When the song played in Yerim’s head, her heart stopped. It was the moment she had been working towards for so long that it hardly felt real, even as her own voice sang the words she’d penned herself.

 

“I hope you have a dreamless sleep

I hope you’ll peacefully close your eyes”

 

She sank to a crouch, knees feeling weak. Stares coming from the people around her were palpable, but for once she didn’t care about others’ gazes on her. Arms around her knees, face hidden, Yerim listened to her self-composed song just as her soulmate did for the very first time.

“Yeri-ssi, are you alright?” A hand tapped her on the shoulder, and she startled, falling backwards.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Her manager frowned at her, but only extended a hand to help Yerim to her feet. “We have a packed schedule today, so if you’re feeling dizzy we should stop and get something to eat.”

“No, I’m fine unnie. Promise,” Yerim said, pasting on a smile to cover up the trembling in her chest, her hands, her heart. She dusted off her skirt as she took a brief, guilty glance around SM’s lobby. But with the presence of her manager, no one seemed to be giving the singer a second glance. “No, I’m good. I have that meeting first today, right?” She didn’t give her manager a chance to react, setting off towards the elevator with a bright smile. Her manager didn’t get to see it fall off as she punched the up button, fingers still shaking.

It’s only the first step, she told herself. But a first step she’d given up on years ago.

 

--

 

Yerim didn’t hear her first soulmate song until late. Usually that simply meant she was older than her soulmate, but then each of her friends had stories of their first song and she still didn’t. By then, she had already made up her mind to become a singer, heart captivated by Full Moon wo Sagae and Mitsuki Koyama’s attempts to connect to her soulmate by becoming an idol. There was something romantic about the notion of creating the music that brought two souls together. But she remembered coming home crying when another day went by without a song in her ears, wondering if her soul was really too strange to have a pair somewhere out in the world. She would’ve taken her first song to even be the baby shark song over nothing.

She curated her playlists like an apology for months, playing only music suitable for a First and plugging her ears whenever she caught the hint of a song in public. Then she got the call back from her SM audition and didn’t have time to think about it at all.

 

She was young, and for a while she went to school like normal, came home late, but still managed to get to bed on time. However, it wasn’t long until she realized that going home after group lessons was to accept failure. She printed out her favorite Full Moon panel, tucked it in the clear case of the phone her parents had purchased for the express purpose of calling on her way home after sunset, and dutifully remained in the practice rooms for longer and longer.

It was a shame she could never identify her First. It was another night in the practice room and the other trainees had already gone home. She had been huddled up against the wall, too tired to pack up, scrolling through pictures on her phone instead of dancing. 

At first, she thought she might’ve dozed off, someone coming into the room while she slept and playing music, but no one was there. 

She looked out in the hall, but there was no one outside.

“Hello? Ghosts?” she called tentatively into the room as she re-entered. If there were any ghosts, they didn’t answer. She placed a hand on the sound system, but it was still.

Then it hit her. The volume of the song didn’t change as she wandered around the room. It didn’t change when she shut the door behind her or plugged her ears, or—

She stood frozen, staring blankly ahead. She didn’t see her reflection in the wall mirrors, wan complexion gaining a tinge of pink. It was her soulmate, listening to a song in English. There were tears on her cheeks, but she felt weightless with relief. 

She wasn’t alone. She was going to be okay.

 

Yerim spent the next week humming what she could remember of the song to anyone who would stop to listen. Everyone shook their heads as she tried—‘ Or maybe it goes like this? ’—but it didn’t deter her. She knew she had a soulmate and she was going to find them one way or another.

Over time, Yerim heard more and more songs, staying late in practice rooms until she was one of the last trainees in the building most nights. After her English lessons, she could pick out enough words to start writing down lyrics in a notebook before she left the building and look up the songs in the morning. Her soulmate seemed to prefer American pop and RnB, a blend of old songs and new, most she’d never heard of. Yerim couldn’t pretend it was the easiest thing to fall asleep to power ballads, but she couldn’t say she had any right to speak when she was subjecting her soulmate to the same song on repeat 15 hours a week during dance practice.

They listened to music in the late evening and very early morning. The music kept being pushed earlier and earlier until Yerim was listening to musical theater numbers as she sped through her brief dinner break. She guessed that they must start listening soon after waking up and right after school, Yerim only catching the second round of music on particularly late nights. From her best guesses and a time zone map, she guessed that they must be in the Americas somewhere. (She imagined them in the US, her heart warm at the thought of following the path of her old favorite manga yet again.)

 

She still hadn’t debuted by the age of 18. After four years of training, it didn’t look like there was any end in sight. There had been rumors of a girl group being formed two years previous, then nothing. Just the year before, SM finally debuted the trainee that had been working the longest, Kang Seulgi, with a heavily choreographed title track and an abbreviated name. If Seul sunbaenim could debut after 10 years, if Mitsuki could fight cancer and her childhood sweetheart’s death to become an idol and put smiles on people’s faces, well so could Kim Yerim. She gritted her teeth, did her best to smile brightly at her mother wondering out loud if she should be studying for the CSAT whenever she was home, and kept showing up to practice. At the end of every day, she took a moment to sit and listen to the songs her soulmate did and wondered if they ever stopped to do the same.

Then she got called to the director’s office later that year, had been given a new name, and was set to debut not as the girl group member she expected, but as Yeri, SM’s newest K-indie solo artist.

She had Facetimed her mother the moment she’d left the office, not caring that anyone could hear, not caring that her mom was at work. She’d managed to interrupt a meeting, but her mom put her talk on hold and cried with her. She texted her sisters who thought she was joking. She sank to the floor of the closest empty practice room and played ‘New Future’ on her phone and sang along through a tight throat.

She’d made it, she’d made it, she’d made it .

 

--

 

Her soulmate hearing her song was only the first step, but Yerim floated by on it for weeks. Not only that, it’d been the single song on her album that she’d written herself, fighting with all the resources she had to get it produced. It felt like destiny, and all she had to do was keep following the red string that tied her and her soulmate together. Every time her own song rang sourcelessly in her head, it felt like the entire world was hers. All she needed to do was reach out and take it.

 

There was talk of a new trainee, one whose voice was already debut ready. Yerim heard it in passing, too busy to keep tabs on the constant flow of young hopefuls coming in and out of the building. She regretted it, her own struggles as a trainee only a breath’s distance away, but she barely had time to hop from task to task herself. 

However, it didn’t matter since SM brought the trainee to her.

“We’re going to have you produce a Station track with Wendy.”

“Wendy?” she asked, the name feeling foreign on her tongue.

“Son Seungwan, but she’ll be ‘Wendy’.”

This trainee already had a stage name? “Will she be debuting soon?” Yerim asked, but only received a shrug in response. It was funny; fans always asked for insider information, but outside her own schedule (and sometimes even then) she knew as little as them. She couldn’t begin to speculate why they were letting a trainee work on a song with her rather than pairing Yerim with a more senior artist. It didn’t matter much regardless. A new Station track meant a new song to hang her name on, a new song to send out into the world as hope, and she was ready to tackle it.

She was nervous to meet her new collaborator, however. While she loved meeting new people, she wasn’t just here to make a friend. Moreover, ‘Wendy’ was from Canada, or so her manager told her, and a very recent trainee. Would her Korean be good? Yerim had been studying as diligently as she could manage with her schedule, but her English wasn’t good enough to navigate a recording session. Would they be able to work well together?

Thankfully, her fears didn’t last long. When they entered the room, a small girl with short hair jumped to her feet immediately. Her expression was cheerful, eyes eager.

“Yeri sunbaenim!” The other girl dipped into a deep bow, causing Yerim to burst into surprised laughter at the absurdity.

“Do it again!” she shot out between giggles, only laughing harder as the other girl’s face turned bright red.

The other girl surprisingly complied without complaint, dipping into another over 90 degrees bow. “It’s nice to meet you, sunbaenim.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Wendy-ssi,” Yerim managed to say, dipping into a far shallower bow, still clutching her stomach. “Wendy? Uh… Seungwan?”

“Wendy is fine,” the other girl said, the blush still lighting up her cheeks. “I’m more used to it at this point.” Yerim might’ve guessed from the light accent that tinged her speech. It was cute.

“You should call her unnie,” Yerim’s manager scolded, straight-faced. Yerim had been sad to find her manager was entirely inured to her antics after the past two years working together. “She’s older than you.”

“Unnie?” Yerim frowned as she looked over the other girl again. She was at least a few centimeters shorter than Yerim, her hands curled into small fists, elbows tucked into her sides. Wendy looked like something you could keep in your pocket. “Unnie, huh.” She grinned. “Please treat me well, unnie.” Wendy spluttered wordlessly, and Yeri could only laugh again before turning to the sheet music they’d been handed.

 

It only took the single practice session for Yerim to understand the rumors she’d heard. They sat side by side with the demo track on Yerim’s phone, a piano app on Wendy’s, and plucked through the song together.

“Alright, want to try it with the backing track?”

Wendy drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, frowning. “I’m not sure I’m ready.” Yerim had learned quickly that Wendy was meticulous, willing to iron out a single phrase for ages if she wasn’t nudged along. Unfortunately, they only had so much time available.

“It’s not like we’re recording for real,” Yerim said, nudging the other girl with her shoulder. “Then we can see what we need to go over next time if we get one rough version.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wendy muttered, picking up her pencil and biting her lip. Yerim found her eyes settling on Wendy’s mouth, and shook her head with a start.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said, hitting play. Most of the song was assigned to Yerim as the senior debuted artist. The verses were in her wheelhouse, gentle and deep but rhythmic. Wendy had been assigned the pre-chorus, the bridge, and an endless twisting of adlibs. Wendy had hummed through the latter under her breath but hadn’t taken the time to practice them since she ‘didn’t want to take time away from Yerim’. Whatever that meant.

Yerim went through her verses easily enough, ticking off breaths and tricky intervals on her sheet music. It was simple enough. One day they’d give her more technical music, but for now she’d work with what she was given.

She nodded through the interlude beats when she was done, counting off the measures until Wendy’s part. However, she forgot to breathe as Wendy sung her first note.

When they were learning, Wendy had sung through the melody in a breathy halftone, eyebrows furrowed, head cocked as though she could catch the song from the otherwise quiet room. But now her face fell open into ease, her voice spilling golden like honey. Her eyes as they wandered the room gleamed and Yerim found herself thinking, I could love you .

Then she startled at her own thought. I could love you ? She almost missed her entrance in her shock but found Wendy’s harmony spinning above her melody effortlessly, keeping her floating along.

Wendy’s eyes caught hers, her head nodding along with the beat. Yerim joined her, tapping out the rhythm on her thigh. If she didn’t, her racing heart would pull her off tempo.

The verses sounded empty now without Wendy’s voice joining hers, but the bridge. The bridge—

“Yeri-ssi?” Yerim blinked her eyes furiously, finding the track playing her verse without her. “It’s your part,” Wendy told her gently, reaching out to pause the backing track.

“Sorry. It’s just, your voice…” Yerim was at a loss for words, which was probably for the best because even the hint of a compliment had Wendy covering her face with her hands, shaking her head. “Wow. You’re amazing.”

“No—”

“Amazing,” Yerim repeated, reaching out to grab Wendy’s shoulders. She gave them a light shake, getting Wendy to drop her hands. “This song is going to be amazing. We’re gonna be number one.”

“Number one?” Wendy asked, but Yerim already jumped to her feet.

“Melon number one! Melon number one!” she chanted, spinning around in a circle with Wendy’s bridge echoing in her ears.

“Don’t count your chickens!”

Yerim stopped, head dizzy. “What does this have to do with chickens?”

Wendy sighed, but a smile curled along her lips. “It’s an English saying, don’t worry about it.” She stood up as well, stretching her arms out over her head. “Should we get dinner? My treat.”

“What time is it?” Yerim looked to the clock, the red “1:26” blinking back at her not diminishing the bubbles of excitement in her veins.

“Late. Um, what do you like? I don’t know what’s in the area…”

“We should probably order something in at this point. I don’t want to deal with Dispatch anyways.”

“Dispatch?” She frowned before widening her eyes comically. “Would we really have to worry about them?”

Yerim nodded. “Welcome to the industry,” she sing-songed. “Here, lemme pull up my app.”

They sat knee to knee over their dinner, having settled for chicken sandwiches due to the late hour. Yerim tore into hers eagerly, realizing as their food arrived that they’d worked straight through her normal dinner time. Wendy, on the other hand, ate thoughtfully, taking small bites. She was hardly halfway done when Yerim was brushing the crumbs from her hands.

“So, you’re Canadian?” Yerim asked, remembering what her manager had told her.

“I mean, I was there since 5th grade, or so? I was in America for a while too.” She set down her sandwich to answer, and Yerim prodded her with her knee until she began eating again.

“Why’d you come back? Family?”

Wendy shook her head, her smile twisting into something Yerim wasn’t sure how to interpret. “No, they’d moved to Canada already, just in time for me to move away.” She laughed, but Yerim could tell it wasn’t a happy one. “No, I came to Korea and auditioned for SM and somehow got in…”

“So now you’re here,” Yerim filled in when Wendy’s gaze moved from her face to somewhere much further away.

“Now I’m here,” Wendy echoed. “I was told I was way too old to audition, so it’s kinda a miracle, I think.”

Yerim frowned. “If you were going to move away and come audition here, why’d you take so long?”

Wendy clutched at her heart with a grin. “You go straight for it huh?” She dropped the cheesy expression as she continued. “I got a music degree back in Canada. I was thinking maybe I’d try finding a music related job either there, or in the US… but I decided to try my hand here, in the end.”

“Well, it’s a win for me,” Yerim told her and her heart beat double time at the grateful expression she got in return.

 

It was a while before they could meet up again; Yerim had started comeback preparations while she was sure Wendy had her own training. She had managed to get a second self-composed song on the upcoming album. It was one written before the first song but retooled to be catchier and less fussy. She wasn’t a fan of having her work messed with, but she’d swallow her complaints if it meant her song got to live.

Speaking of… it was harder than usual to record since it seemed like her soulmate had picked up a habit of listening to music throughout the night. The same songs would loop on repeat over and over, and Yeri wondered if they were a fan streaming while they slept. Regardless, it meant she was learning music and singing over entirely different melodies in her head. It wasn’t impossible; most other trainees had to learn early how to tune out soulmate music. Yerim had just been spoiled up until now, with her soulmate seemingly in another time zone.

And yet, she felt bad pushing their music out of her mind when something else was doing so altogether.

Wendy…

Her thoughts came wandering back to the vocalist more often than she cared to admit over the week. She looked over the sheet music again after her schedules, closing her eyes against the memory of Wendy’s slight smirk as she sung adlibs like breathing. Yet in the next moment, Wendy’s shoulders would collapse inwards, looking to Yerim with eyebrows raised as though Yerim would be anything but stunned at her skill. She’d brush back her short hair with careless swagger, but her wide-eyed expressions would make Yerim want to hide her away from the world, unnie or not.

Even if she tried to not think about Wendy, it suddenly felt like everyone had something to say about the new trainee. She apparently brought snacks wherever she went and was more than happy to share. She was constantly praised for her strong, adaptable vocals, and yet was humble and willing to help out with anything. Amidst the cutthroat environment of competition between the trainees, she had managed to earn the nickname of ‘Wanangel’. There was no escaping mentions of her.

Then the universe itself had brought Wendy to her.

 “Hi, Yerim. How are you?” 

“Joohyun unnie? And… Wendy-ssi?” Wendy seemed to have already won over Joohyun, who had her arm looped easily through Wendy’s. While Yerim knew the model wasn’t as cold as people made her out to be, she was also genuine to a fault in her interactions with people. And if Joohyun unnie thought Wendy was a worthwhile friend already, then the singer must be as kind as the rumors made her out to be.

“You two know each other?” Joohyun asked, looking between the two of them with a pleased smile.

“I’m lucky enough to be working on a song with Yeri sunbaenim,” Wendy responded with a small smile.

“Sunbaenim?” Joohyun echoed with a full bodied laugh. “My Yerimmie is growing up.”

“‘Sunbaenim’... I like the sound of it,” Yerim spoke up, earning herself a swat on the arm from Joohyun. “You should just call me Yerim, though,” she continued, turning to Wendy.

“Yerim-ssi…” Wendy tried out.

“Yes, Wendy unnie?”

She laughed when Wendy looked as flustered as the first time she’d used the honorific. Joohyun shook her head at Yerim’s antics, pressing the button for the elevator. “Were you about to get lunch?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was going to take Wendy-ssi down to the cafeteria, but I’m supposed to be upstairs for a schedule in ten minutes. Would you mind going together?” 

“Sure!” She ignored Joohyun’s knowing look at her eager answer. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had a chance to experience the wonders of SM’s cafeteria.” 

“Not yet.”

Yerim punched the down button, waving at Joohyun as she stepped into the elevator going up. “Well I can tell you, SM cafeteria food… tastes just like any other cafeteria food.”

“So… mediocre.”

Yerim looked over, pleasantly pleased to see the smirk on the older girl’s face. She hadn’t thought Wendy capable of snark. “ Very mediocre. But pretty cheap, at least. And you don’t have to leave the building if you manage to get food before 9.”

“And how often do you manage that?” she asked with a grimace, apparently anticipating Yerim’s answer.

“Sometimes you just need a chicken sandwich at two in the morning,” Yerim replied airily, proud of herself when she manages to get a chuckle from Wendy at the reference.

They got food, Yerim opting for kimchi fried rice, while Wendy filled her plate with fruits and salad. Yerim managed to find them an open table by a window, grey winter light slanting in.

Yerim prided herself on being able to set people at ease. But with Wendy, there was no need for effort on her part. When not focusing on work, Wendy kept up conversation with a gentle thread of chatter. Some might’ve found it annoying, but Yerim found it endearing, forgetting about her lackluster fried rice as Wendy described the differences between Canada and Korea. It explained her hyper adherence to formalities and confused blustering when Yerim referred to her as ‘older sister’.

“Do they already have you on a diet?” Yerim asked as Wendy idly poked her fork at the salad still left on her plate.

“Yeah,” she sighed with a pout. “I just want rice.”

“You can have some of mine,” Yerim offered, pushing her plate towards Wendy. But the older girl shook her head even as she gave it a lingering look. It was sad; the rice didn’t even look appetizing at this point after Yerim had pushed it around.

“I’d better not. The weigh in goals are already hard to hit.”

“On the plus side, it looks like they might have you on a fast track to debut.” She nudged Wendy’s foot under the table with her own, and got an answering smile. “It makes sense; you might even sing as well as Taeyeon unnie.”

That comment had Wendy reeling, her eyes wide as she shook her head frantically. “Never!”

“Just as good,” Yerim pressed, leaning in with a grin as Wendy continued to deny the claim, waving her hands as well to emphasize her protest. She finally backed off with a laugh. “Don’t let them push you around too much, okay?”

“If you say so…” Wendy didn’t look like she knew what to do with the advice, but she seemed cheerful again and Yerim felt warm. The older girl flipped over her phone, turning on the display with a frown. “Have I kept you too long? Do you have a schedule?”

Yerim looked at the time and grimaced. “I am late .” She stood up with a squeak of her chair on the tile. “Oh .”

She started to pile her trash onto her tray, but Wendy waved her off. “I’ll take care of it; just go.”

“Thank you unnie!” she said absently, scooping up her bag and phone. “Oh my god…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Of course, yes! Thanks!” She gave herself a moment to meet Wendy’s gaze, returning the smile before waving frantically and running off to her meeting. 

She ended up arriving 15 minutes late, and had to make fervent apologies to smooth things over. Yerim thought it was worth it.

 

 

Wendy held out a strawberry yogurt drink as she entered the practice room the next time they met. The ‘Wanangel’ nickname really did suit her.

“Here; for energy,” Wendy told her with a bright grin that made Yerim stutter over her thanks. “Did you have a chance to look over the song again?”

“Yeah...” Yerim busied herself with pulling out her now thoroughly annotated music as Wendy set her absurdly large bag on a table and began to rummage through it.

“Not going to forget your entrance today?” Her tone was light and teasing. Yerim was happy to see Wendy cheery and more comfortable this time around.

“It’s not my fault you distracted me,” she shot back.

Wendy only raised an eyebrow. “By singing my part?”

“No, of course not. The light got in my eyes.”

“Am I the light now?” 

Yerim’s brain might’ve momentarily short circuited at Wendy’s smirk that seemed to be daring her to say yes. “N- no , your head had been blocking the light then you moved .”

“The light right above our seats?” Wendy pointed to the overhead light, and Yeri finally gave up the joke.

“C’mon, let me show you how much I practiced, unnie.” She elbowed Wendy’s arm, getting a yelp of surprise as she pulled over a music stand and settled in.

Most of the music they could work on by themselves, so they focused on the harmonies in the chorus. Yerim didn’t think there was much to work on; last time they had both learned their parts, Wendy’s vocals needed no work, and she had practiced herself. However, they ended up spending another late night running the chorus over and over again. Wendy kept altering the timbre and volume of her harmonies to see how it matched Yerim’s vocals. By the time Yerim finally pleaded exhaustion, they could sing in lockstep with gaze alone, Wendy finally finding a light, sweet tone she seemed to like. Yerim liked it too.

“You know production can do all of these changes post-recording?” Yerim said, finally remembering the yogurt drink as they packed up. It had gone warm, but she pulled the foil off the top anyways. She needed the energy.

“I mean, I’m sure,” Wendy responded, gulping her similarly abandoned water. “But this is something I can do on my own time to make things run smoothly.” She winced. “And on your time too. Sorry.”

Yerim flapped her hand dismissively. “No, it’s fine. Besides, I like working with you.”

“Same,” Wendy responded, voice earnest. “I know I can get, um…”

“Really perfectionistic?” Yerim suggested, eliciting a self-deprecating smile from Wendy who rubbed at her arm, avoiding Yerim’s gaze.

“That’s a good way of putting it.”

“It’s exactly what it is.” Yerim paused, waiting until Wendy finally looked up at her. “I think it’s admirable to have that sort of dedication for your work. You just have to have pride in it too.”

“…That’s surprisingly deep,” Wendy said, and Yerim punched her arm with a shout.

“I can be serious!”

“I know.” Wendy’s tone wasn’t joking like it had been just a second previous, but softer. Yerim wasn’t sure what to say. She simply shrugged and tossed her bag on her shoulder.

There was a lull as Wendy finished packing things into her own bag while Yerim waited. With the size of the tote and the amount of items Wendy had pulled out over the evening, it reminded her of a squirrel putting away its stash for the winter.

“Do you live close by?” she asked, scrunching her face in amusement as Wendy dropped her water bottle in surprise at the sudden question. She got a stuck-out tongue in response.

“Yeah, not too far.”

“I’m headed back to the dorms; wanna get a taxi?”

“Sure. We can split the cost.”

“Nah. You brought me the strawberry drink,” Yeri said, waving the half-full container. “Besides, I’m getting that sweet royalty money.”

“Oh really?” Wendy raised an eyebrow and Yerim shrugged.

“I’m sure I’ve gotten a few thousand won,” she said airily.

Wendy frowned as she thought it over. “So, like, a few dollars…”

“Like a few dollars, yeah?” Yerim confirmed with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t even know how royalties work. Do I get those?”

“You’re just making stuff up, then,” Wendy accused.

“But I didn’t make up the strawberry drink part,” she countered with a wink and a grin. “Get your bag; I’ll call.”

 

The taxi was overly hot, the heater turned up high against the winter chill. Yerim took off her coat, bundling it up into a pillow as Wendy pulled out her phone. She laid the coat against the window and rested her head on it. It was already 2am and she hadn’t been in bed before 3am the entire week. Tonight was just going to add on to her tally.

As she dozed, she realized that she didn’t hear anything except the sound of the car radio playing. Late nights for her usually meant hearing her soulmate’s music and yet there was nothing. There hadn’t been anything for… Yerim couldn’t even think of how long. Only the repetitive songs during the day.

What was wrong? Was there something wrong with them? There was a sudden flutter of panic in her chest and she sat up straighter, not sure what she intended to do, but feeling better for the movement.

“Is something wrong?”

Yerim felt Wendy’s hand on her upper arm, warm even through her long-sleeved shirt. She turned to find the other girl having put away her phone, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“No.” She took a deep breath. It helped a little, even if it didn’t clear away her worries entirely. “No, I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About… soulmates.” She shrugged, Wendy’s hand falling from her arm with the motion. She shivered. “Hey, do you think it’s alright to date people who aren’t your soulmate?”

“You’re always going for the personal questions.” But Wendy’s tone was light, not offended. Maybe still concerned, if Yerim had to guess.

“It’s past 2 in the morning. When else do you ask these kinds of things?” Did she want to know the answer? But the distraction would be nice. And maybe specifically Wendy’s opinion on the matter meant something to her, even if she wasn’t sure what she’d do with the knowledge one way or another.

“I mean, love is…” Wendy cut herself off with a small chuckle. “I wouldn’t want to speak for anyone else.”

Wendy looked off to the window, but Yerim continued, curious. “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

Wendy shook her head. “No.”

Yerim paused. “Did you come to Korea to find them?”

“I…” The frown on Wendy’s face said it all.

“Well, I hope you do,” Yerim said. “I haven’t either. Found them, I mean,” she tagged on as gratitude for Wendy indulging her.

“Soon, I’m sure.” Her voice picked up as she looked forward towards the driver. “This is me.” Yerim watched her gather up her things.

“Sleep well.”

“You too.” Wendy paused, one foot out of the car. “If it helps at all, I think anyone would be lucky to date you. Soulmate or not.”

Yerim was too startled to respond before Wendy slid out of the car, the door shutting neatly behind her. She only got to see the cheery wave as the taxi pulled away, leaning across the back seat to return it before the car turned the corner.

 

--

 

Mitsuki had to decide between her soulmate and her new love. And Yerim…? Well Yerim was an idiot struggling between the elusive music in her head and a few smiles from her co-worker.  It wasn’t the same at all. Even Sooyoung called her out for pining during their joint schedule.

“Don’t be a coward,” she scolded Yerim on their break, holding out an opened water bottle that Yerim took gratefully. “Isn’t that what you always say? It’s not cool to be a hypocrite.”

“I’m not being a hypocrite,” Yerim protested, even as she agreed with Sooyoung. Not that she’d admit it.

“Just tell Wendy-ssi you love her already. Even I can tell how hopeless you are.”

“Takes one to know one,” Yerim shot back and got herself hip checked for the low blow as Sooyoung walked back to the set.

“You’re just lucky I’m a literal saint, Kim Yerimmie. Go talk to your crush,” Sooyoung said. Yerim had the good sense to not bring up Sooyoung’s own crush a second time as she followed behind.

 

Sooyoung was right. Their recording session together would be the last chance she had to see Wendy, minus a chance encounter in the halls. Her heart felt heavy as she trailed behind her manager to meet Wendy in the recording studio.

The other girl was already there, looking over her music again when Yerim entered. At the sound of their footsteps, Wendy turned to greet them and Yerim couldn’t help but think of the sun, her smile just as gentle, her voice just as warm.

“Are you both ready to go?”

Yerim’s throat felt tight, the water in her hand not helping in the slightest. But she found herself ushered into the booth with little aplomb.

Wiping her hands on her skirt, she pulled her music out of the tote bag she’d left by her feet. She felt self-conscious in front of the mic like she hadn’t since her first few times recording, seeing Wendy sitting on the couch outside looking on. She was grateful that the music normally on loop in her head at this time of day was quiet so she could focus.

But after a few false starts, she fell back into the rhythm of recording easily. This was her home, behind the mic with headphones on, and not even Wendy could keep her from working for too long. Her eyes stopped flitting to the short haired girl outside, her focus instead on listening to the producers as they reviewed each take.

“You sounded great,” Wendy said the moment she stepped out of the booth. “The verses sounded so pretty-- you did even better today!”

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly, plopping down onto the couch beside Wendy. She forgot to be shy with the satisfaction of another track recorded, reaching across Wendy for a water bottle with only a grin to excuse herself. Wendy just placed one hand on her shoulder with a snort, pushing her back into the couch and placing the bottle into her hand. Yerim raised it in a mock cheers, guzzling it down as Wendy was pulled into the booth.

But the reality of their last session together rushed back to her as she watched Wendy fuss behind the mic and her stomach twisted. But she couldn’t afford to tune out, and so she gripped her now empty water bottle like it could steady the anxiety in her chest as she listened.

If she thought Wendy’s vocals impressive in the practice room, it was nothing to when she performed, face lighting up with the same sweetness she was putting into her timbre. Yerim sat motionless as Wendy sang. She felt like even a breath would bring their time together to a close quicker.

The producers had her sing over and over but muttered only praises between themselves as they had Wendy adjust her singing bit by bit. When she finally emerged from the booth, both producers and  Wendy had the glow of a job well done.

Yerim jumped to her feet as Wendy emerged. “Good job!”

“Thank you,” Wendy responded with a shy smile, and Yerim wished she could wipe it away and replace it with one more self-assured. It was unfair that someone as undeniably talented as Wendy didn’t seem to know it.

“Here, do you want to listen?” one of the producers asked, and both Wendy and Yerim took the proffered headphones.

It was simply their vocals layered over the backing track with no mixing and yet she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face without her input. She looked to Wendy to gauge her reaction, but the other girl was frowning, face deep set in concentration as she listened.

Yerim nudged her with an elbow, causing her to jump. “ You did amazing ,” she mouthed. When Wendy only smiled vaguely, she nudged her again, eliciting an eye roll but also a real full smile.

“Good work girls,” they were told when they removed their headphones. Yerim accepted the praise gratefully, bowing and following her manager out of the room.

“Could I just hear it one more time? There’s just this one part…” Yerim peered back into the room to see Wendy still seated at the mixing desk, looking up at the producer with concern. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that Wendy wanted to review her work. Yerim loitered just outside the door, listening as the producer who hadn’t been waylaid by Wendy explained her plans to finish up the track.

She only half heard the explanation. At first it was due to her restlessness in waiting for Wendy to finish up, turning Sooyoung’s advice over and over in her head as though she could find an out in it. But then she heard music playing, Wendy’s singing like an angel in her ear.

“Do you hear…” she started, cutting over the producer abruptly. She looked back into the room, but Wendy and the second producer were both wearing headphones.

“Hear what?” her manager asked, expression confused.

“Can you excuse me a second?” Yerim asked as the pieces of the puzzle came together. “I’ll be right back…” she trailed off vaguely, heading back into the room without waiting for an answer.

Wendy’s pre-chorus looped in her head once more. The producer had his headphones in his hands, looking on as Wendy nodded along to the music playing.

“Do you think it’ll be alright?” Wendy asked him as she slid the headphones off.

“It’s perfectly fine. We’ll just do a touch of editing, but after listening to all the pieces together, I think most of the work is going to be on the balancing side. You did good work today.” He took the headphones from Wendy. “Ah-- Yerim-ssi.”

“Hi again,” she said with a wave. “I just wanted to talk to Wendy unnie.”

“You’ve got me,” she said with a click of her tongue, and Yerim only shook her head as Wendy laughed at herself, grimacing at her own cheesiness.

Yerim couldn’t help the way her gaze wanted to wander to Wendy as the producer fussed with putting away the headphones. But when she gave into the impulse, she found the older girl looking back.

“Hi Yerim-ssi,” Wendy said when the producer left the room. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked nervous. But it wasn’t the normal heavy, weighted worry that Yerim was almost used to seeing settling on her features. “So, I have something I wanted to ask--”

“I have something to say too,” Yerim cut in quickly before she could talk herself out of saying anything. Even to her own ears her voice sounded breathless and she swallowed, throat dry with nerves.

“You should go first, then.”

With the floor conceded to her, Yerim didn’t know where to start.

She thought about Mitsuki and her choice. She thinks of the notebooks piled up on her bedside table, years of English lyrics scrawled clumsily across their pages. She thinks about how Wendy is from Canada, and then the US and the years Yeri spent drifting off to what she learned was Jessie J and The 1975. She thought about how Wendy’s voice felt like a sunbeam through a window.

She thought about how Wendy looked like the shape of her heart.

“You’re my soulmate. We’re soulmates,” she breathed out, clenching her hands into nervous fists, nails biting into her palm.

“Oh really?” Wendy’s reaction seemed nonchalant, but her eyes grew wider and wider. Yerim could practically see herself in their reflection. Wendy looked to the headphones hanging on the side of the mix board. “Because I was listening to our song?” she asked. Her voice rasped, and Yerim nodded.

“I guess my question is kind of anticlimactic, but um.” She cocked her head to the side with a crooked grin. “I wanted to ask you out for dinner.”

“Of course,” Yerim breathes. She finally reached out to take Wendy’s hand. It’s soft. It’s softer, wrapped in hers.  “I finally found you.”

“What? I found you .” Yerim turned to find Wendy’s face scrunched up in a mock pout. “Who came all the way to Korea and auditioned for SM?”

“Fine, you win!” Yerim flung Wendy’s hand teasingly to the side but immediately pressed their shoulders together to make up for the loss. “I’ll pay for dinner to make up for it.”

“You should pay for more than that. I thought you were getting that ‘sweet royalty money’.”

“Hey—!”  But she couldn’t complain for long when Wendy turned her head to place a feather light kiss on her cheek.

“We should probably head out before they send someone in for us,” Wendy said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Yerim reluctantly agreed. She stood up but spun around as a thought struck her. “Wait, tell me what this is.” Yerim hummed the few bars of the song she still remembered after all these years.

“Uh...” Wendy tilted her head, frowning as Yerim repeated it. “What’s this for?”

“Our First for me. What I remember, at least.”

Wendy sighed. “Really?”

“Yeah… what’s wrong?”

“You mean to tell me our First for you was ‘Don’t Stop Believin’?” Wendy made even exasperation look cute. “I guess this is what I get for watching Glee.”

“I’m going to look up the song and listen to it a million times.”

“If it’s you playing it in my head, then I can stand it.” As though she’d just realized what she’d said, Wendy pressed her lips together into a smirk, shooting awkward finger guns at Yerim. “Just for you, babe.”

“I think I’m regretting this already,” Yerim squawked.

“Sorry.” She didn’t sound apologetic in the least. But Wendy’s hand found its way back to hers, and Yerim found herself happy to be the 20-year-old self that finally got to experience the sunshine of her soulmate’s smile.