a fragile house of cards

i.

"yolo."

chaeyoung, who was tuning her guitar, looked at her friend with surprise. "what did you say?" she asked. they were sitting in the empty orchestra chamber, waiting for chaeyoung's guitar lesson to start. sana had been pacing in front of the chaeyoung for the past five minutes; her eyebrows were furrowed, and her eyes had an intense glint of concentration. 

a slow grin spread on sana's face, elevating the girl's already seemingly endless amount of energy. "yolo," sana repeated.

strumming the a note to until it sounded right, chaeyoung lifted an eyebrow. "what's your new idea?"

sana had a habit. whenever she had ideas, she said yolo, which meant she was determined to see that idea come into fruitation no matter what obstacles standed in her way. pretty goddamn admirable if chaeyoung had to say. 

sana pulled a chair directly in front of chaeyoung and plopped down on it. "so, the korean club is hosting their biggest annual festival. dancing, singing, rapping, speaking: you name it and it'll be there. all kinds of shows will be hosted for their tenth year anniversary."

chaeyoung nodded. "let me guess. you want to perform and you're dragging me in?"

gasping, sana leaned even more forward until her head was over the guitar propped on chaeyoung's lap. "how did you know? can you read minds? if you can, tell me."

"i don't know. maybe because i've been dragged into your ideas for the past three years?" chaeyoung sarcastically suggested.

"wow, you're so cool," sana continued like she didn't hear chaeyoung's explanation.

pushing sana back so that chaeyoung had space to play the guitar, chaeyoung asked, "are you dancing?"

sana held up a hand. "wait, you haven't heard the rest. i want you to be in it, but not to dance or anything. instead, you can sing while we dance!" sana flicked her nose. "i know. i'm too smart for you."

at that, chaeyoung perked up. "really?"

sana nodded. "i'm serious. your dream is to become a singer. this is a perfect chance to see if you'll fit that lifestyle. there'll be a lot of audience!"

suddenly, chaeyoung sulked back down. "a lot of audience, hmmm," she muttered. although her love for singing and performing blossomed at a very young age, chaeyoung was always nervous of big stages, which was actually very weird. despite trying to convince herself that she could overcome her anxiety, whenever she stood next to the stage, waiting for her turn, and saw the blinding lights, she could never breathe. air would be stuck in her lungs, which would always stop working, and it wasn't until she was safely back at home before she could inhale. so, she had decided that performing in her house was better than having an asthma attack every time she stepped on stage. 

"it'll be a perfect chance to overcome your fear. think about it! i'll be there to help you. you can count me," sana said.

chaeyoung sighed.

"let me ask you this. is it possible for you to feel even the slightest amount of regret if you don't take this chance?" sana asked, not giving up. after missing many chances in her life, sana had developed a habit of trying everything in order to eliminate her least favorite emotion: regret.

without any hesitation, chaeyoung nodded. although she never performed, whenever she sat at home, watching video clips of her favorite artists performing on stage, she would always be filled with immense regret, and then questions would whirl around her brain. what if she had enough courage to face her fear? what if performing once on a big stage could end this irrational fear? what if the protection of her home only made chaeyoung worse and worse?

but, in the end, nothing happened. 

"exactly! don't let your fear hold you back."

chaeyoung wobbly smiled. "it's not that easy."

sana nodded. "i know, which is why i'm here."

for a second, chaeyoung let herself be convinced. the noise of cheering crowds and the feel of her stable guitar strings under her hand were the only sensations she could experience. however, immediately, her mind flooded with all the worst outcomes she could end up with: falling off the stage and dying or even worse, being labelled as untalented. chaeyoung absently strummed her guitar; the notes flooded through her body. yet, although she loved this feeling, she couldn't bring herself to change her mind.

sana must have read the decision on chaeyoung's face because she sagged. "please? you can pull out anytime."

sadly, chaeyoung shook her head. "sorry."

ii.

nayeon was born with a resting face. in the pictures when she wasn't smiling, two year old nayeon looked ready to burn the whole world down; add an evil smirk and some weapons and she would be the most feared baby. cunning, rough, and callous: words she never stopped hearing. some people thought that attribute was bad, but nayeon was always grateful. nobody messed with her because they were afraid of the possible retributions. in other words, they left her alone, and she left them alone. easy peasy lemon squeezy.

but the one aspect of life she actually cared about was also the only part that couldn't be fixed by her resting face.

"w-why are you doing this?" her mom screamed.

nayeon sighed and clicked on a youtube video. her mom's voice was trembling and high-pitched, which meant she was either on the verge of crying or exploding. 

"if you can just listen to me, none of this would happen. i say one sentence and you argue back with ten more sentences," her dad growled.

her mom started to crying. so this time it's not exploding.

a loud boom travelled upstairs, but nayeon didn't even flinch. she had long ago learned that interfering solved nothing, and instead, only added fuel to her dad's rage. so, eventually, it had become a habit to break the constant noises of cursing and yelling with silly vines. "hey, i'm lesbian" and "what! i thot you were amurican" sounded better in nayeon's ears than "motherer" and "".

"next time, ing learn," her dad snapped in a hoarse voice before he slammed the garage door and left.

nayeon exhaled. she hated the next few moments, hated it with a passion. her mom would always stand frozen for several minutes with no movement or sound. it was awlful because it was like she was ing dead: no life, no courage, no hope. then, her mom would slowly walk up the stairs; the only noise was either the soft thud of her slippers or the little whimper she emitted every now and then. exactly five minutes later (yes, nayeon always counted), her mom would open nayeon's door and step into the room, which would suddenly feel suffocating. with puffy red eyes, her mom would say, "i hate your dad."

and the cycle happened this time, too.

pausing the video, nayeon turned around. she gave her mom her best resting face. i don't care if you hate my dad. leave. i don't want to deal with this. what am i supposed to do? why are you telling me now? why not directly tell him? why can't you stand up for herself? how the do you want me to react? with agreement? with support? with encouragement? 

but, because resting face never worked, nayeon had to say something harsh to rip open the barely healed wound. "i don't care."

her mom flinched.

when nayeon said that the first time, immense guilt had flooded her. immediately, she had shook her head, tears running down her face, ran to hug her mom, and apologized a million times. however, now, she liked to think that she was harder, tougher, rougher. like what the rumors say about me. 

turning around, she muttered, "go away." then, she played the video.

"i have the power of god and anime on my side!"

her mom left.

this was a good time to have some weapons, but because nayeon had none, she clenched her hand.

ten minutes later, her dad acted normal. he cooked dinner with a huge smile, watched his basketball game with a loud cheer, and fixed broken their wall with a defty hand. 

like he hadn't just made mom feel lower than .

like he hadn't just ed nayeon's day.

nayeon closed her eyes. the video was still playing in the background. she had done this so many times that even with her eyes closed, it was done with perfection: pick up her phone, unlock the screen, click on the floating telephone icon, press on sooyoung's name, and say, "i need a boy."

iii.

sooyoung had just finished practicing for her speech competition and was walking out of the classroom when her phone rang. she looked down at the caller id with nervousness, and freezed when she saw the name. she dreaded these calls more than she dreaded a major final exam because the call not only meant another boy falling into nayeon's trap, but also nayeon falling deeper into her own hole. however, life wasn't fair for nayeon, and sooyoung wasn't going to be the one to make it more unfair. 

so, slowly, she answered with a timid hello.

"i need a boy."

sooyoung exhaled. of course. she wasn't expecting anything else, but it didn't make her feel better. 

against her screaming morality, sooyoung nodded; then, she remembered nayeon couldn't see her. "ok." 

sometimes, sooyoung hated her outgoing personality because a lot of people liked her. sooyoung wasn't bragging or elevating her own ego, but simply telling the truth. because she was socializable, more people flocked to her, which meant she knew more boys. sometimes, sooyoung was positive nayeon only talked to sooyoung for her insane connections, but even if it was true, sooyoung could never be bitter. she had no right to feel cheated when her family was the definition of perfect and when she had no idea the pain nayeon must feel everyday.