Are you feeling sick anywhere, was it hard?

When she slumps over the back seat of her manager’s car, night had already settled itself quietly into the streets of Seoul. It was nearing four when the manager finally pulls over at her door steps. He reaches out to her sleeping form; head leaning against the window. when she stirs a little, he informs her that she’s home. She nods sleepily, pulling her body out of her place at the backseat in the haze of exhaustion.

Krystal trudged along, making her way to the apartment right at the end of the building. Her legs hurt; with each step that she walked, Krystal can feel the soles of her feet just screaming at her. After long hours of standing in heels, her senses are dulled with sleepiness and pain.

It didn’t help that she had thought she was being painfully loud: heels clicking as they make brief contact with the concrete underneath her feet. Krystal thought about other people – normal families, as she took out the keys from her bag. They probably ate dinner together, and then they would talk about what happened their day over a simple home cooked meal.

Krystal was certain that she would be greeted with the silence of a sleeping home. Her parents were regular people: they went to work at 7 and never came home later than 9. However, regular work hours were part for another world for her: something she didn’t quite understand. After all, what is normal about a 20 year coming home at 4? Likewise, her elder sister had always been a very busy woman. If cameras weren’t flashing in her face, she would be sleeping.

When your heart is aching, when no one is there for you

For the longest time, all Jessica really wanted was to have a break. It felt like she had spent her whole life running after the hands of a clock. It did not matter if it was 5 in the morning and she had only slept 2 hours the night before – if work beckoned, Jessica never said no. Jessica was never in the position to say no.

And then Jessica wanted something more. In her free time, she started to think a lot. She would daydream about having something to call her own – a husband, her own brand. With much guilt on her part, she would quietly indulge herself in sketches of sunglasses and clothes. Sometimes, she daydreamed about being normal – how did it feel like to take the subway back and fro work? How did it feel like to cram for university assignments?

Jessica Jung could settle for normalcy now as she flipped between channels lazily. Not that she could properly enjoy it though; things weighed heavily at the back of her head. Her parents had turned in early that night, and Jessica – Jessica didn’t really want to sleep. In the few hours here, she had made herself comfortable with a chilled beer and a muted TV. With no makeup on her face right now, Jessica Jung was no worldwide celebrity. She didn’t have to please anyone – not the cameras, not the public, not the fans, not her manager, not her company and definitely not her co-workers.

Resentment; cold and icy bubbled up inside her.

She thought about everything: the indifferent looks they threw around when she cracks the occasional jokes; how everything she says and does leaves the air around them lukewarm, as if she had said something dirty. She remembers the moments confiding in people she trusted – in the same tongue, she remembers expressing herself to someone other than her sister. She was told to let it go, to be the bigger person, to see the bigger picture. She recalls how she chastised herself, changed herself, blamed herself.

Torn between feelings of immense hatred and depression, tidal waves of hopelessness crashes right into her. She knows she should be a rock, but her vision is blurred by sting tears. She feels overwhelming full – full with this throbbing ache as she curls up into a tiny ball. Her head aches – she is utterly humiliated. She thinks she should be over this – no, she should be. She should be over this, she should be over them.

Just come here

 “Soojung-ah,”

Jessica quickly springs up at the sound of tired heels against cement. Her own wounds were forgotten right at the moment: she scrambled to clean herself up, brushing her hair and wiping stray tears away from her face. At that very moment, she was grateful for having enough hindsight to turn off the light. It would be infinitely harder for krystal to notice her eyes – puffy and red from tears.

“Unnie,”

At first, Krystal was surprised to see activity at their home, especially in this ungodly hour. She was used to the face of her home, peaceful and asleep. And then she noticed the beer can, the muted TV and the slight crack in her sister’s voice. She put two to two together, and her heart twisted in her chest.

Younger sisters were anything but idiots.