Mihae spent the weekend feeling a bit sorry for herself.  She was too shattered after enjoying the concert to feel too down about Sehun quietly excusing himself to walk Jia to the nearest bus stop to send her safely home, but on Saturday morning, about an hour and a half after Baekhyun had barged in and tried to convince Yeonhee to go on a run with him (which she of course refused), she timidly knocked on Yeonhee’s door and poked her head around it.

Yeonhee set aside the painted copy of Chanyeol’s sketch that she was working on.

“Can we watch sad films and binge on ice cream all day?” Mihae asked her, shuffling into the room with her shoulders a little hunched in her pyjamas.  “I know it was a bit of a pipe dream, but I honestly feel like I’ve just been dumped.”

Two sad films later, they’d migrated onto Iggy the Imp because Yeonhee really could not stand any more contrived angst, and Mihae was on her second tub of salted caramel and vanilla ice cream.

“I keep forgetting how good this kids’ programme is,” Mihae commented, absently scooping out another large portion of ice cream with the rim of Yeonhee’s favourite coffee mug.  Her phone bleeped, but she ignored it until the credits were rolling between two episodes.  Yeonhee saw her pursing her lips at the message and tilting her head thoughtfully to one side.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Chanyeol.”  Mihae hesitated before putting her phone back down again.  “He’s been training for a half-marathon with me and he wants to know if I’m okay because I flaked out of the training session today.”

Yeonhee eyed the tubs of ice cream.  “You should probably reply,” she pointed out.

Mihae picked up Yeonhee’s pillow and hugged it to her chest.  “And say what?  He’ll bring me food if I tell him I’m ill and I’m blatantly not ill, and if I tell him the truth he’s just going to think I’m a massive loser.”

Yeonhee thought Chanyeol was more likely to feel guiltily pleased, but she refrained from saying so.

“Pretend to be ill and accept the free food.”

“Then I’d feel like a scumbag for taking advantage of him.”

Yeonhee didn’t think Chanyeol would particularly object to that either.  Mihae tucked her chin down on the pillow.  The next episode of Iggy the Imp started playing, but she talked over it.

“I know having a crush on Sehun since first year doesn’t mean he owes me anything,” she said, “but it still kind of hurts that somebody he’s literally just met who probably has nothing in common with him can just swan in and steal his interest like that.  It’s really unfair.”

Tactfully, Yeonhee bit back life is unfair.

“Not even that,” Mihae sighed, “Sehun’s always been a republican, always disapproved of a lottery-of-birth hierarchy structure – she should be literally everything he can’t stand.  Pretty much the only thing that could make her less appealing to him would be if she was royal.  I just don’t get it.”

For a few moments, Yeonhee wondered about the best response.  Sometimes, people changed, or their opinions changed.  From what she knew of Jia’s personality, it wasn’t at all surprising that Sehun had taken to her so quickly.

“I guess it’s true when they say opposites attract,” Mihae mused, now back to shovelling ice cream into with Yeonhee’s mug at she stared at the screen.

It only took her a few seconds to segway on.

“Speaking of opposites.”  She reached out to hit pause.  “How the flying did you end up with the prince?  I don’t get my dream man but you somehow end up with your dream nightmare.”

Yeonhee barely managed to get a sentence in to the beginning of her explanation before Mihae suddenly sat up, a glint in her eye as she set aside the pillow and the ice cream and the mug.

“We need to have a proper chat about this,” she declared, patting the bedspread.  “I want all the details.  Spill the beans.”

Yeonhee hesitated.  “But I was just telling you—”

“It felt like he had pretty solid muscles yesterday,” Mihae cut her off.  “He has broad shoulders, too.  He works out, right?”

Nonplussed, Yeonhee nodded.  “I think there’s a gym in the palace basement or something—”

“Does he have abs?”

Yeonhee spluttered.  “Why do you want to know?”

Mihae bounced impatiently.  “Well, does he?”

Yeonhee sized her up, wondering if it was possible to escape the questions and concluded not, since Mihae would ask them later if she didn’t get answers now.

“I’m not too sure,” she admitted, “but I think so.”

“How can you only think so?”

“He doesn’t take his top off that often!”

“But I thought Baekhyun walked in on the two of you—”

“Not having !” Yeonhee almost shrieked.

Mihae held up her hands in surrender.  “Well, that moves me nicely on to my next question.  Is he good in the sack?”

Yeonhee’s face started to burn.

“Ey.”  Mihae nudged her with a grin.  “Come on.  We had this conversation after Taehyung too, remember?”

“We haven’t done anything,” Yeonhee told her, annoyed.

Mihae’s grin morphed into surprise.  “But he’s so smooth.  And he’s a prince.  And he’s hot.”

“And he has principles.”

Mihae didn’t even falter.  “And what’s it like, dating a prince with principles?  Does he buy you lots of stuff?  I bet he buys you lots of stuff.”

“Not really.”

“Why not?  He’s rich.  He doesn’t come across as a scrooge.”

“He offers to, but I don’t like him buying me lots of stuff.”

Mihae looked absolutely horrified.  “Girl, you should be taking advantage of this, not throwing it back in his face!”

The interrogation continued all the way through until they went to bed, sleeping head to toe.  Yeonhee was grateful that Mihae was the kind of person capable of nodding off within minutes of getting into bed, because o