It was hardly difficult to notice that, on the show, Fu Jing and Xuanyi were basically inseparable. Fu Jing looked at Xuanyi with stars in her eyes, gravitated towards her like a magnet to a pole, reached for her, leaned on her, fell into step beside her as natural as breathing. Now that they’re actually in a group together, Xuanyi thought that things would be much the same, or maybe they’d be even closer, now that they’re not haunted by the fears of not making it, now that they belong in a group together.

They aren’t. Fu Jing barely acknowledges her presence. She never initiates conversation with Xuanyi. She never sits beside her. She never invites her out to eat. If they need partners for something, she’s grabbed Chaoyue or Zining before Xuanyi can even approach her. Sometimes Xuanyi feels like they’re not even in the same group.

Xuanyi usually doesn’t listen to what Netizens say, but she can’t miss all the fans who are speculating about the rift between FuXuan, the ones who are sad about their sinking ship and the ones who are saying that now that Fu Jing has achieved what she wanted, she’s discarded Xuanyi, her ticket to fame.

She doesn’t give any stock to those fans (she questions if they really are fans), but she can’t help but feel discarded in a way. Abandoned. Hurt.

 

One day, Xuanyi has had enough and corners Fu Jing after practice. She means to have a reasonable discussion with her, to lay out her points and questions in a calm, logical manner, but all calmness and logic go flying out the window when she meets Fu Jing’s impassive expression, like she has no idea what Xuanyi wants to talk about with her, like she has nothing to say to Xuanyi.

“What’s with you?” Xuanyi says, frustration seeping into her voice. “You won’t talk to me, you’ll barely look at me, unless the cameras are on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fu Jing says blankly, eyes somewhere on the wall to the left of Xuanyi.

“Was everything a sham? Our friendship, was it just a way for you to get votes?”

Fu Jing finally looks at her then, something momentarily flitting through the blank mask of her expression, gone before Xuanyi can identify it. “If you think so, then why are you still hanging around me?”

“I don’t think so. I know you’re not the type of person to do that. Or at least I thought I did. But these days, I’m not sure I know who you are.”

Fu Jing just keeps giving her that unreadable expression. “We have rehearsal now. We should be going.”

She starts walking before Xuanyi can even reply, gone around the corner by the time Xuanyi catches her thoughts.

Xuanyi could gnash her teeth, tug her hair, scream in frustration and confusion and – hurt. Yes, she’s hurt by Fu Jing treating her this way. And she finally realizes what the emotion in Fu Jing’s eyes was. The exact one that she’s torn up by.

She’s hurt Fu Jing with that. Good, a petty part of her thinks. Why should she be the only hurt one in this scenario? A more observant part of her is relieved. If Fu Jing was hurt, then surely it means that it’s not what she was doing, right? A guilty person would be defensive, wary, even hostile, not hurt.

If Fu Jing was hurt, then it means that not all is lost, right? It means that she still cares about Xuanyi’s opinion of her, right?

Right?

 

“Is something going on between you and Xiaofu?” Meiqi asks her one day.

“No,” Xuanyi says heavily. “Nothing is going on. That’s the problem.”

Meiqi gives her a questioning look, and rather than explaining it, Xuanyi merely pulls up a Weibo post asking what happened to FuXuan? accompanied by a gif set of them in proximity of each other, but never close, with a range of reactions in the comments.

“Ah,” Meiqi says quietly. “I’ve seen some of those too.”

“You have?”

“It’s pretty big news amongst our fans. You two – I mean FuXuan – were quite the ship.”

“Were,” Xuanyi repeats. “So I guess now people are convinced that Fu Jing was just using me, that there was never a real friendship between us.”

“I mean, that’s what people said during the show too. That she was just leeching off your popularity. If it’s true, it worked. She’s here now, isn’t she? And some of that, at least, is thanks to your shippers, not to mention your own fans voting for her instead of you.”

“Do you think she’d do that?”

Meiqi looks at her. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Xuanyi says forcefully. “She’s not that type of person, she’s…” She thinks of Fu Jing shouting at her to clean her room at a pitch that hurt her ears, Fu Jing racing for her as their names were announced for the same team, Fu Jing resting her head against Xuanyi’s shoulder like it was her only place of solace. That girl, the one whose cold resting expression cracked apart as soon as she saw Xuanyi, whose soulful singing voice turned into a playful whine – where is that girl?

“She’s Fu Jing,” Xuanyi finishes lamely. My Jingjing. The thought rises out of nowhere, strangely possessive. She doesn’t dare give voice to it. “Only she’s not being very…her these days.”

“For what matters, I don’t think it’s an act either. I can’t see Xiaofu being that good of an actress, to be honest.”

Xuanyi trains her eyes on the ground, unwilling to show the look in them. Even in front of Meiqi, it feels wrong, somehow, to betray such weakness.

“Xuanyi,” Meiqi sighs. “This is really upsetting you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.”

“I remember when you had that big fight with Xiao, before Dreams Come True era. You weren’t even so upset back then.”

“That was hardly the same. Xiao and I like are sisters, we can’t really maintain a fight, we’ll forgive each other and move on eventually. I don’t know if there’ll be an eventually here.”

“If you and I fought, would there be that eventually?”

“Of course. I can’t stay mad at you.” Xuanyi reaches out and pinches Meiqi’s cheek, eliciting a squeak from her. “And I know you can’t stay mad at me.”

“You’re so confident,” Meiqi says wryly, rubbing her cheek.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” Xuanyi smiles. “Then why is it different with Fu Jing?”

Her smile collapses. “What?”

“With me, with Xiao, I bet with Zixuan too, you’re so sure about being able to make up, to move on. You’re close with Fu Jing too. Why is it so different?”

Xuanyi opens , with a feeling like there’s an answer hovering on the back of her tongue, waiting to be unleashed, but she can’t quite find it.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “It’s just different. I can’t explain it but. It’s different.”

“Okay,” Meiqi says, with a furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to work out a riddle. Xuanyi feels the same way. If only she had the solution.

 

There isn’t much of a dilemma about who Xuanyi seeks out next. Not only does she know and care about Fu Jing as much as Xuanyi, she has a gift for making emotional conversations light-hearted and comfortable.

“…so that’s what’s happening. I don’t know what to do.” Xuanyi feels near tears by this point. “She won’t talk to me. She’ll barely look at me.”

Chaoyue looks at her with concern. “Is it that bad?”

“It’s that bad. I’ve been trying to think about what I did wrong, looking back on our conversations, checking our messages. I really can’t think of anything. Anything that would make her this upset.”

“I don’t think you did anything.”

“I must have.” She looks at Chaoyue desperately. “It’s either I did something, or.”

“Or she was just faking this whole thing to mooch off your popularity?” Chaoyue finishes. It unsettles Xuanyi how quickly everyone reaches at that conclusion, whether they agree with it or not. It shows that it’s in the back of their mind, ready to emerge and usurp more rational thoughts.

“Xuanyi, do you really think Fu Jing is capable of something like that? She adores you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are pretty adorable, but Fu Jing thinks the sun shines through your eyes and the stars twinkle in your smile and the moon – okay, I didn’t even go to enough school to describe this, but you know what I mean.”

Xuanyi finds her face oddly warm. “You make it sound like she’s in love with me,” she says with a weak laugh.

Chaoyue gives her a look. “Maybe she is,” she says, nothing joking about her tone.

“Chaoyue—”

“I mean, you’re my mom and she’s my dad, I hope your marriage started because of love.” Chaoyue is back to her typical playful tone. “Was it a shotgun marriage because of me?”

“Well, if it was, don’t repeat the mistake with Yihan,” Xuanyi says. “That girl is a lady and deserves to be treated as such.”

“Xuanyi,” Chaoyue whines, actually sounding like a mortified teenager, and Xuanyi laughs, chest finally feeling a little lighter.

 

Xuanyi is reduced to breaking down in tears, silent and solitary, in a far-off corner after practice. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s tried everything she could think of – she reflected on her words and actions, she asked friends for advice, she talked directly to Fu Jing. She has nothing left, no shortcuts to take, no meandering paths to explore, no avenues available.

A soft hand touches her hair and a familiar voice calls her name.

“Xuanyi.” Her voice is so gentle that it brings fresh tears to Xuanyi’s eyes. “Xiaoxuan, what’s wrong?”

She must be dreaming. It figures. Even her dreams are full of Fu Jing. Even there she isn’t free of her, but amazingly, Fu Jing is responding to her. More than that, she was the one who took initiative, who sought out Xuanyi, who is asking after her, sounding so concerned, so affectionate. That’s how Xuanyi knows she can’t be awake.

“You,” she tells dream Fu Jing without lifting her head. “You’re what’s wrong.”

“Xuanyi…” Fu Jing sounds pained. “I’m sorry. Hey, look at me. Please?”

She lifts her head, unable to deny such a gentle tone. Fu Jing is looking at her, concern etched all over her features, features that may seem sharp and cutting at first glance, but are capable of such soft expressions. That’s Fu Jing, a paradox, so strong and fierce outwardly but with such a fragile heart, one that she wore on her sleeve and that Xuanyi wanted to protect, wanted to keep safe, wanted to have. Wanted. Wants.

Oh.

“You make it sound like she’s in love with me.”

“Maybe she is.”

“I went too far, didn’t I,” Fu Jing says, almost to herself, and then trains her eyes on Xuanyi. “I’m so sorry. I hate seeing you cry, and I never thought it would be because of me. Please don’t cry, especially not over me.”

As she speaks, her own eyes are welling up, and she sniffs, blinking rapidly and in her lips in the way she does when she’s trying very hard to hold back tears. Xuanyi reaches for her, instinct overcoming everything else, instinct to comfort, to soothe, to protect. Fu Jing shouldn’t be crying. Fu Jing already cried too much on the show, and Xuanyi had promised silently to herself then that she would do all she could to ensure that any future tears would only be of joy, of victory, of pride. Her little lion cub should be laughing and cracking jokes and tussling with Chaoyue and proclaiming she’s a Casanova, not crying, not silent and solemn, cheeks hollow and eyes shadowed. Not her Jingjing.

“Jingjing,” Xuanyi says softly. “It’s okay. I’m not crying anymore. And that doesn’t mean you can start. You’ll make me cry again if you do.”

There are tear tracks down Fu Jing’s cheeks, and Xuanyi wants to wipe them away with her fingers, her lips. “This is so like you. You’re always pushing aside your own needs to take care of other people.”

“You’re not other people.”

“Then what am I?”

“Well, at first I thought you were someone who hated me.”

“Xuanyi.” Fu Jing gives her a look. “I could never hate you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“You can’t say that,” Xuanyi says, voice tight. There’s such absolute certainty in Fu Jing’s voice. People only talk about facts with such absolute certainty, not emotions; emotions are too precarious, too capricious, you can’t pin them down like that. “You never know. You could one day.”

“I mean, maybe if you turned out to be a serial killer and murdered everyone I love or something, but I can’t really see that happening. Can you?”

There’s a glimpse of the old Fu Jing, the playful, joking one, the one who fights to be on a team with Xuanyi but laughs the loudest when she loses at a game.

“Sorry,” Fu Jing says, with a contrite face. “Not really the time for jokes.”

“You know I didn’t mean it, right? I never thought that.”

“Never thought what?”

“That you used me. That you were trying to feed off my popularity.”

Fu Jing’s face is back to the blank mask Xuanyi hates. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know that’s not you.”

“You said you didn’t really know who I am, these days.” Her voice sounds undeniably bitter.

“Can you blame me for saying that? You wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t look at me. I thought I did something wrong, I thought I upset you, and I analyzed everything I said and did like a super paranoid person, I looked at all our past text conversations, I probably drove Meiqi crazy. I drove myself crazy, a little.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m sorry.” Fu Jing looks it, truly. “I didn’t mean to upset you like that. I didn’t think—”

“I’d be so crazy?”

“—that I mattered so much to you,” she finishes, in a quieter voice.

Now Xuanyi is the one to look at her like she’s crazy. “You didn’t think you mattered so much to me? Fu Jing, are you serious right now? Don’t you know how much you mean to me? I feel like-like you tore my heart out and stomped on it.”

She totally does not mean to say those last few words, she is not someone prone to dramatic declarations, but a part of her feels like there’s nothing overly dramatic about what she said. She really did feel like that. Fu Jing made her realize phrases like that may not be an exaggeration, that a person is really capable of feeling that way, that she’s capable of feeling that way.

Fu Jing has turned white. “I-I.” The mask is completely gone. She stares at Xuanyi with an expression that is at once contrite and surprised and anxious and— Longing. That’s the only way Xuanyi can describe it, really.

“Chaoyue said you’re in love with me.” Xuanyi hears the words come out of like someone else said them. “Is she—are you—”

“She has a big mouth,” Fu Jing mutters with a surly look, one that she gets often when it comes to Chaoyue, and it’s familiar enough of a sight to make Xuanyi smile. “But she’s not wrong.” She takes a deep breath, like she’s steeling herself.

“Do you know why I’ve been avoiding you? Because I’m so in love with you that it hurts. I can’t look at you without worrying you’ll see exactly how I feel. I can’t talk to you without thinking I’m going to blurt out something I’ll regret. I can’t spend time with you without wishing that we could be more than what we are.” She looks at Xuanyi, really looks at her rather than past her or through her. “I thought the distance would help. I thought I would get over you, at least a little.”

Xuanyi finds her voice. “Did you?”

Fu Jing gives a humourless smile. “No. Not at all. I think…this is it for me.” She says it like she’s been given a death sentence.

“Is it so terrible? Loving me?”

“Of course it’s not terrible, it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. But sometimes, it’s the worst I’ve ever felt too. It’s just—the most I’ve ever felt.”

“Me too.”

“What?”

“Me too,” Xuanyi repeats, louder and clearer, affirming it for herself as well as Fu Jing. “You make me feel the most I’ve ever felt. You make me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel, things I thought only existed in books and movies and songs.”

“Jingjing,” she sighs, taking a step closer to a frozen Fu Jing, and then another. “How could you not know that you’re not alone in these feelings?”

“W-what?”

“Then again, I didn’t even realize it myself. It took…all of this for me to realize. I guess in this case, I really was slow on the uptake.”

“Xuanyi,” Fu Jing says in a hushed voice, like she’s scared excessive volume would shatter this moment. “What are you saying?”

“Fu Jing,” Xuanyi says seriously. “I love you too.”

 

“I really am sorry,” Fu Jing says again, tracing a hand down Xuanyi’s cheek, even though her tears have long since dried. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t. Just don’t do that again.”

“I don’t think I could survive a second round. You don’t know how hard it is to stay away from you.”

“Yeah?” Xuanyi says playfully. “You’re like a planet that can’t get out of my orbit?”

Fu Jing snorts. “I think you’re a little too hung up on this astrological theme thing.” She reddens slightly. “But – yes. I am.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I can’t get out of yours either.” Xuanyi wraps a strand of Fu Jing’s hair around her finger. “I wish you just talked to me about this.”

“You may have noticed that talking is not my strong suit.”

“I mean, I was at least expecting you to tell me that the sun shines through my eyes and the stars twinkle in my smile and maybe something about the moon too.”

“What are you talking about?” Fu Jing says, looking at her like she’s crazy again.

“That’s how Chaoyue described how you think of me.”

“Wow.” Fu Jing blinks. “I think I’d be able to come up with way better metaphors than that.”

Xuanyi bursts into laughter. “You know what, let’s not put that to the test. Just repeating her words has given me goosebumps, and not in a good way.” She holds out her arm; she isn’t exaggerating, the skin of her forearm is covered in them. Fu Jing trails a hand down her arm, which doesn’t help. If anything, the action merely brings about a fresh round of goosebumps.

“How about these?” Fu Jing murmurs. “Are these in a good way?”

Xuanyi gives her a hooded glance. “I don’t know. Maybe you should check.”

Fu Jing doesn’t need more of an invitation than that as she brings to Xuanyi’s.

 

“I told you she didn’t hate you,” Chaoyue says in a smug tone.

Xuanyi fights the urge to sigh. “Yes, yes, you were right.”

“Fu Jing told me you even used my words about the sun and the stars. I should have copyrighted them.”

“You can ask Yamy for some tips about songwriting and write your own lyrics,” Fu Jing tells her. “In fact, why don’t you go do that right now and leave us alone?”

“What a way to show your gratefulness,” Chaoyue huffs, but she moves to head for the door. “I’m going to go before you start making out in front of me. You have months of unresolved to make up for, and I don’t want to witness it.”

“Yang Chaoyue!” Fu Jing’s voice reaches a pitch that hurts Xuanyi’s ears, and she almost instinctively reaches to cover them but she doesn’t. “Don’t come to me next time when you need relationship advice.”

“Why would I come to you? You can’t even get a girl without my help. You owe me a dinner for this. Hot pot or crawfish on you next time.” Chaoyue points at Fu Jing, gives Xuanyi a wave and then she’s gone.

“I swear, kids these days,” Fu Jing says, practically steaming at the ears.

“Honestly, sometimes I don’t know who’s supposed to be the older one between you two.”

“Hey, don’t insult me like that,” Fu Jing says with a pout that really doesn’t help her case. Xuanyi tells her as much, and her pout scrunches up into a scowl that’s far too cute to be remotely menacing. Xuanyi wants to plant a kiss on her nose, but before she can act on the urge, Fu Jing continues. “Seriously though, next time she talks to me about Yihan, I’ll tell her to stuff it.”

“She talks to you about Yihan?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” Fu Jing gives her a sidelong glance. “Are you jealous? You know, it’s normal for sons to come to their dads about this kind of stuff rather than their moms.”

“Ha ha. It’s not that. It’s just… Did you ever talk to her about—”

“You? No, I didn’t talk to anyone about that.” Fu Jing gives a wry smile. “It’s kind of hard to try to get over someone if they’re not just filling your thoughts but your conversations too.”

“Oh,” Xuanyi says quietly.

“It wasn’t just that. I mean, why I avoided you.” Fu Jing frowns in concentration, as if she’s working out what she wants to say. “I know there were a lot of people who thought that I was using you. I wanted to stay away from you to dissuade them.”

Xuanyi stares at her. “That makes no sense.”

“I was too obvious,” Fu Jing says. “Complete strangers who don’t even know us caught onto my feelings, and you didn’t. You’re usually way more perceptive than that, but I was grateful, in this case.”

Xuanyi flushes. “I wish you said something.”

Fu Jing’s mouth twists. “I was lucky enough to end up in a group with you. I didn’t think my luck would stretch that far.”

Xuanyi frowns. “It’s not luck – that you made it to Rocket Girls or—with us. You’re so special, special as an artist and as you. Why can’t you see that?”

“I’ll see it when you realize how special you are,” Fu Jing says. “You can’t say all of this to me when I know you think that your fans only like you because of your smile and your legs.”

“That’s not—” Xuanyi flushes again, for a different reason. “I don’t think that.”

“Sure,” Fu Jing says, clipped and unconvinced. “Xuanyi, I know you. You can fool the fans, you can fool the girls, you can even fool yourself, but you can’t fool me. And you shouldn’t feel like you have to. When are you going to let yourself just…feel? It’s not weak to do that, you know.”

“I, I—” Xuanyi’s throat has completely closed up on her. For the second time that day, she feels dangerously close to tears again. It’s not like her, to cry so much, especially not in front of other people, but like she had said, Fu Jing isn’t other people, is she?

“Xiaoxuan.” Fu Jing’s voice is so tender, and she opens her arms and then Xuanyi is in them and as thin as Fu Jing is her embrace is so strong and warm and protective, Xuanyi’s cheek fits so well against her shoulder and Fu Jing’s hand is in her hair, soft and grounding, and for once, Xuanyi lets herself go.

She must have cried, because her cheeks are wet afterwards, her eyes gritty, but then a gentle hand is wiping away the drying remnants of her tears, followed by the faintest press of lips, a breath so soft it brushes over her like a lullaby.

Xuanyi raises her head. Fu Jing is looking at her, and there are still stars in her eyes, but Xuanyi knows that this isn’t the starry-eyed admiration of a fan but the starlit faith of a friend, a confidante, a lover. Many people can only find one true one of those, but how lucky she is, to have found all three in one person. How lucky she is, to have Fu Jing.

Fu Jing suddenly chuckles. “You can’t say that I’m not lucky to have you and then say you’re lucky to have me.”

“Oh.” Xuanyi blinks. “I didn’t know I said that out loud.”

“Maybe you didn’t. Maybe I read your mind.”

“Oh yeah, then what am I thinking right now?”

Fu Jing scrunches up her nose. “Mind reading isn’t an on-demand thing, okay? It doesn’t work 24/7.”

“Okay, okay,” Xuanyi laughs. “How about we just agree that we’re lucky to have each other?”

Fu Jing puts on an expression like she’s contemplating it very deeply. “Okay,” she finally says. “That sounds all right, I guess.”

“Okay,” Xuanyi says, and gets her chance at last to kiss Fu Jing on the nose. And then on the lips.

---

A/N: I very rarely write in Xuanyi's POV, as I always find myself writing in Fu Jing's. I still find it hard to get inside Xuanyi's head, and I always feel like I'm writing her too OOC, that I'm writing her as too fragile or too strong or too feminine or too-- The list goes on and on. But with every fic, I feel more comfortable and confident and hopefully with practice one day her voice will come as easily to me as Fu Jing's does.