"How quickly jealous I become of the wind when it, and not I, gets the privilege of properly messing up your hair."

- Tyler Knott Gregson

It is your second attempt at making salted caramel cupcakes and so far, you don’t feel confident about it. You checked the recipe,  examine the measurements and followed the directions but somehow the final products still lack something.

“Unnie, we might get diabetes if you keep this up,” Yeri says yet she continues gnawing what’s left of the first batch of cupcakes you made.

“It’s already good, unnie.” Saeron, Yeri’s girlfriend, says before taking another bite from Yeri’s cupcake. “How many are you planning to make?”

“Until I perfect the whole thing,” you answer grumpily. You take out another batch and feed it to the young couple. “It’s too salty.”

Saeron smells the cupcake first before taking one and getting a taste. “It’s not that bad,” she comments. But you don’t believe her. She looks the type of person that wants to be nice all the time even if it means she lies.

Yeri, on the other hand, can be brutally honest. Maybe you can trust her judgment. Maybe.

“Honestly, unnie, you need to calm down.” Yeri grabs your arm and pulls you on the chair to sit down. “These are all good and Joy-unnie will like them just fine. You know that giant will eat anything! She’s not exactly a food critic!”

“That giant is my girlfriend,” you pout. “It’s our 100 day anniversary. I want to give her something good.”

“But these cupcakes are good though,” Saaeron assures you.

“It doesn’t taste and look like they’re good enough.”

“I will break Joy-unnie’s jaw if she doesn’t find these cupcakes delicious. Mark my words, Son Seungwan.” Yeri points her index finger at you. Saeron is quick in smacking the back of her girlfriend’s head. “Yah! What was that for?”

“You’re not helping, midget.”

You let out a laugh as you watch the two bicker in your kitchen. Perhaps it’s time to take a break before making another batch. You make sure you’ll get it right the next time.

You remove the apron and go to the living room where you find Irene curled up on the couch and reading a book. She has her hair down just enough to cover her face and the book. Was she even reading?

But then you notice the rise and fall of her shoulders and the quiet muffled sobs.

Is she crying?

“Hey,” you say softly, sliding in next to her. “What are you reading, unnie?”

Irene wipes off her tears with the sleeve of her sweater before showing you the cover page of the book. Stop Being Jealous and Insecure by James Umber. You shoot her a strange look.

“Since when did you need to read something like that?” You ask.

“Since Seulgi threw this on my bed last night,” she replies bitterly.

Oh. So that explains the yelling from their room last night. You usually hear at night but well, you were not complaining last night. Not really.

Irene puts the book down on the coffee table. She faces you and now you see her tired puffy eyes that you can only guess is a result of crying all night.

“Wendy, am I boring?” She asks all of a sudden, desperation in her tone.

“What?”

“Am I boring? Like … in general, am I a boring person?”

You knit your eyebrows. Honestly, how can Irene even think she’s boring when, out of the five people you live with, she was the first one that caught your attention?

“Unnie, you’re not boring.” You mean it. Irene is a lot of things but boring is not one them.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am very much sure.”

“Am I too old then?”

Your eyes bug out at the question. “What?”