Weeks have passed with the same weight on your shoulders. You have come around to learn how to ignore it. You have learned to distract yourself from it. You work, hang out with people, and entertain yourself with the media. But even then, the grave mistake you made to not take that promise ring off your finger kept reminding you of the shaking sentiment that often shines at the end of the day.

You have looked through different online shops to find out where you could have gotten the ring from. It was a long stretch. You knew it would take ages to find the actual shop, but the promise of long-term confusion somehow assured you that you would have an excuse to keep it with you longer.

It has been weeks, though, and your hope was thinning. You could not find any matches, even after you personally headed over to the shops and asked the staff to take a closer look. You even went so far as to search for the lesser-known brands that would still make rings with diamonds as sparkly and extravagant as the one you got. Nothing, it was like the ring was custom-made, and that made you feel worse about having it.

It must have been really important to the owner, you reckon. It should not be in your hands.

"I feel bad for keeping it," you spoke to the phone, where Chan sighed on the other side, most likely from irritation. The ring was all you talked about these weeks, aside from occasional work problems and drunken confessions you weren't afraid to make to him.

"Then sell it."

"But I don't want to sell it."

"Then what do you want to do? I keep giving you suggestions, and you keep shooting me down," he complained with a helpless whine.

"I want you to tell me what to do!" you exclaimed.

"I say sell it," he said.

"I don't want to sell it."

"I'm hanging up. I can't take this abuse anymore," Chan threatened with a yell of frustration. You could imagine him leaning against his chair and pushing it away from his desk, his eyes squinted into moon-shaped smiles, and his nose scrunched up in defeat.

"It's just... this stupid ring is giving me weird vibes!" You stopped before the road and glanced down at the ring. "I feel sad but also happy when I look at it! Like some sort of deja vu!"

"It's deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while," he said. "Maybe it's not as serious as you think it is."

You frowned. Chan was no help at all. From your peripheral vision, you could see that people had started to cross the street, so you followed suit quickly, intending to not block the road and be yelled at by some caffeine-deprived stranger who hadn't gotten a lick of sleep yet.

"Woah! Hey! Watch the road!"

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears.

A stranger reached their hand out to grab a fistful of your shirt so they could yank you back to safety. The pull was strong and panicky, like back when you were younger, how your mother would smack you after you did something wrong, but much harder than that. Your gaze wobbled when your head hit a slight whiplash at the force, the sky welcoming your view. Tears unnaturally welled in your eyes as your hands waited for the impact of the ground.

"No," you whispered, the blur of a car crash disappearing from your memories. "Minho–"

Minho? Again? Hold on. Let me rewind again.

"Woah! Hey! Watch the road!"

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before the sight of incoming cars made you freeze.

A stranger reached their hand out to—

No, [Name]! Wrong! Nothing happens to you! How did you manage to get yourself stuck in a near-death situation twice in a row? What is this, some kind of manifestation theory? Don't joke around. Let me rewind!

"Woah! Hey! Watch the road!"

You jumped out of the way with a scream, missing the car by a few inches. It scraped past you, causing your body to fall back. Instead of catching yourself in the slow fall, you let your body flail about in the air as more cars slowly closed the distance between themselves and you. Pedestrians standing on the road couldn't do anything out of sheer intimidation, born from the cars speeding toward you. You looked toward where the honking came from.

I can't keep doing this. It's your muscle memory, isn't it? Damn biology. I really–let me rewind.

"It's deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while. Maybe it's not as serious as you think it is," Chan said. "Look, you've been thinking about this too much. How about we go get a drink tonight?

"I don't know, Chan," you muttered with a sigh. "I've been feeling really depressed lately."

"I'm surprised you don't think I can tell," he said. "How about this–I'll buy some drinks, and we'll hang out at yours. Beats heading outside, right?"

You closed your eyes. That could work. One of the biggest reasons the outside was so unappealing was that you had to step foot into it. Even now, with the sun shining down on your head, you're quickening your pace so you can go home. If Chan was willing to go through the trouble of paying for drinks and hauling them to your apartment, you've got no complaints. It might be an excellent way to forget about this whole deja vu situation, too.

"Deal," you confirmed with a soft smile. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

Chan giggled from the other side, but he didn't say anything.

Wait, why didn't he say anything?

"Woah! Hey! Watch the road!"

What? What happened? Why is this sequence repeating itself? I scratched that off the document!

You snapped your head up from looking at the ground. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you—stop! Pause! Pause!—Should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road entirely, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears—why are you trying to kill yourself? Can't you just let me continue with this, [Name]?

You could see the cars coming, but your feet wouldn't move. Your eyes stared through the danger into a beacon laid far away, the illusion of a man's face you should have forgotten. His name echoed silently through your mind, but his warmth remained on your body, in the shape of your arms and the weight on your finger.

I cannot... I do not have the power to erase what your body—your heart—chooses to remember, only that of your mind. If your first instinct is to go home and return to Lee Minho, I'm afraid I have no power to stop you besides rewinding time and hoping for a change.

Let me... let me rewind.

May you two have a joyous reunion... and... thank you for this lesson.

"Woah! Hey! Watch the road!"

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears. Scared, your knees gave away, and you fell backward.

The screams of others and the urgent car honks were blocked out from your ears. You turned your head to the side and saw a truck running down the road towards you. This one would kill you, you would close your eyes, and you would leave this place. Your lips quirked uncontrollably.

You would go back to him.