It’s the ticking clock against them.

It’s the scurrying time against them.

It’s the slipping seconds against them.

Do they crumble down?

No, they don’t.

“Your hips,” Chungha guides them one by one, Yoojung assisting after she succeeds the first try, “they should go like this.” The new dance moves they have to master is yet another gift they want to give.

It’s okay if some don’t look upon them favorably.

It’s okay if they can’t light up every face there is.

It’s okay if they aren’t known to a part of the world.

“You haven’t forgotten our greeting, right?” Yoojung jokes.

"Get off if you forget," Sohye mock-frowns.

"Now, now, guys," Chaeyeon tries to stop the playful fight.

“Yes, I love it!” Mina cheers, Somi whooping loudly from the back. The driver jumps a little, startled, causing Mina to laugh. It thrills her to be there saying those words, being eleven with them again.

It’s okay because the ones they see are their precious fans.

It’s okay because the ones they hear first are the ones who will wait.

It’s okay because the ones they hold dear

embrace them tighter with a love stronger than their fears.

“Remember,” Nayoung softly tells the younger members, “if you are tired, tell us quickly—we’ll get you a chair, somehow.” It’s tempting to ask why they don’t even get chairs—they have never seen a group chairless in award shows before, but they’re rookies, and they know better than to raise questions against earless walls.

It’s the circumstances against them.

It’s the invisible voices against them.

It’s the petty tug of wars unseen but publicly known—against them.

Do they let it break them?

No, they don’t.

“If you're tired, I will piggyback you for five minutes,” Sejeong promises, following Nayoung’s words. “But only if you don’t bounce on my back,” she quickly adds, grinning. The dongsaengs visibly deflate, and Chaeyeon laughs at their synchronized drooping shoulders.

It’s okay if they have to stand yet another hour.

It’s okay if they have to fight off the heat among cameras—

when others have waiting rooms, or seats to lean on.

It’s okay because they can lean on each other.

“Repeat after me,” Jieqiong claps, “let's erase any expectations.”

“Yellow popcorns,” Doyeon choruses. The other dongsaengs solemnly act as the echo. Somi does a half-air half-sound falsetto, coughing in the end, with Yeonjung sympathetically slapping her back to soothe the rocky throat.

It’s okay if they can’t hold the trophy Somi so wanted to have.

It’s okay because they have showed all they could give.

It’s okay because—

“We’re sorry,” one of the fans says, and Jieqiong shakes her head quickly.

“No. Please don’t say stuff like that.”

No sorrys should've existed between them and their reasons to go through the day.

It’s okay, really.

It’s okay, but—

“I’m sorry we can’t show you only flowers,” another fans shouts, her voice cracking in emotions—and Yoojung looks away, eyes already b with unshed tears.

It’s okay if they don’t bring anything home—

but seeing the ones always supporting them looking back with guilt,

when it should've been proud smiles and loud cheers...

it makes them wonder

if they’re simply not good enough.

“Guys,” Chaeyeon whispers, “seatbelts.”

They lower their windows, waving to their precious pillar of supports.

One holds a banner that reads, ‘you’re the only one to us!’

And Sohye hides her face in her palms, her feelings too mixed for her to understand.

It’s okay, their brain chants.

Yet it feels like it’s not—the voice deep in their heart rants.

It’s confusing tonight.

The emptiness in the air is somber—in contrast to the blasting songs they usually put on the mp3 player.

And their van slowly parks,

near the Han River.

“Everyone,” Nayoung calls. “We’re here.”

Those sitting near the window quickly notice where they are, and proceed to scramble towards the door.

“Unnie!”

“Han River! Han River!”

“Huh?” Yeonjung bemusedly asks. “What do you mean Han—“

“Ah, just get off!”

Despite Chaeyeon and Sejeong being the ones near the door, they get off the last, laughing at the shrieking kids ahead.

“AAAAAAAAH!” That’s Somi.

“FRESH AIIIIIIIIIIR!” The slight vibrato tells us that it’s Yeonjung this time.

“IOI ROCKED THE DANCE BREAAAAAK!” Yoojung, always the relatable one.

Jieqiong shakes her head, bringing with her several blankets to distribute to the dongsaengs. It’s amazing how their excitement can ward off coldness, but they’re no Elsa and cold will bother them sooner than later.

“Where’s Chungha unnie?” Doyeon whines. “Unnie, come with us!”

Chungha waves from the van, laughing at the echo Yeonjung and Yoojung attempt to make for the ‘us’.

“Nayoung unnie too!” Mina yells. “Nayoung unnie come meet your relatives!” She gestures to the stones near her feet, and Sohye cackles at the joke.

“Nayoung unnie, breathe deep, calm down,” Chaeyeon instructs, eyeing the cake Nayoung’s holding warily.

“Thank you, Chaeyeon,” Nayoung half-heartedly says. “But my deep breath will blow out the candles.”

“NAYOUNG UNNIE COME NOW I SWEAR TO G—GAHD CAKE! OMOMOMO CAKE! AND CANDLES!!”

Somi’s shriek quickly clues in the others, and now the beagles have stopped running around, deep-roted in their spots whilst staring at Nayoung in shock.

Three.

Two.

One—

“CAKES!” Mina screams.

“CANDLES!!” Doyeon follows.

“IS THAT A PENGUIN MINIATURE?” Sohye hyperventilates.

It doesn’t take long before the beagles rush back to Nayoung’s sides, crazy over the sudden appearance of the cake. Chungha finally gets off from the van, handing a camera to Sejeong and a box to Chaeyeon.

“What! Why’s there a cake?” Somi fusses in awe.

“Well,” Jieqiong, who for the night refrains herself from joining the beagles, begins. “In case we didn’t win anything… we've prepared our own awarding scene.”

Nayoung nods, “Remember who wished for us to win something?”

“It’s SO,” Doyeon starts, dabbing to the left.

“TO THE MI!” Yoojung finishes, dabbing to the right.

“Must you two do that?” Mina asks, while Somi's nodding in approval.

“Absolutely,” Sohye nods, “else they’ll die from malfunctions.”

“So to Somi,” Nayoung continues, steering their convo back in track, “we grant the Maknae on Top award.”

Chungha turns on the flashlights and Doyeon volunteers to raise them high over Somi's head, mimicking spotlights.

“Whooooo!” Sejeong ad-libs, adjusting the camera in her hands like a pro fansite master. “Blow the candle, Ssom!”

Somi stares at them for a while, disbelieving. But the encouraging smiles (and the slight nudge from Yeonjung) are the only answers.

So she leans in and wishes.

A wish she doesn’t let the world overhear.

With a gentle blow, she replaces the small lights with smokes.

And with her slight chuckle, ten pairs of eyes flutter open—ending the silent prayers.

“And now, for the trophy,” Nayoung uncharacteristically grins.

“Unnies, you really shouldn’t,” Somi begins—her tired eyes crinkling along her grateful smile. Chaeyeon tuts, her eyes rolling in the dramatic way actresses in a high-rated drama do.

“We totally should,” she says, patting the rather large box in her hand. “Although, we could only afford a medium-sized trophy—“

“We melted like three trophies we have gotten for this,” Jieqiong suddenly confesses. “But don’t tell anyone about this.” She winks.

“Which trophies?” Yoojung asks from the side, successfully acquiring a flashlight from Doyeon and having fun pretending she’s in the disco. Dubs, dubs, dubs.

“Confidential information,” Nayoung calmly deflects. Even though the area is strangely quiet, someone could've been eavesdropping on them, hoping to get a headline. “Now—Chaeyeon, if you would…”

Chaeyeon opens the box and reveals a cute trophy—symbolizing Somi standing in the center during their signature final pose, surrounded by ten others. Some words are written in the little space reserved for sentences.

Doyeon wheezes.

“Sohye, why's mini-you wearing a penguin beanie?”

“That’s not me!” Sohye whines. “It’s Nayoung unnie wearing her Rudolph onesie!”

“Nayoung unnie is over there,” Yeonjung points out. “See that one with the most stony face?”

“I hate you both,” Nayoung tells them.

“She’s meaning to say that you two are cute noisy kids,” Jieqiong translates.

“What about me?” Yoojung complains, feeling like she isn’t anywhere in the trophy.

“You’re so smol,” Mina somberly answers, “so they made you the tiny sound systems near Sejeong unnie’s left leg.”

“Okay—NO HAIR GRABS,” Chaeyeon yells, putting herself between a shrieking Yoojung and a snickering Mina, “you’re here, Yoodaeng, look!”

“Unnie, you look drunk,” Sejeong tells Chungha.

“You look Yase,” Chungha retorts.

“WHAT ABOUT ME?” Jieqiong pouts.

“Jieqiong unnie, this isn’t the right scenario to say that line,” Doyeon says.

“I wonder why I love you guys,” Nayoung sighs.

Somi cackles in reply, her gaze never leaving the trophy Chaeyeon has handed her.

It doesn’t hold a privileged value award shows’ trophy does, but it’s okay.

And it really is, this time.

Because it’s a trophy that belongs to her—to them, only.

Because it’s a trophy that carries their spirit as eleven girls running side by side to reach the edge of their dreams…

As written in the little space beneath the mini-them,

the world will be a better place if you get a little bit crazy.

“Can we eat the cake now, please? Driver oppa is eyeing us, I think we’ll need to go back quickly—“

“Don’t worry, Mina. Driver oppa has promised to persuade managers to let us come back late.”

The beagles instantly exchange identical grins.

"You know what that means?"

"Totally!"

"IT'S—"

"—MY BODY PARTYYYYYY!"

It’s okay if they have to endure rough times.

It’s okay if they have to sail through hard waves.

It’s okay even if they have to keep telling themselves these reassurances—

“Yoojung, stop turning the flashlight on and off!”

“You can’t stop me! WHEEEEE!”

“Doyeon, please collect your labelm—okay hang on, where the Heck is Doyeon??”

“She’s escaping from Yeonjung after smearing the icing across her nose, Chungha unnie.”

“Oh my God that kid—YAH KANG MINA COME BACK HERE MY CHILD HOW DARE YOU SMEAR THE ICING ON ME TOO!”

Even though it gets tiring sometimes,

even though it feels too unfair to bear sometimes,

there are times like this too.

Where they create the rest of the day themselves,

where they can raise and laugh together as the winner of the night.

“Somi, you won’t join them?”

“Are you sure you won’t regret asking me that, Nayoung unnie?”

“I’m sure I will—but it’s you. I’ve learnt to love that part of you too. And no, Sejeong, I’m not sick, stop staring at me like that!”

Even though a wish isn’t fulfilled,

it’s okay, because—

being eleven is a wish came true already

and the days following it

has felt like the continuation of a dream.

Even though one acknowledgement is slipping through their fingers,

it’s okay, because—

right now, right there, this once

they’re the winner of the night

and no one can shout loud enough to convince them otherwise.