hi everyone! i’m nicole (25+, she/her) and i’m so excited to be here and to finally introduce bae heejin, girl code’s peachee leader and main vocal! i’ve been lurking for a bit while waiting for acceptances, and i already love the energy of this place- i can’t wait to write with you all! feel free to add me on discord (lqdoyeon) for plotting, screaming about our muses, or just chatting.
--- ✦ to keep it short and sweet, here’s a quick rundown on heejin:
✦ leader & main vocal of girl code—the steady, level-headed anchor, and self-appointed spokesperson
✦ one of the longest trainees (i think)—originally signed in 2018 to midas, but trained at a different company for 2 years before
✦ predebut it-girl energy—had netizens in a chokehold over her social media photos before she even debuted. fans dug up old posts from a since deleted account, and she had a whole mini-fandom before girl code was even announced
✦ known for her warmth & quiet charisma—a naturally nurturing leader who takes care of her members
✦ stage presence is effortless—soft but commanding, with a voice that sticks with you
✦ a fanservice queen™—knows exactly how to work a crowd and make every fan feel like the main character. went viral for that one fansign moment (see: career spreadsheet) and has been unstoppable ever since
✦ often seen as the “most put together”—but she’s just really good at keeping things in check.
✦ lowkey a grandma—cooks for her members, maintains an herb garden, and collects vintage cookbooks
✦ big fan of late-night deep talks & handwritten letters—would 100% leave cute notes for her members
✦ has a fish tank in the dorm—most of them are named after phaze members (yes, she thinks it’s hilarious), and fishyun (phaze yuhyeon's aquatic counterpart) is the undisputed star
✦ very much a tea drinker—loves honey tea specifically and probably has an entire cabinet dedicated to teas
✦ obsessively journals—has a whole collection of filled notebooks, and yes, she brings them everywhere
i’m so excited to be here & to write with everyone! my dms are always open, so feel free to reach out if you’d like to plot or just say hi!! ✨💖
"a whole bakery? well, now i know what i have to do if this whole idol thing doesn't work out for me," she states with a chuckle. jiho's mostly joking but back when the hate train for girl code was extreme, there was a time she wondered if she had to look for a different path.
that's why she's just thankful that this last comeback was more successful than she expected. it almost felt like they were allowed to get back on their feet with the success of hot. "i'm not going to mess up. a main dancer never messes up!" with that, she raised her fist up in the air to show her determination before cracking out into a fit of laughter.
with a smile, she grabs heejin's hand before giving her a firm nod. with that, they stepped out of their car to make their way over to the performance area. it's been a while since jiho's been out and about like this—she much enjoyed spending time in the dorms instead—so it was nice to get a look of the cherry blossoms.
"they're pretty, but i feel like they're all going to fall out by next week with the rain that's supposed to come." looking over at heejin, she gave the older female a pout as well as a scrunch of her nose. "maybe that's why these festivals are held in the first place. people know that they can only be caught for a limited time so they all rush over to see them."
heejin squeezes jiho’s hand back as they move through the little path lined by vendors and clusters of festival-goers, the buzz of chatter and the faint smell of tteokbokki and sugar in the air around them. she laughs under her breath at the bakery comment, nudging jiho lightly with her elbow.
“we’ll just rebrand, duh. the girl code bakery. four flavors, seasonal specials only.” she says it so easily, like it's already a given. “i’ll do the taste testing, obviously. leader privilege and all.” she adds with an overdramatic hair fip,
the ease of the moment, the joking, the way jiho lifts her fist in mock-determination,it's enough to make some of the lingering tightness in heejin’s chest loosen just a little. just seeing jiho laugh, seeing her so determined to believe in herself out loud, even if it’s in a teasing way, it’s more than she could ask for, honestly.
"main dancer never messes up," she echoes with a grin. “and if you do, you just convince everyone it was part of the choreography.”
they step closer to the action of it all now, and the breeze carries a few stray petals across their path, sticking briefly to jiho’s hoodie before fluttering off again. the sight makes heejin’s heart squeeze a little. spring always feels too fleeting—too soft and sweet for the world they usually live in.
at jiho’s comment about the rain, heejin hums low in agreement, tipping her head back to catch a glimpse of the bright sky already darkening at the edges with the faintest whisper of clouds.
“yeah,” she says after a moment, her voice a little softer. “things like this… they don’t last. but that’s what makes it worth it, right?”
she glances sidelong at jiho, a little crooked smile pulling at her mouth. “all the more reason we should enjoy it while we can."
and for a second, she lets herself do just that; lets the festival noise fade to a distant hum, lets herself be just a girl standing next to her best friend under a sky full of pink, laughing about bakeries and dance steps and silly things that won’t matter tomorrow but feel important now. because they are important now.
and then, without warning, a spark of mischief flashes across heejin’s face, a grin stretching wide and devilish.
“first one to the cotton candy stand wins!” she declares. no warning, no countdown, before bolting ahead, sneakers hitting the pavement with a soft thud.
my heart is still fluttering over watching your vocal coaching and charm as a leader! how do you manage to be so confident yet warm all the time? 😍
if you’re talking about that clip… i’ll just say thank you before i get shy and delete this~
i’m not confident all the time. but i am serious about helping people feel seen. and i know how it feels to doubt yourself, so i try to be the kind of leader i needed when i was still figuring things out
warmth is intentional. the confidence part is… 50% experience 50% pretending i have a plan ^^
getting to bask in the afterglow of a performance isn’t usually something hana had in mind; unless the other girl code members wanted to go somewhere else once they finished up, she’d be the first to head back to the dorms (or whatever hotel they were staying in, if they were traveling) and recharge, so she can prepare for the tasks that come next. but tonight, it really does feel like they earned it. they earned this, the rest of the night to just relax and have fun like they were just regular visitors at the event.
hana lets out a soft “hmph.” and crosses her arms at heejin promising not to tell their members, though she lets herself bump her shoulder back against hers’. it was too easy for her to feel embarrassed during times like this, which in return made her attempt to act nonchalant.
she still keeps her eyes on anything else happening around them instead of looking directly at her. the people chatting around them as they walked past. the cherry blossoms petals on the ground almost looking like the confetti from a few minutes ago. anything to keep her centered and not thinking too closely about heejin’s words and everything the group’s gone through so far or else she might just start blinking furiously to hold back any tears threatening to fall, which is even more embarrassing.
“that… means a lot. thank you." she hesitates for a second, taking a small breath before speaking again. "… i think… we’re really finding our footing now. all of us. and like you said, i think people are noticing that.” despite her monotonous voice, hana felt like there was something genuine underlying there. she hopes heejin could notice it too.
her shoulders finally relax once she hears her laugh, and hana can’t help but let out something of a hum of a laugh back. “at least after that incident went viral, they didn’t use a bubble machine anymore. we truly are trendsetters.”
hana knows she should still be on, even while they wade through the crowd to grab some greasy snacks; just because she’s not on stage doesn’t mean there aren’t still fans looking at them, if the flashes from people’s phones show anything. but just this once, as she plays with the strings of her jacket to calm her steadily beating her, she wants some peace after a performance and she’s thankful it seems like the fans who notice them are willing to give them that much.
“haah? calling Leader Privilege on a donut doesn’t seem fair.” she says that, despite the evident pout on her face. it goes away once heejin jokes with her again, opening her mouth to let her have it only to blink in surprise when she concedes easily. “really? … well… okay. in that case, you can have the cheesiest corn dog i find.” the corners of her mouth upturn ever so slightly. “i'm serious, and i'm not taking no for an answer.”
“after we get our food though, we should find somewhere private to eat. it’s basically impossible for someone to lose us.” she peeks up at her two tone black and blonde hair (albeit, hidden underneath her hoodie), and the equally eye-catching orange hair heejin has had since hot promotions started.
heejin hums thoughtfully, a quiet little sound as she glances sideways at hana’s profile— the way she keeps her gaze forward, even when her voice gives her away. the honesty in it makes something settle soft in her chest. “you’re right,” she says, a bit gentler now. “we are.”
it’s not loud. not something she says with fanfare or big gestures. but she means it. they’ve all been through enough to know what it feels like to fake it. this doesn’t feel fake.
her steps slow a little as they walk, enough to fall slightly behind hana, just for a second, as her eyes skim the petals crushed underfoot and the glow of camera flashes flickering like fireflies. maybe the world is still watching, but for once, it doesn’t feel suffocating.
“bubble machines are banned in this household,” she deadpans, keeping her voice low but conspiratorial, like she’s passing on a sacred decree. “next time it’ll be smoke or fireworks or who knows what. maybe they’ll just shoot us out of cannons.”
and then she grins. “i’d make it work. i’d land in a split.”
she doesn't need to push for more than hana’s giving— doesn’t press, doesn’t prod. instead, she just lets the moment stretch as they edge closer to the snack stall, the scent of sugar and oil hitting them full force. it's grounding. it always is. food after a stage, after a moment like this? it feels almost ritualistic.
“hey now,” she says, feigning offense as she holds up a hand, “don’t disrespect the sacred right of the leader donut. but,” she adds, more quietly, bumping her knuckles against hana’s jacket, “...i’ll share. only with you though. the rest of them can fight over leftovers.”
she doesn’t miss the subtle smile creeping onto hana’s face, and it makes her own widen.
“deal,” she says, not even pretending to argue. “but only if it’s the kind with that stretchy cheese. the kind that makes it look like we’re doing food CFs even when we’re just trying to eat.”
at hana’s last words, her eyes flick up toward the edges of her hair poking out from under her hoodie, and then toward the few onlookers in the crowd pretending not to stare. heejin makes a soft sound of agreement in her throat, nodding.
“yeah,” she says. “i know a spot. back behind the food stalls— i saw some empty benches earlier. it’s not completely private, but... it’s enough.” maybe.
a beat passes, quiet in the bustle of the festival, and she adds, tone teasing but fond: “but we’re still posting food pics later. no matter how private it is. leader privilege.”
and with that, she tugs lightly at hana’s sleeve, already steering her away from the light and toward something quieter — where maybe, for a minute or two, they can just be girls under pink trees with their snacks and a night that, finally, feels a little like their own.
i'm auditioning for a role in a musical, but i'm having a hard time hitting the high note in the callback song and i'm scared that if i practice too much, i'll lose my voice. ;___; any tips on how to take care of your voice while practicing so hard?
( •̀ᴗ•́ )و okay first of all: you’re not alone. second: stop murdering your vocal cords 🫠
warm up properly, hydrate before you feel dry, and don’t keep forcing the note over and over. if your voice is tired, all you're doing is teaching it to crack. rest is part of practice~
and if it helps: most people don’t land the role because they hit the note. they land it because they made someone feel something
now go drink some warm tea, stretch your neck, and show them what you've got!
(and break a leg. but... not literally. i don’t want that on my conscience) 🫡💗
i'm cooking for my friends next week and i'm a little nervous about making food for more people than just me... are there any recipes you like to make for your members that don't require much skill? what would you want to eat the most if you're going to a friend's place? please help me figure out my menu... 😖🍳🍚
hana, is this you? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
first of all, breathe🧘♀️
second, don’t try to be a hero. this is not the time to attempt a five course meal with hand pulled noodles unless you hate yourself
i usually go for kimchi fried rice (add cheese if you’re feeling bold- the answer is yes) or soft tofu stew with rice and sides~ both are easy, and you look impressive without actually doing much
if i’m going to a friend’s place, i’m just happy if the rice isn’t crunchy and no one tries to feed me something experimental
jk (unless you’re offering) usually it’s music, or zoning out with a book. but honestly? nothing clears my mind faster than aggressively organizing the room until jiho threatens to move out. it’s called self-care. 🧹🫧
hi, idols! as an apology for the pause in operations on the main and the lack of monthly schedules, we come bearing gifts... an ask meme! this isn't the honesty hour that was mentioned a while back (as that will be used as part of our next event), but we think it'll still be lots of fun. check under the cut for all the details!
✩ [조태준] message is here!
our second ask meme will be in the form of interactions on hi-u, midas labels' very own artist-to-fan communication app, and girl talk, the exclusive communication app for girl code. the following questions, inspired by questions that idols are commonly asked by fans online and during fansigns, must be answered with your muse's public image in mind. your muse's answers do not have to be honest, but they must remain appropriate. if you do choose to have your muse respond inappropriately, there will be in-character consequences. if you're willing to take that risk, you may, but we recommend running any potential inappropriate answers by us to know what the companies' reactions would be. the goal of this meme is to explore your muses' public images a bit further, and let other muns see how they interact with their fans.
you can send any of the below questions to any mun/muse that reblogs this post. you are more than welcome to send in your own custom questions, from the pov of that muse's fan (or an antifan). we do encourage avoiding sending any questions that could be deemed too inappropriate, but many idols do experience hate and inappropriate or intrusive questions on these platforms, so you're welcome to also send in questions in that vein (as long as the mun you are sending it to is okay with it).
would you rather have five [group member] or a five-year-old [group member]?
would you rather date [group member] or [group member]?
which member do you spend the most time with lately?
how would you rank your group members based on visuals?
how would you rank your group members based on personality?
what's your favorite thing about your group?
what do you like about the company?
what's your favorite thing about yourself?
who do you look up to the most?
do you have any friends in the industry?
what variety show would you like to go on the most?
what does your dream comeback look like?
how should i ask out the person i like?
can you recommend me a song?
can you recommend me a movie?
what app do you use the most lately?
do you have any new hobbies?
how do you destress?
where do you want to travel to next?
what's the first thing you think of when you think of your fans?
can you share your personal scent?
what do you want for your birthday?
if you could spend one day with your fans, what would you want to do?
what's the key to your heart?
what's your most prized possession?
what's your ideal type?
what's your favorite season and why?
today's TMI?
tell us something about your trainee days!
tell us a story from your childhood!
who's your [group name] bias?
what girl group do you like lately?
what boy group do you like lately?
✩ are you their manager?
nowadays, it's getting easier and easier to find an idol's manager or stylist on social media... and we know fans can be a bit intrusive! staff members may also reblog this post, and muns may send them any of the above questions (that are applicable, of course), a custom question of their own (whether a genuine question or an intrusive comment by a fan), and/or any of the below questions. we recommend that staff muses reply to these questions as if they're really replying to a fan on social media, but if your staff member would not have a public sns account, you may answer these honestly as if they were speaking to a friend.
what's the hardest thing about your job?
what's your favorite comeback from [artist/group]?
what's your favorite thing about [artist/group]?
do you get along with your artist(s)?
what do you wish more people knew about [artist/group]?
what's one thing you'd change about your artist's career?
what's one thing you'd change about the company's policies?
do you have any regrets about your career?
do you think you get paid enough for everything you do?
if you could work with any other artist, who would you work with?
if you didn't work in the industry, what other job would you like to have?
what advice would you give to someone who wants to work in this industry?
while we are not currently accepting submissions for voucher redemptions, we will be issuing out one standard item voucher for every 3 questions answered for a total of three standard item vouchers per muse, but you may answer as many questions as you'd like. make sure you send out questions to everyone who reblogged this post. if you have not sent out questions to at least 3 different muns, you will not be able to collect your item vouchers. make sure to take your answers with #midas:meme002, and we'll announce when our submit is back open. you may reblog this post and send questions as soon as this post hits the dash. this meme will run until may 1st. happy answering!
there are things she knows about herself with absolute certainty.
things like: she prefers honey over sugar. that she cries more easily over movies than real life. that she sleeps better when it rains.
that she’ll always, always be the one to reach for her phone and send a message first, even when she shouldn’t.
and for a long time, she thought she knew her hair.
it’s a dumb thing, probably, to get so caught up in. in the grand scheme of girl code’s image—a mix of influencer glamour, choreographed charm, and corporate polish—hair is just polish. hair is just another detail. a tool. a finishing touch.
but for heejin, it’s always been the last thing she clings to when the world feels like it’s slipping sideways.
black hair meant normal.
brown hair meant steady.
long hair, short hair, curled or sleek—whatever the style, it still felt like hers as long as the color stayed safe. unchanged. untouched.
but now, looking at her reflection, she barely recognizes the girl staring back at her.
not in a bad way, necessarily.
but not in a good one either.
the orange wasn’t her idea. it never is, not really.
midas stylists had tossed a few mockups on the table in early march, mid-way through reality show filming and deep into comeback prep.
“let’s lean into the energy of the title track,” they’d said, holding up inspiration boards that pulsed with reds and tangerines and golds.
hot wasn’t a subtle song—it was all swagger and sweat and performance—and heejin had nodded through the pitch, lips pressed into a practiced smile, even when something about it made her want to shrink back.
she hadn’t said no.
not when it was easier to go along with the plan, not when the comeback was finally getting traction, not when the other girls were fighting to move on from last year’s scandal and all the weight of surviving it.
she told herself it was just hair. told herself it wouldn’t matter.
but of course it matters.
she remembers the day they dyed it.
the stylist’s gloves tugging through her roots, the sharp scent of bleach burning at her nose, the way her scalp prickled with nerves more than pain.
she sat still the whole time, hands folded in her lap, knuckles white.
it’s just hair, she reminded herself.
people change their hair all the time.
but when the cape came off and the mirror was turned around, her heart stuttered.
the orange was loud. vibrant.
it made her feel like she was wearing a neon sign over her head, like every ounce of her had been turned inside out for the world to see.
and maybe that was the point.
maybe that was what the company wanted—visibility, virality, a little shock factor.
peachee, but turned up to eleven.
and the fans?
they loved it.
or, well—most of them did.
fancams in tweet threads with captions like “she’s not even trying and she’s still That Girl” or “orange era heejin is a cultural reset.”
the most-liked comment under one post reads, “someone get the stylist a raise. this hair color on her?? she looks unreal.”
she still hasn’t decided if she agrees.
she never imagined her entire identity could shift because of a styling choice.
and yet… when she passes by the practice room mirrors, she catches herself turning back. looking twice.
because the orange isn’t just loud. it’s warm. it’s something new.
maybe that’s okay.
maybe change doesn’t always mean compromise.
maybe this color—the brightness, the heat, the version of herself that shines just a little louder—can still hold pieces of who she really is.
the girl who practiced alone at midnight, the one who learned to smile when she didn’t want to, the one who carries her members’ weight without letting it show.
she runs her fingers through the ends of her hair, feeling how dry they are, how uneven the texture is now.
but her reflection doesn’t feel like a stranger anymore.
just someone she’s still learning how to be.
and maybe, for now, that’s enough.
even doltalk hasn’t been too harsh—for once.
but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
in private, when the makeup’s off and her head is sore from the ponytails and her hair smells faintly of bleach, she still isn’t sure how she feels.
she scrolls past an old photo of herself from debut—dark hair, soft makeup, a nervous smile—and feels something twist in her chest.
not regret, exactly.
but grief.
for how simple it all used to feel.
for the version of herself who thought talent would be enough.
for the girl who never imagined her entire identity could shift because of a styling choice.
⸻
(fan interaction — post-performance, early evening)
the sky is dipped in gold when it happens.
the kind of light that softens every sharp edge, turns even the busiest street corner into something hazy and cinematic.
the crowd around the lake is still buzzing from the performances, all flushed cheeks and trailing cherry blossom petals, the occasional scream of “remix stage daebak!!!” still echoing off the food stalls.
heejin’s not in uniform anymore—not technically. she’s still styled, still easily recognizable if you know what you’re looking for.
but she’s swapped her heels for white sneakers, pulled on a light pink zip-up hoodie over her dress, a plain mask over her mouth.
peachee in low power mode.
she’s making her way toward the market area, fingers wrapped around a cup of honey ginger tea she was craving all day, when she hears it.
“unnie?”
it’s quiet. tentative.
like the girl behind her didn’t mean to say it out loud.
heejin turns around anyway.
there’s a fan, maybe early twenties, holding a small gift bag and looking like she’s two seconds away from bolting.
she’s wearing a girl code pin on her bag strap and a peachee phone strap dangles from her case.
“oh! hi,” heejin says, voice soft, instinctively tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“you’re really sweet for saying something.”
the fan doesn’t scream. doesn’t shove a phone in her face.
she just steps forward, eyes wide with something too tender to be anything but genuine.
“i just— i wanted to say you were amazing today. the orange hair is… really pretty. and i know it probably doesn’t mean much, but… i’ve followed you since predebut. like, the instagram days.”
heejin blinks, caught off guard.
her fingers tighten a little on the tea cup.
“you helped me a lot,” the fan continues, cheeks burning now. “not directly, obviously, but… just. seeing someone work so hard, and still be kind, even when things were tough. it made me feel like i could keep going too. so… thank you.”
something about the way she says it—the way she means it—makes heejin pause.
makes her chest tighten.
she always tells herself she doesn’t need validation.
that she does this for the music, for her members.
that praise isn’t why she’s here.
but maybe, sometimes, it helps to hear it anyway.
“…thank you,” she says again, and it sounds more real this time.
“really. you have no idea how much that means.”
she takes the little gift bag with both hands.
it’s light. inside, there’s a roll of washi tape, a chamomile tea sachet, and a handwritten note sealed with a pink sticker.
“do you want a photo?” heejin asks.
the fan shakes her head.
“no, it’s okay. i just wanted to tell you that.”
and with a wave and a shy smile, she’s gone—
disappearing back into the sea of pink blossoms and streetlights like she was never there at all.
but heejin stands still for a second longer, clutching the tea and the gift bag like they’re anchor points.
when she finally turns back toward the market, she’s smiling.
the quiet kind.
the one that sticks.
⸻
later that night, back at the dorm, she peels off her lashes and washes away the shimmer from her cheeks, lets her hair down and combs her fingers through it—carefully, gently, because the bleach has made it finicky, temperamental. she towels it halfway dry, pulls on one of her older t-shirts, the neckline stretched out and soft from too many nights of sleep, and finally sits cross-legged on the floor by her bed with her journal open in her lap.
the little gift bag sits beside her.
the chamomile sachet goes on her nightstand for later.
the note gets tucked carefully behind a polaroid on one of the back pages—she’ll read it again tomorrow, and the day after that.
and the washi tape? it’s pink with tiny peaches scattered across the roll like confetti.
she smiles to herself as she rips off a piece and smooths it down over the top edge of the page. the journal entry is short, mostly messy handwriting and uneven lines, but the tape makes it feel intentional. something real.
she doesn’t write about the hair.
not directly.
but she underlines the word warm three times, and that feels like enough.
after a moment’s hesitation, she snaps a photo of the page. just the edge, mostly tape and shadows and a bit of handwriting in the corner.
then she opens the girl talk app and posts it with a single caption:
“today felt good.”
tag: #peachee
and when the first few replies come in—“we’re so proud of you”, “you were amazing today”, “orange era supremacy fr”—she lets herself read them all. doesn’t scroll past or click away.
with how worried jiho was before their comeback, she's admittedly pretty calm with the results. hot hasn't flopped like she had feared—no, it was actually doing pretty well.
she can't hide the smile that creeps up on her face as she stares out the window as they approach seokchon lake for the festival. while she never got scared of performing in front of people, she had to admit that sometimes, just sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if there was somebody in the crowd that may have left a hate comment about them back when that was a regular thing to do.
turning her head at her leader's voice, she gave her a firm nod. "totally fine," jiho says and she actually means it. "maybe they just want to see your pretty smile." with that, she leaned over to bring up the corners of heejin's lips before plastering a wide grin on her face as well.
jiho lets out a faux dramatic gasp as hands fly all around them. staff members are trying to get some last minute fixes in to their makeup and outfits while the soundcrew is checking their mic packs. "two? you spoil me too much," she stated with a chuckle.
"deal. we're going to absolutely rock this performance." she understands why heejin's trying to hard to assure that jiho's feeling well with all the concerns and worries she's poured out to her before this comeback. however, it's been proven that they won't be one-hit wonders, and that's enough for jiho to be confident that they'll definitely get back up on their feet.
"can you throw in a cookie as well?" she asked with a teasing tone, blinking her eyes dramatically as if to show off her puppy dog eyes.
heejin doesn’t say anything right away—just watches jiho from the corner of her eye, her grin softening around the edges. she didn’t expect the “pretty smile” comment, but maybe she should’ve. jiho’s always had that knack for slipping in something unexpectedly sweet before she pretends she didn’t mean it.
“flattery before a festival,” she muses, tapping one manicured nail against her mic pack like she’s thinking it over. “i see you’re pulling out all the stops.” but her smile’s already blooming in full, no coaxing needed. she doesn’t say it, but it means something—to hear jiho sound genuinely okay. to see that nervous energy finally smooth out into something steadier.
she swats gently at the air near jiho’s shoulder as the other lets out her dramatic gasp. “yeah, well. you deserve two cookies. but don’t let it go to your head,” she warns, even as she’s clearly amused. “you pull that pouty look one more time and i might toss in a whole bakery. we can’t have that.”
they’re surrounded by noise—muffled commands, static checks, the hum of excitement rising just outside—but she blocks it all out for a second, tipping her head toward jiho, voice quieter now. “you’re right. we are going to rock this. no one-hit wonder shit, okay?” she taps her knuckles once lightly against jiho’s knee. “you’re solid. you’ve always been solid. i think the crowd’s gonna know that by the end of tonight.”
a beat passes, then she adds, “…but if you do mess up, i’m blaming it on the cookie. too many thoughts of sugar, too much chaos.”
she stands with a little bounce in her step, offering her hand like she’s about to drag jiho into battle. “c’mon. let’s go make the cherry blossoms proud.”
jieun’s laugh is barely a sound. it's more a breath through her nose, paired with a little lift at the corner of her mouth. but it’s there. she's warm in that way that only happens after a stage when the lights fade and everything starts to feel real again.
"only once?" she teases, bumping her shoulder into heejin’s in return. "that means you’re getting better." her steps are still light, like her body hasn’t realized it’s allowed to rest now. that's not too surprising for someone who spends so much of her spare time practicing, rehearsing, chasing perfection like it's instinct. but her heart? it’s flying, still spinning from the rush of it all. and walking beside heejin, snack in hand, petals in the air? it feels almost too perfect, like a scene pulled from a dream.
and then comes the compliment. it's casual, but jieun's in too good of a mood to treat it as such. she doesn’t say thanks. doesn’t really know how to without her voice cracking a little or sounding too serious at the moment. instead, she shifts the hotteok in her hands, thumb brushing over the warm paper, and lets her gaze drops for just a second. there's always been this quiet understanding between them. because of that, the words hang there, light but sincere, and jieun can feel them settling somewhere just under her ribs.
if she lets herself respond, she knows she’ll get weird about it. say something too earnest and revealing. something like 'i don't think i’d feel proud of myself no matter how much i work i put in, but i trust you,' or 'i think i only pushed through because i knew you would be.'
and she could say those things, but her throat tightens and her stomach flips just imagining it. so instead, she takes a bite of her hotteok. a small one. a clear attempt to stall and give herself something to focus on instead of her feelings. the filling’s still warm, but she barely notices. her eyes stay fixed ahead, a faint pink coloring the tips of her ears—cheeks too, probably. jieun shoots a quick glance sideways, her smile turning a little crooked. "i’ll be doing the journal thing then. in glitter pen too. makes it very official."
her gaze drifts to the stalls ahead, bright with endless possibilities. "definitely something pink," she decides. "the messier the better. i want us to regret it halfway through and finish it anyway, because that's just how we are." jieun glances at heejin out of the corner of her eye, smile slowly growing. "we’ll pretend we were responsible the whole time when we go back."
“glitter pen,” heejin repeats, like she’s tasting the words. “as you should. we’re women of culture.”
there’s something a little smug about her grin—because she sees it, all of it. the shy glance, the way jieun’s voice skips over the compliment like it’s too hot to touch. but that’s fine. they’ve been doing this long enough to know when not to press. and really, heejin isn’t trying to ruin a perfectly good sugar high with a heartfelt breakdown.
(though if jieun had said any of the things she didn’t say just now—heejin probably would’ve cried and then made it her life’s mission to buy every glitter pen in korea.)
instead, she lets them walk in companionable silence for a few steps, the night air soft around them, cherry blossom petals drifting down like they’re in some kind of music show ending fairy tale. the moment doesn’t last long, of course—not with the smell of something suspiciously fried tugging at her senses.
jieun says pink, and heejin’s already veering toward a stall she knows is a bad idea.
“that one,” she says, pointing toward what looks like… deep-fried strawberry milk ice cream wrapped in cotton candy and drizzled with hot pink syrup. there are edible glitter flakes and a single gummy bear stuck right in the middle like a crown.
“i want it to rot my teeth on sight,” she declares. “if it doesn’t give me instant regret, i don’t want it.”
she glances sideways, voice dropping into a faux-serious whisper. “also, i kind of want to see you try to eat it without getting glitter on your nose.”
they're next in line now, and she turns to jieun with mock solemnity, clasping her shoulder like she’s about to send her into war. “no going back now. we’re already halfway into the sugar spiral. we’ll just... do damage control later. eat some protein. drink some hot tea. pretend we didn’t each consume three separate types of processed pink.”
she squints at another stall a few feet down. “...do you think they’re actually selling marshmallow tteokbokki or did i hallucinate that just now?”
