i walk on the moon in the air

Seulgi collapses onto the cold hard floor after an intense four hours of rehearsing for the end of year stages. It's exceptionally tiring and hard to fill in for a member, Yeri, who'd be skipping out on the ceremonies because of injuries and stuff.

It happened exactly three nights ago, and Seulgi still feels an overwhelming sense of regret and guilt whenever she goes back to the dorm and sees Yeri with an icepack on her left eye, accompanied with bruises on her left and right knee.

Or maybe it was better if she was the one who suffered the noticeable injuries instead.

She's just glad that the new broke out peacefully; those unlikely to hit the front page of websites and newspapers. That way people would worry less, and doesn't add on to her collection of burdens because that means she'd have to act as if she's okay when in actual fact, she really isn't.

If she hadn't requested to watch a movie that night, maybe the whole drama wouldn't have occurred.

The movie also wasn't that good anyway.

It's almost that time of the year. Seulgi has a list of collaboration items she has to choreograph and be part of. And it certainly did not help when her schedule for the coming month of November consists of television recordings, internal training and pre-booked appointments. 

She sits up, rubbing her swollen ankles tenderly with one hand and scrolling her mobile device with another.

Seungwan comes into the room after vocal practice, holding two cups of water. She passes one of the paper cups to Seulgi and she nods in affirmation and thankfulness, patting the spot next to her.

Seungwan plops down, saying, "So how's your leg?"

She tried to fold the ends of Seulgi's jeans to get a better look, before Seulgi crosses her leg to avoid unnecessary tone of worries from Seungwan. She knows that Seungwan's the type to overreact because of her loud personality, and she isn't going to risk another scolding session from her.

"It's fine," Seulgi replies, fiddling with her fingers. "I'll just apply some medication when I'm done with practice."

Seungwan sighs, running a hand through her hair. "The company should've given you more leaves. Yeri has her break all the way till next year while you? Two nights. Really?"

She huffs, folding her arms across her chest.

Seulgi chuckles. "That's because Yeri had it worse than me. Also, if I rest till next year, what will the three of you do? Perform Russian Roulette as a trio? I'd rather not."

Seungwan laughs, rubbing her thumb over Seulgi's knee. It's a little habit of hers that shows she's thankful, especially when she doesn't feel the need to express it in words.

Seungwan's phone buzzes, before she decides she has another schedule to attend to. She bids Seulgi a good bye before gathering her belongings and leaving Seulgi in that empty but familiar practice room.

Seulgi was about to get ready for her next round of individual practice when her phone rings, almost scaring her in the process. She looks at the caller ID, and it isn't a number saved in her phone. She doubts it's a sasaeng as she's pretty closet, and she wonders if she should accept or decline this mysterious number.

Her fingers hover about on the green icon, before she slides it, bringing her phone close to her ear.

Hello? Is this Seulgi? I'm Jaebum, if you remember me.

Her breath hitches. She remembers his voice so clearly that she doesn't need to double check if it's really him and not someone pulling a prank on her or something.

Jaebum-ssi?  How did you get my number? She answers back, astonished.

I got it from Jackson. Jackson got it from Wendy.

She hums as a response, and there's a huge pause from the other line that's making her feel caught up in that silence.

Are you okay?

She lets his question sink in before she feels the lump rising in , and how badly she wants to shout No! because no matter how she sees it, she still feels like it's her fault for causing everything— it being minor or not. She has been thinking about it for the past two nights, thus the reason for her sore eyes from the never ending stream of tears which she always shrug it off the next day, pushing the blame to eating ramyun late in the night.

That was when she figures that this problem has actually been taking a toll on her. It has been buried deep down inside her, pushed to the back of her mind, until Jaebum reminded her.

Whimpering, she struggles not to cry. She takes a long, shuddering breath and blinks rapidly to past the rim of warm wetness threatening to overspill her eyes.

Can we meet?

Here she is, sitting at the very same coffee shop she was at a month ago, staring at his contact for the past ten minutes. She decides to save his contact, feeling a little absurd that he's the only male idol outside of her company that she actually bothers keeping the number.

It's all an unorthodox— she doesn't know what went in her mind when she wanted to meet for no apparent reason, perhaps needing comfort tangentially, and a colossal amount of assurance.

She likes how this coffee house is always empty, as if it was only the two of them that knows about this place—

She is shaken out from her reverie when the chime rings, signalling the movement of the door opening. And there he is, standing at the entrance is Im Jaebum, dressed in a way too oversized t-shirt and leather jacket, ripped jeans with grey timberlands.

It all feels so fami