Seulgi feels her lungs burn –

There’s familiarity in the pain and then there’s sadness too, something akin to existing but not living, and it’s growing in her lungs with roots and withering flower buds and so many thorns.

There’s someone in the mirror – no, there’s Seulgi in the mirror, heaving after dancing for the past two hours, and there are people behind her so she curves her lips up in a smile because explaining why she feels like crying seems so much like giving up.

(Everybody’s giving up, or giving up on her.
But it’s the same thing in this building.)

(They all leave.
Why is everybody leaving?
Why is she staying?)

She has no words to give anyways. She has tears, though, for later in the dormitory where her biggest dreams soar to hit the ceiling and bounce back to hit her in the face – that’s reality.

The dance instructor in front of her has so many advices to give, she listens.

“It’s all about the right moment,” he says with confidence. “Always.”

It’s been seven years, Seulgi thinks. She doesn’t have the luxury.

The thought only waters her lungs.

 

 

__

 

 

So she breaks down in a bathroom stall right after bolting out of the room, once the training session ends. It’s behind closed doors: ugly sobs racking her tiny body in search of anything to drown the pain.

(Please approach her gently; she’s made of glass right now and maybe all the time too.)

Seulgi clamps a hand against but a silent plea still slips and leaves her for god.

Help me, help me, help me. God, please.
Help me.

She remembers the first time she entered this building with stars in her eyes where now there’s nothing left but lurking shadows. There’s nothing at all, empty, dark ing brown.

Only so much pain.

Even when the tears dry on her cheeks, it still feels like everything’s pooling out of her – that’s a feeling she doesn’t understand.
But she can’t leave this body like she can’t leave this dream.

 

 

__

 

 

Joohyun waits for her by the gate. She’s still clad in her sweats and she’s still so beautiful.

Once she sees Seulgi and she’s close enough, she throws her a can of that apple juice she likes so much like it’s a silent promise of I know, and I’m here.

Seulgi wonders what makes the sudden warmth in her sternum; maybe it’s the hand that takes her own, maybe it’s the smile that means the world Joohyun always wears. Or maybe it’s just the walk back home in the quiet of the earliest of their mornings.

The sun rises slowly as orange turns pink in the sky. They drag their aching feet in familiar patterns and there’s another day that blends into their today.

Seulgi hates herself for letting this feel like a nightmare, rather than a dream.

(But it’s been seven years.)

 

 

__

 

 

“You’ve been quiet all day,” Joohyun says offhandedly, picking at her noodles absently. Her tone is nonchalant but her eyes waver the way they always do when it comes to her loved ones.

She’s seen her like this before; she’s seen the younger girl stutter and wander and ponder on life because she’s been missing on so much.

Seulgi rests her own box of Chinese takeout on the table before her and wipes , leaning back against the sofa. They were sitting on the floor, hoping that the cold tiles would sooth the ache in their feet. “Yeah,” she tries – feels a lump forming in , choking her. Even to her own ears it sounds like a terrible lie. “I am just tired.”

It’s all she gives but it still feels like she revealed everything and suddenly, she’s too small for this body.
She feels .

Joohyun looks at her a good minute before speaking again, gulping down her worry before it seeps through her eyes in waterfalls. “Okay.”

They share a smile, even though they both know it’s fake.
They will themselves to believe.

 

 

__

 

 

When did it start?

Seulgi taps her feet against the floor nervously, her back flat against the wall of the waiting room. She’s expected for a pep talk with one of her instructors – “you’ve been sad lately,” the woman said to her with a small smile, “come see me in my office tomorrow and we’ll talk a bit?”

She wants none of it but she guesses she doesn’t have a choice.

When did it start?

She woke up one morning and her shoulders felt heavier. Her eyes were dimmer. Her steps slower. Was there a turning point? There were so many turning points so Seulgi decides it was more of a process. Every day a part of her died and she didn’t notice up until recently.

The burn in her eyes dowsed; the fire was gone.

So when did it start?

The end of her, when did it start?

 

 

__

 

 

“Mom?”

“Yes, love?”

She puts her hand against the mic of her handphone and gasps for air, whimpering as quietly as possible. She looks at her feet and only speaks a heartbeat later, “I love you mom.”

“Aigo,” there’s laughter, and then adoration. “My baby. I love you too.”

“Mom. Tell dad,” she pauses, wetting her lips to taste tears. “Tell dad I’m still doing my best.”

“We know, Sseul-ah. Why are you like this, did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine mom,” she wipes her tears harshly, looks back at the closed door of the rooftop. “I’m all good.”

She expects Joohyun to bolt through the door and love her forever but then she remembers their conversation from the night before and it leaves her cold, scared.

Joohyun smiled at her so tightly, last night.

Maybe she gave up, too.

 

 

__

 

 

Joohyun didn’t give up on her.

(Deep inside, Seulgi never really believed that she would.)

Joohyun waits for her again, at the end of the day. Still clad in her sweats, still so beautiful. She has a plastic bag with two cans of apple juice, and a smile that still means the world.

They walk home together and they hold hands and it’s the only reason why she believes it will get better.

 

 

__

 

 

It doesn’t get better.

(She still feels like disappearing whenever she enters the training room, she still feels like crying whenever her muscles ache. She still calls her mom when she feels like her heart’s going to bust into fragments. She still feigns her smiles and fakes her laughter.)

It gets worse.

(One morning she wakes up and her voice is just… gone. The teachers hug her in the hallways like she’s an old friend but it’s been seven years and maybe she is an old friend. They tell her it’s normal and common; they promise it’s just a bump in the road.

Joohyun swears it’ll come back sooner rather than later, and she’ll sing for her again: serenades and sad ballads for the lovers they weren’t.)

It gets worse.

 

 

__

 

 

They’re lying on the floor of Joohyun’s room, quiet and tired.

Seulgi feels her eyelids drop heavily; it’s been so long since she last slept peacefully, always carrying her full heart like it’ll change something in this world.

(She usually lies on her bed with half her covers on the floor and her eyes on the ceiling.

Sometimes she prays and sometimes she dies.

Sometimes she thinks about Joohyun and even that doesn’t bring comfort.

It only gets worse.)

“Do you remember when we first met?” Joohyun asks.

Seulgi hums because she does. She remembers long hair and shy eyes that refused to meet hers stubbornly, shyly. She remembers laughing so hard that day, because Joohyun felt like someone she knew from her past lives.

Someone who’d stay forever and a day more just to keep her going.

“I was afraid,” Joohyun confesses. “But you taught me the courage to stand for what I believe in and then, I suddenly wanted to believe in us.”

There’s silence after that as they gather up the memories. (It’s been five years.) Maybe it’s not that long ago, or maybe it was yesterday, the day they met and exchanged vows to make it next to the Moon.

“Joohyun?” The girl hums an answer. Seulgi turns her head to look at her, suppressing the urge she has to apologise. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” she replies without a doubt, lips curling up in a sweet smile and constellations in her eyes. “Because we’re together, I’m happy, Seulgi.”

Seulgi smiles back, guilt gnawing at her bones. How easy it is for Joohyun to smile and laugh and say she’s happy, she admires that greatly. “I love you.”

They slept like that.

 

 

__

 

 

 

(Joohyun wakes up in the middle of the night and brings the shattering small body of her best friend and holds it against her chest like –

Like she’s gonna lose her.

Maybe she already did.

“I love you too,” she tells her. “I love you.”)

 

 

__

 

 

“Where’s Seulgi?” The dance teacher asks, hands on his hips as he tries to catch his breath after ending the dance routine.

Joohyun raises a hesitant hand to talk, a lie ready under her tongue. They spent the night together and the morning Seulgi was gone. She twists the fact to fit her best friend’s hunched back and tired eyes. “She’s sick, I think.”

“Is that so?” He wonders, nodding to himself. “It’s okay, she deserves a break that kid.”

He’s probably right.

 

 

__

 

 

Seulgi strolls down the Han River in worn out training shoes, uncertain where to put her feet. She counts the passing cars, fits clenching tightly in the pockets of her jacket because they’re not dance steps or music notes. It’s not what she does, but maybe she’ll have to learn to live with that.

(To exist with that.)

Maybe they grew, the thorns in her lungs, and maybe she’s bleeding to death–

If she dies, no one will know. No one will care. No one will call her name. There’s no song out there so her voice won’t remain, too, and what a waste, really.

What a waste of space she is.

She bumps into someone, she bows to apologise.
They say “it’s okay,” and she almost tells them it’s not.

It’s not okay.

It’s the years piling up on her shoulders and she still didn’t conquer the universe like she promised herself.

Seulgi stops by a convenience store and slips her phone out of her pocket to dial Joohyun’s number. Her vision’s a blurry picture of lights.

She answers immediately. “Kang Seulgi, where the hell are you?”

“I–” She starts but stops herself before she lies. She has no explanation, and she’s been out since dawn and it’s past midnight and there’re tears in her eyes and it hurts. She sniffs. “Joohyun. Do you want to go eat ramyun with me? I’m at the con-store in front of Han.”

Joohyun breathes out a long sigh and says, “yes. But I’m angry.” A pause. “Are you crying?”

Joohyun says yes because she’ll never say no to her, and that’s so ing unfair.

“No,” Seulgi whimpers, bringing her hat down to cover her eyes.

She feels like a piece of her heart broke.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

 

 

__

 

 

They end up sharing one slice of cheese to go with the ramyun. Joohyun gives her the bigger part, because she’s Joohyun.

They sit on a cold bench and watch the river as it moves quietly, and they eat.

They’re together, and that should be enough.

It’s not. Seulgi puts down her half-full cup of noodles on the floor and leans her elbows on her knees, burying her face in her hand. She told herself she’ll talk, so she’s trying. “It’s been hard lately,” she begins. “I don’t know why but it’s been impossible.”

“I’ve noticed,” Joohyun says and mimics her actions to give her all of her attention. She hates the redness in her best friend’s eyes. “Are you ready to talk about it now, Sseul?”

Seulgi nods. She does – but she doesn’t know what to say, nor how to say it. She turns to look at her and smiles, unmindful of the tears that escaped her despite the effort. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” Joohyun blinks at her, taken aback by the desperation in her own voice. She leaves her seat to crouch down in front of the crying girl, careful. “This? You mean SM?”

“Everything?” Seulgi’s voice cracks as she replies, uncertain. That’s the question she’s been trying to answer, and it’s still unexplainable how hefty it is to her. She feels her friend’s hands on her thighs as she shakes her head at her, just as confused as she was. “I just… right now, I want to stop hurting? Because it’s been seven years, now, unnie.” Another wave of pain crashes against her chest, she feels the weight of the years. “I’m scared, and I feel lost.”

“I’m here,” Joohyun pleads. “And we’re almost there.”

“But I’m not!” Seulgi cries out, joining their foreheads. “I’m not here. I’m nowhere at all. And it’s dark and it’s cold and I always want to disappear.” A sniff. “I can’t even say your name without my voice breaking,” she confesses, tone full of goodbyes. “I’m never going to make it.”

In front of them, the river looks infinitely wide.

Seulgi thinks she’s just a speck of dust compared to that.

(Eventually, she’ll fade away.)  

 

 

__

 

 

Joohyun doesn’t let her sleep alone, not after that day. She holds her against her chest every night and Seulgi’s never seen her so anxious. Joohyun buries her head in her hair then and tells her about the good things; the picture of the sky that she snapped in a hurry that morning on her way home and the snacks she bought for them like a secret for the four walls of their dorm room.

Seulgi listens to her heartbeats all the time along with her words, and she wonders if this is a melody she’s really ready to abandon and leave behind.
Sometimes, when Joohyun thinks she’s sleeping, she listens to it as it breaks while the older girl’s body shakes in agony.

(It’s probably for her that Joohyun cries.

Oh.)

 

 

__

 

 

“You can’t leave,” Joohyun tells her a few days later over lunch.

Seulgi watches the frown on her face and her hair as it dances with the wind. They’re on the rooftop, and they’re alone and it’s something that feels like happiness that taints moments like these. They’re sitting in front of one another, knees touching. Seulgi could’ve known Joohyun better if she didn’t lose so many opportunities worrying, then she would’ve guessed the words under her tongue before she said them.

The older woman looks at her, unblinking. There’s warmth blending with the light brown of her beautiful eyes. “I don’t want to do this without you. And you said you believed in us so don’t tell me you suddenly don’t anymore, because that’s not like you,” she says with conviction, shaking her head. “You can’t leave now that you made me feel so much–” She exhales sharply, shaking her head. “You can’t leave now that you made me fall in love with you Kang Seulgi.”

The sun shines brighter when Joohyun wears her hair down like this, Seulgi decides. And the sky looks clearer, and the world’s easier. She’s beautiful, and her heart is made of light. She’s the love songs, and the heartbeats, and the only reason she’s still there.

They’re kissing, suddenly, with Joohyun’s hand on her cheek. The curve in Seulgi’s lips doesn’t go unnoticed.

It’s the first time her voice doesn’t break as she says, “Joohyun, I love you.”

It’s been five years since she started loving her, or maybe forever.

Only when it comes to Joohyun time doesn’t matter.

 

 

__

 

 

“Shh, it’s okay,” she says, holding the taller girl and rocking their bodies for whatever comfort that could offer.

Seulgi’s tears wet her shirt like a reminder: a confession doesn’t mean everything’s suddenly going to be fine.

But Joohyun said I love you, and she meant everything.

(The tears, the nightmares, the doubts, the quiver of her voice, the quiver of her body.

The smiles, the promises, the mornings, the kisses good night, the perfume on their bed sheets, the taste of her.

Seulgi.)

“I love you, just let it out,” she tells her, bringing her even closer as if to see if she could share her pain. “I’m here.”

 

 

__

 

 

Seulgi looks at her tiredly, the ghost of a smile on her face but that’s more than enough. Her nose’s red, her eyes are puffy and her round ears protruding. The sunlight brightens her brown orbs and suddenly they’re heaven with all the angels and the stars swimming.

“Hello you,” Joohyun grins, tucking a wandering strand of hair behind her lover’s ear. Seulgi cried herself to sleep the night before, but seeing her smile like this despite that meant the world to her. “Slept well?”

“Yes,” the younger girl nods sleepily, yawning. She curls into Joohyun and buries her head in her chest. “Good morning. I love you so much.”

Joohyun’s grin threatens to split her face at the random confession. She laughs out loud, incapable of containing the sudden happiness that fills her chest. “And I love you so much more,” she coos, rubbing her back gently. “Do you want me to cook us something?”

At that, the younger girl raises from the embrace to look at her, one eye open and the other still close. She scrunches her nose. “I call it cheatday. Let’s go for a brunch.”

“Okay,” the older girl laughs again. And sometimes Seulgi’s a storm, but she’s also the sun – every morning, Joohyun decides she’s worth all the efforts. She leans forward and pecks her lips, satisfied. “I love you a lot.”

“More than I do?”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

It’s been seven years, and a few stolen moments like these.

 

 

__

 

 

The trainees gather in the room, anxious. Joohyun stays right beside her, almost unbothered. She holds her hand as their instructors start joining them one by one, unmindful of their presence.

“It’s okay,” she tells Seulgi. “We’re okay.”

But Seulgi’s heart is beating so fast and it’s not beautiful. It’s neither the life her parents gave her nor the life Joohyun wants for her, it’s the pain and it’s a mess in her chest. It’s not okay.

Help. Help me.
Help.

Please?

Maybe she’s drowning.

“Okay, we have a list of five names here,” the man speaks up, and if Joohyun looks up, Seulgi doesn’t. “That doesn’t mean that the others don’t stand a chance to debut. It’s all about the right moment.”

Seulgi’s heard this so, so many times before, and from so many people. She’s sick. She feels sick.

“Kim Yerim. Please stand next to instructor Jung.”

Her palms are sweating and her muscles tense all at once; she recognises the panic gnawing at her nerves.

“Park Sooyoung.”

She feels the shortness of her breath and it’s agonising, lungs burning familiarly.

“Son Seungwan.”

Maybe it’s the end for her; maybe it’s really the end. She’s really going to disappear. Seulgi brings a hand against , because the air she’s in? It’s not reaching her lungs. Maybe she’s truly dying.

Joohyun turns to her, eyebrows furrowed as she opens to ask—

“Bae Joohyun.”

And Seulgi gasps out loud at that, tumbling backwards like she’s been hit in the chest with force. And she might as well get shot, at this point. She looks at the roomful of people watching her worriedly. Knowingly. “I’m sorry. I’ll just—” She stutters and gently takes Joohyun’s hand off of hers. “I need to take a breather.” She walks to the door and slips out of there before Joohyun finishes calling out her name.

Before she dies.
(She can’t breathe.)

She sprints up the stairs and to the rooftop, almost losing balance on the blurry marches before her. The door’s not locked, and she doesn’t lock it behind her either. She just goes for the railing, gasping for air because she truly feels like—

She feels like—

“,” she gasps, bringing a hand to her chest where her heart thunders. She eases herself down on the floor and tries to catch her breath but it’s not working. She’s going to die – maybe that’s it, maybe that’s why she’ll never make it.

She can’t breathe.

She’s going to die.

And in the midst of the storm, she doesn’t notice the girl that crashed on the ground beside her, just as breathless.

“Seulgi—” She stops midway when her lover tears the collar of her shirt open, panting. Joohyun panics. “Do you need me to call someone? Seul – baby, breathe! Please. Love. Look at me.”

There are hands on Seulgi’s shoulders and it’s Joohyun, she recognises the sound of her voice. “Unnie, I can’t breathe— I can’t—” She whimpers and lets her tears fall, no longer strong enough to hold them back. She gasps, shutting her eyes tightly. The hands crawl up to cup her face in two warm palms.

“Look at me!” Joohyun orders and waits until she does; thunderstorms in two brown orbs that hesitantly meet hers. “Yes, that’s it, look at me,” She hums, wiping her tears away. “I’m going to count to five and you’re going to breathe in. Then, I’m going to count to three and you’ll breathe out for five more counts. Okay, sweetie? Slowly, with me.”

Seulgi focuses on that, and ignores the voices in her head telling her that now that Joohyun’s gone, she’ll never make it alive out of there. Maybe it’s farfetched but Seulgi worries about the littlest things like shoelaces and birthdays, so even if it’s nothing, it’s still everything to her. One. Two. Three. Is she alone now? Five. She holds her breath, still sobbing. One. Two. Three. She breathes out.

“You’re doing great. Come on, again,” Joohyun tells her, and counts out loud for her to follow.

Seulgi focuses on that and holds onto the sound of her voice like a lifeline. Steadily, she feels herself calm down as air fills her lungs. The worry stays on the back of her mind though. She grasps Joohyun’s arms and if she can, she’ll never let her go. “Unnie,” she cries out the moment she feels herself capable of talking and breathing on her own. “I can’t—I can’t lose you.”

And that’s selfish, because if Joohyun has to go then she has to go. She gasps for air once more, tries to steady her breathing into an easier pattern.

“I need you to calm down because it’s not what you think—it’s not what you think. Please.” Joohyun wipes the tears before they leave the corner of her lover’s eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I can’t do that to you!” Seulgi tells her, tensing her muscles in vain because nothing can protect her from the wave of pain that dawns on her. She sniffs. “I can’t let you do that for me. I can’t –”

“He said your name!” She cuts her off with a scream that seems to snap her out of whatever was going on in her head. “We’re together. No one’s leaving,” she explains, joining their foreheads in a way that makes her remember a lot of nights spent in the small space of their shared dorm room. “He said your name too, right after mine.”

Seulgi looks at her then, still crying, still winded. “What?”

“You’re debuting too. We made it. He said your name too.”

(And it’s been seven years.)

 

 

__

 

 

It gets better.

(She still can’t believe it’s happening, but it is.

They get a group name, and new friends, and new songs filled with their voices and their colours and it’s beautiful.)

It gets better.

 

 

__

__

 

 

They lie on the floor of their shared room, arms touching slightly and fingers intertwined loosely.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Joohyun asks, a smile palpable in her tone.

Seulgi hums because she does. She remembers all of it.

“‘Uh, I’m sorry I’ll just -- I need a breather,’ ”a voice mocks, pointedly high pitched for extra dramatic effect. “Honestly unnie, that was so theatrical, even for you.”

“S’young, stop teasing your unnie,” another voice reprimands, husky and warm. “Seulgi, please ignore her.”

Seulgi looks up at the two girls sitting on the bed and laughs, “thanks Seungwan.”

Beside her, Joohyun shakes with laughter, “I can’t believe you thought I was going to debut without you.”

“Hey!” The girl whines right back, pouting. “I wouldn’t have let you give up on the chance to debut just for me, you know!”

Sooyoung sighs loudly. “Now let’s stop thinking about the sad things that didn’t happen and let’s focus on our debut stage tomorrow, please.”

“Yes, I agree with her. For once,” Seungwan quips and earns herself a slap on her thigh. She grins. “I can’t believe it’s tomorrow, though.”

“Oh I do,” Seulgi grimaces. “It’s been seven long years.”

“Think about it this way,” their temporary maknae (until Yerim can join them, they agreed) speaks up again, puffing her chest proudly. “You wouldn’t have met me if you debuted any earlier.”

“And would that have been a bad thing?” That earns Seulgi a pillow to the face and a yell.

Joohyun, their leader, laughs loudly at that, eyes shining with happiness.

Seulgi feels her lungs burn –

She looks at her lover and there’s familiarity in the easiness she feels and then there’s contentment in her sternum, something akin to living and loving; it’s growing in her lungs with roots and blooming flower buds and so many more seeds left to fill her gardens.

She laughs, too. Just as loudly.

(Even if it’s been seven years.)

 

 

__