Playing: Only Look at Me (Taeyang)

I arrived in Uijeong-bu with Jina-eonni in the thick of fall, just when the cold mountain air was slowly making its way south. It felt like winter was slowly approaching. Just like what Jinseok-oppa said, it was impossible for me to go back and forth to Seoul in these weather conditions. It was a relief that I only had this on my calendar; but after that day in the studio, I can’t help but be restless about wanting to see Youngbae again.

I wonder if I was being too obvious, like what Bom-eonni said.

She tapped her heels as she pulled out clothing after clothing in her favourite boutique, while I listlessly skimmed my fingers over the hung dresses. The fabric was soft to the touch and it smelled new and pleasant, but I couldn’t even think of drawing anything out to inspect.

Was I really that obvious? Couldn’t I have at least calmed down a little? Well it was actually Seungri’s fault that I got so weird, bursting in like that; and it’s not like eonni helped at all, with a comment like that...

“Alright, that’s it.” A hand dragged me away from the racks, and I almost missed the face of the person who pushed me into the changing room and shoved a handful of clothes towards me.

Well, towards my face.

Before she drew the curtain and hooked the ties to block my view from outside.

“Chill out, my pretty.” I could almost hear the eye-roll that came with it. “Try those on. Don’t even think of coming out without at least trying one.”

“I can hear you thinking. Go! Before I slap your pretty behind.”

Bom being bossy wasn’t a rare thing, but she can be amazingly naggy when she is, so I pouted for a moment before examining each dress. She got me everything that my brother would probably shred and burn, but since he wasn’t here, oh, well.

I put on a striking gold-glitter short dress that was high-necked in front and low at the back, and not bothering to remove my sneakers, I pulled on the string at the hook and drew the changing room curtain back to reveal myself to my waiting audience.

Bom looked up from inspecting her nails, looked me up and down, and nodded. “Pretty. Next?”

I had redrawn the curtains and tried another one; a tight form-fitting dress with abstract print on the center, and showed it to her while making a face. She nodded again.

“Can’t I get something a bit more...me?”

“This is you,” she answered from behind the curtain as I changed out of the white dress into a navy blue one. This one was knee-length, only it had a side slit.

“This is all you,” I bit my lip when I showed it to her. She inspected it, pursed her lips in agreement, and gestured to try another. She crossed her impossibly long legs the other way, and I had to roll my eyes.

“Not everyone has mile-long legs,” I comment from behind the curtain.

“Do you want Youngbae to notice you or not?”

Oh. OH. I stop zipping off the dress and looked at my reflection properly.

The dress was pretty, and the color was my favourite. If I could get contacts, I’d probably want them in this shade of navy blue. But I looked closer at myself, and I could only see everything that I didn’t really like about my body.

Everything screamed post-teenage. I was slim around the arms but a bit curvy on the hips and waist. My thighs were thick and my calves as well. I usually don’t even feel bad about not having to diet like Hwangssabu, resident YG fitness coach, make his idols do, even if I had the Choi condition on my side that gains a lot more than we can sweat out.

But one time I saw Jennie Kim from practice wearing her usual tights and workout shirt, and even though we were kind of good friends, I couldn’t help but stare at her stick-straight calves and feel bad.

I mean, she might have not owned a bike when she was younger. It really isn’t her fault. But just the same, I asked Hwangssabu the next day if he had a program for my thighs to grow slimmer.

He had chuckled and said I had an athlete’s lower body and I look as fine as I could be. What does that even mean?

I wonder if Youngbae oppa liked skinny girls?

I wonder if I could really have the power to make him look again with a different dress and heels, or if he’ll only always see me as a little sister?

I decide that I had enough and I change back into my clothes, hiding all the baby fat with my boyfriend shirt. I can’t help but make a face at my still visible muscle-calves, because I wore shorts.

I emerged from behind the curtain again, and Bom took that as a sign that I’m done for now. She stood up, towering over me in her heels, and tsk-tsked.

“Eh. Maybe he will notice, maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll freak out when I start dressing up like you,” I mumbled, and I thought she didn’t hear me, because she walked back outside without a second glance.

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