“Oh, there!” I said, tugging at Tiffany’s hand, gesturing excitedly to an ice cream parlor across the street, “We have to go there!”

              Tiffany let out a hiccup-like laugh, a musical two-step progression that exuded joy. “We just ate, didn’t we?”

              “I have a second stomach for ice cream,” I told her, dragging her over the crosswalk to the familiar location. Tiffany’s laughter was more continuous this time, like a light, energetic melody.

              We were greeted with a refreshing blast of cool air as I swung the door open. “Which one do you want?” I inquired, scanning the giant menu plastered on top of the register.

              “I don’t know, I’m still pretty full,” Tiffany replied.

              I scoffed. “You barely ate anything for breakfast, what do you mean you’re full? Look at how skinny you are,” I said, glancing over at her to verify.

              “Did you just check me out?”

              I pretended not to hear that, but felt embarrassment creeping up my body nonetheless. “They have strawberry flavored ice cream,” I noted after a ten second silence, turning to the shameless woman. That captured her attention; I undeniably saw her eyes light up in interest before turning her head away a brief second later.

              “No thank you, I’m full,” she repeated, her voice revealing her inner turmoil a bit more this time.

              I shrugged, stepping into line. “Well, that’s too bad. I feel like eating strawberry ice cream right now. Maybe some mango too,” I pondered innocently, continuing to eye the menu while sneaking peeks at Tiffany.

              She stood in line next to me, following me along like an obedient puppy. My lips curled into a triumphant smile; with how unpredictable Tiffany sometimes was, it felt nice to finally be in control for once.

              The line wasn’t long, but I couldn’t help noticing how silent Tiffany was being. Whenever I snuck looks at her, a look of longing was always present on her face; if we ever made eye contact, she would quickly wipe the look off and give me a smile. Was she on a diet or something? Why would someone so skinny be on a diet?

              “Fany, you aren’t on a diet, are you?” I asked as the person in front of us ordered.

              “Hm?” she replied, caught off guard by the sudden question, “Well, I’m not really trying to lose weight, but I am trying to prevent myself from gaining weight.”

              My eyebrows furrowed at that response. “What? Why? Look at how skinny you are,” I repeated, grabbing her frail arm, “You definitely need to gain some weight.”

              Tiffany look perplexed, as if those words were preposterous to her. That notion seemed ridiculous to me; has no one really ever told her this? Has she ever been to the doctor before? “You know what, even if you are full, I’m going to force feed you. You know, it’s healthy to have some fat,” I told her, turning around just as the customer in front of me stepped away.

              “I—…”

              “Could I have one scoop of mango ice cream and one scoop of strawberry in a bowl please?” I requested. After putting a few sprinkles on top, I paid and grabbed two spoons, bringing Tiffany along with the bowl to a table.

              “Taeyeon, I love you.”

              Before I had the chance to act or even process her words, Tiffany embraced me tightly. Bewildered, I was rendered speechless as Tiffany stood there for a few moments, me in her arms. I could feel my thoughts flying through my head, not sticking long enough to form coherent ideas. It was overwhelming; her words, her hug, her facial expression right before hugging me—it all left me a little dazed.

              It was only after Tiffany released me did I remember that Tiffany was foreign, and that those words meant a little less when spoken from people of the same as opposed to people of opposite es. Then, I wondered why I even took it that way.

              “Why? I mean, what do you mean?” I said as Tiffany took her spot. Stupid Taeyeon. Why ask such an awkward question? For someone who was supposedly as smart as myself, I certainly didn’t feel it sometimes.

              She shook her head, smiling warmly at me: it was the type of smile that had the power over people’s emotions themselves, one so warm that it probably was a sufficient heat source on a winter day. “Nothing, it’s just that it’s nice to hear that,” she said. That made me question her a bit; although I’m sure it was nice to hear something like that, it wouldn’t dictate that kind of reaction, would it? Did Tiffany have weight problems before? How is that even possible?

              I purged the thought from my head. Here I was, overthinking things again. Maybe Tiffany was just an emotional person, in which case my over-analysis would be absolutely ridiculous.

              “So you said you would force feed me, right?” Tiffany said, looking at me expectantly.

              I eyed her carefully. “Well, I probably won’t need to, seeing how hungry you looked in line,” I claimed.

              She pouted, pushing a spoon into my hand. “Whyy? Feed mee,” she whined, placing her arms on the table and leaning forward.

              “Yah, you’re not a kid,” I said, shoving the spoon in , “Feed yourself.”

              She sat back in her chair, frowning. “Says the woman who got super excited for ice cream.”

              “Wha—? I mean, who doesn’t love ice cream?” I retorted.

              “I mean, you got super excited, like a child on Christmas morning,” she told me.

              “I’m not a kid!”

              Tiffany smiled. “You could’ve fooled me; you know, when I first saw you, I half wondered if you were allowed to be there,” she claimed, taking a scoop out of the strawberry side of the bowl. I huffed indignantly, taking a scoop out of the ice cream myself. “There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” she consoled me, smiling while twirling the spoon between her fingers, “It’s really cute.”

              “Sure, whatever,” I said dismissively, digging into the ice cream. However, as I continued eating it, my anger slowly dissipated.

              “That’s no fair, why do you seem to love ice cream more than me?” Tiffany whined, taking another scoop of the strawberry ice cream regardless.

              “Well of course I love it more than you; I’ve known ice cream all my life, but I’ve only known you for three days,” I said after swallowing.

              “Your whole life, huh,” Tiffany replied.

              I pressed my spoon against my mouth, gathering my thoughts. “My parents, especially my dad, loved ice cream and basically always had some in the freezer, even in the winter. And as a child—well, everyone loved sweets as a child, right? So did I, and I would eat it a lot with him. I guess his love for it rubbed off on me,” I told her.

              “How often to you eat ice cream?” Tiffany inquired.

              I thought about it before shrugging. “I mean, not too often; twice per week, probably, sometimes more,” I replied.

              Tiffany burst into tinkling laughter. “You consider that ‘not too often’? I wish I could eat that much and stay as thin as you; I’ll probably have to spend an hour on the treadmill after this,” she complained.

              “Well, what about you? Why do you love pink so much?” I countered, flustered.

              Tiffany answered right away, as if it was a practiced speech, “Because I’m the youngest daughter, the pink stuff usually went to me: the clothes, the bedsheets and blankets, the umbrellas, basically anything you could think of that were distributed between two girls and a boy. So, I just grew up like that and it became a comfortable color to me. You know how some people feel comforted looking at the sea or by listening to music? For me, it’s sort of the same thing but with pink: whenever it was hard, pink always calmed me down.”

              I marveled at her backstory; it was shallow of me, but what I’ve concluded about Tiffany’s past from her personality didn’t hint at hardships or turmoil at all. The bubbly front she always wore made me forget that she was living alone in America for some reason, and at such a young age too. Tiffany mentioning these topics made me realize that she was human too, which then lead me to wonder what I had thought of her prior to this realization.

              “I’m not mean like you though. I’d have to say I love you as much as pink,” she informed me, taking another scoop of the strawberry ice cream.

              “What, so I’m the bad guy now? I wouldn’t blame you if you said you loved pink more,” I said matter-of-factly.

              “I would be lying then.”

              Our eyes met for a brief second; she was smiling, but I could tell from her expression that she was teasing me. “Well you’ve loved pink for a lot of your life too, right? How can you love me as much if we just met a few days ago?”

              Tiffany answered without so much as a hesitation, “Well, it’s not my fault. You’re just so lovable,” she said, pushing a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. Unable to reply, both because of the ice cream and because of the idea of what she just said, I just stared at her. She was unflinching in her gaze; she smiled at me sincerely, whole-heartedly, without even a hint of deceit in her eyes.

              I diverted my gaze, my embarrassment building up. How could Tiffany say that with such an earnest expression?

              “You’re just so cute TaeTae,” Tiffany squealed, “I just want to pinch your cheeks and squeeze you.”

              “Don’t do that,” I said, scooting my chair away from the table.

              Tiffany laughed again. “Ok ok, I won’t. Come, it’s your turn to feed me,” she said, gesturing at the ice cream.

              “Why are we always feeding each other?” I wondered out loud as I accepted her proposal regardless. Tiffany simply smiled in response, accepting my spoon with .

              It was a ten-minute walk after we left the ice cream parlor until we reached Tiffany’s friends’ apartment complex. Upon Tiffany’s request, we climbed four flights of stairs sixteen steps each, with her justification being that she needed to burn off the fat from the ice cream, we arrived at her friends’ apartment.

              “Before I knock, I need to warn you,” she said earnestly, grabbing my shoulders. However, I wasn’t sure if she her actions reflected her sincerity or her exhaustion. “My friends are a little … crazy,” she said, then adding as an afterthought, “Well, two of them are.”

              I looked at her in disbelief. Tiffany was saying this? Tiffany, the loud, bubbly woman who always had something to say? “What? I’m telling the truth!” Tiffany defended herself, evidently seeing the disbelief on my face. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, turning around and knocking on the door.

              The door soon swung open, revealing a rather tall woman and a woman shorter than me, but with significantly better proportions. Just looking at her made me despair at the unfairness of life. If our assets were distributed evenly between the two of us, I’m sure she’d still have some room to brag.

              “The tall one is Sooyoung and the shorter one is Sunny,” Tiffany introduced as the two bowed, offering their greetings. I bowed in response, offering my own as Tiffany introduced me, “This is Taeyeon,” she said, patting my back.

              What was Tiffany talking about? They seemed perfectly normal. Well, so far, at least.

              As I made eye contact with Sooyoung, something evidently caught her eye. “Wait, aren’t you—”

              “Tiffany-unnie!” interjected a woman appearing behind Sooyoung, placing her hand on Sooyoung’s shoulder. This woman seemed to be the middle of Sooyoung and Sunny; she wasn’t as tall as Sooyoung and her assets weren’t as large as Sunny’s, but just one look at her and I could tell that she was the youngest one, yet probably the most mature one too.

              “Ah, Seohyun! Taeyeon, this is Seohyun,” Tiffany said, grabbing Seohyun’s hand.

              “Nice to meet you, Taeyeon-ssi,” she said, bowing politely. I tried not to mind their skinship too much as I bowed in kind, exchanging my greetings.

              Sunny, who seemed to have whispered something to Sooyoung, stepped back, gesturing the beckoning motion with her hands. “Don’t just stand in the hallway, come in! Do you want something to drink?” she said as the two of us stepped into the apartment.

              “No thank you,” I replied politely, taking off my shoes along with Tiffany.

              “So are you Tiffany’s new girlfriend?” Before I even fully heard the question, Sunny continued.

              “When did you meet?”

              “Have you kissed yet?”

              “Have you slept together yet?”

              “Yah, unnie! Stop that.”

              “What are you talking about? Of course they have. Well, how was Taeyeon in bed?”

              “I mean, just look at how red they’re getting. I bet Taeyeon’s great. Taeyeon-ssi, how’s Tiffany?”

              “Yah!”

              Seohyun thankfully stopped the two’s relentless onslaught, hitting them both firmly on the shoulder. It was then that I understood what Tiffany meant by her friends being crazy; I could feel my ears ignite as I tried not to picture anything in my head.

              I then suddenly recounted something Sunny said and turned around. To my bewilderment, Tiffany’s face indeed had turned a shade of her beloved color. Honestly, I didn’t think this was even possible, but here I was, looking at Tiffany, pink-faced. Wow … was I dreaming or something? This was real life, right? Wait, why would I dream about that?

              “She’s a friend I made yesterday while working,” Tiffany said. Unfortunately, her voice was perfectly normal as she replied. Not that I was looking forward to her stammering or anything. It was probably much cuter than whenever I did it, at any rate.

              “Oh, really? You don’t make friends easily, Tiffany; did Taeyeon seduce you or something?”

              “Sooyoung-unnie, that’s enough from you,” Seohyun scolded her, hitting her again.

              “Ow! If you speak politely to me, why can’t you act politely too?” Sooyoung whined, gripping the spot on her arm Seohyun hit.

              I chuckled at their interaction, hiding my bafflement. Someone like Tiffany struck me as a person who makes friends really easily; I mean, she befriended me in just two days. Surely someone as friendly, bubbly, and energetic as Tiffany made friends as quickly as she did with me, although hopefully via other means. Sooyoung has been Tiffany’s friend for longer so her words surely held more weight than a judgement I made over the span of two days, but I just so unfathomable, I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

              “No, Lee JongSuk was talking to her but I butted in and we continued talking from there,” Tiffany explained, joining Sooyoung and Seohyun in the living room, “Although I wouldn’t mind if she did.”

              I immediately felt her gaze on me. “Well, I’m not y, so…” I replied hastily.

              “What? I’m sure if you tried, you could,” Sunny said from the kitchen. It seemed like, despite me declining her offer, she was preparing drinks anyway.

              “I’m looking forward to it,” Tiffany said, grinning at me.

              “Tiffany-unnie, not you too!” Seohyun said, joining her on the white leather couch situated in front of the rather large TV. “Sorry Taeyeon-ssi, Sunny and Sooyoung rubbed off on Tiffany after spending so much time together,” she said, apologizing for her. I smiled and shook my head; it was honestly pretty adorable that Seohyun was apologizing for Tiffany.

              “Lee JongSuk, huh? So you saved her?” Sooyoung said, sitting on the other side of Tiffany from Seohyun, but leaving a very noticeable gap between her and Tiffany.

              “I didn’t really have to, she drove him off herself,” Tiffany stated proudly.

              “What? Really?” Sunny joined in as I inched toward the couch, “Wow, good job,” Sunny said, placing two cups in front of Tiffany, taking her place next to Sooyoung.

              “What? I drove him off? I mean, I didn’t really mean to, but…” I said, just confused at the situation at hand. Was that man who supposedly hit on me famous or something?

              “Come here, TaeTae,” Tiffany said, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her.

              “Wow, you did it without even intending to, huh?” Sooyoung said as I made my way to Tiffany.

              “Why? Is he famous or something?” I inquired, my curiosity boiling over the edge.

              “Ooh yeah, he’s pretty famous at that bar,” Sunny said, leaning back on the couch, “He’s pretty much the player of the bar. He visits the bar at least once a week, and he leaves with a woman like ninety percent of the time. He even tried to hit on Tiffany once; you should have seen it Taeyeon, it was pretty funny,” Sunny said, laughing.

              That thought uneased me, for some reason. I didn’t really have an opinion on him before, but after hearing that, I suddenly felt my opinion on him fall. Then again, it was understandable to have a rather low opinion of a player, right?

              “Yeah; actually, didn’t he hit on her multiple times?” Sooyoung said. I felt myself cringing. “He also hit on Sunny, but Tiffany saved her. That was the first time we met Tiffany, actually,” she recalled. That also perturbed me, but in a slightly different way; if this Lee JongSuk had a ninety percent success rate, then was a large part of the other ten percent due to Tiffany’s intervention? If that were the case, then how many others has Tiffany ‘saved’? That thought made me feel uneasy for a reason I couldn’t identify; it was absolutely ridiculous, too. What was so wrong about Tiffany ‘saving’ other women?

              Maybe it was just that. Maybe Tiffany treated every woman she ‘saved’ as well as Sunny and I; as ridiculous as it sounded, I figured her interaction with me was unique strictly because of how bold her actions were. After thinking about it though, it made sense that Tiffany would end up befriending any woman she saves, especially given her personality; despite Sooyoung’s previous remark about Tiffany having trouble making friends, it just felt hard to believe without proof.

              This realization didn’t sit well with me; it was at times like this that I hated my social ineptitude. If only I had pieced this together earlier, then I wouldn’t have had to deal with delusions that Tiffany’s treatment towards me was special.

              “Yeah, I remember that. I pegged you two as trouble-makers as soon as you walked in,” Tiffany said, casting her gaze to the two sitting next to me, “You know, we were also taught to keep track of potential trouble makers as bartenders. I never really pegged women as troublemakers before you two walked in, but you two made a ruckus as soon as you entered the bar. My first impressions of you two, honestly, were that you were a funny, interesting pair, but waay too loud. And this is me speaking.”

              “Noo, no way are we louder than you,” Sooyoung said dismissively, waving her hand in the same manner.

              “No, it’s true! Right, Seohyun?” Tiffany said, turning to Seohyun and grabbing her hand. I found myself staring at their hands.

              “I don’t know, unnie,” she replied slowly, carefully avoiding Tiffany’s gaze, “I mean, you’re pretty loud.”

              “Not louder than the two of them, though!” Tiffany said, clasping Seohyun’s hand in her two hands, desperately shaking it.

              When Seohyun remained silent, Sunny laughed teasingly at Tiffany. “That’s the kind of woman your girlfriend is, Taeyeon-ssi,” she said.

              I tore my gaze from Tiffany’s hands, which were still gripping Seohyun’s hands. “She’s not my girlfriend,” I said quickly. Did I just sound defensive now? Why was that? It’s not like that thought offended me, even if it an incorrect assessment.

              “Oh, don’t cry Tiffany,” Sooyoung said, reaching for the tissue box on the table, “I know rejection is hard, but we can get through this together.”

              “Yah, stop teasing my cute TaeTae,” Tiffany said, releasing Seohyun’s hand to hug me.

              “We should go somewhere,” Seohyun suddenly proclaimed, standing up, “What about karaoke? We haven’t gone in forever.”

              “It’s too hot, Seohyun-ah,” Tiffany said, not having released me yet. The hug was sort of awkward; we were still sitting, but Tiffany’s hands were wrapped around my shoulders and our faces were also pretty close together. It felt really nice.

              “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she said, “Plus, aren’t you curious about Taeyeon’s singing?”

              Tiffany immediately stood up. “Let’s go!” she claimed, bouncing around excitedly, “Waah, I’m so excited!”

              I just stared at her in disbelief. That was probably the fastest I’ve ever seen someone change her mind in my life.

              “We can put the drinks away for when we get back, I guess,” Sunny said, grabbing the two cups.

              “Oh, sorry,” I said, bowing slightly to her.

              She waved me off. “Don’t apologize. You can pay by singing for us later,” she said, grinning at me before heading back to the kitchen.

              “Or you can give Tiffany that promised ,” Sooyoung suggested, only to be hit by Seohyun again.

              “I’m not that good though,” I replied, electing to ignore Sooyoung as Tiffany grabbed my hand, dragging me towards the door.

              “I’m sure you’re amazing,” Tiffany said.

              “Well, I sung for a bit in high school and took few voice lessons for fun, but never seriously tried doing that,” I told her.

              “Oh, I’m sure you’re amazing at singing too,” Tiffany said as she released her grip on my hand to put on her shoes.

              I blinked a few times. “What? What did you think I was talking about?”

              “Nothing~”

              I just stared at her; what I would pay to know what was going on in that head of her’s…

Who here has a second stomach for something?

I can’t a particular food comes to mind, but occasionally, if I really feel like eating something, I’ll eat it even when I’m already full. I guess something like a smoothie with tapioca pearls is my ‘second stomach food’, although it’s not really a food.

Enough rambling. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!

PS: SORRY FOR UPDATING LATE! My family had a party to go to and I had to drive my sister to the airport, so I only got back ... hopefully this chapter was worth the small wait (for those who were waiting)? ^_^