Eunwoo will never know. She can't know. But maybe, just maybe, that's the key to setting her free.

---

Eunwoo never liked hearing “it’s just a phase” because it was never just a phase. It wasn't a phase when Eunwoo first tried a special mix of flaming, tongue-numbing instant ramen, a dash of milk, melted cheese, and a fried egg in her freshman year of college. She still eats plenty of high carb, high sodium, low budget food. It wasn't a phase when Eunwoo felt her back muscles turning into concrete slabs when she bent over to pick up a textbook in the hall. She still has the rigid body of a grandma. It wasn't a phase when she started noticing girls a bit more, and noticed guys a bit less, at high school social events. She still trains her eyes on females way out of her league.

Despite an open-ended list of phases that weren't phases, only one constantly weighed down on Eunwoo's small, narrow shoulders. It wasn't a phase when a long line of digits flashed red above her right wrist before jumbling up. Her Timer was still broken.

/

Eunwoo remembered the day clearly. Her mother was stuffing a frilly, itchy dress over her four-year-old self for a wedding later that evening. The woman fussed with Eunwoo’s unkempt hair before backing away and holding a device up to her eye. Little Eunwoo groaned internally, slapping on a fake toothy smile for the next twenty flashes. Then something glowed bright like a branding iron, not from the camera in Mrs. Jung’s hand, but between the stacked bracelets that had shifted along Eunwoo’s right wrist. There was a line of bolded numbers followed by a steady countdown of the last digit. They watched in deafening silence.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Blank. Eunwoo stared wide-eyed at the string of zeros punctuated by colons to mark the days, hours, minutes, and seconds. At that age, she didn’t know what days were. There was only yesterday, today, and tomorrow. She didn’t know what hours were either. Only TV time, meal times, and bedtime. Minutes - she knew what minutes were. You could only have five or ten minutes. That was what adults always told her when she wanted something “now.” Seconds… Whatever those were, she thought they must be special too.

A deep voice echoed in young Eunwoo’s head. It’s a Timer, counting down to the moment you meet someone special, a memory of her father explained. She had questioned who could be so special as to have a stamp on her existence. A Soulmate. Like a best friend? But the very most bestest best friend? Her father had chuckled at Eunwoo’s innocence and nodded.

Little Eunwoo blinked, the glaring red numbers still visible behind her eyelids. Another flash. The zeros began whirring madly, as if a gust of wind rotated a row of flip books all at once. A moment later, it stopped. Rather, the Timer froze. Eunwoo’s hand was abnormally still, 2:47:09:85 displayed in bold text above her wrist. She read the numbers slowly, their values too large for her to comprehend.

“Two days, four… Seven hours? Zero-nine minutes and eight-five seconds…” Eunwoo trailed off in confusion. As far as she knew, the ticking hand on the living room clock didn't count past one-two. The glittery blue alarm clock in her room that belted a tinny recording of “Let It Go” never went beyond five-nine.

She glanced at her mother to check if she had read it correctly. The woman remained glued to her spot, one hand clamped over in shock, the other shaking violently. The camera lay on the carpet with the lens shifting in and out of focus.

It wasn’t until well after midnight that the gravity of the situation sunk in. Exhausted from the wedding party, she crashed as soon as her head hit the pillow. She woke up a few hours later, parched and drained. Her mother always left a water bottle on the nightstand. To little Eunwoo’s dismay, the table was clear. She hopped off her mattress, wiggling her feet into fluffy bunny slippers, and waddled out of her bedroom. She reached the top of the stairs and latched onto the railing bars to help herself down. Then she paused, hearing urgent carrying whispers down the hall. Curious, Eunwoo lifted herself back up a step and tiptoed to the master bedroom. The door was ajar, a strip of light illuminating Eunwoo’s warm brown eyes.

“Honey, this is serious. We need to talk about this.” Eunwoo’s eyebrows furrowed. She never heard her mother so worried. “Shouldn’t she see someone? Get it checked?”

“This isn’t ideal, but it’s not unheard of.” Her father, always the stoic dependable head of the house, sounded unnerved despite his words. “The fact of the matter is there is nothing we can do. It’s a phenomenon. Several things can go wrong with Timers, and there isn’t a single solution for the centuries they’ve been studied. It’s out of our hands.”

There was a ruffle of bedsheets, a creak of bedsprings. Eunwoo saw her mother’s shoulders droop as she hid her face in her hands. Mr. Jung rubbed his wife’s back consolingly.

Eunwoo’s heart clenched, though she didn’t quite understand why. She just knew it hurt to see her parents so upset. They were upset because of her. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. Unable to listen to her mother’s sobs, she turned around. Halfway to her bedroom, she peered into a vacant room. On the desk of her father’s study lay the dismantled pieces of the digital camera. Eunwoo glared at the carpeted floor, then trudged back to her room, no longer thirsty. She curled up in her cold sheets. She didn’t understand much at her age, but she knew two things that night.

There was no fixing the camera. There was no fixing her Timer either.

/

“Hi!”

A loud, high-pitched yelp startled Eunwoo. She toppled over, her cushioned by the sand. She glanced over her shoulder at the squashed castle.

“Oops…”

Eunwoo looked towards the voice sullenly. A young girl, her age she supposed, towered over her. The bright sun behind her head shaded her entire face. Eunwoo squinted and saw two limbs reach out to her. She took the outstretched hands gratefully.

“I’m sorry,” said the girl as she pulled Eunwoo to her feet. She dusted off the sand from Eunwoo’s back as Eunwoo took care of her own rear end.

“It’s okay,” Eunwoo mumbled. The girl didn’t mean it. But the castle was no more.

“I’m Yebin!” The girl perked up and held out her hand for a shake.

“Eunwoo,” she smiled half-heartedly, grasping the hand with her own.

“Whoa,” gasped Yebin. Eunwoo jumped as the girl inspected Eunwoo’s hand an inch from her nose. Yebin’s eyes became crossed, a goofy grin stretching across her lips. “Your hands are like little paws!”

Eunwoo flushed and spluttered. How large should a six-year-old’s hands be? She had time to grow! “You’re just a giant!” She shouted back, her voice laced with hurt.

Yebin giggled and patted the shorter girl’s head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. They’re cute. You’re cute!” Her grin was so wide, it was almost maniacal.

“What do you want?” Eunwoo grumbled as she picked up her plastic pail and spade. She didn’t want to sound rude, but this lunatic had ruined her first architectural masterpiece and struck her pride in under five minutes.

The girl didn’t lose spirit. If anything, she was more hyper. “I want to play with you! I’ll help you with your castle! We can make it huge now that there’s two of us.” Yebin flashed her teeth, one of which was missing from the bottom row and made a soft whistle when she pronounced s’s. She hopped over the sandbox barrier and squatted next to Eunwoo.

With a deep sigh, Eunwoo handed over a spare toy set. Yebin didn’t seem like she would take no for an answer. Eunwoo caught herself smiling at the new mounds of sand, four spaced evenly in a square. She guessed she wouldn’t have refused Yebin’s company anyway.

/

“Hey, doofus! How’s the weather down there?”

Eunwoo felt a rude shove from behind. She stomped forward a few steps from the momentum and turned about face. “You’re one to talk!” She shouted back.

The two girls stared each other down, cold fury glinting in their eyes. A second later, they dissolved into a fit of giggles. Yebin swung her arm around Eunwoo’s small shoulders and pulled her towards the school gates.

“I don’t want to go back. It’s too hot,” Eunwoo groaned.

Yebin nodded fervently. She and Eunwoo embraced the cool breeze in the shade of the trees, dreading the approaching hours of studying in a stuffy classroom.

“What’s that?” Eunwoo shook Yebin’s right hand over her shoulder.

Yebin rotated her arm, inspecting the skin for marks. “There’s nothing,” she said in confusion.

“This.” Eunwoo tapped the device on Yebin’s wrist.

“Oh. Isn’t it cool?” Yebin grinned. “My mom got it for me over summer break. Apparently you can click around on the computer and BAM!” She threw her hands up in the air, missing Eunwoo’s flushed cheek by a few centimeters. “Stuff just shows up at your door! It’s like Christmas, but without snow and you don’t have to pay a jolly stranger in cookies.”

Eunwoo scratched her head and smiled wearily. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Yebin. I’m pretty sure you have to pay for that stuff.” She vaguely recalled her mother pulling out a shiny plastic card from her purse to pay for Eunwoo’s tailored uniform.

“Do you really?” Yebin looked genuinely puzzled, then stated proudly, “Well I don’t pay for it. My piggybank still has three hundred forty-one thousand, six hundred ninety won.”

“Right,” drawled Eunwoo. Yebin counted her birthday money and the spare change she found on the street at least twice a week. She called this a smart investment habit. Eunwoo called it paranoia.

“Anyway,” Yebin said dramatically, earning a few annoyed glances from the older students passing by. “I’ll show you the best part first. Listen to this!” She shoved her wrist in Eunwoo’s face and clicked a button on the side. A faint familiar beat vibrated through hidden speakers. Right on cue, Yebin whipped her arm around in a full circle, nearly knocking Eunwoo’s front teeth out, and shouted, “We! Are! Pristin!”

Eunwoo groaned, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head. She hastily clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth, dragged her up from the ground, and pinched the button as hard as she could. The music cut off with a ringing note.

“If you wanted to listen to ‘We’ instead, you should’ve said so,” teased Yebin, her voice muffled by Eunwoo’s palm. She cackled at Eunwoo’s scowl as she straightened up. “Really though, it’s pretty cool. I can set alarms for when a year passes. Or a month or whenever I want.”

Upon closer inspection, it looked like the fancy watches adults checked compulsively during their morning jogs. Intrigued, Eunwoo watched Yebin tap the screen. A long string of numbers flashed out of the device, hovering like a hologram from a spy movie. Eunwoo’s breath hitched. Her insides curled painfully.

“It can change colors… even glows… dark… solar powered…”

Yebin’s voice faded as if Eunwoo’s eardrums were padded with dense cotton. The surroundings dissolved into oblivion. Black nothingness pressed down on the only source of light, red and glaring as lava. 4726:23:57:19. Her eyes focused on the last two digits steadily counting down. Eighteen seconds, she whispered. Seventeen seconds. Sixteen sec—

“Hey.”

Eunwoo jolted out of her thoughts. The bleak street suddenly filled with vibrantly contrasting colors, as if a deity had delicately dabbed at each object with a paintbrush. A gentle, clear voice drifted on the soft wind into her ears. Yebin squeezed her arm.

“Are you alright? You started muttering. Trying to curse my Band, aye?” Yebin laughed heartily, though the cheesy reference to her favorite universe seemed to be lost. Her chuckles died when Eunwoo gave no reaction. She held her palm to Eunwoo’s forehead. “Do you need to see the nurse?”

Eunwoo swallowed thickly, her tongue as dry as sandpaper. “I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy. Must be the heat.” She was suddenly very conscious of her own thin wrist encompassed by three trendy threaded bracelets, solid enough to block any light from shining through. She cleared and attempted an easy smile. “We better hurry or we’ll be late.” She wiped her clammy palms on her skirt, clasped Yebin’s hand in hers, and walked briskly to the gate.

/

School was important. School was necessary. School was enriching. School was nurturing. At least that’s what Eunwoo repeated to herself every morning. Her parents believed it and out of the goodness of their hearts, or the obligation from their genes, they raised Eunwoo and paid for her tuition. She supposed both were legitimate reasons. With a heavy sigh, she clenched a hand around the strap of her backpack and rummaged inside for a crumpled piece of paper. She groaned at the first line of her schedule. The most dreaded subject with the most feared teacher in the school. Just her luck. In a fit of frustration, Eunwoo ruffled her hair and dragged her fingers down her cheeks.

“Wow. You look like garbage.” Eunwoo groaned and lazily rolled over the surface of the lockers to face her best friend. Yebin chuckled in amusement, then shoved a mirror with Eunwoo’s name engraved on the back into its owner’s tiny hand. “Fix yourself up before the hall monitors deduct points. I don’t want to hear you whining twice.”

Eunwoo scoffed and rolled her eyes. She chose a very sensitive, considerate companion. She held up the mirror and carelessly brushed back her hair, ridding it of tangles. Good enough.

“So what’s got you down? The bell hasn’t even rung,” said Yebin.

Eunwoo handed over her timetable and stowed away the mirror on the top shelf of her locker. “I don’t like using my brain much.” She knew Yebin had understood immediately when boisterous cackles echoed down the corridor. Slamming her locker shut, she turned to see Yebin clutching her stomach and gripping onto the adjacent metal grates for support.

“Hey,” whispered Yebin after she had calmed down. “You wanna know a little trick? You’ll fly through algebra and trig. Guaranteed.” She had the knowledgable smirk of one dealing in contraband sweets in the cafeteria.

Eunwoo decided to entertain her. She leaned closer and whispered, “What?”

“Two plus two…” Yebin paused dramatically to scan both ends of the hall for eavesdropping spies. “Equals…” She inhaled as if pained. “Five minus one!” Yebin shouted the last words and bolted down the hall as fast as her legs could carry her. She rounded the corner and was out of sight before Eunwoo could even blink.

The intercom above crackled with a dull tone. Eunwoo sighed and held a hand to her back, her spine cracking three times as she straightened up. She shuffled off down the hall. By the time Eunwoo had reached Room 321, Yebin was lounging in her chair with her feet on Eunwoo’s desk. She shoved them off with what feeble strength she possessed.

“If Mrs. Park sees you, you’ll be dead meat.”

“Alas, she is not here,” said Yebin mystically, gesturing at the empty desk by the chalkboard.

“Alas, I am,” came a cold, high but firm voice from the doorway.

Eunwoo refrained from smirking, her heels and bowed deeply. “Good morning, Mrs. Park.” The other students chimed in.

Yebin nearly fell off of her chair as she clambered to her feet. “G-good morning, Your Gra- I mean, Mrs. P-Park.”

Eunwoo dipped her head and bit her lip. Kang Yebin stuttering. This was a day to remember.

Mrs. Park raked her eyes over the entire classroom, lingering on each student for a mere millisecond. It was enough to raise the hairs on everyone’s necks. She nodded and proceeded to the desk, her high heels clacking menacingly on the tiled floor. Chairs scraped squeakily as the students sat down.

“Kang Yebin, you will polish all of the desks in the classroom during lunch,” Mrs. Park said clearly while sorting through her lesson plans.

“Y-yes, Mrs. Park,” Yebin answered. She turned to Eunwoo, her forehead damp and glistening.

“Your Grace,” Eunwoo teased under her breath, waving a tissue in front of Yebin’s face.

The next half hour was simply unbearable. The ghostly chill of early spring had everyone shivering in their seats. Eunwoo groaned internally as a new list of formulas was scribbled onto the board. She loathed math with every fiber of her being. She scanned the board, then her own notes of chicken scratch. Everything looked dull and blanched. She sighed and took a swig from her thermos. It was only first period, yet her tea was no longer steaming. Dejected, she capped the bottle and returned it to her bag.

Just as she picked up her pencil, ready to jot down more variables and exponents, she felt a nudge from her left. “What?” She muttered, barely moving her lips.

A throaty cackle was the only response. Annoyed, she made to look at the far end of the board, her eyes drifting further over Yebin’s profile. Her friend smirked and waved her calculator before balancing it on the uneven surface where their desks met. Eunwoo waited for the teacher to turn around to glance at the calculator. She raised an eyebrow in confusion. She was terrible at math, but even she knew x couldn’t equal 5,318,008. A hand crept into her field of vision and spun the calculator until the screen was upside-down. Realization dawned on Eunwoo. Yebin dared to make a juvenile joke in Mrs. Park’s presence? She shook her head in exasperation, but felt the slightest tug at the corner of her lips. Perhaps it was a bit amusing.

She hastily scribbled the practice problems listed on the right panel of the chalkboard, muttering, “f of x equals x squared minus…” A sudden flash diverted her attention. She ignored it and continued copying the equations. “Three x plus five. Find x when—”

Eunwoo did a double take. The Timer projection flashed once more before shrinking back into the plastic screen. But the tiny numbers were burned into her vision, like when one stares at the sun for too long. 8:00:81:35. Damn it. The numerical form of “ies” was now her counter of fate. Her pencil thudded against the notebook as she propped her head up on her palm. What vendetta does the world have against a thirteen-year-old? She wondered listlessly. She suddenly missed the previous display of demonic sixes.

/

She knew it. She had always known. But it was never more evident than now. Eunwoo panted, hunched over with her hands on her knees, back stiff, salty sweat clogging her pores. Curtains of heat weighed down on her sticky skin, a cloud of humidity suffocating her. She felt a firm thump on her back. A teammate’s encouraging words flitted in one ear and streamed out the other. She sighed heavily. Expending mass amounts of energy was not fun.

“Rotate!” Chorused a group of students.

Eunwoo swallowed dryly as the opposing team walked around the rectangular area. Through the holes in the net, she saw Yebin catch the volleyball. It spun on the pads of her fingers as she bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning across the gym at Eunwoo who crouched low and clasped her hands.

The previous server lacked coordination, thus opted for an underhand serve. Yebin, peaking as a versatile student athlete at sixteen, tossed the ball high above her head, drew back, and swung her arm forward. The resounding airy smack was a testament to her strength, and too late of a warning. Eunwoo vaguely registered muffled commands to block, receive, and dodge. Whether they were made to her or the others, she didn’t know. Her eyes glazed over as the ball swished cleanly over the net and straight through a teammate’s arms. The off-white sphere darkened her world, all else fading like an eclipse.

No oxygen. No light. Muscles shaking, back aching, skin burning, ears ringing, Eunwoo felt several hands guide her into a sitting position. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked away the stars in her vision. Large bodies hovered over her, their faces still blurred slightly. She breathed deeply and gave a great shuddering gasp, as if resurfacing from a minute-long dive underwater. The strength was zapped out of her arms in an instant and they fell into her lap.

“Eunwoo!” Yebin shoved her way into the tight circle and skidded onto her knees. Small hands clasped both of Eunwoo’s cheeks, turning her head in all directions. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Yebin asked frantically. She stopped inspecting for bruises marring Eunwoo’s visage when the girl nodded.

Eunwoo’s head drooped, attention focused on her limp arms. Once the fog had cleared from her mind, she noticed a sharp throbbing pain. She rotated her right arm with great effort. She winced when a chipped edge of her plastic Band dug deeper into the flesh of her wrist. A trickle of warm liquid painted her pale skin. A boy behind her gagged as he averted his eyes from the sight of oozing blood. The other students murmured in shock.

“Oh God,” Yebin muttered, horrified. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

Yebin broke off. The rest went dead silent. A sudden flash made Eunwoo jump. Everyone stared wide-eyed at her wrist. The Band screen had a large jagged crack running down its length. Bold digital numbers sprung up from the surface and flickered feebly. The projection was missing too many to be decipherable, like a dying neon sign outside a dilapidated pub. There was an audible gasp from Eunwoo’s left.

“Everybody, give her some space,” a deep voice demanded.

The circle dissolved at once. Coach Lee knelt down with a clean hand towel and a box. He gently lifted the cracked plastic digging into the fresh gash. Eunwoo hissed in pain, her senses suddenly hyperaware. He apologized and swiftly removed the Band.

Eunwoo watched his hands in slow motion. The blood drained from her face. A trembling shiver shot down her spine. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Every muscle fiber felt petrified. She couldn’t risk showing the others her Timer, raw and broken. She wasn’t ready for that kind of shock, that kind of criticism and judgment. She wasn’t ready to be gawked at like some exotic zoo animal. She wasn’t ready for questions and pity, for the hushed whispers and conspicuous stares.

She had yet to worry about that. She sighed in relief as Coach Lee immediately wrapped the towel around the wound, shrouding the Timer before it was visible. “Kang!” He boomed. Yebin squeaked in response. “See her to the nurse’s office. It’s not too bad,” he said to Eunwoo, “but the nurse will fix you up better than this first aid kit. You can get a hall pass from there.”

Yebin helped Eunwoo to her feet with shaking hands. Though Eunwoo assured her friend she could walk, Yebin wouldn’t let go of her left arm, whether for Eunwoo’s stability or her own. The teacher handed over the blue Band. Spots of blood were already clotting along the cracks. With a sharp toot of his whistle, he ordered the rest of the class to resume their matches. They understood it to mean losing the day’s points was not worth being nosy about the situation.

The walk to the nurse’s office was excruciatingly long. Eunwoo was anxious about exposing her bare wrist, but she could feel Yebin’s guilt wafting off her body in waves. Yebin was a bit rough on the outside, a bit rowdy. But Eunwoo knew over the past ten years how soft her heart was. Eunwoo didn’t blame her friend one bit for the accident. And she knew Yebin would blame herself completely, regardless of what anyone said.

A stairwell and three turns later, they stepped over the threshold into a sterile office and treatment room. After a brief explanation, the nurse ushered Eunwoo onto a recovery couch. The butcher paper crunched under her weight, the folds making her legs itch. The nurse whipped around the room, muscle memory guiding her skilled hands to packages of bandages, wraps, and disinfecting wipes.

A jerky movement caught Eunwoo’s eye. She smiled wearily. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine, I’m safe. I’m in good hands,” she said.

Yebin stared back like a deer caught in headlights, awkwardly confined to a corner of the room and too afraid to touch anything. A few seconds passed before she replied stiffly, “I-I want to stay. I want to make sure you’re okay. You’re my friend. And this was m-my fault. I—”

“Should go back to class,” interjected the nurse kindly. She swiveled around on her stool. “It’s just a minor cut. Your friend will be out of here soon. The period will be over by then, but you can see her back in the classroom. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” She winked and made a shooing gesture with her hands. Yebin glanced between the nurse and Eunwoo, eyes glossy like a puppy being scolded. With a reluctant nod, she scurried out of the office.

Eunwoo allowed herself a small smile as she watched Yebin’s retreating back. Then, her face fell. Fear shot through her nerves. She flinched and retracted her wrist as the nurse reached for the blood-stained towel.

The nurse didn’t move, careful not to trigger Eunwoo further. She spoke in a low, motherly voice. “Dear, I’m just going to clean the cut and bandage it. It’ll sting, but you don’t want an infection. Come now,” she coaxed. Eunwoo didn’t speak nor move. The nurse slowly wrapped her fingers around Eunwoo’s left wrist, rubbing the smooth skin with her thumb.

Eunwoo stared at the circular movement, soothing in itself. She felt her muscles relax slightly though she remained guarded. Her grip on her right wrist was still tight as an iron shackle. She chanced a look at the nurse.

The matron’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “Is there something I should know?” She asked calmly. It wasn’t demanding nor intimidating. It was inviting. Eunwoo didn’t answer. She broke eye contact and stared at her lap. The nurse’s voice drifted through her ears. “My job is to take care of your health. Regardless of who you are, where you come from, or what you do, you are a student and you seek medical attention. That I will promise to provide to the best of my abilities.”

With those words settling in the air, Eunwoo resigned. She barely had the strength to hold up her arm. The stench of rubbing alcohol stung her nose and burned her raw skin, but she didn’t even blink. The office was well ventilated. A cold draft ghosted over her bare wrist. There was nothing to shied the Timer. Eunwoo could see an unfocused blob of red in her peripherals.

“You’re all set to go.”

Eunwoo blinked rapidly. How much time had passed? The nurse pressed a signed hall pass into her palm. Her eyes wandered from her cold fingertips, to the blue square of paper, to her stubby thumb, to the white gauze and self-adhering wrap around the entirety of her wrist. She looked up in surprise, gaping like a flounder.

The nurse winked and helped her up from the padded table. “You should be able to change and retrieve your belongings from the locker room before heading back to class. If the cut irritates you, you can come back or see your personal doctor. Have a good day, dear.”

It wasn’t until the door’s click echoed down the empty corridor that Eunwoo noticed she had moved. She glanced over her shoulder as if the nurse could see through the solid plaster and dry wall. She inspected her bandaged wrist. Nothing flashed into the air, nothing glowed red. She pressed on the fabric gently. The resistance was stiffer than expected of the soft padding. Peeking under a layer of the wrap, she saw stark black tape covering a patch of gauze, right where her Band’s screen would be. She smiled meekly. It’ll have to do for now.

/

Over the next week, Eunwoo was flooded with well wishes and shoulder squeezes from peers. She accepted them politely. It was futile arguing otherwise when her wrist looked more bandaged up than it needed to be. She supposed this attention was preferable to what it could have been.

Meanwhile, something was definitely off about Yebin. Her smiles didn’t reach her eyes. Her laugh didn’t reverberate in that familiar giggle, that goofy sound reminiscent of a woodpecker hammering on bark. Her touches were gentler, as if Eunwoo would shatter under the slightest pressure. She still blamed herself, Eunwoo concluded, despite the constant reassurances. Yebin hated seeing her loved ones hurt, what more by her hands. Eunwoo sighed fondly. The only solution she had was to keep Yebin by her side, jokingly hiring her as a bodyguard. To her surprise, Yebin took it seriously. Had they been dating, Eunwoo would’ve felt protected and pampered. She snorted at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Yebin asked with narrowed eyes.

Eunwoo glanced up from her textbook, annotated sticky notes littering the page. “Nothing. It’s just funny how well you’re taking care of me. You’re like my girlfriend.”

Yebin stared at Eunwoo for a few seconds, silent and still. Suddenly, she lurched forward with her tongue protruding from . “Why would that make you laugh and not gag?” She asked incredulously. Eunwoo’s graceless loud snort earned her a hard shove. “Might as well give up on studying if you won’t stop cackling,” sighed Yebin, rolling a hysterical Eunwoo over with her foot.

“I’m— Pfft. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” Eunwoo coughed in a poor attempt to hide her last few chuckles. She checked the clock hanging above the bedroom door. The softly ticking second hand completed a lap around the face. “It’s getting late. I should head home for dinner.”

“Wait!” Yebin reached over the low folding table and shook Eunwoo’s arms. “Before you go, I have something to show you.”

Despite the reluctance pooling in Eunwoo’s stomach, or perhaps the dread of her mother’s nagging, she remained seated while packing away her books. It was the liveliest Yebin had looked all week. Eunwoo didn’t have the heart to refuse whatever brought back her friend’s spirits. She waited patiently as Yebin tossed random toys and boxes out from under her bed, her legs squirming in the air like the tentacles of a kraken.

Eunwoo grabbed a ruler off of Yebin’s desk. “Are you almost done searching?” She asked in mock annoyance, jabbing her friend in the . Yebin’s linty sock swiped across Eunwoo’s nose as revenge. “Eugh!” She yelped in disgust, shoving away the offending foot.

“I got it,” guffawed Yebin as she wriggled out from under the bed grasping a small box. “Here.” She shoved it in Eunwoo’s hand, nervous excitement washing out the mischief in her voice from seconds before.

Eunwoo stared down at her lap. The wrapping paper was almost reflective, like a foggy mirror. Her eyebrows were so light, they blended into the gold shading. Her nose was oddly misshapen where the paper folded over the edge of the box. A neat bow of silk ribbon sat on top. She slowly traced the strip of smooth fabric down the side of the box. “What’s the occasion?” She asked softly, suddenly demure.

“Um,” Yebin croaked while rubbing the back of her neck. “Well, me breaking your Band and… hurting you, I guess.” She looked both ashamed and extremely shy. She waited for Eunwoo to unwrap it, but Eunwoo didn’t move. “I know!” She shouted hastily. “I know you said it’s fine. But please, take it. It’s the least I can do. Just let me give it to you.”

The gift wrapping itself was one of the most extravagant things Eunwoo had ever laid her hands on. If that was any indication, the contents of the box were certainly worth the hassle of last week ten times over. She wondered how much Yebin shelled out to buy this. The guilt that must have driven her, or drained her. It made Eunwoo’s stomach churn uncomfortably. But then she saw her friend’s anxiously shaking pupils. If there was anything Yebin would have begged for at this moment, it was for Eunwoo to accept the gift.

With anticipation tingling in the air, Eunwoo put on a megawatt grin and choked out, “Thanks, buddy.” There was an audible sigh of relief from the other side of the table.

Eunwoo carefully tugged on the tail of the bow. The ribbon unfurled in a perfect cross on the table top. She inhaled slowly as she lifted the lid of the box, and swore luxury was a marketable scent. A pristine Band was nestled into the slits of a velvet cushion. The glossy black screen reflected the bright ceiling lamp’s light. Her eyes trailed along the sleek edges of the protected glass. The lean leather strap was a deep sapphire, the stainless steel buckle cool to the touch. It would have been easy to charge a ten thousand won viewing fee for a Band of this caliber. Eunwoo didn’t feel worthy enough to hold it, what more to receive it.

“How do you like it?” Yebin asked timidly. Her fists clenched until her knuckles glowed white.

It was like snapping out of a daydream. Eunwoo stammered out, “It’s b-beautiful, but I can’t. I can’t accept this, Yebin.”

“Why not?” Yebin sounded desperate, almost hysterical. “It’ll fix everything!”

It’ll be a waste on someone like me, Eunwoo wanted to shout back. You can’t fix me. Nobody can.

She took a steadying breath. “There’s nothing to fix. It was just a scratch. I’m almost healed.” She held up her wrist. Her old threaded bracelets covered the single adhesive bandage. “And the Band was cheap anyway. I got it for free with a case of Pepsi—“

Eunwoo’s words dissolved like ash in as she glanced across the low table. Here she was, all fired up and pleading for Yebin not to grow any white hairs worrying about her. And there Yebin was, all teary-eyed and drained, wishing to the moon and back that sweet, narrow-shouldered Eunwoo would never be inconvenienced by her; she prayed that this one thing would erase what harm befell her best friend. Eunwoo realized it wasn’t a debate about materialism. Yebin wouldn’t have worried so much, she wouldn’t have overcome her frugality, she wouldn’t have those shadows under her eyes, if she didn’t love her.

“Yebin,” Eunwoo sighed with a smile, “I don’t need fancy Bands or a bodyguard. I just need you and your sassy, needy self.”

Yebin sniffed loudly and bit her lip. “Please, just do this for me. Take it. Your Timer deserves the best, not to be smacked and scarred by a volleyball during P.E.”

Eunwoo swallowed the lump in . Yebin was spouting lies and she didn’t even know it. She leaned across the table and curled her fingers around Yebin’s fists. They were cold and bonier since the last time they held hands. She mustered up every ounce of sincerity and gratitude in her body. “Thank you, Yebin. I love it. I appreciate you always being there for me.”

Yebin’s eyes seemed to soak up her pooling tears, zapping a bit of life back into her. Her lips curved into a toothy grin, her lip quivering slightly. A soft oscillating giggle erupted from deep within . A real laugh if only a small one. Eunwoo sorely missed it, any sign of her mischievous friend.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the liberty of personalizing it for you.” With renewed strength, Yebin crawled around the table and squished her way into Eunwoo’s personal space.

“You knew I was going to accept it?” Eunwoo teased with a raised eyebrow.

Yebin smirked and held down a button on the side. A clear tone rang from the Band as the software started up. A branded welcome message faded before the background appeared.

Eunwoo wheezed and clutched her chest. “It’s my goddess, Jessica Jung!”

“You’re drooling,” said Yebin flatly. She wiped Eunwoo’s mouth with a tissue and tossed it over her shoulder. “That’s not all. I downloaded a special something for you.” She reached over and scrolled through applications on the home screen until Eunwoo became cross-eyed.

The photo was a low angle shot of a woman, her thin yellow dress fluttering in the wind. My Voice was printed in the corner, Deluxe Edition next to it. “Taeyeon’s album,” she gasped.

“Are you going to have a ?” Yebin patted Eunwoo’s back until her breathing stabilized.

“I’m fine,” said Eunwoo in a thick, raspy voice. She inspected every detail of the album cover with her nose barely touching the screen.

Yebin nudged Eunwoo. “Hurry up and try it on!” She bounced in her spot, one knee digging into Eunwoo’s thigh while the other thudded against the underside of the table.

Eunwoo’s smile stiffened. The blood drained from her face and a chill ran down her spine. How would she pull this off with Yebin sitting next to her right arm? She needed a distraction. “Hey, these things have internet stuff and… thingies, right?” She berated herself for her lame vocabulary and continued. “Can I have your Wi-Fi password? I’m out of data,” she shrugged with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, sure!” Yebin exclaimed as she stumbled out of the room, her slippers flying down the stairs. She was too excited to remember accessories depended on Bluetooth. She also forgot Eunwoo’s phone was already connected to their router.

Eunwoo had to move quickly. She cursed while struggling to detach the Band from the cushion. The box flew half a meter away. She fiddled with the knots on her bracelets but they wouldn’t budge. Hearing footsteps at the bottom of the stairs, she tore them off forcefully. The slight burn was the least of her worries as she glared at the jumbled projection from her wrist. She snatched the Band off the table and slipped it snugly over her bandage. The Timer retracted as if into the back of the screen. She lunged to the side to retrieve the fallen gift box and set it neatly on the table.

“Here!” Yebin bounded into the bedroom waving a torn piece of paper.

“Thanks,” breathed Eunwoo, barely hearing herself over her heart drumming against her ribs. Her phone almost slipped out of her sweaty palm as she her Bluetooth. The Band buzzed to signal a successful pairing.

Yebin clapped enthusiastically. “You can send messages and make calendar events too.” She held Eunwoo’s wrist to and enunciated a command. “Set event for October nineteenth. Supreme Ruler of the World Kang Yebin Day.”

The Band vibrated softly. A voice announced, “Event set. October nineteenth, Supreme Ruler of the World Kang Yebin Day.” Eunwoo clicked her tongue. Yebin cackled in delight.

A minute passed before some of the excitement died down. The atmosphere wasn’t quite awkward, but there was a sense of trepidation hanging over Eunwoo’s head. She stared down at Yebin’s fingers gently tapping rhythms on her forearm.

“I’m curious about something,” said Yebin slowly.

Eunwoo considered her for a moment. She dreaded the one topic it could be about, but ignored her gut feeling. “What is it?”

“Well, your…” Yebin’s grip tightened ever so slightly around Eunwoo’s wrist. She took a deep breath. “You never show your Timer.”

Eunwoo didn’t know how to answer, so she just shrugged and feigned disinterest.

“I always figured you were one of those mysterious types.”

“A what type?” Eunwoo questioned, genuinely confused.

“Like, it’s natural to check your Timer every now and then. Kids are obsessed with numbers springing out of their skin. Teenagers are all about who falls in love with who and when, fabricating fantasies about their Soulmates. Some of the nuttier ones target the dates their Timers sync up with their idols’ concerts.” Yebin rolled her eyes.

“I clearly remember you praying three years ago that Pristin would have a fanmeeting when your Timer is up.” Eunwoo cast Yebin an accusatory glance.

“Totally different,” coughed Yebin. “Anyway, I thought you were the type to refuse that natural curiosity. You’d look maybe once a year to see how far off it’ll be, but not long enough to count the days until the day. It keeps things interesting, adds to the anticipation. But…”

“But?”

Yebin shrugged, feeling a bit ashamed now for admitting it. “We’ve known each other for ten years. I thought maybe you’d confide in me about it. Everyone else gossips about their Timers. I just realized it’s always been me jabbering about it.”

Eunwoo brushed back her hair to buy some time. Coming up short, she adopted Yebin’s theory. “Yeah, something like that. I just never liked the hype. Everyone’s so obsessed with it. I personally don’t like to think about it much.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Uh huh.” Yebin hummed in thought, then her lips split into a wide grin. “Wouldn’t it be fun to see it now? You haven’t checked in years by the sound of it.”

“Wait! I—”

Eunwoo broke off and grunted as she tried to wrench her arm out of Yebin’s strong gasp. Yebin laughed loudly, assuming Eunwoo was just messing around with her.

“Come on, just one peek,” sang Yebin. She stretched Eunwoo’s arm to its full length.

“Um, let’s wait until next Christmas. It was something like another eight years anyway,” Eunwoo tugged her arm out from under Yebin’s.

“You don’t have to look, but please let me check. I promise I won’t tell you the exact date!”

Yebin snatched at Eunwoo’s wrist again only to catch thin air. Eunwoo lost her balance and rolled left, stubbing her toe against the low folding table. Yebin seized the opportunity to jump on her friend and rolled her over. Lint balls were sandwiched between the carpet and Eunwoo’s sweater. Her shouts of “Hey!” were drowned out by cackles. She reached up and jabbed at Yebin’s stomach. Yebin merely giggled like the Pillsbury Doughboy. She straddled Eunwoo and tickled her back. Eunwoo yelped in surprise and wriggled underneath. While she was distracted, Yebin wrapped her fingers around Eunwoo’s wrist and gave it a squeeze, feeling the cool hard buttons dig into her palm.

“Gotcha!” With a twitch of her thumb, the upper button clicked once.

A soft guitar strummed to a laid back beat.

Eunwoo inhaled to stop her laughs and screeched, “Wait, Yebin! No—”

Yebin tapped her index finger once. The home screen lit up before projecting the display into the air between them. She froze, her grip on Eunwoo’s wrist slackening, her smile slipping into a disgruntled frown. Eunwoo felt all noise cancel out and everything around her and Yebin dissolved into nothingness. stung, her eyes watered, her stomach burned and her muscles were paralyzed. Both of their eyes followed the red string of numbers. The Timer hadn’t changed since the day Eunwoo was hit with the volleyball. Half of the digits’ were missing. What was left flickered like faulty Christmas lights. What could be a one could easily be part of a three or four, an eight, or even a zero.

Right on cue, a voice interrupted the music. “Error. Unable to read Timer. Error.”

Yebin gaped like a flounder. Her eyebrows furrowed. She muttered, “Error? But that’s— That’s impossible.” She stared hard at Eunwoo, searching for an answer. Then an epiphany hit her full force. Her eyes bulged out of her skull in horror.

The song resumed and Taeyeon’s clear voice cut through the suffocating silence. “It’s eleven eleven. When there’s not much time left to the day.”

“Your Timer is—”

“Shh.”

Yebin clamped her jaw shut. Eunwoo’s hiss was sharp and authoritative. Eunwoo’s glare at the bookshelf against the wall was even more terrifying. Yebin didn’t dare to breath too loudly. She slid off of Eunwoo’s lap and knelt next to her staring at the floor, waiting obediently. Eunwoo sat up and pressed a button on the Band. The song cut off abruptly. Neither moved for what felt like hours. The room dimmed as the sun set behind the trees in the backyard.

Eunwoo observed her crestfallen friend. One wordless command had sapped all energy out of her. She regretted losing her temper for a split second. It wasn’t Yebin’s fault she was like this. Ignoring the acidic taste in the back of , she spoke up.

“Yebin—”

“I’m so sorry!”

Eunwoo leaned back at the sudden apology. Yebin had toppled forward onto her palms, bowing so low that the carpet muffled her sobs. Eunwoo grabbed Yebin’s shoulders and pulled her up. Tears were streaming down Yebin’s face. Eunwoo felt helpless.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said frantically. She grabbed a box of tissues off a shelf and dabbed at Yebin’s cheeks. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I broke you!”

“Shushed you and— What?” Eunwoo paused and stared at Yebin in disbelief.

“I broke you!” Yebin cried and ducked her head into Eunwoo’s lap. “Th-that day! In the gym. The volleyball. Oh my God. It wasn’t just your B-Band, or the b-blood. I b-b-broke your T-Timer!” She was hiccuping so violently, Eunwoo barely caught what she said.

“Calm down! You didn’t break me!” Eunwoo pleaded as she tried to support Yebin’s weight.

“But—”

Eunwoo gritted her teeth and braced herself. Her stomach twisted into a knot as she unclasped the Band and held out her bare right wrist. “Yebin, look up,” she demanded.

Yebin sniffed and hiccuped before turning her head. When she was sure she had Yebin’s attention, Eunwoo flicked her wrist as hard as she could. The mess of were swept away by the momentum. After a moment, Yebin’s tearful gasps subsided to be replaced by another gap of confused silence. Eunwoo read her Timer. 11:11:11:11 and the seconds weren’t counting down.

“It doesn’t usually change on command. Well, it shouldn’t change at all,” she growled.

“How is this even possible?” Yebin whispered, pulling Eunwoo’s wrist closer to her face.

Eunwoo bitterly quoted her father from years ago. “It’s a phenomenon. Several things can go wrong with Timers, and there isn’t a single solution for the centuries they’ve been studied.”

“But then… Then…” Eunwoo could see Yebin struggling to comprehend this. “How will you know when it’s time?”

The question brought a subtle, mirthless smile to Eunwoo’s face. It seemed like some grim inside joke. This time she’d listen to her gut instincts. They said to trust Yebin. She pulled her friend up to sit next to her and looked her in the eyes.

“I won’t,” she said simply with a shrug. “I can’t. I could have seventy years left until I meet my Soulmate. I could have an hour. I may have met them four months ago. I’ll never know what little time I have left if any.”

A sudden wave of extreme calm washed over her. It was neutralizing. She didn’t feel happy per se, but a weight lifted off her shoulders and let her breathe for the first time in ages. By saying it aloud, she was fully accepting herself. It was just pure relief.

“This thing,” she held up her bare wrist with the frozen array of ones glowing serenely, “is as good as not having a Timer. It’s as good as not having a Soulmate.”

There was a loud sniff. “I’ll be your Soulmate.”

“What? ” Scoffed Eunwoo, as if Yebin had declared her brilliant brain was actually a golden walnut. “You can’t just name yourself my Soulmate. The world doesn’t work like that. And ew.”

Yebin laughed and took Eunwoo’s hand into her lap. She scooted closer to rest her head on what little shoulder Eunwoo could offer. “I’d be more inclined to kick your than kiss you at sunset any day. But even if I’m not your Soulmate, we’re still soulmates. You’re my best friend. Always have been, always will be.”

Eunwoo smiled softly and leaned her head against Yebin’s. “Yeah. I guess that’ll work.” They fell into a comfortable silence. The sun cast an orange glow through the blinds. A spark like splashing lava danced across the wall. Eunwoo rubbed her thumb across the Band, feeling the cool smooth glass. She nestled it in Yebin’s palm. “Here. Now that you know everything, it would be a waste on me.”

Yebin took the Band, feeling its weight. She reached over for Eunwoo’s right wrist, nodding in approval when the buckle clicked securely. “Keep it. I got it for you. You can’t convince me you’re not human just because a part of you is different.” Her cheeks lifted when she caught Eunwoo grinning out of the corner of her eye. “Besides, it keeps track of a very important day.”

One tap on the screen prompted a hologram to jump out. October 19th: Supreme Ruler of the World Kang Yebin Day.

/

“I can’t believe you left me here.”

“I can’t believe you’re twenty minutes late. It’s the end of the semester. Pick up the slack.”

“Okay, Mom, not all of us have the time to gallivant across Rome.”

The line crackled. There was a muffled ding and an accented “grazie,” then silence.

“Did you hang up on me?” Eunwoo shouted into the receiver. Her warm breath condensed into puffs of smoke. She half-walked, half-skipped past the library.

“No, but I should. Why did you think it was a good idea to call me when you’re running to class?” Yebin’s smug voice came through at full volume. “Mmm this gelato is fantastic.”

Eunwoo grumbled. “You dare rub it in my face now?”

“If I wanted to do that, I’d video call you.” There was a sharp sound as Yebin smacked her lips.

“Ugh, I’ll call you after class. You will pick up this time, right?”

“I promise I’ll look out for your call. We have the morning off.”

“Okay,” Eunwoo huffed. She glanced around for security personnel before running through the bushes and hopping over a low wall. “Why are you eating gelato for breakfast?”

“Because I can. Now hurry. I’ll talk to you later.” The line went dead.

“Unbelievable,” Eunwoo muttered.

Jetting off across the quad, her feet sunk into the damp grass with a nasty squelch. Her back ached trying to keep her bag’s straps on her shoulders. All of the students milling about had pulled their scarves tighter and their hats lower, their pink noses peeking out in the chilly wind. Eunwoo on the other hand was panting like a bear and sweating down the back of her neck. Four months into the semester, and only now did she vow not to nap before her night class. Her Band beeped softly. She was now half an hour late. She hurdled over a stone bench and rounded the corner to her building.

Her back slammed onto the ground, her bag slinging elsewhere. There was a cacophony of screeches and yells. The birds in the nearby tree scattered from the disturbance. Eunwoo groaned and lifted her head. A curtain of strawberry blonde hair shielded her eyes. She coughed and brushed it away to breathe. Then she froze. One does not have hair covering their face without having someone on top of them. She turned her head slowly to be met with a sharp nose and bright eyes a centimeter from her lips.

Eunwoo let out a gruff, husky yell. The other girl pushed herself off. The other two people towering over them, the girl’s friends Eunwoo supposed, rushed to her side. She ignored all of their questions. Instead, she knelt down, held Eunwoo’s hands gently, and pulled her up with surprising strength.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t see you outside the door.” The stranger looked frantic with worry.

But all Eunwoo noticed was her voice. It was higher and sharper than her own, but it still had a soothing quality. Her hair was soft when it swept across Eunwoo’s cheek as the girl helped her to her feet. And that nose, those cat-like eyes. Eunwoo focused on those sharp features, soaking in all beauty this stranger possessed. It was dark, it was cloudy. Yet this girl’s skin seemed to sparkle like fresh snow at dawn.

“Do you need an ambulance?”

“What?” Eunwoo croaked.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows. “You weren’t responding. Can you walk? Do you need me to call someone?”

“Uh,” Eunwoo said dumbly.

A second girl by the door spoke rapidly, her tone just as concerned. It was then that Eunwoo noticed she couldn’t understand a word. The boy next to the blonde piped up too, his voice low but stern. The subtle exclusion shook Eunwoo out of her reverie.

“I’m fine. Sorry, that was my fault. I shouldn’t be running and… cutting corners.” She grinned sheepishly. Had she followed the paved pathway to the doors instead of weaving through the foliage, they wouldn’t have crashed.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not hurt,” the stranger said in relief. Then her eyes trailed down Eunwoo’s front. “But that is my fault.”

Thoroughly confused and feeling a bit shy, Eunwoo looked down. She hadn’t noticed the coffee seeping into her jacket. She examined the girl’s clothes to see a completely dry raincoat. The liquid had simply dripped off of the smooth vinyl.

Eunwoo waved a small hand and laughed nervously. “It’s cool. I’ve got layers on. I needed to wash this anyway. It’s been like three months—” She broke off and coughed in embarrassment. “Well I was going to wash it anyway.”

She heard a scoff and saw the girl grinning brightly. Her teeth were white and straight, her lips glossy and red. The best part of her smile, Eunwoo thought, was her nose scrunch. Other people spazzed about eye smiles and dimples. But the way crinkles formed on the bridge of her nose as her cheeks lifted was to die for. Eunwoo felt her insides melt. A second later, she felt them turning to stone as the guy s an arm around the girl’s shoulders and whispered in her ear. She replied softly, assuringly.

Eunwoo’s wrist vibrated again. She was forty-five minutes late to a two-hour lecture. “I have to go!” Ignoring the bitter taste in , she swept her scattered books back into her bag and picked up the two devices hidden in the uneven grass. “Here,” she said and ed a phone into the girl’s hand. “I’m sorry again!”

She turned tail and ran into the building, narrowly squeezing past the doors of an elevator as they shut. She jammed a finger into the sixth floor button. Leaning against the railing, she caught her breath. The mirrors on the wall showed several Eunwoos, shoulders heaving and windswept hair in tangles. The elevator dinged and opened up to the floor.

“Holy Kongie, what took you so long?!” Someone hissed in Eunwoo’s ear and yanked her by the hood into the nearby bathroom. Eunwoo skidded into the sink with a grunt. “What is that huge stain? Is that coffee? It’s pungent,” she fired off.

Eunwoo rolled her eyes and threw her backpack at her friend. The impatient tapping of feet ticked her off but she managed to weasel out of her soaked hoodie without assistance. She threw it at her friend who choked in disgust. She held it at arm’s length, pinching the hood with two long fingers. Eunwoo stripped off the other two layers and straightened out her cardigan.

“How do I look?” Eunwoo spread her arms for approval.

Her friend clicked her tongue loudly. “You here is a better look than you missing. Move.”

Eunwoo groaned and waddled out of the bathroom with her arms full of sweaters and her bag.

“Uh uh.” Her friend stopped short and wagged a finger in front of Eunwoo’s nose. “Leave that here.” She pointed at the bench outside the room. Before Eunwoo could argue, she cut across. “Nobody will steal it. Trust me.” She turned up her nose and marched to the door.

Eunwoo sighed and left it to dry on a bench for the rest of lecture. They waited until the sound of applause drifted under the door to enter. Her friend swiped a pile of notecards and a flash drive off of her notebook while Eunwoo dumped her belongings into the adjacent chair.

“How nice of you to join us, Miss Jung,” came a drawling voice.

“Apologies, professor,” Eunwoo bowed and took her position at the second podium. With a curt nod from her friend, she introduced herself. “I’m Jung Eunwoo.”

“I’m Kang Kyungwon and we analyzed consonance and dissonance.”

As soon the hour hand hit seven o’clock, the class sluggishly filed out of the room. Eunwoo dragged her feet over to the bench where, sure enough, her stained hoodie remained untouched. She received a solid thump on the back.

“You were dreadfully late and put me in the awkward position of delaying our presentation, but we nailed it.” Kyungwon waved the marked up rubric in front of Eunwoo’s face. “Eighty-five percent for an individual score, but that’s the worst grade you’ve received in this class. It won’t hurt much.”

Eunwoo shrugged and folded her hoodie with exhaustion. Kyungwon shook her by the shoulders and dug her thumbs into the flesh. Eunwoo yelped and flinched out of her grasp. “Was that supposed to be relaxing? God forbid you give Minkyung massages like that.”

Kyungwon slapped on a stupid grin. “I give her great massages. Hey you wanna grab dinner? You’re paying since you made me wait in lecture.”

Eunwoo rolled her eyes. “Fine. It’s only right. Man, are all Kangs this much of a pain?”

“Kangs are this much of a pain because you’re a pain.” Kyungwon’s cackles echoed off the walls. She dragged Eunwoo by the arm, her stomach growling ferociously.

Eunwoo was thankful the rice cake shop Kyungwon chose offered complimentary hot tea. She wrapped her cold pudgy fingers around her steaming mug and inhaled the soothing aromas. The next five minutes were devoted to Kyungwon’s murmurs about which dish to get. Eunwoo let her go ham with the menu. Kyungwon was a fierce foodie, but she was economical about it. Eunwoo smiled warily as the waitress took their order. For someone with Kyungwon’s black hole of a stomach, a bowl of knife noodles, a large plate of spicy rice cakes, and a side of blood sausages was on the lighter side of dinner. How thoughtful of the upperclassman.

Kyungwon dug her chopsticks into the tiny stack of kimchi when the side dishes came. Her words were punctuated by healthy crunches. “Didn’t you say you had to call smaller Kang?”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot.” Eunwoo flicked through the applications on her Band and spoke into the hidden microphone. “Call Kang Yebin.”

There was a dial tone, then a click. “Unable to call. Please check Bluetooth connection.”

Eunwoo dropped the radish cube back into the dish and set down her chopsticks. Her Band had never disconnected before. She pulled out her phone, the case still freezing from the walk to the restaurant. She pressed the home button. The screen lit up and she took a second to fawn over the photo of Taeyeon at her solo concert. She punched in her password and was confused when it buzzed with a message to try again. She slowly typed each digit. The phone remained locked. She felt a poke on her arm.

Kyungwon pointed at the back of the phone with her chopsticks. “Unless you renewed your ID under the name Joo Kyulkyung and got a facelift, you have the wrong phone.”

“Here is your food,” chimed the waitress politely. Kyungwon’s eyes lit up and she thanked her.

Eunwoo flipped the phone over. A university ID was inserted in the slot of the clear case. “It’s the girl!” She shouted. The phone slipped out of her hand above a bowl of broth.

“No!” Screeched Kyungwon.

She flung herself over the table and smacked the phone to the side. It slid across the sleek table and right off the edge. Eunwoo stretched across the booth and caught the phone before it met its demise.

“Kyungwon!” She hissed. “Do you want to pay for this phone if it shatters?”

“I had to save the noodles!” Kyungwon squeaked defensively. “Anyway you caught it.”

Eunwoo rolled her eyes then scanned the ID. “Joo Kyulkyung,” she whispered.

The girl posing in the photo looked drastically different than the one she crashed into earlier. She looked youthful. Her cheeks were rounder, her eyes wide with glee. She applied minimal make up but Eunwoo still thought her looks were stunning. A natural beauty. Uncommon and greatly sought after. The Kyulkyung she met tonight had much sharper features. Her cheeks were more prominent, her jawline sharp and elegant. Eunwoo reminisced about her voice, full of cheer even when concerned, but her aura exuded poise and sophistication.

“Eunwoo.” Kyungwon snapped her fingers in front of her friend’s face. “The food’s getting cold. We can worry about the phone later. Maybe you can find her email in the school’s system. That isn’t a common name.”

Eunwoo grinned. “No it’s not.”

She thought back on the conversation between the three strangers. The syllables sounded like the swishing of leaves in the wind, or the rush of a raging river, smooth but powerful. Mandarin, she mused. Joo Kyulkyung was an adopted name, which made her easier to find. She ignored the hopeful leap in her gut and cheered a piece of rice cake with Kyungwon.

/

Eunwoo considered herself to be a very awkward bean. Small build, slouched posture, and better at people-watching than mingling. Joo Kyulkyung was a friendly soul, but her friends slash fashionable bodyguards made her look intimidating. Their preference for using their nicknames only fortified their reputation. Eunwoo was beyond nervous. The uneven chair legs clattered softly against the tiled floor. Kyungwon leaned over, inconspicuously resting an arm on the back of Eunwoo’s chair. The sound stopped with the added weight.

Her lips stretched into a thin smile. “Say something,” she whispered without moving her lips.

Eunwoo cleared and smiled at Kyulkyung, then shrunk back in her seat under the scrutinizing gaze of the other two. She swallowed the lump in . “Um, your phone!” She exclaimed, suddenly remembering the reason for this meeting. She pulled it out of her pocket and nudged it across the table.

Kyungwon smiled politely and wished she could slap Eunwoo. An hour ago, she had been ecstatic to meet this mysterious stranger again. They found the girl’s email easily enough. Kyulkyung replied and asked to meet at the cafe near campus to exchange phones. But now Eunwoo was shaking like a leaf. Kyungwon was thankful that Kyulkyung had a bit more sense.

Kyulkyung beamed. “Thanks. I was out of my mind searching for it before I got your message. And here’s your phone. Nice lock screen by the way.”

Eunwoo nearly swooned when she thought Kyulkyung winked at her. She stuttered out a reply. “Th-thanks. Right back at ya.” She laughed robotically and clutched her phone.

The five sat in awkward silence. Kyungwon and the other girl, Sally, exchanged genial smiles and tried to make small talk. Language barriers never phased Kyungwon. Kyulkyung contributed helpful translations. The guy beside her, Jun, kept a poker face the entire time. He occasionally observed Eunwoo. She’d greet him timidly. He just nodded then stared out the window. He didn’t seem displeased at least, but rather bored. Eunwoo tried to integrate herself in the ongoing conversation instead, nodding when she didn’t understand a thing and laughing when the others did. During an extended bout of clipped phrases and various hand gestures, Kyulkyung appraised Eunwoo from across the table. When Eunwoo caught her eyes, she grinned with a crinkle of her nose. Eunwoo flushed and smiled back.

“Order for Jung Eunwoo!” The barista called.

“Oh, that’s me.” Eunwoo excused herself and hopped over to the pick up counter.

“Green tea latte and a double-chip iced coffee? Have a nice day.”

Eunwoo thanked him and took a hot drink sleeve from the rack. She didn’t notice her hands were shaking again until she lifted her latte and splashed the scalding liquid over her fingers. She bit her lip and sobbed silently at the ceiling as her eyes watered.

“A cup of water please, no ice.”

Eunwoo straightened up at the high-pitched, cheerful voice. Kyulkyung smiled softly. She gently guided Eunwoo’s hand to soak in the cool water. Eunwoo felt the pain ease. The red blotches disappeared. Kyulkyung lifted her hand out and dried it with a napkin.

“Better?” She asked with expectant eyes.

Eunwoo nodded wordlessly. She couldn’t help but stare at the soft curve of the girl’s lips when she spoke. The barista interrupted them with three more drinks. Eunwoo cleared her head and fitted the sleeve onto her cup while stabbing a straw into Kyungwon’s.

“You don’t socialize often, do you?” Laughed Kyulkyung.

Eunwoo her dry lips. Was she being teased? “Not really,” she sighed. “Sorry. It’s not that I’m not interested. I’m very interested. I mean not very! Mildly. A normal amount of interest.”

She stopped her word vomit and lightly banged her head against the wall. Kyulkyung’s twinkling giggles made Eunwoo feel less crappy about her people skills.

“Don’t worry. I think you’re cute.”

Eunwoo’s jaw dropped. The last time she had been called cute, she was greatly offended by a six-year-old Yebin. But coming from Kyulkyung, it was nothing less than an honor.

Highly amused, Kyulkyung used one slender finger to lift Eunwoo’s jaw up. “Yes, I do mean you.” Eunwoo didn’t look stable enough to say anything soon so she continued, her voice a bit regretful. “Sorry to skip out so soon, but our movie is starting in a bit.”

“Oh,” said Eunwoo, more dejectedly than she had hoped. She was being too obvious.

Kyulkyung seemed to approve of it though. With a of confidence, she brushed a lock of brown hair behind Eunwoo’s ear, which glowed scarlet at the slightest touch. It was enough to elicit another signature nose scrunch. “I’d love to hang out with you sometime, just you and me. If you want to of course.” She bit her lip nervously then tilted her head. “Call me.”

Eunwoo swayed in her spot, then spluttered, “O-okay.”

“Okay what?” Kyungwon’s face bobbed into view. “Wipe that grin off. You look creepy.” She swiped her iced coffee off of the counter and took a sip.

Eunwoo blinked rapidly and scanned the cafe. “Where’s Kyulkyung?”

Kyungwon gave her a weird look. “She and her friends left a few minutes ago. I asked where you were and she said you were staring at the pastries. She forgot to mention you were busy being a lovesick idiot.” She narrowly dodged a tiny slap.

“I am not a lovesick idiot,” said Eunwoo sullenly.

“Alright, just a plain idiot. No adjective,” nodded Kyungwon. The slap landed this time. She remained unbothered. “So, Miss not-a-lovesick-idiot. Are you gonna ask her out?”

Eunwoo picked at the sleeve of her latte as she strode out the door, Kyungwon hot on her heels. A gloomy cloud drifted over her. “I forgot to ask for her number.”

“Pfft!”

Eunwoo turned around and glared at the splatter of coffee on the sidewalk. “Gross. Have some class, will you?”

“You didn’t even get her number?!” Kyungwon dropped to her knees in mirth. “Well, you can always email her,” she suggested with tears in her eyes.

Eunwoo groaned and walked away briskly, leaving Kyungwon and her long legs to catch up. “It’s times like these when I scorn Yebin for leaving me to study abroad.” Speaking of which, she needed to call her for missing out on yesterday’s chat session.

She whipped out her phone and pressed the home button to unlock it. The contacts application expanded into view. Taking a sip of her latte, she scrolled past the numbers she didn’t need anymore until she found Kang Yebin. A colored dot just above caught her attention. She lowered the cup from her lips and exhaled slowly. Her thumb dragged the screen back down to reveal a new contact.

A new message popped up. You should lock your phone or strangers will hack it. ;)

She grinned to herself, her cheeks burning despite the biting cold wind.

“Joo Kyulkyung,” she sighed blissfully.

/

“She has a little brother and sister who have a trampoline. She hurt her ankle but she’s fine now. She’s a music major studying in South Korea. My God, do her fingers fly across the strings. She looks so ethereal when she plays the pipa. She closes her eyes and lets the music carry her away. Her performances are so moving. I once cried for three hours. And her name is… unpronounceable. I tried but she couldn’t stop laughing.”

“And she’s hot!”

“Pfft.” Yebin spit out her water at Kyungwon’s unnecessary but much appreciated comment. “Hey, tall Kang!”

“Eeheee,” squealed Kyungwon. She stuck her tongue out at the webcam while brandishing a wooden spoon and donning a plaid apron. “What’s up, small Kang?”

Eunwoo grumbled at having been ignored.

“Rome’s beautiful. We should all go together! I’ll be the tour guide!”

Kyungwon smirked and rubbed her fingers together. “We ain’t rollin’ in dough here.”

“When we’re all adulting properly,” negotiated Yebin.

“Excuse me, I was talking,” interrupted Eunwoo glumly. Kyungwon waved at Yebin and scuttled off to the kitchen where the aroma of MSG soup base wafted throughout the apartment. Eunwoo placed her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together. “Where was I?”

“You were going to show me a picture of Jieqiong.”

Eunwoo glared at the monitor. Yebin blew a raspberry. “Why were you born with such good language skills?” She stewed in jealousy, being the only person who couldn’t say Kyulkyung’s birth name. Even Kyungwon who slurred when she spoke Korean pronounced it clearly.

Yebin raised a finger smugly, then shook her head. “I shouldn’t go into innuendos here.”

Eunwoo threatened to cut off the video chat. Then she reconsidered as Yebin was the only person she could spazz about Kyulkyung to without being thrown out the window. She dug out her phone and scrolled through the multitude of photos taken within the past month.

“Kang?!” Bellowed Yebin from the speakers.

Kyungwon rushed into the room and stuck her nose in front of the camera. “You called?”

“Yes,” Yebin said to Kyungwon’s nostrils. “What is that… That thing possessing Eunwoo?”

Kyungwon turned around, her hair twirling like a loose lampshade. Eunwoo grinned foolishly at her phone while humming to herself, lost in her own world. Kyungwon faced the camera again. “How to say this in Italian?… Idiota d’amore à la Jieqiong.”

The silence was only broken by static and Eunwoo tapping on her phone.

“That was terrible, but beautifully so.” Yebin applauded and Kyungwon bowed herself out.

“Here!” Shouted Eunwoo. She apologized insincerely when Yebin recoiled and yanked her headphones off. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Eunwoo held her phone up to the camera. It was a shot courtesy of Kyulkyung. They met up for an evening trek across campus to relieve their stress. Of all the empty bench space, she decided Eunwoo’s lap was the best place to sit. She even asked for a hug. Eunwoo, being her usual awkward self, patted her stomach instead. She considered it a partial success. She relished the calm of leaning her head against Kyulkyung’s back.

A low whistle came from the speakers. “I have to admit, she’s a keeper.” Eunwoo giggled dreamily. Yebin gagged. “Stop it. That’s weird.”

Eunwoo’s face fell and she glared at the screen. “The thing is, I don’t think I have a chance.”

The speakers crackled with loud crunches from the other side. Yebin had grabbed a bag of nuts to snack on idly. “With the way you’re acting, no. I don’t think you do either.”

“I concur,” piped up Kyungwon as she rolled past with table settings. “Dinner’s ready.”

“We’ll be done soon, Kyungwon.”

“Please, no rush. She needs this talk.” Kyungwon and Yebin shared a knowing look.

“Am I missing something here?” Said Eunwoo irritably.

“Yes,” the Kangs chorused.

“A girl like that, you’re probably worrying about her other suitors. The usual concerns.”

“Of course I am,” whined Eunwoo. “She’s perfect. Who wouldn’t chase after her?”

“You,” said Kyungwon, passing by with glasses of water.

“Look,” said Yebin. “She’s interested in you. Anyone can tell, except maybe you. You’ve always had too many doubts swimming around your head. Maybe it’s time to go up for some air?”

“No. She should dive down deeper,” replied Kyungwon.

Yebin scratched her head and nodded. “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t. Explain. Now.”

“It’s about the risks and going after your heart’s desire.” Yebin sighed and leaned forward. “You may have asked for your phone back on that first night, but even she set up the meeting. She put her number in your phone and texted you first. She asks you out to lunch after class and to join her on nightly strolls. She asks you to accompany her when it’s too late to walk back from lecture or when she’s lonely while studying.”

Eunwoo shrugged. “I don’t want to disturb her—”

“Do you think she needs you every time she asks for your presence? She survived on her own before spilling coffee all over you. Eunwoo, she wants to spend time with you. She’s interested.”

“Trust us,” said Kyungwon, holding a pot full of ramen with oven mitts.

“But that guy—”

“Could just be her friend. Either way, you won’t know until you try. And if you don’t chase her back, she might give up.”

Eunwoo stared at the screen helplessly. She knew Yebin was doing her best to give her a pep talk, but it only made her worry more.

“Just, try. Okay? All the good things in life require a bit of grit and hard work.” Yebin bid her good night and ended the call.

Eunwoo glanced over her shoulder. Kyungwon finished setting up the dining table as Minkyung walked out of their bedroom. She tiptoed from behind and engulfed Kyungwon in a hug. Their giggles filled the apartment with warmth and comfort. Eunwoo turned back to her computer, feeling a sudden draft in her corner, feeling alone and frail. Her eyes glazed over. She mulled over her worries. Jun was a capable man. Tall, handsome, able and protective. He spoke Kyulkyung’s native tongue. There was no doubt they were close.

Her mind drifted to a night last week. Kyulkyung received top marks on two of her exams. She called Eunwoo out to celebrate with ice cream, her treat. They finished their dessert within ten minutes of walking down the street. They spent the next hour chatting up a storm at the park. Eunwoo felt like she was floating on clouds. Then Jun walked into the picture and her heart sunk. He had been passing by and remarked how late it was. Kyulkyung agreed sadly and he accompanied them back to campus. Eunwoo would be lying if she didn’t feel empty as she parted ways with them, Jun offering to  Jieqiong directly back to her dorm.

She watched them from afar, their voices carrying over the quad. An argument, but with teasing and inside jokes, some whining here and there, all in Mandarin. But what struck down Eunwoo’s spirit was the moment Kyulkyung lifted Jun’s wrist to his face, as if providing evidence. She tapped his Band’s screen forcefully. Eunwoo could read the Timer clearly from where she stood. 00:00:00:00. Eunwoo broke down wondering about the chances of Kyulkyung being his Soulmate. That was the second time she cried because of her.

A warm hug from behind brought Eunwoo back to the present. She looked up and saw Minkyung’s face upside down. She turned in her seat to speak properly.

“I overheard you guys,” Minkyung said. She combed back Eunwoo’s hair with a mother’s touch. She knelt down to Eunwoo’s eye level and caressed her wrist, the Band shifting slightly. “It’s not just about the other guy in the picture, is it?”

Eunwoo dared to look up. She instantly knew, without words, Minkyung understood. Unaware she had moved, she found herself standing in her friends’ shared room. Minkyung dug around in a craft box and pulled out a stack of photos. She sat Eunwoo on the bed and handed her two pictures.

“What do you see?” Minkyung asked gently.

Eunwoo was confused but followed along. Minkyung was a purposeful woman. She lifted the first image up to the light. It was of Minkyung, tall but with a rounder face. She had bangs and shoulder length hair. Her uniform was neat, her bowtie straight, not a thread out of place.

“High school, my first year.”

Eunwoo nodded and raised the second image. Kyungwon was sitting on top of a jungle gym. She was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt over a tank top. It must have been taken out of school. Her hair was longer, a bit wavy. She had a big cheesy grin and large round spectacles.

“High school, her first year.”

Minkyung sifted through the stack in her hands and pulled out a third photo. Kyungwon was carrying Minkyung on her back at the beach. The sky was a deep indigo blending into darkness as midnight approached. The campfire glowed against their healthy skin.

“University, our first year.” She chuckled wistfully. “Our orientation group went on a self-authorized trip of sorts.”

Eunwoo studied Minkyung’s profile. Her gentle smile showed how she treasured these past times, made her value her present with Kyungwon that much more. Eunwoo always felt they were the perfect couple. Adorably in love and not repulsively sweet that she couldn’t live here.

“Why are you showing me these?” Eunwoo asked. Her voice was hoarse with emotion.

Minkyung subtly nudged Eunwoo’s wrist with hers. “What do you notice in all of them?”

She held up the picture of her and Kyungwon. Eunwoo held up the individual photos side by side. There was a glare from metal deflecting light in all three pictures. Her eyes traveled from the photo of the couple to Minkyung’s hand, finally landing on the silver brace around her right wrist. Eunwoo never pried. She knew how it felt with her own Timer. Minkyung collected the pictures and set them aside. She then took Eunwoo’s small hands into her comically large ones, though the effect was soothing all the same.

“Do you recognize the kinds of Bands Kyungwon and I have?”

Eunwoo shook her head. She examined it, turning Minkyung’s hand over and back. There was no screen, no buttons. There wasn’t even a locking mechanism. “Is it even a Band?”

“It is. But it isn’t a traditional one. Our Bands don’t display our Timers. They’re sealed.” She let this sink in for a minute.

“Sealed?” Muttered Eunwoo. “Permanently? You can’t ever see your Timer again?”

Minkyung tilted her head. “Sort of. Think of it like a tattoo. You get it with the intention of keeping it forever. But if you regret it down the line, you can have it removed.”

“Are you trying to tell me you two are engaged?”

“What?!” Minkyung yelped as she slid off the covers onto the floor. She groaned while rubbing her sore rear. Eunwoo apologized profusely and helped her back up. “No, no. That’s something for the future,” she murmured. A tinge of pink painted her cheeks.

Eunwoo delved into her thoughts once more as Minkyung collected herself. She knew the couple had met in university, but they both had the silver Bands three years before that. They sealed their Timers before ever meeting. She gasped and shook Minkyung’s arm.

“You two aren’t Soulmates.”

Minkyung laughed heartily, full of endearing hoots. Eunwoo had arrived at the big reveal. She raised her wrist and tapped the cool metal. “By our society’s definition, we could be Soulmates. We might not be.”

“You’ll never know unless you destroy the Band,” said Eunwoo slowly. She repeated the words in her head, then came to a second realization. “You don’t want to know if your Timers are up.”

Minkyung shook her head. “We have no reason to care. My life decisions and my personality led me to Kyungwon. That is what I see before me. That is what matters most. We love each other. You can argue that you don’t choose who you love and who you don’t. But you can choose how you limit yourself. So many people are intent on finding the Soulmate fate or whatever dictates they be matched to. They get lost and lose sight of what’s in front of them. Kyungwon is too precious for me to let pass. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the only one I want and need. I don’t care what a counter on my wrist says. We made a real connection and we build on it, every single day.”

“It’s hard to let go of your worries, I know. I’ve been there,” she continued, sensing the lack of energy in Eunwoo. “It’s hard to go against the grain when everyone tells you your entire life what system to go by. You hear about Timers, about being born with them, about how they count down. How Bands are the efficient accessory to exert some control over them. But they never tell you about the people. The people who lose their Soulmates in a tragedy. The people who fall into obsession and out of love. The people who can’t bear to connect with their Soulmates, can’t stand the sight of them.”

“The people who have broken Timers,” whispered Eunwoo. She flicked the clasp and her Band slipped off onto the sheets. She and Minkyung stared at the Timer. It switched from a row of zeros, to ones, to twos, and on, rhythmically every second.

“The people who don’t have Timers at all,” added Minkyung. She placed her warm hand over Eunwoo’s wrist, shielding the Timer from view.

“What do they do?”

“Well, they live.” Minkyung laughed at Eunwoo’s dissatisfied expression. “I mean it. Fate has failed them, so they have to forge their own way in the world, in life and in love.”

“Guys,” Kyungwon whined down the hall. “I made food! And you’re not here! Let’s eat!”

The girls chuckled. Minkyung stared at the open doorway, where light streamed in from the dining room. “I did it and I couldn’t be happier. I just wish the same for you. I think Kyulkyung might light a spark in you. You might light a fire in her. Now come on. Let’s eat before Kyungwon barges in here complaining about soggy ramen.”

/

Three levels of concrete, steel, and tile shook with the booming bass from below. Gleaming bubbles drifted from wall to wall, amusing the laid back onlookers. Men waded through the crowds in their sleek blazers, bobbing their heads to the music. Women strutted across the floor in their ridiculous kill heels, flaunting the latest fashion trends. The bartender on the ground floor juggled bottles as another poured rainbow shots. The one on the second floor flambéed a row of cocktails with a blowtorch and served them to a cheering crowd. The third level bar topped off a fountain of champagne, the golden liquid bubbling down the tower of glass flutes.

Eunwoo fanned away clouds of musty lit tobacco and pushed away guests already drunk under the table two hours into the event. The DJ wound up the track, the rhythm gaining momentum. With a collective stomp from the crowd on the dance floor, the beat dropped and the lights went out. White blobs jostled around in the dark.

With several more grunts and elbow shoves, Eunwoo squeezed her way to a table off to the side. She barely recognized her friends clustered in a circle. Minkyung’s white strapless dress glowed brilliantly under the blacklights.

Someone blindsided her and shouted, “Good to see you, doofus!”

Eunwoo beamed, her teeth shining against her shaded face. “The Supreme Ruler of the World? Here? In the club?”

“In the club! Whoo!” Yebin jumped to the beat and raised her glass in the air.

“Come on, let’s down one to celebrate the end of finals!” Said Minkyung. She handed out shots of tequila.

Eunwoo held it up to sniff. The stench burned her nostrils. Swirling the contents in the glass, she saw the liquid cling to the surface like thick syrup. She met Kyungwon’s amused eyes across the table.

“You don’t have to drink it, but it’s nice to clink glasses.” She held up a pinky and made a mockingly pompous expression.

“Cheers!” Everyone shouted and downed their shots. Eunwoo raised her glass and watched the others grimace at the taste. She offered her shot to Yebin, who chugged it easily.

“When did you get back?” Eunwoo shouted above the music.

“Last night!” Yebin said. “I wanted to surprise you. Minkyung told me about the party, so here I am!” She raised her arms and cheered with the crowd.

Eunwoo tapped her fingers on the table and scanned the floor. It was hazy and toasty. It was a nice night to forget everything. She felt a tug on her hand.

“Let’s dance!”

Minkyung followed Kyungwon’s lead and pulled Eunwoo into the fold, who latched onto Yebin. Eunwoo laughed awkwardly and bounced along with the crowd. The girls told her to just let loose. The longer they stayed out on the floor, the more comfortable Eunwoo felt. She shimmied with Kyungwon and the others whistled before joining in. Yebin climbed up onto the DJ’s stage and got the crowd to whoop by sections. Minkyung grabbed Eunwoo’s hand and twirled her around. Eunwoo didn’t notice Minkyung had stopped until her tall friend shoved past her. Someone was getting a bit too intimate with her girlfriend.

Before the sensation of loneliness could sink in, a slender arm s around Eunwoo’s waist. A voice whispered in her ear, louder than the bass but still alluring.

“Hey, beautiful. How are you tonight?”

Eunwoo whipped around to see Kyulkyung beaming at her. The dance floor lit up and the club exploded with flashes from the stage, illuminating the area. Eunwoo could distinguish Kyulkyung’s straight nose. Her eyes were sharp and smokey. The dim lights accentuated her high cheekbones, the neon flashing tiles highlighting her steep jawline.

“Fantastic now that you’re here.” They both blushed, thankful for the darkness of the club.

“Are you flirting with me?”

Eunwoo ducked her head shyly. A huge mistake considering Kyulkyung’s neckline dropped dangerously low. Eunwoo averted her eyes. She shrugged, awkwardness seeping back into her bones. “Just being honest.”

Kyulkyung grinned, apparently very pleased with the answer. Her nose scrunched up as she leaned closer. “I couldn’t wait to find you.”

Eunwoo’s entire body flared up. She was suddenly aware of Kyulkyung’s thumb brushing against her bare midriff, her arm still wrapped around her waist. The skin on skin contact burned in the best way possible, sending shivers down Eunwoo’s spine.

A second arm wrapped around Eunwoo’s neck and tugged her head down. “Hey!” Shouted Yebin, hyped up from leading the crowd. She glanced between Eunwoo and a slightly disappointed Kyulkyung. She smirked and extended her hand. “Kang Yebin, Eunwoo’s childhood friend. And you are?” She asked, knowing the answer already.

“Joo Kyulkyung, Eunwoo’s… friend,” she said, struggling to describe their relationship.

Eunwoo hadn’t noticed. She called over the crowd. “Where’s Minkyung and Kyungwon?”

“Probably making out somewhere,” Yebin grinned mischievously. She glanced around the club and her expression darkened. She spoke clearly into Eunwoo’s ear. “Three o’clock. Mister Mysterious is here to sweep your girl off her feet.”

Eunwoo craned her neck and saw a tall guy in a fitted white shirt weave through the crowd. To her surprise, he smiled at her and waved. She didn’t know how to react. She barely felt the arm around her waist pull her closer.

As he approached the group, he scratched his ear and bent his head down low. “Hey, Eunwoo.” His deep voice easily cut through the noise.

Eunwoo was wary about his sudden friendliness, no matter how awkward. But she wasn’t one to disrespect. She gave what she hoped was a bright smile. Her confusion may have twisted it into a look of constipation. He didn’t seem to notice as he greeted Kyulkyung.

“Excuse us,” Yebin said and pulled Eunwoo deeper into the crowd but within visibility of the pair. She draped Eunwoo’s hands over her shoulders and pulled her closer by the waist.

“Whoa! What are you doing?”

Eunwoo’s voice shook and her eyes bulged from being in such close proximity with her of a best friend. This had to make the list the strangest events of her life. She tried to pull away. Yebin caught her hand and twirled Eunwoo once before drawing her in.

“A little jealousy moves things forward.”

Eunwoo eyed her friend suspiciously. “Right,” she said, unconvinced. She wanted to check what Kyulkyung and Jun were up to, but Yebin held her chin still.

“Don’t look directly at them. Make them think we’re giving them space. Make Kyulkyung want you to march back over there and interrupt them.”

The gears began grinding in Eunwoo’s head. “What happened to me doing the chasing?”

Yebin smirked and leaned in unnecessarily close. Eunwoo’s arms naturally wrapped around Yebin’s neck. “It’s a bit more complicated. Yes, she has been chasing you. But maybe her frustration will drive her to do the same as we are. Entice you to go after her. Rile you up.”

“But how—” Eunwoo trained her eyes on Yebin’s, but they both saw the other two escape to somewhere more private. Eunwoo panicked and stood stock still. “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” said Yebin calmly.

“Well, what do I do? Go after them?”

Yebin shook her head with a smirk. Scoffing lightly, she let go of Eunwoo. Her friend darted off into the crowd without further prompting.

Eunwoo raced up the stairs to the second floor and clutched the railing. The mass of bodies melding together on the dance floor were indistinguishable. The bar was too dark. She couldn’t recognize anyone, not even her friends. She bounded for the third floor stairs when someone grabbed her arm.

“Hey, we’ve been looking for you. Where’s small Kang?” Kyungwon asked.

“Uh, down. Dancing. Floor. I mean she’s down on the first floor, dancing.”

The couple exchanged looks at Eunwoo’s jumbled syntax. “Are you okay?”

“I need to find Kyulkyung.”

The couple’s mouths formed an O in understanding. Minkyung pointed behind Eunwoo towards the bar. “I see the tall brawn over there. Your girl can’t be far.”

“Thanks!” Eunwoo shouted over her shoulder. She took three steps then skidded to a stop.

“Something wrong?” Minkyung asked.

Eunwoo darted back to the couple, snatched the glass out of Kyungwon’s hand and downed it in one gulp. The liquid burned, the spice spreading warmth to the tips of her fingers.

“Hey!” Shouted Kyungwon. “That was mine…”

Eunwoo roughly patted Kyungwon’s arm and shoved the glass back into her hand. “Thanks.”

“It had five liquors in there too,” scoffed Minkyung, pitying her girlfriend.

“I told you already. I’m not going to—” Kyulkyung broke off, her features softening as Eunwoo approached. Jun peered down at her.

“Hey,” Eunwoo said brightly. The effects of the alcohol wasn’t courage-inducing like she expected. She just felt less cautious and more invincible from the stupid things she could do.

“Hey,” said Kyulkyung in surprise.

“Dance with me.”

Kyulkyung raised her eyebrow. Her clenched jaw relaxed into a lazy smirk. “Are you commanding me?”

“Yes. Dance with me. I mean, please.” Eunwoo’s voice was steady, but her insides trembled.

As soon as Kyulkyung held her hand out, Eunwoo intertwined their fingers and carved a path to the ground floor. They didn’t venture back into the crowd, but hovered near the margins where the bass still overpowered their pulse.

Eunwoo grew bolder as she slid her hands down to rest on Kyulkyung’s hips. Kyulkyung smirked in approval. She didn’t hesitate to pull Eunwoo closer by the collar of her jacket. Her arms pressed against Eunwoo’s neck, slender fingers threading through Eunwoo’s hair. She leaned in, their faces mere centimeters away, their warm breaths mingling with the smoke.

For a second Eunwoo felt lost in bliss, no longer in control of her muscles. She pressed Kyulkyung’s body against her own as they swayed to the music. She glanced up and met Kyulkyung’s heavily lidded eyes, full of desire and passion. The intensity of her gaze should’ve made her fall, it should’ve captured her soul.

In her impatience, Kyulkyung trailed her hand down Eunwoo’s arm and stepped forward. Her elbow knocked into Eunwoo’s Band and a mess of digits flashed among the strobe lights. Eunwoo slowly closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and gently pushed Kyulkyung away.

The guilt in her chest intensified when she saw the hurt in Kyulkyung’s eyes. She hastily explained, “I’m sorry. I can’t do that to you guys. It’s not fair.”

Kyulkyung gripped Eunwoo’s shoulder, unwilling to let her run away. “Do what?” She demanded, frustration bubbling up in .

“You and Jun. You’re Soulmates.” It was painful to say. Then she remembered what Minkyung said and reconsidered her words. She battled with herself and decided to press on. “I shouldn’t have intruded. I was being selfish. I—”

Kyulkyung grabbed Eunwoo’s wrist, retracting the Timer unbeknownst to her. She led them through the winding corridors and out the double doors. The lighting neutralized. The white crescent moon shone bright against the purple sky. Eunwoo’s ears buzzed until the music was only a muffled beat from the club down the block. She inhaled, the cool night air flushing out the toxins in her lungs. A temporary calm engulfed her until she remembered where she was and who she was with. Kyulkyung came to a halt and spun around.

“Jun and I are definitely not Soulmates. That’s preposterous.” The words tumbled out of Kyulkyung’s mouth in one breath.

Eunwoo stared at her, her emotions a complete mess. Her heart leapt with joy at the news, but her mind was trying to rationalize her assumptions. “But his Timer is zero. You guys are always ‘arguing.’” She curled her fingers into quotation marks. “That only happened after you and I started hanging out.”

Kyulkyung cracked a smile, relief mixed with a bit of exhaustion in her eyes. She sighed, figuring she couldn’t hide it anymore. “His Timer hit zero the night I crashed into you. You’re his Soulmate.” She waited, gauging Eunwoo’s reaction.

A dizzy spell hit Eunwoo. She fell backwards, stumbling into a lamppost. “Now that is preposterous. I don’t have a Soulmate. My Timer is broken.” She waved her Band around. Kyulkyung held her wrist still and rubbed soothing circles into the flesh to calm her down.

“His says you’re his Soulmate. Yours can’t tell you anything. He knew immediately and it didn’t take us long to figure out you didn’t.” Kyulkyung took a step forward and held Eunwoo steady. She spoke softly, words only for their ears. “So I told him to fight. Fight for you. Because I wasn’t about to back down.”

Eunwoo stared up at the moon, unable to comprehend the situation. She wanted to laugh that all this time, a counter somewhere in the world was moving towards her. She wanted to cry, for Kyulkyung had just obliterated all of her doubts, admitted her interest in Eunwoo. She wanted to kneel on the ground and pray to the heavens that a fate taken from her was a fate so generous. But most of all, she wanted the girl standing before her, with no limitations.

Kyulkyung gently held Eunwoo’s face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. Her arms wrapped around Eunwoo’s shoulders, intent on keeping their bodies close. “It’s up to you now. Who do you choose?”

Eunwoo’s lips curved up, pure joy spreading through her veins. She leaned in, her breathing shallow and rapid. Her lips grazed Kyulkyung’s neck teasingly as she whispered, “I want you.” Her hands slid over Kyulkyung’s and she captured her lips, relinquishing all desire shackled within.

---

A/N: 

The due date hit me before I could incorporate one more detail. I don't think I'll ever edit this so here's the rest of the plot twist:

 

Jieqiong was born without a timer.