/

(now)

There was no way around it. Recent events have told Joohyun that there’s probably no way things between her and Seungwan would ever go back to the way it was before—back when everything was simple, back when there’s isn’t a shiny black Cadillac picking the singer up every Thursday.

As Joohyun sits in the corner of the room waiting to be called for the dance practice, she stares at Seungwan who is happily engaging with Sooyoung in a game app the taller girl found on the Internet. Her heart sinks a bit, frozen in place. There’s a pain in her chest specific to Seungwan. It’s a kind of pain that never really goes away—always there, like the slight buzz of the air conditioner when you’re at home during summer days.

Part of Joohyun knows what she needs to do, what things they both need to address. But she’s so scared of what it could mean.

Loving someone takes more than just love – her mother told her once.

Joohyun never got that line out of her system.

.

(then)

They’re about to debut in three days. Everyone’s talking about them: the newest SM girl group, to follow the footsteps of the iconic Girls’ Generation.

There’s no turning back now.

Irene is nervous, sure. Debuting on a live stage is as nerve-wracking as it can get. It’s not easy to debut under one of the three biggest music labels in South Korea, at a time when the global k-pop revolution is on the rise. It’s even tougher because they’re said to be the successor of the first girl group to be ever called the Nation’s Girl Group.

She knows there’s a lot of politics going on, too. With their sunbaes in middle of an internal conflict, Joohyun knew that the decision to debut them this soon has a touch of desperation on SM’s part—like an insurance policy just in case their senior girl group falls apart. Stories about their sunbaes have been going around for a while now, way before their debut was announced. So Joohyun wouldn’t be surprised if their debut has anything to do with that.

So there’s a lot at stake here—reputation, dignity, innocence, youth, and all the years of hardwork they spent training for this day and the following days to come.

The nerves are there but she’s also excited. They’re ready for this. They’ve trained for so long, put under the intense supervision of SM’s best vocal coaches and choreographers.

Some things were rushed: producing their debut track, promotions—but the four of them? They’re ready—it’s Red Velvet against the world.

She has just finished packing her things up when Seulgi approaches her. She’s been alone in this small waiting room for the past 10 minutes, waiting for the others until they wrap up their last-minute coaching with their vocal trainers.

“Unnie,” Seulgi opens, a worried look evident on her face.

“What?”

“Talk to Seungwan-ah.”

“What about?”

“She wants to stay behind. Wants to practice some more,” Seulgi says.

“Again?”

“Again.”

Joohyun lets out a sigh, eyes finding the door unconsciously. The practice room is just across the hall. From where she is, she could hear the faint sound of the Happiness instrumental being played.

She turns back to Seulgi, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Okay,” Seulgi nods. “We’ll wait in the car.”

Joohyun shakes her head, “No. Just go on ahead. I’ll tell Manager-nim to send another car for Seungwan and I.”

Seulgi nods one last time before she turns on her heels and walks to the door. Before disappearing to the hallway, Seulgi turns back to her and asks, “Do you think we’ll get through it?”

“The performance?”

“Not just that. I mean all of this.”

It’s a loaded question but isn’t something unexpected from Seulgi. Their main dancer looks up to her, trusts her to say the right things, be a strong leader for them. But more importantly, Seulgi counts on her as a friend. Sometimes, that’s scarier.

“No one knows for sure,” she responds because it’s the right thing to say. She is no position to reassure Seulgi that everything will be fine. “But I’m certain that we’ll all go through it,” a pause, “together.”

Red Velvet against the world.

Seulgi lets out a smile before she leaves.

Joohyun lets herself smile back, momentarily forgetting that she has another agenda for the night.

She grabs her gym bag, swinging the large item onto her shoulder as she carefully makes her way to the other room.

She stops by the door to take a peek first, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on. She was half-expecting to see their coaches still there, giving last-minute notes. They don’t practice again until the day before their debut stage so it would be reasonable for their coaches to still be around.

But odd enough, Seungwan is completely alone by the corner of the room with a microphone in one hand and her phone on the other. Joohyun assumes that her phone is connected to the room’s speaker because all it takes is one click and the speakers echo a familiar part in the bridge.

As Joohyun stands there, she watches their main vocalist nail the note one more time, the same way she does every time they rehearsed it. Perfectly, everytime.

She hears the music stop and watches the younger girl sigh in frustration, shaking her head as if she didn’t get it right.

This is the moment she chooses to step in.

“Hey,” she starts, walking in with a reluctant smile.

The other girl looks up at her.

There was a small moment there, where all Joohyun could see in Seungwan’s face was worry. But the second their gazes connected, a sparkle appears in Seungwan’s eyes. Hope, maybe? Joohyun’s not sure.

“Hey,” Seungwan acknowledges.

“We should head home,” Joohyun says, walking across the room and finally standing in front of the other girl.

She looks so small, so unsure. And it alarms Joohyun because they’ve spent the day rehearsing and Seungwan didn’t show any signs of… this. She seemed happy and ready but right now, there’s a weight on her shoulders that Joohyun wants to lift off her.

They’ve known each other awhile now. They’ve trained for countless hours.  They live under one roof. The four of them are sometimes the only friends they have. So Joohyun likes to think that she knows the girl in front of her but there are days—days like this—that it feels like Seungwan is a complete stranger, somebody she knows by face and name but know nothing about.

“I think I’ll stay for another hour, I need to practice again,” Seungwan utters, head hung low.

“You’ve done it perfectly multiple times today. You don’t need to practice further,” she tells the other girl. It’s strange how Seungwan doesn’t even look up, eyes settled on the hand that’s currently fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

They’re standing in the middle of the room and the atmosphere is suddenly somber—a big contrast to the bustling energy that they had earlier.

When the younger girl won’t say anything, Joohyun speaks up, “Hey, look at me.”

It takes a second before the singer looks up to meet Joohyun’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Joohyun asks.

For a moment, Joohyun wonders if Seungwan will tell her the truth. The girl doesn’t often talk about her feelings. She opts to be optimistic, shiny, and bright all the time. She does it so naturally that sometimes, it’s easy to believe that it’s all there is. But that can’t be true, right? Everyone has a sadness they don’t talk about.

The thing is, Joohyun feels like there’s a lot of that sadness that Seungwan refuses to show.

“I—” Wendy stutters. “I think I’m going to mess it up. I don’t want to do that to you and the other girls. We’ve worked so hard and I want to do this perfectly.”

She chokes a sob and it ultimately breaks Joohyun’s heart.

She and Seulgi have talked about this, once or twice. Seungwan, despite the unquestionable talent, has always been a little bit unsure of herself. She’s quite insecure of her ability to perform.

And God, if only Joohyun could show Wendy what she sees the girl performs, she thinks Wendy would be blown away. Because Wendy is a force to reckon with on stage. Her vocals are on fire, the best she’s heard in a while. Their coaches, their management, even their sunbaes are confident in her ability to sing.

But on top of that, Joohyun wants to make Seungwan see the look on her face when she sings because Wendy on stage is happy and sure, and so honest with her feelings that Joohyun can’t help but stare sometimes.

If there’s anyone on their team that has to practice more, it’s not Wendy. Probably Joohyun, but not Wendy.

“You’ll do well,” she tells her because she doesn’t know how to say all of that briefly. “I’m not only saying this because I want you to feel better. I’m saying this because I know it.”

Seungwan blinks at her, the tears threatening to fall from her eyes slowly shying away. “How do you know?”

Joohyun shrugs, “Because you’re you.”

It’s so simple, so true, and so sincere that it surprises Joohyun a bit by how steady her voice was when she said it.

There’s a small smile that appears on her friend’s face and Joohyun decides that it’s such a good look on her. She decides right there that she likes it when Seungwan smiles. Whatever that means.

“I—thank you.”

Joohyun lets out a breath, “You’re stubborn and I know you won’t come home with me right now, so—” she pauses as she sets her bag on the floor. She takes a seat next to it before she pulls her phone out, “I’m staying here until you’re done rehearsing. I’m also ordering food because I’m starving.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I want to.”

Seungwan doesn’t say anything any further but Joohyun could feel the singer’s eyes on her. She ignores it and the feeling swarming in her gut.

It becomes a thing eventually. Joohyun stays with Wendy on her late-night extended rehearsals, they eat dinner, and they go home with their fingers interlaced with one another.

It renders Joohyun speechless how simple and automatic it is—to be beside Wendy just because.

.

(now)

Seungwan isn’t avoiding her, not really. But the younger girl makes sure to put a healthy distance between them every time. They laugh at each other’s jokes, talk to each other when they have to—but it’s not the same. It’s sad and heartbreaking, and sometimes, Joohyun just wants to pull Seungwan to her, hug her and never let her go.

She doesn’t because it feels irresponsible. This is not the time for feelings.

.

(then)

Joohyun takes a deep breath as she stretches her legs by the far end of the stage. She’s sat down by the floor, recalling the choreography in her mind.

She knows this choreography by heart. She’s not going to mess this up.

She tries to hype herself up. There’s so much riding on this shoot—important first impressions from the public, not just of her but of her group as well.

She takes a few calming breaths. She has 10 minutes before they’re called in to start the shoot.

“Hey unnie,” she doesn’t mistake Seungwan’s voice as the girl plops down next to her with a bright smile on her face. “I called the cops.”

Confused, Joohyun asks, “What?”

“Because it’s illegal to look that good,” Seungwan says confidently with a laugh.

“Yah!” Joohyun laughs, lightly punching the younger girl’s arm.

Seungwan giggles, dipping her head in slight embarrassment. “It worked!”

“What worked?”

“You seemed so worried earlier, I saw you when I got in,” Seungwan explains. “I wanted to make you smile.”

Joohyun doesn’t know if it’s just one of those many lines the girl is so fond of lately. But she gives Seungwan a warm smile because she’s right.  It did work. The girl’s mere presence lifted her spirits up.

“Are you nervous?” Seungwan asks, chancing a glance toward the middle of the stage where lighting is being setup around two chairs.

“A bit.”

“Don’t be,” Seungwan tells her, like she really believes in her. “You’ll nail it and everyone will be talking about you.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Pfft,” the singer dismisses her worry, “When they see this teaser, they’ll be looking forward to Ms. Irene Bae, woman of the year.”

She manages a laugh, “You’re only saying that to cheer me up.”

“No, some things are just true,” the other girl says before her expression changes. She’s suddenly looking into Joohyun’s eyes, her gaze oozing with a well-placed sincerity that somehow calms the older girl down. “You’re built for things like this, unnie. Big moments, big stages—they’re all going to watch you and they will be in awe of you.”

Overcome with emotions, Joohyun doesn’t say anything but merely smiles.

Seungwan takes her hand and clasps it with both of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze for emphasis, “I know this because I feel it all the time when I watch you dance.”

There’s no hint of silliness to it. No jokes, no greasy tone to mask the genuine emotions. It takes Joohyun by surprise just how willing her body is to believe everything the girl says. When Seungwan is this close, when she’s like this, Joohyun feels like she can conquer anything.

They’re quiet for a couple of moments until they both hear the PD yell, “Irene-ssi, let’s do one take.”

Joohyun tears her eyes from Seungwan and eyes the setup. Seulgi is already there, being given instructions by Director-nim.

She turns back to Seungwan, “Will you be watching?”

Eyes wide, Seungwan asks, “Do you want me to stay?”

She feels a blush creep up her cheeks, “Yeah.”

The other girl grins so wide her face might split in half, “Of course I’ll stay.”

Always.

The Be Natural teaser becomes a success.

Red Velvet against the world.

.

(now)

They’re all huddled around having dinner, enjoying the now-rare nights when all of them are in the dorm together. They’re talking about everything and nothing at all, being entertained by Seungwan and Seulg’s experiences on a variety show that they recently appeared on.

It’s in the middle of this does Yerim decide to drop something that could potentially alter their dynamic for good.

“I’m moving out,” she announces, and everyone quiets down.

It’s not like they didn’t expect it. Everyone knows there will come a time when they’ll all want to live on their own spaces. They’re no longer a new girl group. At this point, their company no longer has a say on whether or not they’ll stay on the dorms.

Joohyun catches Yerim meet Seulgi’s eyes from across the table. It doesn’t surprise her when Seulgi makes her announcement next.

“Me too,” Seulgi says silently.

They’ve obviously talked about it.

“I mean, I do love you guys and I love living with you but I miss home,” Yerim explains. Everyone simply nods, understanding where their maknae is coming from. She’s the only one amongst them who has a home with her family in Seoul so her moving back home would not be a logistics problem.

Seulgi rests her back on the chair and looks around with a sad look on her f