The headset on Joy’s head felt more like a vise than a set of headphones. Everything was amplified, a reverse sensory deprivation chamber.

 

The radio shows were Joy’s least favorite comeback activity. There was something about being trapped in a glass container, cameras flashing through the weakest facade of privacy, that irked her and spiked her insecurities. And the hosts knew this, too. They thrived on it. Every camera shutter and second of silence were akin to cattle prods. Any misstep on Joy’s part and she would be and exposed to the harsh reality of the public eye.

 

She tried to avert her attention when need be, being grounded occasionally by a stern and matronly look from Irene. To Joy’s disservice, her intense paranoia that was spurred on by the large microphones and crushing headsets went chiefly unnoticed, otherwise.

 

In a profession such as hers, audio stimulation was key, and any faltering in her voice on the stage that was the media circus would be immediately noticed.

 

Joy shot the cameras a bright, and fake, smile and exhaled deeply through her nose. She could get through this. After all, an hour of suppressing extreme discomfort paled in comparison to the years that Joy’s been repressing her real emotions.

 

…

 

She remembered the day that Wendy had stepped into the practice room. Joy had remembered how foreign and new she looked. And not new in the literal sense, new as in refreshing. She was bright, and happy.

 

Immediately, she was the center of attention.

 

“She’s from Canada?”

 

“She must be good…”

 

Joy had overheard boys and girls alike fawning over Wendy. It was only natural, her charming nature was rather disarming and different from the usual air of competition. To Joy, Wendy was a revitalizing breath of fresh air after weeks of smog and haze.

 

Joy would admit she was jealous of the attention that Wendy was receiving. Wendy was older, naturally more commanding of respect, and more inviting and interesting than anyone in the room. Joy knew that she was too good for anyone in that room, and she yearned to protect the purity that Wendy embodied.

 

Day after day, Joy watched from afar as Wendy reached out to other trainees, baked them cookies, and eventually made friends.

 

Joy sat in bitter regret as she watched the people around her start talking to Wendy and befriending her, living Joy’s dream life.

 

It was 3 weeks after Wendy arrived that she finally had noticed Joy. The younger woman was sitting in the corner of the practice room, dead to the world as she focused on every beat and chord of their practice music. The other trainees had hopped directly into choreo, but Joy preferred to dissect and analyze the music before she let the fluidity of motion integrate itself into her routine. Call her overzealous, but Joy preferred to stick to what she knew.

 

So day after day, she planted herself in the corner of the room, headphones in as a sense of privacy, eyes screwed shut in concentration.

 

She had opened her eyes instantly when she heard a rather loud laugh cut through her music. Annoyed, Joy shot a look in the general direction of the laugh. It happened to be one of Wendy’s trainee friends, and as Joy narrowed her eyes in exasperation at the woman, Wendy shot an apologetic smile at her.

 

Joy’s face instantly relaxed. Wendy’s brown eyes seemed to cut through her. Joy relaxed into the wall a bit, sliding down and readjusting her position. Wendy’s eyes curled into small crescents, looking fondly at Joy.

One look and Joy’s heart was hammering. She averted eye contact immediately.

 

…

 

A week later, Joy had begun to practice the choreo. Still in her corner of the room, and still silent. She watched herself intensely in the mirror, not paying attention to the others in the somewhat cramped room. The other trainees had quickly learned not to bother her when she was in this state, except Wendy of course.

 

She had missed a rather important step in the choreography, stumbling over her feet and cursing under her breath when someone approached her. Joy, not in the mood to talk to anyone, had prepared to fight any criticism. She dared not to even glance at whoever was in her vicinity before she spoke.

 

“Hey if you could off and let me focus I’d appreciate it.” She said, her voice dripping with venom. Joy wasn’t typically like this, but if she wanted to debut one day, she had to focus now. That’s what her parents had drilled into her, anyway.

 

She hastily turned to face whoever was stupid enough to interrupt her. It was Wendy. Joy’s face immediately softened when she saw the disappointed look on Wendy’s face, and the tray of cookies with little frosted smiley faces that Wendy was holding.

 

“O-Oh sorry.. I…” Wendy said, backpedaling and dropping her head apologetically.

 

“Wait! I-”

 

Wendy looked up at her, eyes swimming in unshed tears of embarrassment. All of the other trainees had stopped to watch Joy’s outburst.

 

“Hey! What are you all looking at? I bet I could think of a thousand other things more interesting than what you chicken-headed idiots call entertainment around here.” she snapped, making pointed eye contact with the other people in the room. As if struck by lightning, they suddenly reanimated and began striking awkward conversation, Wendy and Joy forgotten.

Wendy hadn’t moved.

 

Joy kicked the floor in front of her pathetically, waiting for Wendy to say something.

 

“I’m sorry if I caught you off guard-” Wendy started, her voice wavering.

 

“Please don’t apologize…” Joy said.

 

“I just noticed that you looked a little lonely over there and I wanted to bring you these.”  Wendy said, offering the tray to her. Wendy smiled at her shyly.

 

Joy grabbed a cookie without hesitation, inspecting the bright yellow smiley face plastered on the top of the pastry.

 

“Not lonely.” she said through messy mouthfuls of cookie.

 

“These smiles are really well done. You’re quite the artist, uh-” Joy paused (as if she didn’t know the woman standing in front of her), stumbling on a name.

 

“Seungwan.” she smiled, and her genuine and toothy smile shot through Joy and warmed her to the core, and sent a pink blush to her cheeks.

 

Wendy smiled back at her.

 

“Well sorry for being such a , Seungwan. I’m Sooyoung.”

 

…

 

It was a few weeks later when the day of the trainee showcase approached. The mere thought of it terrified Joy, trainees went home all the time during the biannual cuts. This wasn’t her first, but every time they neared she grew more panicky and nervous than normal.

 

By no means should she have been, though. It was well known that Joy was one of the hardest working at SM, but she still had her worries. It was especially harder given her relative lack of trainee friends. I mean, she talked to Irene and Seulgi on occasion, but never enough to warrant full friendship.

 

One by one, like animals to slaughter, the kids were lead into the room with panelists that would judge their singing abilities, dancing abilities, and character. Joy always thought of it as some sick talent show, and the judges were notoriously relentless. In her 2 years at SM, not one candidate had received positive feedback.

 

Joy was always one of the last to go, for whatever reason. The practice room was nearly empty, aside from Seulgi, Irene, and Wendy. There was a hesitant air in the room, as there had been talks of a new girl group, and all four women couldn’t help but feel a little excited. But this also meant that the pressure was on tenfold, considering the rumors.

 

An employee with a gruff voice opened the door to the practice room.

 

“Park Sooyoung.” he said, slamming the door behind him.

 

Joy gulped and took out her headphones, her hands shaking as she did so. She breathed shallowly and lowly as she walked sullenly to where the man had shut the door.

 

“You’ll do great, Sooyoung. I’m your number one fan, I’ll have you know.” a small voice piped up from behind her.

 

Joy inhaled sharply and  turned to see Wendy standing behind her, waving a small paper that read “We Love Park Sooyoung” in extremely neat hangul.

 

Joy cracked a goofy and nervous smile. “I love my fans!” she said, playful sarcasm laced in every word. She deeply appreciated Wendy’s support, and her voice relaxed Joy.

 

Wendy smiled back at her, quietly chanting “Park Sooyoung! Park Sooyoung!” as Joy flaunted her way out of the room, flipping her hair as she went.

 

Wendy’s enthusiasm happened to be the missing piece to Joy’s confidence that day, as after her performance, she was hailed with knowing smiles from the judges. They rifled through their papers, squaring up a few and making hasty marks on others.

 

“You can leave, Sooyoung.” the same man from earlier piped up.

 

A week later, Sooyoung was awoken to three swift knocks on her door. She grumbled tiredly, her hair a mess and her clothes out of sorts.

 

She opened the door to find Wendy, Seulgi, and Irene standing there, in similar morning condition, but beaming smiles on their faces. Joy couldn’t help but notice how naturally radiant Seungwan was, even with the swipe of flour on the apple of her cheek.

 

Wendy, holding yet another tray of cookies, pushed them into Joy’s view.

Written on four brightly frosted cookies were the words:

“Welcome to Red Velvet.”

 

...

 

Joy never really gets used to sharing a room with Wendy. It’s weird, and kinda suffocating.

 

Like when Wendy was too tired to change in the bathroom, so she undressed in their room. Or when she’d leave Joy notes with cute smiley faces around the room. Or when she would sleep so soundly she snored a little.

 

Joy was in deep, and she felt like it was impossible to breathe. At first she thought it was just because she never had a roommate at the agency. But the more she realized it was because of Seungwan, and not because of a new experience, she got more and more scared.

 

Suppressing things came easy to her. After all, she wasn’t out to anyone. She had suffered through feelings she wouldn’t be able to reciprocate, and she had suffered through a painfully religious home life. And now, she would suffer through whatever she might be feeling for Wendy.

 

Things got a little easier when Yeri had joined and became her new roommate, forcing Seungwan to room with Seulgi and Irene.

 

She thought it would be relieving, but she just felt empty. She missed Wendy’s smell, the intoxicating mix of vanilla and sandalwood, and she missed Wendy’s habit of crawling into her bed at night after rough performances.

And this wasn’t to Yeri’s discredit either. Joy very much enjoyed her presence, she just wasn’t Seungwan.

 

It hurt the most when Wendy still called herself Joy’s number one fan. No matter how clingy or affectionate Seungwan was, the kisses on the cheek behind closed doors and the hugs on broadcast never felt like more than fanservice. The only thing Joy wasn’t skeptical about was her true feelings for Seungwan, which only worsened as the years went on.

 

…

 

The radio host looked at Joy expectantly, and all of the four other girls turned to face her.

 

Irene lightly kicked her shin under the table, shooting her a glare.

 

“Oh sorry, can you repeat that?” Joy said, smiling robotically.

 

“Ah yes, I said, If you had to date any of the members, who would it be?” The radio host said, a devilish glint behind their dark eyes. It was uncanny, and Joy froze.

 

She stared at the large microphone in front of her, eyes glazed over in panic. Her chest tightened, and it felt like her headset did too. Joy’s hearing went fuzzy, and she dug her nails into her thighs.

 

Irene, visibly annoyed, spoke in her place.

 

“I would date Wendy, probably.” she said, a prideful smile on her face.

She winked when Wendy shot her finger guns, and everyone but Joy laughed.

 

Joy’s breathing got more and more shallow, and she felt like she was shrinking into her own body. She was sweating profusely, and she thought she would vomit. The last time she had an episode like this was when her parents had first dropped her off at the agency.

 

Her nails, leaving crimson half-moons on her otherwise spotless legs, dug in deeper as Joy searched for a hold on any kind of reality she could manage. Not only was she exposed, but Wendy was flirting with Irene.

Her world was crashing around her on live broadcast.

 

She willed herself to normalize her breathing, counting in her head as the radio host droned on and on about something Joy couldn’t bring herself to care about.

 

The minutes passed by even slower after that, and Joy willed herself not to cry until they had returned home.

 

The host ended the broadcast, and Joy was brought out of her haze by the obligatory clapping and chatter as the show closed.

 

Joy, drained and tired from the rush of panicked adrenaline, walked corpse-like behind her members as they filed out of the glass cage. Joy kept her head down for most of the walk, not noticing Wendy shooting her a concerned and sad and glance.

Yeri walked alongside her, and linked their arms to lead Joy to the van.

Joy lifted her head slightly, only to see Irene’s hand on the small of Wendy’s back, leading her to their destination. Joy’s neck went slack once again, and felt all semblance of oxygen leave her body.

She didn’t think she would be able to stop crying once she started, so again she willed the tears to wait.

 

She sat silently in the car, listening to the other girls talking amongst themselves as new moons appeared on her thigh, a constellation of heartache painting itself onto her body.

 

…

 

They walked into the dorm together, and their indistinct hum of conversation passed through Joy languidly. All she could focus on was the crater-like hole that was where her heart should have been.

She dragged her feet into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her, trying to be as invisible as possible. She slid down the length of the doorframe, sobbing quietly. The tears ran down her face, taking the makeup with it.

 

Her head was in between her knees, the sobs making her body convulse. The only steadiness she had was provided by herself, her dancer’s body supporting the crushing weight of the reality that had just settled.

 

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she had miserably and pathetically crawled her way to her bed. Her body was growing weaker the more she cried, but her sadness was morphing into anger. How could she be so stupid? So naive?

 

She balled her fists into her sheet, her breaths getting sharper.

 

The door creaked open, and Joy whipped around to face whoever it was. Wendy stood in the doorframe, looking absolutely broken at the sight of Joy, small and alone, crying in her bed.

 

“Sooyoung oh my god..” she said, running to Joy’s bed at the end of the room. She wrapped Joy in a tight embrace as best she could, but Joy lay rigid.

 

“Get OFF of me, Seungwan.” she said, her voice hoarse from weeping.

 

Wendy obliged, reluctantly.

 

“Sooyoung, please what’s wrong?” she said, her voice shaking with worry.

 

Joy sat up and hung her legs off the side of her bed.

 

“What the do you mean by that, Wan?” She refused to look at her. Wendy grabbed her chin and forced Joy to look at her.

 

Joy grabbed her wrist and yanked it away from her, shedding more tears as she did so.

 

“I said don’t ing TOUCH me, Wan! Please just leave me alone..” She trailed off, hiccuping sobs breaking her words.

 

“Sooyoung I’m not leaving you like this.” Wendy said, and she was crying now too.

 

“I love you Sooyoung, please-”

 

Joy’s head shot up, anger and sadness dueling in her glare.

 

“Don’t say that. You don’t love me. You never will, Wan.” Joy accused, staring at the older girl in front of her.

 

Joy’s chest tightened once again, a half confession had slipped its way out of her lips, and there was no going back.

 

Wendy stared at her.

 

“Sooyoung I LOVE you.”

 

“Shut up.” Joy sobbed, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes.

“I LOVE you.” Wendy repeated, kneeling down to place her chin on Joy’s knees.

 

“You don’t… not like I love you.” Sooyoung said, her voice quieting as more tears streamed down her face.

 

“I love you, Sooyoung.” Wendy said, kissing Joy’s skin wherever she could reach.

 

“Wan, please stop..” Joy trailed off again. In a weak effort to protect herself, she pushed Wendy off of her, the sobs still racking her body.

 

“Sooyoung please..” Wendy sobbed, crumpled on the floor, forcing herself to sit up and look at Joy once more.

 

“I love you so much. Not as a friend, or a member. Sooyoung I love you so much it hurts. I can’t hide it anymore.” Wendy said, her voice weakening as she trailed desperate kisses on Joy’s thighs, where the crescent moons had appeared.

 

Joy’s voice was barely audible. “You love me?”

 

Wendy’s shoulders dropped, and she let out a heartbreaking but quiet sob.

 

“I’m so sorry, Joy. I should have told you sooner. I’m so so in love with you…”

 

Joy’s sobs slowed a bit, and she gathered the strength to look at Wendy,

 

“You are?”

Joy pulled Wendy off the floor by her arms. Wendy looked ashamed.

 

“I love you too, Seungwan.” Joy said, kissing Wendy’s forehead. She attempted to swipe the tears away from the older woman’s face, but they showed no signs of slowing.

 

She pulled Seungwan into her and held the woman to her, squeezing tightly. She fell back onto the bed, and Seungwan snuggled into her, still crying.

 

There was a sense of relief that washed through Sooyoung, but she was so beyond emotionally drained that it was impossible to form coherent sentences.

 

Both women traded long overdue “I love you”s as they cried in each other’s arms. It was all that they could handle at the moment, and both women fell asleep soon after.

 

…

 

Joy had woken up alone. She feebly searched for Wendy’s body where she was the night before, but felt the comforter.

 

Sadness seeped into her bones. She knew it was too good to be true. Her heart ached, and her head was pounding.

 

The door creaked open, and a disheveled looking Wendy walked in, carrying yet another tray of cookies. Joy attempted to hide her face, shame and embarrassment heating her cheeks.

 

Wendy sat on the bed without a word. She tapped Joy’s shoulder and handed her a heart-shaped cookie that was frosted the same blue that corresponded with Wendy’s group color.

 

“I love you. This is me metaphorically and literally giving you my heart.” Wendy said, prodding Joy again to make her take the cookie. Her voice was strained.

 

Joy turned over to face Wendy, who looked exhausted.

Joy smiled weakly, and took a bite. She couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. It still didn’t seem real.

 

Wendy grabbed a green cookie from the tray and handed it to Joy. Joy giggled and handed it back to Wendy.

 

“Ditto,” she said through a large mouthful of cookie.

 

They had a lot to discuss.