“Stop it, Irene. Just stop. He doesn’t like you.” That would be insane. But what’s even more insane, is the fact that it upsets me that I know he doesn’t.

Thankfully, I find an attached bathroom the size of my entire apartment. Instantly, I strip down and climb into the shower. I use at least half the bottle of body wash cleaning myself, then crouch down beneath the falling water. I know I’m technically clean, but I still feel filthy. Like I’ll never be able to fully get Gunsyn off of me.

Or out of me.

I use my fingers to try and draw out whatever might be left of...