Sunny’s face was noticeably haggard, her eyes red and swollen from having rubbed her fist into them so frequently. She hadn’t left SM Entertainment until late that night, though the conversation with her uncle had only really lasted an hour or so. He had left with his head hung low, knowing that he had managed to disappoint one of the few people who still believed there was some good in him, leaving Sunny inside one of the darkened practice rooms to muddle through her thoughts.

            She knew that the girls had to know the truth, but she wasn’t exactly sure how to tell them. Sunny the variety queen, Sunny the radio DJ, these two personas and her known maturity made it so that the brunette felt as if, no matter the nature of the news, her speech had to always be eloquent. There had to be a way to tell the girls that would keep them from shattering in the way she had, her knees tucked to her chest as she balled in the blackness of the abandoned building.

            On the drive home, she had contacted Yuri. Out of all of the girls, with Taeyeon’s abrupt and unexplained absence, Yuri would be the one that could put up a strong front and assume responsibility the best. When Sunny walked through the door of the dorm, the girls, including Jessica, had been assembled as she had asked and sat on the couch that took up the majority of their living room. Even still, Sunny was greeted by silence.

            Everything was too quiet these days. The whole of SM Entertainment, despite having over a thousand staff members and trainees, was void of sound, and for weeks now, one would be lucky to hear anything above a whisper in SNSD’s dorm. It didn’t seem possible. To have eight girls become completely silent, it was just unheard of. There had been many a time where they would receive noise complaints from their neighbors, what with the loud shrieks of Tiffany’s American upbringing and Jessica’s dolphin screech, the fights that occurred between members that were, albeit, quickly resolved, and the sound of several alarm clocks shouting at different, and still too early, points of the day, silence had become a foreign concept to Sunny. She wished that were still so.

            The six girls turned to look at Sunny as she dropped her bag to the floor with an unceremonious thud, waiting silently as she removed her shoes and made her way to the couch.

            “You’ve been crying.” It was more of a statement than a question but Sunny still nodded as Yuri’s brow furrowed.

            “Yeah, umm, sorry. Sorry to have you all up at this hour, that is. Just give me a second,” Sunny said, rubbing her eyes once more in an attempt to abate her drowsiness.

            “Take your time,” Tiffany reassured her, noticeably shaken by Sunny’s dishevelment.

            “All right, so,” Sunny heaved a sigh, “I went to see my uncle today.”
            Many of the members’ eyes noticeably widened but they remained silent still, knowing that Sunny couldn’t do with interruption when she seemed to be holding in all of her courage like a breath struggling to be exhaled.

            “I wanted to know what exactly was going on with this memorial concert. It just seemed strange I guess. I mean, I know he loves you guys simply out of duty as a member of my family, but a concert so soon after her death just caught me as odd. So I went to SM Entertainment earlier. It was dark and quiet, something I’ve never seen before, and it seems he gave everyone a few weeks off. Again, that seemed off to me. I understand letting off groups like Super Junior, F(x), Shinee, and Exo, but everyone? People that may have only ever seen her in pictures or television screens? He isn’t that kind. I’ve known the man since childhood, heard stories about him from my father as I grew up, hell, I was even warned not to join SM, as I decided not to initially, because of his reputation. He is a kindhearted family member, but a malevolent and selfish businessman.” Sunny paused for an instant, releasing a shaky breath and wiping at her eyes. “He was talking to a man before I entered, Kim Young-min, actually.”

            Yoona’s eyes immediately narrowed at the familiarity of the name and Yuri and Tiffany’s expressions grew darker.

            “I see the name disgusts some of you as much as it does me. To anyone who doesn’t recognize the name, consider yourselves lucky. The man is despicable, greedy, and malignant, even more so than my uncle can be on his worst days.”
            The others, Jessica included, seemed to understand the severity of the possible consequences of the meeting as their expressions soon mirrored those around them.

            “I confronted my uncle about it as he left, noticing that someone like Kim Young-min leaving a meeting with his boss in such high spirits was cause for suspicion. We got into a fight and…” Sunny ran a hand through her hair roughly, tears threatening to fall through her tightly clenched eyes, “and he told me he ing sold his hold over the company.”

            “,” Yuri breathed, her hand gently squeezing Yoona’s, whose eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and fear.

            Seohyun leaned her head into her hands; her mind already steps ahead of the others as she already came to the conclusion that Sunny had yet to inform them of.

            Jessica had her head on Tiffany’s shoulder, still processing the information as Tiffany drummed her fingers anxiously on her thigh.

            “He said he made some bad investments, put his trust in the wrong people, long story short he put the company in several millions of dollars in debt. The board no longer saw him as fit to run the company and, seeing it as the only viable option, he sold the majority of his shares to anyone willing to buy them. The concert was Kim Young-min’s idea and the board leapt at the opportunity. Hyoyeon’s death was just convenient for them,” Sunny practically spat the last sentence, despising the way it tasted in . “They’re going to milk it for every last drop.”

            No one said a word for nearly half an hour, though there were many shared looks that soon dissipated into nothing. It was Jessica who decided to speak up first, shocking the remaining members as none had really heard her speak much since Hyoyeon’s death besides Tiffany, and even those moments were often reduced to short, stiff replies or, on most occasions, Jessica’s newly formed habit of sleep talking.

            “I plan on performing.”

Santa Monica, California

            Taeyeon clenched the phone in her hands until her fingers turned pale from the tension. She had typed in the number several times now, only to delete it and type it up again.

            The pier was freezing at this time of night and almost abandoned, save from the few workers that were clearing the park of the litter that had been left by the day’s patrons. The ferris wheel was alight with hundreds of red and yellow bulbs and, as it spun the last few times before the park closed, Taeyeon imagined the whole of it burning down. It would start with the ferris wheel, the lights sparking and shattering, casting glass about like wayward bits of flames that had cast off from the body. Then it would spread to the planks, taking every attraction with it as it crumbled and fell into the sea.

            Fire and the sea; Taeyeon enjoyed contrasts like that, things that juxtaposed each other in a way that she could appreciate. She was an artist, a life that demanded she stand on stage in front of thousands and television broadcasts that were seen by millions, yet, more often than not, she preferred solitude and quiet. She was an introvert who enjoyed coloring and writing and listening to songs that whispered to her soul as softly as rain drops on a window pane, but she had fallen for an extrovert like Hyoyeon.

           Hyoyeon encompassed everything that Taeyeon was not.

           Hyoyeon enjoyed pulsating rhythms that captured your heartbeat, dragging it along until it thumped with the same wild energy as the drumbeat. She enjoyed going to clubs where there were too many people for Taeyeon’s liking, grinding her body against strangers and smiling too brightly for the dimly lit alcoves and rapidly flashing, colored lights. She thrived off of all of that energy, the same energy that would drain Taeyeon. The spotlight was something Hyoyeon found enticing, but never found herself in as much as she would like to. Taeyeon sang, Hyoyeon danced, that was their only real connection, the fact that those two things just so happened to place them into the same group.

           Hyoyeon was like a fire. She shined so brightly and it burned Taeyeon’s eyes just to look at her sometimes. Flames dance and spark, twisting in a passionate tango of red, orange, and yellow, and, though they burn intensely, they can create an atmosphere that warms those around them. Fire was reminiscent of summer nights spent in a field where fireflies swooped and bounded through the air like small, graspable stars, long drives in the middle of the night with the top down and no destination in mind, or bonfires on the beach where everyone was a little too drunk to care about the cold and people allowed themselves to throw caution into that same, chilling wind. It’s the kind of feeling that made you want to do something crazy and spontaneous. Hyoyeon was all of those things and more.

            Fire was an element of destruction though, spreading itself until it devoured all that surrounded it. Maybe that’s why the pier ending in flames came to Taeyeon’s mind in the first place. If it were truly to crumble, the sea would be there to catch it, just how she wanted to catch Hyoyeon as the blonde seemed to be falling over and over again.

            So, if Hyoyeon were to be the fire, Taeyeon would have to be the sea.

            It made sense really. The sea, to some people, was something to be feared.

            People on the outside of their members often viewed Taeyeon that way, as if she were cold and callous. They said things about her that tasted as bitter as the saltwater she watched cresting the sand did on her tongue, but she didn’t mind being the sea, because those who did like it, loved it all the same. There were songs comparing the depths of lovers’ eyes to its many splendored hues or the way the crest of the waves would sparkle in the sunlight. Beneath the surface were many treasures; coral reefs that served as colorful, intricate cities for the small and varied creatures that inhabited them, works of art like statues and ship hulls that had been swallowed and brought to the bottom, prized possessions that had been swindled from swimmers and now lay beneath the sand, sparkling below the grains like pirate’s treasure. She liked to think she was like that, that her best features had to be uncovered by those she trusted. But still, the sea had to have its secrets. It wouldn’t be the sea anymore if it didn’t.

            She recognized that the sea could be a selfish entity. It took from people, whether it be something as simple as treasured items or as complex and valuable as a human life, there were no scales to weigh one over the other. It took without discernment and could be unforgiving about it. Something so vast and mysterious couldn’t show remorse for actions that, in comparison to itself, were incredibly small and thus insignificant.

            Taeyeon didn’t like to think she was like that, and yet, the whole of this situation had her proving herself wrong time and time again. She had become someone who lied like it was a second language to her, whether that be to her members or the people she came here with. Why couldn’t she just come and save Hyoyeon like a responsible leader would without all of this emotional baggage dragging behind her? Why did she have to love her in the way that made it a selfish act instead of an act of friendship?

            If Taeyeon were the light, Hyoyeon would be the darkness. If Hyoyeon was only comprised of sound and rhythms, Taeyeon was the embodiment of silence. Taeyeon was alive and, to the world, Hyoyeon was dead. They say opposites attract, but that’s just a trope perpetuated by romance and young adult novels to make the love seem more forbidden, more enticing. In reality, the opposing forces fight until one dominates the other or they learn to coexist within the same space.

            If Taeyeon were the ocean, and Hyoyeon were the fire, then, as the pier fell, Taeyeon would have to be the one to extinguish that light.

            That’s why Hyoyeon and Jessica just made sense. If Hyoyeon were the fire, then Jessica would be the ice. They may have seemed like opposites, but they coexisted in a manner that was beneficial to the both of them. When Jessica’s demeanor was too cold, Hyoyeon would be there to melt the ice with her childish antics and good humor, easily making the renowned ice princess crack a smile or laugh in that light, bubbly way of hers. When Hyoyeon became too hot headed or overly passionate, Jessica would be there to cool her down until she came to her senses. They clicked in a way that Hyoyeon and Taeyeon seemed to be unable to find themselves doing, and yet, there was still a deep bond forged at the roots of their friendship.

            Ever since that day in the alley, no matter how awkward they may appear on screen, they knew that they would do anything for each other in the name of their friendship. That bond meant everything to Taeyeon and, though it was cliché, in her opinion, she was willing to throw away the love she held at the back of her heart if it meant that Hyoyeon would be happy. But still, she found herself thinking these selfish thoughts, wondering what it would be like if she were to stay.

           She could have a second home here, slowly mending the broken bond that had torn itself between them through this ordeal. Becoming friends that no longer measured the seconds of silence between them, actually enjoying outings with just the two of them, maybe even a night spent on this same pier that was beginning to dim its lights as the night stretched on. A secret life for a selfish person, it disgusted her, how much she wanted it that was. How she even felt the need to weigh the pros and cons was beyond her. Her sole purpose for coming here was to bring Hyoyeon back to the other members, to salvage and mend her broken heart. She didn’t know why these old feelings were creeping up again, though she knew that they had never really left her, she thought that she could suppress them until they disappeared or feelings for another took their place. Yet here they were again, burning her insides until tears welled in her eyes.

           Something inside her made her want to call Tiffany, and another, seemingly stronger feeling, wanted her not to. Tiffany, in a sense, knew about Taeyeon’s feelings toward the blonde, but had never actually confronted her about it. There were many things Taeyeon had told Tiffany that no one else knew and may most likely never know, but Tiffany also knew when not to push at the borders around Taeyeon’s heart. If she wanted to talk about it, she would; otherwise, it would remain a secret until the day she was ready. And well, she hadn’t become ready before Hyoyeon’s ‘death’. But that wasn’t the particular reason she wanted to call Tiffany, not exactly.

           God, why couldn’t she just tell her the truth? Why couldn’t she just tell everyone the truth? The other seven would be over here in an instant and they could just drag Hyoyeon back to Korea.

           But that wasn’t possible. Hyoyeon already collapsed at the sight of Krystal; she couldn’t imagine the repercussions of the girl seeing Jessica in this state. And, if Hyoyeon truly did lose her memory, as Jason would have them believe, she didn’t think Jessica could bear it. No, Hyoyeon had to be well within her mind and confident in what her body could and couldn’t handle before the others were to be involved. But, couldn’t she at least talk to Tiffany a little, if only to squelch the burning a bit? Didn’t she deserve that much?

           The decision was quickly made for her as the phone in her hand buzzed suddenly, causing her death grip to slacken as it fell into her lap. Tiffany’s name flashed across the screen as the phone continued to vibrate across Taeyeon’s thigh and, swallowing the lump in , Taeyeon pressed the answer button and help the phone up to her ear.

           “Tiffany?”

           “Taeyeon-ah, where are you? Is everything okay?” The softness of Tiffany’s voice made Taeyeon’s heart clench painfully.

How could she sound so tender when all Taeyeon had done lately was pile pain upon her grief like snow on the roof of a house already on its last leg?

           “Yeah, Tiffany-ah, I’m okay. I can’t really talk about where I am right now, and I know that must sound terrifying with my track record as of late,” Taeyeon attempted a chuckle but it falls flat, leaving dead air between them for an instant. “Sorry. But I’m all right, I promise. Everything okay at the dorm?”

           “Not really, could kind of use you right now.” There was another pause and Taeyeon thought that she could hear Tiffany’s breath shudder through the speaker.     “But if where you are and what you’re doing is important to you, then I trust you.”

           That was the thing about Tiffany; she could be too kind for her own good. Taeyeon had, for lack of a better term, basically abandoned them, whether the context be at the funeral or the present moment, she had, without a doubt, run from them. Sure, it was for good reason, but Tiffany didn’t know that. When everything was going to hell and she was needed, Tiffany trusted Taeyeon enough to believe that she wouldn’t leave them to wallow in their despair.

           “I’m gonna put you on speaker, okay? Sunny just dropped some big news and I thought that we should fill you in.”

           "Yeah, of course, Tiff.”

           Taeyeon set the phone into the sand, leaning her head back onto the cool, crumbling sand and looking up into the sky with eyes that seemed almost black with sorrow. The stars shone like pinpricks of light through the black canvas of sky and Taeyeon allowed her eyes to dart between them as Sunny’s raspy voice filled the silent spaces in the air.

          She was shocked at first at the news, but, then again, she knows she should have been just as suspicious as Sunny had been. Hyoyeon’s predicament had infected her with a severe case of tunnel vision though, making everything else fall to the wayside. Lee Soo-man wasn’t the kind of man to plan this concert, regardless of what anyone else believed about him; she should have known that. Ever since that day in middle school where the man had personally asked her father to allow her to continue training as a singer, even if only for another year or so, she was always willing to believe that he was a good man at heart. Kim Young-min though? The man didn’t have a decent bone in his body. The company was going to go to hell, and it hadn’t been long since they renewed their contracts. She regrets not reading it more carefully now. Who knows how long the gears had been turning behind the scenes.

           “.”

           “I agree,” Sunny sighed. “It’s a huge ing mess.”

           “How is Jessica taking it?”

           “I plan on performing.” Jessica’s voice caught Taeyeon by surprise, so much so that she jumped up to sit straight and felt for sand in her ears in case they had deceived her.

           “But why?” Was the only response Taeyeon could manage in her bewilderment.

           “This Kim Young-min is a , I think we’re all agreed upon that, but, even so, a memorial concert is a memorial concert. If the fans are really willing to pay that exorbitant admission fee to pay homage to Hy-” Jessica stopped, her breath quivering through the speaker. “It’s not exactly what she would want, but it’s something. She deserves better, so let’s do our best. I love her,” another pause and Taeyeon could almost feel the shiver of Jessica’s form through the phone, “and she deserves so much more than this, but, if this is all we’re going to get, then let’s make it so spectacular that even she would be impressed. I want some closure, Tae. I think we all do.”

           “Yeah, I get it, Jessica, I really do,” Taeyeon smiled, her tears blurring the line of the ocean waves as they berated the shore. “Let’s do our best, all of us, for her.”

          And for a moment, a single, silent moment, everyone else allowed themselves to smile as well.