Lately, I’ve been thinking about two questions:

What do you think about Hani?

and

What do you think about Heeyeon?

Some people would think that it’s the same question. If we’re going to be philosophical, you could say that calling something by another name does not change its nature. You could even bring up the whole “a rose by any other name” pedantic romantic wish-wash.

Maybe that’s true for certain things, but not quite for our lives, for that realm of fantasies we are supposed to provide.

Hani – she’s the fantasy. She’s the glossy hair and circle lenses and seductive smirk, the shapely line of endless legs, gyrating hips and flexing thighs, a coquettish smile and a playful wink, just tantalizing enough to leave you sated but craving for more.

Hani is the viral sensation that started from the oh so famous fancam that, in many ways, we owe everything to. Hani is the one with the full to bursting schedules, who traded her guitar and jazzy vocals for variety appearances and a breathy head voice. Hani is called ty, talentless, fake, the epitome of a y idol and never anything more than that.

And Heeyeon? Heeyeon is the first to call herself a baldy, never crosses her legs when she sits, goes from goofing off with the maknaes one second to talking seriously to Solji and me the next, always talks with full and chews with it open, should never be trusted with a pair of glasses.

Heeyeon laughs as easily as she cries, and she does both so freely and expressively that we’re usually drawn into following. Heeyeon taught herself multiple languages and can solve brain twisters before we’ve even finished reading them. Heeyeon has a voice that always shocks people because they can’t imagine how much talent and soul she has under that pretty face.

Hani exists for and belongs to the stage, the cameras, the Leggos. Heeyeon, I’d like to think, belongs to us. To me.

One thing is for certain in this life of uncertainties – whether as Hani or Heeyeon or someone in between, I love her. And in an industry full of falsities, that will never be a lie.

A/N: Title is after the quote "Each new day is a blank page in the diary of your life," but I also kind of want to incorporate the idea that an idol is, in some way, a blank page onto which to write your fantasies.