Song recommendation:

Sleepless Night - 9Muses

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Gods, I'm a mess.

Solar rubs her eyes and surveys her desktop. The wooden tabletop is littered with papers, files, pens, highlighters, and her laptop right in the middle. Her fingers are cramping, her back aches, her legs have long fallen asleep, and tastes unpleasantly of stale breath and that second cup of coffee she'd imbibed an hour ago. Basically, she feels like , and her stinging eyes don't help either.

Okay, I deserve a break. I've done half the slides I need for the next meeting. No point pushing myself if the words are swimming everywhere. Solar resolutely pushes herself away from her desk, looking at the numbers on her digital clock. Eleven fifty-four.

She's absorbed by the blinking : in the middle of the digitised numbers, until she realises that she's aggressively hungry from skipping dinner. She contemplates whether getting up for food is worth it, but the next insistent growl from her stomach convinces her that it is.

So she stands up, gripping the table hard for support as the blood rushes back to her feet in a very unpleasant manner. She counts to ten, then pushes off the table, taking a few steps to test if her legs are used to moving again. She opens the door of her room, leaving the comfortable air conditioning as she wanders down the unlit hallway to the kitchen. She flicks the light switch and digs around, coming up with a couple of granola bars (with dried fruit, because Jaehyuk always admonishes her to eat healthier) and a packet of peach tea.

She grabs two bars and the tea and turns the light back off. She plods back to her room, her feet sticking to the ground with every step. She locks her bedroom door behind her and sits back down on her desk chair, unwrapping her granola bar and taking a bite of oats and dried cranberries.

Solar is halfway through her second bar when her phone rings, playing the unexpected ringtone that she set for only two people - the two people that she probably should call a lot more than she actually does. She gnaws her lower lip. Why are they calling me? And at this time? Did something happen?

Pushing aside files, she finds her phone lying underneath a stack of papers. She picks it up and presses the green receive call button.

“Hello?”

“Mom,” Solar says, her voice a lot tenser than she meant it to sound. She clears . “Hi. Why are you calling? Is something wrong?”

“The only thing that's wrong is that you haven't called us for months and only dropped a couple of texts. Don't you think we'd get a little bit worried about how you're doing, Yongsun?”

Solar stiffens, her fingers tensing around her phone so much that it trembles in her grip.

“It's Solar, mom. Solar. Don't-” She breathes in sharply- “call me Yongsun.”

“Oh, right. Solar. Don't you find that name a tad silly, dear? I feel a little offended that you still refuse to go by the name we gave you when you were born. Does your original name still sound that bad to you?”

Solar closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She regrets feeding those fibs to her mother when she was young, but she isn't going to tell her the real reason she changed her name now. “Look, mom, it's nothing like that. I just prefer being called Solar, alright? My original name is just - it’s great and all, but - just call me Solar.”

“Fine, fine, dear. If it makes you happy. How are things going? At work? Jaehyuk? Please fill me in. I know it's rather late at night, but I just remembered that I wanted to call you as I was going to go to bed.”  

“You do know that if you ever want to visit me, I also live in Seoul,” Solar shifts her free hand from her nose bridge to her granola bar, raising it to to take a bite.

“I know, but I'm working too, remember? Hey - do I hear you chewing? Don't tell me you skipped dinner again.”

“I'm having-” Solar pauses for a heartbeat before continuing, “a snack. You know how Jaehyuk always makes me eat. It's fine. I texted you about that promotion I got a week and a half ago, yeah? Work just got insanely busier. Still seeing the psychologist. Same old.”

Guilt boils up in her stomach. Solar hates lying, and making her parents worried about her is the last thing she needs. But with so much on her plate, she's really pressed to stay focused on the things that matter.

“Yeah, you could've at least called to tell us that, right? Are you coping well with the promotion?” Her mother sounds neutral, but the underlying tone of worry isn't completely hidden. Her mother knows that she doesn’t handle stress well.

“I - I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle, I suppose.” Solar crumples her empty granola bar wrapper in her fist.

“Solar,” Her mother says tenderly, “Remember that if you ever need someone to talk to, your dad and sister and I are a call away, alright? I can send you care packages with carrot sticks and cucumbers and bento boxes every day if you want. But please, at least give us a call every fortnight to tell us how you are. Or visit more often. Okay?”

Solar feels her eyes prickling, and she wipes the moisture away with the sleeve of her shirt before it can spill over.

“Okay, mom,” Solar says, closing her eyes. She tries to make her voice steady. “I've got work to finish. I'll call you again when I'm free. Sorry. I love you.”

“Don't work too hard, Solar. I love you too. Good night.”  

The line clicks, and Solar places her phone gently back onto the table before pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her forehead on her knees.

Yongsun. Yongsun. Yongsun. Kim Yongsun.

She stays in that position for Gods knows how long, just breathing, the shadow of her old name haunting her.

Solar shivers although she's wearing a long sleeved shirt and her air conditioner isn't even that cold. She grips her ankles tightly. The sound of laughter echoes in her head, along with the image of a raised first descending upon her flesh.

I couldn't have told her why I wanted to change my name to Solar. Does she know that I link that name to the days when I got bullied? When I came home with bruises all over my body from being kicked? Solar tightens her grip even more, until her knuckles go white. The shivers aren't going away.

No, she can't know. She can't know my other reasons. Everyone would call me a lunatic. The monsters in my head - the weird flashes of memory that I'm certain didn't happen to me before, those - those cold feelings I got at times. She can't know that I link that name to some imaginary evil that I think exists inside me.

The thought frightens her, and she opens her eyes, her lips trembling. She's certain that she's alone at home, but the solitary state isn't one that she wishes she's in now. Her fingers find her phone again, unlocking the device with shaking fingertips. Her first instinct is to call Jaehyuk, but she knows he doesn't appreciate her calling any later than eleven thirty unless it's an absolute emergency. Early sleeper.

She doesn't even know who's number she's calling until the person picks up on the fourth ring.

“Solar?”

The voice is warm, deep, and comfortingly familiar. It makes some of the fear in Solar's heart melt a little.

“Byulyi,” Solar says, resting her forehead back on her knees.

“I'm not sure if this is related to psychologist Byulyi or your friend Byulyi, but you sound a little… breathy there. I'll choose psychologist. What's wrong? I'll assume you're not calling because you had a nightmare, because that would be rather unorthodox of you.”

“I'm sorry to be calling you so randomly and at this time. It's just-” Solar lets out a shaky laugh. “can you talk to me? Please? Just - about anything. Anything.”

There's hardly a pause before Byulyi says, “Are you kidding me? Twelve eighteen is the prime time to be up and binge watching Produce 101 and Dia music videos. Ah, Dia! Do you happen to be a fan of Dia or at least listen to their music? They came out with a new song recently. Please tell me you're a fan.”

Solar smiles softly. “Dia. That girl group Dia? Yeah, I'm a fan.”

“Oh, I knew it! Our music tastes are so similar, we're basically a match made in heaven. Just kidding. Since you like them, I have a lot to discuss with you, Solar. Starting with their new music video.”

Solar feels more of the fear melting away, replaced by warmth. “So I suppose I'll be discussing a lot with you then, Moon Byulyi. Enlighten me with your knowledge and musical expertise regarding their newest music video. And Produce 101.”

“Excellent. Give me ten seconds while I unwrap my very seven eleveny sandwich and then we're good to go.”

Byulyi hums tunelessly over the line and Solar hears the sound of plastic crinkling. She breathes out and looks at the blinking : of her clock again, her lips twitching. She really wants to thank Byulyi for going along with her, because she knows she's probably sounding like a complete nutcase calling just to talk about random things at the middle of the damn night. But the words die in even as she tries to say them, and she decides to just keep her peace.

“‘Aight, I'm back. Sandwich tastes nice and cold and seven eleveny. Okay, On The Road music video. Let's see. I think we all have to agree that the visuals are top notch, and I don't expect any less from a group from MBK. Dance looks pretty cute. Singing is fine. Song itself is catchy.”

“I prefer Somehow over On The Road, though. It's such a nice song.”

“Ooh, same! Somehow caught my eye first thing. Then a few of their members went on Produce 101. Oh oh oh, I know people would probably bash my face in for saying what I'm about to say, especially since the eleven has debuted already, but do you want to hear-” She pauses, and Solar assumes she's taking a bite of her sandwich. “-who I think should've been top eleven?”

Solar smiles. She leans back in her chair. “Hit me.”

They talk until nearly one thirty, when Byulyi says, “It's totally not like I'm tired or anything, but I think we should go to sleep. It's late. Or is it early? Either way. I'm sure you got pretty from sleeping a-” Byulyi yawns over the line, “-lot.”

Then Solar feels guilty for making Byulyi stay up so late just to talk to her. Especially when Solar does so without rhyme or reason and just asks her to talk, and Byulyi can still have the gall to drop smooth compliments on her nonetheless. She tries to apologise, but Byulyi cuts her off and shushes her aggressively.

“It's fine, Solar. I don't mind. I did say you can call me whenever you want to talk to me. Serious or not, I'm okay with it. And you don't have to tell me why - I won't pry. If you want me to talk about anything, I'll do it gladly. So don't apologise, because if I don’t hang up, then it means that I'm talking to you willingly. I hope I didn't bore you with all my fluff about Dia and Produce 101.”

It's one of these times when Solar seriously feels so thankful that she heeded Hyejin’s advice to see a psychologist so many months ago. How else would she have found such a person in her life?

“No, you didn't. I enjoyed talking to you.” And she means it.

“Sure you did, boo. In any case, just holler if you need me, aye? Just a few buttons away.”

“Thank you for talking to me, Byulyi. Don't sleep too late. I-” Solar swallows. “Thank you. I'll see you on Saturday?”

-

“Yeah,” Byulyi says. “I'll see you on Saturday.”

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