A/N: The Tiffany POV piece that we've all been waiting for!

“Hey.” Fingers snap in front of her face. “Tiff. Are you with me?”

Tiffany looks up, as if surfacing from a daze. “What?”

“I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall.”

She gives a small smile. “Sorry.” Her eyes flicker to the untouched bowl of noodles in front of him. “Aren’t you going to eat? You suggested coming here so I thought you really wanted the food.”

“I already ate,” Taecyeon says. “This is my second bowl. You’ve just been staring into space the whole time and didn’t even notice.”

Tiffany blinks. “What? I have? Oh. Sorry.”

“Stop being sorry and get some food into you. No offence but you look like you need it.”

“None taken, don’t worry.” She idly picks up her chopsticks, but the noodles that she tries to pick up slip right through them. She doesn’t try again. Her stomach is empty, but she has no desire to eat.

“Why did you get the spicy seafood noodles? I thought you don’t eat spicy food.”

“I don’t,” she says automatically. “I just—wanted to try this. A friend said it was good.”

“A friend,” he repeats skeptically. “The same friend that you were thinking about the last time we came here?”

Tiffany drops her eyes. “Yes,” she says quietly. “The same one.”

Taecyeon clears his throat. “You could have said that you don’t want to come here. I like the noodles and all but it’s not like this is the only place that has them.”

“No, I don’t mind coming here.” And it’s true. She doesn’t mind. Even if everything from the aroma of the soup wafting from her bowl to the design of the menu floods her with memories, even if the reminders cut into her, she doesn’t mind them because she would gladly take these over nothing at all. She’s not afraid of remembering as much as she’s afraid of forgetting. “I know I’m not being very good company though, so you’re probably the one who minds.”

“It’s okay, you’re still nice eye candy even if you aren’t saying anything.” He waggles his eyebrows before adding, “Wow, I never thought I’d say that last part, to be honest.”

She snorts and elbows him. “You’re gross. Why do I even hang out with you?”

“Hey, do you have any idea how many people would love to be in your position?”

“Call one of them up. I’ll happily trade places with them.”

Taecyeon crosses his arms over his chest and pouts like a five-year-old, and Tiffany laughs. It’s only later, after he’s finished his second bowl and she’s halfway through her first one, that she realizes it’s the first time she’s laughed in a long while.

“Thanks for the ride back,” Tiffany says as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “I don’t know how you managed to shake off those paps.”

“It’s a gift, one of many I have.”

“Okay, Mr. Gifted, see you some other time.” She reaches for the car door, but freezes when he speaks in a serious tone he rarely uses.

“Stephanie. I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I’m not even sure what ‘it’ is, but you should know that whenever you’re ready to talk, you can talk to me.”

She closes her eyes for a second. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “I’ll—keep that in mind.”

“Do that,” he says, still so serious it’s almost jarring. “And hey, what happened to giving me Yoona’s number?”

“Goodbye, Taecyeon,” Tiffany says firmly, but she’s smiling as she closes the car door behind her.

When her ringtone goes off, she picks it up without looking at the caller ID. She knows that it won’t show the name she most wants to see.

“Hello?”

“Fany unnie!” Yoona’s voice fills the phone, bright and cheerful. “Juhyun and I are going out for grilled meat. You should come.”

“I think I’ll pass. You two have fun though.”

“You always pass. Stop being such a square, come on.”

“I really don’t feel up to it tonight, Yoona. I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t have to be grilled meat. We don’t even have to go out. You could come over, or to Juhyun’s place.” There’s a pause, and Yoona’s voice is softer, coaxing. “Come on, unnie, we miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Tiffany says, and it’s not a platitude or a lie. She does miss them, and she does want to see them, but. “Let’s hang out sometime later this week, okay?”

Yoona sighs. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Should I sign a contract?”

“No, I trust you. I know you won’t let us down.”

Tiffany ends the call with a light touch and a heavy heart. She’s let down enough people she loves already; she won’t add two more to the list.

The boy in the fansign line can’t be more than ten years old.

“Noona, I love you,” he says earnestly. “I want to marry you when I grow up.”

Tiffany laughs. “Is that so? I’m very touched.”

“Will you wait for me?” he asks, eyes wide and signed album clutched tightly in his hand, like he’s afraid someone will take it from him.

“Of course,” she tells him, and smiles as he skips off like his shoes are filled with wind.

The next fan is a girl, probably in her late teens, in a school uniform. She looks very nervous – it’s probably her first fansign – and Tiffany gives her a gentle, reassuring smile.

“Unnie, I brought these for you,” she says, and lays a bouquet of pink flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates in front of her.

“They’re beautiful, thank you!” Tiffany delicately rubs a silky petal between her fingers.

The fan takes a breath before speaking in a quiet, nervous voice. “Unnie, when my friends were talking about ideal types they all named male idols but I said that mine is you.”

Tiffany looks up from the flowers. The fan is turning red, a ruddy flush across her cheeks, and she looks like she’s trying to hide behind her fringe.

“I’m flattered,” she says, bright but gentle. “That’s very high praise.” She leans closer and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “You know, I’ve always wanted to hear that I can be an ideal type for girls too.”

The fan looks startled for a second, and then gives a tentative smile. “You really mean that, unnie?”

“Of course. Tell your friends I’d beat their oppas any day.” Tiffany strikes a pose with her thumb and forefinger under her chin, and the other girl laughs, unmistakable relief spreading across her face. “And thank you again for the flowers and chocolates. I love them. I’ll probably sneak one when my manager isn’t looking.”

“You don’t need to thank me, unnie. I just want to know you’re happy. You’ve looked sad lately. I hope you’ll feel better. Your happiness matters to a lot of people.”

Tiffany swallows and can taste tears at the back of . She’s a master at holding them back now, so they don’t surface in her eyes, but she knows the smile she gives is shaky and unconvincing. (And real.)

“Thank you,” she says softly. “That means more to me than you know.”

Her manager makes an impatient hand gesture, and the fan bows to her one more time before moving on and another one replaces her.

Tiffany summons her best smile. “How are you today?”

The truth is, sometimes she forgets what it’s like to be happy. She pretends to be so often that sometimes she thinks she’s convinced herself. Surely, if she can convince a whole country, then she can convince herself.

If only it were that easy.

Jessica would be able to see through her, she thinks. Jessica has always been able to distinguish Stephanie from Tiffany, even at times when she herself can’t. Jessica would—Jessica isn’t here. And not because she doesn’t want to be, but because Tiffany pushed her away.

She doesn’t know how many texts she’s started to Jessica but never sent. Her fingertips feel weighed down with the force of her longing, too heavy to press the send button.

Texts that read:

Guess where I went for lunch? Noodle Shack! I got the spicy seafood noodles this time. My eyes watered and my mouth burned but I managed to finish most of the bowl! Aren’t you proud of me?

I know it may not seem like it, but I think of you all the time. Do you think of me too?

Juhyun asked me today if I regret it. Meeting you, dating you, loving you. I may regret the way things turned out, but I could never regret it. I could never regret you.

I hope you’re happy. I want to be the one making you happy, but no matter where, when or with whom, I hope you are.

I miss you.

And, somehow, one day, she manages to send the last one.

A/N: Honestly, it was hard to get into Tiffany's head, even for such a short piece. She's a tough nut to crack, that's for sure. I hope that after reading this, you'll feel like you understand her better and feel for her more. Tiffany has had it very hard too, my poor baby. *hugs both of JeTi and then locks them in a closet together*