Part 2: Ganymede ; Exy/XuanYi ; Sometimes being in love with Xuan Yi makes Sojung forget that they are not in a real relationship.

a/n: 22k+ word count, plot heavy, slow burn, flashback and time-lapse heavy, mature themes, angst ahead. consider this your first and final warning. 

08.02.2020
 

They begin on a rainy night in the first week of August. Three urgent knocks before a playful drum of the fingers.

Chu Sojung finds Wu Xuan Yi on her doorstep; doll-like face, huge doe-eyes, cute mouth, rain-soaked hair splayed on the side of her head. She's drenched from head to foot, along with the three suitcases behind her.

Her “Hi, Sojung,” comes with a shiver.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re in town? I could’ve picked you up.” Sojung ushers her inside before she catches a cold.

“Sorry. It’s a kind of an emergency.” Xuan Yi smiles, sniffs, and Sojung realizes the water on her face isn’t just from the rain. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too. Bathroom’s over there. There’s a spare towel, too. Make yourself comfortable.” The phone in Sojung's pocket rings. The caller’s name reads Kim Jiyeon. Mildly irrirated, she answers, “I already told you I’m going to wear that bright red sweater the next time we meet. Quit bugging me already.”

“It’s not about that. Hey, congratulations! I thought you were going to tell me first but Xuan Yi will be—”

Xuan Yi steps back, “Jiyeon-ah, I’m here and—”

“And you’re dripping all over my floor. Go, go. Change first, talk later.” Sojung waves her away.

Xuan Yi smears something on her arm and hurriedly tiptoes to the bathroom. Sojung puts the phone on loudspeaker. She arranges Xuan Yi’s wet baggage beside the door and frowns at the soaked pair of white Gucci shoes.

“Ha! Told you so,” loud laughter erupts from the other end of the line.

“Was that Juyeon?”

“Sojung unnie, hello! I missed you so much,” Son Juyeon’s voice echoes in the background.

“Who else is there? Are you drinking again without me?” Sojung slumps on the couch.

“It’s Friday. There’s wine and vodka but Juyeon and Luda already hit their limit. Hyunjung unnie, too. Dayoung passed out a while ago. Wish you were here, though. It’s not fun drinking when everyone else can’t keep up.”

“Tell her that her lips look like dumplings.” The voice is faint, but definitely Hyunjung’s. Jiyeon laughs, brightly, followed by what sounds like a slap on the arm.

“Unnie, quit obsessing over my lips,” Sojung says loudly, “you’re embarrassing yourself.” She can picture them in her head; everyone sprawled over Jiyeon’s lavish penthouse seventy-one floors above the city, Dayoung already snoring on one of the beds, Luda and Juyeon playing video games on the wide plasma screen, and Hyunjung on the couch with her head on Jiyeon’s lap.

“Actually it’s more of Xuan Yi’s emergency than mine.” There’s shuffling on the other end of the line. Sojung guesses Jiyeon moved somewhere quieter. “Hey, you know her parents threatened to cut her off, right?”

“What?” Sojung’s voice comes out louder than expected. It’s hard to imagine Wu Xuan Yi not wrapped in Gucci or Louis Vuitton, or without Balenciaga sitting on her head.

“And since you just started dating, I figured you’re the first person she’ll go to,” Jiyeon hums. “Listen, whatever happens, you know we’re all here for you, right?”

“I don’t understand,” Sojung furrows her brows. The laughter in dies down completely.

As if on cue, Xuan Yi reappears beside her, wearing dry clothes and a towel on her head. There’s the trademark fresh watermelon scent, the very same one she used back in college. “I’ll talk to her.”

Sojung hands over the phone carefully. Xuan Yi looks apologetic. ‘I’ll explain later. Sorry,’ she mouths and takes the call to the bedroom.

As much as Sojung misses having her around, Xuan Yi hauling three suitcases of her life right on her doorstep in the middle of the rain isn’t a good sign at all.

Something about it doesn’t click. Then again, when it comes to Xuan Yi most things usually don’t.

Who cares about bringing an umbrella when summer rains are frequent, right?

When Xuan Yi comes back to the kitchen and hands her phone back, Sojung gives her a mug of coffee. “You told Jiyeon we’re dating, didn’t you?”

“I told my parents we’re dating.” Xuan Yi looks at her from the rim of her mug.

Sojung sputters on her own coffee. “Why the hell would you say something like that to your parents?”

“Let me explain first, Sojung, please?” Xuan Yi asks. When Sojung shrugs, she continues, “My parents threatened to cut me off if I don't introduce them to someone soon. It’s ridiculous, even for my standards. Dating, I mean.” Long slender fingers fidget over her mug. “A few days ago, I told them I was dating. I’m really sorry, Sojung, I wasn’t thinking. I blurted your name accidentally.”

“You don’t blurt someone’s name by accident.”

Sojung and Xuan Yi were good to each other in college as old friends go. They were too good, in fact, that aside from the playful banters they never really fought.

Sojung thinks this might finally be their first fight because one: everybody knows Xuan Yi’s parents. It’s not in the same way how everyone knows Yeoreum’s parents who send them fruits over the weekends or Juyeon’s parents who let them sleepover during the holidays.

And two: “You could’ve just said you’re dating Jiyeon to spare us both the trouble.”

Everybody knows Xuan Yi liked Jiyeon.

It’s not in the same way how Dayoung playfully tells Yeoreum that she likes her, or how you say you like chocolate ice cream the most. It’s the kind of like that Mei Qi had for Juyeon during college. A like that is too afraid to take another step.

“Why would I do that? Jiyeon is off the market a long time ago,” Xuan Yi laughs. “Surprisingly, my parents didn’t get angry or anything. They just wanted to make sure you were good to me. You know how protective they can get.”

“So,” Sojung looks at the pile of luggage by the corner of the room, “we’re going to be fake girlfriends until when?”

“It’s just for a couple of months. We’ll live in one house like we did in college. You’ll get my unconditional love and support—emotionally and financially.”

“I don’t get why we have to live together.”

“Oh, we don’t have to ‘live together’,” Xuan Yi curls her fingers for a quote and quote, “but the closer we are, the easier it is to coordinate our backstory. Besides, we need to make a lot of things up, kiss in public—”

“Hold it right there,” Sojung feels heat shoot up to her ears. “Kiss in public? Xuan Yi, I don’t even kiss anyone in private, and you’re asking me to kiss you in public?”

“If you want, we’ll practice kissing in private too.”

“You wish,” Sojung scoffs.

Xuan Yi laughs at that. “I told Xiao about this. Though I warned her if she’s going to tell Juyeon, she better keep shut at all times.”

“You’re allowed to let someone in on the secret but I’m not?”

“Hey, I’m the one being cut off here.”

“I don’t get why we need to act it out in front of our friends. We could just ask them to tell your parents we’re together if they’re asked.”

“Think of it as method acting. The more we practice our roles, the more people will believe us.”

“You’re asking me to lie to everyone.”

“I’m asking you to play along,” Xuan Yi reasons out.

“Yeah, but we can’t just get up after two months and tell everyone we faked it, can we? These are our closest friends we’re talking about.”

“We’ll think about it when we get there. Besides, two months isn’t even that long. It’s not like college where we see each other everyday. Before you know it, it’ll be over,” Xuan Yi says it so casual and nonchalant, with a brash confidence in her voice that makes Sojung think it’s nothing more than a social experiment or a harmless little prank.

A revenge plot for Jiyeon, maybe?

“I should be able to tell someone, right? Like how you told Cheng Xiao?”

“You can tell someone, Hyunjung unnie or someone else, but after a little while,” Xuan Yi replies as if she’d read her mind. “Once we settle down.”

“This is stupid.” Sojung runs her hands through her hair. “But since you already told your parents and Jiyeon knows about it, I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

Xuan Yi shakes her head apologetically. She offers to shoulder all of Sojung’s expenses for two months. Bills, rent, groceries, miscellaneous stuff. For the next two months, Chu Sojung is going to live like a millionaire.

Sojung figures it’s not that bad of a deal so she says, “Okay, sure. Why not?”

Xuan Yi smiles unbelievably wide like she’s going to rip her face in half.

They ease back into a rhythm of polite indifference. Arms drape over chairs, neither hostile nor too comfortable. How are yous and how have you beens and did you know x and y are dating and are you seeing someone else right now.

No, they both answer. Good. It would be complicated if either of them were.

Sharing a bed isn’t an issue since they often slept together back in college, though Sojung worries that Xuan Yi must be used to dreaming on silk sheets and silk-covered pillows instead of cheap, itchy polyester.

“I’ve never been picky, Sojung.” Xuan Yi pouts. “Stop acting like we haven’t been sleeping on cheap sheets for two years. I don’t mind sharing a bed.” A few seconds later, the bed dips down and she’s beside Sojung, smelling like watermelon and sweet things.

Before either one falls asleep, Sojung asks, even though somehow she already knows the answer, “Do you still like her?”

Silence.

“Jiyeon, I mean.”

“I’ll always like Jiyeon.” Xuan Yi doesn’t sound sad or regretful or anything. Her affection for Jiyeon had become a permanent part of her personality. Like the fact that Sojung and Hyunjung will always be around each other.

One way or another, their paths will always cross—it is a simple truth of their lives.

When Sojung’s family moved to Seoul a decade ago, Hyunjung’s family were the first ones to welcome them in the neighborhood. They have been in each other’s lives since then, trading memories, unsolicited yet always welcome. Open just for each other.

At the rate they’re going, Sojung expects their children would bury their bones right next to each other.

Soulmate-degree romantic if you think about it.

Sojung always tried not to. She and Hyunjung will never be more than best friends, Sojung made peace with that years ago. Still, as she gets reminded of Hyunjung and Jiyeon, a part of her aches for what could have been.

Back in college, Chu Sojung was a hotshot. She wasn’t as notorious as Im Nayeon or Kim Huihyeon, but she’s acquainted with most people she ran into during extra-curricular activities and late-night cafe visits. It wasn’t hard to find people when she and Hyunjung decided to rebuild the student council from the ground up. Hyunjung was complaining about the poor facilities and unorganized student activities when Sojung jokingly asked, “Instead of complaining so much, why don’t you change things yourself?”

So Kim Hyunjung ran for president with Chu Sojung as her vice.

Sojung herded the ones who shared the same principles—Soobin, Dawon, Luda, who all strongly recommended Son Juyeon. Juyeon, though younger than them, was already a household name like Sojung. She suggested a couple of names in return: Kim Jiyeon, who recently transferred from Daegu, and Wu Xuan Yi, an exchange student from China.

When they all came together, it was perfect. The chemistry was off the charts and they complimented each other’s personalities. Apart from that, they had several friends who completed their tight social circle: Cheng Xiao, Mei Qi and later on their youngests, Yeoreum, Yeonjung and Dayoung.

In the midst of preparing for the elections, people suspected something was going on between Hyunjung and Jiyeon. For two people who were seldom caught interacting, their relationship came a surprise to those who didn’t know them personally, and even more so to those who did.

Sojung walked in on them one strange day. Hyunjung and Jiyeon were sharing the couch in their meeting room, talking in low voices. Hyunjung casually draped a hand over Jiyeon’s kneecap, Jiyeon leaned closer for their shoulders to bump and murmured something. Hyunjung laughed and Jiyeon traced small circles over her knuckles with her fingers.

That moment Sojung realized those were not the moves of people who stopped at simple touching.

When asked about it, Hyunjung’s answer was simple: “We like each other,” as if she already expected Sojung to understand and be happy for her.

Kim Hyunjung was that kind of person. Sojung both loved and hated her for it.

In Hyunjung’s absence Sojung found Wu Xuan Yi’s presence strangely comforting. Xuan Yi was Jiyeon’s roommate, who drew everyone in with her boundless optimism. To Sojung she was a breath of fresh air because while Hyunjung needed watching over, Xuan Yi needed letting loose.

The only catch was Xuan Yi was stuck to Jiyeon like how Sojung was to Hyunjung.

“They’re very suspicious, don’t you think?” Xuan Yi asked. “Jiyeon never mentioned she’s interested in someone. I guess they’re really good at hiding.”

“You sound like you’re not rooting for them at all,” Sojung mused. “Don’t you like Hyunjung unnie?”

“She’s okay but I like Jiyeon,” Xuan Yi said with such confidence and laughed silly without a crack in her voice that Sojung thought she was either very brave or very stupid. “Do you think they’ll be together for a long time?”

Sojung shrugged. The Kim Hyunjung she knew was built for commitments and not one-night stands and summer flings so she answered, “Probably.”

Probably became yes because three years later Hyunjung and Jiyeon are still together and very much in love.

Perhaps, Sojung thinks, that the reason why she and Xuan Yi never had a huge misunderstanding despite the language barrier was that they are the same person down to the very core.

The people they like do not like them back.

Sojung and Xuan Yi were jealous and were aware of each other’s jealousy. When it comes down to it, they understand each other’s pain.

Perhaps, this too is the reason why Sojung agreed to Xuan Yi’s proposal. At the back of her head, she knows that even without the money she would have agreed anyway.

Oddly, when Xuan Yi suggests something it’s easy to agree to it.

Even the most outrageous things like kissing first before they talk, Sojung shrugs a “Why not?” so they start with a long kiss on the cheek then a smack on the lips. If the occasion calls for it they resort to a full make-out session.

Nothing personal, Xuan Yi reassures her.

It’s their thing now—their secret handshake, except that it’s a secret that everyone should know.

Eleven pairs of eyes turn with curiosity. Xuan Yi leans into her ear, her good side facing the crowd.

“Kiss me again while everyone’s still looking.”

Sojung obliges. She holds the side of Xuan Yi’s head and leans in. Three seconds, she counts in her head, full on the mouth. Soft lips and tongue and cherries and she’s not breathing anymore. Xuan Yi is a good kisser especially when she’s pretending into it.

At a dinner with their friends they resort to playing with each other’s fingers on top of the table. “Don’t laugh too loud,” Xuan Yi reminds her, “you look like you’re trying too hard.”

Sojung giggles louder. Xuan Yi elbows her in the ribs.

Soobin makes a disgusted face at Xuan Yi, “Unnie, out of all people in the world... I always thought you could do better.”

“You give me too little credit,” Sojung turns to everyone. “Who took care of all of you back in college?”

Soobin doesn’t think twice and swings a hand in Juyeon’s direction. Hyunjung, along with more than half the table, points to Juyeon as well. Juyeon points to Yeoreum. Cheng Xiao, Mei Qi and Xuan Yi point at each other.

Only Dayoung, who shoves a huge wrap in and makes half a heart over her head with her other hand points to Sojung. “Loff you, unnie.”

Sojung replies with a finger-heart. Granted, they called her 'leader' more than a few times but she thinks it’s only because she’s the only one who could herd them for the mess they were.

They spend the rest of the dinner catching up. It’s tradition to gather in Juyeon’s house whenever someone graduates. It keeps them from drifting away from each other, especially from the ones chasing their dreams outside the country: Dawon, who’s occasionally in France, and until now, Xuan Yi, Cheng Xiao and Mei Qi, who rarely left China.

“A love story three years in the making? How did you realize your feelings for each other?” Yeonjung suddenly asks from the other end of the table.

Eleven pairs of eyes turn to Sojung and Xuan Yi, hungry for the tiniest piece of gossip because they couldn’t have possibly missed a secret rendezvous or a love confession when at one point in their lives they’ve been together twenty-four seven.

Hyunjung and Jiyeon’s case was enough. Being kept in the dark twice would be too much for a group of friends.

Xuan Yi leans back on her seat and smiles at Sojung as if to say go ahead, do the honors. Tell them what we agreed on last night.

“You’re a better story-teller than me,” Sojung curls her lips, teeth-bared in an attempt to cover her growing distress with a smile.

Xuan Yi flashes a fake smile and stomps on her toe. Under the table, Sojung nudges her with an elbow. With equal grit and puppy eyes, Xuan Yi asks, “Please, babe?”

Somebody gags in the background. Soobin, most likely.

Sojung gives Xuan Yi a look of disdain, which could be misread as heated seduction, “It just happened,” she tells them what everyone knows first: that after their graduation Xuan Yi went back to China to set up her own fashion boutique while Sojung became a freelance music producer. Then she moves on to the things that only she and Xuan Yi are supposed to know—like how during one of Xuan Yi’s business trips six months ago, Sojung surprised her with flowers and Xuan Yi gave her chocolates in return.

Sojung makes up stories about their first date by the Han River, their second at the Seoul Tower, and their third in Jeju, where she officially asked her to be her girlfriend. She throws in an extra bit and tells them how Xuan Yi’s considering of expanding her branch from Seoul to Busan to be closer to her.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking unnie, but I thought we shouldn’t keep secrets from each other?” Dawon muses.

“No, no. It wasn’t a secret,” Sojung rushes to add. “We were actually waiting for a gathering like this to tell everyone.”

“Did Hyunjung unnie know? Did Xiao know?”

Hyunjung narrows her gaze at Sojung and tilts her head, looking unsure. Cheng Xiao, on the other hand, nods solemnly as if to say: we’re the best friends. Of course, we know. Her wordless agreement appeases the rest of the girls for now.

Before Sojung gets lost in the barrage of questions from the rest of their friends Hyunjung steers her to the veranda. “Tell me this is a joke.”

“What joke?” Sojung shakes her hand away.

“You and Xuan Yi. I know you haven’t seen each other in weeks. Months.”

“We have. You just didn’t know,” Sojung levels her expression.

“You hid it from everyone? I don’t believe you,” Hyunjung’s eyes stay on hers. If Sojung doesn’t know any better, she looks irritated. Disappointed, too, judging from the way her hands are perched on her hips. “Stop lying, Chu Sojung. I can see through it. What are you in for? Money?”

“Unnie, you sound jealous. I’m not lying,” Sojung scoffs. Without thinking, she blurts out a line that’s been wanting to claw out of for several years now: “Xuan Yi and I like each other.”

Hyunjung narrows her eyes and takes a sharp inhale before walking away. Past the kitchen to the garden, Sojung waits for Xuan Yi, who’s still talking with Luda. After goodbyes, everyone parts ways. Sojung and Xuan Yi are quiet most of the drive home.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve let Hyunjung unnie in on this sooner,” Xuan Yi speaks low Sojung almost doesn’t hear it.

“We’ll be okay. I’ll tell her sooner or later anyway.”

“I hope you do. All things considering, I think our first day was successful.”

“You think we should kiss longer next time?” Sojung an eyebrow.

“Do you want to?” Xuan Yi does a double-take at her.

“You wish,” Sojung grins. On the corner of her eyes, she catches a familiar strip glimmering in the night. “There’s the Han River on your right.”

“Wasn't that where our second date happened?”

“First. See, I knew you weren’t listening!”

“I did. It was something about a picnic, right? Our first date was a picnic,” Xuan Yi’s tone changes. Sojung sees a warm smile on the periphery of her vision, eyes lost far away as if the memory she was trying to remember was real. Oscar-worthy. “You gave me flowers. It took my breath away. Those red roses—I loved them, Sojung,” she murmurs, “I put them in cute vases and watered them every morning.”

“If you said that a while ago in front of everyone they’d be sold.”

No reply.

Sojung glances to her side and sees Xuan Yi fiddling with a wristwatch. Elegant slim black leather strap, gold lining, “that’s a y watch.”

“A friend gave it to me,” Xuan Yi smiles fondly, strapping it around her wrist. “It only looks y because I’m the one wearing it.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night,” Sojung snorts.

Perhaps, there are a dozen different things happening at that moment; Xuan Yi facing Sojung, her eyes on her face, watching her expression change at her words that everything else stops to matter, “Hey, give me another kiss, Sojung-ah.”

“I’m driving and there’s nobody around to see it.”

“You let me kiss you on the cheek all the time back in college,” Xuan Yi pouts.

“That was on the cheek and that was not all the time.”

“Let me kiss you just on the cheek, then.”

Sojung pretends not to see her, swatting at her side when her face comes too close. On Xuan Yi’s third try she decides to give in but Xuan Yi’s kiss doesn’t reach her cheek.

When Sojung turns, Xuan Yi is looking back on the road, horrified, “Oh my god, Sojung, there’s a—”

The lights ahead are too bright. One of them screams, then both of them do. Sojung doesn’t see the headlights of a ten-wheeler until it blinds her. Time pauses for her to take one long breath before the world spins. Her arm is outstretched over Xuan Yi’s body in the passenger seat, nails deep in the leather like a human seatbelt.

The car spins and crashes into the wall. Sojung hears a sharp crunch. Cold rushes up her spine, to the back of her head. She parts her lips to breathe through but tastes copper. There’s pounding between her temple and her ears are ringing. Something warm drips down the side of her head.

One slow heavy blink. Two. Someone is yelling her name. Hands fumble around to unbuckle her seatbelt. She’s rolled over and pulled aside on the asphalt. She couldn’t see anything clearly, just blurs of moving colors and dark shapes. The slim arms around her tighten, pulling her close.

“No. No, no, no, no, Sojung, please,” Someone chants like a mantra, then stammers in something that Sojung doesn’t understand, “—it’s too early Sojung, not again, please.”

“Are you—” Sojung gasps, “Xuan Yi, are you alright?” and she knows it’s Xuan Yi because she could smell the watermelon perfume through the blood. Then her chest tightens. Something gets stuck in , wedged in her windpipe, and suddenly she can’t breathe. It’s too sudden, too abrupt. She’s too young and she doesn’t want to die yet and it’s almost Jiyeon’s birthday and nobody’s going to tell Hyunjung she’s sor—

“Sojung, it’s okay. I’m right here. You’ll be okay,” Xuan Yi sobs in her ear. “I’ll make it go away, I promise. Stay with me. I’ll make it right. I—”

Everything stills in the darkness.

*

The Artist Development Department is busiest on Thursdays.

At 1pm, Sojung’s workplace lurches to and fro in a beastly fashion. Everyone is moving. The louder your voice is, the easier it is to remind Jackson not to panic because the printer can sense deadlines and tell Huihyeon that the board meeting’s moved from 3pm to 2pm.

Chungha scurries past Sojung in a hurry, “I already left Nahyun a note, but just in case she asks for me, tell her I’m going to the recording studio on the left wing.”

“I think Hyunjung unnie went there earlier. I’ll pass the message,” Sojung stacks the mess of papers on her desk. “Is that for the demo you’ve been working on since last week?”

“Yeah, thanks. How’s your song coming, though?” Chungha rocks on her heels.

“Which one?”

“Untitled no. 14 with lyrics about spring.”

Chungha probably means You & I. It’s become a habit of Sojung to keep the titles of her songs in the dark until the official release date is announced.

As she’s about to reply, a series of knocks turn everyone's attention to the other side of the room. Namjoo does a full sweep with her eyes before they land on Sojung’s. “Somebody’s waiting for you outside.”

Though she isn’t expecting anyone today, Sojung hurries out. On the other end of the corridor beside Namjoo stands Wu Xuan Yi, her hair tied low, clad in all-black top and shorts, accented with a gold necklace and designer bag. “I got off early so I figured I’d drop by,” Xuan Yi says. “Missed me?”

Sojung shakes her head and opens her arms, “Come here.” Xuan Yi rushes to hug her, skipping at every step. Namjoo clears and walks away. When she’s out of sight, they untangle themselves from each other.

“I was bored,” Xuan Yi confesses, irresistible eyes and all. “I hope I’m not disturbing your work.”

“No. I’m done for the day. In fact, I could leave early,” Sojung rolls her shoulders.

“You could. And you know what, we could do groceries. I checked your fridge this morning and there’s nothing edible anymore. Take-outs aren’t healthy.”

“Says the one who eats dried seaweed five times a day.”

“That’s a different story,” Xuan Yi nudges her in the ribs. “Go, go.”

Sojung takes it as her cue to go back inside the office to grab her things. On the way out, she drops by Nahyun’s desk to tell her about Chungha. Just about she turns the corner, she catches sight of a familiar pair of flat black eyes.

“Out early?” Hyunjung asks, walking in her direction.

“I have a date,” Sojung grins and nods to Xuan Yi, who’s waiting by the end of the hallway.

“Oh? Have fun,” Hyunjung narrows her eyes as she passes by. She didn’t look jealous, no.

Betrayed? Maybe.

But had she not thought about the same thing years ago when she presented Jiyeon to Sojung as her girlfriend without any warning that she’s going to break Sojung at that very moment?

Or does Hyunjung not approve of Xuan Yi?

But who could possibly not approve of Wu Xuan Yi when she’s on everyone’s ideal girlfriend list; golden-hearted, beautiful, rich, spontaneous, easy to get along with and will prioritize you over everyone else? Even Sojung finds herself sympathizing with Cheng Xiao when Xuan Yi denied her invitation to hang out.

“Can’t. I’m with my girlfriend,” Xuan Yi tells Cheng Xiao over the phone, shushing Sojung when she snickers. “We’re doing groceries right now.”

Sojung juggles two different brands of cheese on her hands, trying to remember which one her mother always used.

Xuan Yi doesn’t seem to care because she makes a motion with her other hand that says: take both. “...I know we’re not really but— how about next week? Thursday?”

Sojung dumps both kinds of cheese in the grocery cart and speaks aloud for Cheng Xiao, “We might not be dating but we’re really doing groceries. Our hunger is real.”

Xuan Yi ignores her and walks further down the aisle, “I know, we all have priorities... but Sojung comes first.” She points to the stack of instant noodles. “More,” she says, when Sojung only grabs two, “No...more. Xiao Xiao, hold on. Sojung-ah, more. Four.”

Sojung narrows her eyes. “No more than four?”

“More than four.”

“Say good luck to your liver for me,” Sojung teases, but tosses a couple more in the cart because Xuan Yi might get hungry in the middle of the night.

Before going home they stop by a nearby cafe where Sojung dared Xuan Yi to order for them. As Sojung expected, it turns to a disaster with Xuan Yi spending at least a minute in front of the counter getting the orders right.

The thing with Xuan Yi is it’s very easy to like her. Even if her words are clumsy, even if her smiles are stitched with promises that hold nothing and everything. Everyone knows she’s filthy rich but sometimes it seems that she prefers much simpler things like treating someone a drink.

Or never letting you drive ever again.

“I swear to God, Wu Xuan Yi, this is my car. My streets,” Sojung exasperates as she scoots over to the passenger seat. “You didn’t even let me drive back home from Juyeon’s house, too. What’s your deal?”

“You were tipsy, Sojung, that’s what. I missed driving, too.” Xuan Yi does not give her more than a glint in her expressive doe-eyes and a smile that borders on polite and genuine; never rude. She sounds mildly irritated but a smile remains on her face.

“I’m complaining because I know I wasn’t tipsy. You drive like Hyunjung unnie,” Sojung laughs, imitating the weird hand gestures Hyunjung used to make. “At this pace, we’ll arrive just in time the mall closes,” she tries to get a huge smile out of Xuan Yi but she only looks more irritated.

“Better safe than sorry. We can buy gifts this weekend if we don’t make it in time,” Xuan Yi replies flatly.

Eventually, Sojung gives up and lets Xuan Yi plod through the rush hour. As she gnaws through packets of dried seaweed between red light pauses, Xuan Yi tells Sojung how she feels like it’s going to rain hard tonight.

Sojung rolls the window down and sticks an arm out, “I don’t think so.”

Xuan Yi’s confident grin says otherwise. You’d think she’d won the lottery or something. “It always rains on the 11th of August.”

A sparkle on her wrist catches Sojung’s attention. It’s a gold-lined watch with a slim black leather strap. Below it is a lazily written string of numbers. “That’s a y watch.”

“A friend gave it to me.”

“What’s that on your arm?”

Xuan Yi’s smile is as tight as her grip on the wheel. She tilts her arm. Sojung squints at the nearly unreadable 08.11.2020 below her wristwatch. Today’s date. “You wrote that? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Year first then month then date? It looks dirty.”

“Why are you complaining so much?” Xuan Yi turns to her with a poker face and hits on the arm playfully. “Do you bathe me? Besides, it’s to keep track of things. You know how I’m bad at dates in general.”

“There’s something called a smartphone.”

“There’s something called minding your own business.” Xuan Yi pokes her cheek and adds, “Stupid.”

Sojung doesn’t ask about it again, thinking it’s most likely one of Xuan Yi’s countless quirks.

Before Sojung knows it, her small apartment becomes filled with Wu Xuan Yi: her pink toothbrush, her favorite pair of pajamas, several packs of dried seaweed in the cupboard, a sock missing a pair by the doorway, strands of long wavy black hair on the dresser, watermelon scent marking all corners; the pitch of her laughter, her whining, her practiced lines when somebody asks her about what she likes about Sojung the most over dinner.

“My everything,” Sojung suggests. “It shouldn’t be a problem telling people you love everything about me.”

“They’re going to ask for specifics,” Xuan Yi waves her fork. She twirls it around the pasta, pleased at their little experiment. “We should add more sauce next time.”

Sojung takes her first bite and agrees. More sauce next time. “Well, tell them that I’m not—” she pauses, “that my imperfections make you love me more. Tell them you like my everything. People eat that stuff up all the time.”

“You’re funny, Sojung.”

“That wasn’t supposed to come out funny,” Sojung protests. 

“The funny—I meant the way you talk. The words that come out of your mouth. They’re funny.”

“So I’m just a joke to you,” Sojung teases, her expression dropping completely.

“You were never a joke to me,” Xuan Yi mutters. “I do like everything about you.”

It must be at that moment that set the ball rolling. Xuan Yi’s comment, casually uttered and Sojung fumbling at her thoughts, scrambling and unscrambling the parts of her brain that wanted to respond seriously that she ended up not saying what Xuan Yi wanted to hear.

“You’re a great friend, Sojung,” Xuan Yi adds. Perhaps to ease the brewing awkwardness.

“Of course, I am always the great friend,” Sojung feigns confidence, lets a nervous smirk work its way across her lips.

It's always in the eyes, Hyunjung used to tell Sojung. You could see everything if you look hard enough. Lately, Sojung notices Xuan Yi's eyes are always in a haze. Half the time wandering beyond the horizon, the other half lost in the space between their lips.

When Sojung meets her gaze and Xuan Yi doesn’t look away—two seconds, three, five, neither one breaking the shared line of sight, she feels a looming shadow from behind. Ten seconds. Long silence. Her vision tunnels. Look away, she thinks. Step back.

Do not cross this terrible line.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Xuan Yi concludes.

“You have your answer, then. To the thing you like the most about me.”

Sojung swears Xuan Yi’s face isn’t this close just a second ago yet she’s inching even closer. When she kisses the palm on the side of her face, Xuan Yi tells her it tickles. Something about the way she says it makes Sojung lean in for a kiss.

A practice kiss, of course.

The audience are ers for impulse kisses.

Xuan Yi kisses her back, slowly at first, then it’s as if they are outside. As if they are being watched that neither of them want to stop.

Through the night Sojung waits for Xuan Yi to say ‘Let’s try another kiss next time.’ or something indicative that what happened was part of the act and not acted upon the sheer impulse of want, regardless of their pretense. Instead, Xuan Yi turns to face her on the bed, holds her face and kisses her on the lips. A good night kiss, chaste with a hint of passion, before pulling back with a little smile and a glint in her eyes, that Sojung loses sleep entirely.

Do not cross this terrible line, Sojung thought, unaware that she already stepped on it years ago, smeared on it until it blurred, until neither of them notice there was once a fine line between pretense and reality.

*

Xuan Yi is everywhere Sojung looked; sitting across the dining table, curled up on the bed beside her, hovering around in a different crowd in the corner of her eyes. She makes Sojung happy. Not the happy that gets forgotten in a couple of hours, but the kind that slithers deep into the mind and blends with the memories. One that surrounds the heart and squeezes it so tight and secure and painful when tugged at the wrong places.

Undoubtedly, it feels different from what they shared back in college.

That was friendship.

This is something else entirely.

It’s as if Sojung met Xuan Yi for the first time all over again. As if she’s relearned her quirks from a different perspective, the unique patterns of her speech with a fresh ear, the planes on her face with a different light.

In time, their actions become instinctive. It’s become rule of thumb to do what they feel like doing. Sojung doesn’t need people in the corner of her eyes to kiss Xuan Yi and Xuan Yi doesn’t seem to mind kissing her back no matter who the audience is or lack thereof.

Buying gifts for Jiyeon’s birthday becomes a date that is not a date.

Sojung couldn’t remember how she ended up like this, eagerly giving out opinions whenever Xuan Yi asks about how she looks with this beret and that bomber jacket and those leather boots and casually kissing her in between.

Perhaps it was because they bought gifts quickly. Or maybe they were looking for more excuses to pretend in front of people.

The elevator opens to an empty car. Xuan Yi steps in first but not before lacing her fingers with Sojung’s and pulling her in. Sojung loses her balance but Xuan Yi steadies her with an arm. Call it fate or divine intervention but as soon as they lean for a chaste kiss, a tuft of long pale-blonde hair and a smaller girl beside her make them jump apart.

They make space for Hyunjung, who's holding a neatly-wrapped baby blue box, and Soobin, who has a paper bag tucked between her hands. Soobin coughs in her fist but the giggles that escape her lips are too loud to be ignored.

Sojung clears . Xuan Yi elbows her in the ribs. Sojung hisses a ‘What?”

“It’s just us. We’re all going up, right?” Hyunjung glances behind her, eyes darting to the huge paper bags in Sojung and Xuan Yi’s hands then up to their flushed faces before pressing 71.

On the ride up to the 71st floor, Xuan Yi fills the awkward silence with questions about what they got for Jiyeon. Soobin indulges her and together they play a guessing game.

Sojung asks Hyunjung as well but not out of curiosity. Hyunjung gives her a bashful smile before saying, “It’s something special.”

“Oh—we got the same gift then?” Sojung grins.

“I doubt it,” Hyunjung smiles wider.

When they arrive at Jiyeon’s penthouse, Sojung hears Yeonjung shouting first. Then there are three people running around in a blur, Yeonjung, Dayoung and Yeoreum for heavens knows what. Pastel-colored balloons fill the high ceiling. Fairy lights drape all over the modern interior, giving everything a soft glow. Dreamlike. Juyeon is on a tall ladder, adjusting the pink letter balloons that spell out ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM JIYEON’ on the wooden decorative panel.

“Unnie, they’re here!”

“Yah, where’s the birthday girl?” Sojung calls out as they walk by the tall glass windows.

Jiyeon peeks from the kitchen, smiling brightly. Xuan Yi pounces on her with a tight hug and a huge smile. Soobin hugs and greets her next then Sojung before they help Dayoung in the kitchen.

“I thought you’re going to buy out like last year? Why are you doing everything by yourself?” Sojung stacks the ceramic plates on the end of the long table.

“Nothing special. Just for experience,” Jiyeon hums.

“Luda unnie dared her,” Juyeon quips, hopping down from the ladder. Yeonjung helps her put it away.

“No, she did not,” Jiyeon retorts.

“Double dared,” Yeoreum chuckles.

“She did not,” Jiyeon repeats.

Xuan Yi’s eyes sweep the room. The youngests, Jiyeon, Juyeon, Soobin, Hyunjung and Sojung—nine including her. “Speaking of Luda, where is she?”

“She said she’s going to run some errands first,” Juyeon says.

In the corner of her eyes, Sojung notices Hyunjung break line and hand Jiyeon the small blue box with a curl of her lips and a murmur of “Happy birthday.” and Jiyeon’s quiet reply of, “Unnie, thank you.”

Sojung expected dozens of people crashing in Jiyeon’s penthouse like her past birthdays but it turns out Jiyeon arranged a separate party for her acquaintances and co-workers.

Tonight, it’s just their tight circle of friends from college minus Mei Qi, Cheng Xiao and Dawon, who are out of the country. There's several rounds of karaoke over gigantic speakers, food and drinks for days, the lively buzz of intoxication, rowdy laughter and inside jokes.

Everyone huddles around the table full of gifts in the living room. As Jiyeon opens them one after another, Sojung and Juyeon’s guffaws become louder because coincidentally or not, each gift turns out to be more expensive than the last.

From Soobin’s cosmetic set to Yeonjung’s winter sweater to Dayoung’s chic bag to Yeoreum’s gadget accessories to Juyeon’s books from Jiyeon’s favorite author to Sojung’s sophisticated swimwear to Hyunjung’s gold-plated round spectacles to Luda’s expensive pair of white shoes then, finally, to Xuan Yi’s whopping 24-karat gold bracelet that she puts around Jiyeon’s slim wrist with a proud smile in front of everyone. Even in front of Hyunjung, who’s watching everything from behind Soobin’s shoulders.

Sojung thinks she must have some sort of death wish until Xuan Yi pecks a kiss on her cheek when she goes back to sit beside her.

“You look jealous. It’s all over your face,” Xuan Yi nudges her side, her eyebrows wriggling. “Is it because I gave Jiyeon a cute bracelet?”

“What are you saying? I can afford a bracelet,” Sojung looks at her with disgust before chuckling.

“Well, you have all my love and affection,” Xuan Yi pokes Sojung on the cheek, hooks an arm around hers, and nuzzles into her shoulder.

Then everything’s forgiven, just like that.

Is Sojung jealous?

Of whom? Of what? Of Jiyeon appreciating everyone else’s gifts more? Of how Hyunjung and Jiyeon look at each other? Of how Xuan Yi looks at Jiyeon? Of how Xuan Yi put a bracelet around Jiyeon’s wrist?

Of how Sojung wishes it was her wrist instead? Maybe even her neck, too.

No doubt Xuan Yi’s fingers would look better on her.

The rest of the night passes by indulging Jiyeon’s requests. Sojung invites everyone back to living room because Soobin and Juyeon refuse to call it a night without playing beer pong. They drink until they can’t and laugh until they run out of jokes. It’s always chaotic fun when they’re together.

After some time, Sojung and Hyunjung find themselves beside each other, leaning over the metal railings of the wide balcony. Hyunjung pulls her jacket tighter around herself and the red hoodie over her head, her blonde hair spilling from the sides. Sojung is facing the other way, folded elbows on the railings. She watches the rest of their friends dance inside, hoping they’ll all be together the next time they gather.

Xuan Yi waves at them from the living room before turning away. Sojung waves back. She turns to Hyunjung, “Unnie, about Xuan Yi—”

“You and Xuan Yi,” Hyunjung interrupts, her gaze flickering to her, then to the silhouettes beyond the flowing white curtains. “I should’ve trusted you more. I overreacted.” This is her way of saying sorry.

Sojung thinks of speaking against it. Tell Hyunjung that no, they’re not real. It’s all play-pretend. She and Xuan Yi are nothing more than good friends. She meets Hyunjung’s eyes long enough to see the sincerity and the thoughts remain in her head, “You did.” This is her way of forgiving.

“It’s always work with you, Sojung. Sometimes you forget to enjoy all the little things. You’ve always had a soft spot for Xuan Yi back in college. I think she’s good for you.”

“Yeah. I think she is, too.” Sojung takes a deep breath, “I’m meeting her parents next week. They’re taking a trip here to check how Xuan Yi-” quote and quote, “-handles her business.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Xuan Yi said her parents want to see me soon.”

“You’re good with people. You’ll do well.”

“Unnie, how are you and Jiyeon? You both can be a handful sometimes.”

“We’re alright,” Hyunjung replies.

Something about the way she smiles right after makes Sojung think that Hyunjung and Jiyeon are better than ever so she doesn’t ask anymore.

The night fades slowly. Bodies tumble over each other on silk beds; Soobin passing out in one of the guest rooms, Xuan Yi and Luda bickering outside, Dayoung sprawling all over the sofa and catching chips with that Yeonjung and Yeoreum take turns throwing, Juyeon cleaning up everyone’s mess a little.

One moment Hyunjung and Jiyeon are lingering by the balcony. The next time Sojung glances outside, Hyunjung is clasping something around Jiyeon’s neck. Jiyeon turns and the light bounces off her silver necklace. She wraps her arms around Hyunjung’s neck, a lovely eyesmile and an unmistakable I love you too murmured under the moonlight.

Sojung looks away as they’re about to kiss. She walks around the opposite side of the balcony, surprised to find Xuan Yi and Luda are still going at it.

The thing with Xuan Yi is Sojung has never seen her angry. Maybe the academically-frustrated, sleep-deprived angry that goes away after exams are over but not the full-blown, red-eyed anger with white-knuckled fists and gritted teeth that's going at Luda.

“No, you don’t understand…” Even the tone of Xuan Yi’s voice is alarming, “I’m paying the price of a choice I didn’t make—”

“—chance not choice. I calculated— already did everything for you— you just have to trust me… unnie, my memory—” Luda insists.

“…I can barely keep up —how it feels like living in some unreal… getting more and more detached—”

They must’ve noticed Sojung approach because the too-loud air halts all of a sudden and silence spills around them.

Sojung turns to Xuan Yi and all she can see is the red in her eyes. Xuan Yi takes a deep breath before storming back inside. Luda looks away, dejected, her unnatural stance making her look smaller than she already is.

Has she always slouched like that?

“We’ll talk later,” Sojung tells Luda, sternly, who shrugs, before catching up to Xuan Yi.

Sojung finds Xuan Yi in one of the guest rooms, sitting cross-legged on the bed. The huge pout on her lips would’ve looked adorable if it weren’t for the rage in her eyes and her balled fists. Sojung sits beside her, “What is it?”

Xuan Yi doesn’t meet her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You sounded like you were fighting over something.”

“Stop being nosy, Sojung.”

Sojung would’ve been taken back if it was spoken harshly, but Xuan Yi mumbles it, almost like a whisper in a tiny voice, that she couldn’t help but respond with a pout. “Is being concerned considered nosy nowadays?”

Xuan Yi does a double-take on her. “What are you doing? Why are you acting cute?”

“What? I’m not doing anything,” Sojung doesn’t lose the pout but Xuan Yi seems to lose the anger. Her glare softens and her expression drops. Sojung takes the opportunity to take her hand and lace their fingers together.

Xuan Yi glances down to their linked hands and sighs. “It’s nothing, really. Luda and I just had a misunderstanding.”

“But you walked out,” Sojung pouts some more.

“That’s because you were going to interfere.”

“You’re right. I should’ve grabbed popcorn and enjoyed the show.”

“Sojung.”

“Do you have any other ideas? I’m open to suggestions. Maybe I should’ve called Jiyeon, too?”

“Chu Sojung, I can’t take you seriously if you keep on pouting. Stop acting cute.”

Sojung leans closer to tease, her pout unwavering, and there it is, the small curl on Xuan Yi’s lips that she has been trying to get out.

Xuan Yi gives her the usual look of disbelief, a shake of the head. “You’re hopeless,” she says, before she closes the distance between their lips and kisses her. Sojung isn’t surprised at her own eagerness or even Xuan Yi’s, who’s smiling in between butterfly kisses.

What’s one kiss when they’ve already kissed a hundred times before, right?

*

Sojung only met Xuan Yi’s parents twice.

One was five days before Christmas of their junior year when Xuan Yi was in a rebellious streak. The other was in a celebratory gala when Xuan Yi opened her first boutique. In both occasions, Xuan Yi’s mother regarded Sojung with a steel gaze, while Xuan Yi’s father told her in practiced Korean: “Thank you for looking after our Xuan Yi.”

“I don’t know why but they’re really fond of you. My father, especially,” Xuan Yi looks at Sojung through the full-body mirror. She’s wearing a vibrant red dress, embroidered in swirls of gold. It opens delicately at the back, exposing her slender spine and wing bones. “How do I look?” her lips break into a smile, and Sojung feels a sudden burn in her chest.

“You look like a princess,” Sojung tells her. “Queen?”

“Queen of what?”

“Queen of my heart,” Sojung confesses, though halfway through she’s chuckling obnoxiously. “This is getting too cheesy, even for me.”

Xuan Yi turns, beaming, “Eyy, you know I like stuff like those. The cheesier, the better.” she eyes her up and down, “You don’t look bad yourself, Sojung.”

Sojung moves to stand behind Xuan Yi, admiring the crafty handiwork of her own dress. It’s a flowing gown, sable black embroidered with go