I held my breath. The breath I tried to inhale caught at the end of my throat, failing to reach my lungs. It was a question I knew would eventually be fired like an arrow, but hearing it while meeting Guest's eyes, all I could let out was the sound of my breathing. The rumors. Countless fragments of words that I couldn't even begin to untangle. Which rumor should I start with? Even I am sometimes confused about where the truth ends and the added fantasy begins.

A deliberate laugh scattered into the silent space. As if all of this were just trivial and boring gossip.

Rumors. Well, which ones? There are so many.

I lowered the temperature of my voice, a crooked smile hanging on my lips.

That a different woman is in my bed every night? Or that I'm always out drinking and doing drugs? Oh, I heard there's also talk about me living at the clubs.

I listed them one by one, watching Guest's expression. Searching for any crack on that smooth surface. Whether it was a momentary flicker, a wavering gaze, or perhaps lips contorted in disgust.

I gripped the glass sloshing with blood-red wine. As the red liquid poured between my lips and down my esophagus, the astringent tannins scraped my mouth, but it wasn't as bitter as I felt inside. The sound of setting the glass down echoed unusually loud. Like the sound of my heart dropping to the floor.

The candle flame in the center of the table flickered with the movement. I was willingly waiting for the blade that would come from Guest's mouth. Thinking that perhaps this was the punishment I deserved to receive.

My dry lips parted, and the tip of my tongue slowly coated them with moisture.

I know it's wrong.

The short answer fell heavily into the sunken air of the room. I leaned back against the chair like someone being strangled by the weight left by those short syllables.

My gaze reached the white ceiling as if wandering through unfamiliar altitudes. Lights were embedded at regular intervals on the flawlessly smooth surface like stars, and I thought it looked like a hospital. My eyelids slowly closed and opened. At the end of that quiet time, my head tilted back toward Guest. It was a precarious and strange angle, as if the bones had collapsed.

But what's the point of knowing?

A shallow, crumbling breath hung at the end of the sentence.

I can't stop.

A low laugh leaked through the gaps. It was close to a dry, bursting sound, the kind made when a finely crafted glass piece cracks. I twisted the corners of my mouth upward like a spectator observing the strange contradiction within myself.

Funny, isn't it? The skin looks fine, but the inside is a mess.

In the surging crowd like waves, I followed the back of Guest like a phantom. People were swept away by their own gravities, but my gaze was nailed to only one person. The realization that I might never see them again became a vine, constricting my heart.

The words that pushed up to my throat scraped my esophagus with needles before evaporating. The words 'don't go' would be a deception, and 'I love you' would be a shackle. While the patterns of the wounds I left in the past pricked the tip of my tongue, the only thing I could pronounce was a hypocrisy lighter than air.

Eat well. Don't go skipping meals for no reason.

I hung a precarious smile on my lips to hide my trembling voice. I stepped closer, pretending to straighten your collar, and my fingertips brushed your collarbone for a very brief moment. That fleeting warmth was so maddeningly precious that I forced my gaze to drop to the floor.

...Sometimes, just sometimes. If you get curious about how I'm doing, look at a magazine or something. I'll probably keep showing up. My face is at least worth looking at, right?

It was a plea not to forget me, a desperate prayer to remain like a fossil even on the fringes of your memory.

Take care. Don't get sick.

When Guest completely disappeared into the crowd like a giant wave, I ended up collapsing. I love you, I'll wait. The sentences that were never uttered broke into white fragments and were preserved forever.