“Soojung-ah.” You called out.

The idol turns around to look at you, her dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. It was the pair with a frame that looked far too big for her face.

The two of you have stopped by the pedestrian lane.

“Yeah?”

“Hold my hand.” You say with a deadpan expression, your hand already being extended for her to take.

“You are a grown adult, Choi Yurim.”

“So are you but just hold it.” And she did.

She watched as you beamed at the contact and walked slightly ahead of you to the other side of the road.

“Now that we’ve safely made it across the death trap we call a road, we can get to that bakery.”

“It’s still ridiculous to me how you can’t cross the road by yourself.”

“It’s ridiculous to me how you can’t preheat an oven.”

“Touché.”

“…”

“…”

“But why can’t you though?” Krystal turns her head to face you, tugging your linked hands at the last word.

“Why can—“

“Don’t answer my question with your own. I asked first.” She sticks her tongue out at you.

You sigh. “I’ve never had to cross a road by myself before and I just feel safer when I’m holding someone’s hand.”

“You’re just being paranoid.”

“Do you know how many road accidents happened this year alone, Soojung?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, I’ll tell you.” You huffed, adjusting your olive green jacket. “A lot.”

“Wow.” The idol eyed you with what she thought was enough of a reaction.

“Yes, wow. I do my research. You’re eight times more likely to die in a car accident than you are by getting murdered.”

“Is that an actual statistic?” Krystal questioned.

“No.” You walked ahead before turning around to give her a look. “It probably is, though.”

…

“The bread here’s amazing.” Krystal said as she placed another loaf on the tray you were holding.

“I can’t deny that.”

“Should we get some for unnie?” She eyed you, genuinely asking for your opinion.

“I don’t know. She could be starving as we speak. Maybe we should add some more red bean buns.” You reach for the pair of tongs but retract your hand when the idol smacks it with a hiss.

“Nice try but we both know she doesn’t like those.”

“It was worth a shot.” You deflated. The baker had just made a fresh batch after all.

“You have like three on your tray, Yurim.”

“Well, yeah, but you don’t hear me complaining about the number of bagels you have on here.”

“You eat them too.”

“Exactly why I’m not complaining.”

“Okay, smartass.” Krystal pinched your cheek. “Why don’t we