i wish you the best of luck, you deserve yourself / headless horseman

Jennie stares at her reflection in the mirror. A wig sits atop her head—it feels awkward and obvious. She hasn’t had the courage to fully shave but chunks of hair have been slowly falling out, leaving behind increasingly noticeable bald spots.

Her sister’s deft fingers had helped her style the wig, carefully teasing the roots and brushing out the bangs. Lisa twisted her lips in thought before ruffling the edges slightly and stepping back to admire her work.

“It looks pretty,” Jennie had told her with gritted teeth as she ran her own fingers through the wig. It was strange—it felt like hair, but she knew it wasn’t her hair.

Jennie methodically applies her makeup, attempting to return color to her features.  

Her skin is sallow and paper thin as the pads of her fingers press exploratorily. The image in the mirror looks like an uncanny valley version of herself. All the parts individually are her own, but somehow when pieced together she only looks like a poorly manufactured counterfeit.

The burgundy dress hangs more generously over her body than she had remembered. She knew she’d lost weight—she hadn’t realized to what extent.

Jennie felt like a mannequin: nothing more than a prettily decorated skeleton.

The feeling of being an impostor, a stranger parading herself around as Jennie Kim, relents even as she sees Minho. In his suit and tie he tells her she looks pretty.

(He, too, has become thin. Jennie pretends not to notice.)  

“What’s wrong?” Minho intuits her shift in mood, gliding his hand cautiously across her wrist as they sit in the taxi.

“It’s silly.” She gives him a small glance. Her fingers self consciously touch at her hairline. “I’m worried everyone will know I’m wearing a wig.”

“You are?” He raises a brow in a clumsy act of surprise, not doing anything to calm her nerves. Jennie frowns, and Minho squeezes her hand more reassuringly. “No one will notice.”

The taxi comes to a stop as Jennie gives him a scrutinizing glare.

“How can you be so sure?”

She steps out, taking Minho’s chair from the vehicle’s trunk and placing it by his opened door. He lifts himself from the taxi and into the chair.

“Somehow I think they’ll be focused on something else.” He laughs humorlessly, swiveling the chair in order to join her in entering the venue.

Once inside the wedding hall they’re greeted by a large portrait of Nayeon and Yoongi staring longingly at one another. Jennie smiles, despite the discomfort still swirling in her stomach. Her eyes dart to the rest of the guests mounting marble stairs. She shares a quick look with Minho before finding a staff member.

“There’s an elevator, we’ll just have to go down this corridor.” Jennie reports, holding onto the handles of Minho’s chair. As he predicted, the curious gazes are focused exclusively on him.

Yoongi greets them at the entrance to the ceremony hall. An uneasy smile finds its way onto Jennie’s features. She hadn’t fully considered that it might be awkward to