You look at her only in the absence of judgment.

You look at her when the fans think you’re looking at Yongsun. You smile, because she has no idea; it hurts, because she has no idea.

You envy Hyejin, because she knows her like you never will. She knows all the clicks and ticks–about that embarrassing accident in second grade and the boy she had a crush on in sixth–and you can only guess.

In the dead of night, you pester her in your shared room; this is the only advantage you have over Hyejin. Only you know about the candy she has stashed under her pillow, about the stain on her sweats that has mysteriously outlasted the existence of the group.

You wonder if you annoy her (how does she put up with you?). But then she smiles at you, with the sun in her eyes and the stars on her lips, and you’re blinded. 

When she asks you who your ideal type is, you reply that it’s Krystal without thinking.

She stares at you.

You fumble for your phone–which eludes you with ease–stuttering all the whilst–

“It’s okay.”

You glance at her in shock.

Her eyes are soft. The dimple on her right cheek is faintly visible.

“But–,” you begin in a desperate attempt to justify your–your–  

Does she even know what she’s saying? Too young, she’s too young–she has no idea about the weight of your sins–what this means in the eyes of society–of God–of–

“I didn’t think you were serious about her,” she laughs (too endearingly for your sake).

You offer a tight-lipped smile, because you don’t want to tell her it’s because Krystal reminds you of her.

“It’s…I mean, it’s not like that–I’m not–,” you try again, but she puts her hand against your face and you forget how to speak.

“It’s okay,” she repeats.

And then she smiles.

In the car ride between events, you wonder who her first kiss was–because really, how can someone like her never have been kissed? You wonder what it’s like to taste the honey on her lips, graze the smooth of her jaw with your teeth–

Whoever it was, you envy him–or maybe, maybe you wish it was a her.

You keep these thoughts to yourself, always, because she’s precious and she deserves better.