Taewoon laughed at the sight of Eun Mi on his tablet screen. Her image remained somewhat pixeled as the video call connected, but he could still see how she’d drawn the strings of her hoodie tight around her face.

“What are you doing?”

“I did something crazy.”

Taewoon smiled, his eyes shifting upward to his desktop monitor. He closed and opened files, heavy headphones around his neck. “Like what? Cut your hair?”

“Yup.”

Taewoon screeched to a halt. Eun Mi’s image had cleared up as the connection settled. He could identify her expression as expectant, eyes gleaming with that characteristic mischievousness of hers. His nose twitched, the scent of bleach and hair dye heavy in the room. Taewoon leaned in closer to the screen.

“Show me.”

Eun Mi grinned, her tongue between her teeth. “No.”

“Hey!”

“A.Borealis should be the first to see!”

Taewoon frowned. “Don’t I get boyfriend perks?”

Eun Mi squinted, giving him a sidelong glance. “Don’t push it, mister.”

They laughed. Taewoon really wanted to know what she’d done to her beautiful hair, but he would get nothing out of her now that she’d declared she wanted A.Borealis to experience the change first.

“What are you working on?” she inquired, propping herself up on a pile of pillows. “Is it a song for another girl group?”

“No,” he grinned. “Just cleaning some files up.”

Eun Mi’s sigh came through as a rush of static through the video. “I can’t believe you’ve given three different songs to three different groups but you’ve given CELESTIAL nothing.”

Taewoon mimicked the look she’d given him earlier.  “Don’t push it, sister.”

She pouted, sticking her tongue out at him. He smiled, turning back to the monitor. Eun Mi watched him, smiling warmly at the way in which his eyes glazed over, his left hand over his lips and chin.

Eun Mi loved watching him work; it was one of her favorite things. She would not tell him, not yet at least, but that’s when she found him the most handsome. He poured so much into his work, created song out of nothing and everything. Taewoon had been so careful up until now, if he allowed himself a risk or two, his talent would definitely shine through.

Taewoon’s talent was unique. It suited indie groups best. There was meaning to his songs, a deeper understanding of the world and the human soul. His best songs had Eun Mi’s chest feeling as if he’d reached within her and squeezed her heart. Unfortunately, his personal style did not qualify as the mainstream material the public demanded or enjoyed.

Eun Mi had not really understood the phrase “diamond in the rough” until she had met Taewoon. One day not too far from now, Taewoon’s real talent would be discovered. Eun Mi wanted to witness that day, and, a little selfishly, wanted to be a part of it somehow.

“Woon-ah,” she said, “write a ballad for me.”

Taewoon nearly fell out of his chair. “W-what? You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. Write a song for me.”

He gawked. He took several second to compose himself, finally folding his hands over his stomach as he leaned back on his chair, the leather and plastic squeaking as he shifted his weight.

“Ballads are not my style.”

“Liar. I’ve heard them before. You’re really good at them.”

“I knew you’d come up with a way of torturing me.”

Eun Mi sat up, raising a hand to her chest as if offended. “Torture you? I would never!”

“You would never pass up on the chance to do so.”

They stared at each other, Taewoon with a small smile on his face, Eun Mi with a tiny frown on hers.

“What do you want a ballad for?” he asked eventually.

“For my album.”

This really got his attention. He sat up straight again, his face close to the tablet’s screen. “You’re getting a solo? So soon?”

Eun Mi grinned. “Of course not, silly. As if the company would just let me have a solo debut.” She shook her head. “It might be a private project. There’s a style of music I want to sing… I can’t fully convey what I want to say with the songs we have to release.”

Her fingers closed over the fabric of her hoodie, rubbing the area above her heart. Taewoon understood; he wished he were beside her, he wanted to hold her hand. Still, he could not promise her anything. He could, however, keep it in mind.

“How are things with Ryouta? Are you alright?”

Eun Mi exhaled, rearranging herself on her pillows, coming too close to the camera, her face huge on the screen. Taewoon screenshotted the image.

“Mm. I’m alright. Ryouta refuses to delete his Tweet though, and it looks like AMORES are reflecting.”

“Reflecting?”

“Aside from the negative comments of the usual anti-fans, most fans are apologizing to Ryouta even though they didn’t do anything wrong. They’re following the new rules the company imposed and everything.”

“Hmm,” Taewoon paused. “Do you think this is good?”

Eun Mi shrugged, sending the crunching sound of static through the speakers. “I honestly can’t tell. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“What’s going to happen to the stalker?”

“Detective Kang said it’s turning out more complicated than he expected. Her lawyer is claiming insanity or some sort of mental illness.”

A silence settled between them. Taewoon brushed his hair back out of his eyes. Eun Mi was staring at him, eyes deep even on a screen.

“Any attacks?”

“None.”

“Sleep?”

“As much as I can get while practicing and preparing. We had our jacket shooting today then we went to practice.”

“Nightmares?”

She shook her head. “None. I fall right asleep. I’ve been so tired, I don’t even dream.”

Taewoon nodded, relieved. “I met with Million Market not too long ago.”

“A new company? Did you sign with them?”

“I signed my soul over to the devils.”

Eun Mi would have thrown a pillow at him for the bad joke if he’d been with her. Instead, she settled with frowning. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

Taewoon grinned a toothy, lopsided grin. “Well, at least now I’m not unemployed.”

“You never were unemployed. You get money from royalties.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so snarky today.”

Eun Mi’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot.”

Taewoon laughed it off. “I don’t mind. I know what it’s like. You start shooting the MV tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“When is the release?”

“Next week.”

“Rushed, isn’t it?”

Eun Mi threw herself into her pillows face down, her voice muffled.

“What?”

She raised her head only enough for him to hear her clearly. “I said that everything’s been so crazy this year I’m surprised we’re even going to have this release. It’s impossible to do it as we planned because Red Velvet is having a comeback in September and they’re so scary popular.”

Taewoon couldn’t deny that. They came from a big company with a great music team behind every release. Ice Cream Cake had been stuck in his head for weeks.

“Are you humming Ice Cream Cake?” Eun Mi squeaked, indignant. “Where’s your loyalty?!”

Taewoon reigned in a guilty laugh. “Says the girl that will be promoting alongside her idols.”

“Oh. My. Gosh. Shut. Up.”

“Nervous?”

Eun Mi dived into her pillows again. Yup, she was a nervous wreck just thinking of crossing paths with SHINee in music shows. Taewoon stole a glance at the clock.

“Eun Mi-ah, you should go to bed.”

“I don’t want to.”

Taewoon smiled. “You can call me later. You need to rest up.”

Eun Mi peeked at him, the pout evident in her eyes even when the pillows still hid half her face. She placed her chin on her arm, speaking through half-gritted teeth. “I won’t be able to call you for a while. We’re scheduled for a two day shoot and I have to go film Follow the Leader right after.”

Taewoon had heard something about an MT from Zico a few days ago. He’d figured that would be the first encounter Eun Mi and Zico would have after their explosive farewell. As busy as Eun Mi was and as quietly apologetic as Zico had been recently, Taewoon doubted anything nuclear would happen.

“Mm, that’s fine. You’re out there earning money to buy me a new pair of Jordans.”

“Stop mooching off me!”

Taewoon laughed, taking another screenshot of her outrageous expression. “Good night, Eun Mi-ah.”

Eun Mi pouted, opened , hesitated, and closed it again. “I’ll call or text when I can.”

“Work hard, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks flared up. She fiddled with her fingers before saying, “Good night, oppa,” and ending the call faster than Taewoon could breathe.

He felt the smile spread across his face, warmth overtaking his cheeks. It took him a while to compose himself. After finding out CELESTIAL’s schedule online, he saved it on his phone’s schedule. There was no way he’d miss the release of Eun Mi’s teaser.

Exhaling, he secured his headphones on his ears, hesitating before deleting a certain file. He double clicked, opening it with a cringe. Soft piano-like ripples, mournful cellos, and crawling violins.

“A ballad, huh?”

Eun Mi slept the entire ride to the MT filming site. CELESTIAL had finished filming for their music video just a few hours before. She’d stopped by the dorm to shower and pack a few things (mainly her medication and sleeping pills just in case) before heading out with a small production team for Follow the Leader.

They had been greatly shocked at her new appearance. She would have teased them for not having kept up with CELESTIAL’s rushed teaser releases if she hadn’t been so tired. Eun Mi chatted for the first ten minutes before she pulled her hoodie over her eyes. The car ride was a quiet one.

CELESTIAL’s teaser pictures dropped on the way to Jecheon with only Eun Mi’s left to reveal by the time they arrived to the camping site. Eun Mi’s VJ shook her awake as they approached. She hid her face behind her hands, feeling the slight swelling that had started to take place.

“I’m going to be looking like a blowfish,” she muttered, closed from her nap. She cleared it, tapping on her face in mindless, half-asleep motions. “What time is it now?”

“Quarter past eleven.”

“They must be getting ready for lunch.”

“They’re waiting on you to start.”

Eun Mi groaned, hiding in her hoodie. “You’re making us play for our lunch, aren’t you?”

Her VJ said nothing. She muttered a very indignant “Savages” under her breath before squinting at the sunlight that poured in through the open doors. The van had parked outside a magnificent house. She could hear the sounds of the production crew and fellow idols. A cool breeze touched her cheeks, waking her up.

Making her way to the back of the house with her hands in her hoodie’s pockets, she stifled more than three yawns. The hood still pulled low over her eyes, Eun Mi found the other leaders loitering about, talking, on their phones, or napping. Filming had started the moment they’d informed Heo PD that Eun Mi had arrived. She could feel the cameras on her as they filmed her entrance.

“Much ado about nothing,” she whispered, allowing herself a rather unsightly yawn.

Eun Mi’s hair was pink. No, not pink, but a pastel shade of pink, like cherry blossoms. Her roots were darker than the rest of her locks, a lighter shade of brown tinged with pink. She had also chopped off nearly twelve inches. Her once waist long hair now hung just above her mid-back; she’d straightened it before joining them, a thick braid traveling from left to right, secured with a white hairpin.

The contrast of her hair against CELESTIAL’s Capri blue of her sweatshirt and sweatpants made her look like a walking splash of spring. Despite looking tired, her face glowed; the pink gave healthier shine to her milky mocha skin.

The shock of it had not yet worn off. Chorong continued to gaze, touch, and compliment her new style. Gyuri and Hyolyn had given her compliments as well, though they left the gushing to Chorong and Jonghoon.

“It’s like cotton candy.” Jonghoon ruffled the back of her hair, careful not to ruin her braid.

“I really, really like it.” Chorong the layered strands. “Is it the first time you dye your hair?”

Eun Mi nodded. “I wanted to donate my hair for a long time. I took as much care of it as I could before doing so.”

“Just how long did you keep it for you to still have so much after cutting off ten inches?”

“Very long,” Jonghoon concluded, nodding his head as if solving a great mystery.

Zico listened to their conversation, an unpleasant knot in his stomach. A bitter taste in his mouth made it difficult to speak, placing a frightening scowl on his lips and eyes. Eun Mi caught him glaring and, while in some other occasion her insides would have clenched in fear, she smiled as she waved.

Startled, Zico looked away with haste. He fished his phone out of his pocket, messaging Taewoon:  Have you seen Eun Mi’s hair?

It took a couple of minutes before Taewoon’s answer came through: Yes. She looks heavenly.

He’d been expecting Taewoon to be upset over the change. Expected to hear how disappointed he was to see her beautiful natural look disappear. Hearing that he actually liked it made Zico feel conflicted.

The week and a half that Eun Mi had been gone had given him time to think. Zico had thought himself into circles, creating a maze out of his emotions and reactions and deductions. The only clear conclusion to anything revolving Eun Mi was to apologize. He’d been the one at fault after all.

Heo PD called them into attention. The leaders lined up before the cameras, Zico and Eun Mi at opposite ends. He held a large bucket in one hand with different colored papers folded neatly, tightly into themselves.

“For this mission, we’ll be dividing you into teams of five.”

“Sub-units,” N joked with a grin.

“It does feel like that!” Chorong agreed.

Heo PD smiled tightly, sending Zico a loaded glance. So far, they’d avoided placing Eun Mi and Zico together by telling him which colored sheets to avoid. This time, they’d folded the sheet he should choose down the middle and straightened it out again. They’d done the same with Eun Mi’s.

Without fussing, Eun Mi and Zico were the first to choose; a silent agreement amongst all of them disguised as consideration for the youngest members. Eun Mi took her designated sheet first, going about it in a very dramatic way.

“Stop fishing for screen time!” Jonghoon shouted.

“Hey!” she protested, engaging him in an argument.

Zico walked up to Heo PD, eyes scanning the bucket. Their eyes met, locked. Heo PD’s warned him not to do anything reckless, to follow the rules and keep his distance like they’d agreed. Zico’s flared with defiance, the very same defiance that always got him in trouble.

Without thinking twice, he selected at random, ignoring the crews’ shocked expressions. Heo PD would have stopped filming if it had not been for how the rest of the leaders quickly made their own selections. They were so happy, feeling refreshed by the mountain air and the casual, lax filming schedule that he did not have the heart to trouble them. Besides, what were the chances that Zico would end up in Eun Mi’s group? Surely the heavens weren’t that cruel.

Eun Mi sat between Jonghoon and Zico, squeezed by their massive shoulders. She wiggled, elbowing Zico.

“Zico, I can’t breathe. Moooove.”

In response, Zico leaned against her all the harder. She grunted as she collided with Jonghoon. Chorong turned around, looking at them from the passenger seat. N looked at them through the rearview mirror.

“You two are getting along very well today,” he teased. “What happened to Tom and Jerry?”

“Who is Tom? Who is Jerry?” Eun Mi demanded to know.

Chorong pointed a manicured nail at her. “Jerry!” She moved it to Zico, “Tom.”

“Why am I the cat?!”

“Because Eun Mi is more cunning.”

“Ha!”

Despite Heo PD’s worst fear that Zico would cause trouble, he’d been relatively calm. Eun Mi, Zico had discovered, did not attempt to avoid him. No longer blinded to her professionalism, her dedication astounded him. If he allowed her to, she joked with him without reserve. They ended up being a powerful combination during their missions.

A change had occurred in Eun Mi since that night at the apartment. It was as if all the fear she’d had of Zico had vanished, communicated entirely through that punch she’d delivered. She felt at ease around him, very nearly indifferent to his existence.

She pushed him off her just as the car hit a bump. Jonghoon and Zico ended up smacking their heads on the roof. They complained loudly as Eun Mi laughed her head off at their misery.

The MT had turned out to be more fun than she had expected. Chorong had told her that they would have a bonfire later that would only be filmed for an hour or so. Afterwards, they’d be given free time to either sleep or continue talking. Eun Mi had never participated in a bonfire before. She was looking forward to it.

Jonghoon rubbed his head, complaining at N’s driving. Zico looked out the window, the scenery outside looked strangely familiar.

“Hyung,” he said, “isn’t this the way to the lake?”

“Mm. We’re going to the lake.”

“Ah!” Zico clapped once. “We’re going bungee jumping!”

N nearly drove off the road.

The bonfire burned bright and tall, flames crackling as they consumed the wood hungrily. The last of the filming had been finished an hour before; the crew proceeded to have their own celebratory BBQ while the leaders talked, played, slept, or otherwise occupied themselves.

Despite their astounding teamwork, Zico and Eun Mi’s team had lost during the bungee jump. While Jonghoon and Zico had jumped right away, N had taken a really long time to do so and Eun Mi and Chorong had flat out failed. Both girls had opted not to jump, earning their team a penalty of plus ten minutes each, leaving them without much chance of beating the other team.

Jonghoon sat with his guitar on his lap, strumming a new tune with a beer at his feet. Tae Jun listened carefully, giving him feedback whenever Jonghoon asked. Sunggyu had turned in for the night, along with Gyuri and Hyolyn. Eun Mi, Jimin, and Chorong huddled together, listening to Jonghoon’s guitar.

“It’s like he cast a spell over them,” Tae Jun complained.

N grinned, drinking his beer. “If I got up and danced, they’d be shocked. If I’m this y while simply hanging out, imagine how y I am when I dance.”

Tae Jun rolled his eyes so hard they almost rattled inside his sockets as they moved. Eun Mi laughed so hard her sides hurt.

Zico watched it all with a bottle of water in hand. He’d reverted back into that unusual pensive-self that had appeared since the night at the apartment. Tae Jun tried his best to disguise Zico’s behavior as exhaustion, attempting to spare Eun Mi any discomfort.

But the bad blood between them had been spilt, hot and wild and savage. Neither could ignore the mess that lay at their feet, beckoning them. They both knew they either had to clean it up or leave the battlefield. However, neither of them could leave seeing as their one casualty was someone they both treasured very much.

“Are you going to be a producer in the upcoming season of Unpretty Rapstar again?” Jimin asked, shooting the question over the fire at Zico.

He looked up, eyes shadowed by the flames. “No. Too much work.”

“And evil editing,” Jimin said.

“And fake drama,” Chorong sighed.

“And bull,” Tae Jun concluded.

Jimin nodded her agreement. “And bull. Still, it gives us rappers and opportunity. Is DAEE interested in auditioning?”

Eun Mi shook her head, tossing Jonghoon a bag of dried squid. “She hates it for all the reasons you just said. She says she wants to do it as CELESTIAL’s DAEE, not as rapper D-Aie.”

Zico raised an eyebrow. “D-Aie? I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

Eun Mi shrugged. “It’s been a while since Su Jong fished her out of underground. I think he did it because he had a crush on her.”

Tae Jun shot her a sharp look. “Don’t even joke like that, Song Ma Ri.”

An icy tension settled in the camp. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, everyone, that is, except Eun Mi. She was used to Tae Jun’s uptight personality and his militaristic way of running things. While he intimidated others, he simply annoyed Eun Mi the way any older cousin would. Often and with the tiniest of things.

“Why? What’s so bad about Su Jongie liking DAEE?”

Tae Jun pursed his lips. Jonghoon pressed his guitar against his stomach as he leaned forward to ask, “Does your label allow dating between their artists?”

“There’s no rule against it that I know of. I think some of the acting seniors dated before so maybe there’s no dating ban on us either.”

“Stop gossiping,” Tae Jun hissed.

This annoyed her very much. “Choi Tae Jun, if you’re worried about your boys liking my girls, tell me straight out who you think would cause trouble and why. Don’t go beating around the bush, you know I hate that.”

Tae Jun stood, eyes ablaze. “Come with me.”

Eun Mi rolled her eyes, following him.

Everyone watched them go, shocked.

“I’ve never seen them argue like that,” Jimin murmured.

“I have,” Zico said then paused as he realized that he had been present more than once for one of their heated arguments.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” she declared.

They looked at her questioningly. Jimin kept her eyes on the fire before looking straight up at Zico. “You’re the closest to them out of all of us.”

“Huh? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Jimin exchanged her beer for a water. “You always hang out around Eun Mi, and since Tae Jun is always with her, it’s no surprise you’ve seen them argue. They’re both very friendly, despite being so secretive.”

“I’m not—”

“Now that you mention it, Zico does follow Eun Mi around,” Jonghoon interjected, his voice huskier under the influence. “Like a puppy. A very rowdy, ill-mannered puppy.”

“That’s a little rude,” Chorong chastised.

Their argument faded into the background, white noise that filled Zico’s mind with static. He swam around his memory, finding evidence that supported their outlandish claims.

Afternoons in the backyard by the pool watching them read or waking up to their bickering. Cooking dinner, both Eun Mi and Zico learning from Tae Jun. And those nights in which Eun Mi would return late to Tae Jun’s heavy warnings and long lectures.

Though Eun Mi spent a lot of time with everyone at HQ, especially Chorong and Jonghoon, Zico found a thousand and one intimate little details of L6 and CELESTIAL’s leaders. He’d somehow made his way into a part of their lives he wasn’t sure he should be present in.

Zico stood abruptly, ignoring his friends’ questions and protests as he took a six-pack and headed to the lake. His mind felt heavy with thoughts and words and memories. His heart felt exposed, poked, and probed.

He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to be around anyone and pretend he was okay. Because he wasn’t. Zico had not been okay in a very long time. It had taken him nearly as long to realize it.

He leaned against one of the vans that had been parked on the pebbled earth. The large vehicle between him and the others provided a layer of shielding that he appreciated. The lake was still a ways off, dark and vast and dark and vast. It mocked Zico—a physical representation of his abysmal subconscious.

Time continued to move, taking no pity on Zico’s pitiful being drinking in solitude. He willed himself to silence his thoughts. Beer after bitter beer, Zico longed to forget. He did not notice Eun Mi until she was beside him.

She leaned against the side of the car, her feet digging into the damp, pebbled soil. In between her hands, she held a sweaty can of beer. The cardigan she wore swallowed her, falling down below her knees, shrinking her already small size even more.

She didn’t say anything. She stood beside him, drinking her beer. The lake stretched out before them, the night wind rippling its dark surface. The leaders’ chatter traveled down to them, a constant happy, playful sound.

Zico took a swing of his own beer, the six-pack at his feet down to four. “Who taught you to drink?” he asked, breaking the silence with a whisper.

“Tae Jun oppa. He taught Kain, Jongie, and me the year we turned nineteen.”

“Do you like to drink?”

Eun Mi held up her beer. “Yes. Though I never do it to get drunk.”

“Are you good at drinking?”

“Yup. I can hold my liquor pretty well. You?”

Zico chuckled. He took a drink. “I’m pretty lousy at it. Get drunk too quickly.”

“You lightweight.” Eun Mi smiled as if she had already known.

They drank together in silence for several minutes. Zico’s mind lightened as his eyelids became heavy. Eun Mi sensed the shift in his demeanor the moment it happened, when he went from sober to buzzed to slightly drunk. She said nothing, drinking quietly.

“We lived in the same building,” Zico said, his voice a little too happy, a slight bit too loud. “You lived in the same building as Block B.”

Eun Mi paused, thinking back on the training years she lived with her aunt instead of her fellow trainees. “Mm. We lived there for a while, but our apartment was nowhere near yours. I found out when an unnie I know asked me to keep an eye on her cat while she was away.”

“Did you know?” he inquired.

“Know what?”

But Zico didn’t specify, didn’t explain himself. He dropped his empty beer can (his fourth already) on the ground after crushing it. He swayed as he pulled his shoes off, pulling the legs of his pants up below his knees. Eun Mi placed her drink down, following a staggering Zico to the lake’s edge.

He sat with his toes in the water, arms propped up on his knees, hands clasped. She sat beside him, fighting her hair out of her face when the wind attacked. Zico reached over, his sudden movement making her flinch.

He hesitated only for a moment before combing his fingers through her hair. Eun Mi’s brow creased, her eyes confused. Zico’s long fingers tucked her hair behind her ear, his thumb caressed her cheek.

They looked into each other’s eyes, both searching for very different things within their gaze.

The ghost of something powerfully sad existed in Zico’s sharp eyes. It glowed like the moonlight brushing the surface of the lake’s minute waves, the image of sad little birds fluttering against the current. It struggled to stay alive though it had clearly already died. Suffocated, perished under the weight of his heart.

He swallowed, tongue heavy with words he longed to utter but would never be able to—because he had messed up. Because he had done as he pleased instead of as he should. Fame had seemed so sweet, love so empty, work so promising.

I hate you. I love you. Leave. Stay. Why him? Why us? Why now?

Eun Mi’s expression grew troubled the longer he stared, the longer he continued to gently caress her cheek. Zico’s eyes suddenly cleared, focused.

Eun Mi had drawn her cardigan around her tightly, a shield against the cool breeze of the lake. It wasn’t only big, it was too big. It was a man’s cardigan. It was Taewoon’s.

Zico’s face twitched painfully, his lips curling into a grimace. He pressed his palm against Eun Mi’s cheek, locked her into his gaze. He willed her to understand, to decipher the storm that raged within him. He wanted her to hear Jiho’s words, to comprehend and accept Jiho’s truth.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of the water lapping against the shore, the distant laughter of the campsite behind them, the whispering of the wind was drowned under the presence ofh is apology.

Eun Mi’s lips turned up in a tender smile. She nodded once. Zico lowered his hand, turning away as he resumed his position facing the lake; eyes unfocused, glazed over by tears.

The apology, long overdue, swirled around them, tying them together with an experience neither of them would soon forget.

Zico wondered why life couldn’t have those drama-like moments in which the main leads fast-forwarded through the painful experiences. Or why he could not access his memories in flashbacks where he could see the point of view of everyone present. Where he could hear their thoughts and be an almighty presence that knew everything. Zico wished he could read his life as a book written in third person omniscient. Maybe then he could make sense of everything that surrounded him.

A sneeze from beside him made him jump. Eun Mi sneezed again, continuously for a few seconds before looking up. She sniffled, rubbing her nose. “Excuse me.”

Zico blinked a few times before bursting into joyful laughter. Heat rushed to Eun Mi’s cheeks. She pressed her fingers, hidden underneath the sleeves of her sweater, to her face. Zico ruffled her hair, smiling. “Cute.”

Eun Mi swatted his hands away in the same manner that she would Tae Jun or Jonghoon’s. She punched his shoulder lightly, a slight bit carefully. Zico replied with another laugh. She smiled, relieved.

“You should go sit by the fire,” he said, patting her head.

The affection transmitted through his fingertips onto her scalp filled her with sorrow. She made sense of him then, in that moment with his eyes glazed over with drunkenness and sadness, she understood the dark depths of the ocean within him.

Eun Mi understood and turned away.

“I should. It’s too cold out here. Are you heading back?”

“I’ll stay out here a little longer.”

She sniffled, rubbing her hands on her face. “You’re kind of drunk. I’ll send one of the guys over to walk you back.”

Zico nodded. Eun Mi stood.

“Don’t jump into the lake. Woon-ah would kill me if you died on my watch.”

The smile on Zico’s face wavered. Woon-ah.

“I won’t.”

Eun Mi nodded then paused. She bit her lip, her thumbnail halfway up. She brought her hand down, clasping and wringing it with the other. Zico looked up at her, aware only of the most obvious expressions on her face against the dim moonlight.

Finally, with a shaking voice, Eun Mi asked, “Friends?”

Something inside Zico’s chest exploded, hot and cold and dark and sad. He inhaled, averting his eyes for a single moment before giving her his best grin. “Friends.”

Eun Mi gave him her signature smile, nodding once more as she headed back to the others. She wrapped her arms around herself, Taewoon’s cardigan enveloping her.

Zico watched her go. What he felt...it was pride. It was prejudice. It was love.