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The party is going on, but Hanji doesn’t hear the music or see the crowds, pushing her way through to the fire door, shoving the door open with a ferocity which shocks the pairs kissing on the balcony. She thunders down the fire escape, almost slipping on the rain-slicked metal staircase, keeping her footing only out of rage and spite. She is tired of parties, tired of constant organising without a single moment of gratitude from those around her, tired of being expected to jump at everyone’s commands whilst being ignored when she asked for the simplest piece of help or advice. She hears a mocking ‘oooh’ from the couples on the staircase, coming up for air, and snarls under her breath, wrenching the hem of her skirt down firmly to cover herself a little more. The wind is biting, a rush of clear-headedness against the heat of a room with too many drunken bodies in it, all with one question on their wine-stained lips.
Breaking up with Mike five days before Christmas is not going to be at the top of the list of her greatest mistakes, but she makes a mental note that next time she thinks this is a good idea, she should either get it done before December starts, or wait it out until a more acceptable time of year. All those people in that room, asking if she misses him, who ended it, why she was there alone, that she looks so good that it is a shame to see it wasted. She stepped on the foot of the last person, feigning drunkenness. Of course she misses him, of course her hips feel bare without his hands on them, of course her body aches for him, her smile is wistful in the mirror in the morning, the space so large without his body behind her. She misses the way he’d seem shorter in bed, face to face as he moved inside her, their breath mingling as they became as close as it was possible for two people to be. She misses the security of being a couple, the way he’d put his jacket around her as they walked home, and how she never got catcalled.
There are skinny French boys outside the front door of the flat, smoking and laughing, their voices high in the soft night air, and she thinks she remembers seeing a few of them on magazine covers she had organised, thinks one of them barks something at her. It could be a greeting, it could be a curse, or something in between, but either way, she does not slow down, does not lift her head. She is sick to death of feeling defined by who she’s with, who she works for, which men she knows and fucks, and is exhausted from defending her decisions all night. Even Levi and Erwin looked at her with pity; the emotion which eats away at you instead of offering a hand. But that’s the joy of established couples, the way their hands fit together and their expressions match as they ask her where Mike is, and why her engagement ring isn’t perched where it normally is. Instead of adorning her finger with the pretty polished gem, her favourite diamond is lying, discarded, next to the bathroom sink, where she’d removed it before her bath, and decided she was never going to put it back on.
They all see it as a weakness, but she’s finally strong, finally stepping out from Mike’s long shadow and taking her own steps into the light - and she loves it there, loves being dazzled by the things which she could never do when they were together, the way her eyes linger a little too long on the perfectly coiffed boys at work, the way her favourite photographer asks her out for drinks and she can finally say yes, unafraid of being home late and scolded for it. She throws herself into work with sheer glee and abandon, and if she’s drunk too many nights, or wears outfits which leave little to the imagination and even less for men to remove, there is no one to tell her that she shouldn’t. She leaves scatterings of garments on bedroom floors all over the town, and steps out of their doors in the early morning, lipstick reapplied perfectly, and without an inch of shame.After so long spent being small, finally she can be who she is, spine straight and head tilted up, looking into the slate grey sky. She smiles coquettishly at nothing in particular, and considers that really, freedom is all she’s ever wanted.