It is minutes to five in the morning, and Sana is standing at her door, staring at her like a puppy who has spent the entire night walking back home. Jihyo seems to be doing well at hiding her surprise, that is if she was surprised at all.

“What are you doing here?” she responds calmly to Sana’s sheepish greeting.

“Visiting you.”

She’s too calm, too composed for someone who has Sana standing at their door at the crack of dawn. Her friends wind up at her door after partying the night away more often than she likes, and she is used to it, the slurred knocks, the puppy eyes (often drunk), the sheepish greetings, but it’s different this time. Jihyo should be surprised. It’s five in the morning, and Minatozaki Sana, Japan’s sweetheart, Asia’s It girl is standing at her door.

“At 5 a.m?” It seems to be the wrong question to be asking at such a situation, and she wonders if someone has a list of questions to ask to actresses slash singers slash models when they end up at their doors at such an hour.

Sana doesn’t answer, for lack of any appropriate response to such a question. She, herself, doesn’t know.

Jihyo ushers her to get in; it’s cold.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Sana says, eyes fixed on the ground. She hears Jihyo mumble ‘it’s whatever’ through a yawn.

She stands in the middle of Jihyo’s living-room like a sim waiting for instructions.

“Don’t stay standing there,” Jihyo deadpans, tired.

Sana