“Are you sure you’re not gonna come?” Yena asks for the fifth time when they’re at Chaewon’s place Saturday afternoon.

“Hella positive, and I’m going to shove this down your throat if you ask again,” Chaewon says non-threateningly, eyes glued to her Switch.

“Are you aware that Min’s the main makeup person in the theatre club too? Apparently she’s really good at making people as pretty as her and stuff.”

Chaewon snorts. “That’s nice to know. Now why are you telling me this when I obviously don’t care?”

Yena doesn’t say anything for a long stretch of time, and Chaewon almost forgets what they’re talking about, attention focused on fighting the fifth gym leader. “Give her a chance, Chae. Minjoo… she’s been through a lot.” Her voice is soft, caring, something Chaewon doesn’t hear very often.

“You’re not going to guilt trip me into doing anything, Choi Yena,” Chaewon says, rolling onto her stomach. Something hard lands on her , probably Yena’s biology textbook.

“God, would you shut up and ing listen for once? Minjoo worked her off for this musical, and she’s juggling other extra curriculars and HLs along with it, and she’s stressed out, Chaewon, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“That’s what IB is, Yena, stressful,” Chaewon says, unsympathetic. “I’ve been through nearly four years of it and you’ve been through the same, so I don’t see what makes Minjoo so special.”

Yena doesn’t say anything, just sort of sighs and shakes her head. “Whatever. I’m going and I’m not going to lie to Minjoo if she asks about you. So you can deal with the storm when Monday comes.”

“Okay Drama Queen,” Chaewon says, turning to her side so her back is facing Yena.

The day drags on like this until it’s almost eight o’clock and Yena needs to get ready for the musical. “You need to drop me off there at least,” Chaewon grumbles as she tugs on a black bomber jacket.

“Yeah, yeah, hurry and get your stuff, lazyass,” She shoos Yena outside the door. The drive is silent, and Chaewon blasts her radio on full volume to fill in the space of unspoken words between them.

When Yena steps out, she turns around and gives Chaewon a very serious look. “Last chance Chae,” she warns. “Just… come and watch with me, okay?”

Chaewon suddenly flashes back to Minjoo’s tear-streaked face, remembers how sharp Minjoo’s words had been, the smiling in the corner of her lips no longer there, and says, “No. You go enjoy yourself.”

Yena looks heavily disappointed but she doesn’t say so, just slams the door and walks up over to the line in front of the auditorium with her hands shoved into her pocket. Chaewon shivers against the cold wind that blew in, pulling the hoodie of her jacket up and rubbing her hands together.

She looks over at the auditorium again. The line is surprisingly long, students bouncing on the balls of their feet with five dollar bills clutched in their hands. They look too excited for a low-budget high school musical. Chaewon thinks she sees Chaeyeon’s ear-muffed head poking out from the middle.

Five minutes later, Chaewon is silently cursing herself for her heavy guilt conscience as she circles the parking lot for a space. She finally manages to squeeze her van in between two others, her fingers feeling numb from the cold as she yanks the key out of the ignition.

She’s jogging towards the line, trying not to breathe through her nose because it’s so damn cold outside, when she hears a faint sneeze and turns around. On the far end where the auditorium and the gym sort of meet, there’s someone pacing back and forth, arms wrapped tight around her petite frame.

It’s Minjoo, dressed in nothing but the thin hoodie from Friday and really tight black pants. She’s looking down at the ground, muttering something underneath her breath. She doesn’t seem to notice Chaewon jogging up to her, and jumps a mile when Chaewon says, “What are you doing?”

She looks up, eyes wide when she sees Chaewon glaring down at her. “Do you even know how ing cold it is outside? Are you an idiot? You’re gonna die of hypothermia before you can even perform, oh my god, you’re ing freezing,” she exclaims suddenly when she feels how cold Minjoo’s skin is.

“Ch-Chaewon?” Minjoo’s lips are a deep shade of blue, and Chaewon’s shrugging off her jacket and wrapping it around her shoulder. “What are you even—”

“What would they do if Helena doesn’t show up? It’ll ruin the whole show!” Chaewon says, still tugging the jacket around Minjoo’s shoulders. She’s stopped when Minjoo wraps her fingers around her wrist.

“We have backup,” she explains then looks at Chaewon closely. “Are you here for the show?”

Chaewon shrugs. She’s suddenly aware of her ratty t-shirt and jeans that are starting to show her ankles. “What else would I be here for?”

Minjoo’s smile is wide despite the tremble in her lips. She looks so happy that Chaewon, momentarily, forgets she gave her ticket away.

As if she could read her mind, Minjoo asks, “You have the ticket?”

“Uh,” Chaewon rubs the back of her neck. “Actually I… I lost it.”

Minjoo sighs, her breath thin wisps of white in the air, but she doesn’t look disappointed or even surprised. “I’d figure that would happen with you. Looks like you have to pay for it now,” she says, knocking the tips of her shoes against Chaewon’s shins.

Chaewon kicks her feet back but ends up dragging her heel across the sidewalk when Minjoo quickly buries her face into the crook of her elbow and lets out a violent sneeze. “Christ, Minmin, get back inside before you seriously get sick.”

Minjoo lets out a hoarse laugh before clearing . “Too late,” she says quietly, sniffing as she rubs at her red nose. She looks up at Chaewon curiously. “It’s Minmin now?”

Chaewon sputters until Minjoo laughs, the sound a little nasally. “It’s whatever,” Chaewon says. Her body is covered in goosebumps, and she sincerely hopes the line isn’t so long anymore. “I need to go buy my ticket. You… you take care of yourself, okay?”

Minjoo seems to freeze for a millisecond before she’s nodding, eyes suddenly looking at the ground and refusing to look up even when Chaewon says her I’ll see you later.

—

The auditorium is too dark for Chaewon to navigate without tripping over every step on the stairs. She swivels her head, trying to catch Yena in this mess of people. She finally sees her, the shock of pink amongst the sea of black. She’s sitting right in the middle of the row, and Chaewon sees an empty seat next to her. She smiles.

“Wow, you’re a ,” Yena says without even looking up. Chaewon grabs Yena’s jacket and whacks her arm with the sleeves.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I didn’t come back for you,” Chaewon says. Yena finally looks at her, the knowing look on her face glaringly obvious even in the poor lighting.

“I know,” she says, turning to face forward again.

Chaewon settles in a little, stretching her legs as far as she can get them without kicking the feet of the person sitting front of her. “Hey, thanks for the seat.”

Yena rolls her eyes. “Would’ve gave it to Chaeyeon if you hadn’t come when you did. She’s probably sitting in the far back getting cozy with Eunbi.”

Chaewon cranes her head all the way back but in the pitch black of the auditorium, she couldn’t make out much of anything. She turns back when a single spotlight shines on the stage, and everyone quiets down. A hush falls over the auditorium.

The stage is sparsely decorated and only two people stand on the stage. Chaewon recognizes one of them, she thinks, a girl named Wonyoung. She’s on stage with a familiar senior (Ryujin? The star athlete from the track team?), dressed in an extravagantly decorated top and skirt that falls down to her toes. They’re talking but Chaewon can’t make heads or tails of what they’re saying.

She shuffles in her seat impatiently, wondering when Minjoo will arrive when she suddenly hears a clear voice cry out “Oh, my sweet Demetrius!”

Minjoo walks in from the right of the stage, her hoodie changed into a tight fitting beige and gold dress, jewelries that complement Minjoo’s beautiful features, and her confident demeanor that is so enchanting. Her hair is styled so that her bangs are swept to the side with hairpins but her eyes. Chaewon stares at the dark eyeliner, the way it makes Minjoo’s eyes look sharper and brighter.

“Wow,” she breathes, not even realizing she said it out loud. Yena turns to look at her.

“Impressive right? I bet she did that herself,” she whispers.

Chaewon shakes her head, leaning back as she watches Minjoo stand next to Yujin who’s playing Demetrius. She looks so regal, her back straight and head held high as she holds out a hand. Someone else steps in but Chaewon doesn’t recognize her, doesn’t really care to either since her whole attention is focused on Minjoo.

The musical moves forward fairly fast from that point on. Chaewon hears Minjoo sing for the first time, voice smooth and beautiful even as she’s getting pushed by Demetrius from the side. Her words are amazingly clear even when she’s singing them in that soft voice of hers.

Chaewon doesn’t pay much attention to plot or the background or really anything other than Minjoo. It’s like the single spot light is on her and only her throughout the entire musical, and only her voice stands out amongst the others. When she’s offstage, Chaewon tries not to fall asleep, nearly nodding off until she hears Minjoo’s voice again.

The show ends with an explosion of applause. All the cast members stand in a line in front of the stage, Minjoo in the center as she grasps Wonyoung’s and Ryujin’s hands, and bow. A few people stand up, Chaewon included, as whoops and hollers echo in the now bright auditorium.

“Wow,” she says for the second time that night. Yena laughs, stretching as she stands up. “That was… good. Really good.”

“And this is what you would’ve missed out on,” Yena says. She reaches under her chair and procures a bouquet of flowers from seemingly nowhere.

“Wait, where did you get that?” Chaewon asks.

“Oh, they were selling a bunch of them near the entrance. They ran out pretty fast though, I managed to snag the last one,” Yena explains. She looks at the flowers, expression thoughtful. She finally shoves it into Chaewon’s arms.

“What—”

“Give it to Minjoo,” is all Yena offers before she’s yanking her jacket off. “Mom’s picking me up so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Since when am I ever worried about you,” Chaewon retorts, hands numb as she grasps the bouquet probably too tightly.

Yena smiles and it’s not snarky or smug, just a simple smile as she pushes Chaewon towards the front of the stage. “Go say hi or something. Stop being an idiot.” The second command is said with more emphasis and before Chaewon can ask about it, Yena’s disappearing between the mass of bodies moving towards the exit. Chaewon has to weave her way against the crowd, bumping shoulders and elbows and full on body collisions.

She finally manages to get to the front of the stage. All the cast members are stand around, some on the ground floor and some still on stage. Up close, Chaewon can see how exaggerated their makeup is, glitter all over their arms and face, eye shadows dark and smudged. Ahn Yujin is nearly buried underneath the amount of flowers in her arms, and she’s signing what looks like another freshman’s backpack for her.

Chaewon stands awkwardly by the side as she searches for Minjoo. She sees her on the far left side in front of the stage, chatting animatedly with another short haired girl, Ryujin. Chaewon feels something like a sharp jab in her chest but she ignores it as she walks towards them.

“Minjoo,” she says. She feels awkward and out of place when they turn around and notice her, Minjoo’s face morphing from surprise to excitement while Ryujin gives her a curious smile.

“Chaewon! Did you enjoy the show?” Minjoo asks, leaving Ryujin’s side as she steps in front of Chaewon. Chaewon has to lower the bouquet to look at her face clearly. The eyeliner looks even darker up close, and the glitter is falling from Minjoo’s dress onto her black doll shoes and pretty much everywhere. She looks a little sweaty, small droplets trickling down the side of her temple.

“Yeah, yeah, I did. It, it was really good, I didn’t know… you could perform that well,” Chaewon mumbles off, shifting from side to side. “Uhm, this is for you,” she says, shoving the bouquet forward, nearly knocking it into Minjoo’s face.

Minjoo stares at it as if she’s just now noticing it. She takes it slowly, fingers brushing against the back of Chaewon’s. They’re still surprisingly cold. “Thank you,” she breathes, pressing her face into it and inhaling the scent. “Wow, they smell so nice.”

“Do they?” Chaewon says shakily. Ryujin’s still standing behind Minjoo, dressed in her Duke of Athens costume. “Uhm, hi.”

“You must be Chaewon,” Ryujin says, smile warm. Chaewon suddenly recognizes her as that student Minjoo sits with at the lunch almost every day. There’s another sharp pain in her chest.

“I am,” she says, trying to sound confident. Wait, what do I even need to be confident about? “You did a really good job. You all did.”

Ryujin laughs. “Thank you. We worked pretty hard, especially these past few days. I don’t think we got that much sleep, Minjoo especially.” She pats Minjoo on the shoulder, and Minjoo turns to give her a bright smile. Chaewon’s stomach twists.

Ryujin leaves with a wave, and Chaewon asks, “Who was that?”

“Oh, Ryujin?” Minjoo asks. “She’s one of the co-president of theatre club. I don’t know how she does it, that girl is the leader of half the clubs here. It’s a wonder she even finds time to tutor me.”

“Wait, she tutors you?” Chaewon asks. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because… you didn’t ask?” Minjoo looks at her, confusion in the furrow of her brows. “She’s been tutoring me since the beginning of the school year on physics and such.”

Chaewon blinks a few time, trying to process the thoughts going through her head. Ryujin has been helping Minjoo since day one, she’s been around Minjoo far longer than Chaewon have, and she probably knows more about Minjoo than Chaewon does. The pain in her chest returns and this time, it doesn’t go away.

“Chaewon?” Minjoo tugs on his shift. “Hey, what’s up?”

Chaewon shakes her head, her lips pulling into that fake smile Yena said could scar a child for life. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Just, uhm, yeah, congrats again.”

Minjoo looks at her, eyes narrowed as if she’s trying to look through Chaewon’s facade, but she seems to lets it go when she asks, “Hey, come backstage with me. I need to wash my makeup off.”

“Okay,” Chaewon agrees hesitantly. She isn’t prepared when Minjoo grabs her wrist and leads her to the exit door.

Backstage is really just the theatre room which also serves as a chorus room for when the cast needs to practice. Minjoo removes the jewelries and s the back of her dress and Chaewon swears she can see the curve of her shoulder blade.

“I’ll be right back,” Minjoo says as she makes her way to the restroom, hands carding through her hair.

“Alright,” Chaewon croaks. She clears and scans the room. There are costumes and miscellanea scattered all over the floor and draped over chairs. There’s a pile of hangers in the corner and along it is a row bags and purses.

She recognizes Minjoo’s backpack; the bulky thing is dumped in the corner next to a small pile of stage clothes. She walks over to it, toeing it and knocking it over on its front. She crouches down and straightens it up. She stares at it for a little while longer, fingers slowly finding their way to the zipper.

“ Chaewon, what are you doing,” she hisses as she drops her hands. She stares at the backpack some more, sees the protruding edges of what she’s guessing are textbooks pushing against the small confines of the bag. She does a quick check around; the room is empty.

“Okay, one look and that’s it,” she mutters, fingers going back to the zipper and trying to tug it up. It’s a struggle, and Chaewon’s afraid she’s ripped it when the zipper finally slides up suddenly, and the contents of the backpack come spilling out.

A particularly heavy textbook slides out and lands on the floor. Chaewon picks it up. Intermediate Physics the large red blocks on the cover spell. She frowns and picks up the next one. Calculus and Its Applications. The next one. The Cold War and the Aftermath.

“Hey, sorry I took so long, I didn’t—”

Chaewon whirls around, the Cold War book still in her hands. Minjoo’s staring at her, face make-up free, already in her comfortable clothes, looking horrified. “Uhm, I can explain?”

Minjoo seems to freeze for a split second before rushing forward and yanking all the books from Chaewon’s hands and shoving them into her bag. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” she says, voice thick.

“Minjoo, it’s okay, I just—”

“Why were you going through my stuff?” Minjoo asks. She’s struggling with the zippers and Chaewon reaches out to stop her.

It’s just— why are you carrying all of this?” Chaewon gestures towards the heavy bulk. “I see you lug this thing around ever since the first day of school, and I don’t understand why you need five textbooks in your backpack at all times.”

Minjoo fiddles with the zipper, lips pressed in a thin line. “I need help catching up, that’s all,” she says. She gives the zipper a final tug and it finally slides closed all the way.

“But Ryujin tutors you, and as far as I know, that girl is ten textbooks put together.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not the best tutor ever so.” Minjoo leaves it at that, adjusting the length of the straps.

“You could’ve asked me for help, you know,” Chaewon says, still sitting even as Minjoo stands up. “I could’ve helped you.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” Minjoo says softly. “You should probably go, it’s almost midnight.”

“What about you?” Chaewon asks. “I could—”

“Go home, Chaewon,” Minjoo says, her tone neutral as she bends down to pick up a few loose pieces of clothing. Chaewon stands by helplessly, not sure what to do or say anymore.

Go home, Chaewon. So she does.

—