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yongsun President of her fan club.

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yongsun Anyone with sense would know I didn’t post this 🙄

^{20m         3 likes     Reply}

          |yongsun @yongsun It’s on your account! Who else would post here?

          |yongsun @yongsun Childish.

hyejin Stay away from Yongsun-unnie! Get a job!

^{10m         5 likes           Reply}

          |yongsun @hyejin What do you mean? I posted this.

heeyeon Why do I find this cute? 🙊

          |yongsun @heeyeon 😎

taecyeon The fact that I know who posted this makes it better 😂

          |yongsun @taecyeon Yes, I posted this?

chorong Both of you are idiots. Please lower your voices, I’m trying to get work done.

          |yongsun @chorong Sorry 😰

^{Add a comment . . .}

“You got me in trouble with Chorong,” Yongsun gave Byulyi’s shoulder a strong slap. That was it. That was what sent her and Moonbyul into a fit of laughter that had lasted for the past 10 minutes.

It was stupid. They were stupid.

What preceded all of this was Moonbyul posing as Yongsun and posting a picture of herself on the older woman’s account. The picture in question was one that Yongsun took of her a couple of nights ago.

Knee-deep in work, she looked traitorously at the cell phone that violently vibrated atop the wooden desk she sat at. Elbows propped against the table and head in her hands, the graduate student contemplated silencing the call and diving back into the report she desperately needed to complete before going to bed. Peeking at the name and picture flashing across the screen, though, Yongsun couldn’t find it in her to do such a thing.

“Hey,” she sighed, the exhaustion coating the one syllable uttered.

“I’m bored.” Right to it.

“How am I supposed to help with that?”

“Let’s go for a drive.” Rubbing her eyes, Yongsun let out a deep breath. Byulyi just sometimes made no sense.

“It’s after 1:00 a.m., Byul-ah.” The graduate student made sure to enunciate each word as if talking to a toddler.

“I know.”

“Okay . . .”

“I was working on an assignment but got hit with a sudden lack of motivation. Driving around always makes me feel better.”

“I think you didn’t hear when I said that it’s after 1:00 a.m.”

“I know,” she repeated, as if, given the situation, her request made a of sense. “And I know you have work at 9:00 am It’ll be quick. Promise.”

“Byul-ah . . .”

“It’ll be quick. I promise you. Plus, you sound like you could use the break.”

Of course, Yongsun gave in. And, of course, after trudging to the parking lot, the pair ended up not driving anywhere. They just sat in the stationary car, lights off, the soft purr of the engine and the warm air from the vent the only sounds offsetting the quiet morning.

In the photo, Byulyi sat in the driver’s seat of her car wearing a cap and an oversized navy-blue hoodie. Phone in her hand, she had looked up at Yongsun calling her name with a smoldering look in her eyes. Truthfully, it stirred something within the older woman, being the subject of such a gaze. Until she remembered that Moonbyul dragged her out of her room and away from her schoolwork, only to ignore her while she sat there the entire time scrolling through her phone.

The picture was meant to document the mistreatment. But now Moonbyul had made it public.

What was worse was the fact that the senior posted the same picture on her own Instagram account with the caption “paparazzi 📸”. Yongsun nearly throttled Byulyi right then and there but, try as she might, all steam left her when the athlete began laughing uncontrollably at her mischievous actions. In fact, she ended up joining Moonbyul. They sat on the living room couch just laughing—their dinner forgotten and devoured long ago—, Byulyi’s head resting on Yongsun’s shoulder after the strength of her amusement tipped her over.

They were truly just idiots. Nothing about any of this was even that funny.

“You’re like a big baby,” Yongsun whined after finally catching her breath from laughing so hard.

“So baby me,” Byul pouted into her neck.

“Ew.”

Her faux disgust sent them into another wave of irrational hysterics. Both she and Byul knew Yongsun enjoyed every moment of this ridiculousness.

In the two weeks since agreeing to be “friends-with-benefits”, the pair had grown more physically comfortable with each other. Or, rather, they’d made their way closer to their old normal, when they’d instinctively touch and cuddle and hug all the time. They had to relearn and reacclimate themselves to all of that, slowly picking away at the awkwardness around what used to be routine behavior. Byul nuzzling into her neck was evidence of the ground they’d regained.

“How were you even able to sign into my account on your phone?”

“Remember that one time you used it to sign into IG? You never signed out,” she felt Byul shrug.

“That was one time last year! Anyone else would have logged out like a normal person.”

“I’m not normal. That’s what’s so attractive about me.” The athlete didn’t miss a beat. Those words came immediately. Yongsun was disgusted.

“Ew! You are so gross.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe that was a bit much,” Byulyi giggled, the admission sending both women, once again, into boisterous laughter.

“Yongsun, seriously! Shut up! I am trying to do work and I can’t concentrate because, even with my door closed, I can hear the two of being stupid and annoying.”

Chorong wasn’t usually as easily aggravated as she was tonight. Only a couple weeks into the semester, both graduate students were inundated with more work than they felt they could handle, but that wasn’t the cause of her roommate’s irritability. Well, not the full cause—Chorong and Insoo were in the middle of their biggest fight since their relationship officially began 2 months ago. The other woman had been snappy and cranky all week. Prolonging the conversation, at this point, would do more harm than good.

“Sorry, Rongie. We’ll go to my room,” Yongsun immediately apologized in a subdued manner. Gently nudging Moonbyul to get up, the graduate student promptly cleared their dishes before escaping to her bedroom with the younger woman in tow.

“I was actually afraid,” Byulyi said as soon as they’d entered the bedroom and closed the door.

“Me, too,” Yongsun exclaimed. She bent over laughing, albeit it at a lower volume—still worried Chorong would hear them from the other end of the hall—while Moonbyul flopped onto Yongsun’s bed and got comfortable.

The room fell into a comfortable silence after that. Yongsun flung her cell phone onto the bed, not worried about where it landed and traipsed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. The time alone, no matter how short-lived, was much needed. It allowed her time to think.

Yongsun knew that what Moonbyul wanted was for them to be in a relationship. Not the still-ambiguous space they currently occupied, but an actual relationship with . . . well, with everything they already did and the added security, for Byulyi anyway, of labels.

And yet, despite what she so clearly wanted, Moonbyul had been extremely patient with her, even going as far as offering this friends-with-benefits thing to ease some of Yongsun’s worries. Truthfully, she was in awe of the younger woman’s selflessness, taken aback by how determined Byul was to make her feel safe. To make her feel loved. That’s the emotion the graduate student felt emanating from her best friend in waves. Love. Byulyi loved her so damn much. Even without the words being verbalized, Yongsun could feel it.

It scared her less. The fear that she was unworthy of and unable to live up to the expectations that came with that much love sat in her gut like a log, weighing her down with trepidation.

“Your phone’s buzzing,” a deep voice floated from the bedroom, completely unaware of the self-induced freakout Yongsun was experiencing.

“Is it Chorong again?” The end of the question was punctuated with her spitting out toothpaste from .

“Nope, one of your other friends.” The sudden cryptic reply was a stark difference from the Moonbyul of moments ago.

“Which friend?” Yongsun prompted. All of her friends knew Byulyi, and Byulyi knew all of her friends. The behavior was strange.

“Seungyeon,” she responded stiffly. There was an extra edge in her tone, too, some agitation, Yongsun thought. As if it were a betrayal that Yongsun would force that name to come from her lips.

“Mmm.” The older woman wasn’t sure what else to say.

It was almost guaranteed that Seungyeon was texting to confirm their meetup the next night, the meetup Yongsun suggested so that she could end things. But Seungyeon didn’t know that, and it felt a violation of the other woman’s privacy to share the news with Byulyi first. Even if it would calm the athlete down, it didn’t sit right with Yongsun to do such a thing.

And so, she bore the eerie quiet as Moonbyul lay on the bed scrolling through her phone, the jovial mood from earlier completely washed away. For minutes, Yongsun gingerly meandered around her room as she completed her nighttime skincare routine and changed into her pajamas. Being on bad terms with Byulyi was never a spot she enjoyed being in, though, so, once she finished everything, Yongsun timidly climbed into her spot on the bed and launched into a silly story from her day hoping it would warm the athlete up.

It did not.

The woman beside her lay on her back, eyes buried in her phone, barely listening to anything Yongsun was saying. No head nods, no clarifying questions, not even an emotionless “mmm” to pretend that she was paying attention. No. The young woman wanted to make it very clear that she was sulking, and she did so by repeatedly passing her thumb along the face of her cellphone. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.

At one point, all she did was refresh Instagram repeatedly—Yongsun had a clear view of Moonbyul’s phone. It would have been funny if it weren’t so frustrating.

Suddenly, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to sleep.”

The announcement took Yongsun by surprise. A small part of her hoped that they’d end the night in higher spirits, but she dejectedly accepted Byulyi’s decision.

What was more of a surprise was that the brunette tucked her phone away and rolled off of the bed. They’d been easing back into sleeping together more often over the past couple weeks, so Yongsun assumed this would be one of those nights.

It was growing late and Moonbyul was still over. Not that Yongsun minded. Since everything went down with their confessions and kisses and change in relationship status, sleepovers became a thing of the past. Yongsun felt the awkwardness around the topic and steered clear of it. Byul did the same. But tonight, the graduate student didn’t much feel like sleeping alone. The two were cuddling on her bed, Byul watching Fenerbahçe games on her phone, and Yongsun watching Byul watch Fenerbahçe games on her phone. It was nice. She didn’t want it to end.

But it was getting late.

“Alright,” the younger woman started, “I think I’m gonna head out. Starting to get tired.” She said all that but made no move to extract herself from Yongsun.

Five minutes of neither woman changing the position they were in, Yongsun ignored the knocking against her chest and shyly spoke up. “It’s late and we’re already comfortable. You could spend the night if you want.”

“I mean, yeah, if that’s what you want. That’s cool with me,” Byulyi hedged.

“Yeah, it’s cool with me,” Yongsun shrugged lightly, all part of her great effort to appear nonchalant.

The athlete so ready now to scamper off was a surefire sign, then, that the text from Seungyeon was affecting her more than she wanted to show.

After collecting her things, Yongsun watched disappointedly as Byul walked off. The younger woman reached the bedroom door and stiffened with her hand on the doorknob before doubling back and placing a brief, close-mouthed peck on her lips. Yongsun didn’t remember when, but goodnight kisses quickly became a regular part of their nightly routine. Tonight’s hard and fast smooch was miles away from the ones imbued with a passion that they usually shared. Before she could caress Byulyi’s face as she usually did, the kiss was over.

Still, Yongsun supposed, what she got was better than nothing. Even when upset, Byulyi didn’t leave things fully on a bad note. She took solace in that.

“Goodnight,” the athlete grumbled after pulling away.

Her farewell died on the tip of her tongue as Moonbyul stalked off, not waiting for Yongsun to say it back.

*

Byulyi had a 9:00 am class. This Yongsun knew. So the fact that she didn’t receive a “good morning” message from the athlete until noon spoke volumes. It wasn’t even that Yongsun cared for the messages, she could do without them and had told Moonbyul this on several occasions. Still, the younger woman insisted on sending them soon after waking up. The fact, then, that today’s message came as late as it did . . . the text from Seungyeon was still bothering her.

To: Byul-ah

Lol.

Have a good day, Byul-ah. Be careful at practice.

Going out tonight so I’ll be back late.

Feel free to text me at any point though. 12:15 pm

From: Byul-ah

k. 12:45 pm

Nobody could get under her skin the way Moon Byulyi could. It was sick, literally sick, how Yongsun’s fist balled up immediately after reading that response: one ing letter. No doubt the athlete added the damn period at the end on purpose. She was being petty.

Closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths, Yongsun put her phone away. She was excellent at being petty, but now wasn’t the time to prove that to Moonbyul. Instead, the predicament strengthened the resolve within to go through with meeting Seungyeon later.

The two hadn’t spent time together exactly one month ago. They texted and sometimes video called, but no in-person meet-ups had taken place. It made Yongsun extremely nervous about how things would go down. She was, essentially, about blindside Seungyeon, but it had to be done. Continuing anything physical with her wasn’t right. Yes, whatever she had with Byulyi required and deserved her full attention, but more than that, Seungyeon deserved better, deserved nothing less than someone that would dote on her and return her feelings tenfold.

Yongsun couldn’t offer that. Thus far, all she’d offered Seungyeon was heartache. The realization was something the graduate student still hadn’t come to terms with. The no-strings-attached arrangement was exhilarating! Until strings were attached. And Yongsun didn’t do enough to stop their physical relationship when that happened. It was a tough pill to swallow that she was that careless. That was something she’d have to grapple with for weeks, if not months to come.

But now was not the time. She focused during sessions with athletes on her caseload at The Center and took proper notes while shadowing Boyoung, the Senior Academic Advisor assigned to mentor her.

The lump in her stomach returned, though, as soon as she left The Center and set off to the bar deeper into the city that she and Seungyeon agreed to meet at. From the bus to the train to her walk into the establishment, every breath inhaled and exhaled was ragged. Mental clarity escaped her, every thought clouded with second-guessing, and no one that she could reach out to for support. Her friends would do it if asked, but Yongsun didn’t find it in good form to ask for a pep talk so that she could go through with the breakup.

She and Seungyeon were never dating—at least she didn’t think so—but this still felt like a breakup. The only other one she’d been through was with Jinyoung and it felt the exact same: labored breathing, an unsettled stomach, and clammy hands. It .

Did she even have the right to complain about this? She was the one about to inflict pain upon someone else. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t an option afforded to her.

Hoping that it’d help with the jitters coursing through her body, Yongsun ordered a drink. It was a desperate attempt to feel ready for the difficult conversation to come. A futile one, too. Time came and went, the unopened bottle sweating as minutes passed.

That’s how Seungyeon found her, staring aimlessly as she traced beads of condensation on the still-unopened bottle with her index finger.

“It’s a soju kind of night?” She joked as she walked up to the table. The lights were dimmed, otherwise, Yongsun was sure Seungyeon would’ve seen the grimace on her face sooner.

“Might be.”

“Well, you’d need to open the bottle for that to happen.”

“Mmm.”

“No hug?”

“Oh, sorry.” Yongsun stood and walked into the open arms expecting her. Breathing Seungyeon in was a comfort she needed. It was also a comfort she didn’t deserve. “You smell so good.” The words were out before her brain-to-mouth filter was applied.

“Thank you. I was worried I wouldn’t. Have been running around at work all day,” the taller woman confessed.

“Really? Tell me about it.”

It was a sincere request. The kissing and touching aside, Seungyeon was someone whose calm presence improved any situation. It was an experience listening to her sultry voice talk about . . . anything. Everything about Seungyeon was attractive. The way she walked, the way she talked, how sweet and tender she was, how attractive she was. Everything. She was even funny. The inner turmoil that had been churning within all day subsided significantly as Yongsun felt tears of laughter forming in the corners of her eyes from the workplace stories Seungyeon had unleashed on her.

“That didn’t happen,” Yongsun insisted through her unrelenting laughter.

“I promise you. He walked up to our team so confused as to why no one was at the meeting. Come to find out, he never sent the calendar invites to us. Only added it to his personal calendar. I was so done that day, Yongsun.” The way those lips curled up in satisfaction at Yongsun’s continued laughter was dangerous. Seungyeon knew what she was doing, right down to the ed Oxford shirt that revealed the prominent collarbones the graduate student remembered i–

Not the point right now.

“Can you button your shirt, please?” It was a sudden ask, but the memories flooding her mind were not appropriate. Rubbing her temples roughly, Yongsun took a deep breath before looking up to amused brown eyes dancing dangerously in the low lights.

“What’s wrong with my shirt being ed?” Seungyeon smirked.

“It’s distracting.”

“Oh?”

“You know that it is.”

“So come button it then.”

This is what she needed to avoid. The flirtation. When she wanted to, Seungyeon excelled at smooth talking and charming Yongsun.

Taking a deep breath and smirking in disbelief at the situation she found herself in, Yongsun finally collected herself. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Then I’ll come over there so you can button it for me.”

“Why are you being like this,” Yongsun laughed.

“Because I haven’t seen you in a month and I missed you.”

“Seungyeon, please. Can you just button the shirt. It’s really distracting me.”

“Last we spoke, you needed a distraction from all that was going on.”

Steeling herself for the conversation to come, Yongsun finally opened the bottle of soju she’d ordered an hour earlier and took a shot. Grimacing, the young woman kept her gaze on the bottle. The less she had to look at Seungyeon, the better this would go. Not that it would go well at all, honestly.

“Mmm. Not anymore. Not that kind of distraction, at least. I’d get in trouble,” she trailed off.

“In trouble?” There was still a hint of humor in Seungyeon’s voice.

It did nothing to quell the anxiety building within Yongsun’s stomach.

“Yup,” she popped the ‘p’.

“Who would you get in trouble with?”

“The person I’m seeing, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” She wasn’t outright calling Yongsun a liar, but the lightheartedness in Seungyeon’s voice told the graduate student that her admission wasn’t being taken seriously.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head.

Cowardly. She couldn’t even meet the eyes of the woman across the table from her. Instead, the bottle’s cap became the most fascinating thing to Yongsun. Her words met with silence, she busied herself with twirling the metallic object in her fingers.

“We spoke last week and you didn’t mention seeing anyone.”

“I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Why? It’s something to adjust to, yeah, but you could’ve just told me. It’s not that big of a deal. We agreed that we could see other people while maintaining what we have.”

And that was what Yongsun needed to clear up. Up until this point, Seungyeon had dated other people, all the while maintaining clear communication with Yongsun about what was going on in that part of her life. Yongsun had never had any such update. There was never anyone else that she was dealing with. It was natural, then, that Seungyeon assumed this was simply a matter of adapting what they had to work around whatever Yongsun had with this new person. In a way, it was.

The floor was hers, but the words refused to come out. And unlike usual, Seungyeon didn’t bail her out, didn’t smooth things over by saying something, anything, to mask the stifling silence at their table. No. Instead, she sat and stared, waiting for an explanation.

Still playing with the bottlecap, Yongsun let out an unsure sigh. “I just wanted you to know, I guess. So that you’d understand if I started acting differently.”

“Differently how?” Only traces of curiosity detected in her question.

“Differently as in we can’t do what we normally do. At all.” Remembering how furious Byulyi was at seeing Seungyeon’s name reminded her of the situation’s severity. “It’s complicated with this person, but there’s an unspoken understanding that we won’t see other people while we figure out what we ar–”

A wry chuckle cut her off.

“Wow.” The sight was devastating. Elbows propped up on the table, Seungyeon sat across from Yongsun with her head in her hands. Looking up suddenly, both pairs of eyes met. In a matter of minutes, Seungyeon’s seemed to have aged years. They were weary and tired. “Honestly, I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to react. The entire time we’ve been hooking up, you’ve said you weren’t looking for a relationship. And now, out of nowhere, you’re in a relationship?

Yongsun winced at the tone being flung at her but couldn’t do much else. Seungyeon was right. Clarifying that she and Byulyi weren’t technically in a relationship would’ve been a cruel game of semantics. She was here putting an end to things with Seungyeon to clear the way for . . . something with Moonbyul. That, in itself, was a sign that what she and Byulyi were working towards was significant enough.

“We spoke last week,” Seungyeon mumbled to herself. “How do things escalate that quickly in the matter of a week?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

What did that mean?

Because Yongsun knew what it meant for her and Byulyi, but what stumped her was how to explain it to Seungyeon. Should she explain it to Seungyeon? That would be like rubbing salt in a wound, no?

“We’re trying to figure that out.”

“A relationship doesn’t just come out of nowhere.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“So you were with the person while we were messing around?”

“No, but I’ve known her for a while.”

“Her,” Seungyeon spoke to herself. “It’s a her.”

“Yeah.”

The taller woman shook her head in disbelief. “This doesn’t make any sense. And what makes it worse is that I don’t even need to ask. I know who it is.”

Eyes trained intently on Seungyeon now, Yongsun observed the woman’s every move, feeling a new stab in her heart when the other rolled her sleeves up, crossed her arms, and rested her head along the back of her chair, eyes up at the ceiling. For several minutes, neither spoke. The sounds from the small, yet bustling, crowd around them invaded their somber bubble.

There was nothing she could do to make this situation better. Everything she’d done thus far had only made things worse.

“So I was, what? A rebound from your previous relationship, or a placeholder until something started with her? And that’s a genuine question because right now, it feels like it could only be one of the two.”

“Neither. It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like? From the very beginning, you stressed over and over that you didn’t want a relationship. Not with me, not with anyone. Now you’re telling me not only are you considering a relationship, but there’s already someone you’re working on one with. How am I supposed to feel about that?”

“I’m sorry,” Yongsun held Seungyeon’s eyes. It didn’t make any of this better for the other woman, but her apology was sincere.

“That’s all you can say?”

“Anything else I say will sound like an excuse.” And that was the truth. There was plenty she could say about why she waited a week to drop this bombshell: she was scared to bring it up when they last spoke; she wanted to tell Seungyeon in person; she didn’t want to lose Seungyeon’s friendship; the list spanned pages.

But those all served to make Yongsun feel better about her cowardice. Right now was about Seungyeon, not about her.

Once again, silence engulfed them as Seungyeon sat and processed all that had been thrown at her. Yongsun sat and stared at the hands balled in her lap.

“I’m not putting all the blame on you, by the way,” Seungyeon sighed as she rubbed her head. “I developed feelings. That’s not your fault. There was no way for you to control that. Still, it hurts, y’know?” Yongsun figured that was a rhetorical question, so she stayed quiet. Talking her thoughts out was Seungyeon’s way of dealing with things. “To have been fighting a losing battle . . . that stings. To know that no matter what I did, you’d choose someone else in the end. Truthfully, I want to know, did I have a chance?”

“Seungyeon, please,” Yongsun pleaded. That wasn’t a question that either of them needed to have answered. Vision blurred from the liquid pooling along her lower lids, she aggressively wiped the moisture away before it could fall.

“If she weren’t in the picture, would I have had a chance? Would you have considered me?”

Reluctantly, Yongsun’s head slowly bobbed up and down. The least she could do was be honest, even if that honesty caused Seungyeon’s face to crumple most agonizingly.

“What does she have that I don’t?” The question was heart-wrenching. It was also beneath Seungyeon, Yongsun thought. The woman across from her was so much better than this.

And, once again, the graduate student was reminded that this was largely of her doing. It was her fault that an obvious catch sat here pleading and doubting herself. She shouldn’t owe Seungyeon any answers — a no-strings-attached arrangement shouldn’t call for any of that — but Yongsun felt that answers were the least of what Seungyeon was owed. Their relationship shouldn’t have space for these emotionally trying conversations, yet here they were, a sign in and of itself of how off-the-rails they got.

Seungyeon’s final question was rhetorical, as most of her questions were, but it stirred something in Yongsun. If she was going to drag Seungyeon through this, she should at least own her decision to work towards something deeper with Byulyi. Releasing a deep breath, she hoped that Seungyeon would appreciate the truth even if it stung.

“She’s . . . her. I can’t explain it. Things are just . . . different with her. On paper, you and I would be good. We’d be perfect. That’s why I felt safe having what we had, because you made me feel safe and comfortable. And I can’t thank you enough for that. From the bottom of my heart,” Yongsun’s voice cracked. “But what Byulyi and I have, it doesn’t even make sense,” she chuckled humorlessly as it dawned on her that that was the first time Byulyi’s name had been spoken out loud over the past 1.5 hours. “It really doesn’t. I can’t explain it. Whatever more than perfect is, that’s how well she and I fit together. And there is so much work that we have to do to make a relationship a reality between us—there is a lot to be ironed out—but it’s gotten to the point where it wouldn’t make sense to try with anyone else. If we can make it work, whatever Byul and I have will be special. There’s also the chance that it may not work at all. A couple months from now, I might be completely heartbroken and devastated, but she and I are both slowly trying to get to a place where we can give things a real shot. And to do that . . . I can’t continue what I’ve been doing with you.”

The heartbeat thrumming in her ears continued several minutes after the conclusion of her sentence. If Seungyeon had spoken, Yongsun wouldn’t have heard a thing. Thankfully, if she could even say that, Seungyeon hadn’t uttered a word for several more minutes either. Both young women sat in the fog of silence that settled over them, their conversation having finally unearthed what had gone unspoken for far too long.

A deep huff from across the table slashed through the quiet.

“So this means we’re done, correct?” The voice asking was haggard. Saturated with exhaustion.

“The physical part, yes,” Yongsun reluctantly admitted. “I was hoping we could stay friends. Is that too much to ask?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. A large part of me wants to automatically say ‘yes’ to remaining friends, but if I’m honest with myself, I think time and space apart to think this through would be best.”

“This sounds like a breakup,” Yongsun thought out loud. Nothing about it was funny, but a few chuckles still slipped out.

“It feels like one, too,” Seungyeon agreed.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“I know.” It was still tired, but Seungyeon’s voice held more tenderness than Yongsun had heard all evening.

Twenty more minutes ticked by, solely because neither woman wanted an end to what would be their final moments together for the foreseeable future. When it grew impossible to prolong the inevitable any longer, Seungyeon took charge.

“How are you getting home?” She asked while cleaning up their table.

“The train.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I definitely do. It’s late. You walking around on your own at this time of night is not okay.” All Yongsun could do was nod. This was a level of graciousness she didn’t necessarily believe she deserved but she was grateful her path had, once again, crossed once more with Seungyeon’s.

The hope, which she knew was born from selfishness, was that this wasn’t the last time it did.

*

“Yongsun!”

“In the bathroom, Rongie!”

Within seconds, Chorong barged into the room.

“Have seen m–, oh wow! You look cute!”

“What do you mean by ‘oh wow’. You sound surprised or something,” the blonde scoffed as she finished applying her makeup.

“Calm down. I didn’t know you were going anywhere today, that’s all. Thought you’d still be too sad to do anything after the Seungyeon fallout.”

“Still not over it, but I need to put that aside for the moment. Finally got Byulyi to stop being a sourpuss by agreeing to take her to a virtual reality arcade,” she rolled her eyes.

It was something Moonbyul had been mentioning for months now, but Yongsun only finally relented the night before. The younger woman showed up after her basketball game and, even though she tried her best to still act frustrated, it was obvious she had forgiven Yongsun.

“You’re finally done being upset?”

“Who said I was upset?”

“I said you were upset. You only act the way you did when you’re angry about something,” Yongsun began poking Moonbyul’s face.

The senior showed no signs of being affected by the finger digging into her cheek. “Did something happen for me to be upset?”

“Oh my gosh! I hate when you do that ,” Yongsun whined and turned over in the bed, much to the basketball player’s delight, it seemed, because joyous laughter tinkled through the low-lit bedroom.

“Okay, fine. I was mad. Are you happy now?”

“No, I’m not. Why would it make me happy that you were angry? That’s the opposite of what I want for you.”

“And her texting you is the opposite of what I want for you.”

“Well . . . wish granted.” The feelings from her meeting with Seungyeon from the night before were still raw. Yongsun’s response came out more bitter than she intended.

“How so?”

“She only texted me to make sure we were still meeting on Thursday. We met yesterday and I ended things with her.” Why she ended things didn’t need to be vocalized. Moonbyul would know.

Lying on her side, Yongsun drank in the subsequent silence. Having a long heart-to-heart about Seungyeon was not what she needed right now. Moonbyul knew that, too.

Moments later, the younger woman snuggled up to Yongsun’s back and wrapped her right arm around the shorter woman’s waist. Burrowing her face into Yongsun’s neck, Byulyi let a kiss linger there. That was the closest she'd get tonight to acknowledging how difficult she knew the situation was for Yongsun. 

In true Moonbyul fashion, though, she couldn’t leave well enough alone. “You know what would make you feel better? if you did something to make up for the day we didn't talk.” It brought a smile to Yongsun’s face when the sharp elbow she jabbed into the athlete’s stomach elicited a loud groan.

“You’re so annoying.”

“How? I dealt with great hardship. Had to go a whole day without talking to you.”

“You chose to go one day without talking to me.”

“That’s not the point. Plus, today, we had our game.”

“Your team won. That’s a good thing.”

“But I didn’t get to play. Imagine how hard it was for me to have to watch my team from the bench and not talk to my gir–, to you. I’ve been suffering.”

The slip up didn’t go unnoticed, but Yongsun chose to let it go unaddressed.

“Ugh, what do you want?”

“Take me to the VR arcade I’ve been mentioning.”

“You’re so manipulative!”

“No, I’m great at picking and choosing my moments.”

“Annoying.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Whatever. Turn off the lights, I want to sleep.”

Byulyi did as she was told.

There was one thing, though, that Yongsun couldn’t leave ignored.

“Why did you sent me a text message with one letter? And the ing period at the end. I was ready to strangle you.” Byul’s boisterous laugh had Yongsun concerned that Chorong would storm in and beat them both.

“I knew it would piss you off. That’s why I did it. I wanted to annoy you.”

“You’re seriously so childish.”

“We all have our flaws.”

“A date.”

“We’re going to an arcade,” Yongsun clarified.

“Yes, a date. Is that where the two of you are now? You’re officially dating?”

“We’re officially friends-with-benefits.”

“You’re ting me,” Chorong doubled over with laughter. “Ignoring the obvious stupidity of that, there are no dates in a friends-with-benefits relationship. There is ing, maybe some pillow talk. But definitely no dates. Unless . . . the ing is so good that it makes you want to go on a date?” Chorong was intrigued. “I mean, it’s to be expected. You know all the stories I heard about her, and for all the some people would say, no one ever had a bad thing to say about her performance in the bedroom. It makes sense, I guess,” Yongsun’s roommate mused. She was in her own world now, talking to herself. So much so that she almost missed Yongsun’s response.

“We’re not fuc–, doing that. We’re not having .” That only further fanned her roommate’s amusement.

“Then what exactly are the benefits in this ‘friends-with-benefits’ relationship? The phrase in itself is just a nicer way of saying ‘ buddies’. If you’re not ing, you’re not FWBs.”

Thinking about it now, the term was a bit crass, not at all an accurate summation of what she and Byulyi had. They were more than that. It angered her slightly, actually, to hear someone else using the term to refer to her and Moonbyul’s relationship. The two of them understood what they meant when they agreed on the label “FWBs”. It was just . . . something to label this in-between period. They didn’t literally mean friends with benefits. And she tried explaining that to Chorong, who didn’t get it.

“Then call yourselves something else. Just say ‘it’s complicated’ when people inevitably ask if the two of you are dating. Because, well, you’re dating,” her roommate motioned with her hand to Yongsun’s current getup. “Literally.”

It’s complicated.

Yongsun recalled using that very phrase several times on Thursday with Seungyeon.

Every damn thing these days with her and Byulyi was becoming increasingly more of that: complicated. It was simultaneously the easiest and most challenging relationship she’d ever had, but with each day that passed, Yongsun realized that maybe that’s what made it worth all the heartache.

And there was plenty of heartache to come. She was sure of it.

Note: This one was challenging to write. You all know why 😔 A moment of silence.

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A joke. That’s not actually why it was difficult to write. Anyway, one comment got me thinking and I wanted to pose a question to you all: do y’all think Yongsun had real feelings for Seungyeon? I have my thoughts but am so curious about what you all think.

It's Wednesday for some of you; I'll try to get updates out on Tuesday for everyone (because EYE want to, not because I feel any pressure from any of you). There was something else I was supposed to say here but I forgot.

I hope you’re all safe and practicing patience with yourselves.

ETA: I write this story because it's a story I've had on my mind for a long time before ever writing a word of it. It is SO much fun knowing that there are others that enjoy it to. Of course, there are those that are not fans of this story—that is FINE. If you don't like the story, you don't have to read it. There's a reason I didn't make this "subscribers only", because having people subscribe was never the point. I just wanted to write a story. That's it.

To be clear, I have no issue with people that comment their frustration about the pace or people that comment about wanting moonsun to happen already or people that share they may not like how certain things happen. Plenty of people have left comments disagreeing with a lot that happens in this story. I love reading those comments! When I say "if you don't like the story, you don't have to read it" I mean people that don't comment, don't interact with this at all, and then post petty comments elsewhere. Why would you read through such a long story just to be petty about it? I am not forcing you to read this story, no one is forcing you to read this story. You can literally stop at any point. And to see fandom artists and other fanfic writers being petty along with them . . . none of this is that serious lol. Write your stories and I'll write mine. That's all there is to it. Maybe I'm being dramatic and oversensitive. But I've seen subs before and it really gets tired after a while. I'm also actively procrastinating doing real-life work right now so . . . yeah. The devil finds work for idle hands. My hands are way too idle right now.