Part 2: Dark Circles

A strong breeze played at the ends of Sooyoung’s hair. She shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Though the hot city air wasn’t exactly cleansing, there was something familiar and endearing about it. It smelled like years of training, like hundreds of secret parties at exclusive clubs, like the heart of a late summer night.

    “You should really be careful,” a small voice said from beside her. “I wouldn’t close my eyes if I was sitting there.”

    Sooyoung smiled and turned to Seungwan. The older girl knelt the concrete barrier that surrounded the roof of their dorm building. At roughly twenty stories up, the city was sprawled out before them, a collection of multicolored lights that twinkled against the stark, sloping pyramid of Bukhan Mountain. Sooyoung sat on the concrete barrier, legs dangling in the open air, soles of her feet kicking against the brick siding of the building.

    “It’s fine, Wan. I’m not even that drunk,” Sooyoung said, reaching over and patting Seungwan atop the head.

    Seungwan frowned but didn’t protest further. Instead, she took a drink from the cheap bottle of Soju, frowned hard at the taste, and turned her attention back to the view.

    “You know, you should relax. It’s our first night off in three months. No schedules tomorrow, no practice even,” Sooyoung said, eyeing the soft features of Seungwan’s side profile. Those were features that Sooyoung knew by heart, a face that had imprinted upon her memories with utter permanence. The features of an angel.

    Seungwan didn’t answer, but her frown grew, and she eyed the soju bottle with a slightly resentful, slightly wistful look. Sooyoung’s chest grew tight at that look, and she reached out to cup Seungwan’s hand in her own.

    “It’s our night off,” Sooyoung said pointedly, picking up the bottle and hiding it from Seungwan’s sight. “You don’t need to worry about work at all. That includes dieting.”

    Seungwan muttered something about calories. The breeze kicked up then, and Sooyoung shivered despite the hot flare of frustration that ran through. She wasn’t mad at Seungwan - there wasn’t much Seungwan could do to annoy her - but rather at the circumstances. At the stupid, appearance-obsessed culture that she found herself in, a culture that fostered a sense of inadequacy even in the most beautiful of angels.

    “Wannie, come sit up here,” Sooyoung whispered, tugging on her friend’s hand.

    Seungwan looked as though she were about to argue, decided not to, and pushed herself up. She clung furtively to Sooyoung’s side, perhaps as a shelter from the wind, or maybe as a safety blanket in what she saw as a precarious position.

    Like pieces of a puzzle, the two girls fit together easily and smoothly, their edges flush against each other, their bodies in perfect alignment. An arm around a shoulder, a hand wrapped around an elbow, a pair of legs intertwined.

    There was a short pause, an amicable moment where they sat in silence and watched as the shifting, glimmering lights played out before them. While she was up there, Sooyoung liked to think of the world as her own personal light show. As if this whole construct, from the glow of the city to the smooth cut of the mountainside, was on display for her. As if, for once, she could just sit back and enjoy a release from the tension of the world’s eye. She wasn’t performing for them, they were performing for her.

She would never say these things out loud. These were private thoughts, things that belonged to her only. The only person she’d ever considered telling was currently sitting beside her, and even then Sooyoung didn’t dare allow the words anywhere nea