how does this just get worse and worse jesus 
hi its been 2 months didnt write anything for most of those two months bc i wasnt satisfied w/the way this story is going
anyway heres a bop
also spoiler alert sanas a dont get ur hopes up :/

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    Momo can’t help but feel excited. It’s the first time she’ll be seeing Nayeon in almost two weeks. She grips the straps of her backpack firmly, looking around to see if anyone else is around before allowing herself an unabashed grin and skipping down the winding path through the park on the way to Nayeon’s house.

    In almost the exact same way that Mina had begun thinking of Momo, Momo had always thought of Nayeon. She loved Nayeon as much as her heart had the capacity to. And it was easy. Through thick and thin, Nayeon had been beside her, had loved her too (although it was a little different).
“Nayeonnie, you don’t have to keep getting hurt for me,” Momo pouts, dabbing at the stains left on Nayeon’s uniform, the remainders of today’s lunch special, intended for Momo, that she had intercepted.
Nayeon laughs, “I would do anything for my Momo.”
How Momo’s heart swells.
It is obvious though, that Nayeon doesn’t think of her the same way (never did, never would). The way she stares at Minatozaki Sana tells Momo everything she needs to know. She thinks Nayeon is an absolute fool. For Nayeon to be infatuated with the very person who humiliates and harasses her is a fool’s gamble if Momo has ever seen one. Minatozaki Sana sickens her to no end. She is, essentially, at her very core, a raging . It’s just like all those American high school movies she’s seen: Minatozaki Sana, head in charge, flanked by her lackeys, Jihyo and Mina, with the whole school ready to grovel at and kiss their feet at a moment’s notice. But if it makes Nayeon happy to be treated like an insect on the bottom of Sana’s shoe, what can Momo do? She simply watches as Nayeon turns her pain into joy and wonders if she’ll ever be able to do the same.
“She noticed me again, Momo,” Nayeon says quietly, a stupid smile on her face as she sits on the floor, leaning against the cold metal of her locker.
Momo frowns as she reaches into her bag for a bandaid, “she sure did.”
“You must think I’m ridiculous,” Nayeon laughs at Momo’s unfading frown.
“You are,” Momo sighs.
Nayeon hums, “I know. But—” she winces as Momo pastes the bandaid on her bloodied knee, “I still like her. And I like it when she notices me, you know?”
“Yeah,” Momo exhales, even though she doesn’t quite agree with Nayeon’s sentiments.
Still, she is patient, and she waits. She waits for Nayeon to notice her as she lives and breathes right before her very eyes.

    She has always loved everything about Nayeon. From her front teeth to her (not really that) freakishly large hands and feet, her messy hair and her ridiculously thick glasses, Momo loves everything. She loves it when Nayeon’s big hands wrap around her own tiny ones, she loves it when Nayeon looks like her hair has never met with a brush before, she loves it when Nayeon takes off her glasses and squints at everything because it’s all a blur to her, and she loves it when it’s just her and Nayeon, like it’s always been for as long as she can remember. Maybe it’s because it has always been just her and Nayeon for so long that Momo can only imagine a future with Nayeon; because it’s so easy, and so comfortable, and nothing could possibly make more sense than that.

    She bounds up the front steps of Nayeon’s house excitedly. Wiping her damp, clammy hands on her shorts, she knocks. She shouldn’t be nervous. It’s not as if this is the first time she’s been over to Nayeon’s house; in fact it was quite the opposite. She was at Nayeon’s house every other day, and the two of them would study, do homework, watch movies, and Momo would listen as Nayeon gushed about Minatozaki Sana. There’s no answer, so Momo knocks again. This time she hears shuffling from inside the house. But there’s still no answer.
“Nayeon?”
Someone clears their throat from behind the door, but still, it doesn’t open.
Momo rolls her eyes, “Nayeon, I know you’re there.”
“H-hey Momo,” comes Nayeons muffled voice from behind the door.
“Are you ever going to open the door?”
Nayeon hesitates, “o-okay but—promise you won’t laugh at me?”
“What are you talking about? Why would I—”
“Momo!” Nayeon cuts her off, “promise!”
Momo sighs, “okay fine! I won’t laugh! Just open the door, Nayeon!”
The door swings open, and Momo can barely breathe, let alone laugh if she wanted to.
“O-oh my god—N-nayeon—y-you—”

    Pretty.

    Nayeon can only ever remember being called pretty by her mother and relatives (and maybe Momo). She knows that they only really say it out of obligation. Because if she really was pretty, why doesn’t Minatozaki Sana like her? Why is every single day hell? Why—
“Nayeon, we’re leaving, okay?” her mother calls out from just outside the door.
“Okay! Bye!” she yells back from her room on the other side of the house.
She listens for the sound of the door shutting. When she hears it, she jumps into action. Sticking an arm blindly into the dark void that exists beneath her bed, she searches for the box she’s been hiding. She makes a face at all the dust she picks up in doing so. Dusting off the box, she holds it in her lap and takes a deep breath. This is it. Thing’s are going to change now—at least, that’s how it went in The Princess Diaries, right? All she has to do is…become…pretty, right? She opens the box and looks at its contents: a hair straightener, foundation, a bunch of other tubes of products she’s only ever heard of from the mouths of other girls fixing themselves up in the bathrooms. It’s a little overwhelming. So she gets her laptop out. How to makeup—that’s what she types into the search bar. 

    From there on out its nothing but confusion. Why would anyone do this? she thinks to herself, after having burnt herself with the flat iron. It’s the same thought that arises as she tries to blink back the tears that pool in her eyes as she plucks the stray hairs from her eyebrows, the same thought that arises when she just about stabs her eyes out trying to get the contacts to sit comfortably. When she thinks she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror.
“This is ridiculous,” she mutters to herself.
Reaching for a baby wipe, she sighs. She takes one last look at her reflection before she wipes it all away. She’ll try again tomorrow.

    And the day after that.

    (and the day after that.)

    Nayeon looks…different…to say the least. Momo can barely form words.
Biting her lip, Nayeon asks with a quivering voice, is it…that bad?”
“N-no!” Momo denies vehemently.
“Then…” Nayeon averts her gaze from Momo’s shocked expression, “do you like it?”
Momo swallows. If she’s honest, the answer is no. Sure, Nayeon looks beautiful, but Momo hates it. She hates that Nayeon thinks that this is what she has to do to be pretty—as if she wasn’t the prettiest person in the world already (maybe Momo is being a little biased). She sees the way Nayeon fidgets with her fingers; sees the way she shifts her weight from foot to foot; sees that maybe she wasn’t being so honest in the first place, and that of course she likes it. It’s Nayeon, for crying out loud. Of course she likes it.
So she nods, “I love it.”
It’s the closest she’ll ever get to a confession. The way Nayeon beams at her soothes the pain that creeps up from beneath her.
“Really?”
Momo grins, “of course! I didn’t know you were this pretty,” she gushes as Nayeon pulls her inside.
Maybe Nayeon thinks she doesn’t hear it, but Momo catches the soft, “me either,” that she breathes out.

    It’s hard to concentrate on the homework she’s supposed to be doing when Nayeon is out here looking like that.
“Alright, Momo, I know I’m pretty, but stop staring,” Nayeon teases when she catches Momo staring for the fifth time.
Momo whines, “I wasn’t! And don’t flatter yourself.”
“Don’t you think I’m pretty, Momo?” Nayeon asks petulantly.
Momo’s heart shoots up into as Nayeon pushes into her space and pouts. Nayeon smells like an English flower garden (although, truth be told, she has absolutely no idea what an English flower garden smells like, but it sounds like it would smell nice). With full lips so close to her face, Momo’s head starts spinning. How are they so glossy? Is that glitter? It smells so good. Nayeon is so pretty.
“You’re so pretty, Nayeon,” she says breathlessly, forgetting herself for a second and letting her gaze linger on Nayeon’s lips for longer than it should.
Nayeon looks right into her eyes for a moment and she’ worries that she’s been found out.
Then she smiles, “you sound like you have a crush on me.”
Momo knows Nayeon is just teasing her, but she still freaks out a little on the inside.
“Shut up!” she huffs, shoving Nayeon away as she wills herself to act as normally as possible.
Nayeon bursts out into raucous laughter at Momo’s indignation.
“Shut up!” Momo whines again, “I would never have a crush on you! You’re not even that great!”
Liar.
Still, Nayeon cackles, and Momo swings at her with a cushion, striking her square on the face.
“Hey! My makeup! Do you know how long that took?!” Nayeon snaps, wresting the cushion from Momo’s grip and returning the blow in kind.
Soon enough, they’re tumbling about Nayeon’s living room floor, shrieking and giggling, homework forgotten. At some point, Nayeon manages to pin Momo to the ground and sits atop her, smothering her face gently with the cushion.
“Say it!” she demands.
Momo screams adamantly into the pillow, “never!”
“Say it or I’ll—” Nayeon hesitates, struggling to think of an ultimatum.
“Or you’ll what?” Momo challenges.
“I—I’ll—I’ll start hiding cucumbers in your things!”
Momo pushes the cushion out of her face, staring at Nayeon in outrage, “you wouldn’t.”
Nayeon squints, “I would.”
Momo struggles beneath, screaming, “let me go! This is torture! Friendship cancelled! FRIENDSHIP CANCELLED!”
“Why do you hate cucumbers so much?”
“They’re too green!”
“They contain antioxidants!”
“They’re too fresh!”
“They’re an excellent source of vitamins!”
“Get off me!” Momo’s squirming increases in intensity.
Nayeon is having a hard time staying on. She persists either way.
“I’ll get off if you say it!”
“Fine!” Momo accedes. She stops squirming to catch her breath and Nayeon takes the opportunity to do the same.
“So say it!” Nayeon hisses.
Momo mumbles something under her breath.
“What was that? I didn’t catch it.”
“I SAID—” Momo huffs, “imnayeonistheprettiestgirlinthewholeworldsecondtononeandiamsogladthatshehasgracedmewiththeprivilegeofbeingherbestfriend.”
“Momo, honey, you’re going to have to enunciate.”
“You heard me! You know what I said!” Momo whines.
Nayeon looks at her with a blank expression.
“Ugh!” Momo groans, “Fine! Im Nayeon is the prettiest girl in the whole world, second to none and i am so glad that she has graced me with the privilege of being her best friend. There! Are you happy now?”
Nayeon grins, “very.”
“Great,” Momo rolls her eyes, “now get! Off!”
“No,” Nayeon says, falling atop Momo, her entire body weight pinning her down, “I’m going to nap here.”
“I hate you! You’re the worst!” Momo spits, recommencing her squirming.
Nayeon ignores her and hums herself a little lullaby.
Momo gives up, tired from the struggle. They lie there like that for a while, and Momo thinks that maybe Nayeon really is taking a nap.
That is, of course until Nayeon clears , “hey Momo?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think…” she hesitates, shifting on top of Momo, “do you think Sana will like me now?”
Momo’s mouth runs dry. It’s a question she doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t even want to think about.
“Why not?” is her answer.
Nayeon seems to be satisfied with this, and her arms find their way around Momo’s body, wrapping her up in a hug, despite being uncomfortably pressed between the floor and Momo’s back.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
Momo hums in acknowledgement. One of her hands reaches up to play with Nayeon’s hair, while the other fiddles with the hem of Nayeon’s shirt. If that’s what it takes for Minatozaki Sana to like Nayeon, she wonders what it’ll take for Nayeon to like her. Maybe she was too slow; she just wishes Nayeon could’ve waited for her.

    Well, then again, you can’t really expect someone to wait for something they don’t know exists in the first place.

    And Minatozaki Sana crashed into their lives out of nowhere, anyway. 

    Momo was nervous. Coming from a small primary school, she was definitely not prepared for the sheer scale and size of high school. The huge swarm of students milling about was suffocating. It made the simple task of locating her locker feel overwhelming. She nearly burst into tears when someone bumped into her shoulfer for the fifteenth time that day. Nayeon squeezed her hand and she relaxes.
“It’s okay, Momo, I’m right here—ow!” Nayeon said as she toppled to the floor.
“Oh my god!” a high pitched voice squealed.
Looking around in a daze, Momo located the source of the voice. A girl knelt before Nayeon’s fallen figure, picking up her books.
“What the—” Nayeon groaned.
“I’m sorry—” the girl began as she looked up at Nayeon ,ready to hand her books back to her.
Then her face contorted in a way that made Momo’s blood boil. It was somewhere between a grimace and a smirk.
“Well geez, I guess I really am sorry,” the girl said, snorting as she looked Nayeon up and down, “but not for what I should be sorry for.”
Instead of waiting for Nayeon to take the books from her, she simply dropped them into her lap, ignoring the groan Nayeon let out as they fall heavily. With that, she simply got up and, with a flick of her hair, she strutted off. As she doid so, a gust of vanilla hit them. Momo hated it.
“Nayeon, are you okay?” she asked worriedly, lifting the books from her lap and pulling her up as well.
Nayeon watched the girl’s receding figure, “yeah.”

    A little later on, they ran into the same girl again, this time not literally. Instead, the girl sauntered into the classroom, flanked by who Momo assumes to be her friends. Her eyes scanned the room carefully. When they landed on Momo and Nayeon, she scoffed. With her arms folded, she stalked over. Nayeon, who was still studying the school map, trying to locate her classes, hadn’t seen them enter, but Momo had. She had a bad feeling about this. The girl stopped in front of their desks.
“You’re in our seats,” she spat.
Momo swallowed “b-but it’s the first day of class.”
“So?”
“S-so these aren’t your seats. We were here f-first.”
The girl scowled, “well we want to sit here.”
“T-that doesn’t even make any sense! There’s three of you and only two desks!” Momo sputtered.
“Do you even know who I—” the girl seethed, before her friend caught her attention by tapping her on the shoulder.
“Sana, let’s not waste our time,” she said with a voice that sounded just as bored as she looked.
Sana glared at Momo and Nayeon once more before storming off.
“What a b-,” Momo mumbled, heart trembling, hands shaking.
Nayeon hadn’t said a word during the whole incident.

    From then on, everything went to . But still, despite everything that happened, and everything that would happen, Nayeon looked at Sana with stars in her eyes. It made Momo sick.

    There is some sort of comfort in the fact that Sana will probably never like Nayeon back. Momo feels bad for somewhat enabling her friend to chase after her pointless fantasy of living out her very own high school teen romance, but it seemed harmless (well, except for the part where they got bullied nearly everyday). She knows that Nayeon had never entertained of ever being able to reach Sana. But that was before. Things are changing now. Maybe Sana didn’t like Nayeon before, but who is Momo to say anything about what could happen in the future? The ‘probably’ from ‘Sana will probably never like Nayeon back’ only grows bigger. It casts Momo into its shadow and it scares her. Everything will be different when school starts again. People will start to notice Nayeon as more than a target. If Nayeon played her cards right, she could—she could—could—win the card game? Long story short, things are looking up for Nayeon. It’s selfish, but Momo kind of wishes that they weren’t.