“… Byul-ah? You’ve been in there for a while, are you ok?”

Yongsun’s feet peek from under the door of the toilet stall you’ve inhabited for the past five minutes. Concern and tiredness blend in her voice. She knocks softly. “Babe?”

“I… I’ll be out in a sec.”

“I have tampons in my bag if you need one?”

Right, so she thinks that’s the reason you bolted to the ladies’ as soon as you got out of your stage clothes. You can work with that.

“Uhm… maybe, yeah.” That’ll buy you some time at least, until you figure it out.

“Here,” her hand appears under the door. You bend forward and extend your arm to take the tampon from her – ouch. A jolt of pain shoots right through you, but, aside from a soft hiss, you manage to keep quiet.

“I’ll be waiting for you outside, yeah?”

Normally, you would feel smug at your girlfriend being so attentive towards you. Except, now, you don’t need her to be attentive. You need her to get out of the way and let you assess the extent of the damage in peace.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right out,” you say. A sentence that could be completed with a “now, go” – you didn’t say it, but she heard it.

The door to the ladies’ room opens and closes again and she’s gone. You slip the wrapped tampon in the front pocket of your hoodie. A sigh escapes you as you try again – bend your elbow, extend your arm, swing to the left, swing to the right, bend, extend, touch bones and nerves, see where it hurts.

It’s not too bad, you decide. Keep calm, carry on, resume normal activities without bothering anyone. In particular, without bothering Yongsun, who has been losing sleep over this peculiar comeback of yours, where everything seems to constantly go wrong.

Another injured member is the last thing she needs on her mind right now, in the blessed year of the global pandemic, with your song not doing that well, Wheein whose neck still hasn’t completely healed, and Hyejin exhausted from months of incessant work and still trying to get over her back injury – Yongsun doesn’t need to be worrying about you too.

Especially because you just know she’d make a mountain out of a molehill.

But you’re fine, anyway.

Maybe you’ll go get it checked next week on your day off, if it still hurts by then. Maybe.

You flush and get out of the bathroom to go join your members.

Unfortunately, your day is not over yet. You still have to practice for your next schedule tomorrow afternoon. Every single one of you would rather rest, for different reasons, but it has to be done.

Half an hour of dancing – for you, half an hour of increasing pain – then Yongsun calls for a break and you slide down against the wall until your is on the floor.

She squats beside you and kisses the top of your head. “I know, baby,” she rubs your stomach soothingly, “just a little more and then we can go home. I’ll make you a hot water bottle and maybe even a back rub. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

You feel tense under her touch. Does that tension come from the strain in your elbow or from the effort of lying by omission? She ruffles your hair and grabs Hyejin to go get a snack from the café upstairs.

“Okay,” Wheein eyes you as soon as your members leave, “where does it hurt? Is it your shoulder?”

“I… what?”

“Come on, Byul-ah. I’m a dancer. I’ve been watching you dance for almost ten years now. What’s wrong? I know it’s not your period.”

“Elbow, not shoulder” you admit begrudgingly. “It started a couple of hours ago.”

“You need to tell the others and go get it checked.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Wheein sighs. Classic Byulyi. “Unnie, you could make it worse.”

“Yongsun has already too much on her mind as it is. Plus, I don’t want to know what it is, because I’m not skipping these promotions for anything in the world anyway, so what’s the point.”

She has been your friend for too long to attempt to even argue with your logic. “Byul-ah, if you’re not telling, I’m telling.”

“What are you telling?” Yongsun walks back into the practice room, Hyejin right behind her and sipping a disgusting looking smoothie.

“She –“

“Telling management I’m the one who scratched the company car door,” you sputter, subtly glaring at Wheein.

“Really?” Yongsun asks distractedly, already watching the recording of today’s practice so far on her phone, mouth full of granola.

“Don’t,” you get up and whisper to Wheein. “Tomorrow, if it still hurts.”

Wheein shakes her head disapprovingly. Hyejin joins the two of you on your side of the room. “Unnie, what are you talking about?” She says. “I was the one who did it, with my nails. I’ve been wanting to come clean, it was an accident.”

“Shut up!” You murmur, quickly looking over at Yongsun to see if she’s heard. She’s still immersed in the video. Hyejin looks at you in utter confusion.

“Unnie, you’re just the worst,” Wheein whispers. Before you can think about what you’re doing, you elbow her side in mock anger – not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to hurt yourself. You wince. Wheein shakes her head once again.

Home, finally. The pain in your elbow did subside a bit – but maybe that’s just because you’re so exhausted that somebody could stick a knife in your skin and you wouldn’t even notice.

Yongsun looks pretty beat, too. When it’s comeback time, you literally spend all day together, but you still miss her at the end of the day. It’s work, work, and more work. Plus, for her, the worries and anxieties of a leader, the ones she doesn’t share with you but you know are there. No time to just be together.

You almost want to sacrifice precious sleep – yours and hers – and get her to cuddle you before bed for a while instead. But she’s tired, you’re feeling whiny and you know cuddles loosen your tongue. Your secret wouldn’t resist a flood of oxytocin tonight.

So you abandon the idea and just lead her to the bedroom to change into your pjs. You throw your hoodie on a chair carelessly – too carelessly, because something falls out and rolls to Yongsun’s feet.

The tampon she gave you earlier.

She follows its journey on the floor, then raises her eyes to meet yours. Silence. And then, “did you just lie to me all day today?”

You didn’t lie, exactly, but you did let her believe it. You can’t lie now – that would be active lying, and you and Yongsun don’t do that to each other. You already feel guilty enough. Worried enough. It’s selfish, and you’re pretty sure you’ll regret it later, but you do need to share the burden.

You give in immediately. “I hurt myself. My elbow,” you admit quietly, cradling said elbow. “Maybe a sprain or something. In the bathroom earlier, I was… I don’t know, I was just hurting.”

Instant regret, just like you thought. The exhaustion in Yongsun’s eyes doubles at your words. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have had you checked out today. Now we’ll need to wake up earlier tomorrow to do just that. I need to call management and tell them about this.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now, Byul-ah.”

She leaves the room, her phone in her hand. You don’t know what reaction you had hoped for, exactly, but this is not it. Stupid ing elbow. You finish changing, and get into bed without even bothering to get the unopened tampon off the floor. Yongsun’s voice sounds muffled from the living room – why couldn’t she let you call, instead of calling herself like she’s your mom and you’re an incompetent child? Why did you think it was a good idea to handle the situation this way? Why did this even have to happen in the first place? You’re sure the doctor is going to tell you it’s nothing, anyway. You’re fine.

Yongsun has stopped talking. You hear her pace in the living room for a couple of minutes before she comes back into the bedroom. She looks calmer. Maybe she wants to talk, but you’ve had enough of today. You pretend to be asleep.

She gets into bed, slipping under the covers, next to you. She brushes a few strands of hair away from your forehead. She’s probably realized you’re not actually sleeping, but still you don’t stir and don’t open your eyes.

The sound of a kiss breaks the silence. What did she kiss? “It’s ok, baby.” Then, you feel two fingers gently caressing your elbow. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“I’m fine,” you say, dropping the pretense.

You turn on your side, with your back to her.

You hate when people make mountains out of molehills. That’s what your elbow is right now. An annoying, troublesome, painful molehill. But a molehill nonetheless. And molehills have never stopped you from doing your duty (neither will mountains, anyway).

Yongsun keeps pestering you about it. She directed an endless string of firm nos at you when you told her you wanted to keep promoting anyway. “As your leader and as your girlfriend… no way. No. No no no no. You’re taking at least a couple of days off. No no no no no no.” You know her heart is in the right place, but you’re fine, for heaven’s sake.

Your managers thought you were right anyway, that you could keep working – so she had to give in. That doesn’t mean she’s happy about it. “Remember what happened last time? With the steroids? You’re still paying the price for that, Byul-ah.”

“Yong, please, just lay off me. I’m fine.” And even if you aren’t, there’s no way you’re willing to disappoint MooMoos, and your staff, and your members, just for a stupid molehill of an elbow.

Ok, you can admit at least to yourself that you are in pain. The painkillers they gave you did dull it a little, but now you’re getting heartburn because of the painkillers. It’s not your fault that you had to take a couple more than recommended to get through the first of today’s schedules.

A wave of nausea goes through your body. What’s more, everything itches, the strap of the cast rubs on your nape and now that body part is sore too. You feel useless. And you have to keep smiling through it. You wanted this, sure, but it’s taking a toll on you, nevertheless.

The maknaes realize you’re not in the best of moods and leave you be. Yongsun does the opposite and treats you like a toddler in need of care and constant supervision. It’s quite annoying.

You don’t need to be reminded when it’s time to take your meds and you don’t need to be handed said pills along with a cup of water.

You don’t need her to bully you into changing your thermo pack every few hours because she wants it to be as effective as possible.

You certainly don’t need to be fed your lunch. She offered to do that when she saw you wincing as you tried to cut the meat on your plate, but she should know better than to try babying you in your damn workplace.

The last straw is when a member of the staff bumps into your side as she’s hurrying to and from your dressing room. You can’t help but let out a moan of pain, and Yongsun loses it. She yells at the poor girl that she needs to be careful, to be mindful of other people. The staffer is mortified, and leaves the room as she apologizes over and over to both of you.

You are so utterly uncomfortable and so fed up with all of it. You explode too.

“I’m not dying, ing quit it, Yong! I’M FINE!”

Silence falls in the crowded room. The staffers who happen to stand closer to the door take their chance to swiftly and discreetly leave the space, while the rest of the staff and the maknaes stare at you in horror.

This is the first burst of intense emotion that most of them witness from either of you. Certainly the first time any of them hears you being outright rude. Mamamoo doesn’t yell at staff.

And you never, ever yell at Yongsun.

“I just want to take care of you,” she says in a small voice, breaking the silence. She’s shedding a single tear, but her face betrays the possibility of more. You feel like a monster.

You fly into her arms. “I’m sorry, Yong, I’m so sorry.” You don’t care who is watching anymore, don’t care about being in the ing workplace, you just want to dry that tear from her face.

“I know you’re not dying, and I get why you want to do this for MooMoos, but I’m in pain if you’re in pain.” You nod into her shoulder. You’d feel the same if it was her.

The rest of the staff leaves one by one as she holds you in her arms, trying not to put pressure on your bad arm. The maknaes pretend to gag.

You plant a kiss on her temple before she hurries out to apologize to the mistreated staffer.

That night, as you’re lying awake in distress, cold sweat on your forehead, you decide your relationship can progress to the next level. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not here, not at work, not anywhere. She loves you to the moon and back. She’s earned your vulnerability.

You wake her up. “Yong, I can’t sleep.” You try not to sound too whiny. It’s hard. “It hurts.”

She’s up before you can finish the sentence. “Let me go get you a painkiller, babe, yeah?”

You let her.

She your stomach until the pain has subsided and you’re getting sleepy again. You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in that doesn’t put strain on your arm and allows you to keep touching.

You end up falling asleep on your side again, but this time, Yongsun is spooning you, content to finally get a chance to be the big spoon.

The next day, Yongsun helps you get dressed and she brushes your hair. She makes sure you’re comfortable and applies anti-rash cream to your sore nape and itchy arm.

Things are so much smoother. Everyone is visibly relieved. You wish you’d surrendered sooner.

You let yourself be fussed over. You let yourself be loved.