The night engulfs you. There’s no sound save for the light snore coming from the top bunk, where a bear lies in sweet slumber. But you yourself couldn’t find the bliss of escaping reality. Not yet at least. You were too occupied with waiting for someone.

The seconds tick by. 10:46 PM.

She should be back by now, you think.

And less than ten minutes later, you hear the front door open, light footsteps making their way down the hallway. It stops. You wait.

Shoes off.

And there it is again, the footsteps, but this time quieter, a soft pitter patter making its way throughout the dorm. You watch the light under the doorway, patiently waiting for the new person to enter because then you know for sure that the person came home safe and sound, physically and mentally, because the entertainment industry is so much more cut-throat than it makes itself out to be and you just have to make sure everything’s okay. Only then would you allow yourself to sleep peacefully.

Please be okay, you hope.

But all hopes were dashed the moment you hear a sniffle, a sigh. The footsteps come closer and you shut your eyes quickly, pretending to sleep, just in time as the door creeks open quietly and the figure moves itself towards the single bed across from your bottom bunk.

You listen to the careful movements of blankets before the bed dips and you know the person is now lying in bed in what you hope would be in some split-yoga position, because that meant that everything was okay.

But everything wasn’t okay because you hear a sniffle, and another, and another. A sob is choked back and that’s all it takes for you to kick the covers off and make the short distance to the other bed where the person lay in a fetal position, back facing you.

You want to slip under their covers quickly and hold them tightly against you, to whisper words of reassurance or whatever the figure needed. But for a minute you stand there, watching as shivers rack the figure’s small, huddled form.

Joohyun-ah.

Gently, you lie down on the cloud-like mattress, immediately greeted by the warm, comforting smell of the special fabric softener that the older girl loved so dearly. But that’s not what you came for and you swiftly turn on your side, left arm moving under the pillow, right arm wrapping the sobbing girl into a tight embrace. You pray that your body, your warmth, your presence, was enough to console the sobbing girl, enough to protect her tonight, tomorrow, and every day, because you knew that Joohyun was just so kind, gentle, and fragile. If something happened to her, what would you do?

The sniffling lessens, Joohyun’s arm moving to wipe any trace of tears away. If she was trying to be discreet, you didn’t say anything. All it mattered right now was the girl in your arms.

Joohyun.

“S-Seungwan-ah?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

Joohyun breathes a soft shaky sigh of relief.

“Did I wake you?” she asks.

Joohyun was the one crying into her pillow three minutes ago, and yet she’s asking you if she woke you up, as if there was something wrong with you and not the other way around, because she was Irene, Red Velvet’s leader and Goddess of Peace, and concern was something leaders were expected to have. But right now, she was Bae Joohyun‒kind, gentle, and fragile Joohyun who was scared of puppies and kittens and all you want is to hold her in this moment, protect her as much as your slightly smaller body can manage.

“No,” you reply.

Joohyun sighs knowingly.

“Seungwan-ah, did you wait up for me again?” the older girl asks, even though you both know the answer to the question, and unlike the two spawns of Satan, you would never dare to lie to the older girl.

So you answer her with a simple, “Yes.”

She turns around to face you and with the faint moonlight through the window, you can see the faint shine of remaining tear stains on her face. You cup her cheek, thumb wiping the wet lines away, your gaze never leaving hers.

“What happened, Hyun-ah?”

Joohyun lets out another sniffle, prompting you to hold her close again, her head moving to the crook of your neck, allowing you to bury your nose in her hair and you breathe in the lavender conditioner that you relate to no one else other than Joohyun because anything purple will always bring the older girl to your mind.

You repeat your question.

“What happened, Hyun-ah?”

You feel her breath on your skin and you look down as she moves her head up to look at you, eyes red and puffy, making you wish you had the power to return them to their natural dark chocolate brown.

“I messed up at the recording today. It was awful. It wasn’t even a small mistake, but a big one. I forgot my line and stood there. Everybody saw… ”

Another choked sob.

You bring her close again, Joohyun’s head fitting in the crook of your neck like a puzzle piece, her tears slipping from her face onto your collarbones. You whisper words of reassurance, words of “it’s okay” and “everything will be alright” repeatedly. But it doesn’t work.

You reluctantly pull her away to make her look at you. And you whisper as calmly, strongly, and caringly as you could to make her listen.

“Bae Joohyun, one mistake is not all you are. It does not and will not define you.”

The girl’s mouth moves to protest but you cut her off because you weren’t finished and the older girl needed to hear, know, and understand your message. Because too many times has the girl in front of you helped you and the others, took care of you and held you, whispering kind words like you wanted to do now. So you do what she would if the situation was reversed.

“There’s so much more to you. So much that you are and will be. You’re our leader, our unnie. You’re a homebody who loves to iron and do the laundry for some reason I have no idea of. Half the time, you’re a grandma, and the other half you’re a five year-old child. You iron Yerim’s uniform every day. Do you know how proud she is to wear it, knowing that her Joohyun unnie ironed it for her? You buy chicken for Joy, even though it makes you sick because of your chicken trauma. You were there for Seulgi during our trainee days, when she wanted to give up because seven years is a long time. You can cook seaweed soup. You love red bean ice-cream and other ancient foods. You beat me in arm wrestling. No idea how you did it.”

A smile begins to form on the older girl’s face. You keep going.

“So this mistake, compared to all that you are, is nothing. And you know what? Mistakes are made because then we can learn from them to better ourselves. We’re human. Nobody’s perfect. And don’t tell her I said this, but Sooyoung-ie isn’t perfect either, despite how much she thinks she is.”

She chuckles quietly at this.

“Joohyun-ah, never let yourself hang onto a mistake like this. Learn and move forward. That’s all anybody can do. If you don’t, you’ll be stuck and the world and everybody in it will continue on without you.”

The older girl looks away ashamed for a minute but you weren’t finished.

“But you know what, Joohyun?”

Her eyes return to meet yours.

“If you ever fall behind, I’ll always be there to pick you up. And we’ll move on. Together.”

With that, you hug her closely, allowing yourself to now fall into a much needed sleep. You said what you wanted. But just before you drift off, you hear her whisper softly.

“Thank you, Wan-ah.”

You respond simply by holding her closer and you know she knows that it was no problem to you. She settles into your arms and you feel her body relax.

Sleep greets the both of you and the next morning, you wake up to find her still in your arms. Tear stains that once shined on Joohyun’s face were dry and you take in the sight that you wanted most to see after last night.

Joohyun, with a soft smile on her face, peaceful as a sleeping angel.

You smile as well and close your eyes again, falling back to sleep, feeling content.

This moment right now, you wanted to hold for a little longer.

The day can wait.