Four.

It’s a regular afternoon in daycare when you spot a newer face, another girl sitting in the corner of the room by the miniature mountain of plushies. She’s pretty, you realize without much effort, and the way that she holds tightly onto a stuffed dog urges you to run over.

You’ve mainly been playing with the boys back on the schoolyard since you are used to being with your brother, and so you aren’t used to talking with too many girls. But this one feels different; special, for whatever reason that you don’t feel the need to explore.

“Hi!” You greet, feeling a smile stretch onto your face when she meets your eyes. There is no reason in your mind that you shouldn’t immediately tell this girl that she looks like she’d be from a fairytale book – the ones with the cute pictures including princesses, much like the one in front of you. “You’re beautiful!”

The girl seems puzzled for a moment, looking away briefly before replying, “I’m Taiwanese.”

You tilt your head, but your confusion is pulled away quickly when one of the daycare aides squats down beside you and the girl.

The aide smiles. “Dahyun, this is Tzuyu. She’s from Taiwan and her family just moved here, so she’s still learning Korean words. Okay?”

You nod, glancing at the girl who squints a little as she attempts to follow what the aide is saying. A part of you wonders if Taiwan is as far as down the street or as far as that farm by your grandmother’s house, or if it’s somehow even farther, impossible as it sounds.

“Tzuyu,” the aide says, turning toward the girl and pointing a finger at you. “This is Dahyun. She said you are pretty.” The aide smiles and pats her hair, and the visual cue seems to help Tzuyu grasp the point.

“Thank you,” Tzuyu mumbles softly. Her cheeks are pink now.

You decide that it’s your favorite color.

≻≺

It doesn’t take too long for Tzuyu to warm up to you, given that you are the only one who goes up to her during daycare. She mostly lets you talk about random things and she’s a good listener, but sometimes she lights up like a star when she starts talking about her dog from home, Gucci. Dogs have always made you nervous, despite never understanding why, but Tzuyu loves them so infectiously that you ask for one when Christmas comes.

Your parents ask you, “But aren’t you afraid of dogs?”

And you lie, “Nope!”

There is still a pang of fear in you when you unwrap the predictable box with holes in it, but thankfully your parents get you a small Maltese puppy. He’s little and your hand when his tiny head pops out from beneath the lid, and you ask yourself why you were ever scared of something so carefree. You name him Ari.

Tzuyu’s face looks like it’s glowing when you bring a picture of Ari to school and, because of that, there is no doubt in your mind that Ari is the best gift you’ve ever received. She asks you to bring in more pictures when you can and to tell her everything that you do with him. She becomes more enthusiastic about sharing her photos of Gucci every day, and her eyes shine like new toys whenever she notes something similar between her dog and your own.

It’s a simple relationship. For an hour and a half every day after school, you get to talk about pets and cute things with another girl. But somehow, it’s still the best part of the day, as fleeting as it feels. You aren’t even sure what it is about her that is so enjoyable, but it doesn’t really matter.

And it continues like this for a long time, without you giving it any thought over the course of a year, until one day when Tzuyu is gone.

It isn’t until the aide tells you that Tzuyu’s family moved to another district that you start crying, unaware of why the world can be so cruel. You wonder if Tzuyu is crying too, or if she is happier in a daycare somewhere else. Did she even know that she would be moving? Is she scared, wherever she is now? Does she miss you?

In a world controlled by adults, it is scary to think that a friend can disappear so suddenly without any means of communication. No phone, no email; just no way of following what is suddenly a ghost of old smiles and shared dog photos. You can’t even write letters, because you never thought to ask for an address or a last name. She left, and you had no way of knowing.

But it’s okay, because now you have Ari and, in a way, he is a part of Tzuyu that stays. And maybe he can cure this sudden, unfamiliar feeling that you’ll one day call loneliness.
 

Six.

As always, you sit between your mother and brother on the pew. You quietly read along the passage of prayer within the worn book in your hands, following along as the priest seamlessly transitions between hymns and sermons. It’s no different than any other day at church, aside from the fact that today is the bake sale. And maybe – you begin to think as you meet the bashful eyes of a girl from a few rows away – that’s why you are so restless for the service to be over.

And then it is, and your father gently holds your hand as your family proceeds to the adjacent building of the church, with an open hall lined with tables of treats, pastries, and baked goods. Many of the faces are more or less familiar after years of attending church, but there is one that seems to escape you as your eyes search the room, though it can’t be helped that so many tall adults manage to block your view.

But luckily, an inevitable finger taps you on the shoulder.

“Hi,” says the familiar, soft-spoken voice. Your father turns to the sound as well, and he smiles as she greets him, “Hello, Mr. Kim.”

“Hello, Mina. Did you want to play with Dahyun?” You and Mina exchange a smile, and your father merely chuckles before letting go of your hand. He warns, “Don’t go far.”

You both bow before giggling and walking away to look at the other tables. A lot of the goods are either wrapped in quaint baskets or laid out in rows, the latter being how your family displayed the sticky rice cakes that you had all prepped the day before.

You’re curious. “What did your family make?”

“Dorayaki,” Mina answers. It doesn’t sound very familiar, so you can only assume it’s a Japanese thing.

Mina and her family had been attending the same church session as your own family for the last year, and a few small fundraiser events had given you the chance to meet and befriend her. She is very quiet for the most part, which you like because you rarely feel the need to talk just to have a good time – not that it isn’t wonderful when Mina speaks, of course. She reminds you of a faint memory, of a dimly lit spark that occasionally flares brightly on occasion, and its spectacular rarity is nice, you think.

It’s like a reward, you rationalize as you try and describe the feeling into naïve words. If you can get Mina to smile widely at any point in time, then you’ve surely done something right.

She also has a dog, you learned during one of the fundraisers, and his name is Ray. Sometimes the two of you talk about having a playdate for your pets, but Mina is too shy to ask, and you keep forgetting to bring it up to your parents. But you’re sure that one day you’ll remember, and therefore it is inevitable. It would be easier if you two were around one another outside of church, but Mina goes to a private primary school and her family seems strict from the little that you’ve seen of them, so it’s hard enough to bring up having a playdate between the two of you, let alone your dogs.

“How are you?” she asks quietly as you two eye some chocolate chip cookies.

You hum at first, answering without much thought, “Happy because I’m with you.”

There is a soft giggle from beside you, and you turn to see a familiar blush coloring her grinning cheeks. There is the faintest sensation of heat spreading across your face, but you smile widely at the sight of her, so much so that it reaches your eyes in the same way that hers do.

You aren’t really sure why you say, “Your smile looks like a song.”

But it makes her laugh in a way that shows off her pink gums, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve won something.

≻≺

One day, you learn that she takes ballet classes.

“I’ll be the piano,” you offer suddenly, staring up at the clouds as you think about what kinds of dances Mina must do. “Ballerinas need music, right?”

Her voice is soft but steady from beside you. “I would like that.”

It's another day at church a few months down the line in the summertime, and there is a very small community fair taking place in the large parking lot. You aren’t too interested aside from the possibility of cotton candy, so it didn’t take you long to find Mina sprawled out on the grass by one of the spruce trees. Both of your families are nearby to keep an eye, but you don’t feel too worried when you’re next to her.

“We could make a good team,” you say, chuckling. “I can only play a few songs right now, but I’ll get better at the piano for you.”

“That makes me happy. I’ll dance my best for you then.”

You nod. It seems like very simple math to you, after all. The world often feels so large and intimidating, but it’s in these smaller instances that things appear clear for once. Two little girls in a big world, one with melody and one with movement; for a quick and quiet moment, it’s like the world makes sense with minimal effort.

And it excites you – this idea that maybe, for a moment, you know exactly what you want. Maybe you don’t understand money or know how to drive or really have a job, but those can just be afterthoughts. What’s important is the now, and right now you feel a great epiphany strike you; it makes perfect sense in your six-year-old mind. The two of you can work well together. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?

You sit up, grinning and happily saying in a voice that’s louder than intended, “Let’s get married, then!”

“Okay.” Mina giggles, sitting up. You grab her hands, spotting her reddening cheeks as she says in a shy bravado, “I’ll marry you.”

Maybe one day this will feel like an embarrassing memory. But you don’t know that – at least, not yet – because when you look at this girl, you see something beautiful, and there is nothing weird about that to you.

You giggle along with her until Mina’s mother comes and pulls her away from you. Ms. Myoui’s face is red but she doesn’t spare you another glance before pulling Mina along with her toward your own parents. There is something about the situation that tells you not to follow, and you can only watch with confusion as your family bears the weight of Ms. Myoui’s shouting. You aren’t entirely sure what is being said from where you are, but there’s something scary in the way that Mina’s wide, confused eyes transition into something sadder, until tears begin to fall, and Mina is suddenly being dragged away from the fair. Her eyes meet yours one last time, wide and distraught as she hiccups in her mother’s white-knuckled grasp.

There is a part of you that ponders what is worse: to learn that someone has spontaneously disappeared from your life, or to watch them be ripped away from it.

You look to your parents then, and the look they give you is something you’re not used to. But they both sigh and walk over to collect you again as they continue throughout the church’s festivities. The sweetness of the cotton candy they inevitably buy you dissolves into something saltier, but you aren’t sure if that’s just the taste of your own tears or if cotton candy was ever really that great to begin with.

It’s incredibly sad and easy to notice when Mina and her family stop coming to church at the same time slot that you do. On occasion during other church events, Mina’s parents will come, but not her — not anymore. Perhaps the world isn’t made for two little girls.

You don’t understand why it happened, and no one ever explains it to you. But you learn that maybe parents don’t like when two girls talk about music and marriage. There’s a part of you that wonders if the last girl that left had to go because she made you too happy.

You can’t be sure, but you want to avoid trouble from now on. It doesn’t seem to be worth it if it means that nice kids have to be taken away from you.

Your parents are suddenly interested in keeping you busy as the days go by. They get you more tutors, more piano lessons, and they get you involved in many of the church’s performances. You barely have time to play anymore, but you can’t help but smile at least a little when you come home with better grades or new songs to show your family. And maybe that’s okay or enough, sometimes. But most days, you feel as though there’s little energy left in your little body, and it’s hard to get excited about things. Things that once tasted good begin to taste bland.

You notice, however, that when you find yourself learning new chords on the piano during lessons, you can’t help but to push yourself more than usual. You like to imagine a girl practicing on a stage, gracefully jumping through the air as she thinks of you and an unspoken promise. For her, you think.

If you just keep getting better at the piano, then there’s no doubt in you that you will see her again very soon.

But you don’t, and that indescribable feeling that lingers within you channels itself into a new love for music instead.
 

Fifteen.

Chaeyoung is your best friend of six years – a feat that only occurred because she wouldn’t leave you alone on the playground when you were little – and she always has your best interests in mind.

So you aren’t shocked when she runs up to your locker and has a familiar glint in her eye that practically screams reckless abandon.

“Alright, what is it?” you ask with a chuckle, putting away books that you won’t be needing for the weekend.

Her smile widens, a snaggletooth grin that has roped you into shenanigans time and time again. It’s really cute, and you already feel a sigh threatening its way out of your body when she giggles before managing to even open .

“Guess who said we could tag along with her to that party this weekend?”

You blink. “Who the hell would invite us? We’re first-years.”

Chaeyoung chuckles at your reaction. “Well, as you know, Momo is my neighbor and an upperclassman, so…”

“Why would she invite us?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “She just asked me if we were going when I left the house yesterday to get groceries. When I told her that we hadn’t been invited, she basically said, ‘well now you are’ and voilà!”

“Sounds fake.” You raise an eyebrow at her, closing your locker and leaning your back against it.

“It’s not!” Chaeyoung shakes her head. “I told you that Momo wants to meet you since you’re my friend! She’s really nice. I wouldn’t be surprised if she just offered it as a chance to get to hang with us.”

“I don’t get that, though. At least you’re her neighbor that she sees outside of school. She doesn’t know me, so why feel the desire to meet me?”

Chaeyoung grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she pulls you both into a walk. “Because by association as my best friend, that automatically makes you the coolest person. Being my best buddy means you must be the best person I know. And who wouldn’t want to meet you?”

You smile, unable to meet her gaze because of how bashful you feel at the compliment. She always does this, this thing where Chaeyoung manages to hype you up without ever feeling like she’s forcing it – like she means it. It’s hard to refute when she’s been standing up for you and spontaneously complimenting you for years, and you figure that no one would really go to all that length if they didn’t like you as a person. And, although the notion of destiny makes you nervous, there really is a deeper part of you that truly feels as though Chaeyoung has already sculpted herself as a permanent piece in your life.

She means so much to you.

“I love when you get shy.” Chaeyoung’s grin is wide again, her nose practically scrunching in delight. “I think the guys are going to think that’s cute.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Guys?”

“It’s not like I’m actively searching for something right now, but we might end up meeting someone at this party! Anything can happen for either of us. But let’s keep an eye on each other though, okay? If the movies are any indication, I don’t want anything bad or weird happening to one of us.”

“You’re doing a great job of convincing me to go,” you mumble with a snort.

She laughs. “Well, you know that I’ve decided to try and embrace the wild nature of youth or whatever. My art teacher says that these are our formative years, you know? Can’t be afraid to get young and wild.”

You chuckle to yourself, ignoring her questioning gaze. There’s clearly a difference between being afraid to climb a tree for the first time (which ended up in a broken nose, by the way) and going to a potentially drug or alcohol-heavy teenage party for the first time. But to Chaeyoung, of course, there’s no distinction. In her mind, fear is merely a still key in the ignition of adventure, and she always wants to turn it if it can be the start of a fun ride.

She nudges you from your thoughts. “It’s fine, isn’t it? We’ll have each other, plus an upperclassman! But if you don’t want to go, then we won’t go.” You feel your resolve weaken when she smiles sincerely and adds, “It won’t be worth it without you, so just tell me and we’ll do our own thing. Where you are is where I want to be.”

You know that she means it. You know that she won’t be interested if you say that you aren’t.

But alas, maybe you want to be brave. “We can go. Tomorrow night, right? I think I’m free.”

“Yep!” Her grin is worth it, you think. “Momo said that her older sister recently got her license, so we can get a ride if you wanted to drink or something.”

“Were you planning on it?”

Chaeyoung shrugs. “Not sure. But better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“Agreed,” you respond with a nod. You both exit the building, soon basking in the sunlight of a clear day, and you head over to the usual patch of grass that Chaeyoung likes to sit by after school. Unfortunately, you can only stay for half an hour because of your afterschool tutoring, but she likes to stay for a while and draw.

You realize something as you drop your schoolbag onto the ground. “You never talk about any guys, Chaeng.”

“Isn’t that just our thing?” Chaeyoung glances up at you as she sits and takes out her sketchpad. “You’ve never talked about anyone before, so I just thought that you weren’t really interested in talking about romantic stuff – which is completely fine by me.”

“Are you?” You plop down onto the grass and lean back on your arms. “Interested in talking about romantic stuff, I mean?”

Chaeyoung chuckles. “It’s not really on my mind, but I’m not against it. I’ve never kissed anyone or anything, so it’s not like I’ve got exciting news.”

“Same.” It’s not that you’re embarrassed to admit it, but something about the overall topic makes you feel shy. It never really occurred to you until now that you’ve never had a crush on a guy. You’ve always been so busy with lessons or keeping up in school that you never stopped to think about romance or anything like that. As it is, you barely get to see movies unless it’s with Chaeyoung on the weekend, let alone romantic ones.

“It’s alright, it’s not like it’s a big deal,” Chaeyoung says with a shrug as she focuses on a flower. “But hey, if there’s anyone cool at the party and something happens, then why not?”

“Are you thinking about a boyfriend or a hookup?” There’s something about the word “hookup” that leaves you feeling guilty, but it doesn’t seem to bother Chaeyoung in the slightest.

She taps her chin with her pencil. “I guess it depends on what happens, if anything. I’m not thinking too hard about it, honestly. I’ll be with you and Momo for the most part, I hope.”

Me too, you think. “I think I’d just feel self-conscious about not knowing how to kiss someone.”

Chaeyoung giggles. “I’d assume that’s normal.”

“Is that something you worry about?”

“Not really. Kissing isn’t really a big deal to me.”

You hum in response, nodding slightly as you watch her sketch a dandelion. The topic fades away as she gets lost in her drawing, occasionally smiling up at you as she asks a question about your day. It’s nice for a short half hour, but it isn’t long before you have to pick up your things and say goodbye.

You’ll see her tomorrow, and the party will probably be fine as long as you have one another, just like Chaeyoung said.

≻≺

“You’re looking great.” Chaeyoung grins down at you as she does your makeup, her body wedged between your legs as you sit on the corner edge of the bed. She waggles her brow at you. “After I get this blush and lipstick on you, I think you’ll definitely attract some attention tonight.”

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t anxious while thinking about it last night. “Chae, I don’t… I’ve never done that sort of thing before.” A sigh escapes your lips as Chaeyoung applies blush, forcing you to smile in a way that doesn’t match your tone. “I don’t want to feel embarrassed about not knowing how to… you know.”

Chaeyoung pauses to look at you with an eyebrow raised. “I mean, I’ve never done it either. I think it’d be pretty stupid if someone expects you to be a master of lips at a house party.”

You giggle. “That’s true. I’m not expecting anyone there to be some sort of sensual professional.”

Chaeyoung snickers at your word choice. “See? Plus, maybe nothing will happen tonight. I wouldn’t let some low-standard dude whisk you away, either. You and I are top tier. We deserve some pristine smooches, you know?”

“Damn right,” you agree as your giggles fade. “Guess I’ll just worry it’ll happen for the first time and I’ll freeze up. It’s crazy how I’ve never thought much about this sort of thing until yesterday.”

“So I was right? You’re not interested in talking about that sort of thing?”

You tilt your head, eyes moving past Chaeyoung to glance at a random drawing on her wall. “I don’t even think it’s that. It’s probably because I’m so busy, right? Maybe I’ve never had time to think about it. It’s totally new.”

“Oh no.” Chaeyoung furrows her brow. “Does this mean you’re going to start overthinking about this now? You know that I worry when you get like that.”

“It started last night, actually.” You almost chuckle, but there’s a very real anxiety deep within you. Maybe you shouldn’t go to this party, though the thought feels dumb when Hirai Momo is waiting downstairs with her sister and Chaeyoung has gone through all the trouble of doing makeup on both of you.

“Damn.” Chaeyoung shakes her head, scratching her own neck in thought for a long moment. “How about instead of worrying about this first kiss stuff, we just get it over with now and this way you won’t freak out about what it means if someone kisses you at the party?”

Your eyes snap back to Chaeyoung instantly. “Wh-What?”

Chaeyoung chuckles at your flustered expression. “I don’t know, would that ease your worries about it? I already told you that a first kiss isn’t a big deal to me, so if it would make you more comfortable for it to be me than some sloppy dude, then I don’t mind.” There’s a sincere sheen of sympathy in her eyes as she gazes down at you, meeting your eyes fondly and protectively. She looks extra pretty all of a sudden.

The ball in your throat is gulped down. “Chaeng… we’re girls.”

“Okay.” Chaeyoung raises an amused eyebrow. “And? Did you suddenly become a homophobe?”

“N-No! Oh my god, no… but you know, I just – what’s the point if I’m… straight?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It’s just an offer in case it might help. If you’re not comfortable, that’s fine too. It’s just a kiss, Dahyun, relax.” You feel yourself sighing into her palm as she pats your face softly with the inside of her hand, chuckling quietly at your nervousness. She is being way too casual about this, and a part of you hates it just as much as you appreciate it.

It's just a kiss, you repeat to yourself in your head. Chaeyoung is being a good friend like always, so there is no decent reason why your heart is hammering against your ribcage as much as it is. Maybe being so preoccupied from being busy has made this much more intimidating than it ought to be; that it’s a big deal and that the world could end if you end up having your first kiss at a party with someone who clearly knows what they’re doing by comparison. . I don’t want that.

Chaeyoung seems to have taken your silent thinking as an answer, her hand returning to the lipstick in her makeup bag in order to apply it onto you.

“Wait,” you say as you gently move her wrist away. “Maybe it’ll help.”

“Okay.” Chaeyoung nods, putting the lipstick down and taking a seat beside you on the bed. “You want, like, a peck, or do you want to do a couple of seconds? I haven’t done this sort of thing either, so…”

You’re desperately fighting the urge to blush. “I don’t know what I want. Maybe I just want it to be done.”

She laughs, and your shoulders relax. “You’re winning me over with that charm.”

“Just… I’m nervous. I’ve seriously given this zero thought until yesterday. Can you start it?”

Chaeyoung nods again. “Sure. Close your eyes. I’ll hold your face or something.”

“Alright,” you say softly, shutting your eyes and feeling goosebumps travel along the back of your neck as Chaeyoung’s hands cup both sides of your face. There’s a long pause that makes your palms feel sweaty, and you furrow your brow when nothing happens. “Chae?”

“Butts.”

“What?” you ask with a snort, giggling for a moment just as something meets your mouth. A wave of heat flushes across your face as you register the feeling of Chaeyoung’s lips, soft with a strawberry gloss. Your chest thunders as Chaeyoung’s lips move briefly against yours, and you attempt to do the same. There is nowhere that your hands are brave enough to go, so you keep them against the sheets, gripping softly as a way to ground yourself. You’re unsure if you’re really doing anything effective, but you don’t really care. It’s a completely new sensation, with butterflies fluttering all over your stomach, and you’re a little fearful of how much you like it.

Lips smack for a second just as Chaeyoung pulls away, and you open your eyes with what is undoubtedly a blush adorning your features. She’s smiling at you, and something about her seems different suddenly, but you can’t quite place it. But she looks so gorgeous.

You gulp as you realize that you want her to do it again.

“Less nervous?” Chaeyoung asks, patting your knee.

You lie, “Absolutely.”

Chaeyoung seems happy with that, and there’s a lump of guilt eating at you. “Awesome! That wasn’t so scary, right?”

“Not at all.” Another lie. It’s scary how addicting it is, as short of a moment as it may have been.

“Cool.” Chaeyoung gets up and squeezes herself between your legs again on the corner in order to apply the lipstick onto you. The position somehow feels a lot different than it did only moments ago, and there’s a heavy feeling in your stomach.

“What color are you putting?” You’re desperate for anything to distract your thoughts.

“It’s a darkish purple. It looks great!” She looks satisfied with herself, grinning widely as she gestures for you to rub your lips together by mimicking the action herself. You look away, not wanting to watch her lips as you mix the lipstick. She hums as she zips up her makeup bag before saying, “We should go, and quick. Momo and Hana have been waiting long enough.”

The two of you make your way downstairs, though you can’t help but feel like you’re in a daze. You barely register the greetings and introductions that you exchange with the Hirai sisters, but you go into autopilot and make sure to push yourself to return their enthusiasm. And then you’re suddenly in the car, staring out a window as you recall the way your lips had felt against your best friend’s.

My best friend, you repeat to yourself in your head, hyperaware of Chaeyoung’s bare leg against yours since you’re both wearing skirts. She and Momo, who is sitting on the opposite side of Chaeyoung, are engrossed in a conversation that you don’t really pay attention to, and you hate the way that your brain tries to cling onto Chaeyoung’s voice like it’s the only thing in the car that matters. Most days, it normally would be, but this doesn’t feel like the same thing.

It isn’t long before you’re all at the party. Hana tells Momo to text her once all of you are ready to leave, and suddenly you’re inside. You barely remember the transition from the car to the house, and there’s a part of you that thinks drinking would somehow trigger permanent amnesia at this point with how muddled your brain feels. But you grab a beer and clink the bottle against Chaeyoung’s and Momo’s anyway, and you down the awfully cheap drink in the desperate hope of having your thoughts drown in the flood.

“Want to dance?” Chaeyoung asks with a smile after an hour into the party, gently grabbing your wrist. You’ve had two beers by now, which feels like more than enough. The heat the creeps onto your face is simply from the alcohol, or so you try to convince yourself.

You stare down at her hand before meeting her eyes again. They’re sparkling, somehow, in the poor lighting of this random second-year’s house, and her dimples invite you into something that makes your heart feel like it’s swirling. Why is it so different right now? What’s wrong with me?

“I’m okay,” you say with a reassuring nod as you gesture for her to go dance. “I might be too dizzy for it.”

She frowns, and you do the same. “Are you not feeling well? We can go home, Dahyun.”

“God, no.” You shake your head. “Relax. I just don’t think my coordination is going to be on my side right now. Go have fun. You wanted to live a little, right?”

You offer her a reassuring smile, but she seems skeptical. “Dahyun, if you’re not –”

Momo cuts in, “I’ll keep an eye on her. We’ll just sit for a bit.”

You blink, turning to Momo. You’ve been so lost in your thoughts over Chaeyoung that you feel like you’ve barely paid Momo any attention. It’s almost as though she’s only coming into view now, her existence finally settling itself into your world as if you are truly registering her presence for the first time. Her smile is nice, and it oozes reassurance, which seems to work easily on Chaeyoung.

“Okay.” She sighs. “I’m going to have one last drink and try to make another upperclassmen friend or two,” she says with a scrunched nose and a giggle before walking off.

Momo is kind enough to lead the two of you to a nearby couch that stays within view of Chaeyoung, its seats miraculously vacant as you plop onto the soft cushion and sink into it.

A few minutes of watching Chaeyoung pass before Momo finally speaks up, “You seem distracted.”

“Oh?” You blush, turning your gaze to the older girl right away. “M-Must be the alcohol.”

She furrows her brow. “You’ve been out of it since before the party. Chaeyoung is worried too, you know. She mentioned it to me right in front of you in the car and you clearly didn’t hear it.”

, you think with a groan. Now Chaeyoung is going to think something is wrong. “I’m sorry. It’s been a complicated day.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Momo asks, a gentle hand pulling at your wrist with the lightest tug.

You look down at her hand before making eye contact again. She has big, sweet eyes; they’re the kind you find yourself falling into and trusting when the siren call of alcohol vibrates like a hum through the back of your head.  

Your voice is quiet after a small sigh. “You don’t know me, Momo. I’ve been rude to you all night.”

“Rude?”

“Chaeyoung said you wanted to have a chance to hang out with us, which included meeting me. I’m making an awful first impression; I’ve been ignoring you almost all night.”

She chuckles, much to your shock. “I think ‘ignoring’ would imply that you’ve been hearing me in the first place. I feel like you’ve barely been conscious the whole time.”

You glance over to Chaeyoung, who has started dancing with some boy. “Why hasn’t she said anything if she picked up on it?”

“Maybe she’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Momo shrugs. “I think we were both hoping that you’d loosen up. She said that you’d probably insist nothing was wrong since it’s supposed to be a ‘fun’ day or something like that.”

Even you can’t resist the laugh that bubbles out of you. “And you both had this conversation right next to me at some point? Holy , I’m ed, wow. She’s right, though.”

Momo giggles, nudging your arm playfully. “Now you sound a lot looser.” She scoots a little closer, enough that whispers can easily be exchanged. “Do you want to talk about it, though? You don’t have to, but the offer is there.”

The “it” is precisely what makes it hard. It goes beyond kissing your best friend, because it was for your own sake and it was definitely platonic. Maybe for two regular girls, that would be fine, and things would have fallen into place for the rest of the night as they were meant to – dancing to bad music with a guy, chugging some cans of alcohol that are definitely not good, giggling through gossip amidst some casual mingling, and whatever else. But somewhere along the way, something deep inside of you clicked. Something that has been hiding away, buried by busy work and shrouded by an unspoken fear that became subconsciously instilled within you at the age of six.

And, suddenly, as you watch this random guy press his lips against your best friend, you no longer feel like a regular girl.

“Dahyun?” Momo’s concerned voice barely reaches you as she wraps her arms around you. “Why are you crying?” Her voice is hushed, and you’re grateful that she isn’t trying to garner more attention than necessary. You try and focus on her perfume. It’s both earthy and sweet somehow, and you breathe it in deeply against the fabric of her shirt as you desperately grip at the sides, undoubtedly staining her outfit with slow tears. You’re grateful for the of her hand along your back while the other holds your face against her chest.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that made it so easy to crumble. You feel waves of embarrassment and shame overwhelm you, and your shoulders shake with the weight of a guilt that rests itself upon your being. It’s hopeless to even pretend that the nausea settling in the lowest part of your throat has anything to do with the alcohol and not with the inexplicable discomfort you feel with yourself; with the way that Chaeyoung’s giggles ring through your ear even when she’s not even that close to the couch.

“M-Momo?”

“I’m here.”

You sniffle, pausing for a beat. “What do I do when I’m a girl and I like another girl?”

It scares you for a moment when Momo says nothing at first, and you briefly regret being vulnerable to an almost-stranger. But then you feel her chuckle softly against your head before pressing her cheek against the side of it. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Dahyun.”

Somehow in the comforting tightness of her grasp, you manage to look up at her with wet eyes. “Even if it’s my best friend?”

Momo’s eyes soften as she holds your gaze. “It’ll be okay. It’s not wrong to like someone.”

You let out a shaky breath as you glance over toward Chaeyoung again. Her dimples highlight the smile on her face until she looks over toward the couch and meets the sight of you in Momo’s arms. Her expression contorts with concern and she looks as though she is about to walk over, but you find it in you to smile and shake your head, shooting her a thumbs up.

But she obviously knows better. Without hesitation, she walks away from the boy she was with, without a word, and heads toward you and Momo. She squats in front of the couch and puts a hand on your knee as Momo unwraps her arms just enough so that you can turn fully toward Chaeyoung.

“Why don’t we all dance together?” It’s an offer that she shares with a soft, concerned smile. “You said no before but I don’t want to dance with that guy anymore and, clearly, my best friend needs me.”

You frown. “Chaeyoung, it’s fi—”

“It’s a great idea.” Momo gets up and pulls you off the couch in one swift movement, almost causing you to crash into Chaeyoung just before she’s able to stand back up. “I’d like to dance. Dahyun’s boring me anyway.” The latter part is delivered with a smirk, distracting you briefly.

You whine. “Hey, I can’t help that this isn’t my scene.”

“It is, so long as you’re in it.” Chaeyoung chuckles, pulling you and Momo toward the center of the living space where other teenagers have gathered. It’s not a lot of room, so you admittedly feel a little shy about dancing so close together.

You mostly stick to swaying your hips. There have been times where you and Chaeyoung have danced bombastically when in private, but it’s a little cramped here and you’re not exactly feeling up to it at the moment. But Chaeyoung and Momo seem very into it, and you blush every time they practically grind a little too close to your body.

“Hey.” Chaeyoung’s voice is soft yet somehow audible over the music as she pauses to gently wipe away a stray tear that never managed to escape until now. She cups your face and looks into your eyes with a fondness that makes your heart skip a beat, and you hope that she can only guess that the heat spreading across your cheeks has more to do with the alcohol than anything else – a lie you’ve been telling yourself all night.

“Yo,” you reply, awkwardly.

She rolls her eyes, but her smile remains. “I just want to say thank you for coming tonight. I know you probably only said yes for me, and I can tell that you don’t want to be here.” You open your mouth to say something, but she presses a thumb over your lips, promptly shutting you up. “I’m so grateful to have you in my life, but don’t always put me first. Your happiness matters just as much to me. I’m really proud of you for being brave enough to come out tonight, but the second you start feeling bad, I want you to come to me and tell me. I love you, Dubu.” Her eyes soften as you feel your eyes watering again. “We’re forever, you know?”

You think of your comforts, like Ari and the piano. You think of buried memories, of girls who have disappeared from the world around you, completely out of your control. You think of fear, of adults who tear young girls away and who keep you busy in order to distract from self-discovery. You think of Chaeyoung, and how, for just once in your life, you want to have enough control so that you can prevent history from repeating itself. And you think of Momo, and how she told you that it would be okay.

You’ll do everything in your power to make sure that it will be.

“I love you too, Chaeng.” You return her strawberry pink smile. “Forever.”

You’ll move on.
 

Sixteen.

Dealing with feelings that are not only foreign, but complicated, hadn’t been your greatest strength. There were way too many nights crying in bed, overthinking every little interaction between you and Chaeyoung as you snuggled Ari close to your chest. And that doesn’t even cover the nights where you felt like a shameful personification of sin or the nights where you fought with yourself over the idea that you should isolate yourself from Chaeyoung, because it felt wrong to “do this” to your best friend. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that, and sometimes it hurt more to feel so weak.

But time moves on, even when it feels like everything around you has stopped. And, despite being such a slow crawl, it doesn’t take as long as you expect to move forward.

It’s been over a year since you realized that you’re attracted to women, but you still aren’t sure how to navigate it. After a few months of crying over, processing, and getting past your feelings for Chaeyoung, you decided to come out to her (without admitting that you had liked her in the first place). As expected, she was – and continues to be – very supportive.

You still see Momo sometimes in the hallway; she remains the only other soul to know about your secret. It’s weird to know that someone you rarely get to talk to knows something so intimate about you. But she smiles when she sees you sometimes, and you know she is worth trusting.

Somewhere along your effort to move on from your best friend, you began to look differently at the girls around school. It’s weird how they never seemed to take shape before, as though you had never stopped to look at the female student body properly – almost as though you had been avoiding close contact with them without realizing. It’s still hard, though. Chaeyoung says that it may be due to some internalized coping mechanism from growing up, but you try not to humor the idea too much. The last thing you need is the worry that something is wrong with you when you already feel so detached from the daunting “L” word.

These things just take time to come to terms with, right? It just takes a leap of faith.

And so Im Nayeon may or may not be the reason that you joined student council during your second year of high school.

She is the student council’s vice president, and easily the school’s biggest personality. She’s beautiful in a way that steals the spotlight, hardworking in a way that constantly seems to both surprise and impress, loud in a way that demands attention, and her personality is so uniquely her own that she is universally hard to avoid. And maybe that’s exactly what you find so alluring about her.

She is unapologetically herself.  

It attracts you, not unlike a magnet, and the new path of self-discovery that you’re on causes you to indulge in things like this. You figured that it might be nice to try and occupy yourself with someone who catches your attention in the way that she does, and Im Nayeon feels so untouchable that you doubt there will be any issue with having a tiny crush from afar.

But the joke’s on you, because she seems to like you a lot more than you expect.

It’s another finished meeting after school when she comes up from behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You can feel the wide grin on her face as she presses her cheek against the side of your head. You hope she doesn’t notice your face heating up.

“How’s my favorite assistant event coordinator?”

“That’s a mouthful,” you mumble shyly, unable to bite back the smile spreading across your cheeks. She smells nice. “I have a name, you know.”

“Yes, you do.” She pulls away from you to sit in the chair beside you. “Kim Dahyun. The smartest girl in your year.”

You clear your throat. “Well, I don’t know about the smartest. But I do try and keep my grades as high as I can.”

Nayeon laughs, playfully hitting your arm. “There’s no need to be so humble, jeez! Be proud of your accomplishments.”

“W-Well, I have another year to go. Th-There’s nothing to show off or—”

She raises an amused eyebrow. “Why are you nervous, with all that stuttering? We’re not strangers these days, right?”

It isn’t that Nayeon is wrong, per se, but her presence has not become any less intimidating since you met her. And it isn’t as though you know that much about each other. It’s been about two months since you joined the student council as an assistant for event coordination – which happens to be Nayeon’s area of responsibility – and her fondness over you has been shocking, to say the least. It’s not that she doesn’t treat others the same way, but you thought that you would blend into the background without her noticing you.

She’s kind in the way that she makes sure to give you attention during work, despite you being one of the youngest (and arguably more dispensable) members on the team, and she has said on multiple occasions that she finds you “adorably hilarious,” whatever that means. She simultaneously teases and helps you whenever you make calls to vendors and businesses in order to help with school events, and she always relents with a cheeky smile whenever you whine at her playfulness.

More often than not, she makes you feel like a pet of hers. You’ve never had a grasp over how that makes you feel, but you haven’t allowed yourself to humor anything beyond a typical upper and lower classmen relationship. This is just how she is. And, needless to say, you like that about her.

“No, but…”

“But?”

You blush, fiddling with your hands on the desk and averting your gaze. “It’s just surprising how much you compliment me.”

Her voice almost sounds offended. “Are people not complimenting you?! My Dahyun?!”

“That’s not it,” you say after a chuckle. “You’re just… you, I guess.”

Nayeon snorts, wrapping an arm around your shoulders again from beside you. “Well, if you know who I am, then you know that I mean what I say. Be proud of yourself, Dahyun, because you deserve it. Confidence is attractive.”

“Attractive?” You blink, watching as she giggles and stands up, beginning to walk away as warmth flares across your face. “But what if I just lack it?”

“Do what the rest of us do,” Nayeon shrugs calmly as she picks up her schoolbag along the way. She looks over her shoulder at you with a bunny-toothed smile, pausing at the doorframe of the room. “Fake it until you make it.”

Maybe you’ll take her advice.

≻≺

A couple of months pass and you genuinely feel like you’re getting the hang of things.

You’ve learned to push yourself in the face of a challenge or fear, and a part of it reminds you of your younger days when even a dog once seemed like a frightening concept until you took a chance. And, just like then, it is with the help of a certain someone.

Nayeon helps you to feel a lot bolder, and you find yourself working very efficiently within the student council. Because it is a great extracurricular activity for you, your parents have been allowing you to forgo a lot of the strenuous afterschool lessons you used to take every day, and you’ve found yourself having more time to enjoy days with Chaeyoung, and occasionally even Momo on a rare weekend.

It’s been a good year.

There’s been enough growth that you almost feel bad for the you that had been in your shoes not too long ago. Making calls and taking charge of certain projects isn’t as daunting as it once was and, even though you often feel yourself shaking, you always try to put your best smile forward. Nayeon encourages you and stands up for you when others doubt you because of your age, and you tend to wonder how you got so lucky to have such a great role model in the school.

Other times, you wonder how to make your heartbeat slow down whenever she enters a room.

It's been nice to experience unbridled butterflies with little consequence or worry but, by the time the third-years’ graduation rolls around, you feel a little too much for your liking. What you felt for Chaeyoung was something you didn’t really allow to grow, and so this is entirely different. Maybe you made a mistake by watering a plant that should’ve stayed deep in the ground like the last one. It isn’t love; this is something you don’t doubt. But it’s stronger than anything that you’ve experienced so far, even if that’s a low bar to begin with.

You sigh and Chaeyoung nudges you.

“What’s up?” She raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re usually a little more supportive at these sorts of things.”

You gawk, shifting the bouquet in your hands. “Hey! I’m being supportive! I have flowers and everything!”

Chaeyoung laughs. “You’re looking really gloomy, though. Did something bad happen with Nayeon?”

“No.”

She dips her head to smell the flowers in her own arms, grinning between tulips. “Just checking.”

The breeze is brisk as you wait outside the building, drowning in a sea of other students and relatives as the graduation takes place inside. You had thought about bringing a bouquet for Nayeon before, but the idea had made you feel embarrassed. However, once Chaeyoung mentioned that she wanted to bring a bouquet in order to support Momo, you were quick to change your tune. It gives you a good excuse. After all, you’ve been trying to get better at being a little more daring anyway.

There’s little waiting left to do before the graduates begin to pour out of the exits, and Chaeyoung is quick to drag you along the sea of people to find Momo. The roses in your arms rustle around while you struggle to catch up with Chaeyoung’s pace.

You’re not paying much attention when you suddenly collide into Chaeyoung, who has abruptly stopped. Strong arms catch both of you before you can fall down, and you look up and smile at the familiar face.

“Congratulations, Momo!”

“Thank you, Dahyun.” Her grin is wide and b with pride and happiness. She looks down at your flowers and her eyes widen. “Are these for me?!”

“The ones in Chaeyoung’s hands are from the both of us.”

“Oh my.” Momo’s laugh is soft as Chaeyoung presents the bouquet.

“Congratulations!” Chaeyoung grins, her dimple practically piercing her own cheek. “Thank you for being the coolest upperclassman and neighbor ever!” She giggles when Momo somehow maneuvers an elbow to rub her head, despite the certificate and flowers in Momo’s arms.

“Thanks, Chaeng.”

“Anything for you.”

You scan the surrounding people for a glimpse of the (now ex) vice president. “I should probably find Nayeon now.”

Momo pouts. “Are you not going to hang out with me on my special day?”

“Momo.” You smile at her, a slight laugh bubbling past your lips. “Won’t you be spending it with family?”

“Your point?!”

Chaeyoung laughs. “I can join you for dinner if that’s what you’re offering. Dahyun just wants to give her favorite upperclassman some flowers.”

“How am I not your favorite?” Momo asks, seemingly genuinely baffled. Her puffed cheeks are adorable.

“I’ll just join you afterward, if that’s okay? I’m sure it won’t take long. I just have to find her.” You pause, reaching up and poking Momo’s cheek until it deflates. “And for the record, you are my favorite.”

Chaeyoung snorts. “Liar.”

But Momo chooses to ignore it, choosing instead to bashfully smile as you playfully spin the finger against her cheek.

Then, a familiar head of hair catches your eye in the distance, and you are swift with your goodbyes before running toward the subject of your search. She’s, thankfully, alone as she strays into a scarcely filled area, and her arms seem heavy with the weight of multiple bouquets already.

“Nayeon!” You call out, feeling shyness slither its way up your neck in the form of goosebumps as she spins around and grins at you.

“Hey!” She shimmies a little. “Do I look like I’m ready to take on the world?”

Your voice is soft but sincere when you present your bouquet to her. “I’ve always thought that you could take on the world.”

A giggle escapes you when she dramatically pretends as though she is about to cry while saying, “My protégé! I’ll never forget you and the faith you had in me! Your strength gives me my own!”

Her eyes are shining, and her nose is pink, and you think that maybe she had been crying at some point. But she seems overwhelmed with joy, and you can’t help but relish in it a little. It’s nice to see her so happy. She worked hard all year and it’s incredibly easy to imagine her obtaining inevitable success in life. You’re proud to know her.

She gingerly takes the flowers from you, adding it to the mini pile growing in her arms.

“You sure are popular, huh?”

Nayeon scoffs. “Please. People are just paying their dues for all the I did for them this year.”

“What happened to the girl who said there was no need to be humble?”

“She graduated!” She laughs, sticking a tongue out. “She can say whatever the hell she wants now!”

You smile, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with your hands behind your back. “I was actually wondering if I could tell you something that I’ve wanted to say.”

“You can tell me anything, Dahyun.” She readjusts the bouquets in her arms, as if prepared for a long talk. This is a rare moment where you want to hate that she’s so much more considerate than people think.

You expect nothing in return, truly. But, despite having prepared yourself for rejection, you can’t fight the nerves that threaten to eat you up. You gulp, pausing to figure out how you want to say this despite having rehearsed something the night before. More than anything, it’s a test you want to take for yourself. If you can do this, then perhaps you truly have learned something from her, and maybe there will be hope in a future that seemed horrifying and hopeless only a year ago.

You choose to ignore the wetness on your cheek as you let out a shaky breath. “I like you, Nayeon.”

At first, there was a hint of a smile cracking upon her features at your wording, but her brow furrows as she seems to register your expression and the way that your body is shaking. You briefly worry that this is a mistake.

She seems very serious, though not offended or disgusted. “As in, you have feelings for me?”

“Yes.” There is undoubtedly whiteness across your knuckles as your squeeze your hands behind you.

There is something to be admired in the way that she refuses to tear her eyes away from yours when you manage to finally make eye contact. And her stare keeps you there, hooked and uncertain as you attempt to decipher the expression on her face. What is she thinking?

Then, concerned, she asks, “You know my answer, don’t you?”

Air that you didn’t realize you had been holding seeps out of your nostrils. “Yes.”

“Then why confess to me?” She frowns, though it continues to be more worried than anything, at least from what you can tell. And, as much as a twinge of pain settles into your chest, something about it has you feeling a sense of relief. She doesn’t hate you, nor is she appalled by the implication of having feelings for other women. That’s all you can really ask for.

“I wanted to prove something to myself,” you say with a shrug and a small sniffle. “I’ve never confessed to anyone before. You’ve been pushing this idea of confidence on me all year, and I just…”

I wanted to make you proud, is what you want to say. But it feels stupid to admit when you simultaneously chose to try and ruin your friendship with her.

“Am I the first” – she pauses to lean closer and whisper — “girl that you’ve had a crush on?”

Despite the situation, you find it in yourself to chuckle. “Technically no, but you’re the first one I allowed myself to have a crush on. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“Hm. So what you’re saying is that I’m a catch with the ladies as well,” she says, finally, in her usual lighthearted voice and with a pumped eyebrow. It makes you laugh, and maybe it does the trick of lifting some of the weight off your shoulders.

“I’d say so,” you say after she’s done laughing too.

Nayeon becomes serious again. “It was really brave of you to tell me.”

“You’ve been an influence on me.”

She grins, her bunny teeth shining like her eyes. “A good one, clearly.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to proceed. If you’re being honest with yourself, you haven’t quite thought it through to this moment. A part of you had expected something much more tragic or upsetting and, although you do feel a bit of heartbreak, you’re incredibly grateful for how well she is taking all of this.

“I don’t hate you, you know.” Her words break you out of your thoughts. “I’m glad that you told me.”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to fuel your ego a little.” It’s shocking to you that you can joke at a time like this.   

“Unnecessary.” She strikes a dramatic pose with the flowers, fluttering her eyes a little and poking a leg out of her graduation gown. “Any more and it might pop open like a balloon.”

“Didn’t I just tell you that I’m attracted to you?”

“You’re not special, honey.” Nayeon winks, making a duck face and twisting her leg. “Everyone is.”

Your jaw hangs open, though you’re struggling not to laugh. “You’re going to act like this right now?”

“I’m a high school graduate! The world is in the palm of my hands! I may act as I so please!”

“I can’t believe that I look up to you.”

“Hey, this is exactly why you look up to me! Because I’m great.”

You sigh. “You’re right.”

She smiles softly then. “Just for the record, I’m really proud of you. For all the work you’ve done, for all the growth that I’ve seen in you, and especially for this.”

“Why are you being mushy suddenly?” You blush, looking away as she steps closer and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I know that I can’t be more than what I already am to you, but I also know that you are a good person and that this was probably anything but easy for you. I’m honored to be the first girl you’ve confessed to.” She nudges you and winks before adding, “And hey, there will be plenty more in line if your adorable personality is any indication.”

You pout. “You’re making me feel embarrassed…”

“Okay, and? I’m embarrassing in the best way, so deal with it.” Her smile betrays the sass in her voice, and you both stare at each other for a long moment before cracking up into a fit of laughter again, and you love the sound. You’ll miss it; miss her.

You aren’t sure if the tears peeking out of the corners of your eyes are out of rejection or relief, but you figure that everything will be fine when it comes to your friendship. It feels as though you’ve passed the test of Im Nayeon, taking away an important lesson from her as much as a part of you will depart alongside her. And whether or not she remains in your life – because you are well aware of the risk of friends fading away during university years – might be up in the air, but you know that she will have been a crucial part of it.

Still – despite everything – you choose to stay home alone tonight rather than attend dinner with friends, and you allow yourself to cry into your pillow just a bit. It took a lot to do what you did, something that was unthinkable not so long ago, and it’s a good a time as any to let it out.

But, at least for once, you know that it will be okay.
 

Eighteen.

It's been hard, but you’re finally past high school.

Falling back into old habits after Nayeon graduated, you had gotten back into the groove of keeping yourself incredibly busy. As much as you enjoyed the student council, things began to feel more monotonous without Nayeon around, and you could tell that the magic had faded away. But you stayed, because you wanted to continue doing your best in her honor.

You continued to gain high grades, being the diligent third-year student that you had always intended to be. There had been less time spent at home due to extracurricular council activities and, even when you had been home, it was primarily to study, do homework, shower, eat, and sleep. But your parents didn’t stop you, and you seemed to be making them proud. Otherwise, your brother was used to not having you around as much.

But then Ari passed away toward the tail-end of your third-year, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Even now, you feel lingering regret for not having spent less time on working and more time on being with friends and family, Ari included. You had dropped out of the student council, but you managed to keep your grades up until graduation, securing the valedictorian title that was projected to be yours by your second-year.

It had been a pretty low bump in the road for a long time, but you’ve been feeling better ever since the week before university started. Maybe it had to do with the promise of a fresh start at a new school, but you were thankful to be moving past your grief, especially if it meant getting a dorm room away from home and memories of loss.

It's the beginning of your second week at university, and you swallow a lump in your throat as you stare at a partially ripped notice on one of the dorm’s bulletin boards. There are some rainbows surrounding a time and a place to meet on campus, and you try not to focus too hard on the different, familiar labels spread across the sheet in different colors.

It feels dangerous to have a flyer like this in public.

Regardless, you copy the time onto your phone and proceed to make your way to the cafeteria to meet up with Momo.

“And this is a club, or something else?” she asks once you’ve found a table together, trays of food in hand.

“Unsure.” Fiddling with your chopsticks, you doubt that you have the stomach to eat all your noodles. “It just advertised itself as being a way to meet others… like me.”

There’s a frown on her face while she bites into some jokbal. “You say it so dramatically. You’re not alone, Dahyun. It’s normal.”

“I know, I just want to feel it more than know it, you know what I mean? And this will help, I think! If I meet new people.”

Momo pauses, lowering her wrist to the table for a moment, and she stares at you for a long time before opening . “Dahyun, you know that…”

“That?”

“Well…” She seems to bite the inside of her cheek, tearing her gaze away. “I’m also, uh… you know, a member of the community.”

“What?!” Your eyes practically bulge out of your sockets once you register her implication, and Momo somehow miraculously manages to stumble in place, despite being seated.

She collects herself and sits back up. “I thought you knew!”

“No, Momo!” You lock her gaze. “You literally never told me that! How long have you known?!”

Momo mumbles, “Your ‘gaydar’ never really was on point, so I guess I can’t be shocked…”

You swiftly pull her bowl away from her, eliciting a whine from the older girl as she tries to take the bowl back. She is unable to get past your arms as you huddle them around both of your dishes.

“Dahyun,” she says softly with a pout.

“Nuh-uh. That’s not working this time.” You pout right back, and she gasps. “How long have you known?”

She sighs. “I figured it out by the time I was eleven, I think. I had an experience that gave me the hint.”

You slowly slide her bowl back to her. “So, you… had already known by the time I told you about me?”

“Yeah.” You’re not quite sure why her response makes you blush. “It was kind of nice. It never really bothered me in the same way that it did for you at the time, but it still felt good to know I wasn’t the only one at our school.” Then, she frowns. “You really thought you were alone that whole time?”

You ignore the question. “I just don’t understand why you assumed that I knew.”

“I mean, I” – she scrunches her face for a moment as she pauses – “don’t know. I just figured.”

There’s no reason to feel awkward, but you kind of do. “Well, I mean, obviously I support you. I think that’s pretty clear.”

She chuckles, albeit quietly, but continues eating. She seemed as though she was about to add something else, but she continues to focus instead on her food.

“Did you want to… go, then?”

“To what?”

“The meetup.”

“Oh.” Momo shakes her head. “I have plans tonight with an old friend of mine. I’ll introduce you to her one day, I think you’ll get along.” She begins to move toward her bowl again before stopping, looking up at you again to add, “Unless you need me to go?”

You don your toughest voice. “I can handle it!”

“Because Nayeon taught you well, right?”

“Exactly!” A grin forms on your face. “All of my bold actions are thanks to her.”

“If going to a meeting is considered bold, then I’m worried for you.”

“Shush!”

She snickers at you, and the rest of the lunch falls into the usual amicable conversation. Despite feeling a little blindsided by Momo’s sudden reveal, you are genuinely grateful to have a chance to get to know her better. Obviously, you hadn’t intended to apply here just because Momo happened to be here, but it worked out that way by coincidence and it is great to have not only a familiar face, but a familiar friend, on campus. She and Chaeyoung had always been much closer since they had been neighbors, but this has proven to be a good opportunity to make up for all the days when you couldn’t make it to Chaeyoung’s house and meet Momo because of being busy after school.

She’s kind enough to drop you off at the meetup spot – some unused classroom in the building adjacent to the literature department – and gives you a nudge and a wink before walking away. Still can’t believe she’s been gay this whole time and never said anything, is what you grumble in your head before turning and walking into the room.

There aren’t a lot of people present, but you can’t say that you’re surprised. In fact, you’re shocked that there’s even, at least, ten people to begin with. An incredibly well-groomed boy greets you as you enter, and you smile in return as he tells you to take a seat while you wait for the talking to start.

You still aren’t quite sure what the ultimate goal of the meetup is, but you take a seat anyway. Scanning the room, you find yourself reevaluating what different identities can appear as, and you briefly wonder if you’ve done a disservice by believing in certain stereotypes in the past.

It's while you’re quietly observing everyone that the seat beside you scrapes unpleasantly against the ground, drawing your attention toward the sudden girl beside you. Her pink hair immediately sticks out to you.

“Hey.” She extends a hand.

You briefly indulge her in shaking it. “Hello. What’s your name?”

“Jeongyeon.” Despite the natural sincerity of her smile, there’s a crookedness to it that is surprisingly youthful. “Yours?”

“Dahyun,” you answer, offering a small smile in return.

“Are you a first-year? I haven’t seen you here before.”

You blink. “Oh, so this is a club?”

She chuckles. “No, but they hold this every year. This is my second time.”

“Ah.” You look around for a moment, wondering how many of the folks are upperclassmen. “Is this just to, like…”

Jeongyeon manages to figure out where your intentions are headed. “I think it’s mainly for solidarity with any incoming students. Sort of like, ‘oh hey, the queer community exists, and you aren’t bat crazy’ or whatever.”

You giggle. “Perfect, that’s exactly the message I was hoping to receive.” Although, something about the terminology still feels hard to swallow. It feels foreign and wrong, and you shudder at the thought of having to inevitably process internalized homophobia.

“You’re valid, as the kids say,” she says with a smile, crossing her legs and arms in the chair in order to be more comfortable. “They’ll give a talk in a few minutes about the bullying and tolerance stuff on campus. Most people are private about this sort of thing, but I guess we’re trying to make it a little more known, to—ah, normalizing! That’s the word. We’re trying to make it more normalized, I guess.”

“I only just found out an hour ago that I wasn’t the only lesbian at my high school.” It comes out of your mouth more naturally than you would’ve expected, and you can’t resist the bubbling in your stomach at how casually you admitted to being attracted to women. I mean, you begin to rationalize in your head before the panic sets, I’m at a meetup for similar kids, I don’t think it’s that shocking.

“Wow!” Jeongyeon seems genuinely amused and amazed. “See? Normalizing is so important. It’s pretty incredible that you are the only one who came out.”

You blush. “Actually, I didn’t…”

“Oh.” She smirks. “Well, if you were closeted like that, then I’m sure you can imagine that others were, too. There had to have been at least a third,” she ends with a laugh, and you summon the nerve to playfully nudge her.

“I had a hard time coming to terms with the label,” you admit. “In fact, even now I’m shocked that I said ‘lesbian’ with my own mouth. It’s… a lot. It somehow manages to still feel wrong after, like, three years.”

“You probably don’t need me to tell you this, but I hope you’re able to remember that, at the end of the day, it isn’t wrong at all.” Her voice is laced with more worry than you’d expect of a stranger, and you try not to think too much about the reassuring hand she puts on your arm. “There are lots of people like you, like us. We’re not even really all that different from anyone else.” She smirks, a mischievous expression donning her face. “We just have better options.”

A smile makes its way onto your features. “Girls are pretty great.”

“Pretty and great,” Jeongyeon corrects, and you nod in agreement.

The lovely boy at the front calls for everyone’s attention, and he opens a slideshow onto a screen at the front of the classroom. It is exactly how Jeongyeon said it would be, with slides and miniature lectures regarding the environment on campus as far as support and risks of hostility. You’re a little surprised that they have a list of notable teachers that have been known to discriminate based on stereotypes, but you try and take a quick picture on your phone so that you can remember them for later.

There’s an icebreaker that comes next, with everyone around the room introducing themselves and saying something about their plans or program with school. As nervous as you are, it isn’t too hard to announce that you’re a first-year with an interest in following music. Seeing as she’s next to you, you also learn that Jeongyeon is pursuing a degree in physical therapy, supposedly after some accident with a horse led her to receive physical therapy herself. She said that she had felt inspired by the practice, and that she wanted to help people of all ages find their full potential as well as comfort with their bodies.

“It’s never too late to work toward loving yourself enough to try and better your situation,” she had said toward the tail-end of her introduction, and you exchange a small smile with her once the next person begins to talk. Jeongyeon seems really cool, as far as you can tell.

The meetup ends not too long after the slideshow is finished, and Jeongyeon accompanies you into the hallway after everyone begins to disperse.

“Was that okay?”

You shrug. “Honestly, it was not as scary as I anticipated.”

She grins. “That’s the message, isn’t it? There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re you, and that’s good, not bad.”

“Well,” – you clear your throat— “it isn’t like you know me that well. Maybe I could still be bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeongyeon snickers. “I’d like to see that.”

Her smile is strangely charming and, for the first time, you feel an unfamiliar temptation to do something that you’ve never had the chance to do before because you had never (knowingly) met someone like you. Taking your phone out of your pocket, you present it to her, and you hear the encouraging voices of the past pushing you to take a chance.

“You could,” you dare to say, hoping that the way your voice trembles isn’t easy to notice.

Her eyes widen and she blinks, her eyes switching between your own and the phone. “Are you—”

“Is this how you’re supposed to flirt?” Your question is shy as you cut her off, and you are sure there is a blush on your face.

“I mean,” she mumbles as she suddenly looks away, scratching the back of her neck suddenly. “I think it could be, yeah.” You’re certain that there’s a blush on her cheeks as well. “We don’t really know each other, though. You’re okay with that? Didn’t you imply that this is all still new and weird?”

You’re surprised by her concern, but that’s something that you think you like. “Honestly speaking, I’ve never interacted with another lesbian – well, that I knew of – and you seem cool, so I’m… trying. I want to learn to be okay with that.”

She looks back to you with an eyebrow raised, and there’s something in her expression that seems skeptical. “So, what? You want a guru or something?”

“Oh,” you choke out. “Well, I mean, I just –”

Jeongyeon chuckles, patting the top of your head. “You’re cute.”

“Th-Thank you.” There is no doubt that your face is red now. “You’re really pretty.”

“Whoa.” She smirks. “Lady killer over here, huh?”

“It was a genuine compliment! I meant it!” With a light blush on her cheeks, she shakes her head at your words. Your voice morphs into a subtle whine. “What?”

“Nothing. There may be hope for you after all. But just because I’m a lesbian that you happened to meet organically, doesn’t mean that you need to have a crush on me! They are out there, I swear.”

“Fine.” You sigh, throwing away the subtle hope in the back of your head that you may have found a potential partner, and you briefly humor the idea that maybe Jeongyeon can read minds.

She grins. “Trust me, I’ve been there.”

≻≺

Jeongyeon’s experience is evident very quickly.

You often meet her for lunch or for dinner on campus, and she is always taking the opportunity to explain some kind of unfamiliar slang or to talk to you about hypothetical dating scenarios. She provides a lot of wise anecdotes from past relationships. There’s a part of you that thinks that maybe she was a little too enthused about the “guru” idea, but it’s amusing if nothing else. And she’s even gone as far as to have you imitate poses and phrases, though often you realize too late that she’s merely teasing you and trying to get you to look or say something goofy. This causes you to confirm fairly quickly that any feelings for Yoo Jeongyeon have dissipated, as fleeting and tiny as they may have been in pocketed moments.

She also reminds you of a modern-day Romeo, ironically enough – except, a lesbian Romeo. One time you had the nerve to say “homeo” to her as a pun on the word “homo,” but it didn’t work out at all and she made fun of you for about a week. Regardless, she’s generous and kind in her actions, in ways that don’t quite reach her words in the same way. You often wonder how she hasn’t landed a girlfriend yet, because – with as little experience as you may have – she seems like a genuine catch in your eyes, even if you’re not the one with the fishing pole.

It's not easy for you to wait to introduce Jeongyeon to Momo, so you don’t bother to. It happens shortly after that meetup, and they click pretty easily, though Jeongyeon has already complained during the few times that you’ve had to stop by Momo’s dorm.

“How do you have such a messy pile of stuffed toys? Aren’t you a college student?” Jeongyeon often asks Momo, though the latter never gives her the satisfaction of an answer. They’re fast friends. A tiny part of you wonders if anything will build up from there, but you’re happy with the outcome, regardless. It’s weird to have gone from feeling alone to feeling casually surrounded by the same types of people that you once felt shame identifying with. It’s a miraculous change, to the point where you think that attending church for so long has accumulated a pile of karmic excellence.

It’s not until a facetime call one day from Chaeyoung that you realize how lucky you are, and how small the world can feel.

(“I can’t believe both of your upperclassmen friends on campus are lesbians,” she says over the line as you rub an eraser across some notes on your music sheets. She smiles at you occasionally between scribbles into some notebook. “I’m really happy for you, Dubu. I know how hard this used to be for you, having female friends.”

“Thanks, Chae.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just feel like I’ve always been so used to girls stepping out of my life? I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s your childhood, I’ve told you!”

“Hey,” you grunt at the phone, and she laughs. “I don’t know that. Speaking of things I didn’t know, did I mention how I had no idea about Momo until my second week here?” You haven’t had a chance to bring this up in the two months that you’ve been at the university now, and you know Chaeyoung would enjoy it to some capacity.

“… Are you kidding?”

“No!” You stare at her through the phone incredulously. “You too? You think I should’ve known?”

“Oh my god. Momo told me she liked girls when you and I were, like, eleven!” She looks way too amused. You pout at her grumpily.

“Not everyone is neighbors with Hirai Momo, Chaeng,” you grumble, eliciting a snort from her while you aggressively continue to write and erase the notes in your music. “She never told me .”

“Did you know that I’m biual?”

You look up slowly at the phone, watching her cheeky smile while you register her words. “What?”

She offers a peace sign with her hand. “Surprise?”

“Is this you coming out to me?” You blink, half gawking.

Chaeyoung looks away from the camera, clearly pretending to continue her writing. “I had always been open-minded about it ever since Momo told me. But after you came out, I don’t know. It made me feel less weird about certain times where I thought a girl was cute or something.” She shrugs, though a smile creeps onto her face. “I think I had a crush on Momo when I was little without even realizing it. How does an eight-year-old have abs?! What kind of sick joke is that to a seven-year-old who uses them as drums for a fake two-girl band?”

You laugh loudly at that, but you soften out into a gentle smile. “I’m so happy that you told me.”

“Of course. You’re my inspiration to do so in the first place.”

“Huh?”

From her end, you can see her pulling her knees up onto the chair, letting her chin rest at the top while she wraps her arms around her shins. “I’ve always had a slightly larger preference for guys, but seeing how difficult it was for you and how concerned you were with telling me, I felt like I should have been embracing my full truth. I was worried that I had to ‘choose’ one, so I went with the one I thought I liked a little more.” You can swear that you see a blush on her face. “But you inspired me to stop pretending. I’m always telling you how you’re fine the way you are, but I wasn’t being completely fine with myself. It’s a spectrum, you know? But it’s all real to me, too.”

There’s no way that you can fathom that you could’ve inspired Chaeyoung, of all people, but the sheer concept is enough to make your eyes water. In fact, you aren’t even sure what to say in return in order to express how much you love your best friend; how much you support her in everything she does. So, in your panicked rush to get out some kind of response that isn’t just you ugly-sobbing during a facetime call, you settle for the classic, incredibly awkward approach that requires zero thinking to blurt out.

“Did you know that you were the first girl I ever had a real crush on at one point?” Your voice cracks while you try and fight back a smile, but it’s hard when Chaeyoung practically falls out of her chair.

“Eh?!”)

It’s strange, the way that things come together after a long time. And maybe eighteen years isn’t quite that long in the grand scheme of things, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve earned this at least a little bit.

You hope that those two fading faces from long ago are happy these days, no longer buried in monochromatic memories.

Jeongyeon’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “As cute as you may be, sitting there looking like a daydreaming puppy isn’t going to bode well with your future dates.”

“Right,” you mumble as you straighten yourself up in the booth seat. “Go on.”

It’s been like this every weekend. Jeongyeon either takes you out to places as a chance to meet someone that you might like, or she uses to opportunity to simulate practice dates. Tonight just so happens to be the latter.

“So if you’re not sure what to say to someone, the easiest thing to do is to get them talking about themselves.” She takes a sip of her water before continuing, “There are people out there who aren’t used to talking about themselves, but as long as you at least look like and express that you’re genuinely interested, they’ll probably loosen up on it.”

“What if they’re like me and they feel bad taking up too much of the conversation?”

“Well, that’s your own problem.” Jeongyeon snickers, but then shakes her head. “Kidding, though I guess you could try and just balance it out. Some people are into games; you could shoot them that twenty questions and see if they might be interested in that. This way, you both have a turn and it’s equal. But definitely try to stick to questions that aren’t super personal, but still can’t be answered in one word.”

“Why not?”

She deadpans. “Do you hate when someone only gives you one-word responses in texts?”

“Yeah.”

“Then there you go.”

You chuckle. “Fair enough. And what about the bill?”

She shrugs. “Kind of depends on the person, maybe. I think that the person that asked for the first date should pay first, and then any more dates after that should be split.” There’s a pause and a hum before she continues, “Some people like to just treat others, though. It depends, like I said. But first date, I think it should be reasonably priced and that the person who asked should pay.”

“What if the person that asked wants to split on the first?”

“I think that’s still fair, but they should clear that up beforehand. A lot of people still expect that traditional ‘pay on the first date’ behavior, so you don’t want to just drop that at the last minute.”

“I see.” You fiddle with some of the beef on your plate. “Do you think I’m the type to get asked out or to do the asking out?”

Jeongyeon chokes on her water a bit, trying to hide a laugh until you gently kick her shin beneath the table. “These things depend, Dahyun! The world isn’t so black and white. Life isn’t made of piano keys, okay?”

“Ah, I know, I just—”

“You’re worth asking out and there will be girls who would be very happy if you asked them out.” She reaches across the table and ruffles your hair, and you give her your biggest eyes and puffiest cheeks. “See? Look at how adorable you are.”

“Jeong…”

She snickers, retracting her arm. “Fine, fine.”

You watch as she returns to her kimchi, and you think back on when you first met, and suddenly an old conversation comes to mind.

“Guess what.”

Jeongyeon looks up at you through her glasses. “What?”

“Found out recently, again, that there was another one at my school during my time. She’s biual.”

“Ha!” Jeongyeon gently hits the table with restrained enthusiasm, keeping her voice only semi-down. “What did I tell you?!”

“I know, I know.” You giggle. “I was so surprised, you have no idea! She’s a friend of mine, too.”

She snorts. “For someone who went through a lot of repression growing up, you seem to be gathering a group of belated gays.”

“God, what if the girl I confessed to in high school is into women now?”

“The one you confessed to at her graduation?” It’s always a pleasant surprise how well Jeongyeon remembers things that you’ve told her. “Don’t you keep in touch with her?”

“I always send her messages on holidays or when she’s posted about something she’s done.” You smile a bit. “I sometimes wonder if her being disgusted with me would’ve drastically changed me and how I am today. I never expected her to like me back, but her thinking less of me was my biggest worry. I’m really happy with how things turned out, I think.”

“You’re a strong girl, Dahyun.” Jeongyeon says, sitting up with her back against the booth as she crosses her arms. “Even if she had a bad opinion, it wouldn’t have mattered. You’d still be a wonderful person. I mean, sure, maybe you would have a significant level of depression for a while, but—”

“Hey!” You hit her shin again with the tip of your shoe, and she smiles.

“You’re worth loving, dude. No more questions about the type of person you are; no more wondering about what would’ve happened if someone looked down on you because you happen to like girls. You’re you, and that’s enough. And someone is going to love you for you, even if you don’t see it right away.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you mumble with a trembling lip. “That’s so nice of you. What did you do to Jeongyeon?”

“Well, because I’m such a nice person, you can just say ‘thanks’ because I’m about to pay this bill.”

You decide then that Jeongyeon is a saint disguised in hoodies, glasses, and unkept updos.
 

Nineteen.

Although she often forgot, Momo finally finds time to introduce you to her childhood friend.

(“You have a childhood friend who isn’t Chaeng? She might be offended.”

Momo rolls her eyes and giggles. “Please, Sana was first, especially because she was the only other Japanese person I could talk to when I was little and still learning Korean. She’s my best friend. We had met in primary school and stayed in touch ever since, despite her going to a different high school later.”

“Wow, that’s awesome,” you say, ignoring the way that you wish you could say the same of an old friend. “I’m excited to meet her.”)

Momo suggests a last-minute movie night when she finds out that her roommate won’t be around for the entirety of the weekend, and you don’t hesitate to agree since you’ve watched movies together before.

However, upon arriving, you are met with one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.

“Oh!” The girl grins at you as she leans against the doorframe, with cheeks that paint a picture of a sunrise behind your eyes almost immediately. Even music comes to mind, but that feels like salt in the wound of something forgotten. “Are you Momo’s friend?”

“Y-Yeah.” You gulp hard, desperate to stop your throat from drying up.

She takes a moment to observe you, her eyes shining as she raises an eyebrow. There’s a hint of amusement in her gaze, even as it softens, but she inevitably steps back and lets you walk into the room. You’re desperate to get to Momo as fast as possible.

“Hey!” Momo greets, blinking but smiling widely when you practically crash into her arms once she gets up from the small couch. “Didn’t we see each other two days ago? You missed me this much?”

“Yeah,” you mumble back automatically, willing your heartbeat to calm down.

The door shuts, and Momo’s friend walks over with a giggle. “We didn’t even introduce ourselves.”

“Ah, yeah!” Momo turns you in her arms. “Dahyun, this is Sana. Sana, this is Dahyun.”

Your grin gets wider than normal when you’re anxious. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she says with another giggle, and you hate that is sounds like a perfect arrangement. She seems so bubbly, and it’s a big difference from what you’re used to with your current social circles.

Her eyes flicker to Momo, who speaks up again, “Were you guys in the mood for something specific? We can watch a few things since we’ve got all night.”

“Harry Potter marathon?” Sana asks, sticking a tongue out before playfully biting it.

Momo deadpans. “No.”

The other girl shrugs, unbothered. “Worth a shot. What about you, Dahyun?” She meets your eyes again. “Are you in the mood for anything?”

I’m definitely in the mood to panic, you think before replying with, “Not really.”

“You two are useless,” Momo whines. She plops onto the couch on the leftmost side – something that you kind of want to pinch her for, because you feel as though the mutual friend be in the middle – and you react instantly when she pats the space beside you.

There’s absolutely no way that you’re not going to have at least one friend on your side. Although, when Sana casually takes the seat on your right, you realize that maybe squishing yourself between two older, gorgeous Japanese women wasn’t really the smartest idea while you’re already in the middle of what Jeongyeon has kindly informed you in the past to be a “gay panic.” You take a deep breath. At least one of them is Momo, and there’s comfort in that.

Momo decides on an animated film at first, stating that it’s Hauru no Ugoku Shiro. It seems that both Momo and Sana have seen it before, because they don’t seem too bothered by casually talking with one another once in a while, but you find yourself interested in it. You’re grateful for the subtitles. It goes without much of a hitch, and you feel as though you’ve started to relax by the time the movie finishes.

“Did you like that, Dahyun?” Momo asks once she returns to the movie selections.

You nod. “Yeah, actually. I thought it was pretty cool.”

“Did you notice that she kept getting younger and younger?” Sana asks from beside you and, although she’s still new and still pretty enough to make you nervous, you manage to look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, it was subtle at first, but I definitely started noticing it.” You hum, looking back to the screen while Momo continues down the list. “My favorite character was the scarecrow, but I can’t remember his name. Or maybe Karushifâ.”

“Magic is cool, right?” Sana’s eyes shine again.

“Definitely.”

“See, Momo?” She is smug now. “Dahyun likes magic. Put on Harry Potter!”

“We watch at least one of those movies every time we hang out.” Momo shakes her head, blatantly ignoring Sana’s request as she skips past the titles on the list.

Sana whines, and it’s unfortunately very cute. “Momoring…”

“Nope!” Momo selects the movie Busanhaeng. “Not happening. Too late, I already chose.”

“You’re no fun,” Sana mumbles, though you feel yourself tensing up when she snuggles herself a little more into your side before whispering, “Unlike you, Dahyun. You have taste.”

“Th-Thanks.” Your voice definitely cracks, but you opt to pretend that it didn’t happen. Instead, you try to focus on asking Momo, “Why did you choose this? Isn’t this kind of scary?”

“It’s zombies, so probably.” Momo puts the remote down on the armrest. “I heard that it’s good for a zombie film, though. Are you okay with horror?”

You lie through your teeth. “Yeah.”

“Scary movies can be fun,” Sana says quietly as the movie starts, giving your forearm a gentle squeeze.

And she’s the touchy type, too. You resist the urge to groan, doing your best to focus on the film. A sense of discomfort grows in you at the deer scene in the beginning as well as the infected girl, and your fingers dig themselves deep into the denim of your jeans.

At some point, Sana shrieks, and you feel yourself wanting to shrivel up from how high your stomach leaps up into your throat. Momo reaches her foot across the ground to gently hit Sana’s knee.

“I thought you liked scary movies,” you whisper to your right.

“I do.” There’s a blush on Sana’s face that is visible even from the dim light of the screen. She giggles at her own expense. “I scream at scary stuff, but I still like watching.”

Can’t relate, you think as you reluctantly return your attention to the movie, your nails digging deeper into your pants as concern begins to build up between scenes.

When you feel Sana’s hand finding its way into your right palm, it’s during a particularly tense scene that you don’t want to tear your eyes away from. You can’t help but squeeze her hand, because not even a beautiful stranger is going to be more overwhelming than the anxiety that this scene is causing you right now. You feel your heartbeat slow just a little when her fingers weave their way into yours, but you’re honestly just focused on trying to get through this part of the movie.

A lot ends up happening, some of which you shut your eyes for, and all three of you cry when a certain character dies. It goes without saying that they were probably the favorite of all three of you. Momo weeps against your shoulder, you rest your head back and sniffle at the ceiling, and Sana silently grasps your hand with a force that is somehow tighter but gentler. You kind of hate this movie, if only because it’s making you sad.

It eventually ends, and Momo quickly turns on some feel-good romantic comedy, though she falls asleep halfway through it. Her snores are very soft, and you can feel her breathing against your left side as she slumps against you.

You feel like you should say something, but you feel trapped between a rock and a hard place – namely, a sleeping Momo and a Sana whose hand hasn’t left yours for over an hour at this point.

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything.

“Is she asleep?” Sana asks, and you wish she wouldn’t lean into you every time she talked, in some effort to not be very loud.

You glance at Momo, watching briefly as her body rises and falls. “She’s knocked out.”

“Let’s put her in bed.” Sana slips her hand out of yours, and you fight the momentary urge to keep her from letting go. She stands up and steps over your feet, leaning over to help Momo stand up. When the latter mumbles something unintelligible, Sana nearly whispers, “You’re going to go to sleep,” and guides her over to the lower mattress of a bunk bed.

You’re not really sure what to do with yourself, so you remain seated. There was some consideration going into this regarding a sleepover, but that had been before you knew about a third party being involved.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Sana asks once she has tucked Momo in.

You raise an eyebrow. “This late?”

“’Late?’” Sana snorts. “It’s only midnight. Are you tired?”

“N-Not really.”

She seems insistent on going, regardless of your answer, based on the way that she slips her feet into some shoes. “If you don’t want to go, it’s okay. I won’t be too long.”

“No, no.” You stand up, feeling compelled. “I’ll come, too. I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Chivalrous,” she says with a smile. “I like that.”

You ignore her compliment.

After stepping out of the dorm building, Sana gently nudges your hand with her own from the side.

“Is this okay?” Sana asks, though not without additionally teasing, “You seemed fine with it during that movie.”

“Yeah.” Your blush must be beet red, but you’re thankful for the night. You intertwine your hand with hers, and it’s honestly nice. “It’s fine.”

There’s a few minutes of silence, and it feels comfortable aside from the internal panic that you’re having about holding a pretty girl’s hand alone at night. But still, there’s something comforting in it. That is, until Sana stumbles on virtually nothing while walking along pavement, and she breaks out into giggles as you almost stumble along with her.

“Are you okay?” You ask, and her giggles are a little infectious. Still, your lips tremble as you try to resist, because you genuinely are concerned.

“Fine,” she lets out with a final laugh. “I’m fine, thank you.”

She’s insanely cute. Your grasp on her hand tightens ever so slightly, and you bite back a smile when you feel her squeezing back, and she gently begins to swing your arms side by side.

“Your reaction to it being ‘only’ midnight was funny,” you say suddenly, attempting to make some kind of conversation. “Do you normally sleep late?”

“Yes.” She hums, seemingly happy that you’re either talking or that you’ve asked her a question. “I have trouble sleeping, so I only start to get tired around two or three.”

“Wow, that is really late.”

“Yeah, but walks are nice.” She looks at you, meeting your eyes with a bright smile. “Aren’t they?”

“I do like walks.” You smile back, thinking that maybe they’re extra nice when it’s with Sana.

A beat passes before she speaks up again, looking ahead for a moment, “And what about me?”

“What about you?” Your brow furrows, a little confused.

“Do you like me?” There’s a subtle smirk on Sana’s face, but her gaze is warm as it meets yours again.

If by some miracle you weren’t blushing before, then you certainly are now. “W-We just met.”

She giggles. “And? You’ve been a bit of a mess since we met at the door.”

“Hey!” You frown. “I was not a mess!”

There’s a hearty laugh that comes out of her, and her grasp on your hand remains tight. “You literally stuttered a ‘yeah’ and practically sprinted to Momo. You couldn’t even say your name.”

“Well, you didn’t ask.”

Sana shakes her head, still amused. “Fair. Although, you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?”

“Uh, um…” This girl is much more intense than you had predicted.

She stops, turning toward you completely without letting go. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she says, and her expression is serious, maybe even a little challenging.

You sigh and shake your head, watching as she chuckles and feeling as she rubs a thumb across the back of your hand. “Is this the part where it gets awkward?”

“No.” She raises an eyebrow, a slightly lopsided smile on her face. “It’s the part where I say that I think you’re super cute, too.”

“Oh.” You shuffle your feet a little when you look down at them. “That’s… cool.”

“You’re a shy one,” Sana notes.

“It’s because I’ve never… well, I’ve never been in a relationship or on any real dates before.”

She blinks, hanging open a little. “You’re joking.”

“No,” you mumble, subconsciously puffing your own cheeks a bit. “Never had a girlfriend.” Maybe she’ll think about how she wouldn’t want to be with someone so inexperienced, or maybe she’ll laugh at you for being pathetic. She laughs a lot, so it wouldn’t be too crazy to think she could spare some at you, too.

You blink when she presents you with her phone in her opposite hand, the screen illuminating a “new contact” page.

“In that case,” she begins to say, never letting go while you use your free hand to insert your information, “after a few – hopefully successful – dates, maybe I can be the one to change that.”

And, well, she does.

Minatozaki Sana changes everything.

≻≺

It’s been a year and a half.

Sana is easily the most intense, wonderful, and intoxicating person that you have ever met. There are a lot of days where you think that every rough week is worth it if you get to see her on the weekends, and she often litters your face with kisses every time you mention it.

You had learned fairly quickly that Sana is the type who can barely contain her excitement, and so becoming girlfriends only took two dates before the older girl had caved. Obviously, you were just as excited to become official, but you would’ve easily waited through thousands of more dates if that’s what it was going to take.

She becomes your first with everything. Your first real date, first kiss with mutual feelings, first girlfriend, first ual partner, and first love. There is really little you can do to avoid becoming completely engulfed in all that Sana is, but you welcome it. And by the look of things, her shining eyes remind you every day that she feels the same way.

But today she seems distracted, and not as bubbly as she usually is.

“Hey,” you say softly, gently rubbing her arm. “What’s wrong?”

It isn’t that seeing Sana like this is impossible by any means, but it never gets any easier, no matter how many times you’ve seen it. She has her sensitive moments, too, but it’s just another thing that you love about her. But it’s still hard.

She squeezes you closer to her, nuzzling her face into your neck. The two of you had been watching some videos on your dorm’s television, with you being in her lap, before you realized that she was quieter than normal.

You try again. “Sana?”

“I have a really hard decision to make,” she says at an almost inaudible volume, the vibrations of her words against your neck making you extra anxious.

“What decision?” Your voice is tentative, but you lift a hand up to her chin so that you can turn it to face you. You cup the side of her cheek, rubbing a thumb along her skin as she leans into your palm. But she doesn’t look at you.

Her voice doesn’t get any louder. “I got a call last night about a recurring cast opportunity for a show.”

You blink, your lips stretching a bit into the beginning of a smile. “What? That’s great news! Graduation isn’t for another month and you’re already getting a job?”

She shakes her head a bit, meeting your gaze. “It’s in Japan, Dahyun.”

Your smile falters. “Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, you’re going to take it right?” You bite the inside of your cheek for a beat. “You can’t just not take it.”

Her brow furrows. “What about us, Dahyun? We’re in a different country right now.”

“And?” You don’t understand. “What does that have to do with us?”

She sighs. “Dahyun, it’s hard enough that we can only see each other on the weekends. And that’s just because we go to two different schools. Imagine when we’re in two different countries!”

You feel panic bubbling in your stomach. There are only three directions that are foreseeable in your mind with the direction of this conversation and, quite frankly, none are very appealing. Obviously, you want her to succeed and pursue her acting career. It’s a difficult industry and it would be a stupid move to squander such a huge opportunity. On the other hand, your relationship is at stake. That is, unless you try long distance, but Sana makes a valid point about missing one another even when it’s just weekends. But still, you’d rather do that than break up.

“We can do long distance,” you say, feigning some level of self-assurance that you don’t have. “I can’t let you say no to this.”

“Why can’t you?” She huffs, moving her face away from your hand. “It’d be so much easier if you just told me not to go.”

You bite your lip. “You wouldn’t have told me in the first place if you didn’t want to think about going.” She looks away. “Why can’t we try long distance?”

“Dahyun, you know I” – she wraps her arms more securely around your waist as she looks back to you – “value the physical part of this a lot.” You blush while your eyes widen, and she rolls her eyes with the smallest hint of a smile. “I don’t mean that. But I can’t go months, maybe even years, without holding you while claiming you as my girlfriend. This isn’t a one-time commercial. This is for a recurring role on a comedy show. If it goes well, that contract could easy span across multiple seasons.”

“Sana, you’ll get breaks,” you whisper, feeling a thick lump develop in your throat.

“I know, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to handle not having you near me.”

When you hear her voice crack, you immediately wrap your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face against the side of hers. “Can we just try?”

“Dahyun, I—”

“I’m not going to do anything but support your decision to leave for Japan,” you mumble against her ear, feeling a pang of guilt at the wetness you feel on your face. “But you can do that without leaving me, too.”

“Please don’t cry,” she begs. “I don’t want to leave you, please don’t think that it’s something I want to do.”

“Then don’t!” You cry out, pulling away to meet her gaze. It’s easy to tell that she’s trying not to let tears come out. “Sana, please. Aren’t we worth trying?”

Her eyebrows narrow, her eyes shining. “Of course we are! Oh my god, of course we are.”

You’re trying not to break. “Then, please…”

With a resolute stare, she nods before leaning in to kiss you. She holds you tightly to her body, and your hands cup the sides of her face as you adjust yourself on her lap, moving to straddle her so that you’re in a better position to kiss her deeply. It’s a kiss that is emotional and, above all else, desperate.

And maybe that’s why it tastes like the beginning of the end.

Sana’s flight to Japan isn’t until after graduation, and so you make the most of the time that you two have. Despite agreeing to move forward with long distance, it only continues to feel sadder. There will be nights when you have nightmares of her ghosting you completely, and there will be other nights when Sana cries after , knowing that the days are numbered. You always end up crying with her.

Chaeyoung, Momo, and Jeongyeon don’t say much on the subject. As much as they love you both, they don’t really know what to offer in terms of help or advice, other than the hope that things will work out with a relationship as strong as yours and Sana’s. One night you text Nayeon about it, and she says that you shouldn’t waste so much time crying. You’ll have plenty of time for that when there’s finally an ocean between you to carry those tears, she says. And you know that she’s right, but the tears come anyway, and you worry that you’re killing your relationship by drowning it before it even has a chance to leave the country.

School becomes a little more difficult in the meantime, if only because your head is so clouded by the anxious thoughts that linger. The only time that you can focus is when you’re playing the piano in one of the music rooms on campus, because if there’s one way that you’ve learned to channel your sadness over a girl, it’s through the piano.

You wonder how Sana would look in a tutu or leotard. Beautiful, no doubt.

The only upside is that Sana tries to come around on weekday nights now, but you make sure that she stops during final exam preparation. You refuse to be the reason she gets rejected for graduation due to some slipped grades. She whines about you being unfair and that she could just study with you, but you always remind her that her hands only have one destination, and that it’s surely not the pencils or a textbook at any given time. She giggles coyly at this whenever you call her out on it, but there’s a sad undertone beneath the surface. You know that she’s just trying to buy more time.

Graduation is simultaneously the worst and best day. Your school happens to be holding it on the same day as Sana’s school, but Momo and Jeongyeon encourage you to attend hers instead. They know how much it – she – means to you.

It's early in the morning when it starts, and early in the afternoon when all is said and done. There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu when you finally find Sana and approach her with your bouquet, and you try not to be too much of a nervous wreck around her parents when you happen to run into them. It’s the first time you’re meeting them, but Sana had already told them a long time ago about her relationship with you. She never met your parents, you realize; they didn’t even know that you were a lesbian, let alone dating. Maybe this is karma for not doing right by her, by coming out. She deserves better.

Her parents seem to like you, if Sana’s proud smile is anything to go by when you interact with them, but something about that makes everything feel a lot harder.

You spend the rest of the day together, given that her flight to Japan is the next day alongside her parents. There’s a fancy restaurant that the two of you had always talked about trying, and you make sure to treat her with the little money that you’ve saved up. She looks beautiful in her dress, and she acts a little bashful throughout the whole night, and you know a part of it is because you wore a suit for her. She really likes when you wear them, to put it lightly. The other part, however, you choose to ignore lest there be any tears spilt over a fancy granite dinner table.

The night is young, and Sana makes sure to do everything in her power to memorize every inch of you. No patch of skin goes unexplored or unmarked.

“You’ll be mine even when I’m gone,” she whispers into your ear at some point, breath hot and mingling its way down to your neck. It’s y, it’s romantic, it’s a combination of words that you want to be truer than anything else, but it’s also overwhelming.

With every release, tears also come out – from both of you.

The morning arrives too fast, and the following months crawl too slowly.

As awful as it is, the tiniest fraction of you had hoped that she wouldn’t land the part, but she aces the audition as easily as her agent had predicted. Japan becomes Sana’s home yet again, and you fight the urge to move there every day.

It feels doable at first, with frequent facetime calls and texts, and even sleeping together at night with webcams on between the two of you – anything to make the other feel less alone. But Sana’s schedule begins to get busier and busier, and she starts losing a lot of the free time that she initially had upon arriving.

You truly try and tough it out as best as you can, but Sana has always been perceptive, and she calls you out on every time that you try to pretend that you’re more okay than you are. And you hate admitting how hard it is without her, because it gives her a chance to say the same, and with every mutual acknowledgment you can practically hear another tick of a bomb’s timer. And you hate it, because each day becomes less about being excited to have a chance to talk to her, and more about the feeling of dread that she’ll break things off when you next talk.

The two of you make it nine months before Sana officially ends it.

She’s crying on the webcam, her eyes pink and bloodshot. Every word out of is something that you want to refute and argue for the sake of saving the relationship, but you can’t help but understand and empathize with everything that she says.

She hates that there isn’t any planned date that the two of you can set up and work toward, because her schedule is busy and unpredictable for the foreseeable future. She hates that she can’t kiss you every morning and every night, let alone all the missed opportunities in between. She hates that it’s obvious how much pain you’re also going through, because of her. She hates that she wakes up every morning without you when all she does is dream of you. But most of all, she hates that she can’t give you the love that she feels that you deserve.

You hate that all you can do is mumble out a simple “me too” each time, with a trembling mouth and cheeks that feel raw and wet from sobbing.

The rest of the call is mainly quiet and sprinkled with tearful, hiccuping reassurances that one person does, in fact, still love the other – that it had nothing to do with no longer loving the other person. You wish that was the case. Maybe then it’d be easier.

There really isn’t much left to say. Sana tells you that work will continue to be busy, but that it’s up to you if you want to continue communicating with her. She promises that she’ll always reply when she can, should you choose to talk to her in the future. You tell her that it goes both ways, but a part of you hopes that she’ll never contact you again.

Another part hopes that she’ll take everything back by morning.

She doesn’t.
 

Twenty-Four.

“Here.”

You raise an eyebrow, grabbing your phone from Chaeyoung. “What did you do?”

“Made you a dating profile,” she answers while you take the time to flick through the pictures she’s chosen for you. “You need to get out there.”

You gawk. “You don’t even have one of these and you’ve never had a serious relationship. Why don’t you make yourself one?”

“In my case, I believe that it’ll happen naturally,” she defends. “In your case, even if you don’t meet the love of your life on there, I just need you to get out and do something because you won’t, otherwise. I’ll sit in all the coffee shops both here and in the city by the time you make a move to find someone new on your own.”

She doesn’t care that you blatantly ignore her. “These pictures are more your taste than mine,” you comment in a grumble, rolling your eyes at some of her choices. She even put in a photo of you trying to draw, which is a picture from her phone. “This isn’t authentically me.”

She laughs. “Okay, then change the pictures. The point is that you have one at all.”

You hum, looking through it.

Kim Dahyun, 24
All you need to know is that I love music and chocolate milk.
My true love is probably playing the piano.
Please prove me wrong.

Your face contorts at the bio. “This is .”

“Then change it. It’s just a placeholder.” She shrugs, continuing to read her book on her armchair.

The two of you are back home now, artists looking for work in different fields. Given that you’re at Chaeyoung’s house, Momo would come over too if it weren’t for her teaching in the city nowadays. She always nudges you and tells you that she’ll give you and Chaeyoung free lessons if it means visiting her more often, but you haven’t been up for anything like that in a while.

You sigh as your thumb hovers over the editor’s box for the profile, unsure of what to write in place of what Chaeyoung already put. There’s no way that you’re going to keep this, but figuring out what to say is really hard when you’ve only got five-hundred characters to use.

A notification pings and you almost drop your phone in shock when you realize from the banner that it’s regarding a direct message within the app.

You’re confused. “Chaeng, aren’t these apps based on mutual swipes?”

“Yeah,” she answers casually, nose in her book.

“Then how am I getting a message already?”

She looks to your phone and smiles. “Wow, really?! Must be one of the girls I swiped.”

“You swiped people for me?!” In this moment, you swear revenge on Son Chaeyoung.

As she turns back to her book, she mumbles, “It’s not like you were going to.”

It takes you a minute before you can summon the courage to look at your inbox, but you eventually manage to get yourself together.

Jihyo
Hey! Your bio made me smile lol it matches your face somehow

You blush, despite not quite knowing if the latter part is a compliment or not. “Chaeng!”

“What did she say?”

“She says that the bio you wrote matches my face.”

Chaeyoung giggles, putting the book down. “See? You can always trust your best friend to know you that well.”

You groan. “What do I say?!”

“It’s just one girl, relax.” Chaeyoung slides off the couch, joining you on the floor. She leans against you, peeking over at the message. “Just say hi back and ask.”

Dahyun
Hi! Thank you lol, I hope that’s a good thing?

“You should check out her pictures,” Chaeyoung suggests after you reply. “I’m kind of surprised that she is your first response. She’s super pretty.”

You squint at her. “Implying that super pretty girls can’t like me?”

“Well,” is all that Chaeyoung says, laughing when you playfully smack her shoulder. “Come on, you deserve the best. There are girls out there! This app is specifically for lesbians.”

As she talks, you allow yourself to take a peek at the girl’s profile. Chaeyoung was right about her being really pretty, so much so that you blush a little at a picture of her with a sunset in the background.

Park Jihyo, 25
Hey! I’m looking to meet fun and interesting
people who also won’t mind marathoning
Marvel movies with me on a rainy day (:
I love singing, and flowers (this is all a ruse
so that I can get someone to bring me
flowers like in the cheesy romance movies)

“Look, she’s as corny as you,” Chaeyoung says with a nod.

“You’re the one that wrote my bio! Not me!”

Chaeyoung imitates a chef’s kiss. “And was it not perfect?”

“Age has made you worse.”

“I love you, too.”

You quickly flick back to your inbox again when you receive another ping.

Jihyo
Definitely (: Anyone that makes me smile or laugh has to be good.

Maybe Chaeyoung is right. Maybe you need to get out there. At the very least, it’ll be nice to have someone new to talk to. This Jihyo girl is beautiful, and worth at least a little of your time – maybe even some of your money, if you play your cards right and snag a dinner opportunity.

Although, you ignore the dull pain in your chest when you recall that you’ve only ever truly gone on real dates with one other girl before.

It'd be nice to say differently.

≻≺

You have never been as nervous to meet someone as you are to meet Park Jihyo.

There’s something to be said about a girl that texts like a cute dork yet tells stories that make her sound like an absolute powerhouse of a woman. She seems like the type to be able to take charge when needed, and – as hot as it may be – she is apparently super fit because she is constantly going to the gym. You’ve shamelessly outlined her arms with your eyes on the rare occasion that she sent you a selfie from a fitness center.

It's kind of nice that she has never been super flirty. She’s kind and fun to talk to, and this meeting feels more like the real test for possible compatibility than any of your texts have. But if nothing else, she seems to enjoy talking to you as well. After all, you both continuously message one another every day, and you feel proud of yourself for being able to hold conversation.

You’re patiently waiting at a café table, fiddling with a small bouquet in your hands after you had received a message not too long ago about her being nearby. You debated on getting a drink in advance, but Jeongyeon’s voice in the back of your head reminds you to wait until both parties are present.

The bell on the door rings, signaling an incoming customer, and you straighten up in your seat at the sight of a familiar face. You can only hope that you are prettier in person in the same way that she is, because you can’t help but think, wow.

“Dahyun?” Her voice perfectly fits her personality somehow, despite the fact that you had no expectations to begin with. You stand up to greet her, thankful when she initiates the hug first. “It’s nice to meet you finally! It’s been what, a month?”

“Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “I’m sorry, it’s been kind of hectic. Looking for work can be rough.” She nods sympathetically, taking the chance to remove her black blazer and place it behind the chair. Her gray turtleneck is just as nice without it. You slide the bouquet to her side of the table carefully. “This is for you.”

“Oh my god!” Her laugh has a genuine sincerity to it that you immediately like. “Is this because of my profile?”

A chuckle escapes you. “Yeah. It’s probably a good habit.”

“And to think they say that romance is dead,” Jihyo jokes, eliciting a smile from you while she takes the seat across the table. “Did you order anything yet?”

“Nope. I wanted to wait for you first.”

She grins; it’s the wide type. “Very sweet of you.”

“I aim to please.” You make a mental note to thank Jeongyeon later.

“Well, so do I.” Jihyo smirks a little, grabbing her handbag. “Since I suggested that we go out, let me pay.”

“We can split if you want,” you offer, trying not to blush. Between the handbag and the wallet, it’s evident that Jihyo is carrying expensive material.

She waves her hand once in a simple refusal. “I insist. We can split next time.”

Next time, you repeat the words in your head. It’s a surprisingly heavy weight off of your shoulders to know that Jihyo is convinced enough by your character to want to go out again for whatever reason.

“Do you have anything in particular that you like to get here?” Jihyo asks, before leaning in a little. “Chocolate milk, maybe?”

You laugh. “Honestly, I could go for one any time of the day. I just want to look a little more sophisticated around you.”

“Please,” Jihyo says with a snort. “I’ve sent you pictures of me looking like a mess at the gym. We’re past that point.”

You try not to remember too much detail. “Your turtleneck and blazer are screaming sophisticated to me!”

She grins. “I choose to take that as a compliment, so thank you. It’s just because I came out of a meeting. Otherwise I’d go with a flannel or something. You know, as one does.”

“Sure, I’ll pretend that you didn’t dress up just to impress me.” You think that both Nayeon and Jeongyeon would be really proud of you right now. In fact, you’re a little proud of yourself. It’s easy to joke around with Jihyo. She shakes her head at you, but her smile remains. “You can just surprise me. I’ll actually take you up on the chocolate milk if you won’t judge me for it.”

“You brought me flowers, so you get a free ticket.” Jihyo gets up and walks over to the counter to order, occasionally looking back to wave at you while she waits for the food and drinks.

“Oh hey, I love these,” you say after a few minutes have passed, and she has brought a plate of dasik. As promised, she also places a popular brand of chocolate milk in front of you.

“I hope this is okay. They said that they wouldn’t serve milk into plastic for some reason because they already had these premade bottles on the shelf.” Jihyo shifts into her chair, placing an americano down on the table.

You nod, twisting the cap on the glass bottle. “That’s okay! This brand tastes good.”

Neither of you are willing to wait that long before diving straight into the cookies, and Jihyo even tries to feed you one. You take it, of course, but you can’t help but whine when she laughs at your blush.

“It’s cute!”

“We’re meeting for the first time today and you’re already teasing me!”

“You made fun of me for admiring Thor, so…”

You chuckle. “It’s more than just admiration for you, isn’t it?”

“There you go again!” Jihyo scolds, though she breaks into a laugh.

You mainly make light conversation, and you try to follow Jeongyeon’s dating rulebook by having Jihyo talk about herself as much as possible. However, she makes this both easy and difficult, because Jihyo takes every cue to say something about herself just as easily as she is able to turn the spotlight back on you. You briefly wonder if she’s not only an attendee of her meetings, but the primary head. She knows how to steer a conversation, and you’re beginning to think that maybe your messages were only ever as conversational as they were because she’s just that good.

You find out that she is an assistant at a production company’s recording studio, but that her main interest is singing. She thinks that she could grab a chance to make her own music after a few years of building connections and important career relationships, and she says that it always helps to know one’s way around a studio in advance.

At one point, she smiles and says that she can probably find someone who needs a composer like yourself. It feels like way too big of an offer to accept, especially since you haven’t known one another that long, but she insists that she’ll try, so long as she remembers.

There isn’t a lot of personal details that get thrown out right away. She does get curious enough to ask about the number of relationships that you’ve had, but she doesn’t pry at all when you merely answer with “one” and no further details. She shares that she’s had three without giving any names, but that the first barely counts because it was when she was twelve and it was with some goofy boy from her neighborhood. The second was apparently some girl from high school, who she chuckles over because, apparently, she went to your university. The third was an office fling with a fellow female intern at the first place she had worked at.

“You’ve got solid experience, it seems.” You try to make a persuasive expression, which mainly consists of smugly twisting your features until she laughs. “Show me your ways.”

“Hey, having one partner can be enough, too. It’s not a competition out here.” She smiles, pushing the last cookie toward you.

“It can be a little intimidating.” You say, pushing the cookie back in her direction.

She raises an eyebrow, not really missing a beat. “Is the dating scene something you don’t feel ready for still?”

You pause for a moment, considering your words. “I think it’s just that I’m at a point where, if I don’t force myself to get out there, then maybe I will never allow myself to. I get so scared because I feel like I never know what I’m doing.”

“What got you onto the app then?” Jihyo asks, sliding the cookie across the plate again.

You giggle at the memory. “My best friend made it, actually. She also wrote my bio, which was why your initial message was funny to me, especially as the first person to come into my inbox. She joked that she just knew me so well.”

Jihyo nods along to your words, showing that she’s listening as she keeps eye contact. “And you asked to be on it or did your friend make it without asking?”

“The latter.”

She laughs. “Classic best friend stuff, am I right?”

“For sure.” You smile, taking the cookie and splitting it in half. You slide a piece toward Jihyo, and she finally eats it with a wide grin. “But you’re really nice, and I’m glad that we started talking. You’ve been super refreshing to talk to every day.”

Jihyo eyes you for a long moment, though you can’t discern her expression whatsoever. Instead, you blush under her scrutiny. “Can I try something? It would involve you standing up.”

You nod, not really hesitating to get up on your feet. Jihyo gets out of her chair too, meeting you at almost the same level.

She smiles. “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse me? We’re meeting for the first time.”

You’re vaguely concerned that she’s giggling. “If it makes you uncomfortable, then that’s fine. But there’s a purpose to it.”

“O-Okay. Sure?”

“Great,” is all that Jihyo says before cupping the sides of your face. She gives you a reassuring nod before you close your eyes, and it’s only seconds before she gently presses her lips against yours. It’s only now, in the middle of noting the cherry flavor of her lip gloss, that you even register that you’re in a public setting, and you fight the immediate reflex to push her away. That would be rude.

She pulls away, looking at you all too casually with a confident smirk. “Did you feel anything?”

“Your mouth.” It’s all you can really think to say.

She seems to swallow a laugh. “That sounds about right.”

You frown. “What?”

“Either you’re not ready to date at all, or there’s nothing but platonic feelings between us.”

“What?” You’re not sure that you’re following.

“I was the first girl that messaged you when you made the app. I happen to be nice and pretty, so it felt like a safe bet to try, right?”

“I don’t think of you as a safe—”

She chuckles, putting a finger to your lips. “No, listen. If you didn’t feel butterflies or any kind of spark of excitement, then you don’t have any feelings for me. My high school girlfriend had the same thing with me, but we both learned our lesson after that, I think.”

You’ve only ever had two other kisses in your life, and both definitely had the type of feeling that Jihyo describes. “Oh…”

“You’re so cute,” Jihyo comments, leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek before returning to her seat. You can’t help but feel like a lot is happening at once, but maybe that’s just the type of energy that Jihyo has. But then you feel an inkling of worry.

You blink, turning to her slowly. “Did you feel something from me?”

She makes an X shape with her arms. “Nothing.”

“Well, there goes my ego,” you joke with a sigh.

“Keep it,” she says with a grin as she tilts her americano into . “You’re a really nice person, both in general and to talk to. I wasn’t kidding about wanting to meet with you more.”

You smile. “Great, because I’d like to hang out with you, too. I really do enjoy talking to you.”

“For the record, you are actually really cute and pretty,” Jihyo adds.

“And for the record, I’ve definitely been into those gym pictures that you’ve sent.”

“Ha!” Jihyo laughs, half-evilly and half-sincerely. “My trap worked! The gym photos always work.”

“Your confidence reminds me of my high school crush.” You smile, wondering if you should introduce Nayeon to Jihyo, simply because the thought of the two of them being in the same room is something that you suddenly really want to see.

“Confidence is attractive, you know,” Jihyo states with a satisfied smile.

“Oh my god, you even have the same advice as her.”

“Is she pretty?”

You nod, taking a moment to show a picture of Nayeon from your phone. “She only likes guys, though.”

Jihyo chuckles, feigning disappointment with an exaggerated snap of her fingers. “Damn, there goes my life plan!”

Retracting your arm, you minimize Nayeon’s picture and briefly skim through your photo gallery, hovering over the home button just before seeing a photo. You smirk a little, maximizing the photo and showing it to Jihyo.

“How about her?” You ask, feeling an aura of mischief surround you when you see that she nods.

Jihyo’s eyebrows rise, and you notice that her ears turn pink. “She’s single and she likes women?”

“Yes and, technically, yes.”

You can’t help but love the smug eyes that Jihyo shoots your way as she asks, “What’s her name, now-good-friend of mine?”

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

“Her name is Chaeyoung.”
 

Twenty-Six.

You can’t help but smile as familiar arms envelop you as soon as you walk into the studio.

“Why are you here?!” Momo’s eyes are b with happiness and surprise.

Taking a step back, you look around the practice room. “So, this is your new space, right? It looks bigger than the last one.”

“Definitely.” Momo turns, admiring the room for a moment. “I can have bigger classes in here, too. It might mean that I get a little more out of my paycheck, which is always a plus.” She looks back at you and grins. “Are you here to tell me that you’re taking one of my dance classes?”

“Me?” You snort. “In your dreams.”

“Why don’t you want to dance with me?” There’s a whine and a huff that comes out of , and you gently squish her face until she chuckles. “But seriously, what’s up? I doubt you’re just stopping by.”

“Hey, I resent that,” you say, pointing a finger. “I would definitely come just to stop by.”

“Sure.” Momo chuckles, clearly unconvinced. She splits her legs until she reaches the floor, allowing herself to take a seat. “What’s up, then?”

“Weird flex, but alright.” You make your way onto the floor as well, like a normal person. “Anyway, Chaeng wanted us to go on a double date with her and Jihyo this weekend. They discovered a really nice bar, apparently.”

Momo raises an eyebrow. “Double date? You’re still not seeing anyone?”

“No.” You realize it’s been about half a year since you last saw Momo. Work has been hectic ever since Jihyo got you a job at her recording studio; you’re as passionate as ever, but you haven’t had as much time to socialize outside of work for a long time. You smile at Momo, reaching over and patting her leg. “Wouldn’t matter since Chaeng is mainly just interested in two of her best friends coming and is using that as an excuse. Either way, you’re clearly the best possible date I could bring anyway, so…”

She laughs. “You bet I am.”

Saturday comes relatively quickly, and Momo makes sure to arrive at your house in a taxi with enough time to spare, in case of traffic. After all, there’s a light drizzle outside. You make sure to run to the car once you’ve exited the house, and you put your umbrella down by your feet once you slip in beside Momo in the back.

“Rain ,” you comment as the driver turns the key, and you look over to Momo. She’s wearing a sleeveless crop top and jeans, and you try not to let your eyes wander for too long around her abdomen.

“You can say that again,” she mumbles. Her lips pout ever so slightly when she’s lost in thought, and you chuckle. She glances at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Your face looks really cute right now.”

Her concentration breaks enough to smirk a little, eyes turning to the view outside her window as the rain slides down the pane. “Doesn’t it always?”

“Maybe,” you say with an eyeroll – not that she sees it, though. She seems content with that answer, smiling victoriously to herself while she reaches to turn up the radio’s volume in the back. Summer vibes seem to pour through the speakers, compensating for the rain hitting the windows. At least it’s warm out.

When you get to the bar, you can see why Chaeyoung and Jihyo really wanted to go. Tucked into a pretty corner of the city by the marina, it’s a large and spacious building that even has an outdoor area for a beer garden. The floor-to-ceiling windows are large and arched, reminding you of cliché lofts from American movies. The walls are made with brownish brick, and large picnic-style tables line up on one half of the building where they seem to serve a variety of snack and finger foods. The area by the large bar is a little more open, with room to dance in the warm, dimly lit atmosphere of the establishment. There are hanging plants, flowers, and other various flora around the large space.

After some searching, the two of you make your way to Chaeyoung and Jihyo, who are already seated at one of the long tables.

“Isn’t it nice?” Chaeyoung asks once you and Momo take a seat across from them. You look around once more and nod, deciding that it is, indeed, a nice aesthetic.

“The ambiance is cool,” Momo says, and Chaeyoung grins, nudging Jihyo beside her.

“See? I told you, it’s all about the ambiance.”

Jihyo smiles. “It does have a cool atmosphere to it. Although, I admit that I’m mainly interested in the drinks.”

You nod, tilting your head to Jihyo as though you were tipping a hat. “Agreed. I was promised drinks.”

“You were.” Chaeyoung raises an eyebrow. “You’re still paying for your own, though. I don’t do charity work.”

Momo snickers from beside you, and you gently shove her leg with your own knee from the side.

“Some date you are. Laughing at me already?” You say, trying to act tough but ultimately doing a bad job of trying not to laugh.

Momo wraps an arm around you, leaning in and whispering into your ear, “Like you said, I’m the best date around.” She continues to snicker as she pulls back, and you hope it isn’t because she saw your face go through multiple shades of crimson.

You soon realize that you aren’t used to Momo or Jihyo when they’re drunk. The last time you were around Momo and alcoholic beverages, you were fifteen and you’re pretty sure that you had completely tuned everything out that night. But she gets clingier, leaning into you and wrapping her arms around you, and sometimes is a little too close to your skin when she leans in to talk.

Jihyo easily drinks everyone under the table, and she only gets louder, which is a feat in and of itself. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if everyone in the building knew what you were all talking about at any given moment. But she mainly wants to dance, and Chaeyoung seems to be very enthused about making use of the opportunity. They make their way to the dance floor, and it’s kind of nice to see Jihyo’s bright smile and Chaeyoung’s dimpled grin directed almost exclusively at one another for the majority of the night.

You’re easily the least inebriated, though only due to allowing yourself a single cup of beer. Your tolerance is, frankly, abysmal and going further is a recipe for potential disaster.  But everything is warm and somehow light and heavy all at once, and you figure that you’re in a good place.

Despite her clinginess, Momo doesn’t seem too bad either. Her words are coherent and put together, although you can often see through her face the way that the cogs in her brain start to move before replying to anything.

“Dahyun,” she says suddenly at one point, her fingers poking around a plate of chips that she bought for the two of you to share.

“Yeah?”

Momo takes a long pause, going as far as to eat a chip in the meantime, before continuing. “Are you over Sana?”

Despite the minor throb in your chest, you’re confident that you can say, “Yes. I am.”

“That’s good.” She nods to herself, getting another chip.

“Why do you ask?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time.” She shrugs. “I just don’t get how you can still be single.”

“Aw.” You chuckle, rubbing Momo’s back for a moment. She leans into the touch a bit, resting her head on your shoulder. “Are you calling me a catch?”

“An understatement.”

You try not to linger too much on that. “You haven’t been in a serious relationship either, Momo. You’ve technically been single for much longer. You’re more than a catch, so what’s that about?”

She freezes up for a moment, quick enough that you almost miss it. “It’s complicated.”

“In what way?”

“I liked this girl for a while, thinking that she would notice me like that. Turns out, she went a long time without even knowing I could be an option. And then something happened, and I’m not sure if it’s okay anymore to even hope. But I still…” Her voice trails off as she lets out a heavy sigh.

There’s a palpable shift in the air as you slowly register her words. If it hadn’t been for the second thing she said, you would probably chalk it up to general vagueness. But it feels a little too specific, a little too familiar. And the nerves eat at you, even as you rub her back, and there’s a gurgling desire to figure out if it means what you think it means.

You gently push her away, holding onto her shoulders so that you can meet her eyes. Your heart begins to race, and for some reason you feel like you’re only really seeing Momo for the first time right now.

You ask, “Is it me?”

Her eyes are pools of nonverbal affirmations as she stares back at you, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, brow furrowed as you continuously fight the urge to look away. Her gaze is intense, half-lidded and full of years’ worth of something you never considered.

She shrugs, surprisingly casual about it despite how tired she looks. “High school was a bad time because I didn’t want to push myself onto you when you were trying to figure things out. I thought you at least knew about me liking girls, though, so that was also a hit when I found out in college that you thought I had been straight.” She snorts. “You started spending more time with Jeongyeon, which I thought was going somewhere at first, but it didn’t. And then Sana…”

You freeze. “Sana’s… your best friend. D-Did she know?”

Momo’s immediate laugh is sad more than anything. “No. She wouldn’t have pursued you if she knew.”

“Wow,” you mumble. It’s a little overwhelming to think that your relationship with Sana could have never happened if Momo had simply confided in someone about a crush she had.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, her lips beginning to tremble a bit. You blink rapidly as you realize that she’s beginning to cry, and you pull her into a tight hug. “I always put being your friend above everything else, I swear,” she mumbles into your neck. You glance over at Jihyo and Chaeyoung, who still seem lost in their own world while you find yourself in a new one altogether, digesting Momo’s words.

Momo is anything but a deceitful individual. When she says that she has prioritized being your friend since day one, you believe her. It only takes the knowledge of her being the very first person to know about a secret that ultimately changed your life, to assure you that she means it. She was always there, at a respectful distance that would close the second that you needed it.

“Don’t apologize,” you whisper, her hair. “I know that you care about me.”

I care about you, too, you think, though you hate yourself for not thinking about this sooner. It feels delayed and frustrating, like many of your earliest instances in this world of incredible girls. Had Momo merely been another repressed peg on a board of fear? Did it never click because, like with Chaeyoung, you wanted to value your friendship above anything else? Had it been because Momo was always “Chaeyoung’s friend” and therefore untouchable, unthinkable? Had it been that having an established friend with mutual feelings seemed like a farfetched idea since you were four? Was it because Momo is simply Momo, and there’s nothing worth pursuing if it means taking the risk of losing her, like you had with Sana?

The music in the building has a deep beat that shakes the place, making its way into your chest and doing little to help your heart in figuring out what to do. It doesn’t help that you’re tipsy, you think, because you definitely feel some kind of urge to do something a little reckless.

“I tried to meet new people,” she admits, the vibrations against your neck the only indicator that you should focus on her quieter words. “I’ll keep trying. I promise, I’m trying.”

“Momo, I—”

“Bathroom. I’ll be right back,” she says suddenly, cutting you off and practically ejecting herself from the bench. You blink at her retreating figure as she heads toward the restrooms, and you immediately dig into your pocket and whip out your phone.

“Hello?” A familiar voice answers once you’ve rung the desired number.

“Jeong,” you sigh with relief. She always answers. “I need help.”

“Hi to you too, kid.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not a kid. Anyway, Momo just confessed to me and I need help.”

Jeongyeon snorts on the other end of the line. “About time, jeez.”

“You knew?!”

“Momo and I are also friends, you know.” You can almost see the mocking smile in her voice. “What’s the problem? Not into her?”

You blush. “No, that’s not—”

“Okay, well, there’s your answer.”

“Jeong! I’m a little intoxicated, I need you to give me time to finish.”

She pauses. “You’re drunk?”

“Tipsy. I’m fine, just a little slower.”

“Is Momo drunk?”

“She’s either drunk or pretty tipsy.”

“Yikes. Well, at least she’s finally saying something.”

“I don’t know what to do. I never, like, considered it before. Not because Momo isn’t insanely attractive or awesome or anything—”

“Whipped.”

“—but I’ve always just assumed we were just friends. I don’t know. It’s weird. Now that I’m thinking about it for the first time, I don’t hate it? But if I never thought about it before, isn’t it wrong to suddenly care about the thought just because she mentioned it? Doesn’t that seem overly convenient? Won’t she think that I’m using her? I—”

“You’re panicking. Relax.” You take a deep breath, letting her talk. “The last time you had feelings for a friend-friend, it was your best friend and you chose to keep it to yourself. And that girl ended up being biual, so there really is no way of knowing what could’ve happened because you never took that chance. Dates are dates, right? If it works out, then it works out. You don’t have to call her your girlfriend right now or profess your love.”

“So you’re saying I should go for it?” You glance up at Jihyo and Chaeyoung, who seem to be making their way back.

“If you want to give it a chance, you can. You don’t have to be in love to shoot your shot. This is Momo we’re talking about. If you decide that you’re not feeling it, then she’ll respect it and she may even get some closure for once.” You nod along with her words, and she continues again after a pause. “If you think that Momo would ever walk away just because you didn’t want to be her girlfriend, then you’re an idiot, Dahyun.”

Her words settle in your head. “Thank you.”

“No problem, idiot.” The smile is evident in her tone. “Anything else?”

Chaeyoung and Jihyo reclaim their seats across from you, looking very drunk in love in the way that their bodies practically clink together like champagne glasses, bubbling with fun and sweating off a good time.

“I’ve got to go, but that really helped. Thanks, Jeong.”

“Sure! Bye, kiddo.”

You grumble something unintelligible into the phone before hanging up, surprised when you look back to Jihyo, whose expression toward you is almost suspicious.

“Who were you on the phone with?” she asks.

“Oh.” You put your phone away. “My friend Jeongyeon. You don’t know her, she’s mainly a friend from college.”

Jihyo opens as though to say something, but she opts to shake her head and return to giving Chaeyoung the biggest kiss on the cheek. Chaeyoung’s giggle make you smile, as always.

Momo comes back but doesn’t sit down. “I’m going to head out.”

Chaeyoung makes a disgruntled sound, half-whining. “Why? You didn’t even dance with me yet!”

“I’m sorry,” Momo apologizes, glancing to you momentarily before bowing her head again to everyone. “Goodnight.”

She doesn’t wait for anyone to say anything back to her, and you feel as though your eyes are throbbing as you watch her swiftly turn and walk away.

“What was that about?” Jihyo asks, looking between you and Chaeyoung.

“No idea,” Chaeyoung answers. She looks to you. “Did something happen while we were dancing?”

“Yes and no.” You don’t tear your eyes away from Momo’s retreating figure, but you still hear Chaeyoung’s question. “Not yet,” you mumble, quickly getting up and bowing your head to your two friends. “I’m sorry, I’m going to go make sure she gets home okay.”

Neither Chaeyoung or Jihyo try to stop you, despite how worried they look. You can only hope that they’ll continue to have a good night amongst themselves. The establishment is really nice, after all, and they did seem to be having a lot of fun beforehand.

You whip out your umbrella as soon as you step outside, finding Momo in front of the building.

“Hey,” you say loudly as you walk up to her, grabbing her attention. “Waiting on your taxi?” You try not to bump your umbrella against hers too much.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Can I also get a ride?”

She looks down at you, meeting your semi-wide, pleading eyes. “Are you really going to give me that look?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

“As always.”

The next few minutes are filled with silence, with droplets of rain against canopies being the only sound to break through the tension. The taxi eventually comes, and both of you slide in without a word before you take the liberty of closing the small window between the driver’s seat and the backseat.

The silence continues for a while, though it easily feels like an hour. You didn’t really think about the fact that Momo’s apartment is the closest, and even that is a half hour drive through the city on a rainy night.

She doesn’t look at you at all, but she doesn’t have any obvious expression on her face from what you can see. There is only a pout again, so you know that she is thinking – probably too much, just like you. Maybe she’s recalling everything that she said, perhaps in an effort to figure out how she can take it all back on account of being under the influence of alcohol. She didn’t even say anything worth regretting. Hell, she even cried about assuring you that she had been trying for so long to find someone else.

You mull that over.

“Momo,” you say softly with a sigh. She hums in response, prompting you to continue. “Stop trying.”

She turns to you then, looking confused and a bit hurt. “What?”

Your eyes widen, and you blush. “I-I mean, um! Sorry. The last thing you were talking to me about before you went to the bathroom, it was about trying to look for new people.” You try to ground yourself by squeezing at the leather of the seat with your fingers. You look away from her, your voice cracking. “Stop trying.”

“What are you saying?” Her voice is quiet and hesitant, and you can’t find it in yourself to meet her eyes, afraid to see how vulnerable they are. If you do, you worry that you might run from this.

“Try me,” you shyly squeak out, feeling an immediate wave of embarrassment at the way that the words sound out of your mouth. It’s a little corny, even for you, but it’s all you can think to say.

The pattered rain against the window is the only sound for what feels like minutes. There is no movement or words that follow out of the gate, and the only other noise you can cling to is the faint sound of the driver’s old rock music playing at the front end of the car.

It begins to feel like a mistake, until you feel an achingly familiar hand resting atop yours. You turn your head toward it, looking at the way that Momo’s hand fits perfectly over yours upon the leather seat, between the two of you.

“Is that what you want?” Her voice is soft but unwavering, and you find the courage to look up at her. She isn’t smiling, nor is she frowning, but her pupils seem to shake as they search through your eyes – for honesty, maybe.

It’s hard to look at Momo without seeing someone wonderful. She’s fun, warm, easy to talk to, insanely caring, talented, beautiful, and to say that she is someone worth knowing feels like an understatement. She puts her friends first, even those she barely knows yet. From day one, you had trusted her, and she kept something safe for you when you did nothing to earn it. She brings you comfort and safety just by being around you, and it’s like a sigh of relief whenever you see her.

When Sana had ended things, Momo had been in pain too. Her best friend could no longer be an active part of her life, at least in the way that she had always been. But Momo continued to take care of you. She never complained about having lost a friend when all you did was complain about losing a lover. She made sure to keep you busy with constant movie nights and hangouts, and she often treated you to dinner on particularly bad days when you would go without eating until she forced you out of your dorm. Sana never wanted to leave anyone, and she certainly couldn’t be blamed for making that decision, but it still hurt to know that she could never be a normal part of either of your lives anymore.

In retrospect, you can’t help but feel a little selfish. And you know that if you voiced this, Momo would say that you’re anything but. But, Damn, you think. I’m an idiot.

Momo had never felt like an option. And maybe it was for one of many possible reasons, psychological or otherwise. But, as you hold her gaze, you can’t help but wonder now if there were ever any other options to begin with.

“I want to try,” you say softly, kind of distracted by the intensity of her stare. It reminds you of a face you had been trying not to think about for years – so much so that you gave up on watching live television – and flashes of painful memories act as a strobe light in the back of your head. “I don’t want things to end with us getting hurt, though.”

Her other hand reaches up to cup the side of your face, and her eyes flicker to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You feel nervous, so you joke. “Ma’am, are you asking for a kiss when we haven’t even been on a date?”

Her eyes meet yours again, a playful smirk on her lips. “I think we’ve had plenty.” Her voice is uncharacteristically low, and it taps on an old sensation that you haven’t felt in a few years. The air feels thicker.

“Okay.” Your voice cracks again, and you wish God would just smite you right now.

Momo smiles just a little before leaning in, leaving no space for any more words. Her breath is warm as she catches your lips between hers, and there’s a lingering taste of a fruity cocktail on . You feel a little dizzy, and you blame it on the alcohol’s residual effects on your body. Your chest roars while butterflies roam throughout the inner cage of your torso, and you curse the fact that you two are in a taxi right now. She tilts her head against yours, bumping against your nose briefly. You turn your hand over beneath hers on the seat, and you gently grasp her palm in order to brace yourself.

But it doesn’t get any deeper, and she pulls away after a few seconds. You open your eyes, no doubt blushing as you meet Momo’s bashful face.

“I’m not Sana,” she whispers, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. “I’m here, regardless of what happens. And I’m going to stay.”

“I’m here.” The memory is eleven years old, but it’s vivid and it wraps its arms around you on a stranger’s couch. It keeps you safe.

The car slows to a stop, and you look past Momo, seeing through her window that you have reached her street.

You look back to her, finding it hard to speak. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you’ll come up to my apartment,” she suggests. She giggles when your face reddens. “We can talk and hang out.” She bites her lip (if it’s on purpose, then you might have to scold her later) before adding, “We could also kiss more, too, if you want.”

You gulp, reminding yourself that maybe it’s okay to take risks, to take chances.

“I’ll come up to your apartment.”

≻≺

Momo makes you the happiest that you’ve ever been, and sometimes it really throws you for a loop when you think too long about how much time passed before you inevitably started seeing one another.

She likes to tell you that it happened the way that it was always meant to, but she’ll whine sometimes when you about all the years that you could’ve spent kissing by now.

Thankfully, you now have four years of kissing Hirai Momo under your belt.

A lot has happened in that time.

Chaeyoung and Jihyo didn’t really wait too long before getting married, but they don’t believe in grandiose celebrations, so they had kept it very small. This, of course, sparked an insane coincidence when you found Jeongyeon at the wedding reception without prior notice. You had never really gotten a chance to have Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung properly hang out before, so it came as a major shock to you when you found out that Jeongyeon was supposedly the same girl that Jihyo had dated in high school.

You drank a lot that night.

There’s a relatively new pet shelter in the city, and Momo had insisted on getting not one, but three dogs. She has been allergic to dogs for the entirety of her life, but you quickly learned that she is much more obsessed with pets than you ever realized – the girl has had some long-term plans about having a family with lots of pets, apparently. Although three seemed excessive, Momo’s big eyes are always hard to refuse (and she knows it). Plus, you were a little too distracted to debate over it when the receptionist at the shelter had a nametag with “Tzuyu” on it, a name that you hadn’t seen anywhere aside from when you were little.

Momo was encouraging, of course, when you told her in a panicked whisper that the receptionist could very well be the same girl who you believe started you down your path of, well, appreciating women. Momo also reminded you that Nayeon would be very disappointed if you didn’t at least try and talk to the receptionist, and you relented.

Your smile was soft when you approached the girl and realized that she was timid, not unlike the daycare girl you once knew. But something about her seemed stronger, although it is possible that the illusion only seemed that way due to her intense height and perfect posture. You couldn’t help but wonder, even for a moment, what her life must have been like on the day she had left, and if she ever thought about you afterward.

Her eyes had widened a bit when you mentioned the name of the center you had stayed at as a child, and a lot of unconscious weight lifted off of you when she grinned and said that she did, in fact, remember you. She explained that she had no knowledge of her parents wanting to move, and that she was surprised that you would remember her.

“And Gucci?” You had asked, your frown widening when she shook her head. You told her that you understood, and that you had lost Ari a long time ago as well. She said that Gucci had lived a long life, and that she actually still possessed one of your pictures of Ari that you had brought to daycare but forgot to bring home before she had moved. You laughed and told her that it was fitting, seeing as Ari was mainly in your life because of her influence.

“I’m the reason you got him?” Tzuyu had asked, not without another small smile. It’s interesting to think of how many people there are in the world who have no idea whose lives they’ve touched, and in what way. But the knowledge seemed to make her happy, and you weren’t sure what else to say until Momo came to your side, asking about the Jack Russel Terriers that she wanted.

Tzuyu had said that she continued to love animals, informing you that she and a friend of hers co-owned the shelter that you had chosen, surprisingly enough. She just happened to prefer working upfront so that she could see the animals whenever they came in and out.

It was serendipitous in its own way, and you have Momo to thank. She even convinced you to summon the courage to ask for Tzuyu’s number, which you were surprised to receive as easily as you had.

And it wasn’t the only time that something like that had happened after you two got together.

As a part of Momo’s job at the dance studio, she is often asked to attend performances and auditions of different kinds, either to observe or to help direct.

One time, you had gone out with her to see a show that her studio had helped in directing. She claimed that she didn’t have much part in it, because apparently it wasn’t really her genre, but that the studio still offered her a couple of tickets. Frankly, you don’t believe in saying no to free tickets for a show that is typically expensive, and so it took very little convincing to get you to go. You didn’t think much of it when Momo had mentioned that it would be ballet.

Which is why, when you had looked through your playbill and saw the name “Myoui Mina” next to a photo of a girl with a distantly familiar gummy smile, you couldn’t help but be completely shocked.

You had nudged Momo – much to the annoyance of the people behind you – and tried to quietly tell her that the girl in the photo was the same girl who had told you that she’d marry you when you were six.

Momo had raised an eyebrow. “Am I fighting for your hand in marriage now, is that what you’re telling me?”

Although the overall show was intended to be more on the dramatic side anyway, a part of you hadn’t been able to hold back silent tears whenever Mina came onto the stage, a strikingly beautiful and elegant figure that easily haunted the audience even moments after disappearing into the dark. It felt all too surreal, like watching a faded dream come to life before your eyes.

You had spent so many piano lessons, so many lonely nights, with your feelings splayed across ivory keys, and all of them had been haunted by her – the image of her graceful form beneath a spotlight, smiling at you as you accompanied her with your music. For so long, you had thought that by working harder toward your form, that you would inevitably meet her again.

Despite having given up on that long ago, it had happened. But you had become an audience member now rather than a crucial part of her performance, and you were okay with that. It was enough just to see her so strongly in her element, as an old friend rather than a partner.

You have your own dance partner now, even if ballet isn’t her expertise.

After the show, Momo had taken you to the back in order to give you a chance to greet Myoui Mina yet again, and a part of you had felt incredibly anxious but also desperate to rid your last memory of her as being the image of her mother dragging her away. Especially as an adult, it was an unpleasant memory to think back on.

Momo had been kind enough to facilitate the exchange once you had entered the backstage area where all the dancers were, walking up to Mina and introducing herself as someone who often aids with traveling theatre and performance groups for her studio. Mina seemed familiar with the name, having bowed her head to Momo and thanking her for all the help, even if it wasn’t Momo who had done anything with this particular show.

It was nice to see that Mina was a girl that still smiled heartily with her gums, and it really was a cherry on top of the soft aura that exuded from her when she wasn’t on stage.

Momo had stepped aside, and Mina had seemed suspicious right away, so much so that you froze up when her eyes narrowed at you.

“Do I know you? You look familiar,” she had said, and you made sure to wipe your face with your sleeve quickly before nodding. You told her about the church that you two had attended when you were younger, and that you had continued on to compose and play music on the piano, primarily because the promise that you two had made never left you.

“I’m glad you followed your dreams of being a ballerina,” you had said bashfully, and you were shocked when she had bowed her head to you before giving you a very quick, albeit kind of stiff, hug.

“This is going to sound ridiculous,” she had started when she pulled away, “but for a while, I had convinced myself that we would meet again if I kept dancing. My dream could have easily changed since I was just a kid, but that day at that fair… I don’t know. My resolve strengthened, I guess.”

Even now, you think back on that exchange and feel bad that you had pulled her back into a hug, only to cry on her shoulder. Whether it was due to her being polite or because she empathized, she did not seem to be too angry or bewildered by your behavior, especially when you had admitted that you felt the same way. She had even said something cute about how music and art transcended beyond simple human understanding, and that all the arrangements up to that moment had led you both there.

It was so corny, and you couldn’t help but momentarily long for the lost years where you could have had an adorably dorky friend such as Myoui Mina. But Momo had insisted that you get her number, and so maybe there will be time to make up for it now that you have obtained it.

But that is all old news at this point, with all occurrences happening within the first two years of your relationship. Today, however, begins with a new morning, and that includes an annoying alarm.

“How about we just stay like this all day?” Momo’s voice in riddled with sleep, soft as she nuzzles against the back of your neck. Her arms are wrapped around you, spooning you like she always does, but she reaches over you in order to turn off the alarm.

You hum in response, not too willing to get up yet either. “That sounds good to me. We can just miss our fitting.”

Momo groans. “I forgot that we have that today. We can’t miss it,” she says, though she sounds more like a whining dog than a woman who knows that she has somewhere to go.

“If I was the one who arranged the day, then you’d be telling me to reschedule,” you mumble.

She giggles, dragging her lips across your skin until she kisses your shoulder. “It’s because I have to actually own up to the stuff I set up.”

“The wedding planner will not be happy if we push stuff off any more than we already have, anyway,” you add, turning in her arms so that you can press a kiss against your cheek.

Momo pouts. “Hey, it can’t be helped if we’re still waiting on our bridesmaid who is in Japan still.”

You catch her pout with your mouth, giving her a chaste kiss. “Sana will be here by next month. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do our own errands.”

Navigating Sana had once seemed like the most daunting aspect of pursuing your current relationship. You had expressed concern that Sana could potentially feel betrayed somehow, and even Momo hadn’t been sure of what her reaction would be.

The last thing you had expected was an excited squeal over the phone and a plea to be a part of the inevitable wedding (which had struck a panic within you at the time, but four years and a ring has proven to change your tune).

Although you and Sana hadn’t kept in contact, Momo had been a different story. This, of course, was reasonable, given that they had been best friends since they were children. And even though Sana was genuinely as busy as she had initially predicted, as promised she always made sure to reply to messages whenever she could, according to Momo. You had never tried to reach out.

Momo had been extremely nervous, because she admitted that she wasn’t sure how she would feel if Sana either disapproved or resented her for wanting to be with you. You had insisted that things could just be called off, but Momo refused to consider that as an option. She strongly felt that her friendship with Sana was strong enough that Sana would still be happy for her or, at the very least, strong enough that Sana would get over it even if she did look down on Momo for wanting you.

Thankfully, Sana proved to be just as good of a friend as Momo believed. She even seemed overjoyed on the phone, according to Momo.

It took a little more time before you were able to summon the courage to talk to her again, something that you personally wanted to do – for Momo and for yourself. Having Sana’s blessing certainly helped in aiding that process. You were able to get a hold of her eventually, and it had been very unnerving to hear such a deeply familiar voice against your ear again. But she was as sweet as you remembered, and she had admitted that contacting you had been an intimidating notion for her as well. Ultimately, she said that she was grateful, because you being with Momo meant that she could celebrate the love between two people she deeply cared for, without any pain following like a shadow in her wake.

Even then on that phone call, you could hear how deeply she missed everyone. She had found success, and she was incredibly grateful for it and the new friends she had made along the way, but she said that she still found herself holding onto the past once in a while. She had gotten a little emotional on the phone at one point and tried to laugh it off, begging you not to tell Momo that she still found it hard to be without her, even years later.

“I missed you,” you had said for the first time in years, confident in your belief that Sana was the same wonderful person that you had always known.

“I missed you, too,” she had said. Even after so long, you could still see the soft smile behind her voice. “Thank you for taking care of Momo. If there’s anyone that I trust to love her like she deserves, then it’s you.”

But Sana is still in Japan, at least for the next month. Momo whines about it almost daily, but you know that it’s only because she’s finally getting a chance to see her best friend again so soon after so many years.

You and Momo get up and get dressed, opting to skip out on breakfast so that there’s no risk of even the most subtle of food babies. Momo isn’t happy about it, but she cares enough about fitting into her wedding dress that she chooses to deal with it, claiming that you two are going to have the biggest lunch after the fitting.

It had been agreed upon that the two of you would each get two friends to help you find a dress, and that all of you would convene at the first fitting just so that you could see one another for the first time. Momo was the one to insist on this, much to the disapproval of all third parties involved, because she claims that she will not be able to bear it if she only sees your dress for the first time at your actual wedding.

You didn’t care too much for tradition, and you get to see your fiancé looking beautiful in a slightly more private setting. It’s a win for the two of you, even if everyone else whines about it.

Momo had sought out the aid of Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung. She felt bad about stealing Chaeyoung – who, rightfully, should be your claim in this situation – but Sana isn’t around, and you figure that you’re all in this together anyway (a quote which earns you a fist bump from Chaeyoung).

Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung were probably a reliable team for emotional support, of course, but you felt confident in your choice to unite the powers of Im Nayeon and Park Jihyo. Between Nayeon’s modeling experience and Jihyo’s business savvy, you couldn’t help but feel a little smug over what was unquestionably a perfect combination of people for the job.

“Now this is a girl I can vibe with,” Nayeon had whispered to you when you went shopping with them, watching as Jihyo successfully haggled the price over a gorgeous white dress that both she and Nayeon insisted looked perfect for you.

You can’t help but feel a little emotional when you walk into the boutique and see the four familiar faces waiting in the same room. It has less to do with the dresses and more to do with the fact that you would have never imagined these people in the same space. But you realize that you have been experiencing that with Momo a lot for the past four years, and you think that maybe it’s just a side-effect of being happy. Things seem to fall right into place.

Chaeyoung walks over to you, pulling you into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. These three won’t shut up, and we only got here, like, eight minutes ago. You’ve created chaos, and my wife is directly in the middle of it, so please help me.”

Momo hears this and snorts. “What could possibly be so bad?”

It doesn’t take long to register how loud the three girls are, and you’re shocked by some of the faux-bickering and teasing that you hear between them, despite the fact that Nayeon is a very new party added into the mixture. Then again, she was always a social butterfly, so maybe you aren’t too shocked.

“What’s going on, guys?” You greet casually as you walk over, giving each of them a hug.

Jeongyeon immediately takes the chance to talk. “Jihyo was trying to embarrass me in front of Chaeyoung by claiming that I was some dorky, hopeless romantic in high school. First of all, I was hilarious in high school and that’s exactly what got Jihyo to date me in the first place. She was all about the class pranks back in the day. Second of all, this random girl that I never met” – Jeongyeon takes a hard pause to point at Nayeon, who merely looks at her own nails, pretending to pay no mind – “is right behind Jihyo, telling her that she can ‘definitely’ see from how I look that I was probably some dork in high school.”

You blink, opening your mouth to speak.

But Jihyo beats you to the punch, half-laughing. “Jeong, please. There’s no need to get so defensive about being a hopeless romantic. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about! And just because you were a little dorky doesn’t mean –”

“I wasn’t!” Jeongyeon cuts in again.

Then it’s Nayeon’s turn, snorting. “You look like a dork now. What am I going to do, not believe Jihyo when she says that you were probably an even bigger dork in high school?”

“Who are you, anyway?!” Jeongyeon groans.

“Nayeon,” the model says with a wink. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re Nayeon?! Dahyun mentioned that you were a vice president at her high school, not a valedict-demon!”

They continue to bicker and laugh amongst themselves, and they don’t seem to register that you, Momo, and Chaeyoung slip away into the fitting room to meet with the seamstress. It’s significantly quieter once the doors close, and you are the first to get put into your dress.

Chaeyoung pretends to do a wolf-whistle when you step out from behind the curtain, and you try not giggle too much while the seamstress works, but it’s extra hard when Momo is clearly gawking from her seat on the waiting bench, wide-eyed, like she’s seeing you with wings or something.

“It looks okay?” You ask them while the woman near your feet pushes pins into certain ends of the dress.

“You look like the hottest wife in the room, Dubu!” Chaeyoung grins, giving you a thumbs up.

You grin. “Yeah? Even if Momo gets into her dress?”

Chaeyoung snorts. “Okay, well, Momo has incredible abs, so…”

“You won’t even see those with a dress on!”

She shrugs. “We went with a crop-top dress for Momo. We wanted to accentuate her goods.”

You shake your head, looking to Momo who has remained silent. “Babe?”

“I can’t believe you’re going to be my wife. Mine!” Momo blinks for the first time in the last minute. “No one else is allowed to see you in this, especially not Sana. That girl will take you back if she sees you like this. In fact, you’re going to make lots of people fall in love with you when they see you. I can’t risk it, I’m going to have to call off the wedding.”

“It’s too late because I’ve already seen the dress,” Chaeyoung retorts.

Momo waves a dismissive hand in her direction. “You don’t count. You brought us together so you’re basically a VIP.”

“Oh yeah.” Chaeyoung smirks, looking back at you. “That reminds me. Want to know a fun fact about Momo?” Momo seems confused and uncertain as to what Chaeyoung could be referencing, but you nod anyway. “Do you remember when we were in high school, and I told you that Momo had been wanting to meet you?”

Momo blinks, getting up and trying to get a hand over Chaeyoung’s mouth. “Hey!”

Chaeyoung snickers, tugging Momo’s palm away from her lips. “She thought you were really cute after seeing us together in the hallway, that’s why.”

“Oh my god.” Your jaw drops a bit, a half-smile on your face. “Is that true?”

Momo squints at Chaeyoung before looking back to you. “Maybe.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We’re getting married, you know. Any other secrets?”

Momo shrugs, answering at an inaudible volume as she returns to her seat.

“What was that?” You ask again.

“Sana was my first kiss when we were little. She’s the experience I had that made me realize that I like girls.” You blush at the information, both shocked and unsurprised somehow. She adds, “We never became a thing, though. We just realized that we both liked it.”

Revelations aside, you choose to ignore the weird coincidence that you, Sana, and Momo have effectively shared one another to some degree. It makes you cringe and laugh because, wow, life really does work in the weirdest of ways.

It's your turn to sit on the bench now, waiting for Momo to get into her dress.

“How’s everything, champ?” Chaeyoung asks, squeezing herself beside you on the seat.

“Honestly,” you begin to say as you wrap an arm around her shoulders, leaning your head against hers, “I don’t think that I could be happier, Chae.”

Chaeyoung pats your knee, and you can feel her smiling. “You deserve to be happy, buddy.”

And, as Momo steps out from behind the curtain in her dress, you can’t help but think that maybe Chaeyoung is right. Maybe you do deserve to be happy.

“Hey, wait.” Chaeyoung stands, tilting her head at Momo. “What happened to the dress? You got it in another color? What was wrong with white?”

“They offered other colors at the counter after you had to go, and I couldn’t resist. Jeongyeon told me to go for it, as long as it made me happy,” Momo says, meeting your eyes again, looking for approval with a wide grin. “Pink is my favorite color!”

You smile at her, the girl that has always been – and forever will be – yours.

If you had to do it all over again, you would.

“It’s mine, too.”