It’s an uneventful night with no schedules in the morning, meaning Wheein and Hyejin are free to drink as they please.

A couple of empty beer cans and soju bottles already stand on the table in front of them, blocking their view of the TV from their positions on Hyejin’s floor. 

“You see this bottle right here?” Hyejin asks as she finishes another beer.

“It’s not a bottle,” Wheein comments without looking up from her phone.

“It’s empty,” she states. “You know, it’s that kind of emptiness that just presses down on your chest.” 

“Hm,” Wheein nods, still scrolling through her phone.

“Sometimes you feel empty and sad simply because you’re missing the emotions you once felt,” Hyejin holds up the can as if it holds the world’s biggest secrets. “But just because your life isn’t at a high, it doesn’t mean it’s at a low.”

“You sound pretty high,” Wheein mutters.

“But maybe being right in the middle is the worst,” Hyejin continues, ignoring the other girl’s comment. “The point of not feeling anything. Except you’re aware that you feel empty, which brings a sort of sadness with it.” 

Wheein finally throws her phone away with a sigh.

“Do you want another beer?”

“It’s when time is slowly ticking away and you just feel lost. Like you’re stuck feeling nothing, and you’re just waiting to feel something again,” Hyejin says, ignoring Wheein’s question. “Like a constant calmness.”

“Beer?” Wheein asks again, waving a can in her face this time. 

Hyejin takes it wordlessly, still contemplating her own words.

“I think it’s better to be stuck in the middle than to be sad all the time,” Wheein finally comments, earning an appreciative smile from Hyejin. 

“I disagree,” she says.

“Okay,” Wheein shrugs, getting up from the floor to move to the kitchen, but of course Hyejin isn’t done discussing this. She pulls hard on her her sleeve, causing Wheein to drop back down, barely missing Hyejin’s lap.

“But then again,” she starts. “If being stuck in the middle brings a constant emptiness or loneliness with it, wouldn’t the sadness imply that you’re not actually stuck in the middle?”

“Yep,” Wheein says, slumping into Hyejin’s side, who absentmindedly puts her arm around her waist.

“But maybe emptiness doesn’t necessarily cause sadness. Maybe—” 

“Maybe it’s okay to hover in the middle and to just be calm for a while,” Wheein interrupts her.

“How did you know I was going to say that?” Hyejin leans away and looks at her with wide eyes as if she’s only now discovering that her best friend of eleven years is some kind of mindreader. 

“Because you said the exact same thing when we got drunk last week,” Wheein says impassively.

Hyejin continues gaping at her.

“And they’re pretty much the lyrics to your solo, ‘Be Calm’?” Wheein deadpans.

“Ah,” Hyejin scratches at her nose. “I didn’t think you’d notice that.”

Wheein laughs, resting her head on Hyejin’s shoulder as she takes another sip from her drink.

“I’m not that easy to fool,” Wheein smiles.

“Too late,” Hyejin grins back at her, poking her in the side. “Too late.” 

“You’re so stupid,” Wheein rolls her eyes, but can’t help but play along. “Stupid…” 

“No way, no way,” Hyejin sings now, using her can as a made-up microphone. 

“It’s not easy,” Wheein finishes, before doubling over and letting out a shriek of disgust at their own humor. 

When Hyejin’s nose scrunches up with laughter, she can’t help but join in.