Tiffany fiddles with her bag as she’s waiting. For all her years in the entertainment industry, Hollywood is a whole new world and she feels as much of a rookie as she did ten years ago.

“Do you do this often?” she asks another auditionee who’s holding a magazine over her face.

The magazine is slowly lowered, and even though the face under it is covered by sunglasses Tiffany couldn’t have mistaken it. Couldn’t have mistaken her.

“Not really,” Jessica replies in a cool, almost bored voice, and suddenly Tiffany is transported to thirteen years ago, when she had enthusiastically introduced herself to the other American girl only to receive the same apathetic tone in return.

Thirteen years… Has it really been that long?

Jessica says something that Tiffany doesn’t catch, and Tiffany realizes she’s just staring at her. She’s aware that she’s gaping like a fish on dry land, but she’s too shocked by seeing Jessica here of all places. Even though this is the country they were born in, grew up in, seeing Jessica here feels like a dream, or a different life.

“Huh?” Tiffany blurts out. “I mean, sorry?”

Jessica gives her a look that’s part amusement, part something else. “What about you?” she repeats, casual, like she’s just returning small talk to a stranger. Maybe that’s all they are now.

Tiffany’s mind flashes back to her experiences with Fame, in both uppercase and lowercase. “I… This is my first time at a Hollywood audition.”

“Ah.” Jessica nods. “Well, best of luck.”

“Even though I’m competing against you?”

Jessica shrugs. “May the best woman win?”

“That’s nice of you, Jessi,” Tiffany chuckles, before she can stop herself. Jessica stiffens, and Tiffany wonders if this is it. They’re going to break this polite stranger façade. She supposes she has only herself to blame since she did it first.

“Thanks,” Jessica says slowly, and then, almost teasingly. “You’re not going to get all pouty like you did after I got the Legally Blonde role are you?”

“I didn’t get pouty!” Tiffany protests. “I was jealous for a minute, that’s all. One minute.”

“Sure. One minute.”

“You’re the one who didn’t even come to Fame to support me!”

“I’ve always supported you, even if I didn’t show it,” Jessica says quietly, and the silence between them becomes so dense it squeezes the breath from Tiffany’s lungs.

“I—Jessi—”

“Jessica Jung?” A harried-looking man holding a cup of coffee pushes open the door. “You’re up.”

Jessica doesn’t even spare Tiffany a glance as she follows him. She lays the magazine she was reading on the table, and then she’s gone past the door that spells success for only one of them.

Tiffany is left staring at the door, hoping for a second take.

She doesn’t get the role. It’s hardly a surprise. It’s her first audition, and she knew before walking in that she most likely wouldn’t succeed, that it was more for experience than anything else.

Well, she had certainly gotten an experience, even if it’s not the one she expected. She thought that she was good at compartmentalizing, at shutting out unwanted emotions, but throughout her audition all she could think of was Jessica. Jessica with that apathetic tone and bland expression, like she couldn’t care less when Tiffany knew just how much she was capable of caring. Jessica with a pair of B&E sunglasses dangling on her collar, the same pair that Tiffany has but never dares to wear. Jessica with hair darker than it’s ever been since their trainee days and eyes that are still exactly the same. It’s funny how back then, all they wanted to do was debut, have fans, become successful, and now that they have that, all she wants to do is return to those simpler, younger, happier days.

She wonders if it’s the same for Jessica.

The next time she sees Jessica is at an audition for a musical. Tiffany is reasonably sure that she had done a good job, although she knows that ‘good’ doesn’t count for much in this business, and she’s thinking about getting a cup of coffee and maybe a bagel when she almost bumps into someone on her way out.

And of course that someone is—

“Jessica?”

“Tiffany,” Jessica returns with a faint arch of her eyebrows.

“We’ve got to stop running into each other,” Tiffany jokes.

Jessica shrugs. “I guess Hollywood is only so big.”

“I guess,” Tiffany echoes with a thick tongue. “Are you…auditioning too?”

“No, I’ve changed careers to being a production assistant,” Jessica says, raising the cup of coffee in her hand. Tiffany stares at her, unsure how to reply, and Jessica cracks a smile. “Yes, I’m here for an audition.”

“Oh well, good luck?” It comes out as a question, even though she means it.

“Thanks,” Jessica says crisply, and makes to walk past her.

Tiffany can suddenly see their future encounters flash by like a reel, consisting of nothing more than polite greetings and careful pleasantries. And she realizes that nobody is going to click a clapboard, nobody is going to yell “take two!”, nobody is going to rewind the scene. Everything is in her hands, and if she wants the future to play out differently she has to take charge of it herself.

“Tiffany?” Jessica asks warily, and Tiffany realizes that she’s gripping Jessica’s sleeve and preventing her from walking away.

She forces herself to let go. “After you’re done, do you want to grab a coffee or something?” she asks with a hopeful smile.

Jessica hesitates, something rippling across her expression before she clears . “How much coffee do you think I can drink?” she says, raising the cup in her hands like a reminder. “Anyway, I have another audition after this one.”

“You’re so booked up,” Tiffany says lightly, trying to push away the sting of rejection. It’s not something she’s unfamiliar with in the industry, but it’s a different kind of hurt coming from Jessica.

Jessica shrugs again. “It’s audition season, right? I’m sure you’re trying for many roles yourself.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten one yet,” Tiffany says with a twist of .

“Neither have I,” Jessica says, “and if I don’t get going now, I stand a negative chance of getting this one.”

“Oh!” Tiffany jolts, as if she’s physically standing in front of a door and blocking Jessica from entering it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you for so long.”

“You mean this isn’t you trying to sabotage me so you have a better chance?”

Tiffany almost thinks that Jessica means it for half a second, until she catches the twinkle in her eyes. “That’s right,” she deadpans. “You caught me.”

Jessica’s mouth quirks up at the corners. “Well, see you around, Tiffany.”

“Right,” she says quietly, wishing that were a promise and not just a platitude. “See you around.”

This time, when Jessica walks past her, Tiffany does nothing to stop her.

Tiffany isn’t one to be deterred by rejections. For every opportunity she misses out on, she knows there’s another one out there waiting for her. However, she can’t help but wonder if some windows of opportunity can’t be opened again once they’ve been shut. Maybe she’s waited too long for this one, and the blinds have been pulled down and the cracks sealed up and there is no longer any chance of a breeze rolling in.

Her ringtone cuts into her thoughts, and she picks up the call on instinct. “Hello?”

“Tiff, you haven’t been replying to my texts,” comes Irene’s voice. “Are you in for drinks tonight or not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Irene coaxes. “It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know,” Tiffany says again. “I have to prepare for my audition tomorrow.”

Irene clucks her tongue. “Do you have the script already?”

“Well no, it’s an improv—”

“Exactly, so what are you going to practice anyway? There’s nothing more you can do to prepare. Come on, come out with me, unwind a little, have some fun. We won’t stay out too late.”

“You said this last time too and we came home at five in the morning,” Tiffany says, but her resolve is wavering. Maybe a night out would be good for her.

“Okay, this time I promise we’ll be back before midnight, princess, so you don’t have to worry about your carriage turning back into a pumpkin.”

“Really?” Tiffany laughs. “Before midnight?”

“Yeah no, that’s definitely not happening. Before three?”

“Sounds good,” Tiffany says, and ends the call with a smile.

“Tiff! I haven’t seen you in too long.” Irene holds out her arms and Tiffany smiles as she’s pulled into a hug. “You look great. Have you shrunk though? You’re even smaller than I remember.”

Tiffany scowls. “You’re the really tall one. Are you sure you haven’t grown?”

“Well, who knows what’s in the water here, right? But I don’t know, Jessica hasn’t grown since we’ve been here.” Irene moves aside and tugs the woman who had been half hidden behind her out into the light. “Come on Jess, are you being shy now?”

Tiffany’s throat dries up. “J-Jessica?”

“Hi,” Jessica says casually, raising the glass in her hand like she’s toasting her, and then turns to Irene with a small but impressively menacing scowl. “I wasn’t being shy. I was just enjoying my drink.”

Irene plucks the glass out of her hands. It’s empty. “Looks like you enjoyed it too much. Now I want one. Tiff, do you want anything?”

“Uh no, I’m good for now, thanks.”

“Jess?” Irene asks sweetly, and Jessica gives her a look that would have shaved a year off a lesser person’s life. Irene, meanwhile, just looks unfazed. “Nothing? Okay well, let me know if you change your mind. You two be nice to each other while I’m gone.”

She sashays away, leaving Jessica and Tiffany staring at each other. Tiffany wonders what they are to each other now. They’re not quite strangers, not quite friends, not quite lo— Maybe there is no word for what they are.

“You didn’t know I was going to be here, did you?” Jessica suddenly asks.

“No,” Tiffany replies automatically. “I wasn’t going to come tonight, actually. I almost backed out.” She hesitates for a second, two, and then adds, “But if I knew you were going to be here—”

“You wouldn’t have come?”

“No,” Tiffany says firmly. “I definitely would have come.”

Jessica’s mouth clicks shut. “Oh.”

“Did you know that Irene invited me?”

“No,” Jessica says. “If I did, I probably wouldn’t have come.”

It’s Tiffany’s turn to say “Oh,” small and low. Hurt.

“Not because I don’t want to see you,” Jessica says quietly, “but because I want to see you too much.”

She says the second part almost too softly to be heard. Tiffany actually thinks that she heard wrong, that her wishful thinking overpowered her senses, but then Jessica gives her a shy, furtive glance from under her lashes that lets Tiffany know she really said that.

“Well.” Tiffany starts to smile. “Here I am?”

“Here you are,” Jessica murmurs, and Tiffany feels like alcohol is burning through her veins even though she hasn’t had a sip to drink. “Not to use the most cliché line ever, but – do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Tiffany says, biting her lip and watching Jessica’s eyes go dark. “Yes, I do.”

It takes a lot of self-control to not kiss Jessica senseless in the back of the Uber car, but Tiffany manages somehow. She restrains herself to letting her fingers climb up Jessica’s bare thigh, dipping under where her skin ends and her dress begins and moving no further than that.

“Shouldn’t we have told Irene that we were leaving?” she somehow remembers to ask.

“I texted her,” Jessica says carelessly. “Plus, I’m sure she could have predicted this. In fact, I’m sure she was planning for this.”

“She was playing matchmaker for us? Or maybe I should say fairy godmother.”

Jessica laughs. “Something like that. Although I’m not sure either of us counts as a Prince Charming.”

“We don’t need princes,” Tiffany says, distracted by how Jessica’s dress has slid down. “Haven’t you heard? It’s a new age.”

“Tiff?”

“Yeah?”

“My eyes are up here.”

Tiffany jerks her whole head up, her face flaming, and Jessica laughs so brightly that all the lights in Hollywood couldn’t compare.

“It’s okay,” Jessica tells her, hand curling over hers where it’s resting on Jessica’s thigh. “We’ll be at the hotel soon.”

They don’t kiss, but Tiffany rests her head on Jessica’s shoulder and Jessica keeps her hand on hers, and it’s almost as good.

Jessica’s dress looks amazing on her, sleek and clinging, but it looks even better off her.

Tiffany feels like she doesn’t know where to put her hands, , because she wants to put them everywhere, wants to leave the imprint of her touch and kiss behind, wants to make sure this night is one Jessica can’t and won’t forget.

“Hey,” Jessica breathes against . “There’s no need to rush. We have plenty of time.”

Tiffany grazes her teeth lightly over Jessica’s bottom lip, careful not to break the skin, and Jessica makes a sound she very much wants to hear again.

“Jessi,” she murmurs, tongue folding over the name, reluctant to relinquish it.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you.”

It’s not what she means to say, but it’s what she means.

“I’ve missed you too,” Jessica says, like she’s helpless against it.

“I don’t mean this.” Although she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss this too. “I mean you.”

Jessica is silent for a moment before she says, “I know,” and then kisses her with so much heat and fervour that Tiffany is left dizzy, dazed with want.

And then she’s on her back and Jessica is looming over her, eyes dark not only with desire but something else, something heavier, but she finds it rather difficult to think about what it is, to think about anything at all, when Jessica puts on her.

They don’t talk much for the rest of the night.

Jessica’s dress doesn’t look as nice after a night spent on the floor, and she seems to be having some trouble putting it on.

“Do you want some help with that?” Tiffany asks conversationally.

Jessica starts and looks at her with wide, guilty eyes.

Tiffany offers a smile. “That doesn’t seem like the type of dress you can zip up yourself.”

“It’s not. Irene zipped me up last night.”

Tiffany sits up, not bothering to pull the sheets with her, and holds out her arms like she wants a hug. “Come here.”

Jessica hesitates for a split second before walking closer to the bed, holding her dress close to her body like a shield.

“Turn around,” Tiffany orders briskly, and ignores the flash of heat that zips over her when she’s presented with the tempting curve of Jessica’s spine, the smooth plane of her back on full display. The zipper sounds almost obscenely loud as Tiffany pulls it up, gently, stopping for a moment midway because it gets stuck. “There.”

“Thanks,” Jessica says, sounding almost shy.

“No problem.” Tiffany runs her fingers through her hair to smooth out some tangles, and then freezes as a realization comes to her. “What time is it?”

“Ten twenty. Do you ha—”

“!” Tiffany jumps up. “I have to get back. I have an audition at eleven.”

“Whoa, calm down,” Jessica says, reaching a hand toward her.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m going to be late, oh my god, I’ve never been late for an audition before. I’ve already blown it, I’m never going to—”

Jessica silences her with a kiss. “Calm down,” she repeats. “I’ll call you an Uber. Get dressed. Brush your teeth. Take some deep breaths.”

“Okay,” Tiffany says, doing the last one before telling her the address. “My eyes are up here,” she adds, as Jessica can’t seem to resist looking down.

Jessica doesn’t even blush at getting caught. “I’ll go call the Uber,” she says smoothly, but she leans in for another kiss before she goes.

Tiffany can’t help but think that if it weren’t for the audition, she would be pulling Jessica back to bed.

It somehow turns into a thing. It sounds ridiculous even in her head, but Tiffany doesn’t know what else to call it because she isn’t sure what this is. A hook up? A fling? A one night stand that’s more like a ten night one by this point?

“Am I just a booty call?” she finds herself whispering after one too many drinks and blinding strobe lights and Jessica’s mouth hot over her lipsjawneck before they ended up making out against the door of Tiffany’s apartment. And then they went inside.

“A what?” Jessica rolls over in bed and peers hazily at her.

“A boo—” Tiffany’s voice gives out on her and she can’t finish the question.

Jessica’s brow crinkles. “Are you my boo? Do you want me to call you that? Seems kind of cringy even for you, Steph.”

“Excuse me, what do you mean even for me?” Tiffany asks indignantly. “You sound like I’m cringy all the time.”

Jessica looks like she’s struggling not to laugh. “I mean—”

“Don’t finish that,” Tiffany warns, and then, just to make sure, seals over Jessica’s.

“Well, if you really want me to, I’ll call you that.” Jessica swallows, like she’s trying to down something unpleasant. “Boo.”

Tiffany jumps and pretends to be scared, and Jessica stares at her for a second like she has no idea what she’s doing before bursting into laughter. Tiffany drinks it in, wishing she could save the sight and take it out later.

“I don’t think I need to finish my sentence because you just finished it for me,” Jessica says, her words punctuated with a yawn. “Also, it’s lights out time. I need my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful enough.”

“When did you turn so greasy, Steph? First the boo and then this. Next thing I know, you’ll be writing me love poems.”

By the time Tiffany thinks of a reply, Jessica is already asleep. She’s always been able to knock out in seconds; it’s oddly reassuring to see that hasn’t changed. Tiffany tucks the blanket around her shoulders and resists the urge to curl around her. She lets her eyes slip shut and doesn’t let the words reverberating inside her slip past her lips.

I’d write you all the poetry in the world.

It’s odd, to be so far away from Korea both physically and mentally. She had returned to America before, she had gone to many other countries around the world, but her mind and heart were always back in Korea. Back home.

Is it still her home, she wonders. Her family, her dad and sister and brother, are here. But her other family, her girls, are in Korea. Even if they’re no longer under the same label, they’ll always be her best friends, her sisters, her family. She’ll always carry Girls’ Generation with her, from the tattoo on her foot to the pride in her heart.

And where does the woman beside her fit in this equation?

“What are you thinking about?” Jessica asks, fingers dancing up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “If you keep frowning like that, those lines will become permanent.”

Tiffany smiles a little. “That’d be sad. Do you think I’d lose my Innisfree endorsement?”

“If they let go of you, then they clearly don’t have eyes and you can do better.” Jessica’s own eyes are closed, and Tiffany is grateful for it. “Hey, you never answered my question.” She opens them and trains them on Tiffany. “What were you thinking about?”

Tiffany hesitates. She had once felt like she could tell Jessica anything, or that she didn’t even have to and Jessica would understand. Hey yo partner, no need to say! It’s been many years since they shared those words; she wonders if they could still share those feelings.

“Do you think… Where is home for you?”

“Where is home?” Jessica repeats, looking disconcerted at the question.

“Yeah. Is it here, or in Korea? Or…somewhere else?”

It’s Jessica’s turn to frown now, but it only lasts for a second before her expression is wiped smooth. “Home is wherever we make it, isn’t it? It doesn’t have to be locked down to a physical place.”

“What if I want it to be?”

Jessica’s eyes are keen but not sharp. “Do you want it to be locked down to a place, or a person?”

Tiffany drops hers. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, I’m not quizzing you.” Jessica gives a dry chuckle. “I didn’t do a very good job of answering your question, did I?”

“No, you did.” Tiffany looks up and braves a smile. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Jessica leans in and kisses her. It’s barely a peck, really, just a brush of lips, but it leaves Tiffany with a rush of warmth. “I don’t like seeing you frown.”

Tiffany doesn’t know what to say to that, and she’s spared from saying anything at all when Jessica’s phone buzzes and she takes it out.

“I have to go. Something came up at the company.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing big.” Jessica takes a moment to gather her things and fix her hair. “See you later.”

“See you.” And even though Tiffany knows the words to be true, she can’t help but dislike the sight of Jessica’s retreating back. Maybe she should be concerned by the depths of her reliance on Jessica, but she’s never known limits when it comes to her anyway.

How are you?

It’s a simple enough question, but Tiffany can feel the underlying concern behind the words. She also feels a stab of guilt, because she knows that she’s been absent from their Kakaotalk group chat lately. She’s been…preoccupied, but not with what they’d expect.

She wonders how they would feel if they knew who’s been occupying her bed during the night and her thoughts during the day.

She types back a Busy, sorry about not checking in!

Sooyoung replies almost immediately. We thought you forgot about us :(

I could never!!! Tiffany types so emphatically she can hear the press of her fingers against her phone screen.

We believe you, is Yuri’s response. I can hear you yelling through the screen.

Did you find an American beau, Hyoyeon writes, and Tiffany thinks, more like a beauty.

Unnie, you’re working hard on auditions, right? Seohyun asks. Good luck!

Yoona adds, I expect you to take America by storm, unnie, with a pig emoji that makes Tiffany roll her eyes but smile.

Taeyeon says that Ginger misses Prince, Sunny writes. By that, she means she misses you and she’s buying a plane ticket to LAX as we speak.

Taeyeon replies an hour later on the dot:

I’m not that desperate.

Tiffany laughs and, even if they’re thousands of miles away from her, feels home.

Tiffany isn’t a stranger to rejections, but they are starting to weigh on her. Each one is light but they accumulate like falling snow, threatening to bury her. She tries to shake their cold weight from her shoulders as she walks away from another failed audition, but not even the Hollywood sunlight can chase off the onset of winter.

Her phone buzzes and she checks it on habit. It’s a text from Jessica.

I saw this and thought of you.

It pulls out a laugh from her, like a forgotten fragment of summer. Is that for sale??

If it is, do you want me to contact the real estate agent for you?

Are you offering to buy it for me? ;)

What am I, your sugar mama?

No, you’re my boo, remember? xoxo

Jessica sends a row of scream emojis, and Tiffany replies with a kissy face one.

How did the audition go?

I didn’t get it, she types, wondering if Jessica can read the dejection between the words. How fitting it is, that dejection and rejection are only one letter off.

You’ll get the next one.

And somehow, she can read the faith in Jessica’s words.

Jessica is half an hour late to dinner, and when she shows up at Tiffany’s apartment her expression is worn, tired, but her eyes brighten when she sees Tiffany.

“Sorry,” she says as she takes off her shoes. “I got held up at work.”

“It’s okay.” Tiffany reaches for her scarf and coat, and Jessica hands them to her wordlessly. Tiffany hangs them up for her, and almost starts as Jessica wraps her arms around her from behind.

“You’re warm,” Jessica mumbles against her back.

“You sound like you want to sleep on me.”

“I’d rather sleep with you,” Jessica says, and Tiffany snorts.

“Okay Casanova, let’s have dinner first.”

“No, I mean sleep literally.” Jessica yawns. “I wouldn’t want to sleep on you, I’d crush you.”

“I don’t think you’re that heavy, Jessi,” she says wryly.

“Have you seen yourself? You’re like a stick.” Jessica pinches her waist. “You need to put on some weight.”

“Well, come eat with me and I will.” Jessica takes her outstretched hand as Tiffany pulls her towards the kitchen table.

“You’ve really picked up cooking,” Jessica says appreciatively as Tiffany sets a plate of zucchini noodles with shrimp and tomato in front of her. “You can make so many things now.”

“Well, I figured since I’m living on my own now, I have to learn to take care of myself, you know.”

Jessica gives her a swift look, but says nothing as she picks up a forkful of zoodles. “This is zucchini, right?” she suddenly asks.

Tiffany laughs. “Yes, it’s not cucumber, don’t worry.”

Jessica takes a bite, and Tiffany holds off on her first one as she looks at Jessica chew slowly before pronouncing, “It’s good.”

“Really? You like it?”

Jessica nods and spears a shrimp with her fork. “Yeah. I like how you didn’t use pasta. Are you turning into a foodie on me?”

“It’s healthier,” Tiffany says as she tries a mouthful. It’s a little bland, but still tasty. “I’m trying to make up for all the pizza I keep ordering.”

“And here I thought you were doing so well on taking care of yourself.”

“It’s a work in progress,” Tiffany says. “You’ve been really busy with work lately. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to meet this deadline for a project, but I’m almost there. Don’t worry about it.” Jessica reaches out and brushes her thumb across Tiffany’s knuckles. “Besides.” Her voice turns teasing. “I have to work hard so I can buy you that dream house, right?”

“What am I, Barbie?”

“No, because wouldn’t that make me Ken.” Jessica wrinkles her nose. “I don’t want to be Ken.”

Tiffany has to smother a laugh. “Nobody said you have to be. And hey, you’re the one who brought up that dream house.”

“Well, if you do find a dream house one day, I hope you get it.” Jessica’s fork scrapes across her almost empty plate. “I hope it can be the home you want.”

Jessica is very focused on getting the last bit of zoodle off her plate and into , her eyes trained on her food. Tiffany puts her hand over Jessica’s free one and squeezes, once.

There’s no need to say. She understands. They understand each other.

Jessica insists on doing the dishes since Tiffany had cooked, and Tiffany can tell how tired she is and says that she can just leave them for later. They settle on a compromise of having Jessica wash and Tiffany dry, and as Tiffany sees Jessica elbow deep in suds beside her, she’s struck by—something. A feeling of warmth, like a spring breeze, opening the blinds and letting the sunlight in to chase away the shadows of winter.

This is not the picture that she had painted of them together years ago, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a good one.

“You just reminded me of why I don’t cook,” Jessica says. “It’s so much work just for prep and cleanup.”

“You cook,” Tiffany points out. “I see the food you make on Instagram.”

“It’s an illusion,” Jessica says sagely. “It’s not really my food, you just think it is.”

Tiffany laughs. “Okay, Houdini. Thanks for helping me with the dishes, unless that was an illusion too.”

“You don’t have to thank me. If anything, I should be thanking you for making dinner.”

“Thank me by cooking for me next time.”

“Okay, since you made zucchini noodles, maybe I’ll try making cauliflower couscous.”

“Cauliflower…what?” Tiffany falters, and Jessica grins.

“You’ll see if I make it for you,” she says, flicking a speck of foam at Tiffany.

They almost get into a suds fight, but Tiffany is mature enough to call a truce before it comes to that. (Okay, only because Jessica had already seized the detergent bottle and she had no artillery on her side. Same thing.)

While Jessica’s in the bathroom, Tiffany gets a call. When Jessica returns, she sees Tiffany looking at her phone with an expression of disbelief.

“What is it?” Jessica asks, walking quickly to her. “What happened?”

Tiffany raises her head, slowly, and starts to smile. “I got a callback.”

Jessica’s eyes brighten immediately. “You did?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big role and I mean, it’s just a callback and they want me to do another audition, it doesn’t mean that I got the role, and anyway it’s—”

“Steph.”

Tiffany realizes that she said the whole thing in one breath and she has to stop and catch hers. “Yeah?”

“First, breathe. Second, congratulations.” Jessica doesn’t hug her, but instead puts her hands on her shoulders and looks into her eyes. “I knew you could do it. You deserve it.”

She says it so simply. There’s no spiel about her supposed talent or dedication or an assurance that she’ll definitely get the role. In spite of that, or rather because of it, Tiffany knows that Jessica means it wholeheartedly. That she had believed in Tiffany all along, believed that she could do it, even as Tiffany herself had started to doubt it.

“I’ve always supported you, even if I didn’t show it.”

And suddenly, Tiffany finds her eyes wet. She buries her head against Jessica’s shoulder and tries to hide the tears, but her shoulders shake and give her away.

“Hey, Steph.” Jessica’s voice is achingly gentle. “Come on. You’re supposed to be happy.”

“I am.” Tiffany’s voice shakes too. “I am happy. It’s just—I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“I know.” Jessica pulls back, coaxes Tiffany’s chin up and wipes away her tears. “I know you have. And you did it. I knew you would.”

“How could you have?” Tiffany’s voice almost cracks. “When I didn’t even know.”

“Because,” Jessica says. “I know you. And I love you.”

She says it so simply. There are no fireworks, no epiphanies, merely Jessica’s eyes on hers and the faint scent of pink grapefruit detergent.

“You do?” Tiffany’s voice comes out fragile, child-like, teeming with hope that is liable to pop like a soap bubble.

“Of course.” Jessica’s eyebrows draw together. “Don’t you know that already?”

“I—” Maybe she had, deep down, but there is a difference between knowing and knowing. And as much as Tiffany believes in no need to say, she needed to hear this. She needed to know that Jessica feels the same way, that their second take will lead to a better ending than their first one.

“Do you think I pretend to like zoodles and do dishes for everybody?”

“You mean you didn’t like the zoodles?” Tiffany asks, betrayed.

“It’s nothing against your cooking, but zucchinis really aren’t my thing.”

“But you finished the whole plate.”

“Yeah, because you made it for me and you were so excited for me to eat it.”

“Jessi,” Tiffany says softly. She doesn’t know what else to say besides that, but maybe she doesn’t need to.

“So when I make my cauliflower couscous for you, I expect you to go for seconds.”

“Okay,” Tiffany says somberly. “I’ll eat the whole pot.”

Jessica stares at her for a second with something like disbelief, and then she laughs and kisses Tiffany, and if happiness has a taste, Tiffany thinks this would be it.

“I love you too,” Tiffany says, later, when they’re sleeping together. Literally, that is. They hadn’t done much besides trade kisses all night, curled up together like a pair of quotation marks.

“I know. You told me already.”

“I did?” Had she said it in her sleep?

“Yeah, when you said ‘I’ll eat the whole pot.’ I heard it loud and clear there.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t listen hard enough.”

“Maybe your ears are damaged from your constant yelling,” Jessica suggests.

“Je-ssi,” Tiffany whines, and Jessica laughs.

“Not helping your case there, Steph.”

Tiffany shivers and Jessica frowns, puts her arms around her and pulls her closer.

“Are you cold?” Jessica murmurs. “Do you want me to turn up the heat?”

“No. Don’t go anywhere.” Tiffany wraps her ankle around Jessica’s and presses her bare foot against Jessica’s calf. Jessica’s skin feels very warm, so Tiffany’s must be cold to her but she makes no move to break away.

“I won’t,” Jessica promises.

Tiffany runs a finger between Jessica’s eyebrows, like she wants to wipe away any hint of a dent there. “I don’t like seeing you frown either.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not,” Jessica says, taking Tiffany’s hands between her own and rubbing them like she’s trying to start a fire. It feels like she’s succeeded, because Tiffany can feel a blaze of warmth flicker inside her.

“Hey, Steph.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you figured out where your home is yet?”

Tiffany keeps her eyes on Jessica’s. “Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “I think I have.”

A/N: I've wanted to write Irene Kim as their matchmaker for ages. Also, I’m trash for having JeTi talk about the concept of home and where they think theirs is.