It’s the dress, Jungeun reasons to herself, watching, almost hypnotized, to the gentle sway of Jiwoo’s hips in that shimmery dress. The low lights of the club they are in reflects off in all the shades of the rainbow from the silvery fabric, and Jiwoo is an angel made of sin. 

She makes a motion to put her hand on Jiwoo’s hip, hesitating at the last second. Jiwoo, all sixth sense and magic, looks at her just at the right moment, and put her hand there, skin slick with sweat and warmth, bringing Jungeun even closer.

Don’t be shy now, Jungeun, she hears, only slightly louder than the music, and Jungeun doesn’t know if she heard it or if she imagined it.

This was a bad idea in so many senses, but that train already had left the station hours ago, so she kept her hands on Jiwoo’s hips and followed the music that had been set for her.

---

Jiwoo arrived in Jungeun’s apartment one fatidic Sunday morning. Her mascara was running off her face in rivers of black, and red - red as blood and red as anger - filled Jiwoo’s eyes. 

She finally had caught Sooyoung cheating; she cried in Jungeun’s arms (Jungeun, who had barely slept an hour after she got home from her DJ sidegig, but  if she isn’t going to be there for Jiwoo, her best friend/longtime crush), and Jungeun soothed her. 

Jungeun knew Sooyoung was cheating - specifically, with this blonde model new to the scene -, and so did Jiwoo. But what the eyes didn’t see the heart didn’t feel, right? So Jiwoo played pretend, Jungeun played pretend, and it was like the world’s worst ing game of hide and seek.

But that was for another time. Jiwoo cried until her eyes couldn’t produce tears anymore, and Jungeun patted her back and soothed her.

Jiwoo sniffed one last time and fell asleep, spent. Jungeun rose, lit a cigarette and started making coffee. Her blood was close to boiling - Sooyoung and Jiwoo shared an apartment, for 's sake, couldn’t she have ed Jinsol literally anywhere else? -, but she couldn’t pound down Sooyoung’s door and crack her little perfect nose because she knew Jiwoo wouldn’t like that. 

So instead, Jungeun made coffee and went on a breakfast run, returning with frozen skillet waffles and her heart lighter after leaving a curse-filled message on Sooyoung’s voicemail. Not like Sooyoung would care, anyway, but if it didn’t make Jungeun feel better.

---

Jiwoo said she had a plan. Jungeun lit a cigarette because she knows that none of Jiwoo’s plan either work or are any good, barely looking at the girl as she circled in red pen the job offerings in the newspaper.

She showed her a dress, the material silver and shiny, and it looked just like something Jungeun might’ve seen on the runway of a fashion show. That made her raise an eyebrow, a silent question dangling off the top of her cigarette, ash falling in the table. It would stain, but what is one more stain on that piece of , anyway?

Jiwoo presented her plan: to make Sooyoung jealous, simply put. If Jungeun wanted in, she was welcome to, but so far, Jiwoo planned on donning that dress (so short, so short and tight; Jungeun would’ve killed to see Jiwoo in that) and going to the party Sooyoung always went on Saturday nights. It’s like clockwork, she reasons, even if it isn’t, and Jungeun fingers the cold fabric.

Jiwoo in that dress: it might be too much for her to bear.

She grinned, saying instead: the girls won’t leave you alone, Jiwoo. Let’s do it.

---

Jungeun put on her cleanest leather jacket and her hair in a ponytail. She doesn’t look at Jiwoo, bent by her side and applying what is too much makeup for her usual tastes, staring at her own reflection in the slightly grimy mirror. She was focused on making sure her eyelashes look big and full, eyes bigger than usual, and Jungeun had to suppress a chuckle.

Yeah, if Sooyoung didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of jealousy, she was as much of a dumb as she appeared to be. To cheat on Jiwoo: Jungeun would never, but it wasn’t like Jiwoo liked her back, anyway. There was always someone else in Jiwoo’s mind (the shy librarian Haseul, Kahei from Hong Kong who broke her heart, and now Sooyoung), and so, Jungeun had grown used to it. 

It didn’t stop her from playing around, of course, trying to mend a broken heart, but it never seemed to work. Jiwoo was always there, at the back of her mind, like a ghost that she never let go. Jungeun always let herself be screamed at, in the end, because she deserved it.

But that wasn’t the point. Jiwoo finished putting on the dark eyeshadow, and grinned at Jungeun. 

Ready?

I was born ready, babe.

Babe, Jungeun mouthed mentally. As if. It felt like a joke in bad taste, sourness filling like the acrid cigarette smoke.

She still grabs Jiwoo’s hand and leads her outside to her motorcycle, and helped her put on the helmet. A thin sheet of rain covers everything, making the world glitter like a faceted diamond against the light.

The dress was strapless, a second skin on Jiwoo. Jungeun took her leather jacket and made Jiwoo wear it. They sat down, and Jungeun fiddled with her keys.

Come on, you don't wanna get a cold, do you? Besides, it makes you look tough, she jokes, and Jiwoo nuzzled against her back, warm and soft, and it almost feels like love. Jungeun committed the feeling to memory, because she was sure it would be the only time she’d feel it.

---

Heeeyyy there, said Rosé (accent on the e, kinda like the champagne, y’know? she said the first time the two talked. Jungeun still doesn’t know why that’s important enough to mention. They end up ing a few days later anyway, because she finds the Australian accent hot), in her sleaziest voice. 

Hands off, Rosé, she told the girl, who rolled her eyes before disappearing back in the crowd. Jiwoo snuggled closer to her in the crowded bar, smoke making the world hazy and dream-like. She could see Sooyoung laying down in a couch in the back, Jinsol draped over her, talking with Hyunjung. It’s almost a painting.

Jiwoo saw them too, if the way her hand tightening around Jungeun's arm was any sign. She took off the leather jacket, and Jungeun wore it again.

It smelled like Jiwoo and smoke. That wasn’t what mattered.

Let’s dance. Jiwoo said, louder than the music, but just barely. Jungeun complied, a pawn to the scheme Jiwoo had.

---

That’s how she ended up too close to Jiwoo, eye to eye and able to count the freckles on the bridge of her nose. A few millimeters more and they’d kiss.

Jungeun wanted it. Does Jiwoo, she wondered. She eyed Sooyoung, who was watching with eagle eyes. They changed positions, and she sees the way Jiwoo smirked at Sooyoung, victorious.

Let me kiss you.

Okay.

So she does, and Jiwoo tasted like the cheap strawberry vodka the bar sells, intermingled with the permanent taste of cigarette on Jungeun’s mouth, making her dizzy.

She doesn’t see Sooyoung move.

Sooyoung all but rips her off from Jiwoo’s mouth, throwing her on the floor; the only reason she doesn’t fall to the ground is because Bora, bless her, backs her up. She promptly disappeared into the crowd, not wanting to get caught in the ensuing probable fight, but Jungeun can feel the stares, the tension of everyone knowing a fight is brewing in there. The wide circle in the dance floor helps with that impression, a mosh pit for three.

Hands off my girl, Sooyoung growled, low and dangerous, and Jungeun shot her a scathing look, something on the tip of her tongue (Jiwoo wasn’t yours when she had her tongue on my mouth, ), but Jiwoo put herself between them before she can say something she’ll regret.

I thought Jinsol was your girl now? One look, up and down, as Sooyoung stammered. Come on, Jungeun, let’s get out of here.

Jiwoo grabbed her hand and marched off the club, now into the pouring rain, and they forego the motorcycle in favor of the 24/7 diner that’s a few blocks away from the club. 

They were soaked to the bone when they get there, the rain drip drop drip drop on the once pristine white plastic linoleum floor, but even the harsh, yellow lights make Jiwoo look stunning, even the makeup slightly running off her face.

Are you alright? Jiwoo asked, while they sat in the battered red plastic seats. The waitress poured them a cup of coffee as they look through the menu. I didn’t know Sooyoung would act like that. I wouldn’t even have asked if I had known. Sorry, Jungeun.

It’s alright, Jungeun replied, I signed up for that. They asked for some eggs and more coffee, please, and Jungeun stared at Jiwoo. She knew there was a bruise forming where Sooyoung grabbed her. Jungeun wasn’t going to tell Jiwoo that.

Still.

Like I said, I kinda signed up for that. A pause. The waitress poured them more coffee and Jungeun knocked it down to forget the taste of Jiwoo’s mouth. No point on dwelling on that, when it was only to cause her trouble later on.

I wasn’t fair to you. I know you like Rosé.

Jungeun almost spitted the coffee at that.

Me and Rosé? Are you losing your mind? No, I…  A pause, biting her lower lip to think. No, not me and Rosé. Someone else.

Jiwoo perked up, their sunny side up eggs being slid through the table. She always loved some gossip; this would be no different.

Oh! Oh! Do I know her?

You’re very familiar with her. 

It wasn’t a lie.

Hmmm…

What about a guessing game? Jungeun suggested, stabbing her eggs, the yolk runny and staining the egg whites. Just say who you think it is, and I’ll say yes or no.

Okay! Jiwoo ate a portion of her food, munching as she thought. Hm, Saerom?

She pointed the knife at Jungeun to make a point. She looked cute, even with that silver dress, even with that runny makeup.

Not at all! Jungeun replied, scrunching up her nose. Really? Me and Saerom? C’mon, Jiwoo.

Aww. A pout, pink lips bright and absolutely kissable. Jungeun longed to know what they felt like again, even if it hadn’t been even an hour ago. Joowon, then?

Also a no.

What Jungeun wanted to say that it was Jiwoo the someone else, but the words failed her.

Jiwoo grinned, then, eating a portion of her runny eggs. Jungeun ate hers as well, quiet, only the sound of the bustle of the cafeteria between them.

Is it me? Jiwoo grinned, smiling childishly, and then laughed. Just kidding! There’s no way it’s me, right? Like, I’m just Jiwoo, y’know? Nothing special, after all.

She was rambling; Jungeun has known Jiwoo for long enough to spot a rant when it comes, and knows that Jiwoo won’t hear her between words.

You’re right, it’s you. She muttered between bites, quietly, so quiet she hoped it would’ve gotten lost between the loud sounds of the cafeteria.

Jungeun did not expect for Jiwoo to fall silent, like a disorganized orchestra stopping without the maestro’s prompting, embarrassment dusting her cheeks reds and confusion expressed in her dark eyes, mouth open, lips inviting. She let her fork fall noisily against the platter, and Jungeun blinked, owlish, at her.

Me? Me? Me, plain old Jiwoo? Are you sure? Tears shone in her eyes, crystal-like; Jungeun looked at her. Say you’re joking, Jungeun!

I’m not. It’s always been you. She scratched the back of her head, averting her eyes. There’s a reason my relationships don’t last long. It’s because I never stopped being in love with you. Sorry ‘bout that, I guess.

Jiwoo rose, suddenly, drawing Jungeun’s eyes to her. Well, it wasn’t like they strayed far, anyway.

You’re coming with me. She said, slapping a bunch of creased bills on the table, ignoring her leftover eggs and coffee as she waited for Jungeun. Jungeun obeyed the command given, and followed Jiwoo outside, where the rain had stopped.

Are you sure it’s me? She asked, head low, quiet, almost shy. Jungeun nodded. I’m no good. I’m…

You’re Jiwoo. What else can I ask for? Jungeun asked, shrugging, and Jiwoo rose her head, eyes shining with tears.

Thank God, then! She grinned, throwing herself in Jungeun’s arms, and kissing her like there was no tomorrow.

---

I’ve kind of always like you, too. But… A pause, as Jungeun dried Jiwoo’s hair. It had been a week since they had started going out, and Jungeun hadn’t asked. But, y’know, You always seemed to be with a pretty girl on your arm, and I’m not exactly pretty.

Of course you are. Pretty, I mean.

Not compared to those girls. Headshake, a denial in almost silence. So I kinda just… Hid it. And Sooyoung was there when I cried, so we got together. She laughed, a weight being lifted off her shoulders as Jiwoo spoke up, and Jungeun let her. I knew she liked Jinsol better, though, so I sorta pretended to be blind. It hurt less to pretend I didn’t know about Sooyoung than acknowledging I was going to be loveless for the rest of my life.At least, I thought, you could be happy, if you weren’t burdened by my feelings for you, so I kept quiet about it.

A pause, again. Jungeun kept her diligent work, the cigarette ash falling from the red tip, glowing against the darkened room. It would stain the sheets, but she didn’t care.

But after a while, it… It hurt to have Sooyoung cheat on me. It was like I couldn’t do anything right to keep someone loving me. I mean, you saw how Kahei and Haseul… A sniffle, here. Jungeun let her clean her nose on the towel. Y’know.

Yeah. I see. She finished drying Jiwoo’s hair, letting the towel rest on the girl’s shoulders. She tapped Jiwoo’s shoulders, and the girl turned to face her.

She looked pretty, even without all the makeup she usually wore, barefaced and fresh, still the same kid Jungeun had grown up with.

Guess you’ll be my burden forever, huh? Jungeun said, grinning, hands on her hips. Jiwoo smiled, shy as it was, and kissed her with softness expected.