“do you ever get sick of it?” 

joohyun shrugs, snuffing out her cigarette between her fingertips. “why would i?”

“it’s tiring, isn’t it? the fame, the parties, the money. i know i would.”

“we’re not anything alike, sooyoung.”

her companion stiffens at those words– joohyun watches her shoulders tense and her back straighten. “don’t be like that, joohyun. i just meant–“

“don’t bother.”

joohyun lights another cigarette. the flame is the only movement in the room. 

sooyoung watches the flame dance– it illuminates the room in the brief moment before it is extinguished. she watches joohyun through it, too.

she’s never looked so drained.

“isn’t it lonely?” sooyoung says through the uncomfortable silence. “living the way you do?”

joohyun snuffs out her second cigarette. 

she hasn’t even smoked it.

“unbearably so,” joohyun says, and then she’s pulling sooyoung into a kiss like it hasn’t been years since the last time she’s done that– joohyun tastes like stale cigarettes never smoked and old Hollywood and the most bittersweet of goodbyes.

loneliness has never tasted so good.