It’s almost midnight before Yongsun gets home.

An audible, unladylike yawn escapes as she unlocks the door, the hallway immediately lighting up. It’s a small but humble apartment, hidden away in one of the quieter parts of Seoul, and away from the busy street she works at.

Plodding towards the living room, Yongsun carelessly throws her bags over towards the worn leather sofa, stretching out her arms, cramped due to the multiple vases, centrepieces and decorations she has to help lift along with the flower supplier. 

Yongsun might not have much in her apartment, but she likes it. It's just the basics, including the usual amenities like a living room, kitchen, bedroom, washroom and a laundry area. She's not picky with where she lives. Yongsun really doesn’t need too many things in order to feel like home.

Home. Something Yongsun is not sure if she has with her parents, who keeps frowning on the career path she chose for herself. She winces at the memory of their fight, still strong in her mind.

 Sometimes she wishes she could do something to change their mind. Make them proud of their daughter and all the obstacles she’s worked hard to overcome, in order to make a life she actually wants for herself.

Closing her eyes as she slumps back into the sofa, Yongsun can hears her stomach growling like she hasn't eaten for days. Oh, right.

Dinner.

Yongsun chuckles at the irony, lounging around even more lazily. An absolutely fantastic, mouthwatering dinner banquet to attend to tonight, and none of the food served is in her stomach. She hadn't had a chance to eat since her relatively late lunch, and now that she's home, Yongsun is absolutely starving.

She quickly changes out of her clothes, pulling on a T-shirt and comfy shorts before shuffling towards the kitchen, looking for something to chomp down.

Her eyes skim over the contents of her fridge, groaning at how empty it is, all bare and sad. Yongsun definitely has to go grocery shopping soon.

In the end she makes mandoo soup, dropping the dumplings into the pot. While waiting for the chicken broth to start boiling, Yongsun absent-mindedly checks her phone for more emails or work.

There’s no more for today, thankfully, so Yongsun checks her social medias instead, Instagram being the last. She still follows several of her friends and relatives, plus some pages dedicated to the blossoms that had dominated her life.

Nothing particularly noteworthy or interesting pops up in her feed. As Yongsun’s about to click off and turn her attention back to her meal, her eyes land on the Users To Follow that Instagram randomly suggests to her once awhile. One username stands out like a neon sign to her.

Follow @moonbyulie? 

Interest now piqued, Yongsun curiously clicks on the profile, forgetting all about her dumplings for the moment.

Yep. That’s definitely her.

Her account is set to public, so Yongsun doesn’t have to click the Follow button in order to see what Byulyi has posted on her personal page. She briefly raises her eyebrows at the huge following the other girl has. 

Of course, Moon Byulyi is popular on the internet too. Can Yongsun honestly expect anything else?

She scrolls down for a few good minutes, flicking through sleek professional shots of sweets, candy-making, the occasional shot of friends at gatherings and the annoyingly cute girl herself, making faces or posing.

Even as a few minutes pass, Yongsun is embarrassed to admit that she can’t stop looking. She keeps swiping between different photos of Byulyi laughing, smiling or looking suave as freaking hell.

There’s one shot that Yongsun keeps coming back to, however. It's a cool-toned, older photo of the other girl looking out a window wistfully, lips barely pursed with eyes half-lidded.

The more she stares, the more Yongsun swears that her original plan of No Contact with Moon Byulyi is crashing down harder than ever.

She shakes herself back to reality after a few more seconds. No more developing crushes, Yo