When Miyoung was five, she looked in the mirror and saw a beautiful child wearing a puffy pink dress. A child whose eyes arched like tilted crescent moons over reasonably chubby cheeks and who couldn’t feel her skin shake when she jumped up and down in excitement. Beside her was another beautiful child wearing an equally puffy blue dress, whose cheeks were a bit chubbier and whose eyes didn’t arch as much as the other’s, but it didn’t matter because they held hands and smiled and felt like princess of equal kingdoms.

When Miyoung was fifteen, her curves were a bit thicker than she wanted them to be and if she breathed in enough her stomach was almost as protruding as her s, so she always ran out of breath faster than the rest of her gym class. At her next birthday party, she only ate half a slice of cake and the sixteen didn’t feel as sweet as it promised to be when she saw others having seconds.

Miyoung is twenty-two and every day she sees another woman whose legs are a bit short but whose thighs don’t rub together, whose chest is slightly smaller than hers but whose size-zero jeans don’t stretch and cut into her hips.

But Miyoung doesn’t want to be her.

*   *   *

Taeyeon is very precious to Miyoung. Maybe it’s because they’ve been in each others lives for so long or because they fit together too perfectly for anyone to rip them apart, but they’ve always gotten along extremely well. Taeyeon eats the chicken legs while Miyoung eats the s; Taeyeon likes the egg whites and Miyoung likes the yolks—they’ve never fought over anything and no one believes them when they smile, look at each other and tell them, it’s the truth.

Miyoung sees Taeyeon and wants her to belong in every part of her life because: when has she not been?

“Miyoung,” Taeyeon says in a tone that’s nearly possessive whenever she wants her best friend to go somewhere with her, “Can we please?”

And Miyoung always nods, smiles and bids goodbye to her friends because their bond is more important than anything else. Miyoung needs Taeyeon and Taeyeon needs her, and that’s all that’s important to the both of them as they walk hand in hand to eat lunch off-campus.

They order two entrees as they usually do and talk about both wonderful and disappointing things they’ve heard in their lectures. Miyoung leans in towards Taeyeon and smiles as if she were five years old again. Taeyeon leans back away from Miyoung and lets out a laugh that’s decades too old for her age. They reciprocate each other so naturally that it would be hard for anyone to imagine either of them without the other.

Taeyeon can’t finish her pasta because she's gotten tired of the taste, but doesn't want to waste it, so Miyoung finishes it for her. “I’m still hungry,” she says as they both switch plates, laughing, and, even though she can feel her stomach rolling out and back in as she reaches for Taeyeon’s plate and places it in front of her, she still eats the remnants of the alfredo.

*   *   *

When Miyoung was seventeen, she lost fifteen pounds, her appetite, and her bright smile in a week. Every day, she could feel the comments scraping through her skin and scooping out everything she had never been proud of, but it never went away.

Miyoung and Taeyeon were best friends but people never saw them as best friends because Taeyeon was always the better one. Taeyeon didn’t understand why but Miyoung knew the truth like the back of her hand: she was fat while Taeyeon was skinny, and this world has no kindness to give to people like me.

But Taeyeon—Taeyeon was different because she saw the best in her.

"Miyoung, your eyes are so pretty," Taeyeon said out of the blue, and Miyoung didn't know what to say because she found compliments too rare to come by. Taeyeon moved in closer to look at Miyoung's eyes and saw what Miyoung couldn't see from herself. "And your eyelashes are so long. I wish I could have your eyes."

Taeyeon kept staring and Miyoung couldn't help but blush.

"Y-your eyes are pretty, though," Miyoung complimented back. Taeyeon made a disapproving noise, even though Miyoung had told the truth.

"When I get older, I'm going to fix my whole face," Taeyeon groaned.

"Don't." Miyoung didn't know why she was so opposed to the idea—it's not like it was her face, but she loved it and never wanted it to change, never wanted to not be able to look at it. She poked Taeyeon's side to enforce the idea, and Taeyeon let out a shriek before covering her stomach.

"Don't touch my fat," she whined.

Fat. Fat? Miyoung looked at her incredulously as Taeyeon readjusted the part of her t-shirt that covered her already-flat stomach. If Taeyeon was fat, then what was she? A ball?

Taeyeon poked her back and she straightened up right after, but knew that Taeyeon had already poked her fat which actually did exist. But she couldn't say it. She couldn't joke around and say something like that because she'd heard it too much, because, even if she knew that she was fat, she couldn't say it.

"You're not fat; you just don't have abs," Miyoung suggested as Taeyeon walked over to her desktop so they could start on their project.

"But you've seen me; I eat so much junk food." Miyoung thought about all the times she'd avoided snacks like the ones Taeyeon ate and, maybe, life just wasn't fair. She worked harder that Taeyeon ever had in Phys. Ed. but Taeyeon was still skinnier, still played better, still had high marks. "But, Miyoung, even if I weren't fat—which I am—your face is still much prettier and you're such a kind person."

Miyoung lets the compliment build the foundations of her confidence again and she finally smiles.

"You're nice and pretty, too."

*   *   *

Taeyeon is very precious to Miyoung because Miyoung loves her. And not in the way that Miyoung wishes they were genetic sisters, but in the way where she gets butterflies whenever they hold hands and hug and sit close together and when they share drinks and popsicles and beds on occasional nights.

They watch a movie in their shared apartment, Miyoung lying down and using Taeyeon's leg as a pillow after they fought over the space directly in front of the television. They eat popcorn and Taeyeon runs her fingers through Miyoung's hair, giving her chills.

Moments like these are when Miyoung gains the confidence to tell Taeyeon that she wants them closer than they already are, but when she opens to sputter out the confession, it still gets stuck.

"What?" Miyoung shakes her head in reply, so Taeyeon faces the flashing screen again—but Miyoung doesn't. She keeps watching the way Taeyeon's expression is focused on the movie and nearly jumps when Taeyeon looks down and shoves popcorn in , laughing.

"I thought you said this was funny. Watch it." Taeyeon keeps feeding Miyoung popcorn while she stares past the television screen, dazed. She can't help but feel like a couple and maybe hope that Taeyeon likes her, too, but she's seen Taeyeon feeding other people as well. Not as much as she does to her—she hopes.

Taeyeon's phone vibrates and she says it's Wooyoung while she texts him with a smile, and imagines her feeding him, too. Maybe she's not so special after all.

She feels Taeyeon shove her head off her lap before she drifts off to dream of a relationship she thought of as impossible just moments ago.

*   *   *

When Miyoung was almost eighteen, she fell in love for the first time. It scared her at first—the way she could feel her heart nearly jump out of her chest and the way she felt her words getting stuck in no matter how many times she swallowed. She tried her best not to stare but still found herself trying to steal peeks and feel her heartbeat rise over and over again.

It was prom, and Taeyeon looked absolutely gorgeous.

“How do I look?” Miyoung watched Taeyeon twirl around once with her arms outstretched, and even when the light blue fabric of the dress dropped back down after the twirl, Miyoung still didn’t understand what she was feeling because, whatever she was feeling felt so right—yet it was terribly wrong.

“You're really pretty,” Miyoung said, imitating the words Taeyeon had given her when she had walked out of the bathroom an hour earlier, but much quieter. She wanted to say so much more but she felt too embarrassed to say anymore. She's so beautiful, she's so beautiful—it was weird to think but she'd never felt her eyes never want to leave something so badly.

“You’re just saying that,” Taeyeon laughed as she turned around to face the mirror, fixing her dress and running her hands over her stomach with a sigh.  "If only it were a bit looser," she mumbled and Miyoung sat up a bit straighter.

"I'm sure lots of people would still love it."

"I hope so."

There was a brief silence as Taeyeon went to find her heels in the closet, and Miyoung's eyes roamed all over her body before she noticed and looks away. Have other people done this to Taeyeon before? Miyoung felt a small flare as she thought of it.

"Why did you reject Wooyoung's offer to prom?" It was really obvious from Miyoung's point of view that Wooyoung had a thing for Taeyeon—but she thought that Taeyeon did, too. They hugged and touched and sat close together and shared drinks just like Taeyeon would do with her but she rejected him even though he was male.

She arrived to the venue with Taeyeon but spent the whole night with Sooyoung, watching Taeyeon have fun with Wooyoung and his friends, watching their last dance together, watching him get rejected again—she couldn't pay attention to anything else and her last school dance was more bitter than she had imagined it to be, but she was still thankful that Sooyoung was there to watch her sad smile.

*   *   *

"I'm sorry, Miyoung; I can’t like you that way.”

Miyoung watches as Taeyeon shifts uncomfortably. They're twenty-two and have lived together for four years. Miyoung feels the possibility of a fifth fleeting faster than she thought it would. They go their separate ways—Miyoung to the science department and Taeyeon to the arts—and Miyoung slams her head on the desk when she takes her seat.

"Did you tell her?" Sooyoung, a classmate of hers since high school, is the only one who knows about her feelings for Taeyeon—but isn't very supportive.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"No." Sooyoung doesn't smile, but she doesn't frown, and Miyoung doesn't know what she's thinking. Miyoung rarely knows what she's thinking.

"Then you should move out." Miyoung nearly collides heads with Sooyoung when she sits up to look at her, and Sooyoung smacks her arm. "Watch it—my head is too precious, especially since exams are coming up."

"Why?" Miyoung feels tears coming to her eyes even as she thinks about it. How could she leave someone who's been so close that they haven't ever been apart for more than a week? She knows that Sooyoung dislikes Taeyeon, but this is going too far. "I can't. I can't just leave Taeyeon like that."

"Sooyoung runs a hand through her hair in frustration. "I'm telling you that if you stay with her, your feelings will get played with even more."

"She never—"

"Miyoung. She doesn't even care or can't even tell when she hurts your feelings," she whispers. "Being self-conscious is fine, but she should know that you are as well. Having other friends is fine, but you don't just ignore your best friend and come back like you've been together the whole time. And if she respects you then you two won't be best friends anymore or else you'll just keep falling for her over and over again."

When class ends, Miyoung tells herself to tell Taeyeon that they can't be friends anymore, but, when they meet, Taeyeon hugs her from behind and drags her by the hand to eat lunch together. She tries to find the time to tell her but by the time the chimes of the restaurant's door ring, she's already tripped and fallen into more repetitions and ripples of happiness and pain. Taeyeon is once again more important because she feels the butterflies when they hold hands and hug and sit close together. They sleep in the same bed that night and, even though she tries not to, she dreams about free-falling into a pit that never ends.

*   *   *

When they’re twenty-three, Taeyeon introduces Miyoung to another woman whose legs are a bit shorter than hers but whose thighs don’t rub together, whose chest is larger than hers and whose size-zero jeans don’t stretch and cut into her hips. They interlock fingers and hug and kiss and Miyoung tries not to hear them in the apartment Taeyeon doesn't want Miyoung to move out of. Her name is Jessica.

Miyoung wants to be her.

I honestly enjoyed reading this two years later, so I hope you guys liked it too! Sorry I haven't really been active lately—school and other things really took its toll on me :/ 

Have a nice day! :)