First days pass, then a month. The ebb and flow of time itself appears to speed up after Seulgi’s schedule picks back up again. She’d trained for seven years to become a member of Red Velvet, yet there was another round of training sessions for her to attend in order to hone her skills as a solo idol. Go figure.

        It became harder to see Sooyoung and Yeri throughout the entire process. There were days when Seulgi realized what it truly meant to be alone. For instance, when Seulgi would attempt to think of lyrics to use on her upcoming album, Seungwan wasn’t there for her to ask what the English translation of a word meant.

        When Seulgi was cooking her own meals in the enormous kitchen, Sooyoung wasn’t there to steal scraps of her food off her plate and for how inedible everything looked. When Seulgi attempted to play video games to take her mind off of the stress of work, Yeri wasn’t there as Player Two.

        For a moment, becoming a solo artist made Seulgi feel as if she were almost in exile. Being alone wasn’t exactly new to her, but for a good number of years, Seulgi had grown accustomed to having someone to lean on for support. Red Velvet had provided her with opportunities to gain some of the most vibrant friendships she’s ever had.

        Yet despite the warmth her apartment managed to exude, the walls were still empty of anyone besides herself. It helped that Taeyeon came around to visit her sometimes. Though Seulgi wasn’t as close to the older woman as Yeri was, the two hit it off quite nicely after one day the renowned singer showed up at Seulgi’s doorstep with Ginger in tow.

        She definitely could use the more experienced woman’s help on developing the tone of her album. The leader of Girl’s Generation was someone Seulgi had looked up to ever since she realized her dreams of becoming a singer. Needless to say, she was absolutely overjoyed when she received positive feedback on the work she’d completed so far. She held Taeyeon’s word with the utmost respect, eager to please the older woman.

To Seulgi’s growing delight, she quickly gained more visitors within the same week.

        Yoona came the day after Taeyeon with Seohyun in tow, then Moonbyul, then Jisoo, and so on and so forth. Seulgi quickly learned to keep her apartment in ship-shape in order to not embarrass herself in front of any unexpected company, and always had enough ingredients in her fridge to sate the hunger of five people.

        Around one and a half months had gone by since Seulgi began her soloist training when Yeri invited herself over for an impromptu sleepover. “I want to see how much progress you’ve made,” is what the younger woman had claimed over the phone. “You know how I’ve always been interested in writing my own music, unnie. Now’s my chance to get to see this in action! Besides, I miss you.”

        How could Seulgi say no? Yeri arrived on Seulgi’s front doorstep with an armload of blankets and a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder approximately ten minutes later. When the soloist opened the door, she was met with Yeri’s trademark cheeky grin, and instantly broke out into her own smile. “I see you’ve come prepared,” is all Seulgi said before stepping aside to let Yeri inside.

        They’re silent after dinner, a meal they both prepared together as they giggled and fought the urge to start a food fight in Seulgi’s kitchen. Together, they cuddled on Seulgi’s couch underneath the mountain of fuzzy blankets Yeri brought with her as Seulgi played a couple demos for her album for her off of her phone.

The scent of Irene’s favorite laundry detergent overpowers Seulgi’s senses, fused with the soft fibers of the fabric covering them. If Seulgi closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, she could envision herself wrapped up in Irene’s bed sheets again, as if she’d never left Red Velvet in the first place.

        Forcing her heavy thoughts away, Seulgi turned her head to study the younger woman beside her. Yeri furrows her brows, listening attentively to the early recordings of Seulgi’s album. Nervously, Seulgi looks on, waiting for the younger woman’s reaction. Regardless of how many assurances the soloist had received on the demos, Seulgi still felt the familiar sensation of doubt swirling inside her stomach.

        This was the first time anyone from Red Velvet would be listening to her own work, and that added to the tremors Seulgi was feeling in her hands. There was a pause, then Yeri shook her earbuds off. For a moment, neither of them spoke, suspended by the sound of Yeri dropping Seulgi’s phone onto her lap. The younger woman looked somewhat dazed, adding onto Seulgi’s doubts about the album.

        “Well?” Seulgi asked, tone hopeful yet twinged with a tiny amount of fear. She had held her breath nearly the entire time, her chest felt constricted as she watched Yeri go through each song. She looked over Yeri’s blank expression with great anticipation, trying to decipher any hidden emotion from her poker face. “What did you think about it, Yeri-ah? Up to your expectations?”

        Seulgi’s features contorted into a frown when she noticed a lone tear streaking down Yeri’s cheek. “Saudade…,” Yeri mumbled, fiddling with her phone. “What does it mean?” Gingerly, Seulgi reached out her thumb and swiped the tear away. Yeri looked at her with her wide eyes, waiting for an answer. “Apparently, it’s supposed to convey the sensation you get whenever you feel nostalgic or sad,” Seulgi sighed.

        She ponders for a moment, “I thought it was a good way to describe the way I’ve been feeling lately, and how the song kind of sounds, what the album’s all about, that kind of thing.” Surprisingly, Seulgi finds herself rambling on even further. “It’s just a placeholder for the album name, but I might keep it for this individual song at least.”

        Yeri gazes at her. “I know who it’s about.”

        Another pause. Seulgi feels her breath catching in her lungs, almost refusing to let her inhale and exhale.

        “I didn’t say her name,” Seulgi replies, struggling to maintain her indifference to the allusion of Irene. “You didn’t have to,” Yeri retorts. “The mention of a wedding gave it away.”

        Seulgi cleared . Her eyes glistened. “I’m proud of you, unnie,” Yeri says at last, her voice barely above a whisper. She’s smiling now, positively beaming at Seulgi.

        Both of them are crying now. “I think you should keep the name. You’ve done an amazing job at translating what it feels like to be in love and then fall out of it.”

        **

        It’s almost midnight on December 31st, and Seulgi’s album is set to be released the millisecond after the ball drops.

        She’s watching the countdown with a nervous energy jittering about her, surrounded by the throng of friends and family within the living room of her apartment. How so many people could fit into her studio apartment, Seulgi would never understand.

        How most of the people she invited showed up, she will also never understand. She’s just glad she’d packed the fridge full of food and the guests arrived with nearly enough dessert and bottles of liquor to pass around for days on end.

        Just after the countdown hits zero and everyone around her erupts into a disarray of loud yelling, whooping, clinking of glasses, and laughing - Seulgi hears the front door bell ring. “Happy New Year!” Someone screams into her ear, and she can’t help but giggle. She’d already had a few glasses of celebratory wine herself and was feeling giddy.

        The nervousness about her album release had been washed away with every cup she’d downed. She was with her friends. She was in a better place than she had been. She had gotten over Irene and started anew. This year is going to be different, Seulgi had thought to herself.

        Carefully, the soloist picks her way through the apartment. She dodges high-fives aimed for other people and tries to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes. Vaguely, she hears people shouting her name, beckoning her back to the living room for another drink.

        “I’ll be right back!” She calls out before she turns the front door knob. “Just have to check up on something, first!” Perhaps someone had called a pizza place earlier, or maybe it was one of her neighbors asking her to dial down the noise. Seulgi was prepared for every scenario except for this one.

She never would have expected Irene to be standing there, shivering on her front door step. The older woman is swathed in thick layers of black thermal gear and flannel. She peers up at Seulgi from behind her thick wool scarf, squinting her eyes against the sting of the wind.

        “What the -” Seulgi reaches out for Irene’s shoulder without any hesitation and drags the half-frozen woman into her foyer, shutting the door behind her. Overwhelmed with worry, she cupped a hand to the older woman’s frigid cheek. “It’s below freezing out here!” Seulgi exclaimed in a hushed voice, gazing at the bluish tint of Irene’s skin.

        She didn’t want anyone to stumble across her and Irene just quite yet, and glanced uneasily over her shoulder. “Did you walk here or something? I didn’t see the van or anything...god, Irene what were you thinking?” Irene merely stared at her, lips slightly parted, eyes unfocused. “Jesus. You’ve turned into a living popsicle.”

        And then the older woman leaned in close. The familiar, almost comforting aroma of Irene filled Seulgi’s nostrils - strong fabric softener and a hint of perfume. Her gasp came of its own accord when Irene’s lips grazed against hers. What was happening?

        A shock ran up and then down her spine. Irene was cold, freezing at that. Irene’s lips felt like hard ice, but Seulgi quickly warmed them up. They were kissing as if nothing had ever happened between them, as if the past few months had never happened, as if the engagement ring grazing Seulgi’s cheek actually meant something.

        Without even thinking, Seulgi leaned in close, crushing her body against Irene, opening hungrily to receive the older woman’s kiss. At first, Irene was gentle and patient. Her kisses came slow and languid, as if they had all the time in the world despite the possibility that anyone could come stumbling around the corner and find them together.

        It felt like Irene was trying to put as much emotion as she could through the kiss, grasping at Seulgi’s neck and running a hand over the small of her back. But it didn’t take long for the gentleness to give way for something else, something needier and hotter and more breathtaking. Seulgi’s mind was washed away with the tide of want. She had missed Irene, but she couldn’t have predicted how easily she fell back into the older woman’s advances.

        With hazy thoughts, Seulgi began pressing kisses to Irene’s ivory throat. She smiled at the way Irene’s fingers carded through her hair, tugging her closer, needing her closer than ever before. A sound, low and throaty, rose up out of Irene’s mouth and rang in Seulgi’s ears when she’d bitten down ever so slightly on the older woman’s neck.

        It was that sound that finally snapped the soloist out of her lust ridden mind, and she parted from Irene as if she’d been shot. “W-what was that?” Seulgi gasped, backing up until she came in contact with the wall. It was a mistake, but neither of them said it out loud. Irene stood before her, panting, shoulders rising and falling in a quick tempo. There was a darkness pooling in Irene’s eyes and something warm spreading throughout out Seulgi’s body.

        It had been a moment of weakness for the both of them - a reminder of just how perfectly they paired together and yet how much Irene had hurt her, how much pain had been inflicted on her. Seulgi was torn in between throwing the older woman back out into the midnight snow and dragging her down into her bed for the night.

        She frowned at how easily she’d given in to Irene’s touch, her mesmerizing kiss. It upset her how quickly her body had learned to forget everything. If it hadn’t been for Irene’s moan reminding her of where they were and what they were, would Seulgi have been able to stop herself at all?

        “Happy New Year, Seulgi-ah,” Irene murmured at last. Without looking back, the older woman reached for the front door knob, pulled it open, and let herself back out into the night without another word. In a daze, Seulgi touched two fingers to her lips, wondering if Irene had been there at all.

        With her other hand, she smoothed out her mussed hair and cleared of the lump that had formed there. Then, acting as though nothing had ever happened, she stepped back into the living room, hoping she looked at least a tiny bit more collected than she had been, and rejoined her celebrating friends.

        “Hey, where did you go?” Sooyoung slurred in a soft voice, tugging Seulgi down onto the couch beside her. Someone passed Seulgi a freshly poured glass of champagne, and she took a grateful gulp of the bubbling liquid. “Hyoyeon was challenging you to a round of shots but we couldn’t find you.”

        “Just had to step out for some fresh air for a sec,” Seulgi reassured them. Her voice was too high pitched and was shaking slightly, but everyone was either too drunk to notice or chalked it up to nerves over the release of Saudade. A hand clapped itself over her shoulder, causing her to jump in her seat.

        “Don’t worry, unnie,” Yeri piped up from behind the sofa. She removed her hand from Seulgi’s shoulder and plopped down on the cushion next to her, grinning over at her and Sooyoung. Seulgi didn’t fight the urge to smile back. Yeri was always the optimistic kind of drunk, her favorite. “Your album’s going to sell out. I guarantee it.”

        At this Seulgi smile became a little thin, and she proceeded to down the rest of her champagne. Her mind was drifting back to Irene, to the way the older woman had desperately clung to her one moment and then the next was out the door.

        She wondered how Irene had gotten away from Seungwan’s sight long enough to come over, how Irene got her address in the first place, why Irene had even done such a thing in the first place. The beginnings of a headache were radiating in the back of her skull.

        Too many questions and not enough answers. On top of that, Seulgi knew she was about to get roaring wasted, determined not to think about the occurrence until morning. With a sigh, she poured herself another glass and felt both of her former bandmates eyes trained on her. “I hope you’re right, Yeri-ah,” Seulgi murmur