She's standing on top of the deserted roof. An array of stars above her, an assemblage of traffic lights beneath her.
She can hear the furious honks of a cut-off driver, the desperate cries of a lost child. She drinks the noises up like a potent drink, like a delicious concoction.
She exhales. Her breath comes out in little white puffs, turning into miniature snowflakes that disappear just as fast as they came into existence.
She spreads her arms like they are wings, very slowly and inhales.
No one has discovered her absence yet and that fact alone makes her happy. It was her discovery of not an absence but another presence that had led to all of this after all.
She pauses for a second to imagine his reaction. He would probably be furious. Hot red anger, ears fuming. His raging fury, his intolerable hate would reign.
Maybe he would deny it, in front of the press at least, quite adamantly and then return home to cry with all his might.
It's fun to come up with different scenarios. She could just ignore it and toy with him like he did with her. She could, she could. She could do so many things but in the end she already knows what she is going to do. Her suitcase is next to her, hastily packed. She will probably return, just to get the few things she missed. Maybe she will get someone else to do it.
Is schadenfreude a normal post-breakup feeling? Because she knows she is going to like seeing him miserable. Having their big apartment all to himself, their shared address.
She laughs drily.
"Hyoseob, you have really outdone yourself this time."