From: Yong

Hope your meeting is going well ❤️ 2:11 pm                       

A heart. Yongsun sent her a heart. Unprompted. She did that of her own volition.

Internally, Byulyi was aggressively fist-pumping. This was a big deal. This was ground gained. Progress made.

On the outside, though, she kept her composure. She wasn’t supposed to be on her phone. She was supposed to be listening to her agent. And she was, until her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her pants. Thankfully, her father had asked a question that led to an animated conversation among the three adults in the room—it gave her just enough time to hide the phone underneath the extravagant mahogany boardroom table and send a quick response.

To: Yong

❤️

(You just woke up, didn’t you?) 2:12 pm

From: Yong

Pay attention to your meeting, not my sleeping habits 2:13 pm

To: Yong

It’s impossible to not pay attention to everything you do 🙈🙊 2:13 pm

Yongsun wouldn’t respond to that. Not right now, at least. If Moonbyul had to guess, the graduate student was a blushing mess, trying and failing to handle Byulyi’s flirtatious words. Because, make no mistake, the words were flirtatious. She’d been doing more of that recently, being explicitly flirtatious.

“Did you hear that, Byul?” Coach Do suddenly asked her. The older woman knew the brunette had been distracted. This was unquestionably her way of telling the young woman to focus.

“I missed that part, sorry. Could you repeat it, please?” She asked the agent while quickly pocketing her phone. Feeling her coach’s intense glare from the left, the senior looked straight ahead and focused intently on what the man across the table from her was saying. She’d be getting an earful later from the woman beside her.

“Of course, no problem.”

She, her father, and Coach Do had been here for 45 minutes already. Within the first few moments, the elephant in the room was addressed— “Your injury hasn’t significantly impacted offers. It’s a sprain, a high ankle sprain, but a sprain, nonetheless. With the proper care, those heal well. The teams that had an interest are still interested.” With that weight lifted off her shoulders, Byul was able to process the information subsequently thrown at her.

The four of them spent the next three quarters of an hour going from country to country, league to league, digging into the details of proposed contracts. And there were handfuls of them—Australia, Spain, Turkey, England, China, South Korea. There were serious offers from teams in all over the world.

“Your dad had asked which of the offers I’d recommend you take, but as it’s a momentous decision for you, I asked if you had any preferences for a landing spot?”

Byulyi had to make sure to thank Coach Ok and Coach Do for setting her up with Baek Sungho. In his mid-50s, the seasoned sports agent radiated uncle vibes that masked the shark he truly was. Coach Do had shared a few stories about some of the ways in which Sungho shook teams down to get the most money for his clients. It was one thing to hear about his ways, it was another to be one of the clients for whom the calm and composed grey-haired man was battling multimillion-dollar organizations on behalf of.

“Up until now, I hadn’t given it much thought,” she answered honestly.

“Are there any conditions you’re looking to set? For example, maybe you’ll only sign somewhere that you’ll have a guaranteed starting spot? Or maybe you want chartered flights included in the deal? It can be anything, really.”

“That’s . . . wow. Didn’t know those were within bounds to ask for.”

“You’d be surprised. Clients ask for a host of things.”

It was embarrassing, but Byul ultimately admitted that she hadn’t thought of any of that and had no idea of where to even start. “I just want to play good basketball and grow as a player.” As cliché as it sounded, it was true. Regardless of where she went, she’d get paid. Money wouldn’t be the deciding factor.

“Lovely! If that’s the case, then, to answer your dad’s question, I’d recommend focusing on the WKBL here in South Korea or the KBSL in Turkey. In terms of money, you’d stand to gain the most in China, but their teams only take one foreign player each and they usually target internationally recognized names, so they’re not an option.”

“Turkey?”

“Yes. You know the quality of their league, but they also pay very well and have great additional perks. Of all teams offering, Fenerbahçe S.K. in Turkey has the highest base salary. They would also provide housing and a car for you to drive around. You’ve said you’re able to speak English, so we won’t have to ask for a translator, but if you’d feel more comfortable with one, we can request one. Also, at the moment of signing, you’d get a signing bonus. That, however, won’t be until after your season at university is complete—you can’t be an active college-athlete and a signed professional athlete. With the WKBL, every team has reached out. It would be a matter of your preference. Base salaries aren’t as high as what Fenerbahçe is offering, but combined with the sponsorships floating around, all things considered, staying local would yield the most money.”

“Compared to Korea, what are the facilities like with Fenerbahçe?”

“They’re top of the top. Facilities among WKBL teams varies greatly, but the top teams are solid. Fenerbahçe is on par with them, I’d say. It’d be hard to find a better coach than who they have, though. From what they’ve told me, their head coach likes you a lot. He’s convinced everyone in the organization that you’re the future and they’re on board with that.”

“Their coach?” Moonbyul asked for clarification.

“He was one of the assistant coaches for Spain during the Olympics,” Coach Do explained.

Oh! While she didn’t have any personal interaction with him during their game against Spain, Byulyi nodded as she remembered how hard-fought of a game they had against the European powerhouse. Even in defeat, South Korea gave Spain a run for its money.

“Of course,” Sungho reassured her, “we don’t have to make a decision today. The purpose, which I think we accomplished, was to review the offers and narrow things down. Take your time to mull everything over. Today is . . . Thursday, the 17^th. Let’s schedule another meeting for the first full week of January and see where we are at that time. We can talk more details and, if you’re comfortable, give the team of your choosing a verbal confirmation. How does that sound?” He asked, making eye contact with all three of the people across from him to confirm that they were fine with the decision. All three nodded, but neither Coach Do nor Byul’s father spoke up.

Realizing that this was about her, Moonbyul answered for everyone. “That sounds great. I’ll likely have a bunch of questions in the meantime. Is it okay if I send them your way?”

“Of course. You all have my card and I’ve written my personal number on there. Call me whenever.”

That was that. In three weeks, Byul would be back in Baek Sungho’s fancy Seoul office, possibly confirming which team she’d be playing professionally for.

*

“Coach Do, thank you for accompanying Byul and me to this meeting. Beyond being a fan of the sport, I don’t know much about the business side of things. I’m grateful that Byulyi has someone as knowledgeable as you by her side through this process.”

“All of us at SNU care deeply about Byul. It’s my pleasure to be here with the two of you and support in any way I can,” Siwan responded, voice soft and sweet.

“In times like this, Byul’s mom and I are glad that our Byulyi ended up playing for SNU. Byul, I’m going to get the car, come down whenever you’re done up here.”

As soon as her father disappeared behind the boardroom’s closed doors, Coach Do became a different person. Her smile dropped immediately.

“What the is wrong with you?”

“Coach! I didn’t do anything,” the senior exclaimed.

“Stop whining. We came here for a meeting with this agent and you spend half the time on your phone,” she chastised Moonbyul as the two made the empty room their own.

They went back and forth as the brunette did her best to explain the situation to her coach. Once the older woman calmed down, Byulyi asked for her thoughts on everything they’d heard from Sungho.

“You’re not going to start if you go to Turkey.”

“Jesus,” Byul breathed in shock at the candor.

“This is why you asked me to come with you, correct? You wanted someone that could tell it to you like it is. In addition to the homegrown talent there, there are talented players from around the world, including WNBA players that go there for their offseason. Fenerbahçe has dominated that league, they’re champions. They participate in the Euroleague, so in addition to facing top talent in Turkey, they play the best of the best European teams, too. It’s serious competition.”

“So I should stay in Korea?”

“It’s up to you. If you want to start and make a ton of money, stay here with a team in the WKBL. If you want to learn and grow, if you want a challenge, go to Turkey.”

“So . . .  I should go to Turkey?”

“Moonbyul. This is your decision. I’m here to give advice. I did that. I cannot and will not make this decision for you.”

“What if I make the wrong decision?”

Maybe it was clear in her voice how desperate for help the athlete was, but she saw her coach’s eyes soften.

“That’s what life is. We sometimes make a decision in the moment that doesn’t work long term. That’s when we reassess and make a new decision. Whatever you choose, you’ll be able to unchoose. You’re lucky, not every situation works like that, but it works like that with basketball. Wherever you go, you’ll be making a lot of money, so that’s not what this decision is about. Figure out what you want basketball-wise and go where you’ll be able to achieve that.”

Byulyi leaned against the back of one of the fancy leather chairs with one of her crutches tucked under her arm as she processed the words of wisdom. Thankfully, Do Siwan let her.

“I’m kind of afraid,” she whispered. That was a big statement. It meant many things as there were several things about the situation that scared her, but those would stay secret for now.

“I can tell.”

“How do I get rid of that?”

“Tackle whatever you’re afraid of head-on.”

“Mmm . . . I guess.”

After a few moments of calming silence, Byulyi thanked the older woman and suggested they finally head out.

They made it down the hall to the elevator, the only sound between them the steady click-clack of Byul’s crutches striking the tiled floor. After a few minutes, a ding signaled their elevator arriving. Assuming their last few minutes together would continue in silence, Byulyi was shocked when her coach spoke up again.

“’It’s impossible to not play attention to everything you do.’ Is that . . . how kids flirt these days?”

“Coach!” The senior’s voice bounced off of the elevator’s walls. The blush creeping across her face could not be stopped.

“What? I’m just trying to understand!”

“How did you even see that?!”

“You did a horrible job of hiding the phone, Byulyi. I let it go at first because I assumed it was an emergency, then I saw what was actually going on. Seriously, was that you flirting? Because it was . . . weak. Very weak.”

“Oh my gosh . . .”

*

The drive back to University Village was eerily quiet. Or maybe it only felt eerie to Byul. Maybe it was her unresolved uncertainty of things to come that left her buzzing and acutely aware of everything—every smell, every sound, everything. She just couldn’t focus. And her father was not the man to pull her out of that. He, too, was a thinker. A man of thoughts, not words.

Sighing dramatically for the fifth time—she’d been counting—Moonbyul glanced her father’s way. No reaction.

Accepting defeat, she broke the silence.

“Appa, what are your thoughts on the meeting? On everything?”

From the time she shared with her parents that going pro was an option she was considering, her father hadn’t shared much of an opinion. Aside from offering to take the day off today to accompany her to this meeting, Moon Sangcheol didn’t mention professional basketball. In addition to desperately needing the advice, Byulyi was genuinely curious about where he stood on things.

Before the reticent man uttered any words, the brunette felt the vehicle lurch to a stop. They had reached UV.

With still no words coming from her father, Byul opened to ask the question again—he must not have heard her—when her father’s low yet powerful voice filled the empty space.

“I won’t pretend to understand what’s happening. I have no idea. That’s why I haven’t asked you anything about it. It’s not because I don’t care, it’s because I don’t understand. And that’s hard for me to admit.” He had yet to look her way, each word directed at the windshield. “As a father, my job is to provide for my family, step in with answers—I don’t have any of those right now. This is unfamiliar territory. So, I apologize if what you’re looking for are answers. I don’t have any. All I have,” he finally released his grip on the steering wheel and turned to face his eldest daughter, “are words of assurance. Your mother and I, we love you. We’re proud of you. The dream was for you to get a good education and have it paid for through basketball. In half a year, you’ll accomplish that, you’ll graduate from one of the best universities in the country. Everything else has been beyond our wildest dreams and of your own doing. Do you know what it’s like watching your eldest daughter represent the country at the Olympics? I can die proud, Byul-ah. You’ve made us proud and you’ve worked hard. The decision ahead of you is an important one. Make it with a clear head. If you’re considering staying in Korea for your own well-being, do that. If you’re considering staying for our sake, don’t. It’s not that we want to shoo you away—of course we’d love to watch you play professionally, but we want you to live your life. Do what’s best for you. You’ve worked hard for all of this, so have fun. Enjoy it. You’ve earned it.”

Vision growing blurry from the tears that unknowingly weighed on her lower lids, Moonbyul blinked her eyes free of the tears threatening to hold her captive. To call this a rare moment of emotion from her father would be an understatement. Byul knew he was proud of her, but to hear him say it, and in as many words as he did, was something it’d take years to fully process.

His words weren’t what she was looking for, but Moonbyul shouldn’t have been surprised that they were exactly what she needed.

*

Still reeling from the emotional moment with her father, Byulyi exited the UV elevator on the third floor and, instead of turning left, the senior headed to the right. She needed Yongsun.

Not bothering with formalities, she entered the apartment code and crutched through the door.

“Um, can I help you?” Ugh, Chorong.

“Where’s Yong?”

The older woman simply pointed down the hall towards Yongsun’s bedroom. Wasting no time, the senior headed to her destination without sparing another look Chorong’s way. As she retreated, she could hear the other woman snicker a disgusted “couldn’t even say thank you. Rude.”

She’d fix that later. She had to. If she was going to date Yongsun, Byulyi knew she’d need Chorong on her side. Ugh.

Barging through the familiar beige door, Moonbyul saw a startled Yongsun rise quickly form her desk chair.

“What the–”

Before the blonde could complete her statement, Byulyi had dropped her metal supports and thrown herself at Yongsun, pulling the older woman into a tight embrace, all while balancing on her uninjured leg. Burying her face in the shorter woman’s neck, Byul ignored the several attempts Yongsun made at getting her to explain what had happened.

Maybe it was 30 seconds, maybe it was 5 minutes, Byulyi didn’t know. What she did know was that after the fourth time of asking “what’s wrong?” Yongsun let her be, let her cling to her, let her compose herself. She always knew how to handle her, and Byul would never stop thanking the powers that be for putting such a perfect woman in her life.

“Do you want to lie down?”

She didn’t answer verbally, but Yongsun must have felt her nod profusely because a moment later, the older woman was pulling her towards the bed. Not one to forget her manners, Moonbyul helped Yongsun up before using her upper-body strength to lift herself up.

They took their time getting situated—Yongsun on her back, Byul on top of her, head nestled into the older woman’s chest—before Yongsun tried again.

“What happened?”

Distracted for a moment by the way Yongsun’s heart began beating faster when Byulyi wrapped arms around her waist, the youngest of the pair eventually snapped out of it and gave an answer.

“My dad told me today that he and my mom are proud of me. He dropped me off and told me that. Then he gave me a hug and kissed me.”

She thought it would’ve been more difficult to share that, but it slipped out so easily. Sharing small, yet personal, details like this with Yongsun came so naturally now. It was becoming second-nature to just say things simply because she wanted Yongsun to know them, too.

“Is that . . . a bad thing?”

“No. It was just very surprising. You know he’s not the type for displays of affection like that.”

“It seems like no Korean father is the type to do that.”

“Hyejin’s dad is. He’s very affectionate.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I met him. Wait, I did. Last year when he came to pick up Wheein and Hyejin’s things for winter break. He was very sweet.”

“Mmm.”

“Back to you though. What about him saying and doing that made you come here in hysterics?”

“It’s just . . . overwhelming. Like, he’s my dad. He’s one of the people I look up to the most and here he is telling me that he’s proud of me and that I’ve exceeded his dreams and all this other stuff. I know he meant what he said, but it makes me feel like I have to work even harder to keep making him proud.”

“Sounds like he and your mom are going to be proud no matter what.”

“That’s what he said, but I still feel like I have to do more. All these teams are throwing money at me, but I don’t feel like I deserve it. If anything, my parents deserve it. I haven’t done anything worthy of it.”

On and on and on she went, dumping her feelings of inadequacy on Yongsun. The blonde listened attentively, all the while Byulyi’s hair.

Growing self-aware of the fact she’d been talking endlessly, the brunette tried to make light of the situation. “You’re not saying anything. Am I talking too much?”

“This moment isn’t about me. Why would I say something?”

“I don’t know, you normally say something,” Byul answered, words spaced out as Yongsun’s magic fingers brought her closer and closer to sleep.

“You’re battling against your own internal feelings. Nothing anyone else says is going to fix that. I can’t fix that, only you can. I can listen, I can hold you, I can be here for you, but that’s all. So, that’s what I’m doing.”

Lifting her head and gently balancing her chin on Yongsun’s ribs, Byulyi stared intently at the woman in front of her. Yongsun stared back. Goodness, she was beautiful. Even with her oversized t-shirt and hair in a messy bun, she was just . . . everything.

Ignoring the way her own heart raced faster, Byulyi continued staring, eyes dropping for a few beats to Yongsun’s lips, long enough that she knew the graduate student caught her, but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to get caught. Actually, she wanted to lean in a bit and finally kiss Yongsun, but Byulyi remembered that she promised herself she’d do this properly.

“What are we doing for my birthday?” She changed the topic suddenly, voice notably husky.

“All of us are coming over on Saturday, but other than that, I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“You didn’t plan anything for the day of?”

“I got your gift, but that’s it.”

“Let’s go out.”

“Excuse me?” Yongsun asked and coughed a bit.

“Let’s go out for my birthday,” she repeated with more confidence. “You’ve always said that you want us to go out more often, so for my birthday, let’s do that. I want to go somewhere. Just the two of us.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Yongsun sent Moonbyul into a tailspin as she took forever to respond. Was she laying it on too thick? As she replayed the conversation in her head, maybe this sudden insistence that they go out was out of place? Maybe she–

“Okay,” Yongsun whispered.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” the graduate student gingerly held Byul’s face between both hands and caressed her cheeks, “okay. We can go out for your birthday.”

“Okay,” Moonbyul flashed a brilliant, bright smile of relief and excitement.

Finals were over. There were no longer academic demands hanging over their heads, and they behaved as such. For the rest of the day, Yongsun and Byulyi stayed lying in each other’s arms, stomachs pressed close. The athlete recapped the day’s events as she enjoyed the slender fingers that languidly continued massaging her follicles. She shared everything, from how much money she stood to make, to all the teams that were interested, to what her final choices seemed to be. The more she spoke, though, the more she realized that she hadn’t factored Yongsun into the decision.

There was something between them. Eight days had passed since her injury and, in that time, things between her and Yongsun had shifted. Prior to that, everyone else had figured or guessed that the older woman maybe, probably, might have more-than-friendly feelings for Byul. No one knew for sure. After their time together this past week, though, Moonbyul could tell. She knew there was something coming from Yongsun’s end. Especially over the course of the past few days, something was different. Be it the way Yongsun held her, or the way the blonde’s breath would grow heavy when Byulyi touched her, there was something there and Moonbyul wanted to explore that properly. She owed it to herself and to Yongsun to put her best foot forward and give them a real chance of becoming more. To do that, she needed to be in Korea. Well, maybe not needed, but things between them would develop more smoothly if she stayed in Korea.

“Wow. Korea and Turkey. Are you leaning towards one more than the other?”

“Slightly.”

“This is the part where you tell which one it is you’re leaning towards,” Yongsun verbally nudged.

“Haven’t made the decision yet, but I’m thinking about staying in Korea. There’s a lot of flexibility if I stay. I’d have more options. Plus, I’m still in the mix for the National Team. It would be easier to be part of that if I was around.” And I could date you.

“Hmm. Well, I’d support you in whatever you decide. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m so grateful for you. You’re the best, Yong. Thank you.”

“Why are you suddenly thanking me?” The graduate student sputtered, suddenly flustered.

“Because I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me.”

“Oh yeah? How much do I mean to you?”

“You mean the world to me.”

No verbal response came.

As had become customary though, Moonbyul felt Yongsun’s heart thumping against her chest, and smiled tenderly against Yongsun’s stomach as the streams of air expelled from the older woman’s nose gently tickled her eyelashes.

An impression! She was finally making a strong one.

*

The next day started off the same as every other day since Moonbyul got hurt: physical therapy with Yujin at 8 am, a half-hour break starting at 10 am, then a consultation with Kwon Jihun at 10:30 am before being released at 12 pm.

The sequence was physically exhausting, but more than anything, having to re‑learn the basics, like how to walk, was a mental drain. Demoralizing was really the word she’d use for it, but Kwon Jihun had drilled into her the importance of positively reframing things.

Thankfully, today brought with it the promise of excitement. Byulyi, Heeyeon, and Kisum were getting their tattoos! The fact that they found a day and time that worked for all three of them was a miracle. Even more so that they were able to find a tattoo artist they all agreed on.

Having gone through more than enough he said, she said, they recommended, the young women felt comfortable with an artist that Kisum’s girlfriend heard of through a friend.

“Dahye swears by her. She said that one of her closest friends gets every tattoo from this lady.”

And that was what sealed the deal on this Taena woman. Dating Kisum aside, Dahye had high standards. She wouldn’t steer them wrong with this recommendation.

Pulling up to the apartment that matched the address Dahye gave them, Byulyi took her time exiting her car’s backseat. Heeyeon and Kisum eventually joined her on the sidewalk, all three taking in the residential area around them.

“You sure this is the correct place,” Heeyeon asked skeptically.

“Positive. Dahye-unnie made me memorize it.”

“You sound like a child,” Byul .

“Maybe. Let’s say that’s true, then I’d a child with a girlfriend. What about you?”

“I’d be not a child that has a date next week,” the senior smirked smugly.

“Wait, what?” Heeyeon interjected.

“A date. I have a date next week. On my birthday, to be exact.”

The three walked at a leisurely pace as they spoke, Kisum and Heeyeon cautious of pushing Byulyi to walk too quickly. She’d worked her way up to a secure ankle brace and one crutch instead of the clunky walking boot and two crutches, but Byul still had her limitations, and her friends didn’t want to be the reasons for any setbacks in her progress.

“With whom do you have a date?” Heeyeon asked, interest piqued.

“Yong.” She could finally say that. Byul was proud of herself.

They arrived at the apartment’s door and buzzed the unit they’d been instructed to find.

“How did that happen? Tell us everything,” Heeyeon commanded. Piling into the elevator, the ride up to the fourth floor was full of Moonbyul’s excited squeals and glee-filled words that told the full story of how it was she finally made a substantial move towards securing a relationship with Yongsun. Proud of herself, the athlete let silence hang in the air after completing her tale.

“Unnie . . . are you sure Yongsun-unnie knows that this is a date?”

“Of course she knows it’s a date. What else would it be?”

“I mean . . . it kind of just sounds like the two of you are going to be hanging out for your birthday,” Heeyeon reluctantly admitted.

“No. It’s not like that. Trust me.” She couldn’t tell them about heartbeats, quickened breaths, and emotion-filled touches. They wouldn’t get it. “Just trust me. It’s different. It’s different. It means something.”

“Maybe it’s a you and her thing. Something only the two of you understand,” Kisum tried to reassure her.

“Yeah, maybe it’s that,” Heeyeon agreed.

“I asked her to go out and she said yes. That’s a date,” she frustratedly explained.

“You asked her to go out for your birthday. That’s the part that’s making it weird. But, again, if she knows it’s a date then that’s all that matters.”

That soured her mood for the rest of the day. They found the secret tattoo studio. They got their tattoos. The tattoo artist was lovely. Everything went perfectly. But Moonbyul couldn’t enjoy any of it, she was too preoccupied with fretting over the seeds of doubt Heeyeon and Kisum had planted.

Yongsun knew it was a date, right? They were going out on a date. Byulyi hadn’t explicitly said the word, but it was clear that this would be a date.

Right?

Note: Right?! Lmao. Question: why is everyone assuming the story would end after anything happened between these two? That would be so anticlimactic. It would send people into a rage. Y’all would curse me out for days. Hmm . . . I’m thinking . . .

Unrelated and much more serious than my usual notes, a lot happened in the world this week. Hoping that you all can find moments of peace, happiness, and humor ♥

Will be back to regularly scheduled jokes (and hopefully a better written chapter) next week. Usually hate spoilers, but the next update will be Yongsun’s! Things have been too cute for too long :)