Morning
CompromiseIf someone asks Irene to define her relationship with Joy, she would say, “We’re friends.”
They’re friends because they do what friends do. For example:
a) They do grocery shopping together (Irene sticks to her list, Joy buys whatever she wants).
b) They hug (Irene initiates, Joy responds).
c) They talk about each other’s problems (Irene talks, Joy listens).
If someone had asked her the same question a year ago, she would’ve said, “We’re dating.”
But they didn’t do anything couples do. For example:
a) They didn’t go on dates.
b) They didn’t kiss.
c) They didn’t tell each other ‘I love you.’
Oh, but they gave each other nicknames. Couples do that, right?
“Since we’re dating, should we give each other nicknames?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re dating.”
“I’m still Sooyoung and you’re still Joohyun.”
“But we’re dating.”
Irene isn’t sure why she was insistent on giving each other nicknames. Maybe because she’s never been with someone this long and she wanted to celebrate? Yes, that makes sense.
“Why Joy?”
“Because you make me happy.”
Sometimes, Irene wonders what their relationship would be like if they had stayed together (although it hardly counts as a relationship).
“Did you love me?”
Joy looks up from her book. She’s frowning. “Did I what?”
“Love me.”
Joy looks down at her book. She’s still frowning. “We agreed not to talk about this.”
Yes, but Irene wants to know. “Did you love me?”
Joy flips a page.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Flip. Three pages. No one reads that fast.
“Are you angry?”
Joy’s bookmark falls to the floor but Joy doesn’t pick it up. Instead, she closes her book and places it on a table. Joy isn’t frowning anymore but something about her expression makes Irene feel guilty.
“No.”
Irene pulls her hoodie’s drawstring. She shouldn’t do this because it makes the strings uneven and she hates it when that happens. But she keeps pulling and pulling because she needs to do something and this is all she can think of.
“Sorry.” Joy rubs her eyes. She does that when she’s tired. “What are you doing?”
“Pulling my hoodie’s drawstring.”
Oh no, she’s pulled one side all the way down. See, this is why she shouldn’t have pulled the strings. No, that’s wrong, there’s only one string because when one side goes down, one goes up so it’s not two strings but one. Where’s the other side?
“Take it off.”
Irene lets go of her drawstring. “Take it off?”
“Yes.”
Irene s her hoodie and waits for the next instruction.
“Give it to me.”
She gives her hoodie to Joy.
Is Joy angry? She said no but that could’ve been a lie. After all, people frown when they’re angry and Joy’s frowning so she must be angry. Or maybe Joy is focused because she’s trying to fix Irene’s hoodie. Some people frown when they’re focused and others frown for no reason.
“Here.”
Joy returns her hoodie. The drawstrings, no, that’s a plural, the drawstring is even. Irene zips her hoodie all the way up and thanks Joy because it’s polite to say thank you when someone helps you.
“I’m sorry, I won’t say it again.” Irene holds on to Joy’s sleeve.
Joy rests her hand on top of Irene’s. She avoids Irene’s gaze and softly squeezes Irene’s hand. “It’s fine, I’m sorry too.”
They rarely have a fight but when they do, they both surrender almost immediately.
Did they fight like this too when they were together?
”Isn’t Irene a beautiful name? It fits you.”
”You really think so?”
Why did they —
Joy’s voice startles her, “What’s wrong?”
If Joy is Wendy, she would’ve come closer to Irene, maybe offer a hug then a kiss, either on the cheek or lips. But Joy isn’t Wendy, Joy never initiates physical contact and Irene never questions why.
“Can I hug you?”
Joy doesn’t move.
Irene examines the black streaks across the wooden floor and looks for a pattern but she can’t find any. All she can think of is Joy and rejection hurts and she doesn’t want Joy to reject her. She shouldn’t have said anything, this is why her relationships never last.
Just when she’s about to pull her hoodie's drawstring, Joy’s warmth surrounds her.
“I’m sorry.”
Irene relaxes. “Why are you apologizing? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Joy’s fingers dig into Irene’s shirt and skin, something even Wendy has never done to her. But it isn’t painful so Irene lets her.
“They offered me a position in London.”
Irene pulls her closer. “I know, I saw your letter.”
Joy buries her face in Irene’s neck, and Irene shivers as Joy’s breath tickles her skin. “Will you be okay?”
Irene isn’t a child, she’s older than Joy and she can function by herself. She managed to survive before she met Joy, didn’t she?
(Yes, but she was lonely.)
“I’ll be fine.”
Lying isn’t her strong suit. And Joy understands Irene more than anyone else, so she must’ve seen through Irene’s lie. Irene wants to hold Joy closer but that’s impossible because there’s no more space between them. This is the closest they’ve ever been and will ever be.
(And Joy is going far far away soon.)
“I don’t understand. We’re hugging, it’s been more than 20 seconds so why,” Irene clings to Joy. “Why am I sad?”
Irene should be happy because that’s what happens when she hugs someone for at least 20 seconds. Her body releases oxytocin and she becomes happy.
But instead of smiling, Irene is crying.
“I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all.”
Irene doesn’t know how and when it started but Joy became part of her routine like saying good morning, having breakfast together, and watching Friday night quiz shows.
But if Joy leaves, Irene’s routine changes and she hates that. No more good morning, no more breakfast together, no more Friday night quiz shows.
No more Joy.
(No, no, no, she doesn’t want that, please, she doesn’t want to be alone again.)
Joy wipes away Irene’s tears and leans closer, so close Irene can see her reflection in Joy’s eyes, she must look so embarrassing, so pitiful, so helpless, she needs to smile and be supportive but here she is being a selfish crybaby and giving Joy another reason to leave oh God why won’t her tears stop Joy will —
“It’s okay to cry.”
And just like that, all Irene’s thoughts disappear.
“I told you, didn’t I? You don’t have to pretend around me. If you have a question, ask. If you’re tired, rest. If you want to cry, cry. I won’t think less of you.”
Ah.
Of course.
Joy is her safe place.
Irene leans closer. Her reflection in Joy’s eyes doesn’t seem so terrible anymore. Irene is hesitant to speak because she’s unsure her voice will come out but she does it anyway.
“I love you.”
Joy stills for a moment, as if Irene has said the wrong thing. Then she smiles, her palms on Irene’s cheeks. “You should say that to Wendy, not me.”
“But I love you. I never told you and I want you to know I love you.”
“Three.” Joy smiles again, faint but warm and very very beautiful. “You’ve said it three times, once is enough.”
Irene understands this. If she says something once, and the other person already knows it, there’s no reason Irene should say it again. Repeating a statement is pointless.
But not when Joy is smiling like that.
“Do you feel better?”
Irene smiles too. “I’m always better when I’m with you.”
And for the first time, Joy kisses her — on the forehead — and Irene interprets it as “I love you.”
—
Seulgi may be a but she isn’t a heartless . Out of all the men she has slept with, a handful of them are decent and show genuine interest in her. She respects them enough to turn them down instead of leading them on.
“Can I ask why?”
Seulgi pushes her dinner plate aside. The lasagna is too salty, even Seulgi can cook better. “I’m not interested.”
Wooyoung leans back against his chair, sighing. “Never thought I’d hear that. Karma, I guess.”
A waiter comes and refills Seulgi’s glass with red wine. Seulgi thanks him.
“Are you seeing someone?” Wooyoung asks.
Seulgi swirls her glass. She isn’t a relationship expert, but she’s damn sure a relationship is between two people and she has no idea how many people Joy sleeps with. There's Seulgi, that stupid what’s-his-name, and Joy’s stupid ex, Irene. Nobody lives with their ex, there must be something between them.
Is Joy at home with Irene?
The two of them alone —
Seulgi puts her glass on the table. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”
Wooyoung doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t say anything. Seulgi leaves her wine untouched for the rest of their conversation.
They split the bill like they always do. Seulgi takes a taxi home and changes into a green sweatshirt, the latest addition to her ever-growing pile of clothes she borrows (not steal) from Joy. She flops onto her bed. Her bed smells like Joy, a mix of rosemary mint and lime. Plenty of men have slept in her bed but nowadays, she doesn’t allow anyone else to sleep in her bed except Joy.
“Are you seeing someone?”
Men always ask her the same question and Seulgi’s answer is always no.
It’s not a lie.
But she kind of wishes she could say yes.
A Scrabble board sits on Seulgi’s desk with dozens of tiles scattered on the corner. Seulgi takes a handful of tiles and arranges them on the board.
J-O-Y
What a silly name. She had made fun of Joy’s name when they first met, why call herself Joy if her real name is Sooyoung? It’s not like Joy was born overseas. And Joy isn’t an idol, she doesn’t need a stage name.
“Seriously, Joy? You do realize your name sounds like a five-year-old came up with it?”
”You do realize I don’t care about your opinion?”
Joy’s name doesn’t fit her at all.
Well.
Maybe a little bit.
—
Experiments are fun, Joy thinks. It’s easy: read research papers, do an experiment, collect data, identify problems, find solutions, revise the experimental procedure, draw a conclusion, then she moves on to something else that catches her interest.
Seulgi is anything but easy.
Seulgi triggers Joy’s ‘happy’ chemicals: endorphin, serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin. Seulgi makes Joy feel good, so Joy keeps coming back for more and more. But being with Seulgi has its side effects, Seulgi messes up Joy’s brain, so Joy needs more of Seulgi to feel better, and now Joy’s stuck in a loop.
From: Seulgi
I’m bored let’s play Scrabble
“Do you have to go somewhere?”
Joy locks her phone screen. She can’t leave now, her evening walk with Irene has barely started. “It’s just Seulgi looking for attention.”
“Have you told Seulgi you’re leaving?”
Joy is used to answering Irene’s questions from why is the sky blue to why do people have but anything related to Seulgi always trips her up.
“You haven’t, have you?”
“I only tell those who matter.”
Irene points to the yellow scarf around Joy’s neck. “Then why are you wearing this?”
“I’m cold.”
Irene shows the weather report on her phone. “It’s 15 degree celsius. The last time you wore a scarf, it was snowing and you took it off because it was itchy. You wear this scarf because it’s Seulgi’s. Therefore, Seulgi matters to you.”
How Irene can come up with a concise analysis from a lousy scarf is beyond her. And how does she know it’s Seulgi’s?
“You have to tell Seulgi.” Irene links their arms as they walk together. “You don’t plan on leaving without telling her, do you?”
Joy fiddles with her scarf, debating whether or not to take it off. It isn’t that cold.
“Do you love Seulgi?”
Joy stops walking. Irene stops too.
“Love?”
“Yes, love, romantic attraction. Do you love Seulgi?”
Love. An intense feeling of deep affection. Considering the amount of stress Seulgi gives her, she wouldn’t use love to describe how she feels towards Seulgi.
“No.”
Irene tilts her head. “You don’t love Seulgi?”
Joy huffs. No, she does not have an intense feeling of deep affection towards Seulgi, unless Seulgi’s messed up her brain to the point Joy can’t identify her emotions.
“There’s nothing to love about Seulgi.”
Irene takes Joy’s hand. “How long do we have?”
“I’m leaving in 3 months.”
“No, not that. You’re meeting Seulgi, aren’t you? How long do we have until then?”
Joy doesn’t like where this is going. “An hour.”
She must’ve undone her scarf because Irene ties it back. Not too loose but not too tight, just right. For someone who dislikes eye contact, Irene’s gaze is captivating, as if it has the power to make Joy say yes to everything Irene says.
“Did you notice? No matter who you’re with, you always go back to Seulgi.”
—
To Seulgi, Joy is vodka. Joy screws up her wellbeing but if Seulgi knows just how much to take, it kind of feels like love. But Seulgi always takes too much and at some point, Joy becomes her addiction.
Except Seulgi can live without alcohol for weeks.
Or months.
Even years.
Okay, she’s exaggerating but Seulgi swears she can stay away from alcohol for at least 3 months. She doesn’t depend on alcohol as much as Joy depends on caffeine.
Seulgi hears a knock. She knows it’s Joy because only Joy knocks instead of using the door bell. Joy looks as apathetic as ever (not that Seulgi minds, she’s used to it). She’s wearing Seulgi’s scarf, and Seulgi has to control her face so she doesn’t grin like an idiot.
“What is it this time?”
Seulgi presses a palm against her chest and fakes a hurt expression. “I just want to play Scrabble, is that wrong?”
With Joy, it’s never just Scrabble but tonight, Seulgi has something else in mind. Joy gives her a wary look. She takes off her coat but she keeps Seulgi’s scarf on.
“Have you had dinner?” Joy asks.
“Are you worried?”
Joy is good at maintaining a poker face but her actions and words are a dead giveaway. “Do you want me to cook?”
“I want lasagna.”
“Again? Aren’t you getting sick of it?”
She should be, but she isn’t. “Just like you, I guess.”
They play Scrabble while waiting for their lasagna to cook in the oven. Joy may have an extensive vocabulary with her fancy sciencey terms but Seulgi’s more creative with her words.
S-E-U-L-G-I
“Your name isn’t in the dictionary, it’s invalid.”
Seulgi waves her hand. “Stop being a hypocrite, most of your sciencey words aren’t in the dictionary.”
“They exist on the internet.”
“So does my name.”
It’s Joy’s turn to play. She stares at her tiles for a moment, then she places them on the board.
P-L-A-N-E
“Seven points,” Joy says. “Same as your name.”
“Please, I’m worth more than anything in this world. What’s more important than me?”
Joy’s poker face slips for a moment but it’s back on as if nothing has happened. She straightens her back. “Depends on who you’re asking.”
“You.” Seulgi leans over the table, reaches out, and tilts Joy’s chin. “I’m asking you.”
“You moved the tiles.”
“So? We never finish our game.”
Joy wraps her fingers around Seulgi’s wrist but she doesn’t push Seulgi away. “We should.”
“Why?”
Seulgi isn’t as smart as Joy but she’s not an idiot. Call it instinct or whatever, but something’s wrong with the way Joy avoids her gaze and shuts instead of their usual banter.
And Seulgi isn’t sure if she wants to find out.
Joy lets go of Seulgi’s hand. Their eyes meet and Seulgi has a feeling whatever Joy says next will either be the three words Seulgi’s been longing to hear or —
“I’m moving to London.”
— something she does not want to hear.
“They offered me a research position, I’m leaving in 3 months.”
For a second, Seulgi wishes this is an April Fool’s prank. But Seulgi crosses off her calendar everyday and today isn’t 1st April, it’s 11th ing May.
“How long?”
Joy hangs her head. “3 years.”
“After that, you’ll come back?”
Seulgi waits for Joy to answer but all she hears is her stupid clock going tick tock tick tock reminding her of the time they have left together. She stands and grits her teeth, her back facing Joy.
“Good, I’m sick of seeing your face, did you book your flight yet? How long does it take to fly from Seoul to London, 10 hours? My hurts just thinking about it, and the crying, God, those crying babies drive me crazy. Don’t you hate them too?”
Joy grabs Seulgi's wrist. “Wait, I..”
More silence.
Seulgi’s eyes sting. No, she’s not not going to cry. Not in front of Joy.
“What, are you going to confess? We’re buddies, right? Nothing more, nothing less. It’s not quantum mechanics, what’s so hard to understand?”
It’s funny how Joy had said this to Seulgi once and now Seulgi’s the one saying it to Joy. They never make any progress and Seulgi is tired of their push and pull.
It’s time to stop.
“What am I to you?”
Seulgi waits.
The clock ticks.
And Joy doesn’t say the three words Seulgi wants to hear.
“I shouldn’t have expected anything from you.” Seulgi pulls her hand off Joy’s.
Joy looks hurt but Seulgi doesn’t give a damn because Joy is the one hurting her. Joy’s leaving in 3 months and Seulgi would rather live without alcohol for 3 years. , Seulgi’s crying. How pathetic, she can’t even hold in until she’s alone —
“I love you.”
Seulgi blinks.
Did she hear that right?
“I don’t care how much stress you give me, I love you.”
Joy steps closer until they’re an inch apart. She unwraps her scarf and loops the other half around Seulgi’s neck.
“I love only you.”
If Joy isn’t moving to London, Seulgi would’ve kissed her and said “I love you too” and maybe that does happen in a parallel universe but at this moment, Joy is kissing her and Seulgi doesn’t kiss back.
This is a lie.
Seulgi does kiss back but only for a second. Or maybe less than a second, maybe more. Seulgi doesn’t know. All she knows is she loves Joy and Joy loves her and she’s crying and it’s Joy’s fault.
“Even if I say I love you, you’re still leaving, aren’t you?”
Joy doesn’t reply but Seulgi already knows the answer.
Seulgi was right, Joy’s name doesn’t fit her at all. Joy is leaving soon but just for tonight — and tomorrow morning if she wakes up next to Joy — Seulgi pretends everything is fine and this is a happy ending she deserves.
“I love you, .”
—
It’s morning and Seulgi wakes up alone.
“We left our lasagna out all night, I don’t think it’s safe to eat. Do you want Froot Loops?”
Technically, Seulgi didn’t lie. She’s alone in her bed, she never said she’s alone in her apartment. Seulgi puts on Joy’s shirt and kisses Joy on the lips.
“Morning.”
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