Jihyo knew it’s inevitable. Somehow, she has always known, despite trying so hard to deny it. She thought she’d grow out of it, that it’s just a phase, that it’s just the teenage lust. There were many names to call it, endless. An ocean of metaphors that she refused to baptise herself in.

She’d fight it, forget it, drown herself in work to the point that it won’t matter anymore. How foolish of her to believe in the excuses she made up for herself. Excuses that turn into a bundle of emotions that choke her up the moment Nayeon walks into the room. Excuses that punch the air out of her lungs every time Nayeon smiles, or laughs, or breathes.

Jihyo knew it’s inevitable the day Nayeon joined the company, with her messy bangs, and bunny teeth, and soft -oh very soft- voice. Her heart jumped out of its place and situated itself on the edge, ready to fall.

She knew the feeling all too well. She knew it from movies and songs. From books. She knew it from the way Sunmi looked at Yubin, and later on from the way Momo smiled at Sana.

Growing out of it was no longer an option, became impossible the day Nayeon and herself were announced to debut in the same group. Because she can’t grow out of a feeling that grows with her, for someone who is growing by her side.

By the sixth year of their friendship, she realized that she cannot call it a phase anymore. What phase lasts for six year?

So she didn’t name it. Not admitting it makes it less real. Or so she thought. Until a male idol tried to hit on Nayeon backstage, and Jihyo had to summon all the strength in herself not to punch him in the face. She rolls her eyes, sighs quite audibly, and uses her leader’s tone to drag Nayeon from the boy who kept apo