heights (v): late night

“It’s funny,” was the first thing that Jiyeon said as she stepped into the entryway of Taeyeon’s apartment, “we’ve been sleeping together, for what? A year? And this is the first time I’ve ever been to your apartment. I wonder what that says about you?” she mused aloud, shrugging off her fur coat.

“Good evening to you too, Jiyeon.” Taeyeon smiled sarcastically, taking the coat and hanging it by the door. She knew she somewhat deserved the condescending tone Jiyeon was giving her.

“It’s nicer than I expected,” Jiyeon ped her heeled boots and slipped out of them, clunking them down unceremoniously to the floor. “You kind of, actually, have taste.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Taeyeon led her to the kitchen where dinner was simmering in a pot.

They ate quietly at the dining table that Taeyeon never used. A candle was flickering weakly between them.

“Any good?” Taeyeon asked, not because she was that insecure about her own cooking, but because the silence was shrouded over them too thickly.

Jiyeon nodded slowly, sliding her spoon from and back into the meaty broth. “It’s nice. I’ve had better, though.”

She knew not to take it personally. This was just how Jiyeon expressed her upset: passively but oh so aggressively. She wasn’t used to it, no, but she’d accept it. “If I was a chef, I’d be extremely offended.”

Jiyeon snorted a little. “Then, what if I said you’re a terrible singer?”

“I’d consider turning into a chef.”

Jiyeon smiled, really smiled, for, what Taeyeon thought, was the first time in a long time. Although, she didn’t tend to keep track of Jiyeon’s smiles, but, looking at it now, she thought that maybe she should start.

“I hate that I like your stupid sense of humor,” she muttered. “I just want to be mad at you.”

“Then be mad at me.”

Jiyeon’s spoon hit the porcelain of her bowl with a loud clatter. And suddenly she was angry. Taeyeon flinched slightly at the sound, slowly depositing her spoon back into her stew. She looked at Jiyeon and waited; waited for whatever it was that was about to come out of . The air tensed into something almost palpable.

“Why did you invite me over here?” Jiyeon’s voice was pleading as she held her head in her hands.

“You asked me to try,” she gestured at the dinner and the sad excuse for a candle, struggling so badly to keep alight. She shifted, uncomfortable at this sudden change in atmosphere. Where had it gone wrong? “So, I guess this is me trying.”

Jiyeon laughed abruptly, sardonically, and Taeyeon forced herself not to shrivel up in embarrassment. “So, you think inviting me over and making some poor attempt at a romantic dinner is going to fix everything? Huh?”

“No,” Taeyeon began hastily, “I just thought that it’d be nice, that you’d like it.”

“I do like it,” Jiyeon’s voice softened, “but…what happens next? We have dinner, you flirt with me a little, flatter me, and I’m stupid enough to go along with it. Then you take me to your bedroom and we and that’s it?”

Taeyeon swallowed, unable to see wherein the problem lied in the series of events that had just been proposed. “Well…what else do you want me to do?”

“You said you wanted me.” There were unshed tears glossing her round eyes. “But if you wanted me, you would’ve made me yours a long time ago. Right?”

Taeyeon sighed and leaned back in her seat. A headache was piecing itself together inside her skull. Tonight was only meant to get her back on Jiyeon’s good side with good food and good . Taeyeon didn’t know how to make good out of the awfully turbulent emotions Jiyeon was throwing at her. “Jiyeon…”

“I’m not wrong, though, am I?” She pursed her lips together tightly, her finger tracing the edge of the leather placemat. “Are you ever going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

Taeyeon spluttered slightly. “That’s-“ she stopped herself and got up, unable to sit any longer. “That’s not a question you just ask a person.”

“Well, I am. I’m asking you. Do you ever plan on making me your girlfriend?” Jiyeon looked up at her pointedly.

“That’s, uh,” Taeyeon rubbed at her forehead, gazing into Jiyeon’s face for a moment before it became too much. Her hand dropped to her side with a slap. She glanced around the wide expanse of her penthouse apartment. It was the first time Jiyeon had been here, but it suddenly felt very lonely. “Isn’t it a bit soon? Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, go on a couple of dates or something? I don’t know.”

“Soon?” Jiyeon got to her feet slowly. “Taeyeon, we’ve been doing this for a year. If that’s your idea of soon-“

“No, it’s-“ she broke off with a sigh. “It’s just, dating someone romantically is different than just ing.” She swallowed down thickly. “Right?”

“Obviously.”

“What I’m trying to say is that…” she rubbed at her eye with the heel of her palm. Her face felt hot and she didn’t want to be there anymore. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

Jiyeon breathed in and slowly sunk down back into her chair. Her face was sagging heavily with sadness, and Taeyeon wished she could wipe it away with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’m just tired, Taeyeon. Of all this.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly, unsure what else there was to say.

“The more I try and reach for you, the more you pull away from me.” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m beginning to wonder if I should stop trying.”

Taeyeon swallowed down thickly. “Do you want to leave?”

Jiyeon shook her head weakly, tears slowly tracking down her face. The sight of it made Taeyeon question what kind of person she was; to hurt someone, hurt them again and again, but still want them to stay despite it all. What kind of person does that? Taeyeon looked away, afraid of the answer.

Wiping her face, Jiyeon stood. She looked like heartache molded into a person – mascara smudged, cheeks flushed, lips parted. Taeyeon somehow found it quite beautiful.

“You look pretty when you cry,” she said.

“Is that why you treat me like ?” Jiyeon laughed humorlessly.

“I’m sorry.” Taeyeon said again, feeling as though she couldn’t say it enough.

“I know you are.” Jiyeon leaned over and plucked her glass of wine from the table. She downed it, her lips and poured herself another one, and gulped it down just the same. She wiped with a napkin before settling her weighty gaze back on Taeyeon again. She reached for her and, this time, Taeyeon made sure not to shrink away.

She followed the draw of Jiyeon’s alcohol-warm touch until their foreheads were pressed and Jiyeon’s breath was ghosting over her skin.

“What do you want?” Taeyeon whispered.

“Take me to your bedroom and me.” She leaned forward, catching Taeyeon’s bottom lip between her teeth and eliciting a pain that was nothing but pleasurable.

Tasting wine, tasting blood, Taeyeon took Jiyeon to her bedroom and did as told.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, Jiyeon was standing by the bed, slipping her underwear back on. The early morning light was spilling brightly through the haphazardly closed curtains, accentuating the dull headache that was pressing against the underside of her skull.

“You’re awake.” Jiyeon noted, adjusting her bra into place.

“I’m awake.” She squinted up at her. “You’re leaving?”

Jiyeon pulled her dress up over her shoulders. It was black, form fitting, spaghetti straps – the exact kind that Taeyeon loved seeing her in. “I’m leaving.” She leaned down and kissed Taeyeon perfunctorily on the mouth.

It felt like an out of body experience. Usually it was the other way around. Taeyeon was the one always up and leaving, pulling on her shirts and jeans and dresses, kissing Jiyeon fleetingly as she laid in bed and bare and disappointed.

She sat up, tugging the duvet to her chest self-consciously. “You sure you don’t want breakfast or anything?”

Jiyeon shook her head and did not spare her a glance. Taeyeon watched in silence as she opened her handbag and dropped her phone inside. “I’m good. Thanks.”

She began to get out of bed to look for some kind of clothing to put on. “Uh, okay then. I guess I’ll walk you-“

“It’s fine.” Jiyeon stopped her. She was already standing, dressed, at the bedroom door. “I can show myself out.”

Taeyeon only nodded, forcing herself to smile. ”Okay.”

Jiyeon simply looked at her for a moment. The sadness was no longer weighing on her face but rather, lying in the brown of her eyes – as if she had somehow internalized it during some point of the night when Taeyeon wasn’t looking.

“I really think you need to figure out what it is you want, Taeyeon.” Jiyeon said, her voice ringing out clearly into the stillness of the air. “You can’t keep stringing people along and bending them to your will because you can’t figure out how you feel...or whatever.” She was gripping onto the handle of her handbag tightly. Taeyeon could see the white of her knuckles.

“If you really wanted to leave and never talk to me again, I wouldn’t stop you, you know. I’d understand.” The words seemed to shake as they left . “I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it – but I’d understand.”

“I know.” Jiyeon said simply. “But for one reason or another I keep coming back to you. It’s stupid. But I can’t seem to stop myself.”

They stared at each other, one side of the room to the other, nothing but discarded clothes and an empty bed between them.

“I’m sorry.” Taeyeon said.

Jiyeon remained silent. She didn’t even say goodbye as she turned, opened the door, and left.

* * *

“Be honest with me,” Hyoyeon began, hands on her hips, sweat on her brow. The overhead lights in the dance studio seemed especially, overbearingly bright today.

Taeyeon blinked, coming out of her daze to look at her. “About what?”

“This choreography. Do you hate it?” She brushed some of her blonde hair behind her ear, looking at Taeyeon expectantly.

“Uh…” Taeyeon glanced over at the backup dancers who were packing up and slowly trickling out of the exit, chattering amongst themselves. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how else to word it, Tae.” Hyoyeon laughed. There was something manic in her usually calm demeanor. “What do you think of the choreography?”

Taeyeon wet her lips and swallowed down. In her career no one had ever really asked her what she thought of anything. They gave her the thing – be it song or choreography or script or job – and she simply did the thing. She did not interrogate the thing, she didn’t question the thing. “I mean…” She folded her arms over her chest reflexively. “…Its good. It’s…uh…its choreography.”

“Wow. How insightful. Thank you.” Hyoyeon chuckled before moving forward and picking up a water bottle from a pile of her things near the wall of mirrors. She unscrewed it and drank it down hungrily, and it reminded her of Jiyeon gulping down her wine by the dining table.

A weird tightness came over . She shook her head to get rid of it.

“Here,” Hyoyeon offered the open bottle to her which she took gratefully. “You got a schedule now or can you hang for a couple of minutes?”

“I can hang.” Taeyeon nodded, taking a swig from the bottle. They drifted toward the couch on the far side of the room before collapsing onto the squeaky leather.

“You did better today,” Hyoyeon said, lolling her head back to look at the ceiling. “But you were still a little off.”

“Yeah, I know.” She looked down and regarded the shiny wooden floor underneath her trainers.

“I thought maybe it was because you weren’t vibing with the dance itself that you haven’t seemed as in the zone as usual.” Her tone was thoughtful. She seemed to sink deeper into the sofa.

“No…I don’t think so.”

“Okay but…you know if you didn’t like the dance, you could tell me, right?” Hyoyeon lifted her head to look at her. “I know I’m the choreographer, but you’re the artist. It’s a collaboration.”

“Artist?” Taeyeon scoffed a little and fell back. “Don’t you mean idol?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“Sometimes, maybe.” She closed her eyes and the sight of Jiyeon standing in her messy bedroom came back to her. “I don’t know if I’m both, or one, or the other.”

“I think…” Hyoyeon breathed. “You’re one that wants to be the other. If that makes any sense.”

“Maybe I just want to be neither.” She groaned and Hyoyeon laughed again.

“Oh, Taeyeon…” she sighed, patting Taeyeon’s arm comfortingly. “Idols. Artists. People may categorize them as different, but you all want the same thing. To sing. To dance. To create.”

“Yeah…that’s true I guess.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting off another headache. She seemed to be getting them more frequently as of recent.

“Did you sort that stuff out with your boyfriend?” Hyoyeon asked after a beat of silence. She was leaning forward now, looking back at Taeyeon before hanging her head.

“Boyfriend?” Taeyeon frowned. “I don’t have a-“

“Remember we talked about it last time?” she took a languid sip of water. “He’s not your boyfriend but you said it’s complicated.”

“Oh,” the past conversation came back to her like freight train. “Yeah…him.” Jiyeon. It seemed that no matter what she did, her mind and now conversations always came back to her – always came back to Jiyeon, and Taeyeon’s inability to love her. “It’s still complicated.”

“What happened?”

“Well…” Taeyeon cleared , there was a heaviness pressing down on her chest. “I tried to make things better but I guess…I just ended up making things worse. He wants me to be his girlfriend and…uh…I guess I don’t really know what I want.”

Hyoyeon nodded and leaned back again until they were shoulder to shoulder. “You’re scared of committing to him?”

She pressed her lips together in thought. “I don’t know if its committing to him specifically or commitment in general.”

“If you’re not sure why do you keep seeing him?”

Now that was a question that needed answered. And there were many answers indeed, but all of them were things that Taeyeon was too embarrassed to admit out loud. Loneliness. Selfishness. Cowardice. Guilt. Embarrassing things. Horrible things. “I don’t know. Comfort, I guess.”

“The must be great.”

Taeyeon looked at her incredulously before they both broke out into laughter. “Wow, Hyo.”

“Well you’re not denying it. Good is what keeps everyone going back. It’s human.” Hyoyeon shrugged, her smile intact.

“I’m keeping my lips sealed on this one.” Taeyeon snorted a little.

“Oh, come on, Tae, don’t be such a prude.”

“I have to be.” She said reflexively, and it sobered her from the laughter. “The walls have ears in this place, Hyo, you know that.” The walls have ears and the walls have eyes, and no matter where Taeyeon went she’d never really be able to be herself.

Hyoyeon gave a somber nod and said no more on the matter, as if she understood the sad lilt in Taeyeon’s voice. “You’ll figure things out eventually.” She said after a moment as she got to her feet. She looked down at Taeyeon gently. “And if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be sure to supply you with totally irresponsible and unusable advice.” She ruffled Taeyeon’s hair affectionately, before sauntering away toward the mirrors.

Taeyeon watched in silence as Hyoyeon crouch