Gentle strums of the guitar filled the music room, a lone girl sitting at the corner, soft melodies escaping her lips, notes belted out of her abdomen quite effortlessly. If one was with her at the moment, they would most probably sigh dreamily at the sight of closed eyes and curled lips.

It was an equally magical moment for Wendy Son herself, basking in the tranquility of her music. It had always been her healing time, just idly singing and making music. She was completely in her element.

—Just then, a voice in her ear broke the trance.

“Teddy Bear to Olaf, Teddy Bear to Olaf. Do you copy?”

Her fingers froze halfway through plucking strings and she sighed, lifting her hand to tap on her inconspicuous earpiece, “Here,” she muttered, reluctantly putting down her guitar, “Is the cabbage out?”

Rapid typing could be heard from the other side along with a few off-key notes coughed by a piano, “Yeah. She just finished changing,”

“Please don’t tell me you saw that too,”

“Why would I watch that?!”

Wendy grinned at the CCTV camera at the corner, shrugging, before she picked up a cup of iced coffee, wore her round glasses, and proceeded to exit the music room, “Olaf in,”

She strode to the hallway with big, sure strides, taking her phone out just as the door next to the music room opened, a black haired girl stepping out.

“Gorgeous, in position,”

“I really think your codename should have been Satan instead. Squirtle in,”

Wendy kept her head bowed down, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. In her peripheral, she could see her friends lounging nearby. Her complete attention, however, was to the girl.

On three.

 One.

Two.

Three.

—and BAM!

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Wendy exclaimed, fussing over the stain her drink had put on the once perfectly white t-shirt. She pulled out her handkerchief and started to wipe brown splashes in vain, “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking—ah, what do I do? Your shirt’s ruined! Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I didn’t see—”

“It’s fine,” a quiet voice stopped her rambling, a gentle grip on her wrist halting her movements. Wendy looked up and she could hear one of her friends whistle through the earpiece, or maybe it was just her inner conscience.

The girl was very pretty. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, exposing a glorious face that cradled a small, polite smile. Wendy could totally see why everyone was going loco for this one.

“You’re drooling, unnie,”

Wendy immediately straightened up, retracting her wrist, “I’m so sorry. I should have watched where I was going but—”

“It’s okay, really.” The girl gave her a tight smile that was more like it’s-not-okay-but-I-don’t-have-time-to-deal-with-you smile, “I have a spare.” then she bowed her head in farewell, moving to walk past Wendy.

“Wait!” she made a wild grab at the girl’s wrist, “It may be okay for you but for me it’s not. Please let me pay you back? A cup of coffee maybe?”

“I don’t drink coffee,”

Wendy blinked, “Oh. Of course. Something else then. Anything you like?” she beamed her brightest smile.

There it was again, the tight smile, “No thanks,” she moved to leave but Wendy tightened her grip.

“I insist. Please.”

It happened for a split-second but Wendy was sure she saw it: a glint of annoyance in the girl’s eyes. “Then I’d like it if you just forget about it,” she bowed, “Have a good day,” she then turned and left, Wendy too stunned to stop her. In the corner of her eyes, she saw her friends stirring, moving to leave.

“Well, it looks like your billion-watt smile doesn’t work on everyone, unnie,”   

“Shut up, Gorgeous,”

An obnoxious cackle, “Why, thank you.”

***

 “Irene Bae,” Gorgeous, also known as Joy, hopped off her usual spot on the piano and sauntered over the glass board, spinning a white marker between her fingers, “Fourth year, dance major. Very pretty. Smart. Athletic. Dubbed as the Cold Goddess of Dongguk University and she’s living up to the name. Isn’t that right, Wendy-unnie?”

Wendy rolled her eyes, tongue in cheek. Seulgi and Yerim snickered.

“Based on information gathered from observation, Irene Bae almost has no friends at all. She doesn’t seem to be severe, just a little too firm with her decisions, but she exudes an unapproachable aura what with that resting face and blunt, straightforward speech.”

Joy pasted photos on the board; Irene Bae meticulously folding her used clothes from dance practice taken in different days from the CCTV, Irene Bae’s immaculately neat locker, Irene Bae arranging the pencils in her case, and a recent one, just a few minutes ago, Irene Bae frowning at her coffee-stained t-shirt with Wendy desperately trying to wipe it off. How Joy managed to take a picture of everything was beyond them but they’ve learned through time not to question.

“She’s the neat type, bordering on being a neat freak but she has good control over her emotions. However, having a blunt nature, she still sort of lets the other party know her displeasure, though coated with polite words. So far, she seems like the type who knows what she wants and what she doesn’t and if she wants something, she will get it. I’m betting she’s the competitive type,”

Joy finished her report and Wendy couldn’t help but feel awed. As expected of a psychology student. Joy was certainly good at reading people. Too good that Wendy would feel creeped out sometimes especially when the younger gives her that all-knowing look and sly smile.

Meanwhile, Yerim walked up and Joy went back to her spot.

The high school girl distributed folders, “Bae Joohyun, twenty-four years old. Born in Daegu, South Korea on March 29, 1991. 161 centimeters, 44  kilograms. Can’t eat chicken, doesn’t drink coffee. Her favorite color is purple and she likes stationeries. Hobbies would be dancing, ironing, and laundry,” she scribbled every word on the board, “She moved to Seoul to enter the university. Her family owns a restaurant business back in Daegu and she has a younger sister studying at Haknam High School. I have printed her schedule. Check it out in your folders. Her social security number would be—”

“Whoa there, Squirtle,” Seulgi interrupted, “You dug in that deep?”

Yerim gave her a deadpanned look, “I was kidding but I could find it out if you want me to,” she answered monotonously, “The only number that I have, however, is her phone number.” her lips stretched to a sly grin and she actually jotted down a string of numbers, “Save it. Might need it later.”

“Yerim had given me the number beforehand and I was able to break in but there’s nothing interesting there, really.” Seulgi shrugged and played a short piano rendition of All the Single Ladies and the monitors instantly lit up, showing Irene Bae’s message log, call log, contacts, emails, social media and apps.

“See? Her messages are purely from her family. Her calls and contacts are mostly to food deliveries. Spam basically fills up her email. She has an Instagram filled with pictures of the sky, the date of upload varying between ten weeks to fifty. She doesn’t have any interesting app other than that farm game she’s playing. There’s nothing.”

Sometimes, Wendy was just stupefied at her friends and wonders how and why these shady people were even her friends. Yerim was so good at gathering information what with her infinite connections she would have a bright future in the field of detectives. Seulgi was an excellent hacker and could break into almost everything. It was a relief these guys weren’t into robbing banks.

“No, that’s not nothing. That’s actually a lot, Seulgi,” Wendy spoke squinting at the screens, “Her phone says quite a lot about her. With her messages, we can hypothesize that she might be a family oriented person. And there’s the food deliveries. She must not be the type to cook often either because she doesn’t know how to or because she doesn’t have the time to. The sky pictures must be because she likes it and the inactivity and plainness in her social media accounts and phone can be because she’s not into gadgets and technology.”

The girls nodded in understanding. “Ah, as expected of Revel-LOVE’s resident y brain,” Joy said with a slow clap, earning a hit from a flying pen.

“So,” Seulgi spoke, turning to Joy, “We’re done with her profile for now. What’s the plan, Captain Gorgeous? There’s a plan set already, right?”

Joy smiled at the question.

“I’m glad you asked,”

***

 “Go on, Olaf-unnie. Sit beside her. It’s vacant!”

“Kim Yerim why are you at the headquarters?” Wendy mumbled quietly, “Don’t you have class?”

“Oh, I cut classes,”

“Why, you—”

“Professor Jang is preparing to get out of his office.” Seulgi’s voice cut her off, “Anytime now, Seungwan,”

The brilliant plan Joy and Yerim had cooked up turned out to be sending Wendy out as bait and spy.

They needed an eye on the inside, they reasoned out. Apparently, Wendy’s schedule matched Irene Bae’s best out of the four of them but really, they only had music together on Mondays and Thursdays and their vacant periods were almost exactly the same.

Her job was to befriend the girl to the point where she could freely ask her personal questions such as her ideal type that could help them formulate a role for Park Bogum to play. She would juice out as much information she could and use it as reference. It sounded simple enough but looking at Irene Bae, seated front row in their music class, made her hesitate. Joy was right. This girl exuded an unapproachable aura.

If there was something she did well in the agency, it was befriending necessary people. For some reason, people easily opens up to her. Joy and Yeri scares them away with their reputations and general creepiness, Seulgi often just space out a lot in the middle of conversations. Wendy was their only people-friendly member.

“Ah, whatever,” she grumbled, pushing up her glasses, and shot out from her seat, grabbing her bag, and marching over to the oblivious girl who was in the middle of arranging her pencil case.

“Hi,” Wendy greeted cheerfully as she sat down. The girl visibly flinched and all but snapped her neck to look at her. Hm, jumpy. “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Yes, actually,”

Wendy’s brows shot up. In her ear, she could hear her friends snickering. She sighed, “Look, I know we started off the wrong foot and I’m really sorry about that coffee incident but it would be nice to start over again, if that’s okay with you,” she smiled, trying to look friendly.

Irene Bae looked at her warily, as though she was expecting her to pull out a water gun filled with coffee and shoot her. She pursed her lips, seemingly pondering on the issue a little too much. What’s the big deal with making friends?

And then she’s ignoring her.

Wendy panicked. What the hell was that? She rummaged her brain. What’s she going to do now? “My name’s Wendy Son,” she blurted an introduction, offering a hand.

Irene Bae didn’t take it, “Bae Joohyun,” she answered and Wendy sighed in relief. At least she answered.

“Try to hit her popular button, unnie. Let’s see how she reacts,”

“I heard a lot about you,” Wendy smoothly added, “Fourth year, dance major, right?”

If Irene Bae was surprised that Wendy knew such information, it didn’t show on her perpetually stoic face. Perhaps she was used to people recognizing her, “Yes,”

She can hear Yeri’s thoughtful hum in her ear.

“I’m a music major,” Wendy told her, “Third year but can I call you unnie instead of sunbaenim?” she tried her smile again, trying to charm her way into the girl’s obviously thick walls.

Irene, however, merely looked at her as though she had grown another head.

Too soon?

“…I guess not?” Wendy chuckled awkwardly, rubbing her nape. Irene had already turned her attention to her writing materials, taking out her cute little purple notebooks. Wendy shifted, for the first time in her life not knowing how to socialize.

 “So,” she tried again, wetting her lips, “Where did the name ‘Irene’ come from, sunbaenim?”

“I don’t know,” Irene Bae replied quietly, not sparing Wendy a glance.

Wendy leaned back, taking a deep breath. O-kay.

She opened to try again but the door opened and Professor Jang walked in. Throughout the lecture, she tried and tried again to talk with Irene Bae only to be politely brushed off, the latter completely immersed with all the musical jargon the professor was spewing out. Wendy could only slump on her seat, giving Irene Bae a sidelong glance from now and again, thinking,

What am I supposed to do with this girl?