“You're really good at that game,” Sejeong says.

Jieqiong looks over from her bed.

They are not the unlikeliest of roommates, nor the most awkward, but Sejeong has always been closer to the younger girls and Jieqiong has Nayoung. However it had been the manager’s idea to shuffle them all around at least for these few nights in Paris so they would get closer, or something.

“Oh, the word connecting game? Yeah.”

Sejeong does not miss the small twist of emotion that flashes over Jieqiong’s face to be replaced by the smile that barely meets her eyes.

Takes one to know one, her mind whispers.

“How did you get so good?”

Jieqiong puts her phone down, eyes Sejeong warily and Sejeong realizes a little too late that this is not the question she really wanted to ask.

“I had practice,” Jieqiong says.

Sejeong shrugs, “that's still really impressive though, that you can think of the words so quickly since they're well, not your native tongue.”

“Nothing is my native tongue anymore,” Jieqiong snaps.

Sejeong blinks twice in quick succession.

“I'm sorry,” Jieqiong says, rolls over and turns away, “I didn't mean that.”

They both know she did. The clock ticks, once, twice, thrice.

“I'm really good at smiling,” Sejeong says.

Jieqiong rolls back over, “What?”

“I'm really good at smiling,” Sejeong says, “it makes