Seulgi just wants to go home.

There’s music blasting at full volume around her, and the smell of alcohol is pungent in the air, sharp and bitter - much alike the taste in .

Company parties are the worst kind because they’re mandatory and full to the brim of Korea’s stuck up celebrities - a cult of adults who have yet to mature - a crowd she doesn’t want to be a member of.

She doesn’t usually enjoy the taste of alcohol, but Sooyoung’s nowhere to be found, lost in the sea of people she vaguely recognizes, and she doesn’t think she can last long sober.

It doesn’t take long for the room to start blurring and the earsplitting music to shift into a pleasant buzzing that she thinks she can sleep to, but before she can put her head down (just for a little bit, she swears), red hair swoops into her vision and Seulgi can smell perfume that she thinks is familiar.

“How much did you have to drink? Oh my - are you seriously drunk?”

“Youngie, I wanna go home.”

She giggles. Her voice sounds funny, sort of like she’s underwater.

“You lightweight. What do I with you?”

It’s kind of cold, and Sooyoung’s giving off warmth like a heater, which makes sense because her hair is red and heat is red, and she just wants to cuddle against her - so she does.

She feels Sooyoung sigh and mutter something under her breath that Seulgi couldn’t make out if she tried, and then there are fingers running through her hair and Sooyoung’s body pressing closer to her.

Seulgi feels safe like she always does when she’s with Sooyoung.

“Hello? You weren’t sleeping were you, Unnie? Good. Because your girlfriend’s wasted right now and I can’t take her home. Yeah, it’s a company party, and I need to stay for a while. Okay. Thanks. It’s the bar near the company, shouldn’t be too far. We’ll be waiting outside. I’ll text you the address.”

She peers up at Sooyoung, trying to put together the one-sided conversation she heard, the word ‘girlfriend’ floating into mind, and she tugs at Sooyoung’s pretty black dress.

“Was that Hyunnie?”

Sooyoung looks down at her and rolls her eyes, handing her a glass of water from the bar.

“Yes, and drink some water, Princess. No need to give her a harder time.”

She takes the glass only because Sooyoung’s being her personal heater, and she thinks she owes her something for that.

“Nope. Drink all of it, Princess.”

“But - .”

“Kang Seulgi.”

Seulgi pouts at her even though she knows it’s completely useless when Sooyoung’s staring her down as if she were a puppy who did something bad, and allows the rest of the water to slide down .

“Alright, let’s get you outside.”

Sooyoung lifts her off the barstool as easily as she would carry a child, and even when alcohol’s still fizzing in her system and toying with her functions, she still feels embarrassment hot inside her stomach.

“I’m not a kid. I can walk by myself.”

Seulgi wrenches out of Sooyoung’s grip with a scowl written across her face, and takes a few steps forward, because she’s not even that drunk, but then the whole world sort of tilts to the left and Sooyoung’s arm is around her waist again and setting the floor back into place.

“Like hell you can. Come on, Princess. Your Aphrodite is waiting for you.”

When they finally make it outside, Seulgi thinks that fresh air is the best thing in the entire world, and no one should be subjected to stuffy clubs when there’s something this good just outside the doors.

Then, she sees the most beautiful woman she’s ever laid eyes on leaning against the surface of a black car, wearing familiar black and white, hands pushed into pockets, and Seulgi thinks she catches a faraway look in her eyes.

“She’s pretty, huh, Youngie? Wow. Maybe she is a - a celebrity.”

Sooyoung’s giant hand settles on her head and pushes her back down onto her heels.

“No, you’re the celebrity, and we’d better get you in that car, fast. Why are there so many people around here, anyway?”

Seulgi’s not sure why that’s such a bad thing (The more the merrier, right?), but she dutifully allows Sooyoung to lead her towards Joohyun and her car. She hopes her cheeks aren’t as red as they feel, because that would be embarrassing.

“Hey, Unnie. Thanks for coming.”

“Is she alright?”

The woman’s leaning closer to her and Seulgi smells sweet vanilla that’s more intoxicating than the all the alcohol she’d consumed earlier (God, how many did she even have?), and she feels like she’s going to pass out.

“Probably not. Seulgi doesn’t like drinking usually, plus she’s a lightweight. Anyway, she should be fine by tomorrow. She doesn’t get hangovers. Oh, and be careful with her, Unnie. She gets talkative and grossly clingy when she’s drunk.”

“No, I don’t!” Seulgi whines.

“Right. Whatever you say, Princess. Anyway, are you going to take her to your house, Unnie?”

“If that’s okay with you. I’d like to keep an eye on her, and it would be easier to take care of her at my house.”

“That’s fine. It’d probably be better that way. Okay, Princess, go to your girlfriend.”

Seulgi feels herself being transported from Sooyoung’s arms to Joohyun’s (her girlfriend’s), so she’s holding onto a silky white blouse instead.

“Good luck, Sooyoung.”

“Thanks again, Unnie. Really. Have fun, you two! But not too much fun!”

The woman’s just an inch shorter than Seulgi is, and she wonders if she’s just that light that even beautiful, petite goddesses can hold her as easily as if she were a pillow.

“Hi, Hyunnie, you’re pretty.”

There’s brief silence, then a light chuckle that vibrates against her arm, and fingers brushing away strands of brown she hadn’t even realized were there, the sweet gestures setting flames up her neck and along her cheeks that she hopes aren’t strong enough to burn.

“Hyunnie, huh? You’re very pretty yourself, Seul. And rather cute when drunk.”

Before she has time to process it, Seulgi’s slumped in the passenger’s seat with Joohyun leaning over her body, the seat belt clasped in hand.

Seulgi wants to hug her. So, she leans up a little bit, wraps her arms around Joohyun’s back and stomach, and rests her head against her ribcage - it’s hard and protrudes too much.

“You smell nice. But you should, uhm, eat more.”

She’s allowed to do this, right? Because she’s her girlfriend, and Seulgi should take care of her like Joohyun does.

Joohyun’s back is rigid against her arm and Seulgi doesn’t think she’s breathing, because her stomach isn’t going up and down like it should be.

“I - I will. I have to drive, so if you would so kind as to let me go?”

Seulgi whines, but she does as she’s told, letting her arms drop so they’re not cocooning Joohyun’s body like a trap, and sinking her head into the cushion of the car seat.

She thinks she prefers Joohyun’s headrest more, even if it’s a little harder and a little less giving.

“Let’s get you home.”

~

Joohyun’s house is the epitome of black and white.

She gets propped gently against the black, wooden wall as the door clicks shut behind them. The older woman is at her feet, fingers wrapped delicately around her ankle as she takes her heels off and places her bare feet onto black and white marble tiles.

“Your ankles are the size of my wrists,” Joohyun mumbles. “And you tell me I should eat more.”

Seulgi can’t stop the giggle from escaping her lungs, resting her temple against the wood because she’s still sort of dizzy, though she doesn’t feel like throwing up anytime soon - thankfully.

“I guess I’m a hypocrite.”

Only when there’s alcohol running through her system does her tongue become loose and words flow freely like a broken dam. She’s never quite understood why.

Before she knows it, she’s being towed into Joohyun’s apartment the same way she had been led into Mr. Choi’s restaurant on their “first date” - a little protective, plenty gentle.

The furniture, the walls, floor and ceiling, all conform to Joohyun’s color scheme in a drastic fashion. It’s aesthetic, and the apartment clearly lounges high on the spectrum of price and luxury.

The details pierce through the haze of alcohol and cling to Seulgi’s vague logic that Joohyun is no amateur artist - if she is an artist at all.

“Stay here for just a while. I’ll be right back.”

The white leather of the couch, though initially cool, almost instantly warms against her skin as if it senses her presence, and Seulgi blinks blearily at Joohyun’s moving figure in the distance.

Her fingers habitually begin to play with the fabric of her dress (most of the time she isn’t even aware she’s doing it), a habit even she’s not sure where or when it began, but one she can’t seem to put on pause - like a song put on replay on a stereo with a broken remote.

The ritualistic movement calms her during stressful times, so it’s not completely useless.

Joohyun’s taking a seat beside her and placing a glass of water on the coffee table, looking at her like she’s the only one in the world that matters with eyes of never ending black.

“Are you still feeling alright?”

It’s not an answer that she returns, but a question that she doesn’t quite regret by the time she realizes what she’d said.

“Why is everything black and white?”

She sounds like someone who’d opened their eyes and realized that the world had lost its color.

Seulgi wonders if she’s enough of a coward for it to take liquid courage streaming through her bloodstream to ask a question like this.

Limbs snap into rigid attention and she can see muscles tighten in Joohyun’s arms, the tension palpable in the air so the mystery starts to thicken.

She would have stopped then, never one to pry, but the gears in her brain still aren’t up to speed and the words keep tumbling out before she can taste them and decide whether they’re okay or not.

“Your clothes, your car, your house. They’re all black and white. Why?”

Joohyun’s eyes don’t leave her’s for a second, even when there’s shock coloring their edges and eyelashes fluttering against cheekbones.

Seulgi wants to comfort her and tell her that she can confide in her with anything, even if it’s her deepest, darkest secret, because she’s already too lost in Joohyun’s mystery maze.

She scoots closer to the frozen figure and extends a hand so they brush against white knuckles.

Quiet, confident Joohyun doesn’t look scared.

She looks terrified.

She decides that if she wants Joohyun to open up, it’s only fair if she does it first.

“No one’s ever treated me the way you do.”

She wants to look away so her heart won’t be so blindingly bare for Joohyun to see and feel and judge, but she won’t because she needs this. They both do.

“No one’s ever treated me like I could be normal, like I could be less than perfect, like I could be broken. No one’s ever treated me like I could be a human being, but you make me feel like I am.”

There are emotions bubbling in the pit of her stomach that feel all too unfamiliar when they shouldn’t be, and this time, Seulgi doesn’t pull them back like unruly dogs on leashes, but let them run free like wolves on a hunt for something bigger and something better.

“You make me feel like I don’t have to be picture perfect, or slide on a mask so you can’t see the cracks underneath them. I don’t think I can ever find someone like you. And I just want you to know, that I’ll understand you. Whatever it is.”

Joohyun’s impossibly black eyes shimmer in a way that reminds Seulgi of a starry night sky, and there’s a pang in her chest at the realization that she could never make Joohyun look at her like that when she’s sober.

The curled fist and snow white knuckles gradually lose their tension like a slackening rope, but Joohyun looks away as if scathed. Seulgi only finds comfort in the fact that she doesn’t pull away from her touch.

“Seulgi, I don’t know if I can - .”

Seulgi doesn’t have the steady confidence Joohyun does and she knows she’s reaching her limit, even when under the influence, and she’s suddenly desperate.

“Joohyun, please.”

It’s clear that Joohyun isn’t ready to hack away the lock on iron doors just yet, features softening into an expression of apology.

“This isn’t a conversation we should be having when you are inebriated. Tomorrow morning. I will tell you what you need to know. I promise.”

~

When Seulgi wakes up, she thinks she’s gone colorblind.

The ceiling is black and white tiles of marble, and once she’s oriented enough to sit up, it’s clear that everything around her lacks any sort of color.

Right, she’s at Joohyun’s house.

Seulgi isn’t the type to drink and forget, and more often than not, her memory is crystal clear the morning after despite having been blackout drunk the night before.

It’s both a blessing and a curse.

“Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Seulgi’s startled to hear Joohyun’s voice so tentative and trembling around the edges - an uncertainty that doesn’t quite match with her confident persona.

It’s unsettling and she wants to fix that.

“I’m okay. I don’t get hangovers.”

Joohyun’s leaning against the doorway with a steaming mug in hand, dressed in an oversized sweater and loose sweatpants, white and black respectively - and hell if she isn’t the most attractive thing in the world right now.

The pensiveness that had been tightening the corners of her lips and the creases of her eyes soften (though they don’t quite disappear), a small smile scribbling its way across her lips.

“I heard.”

There’s silence again, but the newfound vulnerability in pools of black remind her of her drunken spiel of yesterday.

“I remember. Everything I said,” Seulgi begins. She pauses when Joohyun jerks as if she’d been electrocuted, only just managing to keep the contents of her mug in its place, and continues when she looks back at Seulgi with the widest of eyes. “I meant all of it. Just wanted you to know.”

She’s suddenly more confident with the older woman now that she can see the hints of cracks beneath a seemingly flawless surface, so she at least doesn’t stutter like a child with stage fright and settles back into her routine caveman staccato for speech.

Seulgi isn’t sure what to do when Joohyun’s blinking at her owlishly.

Her eyes are still intimidating and she can’t keep a proper hold on her confidence for long if Joohyun keeps this up.

“I - Thank you. Is it okay if I . . . ?”

Joohyun gestures to the bed and Seulgi shifts to make room in quiet response.

She feels the dip in the bed, so light that Seulgi finds concern for Joohyun’s weight wriggling in the back of her mind once more, and settles patiently for an explanation.

If there’s one skill she excels in, it’s patience.

“I promised to tell you what you need to know.”

Joohyun’s eyes rest on anything that isn’t Seulgi, hopping from one point in the room to the next as if she’s running away from something.

It prods Seulgi in the chest, aching for her to do something (Anything, because how many times has Joohyun been there for her? From the very beginning?) so she inches forward to offer a steady hand over nostalgically white knuckles.

Joohyun’s reaction is instantaneous, melting like butter underneath her touch, and she hears air coiling out from clearly deprived lungs.

“It’s okay. I’ll listen and I’ll understand.”

Eventually, Seulgi’s looking into clear orbs of midnight sky instead of thick lashes that serve for makeshift clouds.

There’s fear and uncertainty raw and real in Joohyun’s gaze, so much so that it takes the oxygen straight out of her system.

The mystery isn’t there at all.

“Color in this world does not have the same meaning for me as it does for others. I find peace in black and white and I have an unhealthy obsession for it.”

Seulgi can feel the tremors wracking Joohyun’s body beneath her grip, and she doesn’t dare let go.

“PTSD, OCD. Diagnosed, but never treated because I could not bring up the courage to - to admit that I was broken - am broken. It is solely when I am creating art that I can stand color.”

There’s fear etched in deep caverns in the rise and fall of Joohyun’s voice, and they drive straight and true into Seulgi’s chest.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’m sorry for leading you to think that - .”

Seulgi’s quick to interject, tightening her grip on Joohyun - to let her know that she won’t let go.

“You didn’t lead me on. You shouldn’t be forced. To say anything you’re not comfortable with. It’s just another part of you. I said I’d understand. I understand.”

She’s proud of the words that flow steadily when it matters most, scanning Joohyun for any signs of turmoil.

She finds relief instead, shoulders inching down from a soldier-like posture, eyes flickering with shocked uncertainty, then acceptance.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

There are no questions.

~

Yeri just wants to be normal.

She’s sitting through another meeting in a room that reeks of men’s cologne and shoe polish, smells that she’s learned to get used to over time.

She hates all of it.

Her seat is at the head of the table, posture the mirror image of her mother’s (she’s filling in for her afterall), expression stonily silent.

The men give her furtive glances as they take turns reporting the company’s affairs, and if Yeri wasn’t so tired of it all, she’d find it comical - middle-aged men dancing around an eighteen-year-old girl on her last leg of high school.

When the fourth man begins rattling off numbers like an auctioneer, she allows her thoughts wander to more pressing matters.

“Does she know anything, Unnie?”

“No, but - .”

“But nothing, Unnie! You cannot possibly be serious about this. Mother would - .”

“Bae Yerim. I will work it out one way or another. I promise. Seulgi, she’s . . . different. I don’t want to lose her.”

Yeri drums her fingers against polished mahogany, blinking away memory reels at a wary voice.

“Ms. Kim Yeri?”

Kim Yeri. Not Bae Yerim. Right.

“Yes?”

“Are we dismissed?”

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you for your hard work.”

She stands as protocol, brushing down her uniform black skirt and white blouse, and inclines her head as a form of respect, which the men return before exiting the room.

7:43 p.m.

Once the door closes behind the last man, she collapses against black leather and soft cushion.

She’s given barely two minutes to rest before her phone begins to vibrate in her purse, unclasping the buckle and answering the call.

“The meeting just ended, Mother.”

“Good. You may go home now. I expect to see you studying when I return.”

“Of course, Mother.”

The call ends just like that.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, a brief twinge that she’s learned to ignore and deal with.

She has several people to blame for her position in life, but one person that would take the brunt of the accusation.

The one person she cares the most for.

Afterall, Bae Joohyun should have been the heir to the throne of Star Agency.

~

A/N: The truth is out! Well, some of it, at the least. Thank you for your continuous support! Your comments truly drive me to complete that last leg for each chapter. If you are enjoying this story so far, please leave behind a comment and upvote. I really appreciate them. Silent readers are appreciated also. Until next time!