Chapter 6

Meanwhile: Bae Joohyun & Son Seungwan

Son Seungwan grew up in a small town, haunted by the mysticism of its past. Her family lived just off the edge of the main street, a paved road with three shops, a post office, and a school lined the streets. Its inhabitants were torn by the spirituality of the past and the philosophies of the future, but most generally accepted the oddities around them.

Seungwan received her antlers at a young age, and though her parents were just regular, blue-collar humans, they were never short on love and support. She never felt the need to hide who she was, and her bubbly personality never failed to draw in the curiosity.

The Son family lived in a modest house beside the Kang family. Mr. Son and Mr. Kang worked together in a government office in the next town. Mrs. Son and Mrs. Kang taught at the local school. All the while, little Son Seungwan and little Kang Seulgi shared everything. Seulgi didn’t mind that Seungwan had antlers, and they were best friends long before Seulgi discovered her own superhuman qualities.

Seulgi was just as bubbly and friendly as Seungwan, and all throughout grade school, they got along famously well. Though they were surrounded by love and friendship, they were each other’s rock. They shared every joy, every sorrow, every secret, insecurity, down to the very last triviality. Truly, there was nothing they did not share.

Just them and the world—they thought it would be that way forever. After all, forever didn’t seem like such a long time when they were young.

But everything changed in their last year of grade school when Bae Joohyun moved to town.

According to the older kids in the conjoined middle school, Joohyun was a classical beauty—the kind who could capture an entire room with a single smile. It was said that the moment she stood up at the chalkboard—standing innocently beside the teacher as she was introduced—all one could hear in the room was the quiet dropping of jaws. It was no surprise then that everyone tripped over themselves to be her friend. She had a small pair of wings back then, like a cherub, an angel among the unworthy.

Seungwan and Seulgi stayed back in their own world, though the rumours secretly fascinated them in different ways. On the day that Joohyun came into town, the mood was quiet and contemplative when they held hands on the walk home, as if sensing the change to come. A change beyond anything else their young minds could imagine.

The first time Seungwan talked to Joohyun was in mid-Autumn. She was in the general store, killing time while Seulgi was at basketball practice, and was wrist deep in a sack of beans when a beautiful stranger caught her eye.

“What are you doing?” the stranger whispered.

Seungwan blushed to the tip of her ears, as she slowly, shamefully, withdrew her hand. But when she looked up, the stranger simply tilted her head. Her dark eyes were inquisitive as she patiently waited for Seungwan’s reply.

Young Seungwan, awed by this stranger’s very presence, could not—for the first time in her life—find the right words. “A-are you Bae Joohyun?” she squeaked.

Joohyun nodded, no more than a slight dip of her chin. “What were you doing?” she asked again.

“Oh!” Seungwan glanced at the snoozing proprietor nervously. “I-it’s something I like to do,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “It just...feels nice. Do you...want to try?”

Joohyun blushed, her eyes flitting anxiously from the shopkeeper to the beans to Seungwan’s face. Sensing her discomfort, Seungwan stood a little closer, shielding their hands from view as they dipped them into the shining pool of beans.

From there, an awkward encounter quickly blossomed into friendship. They met on the same day every week, Joohyun keeping Seungwan company while she waited for Seulgi. “I can be myself with you,” Joohyun confessed one day. She handed Seungwan a popsicle from the general store—her treat.

“Even though I’m just a kid?” Seungwan said, grinning widely as she accepted Joohyun’s gift.

Joohyun shrugged. “They don’t get it. What it’s like to be…different.”

Seungwan soon learned was that Joohyun was painfully shy. She had spent her life under the spotlight, but no matter what she tried, she could not make it go away. Slowly, but surely, twelve-year-old Son Seungwan began to coach fifteen-year-old Bae Joohyun, teach her to breathe, teach her to accept the world with open arms. To accept the world, even if the world wasn’t ready to accept her back.

And Seulgi, oblivious to it all, couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the rift began to grow between her and her best friend. She hadn’t noticed the faraway stares and frequent smiles, or the constant sighs of a girl who had, somewhere along the way, fallen in love with a beautiful upperclassman.

No, Joohyun would be the first of many secrets Seungwan hid from Seulgi.

Several weeks later, Seulgi’s power awakened. It was a confusing, uncomfortable, and very awkward transition period. Seungwan tackled five girls and three boys to the ground before they discovered the cause, and when Joohyun somehow got tangled up in the mess—Seungwan couldn’t quite explain why she had pushed Seulgi down instead of Joohyun. Seeing them together triggered something painful, and even though it was never Seulgi’s fault, a petty part of her couldn’t forgive what happened.

Their rift began to grow.

At the end of the year, Seungwan’s parents decided to send her abroad. North America. They’d done the research—there were others like her there. She bade farewell to Seulgi, and spilled her soul. She told her the truth about her feelings for Joohyun, made her promise not to ever tell. Seulgi wrapped an arm around her best friend, and mended the rift with love. It was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. In time, Seulgi knew, she could forgive everything. Seungwan was her best friend. They were going to be okay.

Seungwan bade farewell to Joohyun too, in the dusty alley beside the general store one sunny day. Joohyun had prepared a song—little did she understand her own powers then—and the results would change the course of their relationship forever. The song drew them together like magnets, and there—beside the store where they first met—they shared a kiss.

A kiss they would spend the next six years trying to forget.

Seungwan’s time in North America was a blur. She made friends, fit in with the local jackalopes at her new school, and got the grades to keep her parents happy. Once in a while, she would think of her hometown. She’d think of Seulgi’s daily messages, and Joohyun’s sparse notes too. She thought often of what would happen if she stayed, and as happy as she was that the distance seemed to bring her closer to her best friend, a part of her was disappointed too. Especially when it felt like Seulgi and Joohyun began replacing her with each other.

Joohyun’s friendship with Seulgi grew when Joohyun entered high school. High school was bigger. Broader. It sat between three towns, and invited many who did not take kindly to the supernatural. And even though puberty was kind, her wings grew bigger and bigger. In those first days, when the heart-crushing emotions of finding her desk carved out and her locker vandalized became too much, Seulgi was Joohyun’s saving grace. They relentlessly, though it was easy to see they were smitten with her too—young boys and awkward girls, trying to get her attention in the worst of ways. Seulgi was her shoulder to cry on, and—in the back of her mind—Seungwan was her strength. To accept the world, even if the world wasn’t ready to accept her yet—Joohyun carried this, carried Seungwan wherever she went.

Seulgi herself became notorious among her peers and those beyond. People gave her a wide berth, and though they spoke on the phone often, Seungwan couldn’t quite fill the emptiness she left behind with a few voice recordings. Joohyun was the closest thing to a rock she had in those days, though she felt no less alone. She didn’t understand the obsession with dating, didn’t understand the need for anything beyond a friendly touch—she felt leagues behind her peers, and a poor excuse for a succubus. This was who she was, and Seungwan wasn’t around to tell her it was okay. Not when it mattered.

Joohyun didn’t really seem to get it, but she tried. Seulgi could tell how hard she tried to fill in the void that Seungwan left behind; she could tell how impossible it was to do the same for Joohyun. Still, they took care of each other in Seungwan’s stead, and traversed the awkward path to adulthood together.

On a cool winter day in Joohyun’s last year of high school, she discovered the depth of her power, though she did not have a name for what she was yet. She set her sights on a tall brunette, who ran into her arms and made her feel loved, whole, while she sang her love song. But the song had to come to an end, and she was left bewildered and cold. Her song. And it all made sense.

She wasn’t an angel, but a siren.

She remembered a dusty alleyway then, and understood the kiss they shared. They were kids—it was never about love. It wasn’t real. The gnawing in her stomach was an empty feeling, one that she would carry with her for years to come.

That day with Seungwan—it wasn’t real.

Soon after, Joohyun lost her faith in love. It was meaningless, a beautiful illusion, a tool at most. She turned to Seulgi for help, but the succubus shrugged. Seulgi had never cared for or romance. There had never been existential crises or moral qualms.

Joohyun decided to do the same.

Years later, on a misty morning at the tail end of summer, the three friends reunited on the docks of Archangel Island. They looked different now, older.

Seungwan had flown into Seulgi’s arms as soon as her plane touched down in Seoul, and for the rest of the trip, neither wanted to let go. Joohyun met them at the docks, her wings fully grown and her very presence awe-inspiring. Seungwan could hardly believe she was the same person.

By then, in Joohyun’s fourth year, she had become both famous and infamous. She was feared and revered, with a frigid heart and the power to attract whoever she wanted, which was a power Joohyun shamelessly abused. It was quite something to end up in Joohyun’s bed, and many students at ArcIsland wore the honour like a trophy despite the knowledge of how many came before them. Really, it was no secret that Joohyun didn’t believe in love.

Even so, many speculated that Joohyun and Yongsun, ArcIsland’s most popular vampiric princess, secretly formed the most powerful couple on campus. Joohyun and her best friend, who had stuck by her side since their first year, were the constant subjects of rumours.

Undeniably, something tugged at Seungwan’s heart when she heard the rumours, but in her first few weeks at ArcIsland, she barely had time to think about them. People had seen Joohyun pick them up, had seen all the time she spent with the infamous siren, and though people thought she was just a simple target at first, it was quickly apparent that Joohyun had no plans to serenade the intriguing newcomers.

And for that first year together, things were fine.

For Joohyun—it was awkward at first. The sight of seeing her childhood friends as grown women took some getting used to, but, really, things were fine.

For Seulgi—no one was happier to be at ArcIsland than her. To have her two best friends back—it was more than anything else she could ever want. Yes, they were all different now, but she didn’t care.

For Seungwan—she loved being able to hug Seulgi again. It was different, however, with Joohyun. She didn’t quite know what to do about this new cool and aloof Joohyun, especially when being beside her was still enough to give her butterflies. Fortunately, she had a bit of a secret weapon—her rabbit form.

When she showed them the adorable new form that she’d acquired from her time overseas, Joohyun and Seulgi fought over who got to hold her first. They ruffled her fur and babbled her name like she was a puppy—it was a shock, to say the least, when Seungwan told them to stop in her human voice. Since then, Seungwan loved her rabbit form. The thing she looked forward to the most every day was Joohyun’s gentle, careful touch when she picked her up, and the way she thoughtlessly squeezed her close every morning when she flew her to class. Even if they seldom spoke when they were alone, she felt closer to Joohyun than she had in a long while.

The first year they became a trio passed easily. Seulgi and Seungwan were well-liked, easily fitting in, and, as roommates, they had plenty of chances to catch up and remove their old scars. Joohyun tutored them when she had time, and secretly adored the easiness in their friendship.

Except when she was left alone with Seungwan. Which was every morning. She often flew in silence, content with the feeling of Seungwan’s fur between her fingers, and luckily, Seungwan respected that. No matter how much of a happy buffer Seulgi was, being alone with Seungwan terrified Joohyun. It threatened The Plan, and threatened to expose her. Sure, Joohyun had given up on wishing whatever happened in the alley was real, but it was a wish she wanted to deny ever having. After all, no amount of wishing could make it real, or change the fact that her power of song existed to torment her.

The Plan was to rekindle an old friendship—no more, no less. Just between her and Seungwan. Even if she was no longer the same Joohyun who dipped her hands in a sack of beans. That Joohyun was long gone. But did Seungwan have to know that? Sure, she must’ve heard the rumours, but there was still a part of her that didn’t want Seungwan to know. Joohyun didn’t think she could handle Seungwan’s disappointment.

It seemed, in that first year, that The Plan was working. That maybe this peaceful life would be a template for their future years at ArcIsland together.

But with most plans, this one began to shift just before the start of Seungwan and Seulgi’s second year. And, no matter how much Joohyun will later deny this, it had very little to do with the disruptive entrance of Moon Byulyi.

Ugh, Byulyi.

Joohyun would be a master’s student in the fall, as well as the newly appointed dorm supervisor at the nomination of Yongsun. Kim Yongsun was Joohyun’s best friend—being the same age, and without the awkwardness of having to negotiate her past, they shared a friendship unlike anything else.

It was, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary meeting.

Yongsun was Joohyun’s very first room mate, and was unabashedly stringent about her rule against strangers in their shared room. Yongsun—Joohyun had very nearly said to her face once—was a prude. Still, Joohyun could not hate her. As annoying as she was whenever she chastised Joohyun about casual , Yongsun was a very likeable person, and was widely admired for both her beauty and intellect, having already accomplished far more than any of her peers at her age. She was sweet to boot, but matter of fact. Stern, but soft. In one moment, she would lecture Joohyun’s ear off about endangering her own health, and in another she would pull Joohyun from her drunken haze at various parties. Whether she was invited to the party or not. There were times when Joohyun considered those dating rumours, considered how good they would be together, but it was no use. Though she didn’t know the depth of it then, the ghost of Seungwan’s love still hung over her, convincing her that love was dead.

Still, Yongsun was beautiful, sweet, kind, and beyond anything Joohyun deserved, and she swore, somewhere along the way, that she would protect her. She swore to work hard and hoped to one day be worthy of her friendship.

And though she seldom kept secrets from Yongsun, she never did tell her how much she reminded her of Seungwan in those early days. Even if she couldn’t quite fill in the hole that Seungwan left.

In time, Seungwan’s friendship would mend the hole, Joohyun told herself. Just stick to The Plan. But just before Seungwan’s second year began, The Plan fell apart. A year’s worth of work shredded in a single night.

On a blistering summer day, Yongsun hired a luxurious yacht to celebrate their official move into their new rooms. At first, Joohyun was angry that Yongsun had pulled the strings to room her with Seungwan—it was dangerous, but there was no better opportunity to grow their friendship again. Seulgi moved in next door, and Joohyun’s stomach fluttered with the thought of either of them knowing how much she slept around, even if she had calmed down a lot since her first two years. Though she was not oblivious to the rumours, there was still a certain sanctity to maintaining that facade. But the anger didn’t last long. All Seungwan had to do was smile at her—that lopsided, toothy, eager grin—and she couldn’t help but look forward to the move. So, really, she was only too happy to celebrate.

Out on the ocean that day, Joohyun felt free in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Oh, she was determined to. The salty air, the music, the familiar bodies, the barrels of booze. It was the first party where both Seulgi and Seungwan was invited too, and Joohyun could not deny trying to drown her hyper-awareness of the two with alcohol.

But she let down her guard.

And did the unthinkable.

They had been reminiscing inside the cabin. Joohyun needed a glass of water and Seungwan was eager to help, though she was too inebriated herself to be much use, so they simply sat on a long, white couch and talked. Seungwan had her head lolled back, her grin wide and goofy as they relayed their happiest memories together. She was dangerously adorable.

“Remember that song you sang for me?” Seungwan said. Her cheeks were ruddy in her tipsy state, and Joohyun couldn’t take her eyes off her.

“Do you want me to sing it to you?” Joohyun was sober enough to know what this meant, and it was a question Seungwan wasn’t quite sober enough to be careful of. But in that moment, Seungwan’s lips were so inviting, and she wanted them badly.

She scooted a little closer, closing the little space between their thighs. Seungwan giggled, and leaned into Joohyun.

“Yes.”

And so she did. The kiss was tender, sweet, and far more electric than the kiss she’d spent years glorifying in her memory. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was this side of Seungwan she never knew—all red lips, long lashes, and sinful smiles. This side of Seungwan that she wished she never met.

The song gave them two hours, and Joohyun was determined to commit every millisecond to memory, because this was the first and last time they’d ever go this far. It had to be. Even if it was the most beautiful night of her life, making love—for she wasn’t quite sober enough to call it anything else—with the pale moonlight streaming in through the porthole. At the end of those two hours, Seungwan laid on the long couch, softly snoring as Joohyun pulled her jacket over her body. Then, half-dressed and defeated by the reality of the situation, Joohyun hid in the bathroom and cried.

They never talked about this night, at least not for a long time.

A couple months of summer pass by, enough time for Joohyun to run away from Seungwan just a little longer as she followed Yongsun to Romania to visit her extended family.

And then, Moon Byulyi. That dumb werewolf.

Joohyun did not like Byulyi. She made a list of reasons why.

1. Byulyi was an ignorant newbie in this world
2. Byulyi was an idiot
3. Byulyi was a werewolf
4. Byulyi was an idiot who somehow managed to charm people with her werewolf powers
5. Byulyi was a werewolf

Joohyun hated werewolves and their cliquey culture and how everyone is for some reason beautiful or roguishly handsome or both. She hated that they were so weirdly irresistibly charming, even if they were idiots, and how they liked wearing leather jackets like they were in a gang. Worst of all, werewolves were bigger gossips than a troupe of middle aged women at a family reunion.

Ok, so maybe she was still a little annoyed about that one time at a party when she and Hani—no, no, this was about Moon Byulyi.

Moon Byulyi was possibly the most dangerous werewolf of all. She never wore leather jackets, always looking so smartly dressed it was like she was ready to solve a case for British intelligence at any moment. She was so individual. A rogue wolf. Unpredictable. The absolute worst kind of werewolf.

She didn’t understand why Seulgi liked her. But Seulgi liked everyone. It was Seungwan’s friendliness she didn’t like. Wolves eat rabbits for dinner.

And Joohyun sure as hell didn’t miss the way she looked at Seungwan when they broke up the fight. Sure, it turned out to just be a short-lived wave of relief, but first impressions were very important. And the way she later watched her slobbering over Yongsun sure didn’t help.

Ugh, dogs.

It was like Byulyi was out to get her, prying her closest friends away from her one by one—Joohyun told herself to calm down. Be rational. Seulgi and Seungwan were old enough to hang out with whoever they wanted to. It wasn’t her business.

But there was something else.

Yongsun seemed drawn to Byulyi in a way no one could explain. Werewolf magic. Joohyun couldn’t help but be concerned about Yongsun—she had never seen her so restless. There was something there—a secret Yongsun kept from her. She kept a close watch.

And much to Seungwan’s incredible dismay in that first week, Joohyun became an absent room mate, too far into her duties as supervisor and protective best friend (and victim of an ‘idiotic infatuation’) to spend the night in her own room. Seungwan would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about where Joohyun went at night, but she tried not to lose heart—it wasn’t her business. They still spent time together when Joohyun carried her to class every morning. Besides, she was glad to have a bit of time by herself to process the events of that night. Alone in her own room, she thought back often to that night on the yacht and how beautiful Joohyun looked under those moonbeams. She still couldn’t believe her own courage, asking a siren for her song—by then, she had done plenty of research on the subject.

It was an experiment with results she didn’t know what to do with. Her hypothesis was that a siren’s song would accelerate her feelings far past its threshold, and maybe, hopefully, probably, explode into nothingness and give her a sense of closure once and for all. She’d wondered many times whether her infatuation was a very long-term effect of Joohyun’s song all those years ago, but she could not deny the feelings that brewed long before the song. Unfortunately, out on the yacht that day, Seungwan learned that her feelings could not explode.

In fact, the song had no effect on her at all. And that was rather unsettling, especially when Seungwan wasn’t drunk enough to blame the alcohol.

The next day, Seungwan rushed to the library and learned that jackalopes had the ridiculous ability to absorb and learn music. In theory, she could even repeat the siren song. But how could she tell Joohyun? It quickly occurred to her that no matter how intimate that night had been, she easily could’ve been just another in Joohyun’s long line of lovers, and it was her own stupid feelings that were muddling everything up.

Maybe a tiny part of her wanted Joohyun to keep believing it was the song. It was, for a lack of a better reason, just easier.

So Seungwan decided to do what she had done since middle school: bury those feelings. All of them. At least, until she found a place to put them, which seemed rather unlikely. Since Joohyun seemed to be avoiding her over the summer months, the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize their friendship even further. No, it was safe to assume that it would be best to put it behind them—pretend it was just a mistake. An accident.

An accident she could carry with her for the rest of her life like a souvenir. Surely in a few years, it would be easy to look back and laugh. So she bit down and spent the next several weeks like nothing had changed. Hell, she even learned to joke about Joohyun’s siren song. It was best not to take any chances.

Everything was back to normal.

By the time school came around, she even made new friends. Seungwan liked Byulyi—thought she was funny, and earnest, if a bit clumsy. She didn’t understand why Joohyun hated her so much, at least not at first. And she had to admit that Byulyi’s friendship with Seulgi was pretty cute.

As soon as Yongsun entered the picture, it all made sense. She had been suspecting for some time now that there was a bit of truth behind the rumours around Joohyun and Yongsun, and even if they were not officially together, it was clear that Joohyun cared a lot for Yongsun. The thought of it wrenched her heart. Whatever they had on the yacht—Seungwan was sure now that it was a mistake.

But it wasn’t a mistake stayed silent for long.

At the end of September, on a particularly cold and lonely night, Seungwan invited Seulgi downstairs into the communal kitchen to bake brownies with her.

“I think I’m still in love with Joohyun,” Seungwan mumbled as she aggressively mixed the batter in a metal bowl. A part of her hoped that Seulgi wouldn’t hear her, but it was late at night and not a soul was around.

“Well, yeah, I could’ve told you that,” came Seulgi’s unexpected reply. She had her hand in a bowl of chocolate chips, and lips in a playful grin.

Seungwan couldn’t believe it. “You knew?”

Seulgi shrugged, and popped two chocolate chips into . “It was obvious. I just thought you didn’t want to tell me.”

Seungwan nudged her lightly with a shoulder. “You know I hate keeping secrets from you, Seul.”

Seulgi smiled. “I kind of get it though. I’m just a weird aual succubus, what do I know about love, right?”

“Probably a lot more than me,” Seungwan sulked, throwing another handful of chocolate chips into the mixing bowl. “You’re very observant.”

“Joohyun-unnie cares about you a lot though. Maybe she likes you back?”

Seungwan stopped mixing and fixed her stare on the deep brown mixture. “It’s not the same.”

Seulgi sighed. They’d been here too many times for her to count. So she said the only thing she knew Seungwan wanted to hear: “Okay.”

Seungwan thought for a moment. She put everything down and wiped at the flour on her face with the back of her hand. “Can I try something?”

“Wan-ah, your face is really intense right now…”

Seungwan shook her head. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind. Please.”

“Okay, um, well I’ll do whatever I can to help?”

Seungwan’s expression softened into a smile. “Thanks, Seulgom.” She bit her lip, her eyes darting about nervously, then dusted the flour off her hands her hands and pulled Seulgi in front of her. “Don’t move, and don’t speak, okay? Just listen.” Seulgi nodded slowly, her arms stiff by her side, her face lined with worry.

Seungwan opened and sang the most beautiful melody Seulgi had ever heard. The siren’s song was irresistible, even to the normally placid succubus.

As soon as the last note left Seungwan’s lips, Seulgi reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, her gloved hands burning hot against Seungwan’s skin. Seungwan shuffled back, unsure what to expect.  

“Wan, I—that was such a beautiful song, and I don’t know what’s happening—I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” She marched into Seungwan’s space, pinning her against the counter with both arms on either side. “I’ve never noticed how pretty you were,” Seulgi mumbled, craning forward to plant a kiss on her neck.

Oh no.

She did not think this through.

“Seul, stop, this is really weird,” Seungwan cried, pushing her back. But her best friend could not be moved.

Seungwan’s mind flashed back to Byulyi, and how Seulgi had been in her exact position just weeks ago. Except she was by herself in a kitchen, and this was her innocent best friend.

“Oh god how long does this last?” Seungwan wondered out loud. She clasped a hand over Seulgi’s puckered lips. “Seriously, Seul, stop! This isn’t you! Aish, what if someone comes in here?”

“But you smell so good.”

“Seul, ew, seriously, this isn’t funny. W-what are you doing? That’s my—Seul! Get your hands off my , you dumb bear!”

In response, Seulgi slid a knee between Seungwan’s legs, the movement so sudden that poor the jackalope jerked back, knocking over the bag of flour and sending a cloud of white bursting in between them.

Seulgi broke away, coughing and blinking away the white dust. “Wanni-i-i-ie!” She whined—it was an unsettling amount of aegyo, and Seungwan hoped she never had to hear it again after this blew over. “Don’t you love me?”

“Aish, not like this!” Seungwan said, holding both arms out uselessly as Seulgi barged her way back in between them.

“Ahh, but Wannie you smell so nice and you look so pretty and I just want to hug you and kiss you, please, please, please!”

Seungwan pressed her forearm to Seulgi’s collarbone, fending her off rather unsuccessfully given Seulgi’s height advantage. “No, no, no! Snap out of it, Seul!”

It was a draining back and forth, until Seungwan found herself halfway on the kitchen counter, with Seulgi latched to her neck like a very thirsty, very handsy vampire. And it was in this moment that Joohyun walked into the room, dropped her backpack, and lost her .

Seungwan said nothing as she demurely accepted Joohyun’s wrath with Seulgi’s arms glued to her waist. Joohyun went on about respect and the sanctity of a shared space—on and on until Seungwan was certain she didn’t even know why she was angry anymore.

Seungwan really didn’t think this through.

She stormed off before anyone else could get a word in, but the storm continued to brew for several more days. Joohyun avoided them; Seungwan took a gryphon to class. Eventually she had taken the same black gryphon around so often that she deemed him her favourite. His name was Atlas, and he was her friend. He listened to her and didn’t leap to conclusions, and certainly didn’t childishly run away from his problems like someone else she knew.

Seungwan hated herself for acting so childishly, but trusted it to all blow over in a few days. It would’ve at least, had Joohyun not cornered her.

Outside, right by the Spire. In public.

With a damning accusation.

“Seungwan, are you avoiding me?”

 “What?”

“You heard me.” Joohyun crosses her arms, her brows furrowed deep.

“Unnie, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m the one being ridiculous now after you—”

“Stop! This is a public place! And you were the one avoiding me.”

Seulgi jogged up to them then with a cheery greeting and a wave, but stopped immediately at the sight of her friends glaring at each other. The tension was thick with something she didn’t quite understand. She couldn’t remember most of that night in the kitchen, but it was clear that something had shifted between the three of them.

More accusations flew—no one seemed to know where to put their hurt. Even the mild-mannered Seungwan could not keep so many feelings under wraps for that long. A crowd began to gather, curious about the vague little jabs directed between them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” One would say.

“Can’t you listen just once?” Another might say.

It was a roundabout way to fight about Seungwan’s “late-night kitchen rendezvous” as Joohyun put it, but there seemed to be a mutual agreement that it was about so much more. If they could only find the right words to say. Perhaps it had all been just a roundabout way of giving up on their broken friendship, or the acknowledgment that they could never go back to their younger days.

All things must come to an end—that was for certain.

It started with this fight.

Byulyi bumped into Seulgi. The crowd lost interest as crowds often do. Everyone left. Eventually, it was just the three of them, huddled in different corners of the campus, trying not to cry too loudly.

But things could be reborn.

And it started with that night.

Joohyun returned to the dorm that day with a bottle of reconciliatory champagne. It wasn’t much, but it had been eating away at her all day. The look on Seungwan’s face was so—how could she hurt her like that? Even if her feelings were unrequited, they were friends first and foremost. She had been selfish, and god, she didn’t want to dissect all the emotions she had felt when she saw Seungwan and Seulgi together. Was still feeling.

Fortunately, Seungwan had the same idea with a fresh plate of cookies. So, they lit a candle, and shared their cookies and champagne over awkward apologies and easy conversation. At least, until the champagne bottle emptied.

Pink-cheeked Seungwan was the first to break.

“That night on the boat...it was really nice,” she said into the no-longer-comfortable silence that had befallen them.

Joohyun laughed a little too loudly. She was on the floor, her head in Seungwan’s lap, her limbs way too heavy to move. “Wan-ah, you’re drunk,” she mumbled, reaching up to cover Seungwan’s face with a palm.

“I’m not. You are,” Seungwan cried, her voice muffling against the heel of Joohyun’s palm. For no reason at all, she pressed her lips against the soft hand, and nuzzled against it with her cheek.

Joohyun grazed a finger from her cheek to her lips. “You’re so beautiful in the candlelight,” she thought out loud.

Seungwan swallowed. “Unnie, I—”

Joohyun clasped her hand onto Seungwan’s mouth. “We shouldn’t,” she said.

But they do. They burn, perfect and passionate in each other’s arms, as if in that moment alone they were built for each other and nothing else mattered. This can’t happen again, they tell themselves over and over.

But it does, and it drove Joohyun crazy. Seungwan always looked at her whenever they made love—no, no, they slept together. That was all. There was no love. Friendship, yes, but nothing more. Several times Seungwan looked ready to confess everything to her, and each time Joohyun was tempted to know, because god, what if she felt the same way?

But love was a lie. At least for her. Seungwan—whatever she felt for her—it was an illusion. A very real one, but an illusion nonetheless, and she knew that as soon as she heard the words she wanted so desperately to hear, there would be no turning back. Joohyun would dive head-first—she’d devote everything, then it’ll all go away in a puff of smoke when they realize they’d simply been under a spell. She couldn’t risk that with Seungwan. Anybody but Seungwan.

If only she could stop herself from finding excuses, finding new bottles, and finding new songs to give her courage. If only she could stop all this wanting.

If only they didn’t somehow become friends with too-good-to-be-true benefits.

If only she wasn’t born a ing siren.

Notes: Hello everyone! I tried something a little bit different with this update. It's a bit like a fic within a fic isn't it? And hey, Moonsun wasn't completely absent. Let me know what you all think!

This spinoff chapter intersects with the main story at several points. Hopefully that has answered most of the questions posed so far. 

Also, jackalopes are actually known to mimic the songs of people working in the fields in North America, so I actually got the idea from my research. The more you know!