Part 1: Solo

Soyoung shoulders her bag, then pulls up the handle of the one suitcase she’s bringing. She doesn’t have much—never did, really—but she doesn’t care. She’s leaving, and that’s all that seems to matter. Gone from the frightfully big place that she never could quite call home, gone from the yelling and screaming of her mother and stepfather and from the origin of the scars and bruises, and once again, she tells herself that it’s the only thing that matters. She’s leaving. She’ll be gone. Everything will be fine after that.

She sniffles once, then twice. She rubs her eyes, but the tears don’t stop. Ten seconds later, she’s trying to muffle the sobs into her hands because part of her wonders if it’ll ever be gone. Maybe it’ll stay there forever. There are reminders, after all, everywhere on her that she can’t get rid of.

A minute or so later, she gets her tears under control. Steeling her back and putting on the straightest face she can manage (it’s what she’s good at, anyway), Soyoung stands up as the lady at the desk calls for the passengers to board the plane.

I’m leaving, Soyoung tells herself, and it’s more of a plea than a statement. And it’ll all be left behind and forgotten.

***

It’s a sweltering day when Soyoung leaves the building, and it’s only seven thirty in the morning. Her roommate is still asleep, having no classes until one in the afternoon, and the moment she steps outside, she immediately shrugs off the coat she’s worn just-in-case because it’s now too hot to handle it.

There’s not many people on campus as she heads for the building. She passes by a couple people she knows, but maybe the thought of greeting someone you just know and aren’t friends with is awkward on both sides because they pass by silently, not one word exchanged, not even a greeting. She’s quiet anyway, and none of them really expect her to talk much. They’re used to it: Hwa Soyoung, supposed violin prodigy, who never says a thing in classes. There’s a couple of “hi Soyoung’s” here and there, but all in all, the lack of attention is admittedly something Soyoung doesn’t mind.

Classes go by quick. It’s a mundane day, and nothing sets it apart from the usual, though Soyoung doesn’t mind. She likes it the way it is—simple, the same schedule. What she likes most is perhaps the freedom—there’s no way there to tell her what she can do and what she can’t anymore, and just the ability to simply follow her own schedule, however boring it is, feels like a blessing.

She heads for the music room immediately after her last class ends. It’s perhaps the most relaxing part of the day—music had always been soothing to her, and it was also relaxation.

Except she’s not the only one there when she opens the door.

It’s not too much of a surprise when she spots her professor—he’s also her violin teacher—sorting out folders on the desk at the side, but there’s also another man beside him, back turned to her, and a mop of chestnut brown hair. He’s halfway through a sentence, sounding somewhat frustrated, and then he whirls around the moment she opens the door, a frown etched on his face.

There’s a long, long moment of silence as Professor Cho also turns around. He’s also looking somewhat irritated, but that turns into a slight smile when recognition passes on his face.

“Perfect timing, Soyoung,” he says. “I was just talking to Baekhyun about you.”

The boy beside him turns to look at her as if in a new light. “That’s her?” he demands.

Professor Cho frowns. “The whole department knows who she is. You’ve never seen her?”

He’s not very tall, Soyoung observes first. His brown hair is a little too long, bangs covering his eyebrows and nearing his eyes and very messy. His lips are thin, eyes narrowed at the moment, arms folded over his chest. It feels like he’s scrutinizing her, and Soyoung’s tempted to turn the other way and just leave. Maybe he didn’t know her, but everyone knows Byun Baekhyun.

“No,” he finally says decidedly. “Nope. Never seen her.”

“Well, that’s Hwa Soyoung.” Professor Cho gestures towards her. “I was telling Baekhyun about the concert we’re hosting in October—you’ve decided on your piece, yes?”

She nods slowly.
 

“Wonderful!” He beams at them both, and Baekhyun groans. “As you know, we always close the concert with a duet, and you two are definitely my first pick. Both of you are my top students. Soyoung, what do you say?”

She gapes at him. He's going too fast for her to understand what he's getting at. She still hasn't gotten past the fact that Byun Baekhyun's there. “Pardon me?”

“You and Baekhyun are going to perform a duet for the closing piece,” he repeats. “I’ve picked the piece out—it’s going to be a challenge, but you two can definitely pull it off. Soyoung, you have your violin with you, right?”

“I’m not going to perform a duet with her—”

“Now there.” Professor Cho pats him with a hand, a placating gesture, though Baekhyun bristles even more. “Remember what I told you? You’re doing this or I’m taking away your solo. And hers.”

“What?” Soyoung demands, and simultaneously, Baekhyun all but wails, “That’s not fair!”

There’s a very long pause before Professor Cho straightens. He looks quite pleased with himself. “I left the music sheets there,” he tells her. “I have your score and Baekhyun’s. You two can practice today if you want, and I’ll sort out more with you tomorrow. I have to get home now before Minseo skins me alive. See you tomorrow.”

Soyoung doesn’t even have time to respond when he waves at them both, brushes past a spluttering Baekhyun, pushes open the door wider and disappears in a blur of his beige coloured coat (which is too hot to wear, in Soyoung’s opinion). Baekhyun somehow finds it in him to yell, “I’d rather not perform then!” but Professor Cho shows no sign of having heard him. For a moment, he looks like he’s either going to punch the wall or he’s going to pull out his hair, though he doesn’t end up doing either and instead fixes an angry gaze on Soyoung, like it’s all her fault.

“I’m not gonna do it,” is all he says before he storms out of the door too.

That’s her first impression of Byun Baekhyun, apart from the rumours she’s heard about him.

It’s not a good impression, but fortunately, it doesn’t happen to be the last either.

***

Baekhyun does not show up the next day in the afternoon. Soyoung ends up leaving the music there, and Professor Cho has to hand it to her with an embarrassed laugh, saying that Baekhyun was probably trying to give him the cold shoulder. They then continue the violin lesson like always, as if the duet isn't a topic lingering over both of them.

Nothing’s unusual about the rest of the week, and she doesn’t see Baekhyun at all. Maybe, Soyoung thinks to herself, that he’ll throw such a fit about it that Professor Cho will leave it at that and get someone else to do the duet.

It’s not even a full week before she sees him again, and funnily, he’s begging Professor Cho this time. Soyoung walks into the room to see Professor Cho arranging scores on his desk, and Baekhyun who’s talking with rapid hand movements and head shaking and please reconsider this every couple of words. Professor Cho looks up the moment she enters, like normal, and he raises an eyebrow.

Baekhyun’s the one to shoot to his feet first, though. He whips around, eyes wide. “I’ll do it,” he says immediately. “Soyoung, I’ll do the duet with you. We should get practicing.”

She opens , closes it, does the same thing again and then squints at Professor Cho, too confused to even look at Baekhyun. Then she realizes that he’s mouthing something—it looks suspiciously like please, and she gives another questioning look at Professor Cho. He’s smiling smugly.

“Well,” he says with a shrug. “I suppose you can still do you solo then, Baekhyun. You better practice well and not fool around. She’s your junior, so take care of her.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to clock someone—probably her or Professor Cho—over the head with the piano sheet book he’s gripping in his hands, but he ends up giving her a large, mainly fake smile and holds out a hand. In the back of her mind, Soyoung acknowledges the fact that his fingers are long and slender, almost prettily symmetrical, though it’s as expected of a piano player.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun,” he says. “I believe we didn’t have a proper introduction last time. It’s nice to meet you. I hope we’ll work well together.”

Soyoung eyes his hands. It’s just a handshake, she tells herself, even though she’d much rather avoid contact altogether. Hesitantly, she wraps her hands around his fingers only. “Hwa Soyoung,” she starts hesitantly. “Likewise…?”

Professor Cho claps his hands. “Wonderful,” he exclaims. “Give me a moment and I’ll tell you guys everything.”

***

The moment he’s out the door, Baekhyun’s whole body sags. Soyoung shuffles away from him until she’s reached a comfortable distance, and to her relief, Baekhyun doesn’t question why. “I hate him,” he grouches underneath his breath. “Dammit, why can’t I just do my solo without having to do that stupid duet?” He narrows his eyes at her. “Look, no offense and all, but I think we can both agree that neither of us want to do it.”

She has no idea what to say. He’s right, on that point, because she really isn’t looking forward to working with someone with that sort of attitude, but at the same time, there’s no way out of it. The terms are clear: duet, or no solo. There was no such thing as solo with no duet. But still—there’s almost a sort of aggressiveness—or maybe he’s just too energetic and outgoing for her to handle—in the way Baekhyun speaks that makes her unable to reply and also fills her with some sort of unease. Glancing at her feet, she mumbles, “It’s not like we have a choice about it.”

He snorts. “So you’re on his side?” Before she can reply, he continues, “How come I don’t ever see you around? I know almost everyone in our department. I mean, I’ve heard about you, but I’ve never… seen you.”

Soyoung shrugs, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the moment. Baekhyun is too chatty. “I don’t… go to social gatherings a lot.”

“No parties? Student held events? None?”

She shakes her head.

“Damn,” he whistles. “University must be boring for you.”

“Not really,” Soyoung replies in an even smaller voice, wanting to curl into a ball and stay there (because quite frankly, she couldn’t handle Byun Baekhyun). At that moment, the door opens again and Professor Cho steps inside, and she lets out the breath she was holding. She’s not sure if she can handle Byun Baekhyun for longer, much less for the next six months in which she’ll have to practice with him. At least once a week, Soyoung calculates, and it probably won’t be enough—twice? Three times? She shudders at the thought.

“I see you two are talking,” Professor Cho exclaims. “Does that mean it’s set?”

***

Forty five minutes later, Soyoung is making her way back to her dorm with a new phone number listed under the contact of Byun Baekhyun, a load of dread on her head about the upcoming performance, and finally, the new sheet music she was going to have to learn for the duet. It’s nearly seven, and the sun is beginning to set. She ends up running back because she wants to make it back before dark, and when she finally bursts through the door, her roommate is already sitting on her bed.

“Hi,” Soyoung mumbles. Seulgi looks up from her phone.

“You’re back,” she says, though it’s more of a question than a statement. Since Soyoung remembers, Seulgi’s always been shy—she doesn’t say much, she’s apparently out of the door before she’s even awake or she’s sleeping when Soyoung’s out the door. They don’t talk much, apart from a couple of greetings, but the quietness is what she prefers anyway. They get along perfectly fine, Seulgi doesn’t pry—everything’s fine.

And so the rest of the night continues like normal, though Soyoung goes to sleep still wondering how the hell she’s supposed to work out her duet with Byun Baekhyun.

***

It’s a Tuesday night that she finally meets up with him, and it’s because Professor Cho forced both of them. Baekhyun comes in dragging his feet, grumbling something about meeting with his friends, but he ends up sitting down to warm up on the piano. Soyoung tunes her violin to the best of her ability, though it’s not easy with the way he’s playing. She’s tired from the day’s work, and the last thing she wants to do is deal with Byun Baekhyun and his annoying chatter.

It’s at least fifteen minutes later when Baekhyun announces that he’s finished with his warmup, and then he tilts his head at her.

“So?” he asks. “Have you learned your parts yet?”

Soyoung glances at her sheet music. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Baekhyun echoes incredulously. “What are you even doing? We’re not meeting up for you to learn it. That’s for you to do in your own time. I’m not wasting an hour of my week to wait for you to learn that piece.”

“I can sight read it right now,” she mumbles quietly, and Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at her.

“Sight read it?” he echoes. “I don’t know about your part, but the piano’s pretty difficult and it took a couple of practices to get it right. How are you going to sight read it right now? Forget it, we’ll just meet up when you’ve learned your part—”

Soyoung’s not sure why she does it. Is it to prove Baekhyun wrong? She has no idea, but before he finishes his sentence, she’s drawing her bow across the strings. The first note resounds through the music room, and he freezes where he’s sitting. She’s a bit off tempo, and it lacks the required dynamics, but a couple of bars into the piece, the music starts flowing, the notes clicking easily. A page into it, she’s forgotten that he’s sitting there, and the violin feels wonderfully perfect underneath her fingertips, the music complete and whole and free of blemish. Maybe that’s the part she likes the most about music—it’s clean, it’s pure, untainted, and she can create it. It’s the closest to all of that that she can reach.

The flow breaks when she reaches over to turn the sheet. There’s three pages left, and while it’s difficult, it’s not that hard for her to pick up again. She’s about to play when a hand reaches into her vision and pushes the violin down.

Confused and a bit miffed, Soyoung lowers her violin so she can look straight at Baekhyun.

“I…” He pauses, looking like he’s at a bit of a loss for words. “Are you sure you haven’t played this before?”

She shakes her head at him, and wonders if she should ask him to play too. It’ll be easier for her to play her part after the first try, and part of her really wants Baekhyun to step back because he’s too close for comfort. There’s no way she’s saying it aloud, though, and he doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d take a hint even if it were extremely obvious. “We can try to do it together?” she suggests in a small voice.

Baekhyun frowns. “Why do you always mumble everything with your head down?” he asks instead of replying to her question. “Can’t you look at people when you talk?”

Soyoung swallows the lump in . “Sorry,” she says, but it doesn’t really work because she’s even quieter than the last time. The more he speaks, the more she’s sure that please give me my personal bubble won’t cut it because Baekhyun doesn’t seem to know what personal space even is. “Can we just… practice?”

He’s persistent. “I don’t know anything about you,” he continues on. “I’ve heard all about Hwa Soyoung this and Hwa Soyoung that, but how come I never see you around? I get that you’re quiet and all, but how can literally no one I know be friends with you?”

“We’re here to practice—”

“Seriously, isn’t college boring? How do you even get through one year of uni without socializing? You’re a first year, but you’ve been here for what, seven or eight months already? Don’t you have any fun?”

“Baekhyun,” Soyoung tries, trying to force the tremor out of her voice. You were telling me a moment ago that you didn’t want to practice because I didn’t know my piece yet. Why are you asking so many pointless things now? None of that, however, comes out. Maybe it’s confrontation that she’s scared of. Or maybe Baekhyun is too straightforward, proximity too close for comfort, and that in itself is a scary thought. An almost terrifying reminder. All of a sudden, she doesn’t want to be alone in the practice room with him, with a man, and for a moment, Soyoung contemplates bolting.

He tilts his head at her, leaning over her music stand. “How do you even live if you don’t do anything? Do you just go to the music room everyday or something?”

Soyoung wants to push him away. He’s standing so close—so, so close—and it’s genuinely terrifying. The casual way he speaks makes it worse—after all, he does have the reputation of going through four girlfriends in the past year and perhaps more flings than that—and all of a sudden, running is not just a thought but the only option. She takes a step back, nearly trips over her violin case, and then scrambles to keep her balance. Her head is spinning wildly.

“What—” Baekhyun starts, but she’s done the ritual so many times that she can do it with her eyes closed. Bow and violin tucked in safely, she slams the lid of her case shut.

“Hey, Hwa Soyoung,” he says again. “Where are you—”

“Sorry,” she mumbles one last time to him, and then all but runs out of the door.

***

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. Soyoung spends the majority of the night staring at the ceiling, torn between actually getting a good rest and staying awake because sleep also seems like a terrifying place to be. She listens to Seulgi’s soft snores on the other side—it’s a Wednesday, which means the other girl will be most likely up after her—and when she finally falls asleep, she’s back home once again, caught up in the endless nightmare that doesn’t seem to cease.

***

She doesn’t see Byun Baekhyun again the following week. Professor Cho asks her about it, and she fibs about some sort of exam and Baekhyun being busy, and somehow, he doesn’t press. On Saturday night, she retrieves the sheet music she’s left behind in the music room, but she doesn’t take it out to play. He’s not there, thankfully, but for the most part, Soyoung avoids the music room to the best of her capabilities anyways.

It’s inevitable, she knows, because the duet isn’t something that Professor Cho had given them an alternative too, but avoiding him, for the moment, seems to be her easiest option and it’s what Soyoung does because ignoring is what she does best.

***

Another week flies past, and on the Thursday, she gets a text from Baekhyun. It’s what she’s been dreading, and Soyoung purposely ignores it for as long as she can. By the time it’s four in the afternoon, the app still shows with the 1 symbol next to it, a constant reminder that Baekhyun is unavoidable.

She wonders if it’s possible to pretend it doesn’t exist for just another hour as she exits the lecture hall because by doing that it means she can pretend to be busy for the day and meet up with him the next, but just as she’s turning for the direction of the dorm, an arm shoots out in front of her and halts her.

Soyoung skids to a stop. She follows the arm, dread already settling, to see Byun Baekhyun leaning against the wall with his other hand in his pocket, an eyebrow raised at her.

“I…” she trails off, at a complete loss for words. “Hi?”

Baekhyun doesn’t look amused. “I texted you.”

Soyoung gulps. “I’ve been in class—”

“You’re holding your phone,” he interrupts. “You can’t tell me you didn’t see the text.”

Soyoung takes a step back from him. “I didn’t,” she lies through her teeth, and Baekhyun obviously doesn’t believe her. People are making their way around them, some glancing and whispering, and the attention is something she wants to run from. It can’t be avoided, though, as long as they’re there—everyone knows Byun Baekhyun, even all the freshmen, and the fact that he’s there is definitely what’s drawing attention.

“Do you have your music?” he asks instead. “I cancelled plans today to practice.”

She doesn’t really want to. The thought of going back to the music room—somewhere that used to be a sanctuary to her—with Byun Baekhyun, who polluted that silence and privacy she liked about the room. Still, it’s a better option than all the attention they’re attracting by standing in the middle of the hallway, and half against her own will, Soyoung nods at him hesitantly.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s tuning her violin to the piano again. Baekhyun plays an absentminded chord, then a G flat major scale. She finishes tuning, sets down her violin, and goes searching for the music. Baekhyun also stops playing on the piano, and the room lapses into an extremely uncomfortable silence. She hopes he doesn’t ask her about why she left, because Soyoung has no idea how to explain it either. You made me uncomfortable with your questions? Even if it was a valid answer, she doesn’t have the courage to ever say it. There’s a couple more things she wants to ask him—why did you come find me? How did you know what class I had? She had thought Baekhyun wanted to avoid wasting his time practicing for something he was forced to do, yet here he was, finding her in advance. Soyoung doesn’t know what to make of it at all.

“Hey,” he says. It’s awkward, way more so than she’s used to coming from him. “I… why did you leave last time?”

Soyoung looks up at him. She hesitates, then stares back down at her bag. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles.

“It’s obviously not.” He’s being persistent again, and she wishes he would just drop it. Problems don’t have to be solved. As long as they’re avoided, they’ll eventually be forgotten, yet Baekhyun keeps bringing it back up. “You don’t just leave like that.” When she still doesn’t reply, he adds, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my questions.”

She actually freezes that time. He’s sitting on the piano bench, facing her, arms still folded across his chest. When Soyoung meets his gaze for the shortest moment, his eyes are surprisingly serious, and it’s almost a strange look on him that she’s not accustomed with. She looks down again a second later. “Let’s just practice,” she ends up saying.

Baekhyun looks like he wants to object because his eyebrows draw together, and Soyoung’s almost completely sure that he’s going to say something else. However, he brings his feet over the bench so he’s facing the piano. “Fine,” he says curtly, and she swears that he almost sounds a bit hurt.

It’s forgotten, though, and they spend the rest of the afternoon working through sections of the piece. They both part in silence, and part of her feels guilty for something, but Soyoung can’t pinpoint what it is so she ends up setting it aside.

***

The next couple of practices go downhill. Both of them have their own parts handled relatively well, but piecing it together seems virtually impossible. By the end of the second practice, the atmosphere gets relative worse between them, and there’s an unspoken sort of tension lingering that more or less interferes with her ability to play properly. Soyoung wants to do something about it, but Baekhyun’s almost scarily quiet and that terrifies her out of saying anything. Little to no words are exchanged, and she suddenly feels like the silence is even worse than the nonstop persistent questions.

She’s tuning her violin in the third practice, exactly three weeks after her first meeting with Byun Baekhyun, when he finally explodes.

Soyoung supposes it really was a miracle he was able to remain silent for so long, but she’s still not expecting it when he suddenly blurts out, “Why do you never say something? Anything?”

Surprised, she lowers her violin. “Pardon?”

“You’re so quiet,” he complains. “And passive. I know you’re a musical prodigy and all, but I can’t—I can’t understand how you do this. Do you even have any friends?”

Soyoung frowns. “Yes?”

“God, I don’t get you,” he continues. “Why don’t you say anything? If I’m making you uncomfortable, why don’t you do anything about it? You…” He shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“What am I supposed to say?” She has no idea how the sentence even comes out, even though she regrets it the moment she says it.

He doesn’t stand down. “I don’t know,” Baekhyun says. “Maybe you’re making me uncomfortable? It’s not that hard, is it? Who do you think I am?”

That’s exactly it, Soyoung concludes. It’s her problem in some parts, but it’s also him—he’s popular, he has the reputation to be a player, he’s talkative and loud and it’s the exact of what she’s comfortable with. The only overlaps of their interests is music, and from what she can see, Baekhyun’s nowhere near as enthusiastic about it as she is. And she wants nothing to do with him. She likes the quiet, going about a daily and weekly schedule that’s unchanging. Even if he considers it boring, there’s freedom. She doesn’t have to fear going home. She can sleep without constant nightmares. She can learn to forget without having to worry about something else to forget about the next day—isn’t that enough? Yet why is he questioning it? Why does it concern him? Perhaps the worst part is that subconsciously, a small part of her wonders too—is it enough?

Yes, Soyoung decides. It has to be.

“Well,” he says. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then whatever. But if you always act like that, don’t you think you’ll get pushed around because of it?”

“I don’t.”

“Whatever.” Baekhyun plays another chord on the piano. “By the way, how long have you been playing violin?”

“Why?”

“It’s just a question,” he shoots back, rolling his eyes. “Just answer it.”

“For five years.”

“Only five?” His eyes are wide. “But you’re really good.”

“I started when I was younger,” she says quietly, trying to ignore the compliment. “And then I stopped and picked it back up in my junior year.”

“How long did you stop for?”

Since my mom remarried, Soyoung thinks, since he stopped me from playing violin. But still, she ends up shrugging. “I don’t remember.” That’s a lie—she does.

Baekhyun obviously doesn’t believe it, but he turns back to the piano like he’s given up trying to get answers out of her. “You’re lucky you pick up things quickly,” he mutters underneath his breath. “Let’s go through the piece again.”

***

“I heard you’re performing a duet with Byun Baekhyun!”

It’s the first time Soyoung has even heard Seulgi sound remotely excited, and she squints at the other girl. She’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, laptop on the side.

Soyoung looks up. “Yeah,” she says cautiously.

“The duet’s basically tradition,” Seulgi continues. “You’re lucky. Everyone in my major is talking about it today. Most of the girls are extremely jealous of you, but then again, none of them are even close to your level to duet with Baekhyun. Some of the guys in my department says he’s lucky because he actually has a chance to talk to you. What’s he like?”

There’s at least three things going on in the six sentences Seulgi has said, and it takes her a moment to even wrap her head around them. Soyoung decides to ignore the first couple. “He’s… talkative,” she manages.

“He’s literally the one everyone’s pining over, you can’t just cover that with talkative. I've only seem him a couple of times and he's pretty cute.”

Soyoung bites her lip. “I… don’t know.”

“What’s your impression of him, then?”

“Talkative,” she repeats as a cautious joke.

To her relief, Seulgi laughs slightly at her. “Okay,” she relents. “Tell me more about him later, then.”

***

Talkative, Soyoung thinks as she heads to the practice room. For some reason, she can’t get the thought out of her head. What is Byun Baekhyun like? It’s strange, but somehow, she can’t put her hand down on exactly what she’d like to describe him as. Too loud, Soyoung would’ve said in the beginning. Annoying, insufferable, he feels more immature than I am. He’s rude. He asks too many questions. He makes me uncomfortable. But for some reason, the more she thinks of it, the more it feels off. Those words aren’t the exact thing she’d use to describe him, not really—yes, Baekhyun is loud, but that’s his personality. Somewhere along the seven times they’ve met up for practice, his questions don’t feel as intrusive as they are curious, even if some of them do still make her uncomfortable. The initial animosity he had had worn off, and though the way he talked was the same, the tone had changed from sarcastic and mocking to more casual. She still doesn’t say much to him, but Baekhyun’s presence feels more like something she can tolerate now when she practices with him on Wednesday and Fridays.

Or maybe she’s just used to it. Whatever the reason, Soyoung doesn’t know, and she tells herself she doesn’t care enough to find out.

***

“Why do you always wear hoodies and jeans?” Baekhyun asks one day. It’s been a month and a half since she’s met him. “Aren’t you hot?”

Self-consciously, Soyoung looks down at her attire. She’s used to it, and it’s mostly what her closet consists of. It’s what she’s most comfortable in, anyway—for some reason, the feeling of having complete coverage even if it’s just clothing—the less exposed she feels, the safer she feels. No one notices her, anyway, and she supposes that it doesn’t really matter what she wears.

She shrugs at him. The piece is coming along nicely—both her and Baekhyun have learned to work together a bit better, and sometimes, Professor Cho drops by to listen. Everything’s quiet, relatively normal, and Soyoung thinks that that’s the best.

“It’s the middle of May,” Baekhyun mutters. “I don’t understand you at all.”

Soyoung draws a long note across her violin. “It’s comfortable,” she replies. He doesn’t ask anymore questions throughout the rest of the practice, right up until she’s packing up her violin and he’s tucking his piano books back into his backpack. One thing she notices is that the spans of silence in between practices and repeats of the song have gone from awkward and uncomfortable to something she’s used to, and Baekhyun’s presence no longer bothers her like it did before. In fact, there’s no longer that twinge of fear she thought was unavoidable when he’s sitting next to her or at what would normally be a proximity too close for comfort.  

“Hey,” he starts, and then stops. Soyoung glances up at him. She’s pretty sure he’s gone through the oddest and awkwardest of questions already, so she can’t imagine that he could say anything worse that he hasn’t said already. There’s a long moment of silence before Baekhyun turns so he was facing her properly, and then he says, “I was thinking we could grab dinner together?”

The silence following his words are even longer. He holds her gaze, and Soyoung can’t bring herself to look away until it’s been way too long after. Abruptly, she rips her eyes back to her violin, and some part her is near-panicking. Dinner, Soyoung thinks. Why is Byun Baekhyun, of all people asking her?

“Soyoung?” he echoes. “It’s getting pretty late and neither of us have eaten—”

“I can’t,” Soyoung interrupts immediately. She slams her violin case, a bit too hard to be natural, and she realizes her hands are trembling. “I have things to do today. Sorry.”

Baekhyun doesn’t even have the chance to say anything and she’s rushing out of the door to the practice room, steps getting faster and faster until she’s basically running. It’s only when she rounds the corner to the direction her dorm is in that she stops running to catch her breath, and Soyoung realizes that her hands are shaking too hard to even hold her case properly.

***

She can’t sleep that night. Head whirling, she repeats Baekhyun’s words over and over to herself in her head, trying to make sense to them, but they don’t, and it’s like trying to piece together pieces of a puzzle that doesn’t belong together in the first place. There’s something bitter lingering that she can’t place her finger on—is it betrayal? Is it anger? Or maybe it’s fear there. Or shame. The more Soyoung thinks about it, the more it seems that it’s a mixture of all of that. What is not the question—she realizes it’s who. Maybe Baekhyun hadn’t meant anything of it—it was just a dinner, anyway. She was just unused to gestures like that from anyone, much less a man. But anger? Fear? Shame? That had nothing to do with Baekhyun or what he said. And as she pulls her shirt over her head, Soyoung catches sight of another one of the scars peeking from the waistband of her pants.

She yanks the shirt over her head harshly.

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