soon heard me out."Okay," she said with the slightest turn of lips.
catherineThe anxiety and depresssion, it has happened to me a lot of times before, even when I was young and there wasn't really much to be depressed about.The first time I thought of dying, or wanting to die, was when I was eleven years old. I remember that clearly. It was my eleventh birthday and I got in a fight with my mom because she wouldn't let me invite my friends over. Don't get me wrong. My mom isn't a toxic parent, she was very nice and apologetic when she told me we had no money to celebrate my birthday and that I could not invite anyone. I, being spoiled and envious of my other friends who had nice birthday parties, threw a fit.My mom scolded me, and I tried to call my dad but he wasn't answering. It seemed like he didn't even remember my birthday. The open door of our classs that day gives an ample vi
Prologue Trembling hands and anxiety-stricken eyes are all I could see in the vanity mirror before me. It was a never-ending feeling. But it was also a never-ending process of shrugging it off, of pretending none of this scares me. I took turns in using random beauty products. Each glide of the mascara made my lashes longer and added life into the dead night that my eyes resembled. Dark shameless spots of imperfection hid beneath the concealer and yet another shade of eyeshadow made my eyes appear livelier than my life would ever be. Lastly, my parted lips welcomed the hue of red lipstick. Gone was its pale color and now, it was stained cherry wine. It’s ironic how the mirror in front of me said pretty but I still felt ugly. It only proves how satisfaction and self-love aren’t defined by a mere reflection but start from wi
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