UNNIDEUL

day seven: Soggy Cereal

unnimod — Fri, 30 Sep 2016 18:53:11 GMT

Title: Soggy Cereal
Recipient: 921227
Fandom/Pairing: Ailee & Amber (f(x))
Rating: PG
Warnings: mild swearing
Summary: "Hey!" Amber shouts. "There's someone riding our exhaust wake!"
Author's notes: To the recipient, you had a list of aus you liked and mentioned liking all types of relationships, as well as being okay with crossovers, so I hope this is something you can enjoy.

Amber has just sat down to breakfast, the perfect proportion of milk to Cheerios in her bowl, cereal only slightly moistened and definitely not soggy, when the ship klaxon begins to sound.

"Dammit," she mutters under her breath, losing grasp of the spoon as it slips from her fingers and falls into the bowl, sending up a splash of milk to dot her shirt. The ship intercom crackles on, and she winces at the static feedback.

I have to remember to fix that, she thinks, making a mental note that will inevitably be forgotten in the next half an hour anyway. With any luck, it'll only be a minor issue, but as she tries to wipe the drops of milk off of her shirt with her hand, she doubts today will be that easy.

Not an amber alert today, Ailee's voice crackles over the speakers, but Amber is already heading for the bridge.

"That's not funny," she mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time. Ailee's voice breaks up into metallic laughter.

"Shut up."

"So what do we have?" she asks, the door sliding shut behind her. Ailee is standing in front of the controls, her concentration locked on the scanner.

"There's nothing on the scanner," she says, not bothering to turn around, "but the proximity sensors are registering a . . . something." She sounds frustrated.

"What's a something?" Amber asks, stepping up to peer at the screens. The readings on the proximity sensors are all haywire, but the scanner is completely clear, no blips anywhere.

"Maybe it's a ghost," she jokes, and Ailee snorts, elbowing Amber in the ribs.

"This isn't the Outer Shell," she retorts. "Come on, we're missing something." She keys in a few strokes and checks the dust collector reports.

They both spot it at the same time.

"Hey!" Amber shouts, her voice blending with Ailee's similar sound of protest. "There's someone riding our exhaust wake!"

Amber skims through her short list of possible candidates; they're a short haul courier so it wouldn't be smugglers or anything like that—

"Got it," Ailee says, snapping her fingers even as her eyes narrow. Amber shoots her a quizzical glance, but she just reaches for the ship to ship relay.

"This is the LWSS Hermia for the jackass who's riding our dust wake. Don't even bother trying to zap out, Eric, I know it's you."

There's a pause, and Amber tries not to laugh at the expression to complete exasperation on Ailee's face, but it's a battle that was doomed from the start. Eric's sheepish reply over the ship to ship relay can barely be heard over the uproar.

Ailee has her arms crossed over her chest, sitting back in the captain's chair on the bridge as Amber watches the the SLWSS Avius blip into view on the scanner, electronics humming an undertone as they coordinate docking. Ailee's still frowning at the door when a very embarrassed Eric slink through the sliding doors, his arms full of a gift-wrapped box.

"Mm-hmm," is all Ailee says. Amber wishes she'd thought to bring a bag of popcorn from the mess.

"So, umm, your mom wanted me to deliver this on your birthday but—"

"You messed up and got caught early," Ailee finishes the sentence, eyeing the gift box distastefully. "What on earth did she send me this year?"

The box gives an ominous rattle, and Eric glances down, uneasily. "I don't know, but I don't want it," he says, extending his arms slightly forward to hold the box further from his chest.

"I'll pay you double her price to take it somewhere else," Ailee says quickly. Eric sighs.

"Fine," he says, "and you owe me for not warning me about her."

"Hey," Ailee says, offended now, even though she's still side-eyeing the gift. "My mom is great!"

"Calm down," Eric is quick to clarify, "I just don't ever want to deliver something for her ever again." He shuffles his boots, leaving a trace of soil matter on the plascrete floor that will probably wreak havoc with the cleaning bots.

"Well, she is a xeno-biologist," Amber says, adding her two-cents' worth. Ailee nods, as the box gives a particularly alarming shake.

"This has been very entertaining," Amber continues, "but I think Eric should get that menacing object out of here as soon as possible, and I have a bowl of cereal waiting for me in the mess that's probably not improving with age."

Eric leaves with a wave, Ailee waves back and then turns to Amber. "Cereal? Seriously?"

"The state of my cereal is very serious," Amber says in a high-pitched Venusian accent, and heads for the mess, waving off Ailee's laughter. "Don't call me unless it's an emergency."

"I won't dare disturb your cereal ritual in the future," Ailee's voice is muffled by the door sliding shut, "not even if we're attacked by rabid camelidroids."

Amber's bowl is an unrecognizable mash of soggy Cheerios, and she has to end up feeding it to the vegetarian flytrap they use for kitchen waste. When she goes to the pantry, the only box of cereal left is Weetabix, so she ends up having toast instead.

When the ship klaxon starts sounding again, red lights flashing, she gives up and just grabs a yoghourt on her way out the door.

unnideul 2016 masterlist

unnimod — Fri, 30 Sep 2016 18:37:35 GMT

After many delays (many, many delays), we wrap up our summer fic exchange! Thanks everyone who participated and thanks to hoshatree for pinch hitting!

Kiss, Kiss, Kiss for downcastqueen written by g_odalisque13 | Oh My Girl, Arin/Binnie, Arin/Everyone, PG
Arin hasn’t had her first kiss yet, but the other girls in her cabin at summer camp are determined to remedy that.

Love at First Nom for bluedreaming written by x_disturbed_x | Twice, Momo/Mina, G
Momo and Mina fall in love at a dance academy.

Pieces of Your Heart for x_disturbed_x written by tide_ms | Mamamoo, Solar/Moonbyul, PG-13
Yongsun and Byulyi fall into an adventure.

Communications 101 for staygame written by downcastqueen | Oh My Girl, G
Seunghee loses her voice and comes up with different methods of communication. It doesn’t work very well and luckily, her members are there to help. Or not.

The Babysitter for g_odalisque13 written by hoshatree | APink, Chorong/Eunji, G
Chorong had always felt something uncomfortable about Eunji.

the sun comes out for you for tide_ms written by staygame | Oh My Girl, Jiho/Yooa, PG-13
There's a lot that sucks about being an idol, but Jiho's feelings might be the worst part. (Or, four times Jiho looks out for Shiah without her noticing, and one time Shiah looks out for her.)

Soggy Cereal for 921227 written by bluedreaming | Ailee/Amber (fx), PG
"Hey!" Amber shouts. "There's someone riding our exhaust wake!"

Please be sure to comment on any fics you enjoyed! ♥

day 6: the sun comes out for you, for tide_ms

unnimod — Mon, 26 Sep 2016 05:09:31 GMT

Title: the sun comes out for you
Recipient: tide_ms
Fandom/Pairing: Oh My Girl, Jiho/Yooa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There's a lot that sucks about being an idol, but Jiho's feelings might be the worst part. (Or, four times Jiho looks out for Shiah without her noticing, and one time Shiah looks out for her.)
Notes: I am really sorry for holding up everything, my life has sort of fallen to pieces that I had to sweep up and put back together several times over the last month but I hope this is sort of worth the wait? You had some really great prompts but this one stuck out to me.

Jiho is never sure what's the worst part of being a trainee—watching her friends go (sometimes to other companies, sometimes reaching the end of a failed dream) or watching new girls filter in and knowing that any one of them could stand in the way of her own dream. The first time Jiho sees Yoo Shiah, she should be thinking, competition.

Instead, Jiho stares, until Hyejin has to nudge her forward to introduce herself.

Even in a room full of pretty girls, Shiah stands out. She looks like a princess out of a Disney animated movie, with big eyes, soft lips, and a small face. "Please take care of me!" Shiah says, bowing a full 90 degrees. Her voice is just as dainty as her expression.

Shiah, with just a few stretches to warm up, joins them for the rest of their dance practice, and it becomes clear that she's not just a visual. She's a strong dancer, a certain combination of power and grace to her moves that already surpasses what Jiho has been able to teach herself two years. "My brother is a choreographer," she explains at the end of the song, breathless. She may be the new girl but she's not shy. There's no hesitation when their teacher invites her to freestyle.

She dances, ponytail whipping around her back as she goes. At least Jiho's not the only one staring now. Miyoung somehow manages to look both threatened and predatory, like she's finally met her match. Jiho wonders if she should be feeling the same way.

But there's nothing threatening about the way Shiah hooks an arm through hers on their walk home after practice. There's nothing in Shiah's inherent sweetness that tells Jiho to put her guard up, and it doesn't take long for Jiho to fall in headfirst.

1.)
Jiho's days are long and arduous. She wakes up, gets ready for school while tiptoeing around sleeping girls, and then when school is over it's straight to the company for practice. Vocal lessons, PR coaching, hours spent staring into a mirror working on expressions, and then, of course, the dancing. Jiho could do probably do the choreography for Oh! in her sleep at this point, finds herself absentmindedly flipping her hair while she waits for the subway train.

At the end of one of these practices, Jiho's feet ache and she's sweating in places she didn't realize could even sweat, like the backs of her knees. Yewon slumps over her, draping her entire body weight against Jiho's back, their sweat sticking together. Jiho can't work up the energy to shove her off. "Put a fork in me," Miyoung groans, sprawled out on the floor. "I'm done. I can't move."

"Let's go home, " Yubin says around a jaw-cracking yawn. Miyoung reaches her hands up and pouts until Yubin finally sighs and helps her up.

They make it to the door, a chorus of shuffling feet, when Jiho notices that someone is missing. Shiah is still in the corner of the room, watching one of the sessions their dance teacher had recorded. "Shiah?" Jiho calls out. "Are you coming?"

"I'm going to stay here for a little while," Shiah says, not looking up from the iPad. Even though she must be as exhausted as the rest of them, her voice is still light and perky.

"Are you sure?" Jihye, one of the older trainees, asks. "Just come home with us."

Shiah pretends to shove them out the door with her hands. "Just another hour. I'll be right behind you, I promise."

Jiho follows the rest of the girls to their lockers. Her school uniform is still lying in an undignified, crumpled mess at the bottom of her locker where she'd left it this afternoon when she changed and she shoves it into her backpack. It's a Friday, she'll wash it before school on Monday anyway. She feels like she could fall asleep standing up at this point, but when she reaches the front of the building, just a few long blocks separating her from her bed, Jiho finds herself hesitating.

She thinks about Shiah in the practice room, working tirelessly all by herself. Thinks about Shiah having to make this trek home alone. "Hey," Jiho says. "I'm going to wait for Shiah, okay?"

"Another one bites the dust," Miyoung sings, while Yoobin says, "Be careful!"

Jiho finds one of the empty smaller practice rooms and settles down at the table, resting her head on her backpack. She fires off a text to Shiah- i'm waiting for you in practice room #3 whenever you're ready to leave ^__^- and lets her eyes slip shut.

Just another hour, Shiah had said.

Jiho wakes up to a crick in her neck and the sound of APink's No No No shrilling in her ear. She squints at the fluorescent glow of her phone's screen—the automatic lights must have shut off on her at some point—unable to make out the caller ID before she accepts the call.

"Hello?"

"Jiho?" It's Hyejin's voice, a little frantic. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the company," Jiho says. Her back cracks when she sit up, her body protesting the sudden movement. "What's wrong?"

"It's after midnight and Shiah just got home and you weren't with her so we were worried," Hyejin says in a rush. She can hear voices in the background, muffled sighs of relief.

"I'm fine, I must have fallen asleep waiting for- "Wait. "Shiah's home?"

"Yeah, she's home. You take a taxi home, okay? I'll pay for it."

"I'll pay for it," Jiho says. "I'll be home soon."

It turns out she'd fallen asleep for almost two hours. Jiho checks her phone in the back of the taxi, closing and reopening her app to confirm that yes, she isn't going nuts, she did text Shiah to tell her that she was waiting for her. She hadn't wanted to bother Shiah, knowing how she liked to tune everything else out when she was dancing.

Everyone is already in bed when she gets home, except Hyejin, waiting in their bedroom with the lamp on. "You scared me," she says as Jiho flops down onto her bottom bunk bed. She should shower now because her sheets will be gross but she's too tired and she wants to sleep off this achey feeling in her chest.

"I texted her and told her I was waiting," Jiho says into her sheets. Her voice comes out muffled, and she's not even sure that Hyejin has heard her until Hyejin finally sighs.

"She's not very observant," Hyejin says. "You tried to do something nice, don't feel bad."

The next day, Shiah corners her in the bathroom. Jiho has a mouthful of toothpaste and she almost chokes when Shiah comes up behind her, wrapping her arms around Jiho's waist. "Are you mad at me?"

Jiho spits into the sink, rinsing her mouth out before she looks up again, catching Shiah's eye in the mirror. "I'm not mad," Jiho says, and it's the truth. She's more disappointed than mad, in a weird way that makes her feel like rocks have settled at the bottom of her stomach.

"I didn't check my phone until I got home," Shiah says. Her lips curve down into a pout. "It was in my bag and I forgot."

"It's not your fault," Jiho says. "Don't worry about it."

Shiah squeezes Jiho tighter, holds her for one, two, three seconds before she lets go. "You're too cute to be mad anyway," Shiah tells her, pep back in her voice.

When Jiho looks up at the mirror again, Shiah is gone.

2.)
By the end of December, the directors have made the final cuts to their team. Some of the girls that Jiho has spent years training with aren't going to debut, and she knows that not all of them will stick around for their next chance to come. Seunghee is added in, the power vocal to round out their 8 member team. Things start to feel a lot more real.

They have their own PR training classes, spending hours going over ideal types, special talents, and the cheery, borderline obnoxious voice they'll be expected to describe their song and concepts in.

Sometimes, at the end of a long day when they're punch drunk on sleep deprivation and Hot6, they make up their own questions for each other.

"Yoobin, if you were on a deserted island and you had to eat one member of our group to survive, who would you cannibalize?" Miyoung asks, just as smooth as any reporter would ask any idol a question.

"That's so gross," Yoobin says, but after a moment she says, "Yewonnie."

"Why me?" Yewon asks, looking faintly horrified.

"Well, lamb skewers are good, so maybe the younger person will taste-"

Yewon shrieks before Yoobin can finish her thought, and Hyejin smacks her hand down on the floor, declaring, "We're moving on!"

At some point, Shiah had dropped her head into Jiho's lap, cheek curving into Jiho's thigh. Every time Shiah laughs, her lips brush against Jiho's skin, and the steady warmth of her breath is distracting. It makes Jiho feel a little nervous, like the feeling she gets before her individual evaluation each week. Something kind of like anticipation.

"Jiho?" When she looks up, Seunghee is giving her an expectant stare.

"Would you rather only be able to shout or only be able to whisper?"

Jiho considers the question for a minute. On her lap Shiah is still. "I would rather only be able to whisper. Because if you're loud all the time you might scare someone away, but if you can only whisper, people who really care will want to come closer to listen to you. I think quiet moments are sometimes more important than the loud ones."

Seunghee looks impressed. "That's a good answer."

"Yo," Shiah says, giggling as she tilts her head back to look up at Jiho. "Your accent. Yo, not yu."

Jiho flicks her across the nose.

They go through another round of interview questions a few days later, with their director, Eunju, critiquing everything down to their inflection.

"Describe your team in one word," Eunju fires at Miyoung.

"Game! Once you fall in, you won't get out," Miyoung says, with as much fake pep as an entire cheerleading squad.

Eunju's brow furrows and Jiho can practically see the fear in Miyoung's eyes, but after a moment Eunju sits back in her chair. "Good answer, but change the wording a little. Make it less like you're telling people what they'll do." She scans the room, gaze falling on Hyojung. "Hyojung, what's your ideal type?"

"Someone who is younger than me," Hyojung says, no hesitation.

"If you're going to name an appearance specific, always follow-up with something personality based. Someone who makes you laugh, someone who is brave- you understand? Shiah, what about your ideal type?"

Shiah is clearly not expecting to be called on next, because her voice cracks when she says, "Someone who is 170 centimeters and someone who-"

She hesitates, but before Eunju can cut in, Jiho whispers, "Honest."

"Someone who is 170 centimeters. Someone who is honest," Shiah says, finishing with a pageant queen smile, as smooth as though she never missed a beat.

Eunju nods. "Good, but next time try it without help."

They go through rapidfire rounds for another few minutes before they're dismissed for lunch. Shiah catches Jiho in the hall, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "I never want to answer another question again," Shiah says. "I'm only responding to statements for the next hour."

Jiho can't help leaning into her, even though they both smell like dried, stale sweat from their earlier dance practice. "What if I asked if you wanted 100,000 won?"

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"I said you're ridiculous," Jiho says with a grin.

3.)
As Jiho makes her way back to her bed, face freshly washed and ready for bed, a hand reaches out from the other bedroom door, yanking her inside.

"Hey, are you trying to rip my arm-" Jiho stops herself. She furrows her eyebrows, sniffing the air. "Is that...chicken?"

Seunghee, who'd been the one to drag her into the room, smiles smugly. "Chicken and pizza."

Their diets aren't as strict as some of the horror stories Jiho has heard from her friends in other companies, but chicken and pizza at practically midnight just a few weeks after debuting is definitely off limits. The smell alone makes Jiho's mouth nearly water. "How?" she asks.

The rest of the girls point to Hyejin. "I have my ways," she says, which Jiho assumes means Hyejin has some kind of superpower, because sneaking this food past their manager is no human task.

"Do. Not. Eat. Loudly," Hyojung says. She looks each of them in the eye with every word. "Don't even talk. We are not getting in trouble for this."

Hyejin pulls out a box of chicken from under one bed while Yoobin set the pizza between them on the floor. Everyone digs in immediately, but Jiho hesitates, looking at the door. "Shiah isn't home yet."

Shiah had been given the opportunity to film a CF with Baro. It was a big deal, the first CF for their group and the first solo activity for Shiah. "Shouldn't we wait for her?" Jiho asks.

"No way," Miyoung says, mouth full. The faces she's making seem to suggest this is the greatest food she's ever consumed. "You snooze you lose."

"But-"

Hyojung passes her a drumstick and shrugs. "I'm sure this won't be the last time we sneak in food, don't worry."

Jiho is not morally upstanding enough to abstain from the food for the sake of Shiah (how long has it been since she's tasted cheese, damn), though she does grab a few pieces of chicken and a slice of pizza to wrap in a napkin. She's not sure how she'll hide it from their manager until Shiah gets back, but she'll figure it out when she gets there.

They're all full, rubbing their stomachs after just a few minutes of scarfing the food down. Jiho is already thinking about the salt making her face bloat in the morning, but indulgence is worth it. "We'll sneak the trash out tomorrow," Seunghee groans, lying flat on the floor. "No one will know."

Jiho and Hyejin make their way to their own bedroom. They're quiet as they pass their manager's door, and Jiho is very conscious of the wad of napkins she is holding at her side, nowhere to hide anything in her pajamas. She waits up for a little while, snapping back to attention every time she starts to doze, waiting for the chime of their door lock to signal Shiah's return.

Nearly an hour passes and Shiah is still not home yet. Jiho looks at the food saved on her nightstand, considers the early time they have to wake up to go to the salon tomorrow, and she gets of bed. Shiah won't be able to eat when she gets home at this hour anyway. If Jiho hides it in the back of the fridge, she'll be able to eat it tomorrow.

She tip toes into the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the light. Their fridge isn't very full, mostly yogurts and fruit and other things that are on their approved diet. Jiho squats down, looking for a spot that will conceal the food until morning. She shifts some bottles of water out of the way and places the chicken and pizza in the furthest corner of the fridge. A bottle of grapefruit juice and some leftovers that could probably stand to be throw out cover up the evidence. Jiho, pleased with herself, starts to stand, and-

"Jiho, what are you doing?"

It's their manager. Jiho's eyes go wide. "Um. I was." She glances at the fridge and her eyes fall on a container of pineapple. "I was hungry and I wanted a piece of pineapple."

She feels absolutely transparent, but he must believe her. "No eating after midnight," he tells her, reaching around her to shut the fridge door. "Go to bed. You don't want to give the makeup artists more work when they have to cover up your dark circles."

"Yes, sorry," Jiho says, and practically runs away.

The next morning, it's Shiah who finds the food herself, before Jiho can even point it out. Jiho is eating her oatmeal, still half-asleep, when she hears Shiah gasp.

"Did you guys have-"

Seunghee makes a cut it out gesture, and Shiah lowers her voice, mouthing the word, "Chicken?"

Hyejin nods enthusiastically and Shiah does a quiet dance of celebration. "You guys are the best," she whispers. "Thank you for saving me some."

Before Jiho can say you're welcome, Seunghee says it for her. "You're welcome, but don't eat it until you know who is out of the dorm."

Shiah turns back to the fridge, still rooting around for whatever she was looking for previously, and Jiho swallows down her it was me. It's okay, Jiho thinks, she did it to make Shiah happy, not to get credit. It's not a big deal.

4.)
There are a few universal milestones for any group that debuts: the first song that cracks the top one hundred, the first music show nomination, the first music show win, and, the stepping stone for any of that, the first show. They get their own show through MBC, six episodes just to themselves.

It's a little more scripted than Jiho would like. She knows that there is nothing in this industry that isn't at least somewhat scripted, but she'd been hoping for something more like Showtime or One Fine Day. Something where they could just play and not these specifically crafted segments. Still, Jiho also knows that beggars cannot be choosers, and that just getting their name out there is half the battle.

They spend two full days just filming the cooking segments. After a full day of rehearsal, Jiho feels no less awkward delivering the cheesy script and the addition of the apron and bonnet the next day don't help.

"I feel like my grandmother," Miyoung complains, pulling at the straps of her apron with a frown.

"A cute grandmother," Shiah tells her. Shiah can actually pull it off, Jiho thinks, but then there's probably nothing that Shiah couldn't pull off.

Jiho gets paired with Yoobin to make pork neck fillets with curry. In their rehearsal yesterday, Binnie had somehow managed to cut into her finger even with a plastic knife. Today, things go a little more smoothly, except for the part where their gigantic cuts of carrots and potatoes barely get cooked through. She can hear the girls making fun of them from across the room, just as Jiho had done when sitting on the sidelines earlier.

"Ya, it'll still taste good!" She calls out, knowing that will most definitely be edited out.

And, okay, it doesn't taste bad but it doesn't taste that great either. Shiah and Hyojung both pull faces at the first bite, but the director tells them to come up with something nice to say anyway. Jiho has to fight to keep her giggles in as Hyojung bullshits something about the combination of meat and onion coming together nicely.

Finally, their part is done, but the shoot drags on another few hours before the staff starts packing up. They haven't officially been dismissed yet, so most of the girls are still lounging around on the chairs, waiting for their manager. Miyoung and Shiah barely seem bothered by the long day, chasing each other around the kitchen counters, Shiah singing, "Come give grandmother a kiss!"

Jiho sees the impending accident before it happens, almost in slow motion. As Shiah comes skipping around the counter, her elbow bumps into the lens of one of the remaining cameras the staff hasn't yet put away. The whole tripod wobbles and Shiah's back is turned away—she doesn't even notice. Jiho jumps out of her seat, but it's too late. The tripod tips over and the camera crashes to the ground.

The whole room goes silent, except for Hyojung's gasp. The camera crew, previously preoccupied, are all watching now. Shiah and Miyoung stand completely still as one of the camera crew rushes over, their manager right behind her.

"Which one of you did this?" their manager demands.

Shiah and Miyoung exchange a look. Shiah is about to speak up, sucking in a breath of air as her lips part, but Jiho cuts in without hesitating. "It was me," she says. "I was chasing with Miyoung unnie and I ran into the camera. I was the one chasing, it wasn't her fault." She turns to the camera operator, giving her a full 90-degree bow. "I apologize for messing up your equipment. I was being careless."

Her admission of guilt might be fake, but Jiho's sincerity isn't, and the camera operator looks almost sympathetic when she looks up at Jiho. "It's fine, the camera," she says. "There's a scratch on the lens but thankfully it's all in one piece."

"We'll pay for it," their manager assures her. Then, to rest of the group, "You can all go get cleaned up now. I want to have a word with Jiho."

Jiho stares down at the floor as the other girls file out. She doesn't know what's more unbelievable, that Shiah could cause a potentially blacklist worthy accident or that Jiho took credit for it herself. "I'm really sorry," she says to the manager, voice quiet. "It was an accident."

"It's not like you to be so careless, Jiho. I didn't expect this from you. We'll figure out a more appropriate punishment when we get back to the company but for now just- just take care of these dishes. Don't cause any more mess for the staff."

The manager leaves, sighing heavily on his way out. The rest of the crew has dispersed, maybe too uncomfortable to watch Jiho get reprimanded. It's just Jiho and a pile of dishes left. She gets to work.

She doesn't know how long she's been washing when Jiho hears a familiar voice behind her. "Need a hand?"

Shiah has changed into her normal clothes, hair still done up in braids but some of her makeup wiped away. Jiho has half a mind to tell her to fuck off, but instead she nods, making room for her at the sink. They work quietly, just the sounds of water sloshing around and the clink of dishes, until Shiah suddenly lets the pan she's scrubbing fall back into the sink, turning to Jiho.

"Why did you do that?" she asks. "You're going to get in big trouble for something that was my fault."

"I don't know," Jiho answers.

"Well you did it, so there has to be some reason," Shiah presses.

Jiho stares down at the sudsy water. "It's stupid. I think I just got caught up in wanting to do nice things for you, wanting you to notice me."

"I'm your unnie, I should be the one who's helping you, not the other way around."

"It's not like that," Jiho says, quietly. "It's not a dongsaeng thing, so just. Forget about it, okay?"

"Jiho," Shiah says, and maybe it's that magical quality to her voice that convinces Jiho to look up at her. She doesn't look disgusted like Jiho had sort of expected. She's almost smiling. "What is it, then?"

"You know what I mean," Jiho says, looking away again. She can't stand the thought of getting her hopes up and she knows that even Shiah is not oblivious enough to miss her point.

"I want to hear you say it," Shiah says. "Why did you want me to notice you?"

It's this moment that's more frightening than her audition, her first evaluation, her debut stage, or any of the other brave new worlds Jiho's had to face since training. "Because I like you."

The next moment feels like an eternity, before Shiah's hand finds hers under the water, squeezing. "You didn't have to do anything special for me to notice you," she says. "And you didn't have to lie for me. I already told our manager it was my fault."

Shiah leans in, dropping her head against Jiho's shoulder, and Jiho's breath catches in her throat. She says, "You know what I would do if we were really alone now?"

"What?"

"Kiss you," Shiah whispers.

"Oh," Jiho says. She feels almost like laughing, a little hysterical. For a second she's not positive this isn't some exhaustion related fever dream, but the feeling of Shiah's fingers in hers, pruning under the soapy water, feels much too real to be anything else. "I would like that," she says.

Between group mates, managers, teachers, cameramen, and any number of people running around behind the scenes, idols are hardly ever alone. But for a moment, in the middle of the kitchen set while 20 other people moving around behind them, Jiho feels like she and Shiah are the only two people in the world.

+ 1.)

Jiho wakes up feeling like someone has rubbed sandpaper down the insides of her throat. "I'm dying," she croaks out to Hyejin.

"You're not dying," Hyejin says, "and you still have to go to school."

"You're not my real mom," Jiho says, sticking her tongue out, but she obediently climbs out of her bunk anyway. Hyejin is right, the manager is not going to let her miss one of the few days in their schedule that Jiho can actually attend school.

It's a long day. Jiho gets her voice back mid-morning, but her vocal teachers let her sit out on practice, letting her save what voice she does have. She almost falls asleep during music theory and the prospect of having to go straight to the company building after leaving school makes Jiho want to curl up in a ball under her desk. She has to remind herself that this is her dream and that, as Shiah's self-help books would say, hardships only make a person stronger in the end.

Any burst of motivation has long worn off by the time she gets to the company building and she drags her feet all the way to the locker room, feeling exhausted.

When she opens her locker, she's surprised to see an herbal medicine drink resting on top of her practice clothes, a note taped to the bottle.

i know you're not feeling well today but just remember that you're tougher than any stupid cold!

drink this before practice and i hope you'll feel better. (*＾v＾*)

ilu,
shiah ♡♡♡♡

day five: the babysitter, for g_odalisque13

unnimod — Sun, 11 Sep 2016 04:19:21 GMT

Title: The Babysitter
Recipient: g_odalisque13
Fandom/Pairing: APink; Chorong/Eunji
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Chorong had always felt something uncomfortable about Eunji.

Chorong squeezed into the train at 6:10, commuters pushing at her elbow and Mother's voice in her ear. She juggled the phone over to the other side so she could make room for her bag. "It's okay, Mother," she said, "the babysitter is at home now."

Even through the bad connection she could hear her mother's sharp intake of breath. It's okay? Chorong might have said she'd left Haera in the house alone with a burglar.

Chorong knew that her mother thought it was atrocious that she could pay another woman to raise her child. No, not raise! The babysitter was only there in the two or three hours between Haera finishing school and Chorong finishing work. She was necessary.

Chorong had originally called to tell Mother she'd been promoted at work, but she hung up without saying anything about it. Mother would rather hear her say that she quit her job and found a husband. But Chorong had no mind for that. She couldn't imagine any man would want to marry a woman who already had a child, and besides, there was no man that Chorong wanted to marry. She was so used to just her and Haera - together they were full and complete, there was no room for another person.

Except...

Chorong's head felt light as she stepped off the train.

Except... the babysitter. The woman who fit in between the time Haera finished school and Chorong finished work - she had become normal too. Perhaps she had become too normal. Mother's apprehensions lingered at the back of Chorong's mind.

Just as Chorong reached her front door she heard singing. She felt her heart twist in her chest as she paused on the doorstep and listened harder. Eunji was singing with Haera, but Eunji's voice was clearer, floating through the air and walls with a note that was at once joyful and sad. "I want us to live together for 100 years..."

Chorong did not dare interrupt it. She waited silently outside until they were quiet.

When she opened the door, she saw Eunji on the ground with her guitar. She stood up smiling, and Haera hid her face in Eunji's skirt.

"Your mum is home," Eunji said cheerfully, and patted Haera's head. "Go give her a kiss."

Haera stumbled over shyly and Chorong knelt down so they were facing. Haera kept her head down, so Chorong touched her cheek.

Haera always acted strange around this time. If she was happy to see her mother, it was masked by her misery at having to say goodbye to Eunji. She sometimes even cried when Eunji left, and with a tight throat Chorong wondered why Haera never cried when she said goodbye in the mornings.

"Haera was good today," Eunji said softly. "She was doing drawings all afternoon quietly, and then we played some music together. Haera - go get your drawings so you can show your mum."

The little girl nodded, and ran to her room.

When she was alone with Eunji, Chorong smoothed her skirt down awkwardly. She felt strange in her office clothes, like she somehow didn't belong here in this warm and domestic place. Eunji was wearing a long floral skirt that was so pretty and homely - ah, no wonder Haera loves her so much! Chorong was disturbed her own thoughts, so she said quickly:

"Will you stay for dinner?"

"I'd like to. But I have an evening class tonight, so I better be going."

"But aren't you hungry? don't you want something before your class?"

Eunji laughed loudly. "You're always worrying about me. You're such a mum."

Haera came skipping into the room, her sadness at Eunji's leaving was now replaced with excitement at showing her pictures. Eunji kissed her head. "I'm off now, darling. Don't forget to explain all the details in the drawings, just like you explained to me."

Haera nodded, and took the drawings over to Chorong as Eunji left. The drawing she held up had three figures. The one in the middle was wearing a red dress.

"Ah, that's you!" Chorong said, and Haera became excited.

"Yes, that one is me! I put you on the other side." She pointed at the drawing where there was a long figure in grey.

"Oh... I'm the grey one."

Haera nodded. Chorong could not match her excitement.

"And the other person? Who is that?"

Haera looked at her with surprise. "You don't know it?"

Chorong could see it now. The bright colours and flowers in her skirt. "Of course, that's Eunji."

* * *

Chorong put the drawing on the fridge. After Haera had gone to bed, she looked at it for a while, a strange tide of thoughts flooding her mind. Being a single parent was challenging for all sorts of reasons, finding time and finding money, but she wondered if Haera ever suffered because of it. She had been successful in keeping them both afloat, but what if Haera was missing the presence of a second parent, that all other families seemed to take for granted?

When she put Haera to bed, she had combed out the plait in her hair. It was not the same one she had tied when she had done it in the morning. "Why did your hair change?"

"Eunji changed it for me. I like the way she ties it better."

"Ah, of course..."

Haera turned around to look up at her. "Can Eunji stay with us all the time?"

Chorong drew her breath, but then she smiled. "Go to sleep."

* * *

Haera's drawing had put Chorong in a strange mood. There was something she liked about it, even though at first she had been conscious of how Haera had put her to the side in grey. But it somehow felt harmonious, and so what if Haera was happy? So what if Haera loved her too? Chorong knew she had no reason to be jealous.

The house was so quiet and dark when Haera was asleep. For this reason, Chorong often went to bed early herself, but tonight she wasn't tired, but she was lonely. She picked up her phone and scrolled listlessly through the contacts, until she landed on Eunji's name and picture. She paused. Would it seem weird to do this?

It didn't matter. She pressed call.

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest and she held the receiver to her face as she waited for an answer. Before long she heard Eunji's cheerful voice on the other end.

"Oh, Chorong, what's up? Did I forget something?"

"Ah, no," Chorong stuttered awkwardly, then laughed. "I was actually calling to ask if you would like to go out tomorrow. I was planning on taking Haera to the park, and I wondered... ah, I mean, would you like to come too? Of course you don't have to... it's not like you would want to work on a Saturday, but I..."

She was cut off by Eunji's laughter. "Unnie, why do you sound so nervous? I would love to come and see you. I'll meet you tomorrow morning."

* * *

Chorong usually spent the weekend alone with her daughter, but it didn't bother her that Haera was pleased that Eunji was joining them for their outing. It was refreshing to have the company of another adult, since Chorong's only friends were from work.

They went to Seoul Forest, where the trees were yellow with autumn and the paths were bustling with people; families and children. Chorong and Eunji stood together on the steps, as Haera fed the deer in the enclosure.

"To tell you the truth," Chorong said. "Inviting you here was more for my sake than for Haera's."

"Oh really?" Eunji gave a half smile.

Chorong looked down self consciously at her skirt and shoes, which were her prettiest lace ups that she only wore twice a year. "I wanted you to see me not wearing office clothes for once," she said.

Eunji laughed. "That's fair enough. Come to think of it, we never see each other much. I'm only really there when you aren't."

* * *

They headed for home when the sun was low in the sky.

"I'm glad that you asked me to come today," Eunji said. She added, quietly so that Haera couldn't hear, "to be honest, I used to think you didn't like me."

Chorong was startled. "I always liked you." Was that true? She had always felt something uncomfortable about Eunji, but it wasn't dislike. At least she didn't think so.

"Yes, I came to realise that you are just the quiet type. We never really talked before anyway."

They had talked harmoniously throughout the day. Eunji was studying music at a university and she revealed to Chorong that it was her goal to become a school teacher.

"It makes sense. I can tell you have a natural way with children."

"Do you think so?"

"I'd say it's a talent." She stopped short of revealing that she sometimes felt awkward talking to her own daughter, and she sometimes wished Haera would just hurry and grow up so that they could have a normal conversation.

Eunji stayed with them when they made dinner. Chorong had not suggested it, but somehow it felt natural for her to stay. She was asking Haera what should they cook and Haera seemed enthusiastic about joining in. Eunji noticed the drawing that Chorong had put on the fridge.

"It's cute, right?" she said, and patted Haera on the head as she laughed.

Eunji ended up staying after dinner too, reading stories to Haera in the living room. Chorong listened to them, smiling at the way Eunji put expressions in her voice. Really, she was so charming...

After Haera was put to bed, Eunji and Chorong were alone again. There was a moment of silence, before Chorong said suddenly:

"I was promoted at work. I haven't told anyone yet."

"Congratulations. That's such good news."

Chorong looked at her feet. "I don't know if it's a good thing. The new job will be more demanding and I might have to spend more time at the office. I'm worried Haera won't know me anymore. Will she forget who I am?"

Eunji laughed. "Forget you? She adores you, she talks about you all the time. You work because you have to. Haera will understand when she's older."

Chorong suddenly felt embarrassed. She kept her eyes on the floor. As she was contemplating this, Eunji spoke again.

"To be honest, I'd steal your life if I could. You have a nice house, a good job, a beautiful daughter and you did everything on your own. Me... I'm like a fallen leaf blowing in the wind. I liked being free, but since I started working for you I thought, wouldn't it be better to live like this? Don't be offended. I guess what I'm saying is I really look up to you."

Chorong raised her eyes to meet Eunji, but now Eunji was the one looking embarrassed. She realised that this confession had made them equals, and she continued looking at Eunji with an excited fascination, but she did not say anything.

The silence unnerved Eunji. "Ah, it's weird me talking like this. Should I go home?"

Chorong stood up and held out her hand. Eunji looked at it for a second, and then she took it.

"I'd prefer if you stayed."

day four: Communications 101, for staygame

unnimod — Sat, 10 Sep 2016 04:48:30 GMT

Title: Communications 101
Recipient: staygame
Fandom: Oh My Girl
Rating: G
Summary: Seunghee loses her voice and comes up with different methods of communication. It doesn’t work very well and luckily, her members are there to help. Or not.

“Hey, Seunghee?” Hyojung hesitantly calls out, interrupting the younger girl as she was in the middle of telling Mimi an epic story.

“Yes?” Seunghee’s raspy voice replies back and Hyojung cringes. In the grand scheme of things, she should probably be glad that their main vocalist decided to lose her voice at a more… opportune time- for a lack of better words- choosing to do so right as promotions were ending and they were due for a long, long break.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be talking so much?” Hyojung advises. “We wouldn’t want our main vocalist to damage her voice.”

“It’s fine!” Seunghee exclaims and Hyojung has to fight to keep that tight smile on her face. “It’s just a slight cold. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Hyojung doubts it’s just a slight cold- because if it were a slight cold, Seunghee would be coughing and maybe her voice would be a bit throatier than usual but right now, Seunghee sounds like her throat had been mauled by a lion. Several lions. A whole pride of lions.

“Uh, are you su-”

“Yeah!” Seunghee exclaims vehemently. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry so much, mom,” Seunghee teases and Hyojung sighs. Maybe it’s time to play dirty.

.

“You want me to do what?” Arin asks and Hyojung almost shushes her despite the fact that Seunghee is currently not in the dorm. Seunghee’s out- karaokeing with friends, of all things- and that fact only further proves that Hyojung needs a long, long break. From this group.

“I want you to aegyo your way into Seunghee’s heart and convince her to shut her mouth for the next two weeks.”

“Uh,” comes Arin’s smart reply. “But why?”

“Because whether Seunghee believes it or not, she lost her voice, and if she ends up permanently damaging it because she’s an idiot who refuses to listen to her smart, beautiful leader, then the future of our group is in danger.” Arin stares blankly back at Hyojung. Hyojung sighs. “And because if you do, I won’t tell Jiho that you were the one who ate the slice of chocolate cake she was saving.”

At that, Arin pales and immediately replies with a meek “Yes, ma’am.”

.

Arin slowly pokes her head into the room before cautiously calling out, “Seunghee-unni? Can I talk to you?”

“Of course!” Seunghee exclaims as she tosses her phone across the room to focus her full attention on Arin. “What do you need to talk about?”

“Um,” Arin starts off as she hesitantly walks over to Seunghee. She’s really not good at this aegyo thing, being too shy and not shameless enough to pull it off effortlessly. But she did ask her classmate, Mina, for some pointers and according to her, the key points to a shy girl’s aegyo are wide, innocent eyes (check), a mild form of baby talk (check?), and appearing small and cute (not check). The last component may be a bit hard considering that Arin is currently 171cm and still growing, but Seunghee apparently doesn’t seem to notice this- if the way she is fondly patting Arin’s head is any sign. “How’s your throat?”

“It’s fine!” Seunghee exclaims and Arin can finally understand what Hyojung means when she says Seunghee sounds like her throat was mauled by a lion. “It hurts just a bit but I should be fine in a couple of days.”

“But unni, don’t you think you should take better care of your throat? I really like your voice and I wouldn’t want you to lose it or anything.”

“Ay,” Seunghee waves off. “Trust in your unni.”

“But unniiii,” Arin drags out, making sure to put a whine in her tone. “You need to take better care of yourself. Can’t you just not use your voice as much as possible for two weeks or something?” Seunghee looks like she’s about to argue back, Arin hammers in the final nail in the coffin. “For me?” she cutely adds on, looking at Seunghee through her eyelashes and makes sure to toy with her hands for effect.

Seunghee’s eyes dilate and Arin takes it as a success. “Of course!” Seunghee answers after a moment, which was spent squealing over how cute Arin is and pinching her cheeks. “But how am I going to talk? You know I love to talk.”

And Arin panics because she had never planned on getting this far. “Uh?” She looks back to the door, where Hyojung was peeking in through a small crack Arin had left open. Hyojung pulls out a packet of post-its and starts to crazily gesture to it. “Maybe you should try communicating through writing? Like post-its or something?”

“That’s a great idea!” Seunghee exclaims before immediately clasping her hands over her mouth. “Sorry,” she apologetically rasps out.

.

“Good job, Arin-ah,” Hyojung praises as she fondly pats the younger girl’s head. “I knew you could do it.”

“So you’re not going to tell Jiho-unni that I was the one who ate the last of her cake now, right?” Arin asks.

Before Hyojung could answer, another voice cuts in. “You did what?” They both turn around to see Jiho with a dark look on her face.

“Uh,” is all Arin manages to get out before Jiho lunges at her.

Hyojung immediately tries to stop the taller girl by latching onto her leg. “Run, Arin, run!” she yells. “I’ll hold her off for as long as I can!” And that’s all Arin needs to start sprinting away from Jiho, who is still trying to chase after her even though she has a tiny leader attached to her left leg.

.

“Do you want to see me do my doorbell imitation?”

JinE looks up from the post-it Seunghee has just placed on her desk to Seunghee herself, then back to the post-it, then back to Seunghee. “I guess?” This doesn’t sound like a good idea but it’s been a pretty slow day and JinE is kind of bored.

Seunghee beams at her answer and writes something on her pad of post-its before sticking another one down, right above the first one. “You have to knock the door.” JinE hesitantly knocks on the table three times, and on the third knock, Seunghee slams down a post-it that just says “ARRRGGGHHHH” and looks at JinE expectantly.

JinE blanks for a moment before hesitantly clapping her hands. “That was.. great?” Apparently, JinE’s lackluster response seems to have satisfied Seunghee because she throws her arms up in a silent celebration before happily skipping off. JinE shakes her head. Well, it most definitely did make her day more interesting.

.

Binnie walks into the room to see post-its littering the floor as Seunghee tries to tell Mimi an epic story through those tiny little pieces of paper fluttering to the ground. The sight pains her a bit, and as an alumna from her old high school’s environmental club, Binnie has to do something to stop it. “Hey, Seunghee-unni,” she calls out but Seunghee continues to write onto the pad of post-its. “Unni,” she tries again. Still ignored. “Unni.”

Seunghee then looks up and sticks a post-it onto Binnie’s forehead, right on top of her bangs. Binnie precariously peels off the post-it before reading it. “What is it?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit wasteful to be using so many post-its?” Binnie asks. “I mean, look at the floor. You look like you went through a million of those packs.”

“It’s only been 20!!” Seunghee defends as vehemently as she can through writing.

Binnie sighs. “But still, this isn’t very eco-friendly of you. You should be more considerate towards the Earth. We live on it, afterall.”

Seunghee purses her lips as she considers Binnie’s words before nodding in agreement. “You’re right. But what should I do instead? I haven’t finished telling Mimi this story yet.”

“Yeah, she hasn’t,” added Mimi, who’s been sitting there the entire time. “It’s been an entire week and she still hasn’t finished it.”

“Maybe you should try using gestures or miming or something. Like sign language I guess?” Binnie shrugs. This really isn’t her job. She’s finished doing her part to save the environment. Captain Planet would be proud of her.

.

“Ow!” YooA exclaims as she’s hit in the face by one of Seunghee’s flailing arms. “Seunghee, what are you even doing?” she asks as Seunghee profusely and apologetically mimes Super Junior’s Sorry Sorry dance. Seunghee starts gesturing again and YooA has to duck in order to avoid being hit in the face. Again. Seunghee finishes gesturing and looks at YooA expectantly. YooA blankly stares back. “I’m sorry but can you repeat that?” Seunghee starts going through the same gestures a second time, but it’s not any easier to understand.

“Seunghee says that Arin told her to stop using her voice and at first, she was using post-its, but then Binnie told her it was killing the Earth so she’s been miming instead,” Mimi translates for YooA. Seunghee still hasn’t finished telling Mimi the story and Mimi really wants to know how it ends.

“But why did Arin tell you to stop using your voice?” YooA asks. Seunghee once again starts flailing her arms around in an elaborate dance, and YooA continues to blankly stare at her until she finished. YooA then looks over to Mimi.

“Seunghee says that it’s because she thinks Seunghee has lost her voice and she wants her to not use it anymore until her throat gets better.” Mimi supplies. And then she sighs and looks at Seunghee. “Okay, you need to find some other way to communicate. Translating for you is difficult.” Seunghee gestures some more. “I don’t know what you should do instead,” Mimi replies. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

“Why don’t you just buy a whiteboard?” YooA suggests. “It’s better to communicate with than gesturing and you can erase whatever you write and write something new on it, so it’s not killing trees or whatever Binnie is advocating for.”

Seunghee starts to gesture even more wildly before tackling YooA in a giant hug. “Seunghee says that it’s a great idea and that she loves you,” Mimi says.

“I got it,” Yooa says as Seunghee continuously presses sloppy kisses to her cheek.

.

“Honestly, this whiteboard is sooo much better than miming,” Seunghee writes as she tests out her newest method of communication.

“Yeah,” Mimi agrees. “So much better than miming. Why did Binnie even suggest that to begin with? Using a whiteboard is obviously the best solution.”

“It’s because Binnie’s a loser,” Jiho casually says as she passes through the living room to head into the kitchen. She managed to chase down Arin and make the poor maknae buy her a new chocolate cake as compensation, and she’s really excited to try it.

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” Seunghee asks.

“No,” Jiho shamelessly replies. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Binnie’s a loser.”

“...Go to your room,” Mimi tells her after a long pause. Jiho shrugs and brings the entire cake box back to her room.

.

“Wait, so what happened to the girl in the coffee shop?” Mimi intently asks as she watches Seunghee continue to tell her epic story on the whiteboard.

“She got her face mauled by a cat but that’s not important,” Seunghee replies.

“Wait, what? Why did her face get mauled by a cat?” Mimi asks.

“Because the boy with the nose piercing was-” Before Seunghee could finish writing down her answer, she’s interrupted yet again.

“Where did a cat even come from? Why isn’t this important to the story anymore?” Mimi asks.

“IT’S BECAUSE THE BOY WITH THE NOSE PIERCING IS IN LOVE WITH THE AHJUMMA WHO RUNS THE COFFEE SHOP AND NOT THE GIRL WHO WORKS THERE!” Seunghee exclaims in frustration before gasping and immediately clasping her hands over her mouth. But then the realization hits her. “That was my voice, right?” Mimi nods in amazement. “It’s totally back to normal, right?” Mimi nods again. Then, Seunghee lets out an enormous squeal that shakes the entire dorm and cracks a couple of windows. “My voice is back! My beautiful voice is back! I can go karaokeing again now!” Seunghee cries out before running out of the dorm and presumably to the karaoke place down the street.

“Wait!” Mimi calls out after her. “You never finished telling your story!”

day three: Pieces of Your Heart, for x_disturbed_x

unnimod — Fri, 09 Sep 2016 02:34:57 GMT

Title: Pieces of Your Heart
Recipient: x_disturbed_x
Fandom; Pairing: Mamamoo; Solar/Moonbyul
Rating: PG-13 (for one explicit word)
Summary: Yongsun and Byulyi fall into an adventure.
Warning: Mention of a natural disaster.
Author's Note: Insipired by Mamamoo - Um Oh Ah Yeah mv. (Though, it drifted far away from the mv.)
Thank you to anonymous beta for checking over the fic. Any remaining typos/grammar mistakes are mine \o/

Byulyi believed in legends to a certain extent. There was a happening, and people talked too much about it that the truth became hidden within fancy words and not the words themselves. There might be an artifact as well, at the time of the happening, and it may look mysterious enough to match the thrilling story.

Many would have doubts about it, of course, but others would have enough motivation to search the corners of the globe in hopes to find the truth, and perhaps, would pay a considerable amount of money to obtain artifacts weighed by tales. Which in this case, was a red, shimmering gemstone that carried a sweet legend with its curvy form. Several versions of said legend actually.

It was just a few minutes before midnight when Byulyi reached the luxury hotel where she had been staying for the past two weeks, all in preparation for the arrival of Kan's gemstone. She adjusted her suit, her short-haired wig that kept itching the back of her neck, and let out a breath.

There was a chill in the air, creeping on each and every one of her nerves. The time was nearing, the time was getting slower, testing her composure even after years in the job.

It should be easy, a nine minutes window that would allow her to take the gemstone, but it was never easy. The risk of being caught was always high, and though Byulyi loved the little adventure every mission gave her, she had never eased her guard. No matter how much faith she had in her skills.

Byulyi walked out the elevator and headed for her room, all the while, repeating the steps she would follow like a mantra. When the hour would tick twelve, only two security guard would remain near the museum's team's suite. It was a three days trip for the team, who were transporting a huge collection of small artifacts to another location, two days of it to be spent at the university of arts and history. Exclusive lectures and student-restricted exhibitions had been planned for the non-famous pieces, and for Byulyi, an opportunity to obtain a certain gemstone.

Byulyi had spent days and nights preparing for tonight. She had never allowed any attention to center around her, memorized the staff's shifts, and even checked the guests' list constantly, worried that another seeker was after the same goal as her. So when a cleaning trolley was postioned at the empty room just above the suite where the collection was tucked safe for the night and the door was barely opened, her heart beat a little faster.

,

One thing that Yongsun liked about legends and myths was the adventures they would pull her into. Modest adventures, true, not magical enough to tell the future generations, but they fulfilled her curiosity nonetheless.

Yongsun had always preferred the old mansions and the haunted remains where the darkness of the night was so vivid and the only living beings beside her were the bugs, the owls and the stray animals. It was always creepy, she wouldn't lie, but the thrill that would flow within her and tickle her fingertips was worth the thundering pace of her heart.

Yongsun loved myths, she loved the secrets lying within their words and she loved the worlds that they would intrigue her to discover. She loved them enough that she would follow the crumbs they left in her way even if that meant going through the risk of being caught examining a Kan's gemstone when she shouldn't, and being expelled from university before finishing her master's degree.

But the marvelous red of the gemstone had taken her breath away, and though she worried, she didn't hesitate to take it and leave.

Yongsun held the rope tightly and climbed back up to the empty room. It was a rough climb, but the years of chasing tales of the past had provided her with experience and skill. Still, it was a hard climb with the maid uniform she was wearing as disguise, and the fact that the gemstone pressed into her chest didn't help. But the view was something; the river beside the hotel gleamed, portraying the serenity of the night, while the people and the cars remained a faint, calming addition.

With a suppressed grunt, and a curse, Yongsun made it to the window and lifted herself to get inside, only to be shocked by a shadow near the chair and a soft voice.

"Need some help there?"

Yongsun shrieked at the same moment as her stomach clenched in a way that pushed the air out of her lungs. She held the side frame of the window to support herself, but her balance had already been shaken.

Yongsun didn't think about falling, or the rope, she only grabbed the pointy shoulders that suddenly were within her reach, and strong arms wrapped around her. In an instant, she wasn't falling to meet concrete, instead, she was engulfed in a warm embrace that didn't allow her to slip out of it despite her knee hitting the person's belly.

A groan escaped the person under her, as well as a stream of curses that gave Yongsun the chance to catch her breath.

"Oh, shit! Shit! Are you okay?" Yongsun asked, a lovely scent capturing her attention for a mere moment before she realized that she was still half-sitting on the person under her. She shifted her weight, her heart pounding in her chest. "Are you hurt?!"

Yongsun noticed the wig pushed to the side, and the softness under the girl's fluttering eyelashes. She attempted to move, but like a fire that breathed a needed breath, a dark red glow appeared in her chest. It expanded until it washed over her before she could panic and get the gem out of her clothes.

,

At first, air left her lungs and a heavy ache settled in her back. There was a girl sitting on top of her with widened eyes, her cheeks red and her hair resting on her shoulders in such a fascinating manner that Byulyi missed what she said. She met the girl's eyes and felt the worry in them strike at her heart. The girl shifted, her weight resembling a warm blanket that eased away Byulyi's panic about her plans.

Byulyi tried to sit upright, but a crimson gleam had appeared under the girl's clothes. Sudden, expanding and not quite terrifying, Or so Byulyi wanted to believe, as she couldn't tell which was more important: getting up, freaking out, or falling into the girl's trembling irises. Byulyi let the cloud engulf her, she heard a gasp and the walls and chairs faded into a gloomy, blue sky while winds howled in her ears.

It happened in a heartbeat, an eternity of its own. Cold was wrapping around her like a cloth tailored only for her. It touched her knuckles as she hugged an old, sleeping woman in her arms, and it reached her bones. It had stung her eyes, drawing more tears to follow the dry ones, and washed over her shaky arms and legs with hurried breezes that smelled of dirt and smoke and flowers.

She was no longer crying, Byulyi was longer crying. She was determined, angry, heart swelling with sorrow. Around her, unfamilir, injured people shouted and wept and the clouds above seemed to be closing upon her as if to mend her aching heart.

The ruins spoke of what happened, and perhaps so did the saddened sky. But Byulyi knew, from a mind that wasn't hers, that the warning for the hurricane had come late.

The crimson came in a wave, so quickly, so unfortunately, drawing her back to the hotel room and Yongsun. The actual Yongsun, whose fear was painted on her features. Her chest was heaving, Byulyi's, too, and she made a shaky attempt to get the red glow out of her blouse.

The gemstone, it was real.

Yongsun dropped the gemstone as if it was a fire that bit her fingers. She murmured an apology, trembling, tears shimmering in her eyes.

All the while, Byulyi stared at her, not knowing what to do. She wanted to reach for her, for Yongsun, and soothe the sadness in her heart away, a fleeting desire it was, but words failed her and her strength abandoned her as she absorbed the current of contrasting feelings whirling inside her heart. All she could do was watch Yongsun run away and hear the alarm she had set go off.

She had a few short moments to leave, but Byulyi relaxed on the floor, months' worth of planning reaching an unexpected end. The gemstone was an arm lenght away on the floor, a swaying flare still glowing in its core.

Byulyi closed her eyes, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. Amazed she was, and her heart filled with an inescapable grief.

,,

It was a lot to get used to in the time a week and five days had to offer, but Byulyi found a way to carry on with the doses of sorrow and anger and other different feelings. They came from a life that wasn't hers, a stream crashing into her entire being.

Byulyi stared at the headline on her laptop's screen. Students Break into Alak, A New Discovery Is Made.

It wasn't hard finding out who Yongsun was, not for Byulyi at least, but living with a memory from Yongsun was unnerving, especially with the gemstone being prominant in her sight and mind. It looked even more dazzling under the strong sunlight filling her room with familiar warmth, its undying flare calling for her to seek Yongsun. That's what Byulyi felt, at least, as the heaviness settling in her chest was becoming increasingly pronounced as time went on.

Byulyi questioned if meeting Yongsun would fix things, but she wondered about the person whose existence she had fallen into more.

It had been a close call, being caught back at the hotel. After finally coming back to her senses, Byulyi followed the steps she had prepared, and with littel changes, any suspicion was drawn far away from her.

And despite having the gemston in her possession, she couldn't see the mission as successful. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she focused on Yongsun.

,

Yongsun had started counting the minutes five days after her last adventure. There was a void in her life, an incomplete moment. There was an echo of a missing sorrow that made sleep a stubborn need, as though it was hiding with a stranger wearing a wig.

For how long had wished for the ache in her heart to ease its grip on her life? The same ache that burnt like a fuel to get her to where she at. To make her who she was today. A dreamer, ambitious, who was still longing for her family and still loving her family. She remembered the same, but that day of the hurricane, that single day when they left no longer weakened her one moment and gave her an endless strength the next.

Yongsun knew that wish lasted longer than she could remember, but now that the pain was gone, now that the loss was nothing more than images in her head, Yongsun wanted it to return.

It was a cloudy day, a little brighter than the on in her memory of that day, and the class felt dull when Yongsun had wished it would serve as a distraction from what happened.

Yongsun still remembered how it felt, she watched the person who saved her live a moment of Yongsun's own life. It felt strange and overwhelming.

She shouldn't have left the gemstone, a thought reminded her. It angered her as much as the fact that... of all the versions and tales about the gemstone, it had to be this one that was real. But the person, the person only raised her curiosity as if they were a legend of their own.

Yongsun sighed, trying to focus on the professor's excited words. A big part of her still wanted the gemstone. She couldn't go back to the hotel after the museum gave petty threats of finding the thief. For heaven's sake, it wasn't even a popular artifact! And, technically, the gemstone still belonged to Kan people.

The gemstone simply disappeared. Because of her.

Yongsun was actually furious .

Yongsun didn't realize she was lost in her thoughts again until her classmates started getting up. She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply as students hurried to leave and the nerve-wrecking quiet started to loom over her. She shouldn't ahve freaked out, she should have been more careful and focused on the gemstone, not lost in her emotions.

With a sigh, Yongsun collected her things and got up when the door was opened and closed. She hoped for a break from thinking about her failure, and perhaps her wish had been just granted.

There was a familiar girl waiting at the door, a backpack on her shoulder and her hair a beautiful shade of brown. Yongsun recognized her immediately, and without realizing, heat rushed to her cheeks. Her heart hammered in her chest as the girl approched her seat, a lovely upturn from her lips when their eyes met intensified Yongsun's nervousness a little more.

While the girl laid her backpack on the table, Yongsun couldn't resist staring at her slim figure until a familiar red drew her attention.

"I believe this belongs to you?" The girl said in a warm voice, capturing a beat of Yongsun's heart.

All that Yongsun could think of was the glow, still swaying like a serene fire. Oh, and the girl's tender smile.

,

Her name was Byulyi, Yongsun learned, and it may and may not have been a concidence that she was at the hotel room, disguised in a look that wasn't quite her own. But she wasn't a creep! She simply was good at finding information, Byulyi had stressed and swore, the nervous smile on her lips and the red washing her cheeks and ears spoke of her sincerity.

Also, the fact that she didn't report Yongsun sort of confirmed the latter's conclusion about her.

She was cute, Yongsun decided as Byulyi stood near the window. Charming. "What are you going to do with it?" Byulyi asked, pulling Yongsun out of her daze.

"Hm? Oh, I'm not keeping it. I was never going to," she replied, indulging in the flutters and warmth in her stomach. A combination that she liked being caused by Byulyi.

Yongsun reached to touch the gemstone, but pasued in hesitation. She feared what reaction she might trigger.

"It didn't do anything for the past two weeks, and it still won't turn off."

Yongsun looked at her, a furrow was wrinkling Byulyi's brows. Adorable, Yongsun thought, then remembered. "I don't think it would do anything again, but turning it off..." she smiled at the thought. How could one turn off supernatural forces?

"Did you know?" Yongsun asked, holding the gemstone carefully in her palm, "the legend says there are actually eight of them. Scattered around the world."

Byulyi's smile widened. "I know it is supposed to guide lost ones to their homes, not play with memories. Ah, and there is also that story about the gemstone being the map for an incredible treasure," she said with a wishful voice.

Yongsun looked at Byulyi and saw the setting sun caress her with its soft rays. Her heart swelled with liking, beating a little fast, and the mention of memories was all forgotten. "That story was proven to be false."

"Yeah, but not everyone believes that. Many still thinks the map is actually carved on it, but I checked and found nothing."

"That's why you were there at the hotel?" Yongsun asked. And Byulyi's only answer was a quiet chuckle.

Yongsun knew she wouldn't be the only one seeking the gemstone that night, or any artifact of the collection for that matter, especially when the chance to obtain one was high.

"No," Byulyi finally answered, "I don't like dirt and chasing fantasies. Not to mention, searching for tresures takes years. I don't have the heart to wait that long, but others do." She was speaking with endearing confidnece, capturing more of Yongsun's focus, centering it around her. "And others... would pay a lot to have a lead or two to get closer to their breakthrough," Byulyi finished with a smile, folding her arms. "Sorry it might not be what you imagined about me."

It was then Yongsun's turn to laugh, although it was an obviously nervous laugh. "Oh, so I have been thinking about you?"

Byulyi only gazed at her before answering, a smile remaining on her lips. "I hope you were."

Yongsun was. For two weeks and four days, she had wondered about the person who lifted a weight off her heart, yet stole a precious cloud at the same time. She couldn't say that, however, she couldn't deny it, either. Words refused to obey her wavering want to deny.

Byulyi came to sit next to her. "I--I couldn't find anything about what happened. How to undo it or get the... memory back to you."

If anything, Byulyi seemed concerned, and adding that to the Antiques Collector image, or the Advanturer one, or even the Thief image Yongsun had about Byulyi was actually fitting.

Memories, right, Yongsun cleared her throat and leaned back on her chair. Only now remembering the gemstone in her hand and the little flare. It looked like an eternal fire, the flare, mighty in its tiny form.

"There isn't," Yongsun said after a moment. "A way to give it back, there isn't any."

,

If Yongsun's had her way, now that she had known who was the person that saved her, she would have thanked Byulyi a different way. A simple Thank you! and a kiss on the cheek would have done it. Or, if Yongsun let her growing desire, and a little of her selfishness cloud her judgment, she would have gone with a dinner and a walk along the Central Park as a start. Then maybe a kiss if Byulyi was on the inside as she looked on the outside, beautiful. And perhaps a hug and a tug at Byulyi's nice shirt later in the night to invite her inside would be a great ending. But that was just Yongsun's wishful thinking after a few hours with a girl named Byulyi.

Plus, the only other idea she had was showing Byulyi her precious collection of antiques, which was a modest collection. So the gemstone's way it was. It had sensed the sincerity of Byulyi's action upon saving her, and for that, it took one piece of Yongsun's heart and gave it to Byulyi. An ocean of emotion, a depth of an important memory that Yongsun needed to move on from, even if Yongsun thought she didn't, shouldn't.

Yongsun looked at Byulyi beside her. She seemed so focused on the screen. "The translation could be wrong, there must be a way to take it off," Yongsun said, her words were hurried. "I'm really sorry, Byulyi."

Byulyi met her eyes. "Do you want it back?"

It surprised her that she asked that. She attempted to answer, and Byulyi only showed her tenderness.

"I..." she tried again. "It is a burden. You shouldn't be carrying it."

"It isn't a burden."

"You only say that now, try living with it for the rest of your life," Yongsun got up, frustrated and angry anew. The indifference she felt about that day was unwelcomed. "Maybe there is a document that I haven't checked yet, or--" she started pacing the room, going through solutions she had already gone through.

"It isn't just a sad memory. I understand," Byulyi said after a moment. A glimpse of guilt flashing in her eyes. "It isn't just sadness," she said. "There is anger, fear. Thankfulness because you reached her before she left," Byulyi went on, tip-toeing on Yongsun's heartstrings. Neither was a good thing nor bad. "There is determination because you promised her, and there is hope, too."

Byulyi lowered her gaze. "It is a huge part of your life, and I stole it from you. Sort of. That's how it feels, right? It happened to you, and it changed you, but now I'm feeling everything about it and you don't."

Yongsun was angry, but Byulyi's voice was a gentle caress.

"It is okay to be angry at me or the whole world," Byulyi said with a smile. "And if there is a way to get it back to you, we'll find it. I promise."

Her smile was the soft breeze Yongsun needed to steady the ground beneath her.

"Are you always like this? Are you really just okay with being sad and miserable about something that isn't even yours?"

"Well," Byulyi's cheeks turned red. "Not exa-"

"Don't answer that," Yongsun interrupted her, shaking her head and walking toward her bed to lie face down on it. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have lost my balance in the first place," she said, her voice dimmed down by the pillow. "I am angry at you. A lot."

"I know, it's okay."

Yongsun peeked at her, she had heard the smile in her voice and it widened when she raised her head. "I want us to fuck, too, is that also okay?"

"One hundred percent," Byulyi answered right away as if the question was trivial, leaning back on the chair and laughing calmly.

Yongsun wined, burying her face into her pillow. She couldn't keep her anger at Byulyi a constant stream, she didn't want to try.

She wanted her feelings back, even if her longing and love for her family hadn't changed one bit, she wanted her memory of that day to be whole again, and while it hurt to have lost them, she couldn't helpt but to wonder how Byulyi is handling them in her life.

,

It took some convincing, but Yongsun finally agreed to at least eat something, and after four spoons of frozen ice cream, and a lot of gazing at the distance that made Byulyi feel maybe it was better to leave and give Yongsun some time alone, the latter asked her.

How does it feal?

It felt like a bang in her chest sometimes, but how could she tell Yongsun about her own pain? She answered with It is just there, focusing on the ice cream in her bowl, but sometimes, I want to cry, or stay in bed the whole day.

Regret had been obvious on Yongsun, darkening her features in a way that tempted Byulyi to cheer her up.

"Hey, but it isn't just that, I swear. The other day, I had this rush of motivation to continue my research about the Aria archive. It's been a long time since I abandoned it, so it isn't all bad."

There was a shimmer in Yongsun's eyes, a faint surprise drawn on her face. Or maybe it was disbelief. "You are researching about the Aria archive? You know about the Temple?"

It was disblief, Byulyi laughed before answering. "I never said I didn't like legends."

"Tha--wow, wait. You just said you don't like dirt and waiting that long! Don't tell me you are planning to sell your research, too" There was still a shadow in Yongsun's eyes, but a notable brightness had coated her voice. Byulyi was pleased with that.

"What? No! I love the story," Byulyi said with excitement she couldn't hide, "and it isn't like I'm spending my whole day on it. Just most of it, and I think I'm on to something."

Yongsun stared at her, mouth opened and eyes wide before she fell into a fit of loud laughter that Byulyi couldn't help but to fall with her.

"You are unbelievable," Yongsun said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. Byulyi remembered their tears from that day, she cleared her throat as their laughter trailed off and ignored the hurt expanding withinh her.

"I still can't believe what happened," Yongsun spoke a moment later. "The gemstone is actually real," she met her eyes, "we actually confirmed that legends are real."

"Okay, I wouldn't go that far," Byulyi said with a chuckle, standing up.

"I'm serious," Yongsun replied, "if this one legend is true, what makes the others aren't?"

"Everything?" Byulyi grabbed her jacket and backpack, it was getting late and she didn't want to make Yongsun dwell on the ache she no longer had and that Byulyi carried.

"Maybe there are missing pieces that no one has found yet, key pieces that would trigger the effect."

"Or a situation like the one we had?" Byulyi asked, her smile was still present. Only for Yongsun perhaps.

"Yeah, I'm still angry at you, don't mention that night ever again," Yongsun said, making Byulyi only dip more in the growing affection and happiness that Yongsun had planted within her heart.

They gazed at each other as they stood at the door, the seconds seeming to pass slowly just for them.

"So, I guess this is goodbye," Byulyi said, adjusting her jacket. She knew it could never be goodbye, not with a part of Yongsun in her heart. "When, um, I find something about how to reverse what the gemstone did--"

Yongsun neared her, and stood on her bare toes. She rested her hand on the nape of Byulyi's neck, and pulled her for the softest of kisses. Or was it Yongsun's lips that tasted soft, wonderful?

"This is goodnight, and call me," Yongsun let out, her lips just inches away from hers. Her breaths warm and quick on Byulyi's jaw, and her warmth welcoming.

Byulyi smiled, and Yongsun whispered a Bye before closing the door.

How does it feel? My... feelings in you. My own pain.Yongsun had asked.

They felt like a heaviness that Byulyi couldn't quite move, and yet Byulyi would have it weigh on her just the same if the alternative meant never meeting Yongsun.

day two: Love at First Nom, for bluedreaming

unnimod — Thu, 08 Sep 2016 03:08:46 GMT

Title: Love at First Nom
Recipient: bluedreaming
Fandom/Pairing: Twice; Momo/Mina
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Momo and Mina fall in love at a dance academy.
Author Notes: Thanks to Kianna for the beta. :)

The first time Hiari Momo met Myoui Mina she had a piece of food hanging out of her mouth. She stopped mid chew when the slender girl with short brown hair walked by. Her movements were so graceful and precise.

Almost instantly Momo knew Myoui Mina had to be a ballet dancer. How else could such poise be explained? This certainly didn’t apply to Momo who stared at Mina with wide eyes and sauce dribbling down her chin from the food not chewed yet.

“Hello,” Momo blurted out with a mouth full of food. She desperately tried to chew and swallow the food as quickly as possible.

Mina paused, a smile slowly making it’s way to her lips. “Hello.”

“I’m Momo. Did you just start here? You look new.” Finally Momo managed to swallow the rest of her food. Her stomach growled in protest but the food could wait-- for a bit.

“Mina. I was recently accepted here on a ballet scholarship,” she said. “I’m actually late for class but I’ll see you later?”

The last part clearly was a question but Momo didn’t want to get her hopes up. Still best to answer because not answering would be rude. “My major is actually hip hop but there’s always the possibility as we share a general education class.”

“Can I have your mobile? I’ll text you my number and then we can sort out any possible shared classes later.”

Momo blurted out her number. Her heart started to beat a little faster when the phone buzzed, indicating that she got a text message.

“Bye!”

“Bye,” Momo choked out.

Once Mina was gone Momo yanked out her phone and quickly moved to unlock it. Fingers trembled while punching in the code but Momo eventually put in the correct numbers.

Call me soon, k? I wanna hang out soon. U seem cool. (*^3^)

Momo held back a squeal. From the text (and added emoji) it gave the sense that Mina was flirting with her. She was interested in more than friendship and somehow Momo’s body language and gestures told Mina that she did like girls.

The only problem is that Momo had no idea how she sent these signals to Mina. Looking back at the interaction Momo only saw herself as a nervous, bumbling wreck while trying to chat up a pretty girl.

Later that evening when Momo and Mina did meet up. Mina reached her hand out and laid it on Momo’s. The action shocked Momo so much that she nearly choked on her coffee. Apparently it was too much to ask to play it cool around Mina.

“So my flirting worked?” Momo asked nervously, drawing a laugh out of Mina. Though she looked more confident than Momo, her cheeks were tinged a light pink and hand lightly trembling.

“Yes. It was very effective.”

“I… I think that’s the first time that ever worked. Either I come off too awkward or the girl is straight.

“I’m far from straight.”

Momo’s eyes lit up as she tried her hardest to suppress a giggle. “Well now that, that’s out of the way… what’s your favorite color?”

She wanted to know everything about Mina and she found out a great deal that night. Not very surprising considering that they talked for two hours until nearly closing time.

The never evening Momo waited for Mina to finish ballet practice so they could go get a quick cup of coffee. Watching Mina dance instantly blew Momo away. She became mesmerized by the graceful movements which were more evident in her dancing.

“Momo?”

Momo snapped out of her daze and saw Mina standing right in front of her, hand moving towards Momo’s shoulder. She didn’t even realize Mina finished her dance practice.

“You are a great dancer.”

Mina smiled another shy smile. “I'm sure you're just as good. Can I come watch your practice tomorrow.

“Of course!”

When Momo moved to stand up, Mina leaned down in an attempt to kiss her. Their heads bumped together, causing Momo to wince in pain. Still, Momo wasn’t deterred. If anything she was determined.

“Try again?”

Mina’s response was a nod followed by a kiss-- that didn’t cause any sudden headbutts. Honestly, Momo preferred her kisses that way.

“So coffee?” Mina asked.

“And food?”

This caused Mina to laugh.

“Yes.”

Momo loved that Mina appreciated her love of food. They were going to work out just fine.

day one: kiss kiss kiss, for downcastqueen

unnimod — Tue, 06 Sep 2016 23:57:20 GMT

Title: Kiss Kiss Kiss
Recipient: downcastqueen
Fandom/Pairing: Oh My Girl | Arin/Binnie, Arin/everyone
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Arin hasn’t had her first kiss yet, but the other girls in her cabin at summer camp are determined to remedy that.
Author's notes: Uninspired title from the song by BENI of the same name. To the recipient, I hope you like this! Thanks for giving me an excuse to write Oh My Girl ^^

It was a lot to take in, Arin thought, as she followed the directions on the map she had been handed at the welcoming table. There were girls everywhere- laughing, talking, lugging heavy looking duffel bags. It was obvious that many of them had been to this camp before with the comfortable way they were roaming around and excitedly greeting old friends. But Arin spotted quite a few girls who seemed just as timid as herself and felt it was safe to assume that they were first timers as well.

Camp wasn't necessarily Arin’s thing. But that summer, her parents had apparently wanted her outside instead of indoors, reading like she usually was, because they had sat her down at the beginning of summer vacation with pamphlets from half a dozen camps. Her mother had been very adamant that they didn’t want to force her. Arin supposed she could have refused, but while she was determined, she was also not one to cause conflict. So she had very unenthusiastically chosen the all girls camp for ages thirteen to eighteen. Archery wouldn’t be so bad, surely?

“Where are you going?” a girl asked, throwing an arm around Arin’s shoulders like they were old friends.

A look to her left revealed an older looking girl of about her height with long, blonde hair in a ponytail, bangs, and lips that naturally curved up at the edges, stretched in a grin that showed her gums.

“Um,” Arin looked down at the handwritten number and the circled cabin on her map even though she didn't actually need to check. “Cabin seven.”

“Yooa! She's one of ours!” the girl called over her shoulder, and before Arin could turn to look at who she was talking to, there was a girl skipping in front of them- auburn hair flowing behind her and large, doll-like eyes friendly as she took Arin in.

“Hi!” the second girl greeted her, voice light and airy. “I’m Yooa. You're new this summer?”

Arin nodded, a little overwhelmed with the sudden attention. Though she was grateful. It was much better than wandering around by herself.

“You’re gonna love it,” the first girl cut in, elbow still hooked around Arin’s neck. “I’m Mimi, by the way.”

“Arin,” Arin finally got out, stammering out some mix of you don't have to and thank you when Mimi took her arm back in order to grab Arin’s heavy duffel from her.

“Geez, what's in here?” Mimi teased, making a show of hefting the bag over her shoulder.

“Books?” Arin offered, feeling a little sheepish. But she hadn’t known if she’d need them or not.

“You’re not going to have time for those,” Mimi promised.

Yooa shook her head to agree, eyes sparkling as she grinned.

This summer was going to be an adventure.

---

“He knew I was going to camp!” Seunghee, one of the girls in cabin seven, complained. “Why would he confess the day before I went to camp. Timing!”

“He wanted to claim you before you left,” Mimi told her, waggling her eyebrows as she leaned forward on her bunk.

“Well, he didn’t,” Seunghee sniffed, tossing her hair. “I told him I’d think about it.”

Arin was the youngest of the eight girls in her cabin. She’d have thought it might have been lonely being the only fourteen year old, but she actually liked all the attention she got from the older girls and the way they’d dote on her.

It turned out that the five oldest girls- Hyojung, Jine, Yooa, Mimi, and Seunghee- had all been in a cabin together the year prior. And while the two girls that were just a year older than Arin- Binnie and Jiho- hadn’t been in a cabin with the other girls, this was the second year for both of them at the camp. But instead of feeling left out, Arin was grateful for the way they had all taken her under their collective wing.

They had only been at camp for a week, and Arin already felt like she had known them for much longer.

She hated to admit it, but this summer was turning out to be a lot more fun than it would have been in her hometown.

“Did you kiss him?” Yooa wanted to know, leaning into Mimi easily since they had pushed the bunks together, the two of them giggling mischievously.

Seunghee wrinkled her nose. “No. I don’t even know if I like him.”

“Would he be your first kiss?” Hyojung, the eldest of the girls in the cabin, asked from where she was sitting next to Seunghee on her top bunk.

“Nah,” Seunghee shook her head. “There was this guy a year ago...and then spin the bottle a couple times.”

“Did you have a good first kiss?” Jiho asked, next to Arin since Jiho had offered up a seat on her top bunk. “Because mine was gross.”

“How so?” Jine wondered with a quirk of her brow and her lips already pulling up in anticipation of the story.

“I was playing truth or dare with my friends and some guys, and this guy got dared to kiss me,” Jiho told them, giggling. “And instead of just kissing me, he was trying to make out with me and, like, trying to put his tongue in my mouth.”

“You didn’t let him?” Mimi teased. “Too bad.”

Yooa hit her on the shoulder and they both cackled as Jiho made a face of disgust.

“Definitely not,” she confirmed. “I did not want to make out with him.”

“I have you beat, though,” Mimi went on. “My first kiss was when I was seven and this boy came up to me at recess and licked my face.”

Binnie squealed and covered her face with her hands as Yooa howled with laughter and fell back on the bed.

“I’m not sure that counts as a kiss, Mimi,” Hyojung pointed out wryly.

“Well, he thought it did,” she said, shuddering theatrically and smacking Yooa on the thigh when she continued to laugh.

“How about you, Arin?” Jiho asked, poking Arin in the side.

“I haven’t had mine yet,” she admitted, not embarrassed about that since she was the youngest of all of them. Who was she supposed to have kissed, anyway? There hadn’t been anyone back home she’d had a crush on.

“We can fix that,” Mimi told her, waggling her brows suggestively. “You have seven lovely candidates right in front of you.”

“You can’t just offer up my lips without my consent,” Seunghee argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I just did,” Mimi taunted playfully, sticking her tongue out at Seunghee.

But Arin missed whatever Seunghee said in retaliation because she was too busy trying to parse what Mimi had just said.

Was she seriously suggesting that Arin choose one of them to kiss in order to experience her first one? Was she kidding? Surely she was kidding. Right?

“Arin is getting all red,” Hyojung pointed out, giggling and reaching out across the span between their beds to try to get a hand on her cheek.

Of course that only had Arin blushing harder as Hyojung cooed and Jiho patted her on the back, the other girls arguing over which of them would be the best candidate.

“I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I am a good kisser,” Mimi was saying, earning herself a pillow in the face courtesy of Yooa and lots of loud dissent from Seunghee.

“I bet Jine is a good kisser,” Hyojung theorized, leaning over the edge of the bunk to look at the girl in question. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Jine chuckled, shrugging a shoulder.

“She can’t even deny it!” Jiho hooted, burying her face in Arin’s shoulder as she laughed.

“Okay, seriously,” Seunghee cut in loudly. “Who here thinks Mimi would really be a better kisser than me?”

Jiho raised her hand and earned herself a scowl from Seunghee as Mimi tackled Yooa for not casting a vote in her favor.

“I am not picking a side on this one,” Hyojung announced on a laugh, holding her hands up in innocence.

“Same!” Binnie chimed in, hugging a pillow to her chest and looking like she was ready to shield herself with it if either Mimi or Seunghee wanted to retaliate.

“It only matters what Arin thinks, anyway,” Hyojung teased, turning back to Arin with a mischievous smile.

Arin could feel her face getting hot again.

“I don’t know!” she insisted, giggling in embarrassment as she hid her face in her knees.

It wasn’t like she could just look at the other girls and decide which of them would be the best kisser. That hadn’t even crossed her mind until five minutes ago. And she still didn’t know how serious this offer was. It was very likely that it was all just an excuse to make Arin blush and for the older girls to argue in favor of their own prowess.

“I’m sure you’re all good kissers,” she added diplomatically when Jiho kept nudging her in the side and Hyojung hadn’t stopped her cooing.

Mimi booed her, and for some reason Yooa lobbed a stuffed animal at Hyojung who shrieked and threw it back, thus starting a mini stuffed animal war that lasted until their counselor came in and told them it was time for lights out.

Arin was grateful that they’d gotten off the topic of kissing since she definitely wasn’t ready to just name someone in the cabin that she wanted to kiss. Did she even want to get her first kiss over with like that? And if she did, how would she choose?

It was all a lot to think about, so she was grateful when exhaustion crept up on her and started pulling her into sleep.

Maybe everything would make more sense in the morning.

---

When she wasn’t assaulted by anyone volunteering themselves as her first kiss the next morning, Arin decided the whole conversation had probably been a joke. Which was fine. She didn’t feel particularly qualified to be picking someone to be her first kiss, anyway.

Canoeing in the morning and swimming in the afternoon went as usual, and Arin had nearly put the whole thing out of her mind by the time dinner rolled around.

“Hey,” Hyojung said, smiling at Arin and linking elbows with her after they’d both returned their dirty dishes. “Sorry for teasing so much last night.”

Hyojung was steering them away from the other girls, and Arin had to guess that was so no one would overhear.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Hyojung went on. “I just couldn't help myself. You're so cute.”

She reached up to squish Arin’s cheek with one hand, grinning up at her, and making Arin blush.

“It’s fine,” Arin told her, flapping a hand and giggling, a little pleased. She kind of liked that Hyojung thought she was cute enough to want to tease. It wasn’t like she’d been that embarrassed. It was all in good fun.

“That being said,” Hyojung went on, pointing them in the direction of their cabin, “if you do decide you want one of us to kiss you, I won’t make a big deal out of it. If you want me to and you don’t want anyone to know, that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Arin did not have a response at the ready for that.

Hyojung was offering so...that meant that, at the very least, Hyojung had been serious about their discussion the night before. She was honestly willing to give Arin her first kiss, if she wanted it.

Able to feel her cheeks burning, Arin tried to figure out what to say.

Did she want Hyojung to kiss her? Yes? Maybe? This was all very sudden, and Arin had never expected to be given so many options regarding her first kiss.

“I- can I think about it?” Arin finally got out, happy to have managed some sort of sentence with the way her mind was racing and her nerves were prickling from where Hyojung’s bare arm was rubbing up against her own.

“Of course,” Hyojung told her with a bright smile.

Arin opened her mouth to thank her, but then Binnie barreled into the pair of them, yelling something about bugs. Which made a lot more sense when Jiho raced up to them with a cricket in her hands.

Acting as a human shield between Binnie and Jiho’s outstretched hand while trying to get away from the cricket herself, Arin didn’t have any more time to think about Hyojung’s offer right then.

But she had all summer. Plenty of time to think things through.

---

“We’re stuck!” Seunghee hollered as their canoe lodged itself in the mud near the edge of the lake.

Arin tried to use her oar to push them back into deeper water, but the canoe barely moved.

“Augh!” Seunghee exclaimed, trying to shove them away from the shore with her own oar to no avail.

The canoeing instructor was currently helping Jiho and Mimi who had also managed to strand themselves on the opposite side of the lake.

“Guess we ought to get comfortable while we wait,” Seunghee announced after a few more futile jabs at the mud.

Arin sighed and rested her oar in her lap as Seunghee slumped down as well as she could in her seat.

“Oh hey!” Seunghee said, straightening up suddenly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

Usually someone telling her that they had to tell her something or needed to talk to her stressed Arin out, but Seunghee didn’t seem like she was gearing up for bad news.

“When Mimi was auctioning us all off to be your first kiss?” Seunghee started, and Arin snorted.

That maybe hadn’t been quite what happened.

When Arin nodded, Seunghee continued.

“And I was complaining that she was offering up my lips without my consent?” she went on. “I just want you to know that I wasn't objecting because I am against the idea of kissing you. I was just annoyed that I was being volunteered.”

Arin definitely hadn’t taken Seunghee bickering with Mimi as any sort of rejection.

“It’s fine!” Arin assured her. “I didn't think-”

“And just so you know,” Seunghee cut in before Arin could tell her that she wasn’t offended, “if you do want one of us to kiss you, I would do it. If you wanted me to.”

“Oh!” Arin gaped, feeling herself flush immediately. She never thought she'd have so many people offering to kiss her at any given time. What was the proper response in this situation?

“Just if it comes to that,” Seunghee told her. “I didn’t mean now.”

Arin hadn't thought she meant right that minute, but her cheeks burned to think of kissing Seunghee in the middle of the lake where they would definitely be seen by all the other girls. Seunghee cackled and reached out to pat Arin on the shoulder.

“Don’t stress out,” she told her with an amused smile. “It’s just an option.”

That was true. It was only an option. And options were good, right?

Arin just didn't know what to do with so many.

But she did know what to do when their instructor finally freed them from the mud. Or at least mostly. She and Seunghee managed to keep from getting stuck after that, so Arin was counting it as a success.

---

Arin watched as Mimi barreled over the hurdle and nearly threw herself at the slanted wall to climb it. It was the obstacle course that afternoon, and while Arin thought it was pretty fun, she didn’t have the about of gumption that Mimi did. She liked to take her time and be careful. Which, of course, resulted in a longer completion time, but she was okay with that.

“That girl is gonna break an ankle,” Jine tsked, standing next to Arin as they both waited for their turns.

Arin hummed in agreement, when Mimi stumbled a little on her ascent.

She and Jine both watched tensely as Mimi rapelled down the other side, making it to the ground safely and running for the tunnel on the ground.

“You don’t have to feel weird,” Jine said after half a minute of silence.

“Hm?”

What was she feeling weird about? Being slower at the obstacle course?

“About Mimi making a big deal about you not having had your first kiss,” Jine explained, keeping her voice down, though the yells from the other girls wouldn’t have allowed anyone to overhear, anyway. “I hadn't had mine when I was your age, either.”

Arin knew that plenty of girls her age hadn’t kissed anyone yet. And she hadn’t thought Mimi was being mean or judgmental about it. But still. It was nice to hear.

“Yeah, I just haven’t ever been in the situation where I would have had the opportunity to kiss someone. I’ve had a few crushes, but none of them have panned out,” Arin shrugged. “I’m not really in a big rush, I guess. Though...I am a little curious, of course.”

Jine smiled understandingly.

They both glanced over at the loud whoop Mimi let out upon hearing her time.

In a couple seconds, it would be Jine’s turn.

“Well, if you ever get really curious,” Jine said, reaching behind her head to tighten her short ponytail before she had to start, “let me know. I’d be happy to help.”

Arin found herself at a loss for what to say, despite having been in this situation twice before.

“And don't think this would be the first time something like this happened in this group,” she added, lips quirking as she glanced back at the end of the course where Mimi was still making a ruckus. Mimi?

But before she could inquire further, the whistle blew and Jine was off, maneuvering her way through the tires laying on the ground.

Well. That was good to know.

Arin had to admit she was warming up to the idea. But as far as whom she wanted to kiss, she still had no clue how to choose.

---

“What is wrong with Jiho?” Mimi complained, arm latched tightly to Arin’s, and she was clinging just as desperately back.

They’d just had their weekend campfire, and that week, the activity had been scary stories.

Even though she knew it was just the other campers walking behind her, Arin felt like, if she turned, she’d see a horrifying ghost preying on her. She squeezed Mimi’s arm even tighter.

“She wasn’t scared at all!” Mimi went on. “She just looked like she was having a grand old time. Meanwhile, the rest of us who are normal are terrified.” She sighed.

Arin was pretty jealous of Jiho’s immunity to ghost stories because she had a feeling that she was going to have trouble sleeping.

Happy thoughts, she tried to coach herself as they walked through the dark to get back to their cabin. But she couldn't stop picturing the wide, unseeing eyes of the little girl ghost that had been featured in one of the stories.

With Mimi clutching her arm, Arin was suddenly reminded of Jine’s mysterious statement the other day. And at least that was something to occupy her mind.

Any distractions from the rustling of leaves in the night wind was welcome.

“I was talking to Jine the other day about…” Arin trailed off, a little embarrassed to be the one bringing it up, “about me not having had my first kiss? And the idea of kissing someone here?”

Arin hoped that Mimi didn’t think she was begging for a kiss. Not that kissing Mimi would be a bad thing. And she did want a distraction. But she definitely didn’t want to seem needy, and she’d hate for Mimi to feel like she was put on the spot.

“Yeah?” Mimi replied, lips pulling up a little- probably at the memory of her own teasing.

“She said that it wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened here?” Arin went on, deciding not to mention the fact that Jine’s gaze made Arin think that Mimi was directly involved. “What did she mean by that?”

Mimi’s steps faltered slightly before she sped up, pulling Arin along with her down the path toward the cabins.

“I don’t know,” she replied, though Arin could see the flush on her cheeks, even in the dark. “I mean, I’m sure that kind of thing happens all the time, you know? I bet some other cabin is having the same kind of discussions.”

That was probably true, but definitely not what Jine had been talking about.

But if Mimi didn’t want to elaborate, Arin wasn’t going to force her. It wasn’t her business, even though she was incredibly curious.

“Why? Didja want me to kiss you?” Mimi asked, smile mischievous and familiar, teasing tone back in her voice. “Ey? Eey?”

Mimi was nudging into Arin’s shoulder with her own and waggling her eyebrows, and since they were still linked at the elbow, Arin couldn’t even get away.

Whining, Arin smacked Mimi lightly on her arm with her free hand, and Mimi laughed.

“The offer remains open,” she said, grinning at Arin as their cabin came into view before adding in a sing-song voice, “Let me know.”

Another offer.

Arin started to huff about Mimi’s teasing, but a loud boo from behind them had them both shrieking and clinging tighter to one another.

A cackling Jiho fall into step with them, and Mimi cursed, reaching out to try to swipe at her.

But Jiho was already skipping away, probably looking for another victim.

“If she tries to pull anything tonight, I’m gonna punch her,” Mimi grumbled, keeping Arin close even as they entered their cabin.

Of course, when they were all in bed and the lights were out, Jiho had started making ghostly noises. Though she didn’t get punched, she did get a pillow to the face.

And even though Jiho wasn’t particularly perturbed, laughing through it all, Arin thought it was a pretty just punishment.

---

Arin’s flip flops thwacked against the floor as she walked to the bathroom, the sound of the shower audible through the closed door. After Binnie was done with her shower, it would finally be Arin’s turn to wash the grime and dirt of the day away.

Bouncing her shower caddy against her knee, she blew out a stream of air that ruffled her bangs. Even though there would be the inevitable hour or so of talking after Arin was out of the shower and they were all getting ready to turn in, Arin was just looking forward to climbing in bed. They’d been on a long hike that afternoon, and their morning had been spent swimming. Laying down would be heaven.

“Arin!” Jiho trilled, skipping up behind her and throwing her arms over her shoulders so she was plastered against her back.

“Careful!” Arin warned, laughing even as she used a hand to make sure Jiho’s jostling didn’t make her towel fall down.

“Oops!” Jiho giggled, moving her arms to Arin’s waist and notching her chin over Arin’s shoulder so her slightly damp hair brushed against Arin’s arms.

Jiho had borrowed Yooa’s hair dryer to dry her hair, but she tended to get bored and give up before her long hair was completely dry.

“Pervert,” Arin grumbled teasingly, holding her towel against her chest just to be safe.

“Oh hey!” Jiho exclaimed, lifting her head from where it had been resting. “Speaking of that!”

“Speaking of being a pervert?” Arin asked incredulously, turning her head to see Jiho grinning at her own segue.

“Kind of,” Jiho said with a shrug, still holding onto Arin’s middle. “About your first kiss? I’ll do it, you know.”

She said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Like it was as simple as offering Arin half of her cookie at dinner. Which she had never done because Jiho was usually the one trying to beg extra dessert off the other girls.

“I won’t even lick your face like Mimi had done to her,” Jiho added. “I promise.”

Arin barked out a laugh, smacking at Jiho’s hand where it rested against her belly.

“I guess that’s comforting,” she said, overwhelmed by yet another offer to be her first kiss, but still at ease since Jiho was so…Jiho about it.

“It is,” Jiho confirmed with a giggle. “You do not want someone licking your face, trust me.”

That seemed reasonable. Arin definitely was going to take Jiho’s word on that.

“Shower’s free,” Binnie announced, emerging from the bathroom in her pajamas with a towel in her hair.

“Let go,” Arin complained when Jiho didn’t immediately release her.

“I don’t think there’s room for two people,” Binnie observed with a quirk of her brow.

“Jiho is not invited to my shower!” Arin announced, finally untangling herself from Jiho’s hold and shuffling toward the bathroom with Jiho’s laughter echoing behind her.

Arin smiled to herself. She had really gotten lucky as far as cabin mates were concerned. Never in a million years would she have anticipated liking the girls she was staying with so much.

Of course she also never would have dreamed that five of them would have offered to be her first kiss.

That was a different issue entirely.

---

“Sleeve hitting game, sleeve hitting game,” Yooa sang, walking next to Arin and continually hitting her with the dangling sleeves of the sweatshirt Yooa had tied around her waist.

They were on their way to the archery field on the outskirts of the camp which meant they had at least five more minutes of walking ahead of them.

Arin wondered if Yooa was planning on continuing her “game” the whole way there.

“Mimi,” Arin whined, calling for the older girl who was a few yards ahead of them. “Make her stop.”

Yooa cackled and Mimi just raised her eyebrows, slowing her pace slightly.

“You’re on your own, kid,” Mimi told her with a laugh before jogging to catch back up with Hyojung.
Arin whined again for good measure as Yooa continued to hit her with her sweat shirt sleeves.

“Or we can play another game!” Yooa announced cutely, resting her arms on Arin’s shoulder while still managing to walk alongside her. “The kissing game!”

With that, she leaned up so her mouth hovered right next to Arin’s ear and made a loud kissing sound with her lips.

Then she repeated the same thing with her lips nearly touching Arin’s cheek.

“Why?” Arin whined, not knowing quite how to respond to such attention, and also a little annoyed because she was just trying to walk and Yooa clinging to her was making it much more difficult. Though she couldn’t be too frustrated since Yooa was actually adorable.

“Because it’s fun,” Yooa trilled, doing more air kisses in the direction of Arin’s face.

Arin resigned herself to her fate.

“Or we can play a real kissing game,” Yooa added after a minute, apparently getting tired of her own game since Arin wasn’t reacting nearly so much anymore.

Glancing over at her, Yooa was smiling innocently, but her eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“If you want, we can get your first kiss out of the way right now,” Yooa suggested, kissing right next to Arin’s ear again.

Arin covered her face with her hands, embarrassed, and Yooa giggled.

“So cute,” she said, ruffling Arin’s hair before finally unlatching herself from Arin’s side. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

With that, she scampered off to catch up with Jine, and Arin was left with the knowledge that she had yet another option for her first kiss.

Surely first kisses weren’t meant to be this complicated?

With three weeks left of camp, Arin felt like she should try to make a decision soon, though she had no idea how to even begin.

Maybe she should suggest the girls all play rock, paper, scissors to battle it out. But as entertaining as that might be, it wasn’t very romantic.

Arin sighed as she trudged up the dirt path.

Hopefully the answer would come to her.

---

Arin rested her head in the crook of her arms, relaxing at one of the picnic tables outside during their free hour before dinner.

It was hot out, but not as hot as it had been. And there was a breeze, so it was comfortable to just sit outside and let the evening sun fall on her shoulders.

Mimi was next to her, drumming out a beat on the table and humming under her breath, and though the vibrations through the wood under Arin’s head was a little bothersome, she liked having the company. Even though they were both in their own little worlds.

Arin was wondering if she could doze off, and if so, would someone wake her up for dinner. But that thought became moot when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

“Arin?”

Looking up and blinking against the sudden brightness, Arin saw Binnie standing next to her, chewing on her lower lip.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Arin nodded, scooting over so Binnie would be able to sit down too, but Binnie remained standing.

“Over there?” she said, gesturing away from the picnic table.

Mimi stopped her drumming, looking intrigued.

“Okay,” Arin agreed, standing up and following Binnie to the edge of the treeline in an area where there weren’t a bunch of girls congregated.

“Uh…” Binnie began, looking unsure of herself. Which was strange. Binnie was usually pretty straightforward in what she said and she rarely seemed shy.

Arin wondered what could have her seeming so nervous.

“Um,” she started again. “I was wondering...”

Binnie’s eyes darted up to meet Arin’s, looking back to the side before settling on her face- like Binnie was forcing herself to keep eye contact.

“..if I could kiss you.”

Arin felt her brows jump.

While she had been offered a first kiss by every other girl in their cabin aside from Binnie, none of them had phrased it quite like that.

Arin couldn’t help the little extra thump her heart gave.

“Why...why does everyone want my first kiss?” she wondered out loud, not knowing how else to respond.

Binnie’s cheeks were flushed as she looked up at Arin through her lashes- black bangs curling delicately at her brows.

“I was actually hoping you’d be mine,” she said softly, watching for Arin’s reaction to that carefully.

Truthfully, it took Arin a second to absorb that since she hadn’t expected it.

She supposed that Binnie hadn’t jumped in with any first kiss stories when they had been talking about it. But she hadn’t given it any thought at the time since she was being bombarded by, at the time, possible teasing offers to kiss her.

But Binnie wasn’t offering to do her a favor. Binnie wasn’t even asking for a favor. She was just...hoping for a kiss.

Arin could feel the way her heart was pounding in her chest, stomach swirling with butterflies, and this...this was how she’d always imagined her first kiss going. Not a well-meaning offer that had been carefully weighed and arranged. Just a person wanting to kiss her, and her wanting to kiss them, too.

That realization settled as Arin took a deep breath. She did want to kiss Binnie.

The answer had come to her after all.

“Okay,” she agreed, belatedly noticing that she was nearly whispering.

Binnie looked surprised for a second before she smiled, taking a tentative step forward with a determined look in her eye.

The press of Binnie’s lips against hers was warm and light- like the summer wind that blew through their hair in the second that they remained in the liplock.

It wasn’t some sort of revelation- Arin didn’t feel like a changed person. But it was undeniably nice.

When Binnie pulled back, eyes soft and questioning, Arin couldn’t help the quick kiss she pressed to Binnie’s lips before she giggled.

First and second kiss accomplished in one fell swoop.

Binnie was grinning at her, and Arin knew that she had made the right choice.

When the dinner bell rang, Binnie’s hand was clasped around hers as they made their way to the dining hall.

Arin knew that she would remember that evening forever.

---

“I still can’t believe you picked Binnie,” Mimi complained when they were back in their cabin that night. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with her. But you have no idea what you’re missing.”

With that, gestured to herself and was met with a chorus of groans and jeers. Mimi stuck her tongue out at all of them.

“I think they’re cute,” Yooa cooed, leaning into Mimi’s side as she smiled down at Arin and Binnie on Binnie’s bottom bunk.

Arin covered her flushed cheeks with her hands and Binnie threw a stuffed bunny in retaliation for being stared at.

“They are!” Hyojung agreed, looking at them like they were precious.

Binnie didn’t have anything to throw that time, so she just grumbled instead.

Fortunately, the conversation eventually was directed elsewhere and Arin could relax as the girls shared stories about some of the senior pranks they’d seen executed at their high schools.

Unsurprisingly, most of the older girls had plans for their upcoming senior year, and they took turns sharing what they wanted to do.

Mimi’s plan involving chickens didn’t seen the most realistic, but Arin liked the way it had Binnie tossing her head back as she laughed unabashedly- one of her hands resting comfortably on Arin’s knee.

When the summer had just begun, Arin had known that it was going to be an adventure. What that adventure would entail, however, she’d had no idea.

It was safe to say that she hadn’t expected to be inundated with offers to be her first kiss. She also hadn’t expected to experience such a knee-weakening one.

The summer was starting to near its end, and Arin had to admit that she wasn’t eager to return back home.

With Binnie’s chin notched over her shoulder, Arin reminded herself of something very important.

There was always next summer.

unnideul deadline extension

unnimod — Thu, 18 Aug 2016 23:18:37 GMT

Participants, please check your email for an important update about our extended deadline!

unnideul fic exchange sign-ups (CLOSED)

unnimod — Tue, 07 Jun 2016 04:24:47 GMT

(information + contact / sign-ups)

Please familiarize yourself with our fic exchange rules before signing up!

To sign up, please fill out this form and comment below (comments are screened) or send an email to unnideul@gmail.com. Remember, you must indicate three separate prompts to sign up. Feel free to add more, but three is the minimum. See our sample sign-up for more information about the form. You will be able to edit your sign-up until sign-ups close on June 18.

As a reminder, this is an exchange for girl groups and female soloists. Femslash, het, and gen are allowed but the main focus of your prompt must be a female artist.

Sign-ups will be open from Thursday, June 9 to Saturday, June 18.

Requested groups: 4Minute, A Pink, After School, CLC, EXID, Fiestar, f(x), Girl's Day, KARA, Mamamoo, Nine Muses, Oh My Girl, Rainbow, Red Velvet, Secret, Twice, Wonder Girls

SIGN-UPS ARE CLOSED!

unnideul summer fic exchange 2016

unnimod — Tue, 07 Jun 2016 03:10:00 GMT

(information + contact / sign-ups / gif credit)

unnideul is hosting our third fic exchange, running from June to September 2016!

INFORMATION
This is a fic exchange, meaning that you are signing up to both write a fic based on another participant's prompts and receive fic based on your own prompts as provided in the sign-up form. The mods will match participants based on their requested pairings and prompts, and you will be writing an original, completed fic based on your recipient's requests.

Authors will remain anonymous until the completion of fic posting. We ask that you refrain from posting about your fic in public or on social network sites where your recipient might see. During posting, your fic will be posted for you to the community. If you have any questions for your recipient (such as clarification on a prompt or squicks not listed in their sign-up), please contact a mod and we will reach out to them on your behalf.

The primary means of communication for this exchange is email (unnideul@gmail.com). Assignments, check-in, and any instructions or announcements will be emailed. In addition, reminders and announcements will be posted on our twitter feed (@unnideulfic) and the community. You do not need a livejournal account to participate in this exchange.

There will be one check-in halfway into the writing period. You will not be required to submit a draft. If at any point it becomes necessary for you to drop out, please let a mod know as soon as possible so that we can arrange a pinch hit.

FIC GUIDELINES
This is an exchange for pan-Asian girl groups and female artists. Femslash, gen, and het are allowed. Slash and idol/reader fics are not permitted.

Completed fics must be at least 500 words. We encourage the use of betas/proofreaders; please let the mods know if you are in need of a beta and we will arrange one for you. You must submit your completed fic by August 19.

SCHEDULE
Sign-ups: June 9 - 18
Assignments: by June 21
Check-in: July 22
Fics due: August 29
Posting: begins September 5

CONTACT A MOD
If you have any questions that have not been answered in this post or you require any assistance, please email us at unnideul@gmail.com, comment on this post, or send us a PM. Email is the fastest way to reach us.

We are on twitter at @unnideulfic.

Our prompt posts will continue to be posted biweekly until posting begins.

unnideul 2015 reveals & masterpost

unnimod — Fri, 10 Jul 2015 00:05:02 GMT

First off, I would like to thank everyone for their patience over the course of our exchange. Despite several delays, our participants have been accommodating and enthusiastic, which has been greatly appreciated. I would also like to thank our pinch hitters, rules1through8 and an anonymous user, for stepping in as needed.

This year we had eleven fics representing six different girl groups.

Onto the reveals!

day one: 13 Flown for bluedreaming written by nachtegael | f(x), Amber (Amber/Krystal, Baekhyun/Taeyeon), PG-13
"Let me just say it's a bad idea, my friend. It'll wreck you if you have a summer fling and fall for her along the way..."

day two: Tell Me What Happened to the American Dream for 921227 written by thunggyu | KARA, Gyuri (Gyuri/Seungyeon), PG-13
Moving to Los Angeles with her best friend is Gyuri’s dream coming to life. Dreams, she will learn later, are sometimes better left untouched.

day three: bubblegum heart for everyone written by ninemused | Lovelyz, Mijoo/Babysoul, PG
Here it was, a month or two until they’d stand on stage for the first time, until they’d be real idols, with all the responsibility it would entail. It’s Mijoo’s twenty-first birthday and Soojung is still asleep in her bedroom down the hall.

day four: Love Stories from a Simcard for ninemused written by chanyeolanda | AOA, Choa/Seolhyun, PG-13
Phone numbers are so easy to get wrong.

day five: Second Impressions for thunggyu written by x_disturbed_x | KARA, Nicole/Gyuri, G
Nicole is eager to prove herself to one Park Gyuri, a popular blogger.

day six: Warm Velvet for x_disturbed_x written by bluedreaming | Red Velvet, Yeri, PG-13
Yeri thinks she knows what she wants to be when she grows up.

day seven: Everlasting Warmth for chanyeolanda written by tide_ms | Nine Muses, Kyungri/Hyemi, PG-13
To her, Hyemi was like Kryptonite to Superman. Except, Hyemi didn't weaken her, she overwhelmed her with an inescapable warmth.

day eight: and they call it puppy love for kisoap written by 921227 | Red Velvet, Seulgi/Wendy, PG
who needs a matchmaker when you have a dog?

day nine: Side by Side in this Gentle Descent for tide_ms written by rules1through8 | Nine Muses, Hyuna/Sungah, PG-13
Hyuna saves the world and Sungah's along for the ride.

day ten: que sera, sera for everyone written by kisoap | Nine Muses, Minha, PG-13
Nine Muses suddenly isn’t nine anymore and Minha doesn’t feel anything. Minha doesn’t know what to feel.

day eleven: échappé for nachtegael written by an anonymous user | Red Velvet, Irene/Seulgi (Irene/Victoria), PG-13
To evade.

day eleven: "échappé" for nachtegael

unnimod — Tue, 07 Jul 2015 06:39:19 GMT

Title: échappé
Recipient: nachtegael
Group and pairing: Red Velvet, Irene/Seulgi (Irene/Victoria)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of various injuries, dieting.
Summary: To evade. (Ballet AU, ~4k)
Author's notes: Sorry about the wait ;__; I originally conceived this to have more of the stronger themes from your prompts but because of time constraints those ideas weren't able to flourish like I'd hoped. Thank you for giving such interesting prompts to work with, I hope you like this. Thanks friends for helping me look over this.

I did a lot of research (too much, probably) for this fic but some details have been fudged to fit the story as needed. I am not a physical therapist. All ages in this fic are based on international ages.

It's Seulgi who picks her out.

"I think I found someone," she says, tapping on her iPad screen. Joohyun cranes her neck from the end of the couch to look, but all she can see is her own disgruntled reflection. She shrugs, and goes back to practicing her arm positions for the second act of Don Quixote. It's only been a week since her last rehearsal and she is already restless.

"Experience, new techniques, good reviews," Seulgi lists off. "That's what you wanted, right? Should I call her tomorrow and set up an appointment?"

What Joohyun wants is another dose of painkillers, but she's got another hour before Seulgi will deliver the next dose, along with something sweet that Joohyun will attempt to turn down in accordance with her diet and will probably end up eating anyway.

When Joohyun doesn't give a response, Seulgi sets the iPad down on the table. "Babe, I know this sucks, but the doctor said you could be in physical therapy within a week. Then you'll be back before you know it." Seulgi reaches for Joohyun's hands, stilling them. "And stop doing The Nutcracker."

"It's Don Quixote," Joohyun says, smiling despite herself. "Sometimes I feel like you don't pay attention to my dancing."

"Who? Me?" Seulgi says, shifting until she is horizontal on the couch, careful not to jostle Joohyun's bandaged knee. She wraps her arms around Joohyun's middle, and Joohyun automatically nuzzles into her neck. "I love everything you do. I'm your number one fan."

Joohyun sighs "Give me a day to sulk, okay? I'll call the therapist tomorrow."

"Everything's going to work out," Seulgi reaffirms. Joohyun wishes she could believe her.

╬

It's the classic tale—an overbearing mother forces her own failed ballet dreams onto her daughter. For every girl who makes it to 30, there's a dozen more who never make it past rehearsals and when they have their own little girls, the pointe shoes and tutus are primed and ready.

Age eight, when she would rather join S.E.S than Swan Lake, is the first time Joohyun breaks a toe. Her mother starts her on a diet the next day and Joohyun gets a lesson in dancing through pain.

Pain, any kind of pain. Sprained ankles, cracked toenails, stress fractures. The pain of rejection. The heartbreak that comes when the lead role goes to another girl over you.

Joohyun is four hours into a six hour rehearsal when she feels it. Coming out of a pas de ciseaux, she knows before her foot even hits the ground that she's messed it up. She lands with her knee twisted and when her momentum stalls, she crumples to the ground with a cry.

A large tear in the lateral meniscus, the company doctor tells her. Surgery within a week and then six to eight weeks of physical therapy. He says some other things, but Joohyun tunes him out after six to eight weeks. Two months, and their winter production is approaching fast.

"It's not a death sentence," the doctor tells her, gently.

But it is. Joohyun is twenty five years old and her time is running out.

╬

When it comes time for her first appointment, Joohyun has to convince Seulgi that she doesn't need any assistance. "You can't skip another day of class," she says, lacing up her sneakers at the door. She can see Seulgi itching to help her, but Joohyun shoots her a look. She's already had one stage mom, and she certainly doesn't need another.

Seulgi frowns. "For you I can."

"Seriously," Joohyun says, "I'll be fine."

After navigating the subway with crutches, however, Joohyun almost wishes she had taken her up on the offer anyway. Being jostled around by uncaring commuters does nothing to ease her apprehension and by the time she is seated in the clinic waiting room, her dread feels palpable. Thankfully it isn't long before she hears a voice across the lobby calling, "Bae Joohyun?"

Her therapist. Victoria Song, born in Qingdao, studied at the prestigious Beijing Dance Academy and spent three years in the Guangzhou Ballet before moving on to the Korea National Ballet at 19. Joohyun knows this because she has reread the About Our Therapists page three times in preparation for her appointment, but even if she hadn't, Victoria's dance background is immediately plain. She carries herself with her back straight, neck elongated, and her feet sweeping smoothly across the floor like she's performing a glissade on stage instead of a stuffy waiting room.

Joohyun belatedly remembers that her name was called. "Right here."

"Follow me," Victoria says, already turning on her heel toward the clinic doors and leaving Joohyun to hobble behind her.

In the exam room, Joohyun sits at the end of the table, conscious of her posture as she waits for Victoria to finish skimming through her file. "Lateral meniscus tear in the left knee," Victoria reads. "Have you ever had any problems with this knee before?"

"It locks up on me sometimes," Joohyun says, thinking back to her classes. Only minor pains, barely distinguishable from the typical ache of practice.

"When you jump? Doing turns?" Victoria asks, and Joohyun nods. "A very common injury. We will work on proper landing technique during our sessions."

"Um, how long do you think it will take? To get back in rehearsals?"

Victoria swivels around in her chair to face Joohyun. She gives Joohyun a long, sweeping look and Joohyun finds herself squirming under Victoria's strict gaze. She is beautiful, almost intimidatingly so, everything about her suggesting some kind of innate, untouchable gracefulness.

"Let me guess, The Nutcracker?" Victoria asks. "I thought so. Unfortunately there isn't a magic answer. It could be six weeks. It could be longer. You could never regain the strength you need."

Joohyun feels the word never like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut. "Is that likely?" she asks. Her voice shakes.

"With any injury in ballet, it's a possibility, and you should prepare yourself for it," Victoria says. Her expression is kinder now, a touch sympathetic. "But what we do know is that your progress will be determined by your own hard work. You have to commit one hundred percent of yourself to getting better. Can you do that?"

"I have to."

Joohyun returns to the apartment hours later with her knee throbbing and her armpits sore from the crutches. She finds herself hesitating in the entryway, her eyes falling on the hook where her ballet bag should be hanging. The day after her accident, she'd stuffed it in the back of the closet to avoid having to look at her untouched pointe shoes. Joohyun doesn't let herself sulk, though, not tonight.

Seulgi is dozing on the couch, a psychology textbook open on her stomach. Joohyun doesn't mean to wake her, but she stirs when Joohyun settles down next to her.

"Mmhm, hey," Seulgi say sleepily, blinking her eyes as Joohyun smooths a hand over her hair. "How was the consultation?"

"It was good," Joohyun says, "I mean, I'm trying to be positive. She didn't say I was hopeless or anything."

"Victoria? How was she?"

Joohyun thinks of the slender column of Victoria's neck. "She was experienced, like you said. I think we'll work well together."

Seulgi smiles. "That's great, I'm so happy."

"Yeah. She gave me some stretches to work on before our next session/"

"Do you, uh," Seulgi says, elbowing Joohyun lightly, "want some help with those?"

There's a lump forming in Joohyun's throat, something that feels a lot like guilt, but she swallows it down as she leans in to press a kiss against Seulgi's open mouth.

╬

Having been warned by the ballet doctor that the second week of therapy is the worst, Joohyun isn't sure what to expect when Victoria has her lying down on the table in the training room.

"No more bandages, no more crutches. Now the real work begins," Victoria says, laughing when Joohyun lifts her head up enough to shoot Victoria a worried look. "Don't worry, just a few stretches to start off."

When Victoria reaches for her brace, Joohyun is keenly aware of her body's instinctive urge to draw her knee in and away from Victoria's touch. Her bandages are off and her stitches are out, but it still feels very much like an open wound, something raw. As Victoria loosens the velcro straps to remove the brace, all Joohyun sees is the angry red scar along her kneecap.

"Bend your right knee and lift your left leg," Victoria instructs. "Thirty centimeters, and hold it for five seconds and then bring it back down slowly. Ten repetitions."

It hurts, even this small movement, the pain radiating through her knee and up her thigh. She's had her knee cut open and stitched back together, of course it fucking hurts. Ten repetitions later and she is gritting her teeth.

"Good, now do four more sets of ten. Then we'll do some lateral step-ups."

Joohyun soon understands why the second week is the worst. Victoria pushes her hard through the intermediate exercises, gentle demeanor from their first week's beginner stretches gone. Her tone isn't unlike Joohyun's ballet teachers, always striving for a higher leap, a more precise turn. Ballet dancers are no strangers to harsh critique.

Her shoulders sag visibly with relief when Victoria declares they've had enough for one session, guiding her back to the table.

"Now's the good part," Victoria says.

"There's a good part?" Joohyun asks, slightly dubious.

"Massage therapy," Victoria says, rubbing her hand against Joohyun's thigh to demonstrate. "Reducing your muscle tension should help ease your pain a little bit."

Her touch is firm, the heel of her palm pressing into Joohyun's tender muscles as she works her way up Joohyun's thigh. It's just shy of painful, though this time it's the good kind of pain.

"Turn over onto your stomach," Victoria instructs, breaking Joohyun out of her daze.

Joohyun feels Victoria's hand higher up now, one hand bracing against her hip and the other curving around her upper thigh. The touch is professional, but Joohyun can't help the shiver that runs through her body as Victoria's slender fingers brush against her inner thigh. She only hopes Victoria doesn't notice.

It's harder to relax now. Joohyun presses her face into the table to hide her flushed cheeks. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the clock, watching the minutes since their session was supposed to end tick by. She should say something, let Victoria know, but Joohyun can't bear to make her stop. Victoria's touch feels like an indulgence, like a cheat day on her diet.

"Oh shoot," Victoria says, "I let the time get away. Yujin must be waiting on me. Same time Wednesday?"

Joohyun's skin tingles in the absence of Victoria's hands.

╬

Seulgi is the first person Joohyun meets who doesn't know a pas de bourrée from a grand jeté.

A slight exaggeration, but that's what it feels like sometimes, like Joohyun had never met anyone completely removed from the world of dance until she was 21 years old.

She takes the same bus home from rehearsal every night, the circle line to Sinjeong, always one of the last trains of the night. Her commute lasts just long enough for Joohyun to begin dozing off, though not as long as the bus from Daegu when her mom used take her to Seoul for auditions on the weekend. Her fear of missing her stop usually keeps Joohyun coherent enough to listen for the train announcements, but she must be even more tired than usual one night, because it isn't the robotic female voice that wakes her up. Instead, a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss? Your stop is next."

Joohyun opens her eyes to find the girl looking at her cautiously. She has her hair up in a ponytail tonight and it draws attention to her pointed ears. Joohyun thinks it's cute.

It's the same girl who gets on one stop after Joohyun and departs in Sinjeong, though when Joohyun turns left, the girl turns right. Joohyun doesn't make a habit of staring at strangers, but for weeks she has been watching the girl studying, always a different textbook. She gets on at the university, Joohyun knows. It's easy to imagine her as a typical college student, the kind of life Joohyun would have if it wasn't for ballet.

The familiar transfer station music plays over the speakers and Joohyun realizes she is still staring at the girl.

"Thank you for waking me up," she says as they step out onto the platform together. This station is never not busy, even at this hour, and they are pressed elbow to elbow as they walk.

"You were really tired tonight, did you have a long day? Rehearsal?"

"You have no idea," Joohyun says, groaning. "This is the hardest production I've ever- wait, how did you know?"

The girl waves her hands frantically. "I'm not creepy, I swear. You just always wear that t-shirt, the National Ballet one?"

"Observant," Joohyun says. "You caught me."

"Well, one of us has to stay awake somehow." She ducks her head sheepishly. "Wow, pretend like I didn't say that. I'm Kang Seulgi, by the way."

"Bae Joohyun."

When they depart soon after, Joohyun heads left and Seulgi heads right, but Joohyun doesn't get too far before she hears Seulgi's voice calling out, "See you next week, unnie!"

The next time Joohyun sees her Seulgi is the one with drooping eyelids, slouching down in the seat next to Joohyun. "You can sleep this time," Joohyun says, "I'll wake you up."

Seulgi cracks open an eye, smiling. "But what if you fall asleep too and then we both miss our stop?"

"Then we end up at City Hall," Joohyun says cheerfully.

From there it's easy, a simple box step. Nothing is ever easy for Joohyun, but Seulgi is. It takes two more shared rides for Seulgi to walk Joohyun home—"Shouldn't I be the one walking you home? I'm the unnie." "But you're smaller."— and another five for Joohyun to shyly slip her hand into Seulgi's.

Two more and Seulgi kisses her in an alley, not exactly the picture of romance but Joohyun will never forget the press of brick against her back, the scrape of Seulgi's tennis shoes as she leaned in.

All Joohyun could think then was how remarkable it was to find someone who loved her for herself.

╬

Four weeks into therapy, Joohyun hits a wall.

Until now, progress has been slow but steady enough to abate some of Joohyun's anxiety. It's when she begins dancing again with regularity that Joohyun can tell how much further she has to go, how much more strength she has left to regain.

Her jumps are weak, her landings still inconsistent even with Victoria's hands around her for support. Her range of movement is half of what it needs to be to even think about getting up on a stage again.

There's a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that says this injury has torn something else, ripped her to shreds. It makes Joohyun want to scream.

Her bad mood follows her home. Joohyun can hear Seulgi puttering around in the kitchen from the entryway and she pauses, leaning against the door and wishing she could have just a moment alone.

"Is that you?" Seulgi calls out. "Are you hungry?"

The empty hook seems to be taunting her tonight. Joohyun trudges through to the living room. "Not right now."

"Are you sure? I can heat something up for you if you want. And then I was thinking we could watch that Alice in Wonderland performance on DVD, isn't that one your fave-"

Seulgi must sense Joohyun's mood because she cuts herself off, coming around the kitchen counter to look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Joohyun lies.

"Did you have a bad session or something?"

"What do you think?"

Seulgi opens her mouth and closes it once, twice. "I don't know," she says, "because you don't tell me anything about your sessions anymore. The last update I had two weeks ago and you told me you were doing great."

"Well I'm not, okay?" Joohyun says, dragging her palm over her face. She's tired, she just wants to go to bed right now before the sun has even set. "Just drop it."

"Okay," Seulgi says after a long exhale. She reaches for Joohyun's hand. "You should relax, maybe it would help if we watched that performance."

Joohyun jerks her hand out of Seulgi's grasp. "I don't want to watch any performances," she snaps, "I don't want to watch people do what I am never going to be able to do again."

"You don't know that. Why do you keep saying that? Why do you keep acting so fatalistic about this?"

"Because it is fatalistic! Ballet is my life," Joohyun stresses.

"But it's not all you are! People lose jobs all the time, people change careers," Seulgi says, groaning. "It happens."

Joohyun shakes her head. "You don't get it," she says. She can feel the next four words forming on the back of her tongue, passing through her teeth before she has a chance to stop them. "Victoria would get it."

"Then go talk to Victoria about it," Seulgi scoffs, throwing her hands in the air.

She doesn't quite storm off but it's something close, the maddest Joohyun has ever seen her in four years. Seulgi lets the door slam shut behind her and at once Joohyun's knees go weak. She lets herself sink down to the floor.

For the first time since her fall, Joohyun cries.

╬

They don't talk about it. Not that night, at least. Joohyun waits out on the couch until she is sure Seulgi has fallen asleep and only then does she crawl into bed. It's well into the night before she can finally fall asleep herself.

The next morning Joohyun wakes up to find Seulgi gone. Not gone gone, Joohyun knows that Wednesdays are Seulgi's earliest day of class. Normally Joohyun is the early riser, stirring at the first bit of sunlight through the curtains, but today she managed to even sleep through Seulgi getting ready for class.

Joohyun rolls over, burying her face in Seulgi's pillow. Her stomach is knotted up with guilt and some residual frustration. Maybe it's good Seulgi has already left so Joohyun won't end up picking another fight she doesn't mean.

Go talk to Victoria about it, Seulgi had said, but when Joohyun gets to physical therapy, she finds herself more quiet than usual.

They go through a simple routine together, steps that remind Joohyun of her first classes after getting her pointe shoes. For as unnatural as pointe dancing is, putting on her shoes again feels like coming home. She'll take this familiar, even fond pain over the pain of the unknown any day.

Victoria's hands support her through a few of the more intermediate steps. A hand against her back for balance, another on her leg to demonstrate the proper technique.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Joohyun speaks up finally as their session winds down.

"Of course," says Victoria.

"About...your injury?"

Victoria gives her a wry smile. "It always comes up at some point, doesn't it?" she says. "Let's take a break."

They sit with their backs to the mirror. Even then, Victoria doesn't slouch. "We're probably not so different, me and you," she tells Joohyun. "I danced my whole life. I came to Korea when I was nineteen and I didn't speak a word of Korean then, but dance, it's its own language. I thought I could make it here, maybe be a principal one day. I was good. But I only made it three years."

"What happened?"

"First I ruptured my achilles tendon and it was getting better, I was getting better, and then I tore my ACL." Victoria sighs, staring straight out into the room. "At that point, the doctors told me I should quit. They didn't want me tempting fate."

It's Joohyun who reaches for Victoria this time, a hand on her knee. "How did you decide to go into physical therapy?"

"I danced for almost twenty years, you know? I couldn't turn off that part of my brain. I lived dance. I couldn't see myself doing anything else. An office job? I couldn't. One of the teachers thought I might be good at physical therapy, so I decided to enroll in a program. I think I'd like to teach someday, maybe."

"And you were okay with it?" Joohyun asks, hesitant.

"No," Victoria says. Joohyun holds back a gasp.

Victoria shakes her head, letting out a small laugh. "It's been six years, almost seven and I still don't think I am okay with it. You girls who do ballet, it's all you see. No other future. It's not realistic. That's what I would go back and tell myself."

She glances over at Joohyun. "Was that depressing? I'm sorry, I don't want you to give up. I just think you should be know what could happen."

Joohyun's heart is caught in her throat. She's looking at Victoria, but all she can think of is Seulgi. "No," she says after a long moment, "I think that's what I needed to hear."

╬

She texts Seulgi after her appointment. if you're still at school, can you meet me at the opera house?

Seulgi texts back soon after. I'll be there in 30 minutes.

It'll take her closer to an hour, Joohyun knows, so she sits back on the steps and watches the tourists milling about and the mothers walking their children home from school.

Two years ago Joohyun had her first performance in the Opera Theater as part of the Korea National Ballet. The culmination of 18 years of hard work, and it was everything she dreamed of. Seulgi didn't bring flowers to the performance, not with Joohyun's parents and her whole company there, but the next day Joohyun woke up to a bouquet delivered to her door.

Seulgi makes it in just under an hour. Joohyun sees a familiar approaching and her throat clenches, but she forces a smile, or something like a smile, and pats the step next to her.

"How was school?" Joohyun asks as Seulgi drops her backpack and joins Joohyun.

"You know, school. We're working on test creation now," Seulgi says. Her tone isn't exactly mean, but it's distant. Joohyun doesn't blame her. "How was your session today?"

"Better than yesterday."

"That's good."

There's a pause, and Joohyun knows what needs to come next. She takes a deep breath to steel herself. "I'm sorry," she says, reaching out to take Seulgi's hand in her own. "For yesterday. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I didn't…It was unfair of me. You were just trying to help."

Seulgi drops her head down with a sigh. "I'm sorry too, it's just so frustrating." Joohyun's heart stops in the miserably long second it takes Seulgi to continue, "I don't know how to help you. I can't understand what you're going through, but I know how much ballet means to you."

"It feels like I might be losing everything. Everything except for you." She squeezes her fingers around Seulgi's hand like a lifeline. "And I don't want to lose you too."

Though her eyes are sad, Seulgi gives Joohyun a tender smile. "You won't, even if you make it hard."

They sit in silence for a while. Joohyun tips her head to rest on Seulgi's shoulder and she thinks of all the nights they have spent lying in bed together, quite except for the sound of their breathing as they take each other in. She doesn't want to lose Seulgi.

"I love you," Seulgi speaks up, "all of you, ballet or not. You exist outside of ballet now and you'll continue to exist outside of it, no matter what happens."

Joohyun's future in dance may be uncertain, but it's not her only future, and this one isn't going anywhere.

day ten: "que sera, sera" for everyone

unnimod — Thu, 02 Jul 2015 04:11:28 GMT

Title: que sera, sera
Recipient: Everyone
Fandom/Pairing: Nine Muses, Minha-centric, friendship!Minha/Sera and Minha/Hyemi
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: brief mentions of emotional abuse and sexual harassment, talks a little about ZE:A and the tweets by Lee Hoo/Junyoung from last September. this is purely a work of fiction.
Summary: Nine Muses suddenly isn’t nine anymore and Minha doesn’t feel anything. Minha doesn’t know what to feel.
Notes: Big thank you and huge apology on my part to the unnideul mods for being extremely patient with me. This was a pretty taxing fic for me to write, but I’m really glad I got to write it and I hope you like it!

January

Minha doesn’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing that pounds in the confines of her skull and a numbness that bleeds outwards from her arms - and that’s it. She inhales sharply.

Eunji looks tired - flat-out exhausted and thin. Eunji’s always been thin but not to this extent - gaunt and pale and tired - and the scariest thing is that Minha can’t remember when this became the norm. After their promotions for Wild? Or when they were recording their album? Hyunjoo stands beside her, tall with her head held high, like always, as if she’s marching into battle. Never half-assed when she set her mind to it. Minha wonders when Hyunjoo stopped trying on stage and why she couldn’t have done something about it. But then again, no one could ever convince Hyunjoo to do anything she didn’t want to do herself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Hyunjoo says, trying to meet eyes with each and every one of her group members in the room. “And Eunji physically can’t. I can’t deal with another four comebacks next year.”

Eunji’s eyes shine even under the dim lights. She looks at her feet and when she speaks, her voice shakes. “I’m sorry guys. I’m so, so sorry.” Sungah, sitting closest to her, wraps an arm around Eunji’s slight (too slight) shoulders and lets Eunji lean into her. Kyungri starts to cry beside them and Erin looks down, like there’s a hole in ground waiting to swallow her up and spit her back out into the time when this wasn’t happening.

“I can’t live my life like this,” Hyunjoo continues. Minha’s lip quivers. She bites it to keep it still, to keep the things she wants to say in, to keep something together. It’s not her place to interrupt with a complaint - they’re all tired, and they shouldn’t even be awake right now with the schedules they have tomorrow. “I love all of you, but - ” she pauses, like she doesn’t want to say it, “I’m not happy here and I’m afraid I won’t be if I stay.”

But isn’t being with us enough? Hyuna reaches for Hyunjoo’s hand. She considers it before grasping it firmly, meeting eyes with Hyuna, who nods at her. When Hyunjoo faces them all again, her eyes are wet but no tears threaten to fall. “I want to go until the end with you guys.” Her voice is softer now. “But not here.”

The numbness tingles in Minha’s fingertips. She looks at Hyemi, who looks to Sera. Hyunjoo looks at Sera. Minha looks at Sera.

Sera pushes the palms of her hands against her eyes. She’s crouched on the floor, elbows on her knees, almost a shadow in the dark room with her black hood pulled over her head. She sighs - once, twice - Minha lets out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding - three times.

Her voice is small, but deafening when she finally speaks. “Ok.” Inhales a shaky breath. Releases it and repeats, “Ok.”

Minha sees Eunji finally look up from her feet to look at Sera. They’re all looking at Sera, who's almost a shadow in this dark room.

They have always looked to Sera.

Changing dance formations is easy enough. After the dance instructor manages to rearrange them into new lines for Glue, Minha almost forgets where Eunji and Hyunjoo used to stand, and then she sees the gaping holes.

“Your line is so empty now, Gangie,” Sera jokes to Kyungri in the mirror, set in their respective positions. Kyungri narrows her eyes and sticks out her tongue in mock-retaliation. Sera only laughs in response. Minha feels her lips pull up into a smile at that, even though the corners of her mouth feel like they're weighed down by lead.

What’s harder is figuring out what to do with Eunji and Hyunjoo’s lines. Remembering to sing the new parts given to you even when the tiny voice in the backtrack isn’t yours. Hyemi struggles, half-asleep, to at least mouth Hyunjoo’s lines and Erin doesn’t even try to cover Eunji’s raps.

Erin clings onto Minha after a long day of practice, Kyungri laying her head on Minha’s knees. They’re scheduled to perform in few days with minimal mistakes in their new formations and the staff keeps yelling at everyone for not “putting in enough effort,” even when they’ve stayed in the practice room until dawn, going over the songs again and again on loop. Hyemi’s sitting in the corner by herself, earphones in, training herself to instinctively remember that Hyunjoo’s lines are hers now. Hyuna goes between watching her and watching Sera, who’s discussing something with their manager.

Erin motions Minha and Kyungri to lean in closer, like she has a deep secret to tell. Minha rolls her eyes, but Kyungri does so willingly so she follows suit. Erin’s eyes twinkle. “I’m not gonna do it,” she whispers, giggling after they pull away with confused expressions.

“What are you talking about?” Kyungri asks, readjusting her ponytail. Minha brings her legs toward her chest so Kyungri won’t lay over them again. Erin is still smiling, humored, but Minha doesn’t get what’s so funny anymore. Then again, Minha doesn’t always get what’s funny to Erin.

Erin quiets down again. “Eunji’s lines.”

Oh. “The ones manager oppa keeps scolding you about?” Minha quips. Erin motions to pinch her arm. She squeals and scoots closer to Kyungri instead.

“I mean, they’re not mine,” she goes on to say, picking at the hem of her shirt. Kyungri takes the chance to shove Minha off her. “It just...doesn’t feel right that Eunji isn’t the one rapping them. That Hyemi has to sing Hyunjoo’s lines.” Erin leans back against Minha. She wants to tickle the other girl off her shoulder, but it’s probably not time to be playful with Erin now. Minha remembers the slumps Erin went through in the past - the states where nothing Minha did could cheer her up - but she always snapped back on her own. Maybe this is one of those slumps.

“It’s just not right,” Erin sighs. Kyungri leans onto Minha’s unoccupied shoulder. Hyemi keeps singing Hyunjoo’s lines.

The ride to the venue is quiet. Usually, someone’s deep breathing from sleep cuts through the background traffic or Minha starts picking a fight with Hyemi that she knows she’ll win, but today, even though all seven of them can fit into one van now, it’s absolutely silent.

Hyemi tries to prod her into something by poking her sides. Minha glances at her in response, but doesn’t retaliate. Sorry, Hyemi mouths, sensing her bad mood. She shakes her head and leans further into her seat.

Sera’s in the passenger seat, plugged into her headphones, eyes closed. Sera hasn’t done this for a while - and only ever once in a blue moon - when the stress and pressure from the company are too much for her to handle. She’s relaxing, Minha told Kyungri one time when the other girl wanted to throw tissue wads at the back of her head. Minha doesn’t know what Sera’s really trying to do when she’s like this - Sera never talks about - but she knows not to bother her.

When they’re almost at the venue, Sera finally takes out her headphones. She turns around to face the rest of them, seatbelt cutting into the side of her neck.

“Let’s just have fun today,” she says. An unsure smile holds on her lips. “Don’t worry about mistakes,” Sera glances at Hyemi specifically, “let’s just do our best and have fun, ok guys?”

Sungah sits up from where she was leaning her head on Hyuna’s shoulder. “Of course, unnie!” Hyuna smiles with her. Kyungri blinks, half-awake, and nods.

The rest of them chorus in some kind of agreement and Minha watches Sera’s smile grow brighter and brighter until she turns around to face the front again.

Sera’s always been Nine Muses. Even when the staff took away her title as leader, Sera still covered for Jaekyung when she was late to practice and piped up before any unfortunate silences wormed their way in after interview questions were asked. “Habits die hard,” Sera said, nonchalantly, the one time Minha asked. “It’s like how you refer to all of us as your ‘unnies’ in that special tone of yours. Can’t stop doing that now, right?”

Minha wrinkled her nose. “It’s not like that,” she insisted at Sera’s over-the-top imitation. Sera just smiled one of her strange, knowing smiles and dropped the subject.

Even though Sera’s not leader in name, she’s their representative who attends most of the staff meetings with Junyoung. Sometimes, but more often than not, when Minha waits up for her so they can drive home together, Sera walks out with a closed expression on her face and her eyes cast down.

Minha knows - they all know, from when the CEO decides to meet them all as a group - how they treat Sera. You’re not taking care of the group, a higher-up will say, and Minha always has to bite back the will the lash out - look at how we’re still together! We still get along. Doesn’t that mean something besides sales and profits?

Sera just smiles and shakes her head when Minha asks how the meeting went. “Ah, tired…” she’ll supply instead, leaning heavily on Minha, laughing when the other girl whines in response.

But it’s never just nothing.

Someone slaps her butt once they get back into the waiting room. Minha scowls, but Sera proceeds to attach herself around Minha’s neck. “Yah, Park Minha! You didn’t have any fun on stage, did you?”

Hyuna joins in, sandwiching Minha between her and Sera. “Every time I saw you, you looked so unhappy.” Minha rolls her eyes and tries to tickle her way out of her confines. Hyuna and Sera shriek but keep holding on.

Sera clicks her tongue. “After you promised, too! Park Minha!” she says on the top of her lungs, which should cause the staff to stare at them, but they, for some reason, don’t.

“Is it because you messed up?” Hyuna asks, trying to meet her eyes. Minha tries to dodge them, but Hyuna reaches to hold her face in place, only to have Minha shake off her fingers. “It’s ok! Sera messed up. I saw it.”

Sera sighs. Her arms slacken around Minha for a moment, like she’ll let her go, then, as if she thinks better about it, tighten again. “I just hate not knowing where to go. You know that feeling when you can’t remember where your spot is? I really hate that.” She pauses. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter. “It’s weird, you know? No matter how much we practice those songs without them, their voices are still there and it’s just - ” She buries her face into Minha’s shoulder.

Minha knows. She remembers meeting eyes with Eunji on stage during promotions, her unnie smiling that dimpled smile at her for a brief moment before they had to switch formations again. Bumping into Hyunjoo countless times during practice and when they were on stage and laughing about all the close calls when one of them almost fell over -

“Yah,” Minha whines when Hyuna follows Sera’s lead. Sungah and Erin soon join in on surrounding her, then, Hyemi and Kyungri, too. “Guys!” she whimpers and the burning sensation in her nose and the wetness she felt in her eyes gone now that six other girls are keeping her from going anywhere. Even though her shoulders are starting to ache and the clump of people surrounding her is missing two girls, Minha thinks she’ll be ok. She’ll live.

The company doesn’t just want them to live.

Sajangnim walks into their practice room a few days after the event has aired, and Minha can’t help but stare at him during his slow procession to the lone folding chair their manager usually sits on. Once Glue, which they were practicing to ends, the air in the room turns still and thick. Erin can’t look up after she bows in greeting. Minha feels Hyemi step closer over to her, reaching for her hand.

“Are you guys practicing hard?” he asks. It’s a loaded question - every time they meet, he asks so many of them - and Minha doesn’t want to answer. She mutters a yes along with everyone else’s. Sera’s voice is the loudest.

The silence returns as he seems to consider their response. He already knows what he’s doing here. “If you guys are actually practicing hard, you would’ve all answered loudly.” He flicks his eyes over at Erin, who still hasn’t looked up from her feet. “So, were you or not?”

Sera looks at the rest of them, pleading, with a desperation in her eyes. Minha looks at a spot above their CEO’s head as they all chorus yes again, louder this time.

He hums in content, drumming his fingers on a knee. “You guys made a lot of mistakes at that event though. So do you think you practiced hard enough?” He looks behind her shoulder at Hyemi. “What do you think, Hyemi?”

Hyemi’s grasp on her hand tightens like a vise. “I think we did our best, but with more practice, we’ll make less mistakes,” she says, voice level despite her clammy fingers twined with Minha’s.

“But I don’t think your best is enough?” he counter quickly after she finishes choosing her words. Hyemi swallows but doesn’t drop her gaze. “And if your best isn’t enough, should I keep sending you out there?”

In the corner of her vision, Sera looks down at her feet, arms holding herself as if they could shield her. He looks at them all. “We’re still discussing what to do with Nine Muses,” he states, back to drumming his fingers on his knee, as if his words aren’t a thinly veiled threat. “Keep working hard.”

“Yes,” they say again, bowing again as he gets up. He starts walking, but stops and turns to lock eyes with Minha.

“Pay attention to your dancing, Minha,” he says. She barely manages to force out a polite-enough yes before he leaves. She keeps staring at the door. Sungah later tells her she looked like she was burning holes into his soul.

They do better at their next events. Minha thinks of it as “getting good at pretending the gaps don’t exist.”

Hyemi frowns when Minha tells her this at one of the photoshoots they get. Kyungri is taking her solo shots and Hyemi keeps blinking her eyes because they’re itchy, don’t laugh at me, Park Minha! “Were you always this pessimistic?” she asks as a stylist adjusts the collars of her blouse.

Minha matches her frown, half-taunting, half-serious. “I’m not lying though, am I?”

Hyemi sits down after the stylist leaves. “At least we’re still getting work. I was worried last time sajangnim came into the practice room,” she fiddles with the cuffs of her sleeves, ignoring Minha when she clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “I swear my blood went cold.” She shivers to prove her point.

Minha crosses her arms and stares at the outfits hanging on the clothes rack nearby. A frilly white blouse catches her eye that reminds her of one of their stage outfits. “That would look good on Hyunjoo unnie,” she says, pointing. Hyemi follows her gaze.

“Sera unnie says talks aren’t going great,” Hyemi continues. They both still stare at the blouse. “But I mean, we’re still getting work, right?”

Someone calls them over to get ready for their group shot. In between their jingling jewelry and the employees retouching their makeup, Minha nudges her and mutters, “When did Pyo Hyemi become so optimistic?” to Hyemi’s defensive whines.

Sera is always, always first to practice. Hyuna, Minha, and Hyemi usually rotate as second, but Minha has never managed to beat Sera to the company building, despite how early she sets her alarm.

Still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she climbs the stairs to the dance studio, she can hear Hyuna’s voice float down from the floor above. So she’s third today. She’s feeling proud of at least beating Hyemi today when she hears Hyuna’s voice gain a little bit of edge.

“No, Sera,” Hyuna says. She hears someone - Sera? - sigh. “Sera, don’t say that.” Her tone turns softer, almost pleading.

“I just - ” Sera starts. “They keep telling me it’s my fault. But how do you stop people that don’t want to get away from us, but from here? Hyunjoo wasn’t happy. Eunji - Eunji hadn’t been healthy for a while and we knew it. We knew it.” A shaky breath. “So how can you stop them?”

Silence. Minha knows that Hyuna’s wrapping her arms around Sera in comfort, patting her back and holding her in that way that makes all of Hyuna’s hugs different from everyone else’s. “You can’t,” Hyuna replies, voice shaking, but words full of conviction. “We couldn’t stop them. No one could. Don’t take what sajangnim says - ”

“I know it’s not,” Sera cuts in. She gasps for breath in between watery words and something in Minha’s chest clenches. “That’s the worst part, you know? I know it, but they keep telling me I could’ve done something, and then I start to think about it, and then maybe I could’ve done something, you know?” Another gasp for breath.

“Don’t say that,” Hyuna says again. “Don’t say that. Sera, it’s not your fault. Ok?”

“I’m so sorry,” Sera tries, the words small. There’s nothing to apologize for, Minha wants to tell her, but she can’t bring herself to climb the next flight of stairs. Hyunjoo and Eunji should be more sorry than Sera is - the ones that left them, the ones that could’ve stayed but didn’t, but Minha can’t hate them for anything, Eunji still calls her sometimes after practice and she laughs at all of Minha’s tired attempts at wit and her voice sounds so much stronger -

“I’m so sorry,” Sera repeats, but Minha doesn’t even know what they can be sorry about anymore.

April comes with empty schedules. Something in Minha’s stomach sinks to her toes when their manager says they’ll be focusing on “individual activities” for the time being, grounding her to the floor. Sungah and Kyungri shoot each other nervous glances. Hyemi shoots Minha with hers.

“I’m worried,” Hyemi says on their way home. Her voice sounds muffled and far away, like her mind. Knowing Hyemi, she was probably imagining all the possible outcomes their company’s statement could bring.

Minha loops her arm into Hyemi’s and leans her head on her shoulder. Hyemi squirms for a bit before relaxing against her. “It’s - ” she continues. Pauses, like she needs to put her thoughts into order. “I don’t know. Been like this before, but there was always a promise of a comeback. But this time,” Minha looks up at her from where she’s resting her head on Hyemi’s shoulder. The older girl’s voice catches a bit before she finishes the thought aloud. “I don’t know. And that’s scary.”

Traffic lights cut through the dark. They wait at the crosswalk, arms still looped together, silent for a while. “I don’t know, either,” Minha finally says. “But as long as we still want to be together as Nine Muses, it’ll be ok.”

Hyemi sniffles a little. Minha pats her back and the sign goes green. Some part of her doesn't even believe her own words.

They keep walking through the night.

It’s weird not going to the company building every day. After a year of non-stop dance practice, recordings, and practicing lyrics, waking up three hours after she’s gotten home and peeling herself off the sheets to take a morning shower have become the norm. Minha, half-asleep, almost hates herself when she sees the time before realizing they don’t want us there right now, anyway. She lets her head fall back into her pillow.

The group chat is uncharacteristically untouched, aside from Sungah’s emoji filled: i miss you guyssss ~~~ ㅠㅠ and pictures of all the food she ate by herself that she wants to share with the rest of them. Once a week, Hyuna insists that at least some of them meet up for lunch. Sera, who usually sends “one encouraging quote a day” when they don’t see each other, hasn’t sent anything at all, which makes Minha raise her eyebrows.

She finally sees Sera again a few weeks later, arriving just after they’ve ordered their food. “Sorry, sorry!” she says loudly to appease Kyungri, who’s trying to flick her on the forehead.

“Sungah got you what she’s getting,” Hyuna mentions when Sera’s finally made a peace treaty with Kyungri, and they cling onto each other.

Sera’s smiling but it doesn’t look like her usual smile - the one that brightens up her whole face. “Is it the largest thing on the menu?” she jokes and Minha wants to smile, she really does, but Sera looks more tired and thin than Minha remembers - like during their predebut days when she lost so much weight that her ribs protruded.

“Unnie!” Sungah whines. Erin imitates her. Hyuna imitates Erin. Hyemi kicks Minha under the table from laughing so hard. Sera’s laughing like nothing’s wrong.

But it’s never just nothing.

The next time Minha goes to the company building, ZE:A are in the dance studio. She watches them, somewhat jealous and somewhat wistful, from the glass door. They’re monitoring themselves in the mirror with an intense, though somewhat weary, determination.

Minha doesn’t want to say that the boys don’t deserve a comeback, because they really do. She’s seen how Kwanghee fought to showcase his fellow members on shows that didn’t want anyone but him, how Siwan and Hyungsik look like walking zombies these days, and glimpses of Dongjun working out more than he has to at the gym just to get first place in some athletics competition. Four years in and they were still individual names to the public, not a group. She’s just...jealous.

The music stops blaring. Minha hears Junyoung telling Heechul and Minwoo that they need to get into their spots faster. She almost forgets she’s standing in front of the door when Kevin almost slams into her, face flushed from practice.

“Sorry, Kevin,” she says, stepping to the side. Her movements feel slow, as if this isn’t her body - her real self is still thinking, thinking about when she and her unnies will be standing in the dance studio again, too. He smiles, wide but shy, and shakes his head in reply.

Hyungsik bounds after him. “Hyung, what’s the fuss - ” He pauses and his face brightens when he sees Minha. “Oh, Minha! It’s been a long time!”

Hyungsik looks more pale than she remembers - still as tall as a tower but he has this sleepy look on his face, like he’s been living perpetually half-awake. She remembers the days when he waved off the staff’s diet threats and worked through two hamburgers instead. It’s funny how long ago their trainee days feel. Does he still do that?

“Are you guys practicing next?” Hyungsik goes on.

Minha can’t hide the frown that tugs at her lips. “No. I’m just here to see the staff.” Hyungsik nods in understanding.

“‘Individual activities?’” Kevin asks, noticing her disdain. She tries not to scowl.

Hyungsik sighs, “It’s not as bad as you think it’d be. You know? Keep your name out there.” He looks at this spot on the wall behind her head before meeting her eyes again. “I hope you guys will do well,” and he really means it, even when he looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

“We can only hope,” Kevin agrees, smile still present on his lips, but smaller now. Minha regrets ever feeling jealous.

Minha’s never been particularly great at anything but she’s been enough. She can’t sing like Sera, Hyemi, or Hyuna, charm people instantly like Kyungri and Sungah, and her personality isn’t made for variety shows like Erin’s, Hyunjoo’s, or Eunji’s. That’s why they send her onto shows where she just has to sit there, laugh, and look pretty.

But she’s always been content sitting through recordings that mean little to her but the world to the rest of them. She’s never wanted to be the star - the stars are her unnies, and she’s happy to be the darkness between them so they can shine even brighter. Minha doesn’t care if she gets only a split second of screen time - her name shows up, the words “Nine Muses” coming before it, and that is enough for her.

So when one of the employees asks her, “Do you want to act?” at the meeting, Minha doesn’t know what’s happening. Her thoughts go to people like Kyungri and Sera, who emote far better than she ever will, when it took her long enough pre-debut to manage to school her default expression into “somewhat amicable.”

“Me?” is all she can respond with. The employee gives her a look, no shit, who else, impatient. “I think some of the unnies would do a better job than I would.”

Some of the others consider her words, expressions not quite neutral but not quite unhappy, and start discussing among themselves. The employee that asked the question sighs, “It’s not a big role. You’ll show up enough that maybe people will know your face. It’s not a small production, either.” Someone taps her on the shoulder. Minha watches as they discuss more amongst themselves.

“We’ll call you in again when things are confirmed,” one of the others tells her. One of the higher-ups, Minha recalls, his expression rather stiff. They're all looking at her like that. She bows and takes her leave, half-wishing she said something they wanted to hear but half-glad that she didn’t.

It’s Hyemi who tells them about their next event through the group chat. Minha can hear her screaming through her all exclamation marks: GUYS WE GOT AN EVENT! and Sungah and Kyungri respond with various crying stickers before typing some variation of i’ve missed you guys so much. Minha’s smiling before she even realizes how long it’s been since she actually felt this happy. She hides her face in her covers.

Hyuna probably worries about Sera the most. Partly due to the fact that Hyuna tends to worry about them all more than she should, but it’s Sera. She smiles when Minha runs into her outside the company building before practice starts. Hyuna hugs her and looks happy to see her, but the smile on her face is tight.

“What’s wrong, unnie?” Minha asks as they start walking up the stairs.

Hyuna presses her lips together. Releases them. Presses them together again until she starts to speak. “Sera’s been in a lot of meetings recently,” she says, tone light, but Minha feels the heaviness of her words. She doesn’t look away.

Hyuna takes this as a cue to keep going. “I’m worried. She’s been so,” she has to search for the right word, “quiet lately. First with the group chat, and now she hardly comes over to see Moya and Hoya. It’s just...not like her.”

The pained look on Hyuna’s face makes Minha grab her hand. “We’ll see her today, unnie,” she tries. Hyuna smiles a little, lips still tight.

“I missed you, Park Minha,” Hyuna sighs, pinching her side. Minha yelps but she can’t find it in her to pretend to be annoyed. She laughs and hugs her unnie instead.

Sera is there at practice, physically there, but her eyes are glassy. She barely avoids stepping on Minha’s foot and keeps forgetting where she’s supposed to stand next. No matter how many times she insists on stopping the music so they can slowly go over the formation transitions, she keeps making mistakes. Minha can’t help but watch Sera’s reflection instead of her own in the mirror, trying to figure out what’s wrong. At some point, she sees Hyemi’s doing the same thing - and Hyuna, and Kyungri, and Sungah, and Erin - after they lock eyes for a brief moment in the glass.

No one says anything about it. They should, but what can they say? There’s been times of palatable silence - when they should confront each other about something, but ultimately can’t bring themselves to do so - ever since Eunji and Hyunjoo left and their individual activities started. Minha can feel the words on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn’t know what they are and how to say them. She only knows that something should be said. But she keeps quiet.

“Sera unnie,” Minha starts during their water break. Sera’s still standing in her position, staring at herself in the mirror, eyes vacant, going over the moves. “Sera unnie,” Minha repeats when Sera doesn’t respond. This time, she glances at Minha until she finishes the part she was reviewing.

“Mm?” she hums, walking over to get her water bottle. Minha follows her, still not really sure what she should say.

“You look really distracted today,” Minha tries. Sera hums again, mouth full of water. Minha leans on her back with all her weight, tipping her over, just as Sera takes another sip.

She groans in response. “Ok, ok, Park Minha. I got it, I’ll pay more attention!” She turns around and pokes Minha’s cheek in retaliation. “Our maknae is so heavy,” Sera sighs, the upturned corners of her mouth giving her away.

But nothing changes. Sera’s still distracted for the rest of practice. Eventually, their manager sighs and tells them to call it a day. Minha sees her unnies shoot Sera worried glances before they go home.

“It’ll be ok,” Minha says to Hyemi, when Hyemi glances at Sera again. “She does better at the actual event, anyway, remember?”

“I guess so,” Hyemi agrees, reluctant.

Sera makes a number of mistakes at the actual event, but her smile and interactions with the fans make up for it. When she does an extra body roll, the screams grow deafening and Sera’s smile is so wide that Minha doesn’t know how it fits on her face. Sera was always fascinated by fan reactions, Minha remembers, shooting her a small smile as they pass each other to walk to their next spots.

Backstage, Minha’s blood is still pulsing in her veins with the thrill of their performance, each beat throbbing in her ears. Kyungri imitates Sera’s embarrassed grin after she walked to the wrong spot, and the way she tried to hide it behind her hair. Sera just shakes her head with one of her strange, knowing smiles resting on her face, tired like the adrenaline of the stage did nothing for her.

Minha arrives the earliest to practice on a Tuesday, for once in her life. She sits on the floor, waiting to hear Sera’s sneakers squeak up the stairs, but the silence roars instead. She starts stretching. Everything in her body still feels tense when she’s done.

Hyemi shows up twenty minutes later. Then, Hyuna, Kyungri, and Sungah trail in just on time. Erin’s panting when she runs into the studio - traffic got me - but Sera’s not there. Sera, who should be yelling, let’s go! or telling them to bring their hands in for a cheer. There’s confusion on Kyungri’s face and Hyuna bites her lip.

“Where’s Sera?” Hyemi asks their manager when he walks in. His cap is pulled low over his head, shading his face and expression so Minha can’t tell what he’s thinking.

He doesn’t meet any of their eyes. Minha swallows just as Sungah prods for her hand, but her throat is dry. “Just start without her,” he says.

They don’t see Sera at all that day.

Sera’s ditched practice before. During their predebut days, when everyone and anyone yelled at her - why can’t you get everyone here on time, you call yourself a leader, this is not acceptable, you’re failing - and Minha’s seen her run, run far away from the blame that shouldn’t have been placed on her in the first place and from them.

But she always came back. I have nothing else left, she told them all in the practice room. Minha only remembers this moment specifically because it was captured on-screen, in that documentary they filmed before debut - Sera crouched on the practice room floor with her hands over her eyes, like things would be better when she saw the world again. She looked smaller projected on the huge screen than she did in real life.

This time shouldn’t be any different. Minha lies awake at night, ceiling staring back at her in the complete darkness. Nothing much has changed, she tells herself, but she doesn’t know why she has to. If something wasn’t different, she wouldn’t be awake right now with a heaviness sinking in her stomach - the kind that only weighed her down when apartment bills were due and when the CEO talked to them about their album sales. But Minha doesn’t know what to think this time, and that terrifies her more than anything else.

Sera doesn’t come back to the practice room.

A couple mornings later:

Ryu Sera left the group chat

Hyemi calls her first. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asks as soon as Minha picks up the phone.

“No one knows what’s going on,” Minha says. Hyemi goes so silent on the other line that Minha almost hangs up until she hears her breathing again.

They don’t say anything more. Minha wishes Hyemi was physically with her, sitting on her floor that desperately needs vacuuming, holding her hand. No one knows what’s going on. Minha thinks that’s the scariest part.

A couple hours later, Hyuna calls. “They want to talk to all of us tomorrow.” The amount of static in the call does nothing to hide the nervousness in her voice.

Suddenly, Minha thinks it’s better if they don’t know.

She doesn’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing that pounds in the confines of her skull and a numbness that bleeds outwards from her arms - and that’s it. She inhales sharply.

There’s Sera, sitting close to the head of the table, sajangnim’s spot. Hyuna sits next to her, head in her hands. Erin’s stare is vacant. Kyungri can’t even look up. Sungah sobs beside her and Hyemi is starting to sniffle.

Leaving Nine Muses. Sera. Sera’s leaving Nine Muses. Sera, Sera, Sera’s leaving Nine Muses. Sera’s Nine Muses.

She can’t feel anything.

“I’m sorry,” Sera says at the end of it all. Her voice, the way her breath hitches when she tries to continue, everything, rings. Like when they were in the practice room after their debut performance, Sera singing as hard as she could, trying to prove something when no one was watching. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry - broken record, broken voice, broken person -

Tears burn in her eyes. She feels them roll down her face. She wants to burn holes into souls, she wants to rewind the past hour and play something over it, she wants -

She doesn’t wipe them away.

Everyone’s eyes are puffy at practice the next day. Kyungri bursts into tears again when Sera’s voice blares through the speakers. Minha feels her arms move, her legs move, but it’s all just muscle memory.

Sera’s line comes on after hers. She’s still standing in the middle. Oh. She tries to shuffle into place when she remembers. Yours now. Sera’s voice, ringing - I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you guys first -

She can’t even mouth the lyrics. These aren’t my lines, she wants to tell someone, anyone. I can’t do this.

The chorus comes. Now she’s in the wrong spot.

The next few events they perform at are a blur. Minha goes through the motions, tired but awake enough to pretend she’s fine. Still can’t bring herself to sing Sera’s lines.

Hyemi, Kyungri, and Hyuna smile on stage. They’re convincing, convincing enough. Only they and the staff have to know about the silences in the van, how Minha stretches out her legs because she finally can, but takes them back because Hyunjoo should be sitting there, Eunji should be resting her head on Sera’s shoulder -

Minha wonders one day if the end would be this silent, and this empty.

They bring up the drama again. It takes all of her willpower not to walk out of the room.

Is it even worth anything anymore? Minha thinks about their dismal to nonexistent paychecks and the way Hyuna just laughed when they got them so they all started laughing - her and her unnies, and she was ok with it. But now she hasn’t seen anyone but Hyemi in weeks, and only because Hyemi showed up on her doorstep a few nights after their last performance, pink veins showing in her eyes, and hasn’t let herself out since.

The same employee stares her down with harsh, narrowed eyes. “This is a good opportunity for you. For Nine Muses.”

She doesn’t protest aloud. Do we even still exist? but she bites her tongue, bites it back, so hard that she tastes iron in her mouth.

Two days later, they send her details about the audition.

Hyuna chews on her nails. Minha raises an eyebrow. Hyuna doesn’t chew nails.

Moya sits near Minha’s feet as Minha tries to read her script. None of the words register in her mind. She rolls it up and throws it onto the table nearby, almost missing. Moya scurries away at the sound.

Hyuna’s staring at her computer screen, occasionally scrolling down, then back up, then down again. Minha asked her what she was doing two hours ago, when she decided to show up at Hyuna’s door. Hyuna had let her in without a second thought.

Writing a book, she said. Minha didn’t really know what to think about that, but Hyuna hadn’t kicked her out yet, so she guessed that she was still welcome. Even though they hadn’t seen each other in nearly a month.

Hyuna tears her eyes away from the screen to pick up Moya, who struggles in her lap before Hyuna sighs and lets her go. “How’s your script-reading going?” she asks, walking over to pick up the papers that didn’t quite make Minha’s target. “Do you want me to practice with you?”

A month without Sera. Minha doesn’t know what they are without her - why they’re called Nine Muses when they’ve only really been nine twice, and both times they fell apart. She shakes her head, but Hyuna keeps looking at her, and Minha doesn’t know whether she should say something about it or not.

She does, eventually. She can’t bring herself to keep quiet and bite back the subject any longer. “Who do we blame?”

Hyuna gets up. Minha thinks she’s trying to avoid the question, but then she returns with two mugs of orange juice. She puts one in front of Minha. Her reflection, tangerine and pulpy, stares back at her with tiny eyes.

“Who can we blame?” Hyuna replies, challenging. Minha shakes her head but Hyuna continues, “I don’t think I could’ve stopped her. Any of them. From leaving.” Her voice doesn’t waver.

Minha chews her lip. Hyuna’s right, but her anger won’t dissipate. “But we’re not the same anymore,” she says. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

Hyuna runs a hand through her hair. Moya brushes against Minha’s bare shins underneath the table before settling back into the position near her feet. “I’m going to trust that sajangnim knows what he’s doing,” she says into the lip of her mug.

Minha looks back down at her reflection in the orange juice. It doesn’t agree with Hyuna, either.

Her character is this “love-desperate office worker who thirsts after the main guy but ends up alone because he doesn’t care about her,” as she puts it to Sungah, who’s apparently started working at her parent’s restaurant to pass the time.

“I don’t like her,” Minha says, knowing how ungrateful she sounds, but she can’t help it. “If we met in real life, I would probably hate her.”

Something clatters on Sungah’s end of the phone. “But you still have to play her,” she reminds her, and Minha feels the guilt create a lump in her throat. At least you’re getting paid, is the thing Sungah won’t say, but Minha knows she thinks it.

“I miss you, unnie,” Minha says, and she does. She misses Sungah’s warm hugs and the smell of her dried cuttlefish that she liked to eat in between schedules when they were in the van. “When can we see each other again?”

Sungah laughs. It’s charming - the carefree Sungah laugh, Sera liked to call it. Minha feels something in her fingertips tingle. She busies them by picking at the edges of her script.

“Whenever Gangie and you are free,” she replies. Minha’s seen Kyungri at the company building more often these days, on account of Kyungri being part of the new subunit with Kevin. Kyungri still wasn’t thrilled about it.

Her eyes were a little puffy the last time Minha saw her. Minha let her play with her hair as she tried to figure out what to say and how to say it. “It was supposed to be his solo,” she said. Minha nodded. “And now there’s me. And Sojin.”

“How’s Sojin?” Minha asked. Kyungri looked at her. They weren’t oblivious. Knowing their CEO, if Nine Muses was going to make a comeback (and that idea was already foggy and far away), it wouldn’t be as six.

“She’s,” Kyungri trailed off, thinking. “Calm? Compared to us. But maybe we’re just loud. Talks when you talk to her. Nice.” Minha slapped her hands away from her split ends. “Works hard. You know,” Kyungri looked at her, serious, “she’s had it hard, too.”

Minha didn’t doubt that. But then she remembered Sera, Sera and her lethargic smile with her protruding ribs, lying on the floor next to Jaekyung, both of them laughing in front of a camera - Hyunjoo sitting by herself in the corner, quiet, and Eunji making ridiculous faces at herself in the mirror. She met Kyungri’s eyes and hummed in agreement, and then Kyungri went back to practice, leaving Minha alone with her memories.

“I want to see all of you guys again,” Sungah whines in her cute nasally voice. Minha laughs but it sounds hollow, like it’s lacking heart.

All of you guys. She can’t help but think about how that’s referring to three less people now.

The cast and crew are polite to her. Filming isn’t unpleasant, but Minha feels stifled and like she’ll forget her lines at any moment. She thinks about talking to her co-stars, especially Youngkwang (after joking with Erin that she’d put in a good word for her), but even when he shoots her a small smile whenever she walks by him, no words come to mind.

Minha’s shy, Hyemi cooed when Hyuna tried to befriend her after she just joined the group. Minha responded by stepping on Hyemi’s foot and barely making eye contact with an amused Hyuna before averting her gaze.

“I’m from Nine Muses,” Minha replies the one time Soojin asks her about her career as an idol. Soojin nods.

“That must be hard,” Soojin says, trying to sympathize. “I mean, splitting a salary nine ways.”

Minha catches her tongue between her teeth before she says something that could possibly be disrespectful and nods instead, pasting a small smile on her face that she doesn’t really mean. She’s not an idol, Minha has to actively remind herself so she won’t lash out. Soojin tells her to keep working hard, oblivious to the hostility growing behind Minha's silence, and Minha thinks that maybe she’s a better actress than their acting teacher said.

“When’s your next comeback?” someone else asks her some other day, after filming, and Minha’s caught between wanting to slap them and wanting to lean on one of her unnies - because she should know (They keep your schedule packed, don’t they?), but she doesn’t. She doesn’t fucking know, and she hates that the only thing she knows, the only real constant in her life right now, is playing some pining office-worker who should really just give up.

The first time she talks to Youngkwang is during one of her last scenes in the drama. Her character, smitten with Youngkwang’s, who doesn’t return her feelings, kisses him by surprise and consequently, gets rejected. They’re on standby and Minha experiences one of her strongest impulses to punch whoever wrote her character in the face as the director goes over the scene again.

“Nervous?” Youngkwang asks. It takes Minha a moment before she realizes he’s talking to her.

She wonders what kind of answer he’s expecting. He gives no hint with his polite smile. Actors are shady because you can never read their expressions, she remembers telling Sungah once, attempting to dissuade her from crushing on some rising flower boy. The statement was a generalization, but it held true for Youngkwang. “No,” she says.

“Ah,” he laughs, sounding disappointed. Minha thinks the confusion shows on her face when he continues. “That’s a good attitude to have.”

“It’s just work,” Minha states. Youngkwang laughs a little at that, too. “Well, were you nervous about kissing all the people you’ve had to?” she tries, because she doesn’t get what he finds amusing about what she’s said.

He considers before looking at her pointedly. “Well,” he starts, still smiling. “I’m always excited about kissing a girl group member.”

Something sour settles in her mouth, digging beneath her tongue - by the end, Jaekyung barely came to practice because there was always that higher-up waiting for her outside, Sera comforting her as they whispered about something after practice and all Minha could hear was - no, no, I don’t want to go -

“Oh,” she says instead, narrowing her eyes. He starts to talk about something else but she’s not listening anymore.

When they start shooting, Minha makes sure to slam her lips against his during the first take so their teeth clack painfully together. The director yells cut instantly.

“Nervous first take,” Minha smiles, as sweet as she can. The director nods and tells them to go again.

Youngkwang doesn’t smile at her after that. Minha considers this a victory.

August passes and they still haven’t all met up as a group. Minha’s seen them all individually, though at varying frequencies - Hyemi, Hyuna, and Kyungri the most, Erin the least (she always sleeps in a little too late for lunch). But if she has to see all six of them at once, Minha’s afraid that all she’ll see are the gaps and how tentative their smiles will be - what do we do without Sera? The numbness begins to bleed outwards from her arms again at the thought.

Hyemi’s at her apartment, sticking her feet onto Minha’s comforter again even after she told her to stop. She knocks Hyemi’s legs onto the floor this time, sticking her tongue out when Hyemi whimpers in response.

“I like, keep expecting to see Sera whenever I go to the company, you know?” she starts after she’s adjusted to her place on Minha’s floor. She hasn’t talked about Sera ever since the day they learned about her leaving, and even then, she was crying too hard to really say anything. Minha mutes the television that was already on low volume and turns to look at her.

“She used to practically live there, you know? And I don’t know...how can I go back to the practice room if I know she’s never going to be there again? It’s like, I tell myself we have to move on, but it’s so,” her voice narrows into a small squeak, “hard. They just can’t be gone, you know? We have to move on, but I can’t and management’s said nothing about a comeback and I’m just worried - ”

She reaches for Hyemi’s hand, rubbing her fingers against her palm. “Yeah,” she echoes, and Hyemi’s face is pinched, like she’s trying not to cry again. Minha doesn’t know why she feels detached from her body, numb - maybe they’re really not there right now, going through this - maybe it’s one of those foggy and far away dreams -

“Yeah,” escapes her mouth again. She doesn’t even feel herself say the words. “I know.” Hyemi gives her this weird look - like she’s expecting Minha to keep talking, but she doesn’t. She keeps looking at her like that.

She wakes up to the news articles before anything else. There’s three missed calls from Kyungri, two from Sungah, and five from Hyemi.

They’re not happy, Hyuna told her when she brought up meeting with management last month. Ever since Sera’s departure, Hyuna’s taken her place and attended most of the staff meetings, even if Kyungri or Hyemi have gone in her place once or twice.

Have they ever been? Minha quipped back, but Hyuna only frowned more. She took that as a cue to drop the subject. Three weeks later, they sent Taehun into the cage to bleed.

She scrolls through Junyoung’s tweets and the words are all there, everything’s spelled out, but nothing processes in her head. She feels her heart pounding so loud in her skull that she swears it’ll burst out. He’s angry and he has the right to be, and she’s angry too and she doesn’t - she doesn’t and she doesn’t know what’s happening to her group and everything she used to know, working with her unnies - they were tired but they were happy, weren’t they? - doesn’t really exist anymore.

Minha throws her phone somewhere. Nothing fucking makes sense anymore. Been months since they’ve been stuck in this in-between. She wants it to break, but it’s still quite intact when she picks it up a few hours later.

“They haven’t said anything about us.”

Hyuna looks at her hands, folded on her dining table, thin fingers and prominent veins. No one looks up. Kyungri’s not even there, recording for some music program with Sojin and Kevin, who probably hasn’t slept at all after all the meetings ZE:A’s been put through. She remembers his smile, wide but shy, that day they almost crashed into each other outside the practice room. He’s probably not smiling now.

Hyuna runs a hand through her hair and keeps going. The strands fall back in front of her face. “It’s mostly between them and sajangnim, so they’re not going to do anything to us - ”

Erin laughs, and the sound is caustic and vulnerable. “Have we been doing anything, anyway?” Sungah moves to put a hand on her shoulder, but Erin shakes her head. “They haven’t said anything for months!” Her words feel louder than they actually are. “Are we even still together?”

“Do you not want to be?” Hyuna retorts immediately, voice sharp and biting. Her eyes are red when she glances at them all. “Don’t say things like that, Hyemin.”

Erin slumps back into her seat, expression unreadable. “It sucks, but we really can’t do anything right now,” Hyemi tries. There’s a truth in her words that Minha hates and wishes were a lie. But you can’t be angry, it’s not us, it’s them, we’re all suffering, it’s not Junyoung’s fault, it’s not Sera’s -

“We can only hope.” Too bad it’s gotten them nowhere so far.

The practice room is empty. Minha turns on the lights and sits on the ground, cross-legged, and breathes. The air still smells vaguely of sweat. Probably from Kyungri, Sojin, and Kevin’s last practice. Whenever that was.

Nothing’s changed - it’s still the same old practice room, same rules, same dance-until-you-can’t-anymore practice regimens from five years ago. It was always her, Hyemi, Hyebin, and Sera - on time and waiting for the others to come, or starting without them when they didn’t. Hyemi, crying in the corner when the staff weren’t looking with the cast on her arm, hurting but I have to practice, they’ll just give me a painkiller and make me keep dancing, Jaekyung, staring off into space right before debut, Hyunjoo, helping everyone out. The day Sungah got cut from the original line-up and Minha felt tears prickle her eyes. Eunji, stretching in front of the mirror, trying to keep the smile on her face but it wouldn’t stop slipping. Sera, their leader Sera - and then she wasn’t anymore. This is that place, Minha thinks. She lays herself down on the cool floorboards and stops moving.

They were preparing for their comeback around this time, just last year. Almost twisting her ankle more than a couple times when she stepped down from the chair, half-asleep. Erin and Hyunjoo leaning on her with their sweaty bodies during a water break - I’m tired, Minha. And I’m not? she tried with a scowl but then Sera had that mischievous glint in her eye and soon everyone else was crushing her with their weight, too. When did that all change?

She sits up. Hyemi’s staring at her from where she’s sitting, maybe two feet away, chin on her knees. Minha almost screams.

“You scared me!” she says instead and Hyemi just gives her one of her shit-eating grins. “Why are you here?” she pouts, settling down onto her back again. Hyemi scoots over to meet her eyes.

“Why are you here?” she stalls, poking Minha’s side. Minha curls up and kicks her back in retaliation.

“You know I come here when there’s nothing better to do.” Hyemi hums at that, infuriatingly wordless. Minha kicks her again, not as hard this time.

“Yeah,” Hyemi starts again, after she’s had time to think. “But not to sit on the practice room floor like this.” She imitates Minha’s drooping shoulders and the frown etched deep on her face. Minha thinks about kicking her again, raising a leg, before deciding it isn’t worth it. “So...are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

Minha turns to her side instead. The hard floor presses against her ribcage uncomfortably - stiff and cold. “You already know what’s wrong,” she snaps. Hyemi doesn’t even budge.

“Come on,” Hyemi prods, scooting over to her again. “You haven’t talked about anything for months now, Park Minha. Like, really talked.”

She thinks about rolling away from Hyemi again - maybe that’ll get her to drop the subject - but she’s tired and nothing’s changed and Hyuna’s worried about what’s happened to Junyoung and they’re all worried about Junyoung and something in her throat burns. She turns her head to look at Hyemi, who’s watching her, concerned, before turning back with a sigh.

Hyemi slams her hands down on the floor and crawls over to her, impatient. “Tell,” poke, “Me,” another poke, “What’s,” this time to her other side, “Wrong.”

“I’m angry, ok?” she says, exasperated, caving.

Hyemi backs off and sits down again. “At who?” Minha purses her lips - she doesn’t want to say it, but then Hyemi leans over her again -

“Management, sajangnim,” she blurts out. Hyemi looks at her expectantly. “Hyunjoo, Eunji, and,” she swallows. “Sera.”

A hand reaches for hers. Minha lets it hold hers, but keeps her fingers limp in its grasp. “Hey,” Hyemi’s fingers tighten around hers, “Hey. It’s ok, you know. You can be angry.” Hyemi’s voice is softer now. Minha almost want to cry.

“At Sera?” She sounds choked to her own ears. Sera is, no - was Nine Muses, from staying later for more practice, to always covering for them, closing her eyes when their CEO slapped her in the face with a rolled up copy of their schedule. But he made us, and Sera knew it too, they all knew it, but she still left and they remained and Minha didn’t get it but she did. This is the way things are now, even if you didn’t want them to be.

“I think we were all kind of mad at her,” Hyemi says, leaning on her elbows. “But I don’t hate her for leaving. Could you hate her for leaving?”

Could she ever hate Sera? Sera, who pinched the corners of her mouth up into a smile when she thought Minha looked too tense and terrified during one of their first performances. Who laughed when she whined unnie! in response. She shakes her head.

“She loves us - this, you know. Even when they made it really hard for her.” And Minha knows. “She didn’t leave because of us. Hyunjoo unnie and Eunji unnie didn’t leave because of us, either.”

Minha finally turns to face her again, feeling more lost than she did before they started this conversation. “So what am I supposed to do?”

Hyemi considers for a moment. “I don’t know.” She picks at a hangnail on her index finger. “But we’ll be ok, I think.” Minha drags herself up and puts her arms around Hyemi’s waist. “We’ll be ok, Minha.” Hyemi hugs her back and Minha feels everything all at once, washing over her.

Tears prickle in her eyes. Hyemi laughs, her eyes wet too. She wipes them away for her this time.

November

It’s the first time they’ve all showed up early to the company. Their manager raises his eyebrows but says nothing, settling for a silent fascination instead.

Sungah has her arms around her before she even realizes it. “I missed you so much,” she whispers into her ear and Minha tries to shake her off her shoulders at the tickling sensation.

“She did that to me, too,” Erin laughs, joining in on the hug. Minha scrunches her nose, but she doesn’t really mind. “I watched your drama! You did good, Park Minha!”

“Are you going to be our company’s next big thing?” Hyuna teases, grinning from where she’s sitting on the only folding chair in the room. She shakes her head at Minha’s silent pleas to free her from her other unnie’s vise-like grasp.

“No,” Minha pouts. “That’ll be Gangie.” Kyungri visibly brightens from where she’s sitting on the floor, checking her makeup in the mirror. Hyemi makes a sound in between disapproval and doubt and tries to hide behind Hyuna as Kyungri hisses.

They’re filming for their own variety show, for the first time ever. You know what that means, Kyungri had said after their first meeting about it and Sungah squealed beside her in response. Minha had to fight to keep the smile off her face the whole way home.

She and Hyemi sandwich Kyungri between them when they get into the van. Kyungri yells in mock-annoyance, while Hyuna, Sungah, and Erin settle comfortably in the row before them. They all fit into one van and there’s space for her legs that Minha’s still not used to, but she feels Kyungri’s arm against hers and Hyuna’s laughter is still loud enough that it sounds like she’s sitting right next to her.

The gaps are still there in the places where Hyunjoo, Eunji, and Sera should be. They’ll always be there; they can’t do anything about that.

But then again, there are gaps between stars - those deep, dark spaces that make them shine more - and Minha, Minha likes to think that like those spaces, they have a purpose.

day nine: "side by side in this gentle descent" for tide_ms

unnimod — Wed, 01 Jul 2015 03:34:16 GMT

Title: Side by Side in this Gentle Descent
Recipient: tide_ms
Fandom/Pairing: Nine Muses; Hyuna/Sungah
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hyuna saves the world and Sungah's along for the ride. The Sunshine AU no one asked for.
Author's notes: I tried to do at least one of your prompts justice /o\

Sometimes, she thinks she can fool herself into feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. If she stands there for long enough, the light would wash over her like it did when she was younger, carefree and unaware.

Back then she could enjoy the feel of grass underneath her bare feet because it was ordinary. Being able to run around in shorts and a thin shirt wasn't something she had to worry about taking for granted. Then again, back then she couldn't fathom such a thing as sunlight being finite.

Hyuna burrows her hands deeper into her pockets and exhales long enough for the cold to creep its way down her throat. It's always the little things that bother her the most, like being able to see her breath hang in the air during the middle of what is supposed to be summer.

*

The whole concept of a solar winter is oxymoronic to Hyuna, to say the least.

She understands the science behind it, she's lived and breathed it since before she could even drive. That doesn't mean she jump at the chance to knock down the first year graduate student who coined the term.

Being confusing can only distract people for so long.

*

"How are the numbers looking?"

Hyuna almost doesn't hear the question at first. She's lost track of time again. It happens, if anything it's a good indicator of how thorough she's being. She's not even sure how many hours deep into her shift she is but she does know that whatever it is she probably has twice as many cups of disgusting, prepackaged, pre-assembled coffee in her system.

"Hmm?"

Hyemi gestures to the maps and flight charts Hyuna has been huddled over for the past week. "Everything good?"

"Define good."

Hyemi doesn't roll her eyes at her, she's one of those rare interns who takes everything seriously.

"It's looking better than last time," Hyuna says with a small shrug.

"Last time the simulations showed the payload going off coarse and crashing." Hyuna knows Hyemi doesn't actively try to sound deadpan, it's just the way she comes off as sometimes. She'd think Hyemi was amused if she didn't know any better.

But she does know better and it's hard to joke around when every little thing is literally a matter of life and death.

"That's because last time we had a team of monkeys who thought it was normal that they weren't using the metric system." This elicits a grin from Hyemi and Hyuna feels a tiny sense of accomplishment—she takes the victories where she can.

"Speaking of," Hyemi glances over at command's main office, "the new recruits are supposed to start today."

"I think they're already here." Hyuna makes a note of the unfamiliar faces walking in. It's been long enough now that she only feels a little bit guilty for thinking she won't have to remember them. There are enough things to worry about—kids who think they can handle the stress of saving the world aren't one of them.

"Awkward first meetings, this should be fun," Hyemi mutters, brushing away invisible specks of dust from her lab coat.

"You were awkward when you started," Hyuna points out, standing up to look somewhat professional.

"No, I wasn't."

*

The day she meets Sungah for the first time is also the first time since middle school that she wakes up late. She never oversleeps her alarm, ever. She's horrified to even think about the possibility of there being rats in her apartment chewing on the cords and ruining her alarm clocks, but it's the most reasonable explanation. It's not like the cats would do it.

By the time she shows up at the office Sungah is already sitting at her desk and looking thoroughly out of place.

"Hi?"

Sungah jumps up and is the textbook definition of overeager. "Hello," she says with a little too much pep and sticks out a hand towards Hyuna. "I'm Sungah, your new mentee." She squints a little for a moment as if working through something in her head. "That doesn't sound right. Mentee?"

Hyuna doesn't know quite what to say so she just stares at Sungah. The longer she stares the more her face feels a little off—in a good way. It's one of those things Hyuna would never voice out lout because there's just no way to make it sound like not an insult, but really, she does mean it in the best way possible. Sungah the new intern with the face that's a little off, in a good way.

Sungah's face continues to grow more confused and Hyuna wonders why they haven't finished shaking hands yet.

"Protégé?" Sungah asks more to herself than Hyuna. "One who is being mentored," she says with triumph. "You're supposed to be my mentor."

Right. So now she's got a mentee.

*

"What do you do?"

"Make sure people don't die."

"Cool."

*

(She never professed to being a good mentor, in fact, she never even volunteered to be one.)

*

"Who's your new fan?"

Hyuna doesn't look up from the heat shield study she's poring through and just swats at Hyemi until she hopefully goes away.

"Brought you some fresh coffee," Sungah says from seemingly out of nowhere. She sets the mug down and eases herself into the chair next to Hyuna's desk. "Hi," she says to Hyemi with a big grin.

Hyuna's surprised but it's a welcome surprise. Even the interns didn't fetch them coffee.

"Why didn't you get anything for yourself?"

Sungah makes a face at her. "I hate coffee."

Somewhere between Sungah ending up being someone who doesn't actually talk as much as she appears and the frequent coffee trips without being asked to, Hyuna finds herself growing fond of her mentor status.

*

Hyuna's schedule—mostly just hours of trial and error being interrupted by sleep—is made a little less dull with the introduction of an oversized puppy in human form following her everywhere.

Generally, most of the lab techs end up staying late nearly every other day, either out of necessity or just plain old hard headedness. In Hyuna's case it's probably a little bit of both. What they're doing, it's important, they all know that. It's why people usually don't complain about the long hours. Those who do don't end up lasting that long; they burn out for lack of a better term.

There's a messed up irony in it and Hyuna finds it hilarious, really.

*

"If I have to go through one more dissertation on solar sailing I am going to stab someone." Hyemi drops a stack of binders on Hyuna's desk and strolls away.

"Thanks," Hyuna calls out after her, "it's not like this stuff is important or anything." She briefly considers shoving it to the side and letting one of the other interns skim it.

"Can I go through it?" Sungah picks up a binder from the top of the pile and dives in before waiting for Hyuna. IKAROS to Venus.

Leave it to a bunch of scientists to tempt fate.

*

The sun is dying.

She keeps little reminders around for herself, not because she's a cynic, but because she's realistic. Either they figure out how to keep the sun alive or they all die, it's simple.

All those times she learned about a star's life cycle back in school weren't supposed to be tangible. They were always told that cycles take millions and millions of years to complete. Stars don't just up and die without any real warning. These aren't the problems she should ever have to deal with, they're supposed to be for other people farther down the line. That's what she was taught anyway.

One generation's procrastination is another's mass extinction.

*

"Why do you do what you do?"

Sungah looks absolutely philosophical and it's not even eight yet.

"Why do you?"

She shrugs and flips through her notebook. "Not sure yet."

*

The short version is Hyuna wants to help save the world.

The long version, well, there really isn't a long version.

*

"You should come over for dinner tonight."

Energy beams and mirrors are not only cost effective but extremely lightweight as well. If they could just figure out how to manage the radiation intake then so many of their worries would vanish.

"I've got some wine I've been hoarding ever since the large scale rationing started to take effect."

Propulsion is great, being able to remotely steer without any large delays would be even better. Maybe there's a way to—

"Wait, what?" Hyuna stops going through her notes and looks over at Sungah. The same Sungah with wildly inappropriate lab attire. Come to think of it, she's never even seen Sungah step foot in any of the tech rooms. Not that she'd be allowed to anyway, what with the amount of hazards she's got on her at all times.

"And people call me a space case." Sungah grins at her, all teeth and earnest pride in her awful pun. She stands and tugs Hyuna up with her.

Maybe she lets herself be bossed around sometimes, but only occasionally.

*

(Occasionally turns into a few nights per week ordeal. It's nothing major, just two people having dinner every now and then. And if Sungah sometimes lingers in the doorway as Hyuna's getting ready to leave then that's not a big deal either. Hyuna's not one for ignoring things, she just prefers not to deal with it.)

*

"Your apartment doesn't seem all that furnished," Hyuna points out one night. At some point they stopped doing proper dinners and moved to sitting on the floor with their backs against Sungah's couch. The television offers an easy out for unwanted conversing but if that were the case Hyuna wouldn't keep coming back in the first place. It's cosy and honestly preferable—in a way makes it her feel like they're on a more even playing field.

What game they're playing is still something Hyuna has to figure out.

"I move around a lot. Seems easier to just have less stuff to pack," Sungah says around a mouth full of noodles. "I'm usually only in one place for a couple months at a time."

It occurs to Hyuna that she's never been charmed by the way someone eats, especially if it's as messy as Sungah.

"Why have you stuck around here for so long then?"

It takes a moment for Sungah to say anything. She fiddles with her noodles and the silence is painfully drawn out.

"I don't know," Sungah says with a look that seems to say the complete opposite.

*

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen you take notes on any of the actual science around here." It's been who knows how many months of Sungah following Hyuna around now and it's taken her this long to notice. Sure, Sungah writes down what she does and says but never anything about relevant equations or research. She'd be worried about corporate espionage except it's not exactly a terrible thing if someone else has this information and finds a solution to all their problems.

"Should I?" Sungah goes through her notes, nodding at herself and mouthing things under her breath. "No, I think I've got what I need."

Strike two comes in the form of Hyuna never actually taking the time to look over exactly what Sungah is constantly writing down.

Sungah hands over the notebook without being asked and Hyuna finds herself unbothered by the presumption. She's picked up some tics from being in the sciences for so long. Defensiveness over assumptions can get old after having to justify herself and her position in the field to those far lesser than her, as far as merit goes anyway.

Sungah's handwriting is atrocious. It takes some deciphering but she can make out most of what's on the pages. Super lab with super ladies. It's the end of the world as we know it, or is it. The science of saving the sun—for dummies.

"Oh," Hyuna finally murmurs. "A lot of things just started making more sense."

*

"What I want to know is why no one thought to mention that I'd have a journalist shadowing me."

"I just want to know how you never noticed."

*

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew." Sungah looks sheepish even though she has no reason to be.

Hyuna brushes it off, in the end it's really not that big a deal. "It's okay," she says with a smile. It's probably even a little funny judging by Hyemi's reaction.

Sungah sets her glass of wine down and plays with the frayed fabric of her old couch. "I just thought, well, it would make sense why you never..."

Hyuna doesn't even flinch when Sungah drops the fabric and plays with her fingers. She barely knows this girl, it should be unnerving.

"I just always assumed you didn't want to violate a no fraternization rule or something."

For the first time since the revelation of the new recruit turned journalist imposter, Hyuna's able to find the humor in everything. As if a no fraternization rule would ever survive at their lab. Hyuna may not notice everything but she'd have to be dumb, blind, and working from home not to see the blatant relationships of her coworkers.

"What's so funny?" Sungah's grinning as well, looking ready to be let in on some big joke.

"Nothing," Hyuna explains, smile still plastered on her face, "there's just no rules about fraternization. Have you even seen the place?""

"Oh," Sungah nods to herself and shifts so they're facing each other with Sungah's knees against her thighs. "Okay then," she grabs the lapels of Hyuna's shirt and gently tugs. "Promise you won't tell HR about this," she says somewhat seriously before leaning in.

Sungah kisses like she does everything else, playfully and a little messily. She moves forward until she's straddling Hyuna's hips. Hyuna rests her hands on top of her thighs, steadying Sungah and taking the lead. She nips at Sungah's bottom lip and slows their kisses.

After all, they've got plenty of time. It's not like the world is ending or anything.

*

(And for the next couple hours, it really feels like the world isn't ending. Hyuna takes it slow and steady, guides Sungah's hand down between her legs with leisure. For all the times Hyuna let herself be bossed around, she pays it back in full and with interest. Sungah's all deep breaths and silent demans, twisting and writhing until they knock over the long forgotten wine glasses.)

*

The sun is dying.

Another day, another reminder.

Sungah catches up to Hyuna on the way back to her desk and links their pinkies together. "I caught wind of some gossip in the break room," she mock whispers conspiratorially.

A smile threatens its way to her face but Hyuna intertwines their fingers together instead of encouraging Sungah.

"It's probably not about us," she adds anyway.

Hyuna idly wonders if this is what a distraction feels like.

*

The solar winter transitions to actual winter and it borders on unbearable.

She thinks their team is getting close to something with their research and tests. Solar sailing. There's something and then there's solar sailing. Solar sailing that might be useless if the sun is becoming a dud of a battery but it's something.

"You know how when people's hearts stop, you can send a jolt of electricity to jump start it? Why don't we just do that, but on a larger scale?"

Hyuna is still neck deep in the solar sail research and at this point, she'd gladly welcome anything that doesn't depend on a slowly fading energy source.

"I don't think that's how a defibrillator actually works but yeah."

"Yeah." Sungah grins and leans over to give Hyuna a quick peck on the lips.

Her heart skips a beat but probably not for the right reasons. No one around them seems to pay them any mind but it doesn't help the uneasy feeling.

"Give the sun a little boost of energy," Sungah states proudly.

If only it were that simple. Launch a ridiculous amount of warheads directly at the sun and revive it. Because warheads can be nuclear.

Nuclear power.

Nuclear fusion.

Hyuna grabs Sungah's face and kisses her so hard it leaves her lips tingling and swollen.

"You might have just saved us all."

*

It's simple: go to the sun and throw bombs at it until there's enough momentum to get it going again on its own.

It's so stupidly simple that it can only have come from Sungah.

They're going to jump start the sun and it's going to work.

It's already the end of the world, a little optimism couldn't hurt.

day eight: "and they call it puppy love" for kisoap

unnimod — Mon, 29 Jun 2015 17:38:58 GMT

Title: and they call it puppy love
Recipient: kisoap
Fandom/Pairing: red velvet; seulgi/wendy
Rating: pg
Warnings: n/a
Summary who needs a matchmaker when you have a dog?
Author's notes: Ah, this was really fun to write! This was my first time writing red velvet, so I really just wanted to make it lighthearted and an easy read. Hopefully I accomplished that and you enjoy it!!

Seulgi should know by now that taking her eye off Joy, even for a moment, is a recipe for disaster. She’s still young and has the energy of a dozen puppies combined into one, overgrown chocolate lab, but Seulgi really wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

“Joy! Jo-oy!”

Seulgi walked around the dog park, a deep frown on her face as she tried to locate her errant pup. She had gotten momentarily distracted buying ice cream from a passing vendor and Joy had obviously taken that as an opportunity to wander off without her knowing.

“This punk, really,” she grumbled, making her way towards the other end of the park that was less occupied. Joy had the habit of getting her attention taken by the smallest things so Seulgi figured a butterfly had flown by. Or something.

She finally spotted her near the pond; half crawled under a park bench with her tail wagging enthusiastically behind her. “What are you doing, silly girl?” she questioned, looking down at her with confusion.

Surprisingly, Joy didn’t pop up at the sound of her owner’s voice. Instead she just renewed her energy into squeezing herself even further under the bench. “Yah, come out before you get stuck,” she called, already crouching down to pull Joy out carefully.

The pup squirmed, barking and trying to get back over to the bench. Seulgi was now very interested and ducked her head to see what was underneath. “What is it? A lost toy? Half-eaten donut?” she muttered, but rather than either of those things, a pair of big, brown eyes stared back at her, causing Seulgi to fall over in shock. ”Oh, what are you doing there?” she questioned aloud. She set Joy down, nudging her over so she could gently coax the other dog from underneath the bench.

Seulgi clicked her tongue and finally resorted to offering her one of Joy’s treats, grinning when a little black nose appeared from underneath. “Ah, you little doggies are all the same!”

Now that the other dog was out from underneath the bench, Seulgi could get a clear look at them. Unlike Joy who was large even at her age, the other dog was positively tiny, able to fit comfortably in Seulgi’s lap. Their fur was almost pristine white, but there were bits of grass and a few small twigs tangled in the fur.

“You’re quite the pretty thing, aren’t you? Your mommy must be so worried,” she remarked, gently petting her as she looked at the identification tag around her neck. The dog was obviously pampered; her fur looked professionally groomed and the collar around her neck was a pretty pink that matched the bow holding her fur up like a little spout.

“Ah-ee-rin? Ayreen? Oh, Irene! Can you speak English, girl?” she asked, only receiving a blank look in return. “Okay then, well hopefully your owner speaks Korean,” she said before digging out her phone. Seulgi quickly dialed the number from the tag and set Irene loose with Joy, watching for a moment as the two played around. Or rather, Joy nuzzled and laid herself out over the smaller dog.

It only took a few rings before the line was picked up and a soft voice answered. “Hello?”

“Yes, hello. My name's Seulgi and I think I find your dog, Irene,” she grinned as the other voice let out a surprised breath.

“You find her? Oh thank you so much! I’ve been worried sick. Irene’s not really an outside dog.” Seulgi grinned at the words. That much was obvious.

“I’m Wendy, by the way. Do you think we could meet up? I can give you the address to the café I work at,” she suggested and Seulgi nodded.

“Yeah, I can meet you there. Just message me the address.”

They hung up quickly after that, Seulgi’s phone beeping with a message soon after. The café was actually quite close by and Seulgi leaned down to wrangle Joy and Irene onto the leash, laughing at the put upon look Irene managed to convey.

“Sorry, can’t have you getting lost again.”

The walk to the café was quick and uneventful, though Seulgi did have to take extra care that Joy didn’t drag both her and Irene away chasing after anything that caught her attention. When they finally arrived, Seulgi paused at the entrance, looking for a no dogs sign, and entering after not seeing any.

The café was gloriously cool compared to the stifling summer heat outside and Seulgi grimaced slightly as sweat started cooling on her neck.

Before she could wonder who exactly she was supposed to be looking for, she heard an already familiar voice cry out, “Irene!” and the little, white terrier let out a happy bark. Seulgi quickly undid the leash and watched as Irene all but flew into the arms of a girl who appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

Seulgi stood back to let them reunite and it was only a few short moments more before Wendy approached her, a large grin on her face. As she came closer, Seulgi had to stifle a grin of her own – it was easy to see why Wendy had chosen Irene, the two were equally tiny together and Wendy even had a bow similar to Irene’s in her hair, though it was blue.

“Thank you so much for bringing her here. I hope it wasn’t too hard to find,” she said and Seulgi shook her head.

“No no, I was actually at the dog park a little ways away,” she said, gesturing vaguely somewhere behind her. Wendy nodded and haltingly opened her mouth to say something before stopping and shaking her head.

“Are you thirsty? I work here so I definitely know all the good drinks,” she offered and Seulgi didn’t hesitate before accepting.

“Do you think I could get some water for Joy? It’s nearly boiling outside,” she asked, motioning to her own dog. Wendy nodded easily and Seulgi watched as her ponytail bobbed around the back of her head.

“Of course. I don’t know if you noticed, but this place is pretty dog friendly,” she gestured around and Seulgi took a moment to look. While the café was moderately busy, almost everyone had a dog with them. Most were small lap dogs, but she saw a fairly big Australian Shepherd near the back lazing around its owner’s feet.

“Irene, get a table.” Seulgi blinked as Wendy put Irene down and the small dog easily navigated around chairs and table legs to an empty table towards the back.
Seulgi looked back over her shoulder to see Wendy’s slightly smug smile. It looked good on her.

She followed after Irene, gently tugging Joy with her, and sat down at the table. She unclipped Joy from her leash and watched as the two dogs interacted under the table for a while before Wendy appeared, carrying a tray with her.

Seulgi stood to help, but was waved off. Wendy easily set the tray down, setting a bowl of water on the floor for the dogs and passing out iced drinks for her and Seulgi.

“I hope you like caramel,” she said as she sat across from Seulgi, already taking a long sip of her drink.

Even if Seulgi hated caramel, she would probably praise it as the best thing she’s ever drank.

The meet up didn’t last too long however, Wendy had to get Irene back home and Seulgi had an evening shift to get to, but they exchanged KKT ids and promised to keep in touch before parting ways in front of the café.

Seulgi only just managed to keep from snapping a photo of Wendy’s retreating frame in the late afternoon sun.

Later that night when she was lazing about her room with Joy, she noticed something between her pup’s big, brown paws.

“What you got there, girl?” she asked, rolling over on her stomach to look down at Joy from her bed. The only response she got was a low whine and a pitiful look.

Seulgi chuckled softly and reached over, moving one of Joy’s paws only to find a familiar looking pink bow. “Did you take this from your friend? That’s not nice,” she scolded gently, but let Joy continue playing with it.

She dug around her blankets for her phone and upon locating it, snapped a quick photo. She sent it to Wendy with a caption look who misses her friend and made sure to add plenty of emojis with it.

Wendy’s response came quickly after; a picture of Irene staring at her front door, pink leash at her feet along with the caption she hasn’t brought that thing out in months!

Seulgi laughed and really, before she knew it, her and Wendy had spent the next few hours chatting over KKT, sharing pics of their dogs and the occasional selfie. It wasn’t until Seulgi’s phone buzzed against her cheek and she checked the time that she realized heading to bed was probably the next step.

She snapped one more bleary eyed selfie, making sure to capture Joy in it as well, and uploaded it with the caption i think it’s bed time for me and jjoy~. Wendy’s response was much the same except Irene was in a much more dignified position than Joy’s ungainly sprawl across Seulgi’s bed.

“Looks like we made some good friends, isn’t that right girl?” Seulgi petted the sleeping pup affectionately, running her fingers through the dark coat until she joined her in sleep.

Despite hitting it off quite nicely, Seulgi and Wendy couldn’t meet up because of their conflicting schedules. When they finally did come across each other, it was completely by accident. Wendy had bene taking Irene to her groomers when they crossed paths.

Seulgi had taken Irene’s affectionate nips with ease as she chatted with Wendy before they parted ways again, with a promise to get together soon.

They promise would come sooner rather than later because as soon as she’d gotten home, Joy had pounced on her, powerful puppy nose easily detecting Irene’s scent. Seulgi let her crawl all over her, laughing heartedly until she finally pulled her phone out to shoot Wendy a quick text to meet up when they were free.

“You happy? We’re gonna go to the dog park tomorrow and you can play with Irene,” she said and somehow Joy understood because she let out a series of noisy barks that Seulgi was sure she’d be getting an earful from her neighbor tomorrow.

Tomorrow came soon enough and found Seulgi being led to the dog park by an enthusiastic Joy, who for once didn’t let any passing by bug grab her attention.

Wendy and Irene were already there; Wendy trying to coax Irene into a game of fetch with a ball that looked as if it just came from the store. Seulgi undid Joy’s leash and watched as she took off in that direction, bombarding Irene with her doggie greetings.

“She’s really not an outside dog, is she?” she asked jokingly as she came within earshot. Wendy turned to look at her, using her free hand to shield her face from the sun. She had that same blue bow in her hair, this time clipping back the long portion of her bangs.

“No, so it must mean she really likes Joy then. I’ve been trying to get her to come to the park for ages, but she just growls and plops down in the house.” There was a small pout on her face and Seulgi laughed again. It seemed all she wanted to do was smile and laugh around Wendy. It was a good feeling.

They watched as the two dogs played with each other, chatting about unimportant things as they did so. Well, Wendy chatted and Seulgi watched her with a dreamy look on her face.

“What?”

Seulgi blinked as Wendy suddenly stopped talking, and raised an eyebrow in question. “What?”

“You’ve just been staring at me for the past five minutes. Do I have something on my face o something?” she asked, making a show of wiping her cheek.

Seulgi acted without thinking and reached to grab her hand, clasping it in her own. They were soft, as if she spent a lot of time moisturizing, and it made Seulgi want to hold her hand forever.

“No, no you’re fine.” She assured. Wendy hadn’t pulled her hand away, but there as now a pink flush to her cheeks that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“How about we get drinks again? Without the dogs?” she asked suddenly. Seulgi held her breath as she waited for an answer. Wendy wasn’t looking at her anymore, her gaze landing back on the two dogs who were nudging the ball at each other.

She was about to take it back when Wendy looked her way again. “Sure,” she agreed, a bright smile blossoming on her face. “But this time you’re paying,” she added and Seulgi laughed, her head tossed back and face turned upward towards the sun.

She loved having a dog.

day seven: "everlasting warmth" for chanyeolanda

unnimod — Mon, 29 Jun 2015 16:44:44 GMT

Title: Everlasting Warmth
Recipient: chanyeolanda
Fandom/Pairing: Nine Muses/Kyungri-Hyemi
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Self-harm (past event), medical condition.
Summary: To her, Hyemi was like Kryptonite to Superman. Except, Hyemi didn't weaken her, she overwhelmed her with an inescapable warmth.
Author's Note: 11k fic wasn't my intention ;) I hope you won't feel bored half-way through, (and that it has what you wanted, Recipient.)
Thank you to my friend M for beta-reading. (Any remaining mistakes are mine.)

When Kyungri arrived at the bar, she was about an hour late for her shift, but it didn't matter, she owns the bar. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary happening in the bar, Kyungri could tell from the lyrics shouting and unending laughter. Just another karaoke night; just another night with the same clinking of glasses, and the same voices. The people might be different, but their voices were exactly the same as last night's people, and the night before.

She didn't take her time to see who was singing and how many were drunk already, she simply smiled to whomever her eyes met. A forced smile that didn't, and won't motivate anyone to have an interest in making a move. She rushed to the back room when she noticed Mella looking at her, clearly angry.

She was about an hour late on one of the busiest nights of the week, and it seems it does matter.

,

There were less people than usual, but Kyungri kept focusing on her job nevertheless. She focused on the drinks and how she pours them. She listened to the people talking to her, despite the fact that she didn't necessarily want to listen, noticing the tiniest change of their tone and how their gazes shift. Twenty-seven years old Kyungri always shows her attention to the people sitting at the bar. She realized long ago that it was what makes people come back again and again.

That and her, one of their regulars had told her while staring at her as if he was enchanted. He was drunk.

She is always focused, and busy, serving this one and that one from behind the bar that she seldom pays attention to the people sitting at tables, or the ones singing in nights like these. She smiles, and laughs heartily sometimes. A reply always in her mind to keep the conversations with strangers going. That's all she can do.

,

It became noisy, too noisy that the faintest feeling she had about not hating this place quickly ran away when a young woman made a cracked high note. Kyungri might have kept frowning if that woman didn't laugh it off right away, holding the mic with both of her hands, almost covering her face. She must have felt embarrassed since there was quite a number of people watching her, Kyungri was staring. The woman laughed again when another woman with short hair neared her, holding her phone up to film her.

That laugh, being audible thanks to the mic, the sound of the woman's laugh was exactly how it should be, Kyungri didn't realize that she stopped wiping the glass in her hand, cute. That laugh was nice on the ears just like the woman's appearance was nice to the eyes.

The slightly ruffled hair, and the way she pouted at the phone, Kyungri didn't notice the man, who just sat at the bar, waiting for her to give his order. She was looking at the woman with long hair and a beautiful smile, none of the people sitting or walking by were distracting enough. It was an enticing view; a nice moment to witness, a nice moment with an attractive aspect to it. She seemed happy, both women seemed happy, and that made Kyungri smile.

Kyungri doesn't stop smiling when she looks away, she still doesn't notice the man waiting as well. Those nice moments were what helped her endure working, and living in a place filled with sad memories.

,

Two hours after midnight passed before the bar fell under a calmness that rhymed the words inside Kyungri's mind. Words being repeated by the voice constantly reminding her that she wants to leave this place. Her own voice; her own mind showing her how sad she was here. The voice was too loud now, with no people around to silence it.

Every night at this hour, doing the same chore of cleaning and arranging tables, Kyungri would do her best to not give in to the feelings of not belonging. Feelings that were suffocating, feelings that took advantage of the too calm moment. She was wiping the table in focused circles, it has been exactly three years since her father passed away, and that stirred not only sad memories, but happy ones as well. This place was her father's.

It was his getaway from everything, even from her. They hadn't been talking with each other when he passed away, and that wasn't what saddened her tonight. She pushed him away from her life since long before that, and that also didn't sadden her the most.

"..ngri!"

Kyungri flinched, realizing she was being called, "What?"

Mella, the manager, was wearing her jacket, getting ready to leave, "I'm going home, do you need anything?"

"No. Thanks."

What saddened Kyungri tonight was that she misses her father. They had only each other in this life, and yet they couldn't turn to each other even when they wanted to. They had only each other, and now she has no one. And now, she doesn't want to yell at her father to fix what's wrong, or ignore his worries, she only wants to see his tender smile again.

"Are you okay?"

It didn't take Kyungri more than a second to realize that she messed up tonight. She was late, she was distracted, "Yeah, yeah, just a litte tired." She turned to Mella, "Hey, I'm sorry for being late," and smiled, "won't happen again."

Mella nodded, wearing her knit cap, "It turned out to be a slow night after all, so I can't really complain." She was walking towards the door, "Goodnight, Kyungri."

Kyungri kept smiling, hearing the sweet tone as she said that. "Night." Mella might be a pain in the ass when angry, but the total opposite when she's pleased with their work.

She continued to the next table, hoping she would have a good night. Hoping the past and its memories won't be apparent under her eyes tomorrow.

,

She wasn't too focused on the wiping when the door was opened again a few minutes later. She was supposed to lock the door behind Mella, Kyungri frowned for forgetting that and was about to say we're closed when she realized who the person coming in, and looking right and left before noticing her.

"Excuse me, aa... hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but I lost my work card." Kyungri was listening, and already knowing what the woman, who made a cracked high note earlier, was going to ask, but hearing her voice so clearly; seeing her this close, it wasn't something that Kyungri was expecting. It was a surprise, and surprises don't normally stop at one.

"Could you please check if I dropped it here?" The stranger standing at the door was smiling, her cheeks and nose were red, probably from the snowy weather, and somehow she seemed taller.

Her light brown hair was a bit messy that it seemed suiting her more than ruining her looks. She was wearing her red, plaid shirt when earlier it was placed on the chair, Kyungri was still staring, surprised. Her thoughts drifting from the woman's beauty to counting how many buttons of the slightly oversized shirt were buttoned up. None.

kyungri felt embarrassed when the woman fidgeted under her stare, "Sure, I'll see the lost and found box." She smiled, and moved her hair behind her ear.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, I didn't realize I lost it." The woman spoke again, her smile practically making its way to be Kyungri's favorite thing in life. If Kyungri would let it... after she stops cursing herself for giving such a silly reaction.

Kyungri assured her it was completely fine before continuing her way to the side of the bar. The woman's words seemed only polite rather than anything else, and that didn't surprise the black haired bartender. Kyungri had watched her for like... what, an hour or two? And she didn't get the impression that the woman was the regretful type.

"Thank you."

Kyungri was still cursing herself for being silly, and tried forcing her heart to slow down, if that was possible. She was also trying hard to not focus on the way that thank you had been said, wanting to ignore the honeyed tone that wouldn't have, and couldn't have gone unnoticed as she took out the small box from the shelf under the bar. She didn't have to look for anything, the unique card of the Eastern-Side mall with a name written on it was there. It was the only card in the box, lying there on top of everything else that had been forgotten or lost. The card had a store's name on it as well.

Kyungri took it out, looking at the name Hyemi. "This one?" She showed it to her.

The woman's big smile was already an enough answer. "Yes!" She said, walking towards Kyungri, "Ugh, I thought I lost it for good."

Kyungri felt glad, restraining her smile, she felt the childish happiness of being the hero.

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

The sparkling eyes of Hyemi as she looked at the card then at her were enough to make her keep smiling, were. Kyungri stopped smiling, unwillingly. Something was off; something in the air around her felt different. She tried to smile again, brushing off the growing feeling of heaviness heading towards her, but her smile came out nervous.

"I.. should probably go now," Hyemi said after a moment. "Thank you again."

What are you doing? What are you doing?! "I'm Kyungri... by the way." It sounded rushed, but Kyungri ignored that, along with the ticklish feeling her bangs were casuing. What she couldn't ignore, however, was that evident heaviness, the waves of wa-- With a small laugh, Hyemi also introduced herself, "I'm Hyemi."

But Kyungri couldn't focus on what's happening, she is still looking at Hyemi's eyes, her head started to feel heavy. She felt an unseen pressure engulfing her, she noticed Hyemi's hand that was extended to shake her own just in time, and she quickly reached for it. Smiling apologetically because she was sure she didn't look great. "Nice to meet you." Kyungri said heartily.

Warmth, the word appeared in her mind as if it was a late echo. A forgotten memory that somehow she recognized its details right away. It was real, Kyungri didn't let go of Hyemi's hand, and was unable to comprehend Hyemi's reply. It was real, the warmth, it was there, escaping through the skin of Hyemi's hand, and reaching her. Touching her nerves, awakening them.

The warmth was there, radiating naturally from Hyemi, crossing the small space between them hurriedly as if it was accomplishing a mission. Or so Kyungri felt, it was attacking. Kyungri was sure it wasn't her mind playing tricks, the warmth was real and so was the cold of winter around her. Kyungri isn't supposed to be able to feel them, something was wrong, or right, finally right.

Hyemi's attempt in pulling her hand was what got Kyungri out from her thoughts, and sensations. She let go, realizing her brows were furrowed, "Um, sorry. Ca... can I get you anything?" An invisible print of heat still on her palm, causing her hand to shake. Or was it the fear? Kyungri walked behind the bar, hoping she succeeded in pushing the awkwardness away.

"Are you alright?" Hyemi had a small smile on her lips that soon was gone, a confused look in her eyes that made Kyungri too embarrassed to keep looking at her.

The cold was still there, the warmth as well. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just..." Her own warmth, bursting from within her. She could feel it surrounding her chest; her stomach, and reaching every inch of her inside. "I just a have a bad headache." Kyungri avoided Hyemi's eyes. The contrast between her own heat and the cold weather, that touched every spot of her exposed skin gave her goosebumps. Her heartbeats were unsteady, and that scared her more.

Hyemi pursed her lips seeming like she was evaluating the situation, then smiled. "I should leave." It was a smile that hurt Kyungri, more or less hurt her pride as well.

"Hmm," She nodded, trying to smile but Hyemi had already turned.

She messed up, Kyungri knew that as she watched Hyemi leave. Both the heat inside her body and the cold around intensifying.

Two decades, almost two decades of waiting for normality. And when it finally embraced her, she ruined it. When it finally happened, it scared her. Kyungri leaned on the bar, tears swelling up in her eyes. This is not how she imagined it happening, not even close.

,

The human body is and will always be marvellous. Its wonders are countless, and we humans realize that. We appreciate it and we love it. What we don't love, however, is being slightly different. Whether from the inside or outside, and Kyungri used to hate what differentiated her from her peers.

She used to hate herself; harm herself because of that. But it was a long time ago, and grown-up Kyungri promised herself she won't ever let that weak state consume her again. A sweet, tender promise that she made sure to keep. Kyungri hugged herself, feeling that same weakness. She was shivering as she sat there on the bar's cold floor, afraid. The same fear that controlled her teenage years.

Kyungri was sobbing, she didn't want to, but she was.

She wanted to be normal again, didn't she? She wanted to feel temperature again, then why wasn't she crying with joy instead of fear and sadness?

Kyungri didn't realize it yet, but she was crying the happiness she ignored, and her family. She was crying her years of waiting for something that was... overwhelming. Her warm tears were the only thing patting her back in the coldness.

,

Morning's light was nearly filling the small apartment, Kyungri hasn't slept, and she was still shivering despite the blankets she was covering herself with. It surprised her, and kind of made her cry again when she realized how freezing her apartment was. How the wooden floor felt through her socks, and how the metal handles and the surface of the table were biting at her fingers' tips.

Kyungri felt thirsty, but she was also sore from the constant shaking caused by the cold, which was something that her body hasn't done in seventeen years. Her stomach grumbled faintly, and her tears no longer streamed down her cheeks without permission. The bed felt safe, the warmth that was getting stronger as time went by felt safe. It was numbing.

,

When Kyungri woke up that afternoon, she was less scared, still confused, and above all, she was surprised that she recognized which one was the warmth, and which one was the cold.

Why did it happen now? How did it happen? How was she able to feel temperature again? All were questions blasting in her head as if her own voice wanted to nag her. Kyungri didn't care about the time, or what she should do exactly. She was just... lying there, not staring at anything specific. Somehow the faint noise coming from outside was comforting; it was ordinary. Her father's image crossed her mind, only the happy moments were standing in line to be remembered. She wondered what his reaction would have been.

,

While Kyungri knew she has to take a shower sooner or later, she kept staring at the water's handles of the sink for a couple of minutes. Getting one small part of her body under the water first seemed like a much better idea than excitedly jumping into the shower. Kyungri turned both the handles like she normally does, with the hot water's handle being turned a little slower.

Yesterday, and the days before, Kyungri would have reached out her hands without hesitation, but she also wouldn't have known how to describe cold... or heat. After a moment of staring at the water falling down the sink, she reached her hand under it, cold... She kept her hand there, letting the water touch every part of it; every knuckle. So cold! she pulled her hand quickly after she felt pain. Kyungri gasped, it was so cold, the water was so fucking cold, not adjusted to normal temperature! Her heart was racing, she felt the pulsing in her hand I was showering with cold water all this time?!

"Damn it." Kyungri held her hand with the other one, the pulsing pain of cold was still there, throbbing as if it wanted to come out through her skin.

,

After more than two hours, shower was a success. Kyungri didn't end up burning herself by mistake, and it might have taken her quite a long moment to gather her courage and step into the shower, but she did eventually. She did and neither the past nor the present were evident enough to disturb her. She was relaxed under the warm water, her muscles relaxed like they never did before. It felt, to her as she stood there, naked and willingly crying, it felt like her body was aching all this time and only now the ache was fading away. Every single part of her body felt like it was being healed, especially her heart. Especially her broken heart.

,

Kyungri took the rest of the week off. It won't be a lie, nor an exaggeration to say that sitting in front of the heater all day long wasn't tempting with only hunger and call of nature as motives to get up and do something, anything. Only a day had passed, but she already felt more... whole, in the embrace of warmth, the touch of cold was welcomed regardless, Kyungri felt more aware of how the things surrounding her were. She thought about herself, her teen self and the things she went through, about seeing her doctor, and about Hyemi. Kyungri had already decided she would see her again, if she managed to get over her embarrassment of nearly freaking out in front of her.

,

Kyungri stared at the bottle of milk and her favorite cereal, feeling uneasy. A bowl and a spoon in front of her on the table, she was patient; she was taking her time. She had tried drinking cold soda after much avoiding, and it simply felt awesome. It felt strange, how the cold liquid went down her throat, cooling her from the inside. Kyungri often wondered what was there beyond the taste of those drinks that can be enjoyed only if they are hot, or cold, and now she knew. Now she knew she was having only the half of everything.

Kyungri grabbed the cereal box, she could mourn about that fact later.

,

Two days later and cooking something for herself was out of the question. Actually, using the stove at all seemed like a bad idea. A mockery from life as Kyungri described to herself, a mockery towards her newfound fear of getting a burn. Kyungri clasped her bra, walking towards the dresser. Deliberately, she didn't take a quick look, or a focused one at her exposed abdomen and arms. The scars caused by burns were still there, they haven't changed their place nor disappeared. As small as they were, on her chest and around her breasts, on her tummy, and waist, a few along each arm. They were still there, and she didn't need to acknowledge them today.

Kyungri hurried to wear her clothes. She had yet to get used to the cold, or the warmth that the weather made it hard to achieve.

,

A couple of T-shirts, one thick sweater and her warmest jacket, if Kyungri could wear more without looking puffed she would have. Five days passed since that night, and maybe... just maybe going to see Hyemi this soon wasn't the best choice to make. Her senses were still alert to the minimum change in temperature that Kyungri was sure standing within three feet from someone was enough to feel like she was hugging a heater. But she was there, she was standing in front of the store where Hyemi works. There was no going back.

It occurred to her that she doesn't really know if she should do this. Kyungri had decided that it didn't matter, she wanted to apologize and only that, she wanted to just see her as well, but Kyungri denied that thought for no reason whatsoever, not try to see if meeting Hyemi meant losing the ability to feel temperature again like her doctor jokingly suggested. Kyungri frowned, she still can't believe her doctor asked if Hyemi would agree to do some tests.

Kyungri entered the store, feeling hesitant. She moved her bangs away, realizing that her hand was shaky. No, no, she doesn't want to be nervous. Kyungri forced herself to calm down, it didn't work.. again. She could identify the workers from their uniforms, and that was enough to make her clench her hands. She walked around the big store, doing her best at appearing calm. Kyungri pretended to be checking the clothes to avoid looking odd, wrinkles showed on her forehead once she noticed the price of a pretty top.

"Can I help you?"

Kyungri was startled, "Um, yeah," she started off, "I'm looking for Hyemi." No! No! Why did you ask?! She ignored her thoughts and added It's urgent, with a smile when the worker seemed unsure, looking at her from head to toe.

The worker didn't seem like she wanted to ask more, she pointed somewhere and left.

Kyungri thanked her despite the latter already walking away. She turned to the pointed direction, having doubts about herself, Maybe Hyemi told them about what happened. That thought only brought another and another till Kyungri realized where she was heading and the thoughts suddenly stopped storming.

She didn't get absurdly nervous, but it did feel like the mannequins wearing the trendy lingerie were staring right back at her.

If Kyungri was to analyze what happened at the bar that night, which she did, several times, there was no need to come all the way here and apologize to a stranger whom the chance of seeing again was kind of... non existent. A stranger, who might be the one who changed her life, or was there at the moment when her life somehow changed, neither Kyungri or her doctor decided which theory was more believable yet.

Kyungri pulled her jacket's sleeves past her hands, she was tired of overthinking. She looked at the clothes as she passed by them for diversion, she was tired from the lack of sleep as well, the cold too, the cold wasn't helping. There were a few people at the lingerie's section, but not Hyemi.

The beauty of the elegant undergarments was instantly noticed, Kyungri focused on the garments, they were simply appealing. An orchid colored, mesh bustier caught her attention, its revealing quality was... quite interesting. She was about to reach out her hand, wanting to touch the fabric when a familiar voice made her turn.

"Hello, can I help y-- ou?"

The shock on Hyemi's face was vague, making Kyungri put more efforts in silencing her doubts. She smiled, "Hi." A shy smile that wasn't returned.

There was silence, there was a stare that could last long and there was Kyungri still doing the same failed try in controlling her heartbeats.

Hyemi's Hi came a bit late, and soft. Kyungri kept her smile, "Do you have a minute? To talk?" Although Kyungri put in mind all possible answers she might get, Hyemi looking offended still made her feel on edge.

"What do you wanna talk about?"

The fact that Hyemi wasn't standing close to her only increased her curiosity about her warmth. The thought of it sent a faint shiver through her spine. She kept their gaze till Hyemi turned to adjust the small clothes on shelves. Kyungri took the chance to let out a muted sigh. "I... I wanted to apologize about that night," she said, freely observing Hyemi's details. The way she arranged her hair, straight with its ends slightly curled up. It gave her a much calmer aura. "It wasn't how I wanted our meeting to end." Kyungri felt the whole atmosphere around them getting calmer when Hyemi looked at her, "I mean, I didn't want to make you upset."

That's not what you planned to say! Kyungri smiled, hoping it'll hide her nervousness, "I'm sorry. It was rude of me to act the way I did." She finished, either she could ruin this more, or ruin her confident image more.

Hyemi turned to her again, a hand on her waist, "What made you act like that?"

Kyungri gazed at her eyes, almost taking her time to admire them; admire Hyemi. She felt that Hyemi's gaze held her at her place, it wasn't a bad thing. "It's complicated." It is.

Hyemi kept looking at her, her expression sending a message and Kyungri got it. That is not enough.

"Well, you said you're sorry. I have to get back to work now." Hyemi walked past her, brushing her arm, giving Kyungri a bit of her warmth, "and I wasn't upset, by the way." Her heels' click-clack paining Kyungri to a certain extent.

,

Kyungri entered her apartment, shoulders sagged and a bag of fast food, that she wasn't enthusiastic to eat, in her hand. The noise coming from the bar downstairs was audible, but that didn't bother her. It never did. She put the keys and the food on the kitchen's table, but kept her jacket on as she went to lie on the couch, to half-lie on the couch.

Her thoughts refusing to let her rest. You never told anyone, her own voice told her, you never tried to know what they think. Kyungri kicked her boots off and lay properly. A smile managed to brighten up her face. Closing her eyes, she thought about how Hyemi seemed unexpectedly and gently.. strong. In a way that suited her; in a way that made Kyungri more interested despite the embarrassment and how things didn't go as she thought they would.

,

Hyemi doesn't control the weather, not Kyungri's weather at least. One theory had been proven to be false and that lifted up Kyungri's spirits. The unmoved Hyemi's image in her head might have a hand in that too. Kyungri got better at enduring the cold, her shivers didn't last for minutes non stop, nor did they leave body sore. She called her doctor, telling her the happy news of her mysterious condition remaining a mystery. A couple of days passed since she last saw Hyemi and everything was going fine.

She wanted to see Hyemi again, Kyungri didn't exactly say that out loud. She just let the thought smoothly cross her mind, and linger comfortably. For someone whose life just changed completely, Kyungri was starting to feel concerned about approaching Hyemi more than this change being temporary.

,

Kyungri didn't head to the lingerie section right away when she entered the store, her visit might or might not end up being awkward, but she didn't need to make it awkward right away.

The lingerie section was empty, or so it seemed from afar. She walked along the aisles till she spotted the back of someone kneeling at one corner, her arms stretched under a shelf.

Kyungri smiled, recognizing Hyemi from her small waist, and hair of course. She walked towards her, ignoring her hesitation. Hyemi was trying to pull something out. Soft, throaty groans were audible in the silence of the store thanks to the lack of customers.

"Do you need help with that?" Kyungri kept a reasonable distance between them, her stomach fluttering.

Hyemi flinched, the same shock from last time appeared on her face when she saw Kyungri. That shock made the black haired girl somewhat... excited.

"What are you doing here?"

"Shopping." She answered, her attention drifting to the sensual garments till an evident calmness made her look at Hyemi again, the latter was looking back at her, clearly not believing her. "I am!" Kyungri smiled.

Hyemi focused on the task in her hands again, "Boyshorts are that way."

The teasing behind Hyemi's words surprised her more than the assumption, Kyungri chuckled, "Wow, how did you know?!"

Their eyes lingered on each other when Hyemi turned to her. Giving a questioning look that made Kyungri keep smiling. A smile not showing her teeth, yet showing twinkles in her eyes. "I couldn't find them." She said calmly, with an unintended innocence. She had actually wanted to buy a couple of bras, but anything to break the ice.

Hyemi didn't break their gaze as she stood. "Follow me please." Her tone too serious, and her smile forcibly professional.

Kyungri stared at her walking ahead before following her. She seemed still not upset, Kyungri realized, her smile remaining.

,

With every warm bite Kyungri takes, and every refreshing sip, her fear of losing this shape of normality again was decreased. Every thought of Hyemi was helping as well. A few days passed before Kyungri decided to visit the store again, she hadn't ignored the other meaning of Hyemi's attitude. She doesn't want to see you, it says, stop coming to the store, it says. Kyungri thought about it over and over again, she tried at least. Her thoughts would somehow turn around and suddenly she would be thinking about what's Hyemi like when she wakes up? Is she a morning person? Her thoughts would go on and on till she would wonder about what's Hyemi's favorite song, and does she prefer tea or coffee?

Kyungri held the shopping bags with her left hand as she examined a pair of jeans with her right, she actually shopped before coming to the store. She asked one of the workers to bring her a pair of her size, and headed to the fitting rooms to try it out.

It was pretty logical, coming back again, Kyungri tried to simplify it to herself once, Hyemi was attractive, and you're attracted to her. Kyungri had ignored the part where her condition complicated things a little bit.

The fitting rooms were at one side of the store, all occupied at that moment and a line of three women waiting ahead of her. Kyungri waited as well, making the effort to not look at the lingerie section, which was close to the fitting rooms. It was a small effort, Kyungri turned, and noticed, after a second or two, Hyemi. She was talking with a customer, pointing at a garment while keeping her eyes on the woman.

She seemed confident, Kyungri looked elsewhere quickly, of course she looks confident, she's selling something, she's supposed to look sure about it! Kyungri frowned, the burst of warmth inside of her making her uncomfortable as the line moved.

She could be direct, and tell Hyemi what happened. Kyungri thought about that, but... being direct meant telling Hyemi what took her precious years of her life to cope with, and that, she wasn't ready for just yet.

When there was just one customer standing ahead of her, Kyungri's attempts at looking at anywhere but the lingerie section were pointless as Hyemi walked her customer to the fitting rooms. Kyungri's shock may have been more obvious than Hyemi's. She felt heat in her cheeks, a strange sensation that Kyungri never felt before. She smiled at Hyemi, whose brows were furrowed, and looked ahead.

No, she didn't see this coming, and no, her heart didn't calm down even after Hyemi left. There goes her plan of buying bras.

,

Kyungri had started to think that being ready or not was irrelevant. Hyemi was the present now, she told herself, and you want that pres-- Huh, what? Wait, no! Kyungri cursed loudly, feeling frustrated. She was holding a lighter, standing in front of the stove. It has been almost two weeks, and as expected; as she herself expected, Hyemi was still on her mind; Hyemi was still making her sleepless.

"Note to self: Life used to be better without heat," Kyungri was angry, "or cold... especially cold." She had been standing at her place for a while now, wanting to make ginger tea. Her period cramps were taking the best of her. She still hadn't gotten the courage to light the fire. Kyungri kept encouraging herself, mentally, you can't possibly burn yourself, just light it like you used to do! She reached her hands, believing in herself.

,

Kyungri did burn herself with the kettle, twice, and she won't ever tell this to anyone, but she cried for quite a few minutes due to the unfamiliar, momentary pain. She cried, feeling more... much more alive, and better. Better than before.

Kyungri ran out of anger to be angry, and her sadness regarding what used to be and how it was now was nowhere to be felt. Kyungri was alright now.

,

Hyemi always knew that Minha was rarely reasonable, but to suggest that she should go and talk with Kyungri only proved that she and reason never knew each other. It frustrated her a lot, what her friend said, but it had yet to reach Kyungri's accomplishment in that matter. Hyemi smiled to the customer nearing her section. Her shift has just started and she still couldn't avoid looking at the entrance every few minutes. Will Kyungri come today as well?

You made the first step already, why not get past this bump you two end up at and continue from there? Minha told her last night, while eating her third sandwich. It took Hyemi all of her willpower to not snap at her. She still replied, stressing her words, You didn't see how she was that night. After shaking my hand, ugh it was too awkward. Hyemi helped the customer with patience and a welcoming smile. It was so awful actually, not just awkward, but God forbid Hyemi mention that word in front of Minha. But she said sorry, didn't she?! and she came back again. Twice! Minha might have sounded more convincing if her mouth wasn't full, that only means she's still interested, Minha continued.

I'm not even sure she was in the first place, Hyemi didn't say that out loud, but that was a thought that made her regret following Minha's plan even more. Although Kyungri's visits to the store did confuse her, and maybe, a tiny maybe to be exact, made her reconsider her wish of never wanting to see her again. The regret of purposely dropping her card that night still didn't budge an inch. She shouldn't have followed Minha's plan, and most importantly, she shouldn't have believed in Minha's words when she told her that Kyungri had her eyes on her that night.

Actually, Hyemi should stop thinking about Minha, and focus on what the customer had asked her just now. "Oh, no, discounts are only for Bikinis, Corsets and Teddies." She answered, guiding the woman to the fitting rooms. Hell might freeze, roses might turn blue, but she would in no way make a move before Kyungri stop being a creep and explain herself. You're actually still interested in her as well, Minha had said lastly, while adjusting the sandwich to take a bite. Hyemi just kept staring at her, seeing no point in arguing facts.

,

She started adjusting what the customers checked or misplaced, still wanting the thoughts of Kyungri to stop flowing when she's at work. But neither those thoughts stopped, nor did Kyungri herself. Hyemi resisted her annoyance when she saw Kyungri at her section. She pursed her lips, appearing normal, and walked towards her. The black haired girl smiled to a worker, who was offering her help. A sweet smile that no one can deny its beauty.

Just before she reached them, Kyungri noticed her, that sweet smile becoming bigger. Hyemi heard her thank Jin, her colleague, before the latter smiled to Kyungri, and whispered a wow to Hyemi. Was she asking for me again? Hyemi wondered, then quickly decided, right at that moment, that whatever Kyungri was doing should sto-- Is she blushing?!

"Hi."

Hyemi's steadiness didn't get shaken by her anger, nor by the tickling in her stomach. "Shopping again?" Hyemi folded her arms. It was a growing feeling, the tickling, it was sweet and it was irritating.

Kyungri actually laughed, softly. "Yes." Even her tone was soft, "but also to see you. I think we should talk."

Hyemi heard her right, and no, she didn't like what she heard. "We should?" Her eyebrow arched. She didn't like that Kyungri said that. Hyemi wanted to reply angrily, if only her anger was that strong. If only Kyungri didn't seem so different.

"I... want to talk to you, if you would give me the chance."

Something indeed was different, Hyemi couldn't miss the look in Kyungri's eyes. "I already did in case you forgot." She turned away, suddenly there were plenty of garments that needed to be adjusted. The conflicted feelings she had about Kyungri weren't helping her look annoyed, or stay that much annoyed. Kyungri's sparkling eyes didn't help either.

"Then give me a second one," Kyungri was behind her, "please. I won't take much of your time."

Hyemi didn't look at her, she just focused on maintaining her calmness. "I'm busy right now."

"I'll wait... um, till you finish work."

Hyemi was sure she just misplaced that panty instead of adjusting it. The way Kyungri sounded was unmistakably wanting. Not desperate, no, just... "Hyemi." Just... faintly wanting.

Minha's image appeared in her mind, Hyemi swore she would never listen to her again. She turned to Kyungri, "My shift just started." It has been over an hour since it started, "It's two hour shift."

"I'll wait!" Kyungri seemed sure with that fast reply.

That was the difference, yes, she looked... determined. "That coffee shop," she continued, "the one with a green leaf on its board, I'll wait for you... there." Her smile still as bright, her cheeks becoming red again.

Hyemi still wanted to say no, she really did, but she didn't.

,

Sleepiness wasn't that strong after the second cup of Latte, its warmth was enough to make Kyungri less bothered when twenty minutes passed since Hyemi's shift had ended. People came and went, but she stayed, and waited. Kyungri held the paper cup between her hands, it was half filled, still warm. The voices of the people around her made it easier to stop her mind from scaring her with thoughts of Hyemi not coming. She focused on the people, on their faces and clothes; on the way they moved their hands while talking, and what food they ordered.

"It's a diamond, not a leaf."

Hyemi's voice took her attention, she looked up, standing while Hyemi stared at her. She was wearing casual clothes and not her uniform.

"It is. I realized it just now." Kyungri smiled, gesturing for Hyemi to sit. "A while ago, actually." She sat, Hyemi's calm voice lingering in her mind; Hyemi's flowery perfume engulfing her with warmth that quickly faded away. She kept her smile even though Hyemi didn't seem like she was about to give one. "Would you like to order something?" Kyungri failed to hide her nervousness with her rushed question, "Or, um.. they have nice cupcakes as well."

"I'm good. Thanks."

Kyungri nodded, looking at her own hands. The paper cup's fading warmth was helping her keep her confidence when Hyemi seemed bothered.

"So how are you?" She looked at Hyemi, who raised her eyebrow.

"What did you want to talk about?" Her seriousness that was evident through her tired eyes and the way she sat, back straight, leaning on her left elbow that was on the table, made Kyungri tense.

"Right." Kyungri tried her best to not show her nervousness. "I... I've had a condition since a young age." Her hands becoming sweaty, she tried to keep looking at Hyemi, wanting to observe every look the latter will show. "IT, my doctor called it. Insensitivity to Temperature. Have you ever heard of it?!"

With the confusion showing on her face, Hyemi answered. "Yes, I think so."

"It is a rare condition that is usually... um, mostly, inborn." Kyungri continued, her younger-self's fears crawling back from within. "I had it since I was ten years old." She looked away.

But when she focused on Hyemi again. The latter's subtle shock made her rush to finish talking.

"My doctor said I'm the first who had it years after birth, with no obvious cause to it."

Hyemi kept her gaze fixed, her eyebrows furrowed. And while Kyungri knew those old fears of being pitied, or worse, were pointless now, they still shook her confidence. "I used to not feel heat or cold, or pain caused by them," she clenched her hands, "till I met you that night... at the bar when you came looking for your work card. When... when you were standing next to me."

The shock that appeared on Hyemi's face made Kyungri swallow, her heartbeats unsteady.

"You're serious..."

Kyungri smiled, "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

,

"I'm sorry. Of course you are serious." Of course she was, Hyemi leaned back on her chair, looking away. She didn't know how to react to such news. "I'm just... shocked." Shocked by the part regarding her rather than the whole matter.

"Now you understand why I reacted that way." Hyemi noticed the gentlness in Kyungr's smile as she was looking at her. Hint of sadness in her eyes. "It was sca--" Her eyes quivered. She looked away, finishing, "It was unexpected."

Hyemi appreciated the noise of the mall, it was enough to make things less awkward; less calm. Kyungri's hesitation throughout the whole conversation didn't prepare her for the look she had in her eyes just now. It made Hyemi uneasy, she didn't know what to say. She always knew what to say.

"Why me?" She tried to sound normal, not wanting to seem repulsed. Her eyes focusing on Kyungri's worried ones again. "I.. I mean, did I do something? Or... or I just happen to be there?"

"I don't know," she chuckled. Her tone this whole time conveying a lot more than what had been said.

Kyungri spoke again, staring at her hands, "I went to see my doctor and did some tests. The results came out the same as before, there was nothing wrong, or strange."

It interested her, the condition that Kyungri had, but she felt that she couldn't ask about it. She smiled when Kyungri looked at her again, "It must have been a lot to deal with." And for the first time, she felt hesitant, even a little guilty for treating Kyungri the way she did.

Kyungri nodded, "It is over now I guess. I hope, I mean." Her smile turning to a calm giggle.

Hyemi smiled softly, looking down. She knew there was nothing to say that won't make her look like she was feeling sorry for her, she just made sure to remember Kyungri's smile.

"Anyway, um," Kyungri said after a moment, "I'm sorry again for making you feel uncomfortable that night."

With hoping the mood could become bright, Hyemi teased her, "Just that night?"

Thankfully it worked as confusion showed on Kyungri's face for mere seconds before laughing while covering her mouth with her fist, her cheeks turning red. It was a lovely scene to Hyemi, who smiled in amusement.

"Yeah, about... my visits to the store," Kyungri kept smiling, "I honestly wanted to shop. I needed new bras."

A moment passed before she realized what Kyungri said, "You didn't even buy one!" She laughed heartily when Kyungri's face turned completely red, laughing as well. All conflicted feelings disappearing, leaving the essential of them all, Liking.

,

Kyungri didn't dare to hope for such a moment, tears tickled her eyes due to the laughing, but it was Hyemi's sweet laugh that made her rejoice. She was thankful for this moment.

"I'm planning to buy some, I mean." She said when their laughter trailed off.

"Hmm, I think I can help with that."

Hyemi's gaze, Hyemi's soft smile made a warm sensation rush inside of her. From her stomach to her limbs, through her veins and nerves till it ended at her heart. It was a rush that bloomed many beautiful flowers within her soul, flowers she never knew still existed.

"I would love that." Kyungri said, loving the way Hyemi looked at her. It was a look that she saw only once, only that night they first met.

Hyemi's smile was still as beautiful when she looked away, looking at the people around them. Kyungri also focused elsewhere, not wanting to stare at Hyemi, or get caught staring. It was clear, the change in Hyemi's mood, from bothered to relaxed.

,

"I should go now. It is getting late." Hyemi didn't seem hurried as she got up, "I'll see you."

When? How? Kyungri's hesitation to ask was pointless. "Thursday night?" She got up, her heart pounding when Hyemi looked at her. "Would you want to see me... Thursday night?"

Kyungri didn't know she could be this sure about someone or something, but she was sure about what Hyemi's smile meant.

,

Kyungri didn't wear layers of clothes anymore, she got used to the cold weather; she loved it. She got used to the heat of her body and how it changes. She loved hot showers, and being tucked under warm blankets, which made her feel like she was winning against the freezing cold. Happy Kyungri, who finally left all of the past behind her, loved feeling the faintly cold snow on her face, and the increasing coziness inside of her when she thinks about Hyemi.

,

It has been a while since Kyungri went out on a date, that was a fact, but was it that long that she completely had no idea about what she should do? Or say in that particular moment? No, she was just nervous and didn't want to ruin it. She peeked at Hyemi, who was focused on reading the menu, she feared Hyemi will notice her, but that thought didn't have an effect comparing with the other one saying: Hyemi was exactly how she looks, and more than how she looks.

Hyemi looked at her all of a sudden, making her faintly flinch. She smiled, a big smile, returning her focus to the opened menu in her hands, people's chatters around them, and the clatter becoming obvious to her again. Kyungri's smile lingered, all the heat that she was feeling becoming centered in her cheeks.

,

"The bar is yours?! Wow, that must be a lot to take care of." Hyemi said after wiping her mouth, eyes still a bit wide.

"It was... at first, but now with Mella's help, it got a lot better." She paused, thinking about her father. He was just a memory now, not a sad one. "It was my father's, he left it for me... before passing away." Finishing that with a smile that she didn't want to seem sad.

"Oh.." Hyemi straightened her back, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Kyungri thanked her with a low voice, and a smile. Her thoughts drifting away to those happy times she spent with him. She looked at Hyemi again, whose beautiful smile reappeared. "So, enough about me," she started with a giggle, not wanting things to become dramatic, "how long have you been working at the store?!"

Hyemi's smile turned to a soft laugh. "We just started talking about you."

Kyungri laughed as well, "Yeah, um, let's take turns. Now is your turn, let's talk about you." Kyungri leaned forward a bit, gazing at her.

"What do you want to know?" Hyemi asked, cutely.

Everything, Kyungri wanted to say. If not to know Hyemi more, then just to hear her voice.

,

It was nice, being with Hyemi like that, talking and laughing with each other so normally. Hyemi picked the dessert for them, wanting to guess Kyungri's favorite one.

They left the restaurant, and decided to walk a little.

"I'm glad you chose this restaurant, the food was nice." Kyungri said after a moment of silence.

"Even the dessert?"

"Maybe not the dessert."

The way their laughter blended together as people passed by them, some walking in a hurry while others walking with no purpose but the walking itself, helped Kyungri to ignore the chilly weather. Hyemi had unknowingly picked the least favorite cake for Kyungri, which the latter still ate all of it.

"It wasn't that bad actually."

Hyemi turned to her, laughing, "Wasn't that bad? You looked like you were struggling with the cake!"

"Did I?" Kyungri was looking at her, "I thought I did well hiding it." Least favorite might have been an understatement, Kyungri hates cheesecakes, but... Hyemi was still laughing now, genuinely, while covering her mouth, the calm winds moving her hair a bit, which completely made eating that cake worth it.

When Hyemi's laugh trailed off, a moment passed before she spoke again, "I'll get it right next time." Her eyes meeting Kyungri's with a meaning in them. It made Kyungri a little overwhelmed. Just a little.

"Please do." Kyungri said, feeling happy to see Hyemi's beautiful eyes this close. She felt happy to know that Hyemi wanted to meet her again.

,

The hints of Kyungri's shyness were sweetly surprising, Hyemi noticed them; loved them. Kyungri's twinkling eyes were beautiful, Hyemi wanted to keep looking at them; she wanted to be looked at by them, and enjoy the growing affection towards their owner. Hyemi thought about them a lot, she thought about Kyungri a lot, and often found herself staring at nowhere specific with a smile brightening her face, a few minutes had passed.

,

Over three weeks passed, with four other dates with Kyungri, before Hyemi realized that there were feelings come into existence strongly.

Hyemi observed those feelings within her, they were affecting her heartbeats and making her slightly shudder whenever she let them engulf her. Those feelings were getting stronger; Hyemi let them become stronger. Right from the time Kyungri apologized, she let them live.

,

Their fifth date was unplanned, not by Hyemi at least. Hyemi's smile quivered for a bit as she carefully watched Kyungri take a small bite from the cake. There it is again, Hyemi thought, the wrinkles on Kyungri's forehead.

She let out a breath. "Do you even like desserts?" Her shoulder sagged.

Kyungri chuckled, covering her mouth. "I do, I swear."

"Then how come none of these are your favorite?"

"These two I never tried before. And this one... was too bitter." She was still smiling, her cheeks a bit red, which amused Hyemi a lot despite her annoyance. She folded her arms, leaning back.

There it is again, Hyemi was caught into Kyungri's intended gaze when their eyes met, the heaviness that Hyemi would feel inside of her whenever Kyungri looked at her like that. In her heart; in her stomach, moving through each and every nerve as if it was electricity that needed to be discharged.

"I'm not playing this game anymore." Hyemi said, normally.

"Aw, don't be upset. You'll get it right, like I got yours right, from the first time."

That heaviness was gone as a certain amount of pride boiled inside of her.

,

The ride home was nice, Hyemi tried to get hints out of Kyungri about her favorite dessert but the latter wasn't oblivious. They reached Hyemi's place first. It was the first time they shared a cab, and sitting side by side in the backseat with an ocean-wide space between them was enough for Hyemi to realize that Kyungri's relationship with heat was more complicated than what the black haired girl had told her.

I am getting used to it, not as fast as I want to, but... Kyungri started off the other day, a bright look on her face. They were having their second date at a traditional restaurant, and waiting for the food to cool down. Kyungri was at least, Hyemi joined in when things became obvious. I do eat warm... food, it is just not this warm with steam still coming out of it, she giggled, looking down at the small pot of stew.

Kyungri didn't sound sad as she spoke, yet Hyemi realized there was more than what the older girl showed.

,

And although what Kyungri said on their third date was what explained more bits of the matter.

If you had asked me before, what was it like to not feel someone's warmth or their cold skin, I wouldn't have known how to answer. Kyungri smiled, But now I know that before, everything was... empty, while now... she was gazing at her, everything feels so alive and... and radiating. She seemed so happy; relaxed.

It was also Kyungri's obvious hesitation when she held her hand on their fourth date, and how shaky she looked for a second as their fingers entwined. And it was that shy kiss that Kyungri placed on her right cheek at the end of that night. It was a sweet kiss that concluded it all.

Kyungri was trying, Hyemi could tell, she was trying to make them... work.

,

Hyemi smiled when they stopped at her apartment's door, facing Kyungri.

Kyungri's nose was still red from the windy weather, drops of rain on her shoulders. "Winter festival is opening next Monday. Maybe we could check it after your shift ends... you know, if you want." Her happy smile mirroring Hyemi's.

Hyemi, who didn't want Kyungri to keep asking if she wants. Of course she wanted to be with her.

"I know! That's why we're closing early next week, we can catch the opening." No, her tone wasn't overly excited.

"Even better!" Kyungri laughed calmly, her tone wasn't that much of a difference from hers. "I'll come by and we can walk there. Since it's close." She finished.

"Sounds great."

The feeling of not knowing what to say attacked Hyemi again, her smile turning to become a nervous one as the flowing of their excitement started to fade away. Their gaze lasting as Hyemi's heart was doing that sweet, bodily-trembling thing again.

"So, I'll see you." Kyungri said, redness appearing in her cheeks. The soft smile she had on her face as she neared her with no signs of hesitation, and the noticeable perfume were all as important as the fluttering Hyemi felt in her stomach. Hyemi turned her head towards Kyungri just in time, just before the latter could kiss her right cheek again.

Their eyes on each other's, the calmness of the building became too calm, Kyungri faintly showing confusion as she straightened her back, and probably a bit of fear. While Hyemi... Hyemi let whatever little steadiness left in her help her close the small distance between them. She wanted them to work as well, she wanted to share her feelings with Kyungri.

Kyungri didn't back away, her eyes were shaky as if she was searching for an explanation in Hyemi's eyes, the latter held two of Kyungri's left hand's fingers. Hyemi gave her one, she neared her face, looking at her parted lips before gazing at her eyes. She could feel how tensed Kyungri was, her own nervousness testing her as Kyungri's warm, short breaths became obvious, hitting her jaw and lips. Her heart pounded, her knees trembled when they touched Kyungri's.

Hyemi closed her eyes, letting her lips hesitantly take Kyungri's lower one between them.

,

Kyungri had her self-consciousness to steady her in such an unexpected moment. Her left hand becoming a fist around the hand tenderly holding two of her fingers, her lips moving to match the warm lips kissing her, although a heartbeat late.

No words like Magical were screaming in her mind to describe the feeling she felt. It was overwhelming, feeling the increasing warmth of Hyemi's skin; the softness of her lips. She didn't know if her senses were numbed, or extremely alert that she managed to focus on how close, finally close, their bodies were.

She had kissed before, but those kisses never made warm clouds form inside her tummy.

Kyungri didn't let go of Hyemi's hand when the latter backed away a bit. She kept her eyes closed, unconsciously leaning forward till their foreheads touched. Her smile tickled her mouth when Hyemi let out a soft giggle, her warm scent surrounding Kyungri.

It was magical, it was everything her high school friends said it'll be like.

,

If Hyemi had foreseen her future, this exact moment, long time ago, she wouldn't have believed it, her friends wouldn't have believed it either.

Hyemi leaned on her right fist on the coffee table, staring at Kyungri, who was sitting next to her, leaning back on the foot of the couch, and talking about that one time she ran away from home.

She seemed tiny in that white, thin sweater, with yellow straps on its hems. An exaggeration that Hyemi didn't realize. The soothing sound of the pouring rain as it hit the metallic fire escape and windows was an unneeded completeness to the moment. Hyemi was so relaxed, the rain might have a part in that, but the biggest part was Kyungri. Her voice, and small gestures, the way she looked at her and casually touched her.

"I didn't even know where I would go, not even when I reached the bus station." Kyungri said with a laugh, "It was probably the stupidest thing I have done."

"No, that prank you did to the headmaster in high school was stupider."

"I... shouldn't have told you that story. And I didn't know she was the headmaster."

"I'm glad you told me that story, now I know how wild you were."

Hyemi backed away, as if there was enough space to do so, bursting in laughter when the older girl tried to grab her. And she was still laughing when Kyungri managed to hold her.

Her senses told her how close they were when Kyungri pulled her to her chest, her mind pointed out how soft Kyungri's shoulders were when her hands were pressed against them.

"I'm not telling you any more stories till you tell me an embarrassing one about you."

"I have a feeling that you will." Hyemi teased, letting out a bit loud laugh when Kyungri tried to tickle her from the waist. She wriggled, the fuzzy feeling consuming her was only the happiness that Kyungri created. She was pushing Kyungri from her shoulders till a wrong move caused her to fall back, her hand clenching on the woolen sweater.

The sweater tearing up was unexpected, the clear marks on Kyungri's skin were as well, while what was uncontrollable was her gasp. Her eyes fixed on the exposed skin.

Kyungri quickly looked down at her own body, letting go of Hyemi. The shock appearing on her face as she tried to adjust the sweater was instantly noticed.

"Oh my god, Kyungri, what happened?!"

She reached her hand to touch the stretched skin, but Kyungri was standing already. Keeping the ripped part of the sweater in its place. She seemed... scared. Hyemi couldn't define the look on Kyungri's face as anything else.

She stood as well, "I'm sorry, I..."

,

Having a debate about whether the flashbacks of those nights that Kyungri spent awake, a lighter in her hand, were worse than Hyemi seeing what she had done to herself was pointless. Both were making her heart race, and gathering tears in her eyes.

"I sh-- I should go home. It's late." She fought her tears, and tried to walk past Hyemi, she could feel the shakiness trying to take over her as the seconds went by, but Hyemi quickly held her, two firm grips on her waist, keeping her right where she was standing.

"Don't leave."

Her heart was paining her with its rapid beats, but she wasn't angry. The fears were whispering in her head, but she wasn't weak. She wanted to run away; she didn't want to run away.

Hyemi's voice was as firm as her grips, but perhaps that wasn't entirely a good thing. It showed Kyungri how much exhausted she was at the same time as it highlighted the worry, and nothing but worry in Hyemi's eyes.

"I don't want you to leave." Hyemi's grips relaxed, then tightened again. She was concerned. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, I won't ask. Just don't leave." It was so obvious that Kyungri felt small for reacting to the inevitable like that. "It is late, and raining."

Kyungri didn't realize how hard she was holding her sweater from revealing her body till she loosened her hold a bit.

Hyemi seeing her naked body was one possible ending to this relationship, which Kyungri thought about a lot, and prepared what she would say when the time comes.

The time has come, and Kyungri was a grown-up to realize she shouldn't fight its current.

She looked down, "I'm sorry." It slipped her mouth, realizing that freaking out wasn't an option, and that Hyemi was probably afraid too. She heard her own voice when she gazed at Hyemi again, the voice that told her this could work... if only she gave it the chance its deserve, the chance she wants to give. The chance she never gave her past relationships nor close friends.

"I'm sorry." She repeated. "This... this isn't how I wanted to tell you." She let out a calm laugh, her voice becoming a shaky whisper as she continued. "Not like this at all."

Hyemi's gentleness as she embraced her was enough to bring the tears she fought back.

"Who did this to you?!"

Hyemi's worried whisper was enough to make one or two fall.

"I did."

,

The rain wasn't falling as hard, Kyungri just noticed. They were lying under the blankets on Hyemi's bed, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She was wearing Hyemi's t-shirt instead of her ripped sweater and although she could ignore the t-shirt part, she couldn't possibly ignore the fact that this was Hyemi's bedroom, and this was Hyemi's bed.

Hyemi hadn't ask her anything, and she could feel that both of them weren't sleepy just yet.

"Did I scare you?" She turned fully on her right side.

Hyemi didn't open her eyes, but she might have smiled. The small space between them made Kyungri less nervous.

"Why would you scare me?"

"I kind of freaked out... again."

"Kyungri, The only time you almost scared me was that time you came to the store and bought Boyshorts." Her smile was wide, showing her teeth.

That memory brought a smile to her face, and erased a heaviness that Kyungri didn't realize was still there. "Hyemi," she waited till she opened her eyes. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not freaking out."

"Why would I freak out?"

Kyungri kept her smile, "Umm, there is the hideous scars part, and there is the I did it to myself part."

"They aren't hideous, Kyungri, an--"

"You haven't seen the rest."

"And," Hyemi stressed, "we all hurt ourselves one way or another."

"I know." Kyungri closed her eyes, she really knew.

It was too comforting, lying there next to Hyemi, and talking about something that she thought won't be easy to talk about.

"Why did you do it?" Hyemi asked after a moment.

Kyungri had the answers that she never knew how to say, she knew her reasons very well. "I was angry." She reached her hand to hold Hyemi's right one that was resting near the pillow. "I was trying to see if it came back. I wanted it to come back." She paused, making sure she was telling the story and not venting. "Nothing felt like they said it will. I really wanted it to come back."

She was holding Hyemi's pinky finger, just playing with it as if to push the seriousness away.

"They didn't hurt at all, though." Kyungri continued, laughing quitely. "A paper cut, and even period cramps hurt like hell, but burns were just like... being uncomfortable. It was the best and worst part."

There was a sudden calmness that made her focus on Hyemi's eyes, the latter was just staring at her. It made her say the first thing that came to her mind. "Now did I scare you?"

Hyemi let out a breath, it was a laugh. "Kyungri, I don't think you can scare me at all." She turned on her other side, taking Kyungri's hand with her.

Without hesitation, Kyungri let herself near her till the small space between them was no longer there.

"Well, I don't think you will ever know my favorite cake." She tried. Her face was too close to Hyemi, and she loved that, Hyemi's warmth was too strong to not surrender to.

Hyemi laughed, "I already know, Orange-vanilla cake lover."

The surprise was gone in a matter of two seconds when Kyungri remembered the story she told earlier. The story where she ran away from home, and ate the best Orange-vanilla cake at the bus station.

day six: "warm velvet" for x_disturbed_x

unnimod — Sat, 27 Jun 2015 16:37:55 GMT

Title: Warm Velvet
Recipient: x_disturbed_x
Fandom/Pairing: Red Velvet/Yerim-centric, hints at pairings
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of (very) minor character death
Summary Yeri thinks she knows what she wants to be when she grows up.
Author's notes: Thank you to the recipient for the great prompts, and I hope this story is something you can like. Thank you to sk for not yelling at me, and to the mods for being so understanding.

This story is a loose interpretation of the Automatic video. I decided to use their stage names to remove the localization of the setting.

Yeri knows exactly what she wants from life. All the girls do. A nice house, a rich husband, maybe some children eventually that she can pass off to a nanny, she hasn't really thought about that much. But she definitely wants a white dress, with French lace, to get married in. She draws it sometimes, the tiny pencil lines overlapping, the questions she's never thought to ask stitching themselves into the web of lace surrounding the paper Yeri's neck, wrists, waist. The face won't come into view though, no matter how much she tries to get the shape right.

"You draw such lovely pictures," her mother says, smiling. "Can you draw me a landscape? Maybe the orchard outside." Yeri doesn't really like drawing the orchard, she's drawn it over and over again, apple blossoms thickly covering branches with new promise, the lush greenery of summer growth, autumn with its heavy bounty of redly swollen fruit, winter, everything fallen and stripped away.

"Don't frown, child, you'll wrinkle prematurely," her mother always says, tracing a delicate forefinger over Yeri's brow, and Yeri will look up and smile, and draw another orchard, branches shackled by blossoms and leaves, fruit and ice.

Sometimes she doesn't understand herself at all, but then she thinks about her perfect future and she can forget everything else. Maybe there'll be a war too, so that her husband will be away and she won't have to see him. Yeri stops the selfish thought in its tracks, but it always comes back. She knows that her mother misses her father.

Right?

It's somehow not a surprise though, when her governess tells her in hushed tones one morning at breakfast that she's being sent away. The planes buzz overhead sometimes, and her mother turns white and Yeri is always sent away.

"You'll like your aunts," her mother says, when Yeri goes to her in the afternoon to say goodbye. The roses are twining around the trellis where her mother sits, dapples of light blinking over her soft brown hair. Her mouth is pale, like the dusky pink roses that grow over the arch of the gazebo, and Yeri doesn't want to kiss her goodbye but she does anyway.

"I love you mother," she says, and waves goodbye at the door. Her mother has a handkerchief knotted between her fingers, crumpled white and a single letter embroidered—her father's initial.

Yeri's handkerchiefs have her own initial on them, as she sits in the corner and watches the maid carefully fold together the last of the contents of her trunk.

"What do your handkerchiefs have embroidered on them?" she asks, without thinking, and the maid looks startled for a moment before smiling back.

"I have flowers," she replies, smiling out the window at the rose garden just in sight over the sill, before going back to carefully tucking Yeri's petticoats over the top and closing the trunk with a satisfying click.

Yeri finds, surprisingly, that she's glad to be going.

Yeri has four aunts. She only knows them from letters, twisting writing like ivy, green ink on creamy paper with birthday greetings, holiday wishes, and thank you notes for funeral condolences. Aunt Irene, Aunt Wendy and Aunt Joy are all widows, only Aunt Seulgi's husband is still living. Yeri has never met them before, and she's not sure what she's supposed to say.

"I'm sorry for your loss?" It comes out like an awkward question, when she shapes the words with her mouth, watching her reflection in the train window as the countryside speeds by, because her aunts live almost at the sea.

The house is tall, a faded red brick but still proud, white-curtained windows and thick green ivy that looks black in the dark. It's night, the sound of the ocean far away like a distant echo, as Yeri steps out of the car and walks slowly up to the window to peer inside. There's just an empty parlour. Can I ever belong here?

Just then there's a click and a soft swish. "Yeri?" The front door cracks open and a silhouette of a face peers out, backlit against the inside glow. "Come in."

Yeri leaves her trunk, and the brick of raclette that her mother sent as a gift to her sisters-in-law, in the hands of the capable driver and walks into the light.

Dinner is. . .different. They sit around the table, Aunt Irene, Aunt Wendy, Aunt Joy and Aunt Seulgi, and Yeri can't help feeling like she's at an interview for which she never sat any lessons. But she takes a deep breath, concealed in the cuff of her blouse, and takes comfort in the fact that her mother let her wear her very best Sunday stockings.

"What you do want to be when you grow up?" Aunt Wendy asks, passing the pasta. Yeri blinks.

"I'll get married of course," she says, automatically, and helps herself to a small helping before passing the dish. She's not a glutton. Looking up, she can see that Aunt Wendy is frowning and she feels like she answered the question wrong. But that's the right answer, right? All of a sudden she's not sure, and twirls too much spaghetti around her fork, so that a noodle trails out of her mouth when she pops the fork in her mouth. It's embarrassing.

"Getting married isn't a career," Aunt Joy says, and takes a serving of salad. Yeri watches her eyes glance across the table, but she can't tell what she's looking at.

"Do you have anything you like to do?" Aunt Seulgi asks instead. She smiles, a small smile, but Yeri feels more on solid ground with this question, though it's usually the one that makes her nervous at her mother's dinner parties.

"I like drawing," she says, "but people, not landscapes." Yeri hadn't meant to say that, but as the words slip out of her mouth she realizes they're true.

"People are a kind of landscape all unto themselves," Aunt Irene says, and looks at Aunt Wendy, who inclines her head to her salad.

Yeri expects the waitstaff to clear the table after they eat, and two maids do come out with a cart, but Aunt Seulgi sends them away with a wave of her hand, glancing towards Aunt Irene, who nods. The maids leave quietly, slipping into the shadows.

"Do you like to read?" she asks Yeri, leading her along as the Aunts leave Seulgi alone with the dishes.Yeri doesn't really, but she feels like saying yes will make Aunt Irene happy so she nods anyway.

Yeri discovers that she likes reading. Curled up on the windowseat, reading in the soft daylight diffused through the green ivy, or nestled on the carpet in front of the study fire at night, Charles Dickens in hand, or Oscar Wilde. Why doesn't mother have these kinds of books? The words roll around like chocolate on her tongue, or the wine that Aunt Seulgi lets her drink with dinner.

"You're 16," she said, when Yeri looked up at her, hesitating to take the proffered wine glass. "That's old enough to know what you want."

Yeri likes reading, or maybe she just likes watching Aunt Irene. All of the Aunts really. They don't talk much, but their glances seem to weigh more than words. Aunt Irene glances at Aunt Wendy, and they disappear for a while into another room, not coming out before Yeri goes to bed. Aunt Seulgi watches the door, while she sits at the table in the the den, writing tiny coiled up words on lined paper in notebooks that she keeps locked in the the desk drawer. Yeri knows, because she tried opening it when no one was in the room.

"What does Aunt Seulgi write?" she asks Aunt Irene one time, more for an excuse to talk to her than anything else. Yeri can't understand Aunt Irene, the whole house seems to revolve around her and yet she never tells anyone what to do, and barely the servants either.

"She writes her sadness out," Aunt Irene says, and Yeri doesn't understand.

Sometimes the aunts play tennis in the court outside, when it's not too hot, or sometimes despite the heat.

"Do you miss your husband?" Yeri dares to ask Aunt Joy one time, as she stands in the shady green of the oak trees, white tennis skirt, long legs, tossing a fuzzy green ball from hand to hand. Her aunt just looks at her, and raises an eyebrow, a long perfect line that Yeri sometimes thinks would be nice to trace with a fingertip.

"Men," she sniffs, "who needs them?" Her serve, a sharp crack as the ball connects with the racket, doesn't sound angry but instead joyous, as Aunt Wendy makes a face in protest at the unexpected commencement of a new round.

There's a letter waiting on the dining room table when they come in for dinner, a telegram, white paper and black print. It's for Aunt Seulgi, and everyone is quiet while she reads it, and then excuses herself to the bathroom. Yeri is confused, but she doesn't seem to be able to ask.

Aunt Joy passes her the potato salad, and she puts too much on her plate, regretting it when the creamy taste turns grainy on her over-coated tongue. There are footsteps from the hallway, and Aunt Seulgi pushes open the door, resuming her seat at the table.

Her pink lipstick is now red, and she looks at Aunt Irene who looks over at Aunt Wendy, who looks at Yeri.

"We're sorry for your loss," she says, and Yeri almost laughs when she realizes that Aunt Seulgi's husband has just been reported killed in action. She bites her tongue instead. She doesn't know her uncle at all, and the way the aunts just keep eating makes so much sense and yet doesn't make any sense at all. She remembers what Aunt Joy said by the tennis court.

She's still thinking about it, tossing and turning in her sheets, sweat-sticky from the heat of summer despite the open window and the faint breeze blowing in. Finally she sits up. Maybe a book will help.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, the soft wood grain of the floor whispering under her feet, Yeri notices a light on in the library; there's the faint flickering from the fire through the doorway but also the soft glow of a lamp. Someone's awake? Half afraid that it might be Aunt Seulgi, Yeri slips between the bookshelves and peers through a gap where Great Expectations should be.

At first she doesn't understand, because all her aunts are widows now. But Aunt Irene's hair is gold in the firelight and Aunt Joy's long tresses are a fiery red in the glow of the lamp; Yeri feels like her chest is on fire, watching their lips meet, red and red and soft skin, fingertips dipping beneath the fabric of Aunt Irene's lace blouse, Aunt Joy's leg pressed between Aunt Irene's as they lean against the mahogany desk.

Yeri holds her breath.

Stepping back softly in the dark, her fingers feeling for the doorframe before she twirls in the shadows and slips quietly back up the stairs in the thick summer stillness, Yeri can't get the picture out of her head.

She wonders what it would be like to kiss Aunt Irene, and she realizes she wants to find out.

It's not to be.

There's another letter waiting, this time at the breakfast table when Yeri comes down, blinking her eyes, puffed with sleeplessness and dreams she doesn't know how to begin to ask for.

There's a letter, but everyone is already dead.

"Your mother wants you to come back home," Aunt Irene says, and Yeri can't help the faint blush that dusts her cheeks when she meets her gaze. Hopefully her aunt doesn't notice, she's looking at Aunt Joy anyway.

"Is everyone alright?" Yeri remembers to answer, a heartbeat too late to be quite polite.

"You have a baby brother," Aunt Seulgi says, and her smile is just a little bit wistful around the corners. Oh, Yeri thinks. Oh.

"Will I be able to come back?" she asks, instead of asking about the surprise brother she wasn't expecting. The question is suddenly, urgently, pressing.

"Of course," Aunt Joy replies, and grins. Yeri grins back.

It's getting dark when the car comes to pick her up to drive to the train, and the aunts have already said goodbye in the den. Yeri stands at the window and looks in at the parlour one last time. The glow follows her ankles as she turns and steps away.

In the train, she pulls out her sketchbook for the first time in a while, since leaving home probably. It's taken a while for the orchards to fade from her head, but when she sets her pencil to paper, the white dress bound in layered lace doesn't flow out. It's difficult, on a moving train, but she gets used to the rhythm and soon the lines are trailing out, a nice dress, rose-printed poplin and her arms are bare, one hand raised to hold an apple to her mouth. It's only when Yeri raises her pencil from the page that she realizes it's the first time she's drawn her face.

It's nice.

She can still taste the phantom apple as she flips the sketch book shut and tucks it carefully away in her bag.

day five: "second impressions" for thunggyu

unnimod — Fri, 26 Jun 2015 18:21:57 GMT

Title: Second Impressions
Recipient: thunggyu
Pairing and/or character: Kara; Nicole/Gyuri
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Nicole is eager to prove herself to one Park Gyuri, a popular blogger.
Author Notes: A special thanks to E for the wonderful beta. :)

“Mediocre at best?”

It was certainly not the worst thing said in the review but these words stuck in Nicole’s mind. How could someone Nicole admired say this about her bakery? She poured her heart, soul, and life savings into the business.

Nicole wouldn’t have taken it so hard if not for the fact that the ‘Bake-a-Blog’ was a popular website for bakery reviews. Run by Park Gyuri, she was known for her brutally honest reviews. The honesty was appreciated, but it broke Nicole’s heart that she didn’t like her baked goods. Next to eating, cooking was the thing she enjoyed most.

“I’ll just have to prove to Miss Park that my bakery is one of the best around!” Nicole told herself firmly. The problem with this idea was that Park Gyuri was no longer accepting requests for interviews. Nicole found this out by reading her blog which said that requests were temporarily blocked because of how booked up she was.

There was a way around this, though. Park Gyuri didn’t need to revisit the bakery to taste Nicole’s treats, not when Nicole could deliver them personally.

Finding Park Gyuri’s address proved to be as simple as a google search. The most interesting thing about this new information was that she lived right in the house next door. It had to be fate.

Nicole was always so busy at the bakery decorating birthday cakes and rolling dough for fresh buns that she hadn't noticed her mysterious neighbor. It was perfect! With Miss Park being so close it would be a piece of (delicious) cake to convince her that the original review of ‘Nicori’s Bakery’ had been a mistake.

First thing was first; she had to whip her up a treat. The desserts Park Gyuri had listed as ‘Mediocre at best’ admittedly hadn’t been her strongest. Nicole needed to stick to what she knew best in order to impress Miss Park.

This was why the first thing she would be making her was one of her famous sweet red bean donuts. Nicole got up early and spent the morning preparing a dozen. Once she was satisfied with the result, she giftwrapped them, adding a bow for good measure.

Nicole cautiously walked up to the door, almost knocking but she stopped herself at the last minute. It was best to remain anonymous for now. That way Miss Park would view the treats through a neutral lens.

Good morning Miss Park~

This is your next-door neighbor. I made you a little good morning treat to have before you have to get your day started. Please enjoy! <3

She placed the notecard in front of the treats before scurrying off. The bakery had to be opened soon and Nicole was almost tempted to delay it in order to see Miss Park’s reaction. However, Nicole had to settle for trying to see down the tiny driveway once she got home that evening. The treats were gone and so was the note.

Just because Miss Park's doorstep was empty didn't actually mean they ended up in her stomach. For a brief moment however, Nicole feared Miss Park had thrown them away, but she had an idea. An admittedly desperate one, but still she moved forward and lifted the trashcan lid. Inside was the empty wrapper, no sign of her note or the treats.

Her plan was a success.

~*~

The next day Nicole made a sweet rice donut for Miss Park followed by sweet potato bread on the third day. After that, Nicole made a mini cheesecake and finally fruit pastry bites, each one decorated with a different fruit.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly that week—until Nicole realized Miss Gyuri was looking outside the window one morning. It was only natural that she had grown curious about who was leaving her treats.

“Morning!” Nicole squeaked out as the door opened. “I brought you some more sweet bean red donuts. You seemed to enjoy them last time.”

“You’ve been leaving the delicious treats on my step?” she asked, looking at Nicole with a surprised expression on her face. “I don’t think we’ve ever spoken in the few months that I have lived here, so why now?”

Nicole smiled nervously but appeared calm, cool, and collected on the outside. On the inside she was screaming, Oh my gosh, she called my treats delicious!

“I don’t know if you remember but a few weeks ago you reviewed a bakery called ‘Nikori’s Bakery’. My name is Nicole Jung, the owner of that bakery.”

Miss Park appeared surprised again but nodded to show she understood. “I remember. You were the one who has those fancy decorated cupcakes.”

“You said they were mediocre.”

“And they were,” she insisted. “It seemed like you were trying too hard to keep up with current trends, but everything you’ve made me for the past few days has been wonderful.”

Nicole clasped her hands underneath her chin and tried to suppress a squeal. “That means so much to me, Miss Park!”

“Of course, you’ll have to wait until a space opens up in my schedule, but I will give you another review.”

It was all Nicole could’ve asked for. “I hope I didn’t bother you with my drop-offs. I just wanted to give you a chance to taste my other treats.”

Park Gyuri took another bite of a fruit pastry (the one topped with a strawberry). For a second her eyes closed in what Nicole hoped was bliss before she licked the crumbs off her lips. “Would you care to show me how to make these sometime soon? They really are delicious.”

“Sunday?” Nicole asked hopefully.

“That works for me,” Gyuri answered, a shy smile appearing on her face.

“It’s a date then.”

Miss Park stared, her cheeks turning a bright pink. The color resembled the frosting on one of her cupcakes. “A date?”

Nicole nervously bit down on her bottom lip. “If that’s alright with you.”

She nodded, cheeks still pink.

It was a date! Nicole couldn’t wait—though she was concerned about one thing. What was she going to bake?

day four: "love stories from a simcard" for ninemused

unnimod — Thu, 25 Jun 2015 19:30:25 GMT

Title: Love Stories From A Simcard
Recipient: ninemused
Fandom/Pairing: AOA; Choa/Seolhyun
Rating: PG-13
Summary Phone numbers are so easy to get wrong.
Author's notes: I really hope you like this! Sorry about any mischaracterisation or anything ;;

11 March 2015

4:16pm

To: 010 4621 3684
From: Choa
i stg you thirsty bitch if you're ditching practice for jinhwan's dick i'm confiscating banana from you bc your guitar doesn't deserve that kind of treatment WE SAID WE WERE GOING TO PRACTICE YOU FLAKY ASSHOLE CHICKS BEFORE DICKS

To: Choa
From: 010 4621 3684
considering i don't know a jinhwan or a banana i'm going to go ahead and guess this was a wrong number

To: 010 4621 3684
From: Choa
..... is this not jimin

To: Choa
From: 010 4621 3684
i don't think i even know a jimin

To: Choa
From: 010 4621 3684
and i don't play guitar

To: Choa
From: 010 4621 3684
i play piano though

To: 010 4621 3684
From: Choa
OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY

To: 010 4621 3684
From: Choa
THAT WAS MEANT TO GO TO SOMEONE ELSE ENTIRELY

To: Choa
From: 010 4621 3684
haha it's okay it happens

To: Choa
From: 010 4621 3684
and chicks before dicks is a very important reminder of what's important in life

4:20pm

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
YOU GAVE ME THE WRONG NUMBER

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
JIMIN'S NUMBER IS NOT 010 4621 3684

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
it's not my fault you lost all your numbers bc your dinosaur of a phone finally gave up the good fight unni

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
how's the 21st century treating you

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO ME THAT'S NOT JIMIN'S NUMBER

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
you sure? it's always worked for me

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
YES

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
I CALLED SOME POOR UNSUSPECTING INNOCENT GIRL A THIRSTY BITCH

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
isn't that what you used to call your ex

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
oh my god

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
i kid

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
i mean you should have she did cheat on you

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
also you ditz you copied the number down wrong i said 010 4601 3684

To: Youkyung
From: Choa
please don't remind me i've been single for the past three years it's just depressing

4:25

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i wish my friends would remember it haha

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
also again i am so sorry i'm so embarrassed i copied her number down wrong it's 010 4601 3684

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
wow i can see how that mix up happened

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
so are you guys in a band?

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
we try to be

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i mean yes, we are i'm just bitter right now jimin was meant to meet me like an hour and a half ago

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
ah, hence the 'flaky asshole'

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
oh god

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i swear i'm normally super polite and well mannered

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i'm a very nice person

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
until your friends put dicks before chicks? :P

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
oh she doesn't, not really, jinhwan's lovely

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i completely approve of the relationship even if he's half her age

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
he's not actually half her age, just in high school

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
okay he's out of high school he's just younger

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i'm sorry i'm rambling you probably don't care ;;

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
nonono this is a very entertaining interlude from schoolwork tell me more

4:29pm

...dialling 010 4601 3684...
'Hey unni, I'm on my way. Do you want me to get something?'

'Jimin?'

'...Did you expect it to be someone else?'

'I got your number wrong earlier and laid into a poor innocent, I was just checking, okay.'

'Why would you be laying into me?'

'Why would I- where are you? Are you with Jinhwan?'

'No? I'm on the bus coming to you like we planned.'

'We made plans for an hour ago!'

'... Unni, we made plans for five, it's half past four.'

'We made plans for three!'

'I was still in class at three!'

'... what?'

'We changed the time, remember?'

'No? Are you lying to me?'

'Have I ever done that?'

'Do you want me to answer that.'

'The answer better be no or you're the one lying.'

'... Fine. Sorry. Pick up snacks?'

'Of course.'

'Thanks. Bye.'

'See you now.'

...call ended...

4:33pm

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
turns out i got the times wrong and the plans are for 5 not 3 so she's not a flaky asshole

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
bad day?

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
apparently a very distracted one OTL

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
SAME

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
i mean in that i have an essay to write and i keep getting distracted

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i'm sorry for distracting you from your schoolwork!!!

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
don't worry about it

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
i was actually watching food videos online tbh

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
so technically you didn't distract me i was already distracted

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
so what's the essay on?

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
not food videos

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
or food

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
or music unfortunately bc otherwise i would use you as a source haha

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
aww pity i'd love to help ^^

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
where are you from?

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
tryna see if it'll help your essay? :P

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i'm seoul based

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
same! so does your band play in hongdae?

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
sometimes, yeah, when we can get everyone together

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
do you frequent hongdae?

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
sometimes my friends drag me out there yeah lmao

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
what's your band name? maybe i've seen you guys

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
ace? we're still building up our rep ;;

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
my friends a cheerleader tell me when you're next there and she'll come drum up support

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
haha that would probably be helpful tbh

To: Not-Jimin
From: Choa
i'm choa, by the way (lead singer and rhythm guitar of ace ^^v)

To: Choa
From: Not-Jimin
pretty name! i'm seolhyun

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i'm glad i accidentally messaged someone as nice as you ^^;

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm glad you messaged me tbh

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
gave me a little variety in my day :)

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
jimin's just buzzed very rudely at my door i have to go byeeeee

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
tell her i say hi!

19 March 2015

10:31am

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
what do you mean you're not in seoul

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
yuna

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
did you only get this now unni

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
i wasn't by my phone!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
you mean you lost it

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
only briefly

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
but why isn't yuna in seoul

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
or speaking for herself

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
like she said, family emergency

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
it sounded kind of serious

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
omg is everyone okay?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
i don't know she didn't have time to explain fully

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
she sounded really upset

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh no that's horrible

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
and now we can't practice because it sounds really weird without the keyboard part

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
even though we have that gig on sunday

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
can't be helped

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
we don't even know if she'll be back by then

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
how can you guys even think about that we need to be there for her!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
guys

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
yuna omg are you okay???

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
unni i'm fine it wasn't a family emergency my sister came back from overseas for a visit unexpectedly

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
they're pulling your leg

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
aww spoilsport

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
!!!!!!!!!!! >:|

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
i'll be back on saturday

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
we still can't practice it really does sound weird without the keyboard

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
we kinda do need to practice

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
i'm practicing my parts on the piano here!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
i need the keyboard parts to follow on after the solo though!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
okay one of us has to know somebody who plays piano and can help out for the afternoon like seriously

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
i mean i've gone blank but

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
i might know someone hold on

11:03am

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
hi seolhyun i don't know if you remember me, choa, i accidentally messaged you last week?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
hey!! yeah ofc i remember you

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
you said you play piano, right?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
yeah, i used to take lessons when i was younger

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
are you free this afternoon by any chance?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
yeah i am but jsyk i'm no mozart

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
or like public perforamnce ready at all tbh

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
nonono that's fine our keyboardist just had to go home for a couple days and we need the keyboard part to place other parts!

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
it'd just be for today's practice

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i mean maybe tomorrow as well if you're free or we need to we have a gig on sunday

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
only if you can of course

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
can you play keyboard?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
as long as it doesn't require fancy tricks and handles like a piano i should be okay??

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i don't want to mess up your songs, though

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
it really doesn't need to be perfect and i'm sure you'll be fine

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
you'd really be helping us out so much

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm in if you don't expect too much!

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
are you sure? really?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i've always wanted to be in a band

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
never had the dedication though lol

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
YOU'RE A GODSEND

11:23am

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
FOUND A STAND IN WE'RE GOOD TO GO

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
who?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
seolhyun

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
you don't know her

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
isn't that the girl you messaged instead of me last week?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
the wrong number?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
lmao the one you called a thirsty bitch?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
shhhhhh

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
you called her a thirsty bitch and she still agreed to help?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
I DIDN'T CALL HER A THIRSTY BITCH

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
I MEAN I DID BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT IT WAS MEANT TO GO TO JIMIN AND SHE UNDERSTOOD THAT

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
ah the luck of the irish

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
????? no one's irish? what are you going on about

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
nvm

11:28am

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
:) so where/when is the practice?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
oh! right

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
uh do you know that coffee shop in sinchon-dong, jenny bean?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
ooh yes they have such nice cakes

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
do you maybe wanna meet there at 2:30?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
the practice is at about 3:30 ish but it's near there

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
and i can buy you something as a thank you?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
before the practice? that's confident lmao

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i mean i can do that; yeah

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
great! so i'll see you then?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
:)

2:13pm

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
hey what kind of cake do you like?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
are you already there??

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
yeah i was in the neighbourhood

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm ordering; what cake do you like?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i said i'd pay!

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm just ordering!

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm going with chocolate for you if you don't tell me what you like

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i like their chocolate strawberry cream swiss roll

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
oh that is good

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm sitting in the back corner by the blackboard drawing btw

2:26

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh god

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh my god

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh my god is that her

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh god she's the only one by the blackboard

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
what are you talking about

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
is this this seolhyun chick?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
you meeting her beforehand?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh god she's wearing a leather jacket over knitwear

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
blasphemy

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
are you having a breakdown bc of that

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
help

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
oh my god help

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
is she really weird what's happening

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
unni speak to us

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
OH MY GOD SHE'S SO HOT

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
LIKE SO PRETTY

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
IS SHE A MODEL

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
HELP SHE SAW ME

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
SHE STOOD UP WHAT SHE'S SO TALL

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
HER LEGS

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
unni you're so gay

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
I KNOW HOW DO I HIDE IT I CAN'T SCARE HER OFF WE NEED HER

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
HELP SHE'S WAVING

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
not sure it's gay talking as much as the sexual frustration

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
youkyung you can't say that

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
SHE'S BEEN SINGLE SINCE MY SISTER CHEATED ON HER

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
I CAN SAY THAT

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
i forgot she dated your sister

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
really

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
really really

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
after youkyung's taken it upon herself to try be her wingwoman as a way of making it up

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
for the last three years

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
you forgot

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
i don't take responsibility for my sister's actions

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
as a friend it's the least i can do

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
but she seems to have found someone all on her own!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
she's also stopped replying

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
unni did youkyung offend you

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
i was not offensive just truthful excuse you

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
choa unni did you faint

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
unni

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
unni

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
unni

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
unni

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
(this isn't going to get her to reply faster)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
unni

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
unni

3:39pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
SHIT LOST TRACK OF TIME DON'T HATE ME WE'RE ON OUR WAY NOW

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
ooooooooooohhh

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
lost track of time ;)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
we're all here

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
no rush :)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
we'll all wingwoman you

3:52pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
could you please let us in already -.-

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
it's cold

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
perfect excuse to share bodyheat ;)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
COME OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR

8:49

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
thanks again for helping~

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
no problem it was fun!

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
sorry for messing up so many times

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
what are you talking about you did great

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
haha thanks

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
it was pretty cool to actually meet you :)

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
and the infamous jimin

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i can't believe you brought that up

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i didn't! youkyung unni did!

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
of course she did >.<

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
it was nice meeting you too

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i'm glad i got that number wrong haha came in handy

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'm glad you got it wrong too ^^ i really did have fun

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
same time tomorrow?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
yeah

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
thanks for agreeing to help out again ^^

22 March 2015

9:21am

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
what do you mean you haven't told her

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
she HAS to come to dinner afterwards!!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
i haven't even met her yet!!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
I WANT TO MEET HER

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
UNNI YOU HAVE TO INVITE HER TO THE AFTERPARTY

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
if you don't i will

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
you got her number?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
no i forgot

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
but i know it's similar to mine

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
CHOA UNNI TOLD ME WHAT IT WAS IT'S SOMEWHERE IN MY MESSAGES

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
I'M INVITING HER NOW

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
CHILL

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
she just doesn't want us talking to her

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
can't imagine why

9:36am

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
hey so our gig's today

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
and i don't know if you're doing anything tonight or anything

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
and it's completely fine if you can't

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
but the rest of the band really want you to at least come to the afterparty

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i mean we're just going out for dinner and making it up as we go along

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
only the rest of the band? :P

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
what about you?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
do you want me to come?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
yes of course!! it would be great if you can

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'd love to

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i actually meant to ask when and where the gig was

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i'd like to hear what the songs sound like with a competent keyboardist :)

14 April 2015

1:54pm

To: Choa
From: Jimin
hey u ok?

To: Choa
From: Jimin
normally see you at lunch on tuesdays

To: Choa
From: Jimin
surprised i didn't see you today

To: Jimin
From: Choa
oh my god i'm so sorry

To: Jimin
From: Choa
i completely forget we normally connect

To: Choa
From: Jimin
don't worry it's not like it's a set plan

To: Choa
From: Jimin
junhee and jonghyun oppa ended up tagging along anyway so it's not like i was alone

To: Choa
From: Jimin
i was just checking in

To: Jimin
From: Choa
i met seolhyun for lunch we were in the same area ;;

To: Choa
From: Jimin
OOOOOOHHHHH

To: Jimin
From: Choa
shut up

To: Choa
From: Jimin
like a date???

To: Jimin
From: Choa
NO

To: Jimin
From: Choa
no

To: Jimin
From: Choa
i don't even know if she's into girls

To: Jimin
From: Choa
we've just been hanging out

To: Choa
From: Jimin
uh huh

2:21pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
breaking news choa went for lunch with seolhyun ❤❤❤❤❤

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
SHE DITCHED ME FOR SEOLHYUN ON SATURDAY I WAS SO OFFENDED

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
but also very happy for her

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
GUYS STOP

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
and me not being at home when you pitch up unexpectedly at my front door is not me ditching you

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
so things are going well

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
NOTHING IS HAPPENING WE'RE JUST FRIENDS

7 May 2015

4:37pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
fuck warm weather

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
such vehemence

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
what did it ever do to you

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
fuck short shorts

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
fuck long legs

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
oh

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
is this about seolhyun

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
you should really ask her out

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
fuck cute girls

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
well yes that's your aim with asking her out

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
cute girls with long legs and pretty smiles and nice laughs who are super fun and cute

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
she's just ranting rn isn't she

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
yep

13 May 2015

11:48am

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
hey you wanna meet up tonight?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
we can get dinner or something

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
dinner sounds good, i'm in for that!

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
where were you thinking?

2:04pm

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
sorry sorry got caught up with something

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
what do you want to eat?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
you covered in chocolate sauce

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
or just you and your special sauce if you know what i mean ;)

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
you know i love to eat out

2:07pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
[screenshot]

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
wow

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
OH MY GOD

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
i think you have an in

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
yeah i think she likes girls

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
I CAN'T BREATHE

2:09pm

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
OH MY GOD

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
I AM SO SORRY

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
MY FRIEND PICKED UP MY PHONE

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
THAT WASN'T ME UNNI OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
I'M SORRY HYEJEONG UNNI HAS NO SENSE OF DECORUM

2:11pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
nevermind her friend stole her phone

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
oh really

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
her "friend" stole her phone

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
it makes the most sense actually

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
it was a bit forward

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
tell her you like eating out too

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
IT WAS HER FRIEND

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
and you guys intend to eat out tonight am i right

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
perfect in to feel it out

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
*feel her up

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
you guys are terrible

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
they're right tho

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
perfect opening

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
to give you access to another perfect opening ;)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
no

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
just

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
no

2:13pm

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
haha i was wondering

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
so uh what do you actually wanna eat?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
aside from out

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
I'M SO EMBARRASSED

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
we can order in and watch a movie if you want?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
that sounds nice too

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i can bring the movie?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
any preferences?

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
no you choose :)

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
my place, about 6?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
see you then!

5:58pm

... incoming call from Seolhyun...

'Hello?'

'Hi, unni! Sorry, I'm running a little late.'

'That's okay, it's not like we have reservations.'

'Right. I'm at the shop getting snacks and stuff, should I get some drinks?'

'Oh yeah, that could be a good idea. I can pay you back-'

'Don't worry about it, unni, I've got this. You can pay for supper.'

'Sounds like a plan.'

'Okay, I'll be there in about twenty minutes, love you, bye!'

'......'

'I mean. Bye. Sorry. Habit. From... talking to my mom. Bye, unni.'

'Yeah, bye. See you in a bit.'

'Yeah.'

'Okay. Bye.'

...call ended...

10:49pm

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
HOLKY SHIT

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
SHE KISSDE ME

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
WHOOP WHOOP

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
so did you guys end up eating out? ;P

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
NO WE WTCHED A MOVIE AND DRANK A BIT AND THEN SH E KISSED ME

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
and?????

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
ND THEN I DNDT KNOW WAHT TO DO SO I JSUT SAT TEHER AND SHE RAN OUT

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
WHAT

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
YOU JUST LET HER GO???

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
WHY ARE YOU MESSAGING IS AND NOT HER

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
UNNI COME ON THAT WAS DEFINITELY NOT HER FRIEND

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
STOP YELLING AT ME

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
CALL HER

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
NO I'M TIPSY

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
i give up

14 May 2015

9:46am

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
hey unni i'm really sorry about last night

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i don't know what i was thinking

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i shouldn't have done that

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
i really hope we can still be friends

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
i like you

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
wait

9:49am

...dialling Seolhyun...

'Hello?'

'Oh my god, you picked up. Hi.'

'I wouldn't- I wasn't going to not pick up.'

'Right. Um.'

'...'

'...'

'So...'

'Okay, so I'm gay.'

'...'

'So there's that.'

'...'

'Seolhyun?'

'You're gay?'

'Uh. Yeah.'

'Oh.'

'...'

'...'

'Why did you kiss me last night?'

'Because I wanted to.'

'Do you- do you like me?'

'... yes.'

'Ohmygod I am so glad.'

'Did you mean what you said in your message?'

'That I like you? So much.'

'...'

'Seolhyun?'

'Hello?'

'Hi?'

'Hi! Choa, right?'

'...yes? where's Seolhyun?'

'Shrieking in the kitchen, I'm sure you can hear her. I'm Hyejeong, by the way.'

'Oh! You're the one who sent those messages yesterday!'

'She wasn't doing anyth-'

'... hello?'

'Hyejeong can't talk to you, not after yesterday.'

'I'm sure she just wanted to help.'

'She's not allowed helping. Or maybe she is. I don't know.'

'Do you want to go out on a date?'

'... Yes. Definitely yes. What do you want to do?'

'... I heard you liked eating out.'

... call ended...

10:07am

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
I DROPPED MY PHONE SORRY

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
:P

To: Seolhyun
From: Choa
jenny bean, 1 o'clock?

To: Choa
From: Seolhyun
yes

10:15am

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
I HAVE A DATE

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
REALLY

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
FINALLY

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
CONGRATS

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
DID YOU TAKE OUR ADVICE

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
no

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
wait what are you saying no to

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
you do really have a date right

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
tbh i think it was the advice

10:30am

To: Choa
From: Jimin
unni answer us

10:37am

To: Choa
From: Youkyung
unni you can't leave us hanging like that

11:47am

To: Choa
From: Yuna
DID YOU DIE

18 May 2015

10:02

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
are we still practicing this evening?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
you mean hanging out

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
same difference

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
i'm still in

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
same

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
i'll be there

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
are we getting chicken?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
ooh yes

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
definitely

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Mina
at choa unni's place?

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
i think so

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
if she doesn't have a ~date~

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
she doesn't :)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
she had one last night

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
she says your plans are still on for tonight

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
at her place

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
unni why are you speaking in third person

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Choa
unni's in the shower it's seolhyun :)

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
oh

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Jimin
OH

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Youkyung
OH MY

To: Ace [group chat]
From: Yuna
so i'm guessing you guys ate out

day three: "bubblegum heart" for everyone

unnimod — Wed, 24 Jun 2015 18:51:45 GMT

Title: bubblegum heart
Recipient: Everyone
Fandom/Pairing: Mijoo/Babysoul
Rating: PG
Summary: Here it was, a month or two until they’d stand on stage for the first time, until they’d be real idols, with all the responsibility it would entail. It’s Mijoo’s twenty-first birthday and Soojung is still asleep in her bedroom down the hall.
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy!

Maybe it’s the constant hum of traffic or the fact that none of them have gotten a good night's sleep in weeks, but Mijoo can't seem to close her eyes. There's an itch just under her skin, something that keeps her from relaxing completely. She’s restless.

She glances back at the alarm clock in the corner of the room, where 12:10am flashes back at her. For the past few days, she has daydreamt about this night. Soojung creeping quietly into her room, waking her up with a soft kiss to her cheek, and then sneaking out of the dorm to spend the rest of the early morning hours together. They had made a promise, a few months after Mijoo had started training at the company, when it was clear that she wasn’t going to be cut from the program. ”I’ll sneak you out and we’ll have our last bit of freedom,” Soojung had promised, about whichever birthday fell before the day they’d debut.

Here it was, a month or two until they’d stand on stage for the first time, until they’d be real idols, with all the responsibility it would entail. It’s Mijoo’s twenty-first birthday and Soojung is still asleep in her bedroom down the hall.

Mijoo tosses and turns a bit more, tries to close her eyes and drift off to the sound of Jiae’s light snoring from across the room. But twenty minutes pass, and then thirty, and Mijoo still can’t sleep. Maybe better to take matters into her own hands. What’s that saying? Ah yes, if you want something done right then you have to do it yourself.

“Unnie,” Mijoo shakes at Soojung’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

It doesn’t work. Soojung just grunts a little, her brow furrowing, before her face relaxes and her breathing evens out again. So Mijoo drops down, her knees grazing the edge of the futon, and leans in close. Soojung smells like sugar and flowers, the tiniest hint of sweat. A wisp of hair tickles Mijoo's nose as she leans in close to Soojung's ear.

“Soojung unnie?”

Crack.

Pain shoots across Mijoo's nose.

“Ugh, you have a big head.”

“Shut up.”

“It hurt.”

“You hurt me!”

Soojung’s scowl is so comically large as she rubs at her forehead that Mijoo can’t help but giggle, all pain forgotten.

"Mijoo-yah, it's two in the morning. Why are you waking me up at two in the morning?"

"Unnie, do you remember what you promised me?" Mijoo tilts her head to the side, smiles in that way she knows Soojung can't refuse (even if Soojung likes to pretend she can).

“It seems to have slipped my mind," Soojung is sitting up now, arms crossed against her chest. "Because it's two-"

"In the morning, yeah yeah," Mijoo cuts Soojung off with a roll of her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic."

Soojung huffs and there's a small part of Mijoo that screams in disappointment. She hadn't expected much from this birthday. Not really. They're a month away from debut and everyday is filled to the brim with dance practice, evaluations, track recordings. They're lucky if they manage to get a few hours of sleep. How could she expect any of them to remember her birthday?

But she did expect Soojung to be different. She doesn't know why exactly. But she feels a pang in her chest, her heart aching for something she doesn't know if Soojung is willing to give.

So instead she glares at Soojung silently, trying to communicate her disappointment through some telekinetic force.

Realization dawns on Soojung's face. "Oh, your birthday!"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner," Mijoo comments dryly.

Soojung's face softens, her eyes dropping down. A wave of guilt crashes over Mijoo. Soojung has enough to worry about, the world on her shoulders in a way Mijoo can't really understand, and it's unfair of her to expect so much.

“I’m sorry,” Soojung reaches out to clasp her hand around Mijoo’s wrist. Her thumb traces small circles. She pats Mijoo's wrist before pulling her blanket away and standing up. "Well let's get going, birthday girl."

Mijoo lips unfurl into a wide smile. "So you do remember?"

“Well I remember now.” Soojung laughs, moving towards the dresser pushed up against the wall. “Go put on something decent and meet me in five minutes, okay?”

Mijoo nods in agreement, and stumbles back to her room to try to make herself presentable. Her heart feels light.

The pair do head out five minutes later, careful to slip out of the dorm as quietly as possible. Once outside they run along the streets, hands clasped, gulping in the cool air. They bicker in the grocery store. (“Makgeolli for me, and soju for you. Sweet and...not-so-sweet, just like us!”) Then just as quickly their back at their dorm, blanket and alcohol in hand, climbing the stairs to the roof.

Mijoo’s legs hang over the roof ledge, scraping against the concrete. Looking down at the ground makes her feel off balanced and queasy, so she settles for looking at at the city lights.

Soojung pours two more shots from the bottle of soju. "Come down from there and drink with your old unnie."

"You're only two years older than me," Mijoo says before hopping down from the ledge and walking towards where Soojung sits crosslegged on the blanket.

Soojung raises an eyebrow. “Might as well be a lifetime.”

“Unnie, are you calling me immature?” Mijoo flops down on her stomach and strikes a cutesy pose, face in hands and legs crossed at the ankle.

“Yah, stop trying to act cute. It’s not working.” Mijoo pouts before Soojung continues, “Sit up and drink this.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Mijoo shudders a bit as the alcohol hits the back of her throat. They've only been drinking for a short while, barely an hour, but there's already a pleasant buzz washing over her body. She feels loose. Loose enough to nestle her head into Soojung’s lap and place her hand on her head.

“Pet me,” she commands. She can feel her eyes go slightly cross eyed as she looks up at Soojung’s face. “It’s my birthday.”

Soojung’s eyebrow raises, bemused, but then her fingers are running paths down Mijoo’s scalp. She feels the tension drain out of her limbs, relishes the feel of Soojung’s thigh beneath her head.

"What if people don't like us?"

Soojung shakes her head. "Mijoo-yah, of course they'll like us."

"Well what if people think I'm ugly!"

"That's ridiculous,” Soojung rolls her eyes a bit. “You’re beautiful.”

Mijoo lifts her head from Soojung’s lap, and turns around. “How can you be so sure about everything?”

“I’m not,” Soojung answers. “But I have faith in us. We’re good. We can make it.” Her hand reaches up to caress Mijoo’s cheek. “We have to.”

The way Soojung smiles at Mijoo, so sure, makes something warm bloom in Mijoo’s chest. Suddenly it’s not enough to sit here on their blanket, on the roof of the dorm. Mijoo wants so much more.

“Dance with me?” she asks, standing up and holding out a hand to Soojung.

Soojung lets Mijoo pull her up to her feet. “But there’s no music.”

“Are we singers, or aren’t we?”

Shaking her head, Soojung steps into Mijoo’s embrace, one hand sliding into the other, fingers intertwined. Then Soojung’s singing softly, and they’re swaying together, Mijoo’s face buried in Soojung’s hair.

Building lights twinkle on the Seoul skyline, and two twin figures lean against the roof’s ledge.

“Sometimes it all feels like a dream.”

Soojung reaches out to pinch hard at Mijoo's side, fingers brushing against bare skin. Mijoo shivers. Then she's laughing, bright and loud and clear, into the night sky.

“Did that hurt?” Soojung asks. Her hand is warm on Mijoo's skin.

"A little bit."

"So you aren't dreaming." Soojung sounds matter-of-fact, turning back to stare out at the sprawl of the city.

Mijoo turns to study Soojung's profile, the slope of her nose and curve of her jawline. A hint of a smile lingers on Soojung's lips. Mijoo's heart beats hard in her chest.

“What would you do right now, unnie? If this was a dream?”

"Hmmmm," Soojung contemplates. She looks up at the sky. There's a smattering of stars that are still visible, away from the lights of the city. They reflect in Soojung's eyes like the shine of miniature diamonds. Mijoo is captivated. "I think I would jump off the roof and fly over the city. Touch the clouds with my fingers and look at everybody down below. It must be nice up there. Free and open."

Soojung turns and catches Mijoo's eyes before laughing, her mouth hidden behind her hand. A breeze ruffles her bangs into her eyes, and before Mijoo can think, her hand is reaching out, fingers brushing the strands away.

"What about you, Mijoo-yah?"

She wants to step in, close her eyes and lean over, press her lips to Soojung’s. She wants to feel the sharp intake of breathe, the way her knees would go weak. She wants to press her hand into the curve of Soojung’s hip, to feel Soojung tremble underneath her. These are all the things she dreams about.

“I would…” Mijoo trails off. Her hand rests on Soojung’s shoulder. She can feel the way it trembles against the soft fabric of Soojung’s sweater. Then it’s there again, the restless itch that lives right under her skin. She takes a deep breathe. It’s now or never. “I would kiss you.”

Before she can take it back, before she can convince herself that this is a horrible idea - this is not a dream, this is reality and what if it all goes terribly wrong - she’s leaning in, eyes closed. Her hand falls from Soojung’s shoulder to her hip, she tilts her head, and she can feel Soojung’s nose push at the edge of her cheek.

When their lips meet, fireworks bloom behind Mijoo’s eyes. Ribbons of green and gold and blue and red. Soojung’s lips are soft and pliant, her skin hot and flushed beneath her hands. Then Mijoo feels fingers glide into her hair, pulling her closer. Soojung’s tongue slips into her mouth and Soojung’s breathe is hot on her skin and Soojung’s hands clutch at the back of her neck, and then Mijoo can’t think at all.

They pull apart a few moments later. Mijoo lightheaded, her knees buckling underneath her, and Soojung’s mouth is red and swollen, her tongue darting out to lick at her bottom lip.

Anxiety slams into Mijoo like a freight train, hard and loud, her pulse quickening, her heart climbing up her throat. This just happened. It’s not a dream. But...but Soojung had kissed her back, hadn’t she?

Then Soojung is pulling her forward again. Lips on lips,hands in hair, fingers gripping hips. It’s perfect.

Later, when they practice in the dance studio with sweat dripping down their faces, and the lights go off and Soojung walks out holding a ridiculous cake topped with brightly burning candles, she’s a little surprised. When Sujeong proclaims loudly that the cake “Looks just like unnie!”, a lump of emotion catches in Mijoo’s throat. She takes the silly pink sunglasses and shoves them on her face, laughs loud, and hopes that no one can see the tears that have managed to leak out.

With the other girls surrounded in a circle, laughing and clapping and singing, and Soojung smiling in the glow of the candles, Mijoo thinks it might be her best birthday yet.

day two: "tell me what happened to the american dream" for 921227

unnimod — Tue, 23 Jun 2015 14:21:59 GMT

Title: Tell Me What Happened to the American Dream
Recipient: 921227
Fandom/Pairing: KARA // Gyuri-centric (Gyuri/Seungyeon)
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mention of physical assault
Summary: Moving to Los Angeles with her best friend is Gyuri’s dream coming to life. Dreams, she will learn later, are sometimes better left untouched.
Author's notes: I tried to tackle two of of your prompts (#3 and #5) in one fic and I hope it doesn’t disappoint you even though I could have done a better job with better time management! Also, thank you for the lovely prompts!
Finally, thank you to JA, A and JE for reading this over and your help and a special thank you to R and Y for letting me whine about this fic. All my love to E, T, P and everyone on tlist really, for being so supportive. Title taken from MKTO “American Dream.”

It's time to leave, she thinks.

It's time, but it doesn't make it easier.

It's time, and as she steps into the plane, she doesn’t look back at what she’s leaving behind her. Not even once.

It’s time.

-

People are always saying that everything is different in Los Angeles. It’s almost an universal truth that everything in the City of Angels is shiner, nicer, and overall better.

Park Gyuri hopes, when she steps outside Los Angeles International Airport with only her dreams and the memorabilia of her past life in Seoul stocked in two suitcases, that they aren’t lying and something better is waiting for her.

She has left everything that she has ever known behind, left the comfort of familiar places and faces to chase after what so many have wanted but only a few have achieved – a successful career as an actress.

"There's an available taxi on your right," a soft voice points out and Gyuri takes a look at the short girl next to her. Her best friend is focused on buttoning her navy blue letterman jacket of her alma mater university up, a frown deeply set between her eyebrows.

Gyuri figures she’s probably tired after a close to twelve hours flight and emotionally draining goodbyes to their families and friends. Han Seungyeon has never dealt well with planes and displays of emotions.

She’s tired, too. The excitement of starting anew and touching with the tips of her fingers the American dream she has dreamed of for so long is enough to keep her energized, though.

There is still so much to do, such as settling themselves into their new apartment and getting there into the first place or eating their first decent meal of the day, but she’s ready. She’s ready to tackle everything the world will throw at her if it means taking another step closer to her dream.

“Let’s go, Seungyeon-ah!” she suddenly chirps, dragging the other girl by the hand and her suitcases in the other. “We’re in LA, isn’t that completely awesome?”

“It is,” Seungyeon replies, a smile finally gracing her babyish facial features as she follows her friend towards the taxi direction. The unique suitcase she has brought with her is definitely easier to manage than Gyuri’s. “It’s a new life for the both of us.”

A sound of glee escapes Gyuri’s lips.

She grins back at her best friend who has come with her to attend the most prestigious school of medicine of California, the stars she wants to reach are already present in her eyes.

Yes, it’s a new life.

-

“Let’s take a picture!” Gyuri suddenly exclaims as she readjusts her Minnie Mouse ears headband over her head.

The sequined red bow matches well with her jet black hair and she winks at herself before turning away from the mirror of the Disney shop they’re shopping in, ignoring the look full of judgement that Seungyeon is throwing her. It’s how their friendship works, their opposite personalities contrasting but never clashing. “Come on, take your phone out and let’s take a selca!"

Seungyeon rolls her eyes but says nothing, instead taking her phone – a Samsung model that isn’t even sold anymore in Korea but still is ”one of the best-sellers in the USA”, she recalls the cashier saying – out of her backpack to open the camera application quickly. It’s no use asking Gyuri why they aren’t using hers instead. Seungyeon is already knows that her friend’s phone has been completely forgotten on their kitchen counter.

They had gotten them together a few days after their move, in a rather impromptu move as neither really had use for a phone in a country where they knew no one but each other, but Seungyeon figured it would come in handy sooner or later. It was always better to be prepared and she had been right.

Taking pictures in Disneyland hadn’t exactly been what she had in mind upon purchasing the cell phones, though, and she shakes her head in fondness at her friend.

Gyuri wraps an arm around the shorter girl's waist, dragging their bodies and heads closer, their cheeks being pressed against each others delicately. “Wait,” she gasps, seconds before Seungyeon can press on the button and she turns on the side, her arms reaching up to adjust the plush ears of the headband that the shorter girl is wearing. “There, much better. Aigoo, you look so cute,” Gyuri almost coos, one of her hands reaching the other’s cheeks to pinch them. She bursts into a laugh at Seungyeon’s face, the less than impressed expression contrasting with the polka dot bow and fluffy ears on her head.

Seungyeon rolls her eyes, nudging her friend to get back in position again. “Let’s just take that picture, Gyuri-yah.” There’s no time to waste on a picture and no need to find the right angle or the right pose. Memories shouldn’t be staged and she nudges Gyuri a second time. “Come on, hurry.”

The countdown she has started to force Gyuri to stand still is interrupted by what seems to be a family of four taking a picture just beside them. Their cheers and laughs are so loud the two of them end up turning their heads to the side to see what’s happening. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” Gyuri suddenly exclaims and Seungyeon nods as they watch them take silly poses and leave the shop after a last picture of the two kids – a little girl who can’t be more than six or seven and her older brother – holding hands is taken. The little girl takes a last look over her shoulder upon exiting the store and waves shyly at them as their eyes meet. The two girls share a look before waving back with huge grins.

Seungyeon starts counting down again once the little girl can’t be seen anymore, the pink wings attached to her back swallowed by the sea of people walking across the main street of Disneyland.

It’s about time they leave.

The two girls share a look and a nod through the phone screen that is reflecting them and Seungyeon tiptoes to raise her arm higher, wrapping her free arm around Gyuri’s shoulder.

“A picture is worth a thousand words” is a saying she has often heard from Gyuri.

As Seungyeon takes a look at the picture she has just snapped and the funny faces they have made and she realizes that her friend might be right.

No amount of words could have expressed the joy radiating on their faces and the happiness of being there and together better than twelve millions of pixels stocked on a cell phone.

Los Angeles is good to them. Seungyeon just hopes it stays that way.

-

Gyuri paces in the living room, throwing an umpteenth look at the black and hot pink plastic bracelet watch on her left wrist.

Seungyeon should arrive soon, she supposes.

The UCLA campus is only twenty minutes away from the two-room apartment they have decided to rent together even before leaving Seoul. It had never been precised before that this was only on good days with close to no traffic.

Today isn’t a good day.

Not for the thousands of drivers trapped within the City of Angels' streets and not for Gyuri.

It had been an experience, being alone for the first time in the three weeks they have been in the States. She had always knew that it would happen, that Seungyeon would need to start attending classes at some point but she hadn't expected the burst of loneliness that had hit her suddenly when she had found herself waking up to a silent house.

It is normal, though, she reassures herself. Bad days happen to everyone.

The jingle of keys outside the door freezes her on the spot momentarily and she watches as her friend enters their flat. Seungyeon’s shoulder-length hair is gathered in a messy bun and her reading glasses sliding off her nose. Gyuri finds her cute and she smiles.

Seungyeon drops her backpack on the wooden floor, the loud thump of the dozens of books Gyuri supposes are inside. Gyuri cringes.

"Bad day?" she asks, not beating over the bush. She knows Seungyeon, has seen that face – corners of the mouth slightly tugged downwards and drooping eyes – enough times to know what it means.

Seungyeon hums and shrugs, the grey hoodie she's wearing falling off her shoulder. There's an air of resignation on her face. Gyuri swallows back the sigh that is threatening to slip past her lips, opting to softly smile instead.

"It's over now," she says as she draws her best friend into a hug, arms wrapped tight around her waist. "I felt lost," Seungyeon finally whispers after minutes of silence, her face buried against Gyuri's shoulder.

Gyuri just squeezes her softly, lets her gather her words. The student takes a deep breath and then another one.

She isn't sure what to do. She hasn't seen Seungyeon so vulnerable in a long time but they only can count on each other now. She just continues to embrace the other and whispers encouraging words in her ear.

"It was just really different," Seungyeon adds, her fingers playing with a loose thread of Gyuri’s tank top. "No one talked to me, I couldn't understand some of the discussions they were having, the car refused to start thrice and—"

"I will make you tea," Gyuri interrupts her, releasing her hold on her to paddle towards the kitchen a few meters away. It's not really a kitchen – just a fridge, a two burners stove and a sink – but it's better than nothing. "So, the car you said?"

"Yeah," Seungyeon sighs, letting herself fall back down on the couch and grimacing as it squeaks under her weight. "It just didn't want to start, don't think we will keep it long anyway."

It was a cheap car, the cheapest they had found on Craigslist. They hadn't been curious about the low price and hadn't cared much either, too focused on getting a car without spending too much of the ten thousands dollars they had saved before moving out of Korea.

"Well, luckily we won't have to keep it long," she pipes in, ignoring the curious look Seungyeon gives her as she continues, flipping her hair haughtily, "I will be the most famous actress of all time soon."

The laugh that greets her ears makes her smile and she strikes a pose, biting on her bare lips and winking at her female companion. "Park Gyuri will buy you a car, baby."

"Oh God, stop it, you're embarrassing." Seungyeon cringes, but the bright grin on her lips betrays her. Gyuri indeed stop, still sticking her tongue out for good measure.

The whistle of the kettle breaks through the silence just as Seungyeon asks her about her day.Gyuri is relieved as she turns her back to her friend and busies herself with preparing their drinks.

Words about how she was unable to communicate with their elderly neighbor or how she spent the day waiting for calls that never came are burning her lips, but she licks them in an attempt to chase them away. Seungyeon doesn't have to know, doesn't have to be aware that something as simple as asking to borrow salt is out of reach for Gyuri. Those are her own burdens to carry.

"It was good."

Seungyeon flashes her a smile and a thumbs-up. "It’s gotten even better now since my day has been blessed by your beautiful smile." Gyuri jokes, trying to keep a straight face. She means it.

"Ew."

They both break into a laugh and Gyuri is sure of it, things will get better.

-

"Can you read a line of the script for us?" the man at the center of the table asks, eyeing her from head to toe critically.

The way his lips curves downwards in distaste is probably not a good sign but he doesn't say anything else and Gyuri nods. She steadies her hold on the papers, takes a breath and starts.

Her eyes skim over the lines quickly, reading them for the umpteenth time that day. She recites them the best way she can, the best way she had learnt to in the acting classes she had taken in university.

It's just a silly part in a morning soap opera, one minute and a half of screen time at best. Gyuri thinks of the better parts she could have gotten in a SBS or MBC drama by now with her acting degree from Konkuk or the connections she had. She blinks these thoughts away and ignores the bile burning her throat.

It's not Korea. it's Los Angeles and she can't allow herself to be picky about the casting offers she gets. She has to start somewhere.

The man, whom she guesses is the producer, raises a hand and she blinks a few times. Why is he stopping her already? What has she done wrong? She doesn’t understand.Her fingers unconsciously tear the piece of paper apart as she harshly bites on her lower lip to stop more words from coming out of her mouth.

He doesn't lose time in dismissing her. "What are you even saying? Come back when that awful accent is fixed."

She simply nods. Her nails dig into the palms of her hands as the urge to bow to them almost takes over.

It's not Korea. It's not Korea. It's not Korea.

Gyuri doesn't owe them anything, no respect and no smile. There's no need to follow customs of a culture they don't seem to even know anything about and don’t respect. She leaves the room without looking at them, not knowing if she's more upset at them or herself.

It comes to her as a flash, a bright revelation. She has to start somewhere. Directly at the bottom.In Korea, she was Park Gyuri, a woman of twenty-two, freshly graduated from a good rated university. She had a bright future awaiting her, with a feet already in the entertainment industry thanks to the minor parts in some weekend dramas she had scored for herself and impressive networking skills.

But there’s something she can’t ignore any longer — It's not Korea.

-

Gyuri isn't surprised when she opens the door and finds Seungyeon slumped on the couch. Her legs are tucked under her and a tube of french vanilla ice cream is in her hands. "Another bad day?"

It has been five weeks since her classes have started and things haven't gotten better. They haven't gotten worse either, Gyuri said to her a few nights ago, and it was true. Things could be worse.

Tonight, though, she just wants to indulge into the mopping fest that is going on in their living room.

"Yeah. Today sucked." Gyuri lets out a chuckle at that word, only having learnt what it meant a few days ago.

She nods and scoots closer to the couch, taking a seat next to her friend and laying her head on Seungyeon's shoulder. "It truly did."

They both watch the tv show Seungyeon had put on after that. Gyuri struggles to keep on with the plot, the bad acting she's subjected to not helping. She wonders how these kids could have been casted when they’re so bad at acting and she closes her eyes.

Seungyeon pokes her on her side a few minutes later and she holds the spoon towards her. One of her eyebrows raised in a questioning way. “Want to share, Gyuri?”

The lack of honorifics still feels weird. Gyuri figures she’s not the only one feeling that way as she sees the grimace Seungyeon makes as the words roll off her tongue. They have been trying for weeks to blend more with the locals and to only use English.

It was a wise decision, they had declared. Staying in their bubble wouldn’t do them any good in the long term. It didn’t mean that it was easy. More often than not, they found themselves struggling with the urge to just slip into the comfort and familiarity of their mother tongue.

She nods, grabs the spoon and plunges it into the ice cream tube without hesitation. “Thank you, Seungyeon-ah. Vanilla was a good choice.” She doesn’t look at Seungyeon as she says that. Her Korean sounds almost awkward after not having been used in what seems forever. It’s not breaking their promise, she believes. No, it’s just a moment that they both need. She doesn’t want to listen, talk, think in English anymore. Today, she refuses to do so.

Seungyeon replies almost immediately and Gyuri bends her head to scoop some more ice cream, her long hair hiding her face and smile from view. It’s not breaking a promise if both parties don’t respect it. “But don’t eat everything, I still want some, okay?”

“Okay. I will buy you another one if I finish it, though. Might even make patbingsoo for you next time.”

“Call,” Seungyeon says, lips curling into a smile that makes Gyuri forget about her day. “Ah, I really miss home.”

A life in the USA had always been source of dreams for the both of them and all they had talked during their university days.

What had been silly plans had slowly but steadily transformed into reality. It had been fun to see it happen, even during the hardest moments. The long weeks Seungyeon had spent waiting for a letter of admission that had lost itself in the mail or the double amount of shifts Gyuri had taken at the Tous Les Jours café she had been working at to earn more money had been quickly forgotten when their plan had finalized itself.

It had been fun, but today, Gyuri had realized it could also be tiring.

The American dream can be more than the glamour and glitter that had blinded her until now.

She replies in an instant, as if her answer is evident (and maybe it is). “Me too.”

-

Weeks and months pass. New Year Eve comes knocking on their door before Gyuri even realizes it.

It's easy to forget. The high temperatures and almost constant sunshine present over LA are so different from the cold and sometimes white Decembers she had gone through till now. It simply doesn’t feel like it’s December.

Christmas had been a small affair. Neither of them are Christian or had much money to spend on presents. Casting auditions haven't gotten better and she has been pulled apart so many times that she has grown numb to criticism.

Some things, she has legitimately tried to fix – her accent, her control over the English language or her hair that she has cut to mid-back and dyed a rich chestnut color. Some things she has refused to ever change. She hadn’t hesitated a second to discard the plastic surgeons’ business cards she has been offered.

Even the American dream she has been dreaming about for so long doesn't justify the need to transform herself into someone she isn't. It's what her job is about, but when she wakes up and look at herself in the mirror, it's Park Gyuri she wants to see.

Sticking to your convictions in a town where everyone is willing to step on you if it means getting closer to their dreams isn't simple. She will make it, though. She is certain of it. That's why she continues running from audition to audition, never picky about the roles or the shows she could be casted in.

But today hasn’t been her lucky day and when she opens the door of her apartment, she just wants ice cream, a hot bath and Seungyeon. Always Seungyeon.

"Seungyeon?" she calls, her eyebrows furrowed together at the lack of light in the living room.

Her best friend has started going out more now, has made friends with a few classmates of hers. It had taken her a few weeks but Seungyeon had finally adjusted into her new life, getting better both in her classes and at socializing.

Gyuri is proud and happy for her. She’s perfectly aware of how the other girl had thrown away full rides in prestigious korean medical schools to try her luck abroad, and thus despite only getting a partial scholarship along with her acceptance letter to the David Geffen School of Medicine.

Seungyeon had willingly followed Gyuri out of the country, had started to dream the same things as her after countless nights of lying in the same bed and reinventing the world.

It’s a satisfaction that one of them is making it, albeit tonight, Seungyeon’s new found happiness leaves a bittersweet taste in Gyuri’s mouth. She’s spending the last day of the year lonely and away from all her loved ones, no matter how close or faraway they are living.

Misery makes the best company. Gyuri isn’t so sure about that.

But it’s alright, because the day is almost over. It’s alright, yes, because tomorrow is a new year, a better year, a successful year.

A year with her best friend by her side, too.

-

Communicating through post-its on the fridge isn’t ideal but it works for the both of them. It’s life, Gyuri thinks, as she removes the hot pink sticky note from the fridge and puts it in her bag with a smile on her face.

It’s another morning greeting from Seungyeon. The med school student has already left an hour ago for her eight o'clock class. Her message is full of emoticons and well-wishes for the day and the five or six castings she has lined up for herself today and Gyuri can only smile as she reads it.

“Fighting,” she repeats, her finger tracing the word written in huge capital letters.

She chuckles at herself as she grabs her small pad of post-its left on the kitchen counter and a ballpen to reply. Seungyeon won’t be able to see it until late afternoon, after her last class of the day – medical neuroscience as she has memorized – is done but it’s alright.

It’s a short message that fits her, sweet and to the point, and she smiles as she sticks the bright yellow to the fridge door.

Seungyeonnie~ Hope you had a good day! Don’t study too much and don’t miss me too much! Fighting to you too! I love you.

-

“I got the role!” Gyuri bursts out upon entering their apartment, surprising Seungyeon. The student is sitting on the ground, dozens of books opened around her.

Seungyeon blinks, stopping typing furiously on her laptop as she looks up at her friend who is grinning widely. “You did?”

“Yes!” Gyuri nods, watching her as Seungyeon removes her laptop from her lap and puts it on the ground before getting up. “I can’t believe it, it’s just a minor role in that show I talked to you about but I get to appear in seven episodes.”

Seungyeon wraps her arms around her. “Congratulations, Gyuri-yah.”

Gyuri hugs her back, jumping up and down in excitement and ignoring the protests that Seungyeon emits. The joy of finally succeeding, of having a producer notice her talent is enough to send her over the moon.

She is on top of the world, a step closer from reaching the stars. Tonight, she feels confident enough to tackle everything that comes her way, confident enough to let out her feelings in the open. “Let’s go out, I’m treating you to dinner,” she proposes, cheeks slightly flushed. Maybe tonight will be the night.

“Okay. Let me just change, I'm not—"

Gyuri takes a quick glance at her. You look beautiful, even in sweatpants and hair hurriedly tied in a ponytail, she thinks as she shakes her head. "You look fine the way you are."

Seungyeon leaves their apartment in grey sweatpants, navy UCLA hoodie and flip-flops.

She hasn't changed.

-

They're seated in the Italian restaurant they have found a few weeks after their arrival from Korea. It's a small restaurant owned by second-generation Italians and both girls have become regulars, fond of both the cuisine and the convivial ambiance of the place.

"So, what's this role about?" Seungyeon asks, her fork digging into her plate of spaghetti carbonara that has just been served.

"Oh, I'm playing that super smart girl who is tutoring the main character," Gyuri explains, not able to give more details about her part in that CW show teenagers are apparently raging about on social medias. She will only get her script for her first episode in a few days and only a few to little information has been disclosed to her. "Super smart and super hot," she adds, laughing. "That's the best kind of tutor!"

Seungyeon clinks her glass with Gyuri's cocktail, looking her friend straight in the eyes.
She chuckles as she takes a sip of her lemonade, having refused to order alcohol as she has classes the next day. "To you and your role full of Asian stereotypes! May you change history!"

Gyuri rolls her eyes, used to the sarcasm of her friend. She's aware that her cultural heritage might have been more of an advantage than her talent but for this role but still, she prefers holding onto the hope that this first role is the start of something. Greater projects might be awaiting her. "I will change the world, Seungyeon-yah. You won't ever believe it."

"Don't forget me when you're the most famous actress of the universe, okay." Seungyeon jokes, chewing on a mouthful of pasta.

Gyuri smiles and throws her a look full of fondness. "I could never—" she starts before the shrill ringtone of Seungyeon's phone – g.o.d's To Mother – interrupts her.

Seungyeon bites on her lower lip, embarrassed, as she stands up to take the call. She comes back a few minutes later with an apologetic expression on her face. "I need to get back home."

Gyuri looks at her in alarm. "What's happening?" she asks in Korean, the thought of something bad happening thousands of miles away enough to make her hands tremble. "Is it your parents?" she continues, hiding her hands under the table before Seungyeon can notice them shaking

"No," the other girl replies, "my parents are good."

Gyuri lets out a sigh of relief. Seungyeon's parents are almost reaching seventy and Gyuri knows her friend has always worried about them while attending Yonsei. This hasn't changed, especially not that they're living on opposite sides of the world. "That's a relief. What's going on, then? Do you need me to drive you at the airport?"

Seungyeon shakes her head, not looking at her. "I don't need to go back to Seoul."

“What?”

“I need to go home, back to our flat. One of my classmates called and I need to forward her some notes urgently. I’m sorry, Gyuri-yah.”

Home. Home isn’t that stupid apartment, too cheap and too old to truly feel like theirs. Home isn’t that place or that town, it isn’t. Gyuri refuses it to be.

“I’m sorry, too,” she rasps, aware that for being an actress, she’s probably being a lousy liar tonight but it’s okay, because she isn’t even sure Seungyeon has heard her. Her best friend is already halfway out of the restaurant, her plate of spaghetti barely touched.

Gyuri doesn’t feel hungry anymore but she stays seated, chewing on the veal meat of her Saltimbocca absently. She can take her time finishing her plate. After all, she won’t come back here ever again.

-

Gyuri furrows her brows as she stares at the email her mother has sent her a few hours prior. It’s a rather basic email, one she has gotten dozens of times over the months she has been living in Los Angeles. This time, though, Gyuri doesn’t know how to reply to her mother.

How Seungyeon is doing is a question she doesn’t hold the answer of.

She has no idea what Seungyeon has been up to recently. They haven’t had a moment to talk since that night of celebration almost eight weeks ago. The post-its they used to leave each other have turned from lovely messages written with care to barely legible scribbles written in haste, and only when there’s an important message to relay.

They’re both busy. Seungyeon is almost done with her first year of med school and she has been casted more and more after that minor role on the CW.

Her career is finally going somewhere, slowly and steadily and she can’t let that opportunity slip through her fingers. Sacrifices have to be made. Gyuri is aware that the woman she considers her best friend might be one of them and she has to accept it.

Some nights, sleep eludes her. She’s then left wide awake in her bed, wondering where things went wrong and if they are ever going to go back to how they were before and she ignores the voices in her head telling her that she wants moremoremore than what Seungyeon had ever given her.

Instead, she finds comfort in the fact that they’re just a step closer to their dreams and reassures herself by knowing that it’s just the both of them being too caught in the swirl of everyday life.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard, the blank page still as empty as a few minutes ago. She sighs, casting a look at the empty page as if the answer to that question was written somewhere.

Type, erase. Type, erase. Type, erase.

She tries to reply, really does but the words don’t come. Park Gyuri isn’t a liar.

Her mother never gets a reply.

-

The clock strikes midnight. Gyuri stops reading the script that is laying on her lap for a second as she glances on her left, at the wall of concrete that is separating her from her best friend. It’s not the only wall keeping them apart but, this one at least, she knows how to break if needed.

Almost as a sign of fate, the door of her room opens. She blinks the shock away as she watches Seungyeon taking place next to her on her single bed. It feels cramped, even more than usual in a room where there’s only enough space for a single bed and a dresser but Gyuri says nothing. She continues highlighting all her possible lines in the thick script she has gotten in the mail earlier that day.

It’s an offer for a huge role, one to play the main character of a movie adapted from a young adult novel that is been on the New York Times best seller list for months. Gyuri knows it’s probably the opportunity of a lifetime and she’s excited at the prospect of it.

“What’s this?” Seungyeon asks timidly, her eyes fixed on her lap. Gyuri doesn’t say anything, puts the cap on the sharpie back and drops it on the bed. “It’s,” she hesitates, not knowing if she wants to share the news with Seungyeon. She might make a breakthrough in her career with that offer, might be leaving her for months to film in the Gobi desert, too but it isn’t the time to discuss it.

In the end, she doesn’t say anything. “It’s nothing, just another proposition for a role.” It’s not a lie, she says to herself as she ignores the raised eyebrow and the curious glance the other is throwing her.

“Oh, that’s good.”

Gyuri hums. “Yes.”

“Gyuri-yah,” Seungyeon whispers, reaching out to grasp her hand. “I—” she tries before pausing and clearing her throat to start again. “I hate this situation, I hate not knowing if you’re angry or if we’re just busy and I’m sorry— I’m so, so, so sorry.”

“Don’t cry,” Gyuri pleads, the tears pooling in Seungyeon’s eyes tugging on the strings of her heart. She has never wanted that, never wanted to make her cry. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Seungyeon sobs. “I’m— I need you, Gyuri-ah.”

Something must have shifted in the air. Suddenly, Seungyeon’s face is so close to hers and Gyuri takes in a deep breath. She could kiss her if she wanted. She could kiss her and confess all the pent up feelings she has been dealing with since their university days, she could—

But she doesn’t.

It’s a time for pardon, not confession and instead, as she gathers the younger one in her arms, Gyuri is sure of two things – one, her life isn’t complete without Han Seungyeon and two, she will confess soon.

-

The confession never happens. It can’t happen as she stumbles on a sight she would have wished to never see – her best friend making out with another girl on their couch, in their place.

Filming had been tough today, ending late into the night and she had just wanted to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe even get a hug from her best friend.

It’s funny, Gyuri thinks, how she can still be surprised that Seungyeon likes girls as she watches them breaking apart, ignoring the last kiss that girl initiates as if she wasn’t even there.

She had always nurtured the thought that it was true, that Seungyeon could and would reciprocate her feelings but she hadn’t even thought once that maybe, she couldn’t be who Seungyeon wanted. It hurt a lot, hurt as nothing ever did before.

“Gyuri-yah, wait!” Seungyeon yells, scrambling off her partner's lap and readjusting her sweatshirt before Gyuri has even time to run into her room. “It’s not what you think it is!”

Gyuri scoffs and Seungyeon knows right at that instant that she has made a mistake. “What do I think Seungyeon? Enlighten me.” The words come out viciously. Gyuri wants to take them back as soon as they leave her mouth but she doesn’t. “Weren’t you kissing her? Weren’t you?”

“What if I was?” Seungyeon finally explodes, triggered by her friend’s attitude. Her eyes are wide with rage and Gyuri wants to kiss that anger away. She doesn’t. Seungyeon continues, her lips curling into an ugly sneer. “Yes, I was kissing Yoojin and yes, I liked it! What are you gonna do, uh?”

Gyuri doesn’t step back, doesn’t back down and instead, takes a look at the girl who’s sitting on the couch. The name triggers something inside her and Gyuri finally recognizes those doe eyes and that smile. It’s one of Seungyeon’s classmate, a nice but brazen Korean-American girl she has herself hang out a few times with under Seungyeon’s insistence. The girl doesn’t look ashamed, looks straight into her eyes with what seems to be a smirk on her lips and Gyuri curls her fingers in a fist.

“That’s what you think? That I’m fucking,” the gasp reasoning in the otherwise silent apartment doesn’t make her stop, the anger burning in her veins wanting to make her destroy and hurt, “upset because you’re kissing a girl? That’s what you think of me, Seungyeon?”

Usually, Seungyeon’s crestfallen expression would have been enough to make her drop it and apologize, her heart not able to take it. Today is different – she has no heart anymore to take care of.

“Gyuri-yah!” Seungyeon tries, searching Gyuri’s face. “Please— You know I didn’t mean to—“

What has Seungyeon mean to say? Gyuri doesn’t know anything, doesn’t know anymore. It’s better to end this now.

“Good night, Seungyeon.”

It’s when she closes the door to her room that she realizes she hasn’t used honorifics once.

But then again, she’s not even sure she knows who Han Seungyeon is.

-

Crying over what you never had is useless but if only for tonight, she will indulge and let go of what was never truly hers in the first place.

If only for tonight, she will mourn a best friend and a crush, mourn a love that had never got the chance to bloom.

If only for tonight, she will mourn the role she has given up in the name of love and the dream she had but will never come true.

If only for tonight, she will say goodbye to everything that could have been hers but will never be.

-

Seungyeon drops the news a morning in late August. “I’m moving out.”

For all the times Gyuri has been surprised, this time she isn’t. She has seen it coming even. Rooming so far away from her campus had always been annoying and she had known Seungyeon hadn’t moved on campus to stay with her, to be a part of her dream.

But so many things have changed in a year and it’s time to accept them.

Gyuri shrugs. It doesn’t fool either of them but nothing is said. “Do you need help to move your stuff?”

“No, it’s okay. Yoojin will help.”

“I see.” Soggy cereals have never tasted so gross but Gyuri forces them down her throat.

Seungyeon clears her throat, lingering over the threshold as if leaving now would mean leaving forever. It probably does. “I won’t be needing the car so I’m leaving it to you.”

Gyuri just nods and Seungyeon continues, undeterred. “Gyuri-yah, I’m— It will just be easier for me. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want things to change.”

Gyuri shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips. “They will. They already have.”

“I promise they won’t. Trust me.”

I can’t, she thinks.

“Okay,” she says.

-

Things change, despite their best efforts to make it work.

There were regular phone call and dozens of text messages between classes or filming at first, have communicated more in three months apart than in six living together.
They even seemed to get closer despite being apart and maybe, Gyuri had hoped, calling her her best friend could make sense again.

She had hoped but never dreamed, forever burned after falling on the ground from wanting to reach things too high for her. Gyuri had learnt. It was better to enjoy things while she had them and hold no expectation.

She had been right to do so. It avoids her the pain of another heartbreak as phone calls turn into voicemails that are never answered and daily texts turn into texts every other week.

A minute in three weeks, that's all she's worth. The realization still hurts Gyuri more than she thought it would.

But she still calls, calls and calls again, in a desperate attempt to make it work if only for the sake of their beautiful memories. Years of friendship can't be turned into ashes and dust so easily.

She still tries, is still willing to make efforts. She would listen to endless conversations that are implicitly about Yoojin if Seungyeon asked for it, would be ready to continue letting them run even as the words she hears tear into what's left of her heart, seeking a relief that Seungyeon hasn’t ever allowed her.

Yoojin, Yoojin, Yoojin. Gyuri wants to hate her but she finds out that she can’t, not when she makes Seungyeon happy. Seungyeon deserves happiness, with or without Gyuri in her life.

Back in Korea, Park Gyuri was Han Seungyeon's best friend. In Los Angeles, everything is different and as Seungyeon stops replying and never answers, never calls back anymore, she isn't surprised.

Gyuri has been put on the edge, and is now standing on the thin line that has been drawn between holding on and letting go.

She takes a step forward.

Goodbye, Han Seungyeon.

-

Gyuri looks around her with curiosity, the bed she's sitting on creaking as she moves to readjusts her position. The mattress is uncomfortable but then again, she’s in a hospital, not a four-star hotel.

From her position, she can see the sun slowly rising. It has been a few hours since she has checked in, maybe three or four if she has to guess. It could have been longer, Gyuri doesn't really know. Hours and days are all the same for her, blurring together and always repeating.

Life isn’t a dream anymore, just a circle she can’t figure how to get out of.

It's a busy night in the emergency room of the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. It was just another busy night at work too, one that had left her with a black eye and a myriad of bruises on her arms and a reason to visit a hospital for the first time in years.

She hadn't wanted to but the police hadn't left her a choice.

Waitressing had never been an easy job, not in this city and the bad joint she's working at. It has been four years, four long years of serving drinks and being overly flirty with disgusting customers but it still hasn't gotten easier, no matter how much she has tried to convince herself otherwise over the years.

Tonight had been particularly tough, brawls happening in the bar left and right. She had been caught in it without even trying, wouldn't have been able to avoid it even if she had tried to.

She hadn’t.

Getting hit had made her feel for the first time in years. It had brought her back on earth, her that had been stuck between dreams and reality. She is too much of a realist to dream again, too much of a dreamer for the pathetic reality she’s being stuck in.

A gasp can be heard from the threshold and she turns her head to look in that direction.

Of course, it would happen. It was an awful plot in the awful movie that was her life. She had always knew it could happen, but had hoped it never would.

"Park Gyuri?"

She nods, too tired of her night and the woman in front of her to say anything else.

"It has been a long time, Gyuri-yah," Seungyeon tries, stepping closer to her as she puts on latex gloves to examine her. It has been years since Gyuri has last heard Korean on another way than through the phone and it brings her to happier, better times.

She closes her eyes, chasing the memories away. "It has." She finally retorts in English, because Korean is only for people she’s acquainted with and she doesn't know that woman, doesn't know who the Han Seungyeon who is examining her is.

"How have you been?" Seungyeon asks, writing a few things on her file. Gyuri doesn't know if it's just politeness or genuine concern, doesn't bother to find out either. It’s disconcerting, makes her want to gag.

She just wants to leave, wants to forget that a door from her past has been opened.

A sigh escapes the intern's lips and Gyuri almost feels bad for not answering, for not trying. Almost. Childishly and only for a moment, she thinks that it’s her turn now. To not answer, to not try.

"You can go discharge whenever you feel ready," Seungyeon says, removing her gloves and throwing them in the bin. “It’s nothing bad but I will prescribe you a few painkillers.”

Seungyeon opens her mouth and Gyuri grips the edge of the bed, the cold metal bringing relief to her hot skin. What could— “It was nice to see you again, Gyuri-yah.”

That's when Gyuri sees it, the slightly pale mark on her ring finger. All the air leaves her lungs as if she had been punched in the guts. It was supposed to be over but it's clear as day now, it hadn't really been over.

The shattered fragments of her past dreams hadn’t been properly removed from her heart and her mind. They’re now cutting into her and she’s left breathing for air.

"Congrats," she chokes while she hops off the bed before she breaks down completely, walking past the one who was once the center of her universe, was worth all the stars and was all the dreams.

Gyuri doesn't even know why she's congratulating her about – her wedding or her achievements, maybe even both. Seungyeon has succeeded where she has failed.

Han Seungyeon is a doctor and a wife and someone who has accomplished her dreams.

Park Gyuri has ruined hers to make someone else shine.

The dreams that they had shared, Seungyeon had made them a reality while Gyuri had given them up.

But upon leaving the center, Gyuri finally gets it.

It's not about understanding what happened to her American dream. It's about letting herself dream again.

She's ready now.

-

In another life, in another dream, Han Seungyeon could have been hers.

But the dream she had been holding onto all these years had never been theirs.

Now, she's ready to find someone who will share her dreams, who will be ready to make sacrifices of her own.

As she steps in the plane, she feels liberated. It is time.

She came to Los Angeles with two leather suitcases full of memorabilia, her dreams, a crush and a best friend.

Five years later, she leaves for Seoul with nothing but herself, decided to leave everything behind.

She's starting anew and it's alright.

Soon, she will be dreaming again.

day one: "13 flown" for bluedreaming (2/2)

unnimod — Mon, 22 Jun 2015 04:46:26 GMT

PART ONE

Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:

September

Summer has faded from vermilion to a washed out candy red, the same shade at the back of Amber's eyelids when her closed eyes tilt into the sun glare. The chipping red on her nails and the flaking rust on her car door don't match, though.

Not that color coordination has ever mattered much to Amber. She keeps the cottage apartment in a style Taeyeon's mother calls 'eclectic' and Baekhyun once called 'thrift store deluxe.' Something piecemeal and vibrant that reflects the rainbow jumble in her heart.

The sun is out, the mist asphyxiating in the light, but the air rolling off the bay is cool against Amber's eyelids. They still haven't turned off the AC in the hotel lobby and Taeyeon huddles behind the front desk in the mornings in a navy wool cardigan that makes her look like a bored librarian.

Amber works up enough of a sweat dragging her cart up and down the halls, but she regrets leaving her jacket at home now. She'll just make this a quick trip though, pull over at the Shell station for a soda and a hot dog off the rotisserie rack.

The parking lot is empty. She rolls the windows up but leaves the keys dangling from the ignition, navigating around a large fan only to get hit with a blast of aircon in the doorway.

"Welcome to--oh hey, Amber!"

Amber stops short, flip flops squeaking on the welcome mat, and the glass door hits the back of her heels when it swings shut. "Hey there." She waves at Jongdae and he waves back. He looks even skinnier than usual in the red uniform polo buttoned up to his throat. The visor with S H E L L embroidered across the brim obscures his eyes and most of the awful perm he got at the end of summer, the week before--

"Long time no see! You haven't hung out with the gang in weeks."

"Yeah, well, I'm busy." Amber returns his smile but looks away to scan the refrigerator cases. The rows of red label vodka and cheap whiskey tempt her for a moment but it's not worth it. She has to head back to work in twenty.

"Tourist season's over, it's almost October. What's keeping you from the loving arms of your best mates?"

Amber shrugs. Her hand cups the aluminum shoulders of a Pepsi Classic for a moment before pulling down a 12 oz. bottle. Coke Zero, because she actually ate breakfast today, Cocoa Puffs and 2%. She hasn't bought eggs in three weeks.

"There's no reason to hide, you know. No one's mad at you, and we'll give you all the space you need." Jongdae's voice is small. It matches his size, barely tall enough to reach the packs of cigarettes stocked above his head behind the wide counter.

"I know that. I'm sorry, but it's just...it didn't go the way I planned, I'm still figuring myself out right now." Amber misses them too. She even misses Byun Baekhyun and his loud, obnoxious laughter. It's nice to know they miss her, really fucking nice, but even if she showed up for Tequila night on Friday it wouldn't be the same. They wouldn't get the same Amber Jongdae thinks he's inviting.

"Ok." Jongdae smiles, and Amber has no idea what he's thinking, no idea what anyone thinks anymore, but at least it looks real. He seems genuine, and that's enough for now.

"If you didn't think I was stupid before, you must really think I'm an idiot now, huh." Amber sets her bottle on the counter. The scanner chirps with a red laser flash. $1.89. 45 mg of sodium. 0 kcal.

"I don't think that." The receipt chugs out of the printer, eight and a half inches of bleached paper for one item of sale.

Amber doesn't meet his eyes because she's sure he's heard, if not from Taeyeon then from the town rumor mill. Everyone knows about the same wrong turn she loses herself with every weekend and also on some Tuesdays, swallowing down her darkness and letting strangers’ teeth bruise her skin into a garden of roses and violets.

"Really, Ambs. We just don't want you to get hurt." He holds out the receipt but Amber shakes her head.

"Too late. But thanks, man."

"You know," he says, and Amber's sandals squeak on the welcome mat and her fingers streak the glass. "Some things are learned after practice and practice, like saying 'apology accepted' rather than 'it's okay'. And that's not stupid at all."

"I thought this is when you were supposed to say, 'have a nice day.'" Amber laughs at her own joke but doesn't check to see if Jongdae even smiles.

"Go check Facebook. Wish her a happy autumnal equinox. Ask her what's she's doing for her birthday. Just take a small step, and it might make you feel better."

"Bye, Jongdae." Amber lunges out the door and gulps down her coke in the parking lot.

She waits to log onto Facebook until she's alone in her room, the storm shutters opened to the burgeoning twilight. Her fingers rattle the keys. It takes her two tries to remember the password, a quiet smile in the airport lobby rushing her limbic system and blocking out the rest.

She had let Krystal board the flight to New York with only a wave. Taeyeon smiled in the car back to the hotel from the airport, satisfied that they were fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, enough time to stop at Cracker Barrel instead of In-N-Out for lunch.

Amber threw up her hamburger and strawberry milkshake in the hotel parking lot behind the yellow rose bush. Taeyeon's mother gave her the weekend off to recover from the flu and Amber didn't correct her misassumption because she needed a day of hibernation, anyway.

Now Amber curls into the same sweat stained comforter she hasn't bothered to wash since then. She chews on the ragged edge while she waits for the wifi to load the page, first the blue header at the top, then the sidebar showing friends online.

Just a small step, Jongdae told her, but Amber's not backing down now. Her resolve tastes like iron under her tongue and the beat of moth wings in her heart stir her stagnant feelings into spun sugar, dandelion gossamer, the color of dreams coming true.

She pulls up the chat window. The online indicator next to Krystal’s name glows like a green light for what Amber's about to do. She ignores the slow stream of posts popping up on the home feed and starts typing.

Krystal, I know I should have said this weeks ago, hell months ago if I'm completely honest, and now I want to be 100% honest about everything with you, about the way I--

The cursor blinks like a pennant in a stiff breeze as she holds down the backspace.

Krystal, I lov--

Another post unfolds at the top of the page and Amber's thumb slips on the touchpad, minimizing the chat window. She curses the computer in her lap, glaring at the photo that rudely interrupted her confession.

She stops short when the haze of anger clears from her vision and Krystal's smile comes into focus at the top of her screen. White teeth and caramel hair. Black cocktail dresses and a tan suit. Fluorescent glare off the rims of champagne glasses and a diamond ring. Amber clicks.

Krystal Jung and Eric Nam engagement party, the caption reads. After three bittersweet years, our love has matured into something rare and beautiful, a fairy tale ending to our dark chocolate dreams. We've had our share of misunderstandings, but absence truly does make the heart grow fonder, and the sign of a truly loyal partner is someone who always accepts you back just the way you are. Please join us this New Year's Eve, Thursday, January 31st, 2015, to help us celebrate our--

Amber pops the battery pack out from the back of her laptop and carefully closes the lid. She shoves it under her bed before feeling under the covers for her phone.

hey Tae, rly sorry but Im coming down with some kinda flu. Im taking a sick day 2morrow. love ya bye.

The answer she's looking for comes less than a minute later. Amber checks it without unlocking the screen. kk, feel better! chu~

But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

March

"What's this one from?" Taeyeon flicks the yellowed postcard with her thumbnail and licks the froth from her upper lip.

"Chicago World's Fair, 1893."

"That old?" Taeyeon's next mouthful dribbles back into the mug. She rubs her fingertip in apology over the abused corner of faded cardstock.

"Nah, it's a reissue from 1954. Still old enough to treat it with respect, though."

"Hmm." Taeyeon hums in the back of her throat but Amber's not sure if it's an acknowledgement or vague dismissal. Not that it matters, because her attention wanders from the crisscrossing nylon ropes of clipped on images as she strays closer to the window overlooking the sand.

"Are these storm shutters new?" She flicks at the weathered wood through the mesh of the window screen and Amber is amazed she hasn't chipped her hot pink nail polish by now with all the flicking.

"They've been here longer than I have."

"Hmm..."

Amber's fingers still over the snapshots she's sorting through when Taeyeon comes up behind her to rest a hand on her hunched shoulder. Taeyeon uses the leverage to lower herself onto her knees beside Amber at the coffee table, but doesn't remove her hand even once she's safely sitting on the ground.

"Why don't you put that one up?" Taeyeon takes a slow sip and Amber gives her a look.

"This one?" Her fingers skim the blurry image, another faded polaroid of Krystal like dozens of others that Amber keeps boxed up under her bed. Krystal is curled in the covers piled on Amber's mattress. Her hair spreads like a gauzy veil over the planes of her face and the coiled lines of her body extend like an arabesque in reverse, a flower blooming inwards like the soft introverted spirit of woman herself.

"She looks like a snail napping," Taeyeon comments with a halfhearted laugh echoing into her drained glass. "It's cute. Can I keep it?"

Amber doesn't say anything as Taeyeon gathers the textured margin of the snapshot in a delicate pinch of her fingers. Taeyeon pushes off the edge of the table to lay her mug upside down in the sink basic to drain.

"It looks like a graveyard in here." Taeyeon's lingering in front of the picture wall again, the fragmented mosaic of Amber's heart, the collage of her dreams. "Why do you have all these monochrome photos of dead people you don't even know?"

ffWhack.

Taeyeon's fingernail smacks against a posed wedding portrait. There's no name or date on the back. Amber picked it up at a flea market from a bin of abandoned and homeless family photographs, but she knows it's circa 1930 from the drop waist gown and tulle veil gathered in bunches at the bride's temples.

"To cultivate a sense of the here and now, the urgency of living life full steam ahead." Amber speaks the words with conviction like she hadn't read the same phrase on an inspirational scented candle at the same flea market and scoffed.

"Well I don't think it's healthy." Taeyeon licks at the cold sore on her upper lip, stripping it of the milk foam lingering on the cracked skin. "You need to brighten this place up."

"Nah, that's ok." Amber shakes her head and shuffles a few more photos of dead people to the top of the pile in front of her, before Taeyeon can spot any more gems she'll want to take home with her.

"I'm still hungry. You have any peanut butter in here? We could make sandwiches with the jam in your fridge."

"Nope. Just the jam. But you're welcome to it if you still want a sandwich." Amber turns to face the window to hide her grimace. Taeyeon's been her supposed best friend for how many years now? And she still can't remember Amber's aversion to the sticky stuff.

"Hey, didn't I take this one?" Amber's heart stops for the briefest of moments, the way it does every morning when she passes the photos on her way into the kitchen for a glass of pool flavored tap water. "Both of these, right?"

Amber nods, a heavy rhythmed death knell tolled by wary features. She printed the two in question from the facebook album Taeyeon posted the night after their outing. The first is a group shot Jongdae took for them, kneeling in the sand while the girls posed in matching flip flops. As soon as the official 'photo shoot' ended Taeyeon took back her camera and pestered them for the rest of the day, snapping candids of Jongdae's volleyball serve and the simple poem Sehun had traced in the sand, but mostly of of her boyfriend's ridiculous face.

The second picture Taeyeon is fingering with a look of interest is Amber's favorite. Her absolute favorite - not including the scrap of a cereal box signed a Tony the Tiger mascot when she was in grade school. It's another candid Taeyeon snapped on the sly, of Amber and Krystal walking hand in hand into the sunset, the glimmer of moisture on the sand setting their feet aglow in the periwinkle haze of twilight.

"You guys kinda looked cute together." Taeyeon shrugs, and shakes a slice of sandwich bread out of the bag on the counter. "Too bad it wasn't real."

Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers- / Up many and many a marvellous shrine

May

"Hey, I brought beer!" Baekhyun breezes in with the wind off the sea, screen door slamming behind him.

"Who invited you?" Amber groans, slamming her diet coke onto the coffee table with a tired glare.

"Me, myself, and I!" Baekhyun announces with a laugh, like he's expecting Amber should be happy to see him.

"Aw, let him chill with us, Amber." Taeyeon's hard lemonade is sweating in her hands. A stream of fat droplets slides from the glass onto Amber's T-shirt and Amber can't tell Taeyeon no. This is Taeyeon's parents' cottage apartment after all, which Amber is staying in by virtue of being on their payroll and also being their only daughter's best friend.

"Hey, is it cool if my cousin comes to hang out a bit later? She's visiting Cali for the summer, some research gig, and doesn't have any friends up here. So I promised to introduce her to some people."

"Yeah..." Amber nods, more focused on watching Baekhyun scrounge through her cabinets for a bottle opener than what Taeyeon is saying.

"Cool! I'll text her to come over then. I think you'll like her, the both of you will. Krystal's really fun."

"Krystal?" Amber blinks at Taeyeon's glittering eyes over the sparkle of dewy glass under her fingers.

"My cousin," Taeyeon glares, "who I said is coming over?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." Amber rubs the fatigue from her eyes (or rubs it in) with the heels of her hands.

"Ahah! Found it!" Baekhyun hums a familiar tune to himself as he slams the kitchen drawers and tiptoes over to the coffee table Amber's slumped over.

"Are we drinking this straight?" Taeyeon clinks a turquoise nail into the the cap of the beer bottle in her boyfriend's hands. Baekhyun grunts, accenting the tune he's humming with soft puffs of intent air.

"I sure am. Your lemonade's already spiked, honey."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Taeyeon twists out of his grip with a hoarse laugh, eyeing Amber's coke can.

Amber clutches her soda to her chest. She only has one can left in her fridge, and she needs it to wake herself up tomorrow morning. She will be pissed if Taeyeon decides, on one of her whims, to sacrifice Amber's caffeine for a Tuesday afternoon alcoholic soiree.

"You're so weird," Baekhyun complains, throwing emphasis onto the last word til the 'r' trills in his throat. "Coke and beer, lemonade and beer, nasty!" He shakes his head like a dog, scrunching up his nose and letting his tongue hang out a bit.

Taeyeon smacks him in the arm, and then the back of the head when he snickers at her. Amber is sympathetic to his feelings, though. Weird drinking habits was something Taeyeon brought back with her after her year abroad in Berlin, along with a chunk of mortar she claims is from the remnants of the wall and a pair of polarized aviators to rival John Lennon's.

"You want one?" Baekhyun offers the opened bottle to Amber but she shakes her head. The fermented grain stings sour when she inhales.

"Lemme go find the vodka stash, if you two are really set on getting smashed in the middle of the afternoon. On a Tuesday of all days."

"Who cares what day of the week it is?" Baekhyun shoots her an incredulous glare as she hauls herself up and into the kitchenette area. "It's summer, isn't it? No school, no schedule, just the sunshine and the water and love." He stares into Taeyeon's eyes with a sickening grin and Taeyeon (the freak) actually stares back with a smitten blush rising in her cheeks.

"I never have school," Amber points out.

Baekhyun, like the brilliant and overachieving chemical engineering student he is, just grins. "Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you're footloose and fancy free now. Bye bye college degree dreams, and all that."

"Baekhyun," Taeyeon warns in a low voice, but he just winks at her and knocks back a swig.
"So, when is your cousin getting here?" Amber turns to Taeyeon, watching in distaste as Baekhyun nudges his girlfriend's legs apart to settle crosslegged on the floor between them.

"I dunno. Soon, probably." Taeyeon doesn't look up from her phone. Amber can't see from her seat on the floor who it is she's texting.

"Because I have to go to bed early tonight. Your mom wants help setting up the parish fundraiser in the morning and--"

"Chill, 'Ber, it is 3:00 in the afternoon. I'm supposed to help out with that too, but there's plenty of time to get smashed and sleep it off before then."

"Mm," Amber grunts into her coke can. She plucks at the tab with the blunt edge of her fingernail, wondering how long many flicks it would take for the aluminum to snap free.

"Baek, would you quit that!" Taeyeon smacks her boyfriend's hands away from her thighs, where he's shamelessly nuzzling the inside of her knee. "It tickles. I swear to--!"

The doorbell sounds, a gentle blend of chimes that echoes in the empty front hall.

"I'll get it!" Baekhyun hops to his feet as Amber drops the lid off the vodka onto the coffee table.

"Hello?" he yells in greeting before he even gets the door open. Amber cringes in embarrassment, hoping it isn't the cranky FedEx driver who would no doubt deliver her packages to the wrong doorstep for months in retaliation for rudeness. "Oh hey! Come on in, you!"

"Hey," Amber hears a soft voice answer, then the click of stilettos or maybe heeled sandals on tile.

"Amber, meet Krystal. Soojungie, this is Tae's bff, Amber." Baekhyun comes back into view, leading a thin girl in cut offs and a lacy top with an arm around her waist.

"Don't call me that, Baek." She shoves Baekhyun off of her with a gentle punch to his shoulder, which he takes as an opportunity to hiss and moan in exaggerated pain as he slinks back to his spot between Taeyeon's feet.

"Hey, girl!" Taeyeon waves til her bangles jingle. Krystal waves back, slipping a pair of pushed back sunglasses out of her long hair.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Amber stands on unsteady feet, toes pulsing as the blood rushes back to them. "Or get you...anything?" Amber's not used to playing host except when forced, but she's learned the basics of service and hospitality in the 18 months she's worked in the hotel.

"Nah, thanks though. I'll just..." She looks around for a place to sit, the stems of her sunglasses clinking as she taps them. The spot beside Taeyeon on the sofa is empty, but she'd have to climb over Baekhyun. That would put Amber in much the same intimate position as Baekhyun is occupying in his girlfriend's bubble, Amber realizes with a start, and hastens to drag a chair over from the other side of the narrow room.

"First, have a seat of your choosing," Amber gestures between the sofa and the wicker armchair, "and then please, lemme mix you a drink. Or there's beer if you'd rather?"

"I'll just..." Krystal glances to Taeyeon, who is still preoccupied with the keyboard on her iPhone. "I'll have what everyone else is having." She settles on the edge of the sofa cushion, knees spread boyishly and long fingers twined in a demure fold in her lap. Amber grins, relieved to recognize her guest's hesitation must be because she's shy, not because she's snobbish about being in the humble cottage.

"Great, I'll pour you one of everything, then!" she answers with a wink. Krystal blushes pinker than Taeyeon assaulted by Baekhyun's tongue and snatches up a quilted throw pillow to prop in her lap.

Amber pulls down a stack of juice glasses to mix the vodka in and grabs the pretzels from the top of the fridge while she's at it.

"So, uh, what brings you to these parts?" Amber gives the red Koolaid a stir before dribbling it into the glasses.

"Research," Krystal says, sitting up straighter until the edge of the cushion nestles just under her bustline, defining the round shape of her small breasts through the loose top. "Marine biology. I'm working on a seasonal team with one of my professors."

"Ooh, biology, huh?" Amber smiles, trying to think of a way to extend the conversation and draw Krystal out of her shell since neither Baekhyun nor Taeyeon seemed interested in trying. They're both busy on their phones. "As in, ichthyology? Do you study giant squids?"

Baekhyun perks up at that, glancing over with his mouth hanging open until Krystal's surprised laugh sidetracks his deep sea interest.

"No, nothing like that. We're studying the life cycle of Nereocystis subspecies. Northern California has some of the largest cold water colonies."

"Nero-cystic-what?" Baekhyun takes a noisy slurp and knocks his forehead into Taeyeon's knee with a frown.

"Nereocystis, Baek." Krystal repeats herself with a sigh but doesn't sound particularly put out with him. She probably has to face uneducated questions about her work every day, Amber realizes.

"What?" Baekhyun curls his hand around the first drink as soon as Amber has it mixed, gulping the top inch down with a greedy suck instead of offering it to the guest.

"Seaweed, Baek, she studies seaweed."

"Oh!" Baekhyun shivers, his face contorting into a disgusted face that draws another giggle from Krystal.

"I thought I explained at Christmas, Baek. Were you so drunk on the eggnog you weren't listening, hm?" Krystal props her elbows on her knees, accepting the next glass from Amber with a nod of thanks.

Perhaps Baekhyun doesn't consider her a guest, Amber thinks next. Maybe she's the odd one out in this circle of intimates, even if she's known Taeyeon since sixth grade and Baekhyun since 8th when he'd started dating her best friend. Of course he would have met Krystal, he's been flying out to New York with Taeyeon's family every Christmas since senior year of high school.

"Was that eggnog even spiked?" Baekhyun twists around to look at Taeyeon. She just shrugs in response, leaning away when he tries to poke her in the cheek.

"Aunt Clarissa made it and she's a Baptist, so I doubt it. Baek gets drunk on the atmosphere without any help from liquor," she adds to others with a laugh.

"Then why is he still sober," Krystal deadpans, mouth red from the dye that's wet on her lips.

"Because y'all are no fun, obviously." Baekhyun's snort is interrupted by a louder one from Taeyeon, who mutters something about his poor taste in friends.

Amber knocks back a straight shot before mixing the next with a dash of red from the pitcher. She's too used to the couple's bickering to let their grouchiness burn bitter on the back of her tongue. She'd much rather focus her attention on Krystal's musical laugh, which deepens with every gulp from her glass.

Amber can feel the stress of the day loosening, starting from the pinch in her elbows and floating free in her wrists and ribcage until she's laughing along, too. Her fifth glass makes the sunbeams waver in the air, shifting helices like cords of rising smoke from Taeyeon's incense burner. Krystal's fingers skid across the slick damask of the cushion cover but her laugh rings true through throaty grunts of amusement that Baekhyun belts out in spurts.

They all end up on the floor, propped up on cushions around the coffee table when Baekhyun proposes a drinking game that everyone will be regretting in the morning. He pulls a resistant Taeyeon into his lap and nuzzles into her neck until she concedes to his rules, but ends up taking her penalty shots for her anyway.

Krystal slides into Amber like kelp washing in with the tide, limp limbs plastered across the boulders of Amber's propped up knees, when Taeyeon steals her pillow. Slick strands of red tangle like mermaid's hair in the sunset in Krystal's dangly earrings, and Amber can't stop her fingers from curling up on the waves of laughter to brush them behind her ear.

"'Ber, you ok? You need some water?"

Amber shakes her head at Taeyeon's slanting frown, but heaves herself out of Krystal's sprawling embrace anyway. They've polished off the pretzel sticks and Amber's stomach is glowing with a warm hunger vibrating in her nerves.

The floor tips up, Amber's toes pressing through the linoleum like a wire egg slicer through yolk when she stands to hunt for the bag of stale potato chips that probably won't taste that stale when they're this drunk. Her feet carry her to the bathroom instead though, and Amber takes that as a heavenly sign to use the toilet and splash some water into her eyes and mouth.

She leans her forehead against the wall as she collects the gravity to twist the door open. Her forehead presses heavy against tile, melting through the porcelain ice as her own laughter echoes in her ears. She hasn't felt this spectacular in the loosest sort of way since winter, but then it was cold and now it's the end of spring and summer is waiting for her on the horizon and along the beach and perhaps curled up on a cushion next to her coffee table.

Amber moonwalks down the hall to the kitchen, feet lighter than the foam on the surf until Taeyeon drags her back to earth with a yank from fingers tight on her elbow.

"She's hands off, so ask first before you start tying girl scout knots in my cousin's hair." Taeyeon's glare wavers in the rippling tide of the water glass she shoves into Amber's hand and up to Amber's lips.

"What?" Amber gurgles through her first swallow. The water tastes like a swimming pool and not like the ocean and Amber doesn't know if that means she should laugh or cry.

"Krystal. She's hands off because she dumped Eric over Easter break but he still wants her back. Now do you get it?" Taeyeon's fingers are gentle on Amber's cheek, brushing away droplets of water and setting them free. Her stare burns into Amber's retina's like a foreign sun, black and relentless, and Amber nods through the haze of Taeyeon's words like she understands.

"I'll hands off," she agrees, "as soon as Krystal tells me to."

"You--!"

Amber never finds out if Taeyeon would have actually called her a bitch, or something worse, or something in Korean perhaps, because Baekhyun stumbles into the fridge and knocks down a hailstorm of magnets with his elbow.

"Sorry," he says, lips wavering between a dazed smile and a tearful sob. Taeyeon helps him up from the floor as Krystal careens into the doorpost, her laughter flowing from the tips of her vermillion sunset hair into Amber's currents.

Gleams up the pinnacles far and free- / Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-

January

"How are you doing?" Taeyeon dips her toes into the stagnant pantyhose pooled on Amber's living room floor. She kicks them across the linoleum to the TV with a disgusted click of her tongue.

"I'm managing." Amber slams the fridge door. "Beer?"

"Is that Natty Lite? Did Sehunnie leave that here? I'll pass." Taeyeon waves a glib hand, purple zebra stripes on her nails stinging Amber's eyes. "You got milk? I'll drink that as long as it's not whole."

"You want that vanilla soy stuff your mom drinks?" Amber wrinkles up her nose and lets the folds of her pushed up sleeves tumble down her forearms in a gray waterfall.

"I don't imagine you stock that here!"

"You are right," Amber says, and shoves a stack of junk mail into the silverware drawer before Taeyeon can paw through it.

"Two percent. I started drinking it last month because of the vitamins, or something. That's what you have, right?"

Amber has half a quart of vitamin D fortified 2% setting in her fridge. And a slice of American cheese in filmy plastic. And a heart as fermented and pungent as the kimchi on the bottom shelf. Whole milk is brain healthy but Amber feels sick sucking down the rich cream drifting at the top. She still hasn't managed to feel whole again, her mosaic a kaleidoscope in the bottom of the drained bathtub instead of cemented into a something.

"Here." The milk is cold and it isn't sour. Amber checks with a short sniff at the mouth of the carton before she fills Taeyeon's glass. It isn't sweet though. The cabbage leaves packed in garlic and fermenting in pepper paste at the back of the fridge make sure of that the day she opens a new bottle of it.

"Goodness gracious, 'Ber! Do you care to explain this?" Taeyeon raises a stray pair of silk shorts drifted behind the drooping arm of the sofa like a flag of Amber's unabashed indecency. "Who on earth have you been bringing in here?"

"Those are mine," Amber cuts in a hard voice. Taeyeon might have believed her if she didn't blush as she said it, though the words are true. As soon as Alejandro dropped them there and blazed out of her life on his motorbike, they became hers.

"Don't make me laugh." Taeyeon scoffs through her teeth, mouth wet, lips glistening.

"Finders keepers." "I'm keeping this one, because it looks like the curve of your ear. I like your ears, Amber. Did I tell you that last night in bath? I can't remember, but it's true."

"Losers weepers," Taeyeon says, and drops the boxers into the open trash bag of recycling sagging next to the back door. Mostly crushed cans empty and sour with the remnants of Sehun's disgusting cheap beer. "Just let me help you clean out the cottage. Throw out the trash at least, sort the laundry."

"Thanks, but I'm managing." The stainless steel neck of the faucet clutched in Amber's fist outlines the dankness of her own sweat on her palm.

"Fine," Taeyeon says, and leaves her empty glass next to the sink. The screen door slams behind her and Amber shivers in the draft.

The viol, the violet, and the vine.

another May

A storm wakes her, and for once it's the violence of spring forcing the earth awake, pouring down life whether the grass wants it or not. For once it's not the darkness nestled between her organs taking her apart, one colored chip of tile at a time, dream by dream.

No hints of moonlight make it through the purple oppressing the sky, but the blasts of lightning stabbing from cloud to cloud illuminate the starburst scars on Amber's neck and the vines that twine in the furrows of her ribs. The blue blooms whisper in the flashes in the mirror.

forget me not, my (once upon a sometime) love~

She throws on a T-shirt and throws open the window, biting into her tongue. The sand is wet against her soles when she hits the ground numb. She can't feel the shells slice into her feet while she runs with the wind.

The sky is on fire and Amber is drowning in freedom as acid rain soaks her hair, fills up her mouth and her ears and her lungs. The world is dark wherever it isn't burning, and Amber sprints out of a dream on the fine line between flood and flame.

She won’t burn tonight. She chases the surf, combs the curling waves in search of red swirls of mermaid hair, shell pink ears buried in the sand, starfish fingers folded demurely in the jagged rock lap of the cliffs.

The sky is on fire. The FM broadcast signals must be haywire from the buzz of electricity latent in the air. Only static plays on the radio when her alarm goes off, but Amber isn't there to hear it.

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,

day one: "13 flown" for bluedreaming (1/2)

unnimod — Mon, 22 Jun 2015 04:42:43 GMT

Title: 13 Flown
Recipient: bluedreaming
Fandom/Pairing(s): f(x) Amber centric + Amber/Krystal; side Baekhyun/Taeyeon
Rating: PG-13
Length: 11k
Summary: "Let me just say it's a bad idea, my friend. It'll wreck you if you have a summer fling and fall for her along the way..."
Warnings: language, alcohol, sexual content, mentions of Amber/OC and Krystal/Eric Nam
Notes: The text dividers are direct quotes taken from two poems; the purple lines are from Ernest Christopher Dowson’s “Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae”, and the blue lines are from Edgar Allan Poe’s “The City in the Sea”. Thanks bunches and bunches to my beta for helping me out on this fic !

November

She sits up in the dark. The moon is hiding behind the wisps of storm clouds and the smoky stirrings of organza curtains at the open window. The closed over wound on her heel aches with the kiss of moisture in the dank air. Amber winces, pressing her thumb into the scalloped teeth marks left by the broken shells that had bit into her callous.

She should have put more antiseptic on it like Taeyeon said to, and changed the bandaid when it got dirty. Amber forgets to keep up with little things like that these days. She should probably check on the 2% in her fridge, speaking of. It's probably gone sour.

She reaches for her lighter on the nightstand instead of for the switch on the desk lamp. Her fingers brush against the broken picture frame that refuses to stand upright now. Amber could always ask Baekhyun to fix it for her. He could probably make it work though she wouldn't be surprised if he stuck used chewing gum to the back of the frame.

She doesn't feel like asking though, so she'll just take out the polaroid and clip it to her sagging washline in the morning. Or whenever it is that she drags herself out of bed tomorrow.

Her phone lights up in the dark, distracting her from her anxious hunt in the dark for a cigarette.

you awake babe? thinking abt u

"Fuck off, Alejandro." Her breath slips through her lips like stale smoke. Her cough is dry in her throat and wet against her palm. She deletes the text with shaking fingers. Tonight is not the night to give into her loneliness, assuage it like a craving for cheap cigarettes.

She falls face forward into her pillow, the brittle tips of her bleached bangs grazing the sour linen before her lips sink into the down. She drifts off with champagne glass laughter clinking in her ears and the rosy bouquet of hair falling across silken shoulders drifting in the stillness.

No rays from the holy heaven come down / On the long night-time of that town;

August

It's the end of summer and the sun outside burns brighter than the flicker of the lights overhead. Amber's back is drenched in sweat. The plaster of her shirt against her spine stings under the AC blast. Her forehead burns behind the curtain of salt stiff bangs and she clutches her purchases tight to chest. Reese's cups and cherry cough syrup that glows like pomegranate juice drunk from champagne flutes but will burn like artificial sweetener on the back of her tongue.

Good thing she can't taste today, olfactory senses obliterated by congestion that is blocking up her mind as well.

Amber hates being sick. It physically sucks for one thing, but more than that. When her head is floating a few feet above her neck like a fever fueled hot air balloon, that's when the other part of her psyche takes over, the part she doesn't trust. The part that feels things.

Aisle end cap with floppy pool noodles. Mustard coated pretzel bites on sale for $3.99. Room temperature coke bottles imprisoned in green plastic crates waiting to be stocked once the fridge case empties. Disposable film. Cough drops.

She wanders the store in freeze frames, flickers of dying light bulbs chopping her vision into disjointed segments that don't make sense even in context. Who the hell decides what to stock in a drugstore, anyway? And why don't they sell cherry vodka. Smirnoff Ice might do her more good than the poison flavored drugs in plastic bottle under her arm.

Taeyeon will glare at her though, angry puppy eyes and an exaggerated pout looming closer until she shoves Amber's back up against the fridge if she dares come home without the medicine.

You promised. If not with your lips, then with your eyes and the toss of your braided hair that gleamed like forever as it fell through my fingers...

Amber shakes her head, not hard, because even the slightest jarring movement sends a sharper jab of pain down her spine reverberating from the dull throb caught between her temples. She's only half awake, drugged into permanent drowsiness with a gulp of warm water from her nightstand glass before she even climbed out of bed in the morning. Now is not the time to be writing poems when her hands are full and she doesn't even have a pen and her phone is dead at the bottom of her handbag in the car.

Shit. Amber shakes her head, hard this time, and whimpers at the pain. Her brain feels like Jello that didn't set right, still runny and warm, left out on the counter. She clutches the candy package a bit tighter to her chest before dumping it and the cold medicine bottle in an aisle bin of stuffed animals.

Taeyeon won't glare at her when she drags herself back to the motel lobby empty handed and mumbles to the shelves of the mini fridge that she forgot her wallet. She'll just bounce on the seat of the rolling chair behind the desk til her pencil skirt slides higher up her bare legs and her curled bangs flop into her eyes, accentuating the cuteness of her pout.

Amber pauses in front of the sliding doors, feeling the AC curl out into the heat like the life force draining from her own limbs with every cough. She wishes she was brave enough to waltz out the doors with the candy slipped under her muscle shirt. She really wants to take the peanut butter cups home. They were Krystal's favorite.

The heat swallows her, humid lips and tongue, sunlight rays needling her bare arms like kitten teeth as she limps back to her car. The equal reaction to the force burning her up from the inside. The fever burns more fiercely than the feelings sunken deep in her heart like a brand. The black upholstery inside her car feels like an oven.

Amber, watch! Watch me!

Amber groans, knocks her forehead into the steering wheel until she can feel a bruise blooming between her eyes, another layer of pain to the sinus pressure behind her eyes. That flaming hair and rough laugh, the sound that was like music and sand between her toes--won't leave Amber alone.

Those Reese's cups were Krystal's favorite.

Amber hates peanut butter.

Amber hates...

You love me, don't you? You think I'm great! I know it, even if you won't say it.

"Shit," Amber whispers to the smudged reflection in her rearview. She doesn't check behind her before pulling out of the lot.

Taeyeon isn't even there when Amber drops her keys on the reception counter and heads straight for the closet of Lysol and latex free gloves. She'll go back for the candy after her shift's over. And maybe the medicine, if she's feeling it.

But light from out the lurid sea / Streams up the turrets silently-

December

"Wow, this is... extensive." The lady in the padded chair gives Amber a long, searching look. Amber just smiles, oddly proud of the laminated pages in the Walmart binder she'd just handed over.

"It'll take awhile, but it's definitely what I want. I spent all autumn putting it together." Amber taps the front cover of the binder with her thumb. The heavy ring caught below the ridge of her knuckle thunks on the cardboard inserts. It's a cheap binder, but the design on front is yellow and gray chevrons. Cheerful, but subdued in the same blink.

"It'll be expensive," the lady says, staring harder, but Amber doesn't back down, doesn't even blink.

"Do you require a bank statement from my lawyer? Or can we start?"

The lady rolls her eyes like she's heard it all. "Name's Charis, by the way. Take your shirt off and I'll start marking off the outlines."

Amber's grin gets lost in the armful of flannel as she yanks her shirt over her hair. Her fingers hesitate at the hem of her camisole, but Charis shakes her head. "Nah, leave the tank on. We won't get to the torso today. Let's start with your lower arm and see how that heals up."

Amber blinks at the catch of light on the needle. Her teeth flay the chapped skin from her lips when the tip breaks her skin, piercing like a hungry mosquito.

Whose wreathed friezes intertwine

June

A brand new Schwinn with polished fenders is parked next to the mailbox, a royal blue banner announcing Krystal's arrival an hour before they're supposed to rendezvous on Amber's driveway.

"Krystal?" Amber's voice is dry in the humid air. Her slippers scuff on the stones when she steps down off the landing to retrieve the paper she never reads. The yellow sleeve the paper is stuffed into is wet with dew. Amber's hand jostles the doorknob when an answering "hello" rings out from behind the cottage.

Krystal pokes her head around the side of the house, short skirts hiked up around her thighs. It's a dress Amber's seen her in a few times, but the red bandana tying up her maroon hair is a new accessory.

"Sorry I'm early. I honestly had no idea how long it would take to bike here, and, well...!" Her laugh glistens in Amber's sleep filled ears like the surf rushing into a conch shell drying on the sand.

"You shoulda had Tae pick you," Amber scolds with a shake of head, but she's already pulling Krystal up the stoop and into the apartment. "Breakfast?"

"She didn't want to drive all the way out to camp to get me, it's too far this early. And breakfast, yes please!" Krystal drops her bunched up skirts to throw an arm over Amber's shoulders in a comfortable lean as Amber whisks her into the kitchen. Amber sits her down with a glass of juice and fries up her standard, foolproof, guaranteed to impress sunny side up eggs, the fall back option in case any of her overnight guests aren't a fan of the cocoa puffs or shredded wheat stocked on the pantry shelves.

Krystal isn't shy about the food, forking down the eggs with more enthusiasm than the last girl who shared Amber's bed and stuck around for breakfast. That chick had been some hipster from the valley though, who dressed in harem pants and refused Amber's greek yogurt and green grapes because they weren't certified organic.

Amber hadn't been too disappointed when she never called back. Not that she was expecting her to. Most of the tourists flow back to where they come from, south or east or wherever. Sometimes out to sea with a death wish easily answered by the angry Pacific.

"This is good stuff. What are the green flake things?" Krystal has a smear of yellow on her lip. Amber wipes it clean and sucks the yolk from her thumb before answering.

"Tarragon. Dried. But the fresh stuff is better if you have a garden."

"You don't have a garden."

"Nah, and I don't have a bike neither." Amber has a mailbox with Taeyeon's mother's name on it. She has a box of polaroids and a box of unused film. She has a mood ring from 8th grade stashed in her dresser drawer, one that matched Taeyeon's until Taeyeon traded it for Baekhyun's class ring in the fall.

Amber doesn't have a college degree or a boyfriend or a bicycle. She doesn't have frosted flakes or froot loops in her cabinets. She's doesn't have a garden since the rain drowned her window box tomatoes last spring.

"It's not my bike. It's on a loan." Krystal takes another bite, smearing creamy yolk at the edges of her lips and Amber doesn't know if this is a messy attempt to flirt, an invitation to just--

"What are you staring at?" Her lips curl into a coy smirk that has Amber squirming against her seat for an agonizing moment until the toaster pops.

"Ah! 'S hot." Amber drops a crusty slice of bread on Krystal's plate, ignoring her question as she peels the lid off the margarine tub. "Are we taking your bike to the beach?"

"I thought it gets more rocky, further up the coast." Krystal's penciled in eyebrows slide up into the wisps of her bangs.

"Yeah, but we're going to a sandy stretch. Tae insisted you had to see a real live beach before you head back to the city." As if the expanse of yellow sand that backs up to the resort hotel isn't a beach, but Amber hadn't complained at the suggestion of an outing.

"Live? A live beach?" Krystal giggles into the crunch of crust between her teeth. "Should I wear hiking boots then, instead of sandals?" A wiggle of bare toes grazes Amber's shin. She jerks in surprise at the brush of cool skin before hooking her ankle around Krystal's with a searching smile.

"Don't want to get bit by a crustacean," Amber whispers, and her elbow takes a bath in someone's orange juice glass when she leans in to wipe the smitten look off Krystal's face with a soft press of her lips.

Their breakfast is interrupted when Luna and Jongdae pull up in the jeep, and Taeyeon and Baekhyun show up soon after with a car load of Henry and Sehun snoring in the back.

"Here, you hold that," Taeyeon shoves a wrinkled highway map and a thermos at Baekhyun as she fixes the lens cap on the DSLR slung around her neck. "You girls ready to go?" She doesn't wait to see Amber or Krystal nod before pointing to the back of Luna's jeep. "You can ride with them, unless you want to rouse those two sleeping beauties from the dead. I swear, Sehun sounds like a lawnmower when he has pollen allergies."

"He always has pollen allergies," Baekhyun yawns, patting his gaping mouth with the tattered accordion folds of the map.

"I know." Taeyeon sniffs and pushes her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to stare at him. "I was trying to be nice."

"Where do you want us to put the picnic hamper?" Krystal points to the basket of food, packed and waiting on Amber's front steps next to the porch swing.

"Oh, Baek honey, can you throw that on in the trunk? And mind the volleyball doesn't get squashed near the jumper cables!"

Baekhyun thrusts the thermos and map at Amber with a huff but loads the hamper into the car as soon as Taeyeon pops the trunk.

It isn't a long drive up to Taeyeon's favorite private beach, just over an hour, but it's long enough for the sun to tinge the apples of Krystal's cheeks and the tips of her ears a semi permanent pink. She lets Amber apply aloe lotion and then a layer of sunscreen for her while the guys unload the vehicles.

They set up camp, complete with a hammock slung between two skinny pines on the edge of the sand. There's a fire pit already outlined by large stones in the sand, flame scarred remnants of last month's driftwood bonfire scattered like cremated bones between the rocks.

"That looks like fun." Krystal gestures with the sandals dangling by the ankle straps from her hand. She stripped the buckles off in the jeep before stepping out onto the sand and Amber is itching to lose her shoes as well.

"Just wait til we get the barbecue going!" Amber promises with a wink. Krystal laughs, opening her mouth to reply, but Taeyeon sidles up to them. She hip checks her cousin away from Amber, knocking her into Sehun who stutters out an apology around the armful of foam swim noodles clutched to his chest.

"You didn't meet everyone yet, did you? This is Sehun--"

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." He bows, back arching in a smooth bend until he whacks himself in the face with the red noodle. Krystal laughs again, even louder than Amber, but she acknowledges the greeting with a polite murmur of her own name.

"So! What's first? S'mores, and then swimming, and then volleyball tournament?" Baekhyun cinches his arms around Sehun's middle with a tight squeeze until Sehun is gasping for air with a surprised squeak.

"I think you got that all out of order, honey." Taeyeon tweaks his nose before fitting on her shades. "Come on and let's swim. We can worry about getting the fire going after it gets dark.“

Amber lets Krystal tug her off in the other direction, up the shell strewn shore to inspect an enclave of tide pools nestled in the rocks. She pulls her Nike flip flops off, luxuriating in the feel of damp sand shifting beneath her feet.

"Let's find a starfish!" Krystal tugs on Amber's wrist, then on the camera strap looped over her shoulder. "Can you take my picture with a starfish?"

"But this is just an instant camera. Wouldn't you rather ask Tae if you want a proper portrait?" Amber lets the sharp edges of broken boulder shards dig into her feet as they climb over the outcrop of rocks. Something solid beneath her to keep her from floating away.

"Nah. I like old stuff, anyway. I collect old photographs. Like sepia and black and white originals. Glimpses of a former era."

"That's cool," Amber says, finger balanced on the shutter and already snapping away before Krystal has any warning.

"Hey!" Krystal's mouth falls open in wordless protest at the brilliance of the unexpected flash. Then she's grinning, shaking her head in amused dismissal by the time the snapshot feeds out the bottom of the camera.

They sneak away into the narrow strip of forest bordering the rocks. Amber spreads her sweater on the bed of damp pine needles so Krystal's pale pink skirt won't get soiled, but Krystal tackles her with a shove to her shoulders, knocking her to the spongy ground and straddling her waist before Amber can catch the breath that was knocked out of her.

Amber braces calloused hands on silken shoulders before Krystal can close the distance with her lips. "Does this--does this mean you like me?" Amber's heaving breaths tangle in the spill of red across Krystal's forehead, bangs slipping free from the kerchief. Shadow spangles the planes of her face, soft green light filtering through the lacy patterns of her hair.

"What do you think," Krystal breathes against her cheek, and presses her mouth to Amber's parted lips with a sigh.

They pull apart a good twenty minutes later, when Sehun starts bellowing for Amber to come help him whoop Baekhyun's ass with Taeyeon's volleyball.

Krystal brushes the pine needles from Amber's hair and the neon green sleeves of her mesh zip up sweater. "If anyone asks why we're all flushed and windblown, let's just say we've been jogging? Working up an appetite for those s'mores later."

Amber nods, too breathless to squeeze the words tangling like an old fishing net under her tongue into verbal volition. She's hungry for lunch before the volleyball match even starts, thanks to her interrupted breakfast. Amber quiets the pangs in her stomach, inhaling the trickles of laughter leaking through Krystal's teeth into the salty air and keeps her head in the game.

Jongdae doles out lunch from Amber's picnic hamper after Sehun succeeds in slamming Baekhyun's team into the sand 17-14. They don't light the fire for the wiener roast and s'mores until the sky is the same overcast, starless black as the empty reflection mirrored in the sea.

Amber downs three hotdogs with too much mustard drizzled over the buns, but passes on the graham cracker sugar bombs. She hasn't been a fan of them since Baekhyun stuffed a dead cricket in her s'more on their survival skills camp out freshman year.

Taeyeon slips after her when Amber excuses herself from the circle for a cigarette. Aware of the presence on her trail, Amber stalks away a good distance from the makeshift log benches. She waits in the sand for Taeyeon’s steady footsteps to catch up to her, close enough to hear the strains of laughter when Baekhyun says something ridiculous, but far enough out the roar of the surf will cover the uncomfortable words Taeyeon is no doubt about to say.

"I don't know what you were doing with Krystal in the kitchen before I got there," Taeyeon starts in a voice that sounds like she knows exactly what went down, "or why my cousin turned down my offer to pick her up this morning to bike across town in a dress." She pauses, looking Amber up and down until Amber's dirty toes curl deeper into the sand on reflex.

"But let me just say it's a bad idea, my friend. It'll wreck you if you have a summer fling and fall for her along the way because I think--"

"Does it matter what you think? If Krystal and I think diff--"

"Hey," Taeyeon holds up a hand like she's a cop directing traffic and Amber fights the sudden urge to punch her hand back down. "This isn't love, 'Ber, and I think you'd realize that if you just slowed down and thought about this for a minute, ok? You barely know her."

"Look, I know I'm not some preppy college man from New England's finest--"

"Which is exactly why Krystal could never bring you home to her parents, much less to our grandmother. Amber, I just don't want you to get hurt." Taeyeon turns on her puppy eyed pout full blast, gnawing on her lower lip with her perfect, straight, white teeth.

"Stay out of it, ok?" Amber snaps the cap of her lighter open and shut, fumbling in her back pocket for a slim before flicking on the flame to light it. The tip flares in the dark. "If she's willing to give me a shot, I'll take it."

"Who's giving out shots?" Baekhyun stumbles up behind them, bouncing the volleyball on his knees until he's close enough to hook an arm around Taeyeon's bare shoulders. "Vodka or tequila or--"

"Not that kind of shot, Baek." Taeyeon turns in his arms to face him, melting into his chest as the ball drops to the sand and rolls between Amber's feet. "Come on, rub my shoulders for me? I can feel a tension headache coming on, and I still have to drive us home in the dark."

"Where? Where does it hurt, baby? Here?" Baekhyun is already groping her neck and shoulders as they shuffle back to the circle around the campfire.

Amber hangs back, equidistant between the flames and the crash of the surf to finish her cigarette. It's June, but the breeze cuts through the mesh cardigan thrown over her tank. Amber let's the burgeoning shiver skate up her spine and pretends it's an omen of good fortune blowing her way, a good luck kiss from a summer zephyr. If Taeyeon is right, she’ll need it.

Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;

October

Amber cleans her apartment on rainy days. If just a light drizzle tickles the foam at the edge of the sand she'll head down to the beach for a slow walk in the surf, but if it's raining tabbies and beagles she'd rather not get soaked. She hates the feel of her shirt plastered to her spine, for one thing. And she'd have to wear a bra for sure.

It's rained every Thursday for a month this fall. This week is the fifth in a row. The eaves are vibrant with a velvet sheen of new moss and the window panes sparkle jewel tones in the streaks of sunlight that make it through the cloud cover.

Amber crosses wash front windows off her list before she even finds the squeegee.

Next up is dusting, though, and as much as she sort of wishes she could pop the roof off of her building like a doll's house and let the precipitation hose down the contents for her, that might make more of a mess than it's worth. Amber sighs, fingering the flannel square pulled from her linen closet, and holds her breath as the fuzzy cloth beads with the fine exhaust of the polishing spray.

Natural lemon wax. Classic furniture polish scent + cutting edge cleansing technology. Consult a physician if eye contact results in irritation. The only labels on the bottle Amber believes are the warnings, but she inhales the aerosol scent anyway even if it will give her lung cancer. The cigarettes and Grey Goose will probably kill her faster anyway, if they don't finish off her bank account before that.

Amber always dusts the picture frames first because those are the easiest. She doesn't have to move anything or shake out any of the little lace doily things Taeyeon keeps giving her or unplug anything electric. Picture frames are just there, hanging, as if suspended on some invisible string.

Amber has a lot of photos in her studio apartment, more snapshots and sun faded polaroids than she has frames for. Several dozen are intermixed with travel postcards and other bits of paper she thinks are pretty, clipped to a utility line with mini clothespins. The rest of her collection, probably bordering on the hundreds now, are heaped in an empty shoe box under her bed with the product label turned to face the dusty baseboards.

They had laughed the day they found the pair of jelly sandals, still in their original department store box, at the flea market. The shoe style was named 'Crystal', so of course Amber handed over a five to the old man crouched in the bed of the pickup. He rolled his eyes at them when they wandered away still laughing, the box with the shoes caught under Amber's left arm and a giggling girl caught around the waist with the other.

Amber still has the box. It lives under her bed with the rest of her dust and her monsters.

Amber hates throwing out bits of previously precious things, the stained glass shards of her past clinking in the junkyard of her heart like a mosaic waiting to be assembled. She will, one day, when she has the cigarettes and the free time to get through it. Maybe Taeyeon will even loan her the glue gun.

Until then, Amber just keeps dusting the lids covering all of her broken pieces and tries not to jostle the box too much so the shards can't jab her where it hurts.

Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls- / Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers

February

Amber's skin feels on fire, tiny pricks like sandpaper abrasions flaming across the red surface of her skin, but she smiles when she looks in the mirror. She strips her shirt off in the staff break room as soon as she gets back to the hotel to admire the colors bleeding across her skin in the cracked glass.

Charis started filling in the black outlines with blue and accents of red and green today. The stylized shapes look more like starbursts than flowers, perhaps the design of an antique persian rug enlarged and projected into prick marks across Amber's left arm. The sleeve only has color from the elbow down, but the outlined markings extend across her shoulder and onto her ribcage now.

A pronounced sigh settles like dust over the floorboards and the pores of Amber's bare skin. Amber jerks, meeting Taeyeon's eye in the clean glass.

“I get what you’re trying to do." Taeyeon's emory board saws at the silence. She carries a file everywhere, even though her nails are always perfect, pretty and manicured, pink tipped with clean white. Baekhyun likes to kiss them when he's being silly, or when he's had to much beer from the mini fridge in the back.

"What exactly am I trying to do?" Amber doesn't fold her arms across her chest. She's not ashamed of her body or the recent modifications inked on her skin, though she is annoyed that Taeyeon won't stop staring. Taeyeon's gaze is steady and focused in the mirror even though she already has a fucking boyfriend to striptease for her.

"You're trying to forget her, erase her mark on you by changing yourself. Right?"

Amber smiles at the crack in the glass and not the face fractured in two by the jagged line. "You sound pretty sure already. Why are you asking me for confirmation?"

"So you're not even going to deny it?"

The file sings to a stop and the sudden silence grates across Amber's nerves. She shivers in the dry blast from the heating vent. "Would you believe me if I tried?"

Taeyeon's twisted smile is answer enough as she yanks her shoulders around in the doorway. "Nice try, Amber. Put your shirt back on before my boyfriend shows up with the beer."

Amber's laugh is rough and gets tangled in the strings of her hoodie as she pulls it on. Fucking Baekhyun. If Taeyeon weren't so offended by Amber's erasing exposure, maybe she would have noticed the black letters curling over the crease of her elbow between the leaves of the blue flowers:

forget me not, my--

I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion

July

The reflectors on the winding road glare neon at the end of every turn. Amber can't fall asleep in the car when the radio's ranting into the night and Baekhyun's crunching down a fish taco in the front seat.

She doesn't want to though, not when darkness layers over her skin like scales of velvet moth wings and Krystal's long hair sings against her skin in the breeze. Amber hasn’t slept in days. Krystal's hair smells sweet against the cinnamon spice of Amber's sheets and Amber lies awake in the dark and counts the strands between the pads of her fingers. Amber lies awake and memorizes the sweetness pooled in the dips of her elbows and her collarbones and the hollows of her dark eyes.

Amber has words for every piece of Krystal's sweetness, phrases of nothing and necessity she whispers against the curtain of hair drawn across the white pillow when she's sure Krystal’s asleep. Amber traces the words in slick moisture, etching into the humid cloak on the bathroom mirror with her fingertip. Her tongue paints hues of hunger across the planes of Krystal’s mouth. She reapplies them day after day like a favorite lipstick, painstakingly redefining the edges and serifs of her feelings.

It's the end of summer, but Amber's heart still beats with the same moth wings it grew in May when the girl with the white tipped nails and the mermaid hair sank onto her sofa and all the cracks in her heart. Scaly needs and velvet hopes and winged wishes. Amber's been hoping for weeks now, that she'll step out of the shower and the mist on the glass will reveal an answering message, that a reciprocal confession will reverberate in her mouth when Krystal dives deep into her hollows and shallows.

Can I come visit you at Christmas. I’ll miss you in the autumn. I’ve never felt this alive. I love you.

The words teem in her mouth like fish caught in the cruel net of her teeth, like light that slants through the blinds in the mornings. Amber doesn’t like mornings.

Krystal sighs in the dark, an exhale of sweet mist on Amber's skin as she leans in to rest on her shoulder. Amber rearranges her limbs to accommodate her sprawl. If Amber is tired from bumming at the beach, Krystal must be exhausted by the sun and the waves.
She served every game of volleyball she could cajole Jongdae into playing with her, back soaring, feet pounding the sand and hair awash in the flames of the sun.

Amber had watched, cutting silent words into the sand with limb of driftwood. When Jongdae lost for the seventh time in a row he threw in the towel and crawled to the campfire for a hotdog. Krystal cheered, as if in awe of her own stamina.

You love me, don't you? You think I'm great! I know it, even if you won't say it.

She posed for Amber's phone camera and Amber laughed, a rain of yellow sand through the happy curl of fingers. Amber captured the light while the waves destroyed the poem she left there for the tide:

I do, I do, I do, I--

"Are we almost there yet?" Krystal stirs, elbows knocking Amber's hip joints ajar and head cradled against the softness of her belly. Her eyes blink open, kitten black and widow solemn in the dark.

"Just enjoy the ride," Amber says, brushing her eyes closed with rose petal fingertips. "It will be over before you know it."

Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng

April

Twisted sheets tear at the pulse of her circulation. The swing of pale breasts and tan hips grind her limbs into the heat of remembered summer. Sweat like sea salt stings her ears with the foggy echoes of moans.

Amber cracks her skull on the headboard when she sits up, pulse still slamming into her ears. Steady moon eyes watch her through the window as the noxious vapors of sweetest nightmares curl away from the edges of her consciousness like toxic steam. She pants against the selvage of her quilt. Her breath is sour between her lips and her back aches with the compression of sleepless nights spent roaming the shore and the 24 hour market across the highway.

The moans always tasted sweet on Amber's tongue but they weren't what she ached to hear, what she hoped she could draw from Krystal's lips with the curl of her fingers and the slide of her tongue. Krystal still visits her bed at night, but only to haunt her with maybes and remember? and why...

Amber doesn't know why. Yes she does.

She lights a cigarette. The moonlight is pale like the pallor of ethereal skin between her fingers. The light is cold in her eyes and the smoke whispers hot on her tongue.

The air is dry. The cracks in her skin and the tears in her rough cuticles have been singed by her own desert though, the expanding wasteland behind the garden of blue on her ribs. She feels at the bloom of bites along her shoulder, two day old blossoms wilting purple on her marred skin. She presses punishing fingers into the pang, then cups a gentle palm over the marks to let the coolness soak into her and savor her bones.

It's not love, you're just smitten with the idea of love. Don't fall for a summer fling or she'll wreck you. Crack your marrow, drink your bones up like flourishing roots.

"Fuck you, Tae," Amber breathes into the night. She steps through the sliding door and into the sand. The sand is damp, littered with razor edged shells sharpened by the surf. The air is dark - but the dark that’s burned into Amber's neck and shoulders, a necklace of teeth as primal and brutal as a caveman's trophy, is darker still.

She tames her own darkness and the shifting void inside her with reckless love and empty romance, a different face each time but no one is memorable. Krystal’s eyes are still emblazoned on the backs of her eyelids, an LCD burn.

The sand is damp and the darkness is waiting with open arms. The purple moons, deep reflecting pools under her eyes, and the violet explosions along her neck are too vibrant to let her slip away into the rolling waves of nothing.

She loses herself on the wet sand and casts her heart into the sea, dredging it up again with each footstep towards the dawn.

PART TWO

unnideul fic exchange sign-ups (CLOSED)

unnimod — Sun, 22 Mar 2015 02:13:41 GMT

(information + contact / sign-ups)

Please familiarize yourself with our fic exchange rules before signing up!

To sign up, please fill out this form and comment below (comments are screened) or send an email to unnideul@gmail.com. Remember, you must indicate three separate prompts to sign up. Feel free to add more, but three is the minimum. See our sample sign-up for more information about the form. You will be able to edit your sign-up until sign-ups close on April 3.

As a reminder, this is an exchange for girl groups and female soloists. Femslash, het, and gen are allowed but the main focus of your prompt must be a female artist.

Sign-ups will be open from Wednesday, March 25 to Friday, April 3.

SIGN-UPS ARE OPEN!

Groups/solo artists requested: 15&, 2NE1, 4minute, After School, Ailee, AOA, APink, Bestie, BoA, Crayon Pop, Dal Shabet, EXID, f(x), Fan Bing Bing, Girl's Day, Hello Venus, IU, KARA, Laboum, Lovelyz, Mamamoo, Miss A, Mizuhara Kiko, Nine Muses, Rainbow, Red Velvet, Secret, SISTAR, Spica, T-ARA, Unpretty Rapstar, Zhang Liyin

*This list will be updated as more people sign up. The purpose is to give participants an idea of what's being requested and is not meant to be restricting.