A/N: I can't thank you all enough for your support for the first chapter! I really appreciate it. This chapter is a little longer since there was a bit more exposition and in general more that happened so just a heads up. There’s also, like, one swear word so if you’re 4, uhhh TW!

 

Hyunjin POV

 

I’ve never felt so strange in my entire life, and for me, that’s saying something. After I left the bakery, my first thoughts were not of the delectable box of croissants I cradled in my arms like a treasure chest, or even of what my plans were for the rest of the day. They were of a girl. More specifically, the girl who served me these croissants. Having a tiny crush on a pretty person was fairly common for me, but this girl was different. The instant I laid eyes on her, every other thought I was tossing around in my head was eclipsed by that goddess with an apron. She looked like she should be working in Hollywood as a model, not as a baker. I was surprised that I could even stand, let alone order anything. She was so sweet, too, which equally calmed and unsettled me.

 

I was a nervous wreck around her, always trying to look away as if I was just browsing the various treats on display. Truthfully, I knew that I wanted croissants before I walked into the bakery, but I couldn’t work up the courage to order them for a few minutes. Every time I tried to soak in her beauty, she was looking right back at me and I just couldn’t do it, so I put up a facade of indecisiveness. Whether or not I was successful I’m not sure. I could tell that she had just been busy decorating something because there was a small smudge of icing on her forehead. Part of me thought it was rude to point that out to her, but it turned out to be the right choice. Those few moments that I was able to gawk at her as she cleaned her face were priceless. Her small nervous chuckles and somewhat flustered demeanor were so adorable that I was surprised that my knees didn’t buckle.

 

After having eased the tension, I was finally able to work up the courage to order. At the bakery I’d last been to, they offered free samples, so I decided to try my luck and extend our interaction by asking for one. I hadn’t expected her to comply since she initially stated that she wasn’t allowed to. She’d said, “But, for you, I can make an exception,” and I swear I could feel something dripping from her words. For me? What made me special? Were there signals she was sending me that I was too oblivious to pick up on, or was it just a sales technique? I had been so shocked by the taste that I ordered three instead of just one. Still, her words reverberated in my head and I played them over and over as I dissected them for deeper meaning.

 

Now that I was out of the bakery and into the light flurry of snow, I felt like I could finally breathe. The chilly air felt like inhaling tiny shards of glass but it was comforting enough considering how I had practically suffocated in that girl’s presence. I wish she would have been wearing a nametag, though, since calling her ‘that girl’ felt so impersonal and didn’t quite encapsulate her. Part of me wanted to rush back inside under the guise that I’d dropped something and try to talk to her again, but would that be weird? Would she feel uncomfortable that some random customer wanted to strike up a conversation? Or maybe she'd be annoyed because she was busy decorating something important? Even if I could just waltz in there and try to talk to her, what would I even say? “Hey, you’re really pretty and I want your number!” Knowing me, there was a zero percent chance a statement like that could leave my lips. So, after weighing the options in my head, I decided that waiting for my next visit would be the best course of action.

 

Walking along the downtown streets towards the bus stop, I opened the box of croissants and peeked inside, smiling a bit as their buttery smell meet my nostrils. They looked absolutely delectable and flaky, everything I could have asked for in a croissant. On the bus ride home, I had eaten almost an entire pastry. I could only imagine how much better they’d be if I warmed them up a bit, and that was what restrained me from eating the other two. Breads, rolls and pastries of all kinds were definitely one of my biggest weaknesses, and while I knew they weren’t good for me, I didn’t mind much. I worked out a few times a week and that usually kept me at a consistent weight. I loved jogging most of all, but in the winter that wasn’t really a viable option, and so I had gotten a bit sessile since the first snow came around.

 

After pulling the bright yellow cord next to my seat, the bus pulled to the side of the road and the doors opened to let me out. Carrying the box in one hand and fishing my house keys out of my coat with the other, it was a short walk to my house. I’d lived here almost my entire life and it always was my sanctuary. It was a very nice home with two stories, a lavishly decorated porch and in the summer, a well-kept lawn. Snow covered the withering grass now, but that sight was equally beautiful to me. It was in a part of town known for its wealthy residents and so the atmosphere was always crushing with people looking down their noses at you. It was great. In a couple minutes, I was already inside, stamping out the snow from my boots on the rug and removing them along with my coat. No one seemed to be home right now which was a bit of a relief. I could eat in peace. I tossed the two remaining croissants in the microwave and sat down on a stool at the kitchen island to enjoy them.

 

That was when the front door opened, and I turned my gaze to the front door which was visible from where I sat. I could see my mother setting down her things after returning from wherever she’d been and tried to brace myself for conversation with her. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her, but she could be quite...scathing at times. She walked into the kitchen after a minute and I took a deep breath and a big bite of the croissant so I could avoid talking for a few extra seconds. “Good morning, Hyunjin,” she greeted dryly and turned to me. “How are you-- oh.” Her demeanor shifted from bored to critical as she spotted the croissant and a half on my plate. “Hungry, are you? I left you some rice and a couple banchan that I made, or did you eat that as well?” Her tone was prickly and her words drilled holes into me as I quietly and slowly finished the rest of the pastry in my mouth.

 

“I didn’t eat them,” I protested, trying to keep my voice even as she stared at my accusingly. “I didn’t even see it in the fridge. I--”

 

“Whatever,” she cut me off, turning around to leave the kitchen. I felt a sense of relief before she looked back at me to scornfully add, “You know, you really should watch your weight, Hyunjin.” There she goes again, acting like a health nut and lecturing me. “That stuff isn’t good for you. Croissants are just empty calories and you’ll end up fat. Is that what you want, Hyunjin? Do you want to be fat like your cousin?” The way she said my name made it seem like it was an insult. Her whole tone was insulting and I could hardly contain myself, my fingers curling into fists behind the island. And don’t even get me started on how she brought my cousin into this for no reason.

 

“No, mother,” I replied blankly, looking away from her, my lips starting to quiver softly as she grilled into me. I prayed that would be enough to ward her off but that was foolish of me.

 

“Look at me when you speak, Hyunjin,” my mother demanded with a bit more edge to her voice. I bet saying my name tasted like venom on her tongue. She certainly said it with curse-like intensity. “Tell me you don’t want to end up fat. Tell me that you’ll watch what you eat.”

 

I slowly shifted my gaze to her, meeting the piercing eyes, crinkled nose and spiteful frown my mother sent my way.  “I don’t want to end up fat, mother,” I reiterated with exaggerated articulation so there would be no way she couldn’t understand me. Keeping my composure was a monumental task in this moment and my toes were starting to curl tightly and my heart rate quickened. I was almost on the verge of tears.

 

She stared at me venomously for a few silent moments, scanning up and down my body in what could almost be disgust. “Good,” she finally said. The anger and bitterness in her voice disappeared, but the tension in the air lingered, choking me and making me start to sweat. “Now put that junk away. If I see you eating any more of it today, there will be consequences. I can’t have my daughter growing out of all the clothes I buy for her.” She spoke to me like I was still a child and not like I was nineteen years old. She had this way of belittling me and speaking so disparagingly that absolutely made my blood boil. “And don’t forget to practice. Your father mentioned that you were struggling with the Debussy piece he assigned you.”

 

I wanted to fight back, to stand up for myself, but I couldn’t. No good would come of it, and this encounter would just escalate. I had to literally bite my tongue as she left the room so I wouldn’t let my thoughts slip. Every time after my mother spoke to me like that, I wondered why I let it happen. Why did I allow her to berate me like this? As soon as she was out of earshot, I let my head fall onto the counter and let a few stifled sobs escape my lips. Tears silently fell down my cheeks as I placed the croissants into a plastic bag, put them in the pantry for tomorrow and fled upstairs to my bedroom where I locked the door and lay down on the bed. Letting those few cries out would have normally cascaded into a full on emotional breakdown, but this was a minor incident in the grand scheme of things.

 

The past year of my life has been difficult to say the least. Since I entered elementary school, I’ve been playing piano, one of few things that made me happy. I’m sure I would have discovered my love for the instrument organically if it had not been forced on me by my parents. They were both prominent musicians in the community, my mom being a fairly successful opera star turned vocal coach and my father being the conductor for the regional symphony orchestra. It came as no surprise that their kids would end up being musicians themselves, but the truth wasn’t so sugar sweet. When we-- my two older brothers and I --each turned five, we were approached by them to choose what instrument we wanted to do, and ‘nothing’ was an unacceptable answer. My oldest brother was the most eager to tackle an instrument or two, and has since finished his masters degree for violin. My other brother is in his senior year of college studying voice in hopes to be an opera star like my mother. I chose piano and despite being passionate about animals and wanting to study veterinary medicine, I was pressured into going to the same university my brothers went to.

 

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy piano or anything like that, though. It was my first love and playing is my favorite thing to do in the world. But, I didn’t want to live in the shadow of my brothers and parents. They were all immensely successful and solely driven to improve their talents, but I was not. I wanted to travel the world, make friends and help animals. When I was young, my cat was on the brink of death when the veterinarian we visited was able to treat her for her injuries and save her life. It was then that I knew I wanted to pursue that path and help less fortunate families from losing their pets. My parents discouraged this at every turn, insisting that I should focus on piano so I could be as good as my father some day. Eventually, I caved, and went on the path that had been trod on already by my father, mother and brothers.

 

The university they’d all been to must have been the reason for their stuck-up personalities. Everyone in the music school was pretentious, callous and downright mean. I was by no means a virtuoso pianist, but I thought I was good enough for them. I thought they would help me when I needed some help on a difficult passage. Instead, they mocked and ridiculed me at every turn. In our concerts and evaluations, the students would not applaud after I finished and they laughed the entire performance. “She’s nothing like her brothers,” they’d say among other, more hurtful things. The professors didn’t care, either. All they cared about was my skills which were lacking in their eyes. They compared me to my family instead of objectively critiquing me. Eventually, my parents caught wind of my struggles and were absolutely appalled. After the end of the spring semester, they made me drop out and return home to improve. I spent most of that summer at the piano, playing until carpal tunnel afflicted my hands, and then I played some more. To make money and earn my keep with my parents, I began to take on piano students for lessons at seventeen thousand won a pop.

 

These few months have been the hardest for me emotionally. I had always been prone to depression since high school and my parents never made things better for me. I felt like a burden, like I was inferior, so I believed that I was worthless. It was especially hard to mask my negative emotions around my piano students, but the joy in their eyes when they conquered a difficult section of music or improved was enough to light the fire in my eyes for just a little while. I’d always fall back into my mental prison, though. To cope with my overbearing sadness and desolation, I’ve started to binge eat, devouring sugary treats and other junk, as my mother would call it. My parents didn’t notice at first but when they discovered various snack wrappers, plates and bowls in my room one day, I thought maybe they’d finally understand my emotional struggles. They just called me a pig and insisted that I get back in shape like I had in high school when I was in various sports clubs. I hadn’t gained more than ten or fifteen pounds, but I was no longer perfect in their eyes and therefore, I wasn’t valuable.

 

I’d been sulking beneath my blankets for nearly an hour when I heard my phone ring and felt it vibrate within my pocket. Sluggishly, I peeled the covers off of me and wiped my face of tears before pulling out my phone, sniffling a bit. The caller I.D. read a name that instantly lifted my spirits and elicited a small, excited gasp from me: Jinsol. I instantly accepted the call, a smile forming on my chapped lips. “Jinsol! How are you?” I answered happily, my voice cracking a bit from my crying fest just seconds ago.

 

“Hyunjin! I’m great!,” my best friend of almost fourteen years responded happily. “I’m on my way home from school. Exams are finished and winter break is officially in session!”

 

“Oh, that’s right! How long ‘til you get back in town?” I asked, tilting my head as though she was right next to me.

 

“Like, an hour?” Jinsol guessed, pausing a moment to presumably check her G.P.S. for the estimated arrival time. “Yeah, an hour. When I get home and settled in tomorrow, we should totally meet up! I’ve got nothing to do tomorrow. My folks want to take me to dinner tonight but after that, I'm solid.”

 

Jinsol loved her parents so much, and I was glad she got to see them after long months away from them. I wished that I could relate. “Yes, we definitely should. Kahei has begging me all week to meet with her for coffee at the usual place but I’ve been too busy. I only have one student tomorrow evening, though, so this works out.”

 

“Aw, I’ve missed that girl,” Jinsol gushed a bit, her unbridled excitement about returning home apparent even through the phone. “Usual place sounds good, though. Let’s meet there tomorrow around noon?”

 

“Tomorrow at noon, it is,” I agreed, smiling like a goof. “See ya, then. Drive safe.”

 

***

 

Stepping off the bus, I laid eyes on the ‘usual place,’ a small café that was locally owned and had the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.  Jinsol, Kahei and I would come here often to study or unwind after class since it was close to our high school. Even after we graduated, we still gravitated towards this place. We’ve made so many memories here, and I was certain we’d make many more. My head was on a swivel, scanning for my two friends as I pulled out my phone to see if either of them had said they were here yet.

 

I didn’t even need to check my phone as I spotted a pink-haired girl getting out of a parked car outside the café. Her brown eyes lit up with a joyful warmth as she approached me and extended her arms to me. “Hyunjin!” She greeted me as I returned the shorter girl’s hug. Kahei was an absolutely gorgeous girl who Jinsol and I befriended in junior high when she and her parents immigrated to Korea from China for work. The language barrier was hard at first, but we developed quite a strong friendship throughout high school despite her being a couple years older than us. She always went out of her way for us, helping us to study, being Jinsol’s test dummy for her various songs and jokes, and being my designated workout buddy. Unlike Jinsol, she’d stayed in town for university, opting to study literature at a local school. She was smart, athletic and adorable all in one. The total package, really.

 

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, snuggling into her a bit before releasing her. “How did your semester go?” I looked down to her with a genuine smile, resting my hands in my coat pockets to shield them from the cold.

 

“It went very well,” was her even, articulate reply. While Korean was not her first language, she seemed to choose her words carefully and enunciated them well. “I think I did well on most of my exams, and I’m glad to be done for a while.”

 

“Yeah, Jinsol seems to be relieved it’s all over, too.”

 

“Jinsol seems to what?” A loud voice behind me interjected, causing me to turn around sharply and spot a blonde girl in a blue beanie and black jacket. I was scared for a moment but I eased up when I recognized her, a smile tugging at my lips.

 

“Don’t scare me like that!” I chided with a playful shove, causing the blonde to laugh heartily and pull me into a strong embrace which I returned excitedly.

 

I met Jinsol on our first ever day of school and we’ve been close ever since. She came from a humbler background than me, but that never once put a damper on our relationship despite my father constantly offering to lend her parents money. It surprises me even now that my parents approve of my friendship with Jinsol considering that she’s loud, ungraceful and not loaded with money or refined taste. Jinsol and I were polar opposites: she was extroverted, I tended to keep to myself. She was popular with a lot of people in school and I only had a few close friends. She was a hardcore fan of contemporary music while I preferred to play classical tunes from another era. She was a crazy talented singer, too and she hoped to make it big one day in the music industry as a performer or even a producer. We were both keyboard players, but I tickled the ivories while she produced beats and tracks on her laptop. Music was what united us in our unbreakable bond.

 

After exchanging a few greetings, we made our way into the café and planted ourselves in a corner table like always. We talked a little more about recent events (I left out my depression and the girl at the bakery, for now) and broke the ice a bit while we thought of what to order. Kahei offered to go order our drinks at the counter, and Jinsol took that as a chance to talk to me one-on-one.

 

“So, meet any cute boys in town?” She asked me, wriggling her eyebrows mischievously.

 

I just rolled my eyes and looked back at her with narrowed eyes before laughing through my nose. “Nah, they’re all so boring here.” I shrugged, looking out the window for a moment at the passing cars and falling snow. “What about you?” I turned the question on her, smirking softly. “Surely you’ve found a strapping young man at school.”

 

Jinsol burst into forced laughter, sinking into her chair a bit and squeezing her eyes shut. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You know all the boys at that school are either only into boys or sheet music. Even the contemporary music program was lacking in the eye candy department.”

 

“So, what about girls, then?” I teased innocently. I was wondering if she maybe had any girl crushes since that was on my mind lately. The bakery girl had once again crept into my thoughts.

 

Jinsol’s expression faltered a moment before she quickly recovered and shook her head, smiling again. “Nah, they’ve all got sticks up their butts or something. No one wants to party at that place, I swear!” She seemed stirred up by something, and I hoped I hadn’t said anything wrong.

 

In any case, Kahei was back now, carrying a receipt and setting it down on the table as she sat down. “How much do I owe?” I asked, pulling out my pocketbook.

 

Kahei waved her hand a bit, shaking her head. “No, no, you don’t owe anything. It’s my treat.” God, she was an angel. I would have protested, but that always made her flustered and bashful. It was adorable, but I could tell she didn’t like the attention.

 

“Thank you, then. I appreciate you, you know that, Kahei?” I smiled gratefully at her. She was always offering to pay for meals when we went out, and sometimes Jinsol or I had to beg to let us chip in.

 

Kahei laughed airily, her smile wide and eyes bright. “If you want to make it up to me, you could play something on the piano.” Her delicate finger pointed past me and to the other side of the café.

 

My eyes went wide as I looked to the small, upright wood finished piano leaned against the wall and adorned with an array of gorgeous flowers like a taste of spring in the middle of December. I blinked a few times and my cheeks flushed with color as I turned back to Kahei. “What? Come on, you guys make me play that almost every time we come in.”

 

“And don’t we love it every time? And don’t you love that we love it?” I bashfully rolled my eyes at Jinsol’s reply and she snorted a bit, gently nudging me with her foot under the table. “Come on! What are you nervous for?”

 

I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head slightly at my blonde friend. “Um, have you met me?” A few nervous laughs left my lips as I tried to compose myself. “Besides, uh, my wrists are sore. I...need to rest them.”

 

They weren’t buying it, even if it was fairly true. I was a musician, not an actress. Kahei pouted her rosy lips out and stared deeply into me, her eyes shimmering as if she was on the verge of tears. “Please? Just a few bars and you can be done.”

 

I couldn’t say no to her and she knew it. “Ugh, fine,” I conceded with mild annoyance as I stood up. “What do you want to hear? Something old or something new?”

 

“Something new!” Was Jinsol’s instant reply. “Show us your Yiruma side!” She really liked his work and was the only pianist she was really into, so how could I decline? My friends really knew how to play me.

 

I just gave a small nod and slowly walked with slight hesitation to the piano and pulled out the bench to sit. Once I was comfortable, I pressed down on the damper pedal gently to test it before lifting the lid that shielded the keyboard. WIth a small gulp, I looked down to the faux ivory keys and rolled my wrists around to relax them. Pressing down on the keys in sequence, I played a scale up and down the entire length of the piano to briefly warm up and then took a moment to think of what to play. Jinsol loved ‘River Flows in You’ but that was so overdone. I decided to do a more obscure piece, ‘Fairy Tale.’ It was my favorite and one of few I had memorized. For some reason, the melancholic hope of it just resonated with me.

 

After placing my hands into position, I took a deep breath in and after letting out, my hands and fingers began to move in the gently drifting rhythm. As my hands shaped chords and fingers flowed in sequence, I forgot about my friends who were probably recording me for their Instagrams, about the people in the café and even about my eventful morning. All I could feel was the music as it vibrated through my fingers to my hands to my arms and through all of my body. I leaned into the song with all of my emotion, pouring all the sadness out with each note, making the tones ring in the air like bells. As the rubato rhythm intensified and became louder, I felt myself more focused than I’d been all day.

 

When the piece lulled into a more delicate section towards the end, my mind suddenly turned to the girl at the bakery. I could picture her rich brown hair and warm smile even a day later. I even remembered her sweet voice that evoked the strangest feelings from me. As the piece gradually became louder and climbed to its peak, I poured even more into my soul into what now became a serenade, closing my eyes and letting my hands wander passionately along the keys before coming down all at once to a finish. As the last note reverberated in the air, I suddenly remembered where I was. Turning slowly to my friends, I laughed softly at the sight of them clapping happily and making hearts with their hands. My eyes drifted to the other café patrons and I blushed in embarrassment as they had all turned to look at me during my impromptu performance. I shyly bowed in appreciation to them before shutting the keyboard cover and running back to the table.

 

“That was so…” Kahei’s voice trailed off as she tried to voice her thoughts on my playing. She looked adorably awestruck.

 

“...impassioned,” Jinsol finished, her eyes bright and hands reaching to clasp one of mine. “Usually you just play a for a minute then run to the bathroom to hide, so what was different this time?”

 

Still feeling the emotional high of a great performance, I gave a reserved smile and shrugged. “I don’t know,” I answered distantly, looking out the window. I was still thinking about her, the girl who had been in my thoughts for over a day now.

 

Jinsol caught onto my daze and narrowed her eyes, leaning closer to me. “So there is someone you’re thinking of!” She gasped loudly and gripped my arm, pushing and pulling on it like a little child. “Who is it? Who is it? Who is it?” She asked over, ready to keep tugging at me until I gave an answer.

 

“I wasn’t thinking about anyone,” I deflected, my thoughts scrambling to find a cover. I wasn’t ready to tell my friends about my feelings for a girl. Were they even feelings? Was it just infatuation? I’d never liked girls before. Why was I even trying to cover something that wasn’t there? I didn’t have a crush on the bakery girl. I just thought she was very nice. And sweet. And pretty. So, so pretty. “I was thinking about you guys and how much I’ve missed you.” That was the best I could come up with, and it wasn’t very good.

 

“Aw!” Kahei gushed, somehow being fooled by my really bad lie. “That’s so sweet.” She was a very smart girl when it came to her studies and general knowledge, but she lacked the emotional intuitiveness that Jinsol had.

 

Jinsol looked to Kahei with a furrowed brow. “You really bought that?” She asked skeptically, earning a confused nod from the pink-haired girl. She sighed in exasperation and rested her head in her hand. “We’ll talk about this later. Anyways,” she turned her attention to me, “I don’t believe any of what you just said, but I’ll drop it for now because I’m hungry.” Her intense gaze lingered on me a moment and I gulped, my eyes widening ever so slightly. I knew my friend was just being a little dramatic for effect, but she was also being dead serious. Jinsol would sniff the truth out of me sooner or later.

 

“Oh, I know a place we should go to!” Kahei chimed in happily. “There’s this bakery a few blocks away I go to a lot. They make a lot of very good things we could have with the leftovers at my house.”

 

I stopped listening as soon as she mentioned the bakery down the street. There was only one bakery around this area, so there was no denying it. That was the one with the cute girl. My heart started to beat faster at the prospect of possibly seeing her again. What would I say to her? Would it be easier to face her now that I’ve been thinking about her, or would it be harder now that I’ve built her up in my head to be something more than ordinary? I couldn’t stop fidgeting with the sleeves of my sweater, staring off blankly into space and internally battling with myself over words to say to her.

 

“Is that fine with you Hyunjin?” Jinsol asked, apparently not having noticed that I’d zoned out.

 

I jolted out of my haze and swiftly looked to the blonde with a confused face. “Huh? What are we doing?” I asked, genuinely not having been paying attention.

 

Jinsol playfully groaned and rolled her whole head along with her eyes. “We’re walking to that bakery then walk back here to our cars then drive over to Kahei’s,” she explained with mild annoyance. “You good?”

 

“Oh, uh... yeah,” I stumbled out. “Just trying to throw together a lesson plan for my student tonight. She’s a bit difficult.”

 

This time, I think that Jinsol seemed to buy it, but she didn’t say anything as she stood and nodded to me in acknowledgement. “Alright, let’s get moving! Mama’s hungry!”

 

Kahei giggled a bit, grabbing her coat. “I’m older than you, you know,” she reminded, playing off of Jinsol’s enthusiasm.

 

“She’s older than me, though, so she can be my mama,” I joined in, wrapping my arms around my best friend like I really was her daughter. We all laughed for few moments before leaving.

 

***

 

During the entire ten-or-so minute walk to the bakery, there was a war going on inside my head. One side was begging for me to try and speak with the girl, to at least get her name. If I knew her name, and she knew mine, at least that would establish something between us, even if I was just a regular at the bakery. That could be a stepping stone to something more, like a friendship, or...more. Realistically, though, I just wanted to be closer to her, to learn more about her to see if I even did have feelings for and not just some weird obsession. I was struggling to come up with something witty or cool to say, ways to slip things about me into the conversation to try to get her interested and in turn, reveal more about herself.

 

Another part of me wanted to just wing it, to be myself and not go into the interaction with a plan. I played out a bunch of scenarios in my head, and most ended with me fumbling over my prepared words and making a fool of myself. It could look bad. I wasn’t good with conversations or speaking in general. I can’t count on both hands how many times I’ve almost had a full on panic attack during a presentation in high school. That would really look bad. I should just focus on making natural conversation, or letting her lead it.

 

A much smaller part of me just wished she wouldn’t be there.

 

Once we arrived, Kahei was the first to enter, chattering about a few of her favorite things here. As far as Jinsol and her knew, I’ve never been here before. That was when we noticed how full the normally quiet bakery was. A long line of people had formed from the front counter and along the back wall, almost all the way back to the front door. A small paper sign taped to the door read, ‘Please take a number.’ I couldn’t believe it was this busy here. I’d only been here once before, but I assumed that it was a small bakery that didn’t have much business based on its size. As I scanned the room for the girl I was excited about (and simultaneously dreading) seeing, Kahei took a number ticket for each of us, handing the last to me.

 

We waited in line for what felt like hours and the entire time, I couldn’t get a clear view of the counter from all the people that crowded around it. What if she wasn’t even there? What if all of this inner conflict had been for nothing. I nervously clutched the ticket in my hand, bracing myself as Kahei ordered. It was loud in here, and I could neither hear nor see anything past the group of people waiting for more complex orders that flocked around the counter. Eventually, Kahei emerged from the throng with a small box of cookies, and Jinsol took her place. Through this, both of them had tried to make small talk with me, but I was just idly nodding along, too focused on every other thought in my head. Finally, Jinsol turned to me, a small, plastic container with a fruit pastry inside. She smiled at me and said, “Don’t get lost in there,” before laughing a bit.

 

As I approached the counter with what felt like a ton of bricks weighing my stomach down, I took a deep breath to clear my thoughts. I had to gently push past a couple of people, but I soon found myself face to face with...her. Her mocha hair was tied up in a messy ponytail with fringes framing the smooth skin of her face and her dazzling brown eyes looked tired but welcomed me nonetheless. “Hi, welcome back!” She greeted enthusiastically with a smile that showed her impeccably structured high cheekbones and jawline. “I remember you from yesterday.”

 

She remembered me? It suddenly clicked that she’d said, ‘Welcome back,’ to me and I instantly smiled mostly out of nerves and partially out of politeness. “Yeah, I-I’m back,” I stumbled, my legs going to jelly and stomach turning to stone. I still couldn’t look at her and looked down at the display case as I tried to rein in my fleeting thoughts. I had to keep myself from crumbling this time. I had to, because she remembered me.

 

“Oh!” As if remembering something, the girl looked to me with a softer smile than the beaming one from before. “I need your number.”

 

My brain turned to glass and shattered as those words left her rosy, full lips. My number? What? I literally could not process how to react and felt like my knees could fail me at any moment and let me fall to the floor. I stopped breathing a moment as my mind went into overdrive. She already wanted my number? Just like that?! There was no way she was that bold. Nobody was. I certainly wasn’t. I could hardly prevent my jaw from dropping and had to place my hand beneath it to support it. She knew nothing about me, so why was this happening? And why did it make me feel this way? After a moment, I took a deep breath in through my nose and looked up to her with a pace so slow a glacier would beat me in a race. “M-my...number?” I repeated, knowing I looked like a flustered mess. I hoped that I could convey that I was just confused or that I’d misheard her.

 

She let out a small, full laugh and pointed to something in my hand. “Your order ticket,” she clarified, laughter painting her gorgeous voice.

 

That’s when I felt the small piece of paper in my hand and lifted it to my eye level to look at it. It was crumpled up into a ball and I felt so embarrassed. I had probably been clenching my hand so hard that I’d absolutely mauled the poor ticket. The number was still visible, though, so I handed it to her, noticing how bad my hand was shaking. As she reached over the counter to grab it, I felt her fingers gently brush against my own, sending a wave of heat and tingles up my arm.

 

She touched me. It took all of my willpower to not let out any sort of gasp or noise as a reaction. That was easily one of the most intense sensations I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t believe how warm her touch felt on my hand. It was shocking, exciting, electrifying and at the same time, so calming. She touched me. I felt like a teenage girl at a concert when the singer goes to the edge of the stage to touch the hands of the front row. She touched me!

 

“Croissants again, or something else?” Her question shook me from my euphoria and I met her inquisitive face which tilted like a puppy. She remembered me, and now she remembered what I’d ordered too? I just couldn’t wrap my head around this. What was special about me? I’d never considered myself particularly attractive and there weren’t any truly distinguishing features about me like a large mole or an eyepatch or anything. Maybe yesterday had just been a slow day and there were only few customers. That had to be it.

 

“Um, yes,” I replied a bit more evenly, though I still couldn’t omit ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’ when I spoke. “Two please.” I offered a weak smile as she beamed in my direction. Her eyes lingered on mine for a moment before she nodded and bent down to pick them out of the case.

 

“One, and...two.” Once she’d grabbed them, she set them down on a piece of parchment paper  and grabbed a box before reaching for a black pen beside her. A small chuckle came my way as she uncapped the pen. “Earlier today, we had a mix up with orders, so I started writing people’s names on the box,” she explained, flipping the box upside down to write on it. “So, uh, what’s your name?”

 

What was my name? I was frozen for a second before I took a deep breath once again to keep me from panicking. “Hyunjin,” I said softly, surprised that my voice hadn’t cracked at all. It was only one word, though.

 

“Nice to see you again, Hyunjin,” she said with a happy smile as she wrote what was presumably my name. She really seemed to like her job and that made me a bit more comfortable and welcome. Once she was done writing, she looked up to me and winked. “I’m Heejin by the way, in case you were wondering.”

 

Did she wink at me? I had to be imagining things because there was no way she would have winked at me. I placed both of my hands on the counter, afraid that I’d float away if I didn’t. Everything about her made me absolutely weak from head to toe.

 

And then there was her name. Heejin. It seemed perfect in a way that I couldn’t describe. The girl that I’d been thinking of all day’s name was Heejin. It was pretty, just like she was.

 

“Alright, well, here you go,” Heejin said after a few moments of silence. I was just staring off into space like a huge idiot and it took her speaking for me to finally realize I was holding up the line of people behind me. I could hear muffled grumbles from an older man behind me and so I laughed a bit out of nervousness as I took the box from her and handed her my money.

 

“Thank you. Have a nice day!” Just like that, I was on my way out of line with my croissants, feeling embarrassed, happy, scared, excited and so much more. Jinsol raised a brow at me as I approached but quickly turned it into a smile. Without a word, we left the bakery and it felt like I could finally breathe.

 

***

 

When we arrived at Kahei’s small, tidy house, we headed straight for the kitchen to fix up a much needed lunch. The unexpectedly long wait at the bakery left us feeling pretty hungry. Jinsol and I offered several times to help with reheating the leftover dumplings and rice, but Kahei, as usual, insisted on doing this all herself. “You’re guests,” she’d insisted. We were happy to oblige, and so Jinsol and I took a seat at the table, talking about everything and nothing. That was what was great about her. We could talk about so little and yet make a full conversation out of it.

 

When lunch was served, we continued talking and catching up on more escapades Jinsol had taken part in during her semester. She was an unending fountain of tall tales, anecdotes and stories and was so engaging. I laughed until my cheeks hurt with practically every story she told. My favorite had involved her and some of her friends locking the orchestra conductor in his office so that they could use the concert hall for a roast battle between her and the only funny classical track student I remembered, a drummer named Bansoo. They even got away with it too since Bansoo was his assistant and claimed that she’d misplaced his keys with her own.

 

After a while of sitting with our empty plates and containers from the bakery, Jinsol and I sat up and insisted upon cleaning up for Kahei. She was persistent on assuming it was fine, but we could tell as we washed the dishes that she wanted to help. What did we even do to deserve such a friend? As I grabbed the box that once held delicious croissants, I walked over to the garbage bin and tossed it inside. When it landed upside down, however, I noticed more writing than just my name and ‘Croissant x2.’ Curiously, I waited for when Jinsol and Kahei weren’t looking and quickly slipped my hand into the trash and picked up the box. Setting it back on the counter, I couldn’t restrain myself from gasping this time.

 

Written on the bottom of the box was a phone number followed by the words, ‘Text me some time ♡.’ There was no way this was happening. It couldn’t be real. Heejin did not give me her number. She did not ask me to text her and she definitely didn’t draw a heart. My jaw was on the floor and my stomach was in my shoes as I tried to process all of this. Jinsol, noticing I’d gone catatonic, walked over to me and rested her hand on my shoulder. “You alright?” She asked, looking to me with confusion and concern. I didn’t say anything, instead pointing to the box on the counter. The blonde raised a brow at me before picking it up and reading it. She was silent for a second before she suddenly turned to me with wide, dark eyes. “I knew she was flirting with you, Hyunjin!” Jinsol exclaimed, dropping the box and approaching me with a devilish grin.

 

“No, she wasn’t,” I protested blankly, not looking at her. “This isn’t real. I’m dreaming, I must be.” There wasn’t a world in which Heejin would flirt with me. She was way out of my league. No, she was playing a whole different game. She couldn’t be single. There had to be some lucky girl or guy who has her all to herself and she just wanted to be friends, which was fine, of course.

 

Jinsol took a tight grip on my shoulders to shake me out of my shocked state. “Wake up, sweetie! This is real life! A real girl is really flirting with you.”

 

After a few shakes, I finally got back to my senses and wiggled out of her grip. “Wait, wait, wait, I-I don’t like her…like that,” I tried to protest. That was what I truly believed. I don’t like girls. This was just some weird obsession or something like that.

 

Kahei was listening the whole time but had remained quiet as a mouse until now. “Uh, you looked very flustered when you were talking to her,” she pointed out. “More than you usually are.”

 

I shot her an offended glance but she simply raised her arms and shrugged with a face that said, ‘I’m right.’ With a sigh, I looked to the floor and a half frown pulled down one side of my mouth. “I’m just confused, I think. I... I don’t know.”

 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know that,” Jinsol reassured with a more soothing voice, wrapping an arm around me. I felt my head sink into her shoulder for comfort. I felt tears coming but I fought them back, not wanting to cry over this. I didn’t even know what this issue was.

 

“It really isn’t,” Kahei agreed as she approached calmly. “If it helps, well…” She gulped for a second, closing her eyes in thought. “I like girls. Why do you think I wanted to go to the bakery? The tall girl that works in the back is really pretty.”

 

Looking up to her with slightly watery eyes, I asked, “Really?” Kahei had never expressed interest in anyone before no matter how much we pestered her about it. She liked to keep her crushes to herself and only tell if there was a major development, which I could respect.

 

“Yes, I really like girls.” Her smile while saying that was so genuine and a bit jovial. “And boys. I like everyone.”

 

I let out a small laugh, looking over to Kahei and up to Jinsol with a more eased expression. “Did everyone go to the bakery to see someone cute?” I asked jokingly.

 

“I didn’t,” Jinsol snorted, letting me go when I started to stand up straight. “I just wanted cookies, and man, were they good.”

 

Classic Jinsol.

 

***

 

“Was that better, Hyunjin-sunbae?” The wide-eyed, auburn-haired girl asked after playing a small passage on the piano. I sat beside her in a cushioned chair, my leg draped over my knee and arms crossed. Her face practically pleaded with me to say something positive, even if there were more negative things to note about her playing.

 

“You don’t have to call me ‘sunbae,’ first of all,” I began with a plain tone. “Secondly, there are a lot of things that could be improved on.” I paused a bit upon seeing how my emotionless tone caused the girl’s energy to simmer. “But, Jiwoo,” I let my arms fall to my lap and leaned in a bit with a small smile, “there’s improvement. Keep practicing and I’m sure you’ll get even better.”

 

Jiwoo’s smile widened again and she bounced a bit on the bench, quite satisfied with the feedback I gave her. “Thank you, Hyunjin! I know it wasn’t that good. The dynamics weren’t contrasting enough and my arpeggios were sloppy, but I think I did better with the pedaling and the counting of the beats. What do you think?” Her inquisitive gaze trained on me, once again begging for my ever-valuable opinion. I was only a year older than her, but she exuded the energy and emotions of a ten year old at most.

 

“You need to relax your wrists for the arpeggios.” I stood up and approached the piano, rolling one of my wrists around to loosen it up. “You’ll want to make a circle with your hand, like this.” Placing my thumb on a random key, I played the arpeggio with a smooth, rounded motion that came with years of discipline and training. “As for the dynamics, you need to just become more familiar with the piece. It’s crying out, begging for you to pour your emotion into it. You can do it.”

 

I yelped softly as I felt the younger girl’s arms around me, hugging tightly. “Thank you so much! I’ll definitely do that and by next lesson it’ll be so much better!” She was such a ball of sunshine, and no matter how troublesome she could be during lessons, Jiwoo was someone I needed in my life.

 

Laughing, I returned the hug with one arm, patting her wrist my free hand. “I’ll hold you to that,” I said with a hint of chuckle before freeing myself from her bubbly iron clutches. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I read that the time was a few minutes past seven. “Alright, looks like we’re done for the day.”

 

Jiwoo frowned at me for a moment before her eyes lit up again and she reached to the ground for her purse, fishing out her phone. “Hey, me and the girls have a gig tomorrow at the club downtown.” I already knew where this was going. “We could really use a piano player to give our songs some meat and for instruments we don’t have. I know this is super short notice, but would you possibly consider it?”

 

Her puppy dog eyes were absolutely powerful, but I was stronger. “I’m sorry, Jiwoo, but I don’t know your songs and a day isn’t very long to throw together whole keyboard parts,” I explained as carefully and nicely as I could.

 

Her lips began to quiver and pout and I could tell she was still sad regardless of how I tried to prevent this. “B-but, you’re really good! I’m sure you could do it, even… for one song?” She was trying again, and while I had to give her credit for it. She was relentless, and begged every lesson for my help. But I was busy enough with my other students and my own practicing to go join a band.

 

“I’m sorry,” I repeated with a bit more compassion. “This just isn’t an ideal time for me. But…” I paused a bit for emphasis as I lightened my expression. “I’ll definitely go and see you. When is the show?”

 

Instantly, Jiwoo’s eyes lit up and she beamed with joy. “Tomorrow, at 9 P.M. It’s going to be good, I promise!”

 

“With you singing? I’m sure.” I gave her bright smile and after a long series of goodbyes, Jiwoo was on her way out of the house and I could finally relax for the day. My parents were away at a concert across town and wouldn’t be back until later, so I was completely free. After quick snack of some chocolate ice cream, I was relaxing in my room, scrolling through social media and messaging my friends in our group chat. It was probably one of the most relaxing evenings I’d had in a while, all things considered. But, then I started to think too much.

 

Heejin, as usual, had snuck her way into my head and now I couldn’t care less about Jiwoo’s Instagram story. She gave me her number and while I’d saved it in my phone, I was hesitant to text her. I’d always heard that it was best to wait at least a day before sending a text in situations like these to avoid seeming clingy, and all I really had to go on was hearsay when it came to relationships. I had never had a real boyfriend, much to my parents’ dismay. They tried all through high school to set me up with the sons of their friends. All of them were so boring and all they talked about was school and their grades and other bland topics, but I obliged so as not to provoke my parents. I went on a few dates with around three or four different boys, but the most that had ever happened was a very awkward kiss after an uneventful dinner. It was actually terrible and I don’t acknowledge it as my first kiss.

 

Despite trying to escape those arranged relationships before they became arranged marriages, I didn’t have any luck elsewhere. There were a few boys I’d found cute in my school, but they were either older, didn’t know I existed, or both. I obviously was-- and still am --a very shy girl, so approaching boys was a daunting task that I never got up the courage to accomplish. It didn’t bother me much back then; I was just a kid who wanted to play the piano and get through my high school years. But now that some sort of feelings were being stirred up within me, I wished that I’d had at least some experience to draw on.

 

But were my feelings for Heejin more than just a deep, platonic admiration or obsessive infatuation? I had my doubts, but I told myself over and over that I was just awestruck by how pretty and nice she was. I was not crushing by any means. However, madly searching multiple social media platforms for anyone named Heejin was a red flag for me. I did manage to find her, and it did not help my case against having more than platonic feelings for her. Heejin’s Instagram was more like an art gallery than just some selfies she posted for fun. I suddenly wanted to know more about her, to learn something more than just her name and profession. Part of me wanted to follow her, thinking she wouldn’t notice, but I decided against it.

 

The more I ogled over every picture of her with each passing hour, I realized that these feelings were definitely something more, and honestly, that frightened me. I was very scared and very confused and I needed help, immediately. Although Kahei would be the best help since she actually liked girls, I knew she was asleep at this hour. So, I texted Jinsol.

 

Am I a lesbian?

 

I waited for what felt like an hour before my phone buzzed and I looked down to see her reply.

 

Jinsollie: WHOA WHOA WHOA, let’s calm down a sec, k? what’s going on?

 

Jinsollie: is this about that heejin girl? listen, i’m not sure if liking one (1) girl makes you a lesbian. girl crushes happen all the time, hyun-hyun.

 

I heaved a small sigh, reading over those messages and feeling a lump form in my throat. I wanted to believe Jinsol, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d never felt this way...ever.

 

I don’t know… I can’t stop thinking about her and I’ve never felt this way about any boy, or anyONE, period.

 

Jinsol replied instantly, being the best best friend she was.

 

Jinsollie: do you want me to call you? or are your mom n dad home?

 

I knew for a fact that they weren’t home. They’d gone to a late night exhibition of nineteenth century works and probably were going out with their friends afterwards.

 

Please

 

My phone rang almost immediately, and I picked up just as quickly. “Jinsol, I’m so...confused,” I began, forgoing the usual phone call pleasantries for the moment.

 

“That’s one hundred percent understandable, Hyunjin,” she reassured. “All first real crushes are like this, and I can’t imagine your first being a girl is any easier. But you’ve met this girl, like, what? Once?”

 

The pressure building in my eyes was beginning to grow, threatening to force out the tears I didn’t even know were building up. “Twice,” I corrected. “I went there yesterday and I’ve been...thinking about her ever since. I couldn’t believe how beautiful and nice and sweet she was. She’s like, a supermodel, why is she selling croissants?”

 

I could hear Jinsol laugh a bit. “What else do you know about her? Did anything special happen today that would have given her the impression you were interested in her?”

 

“I can barely talk. You think I can intentionally flirt? But seriously, she remembered me from yesterday, even remembered what I’d ordered. I was such a dork, though. She was asking for my number ticket, but I thought she was asking for my phone number. Luckily, she didn’t seem weirded out by that. Then after asking for my name to write on the box, she told me hers and I guess when I wasn’t paying attention, she...wrote her number on the box.” I let the words flow out of me like a bursting dam, wanting to get these feelings out of my head and verbalize them. “Everything about her is so pretty, and-- oh! I almost forgot, when I handed her my ticket, our hands touched.”

 

Jinsol was silent for a moment, thinking deeply about the situation while I waited in agony for her verdict. “She definitely likes you.”

 

I rolled my eyes despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “No way!”

 

“Yes way! First of all, her remembering you is a big giveaway. She didn’t have to devote brain cells to remembering that you liked croissants, but she did.” Before I could even protest or try to over-rationalize, she kept going. “And touching your hand? That’s never an accident, I guarantee. She was too graceful to do that. And, that thing about writing your name on the box? That’s bull. Mine and Kahei’s boxes didn’t have writing. It was a trick to give you her number. Heejin is totally into you. Try and change my mind.”

 

There were no holes in Jinsol’s logic, but I still spent a solid minute trying to explain away all the signals in my head. There was everything Jinsol said, and then there was more. The eye contact, the genuine sweetness in her voice, even the care she took in packaging my croissants, it was all becoming clearer. “You’re right,” I admitted. “She likes me, but do I like her?”

 

Jinsol let out a sputtery laugh and practically yelled in my ear, “You stupid idiot! Of course you like her!” I chuckled bashfully, twirling strands of my dark hair in between my fingers. Maybe she was right. “You can’t stop thinking about her, she makes you feel butterflies and your legs turn to jelly when you see her…”

 

Jinsol’s voice trailed off, causing me to raise a brow and stop fiddling with my hair. “Your intuition is off the charts as usual, but this almost sounds familiar to you. Something you’re not telling me?”

 

“Well…” I could hear her take a deep breath before answering me. “Remember that girl we went to school with? Kim Jungeun?” I recalled her and so Jinsol continued. “Well, when I came home for Halloween, I went to a party and she was there. We’d never really talked before, but that night, we just kinda, uh, gravitated toward each other. She was so...hot, if I’m being honest. After that night, we’ve been texting and stuff.” She had suddenly turned from a confident advisor to a shy, giddy schoolgirl.

 

“Aw! See, girl crushes are normal, Jinsol!” I gushed, parroting the words she said to me mere minutes ago.

 

“It’s, um, more than a crush… I really like her, Hyunjin,” she confessed rather meekly. “Like a fish loves water, like you love croissants. But I don’t think she knows. I’m supposed to see her in a couple days, and I know she likes girls, but I don’t know what to do.”

 

The tables had suddenly turned, and I felt unqualified to be giving relationship advice, but I would try my best for her. “Has she shown you any flirtatious signs like the ones you talked about?” I asked. I needed more information before saying anything.

 

“Well, um, she’s kinda touchy. She grabs at my arm a lot and sometimes tries to hold my hand.”

 

I smacked my forehead with my palm and let out a laugh through my nose. “I think you should just shoot your shot with her. If she likes you, she likes you. If not, well, she’s not worth the time.”

 

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” she responded after a moment or two with a very uncharacteristic soft tone of voice. “Good luck with your girl, and don’t forget to text her tomorrow!”

 

“Right back at you, Jinsollie,” I replied, feeling much more self-assured than before. “I really needed you right now and you came through.”

 

I was more sure of myself, but not so sure of the situation. All that I could hope for was this text leading to something more.

 

A/N: Please be sure to comment because I really appreciate your feedback and don’t forget to subscribe for story updates! I’m trying to update every week, but I start school literally tomorrow so we’ll see.  Thanks!