You've never been much of an "alpha male", and frankly, you're fine with that. Your childhood is a classic tale: always last picked in school sports, struggled to make many guy friends, called every homophobic slur under the sun just for having basic hygiene. Despite it all, you ended up in an alright place—a quiet and unassuming existence.
Then, you met Kazuha, and your quiet and unassuming existence turned upside down.
"He ordered the chicken sandwich, not the burger," she scolds, dropping the tray of food onto the counter with enough force to send a couple fries flying.
You meekly tug her sleeve. "It's fine, really—"
"Hush, baby." In an instant, she shuts you up with a quick glance with those piercing eyes. "Let momma handle this."
"I'm so sorry, ma'am," the cashier says with his squeaky, prepubescent voice. "I'll have the kitchen put a rush on his chicken sandwich right away. Uh, may I interest you in a free dessert for your troubles?"
Kazuha turns to you, patiently waiting for your answer.
"Uh, I guess a vanilla milkshake wouldn't be so bad—"
"Vanilla milkshake," she repeats, leaning against the counter. "And no cherries. My boyfriend doesn't like cherries."
The cashier gulps, his Adam's apple practically disappearing in sheer terror. "U-uh, yes ma'am. No cherries. Understood."
"Good." Kazuha shoots him one final glare before taking your hand and leading you back to your booth.
"You didn't have to do that," you mutter. "I would've been fine with the burger."
She slinks into the seat across from you with a huff. "It's not what you ordered though. And I know how much you like the chicken sandwich at this place."
You shrug. "The burger isn't that bad."
"Then why didn't you order the burger?" She raises her brow in that "I'm right and you know it" kinda way that you're all too familiar with.
"Well…"
Kazuha reaches across the table and lifts up your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "Repeat after me: Thank you for fixing my order, Kazuha. You're the best," she says in a high-pitched voice.
You chuckle softly. "I don't sound like that."
"Say it."
"Thank you for—"
"Do it in the voice."
"Wha—I'm not gonna do t—"
"Do it!"
Her outburst attracts some unwanted attention from other tables, making you shrink in your seat. "Kazuha, people are looking…"
Her lips curl into that smirk—the one that never fails to make your heart do a somersault even after eight months of dating. "Aw, sorry," she brushes her thumb against your bottom lip, "did I embarrass you, baby?"
"W-whatever." You pull away before you do something that'll get both of you kicked out for overt PDA. "Thanks for fixing my order. You're the best," you utter flatly.
Kazuha sits back, arms behind her head and chin held high like those cool kids in old movies. "I know. I'm pretty fuckin' sick."
"And humble too."
The cashier from earlier drops off your food, making an effort to avoid looking Kazuha in the eye. "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you two?" he asks.
Kazuha looks over at you for an answer. "No, thank you," you say. You swear you see him breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he walks away. Poor guy.
"I feel bad," you unwrap your chicken sandwich, the one you ordered initially. "He's probably got enough things going on without us giving him grief."
"Relax babe, we're doing him a favor. Now he knows not to mess up people's orders," she points out, coolly tossing a fry into her mouth.
"Still," you linger on the flakes of salt on her lip for a second too long, "you know how badly service people are treated on the daily. I don't wanna add to that."
"Then don't. I'll do it for you," she smirks.
"Kazuha, that's not funny."
"What, I didn't laugh."
"Yeah, but you're smiling."
"I'm smiling because you're cute."
You bite your tongue, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a grin. Unknowingly or not, she sets her food to the side and leans forward, eyeing you like a piece of art.
"Ugh, I hate when you do that," you mutter.
"Do what? I'm just lookin' at ya." Her eyes trace over your lips, and you wonder if she'll like the taste of that new chapstick you just bought.
"I'm trying to eat."
"Am I disturbing your eating?" You feel her foot press against your calf, drawing slow lines with the toe of her boot.
Trying to win against Kazuha is a sisyphean task. She does what she wants, and you follow her around like a loyal puppy. Behave well enough, she'll give you a treat—and just like any puppy, you like your treats.
"Not here, at least," you pout. "I haven't had a single thing to eat all day."
"Aww." She gives you one last drag against your leg before settling back into her seat. "Okay, I'll let you eat."
"Thank you."
Even then, you find your foot gently rubbing against hers as you eat. You can act annoyed all you want, but face it: you're completely smitten with Kazuha.
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"Baby?" Kazuha grabs a leather jacket off of the rack and holds it up to her torso. "What do you think?"
"I think," you sigh, "you have way too many leather jackets."
"What's wrong with that? I'm a collector."
"That looks exactly like the one you bought last week." You take a closer look at the oddly familiar looking tag. "I'm pretty sure that is the exact same one."
"Oh." She takes one last look at it before putting it back. "See, this is why I like having you around. I've probably saved, like, a billion dollars thanks to you."
"Whatever," you chuckle, linking your arm with hers. It's just common sense, you think, but the warmth of her compliment is leagues better than being right.
The two of you pass by racks and racks full of the new wave of summer trends. Personally, you've always been a fan of the fall—cardigans, sweaters, the ability to wear jeans without your legs feeling like tinfoil-wrapped burritos. You and summer are just a match made in Hell. Inevitably, it comes around to torment you for three months out of the year and you're forced to scramble for a wardrobe that won't burn you alive.
"See anything you like?" Kazuha asks.
You scan the men's section, grimacing at the typical suspects that plague the shelves—tank tops, cargo shorts, ugly graphic tees with abominations like "summer vibes" written all over them. "Not really."
"You sure?" She grabs a simple black tank top off the rack. "This one seems pretty nice."
You physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Something like that would only look good on her, with her pretty arms that are deceptively strong, and when she flexes, you can see the shadows dance around her biceps, which reminds you of that one time she put you in a chokehold as a joke and you could feel her muscles pushing against your throat, and you were so mesmerized by the feeling that you forgot to fight back, and—
"Baby?" Kazuha shakes you out of your trance. "You okay?" she chuckles.
"I-I'm good." You wipe away the droplet of drool that almost leaked from your lips. "Let's keep looking."
Deeper and deeper through the men's section you go, yet nothing seems to tickle your fancy. Go figure. You knew looking for clothes this time of year would be futile, but Kazuha wanted to hang out and you already said yes before realizing how much of a waste of time this would amount to.
"Ugh, these all suck," you groan.
"Maybe we'd have found something by now if you weren't so picky," Kazuha points out, brow raised at you.
"Not all of us were born to look good in just about anything," you bite back with a cheesy grin. "Some of us have to put effort into looking nice."
"Hey, don't blame me for being sexy." She drapes her arm around your shoulders, and for a split second, you think she's going to put you into another chokehold. So close. "I don't want you overheating just because you're being stubborn, baby."
"I'm not being stubborn, I just—"
You glance over at the women's section and stop at one of the mannequins. It's wearing a simple outfit, fitting for the weather, but what catches your eyes is the skirt—floor length and ruffled, made of a pure white cotton that seems to dance, even on the still mannequin.
For one reason or another, you can't take your eyes off of it. It wouldn't be too hard to fit into your current wardrobe, and it's a much nicer alternative to the dull beige of all the cargo shorts that seems to infect every corner of the men's options. But, it's just—you're a guy, and Kazuha, well—you already wonder why she even likes you, and—
Kazuha follows your gaze. "Are you getting the hots for the mannequin?" she teases.
"W-what? No, I just—maybe we can find somewhere else to—"
She grips your hand before you have a chance to escape. "Hey, be honest with me." Her voice turns softer, more sincere compared to her usual mischief. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, I—" You peer into her round eyes. They're void of any kind of judgment or disgust, the usual reaction you expect when girls you're interested learn of your 'peculiar tastes'. "I just thought the skirt was pretty. That's all."
"Pretty on me, or pretty on you?"
"Well, of course you'd look pretty in it—"
"Hey." She tilts your chin up, the tip of her thumb pressing your bottom lip. You practically sink into her touch. Never have you felt a presence safer than Kazuha's.
"I… wanna try it on," you admit shyly. "Is that okay?"
She bares her pretty white teeth at you before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. "Of course you can, baby. You don't need my permission to wear whatever you want."
Heat creeps up your cheeks like lava bubbling to the top of a volcano. "Thanks," you utter, biting back your excitement at the thought of looking pretty.
The second your staring at your reflection in the dressing room mirror, the ruffled skirt in your hands, it all starts to feel a little too real. Your first ever skirt. The thought has crossed your mind a handful of times before, but you never thought you'd actually get to this point. If it weren't for Kazuha and her charming eyes, this moment would just be another figment of your imagination.
You take a deep breath, and you put it on—it fits. Your reflection doesn't look half bad either. The breeze between your legs will take some getting used to, and you'll need to be wary of what color underwear you wear with these, but for now, you're just in awe of how good it looks. How good you look.
You do a little twirl for fun, giggling at the way the dress flows like petals on a blooming flower. Kazuha knocks against the dressing room door. "Did you try it on yet? I wanna see."
"Yeah! Come in."
As soon as Kazuha sees you, her expression drops. In that moment, worry starts to creep into your mind.
Does she not like it?
Does she not like you?
Will she leave just like the rest of them?
All your anxieties are laid to rest as Kazuha envelops you into a tight squeeze. "Holy fuck, my boyfriend is so pretty," she breathes, rocking you back and forth in her arms. You immerse yourself in her warmth, the kind of warmth that steadies your heart and quiets your mind; the kind you want to feel every day until you die.
"Does that mean you like it?" you ask.
"I love it," she says, pecking your lips. "I'm totally buying you every single color they have."
You chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Maybe we can just stick to this one for now? Until I get used to it, at least."
"That's fine with me." Her lips find yours once again, this one a little longer, a little more tender. "It really suits you, baby."
This kiss leaves you wobbly-kneed and blubbering, reduced to a puddle of lovestruck goop in her arms. Her strong, toned arms that you somehow fit perfectly in between.
"Let's hurry up and pay for it so I can take it off you later tonight," she winks, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to feel like the luckiest boy on the planet.
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The two of you kick off your shoes by the front door of your apartment, tossing the shopping bags haphazardly on your coffee table. Those will be for future you to deal with; right now, your feet are dead from all the walking and your body is in desperate need of a bed to collapse on.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Kazuha urges, dragging you to your bedroom. In there, she collapses back onto your bed, arms above her head and her eyes staring you down like a hawk to a little mouse. "Hurry up and take me, pretty boy."
"O-oh." You gulp. "You mean, like, right now? Um—"
"What's that?" Kazuha asks, a smirk growing on her lips. On your usually tidy desk, a small pile of crumpled tissues sits next to your closed laptop, and the memory of what you did last night hits you all at once.
"W-wait, it's not what it looks like—!"
"You little freak!" Before you have a chance to explain yourself, Kazuha jumps to her feet, grabbing at your laptop with the cunning of a fox. "Ooh, let's see what kind of perversions you were watching!"
"Kazuha, don't—"
She flips open your laptop, and on the screen lies a still of the last scene you had watched—a boy with cerebral palsy and his grandma overlooking the edge of a mountain.
"What?" Kazuha asks. "Where's the porn?"
"I wasn't watching porn," you sigh in embarrassment, "I was watching a movie."
She gasps. "An adult movie?!"
"No!"
Kazuha falls into a fit of giggles. Real mature of her.
"I was watching a… sad movie." You point at the pile of tissues. "I was crying…"
"Aw." She holds your head to her chest, kissing the top of your scalp. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make of fun of you for crying."
"It's fine." It's impossible to be upset with her when she feels this nice.
"Was it good? Can I watch it with you?"
"You want to? What about the whole, um, 'taking you' thing?"
She chuckles softly. "Maybe some other time. Walking around all day has got me feeling lazy." Kazuha crawls into your bed, cozying up under your covers. "C'mon, I wanna watch!"
You relent, following her onto your bed. "I might cry again."
"That's okay," she wraps you in her embrace, "mama's here."
You drag the little red dot all the way to the beginning and hit play, safe and sound in her arms.
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"Grandma?" Chunhe utters, cradling the box of his beloved cat's ashes in his arms.
"Hmm?" she replies.
"After you take me to school, I'll buy you a meal at the cafeteria."
His grandma smiles at him. "All right."
"And then," Chunhe continues, "Buy yourself a train ticket and go wherever you want. Go look around. Go have some fun. Let me walk the rest of my path my way. All right?"
His words may be slow or clumsy, but his sincerity cuts through like the sharpest blade, and his grandma knows this. No more is Chunhe the helpless little boy he once was; now, he stands tall against the prejudice that the world throws at him.
Even after knowing how it ends, it doesn't get easier the second time around.
She holds you to her chest, letting you sob your little heart out for what feels like forever. For every tear that falls, Kazuha is there with a brush of her thumb or a comforting kiss to pick up all the broken pieces that the movie left you in.
It feels unfair, undeserved, you think, to know such tenderness like it's home. In the original script, the roles would be reversed—Kazuha sobbing into your arms while you comfort her.
But they aren't. And even in this tenderness that you cherish so deeply, inklings of insecurities that you've long held still manage to seep through.
"Can I ask you something?" you say, wiping away at the last of your tears.
"What is it, baby?"
You breathe, slowly. "Why do you… why do you like me?"
She leans into you, the soft weight of her cheek resting on your head. "Hmm… Well, other guys just suck," Kazuha answers simply.
"Don't you ever wish I was more, uh, 'manlier' or something?"
"Hell no," she grimaces. "Those kinds of guys are the worst. I say one funny thing and they're all like 'Damn, your energy is different, for real!' and it's so annoying! I just have a personality!"
Kazuha holds you tighter, and it becomes clear just how much she wants you over any other guy. "Besides, I like my boys on the softer side." She kisses your damp cheek. "It means they have a soul."
The two of you share a chuckle, holding each other underneath the covers until the fatigue of today catches up to both of you. Your insecurities quelled, body warm, and heart undeniably owned by this miracle of a woman; for the first time in your quiet and unassuming existence, you feel like you're right where you belong—wrapped up in Kazuha's arms.
Like a cliche, gray clouds gather in the sky, promising a downpour on a day like this—the day I hit lower than rock bottom. The only silver lining I can find in all this shit is finally being able to see Minji after what feels like forever. I just wish her parents weren’t also here.
“Here,” Mrs. Kim says, sliding a paper cup of water and a wrapped pastry towards me. “You should eat.”
The coffee shop, in all its efforts to appear lively and casual, just feels like another wing of the hospital—quiet, heavy, and full of people barely holding on. I take the flimsy paper cup and sip at the stale water. The pastry stays untouched. I'm not sure I can stomach it right now.
“Thank you,” I utter, not quite meeting their eyes. The usual disdain in them doesn’t feel as strong today.
Minji fidgets with her hands under the table. Everything that happened after she found me in the hallway went by in a blur. Part of me still can't believe that it's really her. The other part of me wishes she didn't find me in such a sorry state.
Mr. Kim clears his throat. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” I stare into the empty paper cup, rolling it idly in my hand. “It’s my dad. He…” My voice gets caught in my throat. I grit my teeth in an effort to compose myself. “...He’s sick."
A beat of silence passes as my words slowly sink in. “We’re sorry to hear that. Truly,” Mr. Kim offers.
I just nod, unsure of what to say. A heartfelt apology feels so foreign, especially coming from him.
“How is his condition?” he asks.
“Stable, I think,” I mutter. “He’s breathing.”
“Breathing is good,” Minji utters, her voice so soft I almost miss it. She opens her mouth like she wants to say more, but decides against it in the end. As small as they are, those words mean more than anything.
Mrs. Kim slides the untouched pastry closer to me. “You need to eat something if you’re going to be there for your father,” she says, not unkindly.
I glance at her with uncertainty. The lack of iciness in them feels especially jarring. Nonetheless, I take the pastry, offering a small yet grateful nod.
“We should get going,” Mr. Kim says as he glances at his watch. As Minji’s parents head towards the exit, Minji’s lips quiver as if she wants to say something.
“U-um,” she stutters, “Father, may I—”
“I’ll bring the car around,” he says, wearing an expression I can’t quite read. “It looks like it’s about to rain.”
“Don’t take too long, dear,” Mrs. Kim adds, sparing us a brief glance.
Minji lets out a long exhale as her parents exit, leaving the two of us alone to speak. There’s so many things I want to say to her, yet so little time.
The first thing that comes out is a small, “Thank you.”
She lets her lips lilt into a gentle smile, the mask she wears in front of her parents melting away. “I haven’t even done anything,” she says.
“You’re here.” I let out a short breath. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t found me.”
Minji’s eyes turn glassy as they peer into mine. “I’m sorry about everything. You don’t deserve any of this.” She leans forward a bit, her expression growing stern. “And you better not say you do, because you don’t.”
I can’t help but smile at her remark. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Good.” Her eyes soften and I get lost in them like a maze I don’t want to escape. The last time I was able to stare at them like this feels like a lifetime ago.
“How are you holding up?” she asks. “Every time I see you, you seem so… tired.”
I sigh, my body sinking into the chair. “I am,” I admit. It’s been forever since I’ve been able to properly eat or sleep. My sanity is holding on by a thread and I can barely control what's left of me these days.
Minji tentatively reaches out, interlocking her fingers with mine. Every muscle in my body loosens as our palms mold against each other like puzzle pieces. Who knew a touch could be so gentle?
“I… don’t know what this means,” I utter, staring at our intertwined hands. “But I want to know.”
Minji’s lips quiver with hesitation. I wonder if that was the correct thing to say. Was it too soon? Should I have just kept my mouth shut? Before I can linger on the thought for any longer, a black car rolls up to the front of the coffee shop. From outside, Mrs. Kim waves at Minji to leave.
Both of us jolt our hands back in fear of being caught. Why does this have to feel illegal? Why is it so hard just to hold her hand?
“I have to go. I’m sorry,” Minji mutters, a sigh drawing from her lips. “I really, really, really want to talk more, but…” Her gaze falls to the ground.
“It’s fine,” I breathe. The words feel bitter on my tongue. “You should go.”
Minji reluctantly trudges towards the exit, looking back just one more time. I can see it in her eyes, all the things she wants to say dancing at the tip of her tongue. It feels comforting in a way, knowing that I’m not the only one who feels like this.
“Bye, Yuno.”
“Bye, Minji.”
I watch her car leave until it's nothing but a black dot in the distance. Once again, I'm alone.
I sink into the chair, the weight of everything pulling me down. But, for a single fleeting moment, resting in Minji’s palm, I felt like I could finally breathe. Like fate threw me a damn bone for once.
The unopened pastry sits idle in front of me. Tentatively, I tear open the plastic wrapping and bring it to my lips. It tastes… stale and cold—but it’s enough. Enough to make me realize that, despite it all, I have to keep going. Too much is at stake if I give up now. And I’m not ready to say goodbye to the people around me, the ones that saw a reason to stay that I haven’t been able to find in myself.
So, I force myself to chew through the tough pastry. Because I need to eat something if I plan on moving forward.
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The brief talk I had with Minji yesterday didn’t change much. It didn’t magically make my dad recover overnight. It didn’t erase Sunghoon from existence. But at the very least, it made me feel a little lighter. The problems I’m facing are my own, but I have people around me now—people that care enough to make my burdens more bearable.
And right now, there's two people that I've been pushing away for far too long.
My footsteps echo throughout the empty hallways as I walk towards my locker. I’m never at school this early, but I need a second to breathe before I face Yujin and Winter. I’ve been a shitty friend to them these past few days, stumbling around like a zombie while pretending that everything’s fine. Yujin’s constant worry, my outburst against Winter, I need to apologize for all of it.
“Hey.” I hear Yujin’s voice approach me from the end of the hallway. Winter trails behind him, like she’s bracing for another outburst. “We got your text. You wanted to talk?”
My gaze falls to the ground, unable to meet their eyes. “Hey. Yeah, just… sorry. For everything.” I suck a breath in through my teeth and release it back into the air.
The air between me and them is silent and distant. Maybe I really have fucked things up for good. “When shit hits the fan, I shut down,” I continue, fist balled inside my pocket. “Don’t talk for days, sometimes weeks if it’s that bad. It happened back then when… when my mom died.” I feel the words tangle up in my throat, threatening to choke me, but they need to know the whole truth. They need to know why I am the way I am. Why I’m so bad at shit like this. If I’m gonna be better—for them, for Minji—they need to know the truth.
“Back then, it didn’t matter. There was no one around me I could talk to. Everyone knew me as the shy kid with no friends, so on the outside, I seemed fine. My dad did the same. I would always find him staring at pictures of mom. He wouldn’t cry, just… stare. Like if he stared long enough, she’d step out of the frame and everything would turn back to normal.”
The first few nights after mom died were the worst. When the news finally hit that she succumbed to her injuries, dad and I both shut down. We were all we had left, but neither of us could bring ourselves to talk about her openly. The house we had lived in our whole lives felt so hollow without her. She was in everything—the couch she fell asleep on during movie nights, the kitchen that was filled with the smell of her cooking, the hallways lined with memories that I’m still grieving.
A shaky breath brushes past my lips as I fight to hold back the tears. “Before you guys, I had no one. Once dad got a hold of alcohol, there wasn’t a single person I could talk to about any of this. And I was fine with that. Or, at least I thought I was.” My nails dig into my palm, a desperate attempt at keeping myself together.
“It’s why I got into so many fights—there’s no space to think about anything else when your life's on the line. Over time, my reputation grew into what it is today. People avoided me, like saying the wrong thing would make them my next target, and I continued on like this because I had no fucking clue what else to do.”
I let out a long sigh, the weight of everything I’ve kept inside finally lifting off of my shoulders. Even as the ghosts of my past claw at my chest, a sense of relief washes over me. Like I can finally breathe again. “This isn’t an excuse for the way I’ve been acting, I just… thought you guys should know.”
Before I even have a chance to think, I feel two pairs of arms wrap around me tightly.
“Dude…” Yujin says, his voice a mere whisper against my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Winter adds gently, squeezing my shoulder. “No one deserves to carry all that alone.”
I open my mouth, ready to brush off their comments with an “I’m fine” or an “It’s not a big deal”. But instead, I say, “Thank you. For being here.”
I pull them close, careful not to crush them in my arms. The three of us stay like that for a while, not caring about the weird looks from students passing by. When we finally let go of each other, something in me feels different. Lighter. Like I’m truly not alone anymore.
Yujin looks at me, brows knit together. “So, what happened that made you shut down like this?” he asks.
I explain everything—the banquet, the kiss, Sunghoon, Minji’s parents, and what happened with my dad. The entire time, they just listen, letting me pour out everything that’s been keeping me down. It really does feel good to have friends.
“Wow…” Yujin sighs. “I knew something was off, but I didn’t know it was this bad. Why didn’t you tell us all this earlier? We could’ve done something to help you.”
“I don’t know,” I utter regretfully. “I didn’t want to burden you guys with all this shit.”
“You’re not a burden, you’re our friend,” Winter says softly.
“Thanks.” I look her in the eye. “And sorry for my outburst yesterday. You didn’t deserve that.”
Her lips curl into a small smile. “It’s okay. It was… scary, but I know you. We both do. And we know you wouldn’t hurt us unless you were hurting yourself.”
I truly don’t deserve these two.
“Oh!” Yujin exclaims suddenly, pointing at my face. “Are you crying?”
“What, I’m not—” I brush my eye, tear droplets rubbing off on my finger. Sniffling, I wipe them away, hoping that’s the last of them.
“Come here, man.” Yujin, arms outstretched, tries to hug me again, but I keep him away with my arm.
“Get off of me, I’m not crying—”
“—Don’t fight it, we’re here for you, bud—”
“—Yujin, I swear to fucking—”
“—C’mon, love me!”
The hallways begin to fill with chatter as the first period draws nearer. Winter giggles to herself, ignoring my pleas for help, while I try to keep an annoyingly persistent Yujin at arms reach. I should be annoyed, but for the first time in a while, I feel normal. Happy, even. Happy in a way that I haven’t felt in forever.
“Yuno.”
I whip my head around to see Principal Geier looking at us, holding a serious expression.
“Winter. Yujin. Good morning,” he greets with a nod.
“G-good morning, s-sir.”
“G’mornin!”
“I just need to borrow Yuno for a moment,” Geier says. “There’s some things we need to discuss.”
Winter and Yujin exchange uneasy looks, but I put a hand on their shoulders, squeezing them for reassurance. “I’ll be fine,” I tell them, and for once, I mean those words. “I’ll see you guys later.”
I shoot them a grin before following Geier along the familiar route to his office. Whatever he has to say, I’m ready for it. Fate be damned.
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“Sit,” Geier says, his tone gentler than usual. I expect him to bring up what happened with Sunghoon. Knowing that prick, he probably snitched to get me suspended or something.
“How are you doing these days?” he asks, catching me off guard with his sincerity. “I’ve noticed you’ve looked a bit down recently. Everything alright?”
“Uh…” I’m not about to dump all my emotional baggage on the principal of all people. “I’m doing better now,” I utter.
“Good, good,” he nods, hands folded on his desk. “Back there, are they your friends? Winter and Yujin?
I feel a smile creep up onto my face before I can stop it. “Yeah, they’re my… best friends.” The words sound foreign yet pleasant coming out of my mouth.
“Hey, that’s great to hear.” Geier grins at me, which freaks me out a bit. I’m much more used to the angry tomato he turns into than whatever this is. “It took a while, but you found your people.”
“Yeah, I guess… So, what is this about?” I ask, skepticism in my tone.
He scoffs, offended. “What, I can’t check up on my students? I’m the principal for pete’s sake, this is my job, Yuno.”
“Right.” I still can’t quite shake the feeling that something is off here.
“Look, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but if there’s anything you would like to discuss while you’re here, I’m happy to listen.” He leans forward in his chair like he’s half-expecting me to suddenly pour my heart out. I’d rather he just yell at me at this point.
“Uh… Nope. Nothing,” I say.
“Nothing?”
I shake my head. If he wanted me to dump my entire tragic backstory on him, he should’ve come a minute earlier in the hallway.
Geier leans back in his seat with a defeated sigh. “Fair enough. Get back to class,” he says as he waves me off.
As I gather my backpack off the ground, I stop—as much as I hate to admit it, he’s saved my ass more than once. The least I can do is throw him a bone.
“I guess… I could use some advice,” I mumble reluctantly.
“Yeah?” His eyes light up just a smidge. “What’s going on?”
“My dad is… unwell.” I clear my throat, pushing each word through. “I don’t really, um, know what to do or, like, say to him, I guess? He’s been doing better recently, but then this happened, and now… I’m terrified.” My vision blurs as tears threaten to pour from my face. Fuck. I’m trying not cry in front of my principal of all people, but it’s the truth—I am fucking terrified. Even if he’s stable now, what if something bad happens later? What if, on top of all the shit that’s been going on lately, I lose my dad after I just got him back?
I can’t go through this again. But I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to stop it.
Geier lets out a heavy sigh into the air, his expression noticeably darker. “I’m so sorry, Yuno. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through,” he begins, slowly, calmly. “It’s hard not to feel powerless when it feels like your world is collapsing all around you. But I can promise you this—you are not alone.”
He leans forward in his chair, making sure that I hear every word. “You have a support system, Yuno. Lean on them. Don’t try to shoulder all these problems alone, because you aren’t alone. You never are. And speaking as a father, I can tell you right now that all your father needs is you. Be there for him. Show him what he needs to fight for.”
I wipe my tears against my sleeve as his words hang in the air. God dammit—he’s not so bad at this whole “principal” thing after all. “O-okay…” I mutter, sniffling.
Geier scribbles his signature on a slip of paper and hands it to me. “Here’s a pass. If you need anything else from me, you know where I am, alright?”
“Yeah.” I take the pass from him and trudge towards the door. “Uh, thanks, Geier.”
He gives me a final nod as I shut the door behind me. In the now empty hallways, I lean against the wall, getting my bearings for a quiet moment. Christ, when did I get so emotional? I feel like I’ve shed more tears in the past two days than I have in the past couple years. Thank God no one burst into the room while I was being a big fucking cry baby.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, probably my friends wondering what Geier wanted. But as my eyes scan the notification, my jaw drops to the floor in utter shock.
Minji: hey :) meet me in the music room after school?
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The end of the day can’t come fast enough. As soon as the final bell rings, I jump out of my seat and sprint all the way to the music room. Having never been anywhere near the music room, I get lost a couple times, but it doesn’t matter. I would scale the entire world on foot if it meant Minji was somewhere waiting for me.
I skid to a halt outside the door as I finally find it, tucked away in a quiet corner of the campus. Taking a second to catch my breath, I gently push the door open, finding Minji sitting in front of a grand piano. Her slender fingers lightly dance along the keys as she sways her head to a song playing through her earbuds. Golden afternoon light cascades from the windows and rests on the soft skin of her cheek. I almost cry again from the mere sight of her—she’s so beautiful.
Finally, after staring at her for way longer than I probably should, Minji notices my presence, her lips curling into a soft grin. “Yuno.”
I feel my chest tighten from the sound of her voice. “I, uh, got your text.”
“So you did.” She pats the spot next to her, inviting me over.
The last time we were this close, we were in a dreary coffee shop on a rainy day after I just went through one of the worst experiences of my life. But now, we’re here, in the sunny quiet where no one can disturb us. Our own little pocket of the universe, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment.
“I didn’t know you played,” I comment, glancing at the piano keys.
“Kind of,” she breathes. “I used to come here all the time when I was a freshman and teach myself piano whenever I had free time. Sometimes the music teacher would come in and teach me a song or two.” Her smile widens at the memory. “But after I became student council president, I haven’t been able to stop by as often. I was never that good in the first place, but it was always fun to learn something new. Something that my parents didn’t force me to do.”
“I’d love to hear you play.”
“Maybe.” She gazes longingly at the piano, fingers brushing against the keys just light enough so that they don’t make a sound. “Y’know, I never really wanted to become student council president.”
My brow raises in surprise. “Really?”
She nods. “I don’t regret doing it—I like being able to help people on a larger scale and trying to make things better from the inside out—but this was always what my parents wanted me to do.”
“Huh,” I breathe, letting her words sink in. “What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t know,” Minji sighs. “I mean, I do know, I’m just not sure if I have the courage to do it.”
It’s entirely unfair that someone as talented and hardworking as Minji has to go through all this shit. It makes sense for me, but what did she ever do to deserve this? Tentatively, I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. Her eyes widen at me, cheeks turning a rosy pink, but she doesn’t pull away.
“You’re stronger than you think,” I say softly, looking into her eyes. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I believe in you.”
Minji’s lips curl into a smile, and I swear it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “That means a lot. Thank you.” Her gaze falls down to our hands, still tenderly intertwined. “I guess we should talk about what this is.”
I gulp nervously. “Do you want me to let go?”
She shakes her head. “Do you want to let go?”
“No,” I admit. I’d much sooner cut my own arm off then willingly let go of her hand.
“Good.” She gently squeezes my hand in hers. “So I guess this means we’re… dating?”
As much as I would like that, it just doesn’t feel right. Not yet, at least. “I'm… not sure,” I utter.
Minji lets out a long sigh, her thumb gently caressing the back of my hand. “Honestly, me neither. Things have been so hectic lately that the thought of us happening just feels… unreal.”
I nod in agreement, but I can’t quite quell the gnawing insecurity in the back of my head. After everything that happened, we’re finally here, together, but the thought of messing it all up before we even start scares the hell out of me.
I like Minji. I want to be her boyfriend. I want to hold her hand and keep her close and be hers in every sense of the word. Fearful yet determined, I suck in a deep breath. “Maybe we can start things slow. No labels, just us,” I suggest sheepishly. “I… like you, Minji. A lot. And I really don’t want to mess this up.”
Minji bites her lip, failing to fight back a smile as her cheeks turn as pink as cherry blossoms in spring. “You’re stronger than you think. I believe in you,” she teases. “And I like you too, Yuno. A lot.”
As those words grace my eardrums, I feel my heart burst out of my chest, growing wings and flying to the Heavens above. Eat shit, Sunghoon. This girl—this beautiful, amazing, smart, kind, angel of a person—said that she likes me. I don’t care about what her parents think, or what those other rich fucks think, or what anyone else in the world thinks.
Minji Kim likes me. And that matters more than anything.
“Uh, do you have to be anywhere soon?” she asks, a shy look in her eyes.
“Not for a few hours,” I reply. “Why?”
Minji offers me one of her earbuds. “I told my parents I had a student council meeting today so they won’t expect me home for a little while. Do you want to listen to music together?”
As if I could ever say no to her. I take the earbud and place it into my ear, watching as Minji scrolls through her playlist. After a second, the sound of a gentle piano plays straight into my ear, making my body sway side to side. As each note plays, I feel my body growing lighter and lighter, like I might float away if Minji’s grip wasn’t tethering me to the ground.
Outside of these four walls, things are still a mess. My dad is in the hospital. Sunghoon is still creeping around somewhere. Minji’s parents still don’t approve of me. But right now, none of that matters. It’s just us. Not quite friends, not quite dating—something in the middle that’s uniquely our own.
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Dad’s condition has improved since I last saw him passed out and barely breathing. The doctor says he won’t be 100% for a couple more days, so I’m making an effort to visit him when I can. Like Geier said: ”Show him what he needs to fight for.”
“Are you sure these flowers are okay?” Winter asks, a vase full of pink carnations in hand. “I don’t even know if your dad likes pink.”
“It’s fine,” I reassure her. “He’ll love them.”
“It’ll really stand out against all these white walls, don’t you think?” Yujin adds with a chuckle. Hospitals never fail to make me feel some type of way, but at least I’m not alone this time.
As we enter my dad’s room, we see him scraping down the remnants of a jello cup while watching a rerun of Jeopardy on TV. “Hey kiddos,” he says, his eyes lighting up once he notices us.
“Hi, dad,” I say, mirroring his grin. “I brought some friends from school, Winter and Yujin.”
Winter nervously sets down the vase on his bedside table. “H-hello, Mr. Lin. We got these f-for you.”
“Thank you! How’d you know my favorite color was pink?” my dad jokes. Compared to how he was on day one—just barely clinging on to life—seeing him so animated puts my mind at ease.
Yujin approaches him, hand outstretched. “It’s nice to officially meet you, sir! I must say, you’ve done a fine job raising your son!” As nice as the sentiment is, I can’t help but cringe on the inside.
Dad matches Yujin’s energy, shaking his hand with the same fervor. “Did I?” He glances at me, and for a moment, I can see a crack in his expression. It’s just a mere flash, but I know what it means—all the regret of not being there for me these past couple years is still eating at him from the inside. “I can’t take all the credit. His mom did most of the work. Isn’t that right?”
I shake my head and quickly change the subject. “How are you feeling, dad?”
“Amazing, if you can believe it.” He reclines back in his bed, his hands resting behind his head with a content sigh. “They got all the streaming services here, and I get as many jello cups as I want.”
“Even the lime ones?!” Yujin asks, his eyes widening as if all-you-can-eat jello is the epitome of luxury.
“Absolutely, my friend,” Dad chuckles. With how sociable he is, it’s a wonder how I’m his son. “So how’d you two meet Yuno?”
A flash of panic hits me. “Well, uh—”
“He beat up my bully for me.” Yujin beats me to the punch, casually explaining my violent past in less than a dozen words.
“He… did?” Dad glances towards me with an expression I can’t quite read. Disappointment? Anger? Confusion? Maybe all of it. My gaze falls to the side, cheeks burning with shame.
“M-mine too, technically,” Winter adds. Well that’s just great.
An awkward tension hangs in space between me and my dad and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. Part of the process of becoming a better person is coming to terms with the fact that I did shitty things, noble intentions or not. I hurt people. I probably put them in this same exact hospital. Maybe even the same bed my dad is in at one point in time.
This feeling sucks, but I have to come clean eventually. I can’t keep my dad in the dark forever, right?
“Yeah,” I utter carefully. “They were being bullied, and no one else would do anything about it, so I… stepped in.”
My dad doesn’t say anything right away, leaving me to guess what he’s thinking.
‘When did I raise such a monster?’
‘Your mother would be so disappointed in you.’
Something along those lines, probably.
"So, that time you came home with all those bruises…" my dad mutters, putting the pieces together.
I nod. "These guys were threatening Winter. I didn't want her getting hurt, so…"
A tense moment passes. And then, a laugh.
"You really are your mom's son," he chuckles.
"What?"
"Oh yeah, she was a real firecracker when she was your age." My dad's eyes wash over with this dreamy look as he recalls the past. "She couldn't stand bullies. Half the time, I was there to calm her down, but if I wasn't? Oh boy. She once took down five other girls by herself and walked away with nothing but a broken nose!"
Yujin, Winter, and I exchange confused looks. "Mom was really like that?" I ask.
"You should've seen her, Yuno! If it weren't for your grandma forcing her to become a nurse, I bet she would've been a world champion MMA fighter!" he guffaws.
To think, my own mom, who I only remember as being kind and compassionate, used to be just like me?
I imagine what she must've been like in her younger days. Was she enraged by the lack of action from the school? Did she take matters into her own hands to protect others, even if it meant getting herself hurt? Did grandma ever scold her for always getting into trouble? If Mom was still alive, would she have scolded me the same way? Or would she see part of herself in me?
I'll never know. And yet, I feel closer to her than ever.
"Wow!" Yujin stares at me, all starry-eyed and awe. "Your mom sounds so cool!"
"Oh, she was the coolest!" Dad lays back with a satisfied grin. "But that's a story for another time. Sorry kiddos, this old man is getting a little tired."
"Can we come visit you again, sir?" Yujin asks.
"Of course."
"It was a pleasure meeting you," Winter says.
"Likewise." He lets out a long yawn, his eyes fluttering shut. "Take care of Yuno for me, will ya?"
I roll my eyes. "See ya, dad."
"See ya, son."
The last thing I see before we shut the door is my dad's resting face—so peaceful. So alive.
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Minji's POV
Yuno and I are something.
More than friends, not quite dating yet—just something.
The thought of it is enough to force a smile out of me. A couple months ago, I never would've believed I would be part of something, let alone with Yuno, but now, our little something is all I can think about.
I know we said we would take things slow, but my god, all I can think about is holding his hand. They're so warm and a little rough around his knuckles, I could trace his calluses for hours. And the way his eyes dilate whenever he looks at me? So cute. I feel like I'm going to burst into a billion specks of light just thinking about him.
But alas, all good things must come to an end.
I barely have enough time to kick off my shoes before the smile is wiped off of my face.
"Welcome home, dear," Mother greets me from the living room. Next to her are the Parks, and that slimy gremlin that they call a son.
I muster up the most convincing smile I can. "Hello, mother. Mr. and Mrs. Park. Sunghoon." Why does he always have to be here at the most inopportune moments? Not like there's ever an opportune moment for him to be around, but I digress.
"Why don't you join us for some tea?" Mother offers.
"I'd love to, but I have a, uh, bio test I need to study for."
"Why don't you have Sunghoon join you?"
Ah. Just great.
"Mrs. Park has been telling us all about Sunghoon's tutors," she says.
"If you'd like, I can get you in contact with them," Sunghoon adds with that cheesy grin.
"Thanks, I'll, uh, think about it," I mutter.
I trudge up the stairs with Sunghoon in tow. As soon as the door shuts behind us, his grin drops, revealing the true slime ball underneath. He can stay here to keep up appearances with our parents, but I'm not speaking to him if I can help it.
"What? You're just going to ignore me now?" he scoffs.
I do just that, idly scrolling through my phone.
"Fine. Be that way." The room fills with a tense silence. I can feel his eyes burning a hole through me, but I don't dare look up from my phone.
"You know what," he begins again, "you're lucky that I haven't said anything to my parents about Yuno's attack against me." Sunghoon touches his throat where Yuno had choked him just days ago.
I know what he's doing—just trying to get a rise out of me. I won't give him the satisfaction.
"I could have him expelled!" he all but yells. "He attacked me, Minji! And you're siding with him? What is your deal?!"
Any louder and our parents will storm upstairs to find out what all the ruckus is about. Will he really go that far? Who knows what this psychopath is capable of?
Sunghoon rakes his hands over his face, clearly irked by my silence. "One more slip up from him and I'll get him expelled in an instant, do you understand me?" he growls.
"Touch him and I'll choke you myself," I say before I even have the chance to think about it.
He laughs. "Oh, I'd love to see you try."
"Ugh, gross." I scoot away from him. "Why can't you just leave us alone?"
Sunghoon's eyes grow wide. "'Us'? Since when we're you two an 'us'?"
"It… doesn't matter," I stutter.
"Are you two… dating?"
I bolt to my feet. "Get out of my room."
"Minji—"
"Get out."
"You are making the biggest mista—"
"I'll scream," I threaten. I'm not sure what exactly screaming will accomplish, but it seems to be enough to get him to back off.
He scoffs. "Maybe I won't even need to do anything. Eventually, he'll screw this all up himself." The door slams behind him, and I'm finally left alone.
Sunghoon can say whatever he wants. I'll protect Yuno with my life if I have to. This is my first something and I'm not gonna let this slime ball take that away from me.
I collapse back onto my bed, phone in hand. With how much of a roller coaster life has been lately, I need a good distraction.
Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission! If you would like to purchase a commission of your own, or you simply want to leave a tip, head over to this page!
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A light breeze brushes past you, relieving you of your exhaustion for a brief moment as you watch the sun set below the city of Paris from the balcony of your hotel room. The 14-hour flight from Korea was hell, but the view alone made it all worth it. It has always been part of your bucket list to visit Paris one day, it’s a shame that you won’t be able to actually experience any of it though. With the International Summit starting tomorrow, you need to be extra focused on your work as a diplomat representing your country.
A cafe sits across the street from your hotel, beckoning you with its warm and welcoming light. You watch as the people inside talk and laugh about things you can only assume, enjoying one another’s company on this chilly winter day. A nice cup of coffee sounds great right now, but you have to be ready for tomorrow. But… It’s not tomorrow yet. The night is still young, giving you a couple hours to check out the cafe and maybe even explore the city for a little bit. You did all the extra work you needed to do on the plane, so there’s no reason for you to stay in your hotel room. After the summit is over, you’ll be on a flight straight back to Korea, and when are you ever gonna have the time to come back to Paris again? Besides, you’ve been working too hard for far too long, you deserve to have a small break.
Without hesitation, you grab your coat and exit your room, beelining it straight towards the elevators as you mentally practice the little French that you learned before the trip. With a resounding ding, the elevator doors open and you walk inside, only a couple floors standing between you and the City of Light.
The elevator shifts to a stop on one of the floors, opening to reveal a girl around your age wearing a mask and a cap pulled low over her eyes. Even with the majority of her face covered, you could feel the aura of elegance and beauty surrounding her. Her outfit isn’t anything crazy on the surface - a hoodie layered with a leather jacket and a clean pair of jeans - yet something about the way she wears it is so attractive. You wouldn’t be surprised if you find out that she’s a model for Paris Fashion Week, which coincidentally occurs at the same time as the summit.
“Hello,” you greet as she steps into the elevator. She returns your greeting with a simple nod, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter. You didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but you imagine this is how it would feel like.
The elevator descends in silence, save for its mechanical rumble. Due to the nature of your job, you meet a lot of important people from around the world, so your conversational skills have naturally improved over the years. However, you suddenly find yourself tongue-tied around this random girl, not even a simple “How are you?” can escape your lips. All you can do is sneak little glances at her, but now you just feel creepy. Oh well, it’s not like you’re here to meet women or anything of that sort. You just want to feel some freedom for a little bit.
Suddenly, you nearly fall to the ground as the elevator begins to jerk violently. A hauntingly loud creaking noise can be heard from outside as the elevator abruptly stops its descent. The girl trips forward into your chest, and you instinctively catch her, holding on until the elevator eventually stops swaying.
Both of you share a huge sigh of relief. Even if the elevator stopped working, at least you're not plummeting to your doom.
“T-thank you,” the girl says, her voice trembling slightly. You meet her eyes for the first time, suddenly greeted by the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They’re invigorating like the strongest shot of espresso, sweet like the creamiest hazelnut chocolate, and warming like the first cup of hot cocoa in the winter. You could spend hours, no, years just looking into her eyes, getting lost in every flicker of her irises and every flutter of her lashes.
“Um, are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, s-sorry,” you stutter nervously, finally letting her go. You turn away from her, hoping she doesn’t notice the deep red in your cheeks.
She starts pushing buttons at random, but none of them seem to work, not even the one to call the firefighters. A wave of dread washes over the both of you at the realization that you have no idea how long it’ll take to get out of this metal coffin. Maybe an hour at best, maybe never at worst. With nothing else you can possibly do, you resign yourself to the ground, resting your back against the wall. This is what you get for trying to live a little - you get trapped in a box, forced to think about the consequences of your actions. All because you wanted a cup of coffee.
The girl sits across from you, tossing her hat and mask off in defeat, ruffling her silky black hair with her fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat - she is absolutely gorgeous. You swear you’ve seen her face before, maybe she’s a model for a high-fashion brand or the daughter of a rich CEO who ends up getting in the news for trivial matters. Either way, you can’t help but stare at her, slack-jawed in awe.
“Um, did you want an autograph or something?” She asks, her eyebrows raised in judgment.
You pick your jaw up off the ground, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “N-no, sorry, you just look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”
She chuckles lightly at your expression. “No, I don’t think we have. I’m Minji.” She reaches her hand out towards you in a friendly handshake, which you accept with a smile.
“I’m Eric. It’s nice to meet you, Minji.” The two of you share a laugh despite the unconventional circumstances. “Weird question, are you Korean?”
“Wah, that’s a good guess. How’d you know?” Minji tilts her head like a curious puppy, causing your heart rate to skyrocket. You can’t fathom how someone can be this cool, cute, and pretty all at the same time.
“Your name,” you explain. “I live in Korea for work, so I’ve gotten used to hearing Korean names.”
“Really? What do you do for work?”
“I work at the embassy in South Korea representing my country. I’m actually in Paris for the International Summit this week.”
“Oh wow, that’s so cool!” Minji’s eyes light up with wonder, her smile making you forget about the dire situation you’re in.
“Hehe, thanks! What about you, what do you do for work?”
“I, um…” She hesitates, lost in thought. “I’m here for Paris Fashion Week.”
“That makes sense, you’re very beautiful,” you suddenly blurt out. Your eyes grow wide with shock at your own words. “I-I mean, uh-”
“No, it’s okay. That’s very sweet.” A light pink hue graces her cheeks as she smirks at you. “So, is this your first time in Paris?”
You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she didn’t take your compliment weirdly. “Yeah, it’s my first time. I was gonna go out and see the city for a bit since I’ll be swamped with work for the next couple of days, but now I’m… here.”
She nods in understanding. “That’s what I was doing too. It’s difficult to find a moment to myself because of my job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a ton of fun, but sometimes I feel like a robot following orders, not really being able to live.”
The space between you falls silent in contemplation. You know that feeling all too well. You love that you’re able to help thousands of people every day by being a voice for the people who need it, but work can often get in the way of what you want to do. When was the last time you spent time with your family? Or sat down with a good book? Or went on a date? When was the last time you were able to breathe?
“If you weren’t stuck in here right now, what would you be doing?” You ask in hopes that it will lift the mood.
“Hmm, I don’t know. Probably walk around and take pictures of all the pretty lights. Maybe get some ice cream if there are any shops open.”
Your ears perk up. “Ice cream? In the winter?”
Minji puts her arms up in defense. “Before you go judging me, just try it for yourself first, alright?”
“No, I like it too!” You exclaim, surprised that you found someone that thinks like you. “I don’t like waiting until summer just to eat ice cream. It tastes better during winter anyways.”
“Oh my god!” Minji jumps up in excitement. “Finally, someone who gets it! All my friends called me weird for eating ice cream when it’s cold outside!”
Enthused by her energy, you stand up to meet her. “They just don’t understand that it doesn’t melt as quickly so you get to enjoy it for longer.”
“Right?!”
You suddenly find yourself inches away from her face, staring into her big, round eyes. The subtle heat of her breath brushes against your cheeks, warming your entire body. You would gladly spend forever stuck in this moment with her, watching the reflection of the universe in her eyes.
As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Minji pulls away, leaving you breathless. You quickly change the subject before the air between you gets too awkward to the point of no return.
“So… Paris Fashion Week. How’d you get involved with that?”
Much to your relief, Minji eases up, leaning against the wall as she turns to you. “I was invited by Chanel to come and watch their show, and I’ve always loved fashion so there was no way I was going to decline the invitation.”
“Oh, you’re watching the show? I assumed that you were modeling for them,” you say.
She chuckles to herself, blushing slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t break the elevator on purpose just so you could flirt with me?”
“N-no, I didn’t, I swear!” You stutter, flustered. Minji cackles like a hyena at your expression, causing you to keel over in laughter yourself from the insane sound coming out of her mouth. The sound of joyous laughter from two strangers fills the small elevator, unsure of how much time has passed or if you’re ever going to get out of there. You wonder what would’ve happened if the elevator worked normally. Would you be here talking like this? Or would the two of you go about your night without a single word shared between each other? Sure, seeing the streets of Paris would have been great, but would it have been as great as this?
Both of you find yourselves lying side by side, staring up at the bright fluorescent light, your stomachs aching from laughter. Despite it being your first meeting, you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her your whole life. Maybe it’s the same way survivors of a big tragedy bond through shared trauma or something like that.
“Do you really not know who I am?” Minji asks after a long silence. You rack your brain for any possible memories of ever seeing her, but only a faint silhouette appears in your mind.
“Sorry, I really don’t,” you answer. “Oh god, don’t tell me we’re old classmates or something. I would feel terrible if we used to be friends and I didn’t know.”
Her laugh tickles your ear like spring grass brushing against your legs. “No, it’s not like that. Honestly, it feels kinda nice that you don’t know anything about me. No expectations, no questions, no nothing. You just treat me like…. a regular human being,” she sighs.
“Now I’m kinda scared to ask who you are,” you quip, catching a smile from her. “Maybe I don’t have it as bad as you, but I can relate to you somewhat. There’s a lot of people depending on me to make the right decisions and if I miss up even a little bit, so many people get affected by it. If I get recognized in the streets, sometimes they’ll outright tell me what to do, talking about how their families would suffer because of me or outright threatening me to do what they want. It feels like I’m constantly walking on a tightrope being held by two sides that hate each other. No matter what I do, someone is always unhappy.”
Minji meets your eyes in mutual understanding. “That sounds really tough. I’m sorry, Eric.”
Such a simple gesture, yet one that you desperately needed. Talking to her feels like a massive weight is being lifted off of you. The amount of silent suffering you’ve had to endure over the years is finally being unloaded without judgment. With how many people’s lives you affect every day, you never truly realized just how lonely you feel. Thanks to Minji, you feel a little less alone.
“So, what is that you do?” You ask to lift up the mood. “I’ve been dying to know. I’m assuming you’re a celebrity of some kind?”
She smirks at you. “Have you ever heard of New Jeans?”
And then it clicks. You’ve seen her face plastered everywhere in Korea, billboards, ads, commercials, less than 24 hours ago you walked past her face in the airport right before you left. While you aren’t the biggest Kpop fan in the world, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have Hype Boy in your playlist for a solid month.
“Ah, so that’s why you looked so familiar. I’m glad you’re not a classmate I forgot about,” you joke.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we were friends in another lifetime. You’re very easy to talk to.” Minji meets your eyes, casting that warm smile that makes you feel at ease. You forget that you’re in this tiny box with no way out but patience. You forget that in less than 24 hours, you’ll be surrounded by the most important figures in the world, attending a conference that can impact billions of people across the globe. You forget about your feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and stress that you’ve been feeling recently. As you look into Minji’s eyes, all you can think about is her. Her kindness. Her radiance. Her laugh. Just her.
The elevator begins to shake around you, rumbling to life. Your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but all you feel is the gradual descent of the elevator before it lands on the first floor. You and Minji stand up, not a word exchanged between the two of you. Is this… it? Is it over? Are you just supposed to go your separate ways now?
The doors open to reveal the owner of the hotel on the other side, relief and guilt painted on his sweaty face. “I-I am terribly sorry about the elevator, are you two alright?” He asks.
As you reassure him of your safety, you notice Minji quickly slipping past, donning her mask and hat. You decline the owner’s offer of a free spa day and chase after her.
Minji is an idol. Intimidatingly gorgeous, held to an impossibly high standard that she somehow manages to exceed at every turn. Despite that, she’s also kind, humorous, and down to Earth, nothing like many of the celebrities you’ve seen on social media. Even in your brief meeting, she understood you. She wanted to understand you. You can visit Paris again sometime in the future. But Minji? You’ll never meet a person like her again.
You catch up to her as she stands at a crosswalk. “H-hey, hi, um…” The words get caught in your throat as nervousness overwhelms you. Can you really do this? Would you be able to make this work with your busy schedules? Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.
“Would you want to get a cof-”
“Yes,” Minji interrupts you. “I would love to have coffee. With you.”
Disbelief and happiness replace the doubts you felt moments ago. She takes your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, as the two of you walk to the cafe across the street, beckoning you with its warm and welcoming light.
You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re a “nerd” ages ago. Studying isn’t something you necessarily enjoy, but it’s a requirement for securing your spot in the real world, where meaningless titles like “nerd” or “jock” hold no substance on one’s success and only those who truly work hard will stand the test of time. With finals inching ever closer, it’s vital to you that you don’t waste a single second—
“What’s up, nerd?”
A light smack to the back of your head tears you out of the flow state you were in while brushing up on previous study guides from the past year. There’s only one person you know that’s dimwitted enough to still throw out outdated insults like that, almost as if she’s a caricature of a high school bully from those 2010’s movies she claims to hate.
“Bae,” you grumble, “Why are you even here? I thought you said you were ‘allergic to the library’?”
She shrugs, plopping down into the empty seat next to you. “I got bored.”
“Okay.” You turn your attention back to the worksheets in front of you, trying to remember where you left off. “Not my problem.”
“C’mon, man,” she groans. “Let’s do something fun.”
There aren’t many things that threaten the future of your success; most issues can be waved away with a quick favor or a helpful push in the right direction. In fact, you already have the rest of your life meticulously planned out in a journal, complete with potential contingencies and multiple backups in case any problems may arise.
Enter: Bae Jinsol. The physical embodiment of everything that could and will stand in your way. You tutored her once two semesters ago, and you’ve regretted it ever since. Not quite a leech—you’re not that cruel—but her unyielding persistence alone is enough to make it so that giving her what she wants is the only viable solution you have. More often than not, this means hours of time wasted that could be spent towards perfecting your mind to the best it can be.
“I’m really busy right now.”
“What could you possibly need to study for, you’re, like, the smartest person I know.”
You raise an eyebrow at her. “Knowing you, that doesn’t mean much—Ow.”
Bae slaps your arm, her lip jutting out in a pout. “That’s mean.”
You can’t help but grin at her expression. “You’re right, that was mean. I apologize,” you say, making an effort to sound sincere. “Now, I have a lot of work to do, so unless you’re okay with sitting there quietly, I suggest that you go and hang out with your other friends.”
She rests her head against the table, turning to watch you with her endearingly round eyes. “I chose to come here. I’ll stick to my decision like a real man.”
“Whatever,” you chuckle before turning back to the study guide.
It’s a bit difficult trying to study with an audience, but not a scenario you’re unfamiliar with. On the rare occasion that Bae doesn’t consistently bug you with her antics, you find her presence quite comfortable. Sometimes she’ll even ask about what you’re working on and entertain your little rants about discoveries you’ve made or thoughts you’ve been having, asking questions if she doesn’t get something. Her motivation to study is nonexistent, but her desire to understand is glaring.
Although, with nothing to talk about today, she gives you a good five minutes before breaking the silence.
“I’m bored again,” she sighs. “Let’s get boba.”
“What happened to sticking to your decision ‘like a real man’?” you tease.
“I’m a woman, jackass.” She leans into you, obscuring your view of the study guide with her face. “And this woman wants boba.”
The world around you freezes as the scent of her perfume lingers past your nose, igniting memories of warmth and coziness. The first crack in a wall that you worked too hard to maintain.
“Why don’t you ask Haewon to go with you instead?” you suggest, trying and failing to avert your gaze from those perfect irises, like swimming pools of deep obsidian.
“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “...I wanna get boba with you.”
The crack in the wall splinters and grows, exposing the weaknesses that you didn’t know were there. Or perhaps, you did know and chose to ignore them anyways, spackling over them with cheap excuses.
You scoff at her, a meager attempt to save face. “You just want me to pay for you. Again.”
“I told you I’ll pay you back!” she exclaims, earning a couple harsh shushes from nearby students. “I’m just a little strapped for cash at the moment.”
“Why don’t you try, I don’t know, actually looking for a job?” Your gaze moves back to your papers, desperately trying to escape this stalemate. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.”
Bae clings to the sleeves of her sweater, pouting at you. “Please~?”
Despite her persistence, you dare not move an inch, worried that one small movement could be the final crack that topples the wall. Your eyes reread the same line over and over again, hoping each pass will eventually take, but your mind is too cluttered to properly focus. With the gentle tug of her fingers and the notes of vanilla bean gliding past your nostrils, it’s a wonder how you haven’t succumbed to her demands already.
With a huff of her breath, Bae takes your hand in hers, using her final trump card.
“Baby~”
You want to think that, at that moment, the wall came crashing down in a ceremonious fashion, leaving behind a pile of rubble in its wake, a monument to all the effort you put into your future. But the truth is, she tore down that wall months ago—in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment of its destruction.
The second you came face to face with her confused expression in that pre-calc class is the moment that sealed your fate, completely changing your perception of what the future could be like for you. That journal you keep, detailing every single miniscule detail of your potential career? You barely got two pages in before turning it into a scrapbook, filling every inch of paper with words, pictures, and keepsakes that remind you of the girl that refuses to give you a moment of peace.
And maybe that’s a good thing. The world could end tomorrow, rendering all of your plans useless. Why spend your last moments with your nose in a study guide when you could be drinking boba with your girlfriend?
“...You’re the worst, you know that?” you utter, interlacing your fingers with hers. Bae flashes you that wide, toothy smile that you can’t get enough of.
“Wow, you’re actually so obsessed with me, that’s insane,” she teases. “Just a single word and you immediately folded like an omelet.”
You haphazardly throw your belongings into your bag, eager to get out of the library and spend time with her. “I’m not obsessed, stupid,” you say,” I’m in love with you.”
“God, you’re so corny.” Despite her deflection, the blush growing on her face betrays her true feelings. She nervously scans the rest of the room before planting a sneaky kiss on your cheek, warm yet fleeting. “I love you too, stupid.”
It’s a fool’s errand to try and predict the future. No matter how smart you are, how many books you read, how many plans you make, the only thing you can do is hope for the future that you desire. And right now, the only future you want is one just like the present, with you clinging onto Bae’s hand with no intention of letting go.
I inhale the evening air, letting the aroma of grass fill my lungs. The full moon watches over us with a gentle gaze, casting an intimate spotlight on me and Minji. She leans over the railing, watching the streetlights flicker on the town below and imagining that they're stars shining from a million miles away.
A cool breeze whistles past. I wrap an arm around Minji for warmth, and she leans into my touch.
It's quiet. Peaceful. Perfect.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight," she comments. I nod, but all my focus is on her: the girl more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. Her hair dances with the wind like a stream of the finest black silk; her eyes, so full of wonder and possibility, hide their own galaxy within. Planets, constellations, blackholes, pieces of Minji only revealed to those that can see beyond her surface.
Being here, alone, with her—I could die with a smile.
"Minji," I utter softly in the narrow space between us. She turns to me, a knowing smile on her lips, and shuts her eyes. She's waiting.
With a quivering breath, I slowly lean in, captured in the force of her gravity. As I move closer and closer, warm puff of her breath brush my cheeks, like the first ray of sunshine after an arduous winter. Her soft lips are the last thing I see before my vision grows dim.
And then, nothing.
My eyes shoot open. Minji is gone, replaced by the slow whirling of my ceiling fan. I jolt upright, desperately searching for her, only to be met with the dull layout of my bedroom. A disappointed sigh leaves my lungs—just a dream.
My phone sits on my bedand the memory of my fruitless attempt at texting her comes crawling back. How fucking pathetic. In my dream, I have no problem being all lovey-dovey and shit, yet I can't even think of a single thing to say to her in the real world. My fingers hover over the keyboard, some last ditch effort at searching for the rights words to say, but it's all for naught as I end up texting the group chat instead.
Yuno: Good Morning.
Yujin: GOOD MORNING!!!!
Winter: good morning :)
Yuno: What are you two up to?
Winter: working :/
Yujin: im hanging out with my grandma!!
With the two of them busy, I'm left to figure out how to spend my Sunday alone. I click over to Minji's blank messages one last time, my heart palpitating weirdly. Whatever this feeling is, love or otherwise, it's getting old quickly. Everything is confusing, and unlike most of my problems, I can't just brute force my way through it. What am I even hoping for here? A relationship? I don't know anything about relationships or dating or how to be a boyfriend.
Minji's boyfriend, huh? That sounds kinda nice.
No. We're too different, and I don't exactly have any redeeming qualities. I mean, Minji is like... a shining star—beautiful and radiant, but unattainable. And I'm just a sad cockroach that gets to look at the star. I wouldn't be surprised if my entire existence is just some sick joke played by whatever it is that's up there.
We're just friends, and that's okay. And yet, I can't quite ignore the dull pain in my chest from the thought of being 'just friends'. With a heavy sigh and a couple thousand unanswered questions, I send her a simple "Good Morning" text. Because that's what friends say to each other.
Heading downstairs, the sizzling of melting butter and the heavenly scent of warm maple syrup grows stronger, making my stomach growl louder than a lion asserting its dominance. My dad flips another pancake onto a growing stack, two more still cooking on the stovetop.
"Good morning, Yuno," he greets me with a quiet smile. "I made some breakfast. Help yourself."
I quickly take a seat and stack a couple pancakes onto my plate, practically drooling at the sight of these golden-brown disks of perfection. The warm scent wafts past my nose and I suddenly remember that first morning at Minji's house. Despite being complete strangers, she still offered me a place to sleep to avoid the rain, warm clothes to change into, and even went through all the trouble of making me waffles. She didn't have to, yet she did, and it made all the difference in my measly little life.
Minji is just so... incredible. And beautiful. And intelligent and kind and sweet and—
"Uh, are you okay?" I hear my dad ask. "You've been staring at your pancakes for a while now."
I shake my head, pulling myself back into reality. "I'm fine."
That's a lie. I'm not fine. A girl—THE girl—is taking over my mind, making my heart feel weird and my mouth feel dry. I like a girl that can't possibly like me back and I'm just supposed to be fine with that. How do I even begin to explain this to anyone?
My dad sits across from me at the table and fills up his plate. The silence between us begins to grow as we eat, an air of unease and uncertainty filling the room. On top of my feelings for Minji, I now have to deal with my feelings regarding the state of my dad. It's been years since I last saw him like this. He's fine now, but what if he relapses? How did he even make such an abrupt change anyway when all I saw him doing was sleeping and drinking? I should be happy, but I can't shake the feeling that he could just revert to his older self without warning. I can't cling to hope for too long, otherwise I'll be met with disappointment yet again.
"So, I was thinking," he says, nervously clearing his throat. "Would you wanna go to the mall later?"
I freeze like a deer in headlights, caught off guard by his sudden question. "The mall? Why?"
"You don't have to go if you don't wanna, I just thought..." He sighs heavily, dropping his expression to the floor. "I want to be your dad again, like old times, before your mother... left us. If you don't want anything to do with me, I understand, but if it's okay with you... I want a relationship with my son again."
He looks into my eyes with a sincere expression, tears threatening to pour. A part of me wants to say no, to make up some lame excuse and wander the streets until it's dark instead of spending any time with him. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am harboring some resentment for him for leaving me, a child, alone all these years, left to watch my one remaining parent shatter into a million pieces every day until he's nothing but dust. Maybe I got so used to being alone that the thought of relying on someone else again makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I get into these stupid fights and aimlessly walk around the neighborhood because I know that the only person waiting for me at home is constantly drunk and sleeping.
Despite that, I don't say no. I nod my head and utter, "Okay," because the other part of me wants to have my dad back regardless of what he did. I want to be able to come home after school, into a home with the lights on, where the air doesn't constantly smell like alcohol, and have someone, anyone, ask how my day went. I want someone to rely on when life gets too difficult to handle by myself. I want my family again.
So we eat our breakfast in silence. The uncertainty lingers, but next to it is a warming sense of hope, holding its hand in reassurance.
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Minji's POV
Knock, knock, knock
"Minji?"
Knock, knock, knock
"Honey, are you awake?"
I finally sit up, rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes. "Now I am," I yawn, stretching out my limbs. The clock reads 7:12 AM, about an hour after I usually wake up on the weekends. My phone lay face up on my bed, still on Yuno's empty messages. Like an idiot, I waited all night for a response from him, but all I got was an hour less of sleep. Maybe I shouldn't have held my breath for him.
My mother swings my bedroom door wide open. "Oh good, you're awake," she says, pacing around my room and picking up some of my laundry off the ground. "Go eat breakfast and get washed up. We're going to the mall."
"The mall? Why?" I ask.
"Oh, y'know... Just some clothes shopping," she says with a peculiar smile. "We need to update that closet of yours, dear."
Too drowsy to argue, I get out of bed and head downstairs, where my father is taking a call in the kitchen. Wisps of steam float from the mug of black coffee sitting on the counter next to him, untouched as he presses his phone to his ear with an intense focus. He mouths "Good morning" to me, gesturing to a plate holding a simple cheese and spinach omelet. I dig in, unintentionally eavesdropping on my father's conversation.
"Mhm. Tuesday you said? No, it's not a problem at all. Yes, she will be there, I'll make sure of it. Yeah. Mhm. No problem. We'll see you then."
Finally, he hangs up the phone and sits next to me at the dining table. Wrinkles of exhaustion decorate his face, likely from working early in the morning.
"Did you sleep okay, Minji?" He asks. "You're usually up earlier than this."
"I slept fine. I thought I'd get some more studying done after I got home and forgot about the time," I lie. I can't even imagine how furious he would be if I told him that I stayed up all night waiting for a text from a boy.
He grins proudly at me. "I'm happy that you're working hard on your studies, but good sleeping habits will keep our brain healthy." His phone buzzes in his pocket. "I'll be right back, I have to take this." He leaves the room, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my omelet and my thoughts. Maybe Yuno isn't going to text me. Maybe I should text him first instead. But shouldn't the guy text first...?
A sigh leaves my lips. I'm way in over my head with prom preparations already, I definitely don't have any room for a silly little crush. Perhaps these feelings are just one of circumstance. We've been bumping into each other everywhere, so these feelings will fade if I just avoid Yuno for a bit. Sounds easy enough, right?
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The mall is always busiest on the weekends, full of families and friends looking for new deals while carrying around soft pretzels or pointing out attractive people who pass by. This mall, however, is a bit different from most, reserving its entire top floor for high-end designer shops. There isn't any sort of membership or secret password that prohibits people from entering the top floor, but it generally stays barren aside from the few wealthy shoppers who can afford to do more than just window shop, including my family. The blatantly obvious segregation between social classes is disgusting, but I would be lying if I said I don't like being able to shop without stumbling through the thick crowds on the lower levels.
"What do you think about this one, dear?" My mother pulls a black dress off the hanger, presenting its fine, intricate detailing to me. Shimmering black beads are sewn into the fabric, probably taking countless hours to place by hand.
"It's very pretty," I comment plainly. By all means, it's a beautiful dress, but I much prefer something more comfortable.
"Why don't you go try it on, dear," she says, handing me the dress. I glance at the price tag, causing my eyes to go wide in shock at the $120,000 price point.
"$120,000? Isn't that a bit much for a dress?" I ask, concern painting my face.
"Nonsense, Minji. Don't you want to look good for the party?"
My brow furrows. "Party? What party?" My mother's gaze wanders, avoiding me completely.
"Well, there's no party in particular, but you never know what will come up. Just try on the dress please." She pushes me into the dressing room before I can ask another question.
Right as I close the door behind me, I feel my phone buzz in my purse. My heart skips a beat from the words on the screen - 1 new message from Yuno.
"AH!" I exclaim, nearly dropping my phone.
"Are you okay in there, ma'am?" A worker asks from the other side of the door. I can feel my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.
"I-it's nothing! Just a, uh, a spider! But it's okay!" I silently cringe at myself as I hear the worker's footsteps walking away. I just know Hanni would be laughing her butt off at me getting this excited over a text from Yuno.
With a trembling hand, I open up his text, which simply reads "Good morning." It's a short and simple message, yet I bite my lip, actively stifling a delighted squeal. An overwhelming sense of giddiness washes over me from those two words on the screen, my mind racing as I try to think of a response.
Should I ask him how he slept? Maybe that's a bit too intimate... Oh, what if he had a weird dream? That's an interesting topic of conversation, right? No, that might be too weird... Maybe I should ask the girls for help. But they might just laugh at me. Oh god, what do I do?
Right as my thumb hovers over the keyboard to type up a response, I freeze. This isn't what I'm supposed to be doing. Yuno and I are just friends, and that's all we can ever be. I'm just far too busy for any kind of serious relationship, and my parents clearly don't approve of him either. Even so, a small voice in the back of my head tells me to go for it, that it'll work out if I try hard enough. Anything can be achieved through hard work, right? That's what my parents always tell me. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as my heart and mind devolve into war with no clear victor. I don't even know for sure if he feels the same, yet here I am, getting all excited over his words on a screen.
A knock at the door snaps me out of my rambling thoughts. "Honey, are you okay in there? You've been in there a long time, I only gave you one dress to try," I hear my mom ask.
"S-sorry!" I quickly toss my phone back into my purse and grab the dress off the hanger. Maybe I just need some time to think about it.
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"Thank you for shopping with us, Ms. Kim! Have a wonderful day!" The worker exclaims as we leave the store with a plethora of shopping bags and a long receipt to match. My mother takes a single bag, leaving me to carry the rest. My family definitely has the means to live a "comfortable" life, but even exorbitant purchases like these are uncharacteristic of them.
"Why... huff... do I... huff... need all these clothes?" I ask, struggling to carry everything. "Isn't this... huff... a bit much just to update my closet?"
"Think of it as a gift from your mother, dear," she replies, not looking in my direction. "I barely get to see you because your father and I are always working. Don't you want to spend time with your mother?"
"I guess so..." But not like this, I think to myself. As we descend the escalator to the lower levels, the frequency of people increases, making it nearly impossible to take two steps without accidentally hitting someone with the bags. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I offer an apologetic look to everyone who passes by.
Amidst the chaos, I trip over my foot, sending shopping bags and expensive dresses flying everywhere. My mother continues on without even so much as a glance backward, leaving me to pick up the remnants of her wealth as passersby give me weird looks or downright ignore me. As if things couldn't get any worse, a man snatches my purse off the ground and dashes toward the mall exit.
"H-hey! Give that back!" Of course, my words fall on deaf ears as the thief gets farther and farther. No one moves to stop him, too scared or confused to intervene. My phone, my wallet, the little knick knacks my friends have given me over the years, all of it is gone...
Out of nowhere, a person tackles the thief to the ground, wrestling my purse from his hands. The scuffle ends with the heroic stranger standing over the thief's now unconscious body, a crowd surrounding and applauding his efforts. An overwhelming sense of gratitude fills me, and without thinking, I run over to my savior and capture him in a big hug,
"Oh my god, thank you so much for getting my purse back, I don't know how I can—" Panic replaces gratitude as I look up at him for the first time.
"Y-Yuno?!"
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Yuno's POV
I glare at the black screen of my phone, taunting me by reflecting my own ridiculous emotions. My body is restless, itching for any sign of life, a vibration, a notification, just anything to quench my frustrations. And then it happens: the screen lights up with life. Frantic, I grab the phone, bringing it up to my eyes to read the notification.
Yujin: Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy guyyyyyysssssss. I made kimbap for my grandma, what do yall think?
A photo of Yujin is attached to the text, depicting a clumsily put-together plate of what I assume to be kimbap. Out of the billion notifications I've received in the past hour, all of them have been from Yujin, and zero have been from Minji. My head drops in disappointment. Despite my own warnings, I can't stop thinking about her. She plagues my mind with her pretty eyes and cute face and gentle voice and—
"You alright, Yuno?" My dad sits across from me at the table, his brow furrowed in concern mid-chew. "You haven't touched your burger at all."
I shake my head, gathering my bearings. '50s rock music blasts from the speakers above, fitting the atmosphere of the classic American-style diner my dad ended up choosing. With no plan in mind, my dad suggested that we get some lunch first, although his words fell on deaf ears since I was too preoccupied staring at my phone.
"It's nothing," I utter, avoiding his eyes. He sighs heavily, his expression darkening.
"Look, I... I understand if you don't trust me completely, and I will work harder to earn your trust, but I don't want you to suffer in silence," he explains. "If something is going on, I want you to know that you can come to me for anything, no matter how big or small. I don't have the answers to everything, but I'm here to listen if you need me."
My lips part to speak, but the words get caught in my throat, too scared to make themselves heard. I choke them down, guilt arising within me due to my silence. What am I supposed to say? "Hey Dad, you are right, I feel weird seeing you like this after so long and so suddenly, but also my life in general has just become so weird. In less than a week, I slept over at the student council's president house, got two friends, got into several fights, went to the fair for the first time, and I also really like the student council president. Maybe even love her, I don't know."
This whole thing is ridiculous. I am ridiculous.
"I'm fine, really," I assure him, and myself partially.
He looks at me, unconvinced, but doesn't pry any further. "Alright, just... I want you to know."
God, this sucks. I can't even eat a meal with my own dad in peace because of my inability to function like a regular human being. Part of me wishes I could just pretend like everything is alright, but since when have I ever felt alright?
"What about you?" The words eject from my mouth without thought. Call it curiosity or not wanting to eat in awkward silence for the second time today. Either way, the question is out there now.
"What about me?" My dad asks, rightfully confused.
"I mean..." Fuck, why is it so hard to talk? "You... You're up and alive, I guess. What changed?"
He places his burger down and looks up with a thoughtful expression. "I, uh, went out for another drink one night and ran into an old friend from college. We just talked for a while, maybe even all night, just catching up like no time had passed. Y'know, he introduced me and your mom way back when. Seeing him reminded me of my old college days, living like I was on top of the world, and... I just knew something had to change."
"That's... great. Really." And I mean it. A smile grows on his face at my sincerity.
"Yeah, it really is. He basically saved my life. I hope you're able to find good friends like that, Yuno."
My phone buzzes with a new message from the group chat.
Winter: that looks really great yujin :D
Yujin: hehe thanks !!!
A small grin grows on my face. Maybe I already have. If only I could get a text from one other friend...
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We walk into a clothing store full of people my age dressed much more stylishly than I am. I didn't particularly need to update my closet, but the potential guilt of declining my dad's offer to buy me clothes was too overwhelming. Besides, what else are you supposed to do at a mall other than spend exorbitant amounts of money on material things?
"Go look around. Let me buy you something nice for once," he quips. His mood seems to have significantly brightened after our talk at the diner.
Looking through all the racks made me realize just how out of my element I am. Outside of my school uniform, most of my clothes are just sweats and hoodies - comfortable and don't draw too much attention. Everything (and practically everyone) in here is basically a giant billboard that says "Hey, look at me!!!"
Then, something catches my eye: a forest green sweater with a bear wearing overalls screen printed on the front. I try to move on, but the beady lifeless eyes of the bear stare into my soul, demanding that I take it home. It's ridiculous, It's childish, it's...
"I want it," I blurt out.
"Really? This?" Dad chuckles, examining the sweater. "Didn't think you would be interested in this kind of thing, but hey, what do I know about fashion?"
I cough awkwardly, my face growing warm. I didn't know anything about fashion either. Hell, if I didn't have the reputation I have, I would probably be a prime target for bullies if I wore that around. Out of everything in the store, why did I want that sweater? Who in their right mind would even like this sweater?
Minji. Minji would. Half of her bed is covered in teddy bears. I want that sweater because, for some stupid reason, I think it'll magically make her like me. Or something. I don't know. She hasn't even texted me back yet, what good is a sweater with a bear on it gonna do?
Before I could protest, my dad hands me the sweater in a plastic bag, already paid for. "You wanna stop by a couple more stores?" he asks.
"Sure," I concede, still feeling embarrassed. A part of me feels oddly glad that I took it, imagining Minji's reaction to seeing the sweater. "Wow Yuno, your sweater is so cute, we should go out sometime!" Yeah right. Still, I can't stop the small grin dancing on my lips.
"H-hey! Give that back!"
A familiar voice rings from the center of the mall. I glance upwards to see a man barging through the crowd, clutching onto a purse that definitely isn't his. Without thinking, I spring into action, dashing towards him as fast as I can.
"Yuno!" My dad calls out from behind me, but his words are left unheard as I continue my pursuit. Right before the man reaches the exit, I jump onto a bench and dive at him, tackling him to the ground
"What the fuck man, get off of me!" The thief yells. He lands a punch to the side of my head as I try to wrestle the purse from him. While it isn't the hardest blow I've received, it's enough to piss me off. I grab his throat, digging my fingers into his windpipe, nearly crushing it in my grip. He squirms underneath, the desperation welling in his eyes as he fights for breath. I reel back my fist and let it fly, aiming to crack his skull against the ground.
As my fist gets closer and closer to his head, time crawls to a standstill. Minji's voice echoes in my head: "You're a good person, Yuno. I just wish you would stop getting into trouble." I mean, he deserves it, he's a thief. He steals some poor girl's purse, he deserves a good beating. And yet, I pull back at the last moment, knocking him out instead of outright shattering his jaw. His skull is intact, but he'll surely feel it when he wakes up.
The sound of scattered applause around me pulls me from my adrenaline-fueled haze. It's only now that I realize people are recording me like a zoo animal, upholding me like I'm some kind of "hero" or something. In reality, I just did what they were too scared to do, but they're too busy creating their own narratives to see that.
Suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around me in a familiar and oddly comforting anaconda grip.
"Oh my god, thank you so much for getting my purse back, I don't know how I can—Y-Yuno?"
That voice. Is it...?
"M-Minji?"
I suddenly find myself mere inches away from Minji's face, staring straight into the blacks of her eyes. I take in the perfect slope of her nose, the roundness of her eyes, down to the soft puff of her lips. My first instinct is to pull away, but frankly, I don't want to. God, I think I'm going insane.
Fortunately (or rather unfortunately), Minji lets go, finally giving me room to breathe. But as my lungs fill with breath, so does my stomach fill with the incessant flapping of butterflies.
"S-sorry about that, uh... Th-thanks, Yuno..." She mutters, her gaze never leaving the ground.
"Y-yeah, no problem..."
"Yuno!" My dad calls out to me, running in our direction. "Jesus, you're fast... huff... Are you alright?" He glances over at the thief's unconscious body as two mall cops drag him away. "You certainly did a number on him, huh? Impressive." He pats my shoulder, giving me a proud smile.
The clop of expensive high heels draws our attention, growing louder and louder with each step.
"Minji! Are you okay, dear?"
Minji's mom appears, checking her for injuries.
"I-I'm okay, mother. Um, you remember Yuno, right?" She awkwardly gestures towards me, leading her mom's gaze. With her cold gaze studying my expression, It's like I have a sniper dot placed firmly onto my forehead, ready to blow my brains out if I so much as cough in her direction.
"Ah yes... I remember." Mrs. Kim's lips curl into a curt smile that does little to hide her disdain. "Thank you, I suppose. Although, I could've easily bought her another one." The tension rises as we lock eyes in a stalemate that neither of us are willing to lose.
"Hello!" my dad chimes in, unknowingly diffusing the situation. "I'm Ian Lin, Yuno's dad. It's nice to meet you!" He extends a hand towards her, which Mrs. Kim accepts with clear reluctance that he somehow doesn't notice.
"Well... I would love to chat, but we must get going." She steps past us, her heels clacking violently against the floor. "Minji dear, pick up the bags please. We need to get your new dresses fitted at the tailor." She doesn't even look back, leaving Minji to pick up the mountain of shopping bags by herself. It's a wonder that someone as unconditionally kind as Minji was born from someone like her. Maybe Minji is adopted or something.
"I should get going," Minji sighs, barely able to take a full step forward. "Thanks again, Yuno."
"Wait." I reach out and grab some of the bags from her. "Let me help you."
"Oh, you don't have t—"
"I want to."
Minji's cheeks turn peachy as she hands me a few of the bags to carry. Meanwhile, my dad whips over to the other side of her and offers his assistance.
"May I?" he asks. Minji concedes with a sigh, shooting him a grateful smile.
"Thank you. I was, uh, really struggling before," she admits.
The three of us follow loosely behind Minji's mother. No wonder she didn't text me, I don't think I would have the luxury of breathing when I'm around a terrifying woman like that. Still, it does put me at ease a bit knowing Minji wasn't exactly ignoring my text. Seeing her in person is way better than a couple of words on a screen.
"Minji, right?" my dad asks her. "Are you a friend of my son's?"
"Yes, Mr. Lin, we are friends."
Friends. The title feels bittersweet at best, but hearing her admit that without any hesitation in her voice makes my heart do a leap. I fake a cough just to hide my smile.
"That's great, I don't get to meet a lot of Yuno's friends. By the way, just call me Ian, Mr. Lin makes me feel older than I already am," he quips, earning a chuckle from Minji. "I have to ask, what's Yuno like at school?"
"Yuno is..." She turns to look at me, but my gaze is glued to the ground, too nervous to meet her eyes. "...a bit of a troublemaker..." Damn. "...but he's a good guy." Hell yeah.
"That's good to hear. Y'know, he gets his personality from his mother." His grin fades for a second before going back to normal. "And he gets his good looks from me."
The two of them laugh while I silently cringe to myself, a dull throb hitting my temples. Never in a million years did I imagine the two of them ever meeting, let alone holding a conversation like this. It's kinda nice, in an off-putting way. Better than letting Minji meet him as a grieving alcoholic.
"Hurry up dear," Minji's mom calls out to her, walking into the tailors.
"Welp, this is my stop. Thank you for the help, but I can take it from here," Minji says. She takes the bags from us, lightly gracing my hand and sending a jolt of electricity through my body. "Bye Yuno and it was nice meeting you Mr. Li—er, Ian."
A disappointed sigh leaves my lips as I watch her disappear into the shop. She was right there, close enough for me to catch a whiff of her lavender-scented perfume. I've been waiting all day for a text from her, yet my stupid feelings made me too nervous to speak.
"You like her, don't you?"
My head snaps towards my dad, a sly smirk dancing on his lips. My eyes grow wide in shock, "W-what, n-no... I-I just, uh... W-whatever..."
"I know that look anywhere, Yuno. It's the same one I gave your mother before we started going out," he explains. My face sinks into my hands, the overwhelming urge to disappear consuming me.
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Minji's POV
My family has frequented this specific tailor shop at the mall for numerous occasions over the years, we even went here to get my school uniform properly fitted before the school year started. The shop has one sole worker, a kind yet quiet old man. He's skilled at his job, but my only issue with him is that he continuously pokes me with sewing pins while taking my measurements.
"Mother, why do I—Ow! Why do I need so many new dresses for my wardrobe—Ow! None of these clothes are things I would wear casually."
She sighs. "I suppose we'll have to tell you eventually."
"Tell me what?" I ask, my brow furrowing.
"We're starting a new business venture with the Park family and we thought it would be a good idea to hold a banquet this Tuesday to mark the beginning of our partnership. We haven't seen them in a while, so we figured it would be a good idea to catch up."
The Park family? "Okay, but if it's for the business, then why do I have to go?"
"Their son, Sunghoon, will be in attendance, so we expect you to do the same."
Sunghoon. Just the name alone sends a shiver down my spine. I thought I finally got rid of him after he moved away in middle school, but no. He's finally come back to haunt me.
"U-uh, I have school that day a-and I have a test coming up that I need to study for and—"
"Your father and I think that the opportunity to network and make connections with influential people in the industry will be more beneficial to you than a high school test that you can make up anyway. Besides, don't you want to see your old friend Sunghoon again? I remember how hard you cried after he moved away."
No, Mother, those were tears of joy. My parents have been close friends with the Parks since they attended the same college together, so naturally (and incorrectly), they assumed that their kids would be close as well. Sunghoon got along well with my brother, but he was an absolute menace towards me. He would call me names, steal my things, and talk bad about me to his annoying group of friends. No matter how much I cried to my parents about him, they always gave me the outdated, misogynistic line of "boys will be boys." When his family finally moved away during middle school, I couldn't have been more thrilled, literally crying tears of joy knowing that I would never have to see him ever again. But of course, fate is a cruel mistress, making everything go right for a couple of years before stabbing me in the back with a Sunghoon-shaped knife.
"But mother, I—"
"We're just asking you to attend the banquet for a couple of hours and mingle. Why do you have to make things so difficult?"
A dejected sigh leaves my lips. There's no getting through to her at this rate. At least I have a day to mentally prepare myself before the banquet. Right now, I plan to say hi to him to keep up appearances and then avoid him like the plague for the rest of the event. Piece of cake, right?
My gaze falls to my purse, sitting on a bench a few feet away. A thought plants itself into my head like a seedling, growing and growing into a full-blown idea. Maybe there's a way that I can make this banquet a little more bearable.
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The second we make it into the house, I kick my shoes off by the front door and dash upstairs towards my room, ignoring the calls from my mother to put them away properly. By the time we finished up at the tailor, my phone had somehow died in my purse, making me antsy the whole drive home.
I burst through my room, practically leaping towards the charger.
"Come on, hurry up," I plead, praying that it will somehow make the phone turn on faster. Thankfully, it only takes a few seconds to light up with life. I quickly scroll through my messages, typing up a quick text to the person who will be most vital to plan.
Yuno: Good Morning.
Minji: heyyy! can i call u? i have something important to ask
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Yuno's POV
I stop dead in my tracks, nearly dropping the groceries all over the kitchen floor as I reread Minji's text over and over again. My mind can't help but wander through all the possibilities of why she would want to call me. Maybe it's her mom using Minji's phone to get revenge on me for simply existing. Or maybe she got kidnapped and I'm about to be called to pay for ransom. But why would the kidnappers call me? Maybe she—
"Hello? Earth to Yuno." My dad waves his hand in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts. "I can't have you stand in the middle of the kitchen while I cook dinner," he chuckles.
"A-ah, right. Sorry." I move to put the groceries away, but he stops me.
"I can put the rest of the groceries away. It's clear you would rather be doing something else right now." He gives me a knowing smile as he hands me the bag with my new sweater in it. Right before I head up, I turn to him one more time.
"Um, thanks for taking me to the mall. It was... nice," I say.
He chuckles to himself before waving me off. As soon as I'm in my room, I shoot Minji a quick reply.
Minji: hey! can i call u? i have something important to ask
Yuno: Sure.
An overwhelming wave of suspense hits me, filling my mind with an endless mountain of questions. After a beat, my phone buzzes to life with Minji's name and I quickly swipe to answer her call.
"Hello!"
Her voice rings clearly through the speakers like the soothing sound of a gentle breeze. I'm somewhat glad she didn't ask to talk in person, otherwise, she would see the obvious blush on my face.
"H-hey. Um, what did you want to ask me?"
"Oh right! It's kinda weird, but... Are you doing anything on Tuesday night?"
My heart thumps loudly in my chest. Is she asking me on a...?
"N-no, why?" I can't stop my voice from quivering nervously.
"Well..." She sighs. "It's a bit of a long story, but basically, my parents are holding a banquet for the family business on Tuesday and if you're not busy, I was wondering if you wanted to go... with me."
"A-as your date?" I slap my hand over my mouth, but it's too late. Why couldn't I just think for one second before blurting that out like an idiot? "Sorry, I didn't mean—"
"N-no, it's okay! Um..." She clears her throat. "Technically speaking, I guess you would kinda be my, uh, date."
I don't speak for a long while. I can't. The thought of being Minji's technical date sends me into a long, euphoric spiral. Is this what true happiness feels like?
"Um, hello? Yuno?"
"Yeah, sorry, I'm still here," I croak awkwardly. "Uh, why me? Why not invite any of your other friends?
"There's this guy that's gonna be there and I would really like to avoid him, so I figured I could bring you instead of the girls and maybe he'll... y'know."
My heart sinks a little. "You just want me to be there to scare him off?"
"I... yeah, technically." Her tone turns apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Just forget what I said—"
"I'll go."
Maybe I'm just a hopeless love-stricken fool who's willing to toss away any ounce of self-respect I have left for a girl he likes, but it's not like I'm doing anything interesting on a Tuesday night anyways. Plus, banquets usually have free food, and if Ms. Kim's cooking is any sign of things to come, it'll probably be good.
"I'm sorry if it seems like I'm using you. I just really need a friend to help get me through the banquet," she says.
"Hey, it's fine. You want me to rough him up for you?" I quip. I'd gladly wrestle a bear if she asked me to.
She laughs softly through the phone. "No, nothing like that. I want you there as my friend, not my bodyguard."
"I can do that." I lay back in my bed, staring at the ceiling as I listen to Minji's voice. I can't help but imagine what she must be doing now. Maybe she's hunched over her desk, working on some student council business. Or maybe she's laying down in her own bed, her phone next to her ear as she clutches one of her many teddy bears to her chest. The simple thought of her existing sends my heart into a frenzy.
"Thanks," she utters. "Y'know, it feels like you're always helping me with something and I haven't paid you back at all."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"First, you saved me from that drunk guy in front of the convenience store, and then the spider in the Ferris wheel, and then today with the purse thief, and now I'm asking you to go to a banquet with me because I don't want to see some guy. You're always doing things for me and I haven't done the same for you."
"That's not true," I refute. "The day we first met, you let me, a total stranger, sleep on your couch so I wouldn't have to walk home in the rain."
"Well, I only did that because you offered to walk me home first," she argues. "See, you've done a thousand things for me, and I've only done one thing for you."
"You've... done a lot for me."
"Like what?" she asks, still in disbelief.
"You... listened to me when you didn't have to," I start. "Anybody could've easily disregarded me as just another brute. After all the times I've been stubborn and gotten myself into trouble, you still treated someone like me with kindness and understanding. I guess what I mean is... you're existence itself has helped me more than you realize."
Minji says nothing for a while. As each second of silence passes, I worry if I might have something wrong. Maybe we're not close enough to get this vulnerable and I scared her off. Regardless, I meant every word I said, even if I didn't think I would be saying all of this out loud to her.
"Um, thank you, Yuno," she says after what feels like forever. "That was... really sweet."
"Yeah," I mutter because I have no idea what else to say. "I should probably go, you're probably busy with something—"
"Wait!" Minji interjects. "Not yet. I mean, unless you wanna go?"
Heat rises to my cheeks. "You wanna stay on the call?"
"Um... yeah, if that's okay. I, uh, don't feel like hanging up yet."
I bury my face into a pillow, trying to hide my smile even though I know she's not here to see it. God, Minji Kim, you'll be the death of me one day. The cautious part of me continues to nag at me, telling me that this will go nowhere, that I'm a fool for being hopeful—but I don't care. I want to keep talking to her. I want to keep hearing her voice and thinking about her and being friends with her. Minji is a drug and I'm the hopeless addict looking for his next fix. Even if it hurts me in the end, I'd rather die know her warmth than live in constant fear of getting burned.
I shut my eyes, turning off all my senses just to focus on Minji's voice. "What did you wanna talk about?" I ask.
"Haerin—you remember her, right?" Maybe it's just my imagination, but I can practically hear her smile in every word. "She's been talking my ear off about this club idea that she has..."
"Just try it on!" she says, her voice muffled behind the walls of the changing room.
"I don't know if this'll fit."
"Did you even try it on?"
"Uh…"
I stare at the mocha brown one piece dress Hanni and Hyein picked out—and all I can imagine is what Yuno will think about it. It's cute, but will he like it? Does brown clash with my skin tone? Will he think my arms look weird in it?
A knock comes from the other side of the door. "Haerin found more clothes for you," I hear Danielle say. "I tried to talk her down, but she's persistent."
With a sigh, I put on the dress. My reflection doesn't look half bad. Maybe my arms do feel a tad bit exposed, but it is getting warmer. I could try a jacket, or a cute cardigan, but will my glasses look good with—
Another flurry of knocks. "Minj, hurry up, we wanna see!" Hanni groans.
"Okay, just give me a sec!"
Tentatively, I smooth down the dress before pushing open the door. Four pairs of eyes look back at me in silent judgment. "Well?" I ask. "What's the verdict?"
"It's cute!" Hyein exclaims, clapping like a seal.
"Definitely a change from what you usually wear," Danielle adds. "A good change."
"You think so?" I glance down at the dress, watching how the fabric contorts to my body. "I feel like my arms look kinda awkward, and—augh!"
Haerin dumps a mountain of clothes into my arms, each one with some kind of crazy pattern or feathers where there definitely shouldn't be feathers or way too many metal adornments to be considered clothing.
"Try these on next," she utters flatly.
"M-maybe we can take a break? We've been at it for an hour, I feel like a barbie doll." I nearly collapse from the weight of the clothes. Haerin simply squints at me before walking off without another word, dragging Hyein along with her to no doubt find more clothes. I wonder if this is some weird prank she's pulling or she actually thinks these look good.
"See? I told you it would suit you," Hanni says, marveling at her pick. "And I bet your new boo thang would love it—"
"Hanni!" I clap my hand over her mouth, barely stifling her giggles.
"So, you two are official now?" Danielle asks.
Warmth spreads through my cheeks. "Kinda? We agreed to start things slow and not worry about any labels. Neither of us have any experience in, um, dating, but I'm optimistic."
I can't help but smile at the thought. Is this what those two sweethearts in the art club feel like every day? My heart feels like it's about to explode in the best way possible.
"Oh, to be young and in love," Hanni teases. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you, Minj."
"Me too." Danielle pats my shoulder, and I have to physically restrain myself from bursting into tears of joy.
Suddenly, Hyein comes running back with a panicked look on her face. "Uh, a coat rack fell on Haerin."
"Oh my god, is she okay?!" I exclaim.
"Well, she's not hurt, but she won't get up," she explains. "She said it's too comfy."
Danielle sighs, getting to her feet. "I got her. Lead the way."
The two of them go off to solve the Haerin-related predicament, giving me a break from playing dress up. Between home, school, and now this whole new relationship, it's been a while since I've gotten a moment to myself. Here, I get to feel like everyone else—just a normal girl, hanging out at the mall with her friends.
"You should wear that out," Hanni says, eyeing my dress.
"You think so? I feel kinda… exposed." I wrap my arms around myself, unused to the breeze on my arms.
"Nothing wrong with showing a little skin."
"Hanni."
She giggles. "Just saying, all you wear is jeans and sweaters, and the only time you ever dress up is for your parents' business stuff. Wouldn't it be nice to get all dolled up on your own terms?"
My gaze falls onto a nearby mirror, tracing my reflection. It is a cute dress. I shift in my seat, crossing my legs, brushing my hair over my shoulders—I'll admit it, I look good. Hot, even.
"Alright," I sigh. "I'll wear it out."
Hanni pumps her fist in the air. "Noice!"
I furrow my brow at her. "Since when did you start saying 'noice'?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. Just now. It felt right."
Danielle and Hyein come back, pushing along a smirking Haerin. "We have to leave," Danielle says with the air of a disappointed mother.
"Why? Are they kicking us out?" I ask.
"No, but I'm too embarrassed to show my face in here ever again," she sighs. Haerin's grin only grows wider at the sound.
"Alright, then…" Haerin as usual, I guess.
As we head towards the cash registers, I hear my phone buzz in my bag with a text from my father:
Father: How is the studying going? It's good to see you so focused on your academics.
I type up a quick response and shove my phone back into my bag, pushing down the gnawing feeling I get every time I lie.
Minji: It's going great! I'll be back home by dinner.
What they don't know won't hurt them.
The air in the plaza feels a little colder on my shoulders, but at least for a little while, they feel free of any burden. In this little bubble with my friends, I don't have to be the refined daughter of my parents, or the upstanding student council president—I get to be me without any other mask.
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Yuno's POV
"Sorry," I pinch the bridge of my nose, "explain this to me again?"
Yujin slumps his shoulders, somehow walking backwards without bumping into anyone in the crowded mall.
"Like I said, it's about this college professor that got bit by a radioactive grasshopper, so obviously he gets all the abilities of a grasshopper, like jumping really high and spitting out acid, and naturally, he becomes a superhero called 'The Hopper' and he uses his newfound abilities to fight crime and stop this one villain named 'Prime Ape' from turning the whole world into monkeys, and…"
I shoot a confused look at Winter, who's nodding like she understands everything he's saying. "But why does he want to turn the whole world into monkeys?" she asks. My mind melts into a thick goo as Yujin drones on about evil monkey man and how he thinks 'evolution was a mistake'. Whatever makes the kid happy, I guess.
We arrive at the comic book store, aptly named "Nerd Herd Comics", and the musk of paper and ink fills my nostrils. Rows and rows of comic books line each shelf like a maze of brightly colored drawings. Yujin skips ahead of us, leaving Winter and I to navigate this place by ourselves.
"Did you ever read any comic books, Yuno?" she asks.
I shrug. "Maybe when I was younger. You?"
She grabs a random comic book off the shelf and fingers through the pages. "I have an older cousin that's into superheroes. He'd show me his new collectibles he bought whenever I went to visit." Winter places the book back, a small grin on her face. "It was nice, seeing him so passionate about something. He's pretty quiet most of the time, but it's like his eyes lit up every time he got a chance to talk about his interests."
"Yeah, that does sound nice." I notice Yujin at the corner of the store, getting into a lively discussion with three other guys. At first glance, I wouldn't even think that they were all complete strangers until this point. Even if all this comic book stuff isn't my thing, I'm glad to see how happy he is here.
"Hey, I'm gonna look around for a bit, maybe find a gift for my cousin," Winter says. "Will you be okay by yourself?"
I nod. "I'll live."
As we part ways, I make a beeline straight to the front of the store. Almost immediately as we walked in, my eyes drifted towards it like a magnet—a key chain of a bear wearing headphones. Bears? Music? This practically screams Minji, how could I not get this for her?
"Um, excuse me?"
I feel a tap on my shoulder. "Yeah?" A tall guy built like a twig is eyeing the key chain in my hand. His hair is done up in a greasy ponytail, and the air around him smells violently of fast food.
"Do you know who that is?" he asks with an accusatory finger.
"Uh… The bear?" I turn the key chain over in my hand, wondering if this has sentimental value to him or something. "Uh, no, I don't know."
He scoffs at me, and I already know I'm going to hate this interaction. "Actually, that's DJ Grizz, he's from a niche yet beloved run of comics originating from Australia. Y'know, you should really read through the source material before carelessly buying merchandise of a franchise you know nothing about."
"Alright, dude, I—"
"I actually have the entire first print in mint condition, I would lend it to you, but I don't want to potentially have my collection touched by someone who so blatantly disrespects the work of—"
"Hey, Yuno!" Like an angel come to save me from this greasy Hell, Winter walks up to me, some books tucked under her arm. "Yujin s-said he'll be done soon."
The guy freezes at the sight of Winter and awkwardly wanders off, grumbling under his breath about "females".
"Thanks," I sigh in relief. "I couldn't stand another second of that."
She shoots me a confused look. "Was something going on?"
I shake my head. "Nothing." Better to bury that memory now before it festers.
"Aw, that's cute," she says, pointing at the bear key chain. "Are you going to buy it for Minji?"
"How'd you know?"
"A hunch." She smiles at me knowingly. "I think she'll love it."
"Yeah?" I gaze at the key chain in my palm; we're something now. This key chain will be the first thing I give her as a something.
Yujin reconvenes with us, cradling a large stack of comic books in arms. "I'm done! Those guys over there gave me some great recommendations!" he beams. "Ooh, is that a DJ Grizz key chain?"
I clap his shoulder, ushering him towards the cash registers. "Yeah, sure, can we leave now?" Hopefully, that stack lasts him a lifetime and I never have to step foot in here again.
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The mall food court is probably the closest thing I'll ever experience to an active war zone. Crying babies, a sea of hungry bodies, and barely enough breathing room to take two steps without brushing elbows with a stranger. Somehow, in the midst of the chaos, we manage to snag an empty table.
"I love the hot dogs here!" Yujin yells over the noise, setting down his plate of what looks more like a pile of condiments with a side of hot dogs.
"How can you even eat it like that?" I ask.
He's already mid-bite through his dog, hands and face painted a gross orange. "Ech lick wuh?" he says through a mouth full of food.
"I can grab some napkins," Winter offers, but I stop her.
"I got it. You might get lost in this crowd."
I descend into the sea of bodies once again, going in the vague direction of the napkin dispensers. There has to be rules about this or something, most of the people in my way aren't even in a food line. I swear I passed by that same guy from the comic book store openly discussing the "superior ship" in DJ Grizz with five other people, whatever the hell that means. Couldn't find anyone at Nerd Herd to talk to, so you had to do it in the most inconvenient spot ever?
Finally, I make it to the dispensers, taking a moment to catch my breath—and there, right in front of me, is Minji.
"O-oh. Hi," I mumble.
"Yuno." Her lips curl into a smile as our eyes meet. It feels good to be the reason for that. "Hi. I didn't know you would be here."
"Yujin wanted to check out the comic book store," I explain. "What about you?"
"Just shopping with my friends," she replies.
My eyes can't help but scan the brown dress adorning her body, simple yet elegant. I'm convinced she could wear a table cloth and still look better than most supermodels. I still can't believe that this girl likes me.
"I, um, I like you dress," I say with all the suave of a banana peel.
"Really?" Minji beams with delight, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. "I actually just bought this today. Hanni said I should try dressing up on my own terms, so… that's what I'm doing."
"It suits you," I add, "Like the, um, shape and the color go really well with your, uh…" I gesture vaguely in some lame attempt at trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about.
Despite my poor attempt at flirting, she laughs, and that makes everything feel okay. "Thanks, I think I get what you mean."
My hand falls to my side and I feel a small bump in my pocket—the key chain. "Uh, actually, I have something for you."
"Oh?" Minji tilts her head, watching as I produce the DJ Grizz key chain from my pocket. "Aww, that's so cute!"
"I saw it at the comic book store and it reminded me of you. Cuz you like bears. And music." Our hands touch for a brief moment as I hand it to her, leaving little bolts of electricity in my fingertips.
"This was really sweet of you, Yuno. I love it." She holds my little gift to her chest, right on top of her heart. That awkward interaction with greasy ponytail guy suddenly seems worth it.
"Yeah? I'm glad," I utter, pretending as if my insides aren't shooting off a billion fireworks right now.
"It was nice seeing you here, Yuno." She sighs, her lips forming a cute pout. "I should probably head back to my—"
Suddenly, a screaming kid comes out of nowhere, shoving Minji forward. Before I can think, I step in, my arm looping around her waist to catch her. All at once, the noise of the mall dims to a low hum as I find myself a mere hair's width away from her face. I trace over Minji's familiar features—the soft plump of her lips, the almond shape of her eyes, the rounded point of her nose—mesmerized by how someone could look so perfect.
It wouldn't be too hard to kiss her like this. All I'd have to do is lean in and we'd be back to where we were at the banquet. A small moment of bliss before everything went to shit. But we could reclaim that moment, paint that moment over with something new, something beautiful; our first kiss as a something.
All I'd have to do is lean in.
"Huy, come back here!" An irate mother comes stomping after the child, and the moment is over in an instant. Minji backs away, blushing profusely. Her lips tremble like she's forgotten how to smile.
"I should, um, probably get back to my friends," she stutters, gripping the skirt of her dress.
"Y-yeah, go ahead, uh…" I hastily rip a handful of napkins from the dispenser. "I'll, uh, see you around then?"
"Um, maybe—er, yes! Definitely! I mean—" she shakes her head. "I will see you around. Um, bye!"
"B-bye, Minji."
We scamper off in separate directions. Fuck. I have the grace of a snail on a unicycle. All I had to do was talk like a normal person and I couldn't even do that much. Being a something is harder than I thought.
I toss the crumpled pile of napkins onto the table, a low sigh pushing out of my lungs.
"Are you okay?" Winter asks. "You were gone for a while."
"I, uh, got lost."
The two of them seem to buy my lie and leave it at that. Or, they do know something is up but decide not to push me further. Either way, I'm fine with replaying that little moment in my head again and again while they carry on with their own conversation.
Next time, I'm leaning in.
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Minji's POV
I take another lap around the food court to waste time, cradling the bear keychain in my hands while I replay that moment over and over again in my head—his lips were right there. If only there weren't so many people around, I would've dove into them like a thirsty woman into the ocean.
Jesus Minji, get a grip.
Eventually, I head back to my table, where my extended absence doesn't go unnoticed.
"Are you okay?" Danielle asks, eyeing my tomato red cheeks.
"Oh, uh, it's nothing, just a little warm I guess." I quickly hide the keychain in my bag and dig into my greasy plate of Americanized-Chinese food, hoping they don't prod anymore.
Even still, my heart won't stop pounding in my chest. Those "boy crazy" type characters in those old rom-coms always seemed so silly, but I think I get it now. Yuno has those strong arms and that bad boy thing going on, which I hate to admit is painfully attractive, but then he's also so adorably awkward and his hair gets a little fluffy when it's humid, and—
"Yo, Earth to Minji," Hanni says, waving a hand in front of my face. In my enamored stupor, I neglected to notice the four pairs of eyes staring back at me.
"W-what? Is something on my face?"
"Nothing bad," Hyein reassures, "Just a smile."
"A creepy one," Hanni adds.
I shrug. "The food is just, uh, extra tasty today—"
"She's lying," Haerin interjects. She puts a hand up, grabbing our attention, and sniffs the air for a couple moments. "Yuno is here."
"What?! How did you know—" I slap a hand over my mouth, but it's too late. The girls now see me for who I really am: just another "boy crazy" psychopath. Curse that cute face of his.
"Ha! I knew something was up!" Hanni exclaims with a giddy smile. "Dani, you owe me $20!"
"You were placing bets?"
"You were gone for a while," Danielle says, begrudgingly handing $20 to Hanni. "Hanni insisted that it had something to do with Yuno, and I thought she was crazy, but a broken clock is right twice a day I guess."
"This broken clock has 20 more dollars, fool," Hanni chuckles, flaunting her crisp bill.
"What a nice coincidence!" Hyein says. "What did you guys talk about?"
"Uh, y'know, just said hi and stuff." Among other things. "He's here with his friends so I didn't wanna take up too much of his time. Anyway, if we're done eating, shall we go to karaoke now?"
The mall has this one section dedicated to these Korean style karaoke rooms that look near identical to the ones I would go to with my cousins when I visited Korea. We go there so often that the old man who owns the place knows us by name and even gives us a free 40 minutes every time. The place is usually packed with people, but if we call ahead of time, he'll reserve a room for us without fail. It's practically a second home for me, where I can sing my heart out without worrying about what my parents think.
We barely make it five steps away from our table before Hanni elbows my side. "Look, it's your little boo thang," she says, pointing at the "nice coincidence" that's heading in our direction.
I bite back a grin. "He's here with his friends, I don't wanna bother—"
"Dani!" Yujin comes jumping towards Danielle, a paper bag of comic books swinging wildly in his hand. "I didn't know you would be here too!"
And so, our groups intermingle, and I find myself staring straight into Yuno's eyes again.
"Hello. Again," I utter, my face aching as a smile forms on my lips.
"Hey. Again."
The heat comes back to my cheeks tenfold, but I don't care. Hanni can poke fun at me all she wants; she doesn't have a something as exciting as this going on.
"Where are you guys headed to?" I ask.
"I don't know, I think we're just gonna look around. You?"
"We're going to the karaoke place nearby."
"Oh. Cool." His lips curl slightly, and I have to grip my skirt to keep from pulling him into a kiss. God, where's a mint when you need one? "I don't think I've ever heard you sing before."
"Well…" The thought of singing in front of him is both absolutely terrifying and sickeningly adorable. Is it bad that I've already mentally prepared a set list full of songs dedicated to him? Have I actually gone off the deep end?
"Minji!" Hyein calls out. "Can they come to karaoke with us?"
Yuno and I exchange glances. "I mean, I'd hate to butt into your time—"
"I don't wanna get in the way—"
"—Maybe some other time—"
"—I'm not much of a singer anyway—"
"We'd love to," Winter interjects, breaking us out of our endless cycle.
Yuno clears his throat. "I mean, yeah, it sounds like fun."
"Totally." I feel my heart burst from my chest and soar into the clouds above. Things have been going pretty okay lately. Maybe not the best, but I want to hold onto this little piece of happiness for as long as I can.
Yuno and I straggle behind the rest of the group as they head towards the karaoke place. An electric tension dances in the space between us and I'm not sure if I should move away or get closer.
"Minji," Yuno says. The way my name floats past his lips makes my stomach do a somersault.
"Yes?" His face turn the slightest hint of pink as I turn to look at him. So cute.
"Can I, um…" He reaches a shaky hand towards me, and without hesitating, I lace my fingers with his. The electricity in the air concentrates in between our palms, sending a current that runs back and forth between us. I've never felt this feeling before, but I wish it would last forever.
"Is this what you wanted?" I ask.
"Y-yeah, uh… Thanks," he mutters, not quite able to look at me. I can see his cheeks twitch as he tries and fails to suppress a smile and I can't help but laugh.
"You're very welcome," I say, giving his hand an experimental squeeze. I feel him squeeze back. I squeeze again. He squeezes a little harder. Haerin looks back at us with a blank expression. Oh well. Let her look. Let the whole world see how cute and cheesy I am with my something.
There's nothing that could ruin this perfect day.
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It's been a while, but the karaoke room is just as I remember it: a big TV playing old Kpop music videos, a disco ball overhead bathing the room in a rainbow of colors, a box of tambourines and silly hats in the corner, and a lush velvet couch to collapse on after singing your heart out.
With three new additions to our session, the couch is a little snug. I conveniently get squished up next to Yuno after Hanni makes up some lame excuse about wanting to "stretch first" before singing. Not that I necessarily mind—on the tier list of places I'd want to be, sitting right next to Yuno is pretty high on the list.
"Alright, chumps," Hanni says, grabbing the giant remote for the TV. "Who wants to go first?"
The room stays silent. Yuno, Winter, and Yujin exchange nervous glances, while the others flip through the thick book of songs, trying to decide which one to sing first. Right—they've never been to karaoke before. I suddenly feel bad for derailing their day and making them join us just because I wanted to be around Yuno.
Maybe I should go first and break the ice? But what would I even sing? Something popular that everyone knows? I don't even know what kind of music they like. Maybe Disney? No, that might be too cheesy. A ballad, so I can show off a little? But that might make them more nervous if I do too well. How about—
"Ugh, you guys are taking too long." Hanni types in the code for a song, and all of a sudden, a distorted synth starts blaring from the speakers. 'Bang Bang Bang' by Big Bang—a classic of the mid 2010's. Whether you know the song or not, it'll be stuck in your head for a good week after listening to it.
Hanni grabs the mic and jumps around, turning the small karaoke room into her own personal Coachella stage. The room immediately perks up, with everyone cheering her on and bouncing to the music. Even Yuno and his friends look a little more at ease thanks to her shenanigans.
With Hanni kicking things off, it's not long before we get a queue of songs going. Danielle kills it with Britney Spears, Hyein and Haerin do a cute duet to a Disney song, Yujin sings the opening of his favorite anime in near-perfect Japanese. Hanni even gets Winter to sing, and she surprisingly has a really nice voice. (Seriously, is there anything that girl can't do?)
During it all, I can't help but sneak peeks at Yuno, watching him laugh and smile with everyone else. He looks so happy. This boy that's been through so much, that everyone is afraid of based on rushed assumptions, gets to be really and truly happy for once.
I don't care what anyone else thinks. Yuno is my something and I will protect his happiness as if it were my own.
"Minji!" Hyein yells over the music, shoving the remote in my face. "What song do you wanna sing?"
Yuno glances over at me expectantly. This is it. I have to pick something good. A cheesy love song might be too much. Maybe a ballad, but that might kill the mood. Ugh, I don't know, I need to think about this first.
"I'll be right back," I say to Yuno, "I'm gonna get some water real quick."
Besides the muffled sounds of people singing in the other rooms, the hallways are quiet enough to give me a chance to think about my song choice. This is an important one—not only is this my first time singing in front of people outside of my immediate friend group, but this is the first time I'm singing in front of Yuno. It has to be perfect. I shudder at the thought of my voice cracking in front of him. We haven't even been a something for that long, what if he breaks up with me over my lack of vocal talent?
As I round the corner, I suddenly faceplant into someone's chest.
"Oop, sorry, I—"
"Minji?"
I look up—it's that slimeball again.
"Sunghoon," I grimace, "What are you doing here?"
"Just hanging out with some friends." His tone sounds all light and friendly, as if we weren't fighting just days earlier. "Are you here alone? You should come and join us."
"Actually, I'm with my friends, so—"
"Great!" Sunghoon steps in front of me, blocking my path back to my room. "They can come along too. One of my buddies told me he's been eyeing Hanni lately, maybe you can play cupid and introduce them?"
I can barely contain my disgust. "Ugh, no thank you." I try to leave, but he just gets in the way again. With only one exit, my options of escape are becoming very limited.
"C'mon, don't be like that," he says, flashing that greasy smile. "Are you still upset about what I said before? Look, I'm sorry, okay? I've been really stressed out recently, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Will you forgive me, please?"
Ugh. Everything about him is so fake, even down to his sorry excuse for an apology. Stress? What 'stress' could he possibly be going through right now? He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, his parents coddle him relentlessly and turn a blind eye to how much of a terror he is, and he actually wants to follow in his father's footsteps instead of secretly harboring a dream that would greatly disappoint his parents if they found out about it.
Sunghoon wouldn't know the meaning of stress even if it was written on the palm of his hand.
"Can you please just let me go?" I say.
He chuckles as if this is all just some big joke to him. "Just one song? I'd love to hear you sing—"
Yuno steps out into the hallways and immediately spots me and Sunghoon. The smile he had just moments ago drops as he clenches his fist by his sides.
"Oh. My. God." Sunghoon looks back and forth between us, a creepy grin growing on his face. "You're fucking kidding me."
Without a word, Yuno gets in between Sunghoon and I, pulling me behind him. Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief.
"Holy shit." His eye twitches like a madman. "I actually can't believe it. You two? Seriously? This is all just fucking hilarious, huh?"
I cling onto Yuno's arm, hoping to calm him down before he gets pushed too far.
"Tell me your secret, man." He jabs a finger against Yuno's shoulder. "How'd you bag that? C'mon. Man to man. I can keep a secret, just whisper it into my ear."
Sunghoon's entourage, noticing the commotion, starts pooling into the hallway, and all of a sudden, there's a whole audience here to bear witness Sunghoon's hysterical ramblings. I feel Yuno tense up. Don't. Please don't.
"Let her through," Yuno utters calmly.
"Why? Am I interrupting your little duet here?" Sunghoon laughs to himself. "How about this: why don't you sing us a little song and I'll let you through? That's fair, right? We're at karaoke after all." His entourage chuckles in agreement. Some of them have their phones out, recording this whole interaction as if it'll go viral or something. I'm sick of it. I want to go home.
Yuno tries to step past him, but Sunghoon just gets in the way. "Woah, hold on, we didn't get our song yet. Ah, my bad, maybe you just need a little encouragement!" He starts clapping and hollering, and the other boys follow along like their audience members to a show. People from other rooms begin to peak their heads out, wondering what all the noise is about.
I take Yuno's hand and squeeze it. "Just ignore him," I murmur. His expression doesn't change, but I feel him relax under my touch.
Sunghoon's face darkens at the sight of us holding hands. "You nervous, Yuno? You need someone to hold your fucking hand for you like a god damn fucking baby?" He laughs in his face and tries to push him, but Yuno doesn't budge.
"Move. Please," Yuno mutters.
"Aww, look at that! The gorilla has manners!" Sunghoon's entourage dissolves into a fit of obnoxious laughter. The noise is getting too much. All I wanna do is run away and forget this whole thing ever happened.
Yuno's eyes soften as he looks at me. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before forcefully pushing past Sunghoon.
"Hey, don't be such a fucking buzzkill!" Sunghoon screams after us. "It's not like your fucking drunk of a father is dead yet!"
Both of us freeze in our tracks. Yuno shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from him about keeping my cool, because before I know it, I'm stomping towards Sunghoon with a vengeance.
"What is wrong with you?!" I push him with everything I have. He barely stumbles back, but that flicker of shock in his eyes is enough for me. "Why can't you just leave us alone, you jerk?!"
"Relax, I'm just messing around," he says, flashing that snide smirk of his. "Look at him, you think a couple words could hurt him? Stick and stones, am I right, Yuno?"
I don't believe violence ever being an answer, but I've never wanted to punch someone as much as I do now. "God, you're such—such an asshole!"
"Yo, chill out." One of his friends pushes me back. "Seriously, we're just—AUGH!"
In an instant, the boy crumples to the ground, clutching his now bloody nose. The hallway goes silent as if all the air had been ripped out, leaving nothing but the sound of Yuno's heavy breathing.
The look of death in his eyes makes my spine shiver. He's almost indiscernible to the guy that shyly gave me the bear keychain, or the guy that was smiling with his friends during karaoke.
"Yuno," I mutter, worry in my voice.
A wave of guilt suddenly washes over him as he looks at his hand, dotted red with blood, as if it isn't his own. "S-shit… I—"
"Hey, hey! No fighting!" The owner comes rushing in and grabs the back of Yuno's collar. "All of you, out! Or I call police!"
The audience starts to clamor for the exit, but Sunghoon lingers behind for a moment, relishing in his 'victory'. "I hope you had your fun, Minji. Don't say I didn't try to warn you." He chuckles to himself as he walks off.
"Minji?" Yujin and the others peek out of the room, watching with confusion as the owner drags Yuno away. "What's going on? Did something happen to Yuno?"
"I-I…" I stammer, my mind still reeling from everything that just happened. Right before Yuno gets tossed out, he turns back and mouths one last thing: I'm sorry. "I-I don't—"
"Minji, don't invite bad guy," the owner says, wiping his hands like he just threw out the trash. "Bad guy is bad for business. I don't want to see him again."
"B-but…" But he's not a bad guy. He was just protecting me. He made a mistake.
But the words die in my throat, along with the hope I had for a perfect day.
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Yujin and Winter left shortly after to check on Yuno. I know I should've went with them, but this ball of anxiety that's been festering in my stomach kept yelling at me to get home as soon as possible.
That whole thing was recorded. And knowing Sunghoon, it's only a matter of time before he sends it to my parents. Who knows what they'll do after that. I'm screwed.
Danielle drops me off, but I practically sprint towards the front door, praying for even the smallest chance that I still had time to fix this somehow.
But, it's too late. The grave look on my parents' faces as they wait for me in the living room is answer enough. I gulp and step inside.
"Um, I'm home," I mutter, trying to mask my nervousness.
"Sit down," Father commands. My legs turn to jelly as I sink onto the couch facing him. Mother's gaze stays on the floor, as if she's too disgusted to look at me.
"What is this?" He turns his phone towards me, showing me what I had feared most—the video of Yuno punching that boy in the face. Next to him is me, clear as day. There's no lying out of this one.
"Um…" I suck in a deep breath. "I can explain—"
"I specifically remember you telling us that you would be going to the library to study." His voice is still, but it's enough to make my skin crawl. "This doesn't look like the library, Minji."
"I-I know, I'm sorry, I…" It's impossible to get the words. They're clogged in the back of my throat, choking me slowly and painfully.
"We took pity on that boy, but that was not permission for you to go ahead and fool around with him, let alone lie to us about it!" Mother interjects. "Seriously, Minji, are you even thinking?! He could've seriously hurt Sunghoon, and then what?!"
I gulp. "I-It's not like that, Yuno was just trying to protect me—"
"How can we trust you?" Father's words are like knives to my chest. "You lied to us about where you were going, how do we know that you're not lying about this? How can we know for sure that what you say is the truth? Hm?"
I clam up. The walls start to close in, confining me to where I sit and making it harder to breathe. My heart batters against my ribcage like a prisoner begging to be set free, to be heard by its captors. It has so much to explain, the truth is desperate to be said.
But he's right—how can I be trusted anymore? All these little white lies have compounded up to this point like an Everest of my own hubris. After all this time, did I even need to lie? Would things have been better if I had just been honest from the start? Would my parents have listened if I tried?
"We're pulling you out of Evergreen for the remainder of the year," Father says.
"You—What?!" My whole high school career flashes before my eyes—my friends, my student council experiences, Yuno—all I can do is sit there, frozen, while it's ripped away from me.
"You will be here, in this house, everyday, working with the best tutors we can find," Father continues, his soulless eyes staring back at me. "If you succeed and if you can prove to us that you can be trustworthy, only then will we consider giving you back your privileges."
"But that's—!" That's not life, that's imprisonment! I'd be stuck in here against my will for God knows how long!
"No 'buts', Minji!" Mother all but yells. "You brought this upon yourself! At every turn, you've defied our instructions, and for what? That boy?"
The way she constantly skirts around his name makes my blood boil. His name is Yuno. He's sweet and kind and tries everyday to be better. Despite what life has given him, despite the mistakes he makes, despite what other people think of him, he still tries. And that's more than I can say about my parents.
"We're only doing what's best for you," Father says. "Now, hand over your phone."
"No." It comes out before I can even think to stop it.
Father creases his brow. "Minji."
"No!" This one comes out a little louder. It's too late to go back now. "I-I'm not doing this anymore."
"Minji! You're being childish!" Mother adds. I grip the skirt of my dress and take a deep breath. I need to be heard, even if it kills me.
"I admit it, I lied. I lied about a lot of things, like going to the library when I'm really hanging out with my friends." Their eyes widen and lips twitch like they're revving up to scold me again, but I continue on. "But how can I not lie when you two don't let me have a social life? My entire life has been nothing but academics and being told what I can and can't do. 'Take these classes', 'Don't talk to that person', 'Focus on your studies', it's suffocating."
"Minji," Father huffs as if he's holding back his anger, "A social life at your age is a distraction. How are you expected to be the best when—"
"I don't want to be the best!" It barely registers that I've shot up to my feet. The height is almost dizzying. "I've done anything and everything you two have ever asked of me! My transcript is perfect, I'm ranked first in the entire school, I won the vote for student council president in a landslide! And yet, the second I do something for myself, the second I try to live a normal life, you want to take that away from me?! Are you… insane?!"
I almost regret my choice of words as Mother suddenly towers over me, glaring straight into my soul. Despite my shaky breathing, I don't dare look away. "How dare you?! That is no way to speak to your parents!"
"And you think this is an acceptable way to treat your own daughter?" I bite back. If I'm going down, I'm going down swinging. "Taking away my phone and keeping my locked up in here every day is your idea of good parenting? Thank God you two didn't have a third child!"
A vein pops on my mother's forehead. I fear I may have taken it a little too far. "I-I didn't mean—"
"You…!" She jabs a finger at me, her nail like a blade against my chest. "You ungrateful little—!"
"Enough!" Father pulls her back, keeping her from doing whatever it is that she was going to do. "Minji, go to your room."
I stomp up the stairs and slam the door shut behind me. My body lingers by the door, unable to move towards the comforting safety of my mattress. All I can do is wait.
Wait until the fire leaves my lungs, until the sound of my own thoughts isn't so deafening. By then, the sun had set, clouding my room in shadows. I collapse to the floor and the tears start to fall like a sudden downpour. All the anger and emotions have drained from my body, and all that's left is the heavy weight of exhaustion.
I yelled at my parents. I said some things I shouldn't have. I've likely doomed myself to an even bleaker punishment to the one they already proposed. But at least it's all out of my system. Everything that I've kept bottled inside now stains the walls of this house, unavoidable and inescapable.
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Yuno's POV
"Oh, I know this one!" my dad exclaims, mouth full of the hospital's chocolate pudding. "It's coconut shrimp!"
One of the contestants on the TV buzzes in. "What is 'coconut shrimp'?" she answers. A nice 200 points is added to her score.
"I could totally win if I was on this show," Dad boasts as he shovels the last bits of pudding into his mouth. My cup stays uneaten. Pudding has never really looked that appetizing to me, let alone on today of all days.
"Something on your mind?" he asks.
"Uh… it's nothing." I quickly brush it off. "How're you feeling?"
He sets the empty cup down on his tray and pauses the TV. "Eh, ups and downs, but I'm feeling more up lately. Doctor says I should be good to go by tomorrow," he grins.
"That's good."
"I have to say, I will miss the hospital food. Three warm meals a day, and I don't have to move a muscle? I should get sick more often," he chuckles. "Sorry, bad joke."
I offer him a small chuckle and hand him my untouched pudding cup. "I can cook more at home. If you want."
He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. I like cooking, gives me something to do." Dad tears off the lid and brings a spoonful of pudding to his mouth, but stops. "I used to make lunches for your mom, way back when. She was always so busy with nursing school, and even busier when she first joined her residency program. I'd get all fancy with the recipes, and maybe they didn't always turn out great, but my favorite part was hearing all her notes of what she liked and didn't like."
His eyes turn glassy, but the smile on his face stops any tears from falling. "What did you do when she didn't like what you made?" I ask.
"I mean, it didn't feel great knowing that I made something she didn't end up enjoying," he explains, "but, to her, it wasn't the end result that mattered. She just appreciated the fact that I was putting in the effort to be better, that I truly listened to her notes. I'm no Michelin star chef, but I'd like to think I got the hang of it thanks to her."
The effort to be better. He makes it sound so simple—just do better. But how can I really be better if I keep making these same mistakes over and over again? How do I unlearn the habits I've survived with for years?
My dad gently squeezes my shoulder. "You alright, Yuno?" I meet his eyes, and all the tension I've been holding in leaves my body, dissipating into the air like smoke.
"I just… I feel like no matter how much effort I put into being better, I make one mistake and all that effort is wasted."
He takes a breath, letting my words seep in. "Yuno, I've made more mistakes in this lifetime than you can even imagine. And I can't take back those mistakes, no matter how much I want to," a flash of guilt passes his face, but he continues, "In spite of those mistakes, what keeps pushing me forward is the people around me, the people that I love and care about. I want to be better for them, and yeah, I'll make even more mistakes along the way, but I know that not a single ounce of my effort is being wasted if it's for the people I love."
Man—when did this guy become a philosopher? "Thanks, that's… wow."
My dad chuckles. "I know, right? Can you believe I thought of that just now?"
For once, I let myself laugh freely. There was a time not too long ago when I thought a conversation like this with my dad wouldn't be possible. Even after going through all the shit that fate has thrown at me, the highs like these make it all worth it.
I want to be better—a better son, a better friend, a better something. I'll undoubtedly trip and fall and make a huge mess of things, but if I get to live more days like this with the people I care about it, then I'll strive to be better even if it kills me.
Dad unpauses the TV and goes back to enjoying his pudding. "Y'know, I can change the channel if you want. The catalogue on this thing is endless."
I lay back in my seat, feeling as light as a feather. "It's okay. Things are fine the way they are."
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Minji's POV
I wake up to the afternoon sun poking at my eyelids. My limbs feel like cinderblocks as I try to pull my covers off me.
Unused to waking up so late, my whole body feels downright awful despite the extra hours of sleep. How do people function like this? Half the day is already gone by the time I produce my first coherent thought. After that whole shouting match with my parents, I'm not sure if I even want to do anything.
My phone is full of notifications, but only one catches my eye:
Mother: Your father and I will be out until later tonight.
I scoff audibly. The first time I vocalize my truth and they just want to avoid the consequences completely. I wouldn't be surprised if they all of a sudden have an "emergency business trip" they have to get to and leave me alone for another six months. Maybe I'd finally have some peace of mind that way.
Whatever. There's no use moping around. I leave my phone on my nightstand and grab a hoodie, aiming to wander outside for a couple hours until all my problems are magically solved.
Thankfully, unlike all those cliche movie scenes where it rains furiously after the main character has an already terrible day, the weather is actually pretty nice today. It's hard to be all mopey and depressed when you're underneath a cloudless blue sky and the sun is feeding you vitamin D straight into your skin.
Still, I can't help but linger back on last night's argument. Replaying scenes in my head, thinking up different rebuttals and assuming different responses. It's ultimately futile, but it does reinforce the fact that I finally let them know how I feel. Maybe I could've gone about it in a better way, but what's done is done. I just have to hope that they'll come around eventually.
It would be such a shame if I spent the entire school year stressing about prom, only to be pulled out and imprisoned in my house before I had the chance to enjoy it. I'm sure Hanni and the others would think of some elaborate plan to sneak me out, no doubt involving a body double and a fake pizza delivery. Knowing Hanni, she'd probably find a way to get Yuno to pick me up on horseback like some kind of old fairy tale. I smile at the thought. He would look good on a horse…
Ugh, I shouldn't have left my phone at home. With everything that happened, I haven't had a chance to text him. I need to let him know that none of this is his fault, that I hope he's okay, and—
A pang of hunger hits my stomach, making it rumble like a monster truck. Right—I haven't eaten all day. My need for food unfortunately trumps my need for Yuno as my feet lead me to the nearest convenience store.
As soon as I walk in, I'm greeted with Winter, sweeping the floors.
"Minji!" she says, her eyes lighting up for a moment before noticing my bedraggled state. "Um, are you okay?"
"Eh, I could be better." I wrap an arm around my stomach to keep it from rumbling again. "Starving, actually."
"I just restocked our egg sandwiches if you would like one," she offers. "They're… decent."
"I would love that, honestly." Anything sounds preferable to starvation. "And, uh, Winter?"
She pauses, looking back at me.
"If you have time, do you think we could talk for a bit?"
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Winter was right—these egg sandwiches are decent.
A breeze blows past us as I munch my breakfast/lunch/dinner, which she adamantly gave me for free despite my numerous attempts at paying for it. She doesn't look it, but she's surprisingly stubborn.
"Have you talked to Yuno since yesterday?" I ask.
"Yeah, he explained everything that happened with Sunghoon back at the karaoke place," she says. "I'm sorry we ended up ruining karaoke with your friends."
"No, no, it wasn't your fault at all." I tear a piece of the crust off and squeeze it between my thumb and index finger. "It was that stupid slimeball's fault. Ugh."
"Are you okay?"
"Uh… I think so." I toss the smushed piece of crust into my mouth. It tastes like bread. "I got into an argument with my parents last night."
"Oh, I'm so sorry that happened. It must've been hard," she offers.
"In hindsight, it's probably good that it happened. I finally let them know everything I've been keeping bottled up for years. Still not a great feeling, but I'm… lighter, I guess."
"I've never met your parents, so I can only go off what Yuno has told me. They sound very, uh… strict."
I almost laugh. "That's putting it lightly." I finish off my sandwich and wipe the crumbs off my hands. "After learning that I had lied about going to the library, they threatened to take me out of Evergreen and force me into homeschooling for the rest of the year."
"Oh my god!" she gasps. I forget that other people's parents aren't as comically deranged as mine.
"I don't think they're gonna go through with it now," I say. "They're probably gonna drown in their work as an excuse to distance themselves from me. Tsk. I'm like this because of them. Shouldn't they at least answer for it?"
Winter gives me solace in the form of a soft pat on the shoulder. It feels bad, trauma dumping on her out of the blue, but I'm a broken faucet at this point. I could fill buckets upon buckets worth of repressed childhood trauma and still have more leftover to spare.
"Sorry for throwing all of this on you, Winter," I say, rubbing my palms against my eyes.
"Hey, it's okay," she soothes. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, but I'm more than willing to lend an ear if you need one."
I smile at her. "Thanks. That really means a lot." And to think, I used to be jealous of her. Shame on you, Minji. Shame.
"So, what are you gonna do now?"
"I… am not sure," I sigh, peeling a splinter off of the picnic table.
"How about, what do you want to do?" she asks.
I ponder for a long moment. Rarely do I ever get asked what I want to do. For my whole life, it's been 'do this, do that' without consideration for my own feelings.
"I want to hang out with my friends and have a social life without having to hide it. I want to pursue music without feeling like a disappointment to my parents. And I want to be with Yuno without people inserting their own opinions into our relationship." I face Winter. "Sounds pretty impossible, right?" I utter dryly.
"I think that sounds perfectly possible, Minji," she says with a smile. It's hard not to feel optimistic at that. I take a breath, letting the tension leave my body, and pull her into a hug.
"Thanks for listening, Winter," I murmur.
"Happy I could help."
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Monday comes around. I'm getting ready for school when I hear a knock on my door.
"Breakfast is ready," she says. It's the first thing she's said to me since our argument. I'm not naive enough to expect an apology from them, the utterance of three words like she's reading off a script is more off putting than her usual heat.
When I arrive downstairs, Father is busy taking a call in the living room while Mother tends to the dishes. Neither of them really acknowledge my presence aside from a vague gesture towards the Spanish omelette sitting on the dining table. Fine, be that way. If they don't want to talk, I won't force them.
I pick at my food in silence, unable to stomach my breakfast with all this tense silence. Part of me wants to come out the gate swinging, reigniting our whole shouting match, but I'm just so tired. I—We can't keep on living like this unless something changes.
Somehow, I finish my omelette and place my dishes in the sink. Before I can even attempt to clean them, my mother stops me. "Don't worry about it," she says, "Go, or you'll be late for school."
I take a breath. "Okay."
As I move through the living room towards the front door, I'm stopped again, this time by my father. "Would you like a ride to school? It looks like it might rain," he offers.
I glance outside—light gray clouds are loosely scattered across the sky with patches of pristine blue peaking through. "I think I'll be fine," I dismiss.
"Wait." He rummages through the coat closet and produces an umbrella. "Just in case," he says as he hands it to me.
"Oh. Thank you."
"Have a good day at school, Minji." I can see it written all over his face—remorse.
I nod. "Good bye, Father."
A breath I didn't know I was holding finally escapes my lungs as I step outside. The smell of last night's rain hits my nose. Is it too optimistic to say that it smells like new beginnings? I've known my parents my entire life, experiencing first-hand the rigidity of their ways. It would be foolish to think they can change overnight, maybe even at all. But if they truly cared about me, then they would at least try to be better. I'd like to think that this morning, as awkward as it was, was the first hint of them trying. It's not much, but it's a start.
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I always found it funny how Monday acts as a reset of sorts. Not in a bad way—just odd.
My life practically turned upside down over the weekend, and yet, I still find myself settling into familiar patterns as I walk through campus. Students and teachers greeting me as I walk past, student council members sending me updates, the lighthearted discussions of past weekend activities among friend groups. It's all very grounding—no matter what happens, the Earth will keep turning, so all I can do is make the most out of my time.
As I round the corner towards the student council room, I suddenly freeze—Sunghoon and his parents are heading in the direction of the Principal's office. That slimeball notices me looking and shoots me a smirk that makes me sick to my stomach.
I have to do something. But what? The Parks have never listened to me before when I told them about Sunghoon's wrongdoings, why would they suddenly believe me now? No doubt he's shown them that stupid video by now, conveniently leaving out all the horrible things he said to Yuno.
Dread fills my lungs like smoke, making it hard to breath. How am I supposed to help Yuno?
"Good morning, Minji," Danielle greets. As she notices my expression, her brows furrow with concern. "What happened?"
"Sunghoon and his parents are here," I explain. "I think they're going to get Yuno expelled for the video."
"What? But Yuno didn't even touch him, why would Sunghoon get involved?" she asks.
"Because he's hated Yuno from the start. Because he's hated me from the start." I pace back and forth in frustration, my mind racing for a solution. "Danielle, what do I do?"
"Just breathe, alright?" She ponders for a moment, forehead creased in deep concentration. Suddenly, she whips out her phone and frantically punches in a phone number. "The karaoke room should have security cameras, right?"
"I-I think so."
"If I can convince the owner to send us the footage from that day, we might have a chance keeping Yuno from getting expelled."
There it is—an inkling of hope. "You really think he'll just hand over the footage like that?"
She pats my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry about it. Just let me handle it, okay?"
I take a deep breath, waiting anxiously as the phone rings.
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Yuno's POV
I've witnessed and even gotten used to the iciness that Minji's parents often display towards me, all thinly veiled behind lifeless smiles and passive-aggressive comments. Sunghoon's parents, however, made them look like mere snowflakes next to a raging blizzard.
With back straight and eyes sharpened, the two of them glare at Geier as he watches and re-watches the incriminating video of me punching one of Sunghoon's lackeys. In all my fuckups, I have never seen Geier so speechless as he tries to conjure up some rationale that would keep me from being expelled.
"As you can see here," Mrs. Park speaks, "Yuno Lin blatantly assaulted one of our son's friends. All he wanted to do was enjoy a weekend at the karaoke rooms, and yet, he was attacked for no reason."
I try to defend myself. "It wasn't for no reason—"
"Pray tell, what could have our Sunghoon possibly done that would've warranted such violence?" Mrs. Park shoots back, glaring furiously.
A hint of a smirk catches on Sunghoon's face. I dig my fingernails into my palm to keep me from making another decision I'll regret. "That guy put his hands on Minji—"
"Minji? Sunghoon and Minji are friends, and they have been since they were children. Who are you to police their dynamic?"
Fucking hell. It's impossible to get a word in with this woman.
"Everyone, please," Geier says in a shaky attempt at a soothing tone. "I understand tensions are high, but we need to stay calm in order to keep this conversation productive, alright?"
Mr. Park ignores him, slapping a manila folder onto Geier's desk. "After the incident, we did some digging into Yuno's background and found a long history of school violence. And yet you, as principal of this school, have continued to enable him, thus putting your students in harm's way."
Geier opens his mouth, but no words come out. He doesn't even have to open the folder; he knows that he's right.
"Now, we can do this the hard way and I can sue you for criminal negligence of these students," Mr. Park threatens, "or you can do right by your students and expel Yuno Lin."
A sinking feeling in my stomach eats me up from the inside. All of my mistakes have finally caught up to me, and not even Geier can pull me out of this mess.
Sunghoon did it. He won.
"Wait!"
Minji barges into the room, panting heavily. "Yuno is innocent!"
Mr. and Mrs. Park look at her incredulously; Sunghoon gazes at her in panic.
"What is the meaning of this?" Mrs. Park asks.
"Yeah, Minji." Sunghoon rises up to meet her. "What are you doing here?"
I almost jump out of my seat, but Minji shoves him aside and gives her phone to his parents. "Look. See for yourself the kind of person that your son really is."
"W-wait—!"
On the phone, security camera footage from that day at the karaoke plays, revealing everything that led up to the altercation. Sunghoon stands frozen in shock as all the insults he hurled at me can be heard loud and clear—including the one he said about my dad.
"Sunghoon!" Mrs. Park gasps, unable to fully grasp that her 'pride and joy' could say such horrible things. I bite back a grin seeing Sunghoon stand there like a deer in headlights. They continue watching up until the point where I punched that guy.
"See?" Minji says. "Yuno only stepped in after that guy put his hands on me. I don't agree with what he did, but he was only trying to protect me." She meets my eyes, determination swelling within them.
Mr. and Mrs. Park are rendered speechless, still trying to come to terms to reality. Minji continues, "Sunghoon has been this awful since we were kids. He was nothing but a bully to me, always ripping up my drawings and making fun of me and harassing me to no end."
Minji glares at Sunghoon with that same iciness that her parents aim at me. "Not once has he acted like a real friend towards me."
My spine shivers the same way it did when I first met her parents. I guess it runs in the family.
"Minji dear, I am so sorry," Mrs. Park says, trying to diffuse the situation, "We had no idea—"
"If Sunghoon ever bothers me or my boyfriend—"Boyfriend?"—ever again, I will personally ensure that the partnership between our families falls through."
"No need to make such rash decisions." Mr. Park smiles apologetically before firmly grasping Sunghoon's shoulder. I swear he winces a bit. "We will have a very stern talk with Sunghoon about his behavior. I guarantee that he won't be a nuisance to you or your, um, boyfriend ever again. Now, apologize," he commands Sunghoon.
"I-I'm sorry, Minji," he mutters like a little boy getting scolded. God, I wish I was recording this right now.
Geier clears his throat, reminding everyone that the office is still his. "About Yuno's punishment, he will serve one—no, two months of after school detention where I will personally observe him and make sure that he harms no other student as long as he is in this school," he states.
Mr. and Mrs. Park share a glance at each other before nodding. "We can agree to those terms," Mr. Park says. "Please, excuse us." The two of them drag Sunghoon away, taking away the frigid tension that they had brought with them.
Minji and I look at each other, and smile. Sunghoon is gone. My name is cleared. I'm not expelled. Finally—we won.
"That was, uh… really something, Ms. Kim," Geier says, tossing the manila folder into the trash bin. "So, you two are…?"
"Yeah," Minji says without hesitation. "We are." If Geier wasn't here, I'd kiss her right now.
"That's great." He grins at us, which only makes me feel awkward at the fact that our principal of all people now knows about our relationship. "If you'll excuse us, Ms. Kim, I'd like to speak to Yuno alone for a bit."
"Of course." Minji leaves the room, not before giving me a cute little wave that makes my cheeks swell with a smile. Of course, the smile drops from my face as soon as I'm alone with Geier.
He sits back in his chair, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. I can't help but feel bad for the guy. He's had to deal with me for years and all of it nearly went to shit today. "Uh, I'm sorry about all of that. And for everything that I did before that. Probably wasn't easy dealing with my shi—uh, issues on top of being principal and everything," I utter.
Geier looks at me and snickers. "You've really turned over a new leaf, Yuno. I bet I have Minji to thank for that."
"Uh, yeah probably," I admit sheepishly.
"A woman willing to barge in here and defend you like that is a woman worth keeping around," he says. "Be good to her."
"I, uh, plan on it."
"Good. Now get out of here. I don't wanna see your face until graduation," he says, waving me off.
I start to gather my things, but pause. "What about detention—"
"Just go."
I skip out of his office, catching Minji waiting for me in the hallway. She approaches me, eyes wide with worry.
"What happened? What did he say to you?" she asks.
"Just, uh, y'know, principal things. Nothing bad," I assure her.
She breathes a sigh of relief, sliding down to the floor. "Thank God, I was worried he might've taken back his decision or something."
"He can't get rid of me that easily." I sit down next to her, our shoulders brushing together. "Thanks for saving me back there. You were really cool."
Minji giggles, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. "You should thank Danielle. She's the one who convinced the owner of the karaoke place to send us the footage. She even got you unbanned."
"Danielle? Really?" My brow shoots up in confusion. "I thought she hated me or something."
"Maybe you're more likable than you think," she grins.
Meekly, I offer my hand to her and she takes it, filling in the gaps between my fingers with her own. I squeeze. She squeezes back. I squeeze a little harder. She tries to crush my hand with a smile on her face. This cheesy couple-y shit rules.
"Back there," I say, "you called me your boyfriend."
Minji gazes into my eyes with a softness I've never known. "Yeah, well, you are. Right?"
"Yeah. It just… felt nice to hear you say it." My ears grow warm at the thought. Our something isn't just a something anymore. I'm officially Minji's boyfriend. It's not just a simple change in title. To me, it means everything.
It means I really have to be better now.
"Look, I'm sorry for always dragging you into these messes and for making you worry so much," I murmur. "I promise that I'll do my best to be better. I know I've said it a thousand times already, but I—"
It passes by in just a flash, but the tingling feeling of electricity lingers on my cheek like a tattoo. She kissed my cheek.
"You can make it up to me," the most gorgeous smile dances across her lips, "by taking me out. On a date."
"Y-yeah?" I stutter, still barely processing the kiss. "Uh, w-what do you, um, what do you wanna do?"
"Surprise me," she giggles. "I have to get to class, but I'll talk to you later?"
"Y-yeah, definitely."
Minji skips away, and as soon as she leaves my vision, I collapse onto the ground like a lovestruck pile of goop.
It happened again—you noticed the way the sun hits her just right, making her hair glow with a soft honey brown. The way her cheeks puff like the softest marshmallows when she laughs: a sweet sound you'd record on vinyl and rewind over and over and over again until the notes embed themselves into your ear canal. The way each footstep seems so graceful, carefree, weightless, without fear of ever misstepping.
And yet, you don't even know her name.
It's been a good couple weeks since she first arrived—out of nowhere, like a bolt from the blue, landing into English Lit and uprooting your entire life. New girl introduced herself during your regularly scheduled nap in the back of the classroom ("No worries," you figured, "I'll get her name eventually."), but with each passing day of slowly sinking deeper into a quicksand of infatuation, it's hard not to feel like the world's worst stalker by knowing everything about her except her name.
It started with a simple hunger.
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Ill-prepared as always, you stare through the glass of the vending machine, clutching your empty stomach with one hand and your emptier wallet with the other. The shiny aluminum of the chip bags seems to mock you with their sheen, safe behind the confines of their metal box. Right as you're about to drive your fist into the machine, you hear a voice next to you, so clear and pristine you thought it was your imagination.
"Which one's good?" "Hm?" You find yourself staring at the side profile of what you can only imagine to be an angel in real life—an angel hungry for greasy potato chips.
"Which one's good?" she repeats, turning to face you. "I can't decide."
For a moment, you forget all about the pang of hunger in your stomach as your eyes trace over her soft features. Curiosity or some inane instinct to humiliate yourself, you can't seem to stop staring, even as the seconds crawl by and it's becoming more obvious how much of a creep you must look like.
"Uh, hello?" Mystery girl waves a hand in front of your face, breaking the daze you were in. You figured she'd be running to the nearest police station by now, so the fact that she's still here, and smiling—Christ, what a sight—is either a miracle, or the start of your demise.
"Oh, right, uh," you mutter, "I usually just get salt and vinegar."
"Hmm..."
She ponders your words, bringing a slender finger to her chin as if what flavor she decides on will have some bearing on the fate of the universe—with the way she looks, ethereal and impossibly out of place in this backwater town, it just might.
"They're all the same, y'know," you utter for no particular reason. "Greasy, cheap, always half-empty."
She chuckles, and you feel your chest tighten. "Maybe so. But I'm craving chips today."
You watch as she shoves a crisp dollar bill into the machine and presses the fading blue buttons—the same combination for salt and vinegar chips. The vending machine whirs to life, creaking as if it's on its last breath, and drops one—no, two crinkly bags of chips to the bottom.
"Ooh, nice!" Mystery girl grins at you. Self-centered as it is, you can't help but feel partially responsible for that smile, even if all you did was inadvertently raise her cholesterol. "Here." She pushes one of the bags into your chest.
"For what?"
She shrugs. "Sharing is caring."
"Right, but—"
"Just take it." With a smile like that, how could you say no? You take the small bag of chips from her and stare at—it's the same light blue, with the same old logo and the same feeling of getting ripped off as you weigh it in your palm. Yet, there's something peculiar about it; not bad, just different. Like a Macguffin, or whatever your English Lit teacher called it—the bullet that'll send you falling into the abyss before you notice the trigger being pulled.
"Thanks," you say. "I'll pay you back next time—"
She's gone as quickly as she came.
As the aluminum bag crinkles between your fingers, your hunger is all but gone, replaced by something else. Something you can't quite put to words; something far bigger than you could've ever imagined.
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Then, it was an instinct.
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You dribble the ball against the concrete, eyes focused, knees primed and ready to dash at the first opening. A bead of sweat drips from your chin, but you ignore it—on the court, there's no room for distractions. From all the time you've known him, Min has always been a little taller, a little more muscular, but your skills overshadow any physical advantage he thinks he has.
Impatient as always, he reaches for the ball, only for him to misstep as you weave to the side and drive the ball to the hoop for an easy layup. Min slumps to the ground in utter defeat.
"You suck, man," you joke, offering him a hand.
"Whatever." Annoyed and exhausted, he swats your hand away. "The sun was in my eye that time."
"Was it in your eye the other 20 times I scored?"
"Fuck you," he snaps, making an unsuccessful attempt at kicking your leg before succumbing to the warm concrete underneath him. While he rests, you shut your eyes, feeling the breeze as it brushes past your cheeks. There's a simple joy of a sunny weekend on the court with your best friend—a thoroughly uncomplicated way of living, void of whatever headaches life tends to throw your way.
And then she shows up.
The second you open your eyes, you see her again, walking arm in arm with Chaewon, the resident chatterbox of the school. As usual, she's going off about some drama you don't bother to keep up with, arm gesticulating wildly, while Mystery Girl just nods along like she somehow understands every bit of Chaewon's barely coherent ramblings. Mystery Girl laughs, and you feel your chest tighten like it did before in front of the vending machine.
"Hey, Min," you utter, eyes glued to the pair on the sidewalk.
"Hm?"
"What's that girl's name? The one next to Chaewon."
Min brings his head up just enough to see the two of them in the distance. "Oh, her? I don't know, we don't share any classes. She's hot though," he chuckles.
Something about the way he regards her, like she's just another pretty face, irks you for reasons you can't put to words. You open your mouth to say something, but bite your tongue instead—what would you even say? He's not wrong, but... But what? You barely even know the girl. You don't even know her name.
With a huff, you pick up your basketball and toss it at Min's face.
"Agh! What the hell, man?!" he barks, rubbing his cheek.
"Get up. Let's run it back."
"I don't want to."
"Quit being a bitch and get up!" you say a little too aggressively. You peer cautiously to the side, hoping the girls didn't hear your outburst. Thankfully, Chaewon's loudmouth seems to have covered up for you
"Alright, fine!" Begrudgingly, Min grabs the ball and heads to the three-point line. "I don't even know why you're in such a bad mood, you're not the one who lost..." he mutters under his breath.
He checks the ball to you, starting the game. From behind him, you see Chaewon and Mystery Girl slowly nearing the basketball court. You try to focus on the game, but it gets increasingly harder to ignore the fluttering feel in your stomach that grows with every step she takes. Should you say hi? Give her a nonchalant nod? God, what is her fucking name??
Min rushes to the side, and you barely move in time to block him. He fakes back, sending you tripping to the ground and giving him an easy three-pointer.
"Oooh, get fucked!" he taunts, before shooting from the three-point line with all the grace of an injured deer. The ball ricochets off the rim, flying like a bullet through the air—right towards the girls.
"Shit, look out!" Min calls out. You're already on your feet, making a dash towards them. You fight past the heat, the exhaustion, the pain, each step fueled by this indescribable feeling in your stomach. Chaewon and Mystery Girl give you odd looks as you barrel towards them—who wouldn't be weirded out by a sweaty person sprinting at them?—before noticing the ball sailing right at their faces. Without thinking, you leap forward, swatting the ball away, before hitting the ground with a thud.
A sharp pain shoots through your shoulder like a thousand knives stabbing into your bones. And yet, the first thing you do is check if she's okay.
"Oh my god, are you alright?!" Mystery Girl asks, eyes wide with worry—those soft, round eyes like chewy boba, looking at you. For a moment, not a single word reaches your lips as your mind is too preoccupied by the girl in front of you. She kneels down next to you and inspects your arm, and you forget to breathe, to think, to function, her touch light and feathery against your skin.
"Y-yeah," you mutter, "I think I'm—FUCK!" A jolt of pain hits your shoulder, causing you to collapse back into the grass.
"I'm gonna call an ambulance!" Chaewon exclaims, already taking out her phone. God, this is so embarrassing. All of this because of a stupid basketball. Why do you even play this fucking game?
You sit up, trying to ignore the fact that you can barely move your shoulder. "I-I'm fine, Chaewon, it's just a scratch—"
"BRO!" To make matters worse, Min comes running towards you, getting the attention of the entire park in the process. "Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! How many fingers am I holding up?!"
You slap his hand away from your face in annoyance. "I'm fine! Just a scratch," you lie through gritted teeth.
"Can you move your arm?" Mystery Girl asks.
"U-uh, yeah, I can—" You fight back a groan as another wave of pain ripples beneath your flesh. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to pour down and make you look like even more of a loser than you already do. "I-I just need some ice and I'll be good—"
"The ambulance is on its way!" Chaewon announces. A crowd starts to form around you, the sting of embarrassment hurting you way more than a broken bone ever could.
"Please, I don't need an ambulance—"
Before you can even react, Min scoops you up into his arms like a princess. A wave of mortification washes over you as you meet Mystery Girl's confused expression.
"Dude! What the fuck are you doing?!" With each passing second, your cheeks burn hotter and hotter.
"No time. I'm taking you to the hospital myself." Min starts sprinting in the opposite direction, with you bouncing around in his arms like some poor damsel in distress.
"Put me down, you fucking idio—FUCK!" Your attempts at loosening yourself from his grip only worsen the pain. Mystery Girl's lips part like she wants to say something, but all of it goes unheard under the haze of commotion and the voices in your head calling you a loser. Chaewon and Mystery Girl shrink in the distance, no doubt laughing about how stupid you must look.
All because she showed up.
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Finally: a long-awaited introduction.
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House parties—cesspools of mindless fun and bad decisions, where consequences only exist for tomorrow's self. Hormones are high, shitty alcohol litters the fridge, and cheap disco lights cover the room with a filter that gives you a mild headache; a perfect recipe for nothing life-changing to occur. Surely.
You find yourself in an odd corner of the living room, nursing a red solo cup and recounting the story of your broken arm to a group of people you've never met ("You should see the other guy!" you say; cool, nonchalant, actively-suppressing the memory of Min carrying you in his arms). Deserved or not, you might as well milk as much street cred as you can from this injury.
Eventually, the group disperses naturally and you're left to mingle around the room, shuffling your way through the crowd while trying not to hit your shoulder sling against anyone. You beeline it towards the kitchen to refill your cup—and there she is again.
Mystery Girl, her hair dyed a deep maroon that's just barely noticeable over the colored lights, talking to some guy you haven't seen before. That usual carefree look on her face is jarringly absent, replaced by a look that's all gray clouds before a storm. Some voice in the back of your mind tells you to intervene—go, be the hero and save the girl!—but from the desperation on the dude's face and the unwavering stoicism in hers, it seems like she has everything under control. Without a second glance at her, you refill your cup and head outside for some fresh air.
The chilly night breeze is sobering against your warm cheeks, reddened by the cheap booze in your system. Some stragglers linger outside the house, passing around a joint or invading each other's personal space. You find an empty spot around the side, just outside the range of the dingy streetlights, the cold brick walls pressing up against your back.
At one point or another, the novelty of a house party wears off and you're left wondering why you ever attend these things in the first place. Min never comes, always making the excuse of "alcohol ruining his physique," so you have no other choice but to tough these things out alone in search of a purpose. Are you trying to find a hookup? To feel like you belong? Some societal pressure that pushes you into following the herd? Hard to say. Maybe all of the above.
The sound of crunching grass nears the corner, and you brace yourself for the stoner asking for a light or the rowdy couple that couldn't find a vacant bedroom inside. Instead, you get a voice:
"Oh, it's you."
Like a magnet, your eyes snap towards the owner of that voice. Your chest tightens as Mystery Girl joins you on the wall, that charming smile aimed right at you.
"Hey," you greet her, the warmth on your cheeks from something more than just the booze.
"I saw you in the kitchen earlier," she remarks. "I thought you'd come say hi, but then you just left."
"Oh, right." She saw you? And she wanted you to say hi? "I didn't want to disturb your, uh... friend?"
She sighs, leaning her head back against the wall. "My ex. I didn't even know he'd be here."
"Oh. Bad break up?"
"You could say that." Her gaze drops to the floor and her smile fades soon after.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It's alright, not your fault," she reassures you, meeting your eyes. "He dumped me out of nowhere a couple months ago. Turns out he was cheating and got the girl pregnant."
"Yikes. That sucks."
"Eh," she shrugs, "I've made peace with it. He found out today that the kid's not even his and now he wants me back."
Your jaw drops. "What the fuck?! That's crazy. You're not gonna take him back, are you?"
Mystery Girl chuckles at the thought. "Hell no! No way am I dating that slime ball again!"
The two of you share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. She looks up at the sky, a blank sheet of indigo thanks to all the light pollution, and you follow her gaze because what the hell else are you supposed to do? As you stand here, just barely brushing shoulders with this girl you barely know, all the shitty beers and awkward encounters from every party you've been to all seem worth it. This could be the start of something bigger, or just a brief and fleeting moment in your lifetime; whatever it is, you want to hold it close to your chest until it's gone.
"So," she utters, breaking the silence, "how's your arm?"
"This ol' thing?" You raise up your sling as high as your shoulder will allow you. "Doesn't even hurt."
"Wow, you're so tough and macho," she quips, rolling her eyes playfully. "Thanks, by the way."
"For what?"
"For jumping in front of the ball so I didn't get hit. It was... cool."
"Cool?" You raise a brow at her. "Did I look cool when I was being carried away like a princess?"
She giggles—you've never loved a sound more. "Hey, princesses can be cool too! Like, Mulan and that red-head with the bow."
Now it's your turn to giggle. "Okay yeah, but all I did was dive after a stupid ball and—"
"Oh shit!" Suddenly, Mystery Girl pins you against the wall, hands snaked behind your neck and her face close enough to see your reflection in your eyes.
"W-what are you—"
"Just shut up for a second!" she hisses. Her eyes immediately soften. "Please?"
Unable to think properly, you stay frozen in that position, one spontaneous decision away from a kiss. The alcohol has all but flushed out of your system, replaced with this lingering heat in your chest. Every passing second feels like an eternity, an eternity that you're not sure you want to leave for fear of what would happen next. But, like all good things, this moment comes to an end as she pulls away.
"Phew," she sighs, "sorry about that. I thought I saw my ex walking past and just, uh, y'know..."
"Y-yeah, no worries, um..." The tension in the air thickens, and you worry that the darkness isn't enough to hide the burning red of your cheeks.
Thankfully, the awkward silence doesn't last for long as Chaewon rounds the corner.
"There you are, Sakura!" So that's her name. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Oh, hey," Chaewon says, offering you a brief nod.
"Why? Is something wrong?" Mystery Gir—er, Sakura asks.
Chaewon sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "It's a long story. Can we leave? I want a pizza." As if finally realizing your presence, Chaewon suddenly straightens up, eyes squinted as she looks back and forth between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"
"N-no, nothing!"
"W-we're just talking and, uh—"
"I was just getting some fresh air and bumped into him—"
"I was actually just about to leave, so—"
"Alright, alright, damn!" Chaewon exclaims, causing the both of you to clam up. "Anyways, can we go now?"
Sakura looks back at you, a look of uncertainty in her eyes. You give her a nod. "Uh, yeah sure, we can leave," she says.
"Cool, I'll call us an uber. I'll let you two finish whatever the hell this is." Chaewon stomps off, leaving the two of you to... finish?
"Um—"
"So—"
The two of you share a chuckle, relieving some of the tension. "You can go first," you offer.
"Right." She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and you swear your heart stops beating for a whole second. "Um, sorry about earlier. I swear I'm not usually like that. I just saw my ex and I sorta panicked and, uh, yeah."
"Like I said, no worries. Shit happens."
Sakura meets your eyes—the tingling feeling in your chest explodes, reaching to all the corners of your being until every cell buzzes with pure electricity. Something about the way her eyes peer at you, the way her lips smile at you, the way her touch still lingers on your nape makes you want to run away and never look back.
You must've been staring for too long as the sound of Sakura's soft laughter breaks you out of your spell. "Do you have a staring problem or something?" she teases.
"Yes. No. Maybe?"
"You're strange." She starts to walk back, each step slow and playful, like she doesn't want to leave quite yet. "I'll see you around?"
"Yeah." You smile back at her. "Definitely."
You watch as her silhouette disappears around the corner, and you stay watching long after she's hoping, slightly hoping that she'll pop back, even if it's just for a brief moment.
Sakura—the first coming of Spring.
Like pink petals littering the roads, remnants of her will be present in everything around you—your ears will hear the sound of her laughter where her voice is absent, your eyes will look for her face in every crowd, your mind will be filled to the brim with all of her moments—whether you like it or not.
Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission! If you would like to purchase a commission of your own, or you simply want to leave a tip, head over to this page!
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Somehow, despite this strange man you’ve never met before snaking his hands through your shirt, all you can think about is what you’re going to say to her. Will a simple “hello” suffice? Should you open with an old inside joke? A cliche “long time, no see”? Will she even remember you after all these years?
“Dude,” the strange man mutters, his deadpan eyes staring at you but not quite looking at you.
“O-oh, sorry. Were you saying something?” you ask nervously.
“I need you to speak into the mic to check if it’s working properly,” he says, pointing at the collar of your shirt.
You peer down and notice a black fuzzy ball sticking out from your collar. If he hadn’t pointed it out to you beforehand, you would have definitely jumped and made yourself look like an even bigger fool than you probably already do. “R-right. Uh, hello? One, two, three, testing?”
He looks back at a man some distance away, fiddling with knobs on a small black box as he listens to your audio through his chunky headphones. A tense moment passes before he flashes a thumbs up in your direction.
“All right, you’re all good,” he utters before walking off without another word, leaving you completely stranded amidst this flurry of chaos. Screaming children running around, the distant rumble of roller coasters, a food stand selling trendy overpriced products every two steps—normal things you would see at an amusement park. What’s not normal is the couple dozen people around you handling all kinds of expensive-looking camera and audio equipment. If you had to bet, the fuzzy little ball clipped to your collar probably costs more than your rent.
You had no idea what you were getting into when you first signed up for that fan event. Winning a chance to film a variety show with a member of IVE seemed too good to be true, but after you found out that you would be filming it with her, entering the event was a no-brainer. By some stroke of luck, you’re now here in the middle of an amusement park, all but abandoned while jolly children’s songs and the incessant beeping of walkie-talkies makes it difficult to hear yourself think.
“Hey you!” A booming voice somehow cuts through all the noise, and you suddenly find yourself face to face with another man you’ve never met before. Unlike everyone else, however, he seems much more relaxed, even happy to be here. Despite his bulging muscles barely contained in his Hawaiian shirt, his steps are lightweight and peppy compared to the scrambling of footsteps of his subordinates, and the wrinkles outlining his wide smile are a testament to his years of experience in… whatever it is that he does.
You let out a sigh of relief as his demeanor puts you at ease in an instant. “Hello, sir,” you greet him.
He forcefully takes your hand into a firm handshake, almost jerking your arm out of its socket. “I’m Mr. Park, I’m the production director of today’s shoot!” he says, his voice loud and boisterous. “You must be our star for today!”
“I-I wouldn’t say that,” you mutter bashfully.
“Nonsense!” he guffaws. “I just wanna give you a quick little rundown of what we’re gonna be filming today. Basically, you’re just gonna go around the amusement park, hang out and talk with the idol, maybe even flirt a bit, y’know, play it up for the cameras.” Mr. Park punctuates his explanation with a hearty chuckle and a friendly elbow to your rib. What a guy.
“Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that—”
Suddenly, he pulls you close, donning a deathly serious expression that sends a chill down your spine. “If you do anything to ruin today’s shoot, I have a six foot hole in the middle of the woods with your name on it, if you catch my drift.”
Before you even have time to process what he said, Mr. Park walks off like nothing happened, his pearly whites gleaming as if he didn’t just threaten to end you moments before. You figured there would be some oddballs in this industry, but you didn’t expect it to be this insane. If things are like this after barely an hour here, you can only imagine what her daily life is like.
“There she is!” You hear Mr. Park’s voice in the distance as a group of burly men all clad in black approaches the set. Judging by their appearance, you can tell that they’re bodyguards, which means the person their protecting is—
“Hello, Mr. Park! It’s nice to see you again!” The two bodyguards at the front part, giving way for Gaeul to walk through and shake hands with Mr. Park. Your breath catches in your throat at the mere sight of her and all the greetings you’ve rehearsed in your head all morning flutter away like butterflies.
You suddenly feel like a little kid again, waiting at her front door so the two of you can go look for frogs or build a castle out of anything you could find in the forest near your houses. Before she was Gaeul, one of the stars of IVE and adored by billions of people around the world, she was simply Gaeul, your best friend that was never afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of adventure. She was the girl that made your world feel a little less lonely.
And yet, despite her being right in front of you for the first time in years, the distance between you has never felt so far.
As Gaeul and Mr. Park approaches you, you inhale a shaky breath, trying your best to calm your nerves.
“...and this gentleman over here,” Mr. Park explains as he gestures towards you, “is the lucky fan who you’ll be spending the day with!”
You catch her eyes, and for a moment, everything around you seems to vanish. You know deep in your gut that it’s her, but she looks so… beautiful. Instead of the oversized hand-me-downs from her brother, she’s wearing clothes that actually fit her properly—a flower top, a pink cardigan, and a frilly black skirt that shows off her legs in a way that baggy cargo shorts never could. Her hair and makeup is perfectly and meticulously done up, you would mistake her for a doll if you walked by her too fast. Every trace of the Gaeul you once knew is gone—except for her eyes and the way they still light up when they meet yours.
“H-hi,” you stutter, extending a trembling hand towards her. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”
She pauses, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at your eyes. A smile creeps up on her glossy lips, and then the scent of strawberry shampoo assaults your senses in the most pleasant way possible as she wraps her arms around your neck in a warm embrace.
“It’s nice to see you again, small fry,” she says softly.
In a past life, you would’ve been annoyed by that silly little nickname—it’s not your fault that your growth spurt hit you later than hers did—but hearing it after so long fills you with an immense amount of happiness that you can’t quite describe. She still remembers you.
“Ehem,” Mr. Park clears his throat, reminding you of the involuntary audience witnessing your reunion. With heat racing towards your cheeks, you reluctantly free Gaeul from your arms. “Do, uh, do you two know each other?”
“He was my best friend back in middle school before I became a trainee,” she explains, beaming. ”We were inseparable back then.”
Mr. Park approaches you, his expression growing dark just like it did before. “Kid…” he mumbles, his voice low. Suddenly, he grabs onto your shoulder with a vice-like grip and lifts you off the ground until your legs are dangling helplessly in the air.
“U-uh, Mr. Park? W-what are you—”
“You. Are. A. Godsend!” he exclaims, now back to his cheery self. “This’ll be great for ratings! I can see the headlines now: ‘IVE Gaeul’s unlikely reunion with an old friend!’ If I wasn’t happily married to my wife of seven years, I would kiss you right now!” Finally, he drops you back on your feet and hurriedly struts away, yelling at the staff members. “Let’s get this show on the road, folks! Time is money and I don’t wanna lose a single penny!”
Gaeul pats your shoulder, not even trying to stifle a laugh at your bewildered expression. “Are you alright? Mr. Park has a few screws loose, but I promise you he’s nice.”
Her touch immediately puts you at ease as you let out a chuckle of your own. “Well, my dignity is at an all time low, but what’s new?”
If you had to embarrass yourself in front of a member of IVE, at least it’s the one that’s already seen you at your absolute worst. Like no time has passed at all, the two of you slip back into comfortable patterns of banter. There’s so much you want to tell her. Milestones she missed, horrific first dates, and a plethora of other Gaeul-less memories that you know she’ll tease you for.
“I still can’t believe it’s you, small fry,” she says. “You look great.”
“I’m not sure if you can call me that anymore,” you playfully shoot back. Getting your growth spurt before she went off to be an idol would’ve saved you a childhood of torment by her hand, but hey, better late than never.
“Oh whatever, I’ll call you whatever I damn want to.”
With a smirk, she walks off as Mr. Park calls on the two of you to get ready for filming. You always imagined your reunion to be a little more peaceful, maybe on a random chilly evening at a coffee shop, but the specifics don’t matter to you. What matters is that Gaeul is finally here, right in front of you.
You can finally do what you failed to do back in middle school.
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You’re wise enough to know that not everything you see on these kinds of shows is real, but you never realized just how scripted it all is. From the activities you do to the things you say, you feel more like a robot following commands than a regular person spending the day at an amusement park. Gaeul takes everything in stride, seemingly used to this kind of environment, but not having the freedom to properly speak to Gaeul leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
“Listen up, you two!” Mr. Park calls out from behind the camera. “You’re gonna look through the gift shop, try some things on, give a few compliments, big reactions y’know, really play it up for the camera and whatnot. Oh, and Gaeul?”
“Yes?” She tilts her head.
“Keep calling him that little nickname, uh ‘teeny fry’ or whatever it is.”
She cracks a little smirk in your direction. “Sure thing, Mr. Park.”
You sigh, masking your dismay with a neutral expression. “Why are we going to the gift shop first? Isn’t this what people do last?” you ask Gaeul.
She responds with a simple shrug. “I’ve learned not to question things and just go with the flow.”
“Huh?” You dramatically gasp in faux shock. “Are you sure you’re the Gaeul I know? Because I’m pretty sure I remember you annoying the substitute teacher with questions about frogs until they stormed out in the middle of class.”
“That’s different!” she exclaims. “Besides, that was so long ago, I’m basically a different person now.”
“Yeah, I noticed. You actually dress like a girl now.”
“Oh my god, don’t even remind me!” Her cheeks turn a cherry red as memories of her tragic middle school fashion choices come back to haunt her. “It’s a miracle that I even got casted in the first place looking like that.”
You let out a laugh. “You look good now though. Seriously.”
“Just good?” Gaeul says, offended. She steps back and gives you a little twirl, showcasing her entire outfit in all its glory. “Last time you saw me, I was wearing my brother’s old cargo shorts, and you’re telling me that I only look good?!”
“I-I didn’t— I mean…” There’s so many things you want to say, words and phrases rehearsed over years of imagining what your reunion would be like. Finally, you have the opportunity to say it out loud to her face. So just say it.
“Y-you look bea—”
“ALRIGHT, PLACES EVERYBODY!!!’ Mr. Park shouts. Before you can finish your thought, Gaeul hurries to her spot where the director told the two of you to start. You shake your head, coming to your senses and following her to your spot. Not great timing, but there will be other chances later.
Once the cameras start rolling, the two of you enter the gift shop, looking around at all the overpriced products the shop has to offer. T-shirts, headbands, hats, mini figurines of the amusement park’s mascot, just about anything a child could want and a parent would dread to buy. Like Mr. Park instructed, you do your best to give off big reactions, but frankly, this place is the least exciting part about going to an amusement park. Gaeul, on the other hand, plays it off like a true professional.
“Wow, look at this place!” she exclaims, her voice an octave higher than her regular speaking voice. “Oh my gosh, everything is so cute!”
“Y-yeah, wow! So cute!” you awkwardly parrot. Thankfully, the cameras are mainly following Gaeul, so your poor attempts at acting go unnoticed by the crew.
Gaeul takes one of the shirts off the hangers and puts it to your chest. “What do you think about this shirt, small fry? I’ll buy it for you if you want!” she says, punctuating her statement with a wink.
You chuckle in an attempt to hide the heat creeping up your face. “I’d rather launch myself into the sun than wear that ugly shirt,” you quip.
“CUT!” Mr. Park barks. “Hey kid, the park is allowing us to film here for a discounted fee, so maybe don’t talk bad about their merchandise.”
“A-ah… Right, sorry…”
Gaeul stifles a chuckle, putting the shirt back on the hanger. “It’s okay, they can just edit that part out,” she says in an attempt to console you. Unlike seconds before, her voice is back down to her usual tone.
“Uh, why are you doing that thing with your voice?” you ask.
“What thing?” She stares at you with a curious expression, one that holds not even a hint of joking.
“Uh… Nevermind.” Like she said, learn not to question things.
“Alright, let’s try this again, without the sass this time,” Mr. Park says, gesturing specifically to you. “Action!”
In an instant, Gaeul springs back into her idol persona, cheerfully skipping through each aisle and pointing out every little thing. “I wish I could buy everything in the store!”
“You probably could with your net worth,” you instinctively joke. Remembering what happened before, your eyes peer carefully towards Mr. Park, who thankfully smirks at your little jest. Relieved, you decide to do what he said before and try some “flirting”.
You grab a frog headband from one of the shelves and hand it to Gaeul. “Why don’t you try this on? I think it would look cute on you.” Something about talking to her this way leaves an odd, warm feeling in your stomach. Not bad, per se, but different.
She takes the headband from you and tries it on. “What do you think, small fry?” she asks, posing more for the cameras than for you. “Am I stealing your heart with this look?
A rush of heat floods your head at her idol fan service. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her do this kind of thing, but there’s a huge difference in seeing it through a screen and seeing it in person, directed right at you. You thought you would cringe or laugh, but you’re not even sure how to react anymore with the pounding of your heart in your ears.
“U-uh, sure, yeah, whatever…” you mutter. You expected a witty comeback from her, poking fun at your barely coherent mumblings, but instead, you feel Gaeul’s arm link with yours as she pulls you towards one of the mirrors hanging on the walls. In all the confusion, she somehow managed to put a dog headband on your head.
“Ah, we look so cute!” she exclaims, her high-pitched voice ringing in your ears.
You stare back at the reflection, forgetting all about the cameras as you take in every single detail. Gaeul linking her arms with yours, smiling at you with that silly little frog headband on. It’s almost as if you’re looking into a portal to an alternate universe where Gaeul never moved away. Where the two of you ended up as a… couple.
That warm feeling fills your stomach at the thought—but this time, it’s mixed with guilt. Gaeul never accomplished her dreams in that universe, and for what? Sure, you get more time with her and grow up alongside her, but she doesn’t become that big star that she always dreamed about being. There’s no point in clinging onto “what if’s”. Life played out like this and now you have to accept it.
“Hey.” Gaeul nudges your side, her voice back down to its usual octave. Her eyes gaze at you with worry. “You alright? Mr. Park yelled ‘cut’ a minute ago.”
You shake your head, ridding yourself of stray thoughts. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Being in front of cameras has got me a little nervous, I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it, you’re doing great. Nice job playing it up for the cameras,” she compliments before walking off to the next filming location.
Yeah… Just for the cameras…
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The ferris wheel stands high and mighty, casting long shadows on the park grounds. It is the quintessential amusement park ride that everyone loves, including you. Stuck in a small, cramped box high in the sky, with a perfect view of the setting sun, it’s all so… romantic.
Scratch that thought from your mind. You’re not here for any ulterior motives other than filming this show and catching up with an old friend. That’s it. Nothing else.
“So, obviously we can’t fit an entire camera crew in one of those boxes, so we went ahead and fitted it with some cameras and mics to properly capture everything,” Mr. Park explains to you and Gaeul. “Just do what I said—act natural, big reactions—and everything should be smooth sailing from here.” Sounds contradictory, but you’re not about to talk back to a guy that threatened to bury you deep in the woods.
After he finishes explaining, the ride attendant helps you and Gaeul into the ride, and you begin your ascent into the sky. It feels like cruel irony, finally getting the chance to spend alone time with Gaeul, but not actually getting to spend alone time with her.
With a sigh, you muster up the biggest fake smile you can and start to act. “Wow, ferris wheels are so fun, I can’t wait to—”
“You can drop the act now,” Gaeul chuckles.
Your head tilts in curiosity. “What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Park say that—”
“I convinced some of the crew to turn off the cameras this time around,” she explains. “We’ll have to ride again and play up the reactions, but for this time at least, we can just talk.”
You let out a sigh of relief and slump back into your seat. Finally. “Thank God for your influence, I don’t know if I could keep up the acting.”
She smiles, mimicking your movements and lazing against the seat across from you. “Yeah, that’s probably one of the things I like least about this job.”
“Man, it must be tiring putting on a mask every single day for the cameras.”
She shrugs. “It could be worse. At least I get to do this with you, small fry.” Gaeul flashes a bright smile at you, and unlike the smile she dons while the cameras are rolling, you can feel the genuine warmth travel from across the booth. “So, have you been after all this time? I’m sure you have a bunch of stories from the years we’ve been apart.”
“So many,” you reply. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about high school? I never got to properly experience it for myself, y’know.”
“Right, wow, okay.” You sit up, barely able to contain your excitement at the chance to properly talk about things with her. “So, freshman year, I—”
“Is that the first one?”
“Yeah, it’s the first one,” you answer, chuckling at her curious expression. “So, freshman year, it’s a new school, whole bunch of new people, and obviously you weren’t around anymore, so I decided to join a school club.”
“Wow, really? You were basically attached to my hip all throughout middle school, I never thought you’d actually go out of your way to join a club,” she teases. “What club was it?”
“It was, uh…” You clear your throat, suddenly feeling very embarrassed under her gaze. “...the esports club.” You brace yourself for the incoming barrage of mockery and laughter, but instead, you’re met with Gaeul’s eyes brightening with awe.
“That makes so much sense, you always were good at video games!” she compliments. “How was it, were you any good?”
With your ego now inflated, you smirk and cross your arms. “Not to brag, but I did carry my team to 2nd place of the state championships,” you boast.
“Hey, that’s amazing!”
You can hear it in her voice, plain as day, that there’s not a hint of sarcasm or malice behind her words—she’s genuinely impressed by your silly little esports accolades. Being part of that club did little to boost your popularity and only served to make you the target of some bullying, but it was also some of your most cherished memories from high school. When you felt lost navigating that new environment without Gaeul, that club was the only thing keeping you together.
“Oh, I have to ask—what were school dances like?” Gaeul inquires, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.
You let out a heavy sigh as you think about all the bad experiences at each school dance. If the esports club was the highest high of your high school days, then school dances were your lowest lows.
“They were… not great. For me, at least. I was probably an outlier for that kind of thing,” you mutter, sinking back into your seat as the weight of those awful experiences pulls you down.
“Oh… sorry,” Gaeul says, your gaze drifting to the side. “Why, did you have a bad date or something?”
“I had no date, Gaeul. I was in the esports club,” you clarify. “Besides, I never bothered trying to ask out a girl during high school anyways.”
“Why not? You’re a nice guy, I’m sure any girl would’ve been lucky to go out with you!” she exclaims.
You chuckle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to ask to a school dance.”
“Really? Not a single person you had a crush on?” She leans into you with curiosity, not realizing the proximity of your faces. You can see every single detail of the visage that you grew up with, analyzing how much has changed and yet still stayed the same. Those big, round eyes that light up when you mention frogs or crack a clever joke. The puff of her cheeks every time she tries—and fails—to hold in a laugh. The curve of her pretty lips whenever she calls you “small fry”. Remnants of your childhood together, still visible on the face you haven’t stopped thinking about ever since she left.
You lean back in your seat, the lack of space becoming too overwhelming. “I-I, um…”
“Aha! You did have a crush on someone!” she shouts excitedly. “Who was it? You better tell me their name, or else!”
“U-uh, h-her name? Um… Uh… A-autumn,” you sputter out nervously, too frazzled to think straight. Great job, you idiot. ‘Autumn”? Now she’s gonna know that you have a crush on—
“What a pretty name! Was she cute?”
“Huh?” Dumbfounded, you decide to take it and roll with it. “Uh, I mean, yeah, she was cute.”
“What was she like?”
“She was…” You pause, collecting your thoughts. The ferris wheel nears its peak as rays of sunset peek through the window, lighting up your carriage with an evening glow. “She was unimaginably amazing. She was strong and confident and determined and never let anyone’s words affect her. Whatever she wanted to accomplish, she could do it and make it look easy. She was also incredibly kind and hilarious and curious about the world around her, always asking questions with this admirable crave for more knowledge. And she was…”
At last, your carriage is lifted to the highest point of the ferris wheel. Like a spotlight, the setting sun projects the last of its light onto Gaeul’s face, illuminating her like the star that she was born to be. Mother nature paints her with the most beautiful shades of golden brown, casting an aura that only you get the luxury of seeing.
“...she’s beautiful.”
“Wow,” Gaeul breathes. The light from the sunset fades as it falls behind the horizon, yet Gaeul continues to glow with an aura that only you can see. “You must have really liked her, huh?”
“Y-yeah, I did…” you utter softly. “...but it was never gonna work out. She had big things planned, and I was always too nervous to ask her out anyways, so… it’s whatever.”
“That sucks.” She leans her head against the window and takes a deep breath. The excitement she held in her expression earlier disappears, revealing something more real, more vulnerable. “I’m actually kinda jealous of you, y’know.”
“Really? Why?”
She sighs. “I never got to experience any of that for myself—clubs, dances, crushes… all of it. Once I became a trainee, every single day was dedicated to training, with barely any time for fun or enjoyment or a social life. Some days, we’d barely even have time to eat or sleep.”
You always saw Gaeul as this bright ball of energy, even when she was on your screen as IVE’s Gaeul. To see her like this is something else entirely.
“When things were the hardest, I’d think about you,” she says, a melancholic grin growing on her lips. “I’d think about all the fun adventures we had and imagine all the new adventures we could’ve had. I wondered what you were doing, if you were even thinking about me…”
Every single day.
“I’d pray that when I wake up the next morning, I would be back in my old bedroom and you would be waiting outside my door like you always did, and then we’d run off to the forest and do whatever we wanted. No expectations, no late nights, just pure freedom.”
The urge to comfort her makes your heart ache. You want to hold her in your arms and tell her what you really feel. Tell her that the day she left was the day that your entire world came crashing down. Tell her to take your hand and run away with you, live the life that you’ve been dreaming of since you were kids. Tell her how much she means to you and that you never want to be away from her again.
But you don’t. You bite your tongue, suppressing all the feelings threatening to bubble up. She worked hard to get where she is, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the dream she’s been talking about since the two of you were kids. You’re not going to ruin that for her just for your own selfish reasons.
“On the bright side, look where you are now!” you say in an attempt to cheer her up. “World famous Kpop star, loved by billions all over the world. A-and I turned out okay too, so, y’know… Everything is good.” Despite your attempt to sound cheerful, the weight of your true feelings seeps into your words. The carriage fills with a heavy tension that hangs in the air.
“Yeah,” she mutters, her gaze falling to the darkening scenery outside. “Everything is just… great.”
⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚✩࿐
“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LAST SCENE OF THE DAY! AFTER THE TEST RUN, WE ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE, SO LET’S MAKE IT COUNT!” Mr. Park yells, his voice the epicenter of all the commotion.
After a couple more hours of rides and other attractions, it was time to finish filming the final part of the episode, the fireworks show. For the most part, the last couple hours of filming went smoothly, aside from the fact that Gaeul wouldn’t talk to you when the cameras weren’t rolling. The shift from her idol persona back to her regular self was eerie enough already, but seeing all that faux joy disappear the second Mr. Park yelled “cut” filled you with an all-new kind of dread. Is this it? Are you just going to finish filming and leave things like this, without knowing if you’ll ever get the chance to see her again?
You spot her in the distance, getting her makeup touched up by her makeup artist. The sea of frantic staff members never seems to end, but you push through anyway, determined to patch things up before the night ends.
“Gaeul!” you call out to her. “Can we ta—”
Her brick wall of a bodyguard stops you in your tracks with a firm grip on your shoulder.
“Ms. Gaeul would like to be left alone.”
“I just need to—Ah!” His grip tightens on your shoulder until you feel like it’s about to be ripped from its socket.
“I said, she wants to be left alone.”
You huff in frustration. “Look man, my best friend in the whole entire world is upset with me right now and I need to fix this, so would you please cut me some slack and let me talk to her for five fucking minutes!?” Despite the pain in your shoulder becoming borderline unbearable, you muster up the most threatening look you can. Thankfully, his grip on you loosens and your arm somehow doesn’t pop off from your body. Did he actually get scared by the look you gave him?
“It’s okay, Mr. Kim,” Gaeul says, walking out from behind him. Go figure. “I got it.”
Her bodyguard backs off, giving the two of you some space to talk. “Thanks, I was worried Mr. Park would have to CGI me a new arm,” you joke, trying to ease the tension. Gaeul’s lips curl slightly into a grin as she shakes her head at your dumb joke. It’s not much, but it’s progress. “Can we talk—”
“Follow me.” She walks off without another word, away from the filming location. Not wanting to get on her bad side again, you follow her in silence.
Gaeul leads you through the bustling crowds, down a narrow, unlit pathway tucked between two food stalls. The sounds of the park grow fainter with each step until all you can hear is your own breathing and the echo of your footsteps. As long as you’re able to clear the air with her, it doesn’t matter where she takes you. You’d gladly walk all the way to the ends of the Earth if it means you won’t part on bad terms.
Finally, Gaeul stops at a small, secluded lookout point. A sturdy railing, its paint chipped from years of wear and tear, stretches across the edge of the platform, offering a view of the whole amusement park below.
“Back when we were trainees, the company let us visit this exact amusement park as a reward for doing well on a monthly evaluation,” Gaeul explains, leaning against the railing. “We ended up finding this quiet little area. It gives the best view of the fireworks show.”
You take your spot next to her and look out at the park below. Multicolored lights dance freely in the night sky to the unpredictable tune of the park goers’ joyous screams. You can’t help but grin at the thought of a younger Gaeul being able to relive a piece of her childhood that she missed out on.
“It must have been a lot of fun,” you say.
“I wouldn’t really know.”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
A pensive escapes her lips into the open air. “I mean, it was fun, but… I just couldn’t stop looking for your face in every person we passed by.”
“Oh.”
“While the others were watching the fireworks, I was looking down at the crowd, hoping that I could see you again.”
“I-I, uh… I’m sorry, Gaeul—”
She lets out a hollow snicker, the sound barely carrying any amusement—just exhaustion. “What do you have to be sorry for? I should be the one apologizing. Back in the ferris wheel, when you said that ‘everything is good’, I just… I don’t know, I just broke down. Hearing you say that made me feel like you… forgot about me.”
“Hey,” you utter gently, placing your hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; you’re my best friend, Gaeul. I would never forget about you. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you.”
She turns to you, a cute pout on her lips and her eyes glistening with tears. “Really?”
“Of course, dummy,” you chuckle. “And it’s kinda hard to forget you when I see you literally everywhere.”
Gaeul rests her head on your shoulder, her chest rising and falling with gentle laughter. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and ignoring you all day, small fry.”
Tentatively, you wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I was able to talk to you before the day ended.” You feel her snuggle into your side, the warmth from her body a thousand times better than you could ever imagine it. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, screaming at you to say something.
You gulp in an attempt to quell your nerves. “A-actually, I’ve also, uh, been an idiot today. There’s something I need to tell you that I should’ve told you earlier.”
She shifts to look up at you, her eyes beaming like stars in the night sky. “What is it?”
“I-I, um… Gaeul, I—”
A ball of fire shoots upwards into the sky and bursts into a sparkling flurry of bright red. More follow soon after, whizzing past and painting the indigo sky with an array of colors. Gaeul excitedly climbs up the railing to get a better view, her expression filling up with a joy more genuine than any reaction she showed in front of the cameras.
Your heart aches as you look up at her—you love her. You love her so much that you want to scream it from the top of your lungs until your voice grows hoarse. Today could be the last time you ever see her. You need to tell her. Forget about all the consequences and just say it.
Gaeul turns to look down at you, a smirk playing on her lips. “This angle seems a bit familiar, don’t you think?” she teases, ruffling your hair. The chilly night air enters your lungs. Every color of the rainbow reflects against her perfect skin. All caution is thrown to the wind.
You push yourself onto your tippy toes and press your lips against hers.
The kiss couldn’t have been more than a second, just a mere peck, but the feeling still lingers on your lips like electricity. A long moment passes with nothing but the crackling of fireworks filling the space between you. The overwhelming heat against your cheeks makes it nearly impossible to make out her reaction. Is she disgusted? Upset? Angry?
Yet, all of your worries melt away as Gaeul falls into your arms, capturing your lips in hers once again. Years of pining and waiting, watching her fancams until the ungodly hours of the night, showing support for her in any way you can without ever knowing if she’ll notice your efforts, all of it culminates into that sweet, tender kiss. Tomorrow brings a plethora of unknown challenges, but all that matters is right now, in each other’s arms where you’ve been dying to be.
You break the kiss for a moment, a truth you’ve been waiting to release resting on your tongue. “Gaeul, I love you—”
“I know,” she interrupts, her voice light and airy. “I love you too, small fry. So, so, so much.”
Your lips break into a smile so wide your cheeks start to ache. “Not that I’m complaining, but how did you know—”
“Autumn? Really?” she teases, her hands cupping your cheek. “You might as well have confessed to me in that ferris wheel.”
You sink your face into her touch, treasuring every second of warmth. “I wish I did. Maybe then we would’ve had more time to be like this before we have to say goodbye.”
“I’m never, ever leaving your side again, you hear me? The company will just have to deal with it.”
You let yourself get lost in her lips once again, with no intention of ever finding your way back. The road ahead will no doubt be filled with hardships and uncertainties, but there’s no one else you would rather start this adventure with than the girl that made your world a little less lonely.
