“You know, Sejeong, there’s something about you.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Just something. Like, I think you’re going to play a big part in my life,” some ruffling of sheets, the sound of a button being pressed, “I think I’m never going to forget you.”

“I sure hope not,” she breathes out, staring at her own ceiling. “It’d if I remember you too well and you don’t even look my way anymore.”

“No, no.” A laugh so beautiful it almost lulls Sejeong to sleep. “It’s a given that I never forget you until at least a few years after we graduate and part ways.”

She stays quiet, waiting for her to continue.

“But I think I’ll never forget you my whole life. I’ll probably never forget your face, your smell… everything.”

Static buzzes through the line, both of them comfortable in the quiet. But then Sejeong speaks, “I’ll never forget you too.”

She can almost hear Nayoung’s smile through the line. And she hears it clearer through her voice, “We should probably sleep, it’s 3 AM and we’ll meet at lunch today.”

Surprised, she pulls her phone away from her ear and looks at the time: 3:13 AM. “Oh God, you’re right. See you later, Nayoung. Good night.”

“See you later, love. Sleep tight.”

-

Of course they’re late. Nayoung promised to come pick Sejeong up before 10 AM so they can eat breakfast together, but the girl knocks on her door a few minutes after 1 pm with her hair still very much wet and her lips stretching into smile. It’s good that she’s late too, because Sejeong also woke up late. And she always thought a slightly ruffled but trying hard to look calm Nayoung is one of the best Nayoungs.

The only problem is Hakyeon’s scowling face greeting them as soon as they step foot in Insomnia. “What time is it?”

Nayoung rolls her eyes, fingers going through her still wet hair, tangles too stubborn against her fingers. “Uh, 2 pm?”

“What time did we agree to meet up?” Hakyeon asks, voice still stern and annoyed. Taekwoon stands beside him, sending Nayoung a sympathetic smile. He knows, sometimes Hakyeon can be such a mom.

But Nayoung seems to be used to it anyway, as she merely shrugs again and answers in a dull voice, “Lunch time.”

“Lunch is 12 noon, Nayoung, in case you forgot.”

“I usually have late lunches,” she replies nonchalantly. Shrugging, she lightly pushes Sejeong in the store, ignoring Hakyeon’s souring face. “Where are Hana and Mimi?”

Taekwoon answers, “Late.”

Nayoung walks past him and sits herself down on the couch under one of the bookshelves. She sends Hakyeon an infuriating smile. “Save your scolding for later.” A smiles lights up her face as Sejeong takes a seat on the armchair across her, and she asks, “What do we eat?”

“God,” comes Hakyeon’s whiny voice. They both look up and find Hakyeon still glaring down at them. “We’re eating lunch together, remember?”

“But we haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” Nayoung replies easily. She takes her phone out and shows Sejeong the menu. “Are you in the mood for something salty or something sweet?”

Sejeong leans to take a closer look at the phone just as a hand appears in front of it, turns, grabs her chin, makes her look up, and she finds Hakyeon’s terrifyingly calm eyes staring back at her. “Yeah?”

“We, as you know, are supposed to eat lunch in this little place I picked that’s on the way to our childhood neighborhood. And it is a well-known fact that eating ‘something salty or something sweet’ before a huge full course meal ruins the appetite about eighty-three percent of the time.”

Another hand, much colder than the last, grabs her chin. And she follows its orders and stares straight into Nayoung’s eyes.

Her eyes lure her in, ordering her to follow her every request, and the words she’s saying enter her ears but don’t really leave a mark: “Don’t believe him. He uses the number eighty-three all the time as his statistics. He started doing it ever since he watched How I Met Your Mother.”

She nods, like she more than usual does. It’s so easy to agree when the eyes staring into yours are as sincere as Nayoung’s.

She hears the sound of the door swinging open, the sound of feet hitting the floor, and the sound of a body plopping down on the couch, but it’s the sound of Mimi’s voice that jolts her out of her trance: “Wow, lovebirds, eye much?”

Nayoung’s eyes look away first, gaze landing on her grinning best friend. “How was the morning ?” she retorts.

“Do you really kiss your mother with that mouth?” Mimi mock-exclaims, standing up to walk to where Hana is.

“So, when you say it, it’s okay, but when I do, I suddenly have a dirty mouth? How is that fair?”

Mimi turns, sends Nayoung a meaningful look, sarcastic smile slightly pulling the corner of her lip up, and says, “Some things are never fair.”

The hidden meaning is there. Sejeong heard it. Hakyeon and Taekwoon heard it. Hana and Nayoung heard it. The girl behind the counter (an unfamiliar face) heard it.

But Mimi shrugs it off as if there’s nothing more to what she had just said and happily asks for some chocolate smoothie.

Sejeong hears Nayoung taking a deep breath, feels the air shift and the mood change. Hana stiffens on her spot as Mimi’s hand slides across her waist gracefully, leaning closer to the counter to talk quietly with the cashier.

Hakyeon breaks the silence by clapping his hands together, the sound harsh and sharp against the glass of secrets. “I’ll allow each of you to buy a cup of something and a piece of bread. Just one pair each. But you’ll have to eat and drink them on the way.”

A slight thankful smile from Nayoung to Hakyeon, a still stubborn Hana feigning innocence. And Sejeong feels stuck between being an outsider and wanting to feel at home in the play pretends and lies.

“You know I get sick easily when eating in a moving vehicle,” Nayoung whines, tone testing the waters.

Mimi spins around, sends her a teasing smile, and says, “Hana brought a pill just for you. Drink it thirty minutes before we leave and you shouldn’t feel sick at all.” She walks away from Hana and sits next to a stone faced Taekwoon. “Speaking of, I’m feeling sick too.”

“You can take the pill. I won’t feel sick unless I eat something shortly before the drive.”

“Well you have to eat, ,” Mimi dismisses her with a flick of her wrist, leaning back on the armrest of the couch and propping her feet on Taekwoon’s lap. “Besides, I don’t think this feeling can be cured with medicine.”

Hakyeon glares at her, getting more annoyed by the moment. Sejeong wonders what triggered Mimi so much that she’s this petty today. She usually just shrugs everything off or sends a few petty remarks and pretends nothing happened afterwards.

Something must’ve happened before they arrived here, and Hana’s rigid movements only confirms her suspicions.

Seems like a storm’s coming this weekend, and the earliest sighting of the storm brewing is happening the same time the coffee is.

Now Sejeong’s feeling sick.

-

Suprisingly (and unsurprisingly, really), Mimi’s petty remarks stop as soon as Hakyeon starts the engine, and the ride goes by as it would if it were a normal day.

Except every time Hana laughed at something Nayoung said, Mimi would stiffen beside her and zone out. Except whenever Mimi said something, Hana would stiffen and look out the window. They sat next to each other, but Sejeong could see from behind just how much they both hated it.

Nayoung slumps beside her the whole ride. Hakyeon drives and Taekwoon whines at not being allowed to drive. And all four of them laugh at each joke, bodies shaking and eyes disappearing. All four of them sing along to the songs playing through the aux cord connected to Taekwoon’s song (the only thing that kept him from throwing a tantrum, really), heads raising and shoulders moving.

But Sejeong, an outsider, can see they’re all pretending the tension isn’t thick, pretending not one of them’s a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.

And Sejeong, she leans back on her seat, scoffs, and almost laughs at how good this bunch of people are at acting. It’s almost good enough to fool Sejeong, if only their faces didn’t tense up every time a laugh dies, a song ends. If only they could also fool themselves.

-

Nayoung’s house is… huge. Like something out of a Korean drama, or a western movie. Like a place where the heads of the house are s and don’t have the slightest bit of time for their kids. Like the occupants are snobbish and never looks a person eye to eye and always has to lift their chin and look down from the nose.

So, it’s not really Sejeong’s fault the first thing she blurts out is “Tell me now if your parents are self-centered bigots, please.”

Hana glares at Sejeong, Mimi barks out a laugh, Hakyeon looks terrified, and Taekwoon hides a smile. Nayoung stares at her amusedly, and then chuckles as she says no. “They’re the best kind of parents I could ever ask for, really. A bit strict, maybe, but they’re good.” She opens the door and gestures at the others to enter. “They’re not here yet, though, so let’s visit Grandpa in the hospital after we drop off our stuff.”

“Hospital?” Sejeong asks the person next to her, who happens to be Mimi.

Mimi shrugs. “He’s sick.” And then she’s on her way to the kitchen and Sejeong’s left in the huge living room, shouldering her backpack, and wondering where to go.

-

Hana, Mimi, Taekwoon, and Hakyeon all passed by their own houses, scattered around the neighborhood, as Nayoung showed Sejeong her room – impressively clean, embarrassingly so high school – and said they’d have to share the room. Sejeong doesn’t mind, really, it’s Nayoung. And she has a sofa bed Sejeong can sleep in if she ever got too awkward in the huge bed.

Two hours later, they’re walking down the halls of a hospital and Nayoung’s fidgeting with the flowers in her hand. Sejeong grabs one of her hands, sends her an assuring smile, and keeps it for safekeeping.

Nayoung smiles back.

They stop in front of one door, and with some kind of silent agreement, Taekwoon, Hakyeon, Mimi, and Hana come in first as Nayoung and Sejeong stay outside.

“He has Alzheimer’s,” Nayoung says in a shaky voice, eyes on the closed door. “It’s really frightening whenever we go visit him because we never know whether or not he still remembers us.”

Sejeong leans closer and places a calming hand on Nayoung’s knee. “I’m sure he still remembers you. You’re hard to forget.”

Nayoung offers a small smile, not really all that happy. “I guess so.” She takes a deep breath, once again staring at the door. “Um… he also has a weak heart, but that’s mostly because of his age. And… the reason why—the reason why I—”

“You don’t have to tell me, Nayoung,” Sejeong interrupts, eyes widening at how much this is affecting Nayoung.

“I really… you wanted to know me, so…” she gulps, “he’s the reason why I hate walls.” Sejeong’s hand begins massaging Nayoung’s knee, drawing circles and pressing on the right spaces. “When I was about thirteen, he had the first symptoms of the disease. He was living with us, and we recently renovated the house.” She lets out a chuckle, sardonic. “Of course, he forgot. His room has a glass door and huge windows so we can see him from outside, and I—” her breaths staggers and Sejeong’s grip on her knee tightens, “—was the one who saw him.”

“You really don’t have to,” Sejeong murmurs, only half aware of what she’s saying. She’s too busy trying to ease up the hurt in Nayoung’s face with her eyes.

Nayoung smiles thankfully at her, but continues, “The door was locked. I was thirteen and too scared. I saw him wake up in his bed, look around at the unfamiliar surroundings, and yell for us. He was so scared. For some reason, he didn’t see me at the door, knocking.” Her eyebrows quirk and the corner of her lips turn up. “Though, I guess it’s because I recently had a haircut. Anyway, he had a heart attack and all I could do was stare at him as I screamed for someone to help.”

“Who came?”

“Taekwoon. He broke down the door with a hammer, and needless to say it didn’t help at all with my Grandpa’s heart attack.”

“Oh. Taekwoon taking it well?”

Nayoung shakes her head. “Nah. Still beats himself up for it. But we got him to the hospital in time. Never was allowed to go home since.”

“But… he still remembers your Grandma.”

Nayoung’s face crumples in pain. “Yeah. She, um, she died two years ago.”

Sejeong’s eyes widen. “But… they’re still celebrating their anniversary?”

“He… forgot.”

“That she died?”

“Yes. And call us s, but no one ever lets him remember.”

“Why not?” she asks in a small voice.

“No one could bear to see the pain in his face again.” Nayoung shrugs.

The door opens and Hakyeon walks out with a grin on his face, so utterly happy and beautiful. “He still remembers us.”

Nayoung stands, shocked. “Seriously?” Hakyeon nods cheekily, Mimi grinning behind him, and Nayoung lets out a squeal. She turns to Sejeong and holds out her hand. “Let’s go?”

-

“Nayoung,” the man on the bed greets with a hoarse voice. “Nayoung, you’re here.”

“Of course,” Nayoung replies, grinning from ear to ear, as she walks over to his bed and gives him a small peck on the head.

“You’re here with a girl.” He points at Sejeong, who shuffles awkwardly by the closed door. “Come, dear.”

Sejeong makes her way to them, offering a small polite smile. “Hi.”

“Your name is?”

“Kim Sejeong.”

“Sejeong,” he repeats, a thoughtful look crossing his eyes. “Like the King?”

“I guess so.”

“So, Sejeong, are you Nayoung’s girlfriend?”

Sejeong looks up at Nayoung, questioning. Nayoung blushes but nods. “I am.”

“Good. Make her happy,” he orders, trying on his best frowning face. But his lips are trembling in a smile and Sejeong smiles back. He turns to Nayoung. “Nayoung, how’s the coffee shop?”

“Great,” is Nayoung’s automatic reply, crossing over to the other side of the bed and placing an arm over Sejeong’s shoulder. “People love eating breakfast there.”

“I knew I made the right decision when I gave you that place.” He grins. “Your uncle wanted nothing of it… no money, he said. But you’re raking money from it, aren’t you?”

Nayoung nods enthusiastically, making Sejeong raise an eyebrow at her. “Yes. Everyone loves it. Right, love?”

Sejeong squints. Then she smiles at the man. “Yes. My teammates live for their coffee buns.” She beams up at Nayoung.

“Oh, that’s so great,” he gushes, genuinely delighted, and Sejeong suddenly understands why Nayoung keeps lying to him.

“Sejeong here has helped with that, though.” Nayoung beams proudly, pulling Sejeong impossibly closer to her body. “She’s been helping with getting an audience, people flock over to where she is. She’s kind of a superstar.”

“Am not,” Sejeong insists, cheeks burning. She swats at Nayoung’s arm playfully before letting her hand snake around Nayoung’s torso. “Their bread is just to die for. It’s not at all my doing.”

“The recipes are Nayoung’s.”

Sejeong raises her eyebrows at Nayoung. “Oh?”

Nayoung blushes. “It’s Grandma’s.”

“But you changed them all because you hated your grandma’s cookies.”

“I did.” She shrugs. “Maybe that’s why it doesn’t taste as good now.”

“I think they taste delicious.” Sejeong lifts her chin, smiling gently at Nayoung. “They’re amazing.”

“Yeah?” Nayoung breathes, face so close to Sejeong’s one wrong move and they’d be touching.

Sejeong smile widens, gaze dropping to Nayoung’s lips. “Yeah,” she says before poking her tongue out and her lips.

And, without warning, Nayoung plants a quick kiss on her lips, pulling away immediately and smiling gently.

“You two look great together. Marry each other!” he exclaims, breaking them out of their trance.

Sejeong’s eyes widen and Nayoung’s arm stiffens over her. “We just got together a few weeks ago, Grandpa,” she whines, and despite the stiffness of her arm, she laughs lightly.

“You’ll be together for a whole lot more weeks, trust me. I think… I think Sejeong’s the one girl I’ll remember,” he says wistfully, smiling at Sejeong. His gaze snaps to Nayoung. “So, tell me about your studies…”

-

“I’m sorry you had to lie, like fifteen times,” Nayoung tells her as soon as they step out of the hospital room. “And about the, um, you know—the ki—”

Sejeong shakes her head. “That’s fine. I, um, I saw how it made him happy. I understand.” Her gaze makes its way to the closed door, and then to the four people waiting outside for them. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” Mimi says. “Let’s go have the sleepover at Nayoung’s house.”

“Why?” Nayoung asks exasperatedly, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Mimi grins unabashedly at her. “Because your living room’s the hugest.”

“And your parents have the wine cellar,” Hakyeon adds.

“I don’t think my parents would love to see us hungover in the living room tomorrow.”

Mimi shrugs. “Then let’s sleep in your room.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Still have that wall of movie and theatre quotes?”

“Stop,” Nayoung groans, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead. “But, yes.”

Mimi guffaws, smacking Nayoung’s arm loudly. “That’s the most cringe worthy thing I have ever seen, you know.”

“I didn’t notice that earlier,” Sejeong says, a smile lifting her own lips. “I should’ve paid more attention.”

“You most probably noticed the hot pink walls though.” Hana smiles at her.

Sejeong wrinkles her nose in distaste. “I went blind for a moment, I admit.”

Everyone laughs as Nayoung dramatically grumbles under her breath, but there’s also a smile on her lips and the air is light and Sejeong almost doesn’t notice the way her lips are still burning from that very light peck earlier.

-

It’s almost midnight when they make it to Nayoung’s house, giggling like giddy little kids over some crude joke that left Mimi’s lips. Before Nayoung can step in the house after her friends, Sejeong grabs her arms. She turns, eyes clouded with something like fear for a moment before Sejeong asks, “Are your parents here?”

She lets out a breath, then shakes her head. “They’ll arrive tomorrow. My dad’s office is in Seoul, and, naturally, my mom lives with him in the apartment they bought near it.”

“But… who’s staying at this house, then?”

“My parents, still. They just come home every weekend,” Nayoung answers, finally stepping in the place. “We all kind of just had to move out. But this lot has been in the family for generations, we couldn’t let go of it.”

Sejeong nods, following her. Her mind wanders to Nayoung’s fear clouded eyes and almost mutters her question when Taekwoon walked out the kitchen. “We have no food.”

“Actually, we do have a few,” Mimi contradicts, popping out beside him. “But they’re for the party. But. Your cooks are asleep.” She shrugs at the dirty look Taekwoon sends her.

Nayoung shakes her head. “No, mom will kill me. Let’s order pizza, then.”

“I’ll call,” Hana offers, already making her way towards the phone.

“You don’t have alcoholic drinks,” Hakyeon announces, appearing between Mimi and Taekwoon with a scowl. “Do you even take care of this place?”

Nayoung waves a dismissive hand. “Wine cellar. Go nuts.”

Hakyeon grins, mocking salute, and drags an also grinning Mimi with him to the stairs. Taekwoon shakes his head. “You’re dead tomorrow.”

“I know.”

-

They’re halfway through their third bottle of wine, and Mimi’s leaning heavily against Sejeong’s side, looking drowsy from tiredness instead of the alcohol. Hana, Hakyeon, and Taekwoon are sitting cross legged across them, all rosy cheeked and smiling drunkenly.

But all Sejeong can feel is Nayoung’s body beside her, not leaning against her but still. So. Close.

-

Nayoung laughs way too loudly at another obscure joke from Mimi. Hana laughs softly, looking up through thick lashes and it’s impossible to see whether she’s looking at Mimi or Nayoung.

-

Sejeong isn’t thinking. Sejeong’s drunk and giddy and lightheaded. And when they came on the topic of first kisses, she says in a drunken slur, “Nayoung kissed me.”

And Hana’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, Mimi turns to stare wide-eyed, and Nayoung freezes beside her.

“So much for the no-kiss rule, huh?” Sejeong says with a smug smile.

Nayoung shakes her head. “Rule still on. I only did that because Grandpa was staring at us like he was expecting us to kiss.”

“You weren’t looking at your grandpa then.”

Nayoung swivels and glares at her, bewildered. “I could see him from the corner of my eye.”

“You still kissed me,” Sejeong teases.

“I’m going for a walk,” Nayoung announces, leaving Sejeong’s side cold and exiting the house without another look.

Hana softly chuckles. “Typical Nayoung. Only gets mad in the most juvenile ways. She probably won’t talk to you until she thinks you’re worthy of her presence again.”

“I was just teasing,” Sejeong whines.

“She’s sensitive when it comes to kisses,” Mimi says, pointing a pizza at Sejeong with a grin.

She pouts. “But I wanted to be friends. Not just fake-girlfriends. Friends tease each other.”

“You are friends,” Hakyeon tells her with a soft voice. It’s funny how he’s the only one being sweet about this. “Nayoung’s always friends with those she fake dates. She’s inseparable with Suhyun now.”

“But I don’t know anything about her. She’s just Kim Nayoung, fake girlfriend who takes up Architecture, owns a white sports car and a coffeehouse, owns a studio apartment, and has an irrational fear of walls. And she’s smart and likes coffee way too much.”

Hana raises an eyebrow. “And?”

“And that’s all. I don’t even know her favorite color, or her favorite movie.”

“Pink, and You Are The Apple Of My Eye,” Hakyeon answers nonchalantly.

Sejeong blinks. “And- and I don’t know what high school she went to—”

“A performing arts high school. Went there with everyone from the agency.”

She once again blinks. “Will you, um, answer everything?”

Mimi shrugs. “Sure.”

“First, well, how did you pick who gets to be in the agency?”

She feels a soft nudge against her right side and finds Mimi trying to sit up comfortably. “We all went to the same performing arts high school. We weren’t friends there though, didn’t know each other except us five, and Sojin became Nayoung’s friend after Hana, Taek, Hakkie, and I graduated.”

“And there was this play in the high school after we all graduated and we went to watch and met Hongbin, who was, coincidentally, in Nayoung’s Anthropology class. Basically, we all just met each other in a series of events and found out we all go to the same university, and graduated from the same high school.”

“So you just… decided it’d be fun to do this fake dating agency?”

“Oh, see, that started with Hana and Nayoung—” Hakyeon stops, mouth shaped into an ‘O’.

Mimi shrugs. “Hana and Nayoung were both auditioning for a lead role of a play during Hana’s last year in high school. The auditions were held the latter part of third year high school. So, like normal people do, they bet each other that they were a better actress than the other. Bet that they can fake-date each other for the rest of the year and no one will ever doubt they were actually, truly, together.”

Sejeong nods, feeling her head turning light. “And?”

“Well, they were both too prideful to stop even after the auditions—”

“Hana was too prideful. Nayoung just wouldn’t take all the gloating so she stayed,” Hakyeon interrupts.

Taekwoon rolls his eyes. “Yes. Anyway, when Hana got the part, she kissed Nayoung.”

“Yeah, and boom, in love. Fireworks. Shooting stars. Butterflies in the stomach.” Mimi grins, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Is that why Nayoung doesn’t like kissing her fake dates now?” Sejeong asks.

“Yes, that’s why. She blames the feelings on the kiss,” Hana answers, looking away. “Clearly the girl never had any casual make out sessions with strangers.”

“You did?”

Mimi laughs. “Hana kisses everyone when drunk. She’s worse than Eunwoo. If you get Eunwoo and Hana drunk and stuck in a room, they’d probably have se—” she winces as a pillow hits her head. “It’s true though.”

“I have self-control, thank you very much.” Hana lifts her chin haughtily.

“You settled for your ex-girlfriend’s best friend. I don’t think you do,” Mimi counters with a roll of her eyes.

Hana pauses and stares at Mimi, hurt. “You were my best friend before Nayoung was my ex. And I did not ‘settle’ for you.”

“Of course.”

“Mimi…”

“I was kidding,” Mimi says dramatically, taking a swig of the nearest drink. “I know you love me.”

Hana blinks. “I do.”

“I know. Geez.”

Hakyeon turns to Sejeong, smile forced. “Anyway, it kinda stemmed from that. Suhyun was our first costumer, needed to get some her back. Nayoung, clearly an expert on fake-dating, fake dated her and she was paid with coffee beans from Suhyun’s hometown that Nayoung loves.”

“Coffee, of course.”

Hakyeon smiles softly, wistfully. “Yeah, of course. It went on from there, I guess. It’s so we can keep in touch with our performing arts selves and get enough money for our small scale films.”

“We do have enough money, and our members are usually part of… well off families. Especially since performing arts high schools are expensive. But anyway, we made, like, three movies so far and put them up on the internet, and we have a few viewers.” Mimi sends a sneer towards Hana that Sejeong thinks is supposed to look like a smile. “All because of Hana and Nayoung’s fake dating stunt in high school. We only have them to thank.”

-

Sejeong doesn’t really know what happened next. It’s all a blur of laughter and words getting truer by the minute. Mimi’s sharp wit is almost always directed at Hana, whose eyes cloud with pain each time, and Nayoung enters the house an hour later and she’s rosy-cheeked from the cool air and wide eyed from the alcohol.

She sits next to Hana, eyebrows crashing every time Mimi digs at their relationship, muttering questions to Hana who only shrugs and shrinks each time. The only explanation they can think of is Mimi’s drunk.

Mimi’s drunk, and it would’ve been a funny sight if Hyeyeon was here to make fun of her, if Hakyeon was trying to stop her from making a fool out of herself, or if there weren’t tears forming in her eyes as she glares at a stern Hana.

“No,” she grumbles to Hana, pulling her wrist away from the now very much annoyed girl. She whines when she can’t escape Hana’s grasp, “Let go.” Her voice is that of a child’s, tired and teary.

Hana’s gaze doesn’t falter, her grip doesn’t weaken. But her voice is soft. “Mimi, enough. We’re going home.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“You’re going home to your house, and I’m going home a few blocks down. And by morning, I hope you’re in the right mind for a nice, adult conversation.” The vein on Hana’s neck is bulging, her eyebrows are tense and her shoulders rigid. But the tears in Mimi’s eyes aren’t because of the sternness. It almost makes Sejeong tear up too.

“I don’t want to go home, Hana. I’m going to stay in the guest room.”

“Jung Mimi—”

“I said I didn’t want to go home!” Mimi snaps, pulling her hand out of Hana’s grasp angrily. She glares back at a slightly fazed Hana, and Nayoung shifts beside Sejeong, ready to stop the fight. But Mimi sends her an icy glare, points a shaking finger towards her, and says, “Don’t you ing dare, Kim Nayoung. This is between the two of us, don’t ing get in between.”

“That’s not fair—”

“ off, Taekwoon,” Mimi shouts, her glare now on a wide-eyed Taekwoon. “I am just so tired, and—and I’d love to go home now, please.”

Hana sighs. “I’ll walk you ho—”

“No,” her voice cuts through the living room, angry and heavy. “Sejeong?”

Sejeong looks up, surprised. “Yeah?”

“Come home with me, please.” Mimi meets her eyes with a teary pair. “Back to Seoul, please.”

“What… now?”

Mimi nods. “Please?”

“I mean—” she looks at Nayoung, then back at Mimi, “I’ll go get my things.”

Mimi nods again, and this time there’s a small hint of a smile on her lips. “Thank you.”

-

“You can’t just leave, Sejeong,” Nayoung growls as they enter her room. “The party hasn’t even started yet. My parents haven’t met you yet.”

Sejeong stares at her apologetically. “I need to—Mimi needs someone with her right now and…”

“Don’t leave. Please. Stay.”

“I can’t,” Sejeong whispers. “Mimi’s hurt. This has got to hurt.”

“Hana loves her, you know.”

She tears her gaze away from her bag and settles it on Nayoung’s pained face. “What?”

“Hana loves Mimi. Mimi just thinks she doesn’t; she refuses to believe Hana loves her.”

Sejeong shakes her head. “Hana loves you.”

“No.” Nayoung closes her eyes, like it pains to keep her gaze on Sejeong’s face. “Hana doesn’t love me that way anymore. I know Hana, and I know how she looks at Mimi. They have the world in their hands but they’re both too stubborn to close their fists around it.”

“Hana loves you,” Sejeong repeats, needles in her heart digging deeper as she takes a step closer to Nayoung.

“She moved on, like, eons ago,” Nayoung insists, like she’s so sure and everyone else is stupid for thinking otherwise. “Hana’s at feelings, been there, done that. But she’s not really—I know she loves Mimi. That’s the whole reason why we—I just know.”

“Nayoung,” she murmurs, shouldering her bag and circling a hand over Nayoung’s wrist. “We’ll talk when you get home, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet your parents, and please tell them I’m really sorry, but I need to take care of Mimi.”

Nayoung nods, not meeting her eyes. “I will. And, well, I’m sorry for getting annoyed at you for the kiss thing.”

“It’s okay. I hear you get sensitive about that.”

“I… do.”

Sejeong smiles a little at her, her heart breaking a little, and she moves past her and makes her way to the living room, Nayoung following behind.

They enter the living room just as Hana’s attempting to step closer to Mimi. “Mimi, please.”

“I’m serious.” Mimi gulps, and Sejeong can see the tears forming from the side of her eyes. “I need a break.”

Hana’s face distorts into pain again, and she takes a deep breath that sounds and looks painful to take. “You’re drunk and you’re not thinking straight, please.”

“You’re rarely drunk, and rarely thinking straight. Figure out what you feel for Nayoung before you rope me in this mess.” Mimi tilts her head a little and her eyes catch Sejeong and Nayoung hovering by the stairs. She adds, in a whisper, gaze on Nayoung, “Please.”

“I do know what I feel for Nayoung. Why don’t you ever believe me when I tell you you’re who I love?” Hana asks in a small voice, loud enough to break Sejeong’s heart just a little bit. It’s like watching a movie and feeling for the characters, except this is real life, these are real people, and Sejeong knows both of them are hurting.

That’s the exact moment she thinks maybe it’s possible that Hana’s moved on. Maybe seeing things through Mimi’s eyes is what convinced Sejeong that Hana and Nayoung still love each other, and not Hana’s eyes which, admittedly, stares in the fondest ways at everyone.

She interrupts with a loud voice, “Mimi? Let’s go?”

Hana looks up at her, and she sees the begging in her eyes. “Sejeong, please.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Sejeong promises as she passes by her. “You both need to be thinking straight when you talk again.”

Hana nods. “Okay. Okay, thanks.”

Sejeong smiles at her before facing a pink faced Mimi. “Let’s go home?”

“Please.”

-

Sejeong’s itching to ask questions, itching to find answers, but Mimi’s sobbing against the window of the cab they got in and putting a deliberately huge amount of space between them, so she keeps shut and looks out the window, humming along to the soft song playing on the radio.

-

Mimi shifts beside her, stretching her legs and rubbing her eyes. The driver sends Sejeong a sympathetic smile as she pulls Mimi into a hug

-

“I… I stumbled across Hana’s drawer of important stuff,” Mimi murmurs half an hour into the ride, eyes not meeting Sejeong’s.

“Hm?”

“And I saw, like, all these letters and tiny gifts and just… memorable stuff from Nayoung. And I just—she must still love her, you know? And now I ruined everyone’s weekend.”

Sejeong shakes her head. “I think… I think Hana actually really loves you.”

Mimi smiles up at her, lips pursed like it hurts. “Fooled you, did she? That pretty little actress.”

Again, Sejeong shakes her head. “I don’t know. You’ll both figure this out, anyway.”

“I guess.” Mimi scoots closer and lays her head on Sejeong’s shoulder. They’re entering the city now, and people in apartments and houses are dragging themselves out of their beds, coffee pots are being filled, morning news playing on TVs across the place.

The city is waking up, and Mimi’s drifting off to sleep.

A/N:

I wrote this on a daze while my dog was giving birth, so forgive me if it's all over the place. ((and forgive me for not updating for, like, thirty four years... but you know, busy, college, life))

Also, next chapter: a break up. :)))

Title from You Don't Need to Love Me, Anthony Rapp from the musical If/Then. It's so unabashedly one-sided Hanami.

Thank you for reading!!