Even if Ryujin tries, she can't stop thinking about the kiss. Not even the scheduled hectic week ahead can help Ryujin with that. Instead, the kiss creeps up to her in waking hours, coming back to her in dreams, a soft press of lips on lips, a proclamation of something that she doesn't understand yet, but wants to.

Like clockwork, Lia's all but silent to her, getting up when Ryujin walks into a room, putting as much distance as possible between their bodies. It's insane how, before, Ryujin won't mind the distance, would even think it necessary—but now that she knows how it feels like to have Lia pressed up against her, she knows what she's missing, and she... craves for more.

She thinks the stupidest thing of all is that she's straight. She's pretty certain of that. She never had thoughts about girls before, never saw them the way she saw boys. If she's into girls, she's pretty sure she would know—but Ryujin looks away from Victoria's Secret ads on storefronts instead of wanting to look at it, so that probably means she's straight, right? If she's into girls, she'd want to look at girls. At their bodies. s and stuff. But she doesn't—in fact, it embarrasses her to think about girls that way, feels it to be daunting somehow, and that has to... mean something, right?

It's just Lia, probably. Straight or not (and she definitely is straight, probably), being kissed by your friend of the same will probably confuse you. This is not definitely a uality crisis.

But she kissed back.

And that's... uncanny. Her brain probably thinks she's kissing a boy, programs to kiss back, not understanding still that it's Lia. That probably explains it.

But there's also the memory of that boy in twelfth grade, kissing her out of nowhere in the backseat of his car, and Ryujin remembers her mind registering this as a kiss from a boy but her not kissing back, shocked because she hadn't liked him that way. She's kissed other boys back before because she liked them enough to want to, and she obviously likes Lia, but like, as a friend. And friends probably don't kiss each other.

"Ryujin," their manager snaps, and all at once, reality dawns on her. Every day of the week has been like this: walking in a daze, only in the present when people call her name, lost in the swirling thoughts of a kiss and its head-spinning meaning. Ryujin registers that she is in one of those cold meeting rooms in JYP building, going methodically through the list of appearances and events they have to do in lieu of damage control.

Beside her, Yeji shifts uncomfortably.

"Sorry," Ryujin mumbles. "Did you want something?"

"For you to start listening, for a start," their manager grumbles. "Need I remind you that your little outburst is what got us in this position?"

"I'm sorry," Ryujin says, for what seems like the umpteenth time. She must've looked pitiful, because the manager sighs in a way that says she's not angry, just disappointed. Arguably, that’s kind of worse.

"We have to be grateful at the very least that the netizens are more or less on your side," the manager muses. "You haven't seen it, because I sure hope all of you are still upholding the no personal SNS rule, so I printed out some of the responses for you." She distributes a bunch of papers, and Ryujin, with dread, takes a peek at one page.

A comment. Ryujin looks really mad.

A tweet. If Lia can't keep up with the industry standards, maybe it's time to change? Although, she should've known what she signed up for when she became an idol...

A tweet. I think we need to remember that they're still practically teenagers... maybe if they're older we can start being strict, but not when they're this young.

A comment. Hearing that sweet, beautiful Lia has possible ED makes me feel less alone in my journey, and the subsequent, agitated reply, also in English, It has NOT been confirmed if Lia truly has ED, so try not to assume anything. It's very harmful. Just support them as best as we can.

Ryujin has no time to wonder what ED stands for, the manager's already speaking again. "But we're lucky this time. Next time one of you decide to run your mouth, they may not be so gracious," she says, tilting her head pointedly at Ryujin, who tries not to sputter. "Damage control is minimal, thankfully. All I need is for you to appear at CoolFM, make some clarificatory comments, and promo should carry on as usual. If there's one positive thing, streams for WANNABE have gone up in the last 24 hours, so be grateful that your little stunt is no career suicide." Then, more to herself than anything else, she murmurs, "Controversy really sells these days, huh..."

The corner of Ryujin's eyes twitches. She doesn't know how she feels about her genuine feelings towards Lia being written off as controversy; the way she reacted may have been disproportionate, but it doesn't make the message less true, as angry as Lia was (is?) about it. It feels... cheapened, somehow, this controversy take. But she bites her tongue; she's already spoken too much.

The manager continues on, but try as she might, Ryujin finds it difficult to concentrate solely on her and her instructions. Her eyes keep drifting towards Lia, sitting at the furthest end of the table, eyes turned away. She’s avoiding even the mere idea of an eye contact. No, not just avoiding—straight up ignores Ryujin, her multiple texts in the immediate after, a feeble attempt at a casual conversation at breakfast. It's probably karma serving Ryujin right, and she bets she'd have a better time handling this if the rest of the group isn't also giving her silent treatment, too. Even Yeji is apprehensive with her, and it hurts almost as much as Lia's avoidance does, coming from their leader.

But Ryujin refuses to apologize, not for what she said.

The meeting ends not soon enough—and Ryujin will be hearing the sound of their manager droning on the words controversy over and over on her deathbed, probably—and, flanked by security, they start to make their way downstairs, but not before their manager gets up and catches Lia by the elbow.

"You guys go ahead," she says. "I need to talk to Lia alone."

Lia can't look more like a deer stuck in headlights at that moment. Ryujin wants to save her.

"Okay, unnie," Yeji nods meaningfully up at Lia, ushering the four of them out before Ryujin can do more stupid things. Probably a good call, but Ryujin's also pissed.

The last Ryujin sees of Lia is her soft black hair, swishing on her shoulders as the manager pulls her into another meeting room. The elevator doors close, and then Ryujin misses her.

*

For her part, Ryujin doesn’t mind keeping to herself—except for when her mind wanders back to that kiss in the kitchen, which happens more often than Ryujin likes.

It’s just—look, even at times when she doesn’t think about the kiss, it’s only because she actively refuses to think about it, which still means that the picture of them, pressed against each other under fluorescent lights, is still plastered on the front of her mind. She has no idea how to make it go away. The most confusing thing is she doesn’t want to. And she doesn’t know what to make of that.

She keeps thinking about what Yuna said, remembers that at the time she said it, it seems so absurd that Yuna would think that she’s drawn that way. And now she sits alone in her bedroom, Yeji camping out with Chaeryeong because they both have decided to not want to talk to her now, slowly going insane trying to connect all the dots.

Does this mean Lia is… into girls? Romantically? Has Yuna always known? Is that why Yuna cornered her that day? But if, in fact, Lia is… not straight, why didn’t she tell anyone else? Or is Ryujin the only one that didn’t know? But why would Lia kiss her?

Does this mean Ryujin is… a lesbian?

Ryujin groans, burying herself in her pillow. The bed next to her is mockingly empty. She told herself that she deserves this silent treatment from her members, but she isn’t so sure now. Being alone while her mind races a hundred miles per hour like this is… well, lonely.

She jumps out of bed. Her first instinct is to go to the kitchen, grab some honey potato chips and eat the whole bag until she feels better about herself, but the kitchen feels sacrilegious now. It’s not that she might run into Lia—she’s not back home yet from her meeting—it’s that she might run into just about anyone, and with everyone pissed at her now, she doesn’t think she wants to risk the awkwardness.

She looks outside of the window. The crescent moon is pale among the clouds. She grabs her airpods and slips into the balcony.

The cold air bites into her skin, but Ryujin kinda need to feel something, so she lets it. Airpods in with the noise-cancellation feature on, Ryujin leans against the doorframe and closes her eyes. Insistent beats knock against her eardrum, a constant dum dum dum, and Ryujin tries to match her thoughts to the song, sorting it out.

Does she like kissing boys? Yes, she does. Although none of them has felt the way Lia’s lips felt. Wait, does this mean that she didn’t actually like those kisses? Has Ryujin been… whatever it is that she starts to suspect, and not known it? But if she is, wouldn’t she be able to say those things? The labels? Then why does it feel so daunting? And why does kissing Lia feel so good?

She lets out a frustrated breath. Okay. Try again this time. But don’t go down a spiral.

Does she like kissing boys? Yes, she does.

Does it matter that kissing Lia felt better than any of the boys in high school? Not really. Unless—

She startles when she feels a heavy fabric draped over her shoulders. A thick wool blanket. She looks to the balcony entrance to find Chaeryeong standing there, a bulky sweater on over a pair of pink velvet pajamas. 

Ryujin lifts off one airpod.

"Please don't catch a cold," Chaeryeong mutters.

Ryujin blinks. "Thanks?"

Chaeryeong huffs, but she doesn't make another move. Just sort of leans against the windowsill, as if waiting for Ryujin to do something. With baited breath, Ryujin scoots over, making space for Chaeryeong to sit, presenting it with a flourish.

Chaeryeong sighs, and she still looks like she'd rather be in a dumpster than here, but she sits down, and that's progress.

"Do you—" Ryujin clears . She's not used to stumbling over her words like this. It's very unbecoming and frankly, annoying. "Do you have any idea what manager-unnie might want to talk about alone with Lia?"

"What do you think?" Chaeryeong retorts, but quickly softens at the way Ryujin flinches at that. She sighs, and tries again. "Probably our nutritionist."

"Why, so she can have a new diet program?"

"And a psychiatrist, too. Probably."

Ryujin fidgets in her seat. In her ear, the music is playing, an off-beat dum dum dum that feels out of place for this conversation. "I looked up the definition of ED today," she starts. "Because that's a term that appears in a lot of the comments. Anyway, it stands for—"

"I know," Chaeryeong says sagely.

"Do you think she—"

"I don't know, Ryujin," Chaeryeong says, and she sounds impatient this time. "That's what the meeting with the psychiatrist is for. We're not supposed to—assign a diagnosis on people like that. We're not medical professionals. And you should know better than to believe everything you read on the internet, Ryujin."

"I know that," Ryujin says, frustrated. She hits the stop button on her phone harder than she means to, and exits the Spotify app. Silence hangs between them like an oversized elephant. "I'm just... worried."

"I know. We all are."

The way Chaeryeong states that, so matter-of-factly and almost detached, makes something in Ryujin twist in tight knots. In a flash, she's standing up. "Then why didn't any of you do anything?" Ryujin demands. "And you! You acted like I was delusional for thinking something is wrong with Lia."

"Because!" Chaeryeong throws her hands in the air. "I know you would react like this! I was trying to save Lia!"

"From what?" Ryujin exclaims. Chaeryeong stiffens up at her raised tone, and the other girl exhales shakily, running a hand through her hair. "I swear, ever since I noticed, you all have been acting weird. You—you keep giving me these... looks... and I could never understand what those mean. It makes me feel like—like I'm guilty of something."

To her part, Chaeryeong doesn't look surprised, as if she's been waiting for Ryujin to ask this question a long time ago. She folds her arms on top of her knees, and Ryujin can see the myriad of thoughts racing in her mind.

"I talked to manager-unnie about this, before," Chaeryeong says. "This isn't... the first time Lia exhibited those behaviors. But the first time is a long time ago, and she got better. I didn't think of... it as a recurring problem, more like a... scraped knee, you know? Put bandaid on it and you're fine. So when you told me Lia started acting weird, I just thought it was you projecting yourself, or something."

Ryujin folds her arms across her chest. This is the first time she realizes that there are so many layers to Lia that she still doesn't know, and it leaves her questioning if there are still more, maybe things she'll never discover. It makes her feel sick to know that this isn’t the first Lia was like this, even more sick to have the confirmation that the first time, Ryujin didn’t know. It feels like a sin, somehow.

She's not thinking when she says it, but she wonders if it's part of the reason why she tells Chaeryeong, "Lia and I kissed yesterday."

And Ryujin's expecting shock, maybe, or even—disgust. She knows not everyone thinks two girls should be kissed. But Chaeryeong takes it like Ryujin's confessed that she borrowed her favorite eye curler and lost it—resigned, a kind of, what can you do? It's already done. And then her shoulders deflate, her eyes going unreadable again.

"Ah," Chaeryeong says. "That's exactly what we wished wouldn't happen."

It's blatant, like it's something that Ryujin herself should know, and it hits her like a freight train—the knowledge that she's been kept out of secrets.

"We?" she whispers, even though she already knows the answer.

"Yeji, Yuna and I," Chaeryeong confirms for her, and even if there's an amount of guilt in the way she says it, Ryujin wouldn't notice. She's far too hurt by the fact that they're keeping things from her, that despite her thinking Chaeryeong is her person in this group, Chaeryeong talks about her behind her back. And about something as... salacious as... whatever this is that she has with Lia, too.

Ryujin closes her eyes, and opens them again, hoping her vision clears of the red tinges that signal her anger. She doesn't want to explode again, but oh, how she wishes she could. "What does that mean?" Ryujin asks, hating how she doesn't sound calm. "Did you guys—did you all know?"

And how, exactly, could they all know even before Ryujin understands what it is that made her kiss Lia back?

"No, we didn't, exactly—" Chaeryeong cuts off, shrugs. "It's just—a feeling, really. Look, it’s kind of public knowledge that Lia likes you."

And that is just absurd. A maniacal laughter bubbles out of . There is no way her life is real, because that's a huge joke.

"We're not even... friends, until recently," Ryujin says. "She's way closer to Yeji. If anything, she has a crush on Yeji. Not me. Besides, I'm not—"

I'm not gay is what Ryujin is going to say, but in that moment, she realizes: if she's straight, she probably wouldn't need to defend the idea that she's straight this much.

Chaeryeong just raises her eyebrows. "Really? You two had a whole moment in Paris. Lia asked you to buy a summer house together."

"Yeah, as a joke," Ryujin insists. "It's like, for the show."

"Oh my god," Chaeryeong buries her face in her hands. She looks up. "Just—look, Lia likes you, and that's a fact. Do you want to know why I kept giving you those looks? Because up until then, I was convinced you didn't like her back. I wanted to save Lia from the heartbreak. If you started paying more attention to her, I was worried Lia might think you liked her back—then you would have to reject her, then it would be awkward not just for the two of you, but all of us.” In a quieter voice, Chaeryeong finally says, “I was trying to find out if Lia's feelings are reciprocated—because if they are, well, that's... a problem."

Why would it be a problem? Ryujin is about to demand, and realizes in a flash just how stupid that question would've been. It's as easier as the ABCs: two girls, big K-pop group with a lot of cameras. Potential for scandals. Her gaze is weak on Chaeryeong, and Ryujin finds this time, the look Chaeryeong gives her is decipherable: she's scared. Concerned, worried.

Because it's not just Ryujin and Lia (if, hypothetically, Ryujin decides exactly that these confusing feelings mean she likes Lia). The whole group's ed if this ever gets out.

The unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air between them.

With a disheartening groan, Ryujin falls back next to Chaeryeong. "God, my head ing hurts," she says. "I need about a million years to process all this."

Chaeryeong pats her back in sympathy. "It doesn't have to be a big deal—"

"How? The cat's out of the bag now, right? I can't go back to normal again," Ryujin bites her lip. "It's just—I need to figure this out. I don't even know what I am."

Distantly, she thinks about the one article that comes up on her Google news alerts completely by accident: K-Pop Idols Who Definitely are At Least Biual...

She remembers how icky she makes her feel, the thought of strangers compiling a set of out of context moments and trying to pass it as evidence that these people are not straight, as if uality's some kind of fun murder mystery people love making theories over. She feels a lot like that now—what does it mean, that her Chaeryeong ostensibly knows about her apparent non-heterouality before she even does? Has she always been obvious all this time?

She thought about the one interview she did, just days ago. Ah, I actually got scouted at a JYP nation concert, she'd said. But I only gave my number to the unnie because I thought she was pretty...

“I’m sorry,” Ryujin finally says, leaning against Chaeryeong. The scent of strawberries fills her nose. She wonders if noticing how girls smell like, more than anything, is another indication that she should’ve known. “For exploding like that. Not that it’s any excuse, but I just—couldn’t stand the way that one emcee is cornering Lia, you know? I don’t want her to get hurt.”

With one last heavy sigh, Chaeryeong wraps one arm around Ryujin’s shoulders, pulling her closer. Ryujin is grateful that Chaeryeong still wants to touch her like this. Not a lot of girls probably would want to, if they thought their best friend is into girls.

“I know,” Chaeryeong says. “I forgive you.”

*

 Ryujin takes a deep breath.

Chaeryeong’s gone back to her room after Ryujin finishes pouring her heart out, kindly leaving Ryujin to figure out things for herself. She reminds Ryujin that whatever it is that Ryujin decides for herself, it’ll be fine by her, and that other members would accept her no matter what, but to please, give the others a bit of a moment to forgive you. They’re still pretty pissed, you see.

As soon as the door closes, Ryujin jumps back on her bed, opens up her laptop. She usually uses it to watch dramas—and maybe watches a heck lot of TWICE performances, which she used to always call research—and around, but this time, she types in the search bar purposefully. She reads many articles, some even in English—and she feels kind of proud of herself for not needing Google Translate anymore—but mostly in Korean, about the different spectrums of uality and gender, romantic attraction and ual exploration. She spends hours reading, that by the end of it, her eyes feel dry and red, but she thinks she knows now, finally. It’s still a tentative idea, but she feels comfortable saying it.

She takes another deep breath, steels herself.

One: x is an unknown variable.

Two: y is Ryujin kissing Lia back.

The correlation between x and y most definitely means that Ryujin is biual. A person who is attracted to her own gender… and others. She still doesn’t get what gender expression is, but she knows enough to discern that there’s no really a gender that’s opposite of her. So: attraction to her own gender and others.

Which makes x: Ryujin likes Lia, too.

Okay, Ryujin thinks to herself, that felt right.

It’s close to dinner time when Ryujin hears the sound of a car pulling up, the low hum of the engine and the whirr of the brakes as it parks right up in their carport. Her heart jumps to her chest. Lia. Out of the window of her room, she sees Lia stepping out of the car, shuffling into the house.

She slams her down open, runs down the stairs two at a time at a dangerous speed, and skids to a halt in front of the front door. Faintly, she registers the sound of other footsteps too, ones as noisy as hers—other group members, coming to greet Lia, the heart and the glue of the group, the most beautiful of them all.

“Lia-yah—” Yeji is yelling out, but the rest of her words are swallowed up by a huge, all-consuming feeling inside Ryujin’s chest.

Ryujin’s eyes meet Lia’s.

And then, it’s time to face the music.