Heejun: So are you watching films? You never answered me :’(

You: We are! But my vote for Detective Pikachu was denied. Boo!

Heejun: I haven’t gotten around to seeing it, but the trailers were… Something? Are you a Pokémon fan?

“Who are you talking to?” Mina asked as she dropped onto the couch next to you. You nearly dropped your phone and squeaked as you clutched it to your chest. It felt like she caught you doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing.

“Oh just…” A guy? A friend? Your favourite host in the host club that you introduced me to? Before you could answer, Mina grabbed your phone and flipped through your texts. At that moment you were indescribably grateful that Heejun had insisted on listing himself as “Junie” in your phone. Almost as if he’d known something like this would happen.

Mina squealed, and for a second you thought she’d guessed it was Heejun, but then she handed your phone back to you and clasped her hands together.

“He sounds so sweet! If I’d known you had a guy I wouldn’t have made this a women only party! Tell me everything!” She scooted closer to you. You felt your face flush and shrugged, tucking your phone safely away. Mina wasn’t about to give up, though, and beamed at you. You shrugged a second time and leaned back, trying to think of a story. Well, you could tell her what happened at the store…

“He’s just a guy… And I don’t know if he’s really interested in me, but he helped me out today when I ran into Jaehyun.” At that name, Mina’s face darkened. A heavy silence passed over, and you realized you’d rather talk about Heejun than Jaehyun. “Junie kept me company and… I don’t know. He acted like my boyfriend?”

“Really?!” Mina squealed, and your phone buzzed again. Heejun sent a picture. Mina stared at you intently. You opened the message, and breathed a sigh of relief when the picture that popped up was just one of a somewhat tattered Pikachu with a green beret. And the caption ‘I didn’t have a proper detective hat T.T’. You couldn’t help but laugh.

You: He’s cute! Does he have a name or are you following the Ash Ketchum tradition?

Heejun: What do you take me for?! And she’s a girl ;)

You: So what’s her name then?

As Heejun was typing, Mina shook your shoulders. You looked up from the screen and smiled awkwardly. Heejun just kept drawing you in. Determined to be a better friend, you sent Heejun a quick ‘talk to you later’ and tucked the phone away. It was time for baking soda face masks!

 

The next morning came with a headache and a wave of nausea. You were awoken by the ringing of your phone. For a few moments, you pondered on whether or not to ignore it. Then, you realized that it was Sunday morning, and it wasn’t an app. That could only mean one thing! You scrambled to sit up and quickly picked up your phone.

“Hey, good morning!” Crap. You bit your tongue and dug your nails into your thigh as you awaited the answer.

“You were late picking up. Did you have a late night out yesterday?” Your mother asked. Though it was phrased as a question, you recognized that it was an accusation. You patted your chest and clutched your shirt tightly in your hand.

“No, I was just in the shower! I live with four other women, it takes…-”

“Then why are you living in a dorm? I told you, you are perfectly welcome to stay with your aunt. She said you didn’t even have to pay rent!” Yeah, and live with your mother’s personal spy, never being able to do anything beyond drinking a daring cup of coffee? You bit your tongue again.

“It’s fine, mom. So why did you call?”

“Why are you calling, darling. Are you free for lunch today? I made reservations.” You felt your stomach turning.

“Sure! Just let me know where and what time!” You faked enthusiasm, but not too much. Your mother corrected you one more time before hanging up. A second later you received a text message with a time and location. You tossed the phone aside immediately to go take a shower, forgetting the notification of Heejun’s messages for the moment.

 

Your mother was a tall, graceful woman. At fifty six years old, she still looked young. The dresses she wore might not be the most expensive, but on her they looked as if they were exclusively designed for her. And you looked nothing like her. The natural waviness of her hair was a stark contrast to your straight and thick hair. She had long, slender fingers, while yours were too short for you to properly play the piano. You were paler than she was, but whereas your skin-tone made you look sickly, she just looked radiant. In short, she was an intimidating woman, and it felt like you were her pet project.

“How are your classes going this semester? Do you need any tutors?” Your mother asked as a waiter placed a salad in front of you. “I worry about you, I hear students eat unhealthy food all the time! Are you sure you don’t want to come live with my sister? She could make sure you have access to all the vitamins you need!”

“I’m alright, mom. It’s good for me to live with the other students, it makes networking easier.” You half smiled, poking senselessly at the salad. There was no dressing, because your mother resented the acidity and considered it to be bad for your health.

“You didn’t answer my questions. How are your classes? I can’t get transcripts of your grades so I don’t know what they look like. I presume you’re at least at a 4.0 GPA?” She asked sternly. Almost accusatory. Then the stern part of her faded and she reached for your hand. You wanted to jerk it out of her cold grip, but managed to force yourself to stay still.

“Sweetheart, I’m just worried about you that’s all. You’re my little girl, and I want you to do well. If there is anything I can do to help you, then I want to do that.” She smiled, and you knew whatever it was that she’d decided prior to contacting you was coming up now.

“I know mum.”

“So I asked around and I found an internship for you at a small lawyer’s office!” She said it as if it were great news. When you failed to respond in time, she squeezed your hand and frowned. “Darling, you’re rapidly approaching your last year! You need to get some work experience in to get ahead of the crowd!”

Rapidly approaching. It was August, and you were barely in your second year. You felt your stomach twisting. Despite the year having only barely started, you knew that your work load was going to pick up soon, and you’d been desperately trying to stay ahead so you couldn’t end up failing. And now she wanted you to start interning?!

It made sense, of course. She was technically right. The job market was overcrowded with overqualified people. Any stripe you could gain on the others might be the one that could land you that pivotal first job… But you were exhausted. For the first time in your life you were able to connect to other people. It hadn’t always gone well, but it felt like you were finally getting the hang of it. Wasn’t that valuable, too? Of course, you couldn’t bring that up.

“What kind of place is it?” You caved, trying not to sound as miserable as you felt. Your mother’s face lit up and she straightened her spine again.

 

When you finally got home, and took your phone off do-not-disturb-mode, your phone started vibrating like crazy. A majority of the messages were from your dormmates, a group chat about someone who lost her glasses at the party, and if anyone had found them. Then there were a few more from Mina wondering where you’d gone, then a message confirming she’d found your note, then a third one asking if you happened to have seen a pair of glasses.

And then there were a few messages from Heejun. You felt a smile creep onto your face as you opened them. There weren’t too many, one from the night before wishing you a good night, and one from early in the morning to ask how you were doing. Then another one from not too long ago, wondering just how hungover you were. You rolled your eyes, but typed out a reply.

You: I’m not hungover! My mum called this morning and we went out for lunch.

Heejun: There is no shame in being hungover ;)

You: She set up an internship for me. :/ So no more hanging out at the café for me.

Heejun: What? Why? Is she a tiger mum?

You: She just wants me to have the best odds for the future. But she can be a little overbearing. The internship will take up most if not all of my free time and I’m worried I won’t be able to keep up with my course work @_@

Heejun: Just take a deep breath for now. Since you can’t come to the café, maybe I could walk you to the internship? Or back home? And we can save the date for after the internship ;)

Why was it that the thought of that made you feel excited for your internship?