“What is this, Jeongyeon?”

Jeongyeon flinches at the sound of the magazines smacking against the glass of their coffee table, at the pictures she sees plastered on every page, at the way Nayeon looks at her, smaller than ever.

“Nayeon, it's not what you think-” Jeongyeon tries, but Nayeon only laughs.

“It's exactly what I think!” Nayeon exclaims, jabbing a finger into Jeongyeon’s chest. “I asked for one thing, Jeongyeon. Not Mina. Anyone but Mina.”

“It’s just because of the movie,” Jeongyeon reasons weakly, but they both know better. They've always known better.

“Bull,” Nayeon spits out. “Nothing but bull.”