Heejin’s right leg shakes so hard that the guitar case beside her almost falls, only to be caught by the cushion of the train’s seating. If Haseul were still with her, she would have reprimanded the younger girl for giving into her bad habit, but the older girl had caught a glimpse of the letter and left to another carriage to, quote-unquote, give Heejin some privacy. 

“So she’s finally given it to you, huh?” Haseul had asked before she left, an unreadable smile on her face. “I’m glad. Honestly, I thought she’d chicken out again.”

Heejin traces the lettering of her name with her index finger, smiling sadly at the rip that had been hastily taped over, the tape barely holding the paper together. She recognises it as the same letter she saw stuffed in Hyunjin’s drawer that night when she had asked the other girl to be friends again. 

She bites her lip out of guilt that she had unknowingly made Hyunjin feel as if she couldn’t show this letter to her. The guilt only intensifies as her eyes pass a patchy smudge which had gone through the paper, no doubt caused by tears shed by the other girl.

The thought that she had made the other girl cry by ignoring their feelings towards each other wrenches her heart. She had never meant to hurt Hyunjin, in fact, her decision to keep things the way they were had the exact opposite intention.

Taking in a shaky breath, she finally unfolds the paper situated on her lap and starts to read.

Dear Heejin,

I know you’re probably thinking “what the hell is this letter?” and honestly, I’m thinking the same thing. I’ve tried to write this thing like a hundred times now and I can never get the words right. 

I don’t quite understand what I’m thinking, or feeling, or anything when it comes to this.  But there’s something in my head screaming at me that I don’t have to understand - all I have to know is that I feel something, something I’ve never felt before, and it’s for you.

Usually, I’d make a joke or try to deny how I feel but I can’t anymore. I can’t keep pretending that what I feel about you doesn’t exist. So I’ll just say it (or write it, I suppose)

I love you.

Heejin’s breath hitches. She reads the line again, sure she must have just imagined the words out of sheer want, but there they remained. She had guessed the intent of the letter (of course, there are only a few reasons why a girl would hand someone a letter with a heart drawn beside their name) but she hadn’t expected to see Hyunjin’s feelings written so clearly and bluntly.

Or at least, I think I do? I’ve been trying to process it for the past few days but it still doesn’t really make sense to me.

See, I thought it started that night on the beach. For whatever reason, I just really wanted to kiss you. I felt sick at the thought that someone else could be your first kiss. That was the first time I realised that I felt something more than friendship. But if I look back, I think it started a lot longer than that.

I’m writing this on the 27th, so it’s been about two hundred days since we first met. Two hundred days ago you walked into that classroom. You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. You still are. I felt like I had to know you or I’d regret it. So I let you sit next to me and the two hundred days after that have been the happiest days I’ve ever had.

Heejin bites back a smile but it still breaks out onto her face, finding the fond way Hyunjin described their meeting indescribably adorable. She finds it a little funny that Hyunjin thinks that she’s the most beautiful girl in the world, when Heejin herself thinks similarly of Hyunjin.

Who knew Hyunjin could be so mushy and sentimental? Heejin herself had only seen this side of Hyunjin a handful of times, usually on the nights when she had ran from her parents and Hyunjin calmed her with promises of protection and warmth, and now it is immortalised in the sweetest letter she’s ever received. 

And these past three days have been the saddest. Being away from you is ing torture, the silence is honestly driving me crazy. I know it’s all my fault that we’re ignoring each other. 

I pushed you away because I was scared of how much you affect me. No one’s ever meant this much to me before and I couldn’t handle that. You could break me so easily. I don’t think you even know how much power you have over me.

Hyunjin, scared? The words didn’t seem to fit together, let alone in the same sentence. She thinks back to the way Hyunjin had handed her the letter, how her hands shook as she tried to fake normalcy, how her voice sounded so small Heejin could barely hear her. 

As soon as Heejin had tried to unfold the letter, back in the choir room Hyunjin stopped her. “I don’t think you should read that in front of me. I don’t think I could handle that,” she said in an impossibly small voice.

Hyunjin had never once seemed small to Heejin before. Hyunjin is confident and loud, a presence that you feel even when she isn’t speaking. Hyunjin is boisterous laughter and teasing smiles, the fiercest person Heejin’s even known. Nothing scares Hyunjin. Nothing, except for Heejin, apparently. 

It’s eating me up inside to see you so sad, especially when I’m the cause of it. I wish I never pushed you away. It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I wished I never told you to forget our kiss. It meant so much to me, you don’t even know the half of it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop wanting to do it over and over again until I forget how to breathe. I can’t stop wanting you.

The truth is, loving you scares me so bad. I’m so ing terrified that one day you’ll realise that you’re too good for me and leave and that your leaving will absolutely break me because I let myself care about you too much. But without even knowing it, I’ve already started to care about you too much. And now I’d rather be scared a thousand times than hurt you even once. 

Leaving? Why would she ever leave the only thing that had ever made her feel truly happy, truly safe?
Seeing that she’s nearing the end of the letter, Heejin wipes her thumb affectionately over Hyunjin’s relatively neat handwriting and resumes reading.

That’s why I’m so conflicted. I don’t know if telling you will only hurt you more - if I should keep this all a secret until my feelings die down and things can go back to normal. I don’t know what the right thing to do now is. But I just want to be honest. 

For some completely idiotic reason, I really, really do love you. 

I love the way you crack up at my jokes even if they’re not that funny. I love the way you make my whole day better just by smiling. I love your adorable little pouts, the way you sing with so much passion, how much you care about everyone around you. 

I love your good morning texts, I love the ty memes you send me at 1am when you can’t sleep, I love hearing you talk so passionately about the things you care about. I love when you come to my games and cheer for me. I love it when you cook for me (even though your food is usually terrible). I even love it when you make me watch your ty romance movies, even if we’ve watched it a million times. 

, I think I love just about everything about you.

You mean so much to me, Heejin. Even if you don’t feel the same, I just wanted you to know. You’re the most important person in my life and nothing could ever change that. 

Love,
Your Hyunjinnie

As she finishes the letter, Heejin feels an overwhelming mix of emotions she never thought would combine together -  an odd sense of pride at being the only one who could affect the other girl tinged with the gnawing guilt of knowing that Hyunjin had thought that those intense feelings were something to be feared. 

“Even if you don’t feel the same?” she reads aloud, laughing a little. She had been so sure that she was being obvious about her affections that it’s almost absurd to her how Hyunjin could have been so blind. Then again, she herself had been blind to Hyunjin’s reciprocation, so they’re both to blame.

She shakes her head, still laughing, filled with elation at the knowledge that her feelings were returned. “We’re both so stupid.” 

Heejin collects a lyric sheet which had been stuffed into the front pocket of her guitar case and smooths it out, the once-sad lyrics now taking on new meaning. “This entire time,” she mutters, still not quite believing it, starting to write a letter of her own on the back side, “she’s loved me too.”

Dear Hyunjin,

A song that Heejin doesn’t recognise starts to blare from the propped-up speakers, so loud that Heejin can feel it vibrating underneath her skin. Beside her, Haseul (along with a long line of other girls, ranging from absurdly young to around their age) sits at the edge of her seat, eyes fixated on the door to the audition room. 

Not as excited as the other girl, Heejin entertains herself by pressing at the numbered sticker on her shirt, her number being one ahead of Haseul’s. She twists a little in her seat, bored out of her mind, when the song stops playing. 

A tall girl with bleached-blonde hair opens the door, smiles at them, and promptly leaves. 

“She’s really pretty,” Haseul whispers, her voice so loud it almost defeats the purpose of whispering, “she’ll definitely get in.”

“Jeon Heejin,” a man with a clipboard calls out, “number 83?”

Haseul hugs her after she stands, letting her go after a heartwarming “good luck” and saying that she’ll treat her to ice cream after this no matter how the auditions go. The man with the clipboard taps his foot, clearly annoyed with how much time she’s taking, so Heejin picks up her guitar case as quickly as possible and shuffles through the door to the audition room.

As soon as Heejin walks in, the people behind a long table start muttering, the only one silent being a man sitting in the middle, who peers at her in such a scrutinising way that she falters in her bow.

“Hello,” she says, pulling the strap of the guitar case back onto her shoulder, “my name’s Jeon Heejin.”

No one responds to her, but the man in the middle gives her a smile, so she takes it as her cue to keep talking. “I’ll be playing an original song that I wrote,” she says, setting the case down to take out her guitar. Her eye meets the lyric sheet she had stuffed into the front pocket and feels a sudden impulse to play it.

After all, wouldn’t it be more fitting to choose a song written for the girl currently running through her mind? She might not even have chosen to go if not for Hyunjin telling her to pursue her dream. Surely, choosing that as her audition song would be more meaningful.

On the spur of the moment, Heejin pulls out the lyric sheet she had written on in the train. She places it onto the music stand, giving it a quick look over, not knowing the words as well as she knew the song she had practised.

“If a kiss is just a kiss is just a kiss
Why do your lips feel like a perfect eclipse?
Why do your hands that always roam
Make me feel infinitely at home?”

In every word, Heejin tries to convey those complex emotions she felt that night on the beach, how she had ran home with tears in her eyes, how she had scribbled word after teary word remembering her bittersweet first kiss. Now, of course, the song feels much happier, the knowledge that Hyunjin cherishes their first kiss as much as she does filling her with newfound elation.

“Oh if a kiss is just a kiss is just a kiss
I’m just a girl who’s overthinking it”

She only gets through the first verse before the man sitting in the middle puts his hand up to signal that she should stop.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks, catching Heejin completely off guard.

“Excuse me?” she says, trying to remain as polite as possible. 

“You said you wrote it yourself and well… it’s a bit romantic, isn’t it?” Heejin isn’t sure who the question is for so she doesn’t answer, he turns to the people beside him and they simply nod, looking like bobbleheads as they agree with his every word.

“I don’t,” she assures him, fidgeting with the guitar fret, uncomfortable by the awkward feeling that fills the room, “no boyfriend for me.”

“Well, if you were to be accepted as a trainee-” he makes a cutting motion with his hand “- any relationships like that would have to be over.”

“Yes, of course.” To her credit, Heejin’s voice stays confident and stable when in reality she feels the exact opposite way. The thought that her relationship with Hyunjin might have to be over before it even started makes her question if she really wants to pursue this dream of hers. Is it worth it?

Rather than choosing between love and friendship, Heejin finds another impossible choice in front of her. Love or fulfilling her dream? Would she be happier performing on a stage or next to the girl she loves? When she thinks about her future, she isn’t quite sure which one seems more appealing. 

If Heejin were to be on stage, she’d no doubt miss the other girl, would look for her face in the crowd just as she had done in talent shows. The songs she would sing would be dull and meaningless without Hyunjin cheering her on. Moments backstage would feel cold without Hyunjin to congratulate her with that proud smile she had come to associate with a job well done.

But if she chooses Hyunjin, would she be constantly thinking about what could have been? Would she eventually look at Hyunjin and, instead of seeing the girl she loves, see the fame and success she had foregone? Heejin never wants to look at Hyunjin and feel regret, never wants to think of the girl that had only ever supported her dream as the person that stifled it.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” the man says after a beat, “thank you, number 83.”

She bows again and leaves.