Yuri hates Tiffany.

That isn't true—it's not that she hates her, just that she hates everything about her. Her smile, so perfect with it's pearly rows of teeth paired with the crescent curvatures of her eyes. Her laughter—the way she'll put her hand on Yuri's shoulder like placing an inherent trust in her, how she'll double over and put her fingers over her lips—yes, Yuri hates it. She hates the twinkle in Tiffany's eyes, she hates the consistency of musical joy in Tiffany's voice, and she hates Tiffany's linguistic preferences for cute nicknames and loud exclamations.

Most of all, she hates Tiffany for making Yuri fall in love with her.

"You can't fake hating someone enough until it comes true." Sooyoung had said, once. It hadn't been about Tiffany, but Yuri had felt determined to prove her wrong. 

When Yuri dances alone, it feels like power—a release of anger, a release of feeling, like the fire that's been burning inside her is finally releasing cinders and sparks and smoke—it's freedom.

Some days, when Yuri is lonely and sad and wilting inside, she'll stay behind in the practice room after everyone else has left, and sit in front of the mirror, contemplating her body, shoulders wilting, hair sweat-pasted to her forehead, before she finally reaches for her phone and plays her dance playlist.

One day, Tiffany stays behind too.

"I can't seem to get the choreography right." she says, sweetly, and smiles, eagerly, like it's so effortless for her to just spend more time around Yuri. "Can you help me?" 

"Sure." Yuri agrees—because in the end, she'll always give into Tiffany. 

When Yuri holds Tiffany's waist, repositions her arms, adjusts her posture, she feels guilty. 

She's just teaching her, of course, but the burning guilt still rises from every ghostly touch, because she likes it, and smoky images flash in her mind of her kissing Tiffany on her soft lips and of her taking Tiffany's hand in her own, and then she hates herself even more. 

Yuri remembers Taeyeon's quirky smile and her secretive eyes that night they had shared a hotel room—the lilt of Taeyeon's voice when she had grinned and said "Have you ever kissed a girl?" 

"No." Yuri said, because she hadn't, but she had dreamed of it. 

"I have." Taeyeon had replied, rolling onto her side, and Yuri was envious. Not of Taeyeon's daring escapades exactly, but of her bravery to be open, anyway, proud of her feelings. 

Yuri could never be proud—mostly because she was afraid. Afraid of words like lesbian and gay—her breath would catch imagining the angry netizens commenting on some "lesbian rumor" article. 

She wasn't gay, she was straight. She didn't love Tiffany, she despised her. 

Yuri was an exceptionally good liar, but not to herself. 

"You can call me Stephanie if you want." Tiffany says. Standing in the almost empty practice room, hair in a sticky ponytail, tank top riding up just slightly, Tiffany—Stephanie—still looks beautiful.

"You have too many names." Yuri laughs.

"Stephanie's my real one. They always called me that back home."

"Mm."

"I wish you spoke English. I feel like I can't tell you everything in Korean."

Yuri feels anxious again. 

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"Do you... Do you think you have the choreography down?"

"Yeah. Lets go home."

Yuri puts on her hoodie. When she gets back into her bed, she researches books on how to learn English before she goes to sleep.

"You know Hyoyeon is a better dancer than me." Yuri says one day. "Why don't you have her teach me?" 

"Because I like spending time with you." 

Yuri's heart sinks.

It's an endless cycle. Think about Tiffany, give a tiny thing Tiffany says a bit of hope, stand in front of her mirror, nails raking and digging into her own skin, angry at Tiffany and most of all, angry at herself.

Seohyun notices her sadness, asks her what's wrong. Yuri doesn't know. 

"Will you ever get a boyfriend?" asks Tiffany. "You gotta get out there, give something for the media to feed on."

"I'm not really in the mood." Yuri says. 

"I'd date you if you were a guy." Tiffany laughs. "Wouldn't we make a great couple?" 

Yuri stares at her reflection in the mirror. She wishes she was a guy. 

As Yuri clicks off the lamp in between the two hotel beds, she hears a murmur.

"Yuri..." Tiffany whispers. "Can you sleep with me tonight? I feel lonely."

"I-"

"It's cold... Please." 

Yuri shifts the covers of her bed and walks slowly across to where Tiffany lies. When she crawls next to where the other girl lies, Tiffany turns to face her. 

"Thanks." she says, wrapping her arms around Yuri's waist and burying her face in the crook of her neck. "I love you." 

Yuri stares at the ceiling. "I love you too." she says, and she means it. 

It's not Tiffany she hates at all. It's herself.