Korean National Training Center

October 29, 2016

7:49am 

Taeyeon makes her way down the hallway like she’s done hundreds of times before and soon finds herself standing in front of a familiar door. The name Jung Jessica, printed clearly in some generic Korean font, stares back at her mockingly. 

The door is slightly ajar and Taeyeon hears the distinctly muffled noises of someone moving things around inside the room. Not bothering to knock, Taeyeon pulls the door open and steps inside. 

The main occupant of the room doesn’t seem to hear her come in. With earphones shoved in her ears, the blonde is hunched over a half packed suitcase while happily humming along to a tune. Taeyeon decides to take a moment to take in the rest of the room, not ready to face the blonde just yet, to face the fact that she is leaving --- the training center, Korea, her.  

Despite the clothes messily strewn all over the bed and chairs, the room is inexplicably bare. Most of Jessica’s belongings have already been packed away into neat little suitcases all lined up against the wall in the corner. The sight makes Taeyeon want to throw up. 

Almost five years of living together in the training center, and it’s this easy to just pack everything up and leave?

Jessica’s little display of polaroids, polaroids which held important memories of both her and Taeyeon, is now empty and barren, almost as if those memories never even happened in the first place. 

Slowly, Jessica is erasing her existence from this room, from this rink, from Taeyeon. Yup, Taeyeon is definitely going to be sick. 

The tune Jessica is humming catches Taeyeon’s attention. She recognizes the melody and almost chuckles despite it all. 

“Is that the Frozen soundtrack?” she can’t help but mock as she leans against the door. 

Jessica whirls around, finally aware of Taeyeon’s presence, and pulls an earbud out. She shoots Taeyeon a sardonic smirk. 

“It is. I’m trying to decide on music for my new program.”

“No,” Taeyeon fake gasps. “Skating to ‘Let It Go’? Please don’t tell me you’re going to be that cliché.” 

Jessica only chuckles and for a second, all is well as laughter rings out between the two of them. 

But then, Jessica goes back to packing and silence is back, heavy as ever. So many words unspoken lie between them, but Taeyeon doesn’t know how to start. It doesn’t help that neither of them are great with words. 

Taeyeon does another sweep of the room, the now empty room, and bites back a small sigh. She notices that Jessica is almost done packing and the sinking feeling grows in her gut.

‘It’s not like she’s not going away forever for goodness sake. Stop being so melodramatic,’ she scolds herself. 

Still, that doesn’t change the fact that Jessica is leaving. That for the next few months, Taeyeon won’t be able to sit next to the blonde and eat lunch with her; won’t catch glimpses of the blonde on the ice, cheeks red from physical exertion and eyes wild with passion; won’t feel Jessica’s presence constantly pushing her to be better, to improve, won’t feel the rush of almost childish giddy happiness every time she’s in the blonde’s presence. 

Instead, Jessica is going to be halfway across the world in Canada doing her secret program reforming training. 

“Five months is a long time,” Taeyeon finds herself saying quietly. 

Jessica turns around once more, a folded shirt in her hands. Taeyeon recognizes the shirt, recalls how good the blonde looks in that particular shirt. Against her will, her mind somehow pulls up some distant memory of the time they hung out by the Han river late at night after practice and how Jessica looked, wearing that shirt and smiling at her under the moonlight while her hair fought the wind. 

Taeyeon fights the wave of sadness that suddenly rushes forward. is thick with emotion and she has to swallow it down. She blinks and her vision clears. For now. She doubts she’ll be able to keep the tears at bay for long however. She’s not that strong. She’s never been when it came to Jessica. 

The look Jessica gives Taeyeon is so soft, so fond, Taeyeon is sure Jessica has officially spoiled all romantic movies for her, because now she knows what it’s like to be looked like that. And goddammit, why can’t she just have her happily ever after?

“Yeah,” Jessica responds, tone equally as gentle. “Next time we see each other it’ll be at Worlds,” says Jessica, her gaze never leaving Taeyeon’s. 

“And then the Olympics,” Taeyeon responds, keeping her voice low. Any louder and she’s scared her voice will crack. Taeyeon hopes she doesn’t sound as resigned as she feels. But if she does, the blonde doesn't seem to pick up on it, too preoccupied with the thoughts of their future. 

“And then the Olympics,” Jessica nods absentmindedly. Her eyes wander, breaking away from Taeyeon and the brunette can’t help the small pang of disappointment.  

“The Olympics,” Jessica repeats, a faraway look now in her eyes and Taeyeon knows she’s lost her. “Right here. In Korea. At home.”

And Taeyeon loses Jessica to imaginings of what it would be like to compete in her home country, the honor and glory of it all. 

Taeyeon too is lost in thought, but not about the Olympics. That could wait. Instead, she tries to imagine what their reunion would be like. Would the first time they see each other again be at the hotel? Perhaps during breakfast, or while checking in, or even randomly in the hallways as Taeyeon gets ice for her sore muscles. Or perhaps it’ll be at the ice rink, during warm ups, or team practice, or in the changing rooms. 

Either way, it all seems too far into the future. Taeyeon doesn’t know if she could wait that long without seeing the blonde. 

“Don’t you have practice in five?” Jessica speaks up suddenly. “I wouldn’t want my rival slacking on me just because I’m leaving. If you think you can underestimate me just because I’ll be out of sight-”

Taeyeon snorts. As if she could ever underestimate Jessica. As if she could ever forget just how good, great, amazing, beautiful, perfect of a skater Jessica is no matter how many years passed by. 

“Yeah right, if anything, the uncertainty of how much you’ve improved will probably push me even harder,” says Taeyeon, trying hard to appear unaffected when deep inside, she was crumbling.  

Jessica only grins at her and Taeyeon knows it’s her cue to leave. The weight in her chest seems permanent now. There’s nothing she can do about that. So she steps forward and pulls the blonde into a hug. It’s too brief, and Jessica’s moving away too soon. Taeyeon lets her arms fall helplessly to her side where she keeps them clenched. It takes everything in her to not pull the blonde back into her arms and never let go. 

With one last knowing nod, she turns and leaves the room. 

A single tear makes its way down her cheek as soon as she’s out the door and Taeyeon bites the inside of her lip to keep any more of them from falling.  

‘Five ing months.’ 

Jessica leaves the training center with her three suitcases at 9:12am. Taeyeon doesn’t get to say goodbye. She’s too busy catching her breath and listening to her coach’s instructions over the sound of her beating heart. 

Taeyeon is mid jump when she sees the familiar blonde head disappear down the hallway. By the time she lands, the blonde is already gone. 

Taeyeon lets her go, knowing that if she asked, her coach would probably let her take a break to chase after the blonde and say goodbye properly. But as much as she wants to --- as much as she wants to never let the blonde go --- she doesn’t. 

Instead, she steels her resolve and prepares for another jump --- tighter, faster, cleaner than the last one. 

‘In five months, I refuse to be the only one shocked at how much the other has improved.’ 

So Taeyeon pushes herself further. Jessica is no longer here to do it, so she puts extra pressure on herself, pretends that the blonde is right there, scrutinizing her every move. 

And as long as she’s on the ice, she knows that Jessica is never too far away. 

Unbeknownst to her, Jessica lingers around the corner, watching Taeyeon silently as she skates across the ice. 

Tiffany turns the corner down the hallway and sees the blonde peeking in on Taeyeon’s practice. 

“You’re not going to say goodbye?” Tiffany asks as she approaches. 

Jessica’s eyes don't leave Taeyeon’s form as she answers. “It’s not goodbye though, is it? It’s more of a see you later, no?”

Tiffany’s face scrunches into a look of confusion. Leave it to Jessica to make things so complicated. She never really understood the blonde. No one really did. All of their teammates on the national team and even the officials on the Federation know not to question the blonde’s sometimes quirky personality. As long as Jessica continued winning championships, they just roll along with whatever. 

No except Taeyeon of course. Those two always have had some sort of unspoken understanding between them that Tiffany was never privy to. 

Tiffany shrugs. “I guess so? Still, five months is a long time. It’s not like you’re just visiting your family for the weekend. You aren’t going to talk to her before you leave?”

Jessica finally turns to look at Tiffany. “Keep an eye on her will you?” she asks instead, completely ignoring Tiffany’s question. “And if her right ankle starts bothering her again, let me know.”

“Yeah of course,” Tiffany acquiesces easily. She would’ve done so even without Jessica asking. It is an unspoken agreement betw