Fake Real Friends

Mari sulks, sinking onto the table in disappointment at her state. As she edges her eyesight towards the sky, Soobin comes to mind—the person she had a crush on since middle school. He's not extremely popular, just the right amount of well-known. He's kind and polite to both his friends and strangers, one of the best students and everything nice.

Soobin has a round face and the cutest bangs that frame them, rosy cheeks that flush whenever Mari compliments him. She likes to wonder if it's just her or the actual possibility that he might have feelings for her too.

There was a chance, such a huge chance—she's pretty, of course, with long auburn hair and upturned eyes, red-rimmed and a little too beautiful for someone who doesn't wear makeup.

Mari is popular among most of the girls in class for her innocent looks and humble personality but most of her time is spent with Ara, the girl who she's trusted while in the womb. "Aish, thinking about this is so hard. If I was Sleeping Beauty then I'd have a rose…"

'Does he love me, does he not? Does he love me—'

Mari closes her eyes. Ara is the only person she has blindly loved and trusted like a sister, so much so that she wants to believe that her intuition is right when she says that Soobin feels the same.

Love is all she knows and it's foolish—maybe, but teenagers are foolish and crushes are a part of life. If she tries, prays, a little harder then maybe, just maybe, she'd have a fairytale like her own. It's a lot to give and possibly not a lot to take but she'd be willing to try, her heart laid out on the platter. She raises her head to the sound of her stomach grumbling.

It has been twenty minutes, the clock reminds her, edging her that something isn't right. Mari tucks her phone into the coat pocket of her blazer and drags her feet out the classroom door, ambling down the hallway in hopes of finding Ara.

Not far ahead, she finds a crowd of girls gathered around an awkward spot by the staircase, paying no heed to the passing students.

Out of curiosity, Mari approaches them, tip-toeing to get a look of what's going on. In the center, she catches sight of Ara, holding Mari's papers in-hand, showing them to the surrounding girls.

"Ara, what are you doing here?" she speaks up abruptly.

Ara flinches, immediately snatching the stories back and pressing the papers against her chest. The crowd breaks to make room for Mari, classmates clutching onto her shoulders and shaking her while muttering incomprehensible comments. Some squeal, others fawn but Mari only pays attention to Ara, forehead creased with discontent.

"I was waiting for you…"

"Ah! Don't worry, I wasn't doing anything weird. One of the classmates asked what I was holding and I decided to show them your story~ You know, so they know about how good of a writer you are!" Ara excuses, leaning awfully close to Mari to say it, as if it's something the others shouldn't hear.

"You don't mind, do you?" she bats her eyelashes, pouting. Mari blushes in embarrassment, shaking her head vigorously.

"Did you get the milk?"

"Yes," Ara smiles brightly. "I'll see you girls later~"

Ara waves, enjoying her brief second of popularity, something she received as a result of something she didn't do with her own effort.

Mari doesn't mind, after all, it's not like Ara tried to pass it off as her own. If anything, she's happy that Ara was proud enough of her writing to find it worthy of showing off to the other girls. Mari swoons, hugging Ara's arm affectionately.

"I'm so excited to show Soobin-sunbae my work."

"Mm, thought you would be," Ara ruffles Mari's hair, darkness flickering in her eyes in the short few moments she turns her head away.

Ara offers to tell Soobin to meet Mari after school for the confession since they've been acquaintances for a while, an idea that Mari is still reluctant to go through with but she succumbs to Ara's persuasion, nevertheless. Staring her story with determination, Mari slaps it firmly against the table, letting out a huff.

Azure fades into gentle shades of pink and honey, bathing the side of Mari's cheek in a warm orange glow. Her expression is blissful, eyes shining as she ponders on confession. Her heart drums loudly against her chest, rhythmically too. Eyes out towards the campus, she observes as students have started to file out of school, chattering lazily on the way home.

It's when the school bell rings that she feels as if she's going to jump out of her skin, tips of her ears reddening at the realisation of what awaits her. Bowing stiffly, she turns to Ara with pleading eyes. "Is it now?" her words come out as a whisper.

"Yes, come to the front of the school when you see me," Ara instructs. "Here, I'll take your papers and pass them to you when you arrive so we can pretend that I needed to pass you homework and you'll be able to go home with him," she takes the papers, surprising Mari.

She furrows her brows, confused by the explanation. She ponders on it for a few seconds, finding no sense in the words but she bites them back, insisting on being grateful to Ara instead for going out of her way to make the arrangements.

. . .

"My lady, it's morning," a voice calls out from the darkness, essentially snapping Myra out of her seemingly uncomfortable reverie. Myra, who has been lying for a while now with creases in her forehead and her lips parted as if she's been speaking to herself, wakes up.

As she sits up, she grows overly cautious of the throbbing of her heart. 'Am I still the person who I used to be or do I live on as the princess I am in this life?' she thinks blankly, her chest clenching as a sign to tell her that there is something she's missing.

Myra watches this change intently, lips pursing in thought as she notices that there may yet another thing about her family which she is yet to uncover.

While she is being undressed, a particular image from her dream flashes over her mind and her expression falls into a judgemental one yet again. 'Ara', this girl who looks so familiar, as if she's known her for years.

Even so, from just watching memories which feel so foreign to herself, there's something off about the way 'Ara' smiles, her suggestions. When Myra feels an achy feeling in her chest, almost nauseating, she knows, even deep down, that she's thinking of the right thing again.