I think I've officially lost my mind.

There is no other explanation.

Because tell me why I find one grumpy old man so ridiculously cute.

Okay. He's not actually old. Just six years older than me. But calling him 'old man' is fun, especially because he always gives me that look afterward. You know the one. That offended, annoyed expression that somehow makes me want to tease him even more.

And recently, I've discovered something.

He's jealous.

Every time I jokingly flirt with my female friends, his face changes.

It's adorable.

I know I should stop provoking him.

Instead, I do it more.

In fact, I took a video of one of those expressions.

Attached for future scientific research.

Exhibit A: The Old Man Being Upset. (https://www.tiktok.com/@pspxxsxx/video/7619186798782156039?_r=1&_t=ZS-96xEKnn1ehY)

I swear, every time I look at it, I start laughing.

The worst part is that he probably not jealous and I'm just imagining things because I like him.

...

No.

Let's delete that sentence.

Anyway.

Today my friend said that people with dimples are anomalies.

And since I have dimples, I decided to be dramatic about it.

So I asked him, "Would you still accept me even with this defect?"

I expected him to roll his eyes.

Instead, he looked at me and said, "However you are, I will. Don't say that."

DIARY.

What was I supposed to do with that?

I think my soul left my body.

I could feel my face heating up.

I hope he didn't notice.

Because if he did, I might have to disappear forever.

And lately I've realized something else.

Something very concerning.

I don't like it when people flirt with him.

There.

I said it.

I don't know when it started and why.

But whenever someone gets a little too friendly, I start feeling weird.

Not angry.

Just...

Possessive.

Nope.

Actually, let's cross that word out.

Definitely not possessive.

I'm just a concerned citizen who doesn't want people to get annoyed too.

Normal behavior.

Anyway, I'm ending today's entry before I expose myself any further.

The old man is troublesome.

And the fact that I keep smiling whenever I think about him is the most troublesome thing of all.

Good night.

P.S. If anyone ever reads this, please burn it immediately.

Today was a disaster.

A tragedy.

A public humiliation.

Possibly the worst day of my life.

I am currently suffering.

You remember how I used to tease the old man by flirting with my friends?

Well.

Apparently he decided revenge was necessary.

And now I regret every life choice that brought me here.

Today he started flirting with his friend.

Right in front of me.

RIGHT.

IN.

FRONT.

OF.

ME.

The audacity.

The disrespect.

I stared at him in complete disbelief while he looked too pleased with himself.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, he admitted that he wanted to try flirting with other people.

For an experiment.

When I asked what kind of experiment, do you know what this old man said?

He wanted to see my reaction.

Because apparently my jealous reactions are 'cute.'

Diary.

Please tell me how that is fair.

I hate him.

I hate him so much that I spent the next hour thinking about him.

Which unfortunately weakens my argument.

And can we talk about Sunghoon for a second?

Actually, no.

Let's talk about me.

Diary, I need you to be honest.

I'm way cuter than Sunghoon, right?

RIGHT?

Because if that old man keeps looking so entertained around him, I might lose my mind.

I am asking you, as my trusted confidant, to agree with me.

I am cuter.

More adorable.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Anyway.

Things somehow got even worse.

Because after enduring this torture all day, I finally snapped.

Bluntly.

I looked at him and told him, "Gege is Ahn Yujin's."

...

WHY DID I SAY THAT?

WHO GAVE ME PERMISSION?

I don't even remember thinking before the words came out.

They just escaped.

Like prisoners breaking out of jail.

And the worst part?

I STILL DON'T HAVE AN ANSWER.

What if he thinks I'm weird?

What if I scared him?

What if...

I refuse to continue this thought process because I can feel myself aging.

I need him to know I like him.

But I also need him to not know.

Do you see my problem?

Because I certainly do.

And then.

AS IF THE UNIVERSE HADN'T SUFFERED ENOUGH.

Muran found this diary.

THE DIARY YOU ARE CURRENTLY READING.

THE CONFESSIONS.

HE FOUND IT.

I genuinely considered throwing myself into the nearest body of water.

The embarrassment was so severe that future generations probably felt it.

Muran, if you're reading this right now:

Hello.

Please stop.

Close the diary.

Put it down.

I am begging.

No, I am threatening.

If you tell him anything written in here, I will never recover.

Do you understand?

I already have to live with the knowledge that I called him cute approximately eight hundred times.

I already have to live with whatever THIS entry is.

Please don't make it worse.

And if you somehow already told him...

I am moving to another country.

Changing my name.

Nobody will ever hear from me again.

P.S. Old man, if you somehow end up reading this too, please ignore everything above. Especially the part where I said you're mine. Actually, ignore this entire diary.

I need a refund.

For my feelings.

For whatever cosmic force convinced me that confessing to someone would make things LESS stressful.

Because apparently that's not how this works.

The old man is still playing his stupid little game.

And I am suffering.

Today I decided to be brave.

Well.

More like desperate.

Since he still hasn't given me a proper answer after the whole ‘gege is mine’ incident, I thought maybe I should make things a little clearer.

So I gave him a clue of what I want.

One letter.

‘Y.’

Simple.

Practically foolproof.

I mean, come on.

What answer could possibly start with Y?

The answer is obviously ‘you.’

HIM.

THE OLD MAN.

THE CAUSE OF MY SUFFERING.

The answer was right there.

And do you know what he said?

‘Yuddaeng.’

My nickname.

Diary, I stared at him so hard I almost developed a headache.

I protested.

Because what kind of answer is that?

And then he had the audacity to tell me he was joking.

Sure.

Of course.

I believe that.

Not.

Because here's the thing.

I don't think he was joking.

I think he doesn't know that's my nickname.

And somehow that possibility is even worse.

Imagine trying to confess your feelings and receiving your own nickname as an answer.

I can't live like this.

I deserve compensation.

Anything.

But then.

The disaster escalated.

Because the universe looked at me and said, ‘You know what would be funny?’

And the answer was yes.

It would be funny.

For everyone except me.

Somehow, in the middle of our conversation, I ended up admitting something.

Something I intended to keep locked away forever.

I told him why I flirt with my friends.

The answer wasn't because I like them.

The answer was because it's easy.

That's it.

I can joke around with them.

I can flirt for fun.

No overthinking.

No heart trying to escape through my ribs.

But him?

That's different.

Every single thing becomes difficult.

Every conversation.

Every word.

I overthink everything.

If he takes too long to answer, I wonder if I said something wrong.

If he teases me, I become flustered.

If he compliments me, I forget how to function.

And somehow…

I ended up telling him that.

I told him that I've never liked someone this much before.

...

WHY WOULD I SAY THAT?

So now he knows.

Because I don't think I could make it any more obvious without printing a giant banner that says: "HELLO. I LIKE YOU. PLEASE CONNECT THE DOTS."

And do you know what happened after my embarrassingly honest confession?

Nothing.

NO ANSWER.

NO RESULTS.

MY APPLICATION IS STILL PENDING.

Diary, I am currently living in a state of emotional limbo.

Every time I see his name, I have to mentally prepare myself.

I don't know if he's processing.

I don't know if he's laughing.

What I DO know is that I revealed way too much information.

At this point, I've handed him my entire heart and included a user manual.

And now I'm sitting here waiting.

Like a fool.

Actually, forget moving to another country.

I need to move to another planet.

Preferably one where nobody knows what I said.

One where old men don't play games.

Until then, I'll be here.

Suffering.

Good night.

P.S. Old man, if you're reading this, please respond. I am begging. My anxiety can only take so much.

P.P.S. If your answer is ‘Yuddaeng’ again, I am blocking you.

First of all.

A big thank you to Moka.

If Moka wasn't here to witness my descent into romantic insanity, I think I would've evaporated into thin air by now.

It's not that I don't want to tell my members.

But.

I am the leader.

I have an image to maintain.

A reputation.

A certain aura of reliability.

...

Please ignore the fact that my members have already witnessed my crazy moments that UNRELATED to that man.

That is not the point.

THE POINT IS.

Leaders are supposed to be cool.

Dependable.

Not writing diary entries about how a handsome old man looked at them with a smug face and caused them to malfunction.

Anyway.

Moka reminded me of something important today.

At least nobody printed my diary on Dispatch.

...

Yet.

Because if Dispatch ever gets their hands on this diary?

It's over.

Done.

The end.

I will march into their office and explode.

Because imagine the headlines.

'IVE'S YUJIN SECRETLY PINES AFTER CHINA'S TOP NOTCH ACTOR.'

No.

I would never recover.

And Moka.

Looked me in the eyes and said she didn't think there was anything more surprising than IVE's leader and China's prince.

Prince.

As if I wasn't already suffering enough.

Do I acknowledge that the old man is ridiculously handsome?

Yes.

Do I have to be reminded that he is prince-level handsome?

Absolutely not.

Also.

Can we discuss why everyone acts like being IVE's leader isn't a big deal?

Diary.

Please tell me I'm not delusional.

Being IVE's leader is practically equivalent to being Korea's princess.

Thank you.

I refuse to accept criticism.

Now.

Moka suggested that maybe I should distract him.

You know.

So he'd forget about my confession.

Which sounds reasonable in theory.

Until I started brainstorming.

Should I pretend to get possessed?

"Forgive me, old man. The spirit possessing me confessed."

No.

He already thinks I'm strange.

Actually.

He probably thinks I'm cute.

No.

We're not feeding my delusions.

But seriously.

Wouldn't pretending to be possessed make him think I'm a weirdo?

Because I don't think there's a recovery plan for that.

Then again.

Is there even a recovery plan for saying, 'I've never liked someone this much before'?

I don't think so.

Speaking of which.

HE FINALLY ANSWERED.

Kind of.

Instead of rejecting me.

Or accepting me.

The old man watched me with obvious amusement.

Which is rude.

Then he basically asked if I genuinely liked him.

As if I haven't spent the last days embarrassing myself.

And then.

This evil old man.

Somehow managed to look unbearably pleased with himself.

He admitted that teasing me only seemed to make me suffer.

THANK YOU FOR THE OBSERVATION.

Diary.

He had a smug expression.

The kind I simultaneously adore and want to fight.

How is that fair?

I bet he's received countless confessions before.

How could he not?

He worked with beautiful women.

Women who are elegant.

The kind who make flowers look plain.

Meanwhile.

I hide behind my hands and headbutt his shoulder because my brain stops functioning.

Objectively speaking, I should sympathize with myself.

But.

Diary.

I'm pretty too, right?

Please answer.

Because my self-esteem is hanging by a thread.

P.P.P.S. 你好。月亮是谁？

(Hello. Who is the moon?)

My own reaction was humiliating.

And if he ever finds this diary?

Should I lie?

Should I insist this was written by delusional fans?

But then.

Please tell me.

WHO.

Who is delusional enough to write several entries about China's prince and IVE's leader?

Certainly not me hehe.

Anyway.

THE OLD MAN CHANGED HIS STATUS.

月亮不会奔向我，但我会一直望着月亮。

I immediately ran to Google Translate.

"The moon won't come to me, but I will keep looking at the moon."

...

WHO IS THE MOON?

WHICH PRETTY JIEJIE?

IS THERE ANOTHER GIRL?

AM I SUPPOSED TO FIGHT THE MOON NOW?

Maybe it's a poem.

Maybe I'm overthinking.

Actually.

There's no maybe.

I AM overthinking.

But can anyone blame me?

Good night.

I experienced all five stages of grief today.

Multiple times.

The day actually started beautifully.

The old man said, "You look pretty."

...

I KNOW.

I am aware that I am supposed to act cool about compliments by now.

I'm an idol.

People call me pretty all the time.

I have fans who would write dissertations about my beauty.

But somehow hearing it from him felt different.

It wasn't "You're beautiful because you're on stage."

It was just... "You look pretty."

And for a moment...

Life was good.

Then Mingi papa showed up and escorted me to hell.

Papa asked the old man, "So what are your intentions with my daughter?"

Diary.

I stopped breathing.

This was it.

The moment.

The verdict.

And then.

The old man HESITATED.

Before finally saying, "We're friends."

Friends.

Friends.

I think I heard my heart crack like a glow stick.

Suddenly, I became that meme.

The one where people compare themselves to their crush's exes and wonder what they're lacking.

Because immediately my brain went, "Of course."

And so, I committed emotional self-harm.

I looked up pictures of his co-stars.

Attached below:

Beautiful.

Looks like she descended from heaven.

Gorgeous.

Probably smells like expensive flowers.

Stunning.

The type of woman who could ruin lives by smiling.

And then there was me.

Sitting on my bed.

Pouting.

...

Actually.

Hold on.

I am pretty too.

At least my fans tell me so.

And fans never lie.

RIGHT?

Besides.

I have dimples.

I have talent.

Thank you very much.

Anyway.

Papa wasn't finished.

He looked at him again and asked, "So your intention is to hurt her? Because clearly she doesn't see you as a friend."

DIARY.

SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE ME.

And do you know what the old man said?

"Don't worry. I'll give her my best explanation."

Excuse me?

What explanation?

WHY DOES EVERYONE EXCEPT ME KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON?

At this point, I had two choices.

Option A: Collapse.

Option B: Protect my remaining dignity.

So I laughed awkwardly and said, "Yes, we're just friends." Then added, "I need to focus on my career first."

I deserve an award for that performance.

Someone give me an Oscar.

Because internally?

I was screaming.

BUT THEN.

THE EVIL OLD MAN KEPT TEASING ME.

I mentioned needing a distraction.

And he had the audacity to say, "You can use my face as your distraction, Yuddaeng."

THE AUDACITY.

The shamelessness.

And the worst part?

IT WORKED.

Because now every time I need a distraction, I remember his stupid handsome face.

He also mentioned that he likes it when his woman goes feral.

Especially when she's flustered.

THEN.

HE FORGOT.

HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A WOMAN YET.

Diary.

If only he knew the absolute insanity documented in these pages.

The feral behavior.

The emotional breakdowns.

No.

Let's keep that information classified.

For national security reasons.

At least it was reassuring to know that he doesn't have a woman.

Yet.

Keyword: YET.

WHICH BRINGS US BACK TO THE MOON.

I STILL HAVEN'T FORGIVEN THE MOON.

Fortunately.

I wasn't alone.

Thank you, Gawon.

Thank you, Liz.

Please continue supporting me through these trying times.

Apparently.

He apologized.

He said he didn't mean to hurt me.

That the 'friends' comment wasn't meant that way.

That he knows how I feel.

And...

He asked me to wait.

Until he figures things out.

He promised it wouldn't take long.

...

Diary.

Do you understand how unfair that is?

How am I supposed to be normal after hearing that?

Do you know what my response was?

Of course you do.

Because I lose all common sense around this man.

I puffed up my cheeks.

Reminded him that plenty of people like me.

That he's not my only option.

That he's not some once-in-a-lifetime miracle.

Demanded he forget my previous confession.

Claimed it didn't count.

Then.

At bullet train speed.

I admitted I'd still wait for him.

And threatened to punch him harder if he returned with another stupid answer.

...

Sabrina Carpenter's Nonsense started playing anyway.

I have never felt more attacked by a playlist.

Because what was that?

What was I saying?

What kind of contradictory NONSENSE was that?

"I don't like you that much!"

"But I'll wait for you."

"Forget what I said!"

"It didn't count!"

"I choose you anyway."

Embarrassing.

I should be banned from speaking.

And then.

As if the universe wasn't finished with me.

THE OLD MAN UPDATED HIS STATUS AGAIN.

你的笑容很甜，而酒窝是最致命的部分。

Google Translate says: Your smile is sweet, and your dimples are the most irresistible feature.

...

Diary.

The status is about me.

I don't care what anyone says.

I don't care if anyone calls me delusional.

I HAVE DIMPLES.

HE LIKES MY DIMPLES.

CASE CLOSED.

THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER DISCUSSION.

Good night.

P.S. Old man, if you're reading this, your explanation better be worth all this emotional damage.

P.P.S. Thank you for noticing my dimples.

P.P.P.S. If that status somehow isn't about me... Please don't tell me. I'd rather live in delusion.

Before we begin today's entry, I would like to drop two songs.

Not for promotional purposes.

Please don't misunderstand.

I repeat: This is NOT promotion.

Please sit down.

Because I have a story to tell.

Hold my hand first.

I don't think I can survive reliving this alone.

The old man called me cute again.

As if he wasn't aware of the effect those words had on me.

So, because I am a mature adult who handles emotions with grace, I replied, "Of course this FRIEND of yours is cute."

Yes.

Emphasizing the 'friend' part.

Because I still haven't recovered from the whole 'we're friends' incident.

And then.

He replied.

"You mean my girlFRIEND."

...

Diary.

I stared into blank space.

I think my brain shut down.

GIRLFRIEND?

I THOUGHT...

HE ALREADY HAD A GIRLFRIEND.

I was ready to start grieving.

I could already see myself gazing out the car window while pretending rain was falling outside.

Meanwhile, he looked at me and said, "I thought you already could guess it, but it seems like you didn't catch it?"

OF COURSE I DIDN'T CATCH IT.

MY BRAIN IS SLOW.

ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO YOU.

I CAN'T EVEN SOLVE A SIMPLE WORDPLAY WHEN YOU'RE INVOLVED.

Then.

Diary.

Even if a bomb had dropped beside me, I don't think it could've shocked me more than what happened next.

He said: "Sorry that I've kept you waiting. I'm holding on my promise now. I know I've been busy these days, and it made me realize how much I missed you. As much as... Umm. To be honest, I'm not good with my words. I have plenty of flaws, so I'm not sure how you're going to take that once you find out. But if you're willing, I'd want you to be more than a friend. Ummm... How do I say this... 我的月亮，我喜欢你。"

...

Diary.

YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.

I WENT FERAL.

COMPLETELY.

UNAPOLOGETICALLY.

I screamed.

I ran.

I jumped around.

I don't even remember the order.

I think I blacked out halfway through.

I sincerely hope he won't back out after witnessing whatever that was.

Because yes.

I had been waiting for this day.

I dreamed about this day.

BUT KNOWING IT MIGHT HAPPEN DOESN'T PREPARE YOU FOR WHEN IT ACTUALLY DOES.

I couldn't function.

I still can't function.

AHN YUJIN.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING.

PLEASE RESTART THE SYSTEM.

After I recovered to speak in complete sentences again, I ended up talking to Papa.

I told him, "It's embarrassing, but I don't think I've ever liked someone this much before."

And it's true.

I don't know how to explain it.

How do you describe a feeling that suddenly makes every love song about one person?

You hear a lyric and immediately think of them.

You hear a joke and wish you could tell them first.

And when I thought he didn't like me back?

Every breakup song became unbearable too.

Or rather...

I don't know how to describe it.

I just know...

I like him.

Very.

Very.

Very.

Very much.

Yes.

I know.

I'm rambling nonsense again.

Speaking of songs.

All this time, I never imagined I'd dedicate songs like that to someone.

Whenever I sang cheesy lyrics before, I always thought, "That's kind of cringe."

Unless it was for fans.

Because I really do love my fans very much.

But now?

Now that I've been struck by whatever lovesick disease this is?

The lyrics don't feel cringe anymore.

I understand them.

I understand why people replay them over and over again.

Because when you're in love...

Those lyrics stop sounding exaggerated.

They become truthful.

And so.

Mine.

OTT.

Repeat.

Mine.

OTT.

Repeat.

Because I like the old man very much.

And I don't think words are enough to describe how happy I am that he's finally...

No.

Wait.

I need to write this properly.

Because it's important.

The old man is mine.

And I am his.

(Please excuse me while I scream into my pillow again)

And then.

As if my heart hadn't suffered enough today.

The old man updated his status again.

月亮是隐喻，所有的本体都是你。

"The moon is a metaphor; every true form behind it is you."

...

DIARY.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS MEANS?

THE MOON.

THE MOON I WAS FIGHTING.

THE MOON I WAS JEALOUS OF.

THE MOON I SUSPECTED OF BEING SOME BEAUTIFUL JIEJIE.

WAS ME.

IT WAS ME.

I FOUGHT MYSELF.

I DECLARE MYSELF THE LOSER OF THE MOON WAR.

In hindsight, maybe learning Chinese out of jealousy wasn't the worst decision I've ever made.

...

Take a moment.

I need another one too.

AHN YUJIN HAS A BOYFRIEND.

And not just any boyfriend.

THE old man.

HER old man.

The same old man who made her cry over the word 'friends.'

The same old man who drove her insane with moon statuses.

The same old man who called her cute.

The same old man who noticed her dimples.

I think...

I think I can finally sleep peacefully tonight.

Or maybe not.

Because I have a feeling I'll spend the entire night replaying today's moments over and over again.

His confession.

His 'my moon.'

His smile.

Everything.

Good night.

P.S. Dear Dispatch, if you're reading this, please respect my privacy.

P.P.S. Haeun, thank you for surviving this journey with me.

P.P.P.S. Old man... Thank you for coming back to me.

P.P.P.P.S. Take note. Again. For legal reasons and because I deserve to be annoying about it: This old man is Ahn Yujin's only.

Go ahead.

Admire his prince-level handsome face all you want.

Today, I am feeling generous.

You may zoom in.

You may even acknowledge that the universe was biased while creating this man.

I don't care.

Because...

HE'S ALREADY MINE.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

...

Sorry.

I got carried away.

But can you blame me?

Do you know how long I suffered?

How many times I embarrassed myself?

How many times I declared emotional bankruptcy?

I EARNED THIS.

So yes.

Please admire the picture.

I certainly did.

In fact, I think I spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at it while giggling to myself.

He really is handsome.

The type of handsome that could make people misunderstand my motives when I insist I only fell for his personality.

(Which is true)

(But also, have you seen his face?)

Anyway.

As I was basking in my newfound happiness and exercising my newly acquired bragging rights, I remembered something the old man once said.

He said:

"Umm 🤔 I'm not sure, as long as she's not getting sick because of raging/jealousy, it would be nice, I think. After all, she doesn't need to worry because I am a loyal man myself."

...

Diary.

Please keep remind me of this.

To future me, who might reread these entries and cringe so hard she considers setting this diary on fire: Please remember this. The old man chose you. The old man with the ability to make your brain malfunction... Chose you. Not because you were the prettiest in the room. But because you were you.

...

Actually.

No wonder he fell for me.

I'm adorable.

Good night (again).

P.S. Please continue admiring the attached picture.

P.P.S. Looking is free. Touching is prohibited.

P.P.P.S. Once again, for the people in the back: HE'S ALREADY MINE. ♡