I woke up this morning feeling like pure air. And I came back feeling like crap. 

 

It started in the Inkigayo waiting room. 

 

I was sitting in a leather chair, my face bathed with flourescent light. Out of pure boredom I squinted and curled my lip back. The stylist behind me grunted in disapproval. "Don't do that. We just did your makeup, you can't mess it up right before your comeback stage," she said, tensely. I sighed inwardly and returned to normal. She tapped the back of my head. "Look down," she commanded, and I did. Her fingers gathered the soft, caramel dyed hair at the nape of my neck and pulled it up into a glossy bun. "Look up," she said, and I complied. The thick roll of hair being held at the back of my head felt like a weight on my neck and when my stylist looked away to call for hair clips, I grimaced into the mirror. The girl reflected in the cool glass plumped her thin pink lips together unhappily. 

 

The washes of foundation and touch up made my skin even paler than it usually was, like ivory. A heart shaped stud of silver was glued over the my cheekbone, next to my eye. Next to the metallic, deep coats of eyeshadow painted onto my lids and the dark outline of mascara, it looked only like a bauble that hoped to set trends. I watched as the stylist aranged the stalk of pink hair fanning from the bun in a glossy halo over the back of my head and sprayed it with shine. She swept my long bangs behind my ear. 

 

"Waa, our pretty Bommie," a voice gushed by my ear and I jerked. The stylist fell back and began to scold someone behind me and I turned. 

 

"Seunghyun-ssi!" I gasped, and glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

 

"It's your comeback stage, isn't it?" he asked, ignoring the flaming stylist as she turned and stomped away to find Seungho. "I came to support our 2NE1 hoobaes." His dyed blue hair was thrown messily about his forehead, but... it was y. 

 

"Then why is only you here?" I asked. 

 

He shrugged, his charismatic dark eyes locking on my face. "Jiyoung's here too." He motioned to the cluster of people by the door and the flaming head of red hair in the center. "But I'd rather stay here." He smiled, and turned the chair around so I faced the mirror. His hands found my shoulders and I shivered. 

 

"What are you doing?" I yelped. 

 

He looked at me, surprised. "Psy-hyung does this for me all the time. Massage," he said. 

 

"S-seunghyun-ssi--" 

 

I heard his deep chuckle behind me. "Look at your cheeks," he said, softly. "They're turning red." I saw his gentle smile in the mirror and blushed harder.

 

"Bommie, time to get up on stage!" Dara called. Seunghyun looked back. "Though... I think you would like to stay here with TOP," she joked, smirking with a knowing look. Her eyes locked on his hands, which were still caressing my bare shoulders. 

 

"It's okay. Let's go." I pushed past Dara and towards the stage door, feeling Seunghyun's gaze hard on my back. 

 

CL and Minji were already waiting. Dara joined us, and we gathered our hands in the center, layering them on top of eachother. "2ne1," CL preluded, and we finished with her. "Let's play!" 

 

The stage was black without light, and I found a place next to Minzy. And then it started, the pings of the instrumental signalling Minji. I felt a jolt of adrenaline rush through my veins, filling me with something lighter than air and the audience became a blur. It was just us, the sleek black and neon stage, our voices echoing in the air, the flashing lights and smoke. Confetti showered around us like clouds of gems, floating and twirling like each had a will of its own. CL winked at me and I stepped forward, microphone gripped tightly. My voice rumbled out of my throat and I let it bubble out in to the haze of mist and light. The distant cheer of the audience sent a shot of energy through my veins and I danced with new power, the thumping beat pulsing with my heart. I could never get enough of this feeling, like I was going to lift up and blow up into pure energy. It made my pulse quicken and filled me up to my toes and--

 

I blinked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dara, pulsing effortlessly with the beat, and suddenly her foot landed on a thick wad of confetti. Her heel jerked to the side and her balance tipped over to her left. Minji already had stopped, her hand going to . Dara's beautiful, doll's eyes widened to the size of red crane coins and she looked at CL, silently asking for help. CL stiffened, her limbs tensing visibly under the the electric blue light and then she dipped, reaching for Dara's outsretched hand, but it was too late. She fell, her ankle twisting in a nasty way under her, and suddenly the audience came into focus with sickening clarity. 

 

The lights dimmed, and the music droned to a stop. Gasps and shouts swelled from the audience. In flurry of movement we were pulled away under the darkness, and in the dark perimeters of the stage I felt a pair of arms circle around my back, hugging me to a broad, firm chest. I collapsed there, in someone's arms, and waited in a daze, wishing away the darkness and booing. "Are you okay?" he asked, and I jerked. 

 

"Seunghyun-ssi--" 

 

"Are you hurt?" 

 

"Aniyo, geunde--"

 

"I heard someone fell. Who was it?"

 

I began to struggle. "Dara--" 

 

He let go. "I was worried it was you," he breathed, his breath running over my cheek softly. 

 

"What's that supposed to--" I started, but Seunghyun slipped away from me, leaving me alone in the dark. "Hey, where are you going?" I shouted. He didn't answer and I turned around, fear pouring slowly into my heart. "TOP-ssi--"

 

Someone else grabbed my wrist. "Bom-unni?" Minji whispered, tensely. 

 

"Yeah."

 

"We have to go back inside," Minji muttered, and I nodded numbly, even though I knew she wouldn't be able to see it. 

 

"Okay. How's Dara?"

 

Minji was silent. "Do you know?" I asked, quietly.

 

"I was back at the waiting room with CL and Dara before they told me to find you..." she said, quietly. "Dara broke her leg."

 

"...What?"

 

------------------------------------------

 

"CL-unni--" Minji tried, quietly for the fifth time. But CL wouldn't answer--her gaze was fixed with dejected concentration on the windowpane, and she refused to speak. Before she looked like a fiery goddess, smirking with the confidence of someone with victory set out for her and pounding her fist to the cheers of the audience with glee. But now she was just a deflated, luster-less balloon of giving up. Her eyes were weak and glassy, and the hands that gripped the water bottle in the car seat holster were slack. 

 

"It's okay," I said, quietly. "Gwenchana, CL-roo. Dara will get better."

 

Minji flicked my shoulder and sent me a look of warning with a shake of her head. I looked at her in confusion, but she just shook her head again. "I'll tell you later," she whispered. When I turned back to CL, I could see stormclouds brewing behind her previously emotionless eyes. "Chaerin-ah--" 

 

She suddenly whipped around, radiating pure fire. "Be quiet," she hissed, and I shrank back into my seat. 

 

The ride home was silent. 

 

Inside the apartment Chaerin turned to us, rubbing her eyes wearily. "I'm sorry..." She plopped down onto the couch, and took a deep breath. "It's just that--" Suddenly she choked and she looked down. Her shoulders shook once. A choked, strangled, animal sound tore from inside Chaerin and suddenly she was crying. 

 

My eyes widened and Minji's did too. We could only gape at Chaerin as she began to sob harder. Chaerin never cried in front of us. You could throw the world at her and she wouldn't cry unless no one could hear her. But in front of us, and not even Dara, she was sobbing. 

 

Minji dropped down onto the couch next to her and began to rub her back, murmuring softly under her breath and I followed. We wrapped our arms around Chaerin and let her cry her heart out until she finished. Then she sat there limply between us like a ragged doll, not making a sound. 

 

"Begopah," Minji said, quietly, and Chaerin chuckled. 

 

"Hungry Gong Minki. Minki-ah, why don't we eat?" she said, quietly, getting up and wiping away her tears. She stretched and a worn, tired smile split over her face. I sighed in relief, but continued to watch her out of concern. Minji watched her too, and then got up to help. Chaerin pushed her back down. 

 

"I'll make it," she said, with a weary smile, and before we could protest she darted into the kitchen. Within ten minutes she came out with a steaming bowl of ramen. "It's not much, but we can share," she said.

 

"Our trainer will kill us for eating ramen," I said, quietly.

 

"Who cares about the trainer. We deserve this one," she joked, and ladled it into two other bowls. "Ach, it's hot."

 

I watched Minji eat, and then turned my gaze to Chaerin. She was looking dejectedly into her bowl, spooning around the pale noodles with her spoon. I sighed, and then put on a smile, to make her feel better. I took a bite, and then gagged. 

 

A swell of strange emotions roiled in my chest and I gagged again in shock. I felt so tired, like I had been stressing out for days and a stab of inexplicable worry dug so deep that it flipped my stomach. There was a dull pain wearing away at my heart with sharp teeth, a pasty mixture of sadness and longing and discontent. But over all of it was a consuming, burning, aching storm of jealousy running through my veins and making everything hurt. I felt dizzy with confusion. Where did all of it come from?

 

Chaerin looked at me. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Did I mess it up?"

 

"N-No," I said, as soon as it faded. I shivered and suddenly felt worn out. "No, it tastes fine. I just don't feel so well." 

 

I got up and left quickly, rushing into the bathroom and shutting the door. I looked at myself in the mirror. 

 

"Where did all those feelings come from?"