“Sorry, but no. I cannot allow you to talk about her like that. She’s not a scrub.”

“You can’t be serious,” Byulyi shook her head in disbelief.

“What?! I get it, you don’t like her because she likes Yongsun-unnie, but let’s at least be accurate, Byul. She wasn’t a scrub. At all. Far from it.”

“You spend one night out with her and now you’re defending her?”

“I’m not defending her, but I played against her for two years before you got to SNU. She was really good at basketball. Averaged a double-double one of those seasons. Seemed like a great captain, too.”

“Then go live with her.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” the business school student laughed. Leaving the couch for a few moments to grab something from the kitchen, Byul had time to process her thoughts on their conversation. They’d discussed a lot, and while her head was still spinning, the biggest conclusion she’d come to was that Heeyeon was a traitor.

Her roommate stayed out fraternizing with the enemy the night before then decided that pestering Byul with questions about, as people had dubbed it, “the incident” was the best way to start their day. After each having a long Saturday night, both young women had slept in and were now having brunch together in their living room.

From what Heeyeon shared, many in the group that went out drinking together clamored for details on what happened between her and Seungyeon for the older of the two to have been so uncharacteristically sour.

“You’re not low, by the way,” her roommate nudged her leg off of their living room table. “After the stunt you pulled last night, everyone knows you like unnie.”

“The stunt I pulled? You can’t be serious,” the senior guffawed as she stuffed with food. “I’m not sure what you were told, but she bulldozed her way into the conversation and was unnecessarily rude, then she implied that I only had a good game because SKKU played lackluster defense. It was laughable,” she laughed humorlessly. Talking about this was getting her riled up again, her legs, unbeknownst to her, bouncing up and down of their own accord.

Dinner with her parents the night before was lovely, but throughout, her mind wandered periodically to the meeting with Seungyeon. Returning home that night, rest didn’t come easy. Moonbyul paced around her bedroom before lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and attempting to process that woman’s audacity. Who the hell did Seungyeon think she was?

Sipping her juice, Heeyeon was unaffected by her friend’s increasing frustration. “That’s not what Sirae said. According to her, you were all over Yongsun-unnie—she asked me at one point if the two of you had something going on—but then got an attitude when Seungyeon came over. She also admitted that Seungyeon added fuel to things, too. A fair narrator in my opinion.”

“I don’t care. The whole thing was annoying.”

At some point, the television had been . Feeling Heeyeon’s stare burning into the side of her face, Byulyi suddenly found the rerun playing on the screen to be the most fascinating cinematic masterpiece.

“You don’t care?” Her roommate asked skeptically.

“I don’t, no.”

“So you don’t want to know what happened between Yongsun-unnie and Seungyeon when we all went out?”

“Not interested,” she tried her best to come across as indifferent.

“Okay.” Moonbyul could hear the smile in Heeyeon’s voice. There was the likelihood that her roommate was goading her. But there was also a chance that she wasn’t, that she was telling the truth, and that something of significance occurred. If that were the case, it’d be best for her to know, right? Like, it could serve as some type of strategic advantage. Right?

As each second passed, her resolve crumbled. Yongsun hadn’t yet responded to her ‘good morning’ text message—Byulyi had never stopped sending those as they were habit by now; Yongsun was always among her first thoughts of the morning—so she was at Heeyeon’s mercy in terms of finding out if anything happened.

“What happened,” the basketball star finally asked through gritted teeth.

“Thought you didn’t care?”

“Just tell me, Heeyeon. You love dragging things out,” she rolled her eyes.

“You’re no fun. Fine. We all went out, which you already know. The two of them didn’t talk much on the way there and for the first half of our time at the bar we ended up at, they mingled with everyone except each other. It looked like Seungyeon was avoiding Yongsun-unnie, not the other way around.”

“She’s so dramatic. There’s no reason that Yong and I being close should have bothered her that much.”

“If you’d let me finish, I could address that.”

“Go ahead.”

“So . . . yeah. During their time apart, Sirae came up and asked me about you and Yongsun-unnie, so I asked her about Seungyeon and unnie. They “hang out” a lot. Sirae doesn’t know what exactly that means because apparently Seungyeon doesn’t divulge that information, which, listen, you’re not a fan or whatever, but that’s sweet of her. Anyway, they’re not together but they’re also not seeing other people, which, I guess, is why she reacted so strongly to seeing the two of you together. As Sirae said, the whole night, including the way unnie bragged about you, made them think she was hiding a relationship with you.”

That was . . . a lot to take in.

The announcement of the “hanging out” stuck with her. Byulyi had an idea of what that meant but wasn’t sure. During one of the Midnight Madness parties, Hyejin told her that the two were “hooking up,” but that, too, was vague. However, judging by how strongly Seungyeon reacted, and the way she’d marked Yongsun the week before, something of significance was going on between the two. Before asking Heeyeon, she was suddenly reminded about a small detail just mentioned.

“Did you say she was bragging about me?” It couldn’t be helped. Her lips formed a smirk.

“I want to be disgusted by your reaction, but it’s honestly a valid response. She was bragging so hard. Everything aside, she’s very proud of you and your accomplishments. It’s adorable. But that’s not the point! Unnie approached Seungyeon later in the night and they had what looked to be an intense conversation. After that, they were inseparable. They left together, too. And before you get upset, yeah, they left together, but remember all the good information I shared that can be used in your favor.”

“Not remembering much good at the moment.”

“Whatever physical things are happening between them, I know for a fact that unnie cares about you deeply. Byul, she didn’t hesitate to hype you up, even in the presence of someone she’s messing around with. I think that’s a good sign.”

“But the fact that she’s even messing around with someone is not a good sign.”

“Stop focusing on the negative,” Heeyeon waved her hand dismissively. “She’s hooking up with a woman, so now you know that that’s something she’s open to. All that’s left is for you to step up and grab her attention. So that you become the woman she’s hooking up with.”

“I don’t want to hook up with her.” The look on Heeyeon’s face made the athlete explain further. “I want to be with her. Properly. Not just hooking up every now and then. I want to do right by her. A relationship.”

Moonbyul had had nothing but time to think about this—it had been 10 months now since first realizing what the tummy flips and spikes in heartbeat meant. The decision to be more direct about showing her feelings for Yongsun didn’t only come from said feelings eating at her from the inside out, swallowing her whole, and consuming every other thought of hers. No. It came, too, from knowing for certain that she and Yongsun could be good together. The connection between them was unlike any other she’d experienced. There were things that both needed to be better at, and they sometimes clashed, but more often than not, they clicked. Byulyi wanted to hold onto that ‘click’, that connection they had. The standoff with Seungyeon and her restless night the day before cemented it for her—she was willing to risk their friendship if it meant tapping into the potential they had as more. Going about accomplishing this would be tricky though. She still had no plans of confessing outright—no one knew if Yongsun liked her. To get around that, Byulyi planned on stepping her game up even more and feeling out the reactions she got from Yongsun. Waiting a little longer wouldn’t hurt her, she’d already waited aimlessly for 10 months. For now, the athlete planned on taking her time and doing things right.

“Aww!” Heeyeon cooed. “Our baby Byulyi is growing up!”

“Shut up,” the senior blushed.

“I think it’s about time. It makes no sense to hold onto those feelings and have them make you sad all the time. Address them and deal with the fallout after. The two of you are great friends. If a relationship doesn’t work, you may still be able to ma–”

“It’ll work. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yes! That’s the spirit! I’ll message ‘Team Byulyi’ and tell them about the news!”

“‘Team Byulyi’?”

“Yeah. Me, Wheein, and Hyejin. The lovey-dovey between the two of you that leads nowhere? We’re sick of it, but we’re also rooting for you to do something about it.”

Knowing that her best friends believed in her, confidence was pumping furiously through her body.

“So you all think she likes me?” The senior asked excitedly.

“We have no idea,” Heeyeon laughed, “but we think it would be cute!”

Cute. She was talking about possibly ruining one of the most important relationships in her life and they were encouraging her because they thought it was “cute”. Annoying.

*

Inputting the apartment’s code, Moonbyul felt welcomed by the familiar beeps. The apartment wasn’t hers, but it was a close second. Walking through the door, Byul took her time heading to the bedroom. She could breathe easy. Chorong wasn’t home—she’d know because she made Heeyeon text Yongsun’s roommate to ask.

The day after a game was always the worst. Hard screens set the day before always lingered days after the final buzzer went off. “Accidental” hits to the body and face always left bruises that felt like they formed on her bones themselves. Bruises that hindered her walking. On the contrary, though, days with Yongsun were always the best. With no plans, Byulyi figured the best recovery would be making a pop-up appearance and inserting herself into whatever plans Yongsun had.

Coming to the end of the hall, the brunette gently eased the bedroom’s door open and peeked her head in. A wave of endorphins burst within at the sight before her.

Traversing the few pieces of clothing strewn haphazardly on the floor, Byulyi quietly approached the burrito-wrapped woman on the bed. Breath steady, Yongsun’s body rhythmically rose and fell. Mussed locks falling every which way across her face, Byul could only stand and stare. Yongsun truly was beautiful.

Enough time passed to be creepy, and the athlete reminded herself of what she came for.

“Yong,” she softly shook the sleeping older woman. After no response, she tried again. “Yong. Wake up.” Delighted by the graduate student’s stirring, Moonbyul gave her time to adjust to the light that filtered through the window.

“Byul-ah,” the older woman rasped. It was embarrassing how easily that gravelly voice awoke feelings of desire within her. Closing that off for the moment, Byulyi responded.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” she smiled, Yongsun’s hair.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Heard you had a wild night and wanted to make sure you were okay.” And make sure that you were in your bed and not Seungyeon’s, she thought.

“I’m tired,” Yongsun yawned, both eyes closed once again.

“Me, too. Move over.”

She was tired but she also wanted to hold Yongsun again. It had been a while since she was last able to do so. The swiftness with which Yongsun unwrapped herself and scooted over made Byulyi feel good about herself. For whatever reason, the older woman almost always did as Byul asked of her. It was not only cute but also an encouraging sign, the athlete thought.

Jumping onto the bed, Byul adjusted the comforter around them and pulled Yongsun’s back flush against her front, a secure hand holding onto the blonde’s waist. It felt intimate and, dare she say, romantic? The senior wasn’t sure, but her heart rate spiked nonetheless. Seconds later, her heart thumped even harder against her chest as she felt soft fingers wrapping around and holding on to her wrist. That small action alone had her smiling goofily . . . until it popped into her head that the increase in skinship was likely a byproduct of Yongsun’s physical intimacy with Seungyeon. It was possible the graduate student had grown more comfortable with it overall and that it wasn’t something unique to her.

Now was not the time to think about Seungyeon. She, Moon Byulyi, was the one with Yongsun at the moment. That’s all that mattered.

“I missed you,” Byulyi kissed the back of her best friend’s head.

“We saw each other yesterday,” a husky laugh came.

“Yeah, but we haven’t spent real time together in a bit. I also wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have put you in a sticky situation like that.” She wasn’t going to apologize for her behavior, just for how it affected Yongsun.

“And what about for the nasty behavior towards Seungyeon?”

Through gritted teeth, Moonbyul reluctantly uttered, “I apologize for being rude to your friend.” Even though Yongsun couldn’t see her, Byulyi still refrained from rolling her eyes out of respect for her best friend. The apology was bull, she wasn’t sorry at all for being rude to Seungyeon, but Yongsun wanted to hear it, and she wasn’t going to put a damper on their day by needlessly fighting over that girl.

“Why don’t you like her?” Yongsun asked softly as she turned in her arms to lie face-to-face.

“Why didn’t you text me last night? I told you to message me when you got home. You didn’t,” the brunette countered.

Eye-to-eye, in each other’s arms, neither broke their gaze away from the other until Yongsun sighed softly and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I hung out with Seungyeon after and by the time I got home, I forgot.”

It seemed that no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, their conversation would inevitably have to deal with the problem that was Seungyeon.

“Are you dating her?” If they were going to talk, they might as well talk. Too many of the questions that Byul had could only be answered by Yongsun. There was no way around it.

“No,” the reply came immediately.

“Then what’s happening between the two of you? Because she’s making it obvious that something’s happening.”

“We’re friends,” Yongsun sighed heavily. “But we sometimes kiss and other stuff,” she looked away as she answered.

Other stuff.

“Okay.” Her calm response belied the burning jealousy scorching her insides.

Jealousy. At the root of everything, she was now woman enough to admit to herself that she was jealous of whatever it was Seungyeon and Yongsun had. Even if Yongsun did like Moonbyul, Seungyeon would still be in the picture. She’d still be an obstacle that Byulyi would have to contend with.

As if always sensing her distress, the athlete melted into Yongsun’s hands as they cupped her face.

“Byul-ah, I’m tired. Can we not fight, please?”

“I didn’t come here to fight, Yong. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“You’re staying the whole day?”

“Unless you have plans.”

“No plans. I’m going back to sleep, though. Exhausted.” With that, she turned her back to Moonbyul but made sure to pull her close, a return to their original position.

“Sleep. I’ll buy you some food when you wake up and we can watch a movie or something. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yongsun drowsily agreed.

Deciding to sleep, too, the senior settled in—the grip Yongsun had on her arm was intense; she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

At the edge of unconsciousness, she was pulled back when Yongsun suddenly asked, “Did you change your body wash?” Byul thought she had long fallen asleep.

“I did, yeah. Mine ran out so I used Heeyeon’s today. Does it smell bad?”

“No, it smells good, but it doesn’t smell like you.”

A moment of silence.

“Yeah. I’m going to the store tomorrow to buy some more of my usual one.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Does your body hurt a lot today?”

“It feels better now,” Byul snuggled closer, a hand resting on Yongsun’s toned stomach.

“Okay,” the older woman whispered.

Maybe it was cheesy, but despite the small amount of tension earlier, the moment was perfect. Holding Yongsun like this was perfect.

“Never forget that you’re my favorite person,” she breathed. It seemed like the moment called for such a declaration.

Initially hurt by the way Yongsun froze at her statement, Byul let out a small sigh of relief when the older woman sank into her hold.

“You’re my favorite person, too, Byul-ah.”

Maybe, just maybe, this was a good sign.

*

Sunday came much too quickly for her liking. She and Yongsun spent the entire day and night together, a lazy day through and through. Now Moonbyul was brought back to reality. Back to dealing with way too many things that seemed way too overwhelming and showed no signs of slowing down.

“The application looked tight. Strong. And you’re the school’s star athlete, I’d say you’re a pretty solid lock.” Sandeul admitted as he sipped his coffee.

He agreed to meet with Byulyi today to give feedback on her business school application. Over the past few weeks, they’d been emailing back and forth about it and selected today, November 15^th, as the final deadline for revisions. Applications for early decisions were open. To his knowledge, she’d be submitting any day now.

Ever since Heeyeon introduced them, Byul and Sandeul kept consistent communication. It was mostly out of necessity as he provided support with her business school application. Throughout the process, though, a friendship between them developed. He was kind and always willing to listen to her non‑academic troubles, even though she never took him up on that offer. Until today.

“So . . .” she drawled, “slight change of plans.”

“And by slight, you mean a massive change in plans. Correct?”

“Possibly.”

“Do tell.”

And so she launched into the full story: it was looking more and more each day as if she’d be going pro. The week before, Moonbyul let her coaches know that she’d be interested in taking a meeting with an agent. Days later, the informational happened and she learned that there was a lot of money on the table. Prospects bolstered by her performance over the summer and in SNU’s first game of the season, the basketball star had offers ranging from 100,000 USD to 330,000 USD. It was bizarre having reached this point. Her life up until now revolved around basketball. That had always been her priority, and it led her here, to unreal amounts of money being thrown at her.

“They’re offering you how much?!” Sandeul choked on his drink.

“100,000 to 330,000 USD,” she answered the rhetorical question.

“Byul . . .”

“I know.”

“Damn,” he whistled.

“Yeah.”

“But if they’re sending you somewhere miserable, the money isn’t as impressive.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“You sure? I say dumb things all the time.”

“Exactly. But no, the options aren’t horrible. Right now, there are teams from lots of places. Turkey, Russia, Spain, China, Australia.”

“Korea?”

“Yeah, Korea, too.”

“Damn,” he whistled again.

“Yeah,” she responded, just as awe-stricken.

“So . . . business school?” He laughed.

“I still want to go. Kind of had it set in my head that that’d be the next step. It sounds silly, but I imagined what the future would look like if I were in b‑school. Everything, right down to what classes I’d have each day, what I’d wear, the commute. Everything.” Ending long, stressful days with Yongsun.

“Take the money and run. Most people go to business school to have a path that leads to that much money. You can sign your name today and have that.”

“It’s not about the money. I’m actually interested in business. I feel like I could do well. Especially in marketing. Imagine me in athletic marketing! I’d kill it.”

“You can sign a deal with Nike or Adidas tomorrow and have a clear path to athletic marketing,” he poked yet another hole in her thoughts.

“I know.” While humble, the meeting she had with the sports agent made a lot clear to her—she was in high demand. “But I want to earn it.”

“You’ve earned it through basketball.”

“I want to earn it through school, too. It’s silly, but I kind of want to prove to myself I can do it.”

“You’re right, it’s silly.”

His words weren’t scalding. He wasn’t being rude.

“Then what now?”

“Probably still going to put an application through but apply for online programs instead.”

“Part-time?”

“Obviously. I couldn’t take four classes each term while playing.”

“So, you’ve decided to go pro?”

“I’ve decided to entertain the idea.”

“What have your parents said?”

“To go pro. Especially my mom,” Byulyi laughed.

“Didn’t you say she’s the one that’s always about academics?”

“Exactly.”

They spent a minute enjoying the irony in that.

“Which of the leagues offering would you most want to play in?”

“It depends on the quality of the team offering me a contract.”

“You’d want a good team, right? Get paid big and win.”

“I don’t know, the idea of playing for a team that’s rebuilding is alluring. It would be a great challenge.”

“You and these challenges,” Sandeul rolled his eyes. “Business school, teams that are rebuilding, Yongsun-noona. Try the easy road once in a while.”

Entertained by the fists raining down on his shoulder, Sandeul burst into hysterics. Once he calmed down, the two resumed their bickering over whether it’d be best to play for a great team but be a supporting character or be the star on a losing team.

*

The following few weeks progressed with no new drama. From everything she’d observed, Byul felt that things with Yongsun were progressing very well. Their Tuesday lunches became routine. Without fail, the athlete appeared at The Center every week to deliver the packaged lunches she procured. They spoke freely with each other, laughed without restraint, and, most excitingly, their actions seemed to be backed by strong feelings. Byulyi knew hers obviously were, but each day, Yongsun’s words and actions made her more certain that there was something on the graduate student’s end too.

Basketball was also promising. SNU started their season undefeated and their team’s chemistry was the best Byul had ever experienced during her time at the university. Looking at basketball post-college, the decision was 75 percent made—Byul was going to go pro. Nothing had been signed yet, but the professional basketball talks were heading towards acquiring and examining proposed contracts, with the strongest offers coming from Korea, Turkey, and China. She’d either be relatively close to home or several hours away. And although things were rapidly progressing, that uncertainty shook her up a bit. So much depended on where she’d be playing.

Maybe too much time had passed with too much good. With no disturbances. With no bad news. Byulyi should have realized that she was due.

It was a regular day. Practice was normal. They were two days out from their sixth game of the season, the team in the middle of a defensive drill. The objective: stop the other team from scoring and secure the rebound. The winning team would have their shuttle runs cancelled. Not the biggest prize, but the team was competitive. They didn’t play for the prizes offered by coaches, they played for the pride of winning.

It was tense. Panting and drenched in sweat, all players wore their exhaustion on their sleeves.

“It’s tied. 4-4. This is the last series. If no one gets the point here, everyone runs,” Coach Ok coolly informed her athletes. “Red, your possession. Ball’s in.”

Looking back on things, Byulyi could only blame herself. Her team moved the ball well, but the blue team’s defense was stifling. Every move red made, a defender from the blue team was a step ahead.

“Two seconds on the shot clock,” one of her teammates yelled out to her.

Heaving a 3-point shot up, the rubber ball looped around the rim before spitting back out. Everyone looked for the nearest opponent to box out or one‑up while simultaneously tracking the trajectory of the ball.

The thing is, the rule is always “long shot, long rebound”. Always.

In her haste, the senior forgot. Momentarily surprised by the ball careening past her out on the perimeter, Byulyi made to chase after it but was left even more surprised as a teammate on the other team dove for the ball. She ended up getting it, but that was an afterthought as Byul’s piercing scream sent chills through everyone in the gym.

Writhing in pain, the senior clutched desperately at her right ankle as she did her best not to cry. While her teammate got the basketball, the girl also slid into Byul’s planted foot, twisting it harshly amidst the commotion. The pain was excruciating, something akin to the shock of a jolt of electricity, but it was all concentrated in her ankle.

Yujin, the team trainer, rushed out to the court and poked and prodded, asking questions about where and how much it hurt. The rest of the team was ushered away, probably being given a speech about the importance of finishing practice strong and keeping their heads about them. Byulyi couldn’t focus on any of it. Her attention was split between on breathing in through her nose and out through , and lamenting all the progress that had been made over the past month.

Maybe all progression had to come to a stop.                                   

Note: Happy New Year! Was supposed to say that last update but I forgot because time has blended together and even though I knew the new year was coming, I didn’t know that the new year was coming.

Last chapter, you all went off in the comments section. It was a beautiful thing. Not sure if I gave enough material this time around to inspire the same level of commenting, but we’ll see. If I remember the other things I wanted to add in this note, I’ll add it later.

ETA: very important—Seungyeon is not CLC's Seungyeon. Seungyeon was intended to be an OC whose physical appearance is that of Nana from After School. Plenty of people have been asking so I wanted to clear that up.