“Aah—” just as I was starting to whine at my game suddenly being shuffled off the screen, the caller identification screen caused me to shoot up into a sitting position on my bed. “Hi Tiffany!” I greeted her after accepting the call, voice hoarse from not having been used yet today.

              “Did you just wake up, Taeyeon?” Tiffany laughed from the other side.

              “No!” I whined, “I just haven’t used my voice at all today,” I replied, cautious in exposing my lazy habit to her: she didn’t need to know another one of my flaws.

              “I’m almost there, ok?”

              I shot out of my bed, the blanket flying off the mattress. “Wh-What? Where?”  And despite being the one asking the question, I had a good idea I knew exactly where she was coming. I silently prayed that it wouldn’t be what I thought it was, but of course, it wasn’t answered.

              “Your house, of course. Where else?” she said, adding a musical giggle at the end of the sentence.

              “Wait! Wait wait wait,” I said in rapid succession, turning the speaker on and setting it on the nightstand next to my bed. “Can’t you wait for a bit? I’m still in my pajamas.” The words came out of my mouth so quickly, it was only after I started folding my blanket before I realized that I had inadvertently revealed the fact that I was in my bed for a long time.

              “What were you doing in your bed all day?” she questioned in a teasing voice. “Where you thinking about me? Oh!” I knew from the way she said that one word that nothing good could come of continuing to listen to her. I smoothed my bedsheet as quickly as I could before running to my phone. “Were you mastur—” click.

              I breathed a sigh of relief. Admittedly, I felt guilty for just hanging up on my girlfriend like that, but it was better than the alternative. Plus, Tiffany was used to me interrupting her whenever she wanted to say something suggestive like that.

              Tiffany didn’t call back, which I took as a bad sign as it probably meant that she was just minutes away. I grabbed an outfit from my closet and washed up more quickly than I ever have in my entire life; in the middle of applying some light makeup, the doorbell rang.

              “Fany, give me just one minute,” I shouted, doing some finishing touches before fast-walking to the door.

              I swung the door open without a second of hesitation, and on the other side stood a beaming Tiffany, bag in hand. “Was it fun?” was the first thing she asked, which I didn’t grant a reply. She just smiled before continuing with, “Aah, my girlfriend is as adorable as ever~” practically singing the words out as she gracefully stepped inside.

              I found myself unable to reply, setting a pair of slippers on the ground for her. Ever since we became a couple, I noticed that Tiffany made it a point to say something like this nearly every time we met. Perhaps it would have been a small thing to someone else, but it meant the world to me: it was a daily validation to me that told me Tiffany still liked me and still wanted to be my girlfriend. Maybe that just came naturally to Tiffany, but her greeting me like that every day saved me just a little bit more from myself.

              “What’s in the bag?” I inquired as I walked into the kitchen.

              “It’s a surprise,” she replied, setting it down against the sofa in the living room before joining me in the kitchen. The bad premonitions I had about it apparently showed, as Tiffany giggled as I started taking some yogurt from the refrigerator. “You don’t intend to go back on your word, do you?”

              “What do you mean?” I continued, hoping dearly it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.

              “You promised you would model some lingerie for me, right?”

              The tip of my ears exploded in a burst of heat as I shuffled into the kitchen area. “U-Uh, did I?” I said despite very clearly remembering it, and surely enough, now regretting it. What was I thinking? There was only a chance that Tiffany would force me to try on some lingerie in that shop—no matter how likely the possibility was, it still wasn’t the 100 percent chance of making that promise. Stupid, stupid Taeyeon.

              “Of course, I intend to hold my end of the bargain too and will be trying them out with you.”

              Taeyeon, you absolute genius. You absolute genius. Taking the offer was only logical; in fact, I would’ve been insane to not take the offer. How many people can claim to be as privileged as I to have seen a scantily clad Tiffany in her life?

              “Did you eat breakfast yet?”

              Tiffany sat down when I turned around to ask her the question. “No,” she replied innocently.

              “Fany! You should eat breakfast!” I scolded her, re-opening the refrigerator, “Do you like yogurt?”

              Tiffany thought about it for a second before saying, “Only if you feed it to me.”

              A laugh escaped my lips in response. “Sure,” I giggled, extracting a cup from the shelf in the fridge. “Do you normally eat breakfast?”

              “Not really,” she replied nonchalantly. “I usually wake up late enough that I eat lunch instead of breakfast. Plus, ever since high school, it felt weird eating more than two meals a day.”

              I huffed. “Well you aren’t only eating two meals on my watch. Make sure to come here every morning for breakfast, ok?”

              When Tiffany didn’t immediately respond, I turned around to look at her. Tiffany was just sitting there, giving me a sort of look of awe, like I had just said something especially significant or profound. For some reason, her gaze suddenly caused an uneasy, self-conscious feeling to stir within me, another blush creeping up my cheeks. “What?”

              Tiffany shook her head. “No, it’s just…” she trailed off as she scooted her chair back to stand up. I started to grow a bit more uneasy when Tiffany started walking towards me.

              “F-Fany?” I stumbled over my words, feeling the blush overtake more and more of my face. Damn it, just when I was starting to gain such good control over this sort of thing … why was this happening again?

              Tiffany stopped in front of me, grasping my hands tightly. I could feel her warm palm against my own, her soft fingers intertwining within my fingers; Tiffany leaned forward in the blink of an eye, and though I knew what was happening, I found myself unable to move. It was like the time was both at a stand-still and in fast-forward: my breath got caught in the back of my throat, my eyes wide open in surprise, my lips slightly parted, my muscles tensed, and an electric shock sending a tingling feeling throughout my entire body as Tiffany’s soft lips touched mine.

              However, it ended as quickly as it started, a fact which I found myself disappointed at, followed promptly by embarrassment for thinking such a thing.

              “Marry me, Taeyeon.”

              Just when I thought that Tiffany’s peck on my lips wasn’t enough, her words combined with the sincere smile on her face caused such an eruption of red on my face, I felt like I was about to pass out at any second.

              “Wh-Wha-Wha—” I stammered helplessly, my brain having shut off at this point. I honestly couldn’t tell if she was just joking as she always did or she was seriously proposing to me. It can’t be … but did Tiffany usually look this serious when teasing me? I mean, even if we wanted to, we couldn’t get married in South Korea, we’d have to—

              Tiffany giggled, a sound so beautiful that it kickstarted my stalling brain. “I can’t believe you’re so cute, Taeyeon, it should actually be illegal. How could I have gotten you as my girlfriend?”

              “No, it’s—” I was promptly cut off as Tiffany quickly leaned in, stealing another peck from my lips before reestablishing the distance between our faces. That action caught me so off-guard that it promptly shut me up, which seemed to be the desired effect as Tiffany gave me one last smile before removing herself from me.

              It was only then that I realized what position we were in; I was leaning against the marble counter immediately next to the sink, nearly sitting on it, my arms pushed back with the back of my hands laid out on either side of my body, my heels well above the floor, my toes desperately supporting the rest of my body. It seemed like it was ripped right out of a Korean drama or something … but weren’t those unrealistic?

              “Wha-What was that for?” I huffed, turning back around.

              “Nothing~” she replied in a sing-song voice. “Can I really come every morning for breakfast?”

              “Of course,” I replied, “My parents usually leave for work really early in the morning, so you don’t have to worry about them.”

              “Ooh, so you’re telling me to come over to your house when your parents aren’t home?”

              “Yah Fany, do you want me to feed you or not?”

              “I’m sorry, I take it back,” she answered, dejected.

              I pulled a chair next to her and set the two cups of yogurt sprinkled with almonds on the table along with two spoons. “You want the strawberry flavored one, right?”

              She nodded enthusiastically. “You know me so well, TaeTae~”

              I found myself smiling, setting the other cup to the side. “Here you go,” I said, scooping a spoonful of the yogurt and bringing it to . Honestly, that I was feeding my girlfriend her breakfast like this was a bit ridiculous to me, but the cuteness of Tiffany’s eagerness drowned out the notion.

              After we finished our breakfast, I attempted to stall a bit longer by claiming that I needed to fix up my makeup a bit more, but when Tiffany offered to change my makeup to better suit the clothes— ‘clothes’—that we would be trying on, I conceded and joined her in the living room.

              “Ok, so this one’s the first one,” she said, retrieving something from the bag. My heart was pounding against my ribcages, so much so that I feared Tiffany would be able to hear it; however, when she pulled out the two-piece, I breathed a sigh of relief.

              It looked like a workout outfit or something: it was essentially a light grey sports bra with a neon green border, accompanying it something too small to be called ‘shorts’ but too big to be called ‘underwear’ of matching color scheme. Although it was still a little embarrassing, it was much, much better than what I had expected of her. Even if all the other ones were much smaller, I was thankful for Tiffany to start off slowly.

              “Here,” she said, handing me the outfit, “I always thought you’d look y if you donned a sporty look.”

              I grabbed the fabric and turned around to preemptively hide my blush, amazed at myself when I found that my face hadn’t reacted like it normally did. Maybe I was making progress after all…

              “I’ll be right out,” I announced, heading into the bathroom with the outfit. Tiffany nodded excitedly, just about bouncing off the edge of the couch she was seated on.

              A smile found itself on my face as I closed the door behind me. I really couldn’t understand what the allure—if that was even the right word—was in seeing me in something like lingerie. Someone with a better body, like Jessica, would be a better choice for sure.

              After I finished changing, I examined myself. As expected, I didn’t find the outfit particularly suited towards my body type; this would definitely look better on Tiffany. When I reached for the bathroom door to exit, the top of the two-piece shifted, falling slightly. I frowned, reaching around my back to adjust it, quickly realizing what the problem was.

              It was too loose.

              “Ah, really,” I lamented at my poor luck, sinking to my knees. Did Mother Nature really have to rub it into my face any more than She already has? If it was Tiffany or Jessica, I bet it would fit perfectly. Why did my assets have to be so lacking?

              I stood back up, inspecting the outfit in the mirror again, that thought lingering in my head. Tiffany … actually, it looked like this would fit Tiffany perfectly. Not that I would particularly know or that I spent a lot of time staring at—anyway, it wasn’t that surprising for Tiffany to own an outfit such as this. After all, she had to have some way to maintain such a nice body, and exercise certainly would do the trick.

              That wasn’t the thing I concerned myself with. The thing was … were all the pieces of lingerie in the bag previously owned by her? If so, why would she own so much if she said that she was single the entire time she’s been in Korea? Maybe she’s just been on dates and worn these for when they go … no, it’s not healthy to have these kinds of thoughts, Taeyeon. I’ve established this already: it’s ok for Tiffany to have her own secrets, and she’ll reveal them when she’s ready. Forcing her, either by pressing the issue myself or some other kind of extraneous circumstance, was probably the worst way to go about learning about everything.

              That was plainly obvious with what happened yesterday. Honestly, I was more of a bystander—a victim of Yeseul’s plot to play cupid in middle school—but the bulk of the recent drama seemed to involve Leeteuk and Yoona more than all three of us, unlike back then.

              I shook my head, ridding my mind of those thoughts. After all, I had more pressing concerns at the moment, like mentally preparing myself to emerge from this enclosed space.

              Tiffany’s over-the-top reaction buried my embarrassment when I stepped into my living room.

              “Oh my gosh, wow Taeyeon, you look so good!”

              “Really?” I situated myself in the middle of the living room, twirling in a circle. “I don’t know, I don’t think my body type is suited for this kind of outfit.”

              “No, you look great! I could just eat you up—”

              “If you continue that sentence, this is going to be my last outfit I try on for you.”             Tiffany pouted, reluctantly silencing herself. I chuckled, adjusting the top again. “Fany, did these belong to you? It’s a little loose for me.”

              “Hm?” Tiffany responded, looking directly at me, “Yeah, that outfit was mine. I used it to exercise back in—well, some time ago.”

              It was a rare sight: Tiffany somehow seemed to be on the verge of panicking during that whole sentence, but managing to not fumble once. Was she just embarrassed that she doesn’t exercise anymore? If that was the case, what did that make a homebody like me?

              “You should show me what you did: I haven’t ever actively decided to exercise before,” I said, hoping it would provide some reassurance to her.

              “Ooh, yeah we should,” she replied, her anxiety—or whatever it was—vanishing, already reaching into the bag for the next outfit.

              “Fany, aren’t you going to be trying on some of the outfits too?” I said, worry starting to creep back into my system.

              “Ah, I figured I would let you try on a few more first since you’re more clean,” she replied.

              What? What did ‘more clean’ mean? Did she just not shower recently and felt embarrassed by it?

              “If you want to shower, then you can just use the one over there,” I told her, pointing in the direction of my bathroom.

              “Hm? Shower?” she said, evidently confused. “What do—oh!” her eyes widened as if she had suddenly realized something. “What, do you think I don’t shower regularly?”

              I felt embarrassed by my own words. What was I thinking? Of course Tiffany showered regularly; but then, what did those words mean?

              “B-But you said, like, ‘more clean’ or something, right?” I stammered in response.

              This time, Tiffany looked more surprised than anything, as if she had just realized what she said. “Ah, I meant that your skin is nicer and paler than mine, so I thought you would look better in these outfits than me, so I figured I would just take the time to enjoy the eye-candy first before joining you.”

              There it was again, and twice in a few minutes no less: she sounded on the verge of panicking but somehow didn’t stutter even once. While it was slightly concerning, I couldn’t help being impressed with her: was she practiced in public speaking or something?

              “Oh, well I don’t know if I can really be considered ‘eye candy’,” I said, gasping as Tiffany pulled out the next two-piece.

              It was a dark red set with lacy black frillings on the edges, the top and bottom piece both triangular in shape and both sinfully small. Before I could stop myself, I started picturing Tiffany in the lingerie, perhaps because of my assumption earlier regarding the previous owner of this ‘clothing’, quickly pinching myself to regain my composure.

              “Um, I’m supposed to wear that?”

              Tiffany nodded eagerly. “This is what I meant when I said I was eager to see you try on a few more outfits because of your skin being whiter than mine: the sharp contrast in the colors really brings out the iness in the outfit, I think.”

              “B-But that can barely be considered clothing!”

              Tiffany pouted at my response. “Taeyeon, but you said … you said you would do this, right?”

              I instantly felt my will crumble in the face of my girlfriend’s aegyo. “Fine,” I conceded, receiving the outfit from Tiffany’s outstretched hands. Who did she think she was, being able to control me by making that kind of face and consequently being even more adorable in her kid-like excitement. Just because it worked on me as a kid doesn’t mean it has to work on me as an adult too; in fact, shouldn’t it work less now that I was older?

              In the process of changing, a thought once again lingered in my head. Now that I thought about it, that person from when I was younger was remarkably similar to Tiffany, wasn’t she? Well, only in their smiles, but still, it was a very particular smile that not many other people had.

              But not even that could distract me long enough, and before long, I was finished changing into the unnervingly revealing outfit. In general, the fabric was soft and comfortable (I had to take extra care to tighten the top piece as much as it could be tightened), but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of having so much of my skin around my s and exposed. My hands would automatically travel to the bottom piece and tug at it, only remembering after the fact that there was no more of the fabric I could use to cover anything else.

              I ended up spending around ten minutes just fidgeting in front of the mirror, doing this awkward dance of trying to adjust the lingerie around to cover more of my skin, knowing full well that they were already doing the most they could ever do.

              “TaeTae,” Tiffany called from the other side of the door for the fourth time, “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

              “I’m fine!” I shouted back, lying through my teeth.

              “How about this: I’ll join you after this one, and you get to pick which one I wear.”

              That was all the encouragement I needed. I steeled my nerves, took a few deep breaths, and emerged from the bathroom.

              Tiffany was peeking around the corner into the hallway leading to the living room, her eyes lighting up as soon as her eyes landed on me. A shiver traveled down my spine as I watched Tiffany’s eyes scan my body three, four times before she simply just said, “Wow.”

              “C-Can I change out now?” I said, my hands attempting to hide what little cleavage I had.

              “Wait,” she replied quickly, biting her lower lip.

              A few seconds of silence followed in which Tiffany just stared at me, a feeling of unease gradually building up until I finally said, “I don’t think this kind of thing suits me; wouldn’t someone like Sica be better for this?”

              “Hm?” Tiffany responded after another few seconds of silence. “Oh, speaking of Jessi, have you seen her recently?”

              I shook my head. “I’ve texted her, but she’s always saying the same thing about thinking and being busy. I think she got over the shock of learning what happened to you and feels guilty, and I try to tell her that I can help her, but she always tells me that I shouldn’t do that now that I have a girlfriend.”

              “Oh? You told her that we’re a couple?”

              I felt panic seize my body for a brief second, the tension dissipating as I watched Tiffany still maintaining that smile in her eyes. “Yeah, sorry for not telling you.”

              She giggled. “What are you apologizing for? Come on, let’s pick out each other’s next set,” she said, making a come-hither with her hands. “I get to pick this one though,” she said, quickly pulling one out as I sat myself next to her.

              “Wha—” the tips of my ears exploded in a burst of heat for the second time that day as my eyes landed on Tiffany’s choice. “Wha-Wha-What is that?” I yelled in shock out of pure embarrassment. How could something as small as that be even considered … anything? Wasn’t that just a lazy way to spend minimal amounts of fabric for lots of money?

              As Tiffany opened to explain, my phone burst to life. I dove for it, relieved to have some form of distraction, not even bothering to identify the caller—at this point, I would welcome even spam callers with open arms—and received the call.

              “Hello?”

              “Tae-Taeyeon…”

              Jessica’s voice came through from the other side of the phone, but was rendered nearly unidentifiable by a panicked sobbing.

              “Sica? What’s wrong?” I inquired, feeling my emotion change rapidly from abashed to worried.

              “Taeng-Taengoo, I’m sorry…” she continued. I couldn’t help it when I felt my heart sink to the pit of my stomach.

              “Sica,” I replied in as gentle of a voice as I could muster, “It’s ok. Do you want me to come over? What happened?”

              “I-I couldn’t stop him,” she continued, still crying from the other end of the line. “I tried, but I didn’t know he already had someone, and I couldn’t stop him, I’m so sorry,” she rattled on, barely stopping to breathe. In the few years that I’ve known Jessica, I’ve never heard her like this: not when she was drunk, or when she failed an exam, or ever. Not even close. “I-I wanted to support your relationship, but I wasn’t smart enough and…and…”

              Jessica stopped, taking a shaky breath. I used this chance to interject, “Sica, I believe you. Tell me, what happened?”

              “He-He’s coming over. Tiffany’s dad … he-he’s coming to Korea.”

Oh , Tiffany’s dad? He’s coming to Korea? Why? What will this mean?

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