“Minjeong.”

“What?”

“Do you think I’ll ever find love?”

The sudden question causes Minjeong to tear her eyes away from her monitor. She swivels in her chair, spinning around to face the still form of her best friend Ning Yizhuo who currently resembled a starfish on her bedroom floor. She lets out a bemused chuckle. “What’s gotten into you?”

Yizhuo lets out a wistful sigh, demeanor rivaling one an elderly man regretting his life choices on his deathbed would have. “You know, there’s a new couple from our class. Everyone saw it coming though,” another sigh follows, “and then a girl in the classroom beside ours was confessed to by her longtime crush…”

Processing the recap of all the romantic happenings going on at their school, Minjeong furrows her eyebrows. “Are you jealous?”

“No!” Yizhuo exclaims in an ear-splitting volume that rumbles Minjeong to her core. “I’m not jealous!"

A hand clutching at her chest, Minjeong copes with the fact that her eardrums' lifespan had been shortened. “Sure... I thought you didn’t care about love, Ning, what’s this about?”

She receives a scoff in return. Yizhuo's eyes roam the walls of Minjeong’s bedroom, surrounded by posters of idols and characters from various comics. “Cute 2D guys in the manhwas we read won’t give us the romance all teenage girls dream of, Minjeongie. It’s time to grow up.”

She crosses her arms meanwhile Minjeong struggles to shut , resembling a fish out of water at the unexpected reply. Seriously, what’s wrong with her? “Okay, first, you’re the one who’s attracted to drawings and second, you didn’t answer me. Why are you bringing this up?”

Another sigh.

“It’s 1999. We’re four months away from the 21st century, yet we’re still miserable and lonely.”

—which was a choice.

Kind of, Minjeong winces.

It’s August 15, 1999. A Sunday night, about twelve hours before they begin their last year of high school. And here Minjeong was, spending the last of her summer filling up her calendar to prepare for her student council duties—a far cry from her peers who were most likely singing at a karaoke booth or something more thrilling than what she was doing. The worst part? She didn’t mind it one bit (even if the other girl beside her definitely did).

Besides, miserable and lonely was putting it harshly… in her opinion. She wasn’t miserable, she likes how her life is. It seems dull and boring to everyone else but she’d rather stick her nose in textbooks and perfect her school record for the universities she’ll be applying to rather than get into street fights and drink her worries away with flavored soju.

And she wasn’t lonely, really. She had Yizhuo. Her mom. Her dad. Her brother who just learned how to walk. Her neighbor’s dog… the friendly elderly man she buys graphic novels from… to put it simply, she didn’t feel lonely. She doesn’t need other people in her life.

She certainly didn’t need a significant other, either.

Being the school council president handling student affairs puts you in the front seat to witness all the trials and tribulations a relationship gives you. Trust her when Minjeong says she doesn’t need one.

All she needs to do is get through the school year, graduate, move out of her small town and into a prestigious university where she can begin her actual life.

…safe to say, her priorities didn’t match up with Yizhuo’s.

“You know what sounds great? Blind dates!” Yizhuo erupts into a squeal, shooting up from the bed to rush over to her best friend. “I have the perfect guy for you! He’s smart, he’s cute, and he’s popu—“

“No thank you,” Minjeong swats her hands away when the younger girl grabs ahold of her shoulders. “Have him for yourself.”

“Minjeong. You’re eighteen and you’ve never even had a single crush!”

“Okay? What’s so wrong about that?”

“Everything!”

Rolling her eyes, Minjeong returns her attention to her calendar, typing in events she needed to remember. She hears faint shuffling in the back before the shaking of her bed frame reaches her ears, courtesy of Yizhuo flopping onto it.

The younger girl lets out a ‘hmph’. “When you fall in love, I’m going to laugh in your face.”

“Looking forward to it.”

She catches sight of the girl pouting in the mirror on her desk, a pang of guilt hitting her. Her lack of interest in anything romantic might’ve had a role in why Yizhuo’s in the same situation as her. She wishes that weren’t the case, but she can’t help it. All she cared about was school. She didn’t have the time nor energy to care about anything else—especially as something as trifling as love.

Sighing, she enters the last event on her calendar (broadcasting team recruitment) before powering off her PC. She waddles over to her assortment of VHS tapes, settling on the most sickeningly romantic movie she has in her possession, then pops it into the VCR.

Yizhuo’s mood does a 180 when she realizes what Minjeong had done to cheer her up. “Yay!” She rejoices, grabbing her wrist to pull her down onto the bed. They settle underneath the covers, one of them engrossed in the movie while Minjeong stares at the wall behind the television.

“I’ll love you forever. I swear," the actor on the screen confesses.

Minjeong tries not to gag.

 

---

 

August 16, 1999.

Her first day of her last year.

“Welcome back, students! It’s the first day of a new school year.”

Despite (now) four years of being head anchor of the broadcasting club, Minjeong will never get used to the camera pointing straight at her face. Her mind runs rampant with worry, wondering if her hair looked unkempt and if it was obvious she didn’t get a single hour of sleep the entire night. She worries her false enthusiasm was too obvious from the audience’s view—but it’s proven wrong when the broadcasting crew in front of her share her cheer.

Clearing , her hands are folded neatly in front of her as she gives a grin to the camera’s lens, her reflection right in view. “On behalf of the entire student council, we wish you all a successful year… even better than the last one,” she rushes to add the last bit, coming out a bit jumbled. She grimaces.

From behind the camera, Ahn Yujin—their camera operator—snickers behind her hand. Minjeong resists the urge to shoot her daggers. Clearing , she looks back down at her script.

“If you have any questions regarding classes and schedule changes, please drop by the office. We’ll be happy to help,” happy to an extent, she thinks, shuddering at the thought of the lines of students she’ll need to assist later. “That’s all for announcements today. Thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

Yujin stops the recording and Minjeong breathes out a sigh of relief, slumping back in her chair. The former fiddles with the camera a bit more before sliding in front of her. “Great job, President.”

Minjeong scoffs. “I feel like a clown.”

“You’re a good one, at least.”

Yujin bursts into laughter when Minjeong shooes her away, the rest of the broadcast club returning to what they were doing when Minjeong surveys the room. She trudges over to where her desk was nestled at, tucked into a corner of the studio. Plopping onto her chair, she grabs her checklist.

Morning announcements, check… morning documents, check… deliver lunch to Yizh— what? Her lips straighten into a line as she grabs her pen to scribble it out of her checklist, looking down at the rest. Only a couple more things to do.

Glancing at the clock, she had ten minutes to burn before class starts. She leans back, grabbing a piece of paper to drape over her face to block the light, until she senses someone’s presence looming above her.

“Pres.”

“Holy crap,” she jolts in her seat, nearly falling off of the chair and meeting her maker. The paper covering her face floats down to the floor. “Oh my god, Yujin, can you please tap me instead of doing that?”

“No. It was funnier that way,” she offers a grin to Minjeong’s unamused expression.

Expecting nothing less from Ahn Yujin, the latter waves off her antics. “What’s wrong? I have eight minutes to spare.”

“Well,” Yujin redirects her gaze, grin turning sheepish. Her hand goes to the back of her neck to scratch it—a habit of hers when she’s nervous. “I have some news for you but I need you to promise me something.”

“Promise you what...?"

“Don’t get mad. Please.”

“Why would I get mad?”

A deep inhale of breath before Yujin breaks the news to her. “I’m quitting the broadcasting club.”

…I see why I’d get mad now. Minjeong’s jaw drops at her words, the urge to shoot forward and grab Yujin by the lapels of her uniform intensifying. “You’re quitting? What?"

“I told you not to get mad!”

“I’m not, I’m not! Why are you quitting?”

“I can’t be the camera girl for all four years!”

Minjeong heaves a groan. Usually she wouldn’t mind losing a member, not everyone likes broadcasting and that was okay, but to lose Ahn Yujin and their camera operator all at once, paired with the fact that their club was understaffed? Devastation courses through her. “But… you…”

“Sorry unnie,” Yujin apologizes, “but I’m planning on joining a different club this year.”

“You’re only quitting because you want to follow your crush wherever she goes.”

“Wha— now I’m really quitting!”

Silence ensues between the two, Minjeong sitting still as her thoughts process while Yujin watches her with hesitance. Minjeong knows she can’t really do anything to keep her from leaving—and it’d be wrong to do so—but the loss of a member in an already small group feels like a blow to the chest. No matter how cool broadcasting club was (her opinion), it was difficult to recruit members because of how little she socializes.

While Minjeong was lost in her own mind, Yujin scrambles for a way to make it up to her. “I’m sorry unnie, I really did enjoy this club… how about I find a replacement?”

Minjeong’s eyebrows scrunch. “How are you going to find someone as knowledgeable as you?”

“I don’t know, there has to be someone, right?” Yujin shrugs. “I swear Pres, I’ll find someone. Promise.”

Unwilling to admit her lack of confidence in the promise, Minjeong nods her head nonetheless when she glances at the clock and finds three minutes remaining. “Okay, but you have to drop by occasionally. Don’t be a stranger.”

At that, Yujin’s grin returns to its usual state. She nods enthusiastically. “Of course. I’ll find that replacement, don’t worry.”

Minjeong gets up to pack her things, stuffing her papers inside her bag to review during class. Yujin remains by her side the entire time.

“You know…” she begins.

“Yeah?”

“…I could find you a date instead—“

Her words are cut short when a hand slaps itself against to silence her. “Goodbye, Ahn Yujin.”

 

---

 

Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweater, Minjeong steps out the room to head to her first class of the day. So far so good in her opinion—excluding the whole member quitting situation—and the day was shaping out to be another one of her regular days in school. She adjusts the straps of her backpack mindlessly as she walks down the staircase, the weight of two textbooks causing her shoulders to ache.

Her fingers fumble over a particular strap, growing irritated when it refuses to budge. “Come on, I just bought this… don’t tell me it’s broken already…” she mutters to herself, eyes glued onto the task at hand.

Each time she takes a step her backpack moves around to worsen the pain. She supposes she should’ve carried the textbooks in her arms but after the conversation she had with Yizhuo the night before, she’d rather not look like a teen romance protagonist on her way to bump into the male lead.

Come on, almost there... the tip of her tongue juts out from in concentration, thumb turning an angry color due to her persistence.

When her shoulders feel immensely lighter, she resists the urge to do a victory dance in the middle of the hallway... but when she’s snapped out of her backpack-adjusting haze, she realizes she had no part in it.

“Huh?” her head whirls around to face the ghost who decided to choose her as a victim to torment, steeling herself if the nonsense in her mind proved to be true. The school was ancient and Yizhuo liked to joke around that a malicious spirit haunts the building for the sole purpose of messing with her.

She thinks she would’ve preferred a ghost rather than the actual thing, though.

For the second time today, she’s come close to falling right on her face if it weren’t for the hand that had lifted her backpack up for her, now responsible for saving her life (and reputation). Her two feet properly planted onto the ground, she wrestles out of the person’s hold. A few dull thuds reach her ears and she gasps.

“Yah, who told you it was okay to grab onto strangers’ bags? Are you trying to commit theft in school?” She scolds, taking a couple steps back from them. Her backpack sulks with its zipper open, notebooks and pencils knocking into her sneakers.

At the lack of a response, she raises her head to meet their eye. “Did you hear me? I said—“

Her words die in .

So much for not wanting to be a teen romance protagonist.

Minjeong doesn’t care for a lot of things, especially if it didn’t relate to academics or anything that’d significantly benefit her in life. It only makes sense that she doesn’t really care about who was cute, attractive, jaw-droppingly gorgeous—in conclusion, she doesn’t care if you’re good-looking.

The first thought that pushes itself into her mind was pretty.

Long jet-black hair cascades down the stranger’s shoulders like a waterfall, framing her face as if it were a masterpiece in an art exhibit. Her lips, painted a soft rosy color, is stuck in a line when Minjeong faces her. Her figure’s engulfed by a baggy school-issued sweater, similar to the one Minjeong had on, a golden nametag hanging on the left side. The hand that had clutched onto her backpack now hangs loosely at her side while the other wields an object Minjeong couldn’t quite identify. With the difference in their height, she finds herself needing to tilt her head.

Maybe Minjeong did fall and wake up in heaven. It would explain the reason as to why an angel was suddenly standing in front of her, ready to carry her burdens.

She rips her gaze away to get rid of that odd sensation in her chest, the girl’s nametag’s glinting in her peripheral vision.

Yu Jimin.

…Pretty.

And scary, she adds. Why is she looking at me like that? I didn't do anything to her!

The sound of the bell yanks her harshly out of her thoughts and she nearly screeches out of panic if it weren’t for the girl standing in front of her. She shuffles away. “H-Hey, are you going to say anything? Defend yourself!”

The girl remains stoic, eyeing Minjeong and then bending down to retrieve her things. Minjeong beats her to it, scrambling to collect everything before she did.

Shooting up in an instant, Minjeong sputters out one last thing. “I have to go now… I better not see you trying to rob anyone!” she exclaims, sparing the pretty stranger one last glance—finding her unchanging expression both unnerving and confusing—and then scurrying her way to her class.

She’s exactly three minutes late. Her four-year streak of perfect attendance shatters.

“Kim Minjeong,” her homeroom teacher welcomes her, “nice of you to join us.”

“I apologize, I was held up by some matters,” she bows out of respect, ears burning red.

The man gives her a grunt as she’s heading to her seat, ignoring the probing looks her classmates shoot at her because for once, their usually punctual president was late.

Minjeong falls into her seat by the window. She instantly buries her face away from the public view, focusing her sights on a bird walking along the windowsill. She would’ve kept watching if it weren’t for the mess of brown hair that falls in front of her when Yizhuo leans back in her chair.

“Care to share some things with the class, Minjeongie?” she questions with teasing grin. Minjeong disregards her, reaching for her backpack to take off only for her to halt.

Yu Jimin.

At the name, she feels the persistent burning sensation in her ears worsen and she shakes her head for her hair to cover them. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Yizhuo who invades even more of her personal space.

She jabs a finger at her shoulder. “You’re acting weird. You’re never late.”

“Guess I wanted to try something new,” Minjeong mumbles as she grabs her materials out.

Yizhuo’s gaze never leaves her, digging into her soul despite class starting. It’s obvious that she was searching for any hint towards Minjeong’s mishap—a disruption in her routine wasn’t anything to brush off—and the older girl maintains her indifference, hand flying across her notebook to jot down notes.

One thing Minjeong enjoyed about academics was that it wasn’t very hard for her to become engrossed in it. It’s probably why she is the way she is, finding genuine tranquility in learning (if she actually understands the material).

She’s so immersed in the lecture she fails to notice the new addition to the room.

The door shuts and her teacher stops his ramble about Korean history. Minjeong assumes he’s just taking a peek at the textbook and returns to doodling on her paper, but the noises indicating curiousity and awe coming from her peers were difficult to ignore.

She raises her head. She really wishes she didn’t.

There, standing in the front of the room, was the same girl responsible for her unpunctuality. The almost-thief who’d taken advantage of her struggle to lift her bag (the audacity! Minjeong exclaims in her head).

The fleeting thought that maybe she’d done it out of kindness crosses her mind. She doesn’t entertain for a single second.

“Yu Jimin,” her name tumbles out of before she could think about it, volume low.

Unfortunately, Yizhuo catches it. “You know her?”

She doesn’t provide a response when Yu Jimin and her stoic face glances in her direction. She spots the flash of recognization cross her stupidly gorgeous features and Minjeong lowers her head, staring down at her paper. Of course she’s in here.

“Class, this is Yu Jimin. She just moved here, so please show her around," her teacher introduces. Judging from the eruption of chatter around her, Minjeong isn’t the only one affected by the new arrival's appearance.

She takes in a sharp breath. You hardly talk to anyone in this school. There’s no way you’ll ever talk to her again, right? It’s not like she’ll sit beside you anyways. She doesn’t seem like the type to sit near the front. You’re fine.

She should’ve known better.

A chair scrapes against the tiled floor. Yizhuo’s booming voice follows. “Jimin, you should sit over here! It’s the best seat!”

Minjeong’s jaw drops when Yizhuo offers her desk for Jimin to take, scrambling to get her things off of the table. She shoots Minjeong a mischevious wink before settling down in the vacant desk beside the latter’s, covering with her hand to suppress her cackles at witnessing the sheer alarm on Minjeong’s face.

Much to her dismay, Jimin accepts Yizhuo’s offer, navigating down the aisle. She hears a couple of her classmates voice their disappointment at not sitting near the new student—a stark contrast to Minjeong’s reaction.

Jimin fixes her gaze on her with that same expression that’s beginning to become engraved on Minjeong’s brain. She sheds her backpack off and places it on the hook attached to the desk, the object in her hand that Minjeong couldn’t see revealing itself when she places it down.

A camcorder.

“How about I find a replacement?”

Ridding herself of those thoughts, she has no choice but to look up at Jimin. Out of politeness—she’s the president after all—she bows her head and motions for her to take a seat.

Her view becomes the back of Jimin’s head once she does. She takes it as her chance to lean over to the side slightly, raising her hand to land a crisp smack to Yizhuo’s shoulder who only laughs at her misery. Their teacher returns to his lecture, prompting Minjeong to focus once again.

With her eyes trained on the chalkboard, it’s only expected that she’s able to notice the moment Jimin’s pencil lead breaks. A little ‘oh’ follows, the noise being the first sound she hears her produce. Minjeong’s eye twitches in annoyance (or something else. She isn’t sure what).

As if Jimin had broken Minjeong’s pencil and offended her, she stuffs a hand into her pencil case and pokes her back using the eraser end of it. Jimin peeks behind her, eyes slightly wide, noticing the pencil being offered. Minjeong pushes it towards her again.

Her eyebrows lift when she gets the message. She takes it, hand brushing against Minjeong’s. Her lips form the words to ‘thank you’, a nod following.

It isn’t until Yizhuo pats her shoulder when Minjeong realizes she’s been frozen for the past couple of seconds.

“Dude, what has gotten into you?” Yizhuo whispers.

“Nothing,” she clears , “don’t worry about it.”

Curse you, almost-thief Yu Jimin.

Truth be told, Minjeong feels like she’s going to explode.

When the bell rings, Minjeong hurriedly grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulders. She chants a ppalli ppalli to Yizhuo who takes her sweet time packing up, waving off her best friend’s commands.

From the corner of Minjeong’s view, she notices the girl who’d become the topic of her thoughts for the past hour attempting to approach her, only to be foiled when a group of students reach her before she does. A sigh of relief falls out of Minjeong’s mouth.

Yizhuo gets up from her chair with a questioning look, Minjeong dragging them out of the classroom with desperation. “Why’re you in such a rush?”

“Because I have things to do,” she answers simply.

“Uh-huh. Because you miss cafeteria food so dearly, that’s totally it.”

“You know what? Now you owe me lunch."

“What?”

“Because of that little stunt you did in class!” Minjeong shrieks, attracting the attention of people around them. Her cheeks redden and she resumes her fast-paced walk, barely giving time for Yizhuo to catch up.

“Stunt? I was just being nice!” Yizhuo corrects. “Besides, you seemed like you knew her. I was surprised, your only friend is me—“

“I have like four!”

“—and I’m tired of being your only one even if I’ll always be the best one you’ll ever have.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes albeit half-heartedly, falling into the line of students getting their lunch. She settles into a mundane conversation with Yizhuo about another new girl she’d heard of, the older girl tuning out most of it.

Her eyes roam the student body for a bit. Nothing seemed out of place, same-old. Rowdy cliques of students seated in tables, couples showcasing their love and affection for the entire public to see (she resists the urge to gag when a pair of them locks lips). Another group of students emerge from the hallway and into the cafeteria.

In the center is none other than almost-thief Yu Jimin and a student she doesn’t recognize.

“Oh, there she is, the other girl!” Yizhuo squeals, pointing shamelessly at them. Minjeong hums.

“You said her name was Aeri?” At her nod, Minjeong allows herself to scrutinize the pair for a tad longer.

The students they’re grouped up with contain a few of their classmates, no doubt attracted by the aura new students exude whenever they arrive; untainted by the experiences a small town has to offer. She looks at Jimin and her eyes trail down to her arm, spotting the camcorder tightly clutched in her hand—along with Aeri’s arms wrapped tightly around it.

“They seem close already…” she voices out her observation.

“Yeah. Aeri seems like a social butterfly. We should talk to her!” Yizhuo suggests, a queue of head shakes coming from the girl beside her.

“No thanks. I actually want to eat,” she declines. “Go to them if you want. I’ll save a seat for you.”

Despite being bummed out at her best friend’s reluctance towards socialization, she relents. “Fine. I’ll be back!”

She watches with a laugh as Yizhuo pushes her way through the group, immediately greeting Aeri and Jimin. Aeri greets her with as much enthusiasm, unlike the girl she was clinging onto whose lips form the tiniest of grins.

Minjeong’s eyebrows stitch together. Does she not talk? Is that why she wouldn’t respond earlier…?

The sound of the cafeteria ladies calling for her doesn’t let her dwell on it for any longer. She grabs her tray and walks over to a table her and Yizhuo had unofficially claimed as theirs, being the one secluded from the rest of the students. Taking a seat, she plucks a comic out of her bag to bury her nose into.

It's the issue she's been looking forward to reading ever since it came out a week ago. When she finds it difficult to get past the first panel, she gives up altogether.

She's distracted. Her brain was occupied with something else and she knows exactly with what, she just doesn't know why. How is the girl who'd made a questionable impression and resembled a statue able to run rampant in Minjeong's head? Was it because she was ticked off by her behavior?

That has to be it, Minjeong thinks.

She’s three pages deep into the story when a shrill squeal rips into the air, one she recognizes all too well.

To her surprise, Yizhuo seems to be the life of the party judging from the pure amusement on Aeri’s face… and Jimin’s laughter. Although she couldn’t hear it, Jimin’s eyes form crescents due to the force of her grin, a hand in front of to cover it. The sun shines on her face at an angle and for a moment, Minjeong's previously tense shoulders slump just from seeing her laugh. So she does have emotions after all.

Pretty.

She blinks.

No! Stop looking, Minjeong! This is the girl who made you late!

Returning herself to her book, she shakes her head repeatedly in an attempt to clear her mind. Who does Yu Jimin think she is, becoming such a huge blip in Minjeong’s radar? She simmers in her irritation in silence, the rational side of her knowing very well there was no reason for her to feel such a way. The other side wins.

She drops her book and lays her head on the table, lips forming into a pout once the light pounding in her head settled. Why was she wasting her time on thinking about her, anyway? She could be doing president duties right now.

Which she ends up doing, only to get struck with the reminder that she’s down one member—arguably the most important one in the broadcasting club.

She looks up. Jimin’s fiddling with her camcorder.

...Focus, Minjeong.

 

---

 

Minjeong likes being the student council president.

She doesn’t have a reason not to—none of the work is particularly stress-inducing. She’s met a lot of great people (even if she’s never really gotten close to them) and the position looks amazing on her college transcripts. Her days are quiet for the most part. Despite her not-so-exciting life, she’s the epitome of a hardworking small town girl destined for something greater.

It doesn’t really feel like it though, when she’s ordered to deliver papers around for teachers.

“I’m the president, not a messenger…” she whines to herself, clutching a box of documents in her arms that obstructed a bit of her view.

She resembles a penguin waddling down the mostly-deserted halls of their school, classes having ended twenty minutes prior. At this time of the day, she’d be cooped up in the broadcasting club room, finishing up homework that had been assigned, followed by a meeting with the other members of the club discussing any projects they wanted to do. That wasn’t the case for her unfortunately.

With the quiet atmosphere surrounding her, she appreciates the chance she gets to relax. Her muscles release their tension and she lets out a puff of air, eyes shut as the warm breeze hits her face. Having a best friend that was as rowdy and loud as Yizhuo really wears down a person, especially someone like Minjeong who marvels at the girl’s social battery. Times such as these were crucial to her if she wants to continue being her polar opposite.

Speaking of Yizhuo, Minjeong scowls when she’s reminded of what she’d pulled off in class. In no way did her expression show the slightest hint of being interested in Yu Jimin—why on earth did she invite her over? To take her spot especially? And the whole hallway incident, too…

“Hopefully I don't run into her again...” she mumbles to herself, continuing her venture to another teacher's office.

Her eyes drift down to the floor, sneakers crunching the leaves beneath her feet. The advice 'look at where you're going' completely flies out of her mind while she entertains herself with making it a game to step on each one she sees, Minjeong being no different from a kid jumping in puddles as she finds genuine amusement in her actions. Eyebrows pulled down in concentration, the box shakes in her hold each time she hops.

A quiet giggle.

Her little game coming to a halt from the noise, Minjeong lifts her head up to find the source, throat running dry when she spots a camcorder right in front of her. To make matters even worse, it's the almost-thief Yu Jimin behind it, the red light blinking to indicate it was recording. She nearly drops the box in her hands out of surprise, hurriedly using it to cover her face.

"What the h— Didn't your parents teach you it was rude to film others without their permission?" she yelps, clutching onto it like her life depended on it. Why is she everywhere I go?

From a tiny slit in the box that granted her sight of the other girl, she watches Jimin lower the camera, fumbling with the controls a bit. The red light fades and her arm drops loosely to her side, another laugh coming from her when Minjeong refuses to show her face still.

A mere fifteen inches between them, her ears are subjected to the clearest range possible to hear Yu Jimin's laugh. And of course, it was just as pretty as the girl herself, as difficult as it was for Minjeong to admit.

"Delete it! That's a crime you know," she chides. Taking a step to the side, she moves the box onto her shoulder to obstruct Jimin's view, continuing her walk to the building. Keep walking Minjeong, keep walking Minjeong, she chants in her head.

First it was the hallway incident with her bag, now this? What kind of society was this girl raised in? Minjeong muses. She's ran into her far too many times as she would've liked and not a single one of them was a pleasant experience. Cheeks flushed, she's a couple steps away from the door when her shoulder begins to ache from the weight of the box. She lowers it, no longer needing it for its impromptu purpose.

Balancing it in one arm, Minjeong reaches for the handle until a hand beats her to it. For the umpteenth time today she's subjected to the shock of a lifetime when Jimin holds it open for her, having been walking beside her the entire time.

Despite her flushed cheeks she breezes past the other girl without another word. She feels a bit guilty when she forgets to say thank you, but how could she when this girl was practically stalking her? (Her opinion.)

She picks up the pace with her walking when footsteps fall into step with her own. She makes it to the other end of the building in record time, resisting the urge to cry out in relief when the classroom's door was wide open. From her peripheral vision, she watches Jimin hesitate to follow her inside and instead opt to remain outside. Minjeong wastes no time in getting out of her presence.

She's never felt more grateful for her teacher's lengthy talks when the man becomes a storyteller, wanting to kill as much time as possible so Jimin would eventually grow tired of waiting. But the universe isn't on her side (it never is) when his phone rings, an apologetic grin being offered when she needs to leave to grant him privacy. She composes herself before taking a step out, ready to burst into a sprint.

"That's cool, I wish I had as much experience... oh, hey Minjeong-unnie!" Ahn Yujin calls out her name, her escape plan coming to a screeching halt. She turns her head, witnessing her former club member standing beside Yu Jimin.

"Yujin... hi," she replies, "what are you doing here?"

"I was just passing by when I spotted Jimin-unnie with her camcorder. Look at how cool it is!" she gushes, showing it to Minjeong who's bewildered at the use of honorific with Jimin's name. "She's really into cameras and stuff, more than me... wait, you're going to the broadcasting club right now, aren't you?"

Minjeong nods. "I'm already late, I should get going—"

"Cool! We're coming with you," Before she could even protest, Yujin takes ahold of Minjeong's wrist with Jimin's in her other hand, the latter blinking in confusion when she's dragged along with them.

And that's how Minjeong finds herself minutes later, the other two in the middle of the room with her thief/stalker flipping the most expensive device in the school casually in her hands. She watches in silence from her little corner, member Kim Chaewon sitting on her desk.

"She's pretty," Chaewon mumbles with a mouth full of chips. "How'd you find her?"

"I didn't. Yujin picked her up like a stray puppy on the street," she spits out a bit harsher than needed. Chaewon raises an eyebrow at her tone.

"Someone ended up on your bad side for once? That's rare. She doesn't look mean."

"No, she isn’t… but…”

A thought crosses her mind that perhaps she was the one being mean. Maybe Jimin didn't intend to commit daylight robbery on her in the hallway, her lack of a response being something she couldn't help. She was polite and well-mannered when Minjeong handed her a pencil, but the incident with the camcorder quickly disproves that fact. Whatever it was, there was something about her that rubbed Minjeong the wrong way.

She's half an hour into more presidential duties when a cheer comes from the other side of the room. She peeks through the glass divider, spotting Yujin and Jimin sharing a high five. "They got it to work," Chaewon informs her. "Seems like Jimin knows what she's doing."

"Great," she grumbles.

The door opens and the pair comes stumbling in. Yujin beams as she plants her hands on Jimin's shoulders, presenting her to Minjeong like an award. "Good news, unnie! I found my replacement!"

Minjeong resists the urge to bang her head against her desk. Just her luck. "She knows how to use it?"

"Yeah! Even better than me, actually. She taught me things I didn't know were possible. Which is why she's perfect!"

With the lack of tech-savvy students in the school, she knows she'd be an idiot to just let the opportunity slide. Yujin's always been the best at her job in her eyes, constantly up-to-date with the latest technology, so for her to claim someone as better wasn't something to take lightly. Minjeong's aware of the hell she'll have to go through if she chooses to find another person herself. And she's not arrogant enough to let her own personal thoughts influence her decision-making.

Jimin continues to look at her with that stupidly pretty face of hers.

She ignores the pounding in her chest.

"Okay. Welcome to the club, Jimin-ssi."

 

---

 

"Have a good night, Pres!"

Yujin and Chaewon both wave goodbye to her as Minjeong makes her way to the school's gates, the sky turning a dim grey by the time they're done with club activities. It had mostly been Yujin informing Jimin about what exactly the broadcasting club does, the latter nodding as she soaks up the information. At least I don't have to explain it to her myself, Minjeong thinks.

Speaking of Jimin, Minjeong's met with a view of her back meters away, heading in the same direction as her home.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looks up to the sky with a sharp intake of breath. The universe was truly out to get her today, it seemed.

She waits until there's a satisfactory distance between them before resuming. She stops every time Jimin does and ducks behind a bush whenever she shows any indication of glancing behind her. Without a doubt, Minjeong appears no different from a fool from an outsider's perspective, but the streets were thankfully empty.

Her backpack continues to dig into her shoulders, Minjeong forgetting to store her textbooks in her desk before she left. She shoves her thumbs beneath the straps for temporary relief as she focuses on the task at hand (Operation Avoid Yu Jimin, she calls it).

If there was a part of her day Minjeong could call her favorite, she'd answer with the walk home from school. A quiet atmosphere is just what she needs after being surrounded by rowdy teenagers and all the problems that come with them. If she's early enough, she gets to pass by her favorite bookstore, one ran by an elderly man she knew ever since she was in diapers. Sometimes she'll spot her little brother playing around with the neighborhood kids or her parents engaging in gossip with the other adults living near them. She gets to appreciate the beauty of her town, too; so long as it isn't tainted by a couple showing PDA—an unfortunately common sight.

Immersed in the scenery, Minjeong doesn't notice she's come up on a crosswalk when she's seconds away from bumping into Jimin's backside. She quickly shuffles backwards, a light chuckle reaching her ears. Operation Avoid Yu Jimin was a failure from the start when the taller girl had been aware of her presence the entire time.

Neither of them utter a word. They walk side-by-side when they cross, being disrupted by Minjeong when she moves a step away to break their synchronization. Minjeong minds her own business like the other does her own, attention taken up by the worsening ache in her shoulders again.

"Ouch..." the words spills out of before she could stop herself, her hands adjusting her straps to find the sweet spot. After a few tries she believes she found it until the hallway incident repeats: Jimin's lifting her bag up.

And then, Minjeong remembers.

The rush she'd been in to leave that morning, leading to her forgetting to zip her bag closed.

Jimin's hand on the bottom of her bag, lifting the weight to ease her struggle while simultaneously ensuring her things didn't fall.

She wants to collapse to the floor and roll away when it dawns upon her. The entire time Jimin had intended for it to be an act of kindness yet Minjeong had mistaken it for a crime. She's convinced she's never been as embarrassed as she's ever been in this moment, Jimin completely unfazed by it all as she observes the stores they pass by.

The inside of Minjeong's head resembled a battlefield by the time she reaches her home. She stops at a nearby payphone (she might've felt horrible but that didn't mean letting Jimin know where she lives) and the other girl stops at the same time as her, hand still holding her bag.

"Um... this is my stop," she mumbles, refusing to meet her eye. Trapping her lip between her teeth, it takes a whole lot of effort to get the next words out of . "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

Getting a goodbye out of the way, she shuffles away without an expectation of a response.

"Have a good rest of your day, Minjeong-ah. I'll see you later."

They're both common phrases Minjeong hears every day from all sorts of people in her life. Yet she freezes when she hears it coming from Yu Jimin—the first words she's ever spoken to her. She's not sure what she thought her voice to sound like, but she's not at all surprised when it's as pretty as her. There's a hint of an accent present that she finds herself smiling a bit at, and she assumes it's the reason why the girl wasn't talkative.

She looks back, finding Jimin grinning at her. To mark another first, she returns it with her own.

"You too, Jimin-ssi."

 

---

 

When Minjeong shows up to broadcasting club the next day, she completely forgets about Yu Jimin's existence and almost yells 'intruder alert!' when she spots her hunched over the mixing console. Always being the first one present in the morning, her surprise is understandable. Nobody sane should be in school before 7 yet here Jimin was.

Going unnoticed, Minjeong heads over to her desk to set down her things. She shoves her textbooks inside (totally not to avoid being assisted by Jimin again) and inspects the checklist for the day, suppressing her sigh when she's required to record the announcements in less than ten minutes.

“Good morning.”

Shifting her eyes away from her notepad, she meets Jimin’s gaze through the glass pane as the girl replaces the tape inside the camera. Her lips are curled in the smile Minjeong had been a witness to yesterday and she feels her own twitch a bit at the sight.

“Good morning,” she curses herself when her voice wavers but Jimin pays it no mind. “We have to do the morning announcements soon."

At her nod, Minjeong goes back to what she’d been doing, the room settling in a comfortable silence save for the occasional scratching of her pencil against paper and the clunking of equipment.

Even if an air of awkwardness remains, Minjeong finds herself not minding it unlike the other times. She’s able to complete whatever she needs to without difficulty from the other party—something she appreciates. It’s when she’s reading over her fifth paper when her eyelids feel heavy, chin leaning into her hand as they shut.

Fortunately she’s prevented from succumbing to her exhaustion when she hears something being placed in front of her. Slowly, an eye flutters open, finding a carton of coffee milk sitting inches away from her fingers.

She blinks. “What’s this?”

“For you.”

Minjeong frowns. “Are you trying to poison me now?” She mumbles sleepily, eyebrows scrunched.

Jimin shakes her head, chuckling. “I bought two because I couldn’t read the instructions on the vending machine,” she explains with sheepish tone.

Minjeong’s mouth forms an ‘o’, looking back at the carton. She won’t outright admit it but she finds it sweet. It’s an offer given by the girl she’s unsure of what to feel towards—but she’d be crazy to reject a free drink and caffeine sounds incredibly enticing.

Sipping on it, she’s delighted when she regains enough energy to finish up her tasks, incling her head from time to time to take a peek at Jimin.

Minutes later the door bursts open and in comes the rest of the members, Shin Yuna making a beeline for Minjeong’s desk. Her hands smack down onto the paper she’d been reading. “Where’d you get that?”

Disregarding the interruption, Minjeong responds. “Jimin got it from a vending machine.”

“Huh? They’ve been sold out everywhere. How’d you manage to find one?”

Minjeong spots Jimin coughing into her hand. “Go ask her.”

Yuna lets out a grumble, proceeding to bother their newest member. Chaewon takes her place with a knowing smile on her lips. “Seems like you’ve warmed up to her already,” she comments.

“Kind of… she made a weird first impression and it clouded my judgement,” Minjeong admits. “Doesn’t mean we’re close though.”

"Yeah..." Chaewon eyes the drink in her hand. “You could be.”

Heat rises to Minjeong’s cheeks and she sputters on her straw. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means? Ah… your brain is so weird, Minjeongie.”

“You’re the one thinking weird!”

Choi Jisu taps on the glass barrier separating the studio from the set room to grab their attention. “Everything’s set up, it’s time to start recording!”

Chaewon sneaks another sly grin to Minjeong before leaving the girl alone with Jimin in the room, the latter standing by the camera. She clears her head of any remaining curses towards Kim Chaewon and smoothes down the front of her uniform.

The video announcement she’d done the day before was the only one she was required to show her face in, the rest of them being her voice broadcasted over the school intercom. Even if it was only audio, Minjeong fusses over her appearance.

She’s done it countless of times. Sitting in the anchor’s chair behind the table, facing the rest of her members as they monitored her, cameragirl standing idly by. Except she’s used to Ahn Yujin’s encouraging beams, not Yu Jimin and her soft grins. She waits patiently for Minjeong to get into position.

She clears .

“Good morning everyone, this is student president Kim Minjeong speaking. Today marks the second week— I mean day— week— I'm sorry.”

Everyone in the audio booth erupts into a fit of laughter at her mistake, Minjeong clamping shut after being reminded her microphone’s on. Jimin watches on with mirth, smile widening when she receives a glare from the anchor.

Composing herself, Minjeong tries again. “Today is August 17, 1999, the second day of the new year, less than four months until the 21st century.”

Throughout the entire thing, Minjeong keeps her eyes planted on the script, refusing to move the slightest bit. It’s difficult to when the other presence in the room is so suffocatingly present (even if the only thing Jimin was doing was stand there and watch her).

It’s the pressure of leaving a good impression, that’s all it is, Minjeong reasons when she delivers the last line, breathing out a sigh of relief when she mutes herself.

"Good job, Minjeong-ah," comes Jimin's praise. She should probably correct her use of the honorific, but Minjeong finds herself not caring enough when she buries her face in her hands with a groan.

"You don't need to lie. This is the first time I've ever messed up during announcements..."

Shoes clack against the wooden floor, steps growing louder in volume. Minjeong senses something cold being pressed against her arm and she flinches, checking to see what had touched her. It was another carton of coffee milk—the second one Jimin had intended to keep for herself.

Eyes flickering between the beverage and its giver, she purses her lips into a line. "You're spoiling me at this point."

Jimin hums. "Maybe," she says. "You did well."

Gaze never leaving her, Minjeong puffs out an indignant noise, sticking the straw into the carton before pushing it into Jimin's chest. "We'll be late to class. Grab your things."

And when they're walking together side-by-side to their classroom, Minjeong finds all traces of her embarrassment gone, replaced by a singular thought: screw you, Yu Jimin and your thoughtfulness.

(A thought she's been having a lot recently.)

 

---

 

Three days pass, nothing particularly eventful or exciting occurring in any of them. The broadcasting club was doing well with their newest addition and Minjeong admits Jimin was the right person for the job. With every day that passes, she realizes she spends most of the day with her and Yizhuo, given that they were in the same class too.

The stoic, intimidating Yu Jimin she'd met the first time they collided wasn't her at all, she comes to know. The actual Jimin was unbelievably polite and kind that it never fails to irritate Minjeong whenever the older girl proves the statement right. It was safe to say that she'll keep her around (begrudgingly).

However, they weren't close. Not even the slightest bit. The only personal thing Minjeong knows about Jimin was that she consumes an alarming amount of carbonated drinks, telling from the cans of McCol she'd have in her hands every morning. She's still unable to have a full-fledged conversation with her which was fine, but there's a strong chance they won't be anything more than clubmates.

It's the opposite for Yizhuo and her newfound friend.

“Minjeong! Minjeong!” Yizhuo calls her name from down the street, the girl swerving in zigzags to avoid bumping into people.

Minjeong braces herself for impact when her best friend unceremoniously launches her entire being onto her, arms locking her in a vice grip as she squeals excitedly in her ear.  "Please stop, I'm going to get tinnitus at eighteen."

"Oh. My. God. You will not believe what happened to me yesterday!" Yizhuo disregards her complaint and continues her rampage on Minjeong's ears. "Do you remember the pretty new girl?"

"Jimin?"

"No, other one— ooh, you think she's pretty?"

"Shut up. Aeri?"

"Yeah, her!" Yizhuo nods, clutching Minjeong's hands to her chest. "She's soooo cool! Like, dream girl material. My dream girl material."

Minjeong recognizes the look on her face, the one she'd see whenever Yizhuo fangirled about the newest K-pop groups or the latest issue of a manhwa she's reading. To witness it in action towards an actual person, she's a mixture of dumbfounded and amused. "You talked to her?"

"More than! We had such a nice conversation about everything and nothing," she gushes, eyes twinkling. "Minjeong, I think I'm in love."

The coughing fit Minjeong has is nothing short of displeasing, her hand fumbling around her bag for her water bottle. There were tears in her eyes by the time she's calmed down, Yizhuo still stuck in her love-induced haze. The older girl smacks her arm to grab her attention. "You can't just say that out of nowhere!"

"But it's true! I've never clicked with someone so quickly in my life," Yizhuo sighs. "She likes the music I like and she even let me borrow her Walkman. She's so romantic."

"There's no way you fell in love at first sight, Ning. What're you going to do now, ask her out?"

And just like that, Yizhuo deflates into a sad popped balloon. She leans against a wall releasing a fake sob, her sudden switch up giving Minjeong whiplash.  "She doesn't feel the same," she says dejectedly.

Swallowing down the sarcastic remark threatening to let itself loose, Minjeong pats her back in what she hopes to be a comforting way. "You just met her... you never know, Yizhuo, don't tell me you're giving up already."

”I’m not,” she says. “I still have hope. Besides, the greatest loves are the ones that never get to happen. So either way…”

Rolling her eyes, Minjeong grabs her bag and continues her walk home, ready to fall into her bed to nap the day away. It's the perfect weather to, the sky hinting at rainfall as of late. She's nearing her destination until Yizhuo's grabbing onto her, spinning her around.

"Yizhuo, hey!" a voice calls. She spots Aeri, the subject of Yizhuo's freak out minutes ago, walking towards them with her arm locked with Jimin's. Yizhuo's squeezing onto her with exceptional strength, she waves them over enthusiastically.

She's practically using Minjeong as a stress ball by the time Aeri and Jimin group up with them. "Hi! You guys live around here?"

"We do. I didn't know you went the same way," Aeri says. Her eyes fleet over to Minjeong who'd been staring at the ground the entire time. "Kim Minjeong, right? I've heard a lot about you."

Minjeong's head jerks up in surprise. "Huh?"

She sees Jimin's fingers pinch a bit of Aeri's arm, the latter explaining herself as a result. "You're the school's president, I mean. I've heard a lot about you because of it."

She lets out a small 'oh'. "Good things, I hope…”

Sending her a reassuring smile, Aeri returns her gaze to Yizhuo. "Were you guys going straight home? Jimin and I were actually going to try out that cafe over there," she points behind them. Yizhuo gasps.

"That's Minjeong's favorite!" she exclaims. "It's really good over there!"

At the mention of her name, Minjeong pales. She opens to refute the statement but Jimin’s already looking at her before she does.

“We should go then. All of us,” Jimin invites. “My treat.”

Her smile never wavers despite the daggers Minjeong shoots at her—if anything, it widens—and Yizhuo nods vigorously beside her. Her social battery’s nearing its depletion and truly all she wants to do is take a nap. But with Yizhuo’s pleading look burning into her side profile and the opportunity for her best friend to grow closer to her crush waving in front of her, she finds herself relenting.

And that’s how she finds herself seconds later, watching Yizhuo cling onto Aeri as they chatted about music. She trails behind the pair, subjected to the background with none other than Yu Jimin.

“I didn’t know they were close,” the taller girl breaks the silence.

“I didn’t know either. But Yizhuo’s great at making friends, so,” Minjeong shrugs.

Jimin hums. “You two are opposites then.”

“Yeah… wait—“ Minjeong elbows Jimin’s side to give a light push when she realizes the actual meaning of her words, the latter engaged in a laughing fit. “I’m not that bad, you’re not any better!”

“That’s because I’m not fluent. You, however…” Jimin whistles, looking to the side to hide her grin when Minjeong groans at her teasing.

“Whatever. Just be glad I’m even talking to you, Yu Jimin.”

“I know, I am. I'm grateful for the club," she turns back to look at her, “I don’t think my first week here would’ve been as enjoyable if I hadn’t met you.”

Minjeong comes to a halt when she processes what she’d said. Jimin carries on her way to the restaurant, oblivious to the turmoil running through the other girl just from her words. Her cheeks redden, ears no different, and she feels the strong urge to unleash a barrage of swats to Jimin.

She’s broken out of her stupor when Yizhuo calls her name, the group standing beside the cafe’s entrance. Jimin holds the door open for her and her face turns into a scowl at the sight of her gleaming smile.

They settle into a booth, Minjeong squished between the window and Yizhuo. One knowing look from the lady taking their orders is enough to tell they're frequent customers, the other two across from them searching the menu.

Minjeong feels something jab into her side. She turns to Yizhuo.

‘Ask Jimin to move,’ she mouths. Minjeong shakes her head.

‘You ask, not me,' she mouths back.

‘But unnie,’ Minjeong swears she can hear her whine, ‘you’re closer to her. Ask her.’

‘Just ask, she’ll say yes.’

‘You’re supposed to be helping me—‘

“Yizhuo,” Jimin interrupts their silent staring match, “switch spots with me. The sun’s in my eye.”

Yizhuo spares no hesitation when she practically launches herself out of her seat, Aeri laughing at her eagerness to sit beside her. Jimin’s as casual as ever as she replaces the youngest’s spot, giving Minjeong a wink that prompts her to look away.

She could spot the falseness of her reason from a mile away but she appreciates it nonetheless, Jimin becoming aware of the situation between the two. The pair across from them resume their conversation from earlier while Minjeong stares out of the window, Jimin looking around the restaurant.

“There aren’t many places like this where I’m from.”

Minjeong makes a noise of acknowledgment. “Places like this?”

“Calming. It’s hectic over there, people wanting to go from point A to point B as fast as possible,” she explains. “No time to sit down and relax.”

“It must be hard to adapt then. Nothing ever happens here.”

“I think I’m doing okay so far,” Jimin remarks. “How about you?”

“About me?”

“Your turn. Tell me something about yourself.”

The spotlight dawning upon her so suddenly brings her nerves up to the surface and she flushes. “I don’t know anything…”

“You don’t know anything about yourself? That’s a shame,” Jimin replies. In awe at her audacity to say such a thing, Minjeong’s jaw drops open in offense.

In the midst of their beverages being served, she opens to counter. “What’s that sup—“

“—I would’ve liked to know more about you,” Jimin finishes once she’s taken a sip of her drink. There’s foam on her upper lip creating a mustache when she turns to Minjeong with amusement twinkling in her eyes.

In hindsight, considering Jimin has a penchant for saying things that render her speechless, she shouldn't have been surprised. She turns her body completely towards the window to protest against the girl, hiding her face from her view (for no particular reason). She throws daggers in her direction when she hears laughter.

Eventually Jimin sneaks her way into Aeri and Yizhuo's conversation, leaving Minjeong to her own devices as she sips idly on her drink. Her mind drifts everywhere, from all the assignments that've been piled up inside her bag despite it only being the first week. She thinks about how Yizhuo was right, her and Aeri do click really well... and then to the girl sitting beside her.

Minjeong's eye twitches.

She's never met anyone quite like her, someone bold enough to say such things that inexplicably turns Minjeong's brain into mush. She's weird by her standards but to be fair, it wasn't like she had many to compare her with.

But she doesn't mind her company. She doesn't mind Yu Jimin at all, despite all the odd things she says.

I guess we could be more than clubmates.

The sun's on its way down by the time they're ready to leave, drinks finished hours before. Yizhuo's smiles and heart eyes every time she looks at Aeri and Minjeong's supportive despite it being odd to see her practical sister so head-over-heels. Jimin had quieted down in the middle of it all, her expression giving off her exhaustion.

She expects her to leave with a small goodbye and a 'see you later', but she's surprised when Jimin tells Aeri to go ahead, promising to catch up.

"Minjeong-ah, wait a minute," she calls out, jogging a little towards her. "I have a question about the club."

"You did?" Minjeong frowns. "What is it?"

"We don't have a meeting on Monday but Yuna said she wanted to stay behind. Something about cameras, is that okay?"

At the mention of their clubmate, Minjeong agrees. "Sure, but I'm trusting you two to not break anything."

Jimin's eyes curl into crescents, her head nodding. Seeming like it was the end of their conversation Minjeong moves to leave first, but she's stopped again by the sound of her voice.

"I wasn't kidding, by the way," she says. "Let me know when you're sure of who you are."

Minjeong doesn't know if it was because she missed her evening nap or if something had been put into her coffee, but the smile that threatens to plaster itself onto her lips isn't met with resistance like it usually is. She spins back around and takes a few steps towards Jimin, taking her wrist in her hold while her hand digs through her bag for a marker.

For once Jimin's the one confused. She watches her scribble a set of numbers onto her arm before letting go. "What's this?"

"It's the number to my pager," Minjeong explains. "That way you can beep me. Whenever."

"Whenever?"

"Whenever."

"Okay," Jimin grins. "You can call me whenever then too."

Minjeong raises her chin in challenge. She won't be bested when she's the one offering. "What if you're asleep?"

"Then I'll wake up," comes her startlingly simple reply.

 

---

 

Over the weekend, Minjeong finds herself staring at her pager a lot.

She races to it every time she hears a beep only to frown when it's from her parents or Yizhuo bugging her to go online. It was the case for this one, when Minjeong seats herself in front of her PC to join their shared chatroom.

iheart_s.e.s: KIM MINJEONG

kminjeong01: what's wrong?

iheart_s.e.s: can i get the homework answers

kminjeong01: i don't have them

iheart_s.e.s: WHAT?? THE OVERACHIEVER DOESNT HAVE THE HOMEWORK??

kminjeong01: i have a life outside of school

kminjeong01: jk that was lame ask someone else

iheart_s.e.s: who else is in our class

iheart_s.e.s: do u think jimin has them

kminjeong01: you can ask

iheart_s.e.s: thats weird, asking my crush's bestie for them... u however

kminjeong01: don't

iheart_s.e.s: pretty please :)

kminjeong01: i hate you and your internet faces

iheart_s.e.s: is that a yes?? THX

kminjeong01 is away.

Pushing herself away from her computer, Minjeong's head lulls back, eyes landing on her ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. Is this the universe's way of telling me to make the first move or something?

Her eyes shift to the pager on her desk. Usually she doesn't care for it—hardly anybody tries reaching her anyways—and less than five people know her number, including her... if she doesn't count the girl she's been waiting on the entire weekend.

"Maybe she's busy," she murmurs. "Maybe she's waiting too and we're both acting like idiots."

In all honesty, there's a part of her that dreads the call. She doesn't do well in actual conversations in real life, let alone if it's over the phone. She's terrified that the only thing she could do was hum while Jimin carries the conversation. She cringes at the thought. Out of all people, why'd she choose to befriend me...

Pushing her thoughts to the side, she gets up from her chair to occupy herself with something. She's seconds away from heading downstairs to watch a movie when she hears a beep.

Queue her running across her room.

Displayed on its tiny screen was a set of numbers she definitely didn't recognize. She pockets it before grabbing change from her dresser, racing down the stairs past the questioning look from her parents.

She bursts through her front door and into the street, ignoring all traffic laws to get to the payphone. Luckily for her it had been empty and she pushes the coin in, tapping away at the numpad to enter the number.

Her finger hovers over the last number—a zero.

...Can I really do this?

Minjeong's forehead bumps against the payphone's wall, breath creating fog on the glass as she groans. It's been so long since she's actively tried making a friend.

What if she loses interest...?

During her bout of worry, her finger presses down onto the button by itself. She shrieks.

"No, no, no—"

"Oh, it went through. Minjeong? Did I get your number right?"

Jimin's voice had become deeper over call, she realizes first. She clears .

"I— yes, this is Minjeong," she winces at herself, "hi Jimin."

"Huh, it was right," Jimin mumbles. "Your handwriting was difficult to read. Who writes their fours like that?"

"I do!" Minjeong defends herself. "How could you not tell it was a four?"

"It's fine, I still accept you and your weird fours," she laughs. "I'm sorry I couldn't call any earlier, I was occupied with job searching. How are you?"

"I'm okay," she answers, twirling the phone's cord around her finger absentmindedly, "I was going to watch a movie before you beeped."

"What movie?"

"...The Little Mermaid."

She prepares herself to be laughed at and teased, Jimin criticzing her for indulging in children's movies, but she receives no such treatment when she hears a gasp from the other line.

"You own the tape? I haven't watched it yet..."

"You haven't?"

"Nope, I haven't had the chance to. Tell me about it."

And just like that, all the worries that had accumulated over the course of two days had dispersed in mere seconds.

By the time Minjeong senses her eyelids drooping, it's nearing her curfew. She silently thanks her neighbors for not using the payphone often and is only told to go home when she yawns into the speaker, Jimin letting out a noise of surprise when she checks the time. It's well past Minjeong's bedtime (yes, she has one that she follows quite strictly) and she bids goodnight to the other girl with aching cheeks.

Minjeong shows up ten minutes late to announcements the next day. She finds herself not caring too much though when Jimin places a carton of milk in front of her, trading it for a can of soda Minjeong had rushed to pick up beforehand—the one Jimin had claimed to be her favorite during their call.

 

---

 

"Have you ever used a camera before?"

Minjeong finds herself sitting on a hill in the middle of their school's field, a festival in full swing as students roam around to explore different booths and participate in carnival games organized. She's watching Aeri being happily dragged along by Yizhuo when she hears Jimin's voice despite H.O.T's Candy blaring from the audio system.

She looks at her from the corner of her eye, Jimin standing over a tripod holding a bulky camcorder. "Once. Yujin tried teaching me but I couldn't listen to her because of how excitable she gets."

Jimin hums. "You should give it a try again. It's fascinating," she comments, stepping back from it, "being able to capture memories in such a tiny little tape."

Hearing a spark of passion in her voice, Minjeong feels a corner of her lip quirking up a bit. She shakes her head though. "I don't know, I don't think it's for me. Too many things to control and remember."

"It's not that hard."

"You're talking to the girl who does nothing but speak into a microphone, Jimin."

Letting out a small laugh, Jimin beckons her over with her hand. "That's a hard thing to do as well, don't undermine it. Look, it's already recording, you don't have to set it up or anything. You can spy on our friends too."

The usage of 'our' not going unnoticed, Minjeong does find the offer appealing. Albeit begrudgingly she gets up from the grass and dusts herself off, stepping over to where Jimin had made room for her to stand. She looks down at it apprehensively, awaiting instructions.

"Look into this," the older girl taps on the viewfinder. Minjeong does so, snickering when she finds it already focused on Yizhuo and Aeri. "Put your hand here. This button is to zoom in," softly, Minjeong feels her finger being nudged over to a button, "this one is to zoom out."

She plays around with them both, sound effects spilling from absentmindedly as she zooms on Yizhuo's face. Jimin laughs in her ear.

When she realizes the proximity between the noise and her, the scent of flowery perfume hits her senses. She turns her head and stops herself before her nose bumps into Jimin's cheek, the latter's chin inches away from resting on her shoulder. She blinks, eyes tracing her side profile before reminding herself she needs to breathe. She peers back into the camera.

"...I can take over," she mumbles lowly. "You can go now."

Jimin turns to her with a puzzled look. "Are you sure?"

Minjeong nods her head vigorously. "Yup, I can handle this. You should enjoy the festival."

Sparing one last glance at her, Jimin nods back, trudging down the hill to join a group of students she'd waved at earlier. Although only being enrolled for a week, Jimin had already settled in nicely, beginning to socialize more once she had gotten accustomed to their language. Minjeong's circle of four years looked like a joke to hers.

She swerves the camera to the side, landing on the girl as she talked. She seemingly cracks a joke, the people around her laughing at whatever she'd said. Their phone call pops into mind.

Does she treat everyone the way she treats me?

Minjeong inhales sharply.

She immediately purges the thought from her brain, cursing herself for even thinking of something like that. She moves the camera away until Jimin looks right into the lens, her lips forming her signature grin. She waves at Minjeong.

Hesitating, she returns it. Jimin points to a stand selling snacks then to her, her way of asking if she wanted any. Minjeong nods slowly and watches her head towards it without missing a beat.

She gets her answer when Jimin runs up the hill and to her, beaming as she waves her purchase in the air excitedly. Minjeong can't help but laugh at the sight, the rest of their day spent glued to each other's side.

(For broadcasting club purposes.)

 

---

 

"God," Yujin yawns, stretching her arms into the air, "I'm so tired."

A chorus of agreeing murmurs follow as the club finishes tidying up after being subjected to cleaning duties when the festival ended. Minjeong lets out a soft whine as her weariness catches up to her, legs struggling to carry her to the water fountain.

She bends down to reach the faucet and rejoices when the water's cold, using it as a temporary remedy to her tiredness. From the fountain beside her she hears a shriek that resembles Chaewon's voice, suspicions confirmed when she spots Yujin flicking water onto her with an impish grin.

"It's cold!" Chaewon exclaims as she defends herself against her, another round of shrieks ensuing when Yuna and Jisu join in on their game.

"I feel like a babysitter," Minjeong mumbles in a fond tone as she leans against the fountain to watch. Someone settles beside her and their shoulder bumps into hers.

"You'd think Yujin was still a member because of how often she drops by," Jimin comments. Minjeong gives a distracted bob of her head.

The subject of her exchange yells out a 'yah!' when Yuna lands a decent amount of water on her, the front of her shirt covered in wet spots. "I'm getting ganged up on! Unnies, help me!"

Minjeong laughs at Yujin's request for help but remains unmoving for the most part, assuming Jimin would heed her call. She feels a nudge to her side, the latter making a motion for her to join into the water fight. She scrunches her nose, shaking her head.

"They get rowdy in things like these, I'm better off over here," Minjeong says. "You can go ahead. I'll watch."

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "Scared of a little water, Kim?"

"Pfft. No way."

She receives no response and Minjeong assumes she'd gone to join them. The spot beside her becomes empty and a sinking feeling occurs in her for a reason she can't exactly pinpoint. Brushing it off, she stuffs her hands in her pockets to find somewhere to sit at, intending to wait.

Until she feels a drop fall onto the back of her neck, then many more land on her arms.

Her head whips around and finds the culprit red handed, the group pausing their own battle momentarily to watch as Jimin flicks another barrage of droplets to her face. Minjeong gasps when she does, opening her eyes to a cackling Jimin.

She sticks her own hand beneath the faucet and attacks back with more vigor, the group cheering when Jimin successfully ropes their leader into their antics. She ends up getting targeted, her uniform the most notably affected among them all, but she finds herself not caring enough when her cheeks end up aching from the force of her grin.

In the midst of it, she's hit with a sense of belonging—she's experiencing what it was to be a teenager for once.

Jimin takes notice of her change in demeanor and stops for a moment, her concerns raised when she appears distraught. "Minjeong," she calls, "is something wrong?"

Minjeong turns to her and she shakes her head. "No," she denies, "I'm just thinking. That's all."

"In deep thought during this? You're strange," Jimin teases, attempting to lighten her mood. It succeeds when Minjeong hisses at her, returning the action with a laugh.

The water fight continues with their target switching every once in a while only to return to each other when they're in the other's space. Jisu, who'd taken a break, squeals.

"Hey, I'm off-limits!" She yells when she feels water land on her shoulder. Another drop and she realizes it's falling on her head, the source coming from the grey sky above. "Nevermind, guys! It's raining!"

The instant her warning reaches them, everyone simultaneously scrambles to the building, shoes beating against the pavement with a sound similar to a stampede. Yuna bursts into laughter the moment they're in the clear, pointing at Minjeong whose uniform had gotten drenched, hair the same state.

"Yah, you guys kept targetting me the entire time!" Minjeong complains. Jimin chuckes from beside her.

"It's the leader treatment. Take it as a thank you for being one," she says, ruffling her hair with her hand. Minjeong narrows her eyes at her.

Chaewon breaks their exchange when she slings her bag over her shoulder, ready to get going. "I'm gonna go now before I get in trouble for being late. See you all tomorrow!"

Yujin trails behind her before Yuna and Jisu both follow, leaving the other two alone. Minjeong, bothered by the state of her shirt, decides to make a stop at the club room to dry off before heading home.

She's almost to the doors when she still feels a presence behind her. "Why aren't you going home yet?"

"I don't feel like it yet. I'll walk with you," Jimin says, opening it for her.

Minjeong, although feeling the need to protest, nods in response. The older girl trails behind her as they make their way through the building and to the club room where she retrieves a hand towel from her desk as well as searching for an umbrella to take.

She frowns when she comes empty handed. I could've swore I had one, she thinks, walking over to the storage closet to find one but to no avail.

"Jimin? Did you bring an umbrella?"

"No. I didn't think it'd rain today."

Minjeong purses her lips into a line. Okay, that's fine. There was no use in drying herself off when she'll get rained on again during her walk, but at least it was only a light drizzle. She takes a peek out of the window only for her jaw to drop when it was no longer a light drizzle.

She sighs. She'd noticed how it'd looked a lot more gloomy in the recent days yet she forgets to bring an umbrella the day the weather matches the sky. Jimin on the other hand doesn't seem too affected, pulling out a chair to sit on.

"Are you in a hurry to get home?" She asks. Minjeong shakes her head but frowns nonetheless.

"I don't have a way to tell my parents I'll be home late. They'll probably think of the worst case scenario," she says.

Jimin sticks her hand in her pocket before taking it out, handing something over to Minjeong. When she takes it, she finds a flip phone resting in her palm.

"Oh, thank you..." she mumbles, flipping it open to dial her home phone's number. She places it to her ear as it rings, the line answering after the fifth one.

"Hello? Who is this?" her mother asks.

"It's Minjeong..."

"Huh? Minjeong? Where are you? It's getting late."

"I'm still at school, the rain's too heavy for me to walk in and I forgot my umbrella."

"Ahh, okay... how was the festival? Did you have fun? Are you fine? Did you get rained on? Are you alone?"

Struck with a barrage of questions, Minjeong opens and closes , processing them all. "I'm fine, I had fun... and no, I'm not alone, I'm with a friend."

"Oh, that's good. Is it that Jimin girl you're always talking about? Tell her to come over sometime! You hardly meet anyone new—"

Minjeong's eyes widen at her mother's words. "Yah, yah, okay, I will! Bye now, I'll be home soon!"

She rushes to end the call before her mother exposes her even further, turning back to Jimin with flushed cheeks. She's not inclined to say anything until she spots the look on the other girl's face. Dread settles in the pit of her stomach.

"You were listening the entire time, weren't you?"

Jimin grins cheekily. "I'd love to meet your mom."

Rolling her eyes, Minjeong hands her back her phone and leaves her to her own devices, heading to her desk to review the checklist for tomorrow. The pitter patter of the rain aids as a soundtrack along with Jimin dozing off in an uncomfortable looking position, head against the wall.

Minjeong shifts in her seat knowing Jimin forwent her exhaustion to keep her company and ensured she didn't go home alone. She rests a hand on her chin, a fraction of her face hidden which allows her to observe her longer than usual.

The girl she didn't think she'd regard as anything past clubmate had been nothing but exceptionally sweet and thoughtful to her ever since their first encounter. Since then, Minjeong's been feeling an entirely new spectrum of emotions she never thought she'd experience, a smile present on her face more often than not. Her days were filled with broadcasting club with Jimin, class with Jimin, lunch with Jimin, then ending the day with a phone call with Jimin.

Minjeong's eyes trace her features, from her slightly scrunched eyebrows to the beauty mark below her lip. Her lips quirk a bit when opens to yawn, chest rising up then down when she sighs.

When she's with her, Minjeong feels like the lead of romance movie, Jimin acting as her love interest. Despite her distaste for the genre, she finds it undeniable.

For once, she doesn't question how absurd her thoughts were because Yu Jimin was the textbook definition of the perfect one, she realizes with a slight grimace. She doesn't stay on the topic for longer when she's knocked out of her mind by a loud clap outside.

"Is that thunder?" She questions more to her herself. Jimin stirs at the noise.

Another one strikes. Awesome. Great. Terrific. It's gotten worse.

The thought of spending the night at school—although she doesn't mind school itself—was a harrowing one. It'd be difficult to get any sleep considering there was nowhere to lay and the environment was far too off-putting for her to fall asleep in. All she wants to do is bury herself in her covers. She shivers, feeling a cold breeze hit her skin.

Brushing it off, Minjeong busies herself with more documents and paperwork, twirling a pen in her hand as she reads. Jimin had returned to dozing off, her nonchalant demeanor as present as ever.

More claps of thunder come yet they're significantly smaller than the other times. Minjeong isn't bothered by it too much.

One that sounds like it might as well have been beside her ear strikes.

In a rather disgraceful manner, Minjeong sinks down to the floor and under her desk, nestling herself beneath it with her legs up to her chest. It wasn't that she was scared of thunder... to the point of genuine distress. She just hated loud noises (excluding Yizhuo's laughter) and the irrational worry that she'll get struck makes its appearance from time to time.

The chair in front of her rolls to the side and Jimin plops down in a cross-legged position in its place. "Hi," she greets. "What are you doing down here?" she asks, voice cloaked in fatigue.

"Making myself comfortable."

"I get why you'd choose that spot. It's cozy."

The comment earns a chuckle from Minjeong. Jimin smiles lazily in response, hands rubbing away the sleep in her eyes. The younger girl's tense shoulders slump as her mind drifts away from the weather outside, the alarms in her head gradually quieting down.

Another clap.

She releases a small squeak.

Instead of laughing and poking fun at her, Jimin leans over to the side, the purpose hidden behind the desk. Minjeong hears a zipper and then she comes back into view, revealing a pair of headphones and a Walkman to her.

"I bought a new cassette yesterday. Do you like Fin.K.L?" She asks, loading the tape in for her before placing the headphones on Minjeong gently.

Minjeong nods, peering up at her through her eyelids in curiosity as she adjusts the fitting. Sending one last smile her way, Jimin presses play on the Walkman, the rain soon being drowned out by the sound of Lee Hyori's voice.

Jimin bobs her head a bit as if she could hear the music as well and Minjeong laughs. The latter's eyes slowly shut in response to the music, Jimin following her lead as she does.

The room was as cold as it could get from the storm but Minjeong's never felt warmer.

 

---

 

Minjeong wakes up in her bed the next morning.

She buries herself further beneath her covers, nose scrunching as her cheek squishes against her pillow. The sunlight blinds her through her eyelids and she flips to the side away from her window, content when she's in the right position to fall back asleep.

Less than a minute later, she shoots up from her bed, blanket falling to the floor. Her suspicions are proven correct when she's still wearing her uniform.

She bursts through her door and down the stairs, confusion, puzzlement, bewilderment all coursing through her simultaneously as she searches for answers. She detects the scent of her mother's kimchi-jjigae from the kitchen and she rushes over there, sliding across the tile in her socks.

"Oh. You're up already, good morning Minjeong," her mother greets. "Do you want to test it?"

"How did I get home?" she questions immediately. Her mother takes a sip of the broth before answering her.

"Thank your friend. She's such an angel Minjeongie, how'd you find her? Imagine my surprise when I open the door and you're sleeping on her back," she says, rummaging through the cupboards for a container. "Can you give this to her when you see her?"

Minjeong's mouth repeatedly opens and closes, at a loss for words. She's trying to make sense of it all but she struggles to. "I was on her back...?"

"Yup," her mother confirms, popping the 'p'. "She carried you the entire way. If you ever bring someone home, let it be her, hm?"

Her eyes widen and she gasps incredulously at her mother before racing away, face reddening an ungodly amount. Her mind was an incomprehensible mess at that point and she searches around for her pager, swiping it from her dresser.

Answer, Ning Yizhuo, she urges in her mind as she powers on her PC.

kminjeong01 has entered the chatroom.

iheart_s.e.s has entered the chatroom.

iheart_s.e.s: whoa ur the one asking for me this time

iheart_s.e.s: which u never do what happened

kminjeong01: help

iheart_s.e.s: with??

iheart_s.e.s: why r u so slow at typing

iheart_s.e.s: im going to die from suspense before u finish

kminjeong01: can i process my crisis first

iheart_s.e.s: u can process it faster if u tell me what its abt

kminjeong01: how r u supposed to tell u have a crush on someone

iheart_s.e.s: WTF

On a random morning in 1999, Minjeong's eighteen year crush-free streak breaks.

 

---

 

Act natural. Act natural. Act natural.

Minjeong stands in front of an apartment door with a container of warm stew in her hands after spending a good five minutes fussing over her appearance. She peeks down at her uniform, checking if her tie was out of place and shirt tucked in.

After confirming that yes, all the weird feelings she's been experiencing was because of a crush, she finds herself caring about things she's never cared about previously. She knows it's silly (she's Kim Minjeong, of course she does) and she's going to go insane if her bangs keep moving.

She's mumbling her irritation under her breath as she fixes them when the door opens, revealing Jimin who looks like her usual self.

Minjeong's ears redden.

"Here you go," she s the container into Jimin's hands without giving a greeting beforehand. Jimin, who was about to, takes it from her in confusion, even more so when Minjeong spins around and heads back the way she came.

"Minjeong, wait," Jimin disappears into her apartment to set down the food and grab her bag. She shuts the door and locks it, catching up to her much to her dismay. "In a hurry?"

"Yes," she responds, speeding her pace. She spares no glance to the other girl as she embarks on her normal route to school, continuing as if she were walking alone. She resists the urge to look at Jimin and the serene expression she gets whenever she admires the scenery.

Minjeong has never felt more thankful when the broadcasting room comes into view, Jimin letting out a quiet noise of surprise when she breaks into a near sprint to get inside. She doesn't pay attention to anyone either, giving a wave to whoever says hello before confining herself to her little corner.

Yuna, Jisu, and Chaewon all share a look then turn to Jimin, silently asking what was going on with their president. Jimin gives a shrug.

Minutes later there's a knock on the glass barrier separating the room. Minjeong looks up from the work she wasn't able to concentrate on, swiping her script from her desk and then making her way to the center table.

Like any other time, Minjeong glances in Jimin's direction and receives an encouraging smile along with a thumbs up. If it were like any other time, it'd give her enough faith in herself to get through announcements, but with this one all it brings is a dose of nervousness.

Jimin's grin falters momentarily only to return to its usual state when Minjeong opens announcements with an overly cheery 'good morning!'.

 

---

 

"How's your first day going," Yizhuo pauses, waving at Aeri from across the field, "having a crush?"

Minjeong grumbles into her shoulder, shielding her face away from the world. "Horrible. I hate it. Why do you like having crushes? I can't do this anymore Ning, are you sure this is a crush?"

Yizhuo laughs at her reaction, giving a firm nod. "Yes, Minjeong, you have a crush."

"I hate it."

During Yizhuo's babbling about all the romance movies she'll subject Minjeong into watching later, a cheer from nearby interrupts their conversation. Minjeong peeks to see Jimin smashing the birdie in a match of badminton, the cause of the cheer from before. And she's athletic. Who wouldn't have a crush on her?

As if Jimin has some sort of detector in her that senses whenever Minjeong's looking in her direction, she gives her a grin—one that riles up a feeling in her chest.

Despite all the ill thoughts she feels towards her new finding, it wasn't as horrible as she says it is. Nothing had changed between them at all nor does Jimin suspect anything. The only thing Jimin knows (and thinks) is that she has a headache. Minjeong intends to sweep everything under the carpet when tomorrow comes and she commences Operation Get Over Yu Jimin. 

"You know, she looks at you a lot," Yizhuo says.

"I mean, we're always together... it'd be pretty weird if she didn't..."

"Not in that way obviously," she clarifies. "There's just something about the way she looks at you."

"Stop feeding me into your delusions."

 

---

 

"WHAT? MINJEONG-UNNIE HAS A CRUSH?"

And like all things in her life, Minjeong should've saw it coming.

Bringing Yizhuo to the broadcasting club was a mistake, knowing she only wanted to tag along to watch her best friend suffer in the presence of her crush. She forgets that her and Yujin were close even if they don't hang out much, mostly to talk about everything going on in their school.

Not a single person wasn't looking in their direction when Yujin exclaims, not even the girl they were talking about. Minjeong wants to crawl under her desk for eternity but a certain memory there prevents her from doing so.

Yizhuo throws a cackling fit, Yujin still looking wide-eyed at their president who carries on with her things like nothing happened. Chaewon clears to break up the awkward silence, everyone returning to what they'd been doing.

Save for one person.

Minjeong's eye twitches when she smells the flowery perfume floating closer to her. "Hi," Jimin greets, "how's your head?"

"It's okay now," she says, ending her lie. "The pain of doing paperwork trumps it."

She's convinced Jimin would laugh no matter how lame her jokes are—she coughs into her arm to stop the blush creeping up her face—when she does just that. Jimin grabs a chair and pulls it up right beside her desk, opting to stay beside her instead of the table where it was more convenient to work with her camcorder.

Taking the chance to express her gratitude, Minjeong drops her volume low for only Jimin to hear. "Thank you for yesterday."

"You're welcome. You're a really heavy sleeper, by the way."

Releasing an indignant noise, Minjeong nudges her lightly in the side.

The room was quiet for the most part, save for Yujin and Yizhuo's gossiping and the other three chatting. Unsurprisingly, the disturber of the peace is Yujin once again when she lets out a squeak.

"I am not in love with Wonyoung. I just met her like three months ago!" Yujin defends herself from whatever Yizhuo had said. The latter rolls her eyes.

"Okay, and? There's something called falling in love at first sight. Everyone experiences love differently."

"But she's not my first love, first loves are cursed! I won't call her that. Minjeong-unnie, back me up!"

Minjeong groans when she's pulled into the conversation without a choice, especially when it's a topic she has zero experience nor interest in. "What do you want me to say? I've never even had one. You already know my stance on things like this."

"I don't," Jimin cuts in. She regards her with a curious look and Minjeong would've thought it was adorable if it weren't for the topic. "What do you think about first love, Kim Minjeong?"

Her eyes immediately dart away from her and to the ground, her sneakers becoming a lot more interesting. "First love never works out."

Jimin hums. "Why do you think that?"

The room suddenly feels like she's in an interrogation room, her hands restricted by cuffs as Detective Yu questions her. "I-I don't know, they just don't. And as a disliker of anything romantic, I stand by that."

"Yes!" Yujin interjects, bobbing her head. "They're cursed, see!"

Ready to move away from anything regarding love, Minjeong leans back into her chair, shoulders slumping when she's finished with all the tasks she needed to complete for the day. She'd relax more if it weren't for the eyes currently burning into her side profile. She looks at Jimin.

"What?" she asks.

"I can prove you wrong," Jimin says. Prove me wrong in... why does she want to prove me wrong in that? Alarms sound in her head as she ponders, jaw clenching slightly. She scrambles for a response.

"Right," Minjeong ignores her calculating gaze, "how will you do that, Miss Romantic?"

Jimin's smile remains unwavering. "Fall in love with me. Let me be your first love."

 

---

 

Minjeong had gotten used to the change in her routine ever since school had started—also known as new student Yu Jimin.

She's used to most of her day going by in the presence of the older girl, occasionally ending it with her over the phone on some nights. There were times where they'd bump into each other on the way to school, resulting in Minjeong starting her morning with her too.

Yu Jimin became a constant in her life in record time. She grew used to it.

What she isn't used to is not having her around, she realizes when Jimin sticks to Aeri's side the entire morning they're in the same vicinity as each other. Yizhuo sends her a pitiful look, patting her on the head.

"She usually asks if you want to walk with her to the club by now," Yizhuo—another person used to Minjeong's routine—says. "Did something happen?"

Minjeong shakes her head adamantly. "No, nothing happened." Liar.

Her best friend sees right through her but she chooses not to prolong the conversation. She gives her a hug before she leaves to do the announcements, whispering a 'good luck' in her ear. Both for the club and for the situation Minjeong was in.

On her way to the building, Minjeong expects Jimin to realize she was there and separate from the group to walk with her. She winces at the disappointment that seeps in when Jimin doesn't even look in her direction, her feet picking up her pace.

During announcements is when Jimin comes into the room. Minjeong wants to scold her for being late and for entering at such a time, but she knows it'd be unfair. She was the one who messed up by running out on her without a single word anyways.

"Fall in love with me. Let me be your first love."

Minjeong's head bumps into her desk at the memory, the noise attracting the attention of her classmates. Yizhuo sighs.

"I hate it when you sulk. Can't you just go up to her?"

"I can't."

"Did you mess up or something? Because it seems like she's ignoring you and that's Jimin we're talking about—"

"Ning Yizhuo, do your work."

Her routine's ruined, the rest of her day spent casting hesitant glances to Yu Jimin who hasn't looked in her direction a single time. She even tried waving once only for it to go unnoticed when Jimin turns around at the last second. Ignoring the sheer amount of embarrassment it caused, she feels like absolute crap every time the memory pops itself into her mind.

Minjeong prides herself on her intelligence, but she wishes she had a bit more to realize that asking if she was joking and then proceeding to run away when Jimin says no was a horrible idea. I'm screwed... How do you even apologize in this situation...?

There's a meeting in the club room after school, one regarding a project their principal had asked for them to conduct. Minjeong waits patiently (anxiously) at the head of the table for the door to open and reveal the last member needed.

The last bell of the day rings and slowly the tiniest bit of hope she had left dwindles. She clears , ready to start.

"I'm sorry for being late," Jimin quite literally bursts through, breath ragged. "I had to speak to my teacher. He wouldn't let me go until I heard his story about how his wife and him met."

Her words come out jumbled and rushed, trudging over to the seat she unofficially claimed as hers—the one beside Minjeong's. The latter musters up the courage she has remaining to offer a reassuring smile. To her surprise, Jimin's shoulders slump, her stare trained on her for a second too long.

Aware of her reddening cheeks, Minjeong places the project summary in the middle of the table for everyone to see.

"We'll be split into two groups for this, but Principal Kwon wants us to do some sort of time capsule, I guess?" She explains, waiting for a nod from everyone. "We have to interview a few upperclassmen on where they see themselves in ten years."

Yuna snorts. "We're going to get a bunch of I don't know's, watch."

"Yeah, probably... um, since Chaewon knows enough about cameras to record, she'll be the leader for another group. But I... already chose the teams last week, so..." she pushes the paper to them quickly, dreading any input she might receive from a certain someone.

Yuna, Jisu, and Chaewon all give each other high fives. Jimin stays quiet in her seat, looking down at the paper.

Minjeong holds back the grimace fighting its way to her face. "If you want to change, I can—"

"No, it's okay," Jimin shakes her head. "I'd love to be your partner."

Minjeong berates herself for finding a second meaning to it, instead opting to feel relieved. She nods softly to her.

"Okay, well, we'll start next week," she says, standing up. "You guys can go now."

Like always, Minjeong's the last to leave the room. She typically rushes to keep Jimin from waiting too long, which she was in the middle of doing when the doorway she usually waits for her by was empty.

iheart_s.e.s: cheer up minjeongie

iheart_s.e.s: we can eat ice cream and watch romcoms

kminjeong01: i can't stand couples being happy

iheart_s.e.s: ok no romcoms

"Minjeong, there's a message for you on the phone!"

Hearing her mother calling for her downstairs, she scrunches her eyebrows and heads down, assuming it was a voicemail from the store she frequents regarding a promotion. She takes the phone out of its slot to check the message box, holding it up to her ear.

She gasps.

"Hi, Minjeong. It's Jimin. I would tell you this in person, but it's kind-of difficult to because of the circumstances..." the nervous chuckle she gives has Minjeong grinning widely, earning an odd look from her mother. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable with what I said, and if I made it seem like I had distasteful intentions."

"No! You never... made it seem like that," Minjeong answers only to realize she's responding to a recording.

"Um... again, I'm sorry. I'm trying my best to sound as sincere as possible but you can't really tell on the phone, so... that's all. I was serious about what I said, by the way. I'd never joke around unless it was to tease you. Goodnight, Minjeong-ah."

The phone makes a beep to signal the end of the message. Minjeong slowly lowers the phone back into its slot before launching into a sprint up the stairs, startling her mother. She flops into her bed to let out the loudest squeal she's ever made in her life, rivaling one of Yizhuo's.

She knows her answer.

 

---

 

"...and that's all for announcements today, everyone! Thank you, have a good rest of your day."

Minjeong lets go of the microphone button with a grin for once. Through the booth she spots Jimin sitting over the audio controls, Chaewon and Jisu flanking her sides. The former throws her a bemused look.

"You're not faking it today, President. What's got you like that?" she questions. Minjeong spots Jimin shift in her seat from beside her.

"I'm just happy, that's all," she answers with a beam and Chaewon visibly shudders.

Jisu grabs her bag from the door and slips her arms through the straps, returning Minjeong's smile. "Whatever it is, I'm glad you're happy. Ignore Chaewon, she's just jealous," she teases, Chaewon following her out of the door with a 'hey!'.

Minjeong and Jimin both wave goodbye to Yuna who joins them outside, leaving the pair alone. Jimin remains hunched over the audio controls, fiddling with some of them while the other girl rests her chin in her hand as she watches her unabashedly.

She can tell Jimin senses her staring with the way she squirms in her seat. "I've reset everything for tomorrow. We're good to go."

Minjeong shakes her head. Not yet. Her finger presses the microphone button. "Can you hear me?"

Jimin perks up at the sound of her voice, nodding slowly. "I can."

"Good," Minjeong says. She waits for Jimin to meet her eye until she presses it again. "Then my answer to you is yes."

It's 1999. Minjeong's three months away from the 21st century, and there's a chance she won't be lonely after all.