There were things her and Seulgi went through that Joy, Yeri, and Wendy knew nothing about, things no one knew about. They’d told the other members and mentioned on a few radio shows that they remember each other as trainees. However, they didn’t mention the fact that they had also been best friends, and even, in some sense of the word, almost lovers. While you’re training for one of the biggest entertainment companies in South Korea, there’s not exactly time for things like dating or having a social life. You made fast friends and fast relationships, and even if they only lasted for a month or two – there was an intensity to them that made you feel as though you were invincible.

Nowadays, her and Seulgi don’t talk about it, about their long and somewhat messy past. They never spoke about the times they would share Irene’s bed, when Seulgi slept over at Irene’s apartment. They never mentioned the fact that they’d wake up the next morning, limbs intertwined and their noses rubbing together. They didn’t talk about how one morning, while Seulgi made them breakfast on one of their rare weekends off, Irene wordlessly slid her a spare key so Seulgi could come over whenever she wanted. Instead, the pair ate their breakfast together on Irene’s couch, silently watching reruns of Running Man.

Nor did they talk about how they always caught each other staring in the reflection of the mirrors lining the walls of the practice room, and how most times when it happened – they didn’t look away, maintaining eye contact until the choreographer stopped them for break. It was usually hard for them to tear their gazes away from each other, period. Irene would bet anyone 100,000 won that if someone put them on opposite sides of an overcrowded room, they’d still find each other instantly.

The changes in their behavior towards one another were subtle at first, but they were there all the same, and they remained. Like the way Seulgi would wait up for Irene after singing lessons so they could grab coffee together at a local café before they walked to dance rehearsals together. She would sit in the waiting room of the studio, writing papers or studying for exams. No matter how frequently Seulgi did so, Irene would always be surprised to see the younger girl sitting there, patiently working and waiting for her.

Then there was the skinship. Irene found herself so accustomed to touching Seulgi that when she found she didn’t have at least a hand on Seulgi somewhere, she felt more anxious than usual. She solved this by constantly holding Seulgi’s free hand or linking their arms together, as if they were creating their own safety net. After a while, it became like second nature for them to be touching, hardly noticing the stares of shock from other trainees whenever they did so. It doesn’t surprise either one of them that when Irene brandishes a bottle of soju in the air one night when Seulgi’s sleeping over that the two of them almost kiss. Irene fumbles with their shot glasses, pouring them their third drink of the night, “What a day, huh, Seulgi-yah?” Both of them had been evaluated by a panel of judges in order to gauge their singing and dancing ability.

They’re in Irene’s kitchen, Seulgi sitting on one of the stools in front of the black marble countertop, and Irene behind it, searching for another bottle of soju in the fridge. It had indeed been a long day, and she was thankful Irene had provided the booze to help them unwind a little bit. Only on rare occasions did trainees truly get a break like this. Seulgi tips the glass into in response, hissing at the taste. “How do you think you did?” She her bottom lip in between her teeth, watching Irene’s face as the older girl takes her shot, skipping the chaser. Warmth crept across her body, half from the liquor she’d consumed, and half from the way Irene was looking at her.

The older girl slams her glass onto the counter, wipes with the back of her hand, and gives her an uncharacteristically toothy grin. “Oh…I don’t know.” The tone of her voice makes the hairs on Seulgi’s neck stand straight up, all low and sultry and so unlike how she’d been talking just a second before. The atmosphere between the two of them once more thickens as Irene leans in closer to Seulgi. Seulgi can feel the way their breath mingles together, “How do you think I did, Seulgi?” The younger girl feels run dry, her mind blanking as Irene draws nearer and nearer.

Her eyes are trained on Seulgi’s parted lips as she whispers, “Did I do well, Seulgi-yah?”, as she leans over the counter. She can feel the heat radiating off of Seulgi’s body, can almost hear the desperate beating of her heart, betraying the way Irene was making her feel. It makes her smirk with pride, knowing how much of an effect she had on the younger