The Tale of Two Office Ladies, Idol Worship, Dramatic Pining, and Rampant Homouality

OR

GLASS: A Metafic

 

1

Moon Byulyi heaved her shoulders through the elevator and dragged her feet down the hall, one hand numbly loosening her tie as the other dug for her keys in her pocket. A tired fist creaked the door open. Sighing, she stepped out of her Oxfords, and shuffled to the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and blearily read the numbers on the microwave. It was only 11pm, far earlier than most nights, but she felt like a discarded sack of bricks after yet another day at the grind. She chugged a glass of water and threw herself across her couch, cursing under her breath when her seldom-touched overstuffed pillows squeezed uncomfortably against her sides.

It was just her luck that the pretty manager, Kim Yongsun, nearly caught her trying to stream 2YoungGirls’ comeback performance at work. It almost seemed like divine intervention when she dropped her phone in a panic and the screen split like webbed tendrils over the faces of her precious 2YoungGirls wallpaper. She couldn't tell which was more devastating: her manager must've caught a glimpse, and her phone, while functional, definitely needed a new piece of glass. She threw the pillows onto the floor and willed her mind to wander away from this embarrassment.

But her phone beeped before her thoughts could settle. She reached into her back pocket with a groan. From what she could tell through the cracks, it was just another email from work. She ignored it, her eyes settling on her wallpaper instead, where her two favourite idols smiled at her. Despite the fatigue, she grinned back.

They were so lovely. Hwasa’s fierce gaze and soft smile, and Wheein’s open grin and dimpled cheeks—Byulyi would protect them with her life if she had to. They were her vitamin tablets, little bursts of happiness that got her through the day. They worked hard for her, and she would do the same for them.

The newfound burst of energy led her to her bedroom, and flipped open her laptop. As it warmed up, she gazed up at the posters around her room, and her heart swelled.

2YoungGirls was the light of her life, and she was more than proud to call herself a fan. Her coworkers had in the break room once when they saw her phone background, but they simply did not understand. Byulyi shook her head as she recalled their superficial appreciation for the group’s sound, and as unparallelled as it were to the rest of the industry, they were so much more than that. But she long got over the fact that most people are blind.

She filled the air with the sound of their voices.

It often amazed her. The way people only saw what they wanted they see. The way their line of sight seemed to skim the surface and dissolve into nothing.  

Two talented best friends, Jung Wheein and Ahn Hyejin, achieving their dreams together through thick and thin, forming their own group together against all odds. The magic, the chemistry—she could barely contain it. It was so obvious. And so beautiful.

Few people understood the depth of Byulyi’s love for the popular duo. After the futile discussion with her coworkers over coffee and indifference, she kept her love to herself, and, fortunately, no one brought it up again. There was a knowing smirk here or there whenever their eyes catch the gleam of her phone, but she simply disregarded them with her signature poker face. Until today, of all days, when her stupidly pretty manager came to her cubicle, eyes soft and dewy, to warn her about using her phone during work hours. She cursed herself for her impatience, but comeback was never easy.

She played their performance from the beginning, then a few more times to cleanse her soul. Every social media outlet must've been exploding with pictures and videos and comments. Normally, she would be right there with all the other fans, but she was far too enraptured tonight. And, frankly, far too tired for the enthusiasm of these young teenaged fans.

The pale light of her screen caught her awed expression as she watched the video half a dozen times. It never failed to amaze her how fresh it was each time. There were always little moments that left her breath in , just waiting to be found. Maybe it was Hwasa’s lingering eyes on Wheein when she sings, or the playful yet intimate touches, the way they messed up once in a while without a care, or the way they made each other smile effortlessly.

She slumped in her chair when the performance ended, but the feelings bubbled just the same. She sighed, her heart tinged with envy, but they were so pure and so beautiful, and she could not imagine them with anybody else.

Her hand was on the cover of her laptop when phone beeped again. The familiar tone told her it wasn’t an email, and her heart beat a little faster.

@DoReWheeFa: Are you asleep yet? ^ 0 ^

The corner of Byulyi’s mouth tugged into a half-grin at the simple message. Few people understood the depth of Byulyi’s love for 2YoungGirls, but if anyone did, it was this girl. They met online six months ago, in the early stages of Byulyi’s obsession, so bright and new and confusing then. Byulyi started out simply: reposting, liking, secretly building her collection. DoReWhee was a writer, a poet who happened to yearn for the same kind of companionship she did. Byulyi followed her quietly at first, content with simply smiling whenever DoRe managed to articulate the things she couldn't. But something compelled Byulyi to message her. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was loneliness. Lucky for her, DoRe’s open, bright and cheerful personality shone through the black and white. She inspired her to write, to build worlds capable of painting new lines on Wheein and Hyejin’s relationship each time. Six months later, Byulyi still looked forward to her messages, perhaps a little more than she liked to admit. DoRe stopped writing several months ago when her real life got in the way, but she never stopped cheering Byulyi on. “I’ll see Wheein and Hyejin through your eyes,” she said once, “and it will be just as beautiful.”

She never told her her real name, and she never asked for Byulyi’s. She never asked for photos, and seldom shared her personal life. But she was a good listener. Secrets lurked between her texts, but somehow Byulyi felt like an old friend. She knew that they lived in the same city.  She also knew that she was older, and incapable of choosing a bias. “My name is DoReWheeFa because @wheejin1995 was taken,” she had told her in one of their early messages. Byulyi knew she had an older sister, and that she sometimes didn’t get along with her parents, but she didn’t even know what she did for a living.

Byulyi thought she must be fluffy and cute from the way she typed. She was clever, observant, kind, and endlessly fascinating. Byulyi thought she must be perfect, even if she didn’t know what she looked like, and she did not deny the small infatuation she harboured for her friend. It was harmless, she reasoned, just like her silly work crush. Nothing will come out of it.

She picked up her phone, briefly swiped a thumb over the cracks on her message, and typed.

@moonstarbright: No, I just watched their performance today.

@DoReWheeFa: IT WAS SO GOOD RIGHT?? Their outfits were so cute~~ (•¯ ∀ ¯•) are you going to watch their LieV tomorrow? ^____^

@moonstarbright: YES. I’m so excited! Aiiish I can’t wait. But I’m at work tomorrow…ㅠㅠ

@DoReWheeFa: Mee too! ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ we can watch it together tomorrow night! Leggo!

@moonstarbright: ok ^^

@DoReWheeFa: I am so boooored. Write me a story moonstar~~~

@moonstarbright: Go to sleep~~~

@DoReWheeFa: so cold!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

@moonstarbright: sorry~~ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ I want to write~~ but I also want to sleep zzzz we both have work tomorrow!

@DoReWheeFa: can't sleeeeeep~ I keep thinking about wheesa~~ I can't stop watching the mv

@moonstarbright: I love their office lady clothes. It's very close to home.

@DoReWheeFa: I know!! I wish I could look as good as Hwasa when I walk into work~ ㅠㅠ aishhh Wheeinie is so cute too~~

@moonstarbright: DoRessi, I think I need to write an office story~

@DoReWheeFa: YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS ^__________^ you’re the best!!! I can't wait ㅎㅂㅎ

Byulyi’s laptop told her that that it was almost 2am. She had to go to work at 9am, but her fingers itched to put the story into her own reality. And it was only now, fueled by the adrenaline of the new song, and the frustrations of reality that inspiration struck.

She played their new song through the crackling speakers of her laptop, and imagined their music video. It was set in an office just like hers, and she smiled a little when she remembered the office lady attire she and DoRe had gushed over. She would be lying if the setting didn’t bleed into her own fantasies just a little bit. After all, it wasn't easy surviving sixteen hour days without a little bit of fantasy.

The manager strides into the room, all haughty smiles and oozing confidence. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and throws a folder in front a nervous Wheein, shaking in her seat at her mere presence.

Byulyi bit her lip and exhaled through her teeth, jabbing at the delete button with one hand, and running a hand over her face with the other.  

The manager strides into the room, all haughty smiles and oozing confidence. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and throws a folder on her desk. Wheein gapes. She knows plenty of executives, having been a secretary for four years now, but none are quite like Ahn Hyejin. “You must be Jung Wheein,” she husks. Wheein nods quickly, swallowing, feeling like prey under the beautiful woman’s gaze. “I am Ahn Hyejin. You will be working with me starting today.”

Wheein had heard about this woman. Cold, fierce, and y as hell. So far, the rumours didn’t lie. She feels a prickle of something when she watches Hyejin put one leg over the other, muscles taut over her supple skin.

Byulyi narrowed her eyes. This was starting to sound like a familiar plot, one urged on by a familiar softcore a series that she certainly did not read. She stood, stretched, and dragged herself into the kitchen with her mug in hand. Her hand reached for the bottle of water in the fridge, but her head shook, and, against her better judgement, she fixed herself a pot of coffee instead.

While the water dripped over the grounds, she leaned against her counter with crossed arms, her story swirling around her head in fragmented pieces. She pictured her own office building, with its stark white walls, beige cubicles, and glass offices. Her mind travelled to one particular office, a few metres from her own beige prison, where her eyes often wandered during her work day. It was her saving grace, seeing her beautiful manager working inside the glass walls like a work of art. Yongsun’s large windows often let the sun in to play with the soft pink of her hair. Byulyi always had a hard time tearing her eyes away when the sky framed her face. The room always seemed to be glowing with iridescent rays, while the rest of the office was a never-changing beige.

She sighed wistfully. The office was a sacred place, she reasoned with herself, and she didn’t want to dirty the purity of Wheein and Hyejin’s love with a story like that. She pictured the little smiles she’d see on Yongsun once in awhile. Maybe she needed to start over. Maybe she should stop thinking about her direct superior. Maybe she should stop thinking about her direct superior in the context of celebrating one of the most powerful love stories in the world.

Maybe she should stop writing at two-thirty in the morning.

She went back to her room with an extra mug of coffee, and gazed at the poster of 2YoungGirls above her bed with her hands on her hips. The way Hyejin’s arm, protective around Wheein’s waist, seemed to ignite Wheein’s eyes. The way they innocently fit into each other, smiling like they deserved the world. And they did. They really, really did.

Byulyi resumed her position over her keyboard.

“You come very highly recommended,” Hyejin says, quirking a brow as she scans over the contents of Wheein’s folder. “I suppose you will do nicely.”

She flips the folder shut, and leans closer to Wheein, elbows on her desk, her fingers knit neatly under her chin. Her lips twist into a wicked smirk, and Wheein feels that prickle again. Wheein swallows once more when Hyejin tilts her chin up with a finger. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Wheeinssi,” she says. Wheein shivers.

Like doing paperwork, Byulyi reasoned. Then having dinner together, maybe. Cooking, crocheting, hiking. It doesn’t have to be dirty, she told herself. It wasn’t dirty at all.

Despite the nerve-wracking first meeting, the first few weeks went by relatively uneventfully. She was more of a personal assistant than a secretary, and found herself thinking way too much about the pink-haired

Byulyi cursed and slammed against the offending backspace button like her life depended on it.

Wheein found herself spending almost every waking hour with the raven-haired executive.  It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it wasn’t for the way it seemed to mess with her emotions. Hyejin had been absolutely smouldering in their first meeting, but she hasn’t seen that side of her since. Not that she was disappointed. Not at all. She was just surprised. When they work together, which is nearly all the time, she was always professional. And surprisingly respectful given how many people seem to fear her ferocity. She is fierce, and not easy to please, which make it all the more rewarding when she does manage to please.

When they are alone, Hyejin is a whole different person. She is almost shy around Wheein. Several times, when Wheein caught her eye accidentally, she would look away. Once or twice, she could’ve sworn that she saw a hint of pink across her cheeksn bhjmugyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Byulyi awoke the next morning with hundreds of pages of random letters in her document and angry red squares across her cheeks.

8:45am.

She was late. Very, very late. And she felt like . Her clothes were crumpled, her face swollen, and her hair a giant tangle. Just like her life, she thought sullenly, as she tumbled into the elevator with an arm over her stomach.

 

2

Byulyi slumped over her desk.

She had spent half her morning inside that revered glass case where the angel Kim Yongsun showed a very different side of her. Her pink face, b with anger, had burned the air out of her chest. The waves of disappointment, the concerned yet flashing eyes suffocated her like hellfire.

It’s just a stupid crush, Byulyi reminded herself. She was too inept to deserve her attention anyway.

As she laid, her cheeks warm against the surface of her desk, her stomach growling, her mood too far into the ground to incite her to move, the phone blinked.

@DoReWheeFa: How are you today, moonstarsshi? Just had a craaaaazy morning

Byulyi smiled a little in spite of herself. She laid her forehead her desk, and peered into the cracked screen in her lap.

@moonstarbright: Not great, to be honest. I got in trouble with my boss…..stayed up too late trying to write that story, but I ended up falling asleep anyway ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

@DoReWheeFa: did she finally catch you checking her out ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@moonstarbright: Unnniiiieeeee!!!

@DoReWheeFa: then were you late again ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ aigoooo don’t forget your responsibilities~ 2YG would be sad to hear that you love them so much that you lost your job

@moonstarbright: ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ it was my fault I guess…….i was already in trouble yesterday she caught me streaming their comeback stage and I broke my phone orz she probably thinks I'm such an idiot…..

Byulyi squinted at the screen. No response, but her message was read. She sighed and watched the screen for any movement. A part of her told her it was unfair to expect her friend to cheer her up at all hours of the day, but another part of her really wanted to be told that she was just overthinking things. Her infatuation with her manager had never been a secret to DoRe, even when she was considering the possibility of something more between them. There were times where she talked about her manager just to see if DoRe would get jealous, but if she did, she hid it well.

The three dots at the bottom of their chat quivered, and Byulyi’s tightened her grip on her phone. She was there. Typing. Then she was gone. Byulyi waited. The three dots danced two more times until they disappeared for good. Byulyi shook the device a little, willing them to come back. Eventually, she turned her phone over and tried not to think about it.

She shuffled her papers around and typed several emails, none of which were sent. She made a few lists, but checked nothing off.

It must've been three hours later that she heard the beep, and her hand was on it before her mind could even process the sound.

@DoRaWheeFa: she doesn't think that

She is silent without explanation for the rest of the day, and it made her sick to her stomach. Even when her friend threw down a plastic container of noodles, demanding her to eat her first meal of the day that afternoon, her appetite was gone. It was irrational. She was allowed to have her own life, after all. Sure, she acted a little strange, but maybe she just didn’t know what to say. Even so, something poking around in the back of her mind told her that this was her fault, even if she didn't know what she did wrong.

She went home that night even more miserable than the night before.

Her body felt heavy when it hit the couch, and she had just enough energy to reach for the remote to her sound system and fill the room with Hyejin and Wheein’s duets. She closed her eyes, listened, and fell in love with them over and over again. Hyejin’s rich alto flitted into Wheein’s high notes in perfect harmony. In their resonance, she imagined their ups and downs, their good and their bad. Surely, they were only human, despite how much they shine on stage. Surely, they had their ups and downs.

Surely, they would be able to get through this kind of mess.

Byulyi grabbed her phone, her heart dropping just a little when she had no new notifications.

@moonstarbright: Unnie, do you want to watch the LieV with me?

Read, but no response. Again. Byulyi sighed, She didn’t feel like watching the LieV by herself. Her thumb hovered over her home screen, and dove in to open her story before she could process the action. She began to type. Maybe her characters, at the very least, would have more success than she did.

Wheein is tired of waiting. She has been standing in the airport for nearly two hours now, and the petite copper-haired girl just wanted to go home. They are going on their first trip abroad, and if she isn’t nervous enough about spending the next week with her boss, now said boss has to go and mess up her travel schedule too. Sure, it’s a private plane, and they didn’t really have anywhere to be when they landed, but she had just spent the last two hours envisioning their terse conversations, darting eyes, and her own infuriating attraction, and she just wants to get it all over with.

When Hyejin strides up to her, with her jet black hair perfectly coiffed and swept to the side, Wheein’s jaw drops. She is wearing casual black pants, four-inch pumps, and a white, short-sleeved bloused with far too many buttons undone for Wheein to stay calm. What kind of person goes to the airport looking like a vision on the cover of Vogue? Wheein thought. It's just rude.

“You’re early, Wheeinssi,” Hyejin states simply. After a month, her heart still isn't used to the sound of her name on Hyejin’s tongue.

Byulyi paused for a moment to admire her own sentence. Her smile soured when she remembered exactly how she felt this morning in the glass case. “Byulyissi,” Yongsun had growled. She still remembered how close she was, and the sensation of her breath on her nose when she jabbed a finger into her shoulder. If she hadn't felt like everything Yongsun was tearing her heart out with her bare hands while she stood there, shame-faced and about to piss her pants, maybe she would’ve remembered to enjoy the proximity and analyze the details on Yongsun’s face. After all, it was probably going to be the last time she could stand in the light of her sun.

She shook her head, and went back to her phone. 10% battery left.

It took 3% of that energy to will her legs off the couch and drag her body to her room. She plugged her phone in, gave her screen one last look, and, defeated, threw herself into her creaky computer chair.

Wheein’s breath catches in when Hyejin steps close. Too close. She can smell her perfume, and it is intoxicating. Her eyes fall to her collar, then just a bit lower down, until she just about catches Hyejin’s smirk in her peripheral.

“If you’re quite done ogling my chest, perhaps I can help you with your suitcase and start boarding,” Hyejin says with a raised brow.

Wheein flushes, and clumsily drops the handle of her suitcase as she reaches for it. Hyejin laughs, and bends to pick it up nice and slow, offering Wheein a full view of her chest once more. Wheein is beginning to think that she’s doing this on purpose, but she doesn’t complain. Maybe she would, if Hyejin wasn’t having such an effect on her.

“Are you coming?” she hears from the gate. The low chuckle that follows sends shocks right to her core, and she has no choice but to doggedly follow.

Before she knows it, Wheein is in Japan. She’s been on plenty of business trips before, but the thought of being in a foreign country with her ridiculously attractive boss in the same room...wait a minute.

“We’re in the same room?” Wheein balks.

“Of course, dear,” Hyejin says matter-of-factly, “why not save where we can?”

Wheein’s eyes must’ve popped out of their sockets. This woman is loaded. The flew in on a private jet, for god’s sakes, and she’s worried about the cost of one hotel room? At least it has two beds, Wheein muses glumly.

Byulyi gazed up at her poster of Hyejin, who looked so attractively smug in her red fitted suit. “This isn’t right,” she muttered out loud, “Why would Hyejin use the word ‘dear’?” She scrolled up, and squinted at the line of dialogue.

“Of course…………………………………………………………………………”

She blinked, then glanced down to where her finger had fallen asleep on the button. She had known exactly what to write, but going back had brought her train of thought to a screeching halt. She laid back in her chair and drummed her fingers on the armrest.

“We’re in the same room?” Wheein balks.

Hyejin ignores her as she unpacks her suitcase.

Wheein’s eyes must’ve popped out of their sockets. This woman is loaded. The flew in on a private jet, for god’s sakes, and she’s worried about the cost of one hotel room? At least it has two beds, Wheein muses glumly.

The rest of the day is business as usual. They order room service, and eat by their window, which overlooks the Tokyo skyline. Below them in the downtown district, people look like ants as they go about their evening. The sky is murky, but no less beautiful.

“You seem unfamiliar with Tokyo,” Hyejin says, dragging Wheein out of her thoughts. “Did you not travel with your previous employers?”

Wheein peels her eyes off the skyline for a moment to look at the younger girl. She knows she is staring too hard at the way Hyejin’s fork moves to when she catches that familiar knowing smirk. “I did,” Wheein says quickly. She laughs nervously. “I’ve never shared a room with my employers before though.”

Hyejin raises a brow and looks around. “It is rather unconventional, isn’t it?” she says in a blase tone. Then she resumes eating like it’s no big deal, and Wheein is left to cope with her feelings by herself. She briefly contemplates asking about the arrangements, and maybe even ask to have her own room so she can give her heart a break, but Hyejin is harmless enough, she thinks. Surely her intentions are nothing but pure.

What about her own intentions? The thought strikes Wheein like a thunderbolt.

When Hyejin comes out of the shower in nothing but a white bathrobe, Wheein begins to rethink everything.

Byulyi chanced a glance at the clock on the bottom right corner of her screen, and saw that it was already 1am. She shivered to think that she would have to relive the day’s nightmares all over again, and decided it was best to save her document and continue the next day. As she laid in bed, however, all of her willpower seemed to evaporate when she somehow ended up rewatching 2YoungGirls’ video diary from Japan last month. She smiled a little at her own cleverness, and hoped that all of her readers would understand the reference. At the very least, she hoped that DoRe would notice. They had watched it together when the video went live.

It was ridiculous to miss her already. It was ridiculous to expect her to be online at every hour of the day, even if she was often active at this time. She could only hope that this whole situation would be a little less ridiculous in the morning.

What if DoRe never came back?

That was the last thing she remembered before her breathing evened and her phone slipped from her fingers and onto the carpet.

 

3

Byulyi arrived early the next morning with two coffees in hand.

DoRe was still quiet in their private messages, despite her activity elsewhere. Despite the admittedly desperate-sounding messages she’d left. It took everything not to stay home and mope, but she told herself that she had lost friends before. They had a wonderful companionship, but she disappeared without a word. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that she had been blinded by the sweet words and the expectations she had built up around this faceless name. Like they were never close at all, and that she’d simply, in her loneliness, dreamt it all up.

With little to lose, she drove herself out of bed and marched to a nearby coffee shop and ordered Yongsun’s usual, hoping it had not changed since her trainee days of fetching coffee and running photocopies. She was determined to try and make things right with at least one woman in her life.

Yongsun was already in her office when she arrived thirty minutes early. Byulyi stood in front of the door, palms slick under the cardboard tray. Her heart rushed quick breaths from her lungs and the rest of her body seemed ready to raise the white flag and betray her altogether. Her mind strayed briefly to a vision of her fictional Wheein, quivering before Hyejin’s door for the first time for her interview. She made a mental note of these intense nerves for the next time she had to write a scene like this.

The minor distraction was just what she needed to in her courage: her knuckles rapped against the cool wooden door.

“Come in.”

Byulyi turned the knob and nudged through, just enough to poke her head inside and catch the slight movement of Yongsun’s jaw muscle. With her lips set tight and her eyes dull in the morning sun, her expression was unreadable.

“Byulyissi,” she said, knitting her fingers together over her desk, “you’re early today.”

While her signature smile was nowhere to be found, Byulyi was relieved to see that the flames of yesterday’s argument were also absent. She looked tired, but not angry. Not upset. Not happy. From the slight sag of her shoulders and the slight tension in her brows—she was, if anything, resigned.

Byulyi bowed and took a tentative step further into the room. “Manager,” she greeted, cringing when her voice squeaked out her twisted nerves. “I...I bought coffee. For you. For yesterday. I’m sorry about yesterday and...everything else.”

Yongsun’s eyes widened, but still the smile did not surface. Byulyi ducked her head, hoping she wouldn’t hear the fear and disappointment swirling inside, and quickly shuffled the two steps forward to place the large cup of coffee on the corner of her desk. She bowed once more, then retreated to the door.

Just as she was about to slip out the crack in the door, she heard her name. She stopped at the door and bowed once more, and when she looked up, she saw, a pink blush spread across Yongsun’s cheeks and blend into her hair as her manager mumbled her thanks. The moment was surreal, and Byulyi would’ve dismissed it as a trick of her saturated imaginations if Yongsun hadn’t averted her eyes and spun her chair around, her fingers just visible as they trembled on the armrest.

Against the will of her conscious mind, Byulyi spent the rest of the afternoon and late into the evening replaying the moment. By the time the sun set over the city skyline, the impossibility of the scene convinced her that she was simply wishful after DoRe’s disappearance. She tried to distract herself with visions of her story, of the new interviews and performances and the pictures awaiting her at home, but she simply sat at her computer, mechanically pushing all the right buttons, and replayed the scene in the office. Not even 2YoungGirls could fill this mysterious void, and the realization sent her spiralling into a new depth of emptiness.

When several of the new recruits invited her out for drinks, she jumped at the chance to let loose and forget. She never liked the way alcohol made her feel in public, but these younger girls’ eyes were warm, and the liquid confidence was an attractive idea. Of course, she hadn’t planned on Yongsun tagging along.

On her way to the bar, she nearly fainted when Yongsun’s hand brushed hers when she slid out from behind her to join the group in front. She could’ve sworn her fingers had flexed and she had lifted them to her heart in the moments that followed, but Byulyi resisted the sigh, reeled back her thoughts, and turned to the girl preening for her attention beside her. She could’ve sworn Yongsun had tilted her head back ever so slightly with a glare that seemed to pierce the girl’s heart.

Get out of my head, Byulyi thought sullenly.

The evening was a failure. How could she expect to drink her worries away when the object of her worry sat across from her, watching and listening? It tortured Byulyi in a way that shouldn't to watch her respond in such an animated way to everyone except her.

But there was something odd about Yongsun. Something in the way she would stiffen up when she caught her eye, or the way she’d narrow her eyes when Byulyi spoke to the girls around her. Or maybe there was something odd about her and her wild imagination.

It wasn’t long before she excused herself under the pretence of fatigue and found herself once more underneath the lamplight with 2YoungGirls playing in the background, and the bright white light of her document in the foreground.

The first two nights in the hotel with her boss is pure torture. Wheein doesn’t think it can get any worse when she finds her sitting across from her on her bed, both in nothing but bathrobes as they discuss their plans for the next day. It takes everything in her power to leave Hyejin’s exposed skin in her peripheral while she concentrates on the digital spreadsheet in her lap.

“Is there anything you want to see?” Hyejin says, her voice coming out as a low purr. Wheein snaps her head up, her heart beating wildly when she thinks that Hyejin has somehow read her thoughts. Surely, that would be too good to be true.

“Sorry, what?” Wheein asks with wide eyes.

Hyejin sighs. “Get your head out of the gutter, Wheeinssi,” she mutters, pulling her robe just a little tighter for a moment. She looks pink, and Wheein can’t tell if she always looked so pink, or if she is, much to her joy, blushing.

Even so, Wheein feels the need to defend her own honor. “I wasn’t thinking anything,” she lies matter-of-factly. “I just didn’t hear you.”

“I asked if there is anything you wanted to see. The sights and all, seeing as you seemed so excited to be here. I have no preference myself, but I thought it might be refreshing to see Tokyo through your eyes for a while.”

Byulyi closed her eyes for a moment, and wondered where she could possibly go with this fanciful narrative. She had envisioned a grand trip full of sights and food and warm little moments where their relationship will stretch and grow into something tangible. She wanted this for Hyejin and Wheein so badly, while she stayed tucked inside her empty nest of reality. But she drew a blank.

Several clipped sentences and rushed paragraphs about her surface knowledge of Tokyo later, Byulyi leapt forward and dove deep into her wired midnight brain for the perfect scene.

Wheein is standing at the helm of the boat while they bobbed along Tokyo Bay. She looks out across the sea, and the radiant sun dancing above the water. Hyejin, standing the front of the boat with her back to her, is surrounded by the pink-orange glow. The wind plays with her hair like it’s their sole purpose on earth, and Wheein is mesmerized.

“You’re staring again, aren’t you?” Hyejin says, her voice so soft it’s barely audible over the gentle waves. “You’re always staring.”

Wheein swallows. She can’t tell what Hyejin is thinking. Her shoulders, usually held back as confidently as a soldier’s, are tense. She turns to Wheein with a small smile, uncertainty swirling in her chocolate orbs. Before she knows it, she feels her body moving. Her feet crosses the short deck and goes to stand beside Hyejin, and it feels like all she can do is helplessly watch the scene unfold in third person.

She doesn’t understand where her courage comes from, and she doesn’t think about it when she brushes her fingers along the side of Hyejin’s jaw. “You are beautiful,” she says in a soft, tender whisper. “I can’t stop staring when you’re so beautiful all the time.”

“Wheein…”

“Hyejin…”

Neither can tell who initiated the kiss, but it is everything they ever dreamed of. Slow. Careful. Sweet. The world around them slips away, and it is like they’re the only two people in the world. The sun sets behind them, while fireworks bloom behind their eyelids.

Byulyi sighed and rubbed her eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “This is too much,” she said, glaring at her own words as if she could telepathically forge them into something less offensive. Five minutes and a raging emotional debate later, she gave up and left the words as they were. Wheein and Hyejin deserved to have fireworks bloom behind their eyelids, she told herself.

Wheein’s hands wind around Hyejin’s waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Suddenly, she feels something warm seeking its way between her lips, tentatively asking for permission. She doesn’t hesitate, welcoming her with a low moan, when Hyejin pushes her tongue inside and asserts dominance in her space.

“What is wrong with me?” Byulyi glowered at her glowing screen. With her hands on either side of her device, she shook it vigorously, crying,“Why does every scene turn into some ty set-up? Am I seriously that frustrated?”

She rolled up her sleeves, determined to set things right for Wheein and Hyejin.

They made love on the deck, long after the sun had set. Wheein lays her head on the crook of Hyejin’s neck, and they talk all through the night. They talk about their plans for the week. They talk about their plans for the future. Neither can tell how many of their dreams will come true, but the sparkle of starlight gives them hope.

Japan is full of romantic nights and whispered promises. Private eyes between business meetings, standing just a little too close in front of their clients, little brushes here and there. It was exhilarating.

But the trip had to end. As their departure date nears, Hyejin distances herself. Wheein tries and tries, but by the last day, she can barely  squeeze out a smile.

The flight back is too long, and that night in Wheein’s lonely apartment, her bed is too cold. She worries about going to work the next day.

Hyejin hasn’t called. Wheein stays up all night, wondering if it was all a dream.

The next morning, her doorbell rings, and Wheein rushes out, half dressed under her robe. She throws open the door without ceremony, and gasps when she is met face to face with a pair of sunglasses and a suit. It’s Hyejin’s chauffeur.

“Wheeinssi,” he says gravely, his stiff arms extending a letter toward her. “I am under orders to give this to you from Miss Ahn.”

“What is this?” Wheein says with a frown.

“As of today, your services are no longer required by Miss Ahn. Miss Ahn has enclosed the remainder of your salary with your letter of resignation.”

“What?” Wheein yells. “She’s firing me? Why?!”

The chauffeur looks up from his sunglasses, and gives her a vague look. “You know why, Wheeinssi.”

“Are you kidding me? No! I don’t want this,” she cries.  She throws the letter back at the man, where it bounces off his chest and lands on the floor. A cheque slips out, the amount far more than she is worth. “What is this? I don’t want this.”

She is a mess of tears by the time she picks up the envelope again.

The chauffeur squeezes her shoulder affectionately, but she smacks his hand away. “I’m sorry, Wheeinssi,” he says awkwardly. “I didn’t realize your job meant so much to you.”

Wheein sobs.

He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes flitting around at everything but the crying girl. “I am also under orders to tell you to get ready by 7pm today. You are to wear a dress.”

By the time the words sink in, he is gone.

Wheein stands shivering underneath her light coat, even though the night is warm. Her eyes are still red, and her heart is still a mess, and no amount of make-up seemed to be able to cover it up. A familiar black car pulls up. It’s sleek underneath the lamplight.

The chauffeur steps out with a smile, and rounds the car to open the door for her.

“Where are we going?” Wheein asks. is hoarse from crying, and her voice is rough from disuse.

“You’ll see,” he says with a wink.

Wheein stares out the window throughout the ride, and watches as the apartments transform into houses, and as the houses get bigger and bigger, more and more modern. They pull up to a secluded restaurant in a quiet, wealthy neighbourhood.

The chauffeur opens her door, and lends her an elbow. She takes it, and allows herself to be led inside. The restaurant is dimly lit, as if they’d spent all the money on the beautiful decor and left virtually nothing for lighting. Its patrons are all well dressed, and the chauffeur, in his painstakingly ironed black slacks and suit, stops short at the threshold. When the maitre d’ takes her coat and leads her further inside, she feels and underdressed in her white dress lined with lace. People are looking, and she isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing.

She slips inside a secluded booth, and she finds herself alone. She fiddles with the utensils and gawks at the prices on the drink menu.

Five minutes, later, someone joins her. She looks up from her fidgeting hands to meet the smouldering gaze of the woman who had just broken her heart hours before. She looks gorgeous in a fitted black suit jacket. Her top, as usual, is far too low for Wheein to concentrate. Just for a moment, she almost forgives her.

“You look beautiful,” came the familiar voice.

Wheein struggles to find her voice. “Why did you bring me here?” she says.

A folder slides across the table, and bumps against Wheein’s elbow. “I heard this morning that you were quite distraught about losing your position, so I’ve arranged for your transfer to a different company. They’re a personal friend of mine, and I think they’ll treat you well. I’ve negotiated your salary and your duties to be relatively the same, and—”

Wheein shoots up from her seat and slams a fist down on the table, drawing attention from the tables around them. “I don’t care about the stupid job, Hyejin, I care about you!” She yells. Hyejin looks around, wide-eyed, and pulls at her wrist to try and get her to sit down.

“I don’t care if people are watching,” Wheein said, her voice quivering with quiet rage. Her fists clench tightly by her sides as she glares at the raven-haired woman with watery eyes. “I don’t care about this stupid job. I don’t care about your money. I do care about the fact that my feelings for  you are growing out of control and all you want to do is cut me out of your goddamn life!”

The world seemed to stand still while Hyejin gazes up onto Wheein’s fiery eyes. The silence stretches on, long enough for many people to lose interest while Wheein waited for Hyejin to say something.

“I love you, Jung Wheein. I thought you knew that.”

Wheein’s eyes widens, and her heart races. Slowly, she sits back down. “What?”

“I love you,” Hyejin repeats with a quirked brow. “I thought we talked about this.”

“No!”

“Well, I do,” she says with a sheepish shrug.

Wheein gapes. “I can’t read your mind, Hyejin. What am I supposed to think when you suddenly fire me then tell me you’re transferring me?!”  

Hyejin glances at her, her lips presses into a tight smile. “We can’t work together and be together, you know. I thought it was obvious.”

Wheein pinches the bridge of her nose. “How did I fall for such a selfish idiot?” she mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Hyejin says softly, reaching across the table to hold her hand, “I know I can be selfish sometimes. I know I can be a little demanding, and a little stubborn about getting things done my way. But, believe me, Japan changed my life too. I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but…” Something cool is pressed into Wheein’s hand. “I really want this to work out. I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t want to let you go.”

Wheein’s fingers spread open like a flower, and, in the centre, lying in her palm, is a silver house key.

Byulyi spent the rest of that night constructing the road to a domestic paradise. A cat, a house, a car, and love all round. Long after the sun had risen, she continued to type. Her frazzled mind was  dug deep into the far recesses of her desires, dusted them off, and threw them over those who deserved them more than she did. She wrote until she didn’t feel like writing anymore, when her world began to stale at her fingertips, and real life stared at her through bleary eyes. She read over her shoddy sentences and all the times her intentions never quite flourished with execution. Meanwhile her phone laid silently beside her, charging away at its full battery.

Her story was posted anyway at a quarter to seven. It was out in the world as she got ready for work, replacing her rumpled blazer with a slightly less rumpled one. As she fixed herself a breakfast of black coffee and stale bread, she wondered what DoRe would think. She wondered whether she’d read it at all. She wondered whether Yongsun would ever smile at her again.  

As she stood at the bus stop, she wondered whether she could serendipitously meet someone new. Someone who could sweep her into a new arc in her own story. Maybe someone beside her would catch her rewatching old 2YoungGirls’ videos. She would be horrified at first, but they would look at her kindly, and say they understood. They would talk about their favourite moments, their favourite songs, then they’d dive deeper, investigate the rich breadth of Wheein and Hyejin’s relationship. A beautiful friendship would bloom on their daily commute. The friendship would blossom into something more. They’d be the first one in line when 2YoungGirls finally held their first concert, holding hands, giggling with nervous anticipation. Maybe they’d even skip work and go to fan meetings together.

Still, she could not resist picking up Yongsun’s usual drink for her. She may not have been angry, Byulyi told herself as she handed over a crumpled bill, but it never hurt to try and strike a truce with your manager. The two drinks didn’t feel so heavy this time. Not while she dreamt about her new narrative. Maybe the next time she went to a coffee shop, she’d be buying coffee for her love while they waited in the crowd to cheer 2YoungGirls on.

By the time she reached the office, she felt far lighter than she had in days. She handed off Yongsun’s coffee to a coworker and asked him to deliver it to her anonymously. Her private truce burned a little from her fingers to his, but she felt lighter still when she sank into her chair for the day. She even smiled as she arranged her desk and made her checklist, determined to finish her work early and give herself a well-deserved night’s rest.

Her phone exploded with accolades for her new story, but none from the person she was looking for. She silenced her phone and tucked it inside her pocket.

Her day drew on smoothly. Even the water cooler banter with her coworkers in her exhaustive state failed to dim her mood. They talked, joked, and it was almost nice to live outside of her own mind once in awhile and jump into the lives of other human beings. Yongsun stayed inside her office, leaving in the early afternoon to return in the evening, though she did not so much as look in Byulyi’s direction.

It was only as she was packing up to go home, eager to finally rest her head on a pillow, that the day took a turn. She swung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped out of the cubicle, but stopped when she looked up to see Yongsun, standing in front of her door, arms crossed over her chest, her gaze blazing along the carpet between them. A finger beckoned Byulyi closer, then disappeared behind the door. Her heart caught in , while her eyes wildly surveyed the almost empty room.

The mirage of her happy fangirl life fell like petals with each step she took toward her manager’s door. Her mind ran in all directions, trying to piece together the implications of meeting so secretly. Surely, she thought numbly, nothing good could come out of this. She was behind on her deadlines, and her work had admittedly been sloppier during 2YoungGirls’ promotional period, but was it enough to lose her position? She hoped it was just a warning, even though she was running on the fumes of second chances. It wouldn’t be too late to run home from here, then spend the rest of her life wondering what Yongsun could’ve wanted.

She shook her head and pushed through the door. Her breath caught when Yongsun turned to face her from where she stood, her hands knit in front of her, the twinkling city skyline behind her back. Byulyi, unable to hold her eyes, glanced down at her own shoes.

“Close the door behind you,” Yongsun said, her tone lending a familiar warmth to Byulyi’s skin.

Byulyi bowed and did as she was told. “You wanted to see me, Manager?”

Yongsun’s attention was back on the window. “Byulyissi,” she said slowly. Byulyi straightened her back and looked over at the building across to avoid staring at her silhouette, but the sound of her name on Yongsun’s lips always drove a shiver into her bones. “If you want to make amends by buying me a coffee, I would suggest delivering it to me in person next time.”  

Byulyi bowed, mumbling her apologies. “I’ll deliver it myself tomorrow,” she said, in hopes that there would be a tomorrow. She didn’t dare look up.

She heard a sigh, then the brief clack of heels on hardwood as Yongsun stepped in front of her desk. “Second thing,” she said sharply, “look at me.”

Byulyi snapped her head up, nearly losing her balance when Yongsun stood, leaning on her desk, a mere distance from where Byulyi stood. “Second thing,” Yongsun repeated, touching Byulyi’s elbow lightly, “you’ve been ignoring my messages all day.”

Byulyi blinked.

Yongsun, with her cheeks tinged pink and a weak smile quivering on her lips, was no longer the stern authority figure just moments ago. “I-I’m sorry?” Byulyi squeaked.

Yongsun flipped her wave of pink hair over her shoulder, and held up a phone.

Byulyi stared.

Yongsun gently waved the phone in her hand with a quirked brow.

Byulyi opened slowly.

“Take out your phone, Byul,” Yongsun cut in. The terse command sent Byulyi fumbling into her pockets. She dug into each one, frantically turning her pockets inside out when they came up empty.

“It’s in your jacket, Byul. I see it,” Yongsun sighed.

Her phone instantly fell out of her pocket with a graceful slam. “Oh god, not again,” Byulyi mumbled, scrambling to pick it back up. She turned the device over and squinted past the spider web pattern, now extending the entirety of her screen.

@DoReWheeFa: You’re always staring, aren’t you?

“You’re always staring, Moonstar.”

Byulyi’s heart pounded, slowly and steadily. She could hear nothing else when her gaze traveled up from her screen, and into Yongsun’s smiling eyes.

“You ruined the surprise,” she said, with a chuckle. “I messaged you and told you to look up four times today, you know. Now it’ll just look silly when you can finally see through that screen of yours. For someone so clever, you can be kind of slow sometimes.”

“Y-you’re…b-but I...I told you everything,” Byulyi gasped. She ran a hand over her face, hoping the contact would wake her from this lucid dream. But Yongsun was still there, her smile bright enough to illuminate the night sky. Smiling like she knew all her secrets.

And she did.

Byulyi’s cheeks were on fire. “How long have you known?” she whispered.

“Ever since you told me your manager caught you on your phone,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “I...I’m sorry I disappeared, Byulyi. I just...when I found out, I guess I didn’t really know what to do.”

Byulyi clenched her fists at her side, her head buzzing. “I should go,” she said with a stiff bow. “Have a good night, Manager.”

“Byul—wait! Hey—!” Yongsun leapt forward, and clamped down on Byulyi’s wrist. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Just...don’t go.”

Byulyi turned to her, blood pumping, emotions mixing, pain, anger, and shame indiscernible. “I...you,” she spluttered, “you know...everything.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yongsun said softly, her grip tight around Byulyi. “If I had known, I would’ve told you sooner. I wouldn’t have...let it develop.”

“Let what develop?” Byulyi said sharply. “It was just a stupid crush. It’s nothing. Don’t concern yourself. I don’t want to put you in a hard place, Manager. Like you said, wouldn’t want 2YoungGirls to feel bad if a fan lost their job over them.”

“I hated your stupid crush,” Yongsun said, eyes mirroring Byulyi’s fire. “I hated that you kept going on about your stupid boss even though I was right there. She was everything you ever wanted. This...ethereal beauty that you knew nothing about, but worshipped nonetheless. She was your flesh and blood 2YoungGirls! How was I supposed to compete with that? I was just this woman you met online who...listened. I guess. I’m not...some ethereal beauty. And I didn’t want you to know that.” Byulyi softened. Yongsun dropped her hand and turned away. “And you, working with you wasn’t any better. When I heard from the others that you liked 2YoungGirls, I wanted so badly to be your friend, but...I’m your manager. Sometimes I’d catch you staring and I thought you might want to be my friend too, maybe even more, but as your superior, it was just...wrong. If I’d known, I guess I...maybe I would’ve run away sooner. Even if I didn’t want to.”

She walked over to the other side of her desk, and dropped into her chair. Byulyi followed, leaning on the corner of her desk. She wanted nothing more than to reach over and ease the wrinkles between Yongsun’s brows, to tuck her hair behind her ears and tell her everything was going to be alright. But Yongsun continued, her expression personifying the exact feelings that knocked at her chest just minutes before: “When I found out that you were talking about me this whole time, I didn’t know what to think. Whatever image you had of me as your boss...she and I are two different people. I didn’t think I could live up to it. I’m...I’m transferring tomorrow. Whether you feel the same way or not. It’s just too much, I think, to work beside you and know that I couldn’t—”

Byulyi leaned forward, planted both hands on the armrests, and caught the insecurities between her lips. She heard a muffled gasp, then felt the muscles and the air between them, relax. Soft fingers combed her hair and ran along her jaw. The low hum of traffic outside fell away. The skyscrapers flickered like their personal chandelier. Byulyi smiled into the kiss when she pictured the fireworks behind her eyelids.

Something pressed into her chest then, reluctantly breaking the kiss. Byulyi looked down into Yongsun’s watery brown eyes. “Byul—”

“Yongsun,” Byul said, nervously foregoing all honorifics, “I’m...glad. I’m really happy actually, and relieved that you’re transferring.” She smiled sheepishly when surprise and hurt flickered across Yongsun’s face, and reached up to caress her pink cheeks with her thumb. “It could get complicated if I asked you to be my girlfriend.”  

 

4

A year later, Byulyi found herself running across the street, two iced coffees in a tray, and a fleet of car horns adding to the white noise around her. The afternoon sun burned down her back as she approached the impressive crowd outside circular building. This was it: Olympic Hall.

“Byul-ah! Over here!”

She veered her head behind her just in time to catch the quick kiss on the lips. When she pulled away, she was met with a wide, dimpled grin. “They’re going to open the doors soon. Let’s hurry,” Yongsun said, taking the tray of coffee in one hand, and Byulyi’s hand in the other.

“It’s only one o’clock,” Byulyi sighed. “The concert’s in five hours.”

“We have to buy merch!” Yongsun said, marching forward toward the building. “I want everything!”

“Unnie, we can’t afford everything,” Byulyi said, biting back the slowly forming smile. “I love 2YoungGirls as much as you, but we have a puppy to think about too.”

They joined the growing line outside. While Yongsun excitedly went on about 2YoungGirls’ new merchandise, Byulyi dug into her bag and pulled a baseball cap out. “Don’t get a heat ,” she said, pulling the hat over Yongsun’s head. “Anyway, let’s limit ourselves to a hundred thousand won. We shouldn’t buy too much, or Daebakkie will have to eat rice for a week.”

A pout quickly formed from underneath the brim of her hat. “Five hundred thousand.” Byulyi almost chuckled when she thought back to this woman as her superior, authoritative and commanding. Nevertheless, it was impossible to resist those warm, pleading eyes, regardless of how stern they had been a year ago.

Byulyi crossed her arm. “That’s a big leap, unnie.”

“It’s 2YoungGirls’ first concert! That much is to be expected!” She clawed at Byulyi’s shirt, cheeks puffed and pink. “Pleeeeeeeease, Byuliiiiie.”

Byulyi sighed, like she had done hundreds of times before, and was instantly met with a bright, victorious grin. “It’s a good thing I got that raise then, huh?”

Yongsun cheered and reached up for a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, you know that?”

Byulyi laughed as she took Yongsun’s hand once more. “I love you more.”

Yongsun scoffed. “I don’t know about that.”

“I love you more than 2YoungGirls,” Byulyi said solemnly, raising their joined hands to her lips for a kiss.

Yongsun pulled back, suddenly serious. “I don’t know if I love you more than 2YoungGirls.”

“Unnie!”

“I’m kidding, Byulyi, I love you. Enough to have a house and a dog with you, if you can believe it or not.”

Byulyi grinned. She reached for a kiss, but the brims of their caps collided, knocking her head back and sending her own cap flying. Yongsun exploded into laughter, drawing the attention of several onlookers while Byulyi chased after her runaway hat. When she made her way back, they were both grinning like fools. Despite the prying eyes and the slight embarrassment, she could not resist the pure joy dancing on Yongsun’s face when she pulled her hat backwards over her head, and closed in once more. There, underneath the banner of 2YoungGirls, surrounded by the roar of fans like them, they shared one of many happy kisses that day, with many more to come.

 End
 

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Notes: This was originally going to go into the Songbook, but the word count way exceeded my own expectations. I hope you enjoyed this piece! It was quite the experiement to put myself in two different places. Writing about Byul writing about Wheesa....  Hope you had as much fun as I had!

And as always, comments, subs, and upvotes are very much appreciated!